#as requested by kit 💓

[pomegranate]

“C’est Magnifique!”

#mash #m*a*s*h #mashposting #margaret houlihan #movie tonight #mash s5ep21 #as requested by kit 💓 #despite loretta trying to sing ‘badly’ in some mash eps (less so here) she still has a gorgeous voice #also hawkeye’s french commentary lmao

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

hi! i hope you’re well. I’m back again with a request. i was thinking tan and reader being good friends and both having feelings for eachother. the reader is a nurse so tan often gets fixed up by her after missions. most of the times he comes over at a reasonable time and texts or calls before hand but not this time. he comes over unannounced around midnight scaring the reader awake. after realising it’s tan she’s quick to scold him abt getting injured so badly and being there so late. she gets her medical kit and cleans, bandages and if needed stitches his wounds while he’s sitting on the counter of her bathroom shirtless while she’s checking his wounds basically standing inbetween his legs. after finishing up they realise how close they are to one another. and one thing leads to another and they..?🤭💓

hii honey!! love love it! thank you for requesting, hope you like it. the image is too fitting to pass up💌

TWO AM WAKE-UP CALL.

tangerine x nurse fem!reader — fluff/ misc

word count. 444

warnings. a couple blood mentions

Being a nurse has its perks, of course, like any job. But what you never expected was the amount of irregular visits you'd get from a particular assassin friend of yours.

But tonight was different to most. You were startled awake by erratic knocking at your front door, the loud noise echoing through your place. 

And once you peek through the peephole, you see who is on the other side.

"Fuck," you gasp, looking at Tangerine through the gap of the open door. "What happened?" you ask, looking at his hand clasped over his bicep - blood seeping through his fingers. 

"Stabbed," he says simply, walking past you - heading for your bathroom.

"Oh my god, oh my god," you mutter, closing the door behind you. "Didn't get followed, did you? Oh my god, this is so bad— careful, watch the floor. You're dripping everywhere."

He mutters a 'no', far too agonised, face crumpling up as he pushes the bathroom door open. 

You collect your medical bag and immediately follow after him, joining him in the small room. He was already sitting on the edge of the counter, bloody shirt disregarded in the sink - his helpful self making it easier for you. 

"Sorry, should've called first," he shakes his head, diverting away bashfully. 

You softly hum as you slip on some gloves, visually assessing the slice in his upper arm. "It's okay," you nod, trying to reassure him. "I like being awake at two am cleaning blood," you joke.

Though, Tan doesn't seem impressed with your attempts at lightening the air, instead rather embarrassed.

"I'm sorry," you sympathetically frown at him and turn your attention back to his arm, cleaning the skin around the wound. "I'm kidding, it's okay, really."

He only nods, turning his eyes back to you as he watches you mend him - his focus eager, unbeknownst to you. 

"Thank you," he mutters, gaze still on your face, looking down at you standing between his knees. 

"It's no problem," you momentarily smile up at him and continue wrapping the bandage around his bicep - being mindful, not wanting to hurt him further. "You have to be more careful out there... don't want you dying on me."

"You don't have to worry about me. Not letting that happen," Tangerine reassures, slipping his free hand into yours - pressing a kiss into the latex on the back of it. His head cocks to the side sweetly, looking at you with warmth in his eyes. 

"I just worry about you, that's all."

And without a second to think otherwise, he cups the sides of your face, bringing you in for that much-awaited kiss. 

#request #abbiesrighttoe #tangerine #tangerine x reader #tangerine x fem!reader #tangerine bullet train

[malum-forev]

Congrats on 1k followers 💓 I am so happy for you!

And can I please request the “stranded” prompt from your bingo game?

Just imagine Bucky and reader not really liking each other and being stranded somewhere after a mission. The tension, the intrigue, the fluff! Ugh I’m excited ❤️‍🔥

Much love, Meg (espinosaurusrexex) ✨

Hiii thank you thank youuu!! ❤️‍🔥 Here's the "stranded" prompt! I hope you like it <33

*

Your legs felt heavy as you walked deeper into the forest. The “simple” mission Sam sent you on had taken you from morning to afternoon and now, into the night. You found yourself trying to ignore the ache enveloping your body as you dragged your exhausted body through the damp ground. Whoever said nature gives you peace and makes you feel grounded is an idiot. 

Stupid Sam, with his stupid mission, and his “You’ll be in and out in an hour, two tops.” You thought. 

On paper, it looked easy. You were supposed to go to a warehouse that was used as a training camp during the war somewhere in Vermont. There had been a couple of reports stating weird things were happening, there was talk of more super serum and information taken by Hydra being hidden there. But someone must have been tipped off because when you got there, everything was gone. Well, almost everything. Before you got to the warehouse, whoever was getting rid of the evidence clearly wanted to get rid of you too. Blinding gas tanks were detonated and they’d wired bombs to the landing strip, the quinjet completely destroyed. 

You always had a Plan B, of course. A safehouse some miles into the forest that bordered the area near Montreal. 

Your shoulders dropped as you saw caught sight of the small cabin. The sigh you let out was the first thing you’d heard in an hour, apart from the sound of two pairs of boots crunching down on the dropping leaves.

Bucky turned to look at you but you kept your gaze forward. You were in absolutely no mood to talk. It was his fault you were here but you knew he would never admit it. 

You walked up the old wooden stairs and stopped at the door.

“Are you waiting for the door to magically open?” Bucky crossed his arms over his chest.

Your hand covered your eyes. “You cannot be serious. Sam gave you the key for the safehouse in case we needed it.”

“Yeah, I know.” Bucky shrugged. “And I put it in my backpack.”

“And where’s your backpack?” You asked, annoyed. 

Bucky looked over both his shoulders and spun around once. “Does it fucking look like I have my backpack?”

“You lost the only thing you were supposed to keep track of?” You groaned. 

“Well I’m sorry, I was trying to not get killed by the fucking bombs!” Bucky rolled his eyes. 

You put your hand up, conveying a clear stop talking or I’ll kill you message, and knelt down. You took a couple of paper clips from the inside of your vest and straightened them to try and pick the lock. 

“Wouldn’t it be easier and more effective to carry a lockpick set?” Bucky asked. 

You stopped working on the lock to take a deep breath. We do not kill innocent people. You repeated in your head. Even if they’re not so innocent and they’re assholes.

You were able to get the door open after a few minutes. You took in your surroundings as you came in and turned on the lights. There was a landline phone at one end of the small cabin and a couple of medical aid kits, a couch on the other side of the four walls and a small table with two chairs next to it, but that was about it. You looked out the window and into the night, there wasn’t anything to be seen. Miles upon miles of trees, a good hour and a half away from any sort of civilization. You were truly stranded. 

“This place looks like shit.” Bucky said. 

Five words, that’s all it took to ignite the fire that had been lightly burning in your being. 

“Really? Because I think this place is incredibly charming.” You said, your words dripped sarcasm. “This was actually my idea of a perfect Friday night! Go on a mission, have you mess everything up by not checking if the place was decked out in bombs and having to walk almost two hours to a safehouse.”

“How is this my fault! You were the one who wanted to land the jet closer to the warehouse.” Bucky’s tone rose, his chest heaved. 

“Oh don’t you try and flip this situation around.” You warned. “Because the problem starts and ends with you being selfish! And because of your idiotic need for individualistic recognition and praise, we're stranded!”

Bucky was fully ready to let his wrath out on you but just as he was about to tell you why you were the problem, he saw a stain on your light grey vest. He furrowed his eyebrows at the large dark stain. 

“What happened to you?” He asked, getting closer and lightly tracing over the spot.

A painful shriek slipped out of you as you felt the pressure, Bucky stepped back. 

You grabbed one of the kits and dropped your body on one of the chairs. With a groan and a wince, you took your vest off and pulled your shirt up, tucking it under the wire of your bra. 

You teared the packaging for the antiseptic wipe and tried to clean the area. The large gash on the skin covering your ribs was still leaking blood. 

Bucky sat down on the chair next to you and pulled your chair closer to him, taking the wipe from your hands. “C’mon let me do it, I’ve got a better angle.”

You threw your head back and hissed as he pressed the wipe to your wound. 

“How’d you even get a cut like this?” Bucky asked, his usual frown softened a worried look taking its place.

You shrugged your shoulders. “What did you say earlier? I was trying to not get killed by the fucking bombs. Couldn’t really concentrate on anything else.”

The corner of Bucky’s mouth turned upwards slightly. 

You took sight of the man in front of you. The warm light cast intricate shadows on Bucky’s face. You could see his frown lines but you also took note of the small wrinkle on each side of his lips. Smile lines. You thought of the few times you’d seen him smile. You’d seen him give out his fake smile many times at press conferences or Stark events, but Buck’s true smile- the one you knew was hard to get out of him- you had only seen once or twice in passing. There was that one time when Sam finally broke him down with a cheesy joke, Bucky’s whole face would light up and an ear-to-ear smile would reveal his pearly whites. You had noticed your breath hitching when you saw him, not that you would ever admit it. 

A smile of your own threatened to appear as you saw how his tongue poked out of the side of his mouth, concentrated on treating your wound.

“Will you stop looking at me like that?” Bucky said in a soft voice. He took the needle out of the packaging, you needed at least three stitches. “It’s making me lose my focus.”

“Sorry.” You whispered.

“S’okay.” Bucky mumbled. 

You felt your mouth open without consulting with your brain. The question on the tip of your tongue. “Tell me a joke.” 

You don’t know what came over you but you asked it. Maybe it was the exhaustion or the lack of blood. You saw Bucky’s eyebrows furrow and his jaw tense. His expressive face went through all the emotions.

“A joke?” Maybe he hadn’t heard correctly, you definitely didn’t say that. How could the woman with whom he’d spent more time arguing than actually talking ask him to tell her a joke. 

“Tell me a joke.” You repeated, it was too late to back out now. 

“What’s a prize old people can win for aging?” Bucky asked, his eyes focused on finishing up your stitches but his brain was elsewhere. 

“What?” 

“Atrophy.” His celeste eyes looked up at yours and there it was, a smile. You knew you probably looked dumbfounded but there wasn’t any other expression you could make. Now you knew why Bucky didn’t smile as much, that man could start a war if he wanted to just by flashing a quick smile. 

You let out a light laugh. “That was a really bad joke.”

“I’m out of practice, I can’t remember the last time someone asked me for a joke.” Bucky bit his bottom lip. 

“You should smile more often.” Bucky’s eyes widened at your words. 

“I-I should?” He stuttered, quickly finishing the last stitch. Taking a bandage strip and placing it over his work. 

“You have a really nice smile.” You said and watched as his cheeks turned red. 

With a cough, he stood up from the chair. Rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. “Thanks, it’s- been a long time since someone’s said that.”

“Am I the first person to tell you you have a nice smile in 70 years?” You asked. 

“Well- I – when you think about it-“ Bucky’s brain was frying, he had no idea what to do in this situation. He’d begged Sam not to put you two together in a mission for this exact reason. You were extremely irritating to him but at the same time he couldn’t help but want you. Want to be near you. You had the ability to make him angry in a matter of seconds but make his pants feel tight with just a couple of words. The devious smile playing on your lips only made him harder. 

“I’m gonna call Sam to see when he can pick us up.” Bucky gulped. 

Hi hiiii This is part of my 1k Celebration, if you like this please be sure to look at the Bingo Card and ask for a prompt! Love y'all <33

*Any gifs posted are not my own and I give the artist full credit.

#bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky imagine #bucky x female reader #bucky #bucky fanfic #bucky x y/n #bucky barns x reader #bucky barns x y/n #bucky barns fanfiction #bucky barns x you #james bucky buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you angst #bucky barnes x reader angst #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes os #college au #college au!bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x reader #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier x you #sebastian stan x you #marvel fanfic

[billlydear]

hi, can i request a hurt/comfort fic where reader is struggling with family problems (maybe like billy or maybe something different) and they’re kind of a jerk like billy too? but then something happens that breaks them down and he just so happens to be there and he actually helps them deal with it. if you’ve already written something like this then i’m sorry, i’m new here 😅 but i love your writing and i’m excited to read more 💓

GOT A LIGHT? - BILLY HARGROVE X READER

W.C 1948 - INBOX (please request !) - GIF CREDIT TO OWNER

A/N: ohh my god i'm sorry i went MIA for like two weeks!! more to come soon, i promise <3 warnings: mentions of abuse, reader is abused similar to billy, they smoke together, angst, angst with a happy ending (? maybe hopeful, not happy 😅)

He's in his car when it happens. It's late, past 2AM, which is why he supposes your mother sees no problem opening the door and shoving you out. You trip over the porch step when she pushes you, landing hard on your ass on the concrete while she looms over you.

"Find somewhere to stay for the night," She seethes, spitting mad, "Because you're not welcome here."

He's suspected it for a while. Anger like the stuff inside of him, anger like the stuff he's seen ooze out of you, that doesn't happen for no reason. He's disappointed but not surprised to watch you fall, staying concealed in the darkness of his car as he watches from across the street.

You don't even try to get up, and Billy knows exactly how you feel. Sometimes, when you're knocked on your ass, you don't get back up. You're a modern day Sisyphus, and the boulder's rolled back down your hill one too many times. He decides to help you push.

He doesn't want you to startle if he slams the door to his car, so he leaves it open. Under any other circumstances, he'd close and lock it, watching from the other side of the street to make sure no one even breathes near it. But it's in the back of his mind as he crosses the street to your house, the slightly chilled night air nipping at his bare, toned arms.

He stops behind you, boots scraping slightly against the pavement. You don't dare look at him, you know who he is. There's only one person across the street that would be out at 2AM, and he's the last person you want to see.

"Come sit in my car," He murmurs, keeping his voice low in case your mom can hear from inside.

"Fuck off." You keep your eyes down, still turned away from him and splayed over the pavement. You're propped up on your elbows, and Billy sees one of them slowly staining the ground red.

"You can sleep in the backseat if you want," He presses on, ignoring your hostility the way no one ever ignores his, "I'll pass out in the front and keep the heater running."

"Fuck. off."

"I'm not allowed inside tonight either," Billy finally admits, "My dad and your mom took the same parenting class."

You're quiet, and Billy knows you're thinking about it. Thinking about all the times you've seen him threaten to blow, all the times you've heard the whistle of his teapot before it boiled over, all the times he lingers on the street too late to be casual.

"I have a first aid kit under the seat." Billy looks at the red-stained concrete, "And you can bum my cigarettes."

It's a peace offering. It's all a peace offering, a confirmation that there's someone else like him out there, and he'll be damned if he lets you slip through his fingers. He's spent enough time hiding from everyone that could never understand, and now that he knows someone can, he can finally talk. He can finally feel, he can finally relate, he can finally live.

Everything hinges on this. He can't keep doing this, he can't keep spending cold nights on the front steps or sneaking to the kitchen for an ice pack to put over his ribs. He can't do it alone, and you're the only one that can help him. He feels his heart beating out of his chest, pounding in his ears and pooling blood near his feet where they're bent against the sidewalk. His thighs are burning from how long he's been squatting, but he'd rather die than give up and walk away.

He uses your silence to mentally heal your wounds. He thinks about bandaging your fingers, disinfecting your cuts with a thin, pale antiseptic wipe that'll burn his own abrasions. He fantasizes about the simple act of sharing a cigarette with a friend, and you seem to share his thoughts.

"You- uh, you got a light?"

He knows that surrender. He knows the witty quip, the emotionally-distant snark meant to change the subject and disguise hurt for indifference. It's why he doesn't demand a 'Thank you,' because the way you look back at him is enough of one. You let him help you off the ground, and support half of your weight when the knee you'd tweaked gives you trouble. He helps you hobble back to his car, and he even shuffles you into the driver's seat to get you in quick and easy, where the door is still open. No one else has ever sat in the driver's seat of his car.

"I'll get the first aid kit," He murmurs, "Take a smoke."

He hears you wrestle with the pack of cigarettes he'd left on the center console while he digs around in the backseat for his first aid kit. When he gets back with the little plastic box there's one between your lips unlit, and he remembers your earlier question.

"Here," He fumbles in his pocket for his lighter. He yanks it out, sparking it until a flame roars to life. He holds it against your unlit cigarette, watching as the embers form and glow in the dark.

"Thanks," You mumble, and he nods while reaching for your hands. They're scraped and raw, blood dark in the creases of your fingers but light over your palms like you'd formed a fist and bunched it up there. There's rocks in your cuts from the concrete of your front steps, and he picks it out with his fingernails, crimson gathering under them that, for once, isn't his own.

You hiss as he pulls a particularly rough rock from its spot, and he fights not to acknowledge it. He doesn't want you to feel weak, so he keeps picking until your hands are gravel-free. He's far too good at wrapping wounds for an 18 year-old, but neither of you comment on it. He knows you are, too.

"There," He keeps your hands in his own, only a thin layer of gauze separating his skin from yours. He only moves his hands to pluck the cigarette from between your lips with one, and you blow smoke out of the side of your mouth instead of in his face as a thank-you.

"You sleep in here?" You raise an eyebrow, and he throws a scathing glance at his house.

"Sometimes. Only when my dad's having a bad night."

"So all of them," You scoff, "I've seen you out here before. I was gonna-" You pause, scoffing, then bury your face in your bandaged hands, scrubbing it clean of something Billy's sure is vulnerability. He takes a drag from your cigarette while you hesitate.

"I was gonna come out and ask if you were okay," You grumble from inside your protective shell, "But I- I dunno, I try not to be out here at night if I don't have to be."

"You don't know if they'll let you back in," Billy mumbles, nodding while funneling smoke out of the corner of his mouth, "I get it."

You nod, then shiver. Billy suddenly remembers he's still crouched on asphalt and not safe inside, because a cigarette and a friend concoct warmth he's never known before. He pats your knee, then stands, "I'll crank up the heater."

It's weird being in the passenger's seat of his own car. He's been in there to clean, scrape mud from the wheels of Max's skateboard off of the floor while he curses her under his breath. But it's different settling in the seat, head leaning back against the headrest while you shut the driver's side door. Silence envelops the car, and Billy clicks the lights on so that you've got a warm glow cast over you.

"Thanks for the cigarette," You take it back from him when he offers it to you, "That's what- uh, that's why I was out there. My mom found mine."

"My dad doesn't care," Billy spits, grateful for the freedom but doomed by the negligence, "I think he'll be glad if I die of lung cancer so he doesn't have to kill me himself."

You snort, and he's so glad you don't apologize. There's a certain familiarity that the two of you can speak with, you don't have to preface anything with 'okay, this is kind of dark, but-' or 'can i tell you something personal?'. You both have the same lives, and conversation clicks into place like puzzle pieces.

He wonders when the last time you got to relax was, as you sink into the seat. Your shoulders aren't tense and your eyes drift shut, both things that seem impossible for Billy in his own home. He suspects it's the same for you, which is why he doesn't lament the night ending so soon.

He wants to say goodnight to you, like a friend would. He wants to pretend he's at a sleepover on your floor, like your mom had brought you two cookies an hour ago, and now you're playing cards in your sleeping bags. He wants to pretend things are normal, that you're kids hopped up on sugar and giggles, not teenagers on nicotine and despair.

But the scent of smoke fills his car, and there are bandages on your hands. So he waits for your breathing to even out, watching the slow rise and fall of your chest in time with the seconds that slip away from your last encounter with your family. In, out, in, out, further and further away from the horrors in your house.

Only when he's absolutely certain you're asleep does he dare speak, and his voice is barely anything above a whisper, raspy and cautious.

"Goodnight," He murmurs, because he feels incomplete shutting his eyes without saying it. He keeps his head turned towards you as he sleeps, legs splayed open as he slumps against the seat behind him. He's almost afraid to go to sleep, on high alert to make sure that nothing can steal away his opportunity. Making sure the lights in his house are still off, that his dad won't give up and push him back into the house in case the neighbors see him sleeping in his car. He's busy making sure your lights aren't on either, that your mother doesn't storm over and demand that her child be released from the young man's car. And he's making sure you don't slip out yourself, like you're a puff of smoke that could vanish if he puts too much faith in you.

But eventually, his eyes slip shut and don't open again for hours. He goes to sleep with a friend in his car, and he wakes up with one, too. There's light streaming through the windshield, and the car is more than warm because of it. There's birds chirping, there's people walking their dogs, there's chatter over backyard fences, and there's you.

You're flipping through a book of postcards that he keeps in the driver's side door, all of California's scenic spots. Your fingers are brushing over his favorite now, the beaches along the coast that he'd swore to surf clean across. You glance over at him when he shifts in his seat, and you bite the inside of your cheek before breaking the silence.

"Morning," You mumble, averting your eyes to the postcard in your lap, "These are.. these are really pretty."

"Yeah they are," Billy rasps, morning voice in full effect, "Prettier in person, though."

"I'll have to go sometime, then." You hum, and Billy's decided before you flip to the next page that he'll be the one to take you.

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove angst #billy hargrove fluff #billy hargrove oneshot #billy hargrove blurb #billy hargrove drabble #billy hargrove fanfic #billy hargrove fic #billy hargrove x reader fanfiction

[oncasette]

More Andrew Neiman? Maybe like a "come to bed" moment. He obviously won't listen because sleep is temporary, drums are forever. Last resort: you end up sitting in his lap and persuade him in other ways... ending with cuddling? 💓💓

this request is soooo old and i'm so so sorry but i hope everyone still enjoys. i'm trying to go back through my ask box and write the ones that still spark joy :)

you were seconds away from walking out into the living room and just snapping drew's stick in half. it wasn't that you hated his drumming. far from it, actually, it'd been one of the reasons you'd been so interested in him to begin with. but you were getting a little sick of hearing it at full volume through the thin plaster of your apartment's walls in the wee hours of the morning.

"drew?" you called. nothing. or, not nothing. the incessant banging was something.

you grumbled as you pushed yourself up and out of the cocoon you'd constructed, keeping a single blanket wrapped tight over your shoulders as a barrier for the cold threatening to hit you. throwing open the door, you came face to face with your boyfriend. he didn't even spare a glance, winced eyes locked on the kit in front of him.

"andrew!" you shout in hopes that it'll break through his trance better than your regular speaking voice. he looks up quick and shakes his head. you hear his cadence falter slightly. he grabs the cymbal to stall its movement and gathers both of his sticks into one hand.

"what is it?" he asks groggily. the bags under his eyes beg for your further interruption.

"can you please come to bed?" you ask. you offer him your best pout in hopes that it'll sway him.

"i will soon, i've almost got this." he stretches out his back and resets his sticks.

"you said that six hours ago," you say. you shuffle a foot or so closer to him.

"babe-"

"c'mon, drew. you know i usually let you play for however long you want. just come to bed tonight. for me, please?" you ask as you come around the side of the kit. you drop yourself down into his lap, his hands instinctively coming around to hold your waist and keep you settled there. allowing the thin blanket to drop off your shoulders, you bring one hand up to force his gaze on you.

he whispers your name.

leaning forward, you slant your mouth over his. he hesitates at first and you know he's seconds away from pulling away completely to urge you back into your bedroom so that he can get back to work, but then he's melting into you. his hold tightens on your waist and his tongue slips into the gap between your lips and you feel the tension in his shoulders ease as he leans further in to capture your gasp.

he breaks away but he offer you no space. "only for you."

#andrew neiman #andrew neiman x reader #whiplash #whiplash imagine #miles teller #miles teller x reader

[kit-walk3r]

You mentioned you could flesh some of the Evans as Parents out into oneshots and asked if anyone would have interest in some in particular... well I gotta say that dad Kit and dad Colin are way too adorable hahaha... if it's okay could you write oneshots for these two parenting pretty please? thank you 💗

Thank you for the request! I’m glad that people liked my Evans as parents headcanons and wanted to read more! This one is for Colin but Kit will be coming along soon. Enjoy 💓

I’ll Always Be Here (dad!Colin Zabel x fem!reader)

A bad case really shakes Colin up and he needs to be with his little girl.

Warnings: mention of a child death (the same one from Colin’s case in MoE)

Note: My first Colin fic! It’s a little short but I hope people still like it. Also I had no clue what to name Colin’ daughter so I went on a random name generator and got Millie. It’s cute so it works 🤷‍♀️

It had been a tough day, one of those days you just want to forget. One of those days you never wanted to face. Colin had to do the unthinkable today. He’d had to tell two parents that their ten year old daughter had died, the girl they still hoped was alive out there. After months of investigation she had finally been found, just not in the condition Colin, the parents and probably everyone hoped for. It had been an awful day.

After hearing about the breakthrough in Colin’s case you knew you couldn’t go to bed before he got home, knowing that he’d need your support as soon as he stepped through the door. So, after you’d bathed Millie and put her to bed you settled down on the couch and put on some random movie, waiting for Colin to come home.

It was 2am when he finally got home, and you were still awake on the sofa waiting for him.

Colin looked utterly defeated as he stepped through the door. His face was pale, dark circles were under his eyes and just the way he held his body was sad. You were instantly up from the couch and pulling Colin into your arms, hugging him. His arms automatically wrapped around you and he clung to you tightly, pressing his face into your neck. You felt a dampness against your skin and you realised he was crying.

“She was only ten,” he cried and you tightened your hold on him, just being there for him. He needed you right now, and you were going to be the best comfort you could be.

“You found her, Colin,” you murmured, pulling back from the hug to look him directly in his bloodshot eyes. You cupped his cheek. “You found her and you brought her home.”

“But not alive,” Colin’s voice was barely audible, but you could still hear the heartbreak. He sniffed and wiped his eyes free of tears. “Is Millie in bed?”

You nodded. “Yeah she’s been asleep for a few hours. She went down straight away tonight. No fuss.”

Colin cracked a smile. “That’s my girl,” he said softly. “Do you mind if I go see her?”

“Colin, you don’t need to ask,” you rolled your eyes before pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Of course you can go see her.”

You knew why Colin wanted to go and sit with Millie. He’d always popped his head round the door if she was in bed when he got home from work, just to see her and make sure she was okay, but the past few weeks he’d been spending a lot longer in there. Some nights he’d sit in there for hours, not wanting to let Millie out of his sight. This case he was working on had made him paranoid, and although Colin and Millie together was such a lovely sight, it also broke your heart, knowing the stress and heartache he was going through trying to find this poor girl. You just knew Colin was imagining what if the missing girl was Millie.

Colin made his way to Millie’s room. It was lit up with a purple butterfly shaped night light which illuminated Millie’s tiny face. He grabbed the rocking chair from the corner of the room and dragged it so that it was next to his daughter’s bed, so he could sit and admire her and remind himself that Millie was home and safe.

“I’ll always be here for you,” Colin murmured as he softly ran a hand over his little girl’s barely there hair. “No matter where you are, or how old you are. When you’re a grumpy teenager who wants nothing to do with her dad. When I’m old and you’re the one pushing me around. When you don’t think you need me anymore. I’ll still be here. I’ll always be here.”

Colin’s eyes began to water once again at the thought of what he had seen today and he quickly wiped away the tears with his spare hand. “You’re my absolute world,” he whispered to sleeping Millie. “You’re everything to me. I’m so lucky to have you, Millie Zabel, and I would do anything for you, anything you want me to,” he wiped his eyes again. “And I’ll never let anybody hurt you.”

He pressed a kiss to her sleeping head, before getting up and heading to his own room where you were waiting for him, making sure to leave the door open a crack so he could hear if his little girl needed her daddy.

•———•

I wanted dad!Colin to be a happier fic but this was the first plot which came to mind and I thought it fit some of what I wrote in my headcanons about Colin being protective

Taglist: @jellyluvr @howtobesasha @dewberryobssesed @luv4evan @kaismanwich @violetharmonstwin @daylas-life @mariefics

Want to join my taglist? Just reply here!

#Colin zabel #mare of easttown #Evan peters #colin zabel x reader #Colin zabel x you #Colin zabel x y/n

[wh3nturtlesfly]

Hi! Can I request Fem! Criminal! Villain x Fem! Protagonist?

The villain is tasked to break into the protagonist's house and kill her in her sleep, but she just couldn't do it and decided to spend the rest of the night protecting the reader (protagonist)? + what would she do if the reader had a nightmare?

Sending you so much love!! 💓💓

It was all going like clockwork. Villain slid the lockpicking kit into her pocket and passed through the open window with a grace unlike any other. She fought off the shiver that came after being exposed to the brisk outside air for so long. Even with her thick leather jacket the cold air had seeped through as she climbed.

Silently, Villain slid the window shut, careful not to disturb the quiet with any of her footsteps. She padded across the floor and brought the apartment’s layout to her memory.

Judging by the blueprints she had studied, Hero would be asleep in the second room on the right. Villain slinked around a small kitchen table and approached the space. Hero had no idea what would happen that night, and if Villain was as slick as always, she never would.

It was a matter of stealth as she crept across the small space. Villain had been faced with much harder areas to navigate before, and the small apartment was almost child's play. Aside from the stray papers on the floor, there was nothing to accidentally reveal her location.

The moment she stood in front of the bedroom’s threshold, Villain could hear the soft pattern of Hero’s breathing. Fast asleep, and oh so helpless. A grin split Villain’s lips as she turned the doorknob.

Inside was a sea of darkness. Villain had to squint to make out the layout of the room, though everything was just as she had prepared for. A small desk in the corner, a window with the curtains drawn shut, and in the center- Hero, sleeping atop a small mattress.

Villain’s eyes narrowed as her mind switched into focus. Her hand drifted to her belt and coiled around a metallic hilt. Daggers were her weapon of choice- some may call it old fashioned, but she preferred a soundless slit of the throat rather than the blast of a firearm that was sure to wake the neighbors and leave her ears ringing. Maybe that was why she had been hired in the first place. Her employer had claimed that no one else had been able to complete the job. Amateurs.

She observed the rise and fall of Hero’s chest as she approached the bed. Soon to end forever. Villain drew the dagger above her head and it glinted in the single sliver of moonlight that fled through the curtains. One swing and it would all be over.

Hands braced on the hilt of her weapon, Villain swung the dagger down in a brilliant arc. Down, down, down.

A cry escaped Hero’s lips.

Villain froze. The tip of the dagger barely nicked Hero’s neck. Not even a speck of blood. Her chest still rose and fell, though that wasn’t what caught Villain’s attention.

That cry- it wasn’t from the Villain. It had nearly shook the walls of the room and yet Hero still didn’t wake. Villain broke her stance, observing her target, and for the first time noticed the wrinkle in Hero’s brow.

Hero was pale, and sweat glistened along her forehead. Villain’s dagger fell to her side and as her gaze trailed down she recognized the sheets tangled around Hero’s legs. Had she been dreaming?

Again a noise sounded through the space, though this one was much quieter, a mere whimper. Villain watched her target toss and turn in the sheets, her peaceful slumber suddenly anything but.

It was enough to make the Villain stumble back. Arms flailing and an expression laced with pure turmoil. Hero was nearly manic, and yet she still wouldn’t wake. Amidst her struggles a jumble of sentences escaped her. At first it was mere gibberish, though soon Villain began to understand the words.

“No-” Hero called to the air, “No, please- you can’t. You can’t-”

A jolt shot through her, enough for the Villain to fear that the Hero had awoken. “STOP!” She screamed, “Please, no- no- NO!”

But she did not stir.

Hero’s fight was that of the mind, and by the looks of it she wouldn’t emerge victorious. Pity flickered through Villain’s thoughts. Enough that she found herself sheathing the dagger. Against all better judgment she took a seat on the bed.

The silken sheets were warm beneath her. Villain brought her attention to Hero, whose breathing was so quick that Villain feared she may hyperventilate simply from whatever nightmare ailed her. It would be impossible for her to finish the job in this state. Much too messy, she would never get a clear shot.

A sigh fell from Villain’s tired form. She again looked at her target. There were tears in the corners of Hero’s eyes and she continued to mutter all whilst asleep. It would be so easy to wake her, just a mere shake of the shoulders, and yet to wake the Hero would be to compromise Villain’s mission. She couldn’t risk it.

Instead Villain found herself reaching out towards her enemy. Her own hesitant thoughts were not enough to stop her as she laid a hand upon Hero’s forehead and gently brushed aside a lock of hair. Hero’s clothes were doused in sweat and yet the Villain had no trouble straightening out the folds in her shirt and undoing the covers from where they had coiled around Hero’s ankles.

Villain’s hand again found the Hero’s face, this time to rest on her cheek. Her thumb brushed lightly over the skin, pale with worry, and she smoothed the wrinkle in Hero’s brow. “Shh, it’s all right,” Villain whispered, “It’s just a dream.”

Somehow that seemed to steady Hero even amidst her slumber. Villain continued to whisper reassurances, unsure if the Hero could actually hear her though glad that she had quieted. She moved to stand up and retrieve the dagger she had sheathed before, only to have Hero lean into the touch of her fingers.

Villain froze. A hand rose, creeping across the sheets until it eventually found its target. Hero’s own hand covered the Villain’s, and it took all her self control to keep her breath from hitching. Soft skin brushed across her own, a weak attempt at capturing her hand but a valiant effort when all done in sleep. This was not good.

If Villain wanted to finish the job she surely would have to pry Hero’s fingers away, but she couldn’t risk waking her up. Any movement could trigger her to wake. Villain had been quite lucky to get this far without alerting the crime-fighter, she couldn’t risk it now. Not when she was so close.

And still, as her fingers closed around the dagger she felt the smallest pressure among her trapped hand. Hero sighed sweetly, and as she did so her grip tightened. Safe. The nightmare had finally gone.

Villain cursed herself silently. She couldn’t do it- not tonight.

She stayed there for the remainder of the night, only fleeing into the shadows when the first rays of sun began to break over the horizon.

The crackle of her radio was a constant reminder, Employer’s task forever stuck in her mind. Hero would have to fall one day, though not yet. Villain would keep telling herself that each night she snuck into the Hero’s quarters.

#turtlewrites #hero x villain #villain x hero #wlw #heroine #villainess #snippet #writing snippet #hurt/comfort #heroes and villains

[sublimecatgalaxy]

liz💓💓 you already know how obsessed i am with pedro lol can i request something where the reader and joel are out looking for supplies when things start to get a little spicy and joel basically has to try and keep her quiet so that they don’t get caught by clickers? this is probably terrible but just the thought of joel whispering in my ear makes my head spin 🤭

I would literally do anything for you- so yes. I didn't know how spicy you wanted this so I went with my gut. This is definitely smut LMAO.

"You sure we're good here for the night?" Ellie asks behind me, her hand gripping onto mine tighter as I turn to Joel who gives me a hesitant look, rapping his fingers against the door of the department store that we've entered quietly.

Nothing happens, no clicking, no mumbling, nothing. Just pure and utter silence that happens to be more terrifying anything.

Joel waves us on to follow him, his gun ready at his side as he carefully and calculatedly steps around the stems on the ground, careful to not awake the hoard just a half mile away. Ellie looks up at me and holds the flashlight beneath her chin with a giggle, forcing a laugh out of me but our fun is killed when Joel turns around with a scowl and he reaches up to press a finger to his lips.

"Joel, look." I reach out to grab his hand in mine after pointing towards the wall of camping gear and he relaxes a bit, turning back to me with a soft, proud smile- maybe not a full smile but it's something.

"Did he just smil-"

"We don't mention it." I whisper to Ellie as she giggles under her breath, gripping onto my hand before I can let go of Joel's hand, he squeezes mine tighter, not letting me go as we continue towards the object of our affection, the huge tent on the wall and the supplies scattered around it.

We work on gathering what we can into the bags that we find, canteens, packaged food, canned food, first aid kits for mine and Ellie's clumsy asses, but most importantly we found texts and blankets that would end up doing us well.

"Was that thunder?" Ellie asks after the blatantly loud crash that could genuinely be anything in the state of the world that we're in. But another loud crash fills the room along with a bright flash of lightening and I jump, looking to Joel with a frantic look.

"We can set up camp here." Joel's stern voice almost comforts me because I know that he'd never steer us wrong or lead us down a bad path, always wanting to keep his two girls safe. "Set up the tents, rest a bit." He claps his hands with a sigh, reaching down to grab his back and a tent before turning to us.

"Seems like we're pretty safe here for now." I shrug, looking to Ellie who isn't completely convinced of our plan to hunker down. I know she's eager to get to her final destination and, don't get me wrong, so are we, but it's hard to be up and moving for days, especially in this world. "I say we do it." I give her a nod, reaching out to pat her shoulder soothingly and she nods. "Am I with you or Ellie?"

"With me." Joel says before I can even get the sentence out and he begins to walk away, expecting me to follow. but I'm stuck in my place, looking to Ellie with wide, shocked eyes. She laughs and gives me a little nudge in his direction and I can feel an anticipatory shiver run down my spine.

"You heard the man, go."

It takes a bit for us all to get settled, Joel helping Ellie and I both put our tents up before we allow ourselves to settle into our respected spaces, unpacking and actually changing out of the clothes we've been in for days on end now.

It's hard not to watch him as he turns his back to me, stripping himself of his shirt, revealing the strong muscles of his back and neck, his biceps clenching with every move while he puts on a new shirt. I try to do the same, I try to pick my jaw up from the floor and finally change- the only thing I've been thinking about for days- but now that I'm here, alone with him for the first time in at least a week, all I can think about is reaching out and touching him.

But I don't.

"Do you have an extra shirt, Joel?" I ask timidly, rubbing my arms that are covered in goosebumps, biting at my lip as Joel rummages through his bag, pulling out a large t-shirt before tossing it in my direction. "Thanks."

I sit up, stripping myself of my shirt as I wrap my arms around my bare chest, feeling Joel shift behind me as I feel a hand on my bare waist.

It's been so long since we've had the time for him to touch me, only sneaking quick grazes of our hands against one another while we've had Ellie attached to us.

I shiver against his touch, neck craning back to look at him and he smiles softly, wrapping his other arm around me, hand coming up to wrap around my throat, thumb rubbing gently against my jaw as he pulls me back into him.

His lips find my neck, free hand that's not keeping up chin tilted upwards travels down my chest and waist, touching and exploring every inch of my free skin. Anywhere he can reach, he'll touch.

"Missed you." I whisper, tilting my head to catch his lips in a heated kiss, my whole body warming after being out in the damp cold for so long, and I move to turn in his grasp, sliding effortlessly into his lap with a moan.

"'m right here-" I pause against his lips as I clear clicking outside, my jaw dropping and eyes lifting to look back at the door and Joel freezes against me. "Shh." He whispers, rubbing my back soothingly as the clickers seem to pass by the tent, not bothering to tune in on the way that I'm breathing and for a minute, Ellie passes through my mind, wondering if she hears them too.

"Fuck." I mutter moments later, hearing tapping on the tent wall and I fly to slip a sweatshirt over my head as the door begins to unzip. Joel's armed in nearly a second, gun positioned firmly towards the door as Ellie shows up in the gap of the tent wall

"It's me!" She squeaks, tossing her backpack into our tent and I give Joel a look and a pregnant pause falls over the tent as Ellie looks around behind her. "They're gone." She breathes a sigh of relief and shivers, looking to Joel in a pleading look. "I hate to kill the romance but can I hang in here for the rest of the night. If I'm going to die, so are you guys."

"That's the whole point of protecting you. C'mon kid." I giggle, tugging her into the tent and into my arms as she cuddles into my sleeping bag, Joel glaring at us from across the tent with his oh so familiar scowl.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o- Taglist: @bubblebuttwade @rafelover2405 @leslienjazzy @sorceresss @grxnde-dwt @alex–awesome–22 @bunnietoof @niyamar1e @serialghost @plantlungs @geniusohn @akaliltimmytim @lilaalouuxx @xshariex @elliotsbeigeguitar @elle4404 @lelieja @srhxpci @joselyn001 @taysirene @spinkspanther @thedivineuphoria @peter-maximoffs @tsukishimawhore @poohkie90 @szlaco @distantsighs @nstyles4299 @wolflover384 @givemefoodandlovesstuff @vane28282 @yeswhatever33 @amirrahfranson @vvaalleennttiinna @f-mu @yaspillz @jeyramarie @skylievin@abbybarnes17 @jointherebellion215 @visiondaddy @steezysimfinds @its-ya-gay-boi-luigi @crunchytoenailsyum@glizzymcguirex @beth123lg @melovesmut @rafecameronswhore @ariianelle @write-from-the heart @vampviolets@haylee-e @honee-chai-tea @lokiandbuckywife

@officiallyunofficialperson@heyaitsklaudia@rosepetalsparks @bluetreecloud20 @scenesofobx @double-shot-of-tequila @1dluver13xx @colbysbrocks @iamasimpingh0e @loveshineslikethesky @id-3-kbro @diorsitgirl @errorfound101-allideasburnedout @neverwillknowme18 @ellyskey @taylors-folk @loversjoy @myaloveee @thyris-is @lagataprrr @aaaaslaaaan @witxhy-lexx @minjix @luvroseee @tee-swizzle @savageneversaw @admiringlove @hysteriahall @piceous21 @starlightandfairies @igotmajordaddyissues @drewstarkey-wife1 @manyfandomsfanvergent @revesephemeres @rafesbae01

#joel #joel x reader #joel miller #joel miller x reader #the last of us #the last of us fic #joel miller smut #joel smut

[elliebean714]

Hi! I'm new to ypur blog, but I noticed that you write for certain Bioshock characters- Would it be alright if I asked for some random Atlas fluff, or a cute fluff request with subject delta where he mistakes a female citizen in rapture as a little sister bc of her height and is all 'MUST PROTECT MY BABY' around her?

Thanks so much! Feel free to dm me/send a request to my inbox.

UGGGHHHH I WISH BOTH WERE AN OPTION??? THANK YOU SM FOR REQUESTING BIOSHOCK??? I LOVE YOU FOR THAT???💖💕💘💞💗💘💓 went with delta tho cus bioshock 2 is my favourite of the three+delta is my favourite protagonist, not that the competition was sparse yk? Faceless white guy, awful white guy or father of the decade? Yeah easy choice. Luv em all tho xx kinda diverged from the request a bit hope that's kay♡

I'm Just Short

Subject Delta X Short!F!Reader

Fluff

During-Game

Fire crackled in red barrels and water leaked from the ceilings, occasionally Dr Lambs creepy voice would boom over the screechy intercom.

You were running, being chased by Lambs splicers for rescuing a little sister, almost out of bullets.

Heart pounding in your chest, feeling the ice of the rapture floor against your cut, sore, almost bare feet from how torn and old your shoes were. You ducked behind some cover as more splicers began searching for you. They had you pinned down.

After a few moments of contemplating your options, you hear something heavy thumping around, gunshots, fire, and a Big Daddy's groan.

Oh shit.

Adding a Big Daddy to your list of problems, her options dwindled down significantly. You were not going to even think about trying to kill that thing, you were far too low on ammo and supplies. Not to mention how weak you were, even just against one splicer.

You had to run. He had distracted the splicers chasing you, no-one would notice you disappear. Taking a quick look up you saw the amount of splicers was already down to two or three. You looked for a good, fast path out of there.

Once you found an easily accessible route, you sprinted for it as fast as your legs could carry you. Then you heard the thumping behind you, like the big daddy was running after you.

Panicking, you ran into a room and began barricading the door with anything heavy you could move and searching every nook and cranny as fast as you could for supplies, you were lucky enough to find a first aid kit and a couple of shotgun shells, but nowhere near enough to help with fighting a Big Daddy.

The footsteps get louder and louder as you duck into a corner, hoping the lack of light in the room would make you harder to detect if he managed to get in.

And he did. After a quick push, he easily entered the room and, to your horror, made a beeline right for you. You prepared yourself for the worst, shocked to see him only leave his hand out for you to take.

Unsure of what was happening but with no other options you shakily took his hand. Surprised by his gentle nature when all he did was help you stand. After ensuring you were not injured he picked you up and placed you on his back, like you were a Little Sister.

Before you could protest he was on the move, after a few minutes he dropped you off at a corpse and began laying traps down like he was preparing for something. Confused, you just looted the corpse and stared up at him once you were done. He look down at you like he was waiting for something.

"What? You want me to get Adam from it? I'm not a Little Sister, and I don't have a needle so I couldn't even if I wanted to." You told him, becoming increasingly agitated by his confusion.

When he saw that you weren't harvesting any Adam, he just lifed you up and put you on his back again. This time carrying you towards a Little Sister vent.

Before setting you down he lays his hand over your forehead, like he's rescuing a Little Sister. Once he's done he sets you down safely beside it then stands back like he's waiting for you to climb inside.

"I can't fit, you idiot. I'm not a kid. I'm just short." You tell him.

But he only stares at you patiently. You just sigh and mumble something about him being an idiot then try to fit into the vent. Although you shockingly actually fit through the vent.

"Uggh. What the hell." You grumble before deciding to climb the rest of the way through.

What I Write~

Games

TWD

Dano

Requests Always Open 🌊

~Elliebean714

♤♡◇♧☆♧◇♡♤♡◇♧☆♧◇♡♤♡◇♧☆

#bioshock x reader #bioshock #bioshock 2 x reader #bioshock 2 #subject delta x reader #subject delta

[laurasstufff1]

can i request one for jadon when the reader is a player for man u women and he watches her play and she gets injured really bad like until bleeding or unconscious (u choose) and he gets so worried

A little blurb, hope you like it 😊💓

Jadon didn’t know what was the thing that made him fall in love with you so easily and naturally. Maybe it was because of the happy face you always had, the way you treated him, his family and friends, the endless topics of conversations or the fact that you loved football as much as he did.

There was nothing more exciting for him than going to the Old Trafford to watch you play with that same red kit as his, even the same number (and, hopefully soon, same last name). He loved it, but he would never admit how much he suffered too. Sometimes he just felt jealous watching you play while he couldn’t, or he would get really nervous when there were clear options of goals, whether was for your team or the other. But nothing compared to the faults you always received playing as a striker. 

It had happen to you a couple of times: kicks, shoving, stomping… but today it was different.

He was in his usual spot, behind the benches, but even from there he could hear the head-to-head collision when you were just trying to score. Neither you or the defender calculated the little space left. 

You felt to the floor feeling sick from the collision, closing your eyes and just staying still so it wouldn’t get worse. It surely looked bad from the outside, Jadon was already getting up from his seat, but Jesse stopped him.

“Let the professionals do their job, she’ll be fine” he said getting up too so he could actually see.

“She’s fucking unconscious!” Jadon shouted to his friend, not daring to look back at the pitch, where the paramedics were taking care of you.

“She’s not. Look” Indeed, you were already getting up, but had to sit down again because of the dizziness. This time, no one stopped Jadon to jump into the pitch and sprint faster than he thought he could until he reached your side.

“Fuck” he mumbled only then realising the small bleeding cut on your forehead “you good?”

“Just a little dizzy” you managed to say before they brought the stretcher to take you out of there,  Jadon still by your side. “Can you let my hands go? I just want to tell them I’m fine” you laughed, showing your thumbs up so they could see it was nothing serious while Jadon huffed, there wasn't really anything that could take your good mood away.

Already in the nursing room, they wouldn’t let Jadon in, luckily Jesse was there to calm him down.

“She’s fine, you talked with her already”

“I know, I know” he said walking up and down the small corridor with trembling voice. 

After what seemed like an eternity, the nurse came out followed by you with some stitches in your forehead and a bootle of water in your hands.

“Hey” Jadon said not to loud to not bother you with his voice.

“Are you okay, YN?” Jesse asked you and you just nodded while hugging him before moving to your boyfriend, who hugged you even tighter before pressing soft fast kisses on your head, cheeks and finally your lips.

“I’m fine, guys” you laughed watching  how careful they were being with you on the way home “it was good, they gave me a lot of sweets for my sugar levels, I should get injured more often”

“Don’t joke like that, YN! You scared me!” Jadon said before Jesse rapidly corrected him 

“-us” he rapidly added.

“You shouldn’t be worried about me, but about the precious goal I could’ve scored!” You groaned.

“Unbelievable” Jesse mumble laughing at your response.

“I know” Jadon laughed too watching as you were already choosing a picture to post on your instagram to let everyone know you were just fine. “But indeed, it would’ve been a nice goal”

#jadon sancho #jadon sancho imagine #jadon Sancho fan fic #jadon sancho x you #jadon sancho x reader #football imagine #football fanfic #football oneshot #football fandom #manchester united #manchester imagine #england football imagine #england imagine #england nt imagines #england nt

[divineruler]

hii i'm the one who asked abt the requests :)

my idea is if maybe you could write a soft smut with kit walker and a female reader where they are both losing their virginity with each other..

like, they both being so in love and all but also being very flustered and innocent and quite not really knowing what to do, so they are actually discovering each other's bodies and experiencing and learning everything together.

i think it would be something really sweet and it would be really different to see this dynamic, specially with a character so sweet like kit...

Anyway... i would absolutely love it if you could write it down

p.s.: i love your writing! tysm 💓

Hey! Thank you for your request.

I really like that idea, I think that's so cute. My only concern is that I've never really written for a female reader, it's not quite my area of expertise and I wouldn't want to disappoint. But I always like a challenge. I'll add it to my request lists.

It might be a while though, motivation is fleeting lol. BUT THANK YOU FOR REACHING OUT <3<3<3

#divine drabbles

[mrs-march-ahs]

hiii ^^ ahh im not used to sending requests but your fics are just *chef's kiss* and i was wondering if you were okay with writing the evans comforting a fem!reader who has post-surgery scars under her breasts? they used to look rather scary sksbksakhdje i mean, they've healed as best as it could be! but sometimes,, y'know,,, it gets to me

if not it's fine!! all your works always bring me joy 💞 thank you for your time and have a lovely day mrs march 💕💓💝💖

How the Evans Would Act Around Your Scars

i love you nonnie!! thank you very much for your kind words, i didn't know how to have the title not be wordy, but this is written about the scars you mentioned, not too generally <3

i hope you enjoy this very much! thank you so much! i'd love to hear from you if you read this :D you have a lovely day

enjoy :*

Tate -Tate has many scars of his own, so the last thing he’d ever do is make you insecure about any you have -He loves them and is definitely the most up for deep conversations surrounding idealistic beauty standards and the relation between your scars - “Everything is just about looking like you, it’s a part of who you are” - “It’s beautiful because it’s so natural, woman are constantly shamed for who they are but this is something that improved your quality of life, your surgery helped you in one way or another, and the way that you feel bad about that and feel the need to hide it, it sucks” -Once the two of you get more comfortable, he loves running his fingers down the scars

Kit -Kit would definitely understand that your surgery scars may or may not be a sensitive subject -He’d be the most understanding

-Straight after surgery he’d softly and gently ask if you needed anything -If you were upset about them, he would comfort you -He’d reassure you tons -He’d also want you to know he wants to be a part of this side of you -He won’t shy away from issues you have -Because you didn’t shy away from the issues he has -He’d every so softly rub lotion into your scars -And then kiss your cheek

Frat Kyle -Kyle would take such good care of you after surgery -He would be really soft and sweet and absolutely always thinking of you -If he was going out studying he’d make sure you’re tucked into bed with snacks and blankets before leaving -He’d text you to make sure you’re doing well throughout -If you text him even that the blanket fell to the floor he’d be on his way back -With takeout -He’d ask you if they hurt and would be really curious about them -He’d assume that any emotions come from the baggage and pain of a surgery, but he would not be able to connect the dots that you’re upset about the scars unless you outright told him -He’d be devastated, he’d hold you so close and kiss you so so much -He hates you being insecure about anything - “I promise not once did I think about the scars” - “It doesn’t matter to me at all” - “I’m lucky to have you, look at me” -He’d really want to make you laugh -They do say it’s the best medicine

Franken Kyle -Like I said in The Evans When You’re Insecure, Franken Kyle just doesn’t know society’s rules -He doesn’t understand what being insecure is -All he knows is that it’s really fun to run his finger up and down the scar -They feel soft on his lips -He definitely wants to help you rub moisturizer into the scars too -It’s just fun -It looks perfect to him

Jimmy -Jimmy’s the most insecure out of all of the lads, so he’s the most understanding -Ish -He struggles to understand why you’re so insecure about this since you can hide it -He’s so deeply in love with you (and your boobs) that he struggles to comprehend what there is to be insecure about - “They’re so ugly”, you whined - “But you understand that they’re not, right?” -He wants to understand but it’s hard for him -He’d start kissing your boobs on a daily to show appreciation - “Hey babe” (smooch) “Hey boobs” (smooch smooch)

James -Would be obsessed -He’d find them soooo attractive -He’d be obsessed with putting his hands on the scars and holding your boobs -You found it weird at first so you told him that it made you uncomfortable, and he respected you completely - “They compliment your body so well, my darling” - “They’re like symbols of bravery” - “They highlight your breasts, it’s hard to take my eyes off you” - “The contrast of your sensitive… soft… breasts… and the scarification…” (shivers) “It has some sort of affect on me” -When doing the do, he’d definitely take twice as long around your boobs -Kiss every inch of the scar - “Divine”

Pre-Cult Kai -Pre-Cult Kai was so excited to see boobs for the first time -When you took your top off the first time you were getting naked together, he couldn’t take his eyes off you -He’d latch onto your boobs and touch the scars ‘subtly’ -Afterwards he wouldn’t ask, but he’d say something - “The lines under your boobs, they look hot” -You’d be a bit awkward, because you were hoping he wouldn’t notice, and you’d explain they’re scars - “Okay whatever, the scars under your boobs, they look hot”

Kai -Would simply find them badass -Hates you being insecure about anything at all - “It’s skin, Y/N” -Would in a very condescending way mansplain to you why skin scars after a surgery -In his mind that’s a reason to not be insecure about it -Because it’s so natural

Peter -Loves boobs -Loves em -He’s great like Kit at understanding it might be a sensitive subject -He’s very gentle with touching them, even after the scars are completely healed - “You don’t have to be so gentle, Peter” - “I have been blessed with the gift of touching boobies, I will treat them right” -After a while of seeing them on you, he becomes really attached to them -Seeing them just means he’s seeing you naked, they turn him on -If you’re wearing a bikini top and it rides enough to show the scars, he’d literally get hard -He’s so crazy about them - “If you could get rid of the scars, I wouldn’t want you to” - “I mean I totally understand that it’s like totally not my decision and I want you to be happy and not be insecure and feel the most comfortable you can feel in your own body but it’s just the way that I’ve gotten so used to them now and because of that it’s like if they weren’t there anymore it would feel like your boobs aren’t even your boobs anymore, do you know what I mean? Like I would be able to see that they’re your boobs but they wouldn’t like feel like they’re your boobs anymore because your boobs have scars on them” - “yeah”

Mrs March -That’s me -I would love them and cherish them with every inch of my being -I’ve had many many surgeries before and my legs are absolutely covered in surgery scars -I used to be very insecure about them too and grew up as a kid with them thinking that when I grow up I’d have to cover them with tattoos to not be embarrassed but now I’ve placed my tattoos around them -I wouldn’t want to cover them -Like Peter said, I don’t think my legs would feel like my legs if the scars weren’t there -That’s a part of me and what I look and feel like -I would kiss your surgery scars all I could -I understand more than anyone why it’s a source of insecurity at first but I can promise you with full confidence that they’ll grow on you -They don’t need to grow on me though -I already love them -Gimme

@milly-louise @kitwalker02 @tatestripedsweater @therenlover @maria-akira @greenduvet @sallyscigarettes @mossybank @ahsxual @mxlti-fand0m-imaginess @kitwalkerangel @twinkiemaximoff @blackbat2020 @whiiiiplaaaaash @elaineygrace @divinerulerluvr @johndeaconshands @midnightstar-90 @tatesweaterweather @undeadcortez @slightlyvicked @americxn @kaislittleheadliner @imjimmysdarling @quickiesgirl @violate-larmon @cooperdays-gf @unlivingdreams @theytatelangdon

#ahs #american horror story #tate langdon #tate langdon x #tate langdon x reader #kit walker #kit walker x #kit walker x reader #kyle spencer #kyle spencer x #kyle spencer x reader #frankenkyle #jimmy darling #jimmy darling x #jimmy darling x reader #james march #james patrick march #mr march #james march x #james march x reader #kai anderson #kai anderson x #kai anderson x reader #precult kai #precult kai anderson #evan peters character #evan peters characters #fluff #nonnie<3 #<3

[domesticblisss]

Lotta Love

Marcel Barthel x Female OFC Flower Shop AU! Requested Prompts: "Hi! Could you please write something where all of Marcel's usual flirting tactics aren't working at all on his crush and he has no clue what else to try? Thanks in advance! :)" Rating: PG-13 Word Count: 1753 Warnings: Super fluffy. Marcel being a dumdum and not communicating properly. A/N: This was poorly proof read, sorry in advance for any mistakes. Tbh I don't know how I feel about this one, but I hope you guys like it. 💓

Marcel is the last person one would imagine seeing working in a flower shop. Tall, blonde and muscular, perfectly built to be a personal trainer, actually doubled as a cashier and arrangement maker in Walter's shop.

As the days got busier and business bloomed, Walter hired Natalie to help him around.

Marcel was gone as soon as the bell dinged and she sat foot in the store accompanied by his austrian friend that first monday morning. Red, curly hair so big he was sure it was full of secrets, freckle kissed olive skin, and the most beautiful set of honey coloured eyes he had ever seen.

He knew right away why Walter hired her. Bubbly and talkative, Natalie’s personality enchanted everybody. The elderly customers spent hours on deep conversations with her, men and women flirted with her and the children that accompanied their parents loved the candies she kept under the counter for them.

Marcel couldn’t complain, his job got easier as he could focus solely on the arrangements, the customers were even happier and the tips got bigger. A win/win situation.

On her second day, Marcel found Natalie sniffing in the break room, followed by a string of curses leaving the woman’s lips. Gently touching her arm, he asked her what happened.

“Nothing happened,” she chuckled at his worried face. “I’m allergic to flowers, so you know…”

“You’re allergic to flowers and you got yourself a job in a flower shop?” Marcel’s incredulous tone of voice made her break out in laughter.

“I know, I know… but I love flowers, and honestly? I would rather have my allergies flare up every damned day than to stay at my old job.”

“What did you do before?”

“A boring corporate job that paid me good money but took away all my will to leave.” Marcel couldn’t imagine her without the glow Natalie always had in her eyes or the smile that was so easy to get from her.

“Got it. Are the allergies bad enough for me to be worried?”

“Nope! Nothing a couple of pills can’t solve. I should get back to the counter.” she stopped on her way out and kissed his cheek “Thank you for worrying about me.”

His cheeks heated up and instantly got tinged red. Speechless, all he did was nod.

That same day, on his break, he ran to the drugstore and got an extra bottle of her allergy meds to keep on the store’s first aid kit.

It was safe to say he was in love. He always tried to make her laugh, learned everything about the bands she liked so much, to the point of making a playlist to play in the shop.

Fabian, the barista that worked in the café next door, and Marcel’s best friend, was the one to hear his cries.

It was his day off and Marcel sat on the counter as his italian friend prepared what he deemed an overly sweet “insult to coffee” order to the group of teenagers that went to the shop daily.

“I don’t know what to do, dude.” Marcel cried, the hands that held his head muffling his voice.

“Well– EMILY!” Fabian called and the giggly teenager that always ordered her caramel frappuccino with double everything came running.

“Thank you, Fabian!”

“No problem, sweetheart. See you tomorrow.” he smiled at her, and as soon as she left, his stoned expression took over as he turned to Marcel “Well, tell her the truth, tell her you like her.”

“I can’t do it.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know, dude. I just can’t.”

Fabian sighed, “Then show her.”

And Marcel did. In his own way.

Every day he would put a different flower on the sleek glass vase she kept by the computer, hoping she would notice what each flower meant. First, a white camellia, you’re adorable, then an assortment of stocks, you’re beautiful to me (which he regretted 10 minutes into their shift, its strong scent flaring her allergies in no time. A quick “I’m sorry”, a glass of water and her pills later, he changed it to a single peony, the most beautiful). Every single day Marcel would set a different flower waiting for her to pick up what he was trying to say and nothing. Red chrysanthemums were his last shot, a plain and simple, straight up I love you. Still nothing.

He spent that night stuffing his ass with pepperoni pizza and having a pity party on Fabian’s couch, who was quick to tell him, once again, to be forward with her.

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“What if she says no?” Marcel’s voice was so low it almost broke.

“If she says no, you go and move on with your life.”

“Well, I will keep trying to make her notice how much I love her.”

Her chai latte – just a sprinkle of sugar, with extra cinnamon and extra foam – and bagel with cream cheese order waited for her every morning when she arrived, Marcel got her a rare Fleetwood Mac’s Rumors vinyl copy, signed by Stevie Nicks for her three month employment anniversary, and somehow, he convinced Walter to adopt a golden retriever, with the excuse that the store needed a pet to de-stress the shifts, just because Natalie mentioned how much she loved dogs.

Nothing. Zit. Zero. Nada.

Fabian refused to let Marcel fall into his self pity once again, harshly telling him to man up and ask her out already, for fuck sake.

That saturday was a slow one and Marcel spent the day pep-talking himself. 04:30pm, thirty minutes to the end of their shift, he finally had the guts to approach her. It’s now or never.

“Hey, Natalie…” he lost his trail of thought as soon as she greeted him with her bright smile, the dumbstruck look took over his face, entertaining her.

“Marcel?”

Shaking his head, the call of his name got him back to the real world. “Soooo, I wanted to see if you want to grab a bite to eat at that new restaurant that opened down the street?”

“Oh, I would love to, but Adam is picking me up for dinner. We haven’t seen each other in a while, he’s always so busy so I take every chance I get to see him.”

“Ah… okay, some other time maybe? Well, it’s almost closing time, let me go clean my station.”

← Asked her out for dinner. She has a date with some Adam guy.

Marcel texted Fabian, blocking his phone as soon as the message got sent, and got back to setting his station clean.

05:00pm reached soon and the bell that announced whenever a customer got inside the shop dinged. In got Adam Cole, also known as the most obnoxious guy he ever met, also known as the coffee shop owner, Fabian’s boss. “He doesn’t look like her type.” he thought.

Seeing her squeal, run and hug Adam shattered him, making him want to burn a hole in the ground and hide for the rest of his life.

“Marcel this is Adam, Adam this is Marcel.”

“Hey dude. We already know each other, Nat.” Adam mentioned making Marcel seethe when he called her Nat.

“Sup, Adam.”

“Really? Didn’t know that.”

“Yeah, honey. Marcel is friends with Fabian and he’s always at the shop. Now let’s go? I don’t want us to be late.”

“Should’ve figured out you two would have met already. Anyways, see you on monday, Marcel?”

“Of course, Nat.” he smiled at her, waving goodbye.

Marcel made sure they had already left when he locked the door, screaming one long big “fuck” that woke poor Poppy up, the lazy golden retriever.

“Sorry, Pops. Let’s go home.”

Fabian left his own shift straight to Marcel’s place with two beer packs and four pizzas in hand, letting his friend cry his sadness out.

Germany vs Italy was on, both men watching the soccer game in silence. Almost forty minutes later, Marcel finally started talking.

“She has a boyfriend, dude… a fucking boyfriend and she never mentioned it.”

“Should she?”

“What?”

“Should she have mentioned the boyfriend?”

Marcel looked at Fabian like a second head was growing “Well, I’d have mentioned my significant other if I was in a loving relationship. Besides, to top it up, it’s fucking Cole, dude. Of all people, she’s dating Cole.”

“Wait, hold up, hold up.” Fabian interrupted, grabbing the remote control to mute the TV. “You are telling me that her date is Adam, as in my boss Adam?”

“Yeah.”

“You fucking idiot, he’s her brother.”

“What?”

“Yeah, he’s her brother. Same dad, different moms.”

“She did mention she had an older brother.” Marcel said in deep thought.

“You are asking her out again, right?”

“First thing monday morning.”

Monday came and Marcel arrived at the shop an hour earlier than usual. He got her usual at the café, made her a bouquet with her favourite flowers, and even dressed Poppy with her custom made uniform and a pink bow.

“Good morning!” Natalie shouted in her sing-songy voice.

“In the break room.” Marcel shouted back.

“How was your weekend?”

“Good, and yours?”

“Great. Can we talk?” he asked, nervousness seeping through his voice.

“Sure.”

“I like you. I really, really like you. Being honest, I love you. I knew I did as soon as you walked in that monday morning with Walter and I–“

Red curly hair blurred his vision and full, soft lips quickly attached to this in a slow, bold kiss.

Marcel pulled away to catch his breath, not letting her go from his arms.

“Woah.”

“Does this mean I wasn’t seeing too much with the flowers?”

“You did notice the flowers! I knew Fabian was wrong.”

“I did. I just thought I was seeing too much into it. In my head you were just being nice with it and all the gifts.”

“I’m crazy about you, Nat.” Marcel whispered in her soft curls as he hugged her tight.

“So, do you want to go on a date?” Nat asked.

“I’d love to.”

Marcel kissed her just like he always wanted to. Slowly, savouring the feeling of having her in his arms and the way her body molded against his.

“Finally.” Walter’s voice boomed behind them.

“Hey…” The duo said, embarrassed.

“Don’t even try to hide it, I’ve seen the way you two look at each other. Just keep it together in front of the customers.”

“Sure thing, boss!” Natalie and Marcel said in unison.

#wwe imagine #nxt imagine #wwe fanfiction #nxt fanfiction #marcel barthel x ofc #marcel barthel x oc #marcel barthel imagine #marcel barthel #DB writes

[fairiencarnate]

Hi. I started having anxiety and panic attacks last fall. I usually get the attacks at school during class. I’m scared that my teachers and classmates think I’m seeking attention when I have them. Could you give me some advice? :(

Hey lovely 🌼 I began having my first full on proper panic attacks at school too and it was so hard. I'm so sorry you have to go through this.

First of all, as much as I wish this wasn't the case, there are going to be a few people in the world who don't understand. You're going to have to learn to disregard their opinions. They truly don't matter and one day you will look back and realise that. That being said, anxiety in school is a lot more common than you'd think - you likely sit beside people in class who are secretly struggling too.

The best thing you can do is talk to a school counselor about what you're experiencing, and ask them to speak with your teachers. You can request that you make a plan together for when you notice an attack coming on. For example, I had a code word I could use to excuse myself from the classroom and calm myself. If your counselor is a good one, he might have a time-out room for having a nap or just a quiet moment if thats something that helps you.

Another thing I'd recommend is carrying a small "self soothe kit". This is little box or bag full of sensory stimulating items to both snap your mind out of what you're experiencing, and to soothe yourself. For example, mine contains sour lollies, slime/putty, some crystals given to me by loved ones, calming lavender balm, Rescue Remedy (natural anxiety remedy), some pre-written positive reminders, and more. There are tons of resources online with suggestions for self soothe kits if you want more inspiration. They are super helpful for a lot of people.

Most importantly - be kind and patient with yourself. It isn't your fault that you're experiencing this. You aren't losing your mind, you aren't over dramatic, you aren't weak. You are a human being in a very complex and confusing world, and your anxiety has a reason. Anxiety attacks in non-threatening situations are usually because you've experienced something scary in a similar situation, and now your brain is trying to protect you from a perceived threat that isn't actually there. Your anxiety is valid, even if you don't know why yet. You are valid. Please never forget that 💓

#answered #self soothe kit #anxiety #panic attack

[kit-walk3r]

Hi! Please, may I request a fic with the following idea about Kit Walker and a female reader inside the asylum?

It goes like this: both are inmates but not close to each other or anything, then one day they're forced into hydrotherapy together, they both get really embarrassed to get undressed in the same room next to each other but both of them try to be respectful by not looking to the other's body and etc... so, after awkwardly getting stuck in same the room together, they end up making conversation and getting to know each other and so a connection begins?

Thank you

Thank you for the request! Always happy to write more Kit 💓

Hydrotherapy (Kit Walker x fem!reader)

You meet a new friend in the hydrotherapy room.

Warnings: nothing major. Briarcliff guards are arseholes. Mentions of the Bloody Face murders.

The last thing Kit was expecting was to see an almost naked girl standing in the middle of the hydrotherapy room.

The last thing you were expecting was to see the newly incarcerated ‘serial killer’ be dragged in handcuffs into the hydrotherapy room.

The doors opened suddenly with a loud bang, making you jump. You grabbed your tattered dress from the floor and quickly shielded your body from the view of whoever was entering. Coming through the door there were two guards, each dragging in a roughed up Kit Walker, the new inmate who was believed to be the Bloody Face killer. He wasn’t fighting against their grip, even though they were handling him harshly, and just stood still as a statue as one of them unlocked his handcuffs. Then the other pushed him roughly towards one of the bath tubs. You watched the encounter with shocked eyes, never having seen the guards be that harsh before.

“Half an hour,” one of the guards said gruffly, and then they both turned and exited the hydrotherapy room, locking the door behind them.

You still stood frozen, covering your body with the thin fabric of your dress. You didn’t move and instead just watched the new guy with wary eyes, not comfortable enough to strip down in front of him.

It was as if Kit could sense your discomfort.

“It’s okay. I won’t look, I promise,” Kit said, and he covered his eyes with his hand to prove it. “See?”

You watched Kit for a few moments to make sure he wasn’t looking before stripping out of your remaining clothes and lowering yourself into the tub. “Thank you,” you murmured once you were in and fully submerged up to your shoulders.

Kit removed his hand from his eyes and smiled at you. His hands went to the buttons of his shirt and you looked away once you realised what he was doing, giving him the privacy he had just given you. You could hear the soft sound of clothing hitting the floor, and once you heard the splash of the water you figured it was safe to look back. You were right, Kit was also submerged.

The room was silent, only the drip from the tap and occasional splash of water were to be heard. It was just you and Kit in here, and you couldn’t help but feel nervous. You’d heard about what he had apparently done to those women, how he had skinned, butchered and beheaded them. You couldn’t believe that the guards had willingly left him alone in a room with you, someone who was probably his prime target out in the real world. It was lazy and neglectful of them, but then again when did they really show any concern for the patients here? The way they had carelessly dragged Kit in here was enough proof.

“I’m Kit,” Kit introduced. His tone was friendly, warm and nothing like what you would imagine a man who had committed such acts to sound like. But then again, that’s probably how he caught his victims.

You didn’t respond and instead just turned your head away. Kit sighed, but didn’t prompt you any further, not wanting to push you into conversation.

Amidst the silence your nerves dwindled and curiosity grew. Was this man really a killer? He didn’t seem like it. He was respectful and kind, and was honestly treating you better than almost every other person in here, patients and staff alike. You were intrigued by him and wanted to know more.

“Did you really kill those girls?” You asked suddenly. Kit’s head shot up and he immediately shook his head.

“I didn’t kill anyone,” he responded.

“Everyone says you did,” you said. “They say you killed your wife.”

“I did not kill Alma,” Kit denied, the tone of his voice now hard and a scowl now on his face. You simply nodded and looked away.

“What else are they saying about me?” Kit asked quietly, his tough, angry exterior already dissolving.

“Just what the papers say,” you shrugged. “You’re the one they call Bloody Face. That you killed three women, including your wife. Skinned and beheaded them.” you recited what you’d heard from orderlies and other inmates. “Everyone thinks you’re crazy.”

“I’m not crazy,” Kit once again denied. “And I didn’t kill those ladies.”

You just nodded. “Okay.”

Kit watched you curiously. When he was first brought into the hydrotherapy room you seemed so nervous and timid, now you seemed to have some sort of confidence. “You believe me?”

“Got no reason why I shouldn’t,” you shrugged. Where had your nerves gone? You felt perfectly fine in this man’s presence now. “You seem more sane than most the other people in here.”

“That include you?” Kit asked.

You shrugged again. “Perhaps.”

Silence again.

“So why do they think you killed your wife?” You asked curiously. “If you didn’t do it.”

“I didn’t,” Kit insisted. He sighed. “They found a dead body of a woman who sort of fit my wife’s description close to where we lived.”

“‘Sort of’?” You asked, confused.

“She had no head,” Kit explained. “The only real connection was the colour of their skin, but that was enough for them to identify her as Alma.”

“Assholes,” you muttered. Of course the cops wouldn’t put much effort into identifying a black woman.

Kit chuckled humorlessly. “Exactly,” he grimaced. “Alma ain’t even dead.”

Ah. You’d heard whispers about an alien story, this must have been it.

“Oh yeah,” you nodded. “The aliens.”

“They were real,” Kit scowled defensively. “They were real and they took my wife.”

You shrugged. “Sure, I believe you.”

Kit looked at you in confusion. “You do?”

“Yeah, sure,” you nodded. “Honestly? Not the craziest thing I’ve heard someone claim in this place. Some people have said stuff a whole lot madder.”

“Oh,” Kit looked shocked. “Well, okay. Thanks.”

You just smiled.

“Why are you in here anyway?” Kit asked, now his turn to be curious. “You seem pretty sane yourself.”

“It’s a long story,” you shrugged it off, really not wanting to go into the details right now. If only he knew. “Maybe I’ll tell you some other time.”

“How long have you been here?” Kit asked, trying his best to get to know you. You were one of the only people here to treat him like a human being and not have all these judgements about him prior to meeting, he wanted to know you better.

“Around three years, I think,” you answered. “It’s hard to keep track of time here.”

Kit nodded and leaned his head back, resting it on the top of the bathtub. “I’ve been in just a few weeks and it feels like forever. I’d rather be anywhere else.”

“Wouldn’t we all?”

You heard the door unlock and the guards from earlier entered, eyes straight on Kit. “Times up, Bloody Face.”

You could see the way Kit winced at the name they gave him and felt a pang of sympathy. You’d made up your mind that you didn’t think he was guilty and felt for him that the entire world thought differently.

Kit sighed and rose from the bath. As you saw him begin to stand you quickly looked away, giving him some essence of privacy for him to redress, since he wasn’t going to get much from the guards.

As he was redressing you suddenly remembered that you’d not actually introduced yourself properly to Kit. “Y/N,” You said quickly as he buttoned up his shirt. He looked at you confused for a moment. You rolled your eyes. “Y/N. That’s my name.”

Kit smiled, but didn’t get the chance to reply before the guards were slapping handcuffs back on his wrists and escorting him out of the hydrotherapy room.

As you watched Kit be dragged away you realised that you might finally have found a friend in here.

•———•

I hope this was okay for you! It wasn’t necessarily fluffy but I decided to make it more playful than anything. I might actually do a part 2 of them having another bonding session in the hydrotherapy room, this time a little more fluffy. Thank you again for your request 💓

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#american horror story #ahs #kit walker #evan peters #kit walker x reader #kit walker x y/n #kit walker x you #tate langdon #kyle spencer #jimmy darling #james patrick march #kai anderson #ahs fic