#it doesn't really fit the prompt lmao

[tenpintsof-sundrop]

Hii !! From the smut prompts (stop rolling your eyes, I know Im predicatable!) could I request "Accidentally Sending Nudes", "Sexting" and... a secret third thing (the choice is yours, go hogwild) for Jason x Fat Fem Reader? I'm leaning more towards sub!reader but shes def a little shit about it :3

Thank you in advance if you write it !! 🌼

See, this is why it pays to send in a request with me, because even if I don't answer it right away, I keep requests in my inbox for months and come back to them later!!! (This is from December 2023)

(Also this request is just plain fun) (because Star knows exactly what buttons to push to get me lmao)

DC Titans Requests - OPEN

How would Jason react to you accidentally sending him a nude?

(Jason Todd x Fem!Thick!Reader)

Warnings: set specifically in the Titans!verse - set during season 3/mentions of season 3 plot points; spoilers for major plot points of Titans (including character deaths on the show); this is kind of enemies to lovers? (enemies to fwb, I guess); the reader uses she/her pronouns and has a vagina; the reader is described as being fat/plus sized; passing mentions of Gar x reader (I couldn't help myself); dubious consent - because of the nature of the trope, Jason sees the reader naked without her explicit consent, and he decides to keep the picture without her consent - but it does spark a consensual sexual relationship between them; passing mention of using nudes for blackmail (that does not happen); this isn't really proofread; (generally, I consider this post to be a fucking mess because it was written in Tumblr but I was still trying to have fun with it lmao.)

...

Jason is minding his own business when it happens.

(For once in life, he is fully, completely, minding his own business.)

He's back in Gotham and he hasn't seen you in months - and if asked, he would say that he hasn't thought about you. He doesn't have time to think about you because he's been too busy with this therapy bullshit, training, trying to get back his title of Robin. Trying to get back in the cape. (And trying to get back in Bruce's good graces.)

But that's not exactly true. He's thought about you a lot.

(Most of those times have been with his hand around his cock, but again - he won't admit that.)

There is an occasional time that you cross his mind and it's because he's wondering genuinely how you're doing - wondering if you're well, how your training is going, wondering if you're doing okay under the Dickhead's reign. But he can't ever pluck up the courage to text you and simply ask. Because that would be admitting that he cares, and that would make him look like a weak little prick.

And that's why he's so damn surprised when you text him first.

He hasn't heard from you since he left the Tower (well, since he stormed away from Donna's funeral in what you called a 'toddler fit' - something that ended in a rather vicious text argument between the two of you). In fact, the last thing in the text history between the two of you is you calling him a 'giant, petty, whiny baby who can't deal with his own emotions'.

(You had no clue what had happened between him and Rose, so that did inform a lot of your opinion on the matter.) (And that was probably the reason why Rose still had all of her teeth after you had seen her at the funeral.)

But all of that was aside from the point.

The point being - Jason found himself smiling when your contact name popped up on his phone.

He has you in his phone as 'Pretty Girl' - along with a contact picture of you sticking your tongue out at him in response to having his phone shoved in your face with the knowledge that he was taking a picture of you. (That tongue always makes him think certain things, so even though you intended for it to be some rude thing to ruin the picture, it makes it so much better for him.)

(1) new photo

That instantly catches Jason's attention.

Perhaps you were sending him a picture just to flip him off, or sending him a picture of a dumpster to ask him if it reminded him of home - a common joke you used to make when he still lived at the Tower.

Jason grabbed his phone and opened the message, expecting another tired joke, and-

Holy fuck.

The last thing he was expecting - your naked body. Your gorgeous naked body.

(He likely would have expected a nuclear blast or for the Joker to clean up his act and actually become a decent, sane citizen before he expected this to happen.)

Jason brought his phone closer to his face, making the picture full screen in order to examine it better - he needed to make sure that he wasn't hallucinating, or that this wasn't some weird dream. But fuck, he definitely wouldn't be able to dream up this.

You were so perfect - so fucking perfect in a way that was so very real.

The picture was a fucking stunning side profile of your body - rolling curves, lacy underwear that could clearly barely contain your impressive hips with sweet little stretch marks jutting out from the fabric (jagged little marks across the softness of your skin that made Jason want to act up) - soft fat for him to grab onto, and the perfect teardrop shape of your breast, now bared to his eye in a way that he had only dreamt of before. Something that he had stared at through the oversized tee shirts you wore to bed without a bra, just wondering what you looked like underneath.

And fuck, this was so much better than anything he could have dreamt up.

Jason's cock began to harden almost instantly, and laying in bed, he reached over to his nightstand for some lube, ready to milk that picture for all it was worth, when-

His phone buzzed again.

Pretty Girl: 'Delete that.'

Jason hadn't even considered that you had sent it to him by mistake. He had been far too busy enjoying to even consider the intention or the psychology behind it.

So, he took his hand off the waistband of his sweats and texted back the first thing that came to mind.

'No.'

(He didn't hear your annoyed growl on the other end, frustrated at his downright typical Jason behaviour.)

'It's not my fault you made a dumbass mistake. Besides, it's the least I get after all the nagging from you.'

Then, something else came to mind as the bubbles popped up, meaning you were busy formulating a reply - an annoyed one, no doubt.

'Who did you mean to send it to anyway? Who are you fucking whose name starts with J that's not me?'

(You hesitated.)

Pretty Girl: 'I didn't type in J.'

'???'

Pretty Girl: 'I typed in G. And it turns out the first contact that popped up was Giant Baby. That's you.'

Jason felt annoyed and insulted on all levels. The fact that you were going to Tiger Boy for dick instead of him, and the fact that you had used such a mocking contact name for him. But when he realised that such a pathetic string of events had caused him to accidentally see you naked, he couldn't be too upset.

'I'm still keeping the picture 😈'

Pretty Girl: 'You're such an asshole' Pretty Girl: ... Pretty Girl: 'You owe me one'

'Fine, I'll owe you one'

Jason shrugged it off, thinking he had won, until -

Pretty Girl: 'No, you owe me a cock.'

This made Jason's stomach jump. You couldn't possibly mean-?

Pretty Girl: ... Pretty Girl: 'You owe me a picture of your dick. You know - an eye for an eye type stuff.'

Jason wanted to ask questions - what did you plan to do with the picture? Should he shave his balls first? Did you want more than one?

But his cock got even harder at you asking for a picture, at you demanding to see his cock, and he couldn't properly think - he couldn't even reason that you might later blackmail him with the picture.

No, instead, he found himself ripping down his pants and turning on the bedside lamp for good lighting, pumping himself up to peak rigid hardness and grasping the base of his cock in hand. And then, without hesitation, he snapped a picture for you. He made sure to get his abs in the photo - a collection of his best assets, with his pants pulled down to mid-thigh, showing off his tight stomach, the deep V leading down to his dick, and his thick seven inch cock in hand surrounded by some well-kept dark pubic hair.

(He was proud of it - and that ego was one of the things that annoyed you most about him.)

He sent it without hesitation and then you began typing several times and stopped once again. Jason's stomach churned with nerves until -

Pretty Girl: 'Fuck you' Pretty Girl: 'I thought it would be smaller'

Jason had no clue how to respond to that, and he was busy racking his brain for some clever reply, when -

Oh. Oh fuck.

(1) new photo

You had sent him another picture. And this time it was definitely on purpose.

It was a view between the plump, beautiful thickness of your thighs - your hand was inside the pretty lace of those panties, and your fingers were visible working on your clit while your needy hole dripped wetness onto the fabric.

So you had liked what you had seen.

Pretty Girl: 'What would you do if you were here right now?'

Jason's brain short-circuited then. He thought of so many things - eating your pussy until you screamed, flipping you onto your stomach and fucking you until you begged him to stop, gripping onto those gorgeous thighs, pinning them to your chest and pounding into your cunt until you finally surrendered and said that you had liked him all along, fucking your smart little mouth to finally shut you up-

Pretty Girl: 'Come on, Jay. Don't disappoint me.'

Oh, he won't.

(Another thing Jason won't admit - he came back to the Tower just for you.)

...

DC Titans Masterlist

#star-mum #my lovely moots #requests #requested #sundrop writes #jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x plus sized reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd smut #red hood x reader #red hood x you #red hood x y/n #dc titans #titans #dc titans fanfiction #titans fanfiction #titans x reader

[angelltheninth]

Hi! I wanted to say thanks for bringing Genshin Impact to my attention. I would see several posts from you on these characters, but outside of hearing a few mentions of it being a Gacha game, I didn't know much about it. Until a couple months ago when you provided all the interest I needed to check it out. I am not sure if it was the best or worst thing to come into my life right now with the hours invested in the thing lol Anyway, call me crazy, but I'm a sucker for Thoma recently. I love acts of service, and boy does this guy have it. Kind? Check. Observant? Check. Protective? Check. Laid-Back? Check. Hot Husband Material? Absolutely! His hangout quest where he basically says he lives to serve and is willing to try whatever I suggest to him got my head in the gutter somewhere. We know he's good at house service, but what else can he service? (I bet his oral skills are out of this world~~ ahem)

Happy I could get you to check out the game, also I am so sorry for it lmao. And yes Thoma is the whole package isn't he?

Pairing: Thoma x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, cunnilungus, tongue fucking, biting, licking, face riding, overstimulation, pussydrink!Thoma

A/N: I just did an Ayato smut blurb the other day and now it's Thoma's turn. they really do follow each other perfectly.

Focused on giving you please 100% of the time

The term service top doesn't fit him because he doesn't have to be on top or the one in control to have a good time with you

Perfectly content with you riding his face all night while you pull on his hair and are barely able to keep eye contact because his mouth is on your clit half the time

When he's eating you out he wants you to be able to buck your hips so you're never fully pinned down by him, only when he deems it necessary

Such a time could be when he's trying to get his tongue as deep into your wet pussyhole as possible but you keep squirming and thrusting upwards

He can't work like that, so he has to put his hands on your hips and keep you a bit more still

Another way he loves letting you know to hold still is by biting your thighs, he does this really hard actually, hard enough for a bite mark to be there even the next day

Overstimulation happens often because Thoma has little self control when you keep begging him to eat you out

The man gets pussydrunk way too easily, offering you his mouth and his face and to suck your fingers after watching you finger yourself

Bold in the way he spells his name on your clit every time you come on his face, he wants to make sure your pussy knows who made it squirt

If prompted to he can eat you out while he's supposed to be working

Much more rare because takes his job very seriously but as your boyfriend he can't ignore your lustful and needy looks

He'll make you happy, just let him get down on his knees and put your legs up on his shoulders, let him taste you, have his fill of you, bite your fist if you need to keep your voice down, Thoma doesn't care, he only wants to know he's making you feel good

Cleaning up is always part of the process although you contribute that to him wanting to keep things going a bit longer rather then winding things down

Especially when it always involves kissing and sucking on your clit

You have to push him away when it all becomes a little too much for your pussy, literal hours of his mouth on you

Seems like the two of you need to work on your stamina a little because he can still keep going

Maybe it would be different if he was on the receiving end

#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #thoma x reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin imagines #thoma imagine #genshin impact headcanons #genshin headcanons #thoma headcanons #genshin impact smut #genshin smut #thoma smut #genshin impact x you #genshin x you #thoma x you #genshin impact x female reader #genshin x female reader #thoma x female reader #x female reader

[thisisnotkitty]

more securitywaiter headcanons bc i can't stop thinking about them

part one here

-mike probably can't fall asleep unless he's playing the nature sounds at this point but one night they're chilling on the couch and ness notices mike starting to get sleepy so he starts to softly sing and mike is Schlumped. after that he much prefers falling asleep to ness's voice than the nature sounds

-ness grew up in the small town freddie's is in and probably grew up going to sparky's (and freddie's) a lot. most of the older folk who still go to the diner have known him since he was little. i think of his generation he's the only one who stayed bc most people his age moved out as soon as they could so he's kinda the towns kid in that sense??

-this one comes from the discord but he grew up going to freddie's and his favorite animatronic was always chica! i like to think he eventually gets to meet abby's friends and his parents probably never let him get to close to the animatronics for #safety reasons so he's incredibly excited to hang out with them

-ooh wait i have a hard time fitting vanessa anywhere in this canon divergence lmao but! i think her and ness originally had a hard time getting along but eventually they bond over their pasts with freddy's (and their shared names!) while mike is just like ??? in the background lmao (wlw and mlm solidarity?)

-abby absolutely LOVES ness (which is Very Important if you're going to be dating Mike) ness will sometimes babysit for mike but when the three of them are hanging out mike always makes jokes about how he feels like he's babysitting two kids instead of one

-speaking of abby, they don't really get a lot of one-on-one time with one another bc mike can't really afford another babysitter and vanessa has an actual job, so on their dates their joined by abby as the third wheel kinda lmao but ness always makes sure to give the schmidts an equal amount of attention and constantly reassures mike that he doesnt mind abby tagging along bc he's always liked kids and mike just heart eyes

-still the lack of alone time always makes mike nervous bc he doesn't think ness knows him entirely and doesn't think he'll still like him if he does but whenever vanessa can baby sit and they manage to go on a date, just the two of them, ness always lets mike knows that he likes him just as he is

im begging yall to send me any headcanons you have OR lowkey any prompts bc im already working on a fic but i wouldn't mind writing some oneshots in between...

next part

#securitywaiter #mike x ness #this is really just brainrot #im so desperate for more content so im just making it now #mike schmidt #ness the waiter #fnaf ness #dreamtheory #still a cute ship name < #fnaf #fnaf movie #abby schmidt #vanessa shelly #fnaf vanessa #vanessa afton #sparkys diner #kitty.twt

[libraryofgage]

Please write for 42. Maybe it could be something dealing with Steve overhearing something he shouldn't have,maybe something the kids say, or Eddie says to someone. Whatever it is it makes him feel like shit. He talks to Eddie, or Robin (or both!) about how much he's changed over the past few years and how he didn't end up being the person everyone thought he'd be, but after what hes overheard he's crying because even though he did all he could he feels lonelier than ever.

Anon, I love you

Prompt 42 for this prompt list!

“Who’s laughing now?”

“…Clearly not you. You’re crying, dear God.” 

I didn't use these quotes exactly, but I came close. It still fits them, though lmao

---

"I should be right back," Steve says, throwing open the van door before hopping out. The moment it closes, Eddie blasts the heavy metal he usually can't because of Steve's sensitive ears. Steve snorts with amusement and heads towards the diner, the smell of fried food and grilling beef overwhelming him the moment he opens the door.

Steve heads up to the counter, flashing a charming smile at Paula, a woman who's been working at the diner longer than Steve has been alive. "We got your usual almost ready, sugar," she tells him, returning the smile as she grabs a receipt from the turning rack and leads him over to the register.

It's a Friday night, which means the diner is bursting with teenagers hanging out in groups or trying to have a romantic date. Steve doesn't usually see anyone he feels like greeting when he picks up food, but a quick sweep this time reveals a table where Jonathan, Argyle, Nancy, Mike, and Will are sitting. Their table is close to the bar, but none of them seem to have noticed Steve because of their conversation, which is just fine with him.

If he gets dragged into a conversation, he might take too long and make Eddie worry. And if Eddie worries, he'll come bursting into the diner, and there are too many people in here that still blame him for...well, everything, for that to be safe.

"Your total is gonna be $12.93," Paula says, watching as Steve distractedly pulls a twenty from his wallet.

"Keep the change. I'll be waiting over there," he says, nodding to a bar stool somewhat close to where his friends are sitting. He then slides into said stool, leaning on the counter and trying to ignore how sticky it is.

He's close enough now to hear the tail-end of Argyle saying, "--eems like such a nice dude, though."

Mike snorts at him. "You didn't know Steve when he was dating Nancy," he points out.

Oh. They're...talking about him. Steve gets the feeling he should walk away, but he also feels stuck in the stool.

"He wasn't that bad," Nancy says. Silence follows her words, and Steve can imagine the looks she's getting. "Okay, yeah, he was an asshole."

"He smashed my camera," Jonathan says, and Steve wonders if he's imagining a trace of bitterness in his voice.

Here's the thing: Steve apologized for smashing the camera (though, he feels it was still justified) and got Jonathan a new one. A fancy, new one. But it doesn't sound like Jonathan is going to include that detail, too.

"He's a lot better now, though," Will says, and Steve wants to get him a new set of dice for trying to stick up for him.

He then wants to cry and maybe break something when he hears Jonathan and Mike snort and bark out a short laugh.

Steve feels himself grow tense as Nancy and Jonathan regale Argyle with how shitty he was in high school. He keeps waiting for one of the kids to refute or bring up how he's changed, but Mike only adds to it all while Will stays quiet, probably unwilling to get himself laughed at again (not that Steve blames him, honestly).

None of them actually point out how Steve's changed. They laugh at how much of a douchebag he was in high school, and Jonathan tells Argyle to "watch out for King Steve coming through" now that nothing is trying to kill them again.

And Steve feels sick to his stomach. Has...has he not actually changed? Is he really the same King Steve he was in high school? Is he still that asshole who didn't give a shit about others because he was just trying to survive himself, no matter who it hurt? Is this how everyone sees him?

"All right, sugar. Here's your cheeseburgers," Paula says, placing a bag in front of him and jerking him out of his thoughts. "One without tomato but with extra ketchup, and the other with grilled onions."

Steve blinks and smiles at Paula again. "Thanks. Same time next week?"

He waits to see Paula's amused smile and playfully dismissive wave before grabbing the bag and practically running out of the restaurant. He doesn't know if it's good or bad that nobody at the table seems to have noticed his presence or departure.

Steve jerks the door to the van open, not waiting for Eddie to turn the music down before hopping in and slamming it shut. He silently pulls on his seatbelt, holds the food in his lap, and stares at the glove compartment.

"Uh, you okay, Stevie?" Eddie asks, his hand lingering on the volume dial.

"I don't wanna talk about it here," Steve says. Because he's going to talk about it with Eddie, the only other person he trusts to be honest with him is Robin. But this is date night for him and Eddie, and even when he's drowning in self-doubt, Steve doesn't want anyone else to interrupt their date night.

Thankfully, Eddie just nods. "Okay, sweetheart," he says, pulling out of the parking lot and onto the road.

Steve doesn't say a word the whole drive, too consumed by forcing himself to focus on Eddie's hand on his thigh. There's a warmth that he feels through the fabric, grounding him and keeping his brain from spiraling too far.

When they finally park (a secluded area close enough to the local make-out spot to still see the romantic stars in the sky without getting caught by anyone else) Eddie turns to Steve and softly asks, "Wanna move to the back, sweetheart?"

Steve grips the bag in his lap tighter, takes a deep breath, and looks at Eddie. He feels a little bad for ignoring the question, but he can't help his worries and fears bubbling out now that they've stopped driving. "I've changed, right? Since high school?"

Eddie blinks, caught off guard by the sudden question. But then he nods. "Yeah, Stevie, you've definitely changed."

"Jonathan and Nancy were in the diner with Argyle, Mike, and Will," Steve says, trying and failing to seem more nonchalant by unbuckling himself and moving to the couch that barely fits in the back of the van. Eddie follows, sitting closer than necessary to eat the burger Steve hands to him. "They were...talking about me. High school me. King Steve. And Jonathan told Argyle to be wary of me. Do they really think I'm the same person?"

"Stevie-"

Steve doesn't let Eddie get far. He's too wrapped up in what happened, too consumed by self-doubt and guilt and the wish that he'd said something to them. His chest feels tight, he feels like the world is going to cave in on him, and the only thing keeping him steady is the way Eddie puts down his burger and pulls Steve into his lap. "And the worst part is that they were laughing. Will tried saying that I was better now, and they fucking laughed. Like it was ridiculous. Like I could never change.

"And I just....I wish I'd said something. I could have ruined their night so fucking easily, Eds. I could have turned around and asked if they always talked shit behind the backs of people who saved them. I could have asked if Jonathan didn't like the replacement camera I got him, or if he still used it to sneak photos of Nancy."

"Is that why you broke his camera? Fuck, I don't blame you."

Steve manages a slight smile for Eddie. "Thanks. I...I don't know. For all I've changed, it would have been so easy to just turn around and be who they thought I still was. And then I would've torn them down to the size of ants. And...and...I wish I had but I don't but I do, so I could've ended it with who's laughing now?"

Steve's chest feels a little looser, and that's a fucking relief, but then he feels Eddie's hand cradling his cheek. "Well, it's definitely not you, sweetheart. Your crying."

Oh. Eddie is right. He is crying. Steve hastily wipes at the tears before just giving up and leaning into Eddie's touch. "Sorry," he mumbles.

"Don't apologize. I almost wish you had done it. And that I'd been there to see it."

"No, you don’t."

Eddie grins, pulling Steve closer so they're chest-to-chest, heart-to-heart. "Yeah, I do. I love when you get bitchy, sweetheart. Especially when it means we can be bitchy together."

Steve blinks, and he can't help laughing. The words were simple, but they still managed to erase all the doubt and some of the hurt. He still probably needs a few days before he can actually look at Jonathan or Nancy or Mike again, but he doesn't feel so immediately devastated.

"Somehow, that was the perfect thing to say," he tells Eddie, closing the distance between them to kiss his lips, getting a hint of ketchup on his tongue.

"Perfect enough to earn me some fun?" Eddie asks, wiggling his eyebrows playfully.

Steve sighs dramatically, pretends to think about it as he actually laments that their burgers will get cold, and then pushes Eddie down on the couch.

#steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve harrington angst #steddie fluff #established steddie #prompt list #my writing #i hope you like it anon!

[hangesdarling]

I hear you want Hange requests….heres one for you angry sex with hange 🤤

attention — h. zoë

PAIRING. Hange Zoë x female reader

SYNOPSIS. During the party celebrating Marley and Eldia, the tension between you and Hange remained thick after an argument.

CONTENT. 18+, MDNI, angst, alcoholism, arguments, masturbation, cursing, Yelena making moves on you, jealousy, fingering, strap-on sex, Hange being kinda aggressive, marking up, dacryphilia if you squint, choking, overstimulation, drama (lmk what else)

WORD COUNT. 3.4k

A/N. this is my active daydream being turned into a fic. got carried away lmao

The ballroom party wasn't really necessary. All the fine-tuned instruments, lovely voices, and extravagant facade serve nothing but shallow acquaintanceship between the two parties. It doesn't mean anything, you argued with Hange. But you still sat there in a lone chair by the bar, sipping away your disappointment. And sometimes, your eyes would travel over your spouse happily chatting with fellow commanding heads. 

Irritating, you thought, rolling your eyes before signaling the barkeep for another drink. 

Not only because you and Hange fought this morning, but you were forced to wear an itchy, pretentious dress during the event. You're itching to claw on your skin, the neckline forming tiny rashes mottled across your chest. You looked beautiful, but then again what could be expected from the Commander's wife but beauty, elegance, and good manners? A huff escaped your lips as you remembered Hange ordering you to behave yourself.  

They remained at the center table, chatting and laughing with the higher-ups they used to hate. You could only clench the drink handed to you, wondering if that Hange across the room was the same person you married seven years ago. For all you know, your Hange wouldn't force you into this stupidity and would loathe the pleasantries from the country wishing to eliminate your own. They wouldn't neglect you as what they've been doing for the past months. 

You want to storm there and shake them awake, to say that they shouldn't have let you stay all alone in this stupid, friendless corner like a forgotten, dusting trophy. You've already snapped quietly like a leakage never detected. You sneaked a champagne bottle, walking away from the party as you tore the lace choking your neck. Upstairs, you stormed inside the room you and Hange shared, still tearing away the fabric of your dress in pure irritation. 

You couldn't handle the air downstairs. The sweet scent of whisky, the rich scent of food, and the cloying commingle of expensive perfumes. Even Hange's presence. 

You tore the last ribbons off your dress, letting the fabric fall off your shoulder before crawling back to the cold bed sheets. Pulling the nearby pillow, you buried your face in frustration, trying to think of something peaceful. Flowers, sheep, anything, damnit. But your mind remained on the event downstairs, prompting the frustrated screams you let out on your pillow. 

You rolled over the bed, staring at the ceiling and ruminating what made you so frustrated. Your argument with Hange, the dress, the party... But there was something else. An unwelcomed thought you're trying to neglect out of fear to be pathetic: what frustrated you the most was that Hange hasn't touched you in such a long time. Even the past weeks became so difficult that you never had the opportunity to relieve yourself. Your body wanted to be touched, to be hugged so tightly once again, craving for the familiar feeling of Hange's arms that perfectly fit around your body.

Slowly, you unbuttoned the rest of your clothing, discarding them across the room. It didn't take long for you to set yourself in the mood, shutting the lights off to further feel yourself. In no time, you were clenching on the sheets, moaning soundlessly against the pillow as you tried to imitate Hange's rhythm inside of you. You curled and pumped your fingers inside your dripping cunt, thinking of the bleary memories when Hange was making love with you. 

However, your peak was cut short as you heard the door open and slammed closed within a matter of seconds. Hange's irritated voice followed.

"What do you think you're doing?" Hange hissed, locking the bolts shut. 

You sat up and shot them a glare, "None of your fucking business. Go away."

"None of my business?" Hange turned their head sharply at you. "Of course, it's none of my business that my wife is touching herself with the door unlocked and a huge party happening outside."

Their sarcastic tone irritated you even more. As you would argue back, Hange grabbed your wrist and pulled your chin so you would look at them.

"What were you thinking? What if I'm not the one who walked in?" 

You tore your hand off their bruising grip. "I hate you."

"Right. Hate me all you want. What is it now, you want someone else to walk in so you could be touched?"

Your eyes burned from the angry tears falling on your eyes, you pushed them away and muttered, "I hate you so much. You're making it sound like I'm a disgusting, cheating whore."

"What am I supposed to think when you're doing filthy things in our bed and didn't lock the door?" They argued back. 

"I just forgot to lock the door. Why don't you just drop it? Ugh!" Your voice rose, trying to shut them off. You wrapped a blanket around you, reaching for the bottle across the bed. Maybe handling this drunk would be better. 

Hange let out a sharp, annoyed sigh before swinging the bottle out of your reach. 

"I told you not to drink. You're a lightweight and it's not good for you," they said, trying to be calmer this time. You're so sick of arguing with them anymore that you just let them tear the drink away from you. You pulled the sheets to your chin and muttered, "Fine. Just go away."

Hange was eyeing the torn dress you threw across the room earlier and retorted, "No, you're going back downstairs. People are looking for you."

Of course. Everyone's conversation starter was to ask for the spouse of the other, flashing them like an acquired trophy to be complimented for pristine behavior. 

"No way in hell I'm going there," you said finally. "I'm sleeping."

Hange shot a hard look as your back was against them. They clenched the bottle tightly, eager to snap but wouldn't let themself. 

"Fine. Have your way." Truly, Hange wanted to talk to you, sort things out so you wouldn't sleep angry at them again but you've become so hard and cold. 

They took the bottle with them as they went out and slammed the door shut louder than before. Hange left the room, locking the door shut from the outside, thinking you would continue the act before. They won't risk anyone to see you like that. 

With attentive ears, you heard the tell-tale sound of a bolt being locked from the outside. You ran to the door and checked, wriggling the knob open to no avail. All that ran in your mind was perhaps Hange hated you so much they had to lock you in out of revenge. You pounded on it for almost half a minute, even shouting how irritated you were at them for locking you in. 

Eventually, you slumped from the other side and cried in anger. You didn't want to register what the few moments after that came to be as it was confusing. 

All you knew was that, the door managed to twist open. But it wasn't Hange from the other side. 

Yelena stood there, looking at you almost expectantly as she helped you stand up. She gave a light chuckle as you tried your hardest to cover up. 

"The bolt outside was quite easy. Magnetic," she remarked, her eyes making a subtle glance all over you. "Did Commander Hange lock you here?"

"Yes," you answered shortly, the pout on your lips looked so cute to her.

"Seems like the Commander was quite protective of you," Yelena chuckled, leaning on the door frame. "I could understand why."

Her eyes are set on yours. Knowingly, you understood her intentions but you dismissed it and immediately changed the subject, "Shouldn't you be downstairs?"

"I should be, yes. But I heard you."

You closed the door halfway and muttered, "I think you should go back now... Thanks for opening the door for me."

"Oh, wouldn't you like to be at the party? I bet the Commander would love to see you there," she reasoned, a genuine coax that made something inside you ring. 

Maybe messing around downstairs doesn't sound so bad since you cannot sleep anyway. You quickly changed into the best, most alluring dress you can find. Yelena insisted on coming with you and patiently waited by the door. She offered an arm which you took, as you both went downstairs where the party remained spirited. 

Yelena sat with you on the bar, offering you a drink after the other as you chatted, smiling to yourselves as the party went on. You were too caught up with trying some drinks and invested in what Yelena was saying to even wonder where Hange was. 

Unbeknownst to you, they already spotted you from afar minutes ago. They didn't like how you were sitting too close to Yelena or sharing a drink after one with her. Somehow, they trusted you with moderation despite the argument earlier which you didn't live by. However, they couldn't remain sitting down at the table, seeing you on the verge of drunkenness. Maybe what made them snap was Yelena's arm around yours, squeezing your sides a bit too intimately.

Hange got up from their seat, saying polite excuse me's through the crowd as their gaze remained focused on where you are. They managed to reach you, and Yelena acknowledged them politely. Hange gave her a strained smile, putting an arm around your waist to make you stand up.

"Please excuse us. My wife seems to be drunk," they muttered, pushing your drink from your hand. They pulled you off your seat and muttered, "Come with me."

"I'm not even drunk yet," you argued but didn't try to pull away. It was true, but you were tipsy enough to be tempted. Maybe a little bolder than you usually were. Your eyes set upon Hange's sharp features, wishing you could kiss them right now. Maybe even ask them to carry you in bridal style just like the old times. 

"I'm not letting that happen," they muttered. "Do you want to embarrass yourself so bad?"

Hange guided you upstairs, a firm hand on your waist as they shoved the bedroom door open once again and pulled you back inside. They let you go, making you sit up in the bed as they locked the door once again. 

A minute passed and you were arguing again, bringing up the subject of how they became so cold to you despite your attempts to warm them up. And sometimes, they would barely glance at you, not even a hug or a kiss. 

Hange grew extremely frustrated, body and mind. They wanted this argument to end but couldn't stop their anger from boiling over. You didn't know how things escalated that quickly but your next memory was Hange on top of you, a hand hiked up under your skimpy dress. They placed kisses and bites against your neck and chest, causing you to whimper and grip their shoulder. 

"You said I wasn't giving you attention, right? Then fine, I'll give it to you," their voice was almost a hiss against your ear, making you shiver as they positioned you on the bed. Hange flipped you over, pressing a hand on your lower back while the other bundled around your hair. A soft gasp went through your lips as their hand snaked, downwards tugging down the lace of your underwear to your knees. 

Hange thumbed over your clit the way you liked it, their other fingers gathering the slick from when you touched yourself earlier. You hid your face against the sheets, embarrassed at how quickly you were submitting to their touch, how your body eagerly reacted to the touch it had longing for in such a long time. 

Hange smirked at the sight, wasting no time to push you more harshly to the bed. Their fingers went deeper inside you, smoothly gliding over your warmth from how drenched their fingers were. 

Usually, Hange would start off gently, maybe even tease you until your exposed skin is all marked up by love bites but Hange wouldn't do that this time. They pushed their fingers to the hilt, brutally drawing it back and forth with such force that shook your body. Their teeth nipped against your neck as they did so, relishing the sound of your whimpers. 

"You like that, hm?" They curled their fingers, pumping every digit until your wetness was starting to drip down your thighs. You could even feel their palm against your sensitive area from how fast and deep they pumped their fingers in. You caught the pillow between your teeth in a soundless scream after hearing several footsteps from the hallway near your bedroom.

"What? Don't want them to hear you?" they tugged on your hair, speaking a little louder just to taunt you. A thumb brushed over your aching clit, urging you to moan louder than you could possibly let out. 

Your fingers dug into the sheets, "Stop... fucking with me."

"Fine, dear wife," they smirked as they drew out their fingers the moment they felt your insides clenching against them. 

You whined, about to protest from your ruined orgasm but Hange repositioned you once again, forcing your legs open in front of them.

"I'm not done with you," they said in a low voice, unbuckling their belt. Hange pushed you into a harsh kiss, your wrists locked beneath their hand. You felt the tip of the phallic-shaped toy attached to them, slowly dragging it down your slit before Hange slammed it in one go. You screamed, throwing your head back from such a force against your sensitive flesh. 

Hange gripped your throat, their other hand mounting your leg over their shoulder. The new angle draws out a sharp cry from your throat as Hange begins to plunge the dildo back and forth, their hips moving resolutely. 

"You know," they began. "I was thinking of making love with you after that godforsaken party. Maybe to fuck that frustration out of you. Both of us, really. But no, you just had to annoy me tonight don't you?" 

Hange grunted, their lips parting to plant bruising kisses against your neck. They squeezed your throat a little tighter before saying, "Why were you with Yelena?" 

You had to catch your breath, maybe stabilize yourself against their shoulder so you could speak. 

"She was just being nice," you reasoned but that wasn't what Hange wanted to hear. Their pace increased, hips snapping against yours. 

"Ah, fuck—! Hange, s-slow down," you whined against their shoulder, gripping their arm from how much they were rocking your body. 

"Shut up and take it," Hange hissed, pulling your hips even closer so you could feel every inch of them. Their mouth kissed the bruises on your chest and neck, their eyes half-lidded as they thought about how pretty you looked all marked up. By this time, Hange had torn off what remained of the dress you're wearing, eager to have you bare. No sooner, you feel tiny pricks and bites on your chest, breasts, and stomach. Hange made sure their marks look like perfect artwork on your skin. 

Your head almost dangled against the edge of the bed, their hand remained gripping your throat as they plunged in and out of you, stretching and pummelling your insides. Hange would kiss the moans and whines from your lips, drawing numerous releases out of you until you became a writhing mess under them. Tears rolled down your cheeks, your insides burning from pain and pleasure. 

Hange heard a faint I can't take it anymore from you before letting your weakened body fall back to the bed. After a few long strokes, they pulled out of you, and a soaking mess dripped down both of your thighs, even your hips. Hange watched your eyes flutter, the gentle rising of your marked-up chest whenever you breathed, and how your lips slightly parted from what they did to you. You looked so beautiful in Hange's eyes, the most perfect image ever captured and framed in their mind. 

They wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you to their chest as they smoothed out your hair. A hand rubbed against your back, easing your body from trembling too much. Hange kissed down the bruises on your neck, inhaling the faint smell of your perfume. The soft, warmth of your body reminded them of how they missed you, of how much they longed to embrace you like this once again. 

"I'm not forgiving you just because you fucked me," Hange heard you mumble. You wanted to break away from their hug, but your body only leaned towards them despite your wishes.

"I know," they mumbled, their hand caressing your cheek, lifting up your chin so you would look at them. Their eyes softened, the way the brown earth turned a tender shade after rain. "Look, Y/N, I'm sorry. For everything."

Hange took your fingers to their lips. "I'm sorry I've been so frustrated and angry. Please allow me to make it up to you."

When you remained quiet against their chest, they continued, "I know that I haven't been affectionate with you in such a long time... Believe me I wanted to but it's just..."

Hange doesn't want to continue. They don't want to tell you what kind of hell being a commander felt like in such a demanding position. They want to appease the people, bring life-long peace, and make Eldia habitable again without any threat of being wiped out. 

They only kissed your hair and mumbled in a breaking voice, "Please forgive me, Y/N. I love you... so much, my sweetheart."

They felt a pang against their chest just from seeing the tears roll down your cheeks after they said those tender words. As if their love radiated through your heart despite weeks of misunderstanding, of not being able to tell each other what one truly feels. 

Your breath hitched against their chest, their arms preventing you from breaking apart any further. 

"I know... It's just that," you began as Hange wiped tears from your cheeks. "Sometimes... I don't even know you anymore."

Hange's heart trembled with the newfound pain from your broken confession but they remained listening.

"Sometimes I would assume you wanted a hug because you always do when you're tired, or maybe a cup of tea or a kiss from me but... there are times I feel like you're pushing me away. That I'm too overbearing, that you're getting sick of me," you sobbed. "I've often wondered if you even think about me."

Your sobs further broke their heart apart. Thinking how they made you feel puts even more resentment within them. They tried to smile with their lips against your forehead as they whispered, "Of course, my love... I think about you. Every day. And forgive me because in all those days, I've imagined nothing but a peaceful life for us after the war is over. I'm getting ahead of myself, I know. I've been so neglectful... I'm so sorry."

Hange let you cry on their chest, wrapping you up in several layers of blankets. 

"Hey, my sweet," Hange muttered, kissing the tears out of you. "How about I just cancel everything tomorrow? We'll go out, just the two of us."

"Really?" you sniffled.

"Really." Hange smiled. 

"That is if I can walk tomorrow. You roughed me up tonight," you smiled through tears. Hange laughed softly against your neck. That laugh you missed so much. 

The ballroom party remained lively downstairs, a room full of shallow chatting and emptying whiskey bottles. A place too intoxicating for genuineness and passion. War and hatred remained thick and prodding despite the fancy facade of the wealthy and powerful.

Hange dismissed all of it just for this night, finding peace the moment their head rested against your chest. Your heartbeats against their ear, your soft fingers running through their hair— each touch reminded them of the paradise they could only find with you. Hange forced the impending war away from their mind just for this time, relishing the memory of their first date with you, your first kiss, your wedding day— everything they want to hold and protect, to achieve peace for. 

"Maybe we can just spend the entire tomorrow here in bed," Hange proposed, a smirk curling on their lips as they continued. "There are still more things I wanted to do with you."

likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated, sweethearts <3

#hange zoë #hanji zoë #hange zoe #hanji zoe #hange zoe x reader #hanji zoe x reader #hange zoe x you #hanji zoe x you #hange zoe x y/n #hanji zoe x y/n #hange zoe smut #hanji zoe smut #hange x reader #hanji x reader #hange x y/n #hanji x y/n #hange x you #hanji x you #aot x reader #aot x y/n #aot x you #aot x female reader #attack on titan fanfiction #shingeki no kyojin fanfiction #✂ rem writes____✍︎

[morningnoodles]

Some years after the Battle of the Five Armies and rebuilding Erebor together, Thorin abdicated the throne, and along with Bilbo (who was Consort under the Mountain) lived happily ever after unto the end of their days. These are snippets of their lives in retirement.

bagginshieldtober day 31 - retire ♡ the final piece for this month!

firstly, big thanks to @smolestboop for creating this wonderful event. it's been so fun to see everyone's take on the prompts and joining in myself. ♡

secondly, i was very much inspired by three lovely creators and bagginshield fan works for these snippets. so from left to right, top to bottom:

their exchange is from this hilarious post by @ihobbit

i was thinking about a Very Specific Chapter from the lovely @conkers-theficwriter's bagginshieldtober fic "Stealing Moments, Moments Away" whilst drawing this particular snippet. iykyk haha please please please read it!!!

the line is from one of my favourite post-BotFA oneshot by @storiesforsomeone, "Forever is composed of nows", which also heavily inspired this imagery. i've always wanted to draw a specific scene from the fic and i'm happy i finally had a go at it. please please please read it!!!

and lastly, close ups (and more ramblings lmao) under the cut ☆

the people of Erebor don't really quite know how to take their former King and Consort walking around like a normal old bickering couple but they're happy for them. ♡

i've wanted to draw clingy Thorin for a while haha! he likes to wear Bilbo's quilted robe (particularly when Bilbo is away for Consort duties). even when it doesn't really fit him well. he wears it so often that Bilbo finally had a similar quilted robe made for him which is what he's wearing there. he still likes to hug Bilbo's own robe close especially when he's not around haha

they try and visit the Shire and Bag End often. at some point Bilbo grows a bit self-conscious of his grey hair and Thorin happily takes the role of a loving husband who reminds him he was, is and will always be ever wonderful. ♡

That's an oak tree over there.

#bagginshieldtober #bagginshield #the hobbit #the hobbit fanart #bilbo baggins #thorin oakenshield #thorin x bilbo #thilbo #my art ☆

[kiss-me-cill-me]

could you write a fic about any cillian character, of ur choice, were its the readers first time and he is really sweet and gentle? Luv your writings btw!!!

Any character, you say...? 👀 Well, then I guess it's time to take a shot at my white whale. I love zombies, I love 28 Days Later, and I love Jim. I have been somewhat avoiding writing for him because I didn't feel like I had any strong concepts for a fic, and I struggle to get his "voice" right in my head for the dialogue. But gosh darn it, the world needs more Jim fics. And I feel like this prompt just fits him. Thank you for the request, anon, and for giving me the push I needed!

Morning Light

Pairing: Jim (28 Days Later) x Reader

Word Count: 3.6k

Summary: In a rare moment of peace in a strange new world, you and Jim find comfort in each other's arms.

Warnings: Smut, loss of virginity (for reader, not Jim), oral (f receiving), praise, brief mention of past attempted sexual assault (basically what happens in canon), for the purposes of this fic we're gonna pretend that Jim doesn't get shot in the stomach lmao

***Please read the warnings before continuing. Minors DNI***

Jim’s lips taste like something you can’t quite put your finger on. Whatever it is, it has you swooning. Dizzy with desire as you inhale; trying to steady your breath while your hand trails down over his bare chest.

“We really don’t have to,” he murmurs.

“I know,” you reply. “But I want to.”

You lean in for another kiss. Bodies pressed so tightly together, laying on the rickety little bed in the tiny cottage you now call home, you truly do want nothing more. Jim, stretched lazily out beneath you, brings a hand up to cup your face and deepen the kiss. Your senses swell with that scent, whatever it is, and your eyes flutter closed against the light that streams in through the windows.

“Are you sure?” he asks, pulling away again, just enough to speak.

His nose still brushes softly against yours, and his thumb trails over your cheek. You feel yourself melt deeper into his touch, almost too distracted to remember to respond.

“I’m sure.”

“But… really? So soon after…”

You know what he’s about to say. What he doesn’t want to remember; choosing instead to let himself trail off as he smooths his fingers over your jawline. But that - that horrible thing that almost happened - is all part of the reason why you want Jim so badly. You want your first time to be with him. To be special; with someone you truly care for. 

Years and years ago, when all of your friends had been so desperate to grow up and run headfirst into their sexuality, you had been content to wait. But now, things have changed. Being alive suddenly feels fragile and impermanent, and your dangerous encounter with the soldiers has taught you that life doesn’t wait for you. Nor does it wait for that perfect moment.

Although, this moment here with Jim does feel somehow perfect. Jim’s body against yours is warm, and even with both of your sweaters flung over the side of the bed, you feel a heat washing over your chest as Jim wraps his strong arms around you a little tighter.

“Jim, are you really the nervous one here?” You laugh, your voice a bit airy and high as it betrays your own nerves.

“M’not nervous,” he scoffs. “I’m just… I don’t want to hurt you, or force you into anything.”

You let your body sink into his. Jim pulls you even closer, pressing your weight into his chest. Your forehead rests lightly against his, noses still touching as you laugh again.

“Girl gets you naked in bed like this, and you still think you’re forcing her?” you tease.

“Well, fair.” Jim relents. “You were the one who took off my clothes.”

Jim nuzzles into another kiss as he speaks, breaking some of the tension and making you clutch at his chest. This time, his lips linger against yours a little longer, parting just slightly so the tip of his tongue can dart out. You feel the ache inside of you deepen, your body calling out to his.

“But you’re sure, though?” Jim asks again. He moves his hand to your shoulder, steadying you. “You do want to? We don’t have t-”

His words are cut off by your hand drifting lower, until your fingers are wrapped tightly around him. Despite Jim’s insistence that you don’t “have to,” it’s abundantly clear that he wants to.

His skin is like silk under your fingers. Your hand moves slowly up and down, coaxing him on as you bite at his lip. Jim breaks the kiss to lean his head back into the pillow, eyes still shut as an expression of bliss overtakes his features.

“Okay - you’re sure you haven’t done this before?” he jokes, one blue eye cracking open to look at you.

You try to contain a laugh.

“Don’t flatter me,” you tease back. “It’s probably just been months since you’ve gotten any…”

“Ouch, insulting my masculinity and yet she still expects me to fuck her.”

Jim meets your sly look with one of his own, just as your expression crumbles into embarrassment. His smirk quickly turns into a smile, seeing the effect his words have.

“And she likes a little dirty talk, does she?”

Your face heats up even more, and Jim kisses the tip of your nose. 

“Sorry, love. Just can’t resist teasin’ ya,” he hums.

Despite your inexperience, you feel certain that you’re not supposed to feel this flustered. But, Jim has that effect on you. He always has. The pressure that’s been steadily building between your legs suddenly feels even more uncomfortable.

“Having second thoughts?” Jim laughs as you wriggle against him.

“You wish,” you challenge, pressing your nose against his a bit harder.

Suddenly, Jim grabs your waist and flips you over, so that his weight is pressed over you. He sinks a kiss into the hollow of your neck - still gentle, but with a hint of lust now that’s becoming impossible to ignore.

“Guess I might as well just give in if y’want it so badly,” Jim whispers, his breath fanning hot against your chest.

His words send a thrill of excitement through you; bursting out from your lungs and rushing all the way down to your toes. You bring your hands up to his shoulders, clinging to him as he pulls away from you. You’re confused for a moment, until he looks up into your eyes as he sinks lower down your body.

“How’s this?” Jim starts. “First I’ll eat you out, an’ then we can see how you’re feeling.”

The air seems to catch in your throat, but you nod. Jim plants a soft kiss on your stomach before drifting lower, hands parting your legs so that he can settle in.

“Lucky me,” Jim says, taking a long look at you. “Pretty face and a pretty pus-”

“Jim!” you cry, covering your face with your hands.

He kisses the inside of your leg, teasing with a gentle nip of his teeth.

“Ah, don’t get all shy on me, now,” he murmurs.

You look down to see a devilish glint in Jim’s eyes, staring back up at you. They’re so blue, you think you could drown in them. But, you fight to shake yourself out of the trance.

“It’s hard not to when you’re… looking at it,” you complain, laughing nervously.

“Hey, don’t be embarrassed - I mean it. You’re beautiful.”

Your cheeks burn hotter than ever as Jim continues.

“Every part of you is beautiful.”

He kisses your leg again, and before you have a chance to respond, his lips have moved over your core, and you gasp. Jim’s mouth is warm and wet; his tongue pressed flat against you as he gives you a moment to get used to the sensation. It’s so different from anything you’ve ever felt. Of course, you had touched yourself there before - but Jim’s tongue is nothing like the rough pads of your fingers. It’s so soft, and you feel yourself sink further into the mattress, prompting a low creak from the ancient bedframe.

Jim’s tongue moves just a centimeter, brushing up against your clit as he sucks gently into his mouth. You can’t help the soft sigh that leaves you, or the way your fingers grab onto the bed sheets, fabric bunching up in your grip. 

“How’s that feel, love?” Jim asks, breaking away.

“It’s… wow,” you answer, already a little out of breath.

“Rave reviews,” Jim jokes, smile creeping back over his face. “Tell all your friends, yeah?”

You have half a mind to shove him, if only you could find the willpower to reach down between your legs. As it is, all you can do is let out another breathy sigh. Your body feels strangely heavy, and you use every ounce of your strength to move your hips down toward him.

“Jim… more,” you plead.

You expect him to make another quip, but instead, you feel his tongue press against you again, the fan of his breath tickling you as he sighs happily. Your fingers curl, and your back arches. One of Jim’s hands comes up to find yours, peeling your fingers out from the blankets so that they can intertwine with his. You squeeze his hand, feeling yourself grow more and more desperate as the swirl of new sensations overwhelm you.

“J-Jim-”

You barely get to start your sentence before the pleasure reaches its peak, washing over you like the rays of soft sunlight still pouring in through the windows. Your sharp cry turns into a gasp, breath hitching as your whole body seems to buzz. Jim’s hand in yours anchors you, as his lips kiss you gently through your release.

When he sits up, Jim’s face is just a bit too smug.

“What are you smiling at?” you groan, throwing your head back into the pillow to stare up at the ceiling.

“Making you feel good,” Jim answers sincerely.

He kisses his way back up your body, finally pressing his lips to your shoulder and leaving another small bite.

“How are you feeling?” he asks.

You sigh, letting all of the air leave your lungs. The pause lingers for a brief moment before you answer.

“Like I’m floating.”

“That good, huh?”

You can practically hear the smirk in Jim’s voice. Weakly, you bat at his arms.

“Don’t get all cocky,” you warn.

“I thought that’s what you wanted.”

Jim really is unbearable. You look at each other for a moment, Jim’s eyes fixed intently on your face, while you can still hardly focus on what’s in front of you. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer.

“Still want to keep going?” Jim asks you.

“Mmmm,” you sigh, nodding your head.

Jim’s hand slides down to cup your sex, one finger brushing against your entrance. He leans up to kiss you properly, pausing at the feel of your tongue in his mouth as you press past his lips. Whatever you had tasted there before was gone; replaced by your own slightly tangy arousal. Jim groans, and a deep hum fills your mouth.

“Let me know if you want me to stop,” he whispers.

But as soon as he pushes past your resistance, you know there’s no chance of you stopping him. The stretch is too good. You’ve done this before to yourself, too - but your fingers are slender compared to Jim’s. His fill you up and have you nearly seeing stars as you cling to him, moving to grasp his arms for support.

“Feels good?”

You nod, not trusting yourself to speak. The stretch only stings a little bit, and you’re so wet you barely even notice. The pleasure takes over as Jim pumps in and out of you, coating his finger with your slick.

“One more,” you beg.

“Be patient,” Jim scolds, as he continues to slowly work you open. “Try to relax a bit more.”

You do; letting your body settle down onto the mattress. As you relax your muscles, trying to focus again on your steady breathing, Jim kisses the edge of your jaw.

“Okay,” he says. “Tell me if this is too much.”

Despite your best attempts to loosen up, the addition of a second finger is just a bit painful, stretching you beyond anything you’ve felt before. You jump, a little surprised, then relax into the feel of it.

“Still alright?”

“Mmm-hm,” you reply, breathing slowly out through your nose.

“Good,” Jim breathes. “Doing so well for me, love.”

His words make you melt, and you feel yourself clenching around his fingers. Jim lets out a low moan.

“Fuck,” he laughs. “You’re gonna feel amazing. Can’t wait ‘til you’re wrapped around me.”

There’s that familiar heat on your face, rushing in as Jim makes your whole body burn with his words yet again. Not as filthy as before, but somehow the genuine lust in his voice is even worse. You feel him yearning for you; still pressed hard against your leg as he patiently stretches you out. You tilt your head back into the pillows, silently begging him to kiss your neck, and Jim’s lips press over your pulse.

“Jim?” you sigh.

“Hm?”

“Can you please stop stalling and fuck me now?”

You feel Jim smirk against your neck, clearly enjoying the fact that you have a dirty mouth, too - when you want to. He presses one more kiss to your collarbone.

“Stalling, am I? First time I’ve heard a girl call it that.”

Jim laughs, briefly, and you feel his breath fan over you again.

“I’d ask if you’re sure you’re ready,” he taunts. “But I really don’t think I’ve ever made anyone this wet before.”

You’re so turned on you almost forget to be embarrassed, but the feeling of Jim shifting to line up with your entrance is enough to make that burning heat creep over your cheeks again.

“Are you ready, though?” Jim asks, kissing you quickly before pulling back to let you answer.

“I am.”

You reach up to wrap your arms tight around him again as he sinks into you, pressing forward inch by inch. Your eyes widen by the time he’s halfway in, shocked at how it just keeps going. Jim feels your hesitation and stops.

“Everything alright?” he pants. Clearly, Jim is having a bit of trouble composing himself, too.

“It’s fine,” you reply. “Just… big.”

Jim laughs, a little more strained than usual as your walls press all around him.

“You’ll really have to stop stroking my ego like that if you want this to last more than five minutes, love,” he teases.

“Jim…” you start to complain.

“I know, I know. ‘Shut up and fuck me,’ she says,” Jim mutters. He presses into you a bit more, and a soft, desperate sigh leaves your lips. “Or at least, she would if she could think straight,” he continues.

He’s right; you’re not thinking of anything other than him, and how he’s filling you up so completely. Stretching out your walls and touching places inside of you that you didn’t know even existed, until now. Replacing the dull ache of your arousal with an unfamiliar pressure - but certainly not an unwelcome one.

“How’s it feel?” Jim asks.

“It’s… different. Feels kind of weird,” you admit.

“Okay, you don’t have to keep my ego in check that much,” Jim laughs. His eyes meet yours for a brief second, and then close. “But, fuck, you feel so fucking good.”

Jim’s face dips down to your shoulder, and you can tell that he’s barely still able to hold it together. Although you had been joking earlier, you’re certain that it truly has been months for Jim. You can’t say for sure when the last time he got laid was, but it had to have been before the start of everything. Poor guy. This is the perfect opportunity to mess with him. Call it payback for all the teasing.

“Alright,” you sigh, trying to keep your voice light and jovial. It’s harder than it should be when your heart is pounding out of your chest. “I got what I wanted out of you; we can stop now.”

Jim groans above you, his forehead pressing even deeper into the crook of your shoulder.

“You’re joking,” he whines, one hand gripping at your waist. His fingers tighten a little. “Please say you’re joking.”

You stay silent, lips pursed together in a barely-contained smile. Jim pulls back to look at you, and instantly notices the smug look on your face.

“You’re unbelievable,” Jim huffs, pressing his lips against your neck once again in a hungry kiss.

He pinches your hip, making you squirm. Jim steadies you, holding you in place as he plants another kiss on your lips, then pulls back.

“We haven’t even gotten to the good part yet,” he teases.

“You mean the good part wasn’t watching you almost cum all over the sheets just from eating me out?”

Now it’s Jim’s turn to be flustered, and you watch with delight as a soft dusting of pink crosses his cheeks.

“You’d better watch it,” Jim says, squeezing you again. “I was gonna be gentle, you know. But if you keep this up, I might just have to fuck you silly.”

You giggle, the sound of your bright laughter filling the room. For a few seconds, the only thing in the world that matters is Jim. Every moment that’s brought you here, no matter how painfully etched in stone, is worth it to be here with him.

“Will you, though?” you say, bringing Jim’s face a bit closer so yours can look into his eyes. “Be gentle?”

“Of course,” Jim hums, leaning down to kiss your soft lips. “Are you still feeling okay?”

“Yes…”

And you are. You've gotten used to the stretch, and the strange pressure has built into a need that has you fighting to stop yourself from pushing up against Jim’s hips, desperate for friction.

“You sure?” Jim asks, sensing that something has been left unsaid.

“I just… I want to feel you move,” you admit, hiding your face in the crook of his neck.

Jim turns his head to kiss your temple, letting his lips hover over your warm skin.

“That's the good part, love,” Jim teases. “Wrap your legs around me,’kay?”

You do as he says, bringing your legs up to fold around his waist. It causes Jim to hit at a new angle inside you, and for a second you think about backing out. This feels like it could be too much; like he's able to press too deeply inside of you - and the thought of giving someone else so much of yourself is daunting.

But when Jim starts to move, gently and carefully, all of your worries disappear. The first few times he thrusts feel a bit strange, but soon, the feeling is making you lightheaded in the best possible way. Not to mention the way that the swell of his head seems to part you, making you clench at his absence and sigh in pure bliss when he fills you back up. You can feel every inch of yourself as he slowly rocks in and out, hips staying close to avoid overwhelming you.

“Jim!” you cry, squeezing your legs around him a little harder.

“You like it there?” he grunts, his voice gentle but laced with desire.

He changes his angle to hit the spot again, and this time your fingers press into his back. Jim kisses you, swallowing your moans as you feel yourself building toward your release. This time, with Jim pressing deep inside you, you feel yourself clamp down around him.

“Gonna come for me again, pretty girl?” Jim whispers.

Your body is too rigid to even nod as you feel it finally wash over you - a wave of pleasure more intense than you can handle. You're panting and laughing all at once as Jim presses kisses all over your face.

“That was incredible,” he praises, softly. 

You look up to see him, his face framed so perfectly in the glow of the morning light. His lips are slightly parted, awe plainly written in the way his eyes trail over you. You have a sudden urge to run your fingers through his cropped hair, and press his mouth to yours.

But instead, Jim leans down to give you another gentle kiss. That taste on his lips is back again, slightly sweet and utterly addictive. 

“Enjoy your first time, love?” Jim teases, pulling himself out of you with one final, toe-curling drag. He kisses you again, lips pressed firm against yours like there’s truly nowhere else in the world he’d rather be.

You surface from your post-sex haze just long enough to be confused. Aren't these things supposed to end with a little more… bravado?

“Jim, aren't you gonna…? Don't you want to…?”

“Not this time, love,” he cuts in. “Like I said, don't want to hurt you.”

“You wouldn’t hurt me!” you protest.

Jim pauses, still hovering just above you. He leans down to whisper in your ear, his low voice getting a shade darker.

“Maybe not, but I do think I might break the poor bed if I let myself do everything I want to ya,” he murmurs.

“We can sleep on the floor,” you say, responding without hesitation.

Jim laughs softly, trailing his fingers over the swell of your hip. He pulls back to look at you again, blue eyes swimming with lust.

“Don't worry, love - you look so good like this, I'm not gonna be able to resist it for long. But for now…”

Jim flops down onto the rickety bed, pulling you with him to rest on his chest. The rhythmic rise and fall of his breath makes you feel calm, soothing you all the way down from your high. Jim brings a hand up to cradle your neck, pressing you into him just a bit more so that he can lean down to kiss your forehead.

As you lay there together, your eyes flutter closed.

“Jim?”

“Mm?”

“Thank you.”

“For what?” he scoffs. 

Same playful Jim that you first fell for, weeks ago now. You can't help but smile, and snuggle up a bit closer.

“For always being here for me,” you answer.

“Of course, love.” Jim's breaths are slowing down now, lulling you into the same sleep that he's quickly falling into. “Any time.”

You kiss him, lips pressing into his bare chest, and Jim’s arms squeeze you tightly. As the sunlight streams in through the dusty windows, blanketing both of you in its warmth, you realize just how lucky you are. You press an ear against his chest, listening to the thrum of Jim’s heartbeat.

#jim 28 days later #jim 28 days later x reader #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy smut #28 days later smut #jim 28 days later smut #LemmyFics

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

Dad tan?

Either like headcanons or a full little prompt. Anything of the sorts

hii!! yes yes and yes, I love dad tan. some of these are probs mentioned in other hc’s. but hope you like it💌

DAD TAN HC’s

wc. 721

— I think it's been established that tan is a girl dad. he suits a son too though a daughter fits him so much better

— he is a great dad, the kind of one who didn't have a solid father figure growing up but wants to be what he couldn't have. just bc he didn't have a good dad, doesn't mean his kids have to have the same

— he wants to give them everything he didn’t have

— he was very anxious about being a dad, constantly worrying about messing up and being shit or them turning out like him, but with your reassurance, he got more comfortable with the idea of having kids

— he also worries a lot bc of work - something bad happening to him and leaving you on your own with the kids

— I feel like maybe he wants lots of kids, like a big house full of your children, though he is a man and he has no say in how many kids you have (had to be said lmao, can't stand when guys say they want 6+ kids) but realistically that's not possible or suitable for his lifestyle/ occupation, so you have 2 kids, one boy, one girl (but both under 7)

— he has small pictures of all of you (you and the kids) tucked in his wallet so he can have you close at all times. his lock screen is a picture of all 4 of you from a recent family holiday. and then you're his home screen <33 

— you've both taught your kids very well; good manners, polite, not too spoilt (even though they get LOADS of gifts from dad tan) they have things in moderation, so they're well-rounded and behaved kids. they have their moments, but overall, they're good. I think he hates snotty, shitty and bratty kids, so he's made sure that his are nowhere like that

— the boy looks like tan and has more aspects of your personality, but the girl looks like you and has more aspects of tan's personality. they're a perfect mix of you both, AND IT'S REALLY FUCKING CUTE !!

— one of the kids (or both) definitely copied a swear that tan said, so now you put a ban on curses around the house. no swearing when the kids are awake

— you have sunday dinners at your shared house with the kids and uncle lemon comes over. he accidentally gets them all hyper and wound up before dinner, then tan curses him out, saying how they're going to be a nightmare to get sorted. he apologies then turns to the kids and laughs, basically mocking tan and then helps get them cleaned up for dinner

— you both have a system, one of you is in charge of one kid getting ready for bed, and the other is in charge of the other kid. you swap over halfway to share time between both kids. you do things together and it works, sharing the responsibilities to lighten the load

— after the kids are in bed, you and tan have some time together. as much as he loves his kids, you still come above. either you want some time apart to recuperate, like you have a bath, tan watches football or you both snuggle on the sofa watching shitty tv and having a couple drinks

— loves his kids, loves his family💔

— when he gets the chance, he'd plan dad days, where he does something special with the kids or one of them at a time. either taking you all out for the day, going to a kiddy theme park, or taking the son to a westham football game or the daughter on a shopping day around harrod's

— he minimises time away from work to spend as much time at home with you and the kids

— he takes the kiddos out to places he and lemon liked as kids. taking them to cafes they used to regularly visit 

— has afternoon naps on the sofa when the kids wear him out. he dad snores too. sometimes you find all 3 of them on the couch, each kid tucked into the sides of tan

— in conclusion, something 'tangerine' something, is the bestest husband and dad ever

— — — — — — — — — — ☆ — — — — — — — — — —

no tan taglist for this one as don’t want to spam you

#ask #tangerine #tangerine x reader #tangerine bullet train #tangerine headcanon #dad tangerine #tangerine fluff

[sundrop-writes]

Ghosting

Mike Schmidt x Fem!Reader

Summary:

Mike has been in love with you for as long as he can remember. For about as long as the two of you have been best friends. He always thought he would have more time to work up to confessing those big, dangerous feelings for you - until something more dangerous swooped in and stole any time he had left with you.

Mike Schmidt x Fem!Reader. Star-Crossed Lovers. Pure Angst. Set during the events of the movie (and features spoilers for the plot).

Word Count: 3,700

Horror Characters Masterlist | AO3 Link

Full list of warnings and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: this fic contains major spoilers for the film - so if you haven't watched it yet and you're just here for Josh Hutcherson being sad and beautiful (and if you want to watch the film unspoiled) be warned; this fic does use Y/N; this fic is almost pure angst - the beginning is fluffy, but that only exists to make the angst hurt more; this fic does not have a happy ending; hurt, no comfort; this fic has mentions of Mike's past traumas and him having symptoms of PTSD; the reader is a mother figure to Abby; Mike refers to the reader as his 'wife' (in his mind, not in dialogue); Mike is in love with the reader (and it's implied that she knows this/can sense his feelings) but he doesn't get a chance to actually confess to her and they aren't in a romantic relationship at any point during this fic; (uh, kind of spoiler for the fic but this was in the prompt/request) - major character death: the reader character dies after being stabbed by Springtrap/William Afton/The Yellow Rabbit (gotta love fnaf - when a character has that many names); mentions of blood; descriptions of violence - descriptions of the fight between Afton and Mike, descriptions of the reader being stabbed by Afton; Abby is there to witness the reader's death; idk what the other warnings are aside from major angst - this will be an emotional gut punch. Anyway, please enjoy it lmao.

A/N: The title of this fic comes from the song Ghosting by Mother Mother. I was listening to different songs trying to pick a title, and I really like how this one fits. How their romantic love was like a ghost in their lives - not discussed, but felt between the both of them, and after she's gone, she becomes a ghost in his life.

...

Mike woke up to the smell of pancakes. 

Typically, mornings were his least favorite time of day. Seeing as he was the kind of person who didn’t sleep well, didn’t sleep at all, or found himself consumed by nightmares when he did - most mornings, he was too tired to comprehend the world around him. Mornings were a chaotic mess for him as he tried to pull himself back from the brink of insanity while operating his sluggish body with far too little energy until he got some coffee into his system. He came to resent mornings, as for him, they existed only in a dreadful haze. 

And he rarely ate a proper breakfast because of it. Most of the time, his ‘breakfast’ consisted of a large cup of coffee and a few pieces of Eggo waffle that he would snag off of Abby’s plate going out the door as he scolded her for not finishing it all. 

The second that the pleasant smell of freshly cooked food reached his nose, his stomach growled. 

Through the sleepy fog of his brain, hearing voices - multiple voices - coming from down the hallway, he realized that it wasn’t just Abby and some muffled cartoon characters from the TV. 

“Which one?” Abby posed, her voice bright and curious as ever. 

“Personally… I like the red sweater. It matches the red laces in the shoes you picked,” You replied, raising your voice slightly to be heard over the sizzling of the pan. 

You were helping her pick out her clothes. Abby would have never wanted Mike’s help on the subject. So often she scoffed at him if he suggested that he could help her put her hair in a ponytail or if he told her that she should put on a jacket if it was cold outside. But she asked you for your advice about clothes because she admired you. She thought you were pretty, as she had told Mike on multiple occasions (not so subtly hinting that he should date you). 

Mike heard footsteps thundering down the hallway as Abby rushed to her room to get dressed, likely carting along the clothes you had helped to pick. He distantly wondered how you had gotten into the house before he was even awake. 

And then, he remembered - a few weeks ago, he had given you a key to his place. 

It was something that had come after he had accidentally locked his own set of keys in the car, his mind jumbled and forgetful after not having much sleep the night before. And with the evening ticking on and the takeout you had picked up for the three of you quickly getting cold in your hands (everyone eager to simply get into the house and eat) - Mike had been hit with the realization that any solutions to unlock the car - the spare key, a metal coat hanger, a phone to call a mechanic - were all locked in the house. 

So he had hoisted Abby in through her bedroom window (after scolding her for not locking it) and gotten her to unlock the front door. And shortly after that, he had given you a house key, because generally, you were better with things like that. 

You were much more organized - your mind a clear, calm palace compared to the chaos that Mike often found himself swamped in. You were someone who worked incredibly well under stress, and that was why Mike valued you so much in his life. Right from a childhood where the two of you had pulled pranks together and he had been copying your homework, to the time he had leaned on you during the initial stress of Garett’s disappearance - up until now. When he was a messy, disorganized adult who still needed you far more than he was ever willing to admit. 

It was just one of the many reasons he admired you so much. You took care of him in ways he couldn’t even put into words. 

He smiled to himself as he heard more of your chatter with Abby. Previously, he had remarked that the key was for ‘emergencies only’ - but he couldn’t bring himself to care all too much about the breach of that rule as he tumbled out of bed. Especially when the smell of bacon also reached his nose as he walked to the bathroom. 

It was when he was pulling on his pants that he glanced at the clock and realized he was already running on the late side. Not too late yet, but he had to put some urgency in his step. He had somehow forgotten to set his alarm, today of all days, when he would be meeting with a career counselor after the disastrous incident that got him fired from the mall. 

He rushed down the hallway struggling with his tie, bringing his usual air of chaos with him. His heart instantly warmed at the sight of you and Abby - you had her sitting at the table, somehow so much more polite and cooperative for you, with a glass of juice beside her plate while you scooped freshly made pancakes onto it. 

“You know, usually when most people break and enter, they don’t make breakfast,” Mike commented, his voice cool and jovial as he grew increasingly frustrated with his tie. 

He thought he was forming the knot correctly, but it kept falling loose in his hands, causing a deep crease across his brows as he frowned at the fabric. 

You giggled at this - both at his words and at his obvious struggle. You put the pan on the counter as you walked toward him, leaving Abby to pick up the bottle of syrup and begin thoroughly drowning her pancakes while you weren’t looking. You knocked Mike’s hands away in that wordless kind of care and began calmly tying his tie. 

“Well, I considered going the traditional route, but there’s nothing worth stealing here.” You remarked, playing off the banter that was only built between the two of you after years of friendship. “Plus, The Breakfast Burglar has such a nice ring to it.” 

“That makes it sound like you steal people’s breakfast.” Abby giggled. 

“I would, if certain little girls didn’t drown their pancakes in syrup.” You replied, not bothering to look over your shoulder at her to know what she was doing. “That’s enough, Abs.” 

She rolled her eyes harshly at this, but put the bottle of syrup down and picked up her knife and fork. 

Mike grinned widely at this. You were more like a mom to her than their own mother ever was. And the fact that you knew her so well and took care of her without question always brought him joy. 

His smile only widened when you smoothed a warm hand down the front of his chest, and he looked down to see a perfectly neat knot in the front of his tie. He felt a tingling swarm of butterflies in his stomach at your touch - something that threatened to spread through him and turn him into a dizzy, lovesick fool. Urgently, he needed to distract himself with something else. 

His eyes shifted over to the side table, and he realized that his keys weren’t where he usually threw them down when he got home. 

“Have you seen my-?” 

Once again, you were two steps ahead of him. More organized than him. 

“Keys.” You said, turning around to the counter and holding the key ring up on your fingers. “Your resume, formatted and printed.” You held up a folder that contained this as well. “Your wallet, and breakfast burrito.” 

You gathered up his wallet and a warm bundle wrapped in tinfoil - his breakfast. The small notion of caring, the fact that you thought ahead to make something he could eat while rushing out the door - it caused that dangerous tingle to overtake his stomach once again. As you crossed the room and placed all the items in his hands, he had the intense urge to lean over and kiss you - he knew the domesticity was crippling. 

You had been his best friend for years, you had helped him take care of Abby for as long as the little girl could remember. You felt more like a wife to him than anybody else ever would. 

And yet, you had absolutely no clue how he felt about you. It would have felt like the most natural thing in the world for him to lean over and kiss you goodbye before leaving - just like a husband would do with his wife. But the two of you weren’t married. You weren’t even dating. You took care of him because you were his best friend. Because you had always taken care of him the way a best friend should. 

“What would I do without you?” He said, knowing that the pure fondness in his voice could have easily given him away - if he didn’t talk to you like that all the time. 

“Hmm… probably run around naked and starving,” You chuckled, shrugging as you walked back over to Abby and sat down beside her at the table. “Now get going. I’ll take Abby to school.” 

“Have a good day, Abs.” Mike said, wishing his sister well - only to receive a mindless nod in reply before she went back to chatting with you about something, excitedly telling you a story involving one of her imaginary friends while you watched her with absolutely rapt attention. 

He moved toward the door, but he found himself caught up in the sight of you. You were a hero in their little world as you rushed to save one of Abby’s drawings from some syrup that dripped off her plate. When you complimented the picture, she glowed with a smile he hadn’t seen in days. 

That was a huge part of it, too. The love he felt for you that grew more agonizing each day. You brought out all the best parts of Abby, as well as keeping Mike himself from going truly insane. 

For a single moment, he wondered if he should tell you. He wondered if he should just blurt out the words before running out the door, leaving you to simmer in it. Giving you time to think about it - to yell at him about it later. 

It hovered on his tongue. 

I love you. I’ve been in love with you for years. 

But when you looked over and saw him still standing by the door, he locked eyes with you, and suddenly it was gone again, swallowed up inside of him like a nasty ache that would live there forever. 

“Go, Mike! You’re gonna be late!” You said, your voice edging with casual laughter. 

You picked up one of the couch cushions and swatted him with it as you walked by to get Abby a paper towel from the kitchen. 

No. He would tell you some other time. 

Perhaps he wouldn’t work up the courage to tell you at all. 

… 

He was going to die. He was going to be killed. 

And he wasn’t going to get the chance to tell you that he was in love with you. 

Strangely enough, that was the one thing Mike was thinking about as he laid on the cold, dirty floor of Freddy Fazbear’s condemned pizzeria. His stomach burned with searing pain as he received another kick from the large, intimidating monster that he knew only as the Yellow Rabbit. 

He was going to die. He wouldn’t get to tell you how he felt. He would never get to see you ever again. 

He was going to save Abby. He was going to make sure that she got out of here, escaped somehow. And you would take care of her. That thought was a singular comfort to him as he felt one of his ribs crack from the metal (poorly disguised by the foam and fabric around the edges of the suit) colliding with his torso.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” The Rabbit mocked him. “I killed your brother, now I get to kill you. Symmetry, my friend!” 

“Get away from him!” 

Mike almost thought that the intense pain had caused him to hallucinate, or that he had hit his head on the floor hard when he had been thrown down - it couldn’t actually be you.

But he heard your voice, fierce and fiery as ever, defending him as you had so many times before. He struggled to get his head up to look, but he caught a glimpse of the Yellow Rabbit as the strange animal collapsed. 

You had picked up one of the chairs, and brought it down over the Rabbit’s head, perfectly imitating something that would have been on Monday Night Raw. Except this was pure wood, not a collapsing chair, and all the pieces that splintered and fell in front of Mike as the Rabbit collapsed were because of the pure force of your hit. The fury of which you defended him and his life. 

“Y/N!” Abby yelled your name from across the room. 

She rushed into your arms as you stepped over the Rabbit’s prone body, and you swept her into a tight hug. 

“Are you okay? Are you hurt? What’s going on?” You rushed to ask, brushing her hair out of her face to inspect for any injuries. 

“I’m fine.” Abby told you. “Mike-” She then turned to her brother, frantic, and pulled away from you to fall to her knees by his side. 

“Mike, what the hell is going on?” You asked, on your knees at his side just as quickly. 

You turned him over on his back, inspecting him for injuries now - definitely not liking what you found. 

Abby held his hand and he grasped it right back, his head still dizzy from the thorough ass-kicking he had just experienced. 

You gasped when you saw blood leaking through his shirt. He grunted in pain when you pressed your hand into the wound, clearly trying to lessen that bleeding. 

“What - what are you doing here?” He croaked out. 

As much as he was thankful for you swooping in and saving him, he wished that you were safe somewhere else. Anywhere but here. 

“Abby left her jacket in my car, and when I went to return it, I saw your Aunt Jane passed out on the floor, and - and, I just had a bad feeling.” You rushed to explain. “Somehow, I figured you’d be here.” 

Mike hadn’t exactly told you the details of what was going on. 

As close as the two of you were, he wasn’t sure if you would be entirely receptive to the concept of Abby being ‘friends’ with robots that were controlled by ghost children, and Mike somehow feeling connected to his own missing… dead brother by being in this place. He had simply told you that his new job was a night shift at a creepy old abandoned pizza place. 

But of course, you were two steps ahead of him. As always. 

You pulled back your hand to inspect the bleeding, and Mike groaned again. 

“Should I call an ambulance?” You asked, and Mike shook his head furiously. 

“No, we have to-” 

We have to leave. You have to leave. You have to get Abby out of here, to safety. 

All of those words dissolved on his tongue as he watched with utter shock. He wanted to scream as a big yellow hand clasped onto your shoulder from behind, and soon, a pair of large rabbit ears rose up from the floor. 

He wasn’t down for the count. 

Before he could speak, before he could move, Mike’s throat became choked as he saw your expression shift from the kind concern that you had worn for him many times - to pain. A brutal shock of your own. 

The Rabbit had shoved his knife into your back. 

A bright pool of red began to form in the middle of your shirt as the tip of the knife just barely poked through the center of your chest. 

“No!” Mike shouted, rushing to sit up despite the pain screaming in his body. 

He put a shaking hand to the middle of your chest as though it mattered, as though he could save you from this. He hated how warm your blood felt underneath his fingers. 

Abby let out a scream beside him. Distantly, in the back of his mind, he felt a pang of guilt that she had to see this. That she would spend the rest of her life trying to get over this. 

“It hurts, doesn’t it?” The Rabbit mocked him. “It always hurts more when you love them!”  

The Rabbit let out a brutal laugh and then yanked his knife from your back, and you released a sharp breath as the Rabbit shoved you toward Mike, causing you to collapse into his lap in a bloody heap. 

Somewhere far away, in another world, Mike heard Vanessa shouting from the doorway. Maybe he felt some sense of relief, thinking she would shoot the Rabbit down and this would all be over. But as the Rabbit’s attention was drawn away from him, he turned to where you were draped across his lap, the small pool of red on your shirt now soaked into a large puddle as you sputtered and some of that harsh bright red blood came out the corner of your lips. 

“Mike-” You choked out, reaching for him. 

“Tell me what to do,” Mike choked out. 

His mind was miserably blank. He felt your fingers clutching at his bicep, like he held the key to saving you, like he could restore your life - but his mind was screaming and his chest collapsed in on itself. 

You were always the one that guided him. He didn’t have an idea if you didn’t plant it in his head first. 

“Y/N,” Abby sobbed. 

“It-it’s okay.” You told her, struggling, gurgling, choking on your own blood. You took your grip off Mike, extending the hand weakly to her, and she took it. “It’s g-gonna be okay.” 

She let out another harsh sob, and Mike felt his lungs fill with stone. 

“Tell me what to do,” He said desperately, not realizing how thick his own voice was, how close he was to breaking down. He ran a trembling hand over your face, brushing away some stray hairs - he hated how cold you felt to his touch. “Please, tell me what to do.” 

He thought you might suggest some first aid. An ambulance. Tell him where your car was so he could carry you there, cart you away, get you to safety. 

“You-re g-gonna take c-care of her-r.” You told him, shifting your eyes distinctly from him toward Abby, giving her hand a squeeze. “You’re gon-na m-make it ok-ay.” 

“Y/N.” Abby cried, thick tears spilling down her cheeks. 

“Abby. You’re gonna b-be s-strong.” You grinned at her - your teeth were covered in blood, and it looked as menacing as it did fond. “You’re g-gonna be good for-r M-Mike, right? My little a-artist.” 

Abby nodded, more tears leaking from her eyes. 

And then, with some gears turning in her head, these words seemingly having triggered some line of thought, she looked up and spotted something across the room. She muttered something about the drawings and leapt up before Mike could stop her. He didn’t have the strength to chase her - he only hoped that she was leaving, escaping while the others were distracted. 

When he looked back down at you, your face was falling more limp, and your shirt was somehow even more soaked in blood. His jeans were wet, and he couldn’t even process why. He pressed a hand to the front of your shirt, trying to cover the wound as you had done with him - his muscles shook even harder when blood gushed out between his fingers and seemed to leak from you harder, as if to spite him. 

“Y/N,” He sobbed, leaning down. He cradled the back of your head and touched your forehead against his own. 

For a moment, he dreamed about putting his lips against your own and bringing you back to life with a kiss. Like some stupid fairytale. 

“Y/N, I-” 

I love you. 

“I - I know.” You croaked quietly, cutting him off. “D-don’t w-waste it on me now-w.” 

He felt the puff of your last breath as it expelled out against his cheek - he felt you go completely limp in his arms. 

“No-” He choked the word off in his throat, swallowing down sobs. 

No. 

He held you tighter against him, and feeling how cold you were, he let out a shuddering howl of a sob. He clasped your lifeless body against his chest - somehow believing that he could use the power of his grief to inject more life back into you. 

The rest of it was a blur. The deadly snap of springlocks, Vanessa shouting at him to abandon you - to abandon your body as the building collapsed in on itself. 

Mike didn’t truly break down until he was scrubbing his blood off your face in the bathroom sink that night. Seeing the red washing down the drain and knowing that it was the last traces of your life he was washing away - that was what truly did it. He collapsed onto the floor and stayed there for hours, sobbing more than he breathed, unable to move. 

When his cries finally died down, Abby slowly crept in and asked him how he was feeling. He lied, telling her that he was feeling fine. She raised up a shy hand, offering him one of your sweaters that you had accidentally left on their couch a few days prior. 

He thanked her and then finally peeled himself off the floor. He tried to make pancakes and Abby remarked that they weren’t as good as yours. It felt impossible, but her words made him smile. It was a small, dull smile - but it was a smile, nonetheless. 

A few days later, when he finally fell asleep for the first time after you had died in his arms, it was with that sweater wrapped around his pillow, wafting your faded smell into his nostrils. It was the first time in years that he didn’t dream about Garett. The dream he had about you was just as haunting.

...

A/N: Also, I don't know if Afton's knife would actually be long enough to go through someone's back and pierce out the front of their chest but - one, it's a cool imagery, and two, the knife looks pretty large when compared to the scale of the Springtrap suit hands. Anyway, I don't actually care all too much if it's accurate or not, I had fun writing this lmao.

#sundrop writes #mike schmidt #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt x you #mike schmidt x y/n #blood tw #fnaf #five nights at freddy's #fnaf movie fanfiction

[custardcrazy]

i have a Ted logan request! it’s kinda inspired by the tutor piece you wrote but instead of being Ted’s tutor she’s Deacons tutor (or babysitter) instead and she comes over to the Logan household and Ted sees her there and is immediately head over heels for her and is constantly trying to find an excuse to go to whatever room she’s in and stay there much to the annoyance of Deacon and their father on occasion

sorry if i got to specific but you’re my fav Ted Logan writer and I’m happy his requests are open!!!

young as we are

summary: you're deacon logan's new babysitter. it doesn't seem like it'll be anything too special -- until you meet his cute older brother, that is. (gn!reader)

wordcount: 3.8k

A/N: okay so I might've changed around the prompt a teensy bit, but hopefully it still fits what you wanted. i'm no good at writing slow stuff so i got kinda impatient lmao (also. i'm?? your favorite?? you have no idea how genuinely happy that makes me. i'm smiling like an idiot. thank you so much.)

You checked the note you'd written the address down on to make sure you hadn't gotten the wrong house -- okay, all good -- before ringing the doorbell. 

The house itself was pretty nice, just looking at the exterior. One of the perks of babysitting in a somewhat well-off area like this one was that you usually got paid decently for your troubles; and it wasn't nearly as bad as working retail, if the stories you'd heard from your friends were anything to go off of. And kids could be sweet, unlike food service customers. 

It was only half a minute before the door was answered by a balding middle-aged man with a stern expression. Mr. Logan, you presumed; it was probably his voice you'd heard on the phone. 

"You must be the babysitter," he stated directly, not giving you time to answer, "come in, then. I have some things I have to inform you of." He didn't wait, disappearing into the house and leaving the door ajar behind him. Feeling slightly awkward, you followed. 

Once you entered the foyer, he began speaking again. "Deacon's probably in his room right now. He has to be in bed by nine P.M., and he knows that, but I don't doubt that without me being present he'll try to stay up." Indicating some bills on the counter, he continued, "there's some money for a pizza. The number to call is on the refrigerator. Dinner should be at six." 

"Oh, and my … eldest son, Ted." If it was even possible, his tone became more snide. "He should be back in an hour or two. Don't let him bother you at all -- if he gets too annoying, just let me know when I get back later in the evening, and I'll deal with him." 

You barely got out an "uh, okay, thanks" before Mr. Logan was yelling for Deacon. 

He was maybe around twelve, you guessed. It was obvious that he was reluctant to come downstairs, but did so after a look from his father. You smiled at him, but he didn't return it; you didn't really mind. He was at that awkward age, after all. And if your instincts were correct, an overbearing father could inflict a number on any kid. 

It wasn't that you weren't familiar with strict parents -- but it was near-impossible to get entirely used to them. Being in charge of their children meant that you had to be extra careful. You couldn't trust a young kid to not tell on you if you were a little lenient when it came to bedtimes, and you couldn't trust an older kid to not try and put the fact that you were more easy-going than their parents to the test. 

Still, once Mr. Logan had left, you immediately relaxed. 

And so did Deacon, by the looks of it, because suddenly his tense demeanor all but disappeared. 

It was almost frightening how abruptly he turned his attention from his father's car pulling down the driveway to you. 

"You ever watched RoboCop?" 

He asked, with a certain bluntness only preteen boys were capable of. 

"No, I haven't." Encouragingly, you smiled again. "What's that?" 

"I have the tape," and already he was turning away, "gimmie a sec." 

You had the sneaking suspicion that his father didn't have the same enthusiasm for science fiction movies.

And you were right; even during the movie he spoke up now and then to tell you stuff about the characters or the plot. About how "RoboCop could probably take down an entire army by himself". You thought it was kind of spooky how the titular protagonist was a reanimated guy forced to follow cyborg programming to uphold "justice" in an already-corrupt city, disregarding any humanity he once had. 

… Or something like that. Deacon just found the guy "badass". 

By the time that you'd nearly reached the ending of the movie, you were invested. 

But not too invested to not look up when the front door opened, and thus you made eye contact with probably the prettiest guy you'd seen in a while. 

He froze midway through his path to the stairs. 

For a moment, both of you just looked at each other. He looked familiar. 

Oh, yeah, you'd seen him at school a couple times. Passed by him in the hallways or in the cafeteria, maybe. You hadn't really noticed him before, but maybe that was because you hadn't gotten a good look at him. Like now. 

And then Deacon took notice, coughing in an awfully non-subtle way into his fist, and you realized that maybe you shouldn't stare like a creep. 

"Uh, you must be Ted, right?" You laughed semi-awkwardly. "Hi. I'm just gonna be babysitting Deacon until your dad gets home." 

Hopefully you remembered his name correctly. From the way his father had said it, you had expected him to be some flavor of delinquent -- piercings, leather jacket, all that stuff that an uptight man like Mr. Logan would disprove of. A high school dropout who was bumming around in his dad's basement without a source of stable income. 

That couldn't be further from the truth; the Ted you were seeing now was a slightly gangly, floppy-haired boy your age who was looking at you like he'd seen an angel. 

It took him a moment, but he nodded vigorously in response to your question. 

"Yes. Yeah. I'm -- that's me." Ted glanced away, finally breaking away your gaze. "Um. What's your name? I - … I don't think we've been introduced before, dude." Even from your position on the couch, you could pick out spots of rose pink on his cheeks. Even as he focused determinedly on the ground. 

You couldn't help but be hopelessly endeared, so you gave him your name. 

He gently repeated it once, as if trying out how it felt on his tongue. "Oh. Radical." 

There was another brief moment, in which the movie still playing on the boxy television faded into the background. Then, his eyes were back on yours; they were a warm brown, you noticed. 

Apparently, Deacon had enough of his older brother interrupting his sacred movie, because he spoke up again, breaking the silence. "Ted, don't you have stuff to do?" 

You wanted to reprimand Deacon for his less-than-polite tone, but didn't have the chance, because Ted responded first.

"Oh." Seemingly snapping back to reality, he glanced away. "Yeah. Sorry 'bout that." 

Before you could tell him that you were going to order food later, he'd bounded up the stairs, taking them two at a time. You heard the far-off shutting of a door; and then a little later, muffled music that had a lot of distorted electric guitar and drums. 

Deacon scoffed to himself, but settled further into the couch cushions. 

You didn't see Ted again that night. He didn't even come downstairs to snatch a slice of pepperoni pizza, and just remained in his room. Maybe he didn't want to bother his little brother anymore, you thought, trying your hardest not to feel disappointed; even if you'd barely had any sort of conversation with him, there was something … Something very magnetic. 

Mr. Logan was back at around eleven, and by that time you were seated by the television once more. Alone, because you'd miraculously managed to get Deacon to go to bed. 

"I'm guessing everything went fine," remarked Mr. Logan, taking off his cap. You were beginning to get used to his clipped tone, and shut off the terrible sitcom you'd been killing time with. 

"Yeah, I left the change for the food on the counter." 

He pulled out his wallet, counting out crisp bills. 

"Did Ted give you any trouble?" 

Taking the money, you made sure it was the correct amount -- why'd you even bother, a man like Mr. Logan must've been specific about everything. "No, not at all. He barely said anything to me, actually." 

He only gave you a noncommittal hum in response to that, not even looking in your direction as he headed for the counter; probably to make sure you weren't stealing any of the change. "Well, good night." 

It wasn't a thank you -- not even close, but you'd take it. You'd been paid, after all.  "Good night." 

Ted's face upon seeing you still was fresh in your mind as you made your way home. And during the next several days that passed. It wasn't surprising, really. Nobody had ever looked at you like that; nobody had ever looked in awe of you on sight. At least, not anybody that had really caught your attention. 

Eventually, Mr. Logan called again. Apparently he had another work thing to do -- not that you were listening closely when he mentioned it. Your heart jumped at another opportunity to see Ted; it was a little embarrassing, really. You weren't some boy-crazed lunatic, pining after a guy you barely knew. 

Well, pining was a strong word. But you did pay extra attention when walking around at school, trying to catch a glimpse of him on your way to your classes. 

(You didn't.) 

This time, your pulse picked up when you walked up to the house. You even hesitated before you rang the doorbell again. But when you did, you heard some general commotion from within the house before Deacon answered the door, looking a little annoyed. 

"Hi," he said, "Dad's getting ready or whatever." 

He stepped aside to let you in. "I thought Ted was gonna answer the door. But he ran off as soon as he heard the doorbell." Sighing, he flopped down on the couch. "Lazy ass." 

As if on cue, Mr. Logan entered the living room, fixing his hat. You idly wondered if he wore it to hide the fact that he basically lacked all of his hair except for on the sides and back. 

"Deacon, watch your language." 

"Sorry." Even though his voice was muffled into the cushions, he didn't sound apologetic in the slightest. 

Mr. Logan turned his attention to you. "You don't need a refresher on anything, right." It sounded more like an order than a question, but you chose to look past it. At least he had offered to jog your memory if needed. The bare minimum was nice sometimes. 

"Yeah, I'll be fine." 

He gave you a curt nod. It wasn't until you heard the garage door shutting behind his car that Deacon sat bolt upright, suddenly energized. 

You looked at him expectantly. 

"Let's watch Ghostbusters," he declared. "Dad thinks it's stupid." 

And so, with little fanfare, you were basically doing the same thing as last time. But instead of dystopia, the setting was mildly less disturbing this time. And the main protagonists were human and likable. No offense to cyborg cops, but he didn't offer much in the way of personality -- so nobody could blame you. 

You were sure you'd seen this movie before, but the memory was vague enough that most of the events were new to you. However, even though you were focused on watching the film, there was something else on the back of your mind. An underlying antsiness; and you had a good idea why. 

Said antsiness was confirmed when, about half an hour into the movie, you heard footsteps coming down the stairs. It took all of your willpower not to look, but you knew who it was. 

It was only until he breached your peripheral vision that you allowed yourself to smile. 

"Hey, Ted." 

Today, he was wearing all loose clothes -- a baggy tee shirt with BLACK SABBATH printed on it in slightly distorted purple font, and what looked like sleep shorts. All in all, it made him look very soft. Like he was planning to do nothing but lay in bed for the entire day. Even his hair was kind of mussed up, a curl or two (or three) sticking out from the rest. 

He returned your smile tenfold with a near-blinding grin. "Hey." 

Deacon, unlike you, didn't have to hide anything. 

"Are you just gonna stand there and stare at the babysitter?" 

Delightfully, Ted flushed, hand flying up to fiddle with his hair. "Uh. No. I was just wondering if I could -- " he hesitated, before continuing, "if I could watch the movie too, y'know. I think Ghostbusters is a totally exceptional example of cinema." You didn't catch the way Deacon narrowed his eyes at his older brother. 

"Okay. Just don't interrupt too much." 

" 'Course." 

You were mildly startled when Ted sat down in the middle of you and Deacon -- you'd expected him to sit on the other side, but apparently that wasn't the case. The younger Logan let out an audible sigh and scooted further away. 

True to his word, Ted didn't speak up for the majority of the movie. But you were aware of his presence in a way that was almost comparable; since you were mere inches apart. He didn't sit still, and adjusted his position every so often, but you had the feeling that was the norm since Deacon didn't mention it. 

However, it seemed by the near-ending Ted reached his limit on not making at least one comment. 

"Dude. I forgot how impressive the special effects are," he mused in his best attempt at a hushed tone. "Must've taken them ages to do this stuff." 

"Yeah," you agreed, glancing over, "it's pretty cool. Slimer really gives me the creeps." 

Ted opened his mouth to respond, but shut up when a loud "shhh!" came from Deacon's general direction. 

For a moment, you and him just looked at each other. Then, not able to stifle it in time, you snorted; he lapsed into a fit of giggles, and as a result of that so did you. It wasn't really your fault -- his laugh was very contagious, even muffled like this. 

Somehow, you managed to get through the rest of the movie without much more incident. Even if your heart lurched every time Ted's arm or leg accidentally brushed up against yours with the way he was fidgeting. 

By the time it was over, it was around six, and so you called to order a pizza. Ted didn't retreat back upstairs, much to Deacon's disappointment, and pretty much hovered around you as you all waited for dinner to arrive. Not in a weird way, not at all -- he just resembled a puppy trying to get attention, really. 

"What'd you think of the movie?" He asked, just after you'd gotten off the phone with the pizza place. 

"It was pretty good," you hummed, putting down the receiver. "A couple moments were slow, but overall I enjoyed it. What's not to like about some guys capturing ghosts and defeating otherworldly entities?" 

"An excellent way to phrase it," grinned Ted, "and I agree most wholeheartedly. The ghost-buster dudes are impossible not to root for." 

You chatted a little more about it with him; his way of talking was a bit unique, but somehow you found it just as attractive as everything else. Sadly, your conversation was cut short by the doorbell. As soon as you'd taken a single step in the direction of the door -- 

" -- I'll get that!" declared Ted, with an enthusiasm that was a little frightening, already moving to grab the pizza. 

"Hey, wait, there's money on the counter!" 

"... Oh." 

Backtracking, he grabbed the cash and resumed his course to the door, covering the distance with long strides. 

It wasn't long before the food was gone; and you unceremoniously stuffed the ripped-apart cardboard box into the recycling bin like last time, hoping Mr. Logan wouldn't take issue with how you'd basically just jammed it in. After Deacon had wolfed down maybe three slices, he'd disappeared somewhere. Probably to his room -- you  reminded him to be in bed in time, lest Mr. Logan stop letting you babysit, and he'd only replied with a dull "okay". 

You were practically alone with Ted now. 

"So, uh." He broke the silence as soon as you returned to the living room. "... Wanna go upstairs? There's not much to do down here 'sides watching more movies." 

"I don't see why not," you said without thinking. 

For a second, he looked caught off-guard just as much as you were, (seriously, what) but recovered quickly. "Cool. C'mon, dude." 

Beaming, he motioned to you, and you were helpless to do anything but follow. 

His room was a bit messy, but you would've found it strange if it wasn't. Posters were all over the walls, Metallica and Van Halen and other assorted bands and movies. In the corner was a shelf filled to the brim with various memorabilia; action figures, guitar picks, markers and books that looked kind of dusty. His laundry bin was overflowing a little, but at least it was confined to another corner. Everything was just so Ted and that was probably the best way to describe it. 

He made his way over to the window, opening it just a crack. "Let's just keep the window open so we can hear Dad pulling in the driveway. His car is super loud -- I think he'd go ballistic if you were hanging out with me." 

You knew he was right, but it still struck a minor chord on your heartstrings -- which you attempted to move past as fast as possible. "Oh, yeah. Good thinking." 

At your compliment, he was all smiles again. 

You felt yourself melt a little, and sat on the bed before your knees gave out or something. 

Before long, you were both sprawled out on the carpet playing a serious game of Uno. For a guy who you were learning wasn't the sharpest crayon in the box, he was pretty good at making you question your own abilities; either that or he was just extremely, ridiculously lucky. He did have an awful poker face, after all. 

He snickered every time he drew a plus four or plus two card, and blanched whenever he didn't have a playable card. Which was cute, but also pretty advantageous for you. 

After a frustratingly long time of going back and forth; of him denying you every single time you dared call Uno, you finally won. 

"Dude!" Ted exclaimed, throwing down his hand as if deeply and truly offended, but you could see that he was grinning again. "That was totally 'cause I let my guard down." 

"I don't know," you teased, "or maybe it was because of my great and unbeatable card-game skills." 

He hung his head in mock-shame. "You're right. I suck." 

You were conflicted between bullying him a little more or comforting him to lessen the blow of your victory, but before you could decide, you both heard the tell-tale sound of tires crunching on the pavement and the whir of the garage door opening. Ted scrambled over to the window, peeking through the small opening he'd left earlier. 

"He's back," he announced, turning back to face you. 

"Okay," you said, getting to your feet and making sure you hadn't dropped anything. "See you later, Ted." 

" 'Bye!" He called after you.

Thankfully, you managed to make it down to the living room, jump onto the couch, and fumble for the remote just in time to turn on the television a good minute before Mr. Logan entered. During that brief time, you felt strangely like you were a spy, a double-agent -- that if you were caught fraternizing with the enemy, you'd be given grave consequences. 

It was hilarious, you had to admit. 

Mr. Logan didn't ask you about Ted this time, just cutting right to the chase and taking out his wallet.

"Is the change on the counter again?" 

"Yeah," you answered, giving him a "thanks" as he handed you a couple bills. You marveled again at how clean they were -- it almost felt criminal to stuff them in your pocket, but what else could you do? 

Once more, Mr. Logan turned away, going for the counter. "Good night." If he was as disinterested as he sounded, it was no wonder why he didn't try to make small talk with you at all. And you were grateful for it; you were sure that it'd just be awkward and nothing else. You rushed a little to leave. 

But just as your hand turned the doorknob, you were stopped in your tracks by a shout. 

"Wait!" 

Apparently, you and Mr. Logan were both equally shocked, because he also whipped around mid-action. 

In Ted's hasty descent down the stairs, he nearly tripped over himself, but regained what little composure he'd been holding onto, and jogged over to you. Either he didn't notice his father standing there, looking utterly baffled; or he just didn't care. In his hands he was holding a cassette tape. 

He held it out to you, still catching his breath. The color in his cheeks could be attributed to his rush downstairs, but you had a sneaking suspicion that wasn't entirely the case. "Here. Sorry. I was gonna give it to you earlier," bashfulness showed clearly in his expression, "but I forgot." 

It was only a second before you realized that you'd have to exit the situation to avoid any questions from his father -- whose eyes were darting between the two of you in an extremely worrying manner. So you took it from him, even whilst having absolutely no idea what it was. 

"Thanks." 

And with that, you were out the door. 

--

The second you got home, you got a good look at the tape. 

On the outside, written in an untidy scrawl in black Sharpie, was your answer. It was a mixtape. How much time had he spent making this for you? Your mind conjured up an image of him sitting by the record player you'd seen in his room, painstakingly selecting his favorite songs to record. 

Flipping it over, you realized there was a scrap of paper taped to it -- a note. 

You hardly had to think about the question hastily written on it with a bright pink marker, with little stars doodled around the edges. 

It was the only thing that was running through your mind for the rest of the night. They were agonizing, the few days that passed before you finally received a call from Mr. Logan again. It was probably the only time ever that you were glad to hear his voice. 

Deacon was a little disappointed when you told him to wait a minute to watch Raiders of the Lost Ark.

"Don't start loudly making out or anything," he said, sulking as you quickly ascended the stairs. You wanted to scold him for the sake of preserving your own dignity, but you had more pressing matters to focus on at the moment.

"So," Ted began sheepishly, after you entered his room. "You got my note, right?" 

"I listened to the tape, too," you answered near-breathlessly. "Yes. I'd love to spend more time with you, Ted." You smiled broadly. "You're really sweet, you know that?" 

He went bright red in response. 

And then ducked behind his bangs. 

It took him a little while to speak, but you were patient. 

" … thanks, dude. I'm really glad," he finally murmured. "I spent ages making that tape, but it wasn't until I was gonna give it to you that I realized that. Like. Just hanging out like this wasn't gonna be enough. At all."

Right now, the main emotion your brain was registering was giddiness. 

"I'm really glad, too."

#ted logan x reader #ted logan x you #ted logan imagine #ted logan imagines #keanu reeves x reader #keanu reeves x you #bill and ted imagine

[ravixen]

omg yeah i meant drabble as in reaction! my sleep deprived brain couldn’t make the distinction lmao but yes if it’s not a problem i would like to request it as a reaction style thing with cheol, gyu, and kwan <3

svt + "why didn't you tell me?"

➔ reaction || requested

omg i’m sorry it’s 2am and i’ve been running on four hours of sleep since thursday can i please add soonhoon to the list 😭 thank you actually

➔ warnings: arguing, food mention || 1357 words ➔ notes: angst with unresolved conflict cuz i don't have space LOL, hurt/comfort? ; here's the original ask for anyone who's curious about the prompt. this one really stumped me! it feels like there's so much...context to fit into 300 words, but i tried my best. maybe one day i'll make it into a full-fledged fic because that tiktok and its continuation reminded me of my "svt + fighting with their s/o" (2021) and "svt + helping you out of mental health issues" (2021) series. pls reblog if you liked!

SEUNGCHEOL: he's been prickly all week. at first, you brushed it off, confused at his attitude, but at this point, you're sick of his stupid scoffs whenever you hang out with his friends. doesn't seem like he'll address it any time soon, so after another tense dinner, you bite the bullet. "you've been irritated all week — are you going to tell me what that's about or am i supposed to guess?" you cross your arms and lean back against the kitchen counter. you half-expect him to walk out of the kitchen, but he levels a glare at the table, simmering. "...why didn't you tell me?" you throw your hands into the air. "tell you what, seungcheol?" "that you used to date seungkwan!" that makes you pause. "what? i never dated seungkwan—" and then it clicks. last week, your phone brought up a screenshot from years ago that you never deleted: a dating app exchange with a guy you met exactly twice, both of you deciding after the dates that it wouldn't work. you didn't remember him, not even when you were re-introduced to seungkwan as seungcheol's partner; that's how unimportant it was. when you and seungkwan realized your past connection, you thought it was funny, but evidently, seungcheol didn't. "i never dated him," you say again, much calmer now that you know what he's upset about. "it was two dates a long time ago. i didn't tell you because i didn't know it was him. do you want me to recount every failed match i had on dating apps?" you raise your eyebrows until he relents with a gruff no. "besides, i'm literally living with you now. that's got to count for something, right?"

SOONYOUNG: when he's in a bad mood, everyone who knows him knows. he's good at schooling his expression into a neutral smile, but something about him is colder, more reserved. he's lost in his festering thoughts, and it takes a while to draw him back out. so when you flip over your phone to show him a funny video and his laugh is stalled for the fifth time, you decide to sit up and talk about it. he stays draped over the couch as you cross your arms, but finally he huffs, "why didn't you tell me?" his frown borders on angry, but when he toys with the hem of your sweater, you know that it's not directed at you, which is relieving — his anger is a force to be reckoned with. you wait for him to continue because he looks like he's turning words over in his mind. he begins slowly, "i trust my members with my life. all of them, but seungcheol especially. he's a good leader. takes care of us." you only hum, hand coming up to tug the short hairs on the nape of his neck. he leans into the touch. "and i'm glad you get along with everyone. i'm glad seungcheol takes care of you." there's something heartbreaking about the look in his eyes when he meets your gaze. "he told me that you've been confiding in him about your nightmares?" you suck in a breath. "it's not because i don't trust—" "i know, i know. he told me it's because you didn't want me to worry, but baby, i'm supposed to take care of you."

JIHOON: "what video are you watching?" you ask as you shuffle into his studio. take-out containers are laid out on the table, making you nearly drool in anticipation, and you're assuming the ones pushed to the corner are yours. you settle into a seat and break a pair of chopsticks. he still hasn't looked over. "hello? jihoon?" he grunts, eyebrows furrowed as he continues staring intently at the screen. you can hear a familiar song bleeding from his headphones. his standoffish behavior rubs you the wrong way, but whatever — you had a long day and you're hungry. you're about two bites into your fried rice when he finally pauses the video and turns to you. "why didn't you tell me?" you just keep eating. if he's going to accuse you of something and be mad about it, he better give you more context. "this—" he waves at his screen— "is your audition tape. you didn't tell me you were an idol trainee?" you choke on your food, and when he pushes a can of coke zero into your hand, you chug it gratefully. "where the hell did you get that?" and that makes his frown deepen. "i got it from soonyoung. you told soonyoung before you told me?" he tries to say it nonchalantly, but there's hurt that bleeds into his voice. you didn't mean to tell soonyoung first — it just happened that way because he overheard you talking about it to another friend and then he pestered you to send him a video. "what's worse is that i kept complaining to you about idol life...does that bring up bad memories? hurt feelings? i'm sorry."

MINGYU: sometimes you joke and say that he has a thing for praise, but it's true that he loves feeling needed and helpful, particularly when it comes to you. as much as you'd love his assistance with this one project, however, it's supposed to be a secret to everyone except jihoon who's helping as a co-composer. you were doing so well with hiding this until he surprises jihoon in the studio and finds you in front of the microphone. "what the heck? ...are you making a song?" the without me? goes unsaid, but it's written all over his stricken face. "why didn't you tell me?" jihoon shrugs and doesn't help when he says, "well, that'd defeat the whole secret aspect." "oh, so you can help, but i can't?" mingyu snaps, and it seems like jihoon finally realizes the extent of mingyu's mood because he doesn't say anything when you usher your boyfriend out the door. "why didn't you tell me?" he asks again, a hint of a whine pushing through. "i can write lyrics. or listen and give feedback. i've written songs before, too, y'know—" you put on a hand on his chest, and he swallows back his words, though you know he's dying to make his case. "why didn't you tell me?" "they told me i couldn't tell anyone," you say, apologetically. "they explicitly said not to tell you." he pouts. "i tell you all of my projects..." he mumbles, but he gets it — professional contracts come first.

SEUNGKWAN: he always makes sure that you're taking care of yourself, which includes getting all your vitamins and having enough energy to get through the day. one of the ways he does this is packing you lunch once in a while, and you've learned to accept it without protest, even if you feel like he's overextending himself. he makes good food! it's just...it's rare, but there's this one dish that he makes with soondae and you're not really a fan. you've never mentioned it because the topic never came up, and you were going to say something about it when it first appeared in your lunchbox, but he was so proud of it, saying that it's a recipe he developed himself and he was so excited for you to try it. how could you dash his hopes like that? but you know who likes soondae? mingyu. you develop a secret exchange that works for a while: your soondae for one of mingyu's proteins, and you're in the middle of this switch when seungkwan walks in and catches you red handed. mingyu looks between the two of you, takes his chopsticks in his mouth, and hurries out of the room. the last incriminating piece of soondae sits in your lunch container. "...why didn't you tell me?" you wince. he's not mad, just disappointed, and you're not sure which breaks your heart more. "you could've just said you don't like my cooking. i can take it." oh, and there's the pout. you're quick to hop to his side. "no, no, i like your cooking! it's that one dish, i swear! i didn't — i promise i eat everything else."

#caratwritersclub #seventeen scenarios #seventeen angst #svt angst #seventeen fluff #svt fluff #seungcheol scenarios #s.coups scenarios #soonyoung scenarios #hoshi scenarios #jihoon scenarios #woozi scenarios #mingyu scenarios #seungkwan scenarios #g: svt #m: seungcheol #m: soonyoung #m: jihoon #m: mingyu #m: seungkwan #t: reaction #s: request #cheolussy #ravixen

[misc-obeyme]

Oh damn if I'm not too late, maybe "I just wanted to make sure you're okay." with Levi?

Hello, anon!

Okay, this one ended up being hurt/comfort. I almost wrote the whole thing without including the dialogue prompt, too. But I realized I hadn't used it yet while I was writing the part where I did end up using it lol. So it was easy enough to fix that.

As always, Levi's anxiety and low self esteem hits close to home for me and that always makes him a liiiittle hard to write for. BUT I feel like I'm getting the hang of it maybe. I had less of an issue with this one than I did with his daily chat scene, anyway.

Thanks for participating!

1,000 Followers Event!

GN!MC x Leviathan with prompt "I just wanted to make sure you're okay."

Warnings: hurt/comfort, the usual Levi anxiety and such, brief appearances and mentions of the other brothers

Everybody knew that you were close with Leviathan. The other brothers never said it, but it was clear from the way they looked at the two of you, always together, always talking animatedly about your shared interests. Everyone noticed the amount of time you spent in Levi's room, watching anime and playing video games. Even Lotan seemed fond of you.

Levi was the only one who didn't quite realize the special bond you had. Not because he didn't notice how often you were with him, but because he simply couldn't believe that you would be interested in someone like him. There must be some other reason why you were always hanging around him. It was probably because video games and anime reminded you of the human world where you had enjoyed such interests before you were brought to the Devildom.

Levi easily explained away the things you did that didn't fit this narrative. He told himself he was imagining things when you smiled brightly any time he entered the room. He convinced himself that he was just the closest person any time you turned to him when you needed something.

Every day, he talked himself out of the idea that you might just like him for himself. Levi just couldn't wrap his head around that at all.

A few of his brothers tried to clue him in, but Levi came up with excuses for everything they said, too. Most of them gave up, but they were all equally annoyed at the way he seemed determined not to see your true feelings.

The truth was that Levi was too scared to confront you about it. It was just so much easier to pretend it wasn't happening. Especially since you hadn't actually told anyone that you felt anything for him beyond the casual friendship he kept believing your relationship was. What if everybody was wrong, like he suspected they were? He couldn't handle your rejection. It was too much to even think about it.

And yet things couldn't continue this way and everything changed one lazy afternoon. Everyone was at the House of Lamentation since it was the weekend. Lucifer was holed up in his office doing paperwork and Beel was no doubt in the kitchen, but everyone else was in the common room, doing various activities.

Even Levi was out of his room, though he was still playing a handheld video game. You were sitting beside him, watching over his shoulder. This was a fairly normal activity for the two of you. You both enjoyed watching the other person play and after a while, Levi would hand the game over to you so he could watch for a bit.

Asmo was sitting at the table bedazzling a new bag he had bought recently and Mammon was on the other side of you, scrolling through his D.D.D.

Across from where you and Levi sat, Satan and Belphie were in discussion about their latest idea for pranking Lucifer.

Satan was holding open a book of spells. "If I'm interpreting this correctly, it will cause the person it hits to state their deepest secret out loud."

"LMAO," Levi said from where he was listening in. "Do you really think a curse like that would work on Lucifer?"

"If we're sneaky enough and he doesn't see it coming, it might," Belphie said.

Levi handed you the video game so you could start playing. "You guys aren't sneaky enough to pull that off."

"We should probably test it," Satan said, still looking at the book. "I wouldn't want to successfully hit Lucifer with a curse only to find out it doesn't work as we thought."

Before anyone could do or say anything else, Satan recited the spell. It hit Levi squarely in the chest.

Levi fell back into the couch with a thud. "Even though everybody thinks MC likes me, I know they only hang out with me because my interests remind them of home!"

The silence that filled the room was broken only by the slap of Levi clapping his hands over his mouth and the cutesy music coming from the handheld device that had gone limp in your hands.

"Well, now we know it works," Belphie said mildly.

You looked at Levi, but he couldn't bring himself to meet your gaze. "Do you really think that?" you asked, the pain evident in your voice.

Levi wasn't sure what to say. If he denied it, you would know he was lying, but if he said yes…

He couldn't look at you and he couldn't say anything and he couldn't move. All he could do was sit there with his hands covering his mouth, his eyes squeezed shut.

Levi heard the sound of you putting the video game down on the table. He could hear you getting up from the sofa, heard the hitch in your breath as though you were trying to hold back your tears. Levi heard when you left the room, closing the door behind you.

"They're gone," Mammon said.

Levi opened his eyes and slowly lowered his hands.

"You're not really going to just let them go like that, are you?" Asmo asked.

Levi glared at him for a moment, then glared at Satan. "Why would you do that?"

Satan blinked. "I had no idea you would say that. I thought for certain you would say something about your favorite anime character. It seemed safe enough."

"Ya better go after 'em, Levi," Mammon said.

Levi considered this. They were right, of course. He couldn't just let you go. He had to go after you. He had to tell you why he continued to force himself to believe something that deep down he knew wasn't true. It was going to be the most terrifying thing he had ever done, but he had to do it. Not for himself. For you. The pain he had heard in your voice was more than enough motivation to help him overcome the fear of facing you.

Levi didn't say anything to his brothers. He simply stood up from the couch and went to look for you.

The first place Levi went was your room, but you weren't there. He poked his head into Lucifer's office only to receive a glare from Lucifer himself. You weren't there, either. He found Beel in the kitchen, but you were still nowhere to be seen. He checked the music room, the planetarium, the living room, the attic, even his brothers' rooms. Where else could you have gone? Did you leave the house all together? He checked the garden, but you weren't there, either. Perhaps you went to Purgatory Hall? Or the Demon Lord's Castle? Or somewhere else entirely?

Levi sighed. If he was going to leave the house to look for you, he wanted to be prepared. So he went to his room to grab a few things.

Levi opened the door to his bedroom and stopped dead in his tracks.

There you were, sitting in his bathtub, hugging yourself and looking miserable.

"MC?" he asked, too surprised to see you to do anything else.

You looked up at him and frowned. "What are you doing here?"

Levi blinked. "This is my room."

You looked around the room as though you were surprised to find yourself there. "Oh. Right."

"I was looking for you everywhere," Levi said. "I searched the whole house. Were you here the whole time?"

You didn't answer him, only ducked your head down and hugged yourself harder, your knees pulled up as you slumped down in his tub.

Levi closed the door to his room. He sat down on the floor next to the tub and looked down at his hands. "I just wanted to make sure you're okay."

When you didn't say anything, Levi began to ramble. "It's just that you're so cool and I'm so lame and I couldn't believe that you would actually like me just because I'm me and I knew it wasn't like that really, but it was too scary to think-"

"Levi."

Levi stopped talking and looked up at you. Your gaze was on the far wall.

"I came to your room instead of going to mine because this is where I feel safe," you said. "I feel safe when I'm here with you. And it isn't because of the anime or the video games or any of that. It's because of you. I thought you knew that."

"I did!" Levi insisted, then corrected himself. "I do. I do know it, MC."

You looked at him then, reaching a hand over the top of the tub, offering it to him. "Just get in here and hug me, won't you?"

Levi stood up immediately, grabbing your hand and climbing into the tub with you. You didn't even hesitate, collapsing forward into him, wrapping your arms around his torso, resting your head on his chest.

Levi felt himself blush profusely, but he didn't say anything or try to pull away. Instead he just returned your embrace, holding you close in his arms.

"I like you, Levi," you said, your face pressed into his chest.

Levi's blush deepened, but he powered through it. "I… I-I like you, too, MC."

Even though Levi's anxiety was sky high, even though he was still nervous to be this close to you, he was also the happiest he had ever been in his life. Holding you close like that, hearing you say that you liked him, being able to say it back, everything about these moments filled him with a joy he'd never known. He vowed to never hurt you again, to only ever tell you how he really felt, what he really meant. He vowed not to let his own insecurity get in the way of the truth of your heart.

1,000 Followers Event | masterlist | Thank you for reading!

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me nightbringer #obey me fanfiction #obey me fanfic #obey me leviathan #obey me levi #obey me leviathan x reader #obey me leviathan x mc #obey me levi x reader #obey me levi x mc #leviathan x reader #leviathan x mc #misc 1k event #misc writes

[youngbloodlisk]

parade day - enhypen bias x reader, fluff

the bias isn't actually in it all that much, but just like trust me lol

applicable for any enha member, no name stated, though if you feel it's a bit ooc for your member of choice to say certain things feel free to alter it a little in your own mind to make it fit better!

I shiver, feeling like an ice block from the inside out, despite the amount of layers on my body and the hot drink in my gloved hands.

I breathe out air warmer than my surroundings, granting me the appearance of a steam cloud coming from my mouth.

As I take a drink from my paper cup, I can't help but wonder to myself why Thanksgiving has to be in November. And why parades have to be outdoors. And why I had to be here so early in the morning just to stand here for hours.

Then, my phone buzzes in my pocket. Not just a generic vibration, but the custom vibration that he set for himself on my phone. 'So I always know it's him before I even look.'

⁃ how's the crowd

He's such an ass. He's currently inside, waiting for the staff to tell him to go out and board the float. Inside. He's inside. In the heat.

⁃ cold, dick. how's the nice warm heated building 🤩

⁃ lovely, thank you.

⁃ no but fr ur not too cold right? you have jackets on?

⁃ i can send someone to u with my jacket if u need it

⁃ did you get the drink u said u we're gonna get?

⁃ yes yes yes I have jackets I have my drink im fine lmao

He might be kind of an ass but he's so sweet.

⁃ ok good.

⁃ only a few hours!

⁃ after we pass by the main part you can leave baby

⁃ ik you said you were gonna wait around for me but you don't have to

⁃ I don't need you freezing your ass off

⁃ THAT would be tragic. r.i.p. ass

I can't help but roll my eyes.

⁃ you're such a perv

⁃ woah rude!

Instead of responding, I slide my phone back into my pocket. I don't really have anything else to say at the moment. If I tell him straight up that I WILL be waiting until the end of the parade for him, he'll just whine about how I don't have to.

And now I stand. And wait...

And I waited for about 5 hours. We had to be here at 4:30 in the morning, both for him to get where he needed to go with his members and for me to get an absolutely prime spot in the crowd. The parade didn't actually start until about 9:30.

It's not every day that your boyfriend performs in the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade.

Longest five hours of my life, but whatever. He better not mess up the choreography after all this shit or I'm gonna be pissed.

Not really, it would actually be pretty funny. But the point is- this is pretty exhausting. Especially since I'm here all by myself.

Other members have partners, but they either couldn't come out for the parade or they don't like me. Not kidding, they seriously just don't like me that much. But that's okay! I don't particularly like them either. Anyways, all that resulted in me being here alone, without anybody to talk to to pass time.

But whatever. Whatever! It's over. The agonizingly boring five hours is over, and the parade is finally starting.

The float I'm really here for is a few floats and balloons back, but the parade feels like it moves quickly, so it doesn't seem to take very long at all.

The big Baby Shark float approaches and I see him already trying to find me in the crowd.

"Excuse me, could my daughter stand in front of you? Just for this performance?" A woman asks from behind me. I look next to her and see a young girl, probably about 10 or 11, holding a picket with my boyfriend's face on it.

She looks like this is the best day of her life. She isn't even looking at me, like she doesn't even care if she has the best view of the group. Just being here and seeing them is enough to fill her with pure joy.

"Of course! Of course she can!"

"Oh, thank you so much." She prompts her daughter to move forward as I scoot back a bit to make room for her. "She loves these boys, she's been talking about it for days. Thank you."

"It's no problem at all." I turn my attention to the young girl. "Is he your favorite?" I point to her picket.

She nods, excitedly.

"He's so pretty."

"He really is. He's my favorite too."

I look up again, seeing that he's still trying to find me. I wave with all my might, willing him to spot me, and soon enough he does. As soon as I have his attention, I frantically point to the girl who is now holding her picket up and waving at him. He leans down a bit to indicate that he's changed his attention to her as he smiles, waves at her, and sends a hand heart in her direction.

She squeals and jumps up and down.

"He saw me!! He saw me!! Mama, he saw me!! He gave me a heart!"

The cute little girl continues to freak out, making me worry slightly that she might just explode, as the float stops and the guys climb down, getting ready to perform.

There was some benefit to getting here so early. The performances are all directly in front of me (and this little girl, who I feel some level of community with at the moment.)

The hosts finish up their introductory stuff about the float, the movie, and the group, and the Baby Shark music begins to play (soon transitioning into the Keep Swimmin' Through tune.)

I watch him intently, full of pride for him and his success with the group.

I know he can't entirely take this seriously. It's a song for a Baby Shark movie. It's not like it's the most serious of performances in the first place. But I also know that deep down he can't believe he's here either. He can't believe he's doing this. He'd probably agree to sing Twinkle Twinkle Little Star acapella if it meant he got to be in such a big event that few kpop groups have been in.

The group does a great job. Of course they do. None of them mess up the choreography, so I remain not pissed off. (Lol)

After the performance, they simply walk off next to the float, but my boyfriend makes sure to send a quick flying kiss to both me and the little Engene in front of me before leaving the main square.

"He saw me again!!" She squeals.

"That's great, honey!" Her mother says before whispering to me, "Do you know that boy or something? He seemed to know you?"

I laugh a bit.

"Yes, ma'am. He's my boyfriend."

"Oh my! Oh, you must be very proud of him."

"You have no idea."

The rest of the parade is uneventful, just nice entertainment.

When it ends, I say goodbye to the little Engene and her mom, and seek out a heated place as fast as possible. I'm finally able to find a store nearby that is both open and not too busy. I wait in that store until my boyfriend is released from his duties and able to text me where to find him.

When I finally do leave and find him, he hugs me tighter than usual and holds on longer than usual.

"Are you alright?" I ask, slightly concerned.

"So cold. You're so warm."

I laugh, though I understand. I have to pry him off of me, taking a second to kiss his cold lips.

"You guys did great. Was it fun?"

"Yeah, it was. Less fun though and more just... just a really crazy experience."

"I bet. Did you see a lot of Engenes throughout the parade?"

"Yeah! A lot more than I expected. They really showed out. That little girl in front of you was adorable."

"You're her bias, and I think your heart and kiss made her entire day. Month. Life, possibly."

"Well, I wouldn't have seen her and made her entire life if it wasn't for you."

He takes my hands and pulls me close to him, bringing his face near to mine.

"It really is all thanks to me, isn't it? Technically, maybe /I/ made her entire life. You were just the tool."

"Mhm, mhm. Sure..." He trails off, pressing his lips into mine in a much deeper way than the short kiss earlier.

I feel a warmth run through my body, like the warmth of his kiss is being injected into my veins.

He cuts it off suddenly, staying close enough for his lips to still brush against mine. We utter a sentence each before resuming the kiss.

"Thank you for coming and standing out in the cold just for me."

"Baby, I'm so proud of you."

#enhypen #enhypen fluff #heeseung fluff #jaeyun fluff #sim jake fluff #sunoo fluff #sunghoon fluff #jungwon fluff #niki fluff #riki fluff #jongseong fluff #enha #enha fluff #enha x reader #enhypen x reader #heeseung x reader #jaeyun x reader #sim jake x reader #sunoo x reader #sunghoon x reader #jungwon x reader #niki x reader #riki x reader #jongseong x reader #jay x reader #bias insert

[fallinfl0wers]

oh gosh as a fat woman nothing has made me feel quite as warm and fluffy as those headcanons of xiao, albedo, and scara wearing reader's clothing :')) first time I ever related to that trope and I'm not ashamed to admit I almost cried LOL

if it's not too much trouble, could I request that same prompt for tighnari, venti, and childe as well? thank you so so much 💗

fandom: genshin impact character: tighnari, venti, childe reader type: female, either taller or chubbier than the boys depending on you! <3 summary: they've heard of the custome of borrowing clothes from your significant other, usually, a girlfriend borrowing from her boyfriend. since their clothes wouldn't exactly fit on you, they decided to try yours instead... (part two of this post) genre: fluff warnings: none notes: i'm glad you liked the first headcanons! tbh it gets very tiring when most posts explicitly state reader as being petite in every sense, it can really make someone feel bad from time to time HAHA, here it is <3 ambiguous enough for both the tall and chubby gang! like most things i write, really... i try to make as much as i can about the reader ambiguous for everyone to enjoy. hope you enjoy these as well!

Tighnari

He knows about this thing couples do, and he doesn't find it too weird. It's just another way for people to show affection to each other, but not one he ever paid much thought to.

In the particular case of you and him, though... he can see clearly how it's not really working, at least not in the typical "girlfriend steals boyfriend's shirt and looks diminutely cute on it"

If you ask Tighnari, he'd tell you that idea is just overrated lmao

It's a concept so engrained in the world of relationships that the woman has to be small and the man has to be towering over her and making her look tiny in every possible way, but that's simply not how things are in the real world a lot of the time.

Like between him and you? He's not the shortest person he knows, but he looks very small next to you no matter where you look at it.

No, dear, his clothes aren't going to fit you, and that's okay. You have your own, you don't need his.

If he sees you getting upset at yourself because you can't fit on his clothes, now there he's going to do something.

First of all remind you that he loves you because you're you, and you being you includes you not fitting on his clothes, so please don't feel sad.

You don't have to fit on his clothes to be cute, adorable, and beautiful in his eyes!

Besides, it's not like sharing clothes is a big deal, at least not in his eyes, honestly.

They're just clothes... the only special thing about them is who owns them.

Tighnari will pick up any random shirt of yours one morning without thinking about it too much and put it on to prove a point. Once you wake up and see him in your clothes just going about his morning routine without much thought, he's going to look at you with a smile and look that say 'Told you so'.

He likes wearing your shirts from time to time, but it's not practical for his job in the forest, so he mostly borrows them as pyjamas.

If you insist that you want to wear something that is his, he will get something like a hair accessory or a visor to cover his eyes from the sun, wear it in front of you a couple times, then tell you you can borrow those instead, they'll be more useful and more comfortable for you anyway.

"Whaaat? You... think you're missing out... because you can't fit on my clothes? [name], they're just pieces of fabric cut out and stitched together, it really isn't a big deal. Plus, it's not like you chose to have the body type you have, and even then, you're already beautiful. Now come here, let me put this visor on your head... mm, that's good. Now you're wearing something of mine and protecting your eyes at the same time. See how easy that was? Now come on, we have a long day ahead."

Venti

He picks up quickly on how you look on at the couples where the girlfriend is wearing something of the boyfriend and how you get sulky about it.

He has the easiest solution out of everyone, he drapes his cape over your shoulders while you're sitting down one day and gives you a big smile.

Sure, the cape doesn't suit you the same way that it suits him, but it's fine, right? It's his, and you're wearing it!

Now, now, he won't stand for you being sad! You're his beautiful muse, a smile is what suits you better than anything!

If none of his other clothes will fit you no matter what, he's not against somehow getting you a matching outfit that looks exactly like his own but is your size.

And if that fails, well, who ever said that it had to be you the one who steals his clothes?

So you shouldn't feel surprised when you find him in your room one day, trying on your clothes and modeling them on the fullbody mirror.

He looks back at you and smiles, hurrying to hug you and sing praises about you and your fashion sense.

Yup, you're going to see him wearing your shirts and hoodies and sweaters every now and then, only that because your pants, dresses and skirts are just hard for him to style on himself lmao, plus you look so cute on them he doesn't want to damage them in his day to day shenanigans!

He's going to reassure you that he loves you the way you are, that it's okay if you're bigger than him, it's just another thing he likes about you.

As long as you're healthy, all that matters is how happy you are.

So he will do his everything to make you smile more often!

Something he does a lot is sitting on your lap while wearing your shirt, and hugs you like a koala while drinking wine and telling you how lovely you are.

"Ah, it's you! My sweet dandelion, look at this! I always knew you were good at picking out clothes, but this? This sweater is so soft! It's not my color though, so I was thinking maybe this other shirt would be nice for today... Oh? Ehe, why, of course, my muse, I'm trying on your clothes! It gives me a soft and special feeling... It feels just like being around you!"

Childe

He's also very much aware of this custome of couples exchanging clothes, and in truth, he felt a little sad for a second that he couldn't have that with you.

But you know what? Fuck that concept, if you like his clothes, like, say, his coats, he'll get you one of the finest quality tailored to fit you perfectly!

That's something he always does tbh, when you see a cute dress, blouse or skirt that you want, but they don't have it in your size, he brings out his wallet and gets a professional seamstress to make one for you!

His beloved will NOT have to be sad over something so easily attainable like clothes, not on his watch!

Childe heard you getting upset because you couldn't fit on his clothes, and felt like you were missing out on something...

Again, if he hears you liking a certain piece of his clothing, he'll get one done for you, but he'll keep thinking.

Like, sure, it's a cute thing to borrow your lover's clothes but hey? He really doesn't think that his usual outfits would be flattering on you even if they fitted you tbh.

He just thinks they're too stiff... and he can still see where blood was splattered on them even after they're all squeaky clean, and he definitely does NOT want to see you in bloody clothes.

One night, he will insist on wearing something of yours to bed, and he will, even if you say he shouldn't.

He's like ??? Gasps, babe, it's my duty as boyfriend to make sure your clothes are comfy!

Which it really isn't but you let him anyway.

Your oversized long-sleeved blouse is airy and comfortable on him, he lets out a sigh of relief as he lays down on the bed, looking up at you with a grin.

He really likes this arrangement. It's homely and cozy, he wears your clothes when he's free, it's relaxing.

"You know, I think I'm going to keep this one. Kidding, kidding! It's just soft and it smells of you... I like it. What, you're blushing? That's adorable of you! Come here, if you want to wear something mine so much, let me give you this scarf I made. There, now we're both wearing something of the other!"

fallinfl0wers. 2023.

#genshin x you #genshin impact scenarios #genshin x reader #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact headcanon #genshin impact x you #genshin impact x y/n #tighnari x reader #tighnari x y/n #tighnari x you #venti x you #venti x reader #venti x y/n #childe x reader #childe x you #childe x y/n #fem reader #female reader #x female reader #x fem reader #tall reader #chubby reader #x tall reader #x chubby reader #melodywritings #melwritesgenshin

[kaeyazuha]

hey! might be too late for the prompt thing from earlier in which case please feel free to ignore!! but “That was, by far, the stupidest thing you’ve ever done.” or “I may be an idiot, but I’m not stupid.” -> both scream tighnari to me lmao. i think i just want him to call me out kjdghljk

; this is possibly the funniest request I've ever gotten and I love it, thank you for this!

; 12/29/22

; CW: minor yelling

; pure fluff

“What were you thinking?!”

Is what you were thinking at this moment. You stared, slack-jawed, at the pure destruction that was Tighnari’s former garden. A pair of farmers in Sumeru city have been having issues with a whopperflower ruining their crops by acting like a weed and taking all the water. So, being the scientist you were, you decided to get to the bottom of this issue. And what better way to do that, than by recreating the situation? A genius plan, foolproof even. But, somehow it never occurred to you that this whopperflower you stole from a nearby lake would be anything but cooperative. 

“Please, not the mints!” You begged, whisper-yelling to the rabid flower as you watched the soil be sucked dry of any water it previously held. And then, you were forced to watch as it quickly took the place of the mint, effectively killing it in the process. You slapped a hand over your mouth, melodramatically sinking to your knees and accepting your fate. “...Tighnari’s gonna kill me, y’know,” You glanced over to the “mint,” and then glared at it fiercely. “And it’s all your fault.”

“What’s all who’s fault?” You’ve never jumped to your feet so fast, dirt still clinging to your knees as you quickly shuffled into Tighnari’s line of sight, trying to hide the ever-so-happy whopperflower casually killing his personal garden.

“Tighnari!!” You grinned widely, though it faltered at the sight of his tired deadpan. Who were you kidding? Nobody could fool him. Though, it doesn't hurt to try, right? “I was just checking on your garden, what brings you here?”

He completely ignored you, opting to try and peek over your shoulder. You watched nervously as he narrowed his eyes, squinting at the “mint.” You sighed, dusting off your knees to rid it of the dirt collected, and then you walked over to the flower. “I’d suggest drawing your weapon.” You muttered bitterly, leaving him no time to react before you yanked out the whopperflower, wincing at the bits of frost that stung at your legs when it sprung out of the ground. 

“What th-”

He made quick work, taking aim at the enemy and finishing it off with no mercy, leaving only you to face his wrath. You muttered a silent prayer to whichever god would listen, watching as he stared down at the remnants of his herb garden. “...(Y/n)...” You swallowed thickly, watching as he turned around slowly.

“That was, by far, the stupidest thing you’ve ever done.” There it was. He slapped a hand over his forehead, dragging it slowly down his face, and you laughed sheepishly. 

Your voice teetered on the verge of nervousness, but you tried to keep it level. “As you’ve said, anything for science…?” Though at his stone-faced stare, you cracked.

“Okay, okay! I know, it was dumb.” You groaned, tossing your head back while fighting off the embarrassment at the realization of just how dumb this all was. “Look,” Gesturing vaguely around the air, hands swirling around, you attempted to piece together a somewhat reasonable excuse, though your words fit together like puzzle pieces from completely different puzzles. At least to you, Tighnari just nodded along as if you were reciting simple laws of nature. 

“And you really, sincerely thought bringing a,” He pointed to the garden. “-whopperflower, was a good idea?” Tighnari questioned, though it felt more like an accusation and you withered under his piercing gaze.

“I knew what I was doing. I may be an idiot, but I’m not stupid.” You scoffed, trying to ignore the juxtaposition that was your justification, and crossed your arms. “I regret the idea, and I will fix this. You can go report me to the higher-ups.” Now becoming a bit discouraged by the entire ordeal, your shoulders slumped when you shoved past Tighnari into the destruction of a garden. To your surprise, he remained quiet and knelt beside you, carefully cradling a few unearthed herbs and starting to bury them once more. You raised an eyebrow, looking at him warily, and he looked almost offended by your expression.

He scrunched up his nose, his right ear twitching indignantly. “What?” Tighnari’s head swiveled back to his hands as they worked, and you could see the faint smile dancing on his lips. “...This is your first experiment, no?” Slowly, you nodded. “This is a start. It’s not a good one,” You groaned and he laughed. “-But it’s a start. We all make mistakes. You learned from yours, so there’s no need for shame. What the higher-ups don’t know won’t hurt them, wouldn’t you agree?” 

You quickly got back to work, staving off the dorky smile tempting your lips. “You’re not mad?”

“I never said that.” Suddenly, Tighnari’s hand was in front of your face. Inside his palm laid a single, tiny mushroom. “You killed my agaricus bisporus.” 

You laughed, though you tried not to. “Please, just call it a button mushroom. Don’t you have an entire garden of those? I thought you’d be more pissed about the ashwagandha with how expensive they are.” Everything fell silent. Hands still buried in the soil, you turned your head to him only to find two very wide, very angry multicolored eyes staring right back at you.

“...You did what?”

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Word Count: 970

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- Ky♡♡

𝗧𝗔𝗚𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗧; 𝗳𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗺 𝗼𝗿 𝘀𝗲𝗻𝗱 𝗮𝗻 𝗮𝘀𝗸 𝘁𝗼 𝗷𝗼𝗶𝗻!

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#tighnari x you #tighnari imagines #tighnari x reader #genshin tighnari #tighnari #genshin impact #genshin #genshin fluff #tighnari fluff #genshin hcs #genshin fanfic #genshin x you #kywrites

[ravenssh1t]

Midnight Kisses - X.T.

telekenesis!reader, Wednesday’s twin!reader, gn!reader, mindreader!reader (lmao), fluffy, SFW

AN: hey beautiful people! this is my first fic that im acc publishing so please be kind. that being said i am always open to constructive criticism. if you enjoy this, please let me know, and if you’d like me to write more, or for other characters, just drop me a message or an ask! I will write for a whole plethora of characters so just let me know which characters and maybe a small prompt if you so desire!! i hope you enjoy!! <333

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I looked over at my alarm clock. The bright red number glared 00:34 back at me. I'd only been at Nevermore for a week or so, and already it was a torturous experience. The glares from Barclay and her minions, the rumours, everyone walking on eggshells around Wednesday and I. It's a miracle neither of us had pulled another 'piranha incident'. There was one thing that never seemed to care about the rumours though. Well, one person. Xavier Thorpe. 

Wednesday had met him before.  His godmother's funeral. Allegedly, she saved his life, which is rather unlike my dear sister. However, in the long run it's been rather helpful.

Since starting at Nevermore, I had only really become close to two people. If you could even call it close. Our new roommate, Enid. And Wednesday's old acquaintance, Xavier. 

Right now, I need a distraction. From the thoughts that clouded my mind and prevented the graceful release of sleep from my grasp. Enid, Wednesday and Thing were all asleep. I decided to head down to Xavier's dorm. Since Rowan was expelled (killed, left, whatever) I've ended up in Xavier's room a few times. Once for stalking purposes, once for homework, once for... well I'm not entirely sure how to define it. But I know that he's what I need right now. 

I crept out of the window, and distracted the housemaster with an illusion of a hamster that I know he loves. I crept up the stairs and knocked on Xavier's door. No answer. I knock again and poke my head in and softly say "Thorpe? You in here?" Nothing again. He must be in his art shed. 

The brisk walk through the grounds was not unwelcome. It gave me quiet. I saw the lights on in Xavier's shed and picked up my pace a little. Something about that man makes me feel a weird tingling in my stomach. It's a new unfeeling. But not unpleasant. 

He doesn't answer when I knock, but I can hear the not-so-delicate sound of Deftones playing through decrepit doors, so I doubt he heard me. I decide to just walk in, and he's got his back towards the door, so I just take a seat on one of the stools and watch him paint. Something about him seems to draw me in. I can't help but admire the way his hair looks in a messy bun with the front strands poking out. The way his tall stature towers over his canvas. His masterful hands sweep the paint in particular ways just to fit his liking. 

I accidentally knock over a plastic cup full of multicoloured paint brushes and he jumps and turns around swiftly and catches me and says “Jesus Christ, Y/N! Do you make a living out of scaring this shit out of people?” and I smirk and say “No, but that is the goal.” He scoffs at my retort and saunters over to me while he asks “What’s wrong?” 

“Who said there’s anything wrong?” I ask slightly bitterly albeit unintentionally.

“Drop the tough guy facade, we both know that Wednesday and Enid are asleep, so you found me. Now, what’s wrong?” Damn. He read me like a small children’s book. 

“I couldn’t sleep. Needed a distraction. For some reason my brain seems to find your company tolerable.” 

He decides to ignore the last statement and instead questions “Do you want to see my new painting?” 

“If I must.” 

We walk over to one of his canvases and he spins it round. It’s me. Well, my hand. My hand in the middle of culminating an illusion with my powers. The deep crimsons and maroons contrast against the vibrant scarlet just like they do in real life. He even got the rings I wear down to a T. 

It’s incredibly rare that I am rendered speechless. But alas, here I am. My mouth ever so slightly agape, mind void of all language. Just pure astonishment. He breaks me out of my trance by saying “Sorry. I know it’s a bit creepy. I can get rid of it if you want-”

“Xavier,” I interject. “It’s beautiful. I love it.”

He smiles at this and the tip of his nose and his cheeks turn a distinct rose-tinted pink. He lifts his hand over the portrait and animates the picture. It moves exactly as mine do. The astonishment I first felt came sweeping back over me like a tidal wave. “Thank you, Xavier. This is amazing.” 

“Amazing enough for a hug?” He questions boldly. 

“Fine.” My reluctance is entirely feigned because the one thing I need right now is a hug. He practically jogs over to me in excitement and wraps his long arms around me tightly. My head sits just at the nave of his chest and it feels like the final two puzzle pieces finally slotted together. “You can hug back, you know?” He (not so) subtly hints as his chin rests on the top of my head. “I know.” I grumble back stubbornly. I hesitantly wrap my arms around him. Oddly comforting. Something in me tells me this is exactly where I’m meant to be at this moment. I don’t notice myself relaxing into the embrace and tucking my head impossibly closer to his chest, but he does. “We can do this more often if you need it.” 

“I may just take you up on that, Thorpe.” We stay there for a few seconds longer, then he lets go, and I do too. I wander back over to the desk and take a seat on the oak plank. He follows me and leans over me to ‘grab a paintbrush’ or so he says. He gently places his hand on my hip as he does, and I feel my face flush bright pink. He catches this and says “Am I that good?” 

“You wish you had that effect on me, Thorpe.” 

“Oh, I know I do, Addams.”

“How’s that then?” I query, genuinely hoping he is completely oblivious to the way I feel about him. 

“You’re a dick to pretty much everyone here. But with me? You had a soft spot almost immediately. You blush every single time I touch you. You watch me paint for hours on end while pretending that you’re doing homework because you don’t want me to notice that you’re staring at me. It’s obvious!” He chuckles out the last statement with the cockiest smirk on his smug, beautiful face. 

“Well, what about you Mr Loner who can’t seem to want to spend enough time with me? You touch me every chance you get. You painted a picture of my hand for God’s sake!” It’s possible I may have gotten slightly defensive. 

“Y/N. I never said it was a bad thing.” He etched ever so much closer to me until he was only two inches away from my face. He placed his strong hands on my delicate shoulders and gazed into my eyes. “Can I kiss you?” Speechless once again. I try to force out something, anything coherent, but I just stammer silently. “Ok, answer me this,” He notices my nerves. “Do you want to kiss me?” 

‘Yes! Yes, Xavier Thorpe! Of course I want to kiss you! It’s my dream, my livelihood, my reason for being alive!’ is what I want to say. No. What I want to scream from the rooftops. But all that comes out is a hushed and hesitant “Yes.” 

He puts his long pointer finger under my chin and lifts my head towards his face so I have no choice but to stare into his beautiful green eyes once again. “Speak up, sweetheart.” If he wasn’t standing in between my legs right now, I would be forcing them closed. “Yes, you dick.” I force out, it comes out slightly louder than I expected, but the excitement is evident in my voice. “Then can I kiss you?” 

“Yes.” I assert firmly this time. 

His hands move down to my hips, and he squeezes them gently. He leans down and pecks me on the cheek, then the lips. Feeling unsatisfied, a sudden overwhelming confidence regains control of me. I wrap my hands around the back of his neck and suggest that “If you’re going to kiss me, you should at least do it properly.” He smirks again. God, he loves doing that. If it wasn’t so attractive I might just complain about it. “Like this?” He asks, grasping my hips harder this time and before I know it, our lips collide again. This time, it’s not as soft and fast-lived. It’s passionate, deep. If I thought the hug felt like two puzzle pieces fitting together, this is ,oh, so much better. Our lips move together in perfect harmony. My hand moves up into his hair, and I tug it gently, which covets a deep groan from the bottom of his throat into my mouth. I had never heard such a beautiful noise in my life. 

He pulled away softly. “Yeah. Like that.” I mutter breathlessly. 

“Thought so. Let’s go back to my dorm.” Yet another bold move from him. 

“I’m not that easy, Thorpe.” 

“No, idiot. You’re staying in my dorm tonight. You’ll sleep better.” 

That makes me smile. “Okay,” I accept. “but I expect more kisses.” 

“You read my mind, Y/N.” Oh, the irony.

#xavier thorpe #wednesday #xavier thrope imagine #xavier thorpe fluff #xavier x y/n #xavier x reader #fanfic #series? #oneshot?