#but at the same time. sometimes you have to take this slowly y'know

[softlyspector]

Can we get prompt 5 with Din 👀👀?

“Sometimes I wonder if you even like me…it sure feels like you hate me sometimes.” + Din Djarin

a/n: ta da! my first mandalorian fic thank you for requesting! this one got away from me a little bit.

"Go ahead and toss over the credits and we'll let you go," the twi'lek says, waving a vibroblade under your nose. "You don't need to get hurt, sweetheart."

You scoff. "Right, and then you'll just let me walk away?"

"That's right," his partner says. "Unless you wanna be difficult about it."

You did not want to be difficult about it but -

"Y'know, can't you find some rich asshole to rob? I barely have anything as it it. This is like the poor stealing from the poor." They glance at each other, brows raised.

You consider your options for a moment. Only one of them seemed to have a weapon, and neither seemed to have a blaster.

If you were quick enough, you could probably wrestle the blade from the twi'lek and use it against both of them to negotiate your release from this particular alleyway.

"C'mon now, we know you're buddies with that Mando that's always hovering around these days, and he's covered in beskar. There's no way you're lacking for credits. You probably get a cut of all those bounties."

You furrow your brow, "Are you stupid?"

The Mandalorian was not your friend. He tolerated you at best, considered you an okay contact at worst, when he was looking for work, or information.

Mainly, he sought you out because you heard everyone's business as the barkeep at the cantina.

But apparently your insolence and calm at being robbed has run its course of charm. The twi'lek steps forward, blade to your throat. "Either you hand it over, or we take it from you."

You open your mouth not sure what your retort would be and half expecting it to get you killed, when a voice rings out. "I wouldn't do that, if I were you."

The modulated voice is a balm you don't expect, and both your captors glance over, towards the mouth of the alley. "This doesn't concern you, Mando," the partner spits.

The Mandalorian's helmet simply tilts to the side. "It does."

His tone is hard, brooking no room for disagreement, when you swing your knee up into the twi's gut and twist the blade from his grasp in the same movement.

You slash at the partner, and think you nick his arm. Both flee down the alley away from the Mandalorian, who stands still, hand on the blaster still in its holster.

When they're gone, he approaches you slowly. "Are you okay?" If you didn't know better, you'd say he actually sounds worried.

"Fine," you kneel to stick your new blade in your boot. "I had it handled. Why are you here anyways?" You brush past him, back into the street.

To your surprise, he follows.

The question was meant to be rhetorical. "I saw them follow you when you left the cantina."

"So you followed me."

"Didn't look like you realized."

You shrug and keep walking, "I just guess I didn't realize you cared."

The Mandalorian pauses, stopping in his tracks, and when you turn to look at him, his head is at an angle. Like he's considering you and found you both wanting and strange.

You kick out your hip and tilt your head right back, crossing your arms over your chest.

It takes a long time for him to respond.

"You should be more careful," he says simply. "You need a better weapon."

"I don't have the credits for a better weapon. Lucky for me though I have a blade now." You turn and keep walking. "Don't worry, your contact is unharmed."

His footfalls are heavy as he follows you. "Is that why you think I followed you?"

You aren't sure what he expected you to think, what you're supposed to think. "I mean...I know we work together. But sometimes I wonder if you even like me…it sure feels like you hate me sometimes.”

There've been numerous occasions, particularly in the beginning, when he didn't even speak to you, tossed credits onto the counter and said a single name. Then, he disappeared.

He's progressively gotten less gruff but you still don't get the sense that he likes you all that much, no matter how much time he's been spending on your world and in the cantina lately. He'd even gone so far as to order a drink recently, even though it always went untouched.

You were a means to an end, really. You know that. "I could go to anyone for information," he says gruffly. "But I come to you."

You pause and turn and this time the Mandalorian only stops when he's close to you, and you have to tilt your chin up to meet the gaze hidden behind the visor. "Oh."

"You need more than a blade."

"I'll get right on that," you shake your head, heavy on the sarcasm. He doesn't react, standing still, the cloak over his shoulder fluttering in the warm breeze. You aren't sure why he's never intimidated you, by all accounts he should terrify you. An armored, faceless man, that dealt in bad people and weapons.

But he's never frightened you, he's never really given you cause to.

And you seem to lack the self preservation instinct instilled in most people anyways. Arguing with people trying to mug you was only one example of that.

"Thanks for stepping in back there," you continue, this time without the sarcasm. "Could have been bad."

He merely nods at you.

When you start walking again, he follows, this time keeping pace with you and staying by your side. "You really only come to me?" You ask, glancing sidelong at him. He doesn't answer, but you take the silence for agreement. "Maybe I should get a cut."

Mando huffs under the helmet, and you think it must be a laugh.

He walks you all the way home, even though you know he should already be off world. "'Night, Mando."

Again, he doesn't answer, but he doesn't walk away until the door is closed behind you either.

The next time you see him, he places a wrapped parcel on the counter by way of a greeting. You raise a brow and unwrap it to find a blaster. "Who's is this? You looking for the owner or something?" You ask, tossing the towel in your hand over you shoulder.

"It's yours," he answers. "Do you know how to use one?"

"Mine?" You look up into the shining helm. "You're sure?" The lip of the helmet dips down in confirmation. "No, I don't know how."

"I'll teach you," he says, and you know he's not asking. "Do you still have the vibroblade?"

"Yes."

He nods. "Good," he sounds pleased. "I'll teach you how to use that, too."

With that, he departs, curious eyes of the patrons following him, drawing the attention he always does.

"Well," the owner says, tugging the cloth off your shoulder and placing it back in your hands. "Aren't you special?"

"What are you on about?" You ask, scooping up the blaster and rewrapping it before stuffing it in the front pocket of your apron.

He chuckles, leaning around you as you start polishing a glass. "Haven't you heard the stories? Mandos only give weapons to people they court."

You only roll your eyes, fairly sure that's just another legend.

#din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #mandalorian x reader

[kookslastbutton]

Too Late to Dream ༓ jjk (m)┃ch. V

✑ Summary: You did it. You married your college professor. You even bought a house together. Against all odds, everything had fallen into place. But after two years of marriage, you begin feeling something was missing. You want a baby but your husband can’t say the same.

Pairing: economics professor!jungkook x fem!artist!reader

AU/Genre: angst, smut, fluff, marriage au, age gap, series

Rating: M, 18+

Word Count: 3,342

Warnings: 8-year age gap, mentions of professor-student relationship (oc was a Masters student), jk has milk obsession, oc injured, both lonely :(, mommy issues, lots of family drama/in-laws, fighting, pent-up issues/desires, jk has daddy issues, jk being good hubby to oc

Now Playing: Make It Right, Tryna Be, Infinity, It Will Rain, Heaven+

A/N: I've heard the requests and I think it's time to fulfill them–how did they get together?! Yes, it's here and I'm excited to finally share! Also, yes this took up whole chapter so a tiny break from present-day stuff but we'll be back at it next chapter. 💞

<< ch. IV ༓ ch. Vl >> | series masterlist

Before marrying you, Jungkook had the same routine. He got up, showered, brushed his teeth, put work clothes on, grabbed breakfast, and ran out the door with twenty minutes to spare. Trying to find a parking spot at 7 a.m. at the university was no joke and he had to leave early or some college kid would take the last spot and not think twice.

His night routine was similar. Jungkook finished the day between 5 and 6 pm, slowly regretting he ever agreed to teach evening classes. He’d kick off his shoes, eat dinner, grade some of his student’s papers if needed, brush his teeth again, and went to bed.

It was a constant cycle and with no one around, not even a pet, Jungkook’s life was fairly quiet and systematic. Sometimes his buddies would come over on the weekend for a couple of hours and that surely rocked his world.

But that wouldn’t happen often during the school season due to his ridiculously packed teaching schedule. The most recent person he’d hang around during those months was Taehyung and if he wasn’t free, Jungkook would spend his time at the grocery store–stocking up on milk.

4 years ago

“That was two weeks ago man,” Jungkook says, pushing a cart with five-gallon jugs of milk to his car. He’s on the phone with Taehyung who's reminiscing about the grand opening of the new art exhibit and how “lovely” it was to meet you there.

Jungkook doesn’t need reminding though.

He clearly remembers seeing you there and Taehyung happily making a complete fool of him once he found out who you were. Thankfully you hadn’t seemed to mind too much since you and Taehyung soon moved on to discuss various art theories, masterpieces, and underrepresented artists.

“You didn't have to stay y'know.” If Jungkook didn't know any better he'd think Taehyung was salty. "You could've left at 8 pm like you planned. __ and I would have been fine."

Jungkook winces hearing the man's argument. He did think about going home at 8, but it unsettled him to leave you alone with Taehyung. His colleague was enjoying himself a little too much that night and there’s no telling what he’d do or say when he’s overly comfortable.

Jungkook had to stay until you left.

"Are you kidding me? Leaving you unsupervised would've been the worst idea after all your endless blubbering." Jungkook pops the trunk of his car, stuffing the jugs of milk inside. "God knows what you'd scar __ with."

On the other line, Taehyung smirks through the speaker. "No, that's not it......you weren't going to leave me alone with a woman, an attractive one at that."

Jungkook grabs the last jug of milk, slamming it on the floorboard. "Student, and stop talking about her like that. She's my stu—"

"Say student one more time and I'm going to take all your milk and give it to Yoongi hyung's cats."

"I swear to god, Taehyung, if you touch my milk I'm never going to another art museum or wine tasting with you again." Jungkook is very protective of his dairy products.

"That's okay. I don't need you when __ says she'll be happy to go with me sometime." Smug bastard, Jungkook thinks. There's no way you said that.

"That's bull Taehy—"

"Look she's in her masters and is literally eight years younger than you. It's not that serious so stop acting like she's fresh out of high school. Besides, you said it yourself, she's not a child."

Jungkook grunts, shoving the cart into the others. "She's a young lady who happens to be enrolled in the school. As faculty, we have no business thinking or talking about her outside those terms."

"For fucksake, Kook. You always make things so complicated!" Taehyung's baritone voice cracks through the speaker. "I'm just trying to get you to admit that you're into her some way or another. How many other students have I stayed to talk to and you couldn't give a—"

Just then a loud, high-pitch screech interrupts the call. Jungkook whips his head around immediately. He doesn't spot anything at first but a string of profanities remains audible in the distance.

"Jungkook, are you okay?"

"Yeah, but someones screaming and I can't tell where it's coming from." Jungkook walks around the grocery parking lot, eyes darting left and right. "Oh shit!"

There, near the bus stop, you lay on your side with your right leg stretched out and blood running from your temple. You try getting up but you fall right back down, cursing sharply.

"Taehyung I gotta go, it's __. I don't know what happened but she's laying by the bus stop and I think she needs help!" Jungkook shuts his phone and races to where you lay. He kneels next to you with sheer horror on his face. "__, what happened? What can I do?"

"Damn college boys, Dr. Jeon," you spit, dragging your leg up as far as you can. You reach for your bag which had flung about a foot away when you crashed. "So fucking eager to get off the bus and—oh damn that hurts like a bitch!"

"What hurts?" Jungkook lunges forward to catch your torso from slamming on the hard concrete. "Stay still okay? We need to get you to the hospital."

"I'm all set, but thanks. It'll likely heal in a day."

Jungkook shakes his head and wraps an arm under your back and legs. "Can you put your arms around my neck?"

"Dr. Jeon, I appreciate what you're doing but I don't want to go to the hospital. Please."

You're serious. No trace of bluffing or even simply trying to act tough. You really don't want to go.

"You need to be checked by a doctor sweetheart," Jungkook insists. "Whatever happened has made it so you can't walk. C'mon, my car is nearby and I'll drive you over."

"No, wait!" He feels you push against his chest.

"__. I'm not leaving you without making sure you didn't break a bone or something. I don't want to make things worse but you don't look so hot right now. So please, let me take you." Jungkook lifts you up when you give a barely consenting yes.

"You sprained your ankle pretty bad hun." Dr. Kim Seokjin draws your attention to the X-ray scan. "Second degree." He points to the visual of your partially torn ligament. "There's going to be a lot of swelling so you're gonna need to stay off your foot for at least 4 weeks."

"Do I have to stay here?" is your first question.

"For the first couple of weeks, we strongly advise—yes." Dr. Kim moves on to the next X-ray scan. "You also cracked a rib which will also take about 4 weeks to heal, or more. Of course you're head has suffered a mild concussion as well but it's very mild thankfully." Dr. Kim catches sight of Jungkook next to you, staring at the scans. "You're wife's going to be okay," he says mid-diagnoses.

"We're not—" you start to say but Dr. Kim continues talking.

"Wife, girlfriend, lover, what have you. The point is, much of what we have here will recover with a month of rest, ice, and elevation." He takes a pen from his pocket and starts jotting down something on paper. "I recommend two weeks here for moderation purposes. If things look good, you finish the healing at home. Still, be careful though, no funny business."

The blank looks on both your faces tell Dr. Kim he wasn't clear enough. "Yah, my filters going to die with you two doe-eyed deer. No funny business means no sex!"

"Oh god!" You outburst, mortified by the thought. Jungkook whips his head to your slack-jawed expression. "Dr. Kim, it's not like that between us."

The older man suddenly zeros in on your professor, eyes narrowing slightly. "What's the matter son? Having trouble getting it up?"

Jungkook jolts in his seat, startled by the crass response. "I—no, what? There's nothing wrong with my—"

"We're not together!" You shout before Jungkook's sentence finishes. "We're friends." Saying that your professor brought you here sounded a little odd for some reason, especially when Dr. Kim was already convinced you two were a thing.

"Mhm sure, heard the same thing from my wife before we went off and eloped." Dr. Kim treads to the door. If he has a dime for how many times he's heard that "we're friends" bs he'd be...well, he's already rich so never mind. "Let's move on to something more productive now, like getting __ settled in a room. The sooner she starts the healing process, the sooner she can be good as new again."

"Thank you Dr. Kim," Jungkook says, slowly standing up to stroll you and your wheelchair out of the room. You didn't like it but the nurses insisted you be in one to keep pressure off your muscles.

"Yeah yeah." Dr. Kim waves him off. "Just remember what I said, no funny business. Especially here at the hospital. You don't know how many times I've heard the nurses catching their patients on top of one another at 2 am in the morning. That better not be you two, whoever you are to each other."

"Yes, doctor." You both reply, thankful of the fact that neither of you are in any position to be looking at each other.

"Is there any way I can be here for less than two weeks?" Jungkook watches as you plead with the nurse. It worries him that you're still anxious to avoid medical attention.

"I'm afraid not," the nurse says simply. "If you need anything, press the call button and I'll be in as soon as I can."

Once the nurse leaves, Jungkook pulls up a chair next to your bed. "Stupid question but how are you feeling?"

"I'm in an ankle brace, my rib burns, and my head is still dizzy. I'm trapped in the hospital for two weeks and all because a bunch of nineteen-year-old boys couldn't wait to hit up some frat party," you groan, not bearing in mind your tongue. "I'm sorry for dragging you into this Dr. Jeon."

"You didn't drag me into anything __. I'm glad I was there when this happened and I'm even more glad that you're here, getting help." Jungkook clears his throat before continuing. "Even if it isn't ideal for you."

You ignore the subtle pry for information. "Please, Dr. Jeon. You don't have to stay any longer. It's the weekend and I'm sure you have plans."

Jungkook gives a faint smile. "So, you're saying this is none of my business?"

"No, not—not at all. I mean if you want to stay then I guess you can but I don't want you to feel obligated or anything."

"I want to be here," Jungkook says simply. "But you know that's not what I meant. I'd like to know why it bothers you when anyone tries to help you...if I may."

"Just habit," you mumble quickly, averting eye-contact. It's not your professor's job to bear the weight of your problems.

Jungkook nods in reply, pretending you gave a satisfactory explanation. He wishes you'd tell him but if you didn't want to share more then that was your choice —he wasn't going to force you. "I understand." He grabs his phone from his pocket and rests his elbows on his knees. "Are you hungry?"

"Huh?" You look back at him, his question going right over your head.

"I asked if you're hungry. It's about dinner time so I can get you something if you want. I also have a bunch of milk in my trunk that needs to get to a fridge. But I can place the order now and pick it up in my way back here."

"Milk in your trunk?" Is the only words you repeat, dumbfounded. "Like chocolate milk or...?"

"Nah, Whole Milk." Jungkook grins at your scrunched up face. You try to hide it but not very well. "Don't look so disgusted. Milk is good for you."

"Yeah when you're ten years old."

"On the contrary!" You flinch when his voice rises, along with his eyebrows. "Milk has a lot of health benefits as adults. It has thirteen essential nutrients and helps maintain muscle and bone strength. I drink at least two full glasses a day, if not more."

"I'm sorry but that's nasty." You shudder at the thought of drinking milk in your twenties let alone your thirties. "You really enjoy it? The taste?"

"Yup, always have since a baby! Loved it so much that my mother-" You raise an eyebrow to which he abruptly switches topics. "Anyway, do you want me to pick you up something or no?"

You giggle, a little uncomfortable with whatever he was about to disclose to you.

"That's okay, no thanks."

"You sure? Otherwise I'm gonna be eating in front of you." Jungkook knows how this sounds — he's trying to force you to eat. But the truth is, he just doesn't want to eat by himself tonight. He also doesn't want to leave you alone this early, especially when you obviously detest being here, for whatever reason.

"I'm sure," you say. "But...if you want to come back you can. Not like I have anything to do anyway."

"Good then." Pleased, Jungkook opens up his phone contacts. "Give me you're number in case you change your mind while I'm out."

Over the next couple of weeks, Jungkook continues to stay by your side. He leaves to teach his classes of course and to go home late at night, but he stops by every day—hours at a time.

You keep insisting that he not come so much but he always makes the same excuses. "I just brought food" or "You're on my way home from the university". Sometimes he brings in class notes too.

Due to your current predicament, you're missing a lot of content so Jungkook thinks it best to go over key principles with you and takeaways from his lectures. He says it's his duty as a professor–never minding the fact that many of his other students are in a predicament of their own yet he’s not bothering to do jack for them.

"Look Dr. Jeon, I appreciate what you're doing but you really don't have to. I'll be perfectly alright to catch myself up from the textbook and study guides. You don't have to keep stopping by." You try again but Jungkook keeps his wall just as strong as yours.

"I know I don't have to __. I know that I could leave right now, take all these lecture notes home with me, and not feel guilty about a thing. But I told you I was going to be here and I'm going to keep to that no matter how many times you urge me to leave. I also want you to call me Jungkook outside class but have you allowed for any of those to happen?" Jungkook tosses the folder of notes in his sachel, a loud thump following. "A simple thank you would suffice."

"I am grateful, I really am. But I never asked to be given so much of your time. I feel bad because maybe you're just one of those overly nice people who feel it's their duty to stick around or what not when someone's in trouble. I don't need to be pitied over! Also, you said I could keep calling you the usual, so Dr. Jeon it will remain!" Why you're raising your voice, you don't know but it's happening either way.

"Yeah I did," Jungkook quips, matching your tone. "But after the last, nearly two weeks I think we ought to be on a first-name basis! And I'm in no way pitying you okay? I'm here because I care dammit! I don't want you to be alone and I don't want you to be behind in getting your Masters. So I' try to be be here every day for at least fifteen minutes if not more!"

You don't fully process what he says so you reply to what you remember most. "Why? Why can't I call you Dr. Jeon? It's been that way from the start, twice every week. So why do I need to call you Jungkook all a sudden?!"

"Because it makes me feel younger, you insulted my milk after I first took you to the hospital, we've been eating dinner almost every night since your injury, you told me about your childhood cat named Mr. Muttonbottom, and you just called me by my first name so there are no take backs! Now, if you're done making a fit, do you want bibimbap or jajangmyeon for dinner tonight?!"

What the actual hell? You cease your arguing at once, hearing your professor, or excuse you, Jungkook, all fluffed up. Obviously, you're not the only one high-strung over being stuck in the same routine day in, day out.

"Jajangmyeon...please," you mutter.

"Thank fuck," he swears. Yeah that's new too.

"Sorry for getting mad earlier." You mumble the words as soon as Jungkook returns with the food. "It just feels odd that you've been here all the time...you're my professor."

Jungkook mauls over your choice of words, stiffening ever so slightly. "Well, I'd like to think we're sorta friends now but alright. Does this actually bother you __? I don't mean to make you uncomfortable, you know that." He places the bag of take-out on the small desk near your bed.

"No, it's doesn't bother me." you just don't know how to react or what to say besides a measly thank you. More so, you don't want to make someone feel responsible for you...you should take care of your own shit without bringing others with you. It's not the best mindset, you're aware, but its the one you have.

"Okay good because to be completely transparent, I'm sorta here for me too. I live my myself, eat by myself, talk to myself....I do most things alone so it's nice having someone else to be around." He's not sure where to set his eyes, so he looks downward, fumbling with the napkins in front of him. "I'm making this awkward, sorry."

Feeling the strange need to offer comfort, you stretch a hand over Jungkook's arm. "I get it. It's nice having someone around too."

You and Jungkook hold each other's gaze for a few seconds more, letting the brief silence do the rest of the talking. Maybe you've been looking at this a little too one-sided.

"How are you feeling today? Any better?" Jungkook cracks open the bowl of Jajangmyeon, handing it to you with a pair of chopsticks.

You take the steamy food and gesture to your ankle which has swollen down a good amount. "Still more healing to be done but it's better."

Jungkook hums in approval. "That's comforting to hear. Dr. Kim going to discharge you soon?"

"Yeah, I think so. A few more days and he said I should be able to rest up at home."

"Really?" He chews on his bottom lip. "Well great, uhm , do you have stuff going on when you get back?"

You think a moment, trying to recollect if you made plans with Na-Rae. "Maybe some but not much. I don't have a ton of people around me right now either...down here I mean."

"Well, do you wanna go out to dinner then?" Jungkook pops the question more causal than expected. It's almost like he planned this or at least has been thinking about it for a bit. "We've been eating together for a while now and I think it might be a nice celebratory thing."

"Are you asking me on a date...Jungkook?" Because it defiantly sounds like he is, as indirect as it may be.

His reply is barely audible but you hear it and for the first time, your professor sounds truly timid. "Uh, well...let's go with "hang out", like friends do."

A/N: so yeah, thats how they got together 👀😅 anyone surprised? Thinking about a drabble for thier first date now haha. Anyway, next chapter we get back to present day stuff where more drama goes down. Also, adding a chapter bc this flashback took the whole chapter lol. Lmk your thoughts 💞

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[eddiemunsonw]

Princess

Gator Tillman x fem!reader blurb

Summary: He's there for duty, but then you are there, you know?

CW/Disclaimer: No special warnings needed I believe

Author's note: I think sometimes this loserboy can have a little bit of rizz if he isn't shut down right in the same second. Y'know, the silence can either fuck him over or give him cocky confidence. Which is kind of what's happening here.

Words: 777

A sigh escaped your lips as you dunked the last pieces of glass in the trash. Thankfully, aside from a few broken pieces of glass and a slippery slope of olives spread around the aisle, nothing eventful had happened at the robbery, if you could even call it that. It seemed more like a kid that had been pressured into a dare to steal something and had massively fucked up by tripping over their own feet and knocking off some products. Still, you had to call someone in. Letting these things go unnoticed would only make you an easy target. Which is why you weren’t surprised when the Sheriff had sent his son your way.

Gator Tillman came to a screeching halt in front of the shop, music blazing through the speakers. You rolled your eyes and folded up your dishrag as you walked to the back to wash your hands. Behind you, the bell to signal someone entering the shop clanged. You took your time to get to the front, already hearing several “hellos”, patience dropping with each new one.

“Yes, yes, I’m here,” you mumbled, holding back a sigh. Gator frowned and already opened his mouth to retort something towards the rude greeting he received until his eyes landed on you.

“That’s no way to talk to— Oh… well would you look at that,” he smirked and moved closer to the counter you stood behind. “If I’d known this place was run by a pretty bird like you, I would’ve stepped in long ago.”

“Well… What do you need, Tillman? The kid’s probably still a minor, I don’t know if the security footage is—”

“Hush, darlin’, there’s no rush on the matter at hand. Rather… I’d like to hold yours for a moment, may I?”

He held out his hand, palm upwards for you to lay your hand in it. You frowned at this weird request of him wanting to shake your hand. Maybe to introduce himself formally, which made no sense considering everyone knew Roy Tillman, which meant everyone also knew his son. However, when you extended your right hand, he tutted.

“I understand the confusion but I wanted to see somethin’...”

He beckoned for your left hand and in your confusion you held it out for him wordlessly. A soft smile introduced itself on his face as he took hold of your hand, thumb dragging over your knuckles. You vaguely noticed his hand was warm and his calloused thumb didn’t feel all that unpleasant.

“Ah… look here,” he mumbled, more to himself than to you it seemed. He looked up, his thumb still circling a repeating pattern over your knuckles as he spoke.

“No man claimed you just yet? Any suitors?”

A dry chuckle left your throat. First of all, no one could claim you. You decided to humor him a little though.

“No one’s stupid enough to try,” you said with a shrug. It was up to him however he took that bit of information. He hummed lowly, eyes flicking back to your hand again, slowly following the path towards your wrist, up your arm… slowstop at your chest, back to your face.

“We’ll see about that, sweetheart. No boyfriend? Man with a plan?”

“None of the sort, no.”

His thumb came to a stop at your ring finger, tapping it without removing his gaze from yours this time. It was your own gaze that shifted as his thumb rubbed the spot with meaning.

“I’m telling you now, I’ll be putting a ring on that finger of yours, darlin’.”

Another chuckle, one of disbelief, escaped your throat.

“I’d like to see you try.”

He smiled and finally let go of your hand to take his vape out of his pocket. You watched as he brought it closely to his lips, halting right before.

“For you, Princess,” he stated before taking a slow drag of his vape, eyes never leaving you, “anytime.”

Only now you realized that your heart rate had picked up just a notch and you weren’t sure whether you wanted to curse him or yourself for it. He leaned forward to say something else just as his radio went off. He snapped his lips shut and listened to the static voice coming in.

“Duty calls. I’ll see you around,” Gator said as he swiftly turned on his heel.

Just as you thought he was going to leave, he suddenly cocked his head back.

“You got beef jerky and Dew?”

“Sure do.”

“Good.”

And with that, he left with what felt like the promise of a marriage involving a whole ton of beef jerky and Mountain Dew. What a Tuesday.

#gator tillman #gator tillman x reader #gator tillman x you #gator tillman x y/n #gator tillman x fem!reader #joe keery

[lineffability]

London, Soho, AZ Fell’s Bookshop, 1941

“That’s the trouble with you lot, you tend to see things in black and white. Sometimes, you just gotta blur the edges.”

“Well, maybe there is something to be said for… shades of gray?”

Their glasses clinked.

“Well, shades of dark gray,” Crowley corrected, and the ease crept back into their conversation along with the little correction, leaving the emotional vulnerability under the table, where the photograph rested on Aziraphale's thigh.

“Shades of a very light gray, I rather fancy.” Aziraphale smiled into his glass, preparing for their disagreement to turn into a full-blown silly discussion on color theory. Which it did. 

While their aesthetic discrepancies about various shades of gray were being discussed at length and in oral treatises, the angel and the demon were very much on the same page when it came to wine, and the drinking of it. They had not over-indulged, not tonight, but were emptying the bottle between them slowly and comfortably, having settled into a conversation of the same kind. The virtues of mixing colors, all that. It came to them easily, the debating, each fending for the role they had been assigned. 

“Of course, take too many colors and you just end up with a sort of brown-gray sludge,” Crowley said now, and made a face. “Bit like the walls of hell.”

This was the wrong term to drop so carelessly, on a night such as this, and the lapis-lazuli dreams of Aziraphale’s mind were washed right down the drain, where they traveled until they turned into a sort of brown-gray sludge and dripped onto the road to hell, which matched the walls in color. Hell, where Crowley had almost ended up tonight, and not to pay a friendly visit with a report card.

“Crowley, what would have… If they’d taken the photograph, what would have happened to you?”

Aziraphale had turned the page and stumbled upon a new chapter of their conversation, pricking himself on the safety pin that kept the messy draft of the novel of Them all in one tidy place. This was uncharted territory, both of their relationship and of his heart. Aziraphale really, really terribly loved a good story with a happy ending. Shame if it were to be cut short, finished before its time. But where was it headed? The proof was in the pudding. (A good kind of sludge, with a more pleasant color.) There were no instructions, not on the pudding box and not in the first and second and hundredth drafts of their millions of stories. Aziraphale was scared, he realized, of the open-endedness. 

He looked nervously at Crowley, for a moment, before his eyes flitted away. 

“Eehhhh,” Crowley said. “Eh. Dunno. Y'know. Bad stuff. Good at that , they are.”

Crowley wouldn’t answer him, Aziraphale realized. At least not properly. The demon began blubbering away now, about the creativity of hell, trying to work his way back to the topic of colors along the sludgy walls of hell and likely succeeding, but Aziraphale wasn’t really listening anymore.

Aziraphale didn’t say he was scared. He even tried not to show it. He’d shown too much, already, tonight. And look where it had gotten them, all this emotion. They were safe now, yes, but Crowley had risked too much for him today – and too many other days and nights, as well. It was all his fault. And he kept doing it, too, purposely even, sometimes (though not tonight) and it was so terribly selfish of him. 

Crowley’s safety was more important to him than anything else. 

And he was its biggest threat. 

They couldn’t keep doing this. Not after tonight. Not after Crowley had tread on hallowed ground for his sake; after Crowley had held a gun to his face, shaking, pleading no; after Crowley had almost gotten dragged down to hell for trusting an angel. Not after Aziraphale had realized that he– how much Crowley meant to him, and how much losing him would tear a hole into the very fabric of his being. Not the loss of his corporation – though that was its own kind of terror and a cause of many past nightmares – but the loss of him, Crowley, his very being. No more Crowley ever again, not in this body or any next. The thought had been so terrifying he'd rejected it immediately, and shut it away, but it was back now, a monster not constrained by drawers or cages of the mind. He'd realized there was no Aziraphale without Crowley, not really. And he couldn’t imagine it. But to keep him safe, to truly keep him safe–

“It’s getting awfully late. Maybe you should leave, now.”

–he needed to stay away. 

“Eh?” 

“I said it’s late, and I’m ti– tired… and– you should probably leave. We’ve spent– too much time together, today, have we not?” He tried to laugh, nervously, and Crowley furrowed his brows. 

He got up anyway, abruptly and a little stiffly. “If that’s what you want, angel.”

It’s not what I want at all. “Yes.”

Aziraphale got up, as well, pushing his chair into the table and following Crowley to the door. The demon was walking briskly, but stopped short before reaching the exit. Aziraphale came up to his side, looking torn, and lifted a hand as if to hold him. He, too, stopped short before making contact. Let it drop.  

“Angel,” Crowley started, but obviously didn’t know where to go with the words. What’s going on? The sudden change had thrown him off, and yet he was beginning to realize, slowly, what might have caused it. The worry in Aziraphale’s eyes was telling. 

“I can’t have you risking your life for me,” Aziraphale said now, very quietly. 

Crowley exhaled through his nostrils. We’ve both been risking our lives for each other for a very long time , he wanted to say. Wonder why that is? He said nothing. He didn’t want to think about the answer to that question, either. 

Aziraphale looked at him, and there was something in that look, in that god-unforsaken gaze , that tore at Crowley’s insides, and he leaned forward: just a bit. And Aziraphale didn’t draw back. They stayed like that for a moment entirely too long for it to mean anything but one thing, but neither closed what little distance remained between them. 

It was Crowley who turned away. 

“Good night, angel,” he murmured, and Aziraphale only registered the sound of the little door bell as the Bentley was already roaring to life.

He stood there, alone, for several more moments, grappling with what had not happened, before he returned to the back room, where the photograph lay on the table, mocking him and his silly little human feelings. He didn’t want to look at it. 

He should destroy it. Wasn’t that the right thing? The only thing? But Crowley’s absence hurt (already, already it hurt) and... what if he followed through and kept him at an arm’s length? What if nights like these were no longer possible? At least not until things had cooled down, one way or another. A few decades, maybe. 

But he couldn't do it. Couldn’t bear it. 

He pocketed the picture, carefully, in his waist coat. He suddenly felt like crying. Instead, he wandered into the shop, sat down at his desk, and opened a book. Paradise Lost. How wonderfully ironic. 

He kept reading until dusk, and longer still, and when the little bell chimed again, announcing a brave and forlorn customer, Aziraphale slid the photograph between the pages, and closed the book, and got up with a smile. 

#good omens #ineffable husbands #good omens fanfiction #my tiny take on 1941 #(this is part of the new chapter of Meanwhile but posting it as a standalone too) #my writing #inefficable

[lotomber]

Hi! Just looked through your stuff and it's amazing! I really love you choice of profile design aswell. I come with a request, you can ofcourse just ignore it you don't feel like it.

The request is Yandere Fyodor x reader, who he has been stalking, and slowly been befriending for awhile, but reader has trust issues and it takes a long time before he can actually start giving romantic hints. So ofcourse Fyodor who, in this scenario, has urges and is getting impatient. So he drugs them and kidnaps them :). I was thinking smut where he places reader's hand on where he wants them to touch him, but go with whatever you want or not at all. Hope you have a great day/night

YOUR LOVE MADE ME CRAZY!

Pairing: Yandere! Fyodor x GN! Reader Warning: NSFW, smut, yandere behavior, stalking, drugging, Noncon/dubcon, not proof read!

You frequently visited the cafe near your place after college/work. you didn't had many friends, you preferred to read books at your fav cafe. One day when you were reading a book a man approached you.

"Is that (any of your fav book) you're reading?" he had a pale face with beautiful magenta eyes and shoulder length messy black hair with a ushanka, He was absolutely beautiful.

"Uh yes. Is there any problem?" you answered despite his sudden intrusion.

"I couldn't help but notice the book you were reading and it's my favorite. Oh pardon my rudeness I'm Fyodor Dostoevsky, Do you come here regularly?"

"I'm (Name), yes the ambience and coffee is nice here so I do come here often. Are you a Russian?" you couldn't help but be curious about the mysterious man.

"Yes I'm a Russian I moved here due to some work so I still don't know many people here would you mind if I sit with you?"

"Ah no, you can sit here if you want to." at first you felt awkward and hesitant with him but despite your worries you both hit really well and instantly became friends. You both started meeting often at the same cafe, Your hobbies, favorite books and ideologies matched with each other.

But what you didn't knew was the fact that he already knew everything about you, your every single personal information from when and where you go to your likes and dislikes, He was always lurking in your shadows and finding the right time he approached you with an innocent face at that cafe he knew you frequented.

But despite his efforts whenever he made any romantic gestures you always backed out, rejected his advances and always drew a line. he was getting impatient of this and he couldn't control his urges anymore so he thought of another way.

As usual he was waiting for you at the cafe and when you came he offered to buy you a coffee which you accepted. He sometimes buyed you coffee which you didn't minded but today was something rather off about him which you wished you could've noticed earlier.

Just after taking a few sips of the coffee you started feeling weird, your mind went foggy and you felt a hot burning sensation all over your body soon you fell unconscious and the last thing you saw was the unsettling smile of Fyodor.

When the first time he saw you, he instantly fell in love with you. That's why first he used the indirect way to approach you. Everytime you talked to him he would stare at your lips thinking how they would feel on his lips as his tongue mingle with yours or how your pretty little hands will look pumping his cock. No one could ever comprehend what filth he thought behind that innocent face. But whose fault it was that he was like this? Of course yours, after all his love for you made him like this so he's gonna make sure that you'll take responsibility!

After a while you opened your eyes in an unfamiliar place and he was there in front watching you with that same smile. You wanted to say something but your mind was still in a haze and you felt that burning sensation more prominently than before that it was almost hurting.

"Hmm what happened darling, not feeling good?" he said in mocking tone.

"Y'know darling it's not even half of what I felt whenever I saw you but don't worry I'll help you I'll make you feel good cause I love you!" he leaned over you whispering in your ear as he started kissing your neck. While he held your hand making you touch his already hard throbbing cock.

"Can you feel it darling? can you feel it me? it's all because of you!" he said in a low seductive tone as he proceeded to kiss you, pushing his tongue in your wet cavern.

You wanted to protest and stop him but you don't know if it was because of your hazy state of mind or something else, it felt good. His touch felt ethereal, he tore your clothes as he was getting too impatient to undress you slowly. He covered two of his fingers in spit before plunging them in your hole. You let out a yelp as you felt his fingers stretching you for a while. After that without warning he pushed his whole length in your hole. You shrieked in pain as he starting thrusting without giving you time to adjust.

"F-fuck you feel so good, darling!" he let out loud grunts as he kept thrusting.

It was wrong, yes it was really wrong but what could you do when it all felt so good?

A/N- I don't support any of the themes mentioned above in real life!

P.S - Sorry this took time cause I was busy with my exams. I still have some requests pending I'm gonna complete them soon so please wait!

#bungou stray dogs #bsd #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs #bsd x you #bsd fyodor #fyodor dostoevsky #fyodor x reader #fyodor dostoyevsky bsd #bungou stray dogs fyodor #fyodor smut #bsd smut

[ghostytoad]

Omg I loved the raph req you just did!! Could I req basically the same thing but with a reader that’s similar to Leo instead? Thanks a ton<3

jfksdjhgklsh i've had to break this into multiple parts bc they turned out a little long, but hopefully they're just as good TwT

* Fun n' Games *

ROTTMNT Boys x GN! Leo-esque reader who enjoys drama, making jokes, and being overall awesome

Summary: The Hamato brothers unexpectedly fall for the smug, but genuine, fun-loving reader despite their egocentric habits

Headcanons for: Raphael

GN! Reader; Romantic; Fluff || Words: 1.3k

Donnie | Leo | Mikey | Bonus!!

Raph:

oh god, he's gotten his fill of worry-fueled headaches dealing with his little brother's shenanigans; why, WHY great pizza supreme in the sky did there have to be another one??

y/n's reckless antics has him worrying himself into an early grave, especially when they're so keen on proving themselves to everyone with dangerous stunts and high-action battles

it's not that he doesn't enjoy the odd adventure or two with them, but y/n's a HUMAN and he's a WAR MACHINE. he has to be extra cautious around them!

he's taken it upon himself to keep an eye on y/n at (almost) all times bc of their more impulsive actions; he is the oldest and biggest hamato after all, so who better to protect y/n?

if they're out and about with leo or mikey, he will DEFINITELY be there to intervene bc he knows those two are just askin' for trouble; he's their only braincell and they're NOT leaving him behind

it's through his constant surveillance (with some help from donnie), that he slowly starts to realize his feelings for them runs deeper than just wanting to keep them safe

god forbid y/n tries to hide their latest blunder or misadventure, raph will have an absolute FIT (nothing physical obviously, he'll probably get all pouty and insecure)

"look, i know i might not look it but inside, raph is just as scared as anyone else that the people i love could get hurt. i'm not mad, i'm just… tryna look out for you, y'know?"

mikey likes to tease raph for "babying y/n", which says a lot when it comes from the literal baby of the family; kinda forces raph to rethink his overbearing behavior

once he realizes just how overbearing and borderline scary he's being, he will do his best to back off and cut back on all the 'stalking' and 'babying'

will genuinely laugh at y/n's jokes, no matter how bad they are; even if leo literally made the same exact joke 10 minutes ago, raph can't help but double over wheezing with laughter when they say it

he finds y/n's delivery a lot better than leo's; genuinely thinks they are the funniest person alive

he will sometimes join in on y/n's teasing whenever it's directed at his brothers or at an enemy while they're fighting; if he manages to make y/n laugh at one of his jokes, he'll be over the moon with joy

has the habit of accidentally referring to y/n as 'leo' when he's scolding them or going into a long rant about staying safe or something; it's not that he sees y/n as a "human leo", he's just used to getting onto the red slider turtle for the same exact shenanigans so it's like an auto-response

immediately catches himself the moment he does misname them and profusely apologizes through his flustering tears; forgets what he was even mad about every time it happens

for a while, raph considered getting y/n a guard dog or something to watch over them but would they even want a dog? what if they're allergic or they have a terrible fear of dogs or something!

on top of that, despite claiming to be "good with animals", he basically scares off any small animal that comes within 10 ft of his towering stature

but aha, an idea! what if instead of a pet, he gave y/n something special of his? something he can trust to take care of them

as long as y/n PROMISES to keep it safe and clean, raph will gift them one of his special teddy bears to watch over them when he's not around

won't admit it, but he finds y/n's big ego and constant bragging to be incredibly endearing and will add to it whenever he can

like yeah, what isn't to like? they're cool, funny, they know where all the action's at, they have the prettiest eyes; it's no wonder y/n is as confident as they are - to be honest, raph's not sure why EVERYONE doesn't feel the same way about y/n

likes to use his special raph-exclusive catchphrase 'like a boss' to describe everything y/n does (a high honor in his culture)

"did you guys catch how y/n totally shut those clowns down like a boss?? i betcha they could take you three down no sweat!"

gaming buddies!! it's one of his favorite pasttimes and what better way to channel y/n's competitive energy than with some good ol' beat 'em ups

1v1 video game marathons are GUARANTEED to last days for the two of them; they've both managed to lose major sleep bc of how invested they get into the competition

but sleep deprivation has a habit of making fools of us all, even headstrong turtle mutants. and y/n just happens to be the subject of raph's sleepy rambles

"I swear, I can't feel my eyes…" Y/N's croaky, tired voice muttered as they fought sleep against the now-deflated beanbag, the dim glow of the television screen highlighting the dark circles of exhaustion, "How long have we been playing?"

Slumped over next to Y/N was the large turtle, struggling to muster a coherent sentence as total nonsense tumbled from his lips. As he lay facedown across his own plush beanbag, controller lazily dangling from his large hand, he continued to mutter unintelligably.

"Alright, big guy, let's get you to bed." Y/N groaned as they sat up to stretch. They couldn't help but smile as they watched Raph's sleepy form slump further forward in protest, his knuckles brushing against the floor from how far he'd shifted. He was stubborn to be sure, and all of this just to win a single round. It's not like Y/N didn't warn him ahead of time just how epic their combat gaming skills were! He really should've heeded their warning, it would've saved him hours of humiliating losses and subsequent insomnia.

"L'go one more roun'…" Raph finally managed to grumble, his voice tapering off as the drowsiness overcame him once again. He refused to let the night end until he'd bested his opponent at least once.

"Nuh uh, we're getting you to bed and that's final." the amusement in Y/N's tone stirred the mutant back awake.

"Fine, but I'll getcha next time." Raph finally relented with a sluggish grin and heavy-lidded eyes. With a grunt, he pushed himself up off the sack and was sent stumbling into Y/N's awaiting arms. They struggled to keep a grip on his large form, nearly losing their balance once his full weight shifted onto them. In an impressive show of determination, Y/N had managed to carry Raph into his room, opting to (not so gracefully) toss the massive turtle back onto his bed. Raphael didn't anticipate such a toss and with a hand still tightly gripped onto Y/N's waist, he managed to yank the human down with a light thud against his chest. If it had been anyone else, Raph would've been embarrassed enough, but this particular situation was one he'd keep himself awake at night thinking about. And yet here Y/N was, eyes wide with surprise and body held snug against his, completely unaware of Raph's affection for them. Would they leave? Would they scold him for being too clumsy? Did they think he was a creep?

"Uh… s-sorry. Did I hurt ya?" he managed to stutter, his expression flustered and suddenly alert. Despite the internal conflict, his hand held firm on their waist as if it was urging them to stay.

"No, no, I'm fine. We can chalk this up to you being a sore loser though~" Y/N teased with a light smirk, the dark blush that dusted across their face very evident, only rivaled by the even darker shade that burned at Raph's.

A soft silence fell over the both of them as they timidly avoided each other's gazes, neither willing to yield.

"Um… Good night, Raph-a-doodle. Love ya…" Y/N hummed, nuzzling deeper into his chest while they tried to settle into their new sleeping position. Raph couldn't stop the sigh of relief that escaped him, but the way Y/N looked so peaceful and snug on top of him brought him back into the quiet lull of slumber. They were actually going to stay. Did that mean that they…?

He'd leave that question for another night.

#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #tmnt #raphael #rottmnt x reader #rottmnt x you #rottmnt x oc #rottmnt raph #raph x reader #raph x oc #x reader #tmnt x reader #tmnt headcanons #teenage mutant ninja turtles #toady talks #toad talks #toady writes

[lovelybrooke]

Time for School. (Platonic Yandere Joel and Ellie x reader)

I thought it would be cool to write a scenario about reader trying to convince Joel and Ellie to let you go to school. I also want to thank you guys for all the love and support I've got on my writings, especially after I got shadowbanned, I really appreciate it. Anyway, please like and reblog if you enjoy.

"I wan't to go to school." The conversation started one morning before Joel was to go on patrol with his brother. Ever since Joel and Ellie returned from their time at the hospital, you've been on a tighter leash. Joel didn't let you go with them, saying it was too dangerous for you and while Ellie was a bit apprehensive, she agreed, resulting you in staying with Tommy and his wife Maria.

While with them, you had the most freedom you've ever had. You actually had responsibilities, taking care of the animals, helping out during meals, and sometimes if you were lucky, getting to go hunt with one of them. It was a great change of paise that you very much needed. You didn't have to fight when you wanted to go do something by yourself, so you got to make a lot of new friends, mainly being the children that the school.

At first, the kids were very scared of you. Your sister was always somewhere near you, so they were always too afraid to talk to you. When Ellie left with Joel, she made you promise you wouldn't make any new friends. You assumed it was a joke and agreed. So, when a girl around your age asked if you would like to play with her, you didn't think twice before agreeing. Eventually, you were at the school nearly every day, making new friends and finally having a chance to be yourself.

It was great, being able to do what you wanted, when you wanted, and you almost forgot about Joel and Ellie. That was until the came back. It was Maria who told you of their return, interrupting you time with your friends. At the news, you ran to the main gate, watching as the walk in. They both seemed...changed. Joel always looked so grim, but Ellie seemed different, even as you gazed at her from far away. Once she saw you, she instantly ran over to give you a big hug, gripping you so hard that you could barely breath. You tried to hug her back, but your arms could barely move. You could tell that she was crying due to the shaking her body was doing and the wetness on your shoulder.

She only released you when Joel came up, putting an arm on her shoulder, causing her to let you go, albeit slowly. Joel looked at you and brought you into a tight hug, mimicking Ellie. The hug seemed to last forever, before he finally let go, grabbing you hand, and leading you home. While walking, you looked gazed longingly towards the school, letting out a deep sigh.

Thats where today's conversation comes in. You missed you friends, and you couldn't talk about it because you were afraid of what would happen if Ellie found out you broke her promise. Even though, you still wanted to see them again. You thought a happy medium would be going to school, since it's not that far from home, and you could even go with Ellie, that is if she wanted. However, you were sorely mistaken.

"No." Joel responded, handing you your breakfast. Before you could say a word, Ellie was spitting out her eggs in disbelief.

"Why would you want to go to school." She asked while wiping the food from her face. "It's, like...super boring." You shook your head, not looking up from your food.

"I just...I think it be good for me." You look at Ellie, who was already looking right at you, same with Joel. "I need to...y'know, socialize."

It was very quiet, and you were very anxious about what either of them will say. You didn't want to say any more, because you knew Joel would get upset if you said something wrong. After a long period of silence, Joel finally spoke up.

"No. You're not going. End of discussion." He said while sitting down across from you at the table. "Now eat your food."

After that you didn't bring up the idea of school to Joel again. However, you did talk to Tommy and Maria about it if you could. When Joel heard that Tommy was, heaven forbid, giving you chores and responsibilities, he quickly had a word with him, and you were back to spending every second at home, so you didn't see Tommy or Maria that often. When you did, usually when one of them was visiting while Joel and Ellie were away, you would plead with them to talk to Joel about school. They promised they would, but nothing ever came of it. You assumed that Joel still disagreed, and when Tommy and Maria stopped showing up when you were home alone, your assumptions were proven right.

Your days alone were starting to weigh down on you. You felt trapped, alone, even worse than when you first arrived at Wyoming. Before their time at the hospital, you didn't all that restricted, you could at least leave when you wanted. But now, leaving without Joel's permission would get you locked up in your room. You didn't mind that punishment all that much, since you were only really alone when you were in your room.

That's where you were tonight, sitting on your bed, gazing out at the window. It was dark, but you could still see the people walking around and working. Moments like this was when you would fantasize about escaping, leaving this commune and the finally be free. You knew it would never be, because Joel and Ellie would always find you.

Your small moment of silence was interrupted by a knock on your door. It squeaked as it opened, Joel appearing from dark hallway. You didn't look at him, but you knew it was him due to how quiet he was. You chose to focus on the movement outside, feeling the bed dip as Joel sat near you.

"Y'know, Ellie's real upset that you've been ignoring her." He said, getting a bewildered look from you.

"I haven't been ignoring her." You responded; voice small. It wasn't completely true, you just haven't had the time to talk to her, since she actually gets to leave the house and has things to do. When she does get home though, you pretend as though she isn't there, which you guessed annoyed her.

Joel shook his head, "Look kid." He said, waiting for you to look at him. "I know life's good here, but we can't take the risk." What risk? It's a school, what would happen? "People here, they're not a fan of us." That was true, but that wasn't your fault.

You remained silent, Joel sighing while rubbing his eyes, "Look, if you want, I can teach ya." He offered. "I know I'm not here often, but I can manage."

"That's not the point Joel." He didn't like it when you called him Joel, it was only dad to him. "I made friends when you and Ellie were away. I want to see them." You voiced gained volume, but you were afraid of gaining Ellie's attention. Joel's brow furrowed, clearly confused.

"What do you mean 'friends'?" The words were harsher, also getting louder. "I thought I told you to stay away from the kids."

"You were gone for months Joel, what did you expect?"

"I expected you to listen to what I say." He yelled in response. You were fuming.

"You never let me do anything, why would I listen to you?" You were waving your hands around, gazing at him with a perplexed expression.

"Because I'm your father!" You were sure Ellie would hear, but you didn't care.

"No, you're not!" Your breath was ragged. "You're not my dad, Ellie's not my sister." Your voice became quiet as Joel's look became dark. Slowly, you began to ease back onto the bed, having gotten up as the conversation became more tense. You looked back out the window, watching as parents walk with their children. "A dad wouldn't do this to me."

It was cold and quiet. The bed shifted as Joel stood up, but he didn't leave the room, just paced around. His arms were crossed, and he was breathing heavily. After what felt like a lifetime, Joel stomped towards you. As you gaze slowly went to focus on his face, you took in how upset he was. His fists were clenched, and his gaze was burning into you, almost like it would make a mark.

The words that came out of his mouth once your eyes were locked were cold. "You're never going to say that again." The statement was vailed with a sense of calm, "I am your father." You didn't say anything as he slowly crouched down to your level. Now, eye level with you, he continued. "Say it." He demanded; eyes dark.

"You're my father." You murmured.

"Again. Louder."

"You're my father." You said loud enough for him to hear. He answered with a nod. He stood up and walked towards the door. As it squeaked open, he called out to you. Looking up at him, you noticed that Ellie was right outside in the hallway, but you didn't focus on her, just Joel.

"Don't talk to those kids again, your grounded." The door slammed shut, and you were alone once again.

#yandere x reader #platonic yandere #soft yandere #yandere joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x platonic!reader #platonic joel miller #yandere ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams #joel miller #yandere the last of us #the last of us x reader #fanfiction #fanfic #yandere fanfiction

[justlikemebutsixfootthree]

direction -

pairing:  matty healy x f!reader

content: fingering, unprotected sex, matty can't shut the fuck up™, overstim

wordcount: 3743

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a/n: the people have spoken

your motto has always been "fake it till you make it". what started as something you'd say to yourself to get over anxieties slowly bled into other areas of your life, relationships included.

fake confidence until you have it. fake experience until you get some.

easy, right?

well, over time, you've become a pro faker. people rarely approach you cause they think you're arrogant.

and that suits you. who has time for superficial relationships anyways?

but then you met matty, who's gentle, kind, funny, smart. he never gave up on you, even if you sometimes came off as stand-offish, even if you acted like you were too good for him and men in general, even if you fought him every step of the way, surprised by his determination.

in the beginning, you played along. you let him try to woo you, let him compliment you and take you out. you responded to all of his texts, even if you are both too old to be texting like high schoolers. slowly but surely, he made you drop the façade, at least around him, which is when your relationship became more than just teasing glances and flirty texts.

everything led up to where you are now: in matty's stupidly comfortable bed, wearing his stupidly warm sweater, kissing his stupidly pretty face.

the movie he had put on was some cheesy horror flick: lots of fake blood, shitty special effects, and a naive main character. it's long forgotten though, mediocre soundtrack serving as background noise to a much more exciting activity.

you've always prided yourself on how strong you were, not being easily swayed by your sexual urges. fake it until you make it - but what then?

what if matty expects you to rock his world tonight? what if he thinks you'll take the lead, with the same (fake) confidence you do everything else? 

technically, you know how it should all work, but you have no first-hand experience. your sexual endeavours end pretty fast, either with you giving up on the guy or them thinking you're too demanding for someone who isn't putting out. either way, it’s good riddance, and you’ve never had regrets about not having sex before. 

once, during your intense college years, you had to present your research in front of all your peers. the stress caused you to lose sleep, and you replaced eating with frantic rewriting. by the time the due date rolled around, your brain was scrambled, and you were positive you were going to puke all over the front row of desks.

now, underneath the warm weight of your boyfriend, you’re feeling exactly the same way. what if you manage to do something so revoltingly off-putting he can never look at you again?

"hey."

matty's soft voice shocks you out of your quickly spiralling head. he's looking down at you with gentle, but confused, eyes.

"you've gone all stiff on me, love. you feelin' okay?"

you should've known he'd see through your wall of false confidence.

"y'know we don't have to do anything, right? you look like you're about to cry."

you refuse to dignify that with a response as heat floods your face and, mortifyingly, prickles in your sinuses. he sighs, rolling off of you and laying on his side, facing you.

“that was meant to make you laugh.”

you try to smile at him and feel your lips wobble instead.

“hey. i'm being serious, what’s going on in there?” he brings his hand up, stroking his fingers through your hair.

“i don’t want to repulse you,” you whisper.

he frowns. "you've got a horrific confidence problem. there is nothing, and i mean nothing, repulsive about you. and besides, i've already seen you at your grossest. remember when you got mono and your neck was all swollen?"

you glower at him. “yeah, and i caught it from you! that makes me feel so much better.”

shaking his head, his next words are insistent. 

“i mean it. did you know, that every time we go out, someone tells me how lucky i am? c'mon, darling, you know i wouldn't be saying this shit if it wasn't true.”

“i know, and i want to, but fuck, matty it's going to be so bad.”

“well yeah, with that attitude it will. we’re gonna figure out what you like, but only if you want to.”

his eyes are soft, looking down at you with unguarded warmth. 

clearing your throat, you fidget nervously with the edge of your (his) sweater.

“so. how - um - how do you want to...?”

he grins crookedly. “move to the middle of the bed.”

swallowing hard, you follow his instructions, legs splayed flat out in front of you as you lean back on your elbows, staring at him expectantly.

“this is about you, okay? whatever you want to do, we can do. including nothing, if it doesn’t feel right.”

your voice is barely more than a whisper. “want you to touch me.”

you could swear you hear a little hitch in his breath, and mustering all the courage you have, you meet his gaze. his mouth is slightly open, the curved bow of his upper lip revealing the edges of his white teeth, and you watch as he presses his lips closed, nodding.

"okay. you gotta talk to me, yeah? tell me if you want me to stop, if something feels good, or if you want more. deal?”

“deal,” you breathe back.

he moves, bending his head to press his mouth on the side of your neck. something splinters hot down the centre of your body, and it takes you a second to realize that it’s desire, pure and hard, crystalline. you can already feel slick warmth in your underwear, and you haven’t even started.

“oh,” you gasp, the round syllable small in your mouth, and he lowers his hand, smoothing down the bunched fabric of your (his) sweater, following the swell of your hip, moving slowly so you have time to breathe.

“good?” he murmurs, and you nod dumbly.

he inches lower, hand flat on your leg, fingers resting just a hairsbreadth from your centre. matty drags his hand lightly along the inside of your thigh, opening his mouth on your neck, tongue hot as he presses it to the softness of your skin.

“how ‘bout now?”

“mhm,” you manage.

unbearably careful, he brushes the tip of his index finger along the seam of your pants, the pressure light, but precise, right against the place you’re most sensitive. your left leg jerks as though you’ve been shocked, and he freezes his hand there, lips sealing around your neck, holding you until you stop twitching with alarm.

you can already feel a steady pooling in your underwear, and you shift uncomfortably against him, unsure if you’re doing it to relieve the ache between your legs or to increase the friction against you.

still moving with absolute restraint, he presses down, a slow, controlled line directly down the centre of your cunt. the tension in every single joint is making you shake, muscles burning with the effort of holding still, and you swear you feel something crack as he eases his touch up to rest at the waistband of your pants, before sliding his hand underneath.

“you still with me?" he murmurs and you can’t move, can’t speak, can’t breathe.

his callused fingers are resting just above your pussy, palm lightly pressed to the rise of your mound, and he lifts his lips to graze your ear.

“you gotta talk to me,” he reminds you.

you shudder, releasing your held breath, shoulders sore from the stiffness of your body. 

“yes. yes, i’m - it’s good, please don’t stop.”

he opens his hand, letting his middle finger drag slowly between your folds, and you feel it at the same moment he does; you’re soaked.

so unbelievably wet it feels like something’s gone wrong and you want to shut your legs and crawl away from him. your skin is prickling with heat as you feel a slow line of sweat roll down the back of your leg, making you squirm, desperate to shuck your skin.

“oh, baby..." he breathes, the edges of his teeth scraping your earlobe. “you’re soaked.”

clenching your eyes shut, your is voice petulant as you murmur back to him.

“i can’t help it, i don’t know why, it’s not my fault. i -"

“shush. it’s so fucking hot. you’re so reactive,” he says, voice gravelly. he slides a second finger to join the first, parting them and spreading your folds. even through the fabric of your pants, you can both hear the slick sound and you want to die; burrow into a hole somewhere and never come out. as though sensing your squirming agony, he chooses that moment to ease both fingers inside you, and your heart stops in your chest at the slow stretch.

this is matty. your matty. and right now his fingers are inside you, stretching you open.

the thought alone is enough to make your entire body throb with a sudden, overpowering pulse and you feel yourself clench around him unconsciously. he groans into your ear.

“you’re so tight. shit, you feel perfect. does that feel good?”

you can’t speak, nodding helplessly against him. he withdraws a couple of centimetres, easing back inside slower but deeper than before, hooking his fingers slightly inside you. your hips flex against his touch, trying to encourage him to keep moving as he rolls his thumb over your clit, and you see stars.

matty's touch feels as confident as the way he performs; like he was born to do this; like he could do it in his sleep.

he drags his fingers inside you, and your pelvis lifts unconsciously to follow his movements, trying to chase the feeling.

“you’re doing so good, baby. you're so pretty, so fucking hot. y'gonna come for me, love?”

despite the intensity of the sensations between your legs, it’s his words that tip you over the edge. you bite down hard on your bottom lip, trying to contain the high-pitched groan as your muscles clamp around his fingers, cunt fluttering. You feel your warmth coating his fingers, and he rides you through it, his movements only easing to a stop once your body has relaxed into a melted heap draped over him.

slowly, he withdraws his fingers from your pants, sliding out from underneath you and lowering your malleable, floppy limbs onto the bed. you watch him drunkenly as he sits up in front of you on his knees, gaze snagging on his hand.

you’re mortified at the sight of the clear viscous fluid stretching between his parted fingers, and you just about die of embarrassment as he brings his hand to his lips, sliding them into his mouth and sucking them clean.

“perfect. you’re perfect,” he tells you, and you want to cover your face, but you’re pinned there, watching. his pants are tented tellingly in the front, and you’re trying not to make it obvious but you can’t tear your gaze away. 

“told you. nothing wrong with you,” he informs you, grinning.

“i’m gonna take your pants off,” he says, and you lift your hips helpfully, earning a little twist from his lips at your enthusiasm. sliding your legs free, he settles on his knees. your eyes are drawn back helplessly to the bulge in his pants, and he catches you looking.

“matty, i want - want you to...”

“what, love? c'mon, talk to me.” he crawls up over you, braced on his hands and knees, leaning down.

“fuck me.”

he raises an eyebrow. “you need a break first?”

in response, you lift your hips to press against the hard outline of his straining cock. he ducks his head, leaning his weight up on one arm as he kicks his pants down and you watch the muscles in his shoulder work through the thin fabric of his shirt.

“i’m gonna fuck you so good, baby. you want that?”

“yeah,” you whisper. “yes, do it, please.” 

“do what?” matty asks with a wry smile. he’s propped up on one elbow now, gazing down into your raw, open face. “c’mon, you've got to say it for me, angel.”

you let out a shaky sigh, a hand sliding down to the back of matty's neck. you pull him close, so your lips brush. “please fuck me. need you so bad.”

matty's eyes flutter closed for a moment. he breathes out hard, then leans away, and sits up. he's struggling with getting his pants all the way off, so you help the best you can, feeling fluttery and strange, in a feverish trance of pleasure, dumb with anticipation for more.

“please,” you mutter, “please, come on, i want it-”

“fuck, fuck, okay…” matty says, chuckling. “you gotta take it easy with the begging, sweetheart. i’m already putting everything i have into not coming the second i get inside you.” 

flushing, you brush the stray curls from matty's face. "you said you'd make it good. so shut up, and fuck me already."

"there’s my favourite brat,” matty says with a grin, then he’s holding himself at your entrance, easing in slowly, a hand on your waist. 

he’s big. you have a moment of panic at the stretch, and you gasp, hands flying up to grasp at his forearms as though you could somehow control the movement of his hips that way.

his teeth are pressed to his lip, eyes shut, and you wonder exactly how tight it is for him as he shudders through an exhalation. he forces his eyes open to look down at you, concern evident, checking up on you even as his arms shake with the effort of holding still.

“oh, sh - shit. you good?”

nodding, you release your own held breath with a shudder, your entire body trembling violently underneath him, thighs aching from how tightly wound your muscles are. he sinks down another inch and you both hiss in synchrony, your fingers tightening around his arms just as his tighten around your waist.

“you’re doing so good baby, you’re taking me so well, you feel perfect,” he’s breathing, the fullness unbearable. you arch your neck to look down at where you’re split open around him, the sight enough to make your breath hitch in your chest. he looks down in time to see your eyes widen, and he follows your gaze, his strangled intake of breath following.

“you see that? see how perfect you are? fuck, you’re so beautiful, you’re so tight, you feel incredible...” 

you press your lips to his, stopping his unhinged babbling. you’re trying your hardest just to concentrate on taking his thick cock, breathing through the desperate ache as he slowly forces you open. he parts his lips against yours and you press your tongue against him, seeking more. his groaning response makes him slip, losing control for one second, just long enough to let him sink the rest of the way inside you. he’s trying to break from your lips, but you don’t want to listen to whatever it is he’s about to say, so you gently bite down on his lower lip, holding him captive. his hips flex helplessly into you as he tries to talk again, and despite your breathlessness, you could almost laugh at the fact that even now, typically; matty healy just cannot shut the fuck up.

the agonizing, all-encompassing stretch is slowly easing into something else; something bright and hard, sending skittering shockwaves up through your stomach. experimentally you flatten your feet on the bed under you, using the leverage to push your hips up and—shit, it’s too much, too full, you can’t possibly take any more of him but then right there, the angle shifts, and something snaps in your brain.

you wrench your head back, keening as you try to grind up into that spot, that fucking spot. matty's eyes are unfocused, his expression pained.

“baby, wait, wait a sec,” and you can’t help but roll yourself against him again, making him choke.

“what’s wrong?” you breathe back, unable to keep still, your legs trembling with the effort of holding yourself up against him.

“is this...not good?” you ask, suddenly small.

he doesn’t answer right away, and you watch as sweat beads on his upper lip, his eyes still squeezed shut.

“matty?” you try again and he makes a strangled sound, eyes snapping open to pin you down.

“say my name again,” and you barely shape your lips around it before he’s hissing, driving his hips down to smack hard into yours, knocking the breath from your lungs. 

“d’yknow how - how many times i’ve thought about this? About being inside you like this?” he punctuates his words with short, hard thrusts. “you’re fucking perfect. your pussy's, fuck - fucking perfect.”

your face erupts with heat at his words. he catches you flinching and his eyes light, grinning even as you watch the muscles in his shoulders shake with the effort of controlling himself.

“why’s that make you shy? don’t like me talking about your pussy? you wanna know how good you feel, baby? you’re—shit,” another shallow thrust, his brows pinching together, “so tight and, fuck, taking me so well…” his rambling trails out into nonsensical murmurs. 

he’s slowly working into a rhythm, flexing his hips backwards, still short and shallow but he’s angling himself so precisely, right against the place where you can’t stand, and it’s too much. you squirm back into the mattress, trying to escape, but there’s nowhere to go as the sensation swells to a crest. you tighten around him, your legs falling limp, your fingers creeping up into his hair, needing something to brace yourself against as the growing reverberations between your legs throb outwards, filling your stomach with heat.

you can almost see your orgasm rocketing up through you, your vision cutting out right as you shatter with a pathetic moan of his name. your cunt clamps down on him hard, again and again, rippling around him. he watches you fall apart, his breathing steady despite the tremor in his limbs. he barely gives you a minute to recover before he’s moving again, deepening his thrusts, expression one of absolute focus. the sheer concentration in his eyes scares the shit out of you; you know that look. it’s the one he gets whenever someone tells him no to an idea in the studio, when someone says that he shouldn't put out another black and white music video, when his bullish stubbornness completely takes over.

matty leans back, raising himself onto his knees between your spread legs. he brings a hand under each of your knees, crooking your legs up around his waist as he works in and out of you, the wet squelch of your cunt loud over the muffled sounds of the forgotten movie as he begins to fuck you in earnest. you can’t breathe, incapacitated by the shuddering of your legs, your stomach muscles clenching as your body desperately tries to keep up with your frantic gasping. your back is arched, your shoulders forced down into the bed with the force of each thrust as he reaches down between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit as easily as though your body is laid out the same as his guitars or keyboards, practised and nimble.

sweat prickles your skin anew as his fingers drag you higher and incomprehensibly higher and you wail, slapping a hand over your mouth to still the sound. he leans over you, the triangle of bare skin at his chest gleaming with sweat, fine silver chain glinting under the edge of his shirt. he grabs your wrist and moves your hand aside, pinning it to the bed beside your head.

"hey, hey. c'mon babe, let me hear you." he times a perfectly-aligned thrust with a firm stroke over your clit and, unable to stop yourself, you let out a breathless moan. he grins, chuckling breathily.

"god, you sound so good. prettiest fuckin' thing ive ever heard," he murmurs, voice ragged. he rips the sound from you again, and again, watching greedily. it’s too much, way too much and you’re already over the edge of another orgasm before you realize what’s happening, eyes rolling back in your head, mouth open in wordless pleasure.

this time he doesn’t slow down, instead increasing the pressure on your clit, fucking you deeper. his cock hits something sharp high up in your guts and you sob as another orgasm rolls up from your stomach, washing over the last climax. your hips twitch helplessly against his grip as he fucks you through each wave of pleasure, and you think you’re coming again, or still coming, you can’t tell anymore, time losing all meaning as your cunt sucks wet at his cock, bearing down on him vice-tight.

some impossible time later, you realize his breaths have shortened into gasps. his hips stutter and he leans back down over you, arms braced on either side of your head as his pace falls out of its steady rhythm. you manage to regain control of yourself long enough to reach a hand up to the back of his neck, feeling the hem of his shirt under your fingers. he looks down at you, and his mouth drops open, eyes dropping shut as he groans your name, low and rough, and as he plunges in deep you actually feel him coming before he does. his back curves over you, his forehead pressed to yours as his hips shudder, and the tightening of his stomach muscles against yours is echoed inside you as his cock throbs, filling you.

he lays heavy on your chest, both of you panting. everything is so slick underneath you, you can’t tell what’s sweat and what’s cum, your skin feverish. you shift your thighs restlessly, sticky and aching and he raises his head, looking down at you.

“was that...okay?” you breathe, self-conscious again.

his eyes shut briefly as he shakes his head.

“you’re crazy. she’s crazy,” he says to nobody in particular, lifting himself over you, hands pressing into the mattress. 

gasping, you sit up on your elbows to look down at him.

“what are you doing?”

his tongue laves long stripe along your still-sensitive pussy, dipping briefly inside before he breaks the contact to look up at you, eyebrow raised.

“cleaning you up. you thought we were done?”

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© 2023 justlikemebutsixfootthree - all rights reserved. do not copy, translate, modify, or claim as yours

#matty ⎕ ‧₊˚ #the 1975 #the 1975 smut #matty healy #matty healy fanfic #matty healy x reader #the 1975 fic #the 1975 fanfic #the 1975 imagine #matty healy smut #matty healy drabble #matty healy x you #matty healy x y/n #fanfic #the 1975 matty #the 1975 imagines #the 1975 preference #the 1975 preferences #the 1975 one shot #the 1975 one shots #the 1975 fanfiction #matt healy #matthew healy #matty healy preference #matty healy imagine #matty healy imagines #matty healy preferences #matty healy one shot #matty healy one shots #matty healy fanfiction

[definitelynotshouting]

dance au you say 👀👀👀 is it like Grian and Scar typically do different styles of dance but are for some reason partnered together or do they dance the same style and gotta choreograph a routine together but kinda buttheads with how they choreograph

Not quite, although thats a super cool idea!!! :D my au is about Grian asking Scar for dance lessons while preparing for an event he's been invited to-- he's expected to dance, and has never really applied himself to learn more than the very basics until now.

Scar, however, is an excellent dancer and offers to teach him, builds them an intricate gazebo to learn in, shows up to their first lesson in an immaculate new suit, and proceeds to unintentionally but enthusiastically seduce Grian-- who's had a crush for a long time, but hasn't yet gotten up the courage to do anything about it.

The penultimate scene goes a little something like this:

Grian asks Scar for one last practice session before the event. He doesn't even need to feign nervousness-- he's practically sweating bullets. But practicing isnt really his motivation here; in all honesty, he just wants to spend one more time in Scar's arms.

It's evening, golden and sticky with summer, and they're dancing as the sun slowly begins to set. Scar's complimenting, hyping him up, telling him he's a natural now, he'll do so great. He'll be rooting for him at the event the ENTIRE time. The jukebox's music fades, and the dance ends with a flourish, and Grian finds himself nose to nose with a Scar who is gazing at him like he's everything.

Then Scar seems to shake himself, disengages, and gently tells him he'll do great. Amazing, even. The envy of the dance floor. They both step back at the same time.

But the sun is hitting Scar's face just right, and he's gorgeous, and Grian just had him in his arms, and-- and-- and--

Grian impulsively darts forward and kisses the life out of him, fast and a little messy, with his heart beating right out of his chest. And then in true Grian fashion, he freaks out about his own impulsivity and flies away without addressing ANY of this bc he Cant Be Normal Ever, leaving poor Scar to stare off into the sunset with his hand pressed absently against his lips.

What follows after that is some very strained event participation on Grian's part, and Scar trying desperately to talk to him while Grian dodges him like his life depends on it. Eventually, Grian gets exhausted by it all and takes a moment to recoup by wandering outside for some fresh air.

This is where Scar finds him; a little cold, a bit shivery, feeling VERY sorry for himself, and finally Grian doesn't have the patience or energy to run any longer. I actually wrote out a tiny snippet of this scene:

"You know, you're, uh, awful slippery when you want to be." Scar's voice is deceptively casual. "You've gotta teach me that vanishing trick sometime." "Grow wings," Grian suggests wryly, then sobers, pulling Scar's jacket a little tighter around his shoulders. "Sorry. For— that. Yesterday. Yeah." "Sorry you did it? Or sorry it happened?" "Scar," Grian says, pained, "you just said the exact same thing twice." "Not really." Scar's voice is quiet, contemplative. He still isn't looking at Grian when he speaks. "'Cause, y'know, there's— I mean, dancing is pretty intimate, right? Plenty of opportunity for things to just... happen, without them meaning to. It's pretty common, really." He's giving Grian an out, he realizes. An escape hatch left wide open, a gaping crevice Grian can slip through without snagging his feathers. He could lie, right here and right now, and Scar is telling him that would be okay. Everything could go back to normal. Maybe its the atmosphere. Maybe it's the night air, a cool caress on his face, and the moon rising high and bright in the sky above them. A waxing growth that limns them both in pretty silver, catching on the edges of Scar's profile. He's beautiful, as always, and as much as Grian's stomach trembles, he can't tear his eyes from the sight of him. "More like I'm sorry for ruining a perfectly good friendship," Grian croaks at last. Scar blinks, lips parting briefly, throat bobbing as he swallows. His gaze lowers slowly, until his lashes paint dark lines against his cheeks. "Who says it got ruined?" he finally asks. "Scar, I kissed you," Grian says miserably, huddling further into himself. "Yeah, that was kinda hard not to notice." "Scar." "What? It's true! I was there, I saw it!" Oddly, there's the hint of a smile threading into Scar's voice; when he turns to pin Grian's gaze, it reflects on his lips, tilted up the tiniest fraction. In the moonlight, his eyes almost glow. "But sure, lets assume you've ruined a friendship. Which you have not, by the way— in case you were wondering." All the air leaves Grian's lungs at once. He's paralyzed, tipping over the knife's edge of something only Scar can see. "I didn't?" "Nah." Scar's voice is achingly warm now. "Not even close. Actually, my only question right now is: do you wanna do it again?"

Anyway they smooch again and get catcalled by their friends and Grian dips Scar bc Scar deserves to get dipped and its very sweet bc sometimes u rlly do just need some low stakes pining THEE END❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

#scarian #goodtimeswithscar #grian #hermitcraft #hermitshipping #shouting speaks #asks #mcyt #my aus #my snippets #ITS A VERY SWEET SILLY LITTLE AU THAT MAYBE ONE DAY I WILL WRITE #but until then. here is a REALLY brief summary of it djdbdjdndjdj #long post #txt

[blues-sues]

It had been a year.

Though part of her suspected it had been longer. It felt like an eternity.

Sometimes she felt like the only peace she could truly find anymore were these night walks with her son.

He'd been born a few months before it happened. Yet he didn't understand a thing, of course. He was merely a child.

One who tugged now on her wrist, with a distressed whine as he looks over his shoulder, brows furrowed.

"Stain? What's wrong?" She turns her head to look down at him in concern. She knew her son was extremely prone to having sudden rushes of anxiety. She'd hoped the soothe bell around his neck would improve it, but it had only lessened a small amount.

"Scarf!" Once the word escaped him, Pigment had never turned as fast. Looking back on it, she's not sure why. Perhaps part of her hoped her father remained out there. But she knew the answer all too well.

It had been a year.

Fate was a despicable thing, taking her father. She'd thought maybe she'd stop having hope that he'd come back. She knew he was gone. And she knew she wouldn't see anything as she turned around.

"Stain, there's nothing there. You needn't worry." She tries to comfort him but the young Mewtwo doesn't take his eyes off the tree. Her frown depends.

She gives his hand a gentle squeeze, but he still doesn't avert his gaze, instead beginning to wave one of his arms, his legs beginning to bounce as he rocked on his feet. "There! There!" He squeaked out, scrambling to hide behind her hip. Pigment breathes out.

"I'll check, okay? Just to be sure." She offers. Stain looks up at her, his eyes wide before his chin lowers in the tiny symbol of a nod. Releasing his hand lightly, she glides herself closer to the tree, peering her head around it.

"I told you, nothing's there."

And nothing was. She wasn't sure why he'd been so panicked. He's rather skittish, but still, not enough to be startled by well..air. She decides to come to the conclusion that perhaps he saw some sort of other 'mon on its night route.

"Ma! Saw Scarf!" He's waving both hands now, his fur spiked as he looks around with nervous glances. A strange detail to keep bringing up. Her heart sinks as her own mind recalls a scarf, her hand drifting up to clasp at the bandana over her shoulders.

A swift shake of her head as she leans down and lifts Stain into her arms, tucking his head against her chest.

"It's alright. I'll protect you."

And so, a hum emerges from her. A tune that once it reaches Stain, it causes his eyelids to flutter downwards, a tiny yawn escaping him as his trembling slowly starts to cease.

Perhaps she should've checked behind the tree twice.

A shadow looms there now, his eyes narrowed as his fingers grip the fabric he wears. The blue was now much darker. His fingers now claws.

He'd changed after death, he'd noticed. So had the world, it appeared. After all, it had been a year.

How foolish of he to think it could all stay the same.

_______

End.

Woop that was a long one. I came up with this during school.

I'd had the general idea for a while after seeing some of Tc's asks about what if Scarfy died and decided to do a little something.

My backgrounds aren't top tier but the flowers in the front are Forget-me-nots.

For clarification: this isn't supposed to be bashing on these characters for not recovering in a year after Scarfy's death. It's meant to show that grief lasts a long time. And sometimes it takes time to completely settle. Pigment is still sort of coming to terms with it, part of her struggling to believe he's truly gone.

These characters belong to @xxtc-96xx !!

Also, in this, I made the choice that after a Pokemon dies, they become y'know a ghost. Or in Scarfy's case, a ghost fusion. He became a Haunter fusion since Pig technically has Gengar blood and I'm pretty sure Stains would-be fusion is a Gastly.

I might do more doodles and such about this, but here's the first! I genuinely really like this idea and may or may not have gotten some inspiration from Ghosting by Mother Mother.

#pokemon #mewtwo #babytwo #fanart #Mewtwo fusion??

[sanshoney]

older brother & male!child!reader

reader is 10, older brother is 18

no plot, just fluff

shout out to boys who never wanted siblings, only an older brother

(intentional lowercase, no use of y/n)

– to be honest, having dead parents is a burden alone. but also having a little brother you have to take care of now? yeah, noah knows it all too well.

– seriously, he can barely take care of himself. he barely graduated! and he can't even live alone because of his stupid brother. things aren't the best right now for him.

– of course, you're not the one at fault here. you didn't want your parents dead, right? besides, you had never been particularly too close with your older brother. maybe it's the big age gap or maybe it's his unbearable personality. or the combination of both.

– if he were a bit kinder to you, everything would be just fine. he never touches you and rarely talks to you. there are times you don't see him for days. you find yourself missing your father's warm embrace and loving words.

– still, you try so hard to get his attention. you ask him about his day everytime he arrives home. for your efforts, you get a short 'boring' from noah and moments later he's off to his room.

– you know it's hard for him. being an adult must be hard... especially in his case. you appreciate everything he does for you, from working to cooking dinner. you always say "thank you, big brother!" with a wide smile on your face, hugging his waist. you're a well-mannered boy, after all. he usually groans and pats your head awkwardly, muttering a quiet "whatever."

you decide he's not good with words or touch or... well, you decide to draw your affection for him! you work on the drawing for an hour, wanting it to be absolutely perfect. your final product on the paper is quite good! the sun is shining on the left upper corner, the grass is a pretty green and the clouds are blue. in the middle, there are two people: a short and a tall one. the short one is you, wearing a blue t-shirt and green shorts. you're holding the hand of the taller figure, who is noah! he's wearing a red tee (you found out red is his favorite colour!) with grey pants. a happy smile is plastered on both of the boys' faces.

you grab the paper satisfied, ready to give it to your brother. you sprint to his room, knocking loudly. a muffled "come in" can be heard, so you hurriedly open the door. you stand in front of him, hiding the paper behind your back. "big brother, i have a surprise for you!" you announce, almost bouncing from exhilaration. he looks up from his phone and waits for you to continue. you reveal the paper and place it on his bed. he looks down confused and lifts up the paper. hes looking at it, scrutinizing it and... his lips curve into a faint smile. "why did you make this?" you can tell by his tone that he's a bit flattered. "i thought you'd like it... thank you for everything you do for me!" you smile at him innocently, really hoping this will change something in him.

– ever since that day, something truly had changed. whenever you ask him about his day, he says more than one word and he even asks you the same question! when you hug him, he runs his hand through your hair. you always lean happily into his touch and smile, which makes him smile.

– recently, you started hanging out in his room. usually, he's showing you photos he took. you learnt hes working as a photographer, which is pretty cool in your opinion.

– sometimes, he gestures for you to go closer to him. he wraps his arms around you and rubs your back slowly. "little brother, y'know it's just us, right? im sorry for being distant. it's... hard. but thank you for being understanding and patient. i appreciate it." you nod and hug him back.

– in the end, all that matters is that you are always there for each other. maybe the harsh reality of the everydays can lose their sharpness a little in each other's arms.

hope you enjoyed!! ♡

what do you think about him? :3

#Spotify #x reader #x male reader #oc x reader #oc x male reader #x child reader #big brother #older brother #older brother x male reader #big brother x male reader #brother x male reader #big brother x child reader #older brother x child reader #brother x child reader

[dipendenteconad]

Some LiuHan/BiKang headcanons for MY soul (NSFW) pt. 2/?

Random nsfw hc, there's not a particular warning because I don't get too much into detail, but beware anyway.

From a chat I had with my pookie @staronx

I want to imagine their first time the same way I wrote in my fic Darkshines: they were attracted to each other for some time (still, Liu Kang was way more invested in the relationship at first) and eventually they couldn't ignore their feelings anymore. Still, it lacked real intimacy, and it was followed by a bitter morning after;

The following nights they spend together are objectively better for both of them. Liu Kang would definitely regret how their first time went, and he'd try his best to make Bi-Han feel at ease with him again. He's the definition of romantic, he'd never take Bi-Han without setting the right mood;

Liu Kang is THE service top, and Bi-Han is THE power bottom. You can't change my mind on that. Liu would be down to be at the receiving end once or twice, but he prefers to stay on top because he wants the focus to be all on his beloved. He doesn't care that much about his pleasure but more on Bi-Han's one: this includes that he's very observing of Bi-Han's reactions, so that he knows what he enjoys most and what he dislikes without the need for him to say anything; he also finishes only after Bi-Han's done and he hates it whenever he can't control himself and ends up coming before him (but y'know sometimes it just feels too good);

While Bi-Han had always been used either to quickies or rough fucks, he came to appreciate it when Liu Kang took things slowly. They can go at it for hours and do more than one round without either of them growing tired or bored of the other's attentions. Again, Liu is very romantic to me. They really have little time to spend together like this, and they want to make the best out of each night, and if that means making love until morning, so be it;

Also Liu is usually very gentle in bed but he can be rougher if Bi-Han asks him to (after all, he knows he can take it). He personally likes to mark Bi-Han, more like a playful provocation than a show of possessiveness;

While he's very careful with his touches, at the same time, Liu lets Bi-Han do anything he wants to him. He trusts that Bi-Han wouldn't purposely hurt him, so he's not afraid to let him scratch, bite and touch, however (and wherever) he wants. He enjoys it a lot especially when he lets Bi-Han use his mouth: the latter finds pulling Liu's hair and making him choke on his cock hotter than what he wants to admit. The morning after Liu's throat is so sore it hurts him to speak;

Liu Kang is the one who usually initiates things, but it's just because Bi-Han is too proud to openly admit he needs to fuck. Even if he's the one who craves Liu's touch the most: he would never say it out loud, but he misses him a lot whenever they're away from each other. He doesn't express his needs also because Liu Kang recognizes his signals too well;

Body worship in bed is a must: Liu would take all the time in the world to prepare Bi-Han and he particularly loves to caress and kiss his body all over until the latter's a moaning mess and he's melting under him (sometimes he teases him just to see how long Bi-Han can take before losing his patience and begging him to touch him where he needs it);

Also, as someone who has never been used to people complimenting his body, Liu Kang's praises weren't taken very seriously by Bi-Han. At first, he just thought it was his lust talking, but deep down, his heart melted at the thought of Liu appreciating him that much. Tho this doesn't only apply in bed but on all occasions, Liu likes displaying affections (in my opinion) in all the ways he can, so when they're alone he kisses and holds him with an affection Bi-Han has never seen with anyone else, while if they're in public, he limits himself by complimenting him in ways that wouldn't rise suspects but that still can have double meanings (at least for Bi-Han who knows him deeply);

Am I too soft with them? I see some people interpretating them as a love-hate type of pair, but I personally can't see Liu Kang as anything different than a tender lover.

Anyway, I think I've said enough for part 2! I am cringe but I am free.

#credit for the photo @ROTTEN5OOD on twt #bikang #mortal kombat 1 #liuhan #bi han #bi han × liu kang

[rivalry-trope-enjoyer]

An Unexpected Confession (Leviathan x Reader)

Summary: Leviathan has confided in you for as long as you could remember. It's been an equivalent exchange for the most part, until the topic of relationships come up...

Tags: Romantic confession, mutual nerdy pining, fluff, a dating sim get's a little too real

"Ugh, this lead doesn't like any of the gifts I give her!" Leviathan complains, begrudgingly handing the controller to you.

"The Childhood Friend doesn't like sweets anymore, Levi. You'd know this if you actually paid attention during the dialogue," you chuckle teasingly, giving the character a gift that made the video game character swoon.

"Urghhh I'm a failure of a pro-gamer..." Leviathan groans in annoyance, folding his arms as he watch you continue to play the game.

You and Leviathan started playing a dating sim that he failed miserably going in blind the first time. He hated to admit it, but considering the experience you've had with dating sims was a little bit more than him, he reluctantly asked you for your assistance.

All of this struggle towards trying to woo the video game character made a part of Leviathan feel a little bit somber. As you silently cheer after successfully raising the character's love meter, you could see the demon's mood progressively sour.

"Levi, what's wrong?" you ask reluctantly. "We don't have to keep playing if you want."

Leviathan look away from you, trying his best to mask the rock you feel sinking through your chest. It was inexplainable, but you were the last person he would want to bring up such a problem to.

"N-Nothing! We can keep playing, it's okay, we're almost at the first good ending," he denies, looking at the monitor of the paused game.

You frown at his response, clearly not buying his sad attempt at covering up his emotions. "You know you can tell me anything, right?" you put the controller down and shift to your side to face him. "So what's on your mind, Levi?"

Leviathan takes a long pause, his eyes shifting around the room, anywhere but meeting yours. He was having an internal dilemma as he opened his mouth to speak, but words continued to fail. He wanted to run out of his room then and there, but where would he go? Outside?! He'd rather die...

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, he takes a deep breath and decides to let out what has been bothering him little by little. "You might think I'm a loser, o-or maybe you already think I'm a loser... but I don't have any experience at all when it comes to romance," he sighs out, his hands shaking slightly as he spoke.

You listen to him intently, but your gaze makes Leviathan much more nervous than he started out.

"I-I just wonder when I'm gonna be able to have an experience like this outside of 2D, y'know?" he continues, his head feeling light, like he could pass out at any second.

You took a pause before you could say anything to Leviathan, just beginning his messy ramble that stemmed from a bad ending of a video game...

"Ah, forget it... Y/N I don't know when it'll ever be my turn. Maybe I'm just unlovable. Like the no-good loser I've always been meant to be," Leviathan was slowly slipping from a stable state of mind and started to spiral into madness.

"Levi don't say that," you quickly prompt before his thoughts would get any worse, your own nerves settling in watching him talk down to himself like this.

"B-But what if it's true?" he panics.

"It's not," you respond quickly.

He senses a sudden urgency in your voice and quickly tries to stop himself from talking. "I'm so sorry, Y/N... I didn't mean to start acting like this," Leviathan quickly doubles down.

"It's okay," you reassure. "Sometimes I wonder the same for myself," you speak while letting out a soft chuckle.

Leviathan looks up at you in curiosity. "Y-You? A normie like you has to worry about that?" he asks in a state of bewilderment.

"Well, yeah I guess everyone does at some point in their lives." As you spoke, Leviathan's panic tones down slightly. "But it's what you decide to do about that. If you really think you're doomed to be alone, then I guess there's no harm in trying, right?"

"H-Huh?! Like a confession? I don't think I can do that...," Leviathan's constant stammers descends into an incoherent language.

You encourage him with a sweet smile on your face, scooting to him closer on the couch, making him nearly melt from the action.

"Would it help to lead by example then?" you ask in an innocent voice.

"I-I guess..." Leviathan closes his eyes and nods rapidly.

"Well," you begin, putting on a brave smile for the anxious demon in front of you, despite you feeling embarrassed from what you were about to say.

"Leviathan, I like you! How about a date to the arcade sometime?" you follow up with a wink, watching the demon's face turn into one of perpetual shock.

"Woah Y/N that almost sounded real... I-If I didn't know any better I'd say you were actually confessing to me! Haha...," he blurts out in a fit of anxiety, the palms of his hands sweating as he spoke. He wonders how it came out of your mouth so easily, was it so impossible to think of dating someone like him?!

"Oh that was an actual confession," you smile mischievously. "I really do like you Levi!"

*Leviathan.exe has stopped working.*

You watch him freeze in his spot, his entire body shutting down as you spoke, wondering if he was so consumed in digital media that he confused the art of dating sims for reality.

"Now your turn," you tease, anticipating for Leviathan's response.

You would not be able to get a response from Leviathan for at least minutes as he continues to recover. He has an internal battle of whether or not to say something, his words possibly being utter crap, or to sit there and look even more like an idiot in your eyes.

"C-Can I have some time...?" Leviathan pleads, hiding his face in his hands, close to tears over this reciprocation.

You nod in agreement. "Sure, but in the dating sim there would be a time limit~"

"This isn't that!" he retorts quickly, his voice muffled behind his hands.

Each word comes out of the shy demon's mouth slowly, but surely, a coherent sentence of "I like you, too" came to fruition. Despite being broken up by complaints of frustration and nerves rising to his throat, the message came across to you clean and simple.

#leviathan x reader #obey me x reader #obey me shall we date #obey me leviathan #om! leviathan

[multifandoms27-blog]

Painting your nails with the demons | Fluff

• ───────────────── •

Content: Akaza x gn!Reader, Kokushibo x gn!Reader, Douma x gn!Reader, Gyutaro x gn!Reader (all separate)

Warnings: Douma LMAO

Notes: I just painted my nails after a breakdown (I'm fine lol dw) over college and suddenly got the urge to paint their nails too. These hc's are incredibly short, I apologize <3

• ───────────────── •

❥ Akaza

Akaza had walked in on you painting your nails a (color), and looked at his own pink nails

Turning to see him after you finished the first hand, you gave him a little smile

"Wanna join me, Aka?"

He'll happily sit with you, letting your hands hold his steady while you paint the same color on him

He loves matching with you, so this just makes him excited

Absolutely demolishes Douma if he makes any kind of comment about it

But the bastard just begs for more pain. He's got the fucking "Wow...your punch really turned me on!" energy going on (please tell me SOMEBODY gets that reference...)

Whenever you take the nail polish off, he's gonna wanna be there so he can take his off too. Then will probably ask if you're going to put on another color or not

• ───────────────── •

❥ Kokushibo

His multiple eyes scare the shit out of me, but I'd rather them be freaky than not utilized at all

I still love him tho <3

Koku's nails aren't painted like some other demons, but he suppose he'll do one hand in black if it'll make you happy

He's silent and keeps a neutral expression as he sits beside you, allowing you to paint his right hand and you can paint your left, so that when you hold his hand, it seems like you're joined together

He just likes the subtle domesticity

"Well, what about my other hand?"

"Do whatever you want." Koku spoke slowly.

"And what about your other hand?"

"No."

He only wants one hand painted, slightly questioning if Muzan would disapprove of his nails being painted in the first place

But then he remembers Douma's, Akaza's and Gyutaro's nails are painted, and then he suddenly doesn't care that one of his hands are painted

Wont do anything but direct a cold, neutral look at someone if they make fun of his nails only being painted on one hand

They were done by his s/o, eat shit and die, peasant

• ───────────────── •

❥ Douma

Is ecstatic

Immediately takes off his own blue nail polish to math whatever color you're putting on

Gives you kisses as you paint his nails, sometimes making you mess up and get the polish on his skin

"Not to worry, darling! I can always take it off my skin, you just keep painting!" Douma grins, continuing to kiss you

Parades your matching nails around like it's the greatest gift ever

Brags to Akaza about how he has "such an amazing s/o" and how Akaza doesn't

Of course he gets hit, but Douma then salivates for more negative attention from Akaza

Once the polish begins to chip away, he's going to sit you down, take off the polish from both of you and then paint your nails again himself, in a different color

"We should switch turns every time!" Douma exclaims

"Oh, maybe we could even mix and match depending on the upcoming holiday! How fun! Oh, this is the best idea you've had, darling~!"

• ───────────────── •

❥ Gyutaro

Okay, Gyutaro probably needs a serious manicure (and this is coming from someone who never gets manicures, but at least has a nail filer)

Would also probably do his skin some good to have his nails filed down, cause then it can't...y'know...COME OFF

But I do think the gray color on his nails is the natural color they are now, but I also like to believe that sometimes he paints his nails black to feel better <3

When he sees you painting your nails, he immediately wants to join. Ume is probably not too far behind, so she'll probably join in before Gyutaro

If the color you're painting your nails with isn't black, then he'll paint his nails himself while watching you and Ume match your colors

If it is black, then he'll happily let you paint his nails for him (the teasing from his sister later on is so worth it, because you touched his unworthy hands!!!)

Gyu would also probably keep re-applying the nail polish whenever it got slightly chipped, believing you'd grow angry and upset at what he deemed as "decimation to your art"

Whenever he sees black nail polish he thinks of you now, so have fun with that lol

Probably keeps a shit ton of black nail polish on standby cause he keeps stealing yours

• ───────────────── •

Here is my Masterlist in case you want to request, or look for more of your favorite character!

#kny demons #kny akaza #demon slayer akaza #akaza #kny kokushibo #demon slayer kokushibo #kokushibo #kny douma #demon slayer douma #douma #doma #kny gyutaro #demon slayer gyutaro #gyutaro #akaza x reader #akaza x y/n #akaza x you #kokushibo x reader #kokushibo x y/n #kokushibo x you #douma x reader #douma x you #douma x y/n #doma x reader #gyutaro x reader #gyutaro x you #gyutaro x y/n

[chattemagique]

🍼 not yandere!(   ) softly squeezing your slightly inflated cheeks forcing you to swallow his cum cuz he said if you spit it out he's gonna make your ass blue 🍼

tw: blowjob, slapping, use of curse word (bitch), non-con,

author’s note: i’m thinking yan!Kuroo or yan!Tendou, however you can choose a character you want; female reader

all characters are 18+

  looking straight into your eyes neither allowing you to look away nor spit it out teaching you to be his good girl, his keeper      

you've been such a bad girl lately. throwing tantrums everyday, refusing to eat and spoiling the food, calling him dirty names, begging him to let you go.

wellp, he fulfilled your wish and showed you the dirty.   

it was so sudden. when you thought that he was about to try to comfort or hug you as usual, the man's tender smile was twisted by a cold, sadistic expression. the one that tells that he's had enough. 

his strong arm grabbed your hair while the other, when you still hadn't fully realized what happened, twisted your arm to clutch them both together. he pushed you against the wall the left cheek snuggling up to it. his grip isn't merciful at all. definitely not the same as it was when he was (or tried) cuddling you in bed or when he tenderly squeezed your cheeks and lifted your chin to look up at him. the grip that was strong enough to hold a feral dog. only you didn't even had enough time to struggle as you felt the hard pressure against your wrists. he might as well break them    

"I'm so fed up with your tantrums, bitch.Why do you have to be such a brat?When you can literally have everything you want in exchange for just staying with me". 

you weren't crying before, but as soon as he pushed you against the wall, the tears fell down your cheeks immediately."Y'know, maybe I'm a pervert indeed."    you had your hands tied behind your back and he roughly pushed you on your knees, your face almost touching the ground. you could hear the belt getting unfastened and the pants getting unzipped. he slid down his boxers, revealing his fully erect cock. he surprised himself at how fast he got excited about such thing. you were, as usual, the cause of his erection. even when you were at your worst, you still aroused him as fuck. your pink/black, teary face, your curls that got soaked in your excretion and stuck to your cheek, your shiny, puppy eyes that look up at him, your breasts that are visible to him from this angle. 

and he still loves you, just this time the impulses went overboard.   

"Since you're acting like a bad girl, I'm gonna show you how bad girls are treated." he moved your face closer to his manhood, his hand seizing your hair. since you have most likely got a bruise on your head from hitting the wall, you decided not to resist. slicky, warm tongue traveling around the tip, your lips tried to embrace the head of his dick, but it seems that he's impatient enough to shove it down your throat. you slightly bit his dick out of suddenness, to which he slapped your cheek. "Teeth," he strictly commented. your mouth was full. his dick felt so large in your mouth, you never imagined that you could take him in, even your vagina sometimes struggled to do so. tongue tracing around the cock in the soft, warm environment. you weren't exactly sure how to do it properly, so he overtook the control and took you by the hair. grip being looser but still firm, unwilling to hurt you, he slowly moved your head back and forth. making eye contact with each other.

gosh, if you're gonna continue to be this adorable, he won't ever take his dick out of your mouth.  gradually he increased the speed. you've got more familiar with his cock in your mouth so you're actually started sucking it. between times, you were choking on it and a small grin appeared on his face. his teaching phase quickly escalated to a wild one. the tears appeared on your eyes again. your face was hitting his crotch or rather his hands would hit your face against his crotch. his phase became insanely fast. your tongue wasn't able to work anymore, your eyes rolled back. he noticed your oblivious state, and that's why he decided to come into your mouth. semen filling up your cheeks and sliding down your throat. some of it was still in your mouth, sticking to your tongue and teeth. it felt like vomiting.

"Now, don't you dare spit it out. Of course, if you don't want another punishment, It won't be as enjoyable and nutritious as this one though." 

since you've been quite rebellious the last few days, you haven't eaten anything for four days. the substance that's in your mouth wasn't amongst the tasty ones, even for your hungry stomach. although there wasn't much, your cheeks were slightly inflated. he lifted your chin, making direct eye contact and softly squeezing your cheeks, forcing you to swallow. eyes in the eyes. you did it. and opened your mouth for a proof. just like his good girl, who's supposed to listen to him, to get taken care of by him, to be around him, to be his.

"If you continue your little rebel, I might feed you like this for breakfast, lunch, and dinner," he gave you a cheeky smile. "Now that you've taken well your punishment and been good for once, how about we order a takeout with [your fav food]?"

#yandere haikyuu #haikyuu yandere #yandere #hq yandere #yandere smut #yandere kuroo x reader #yandere kuroo tetsuro #yandere kuroo #yandere tendou #yandere bnha #yandere tendo #haikyuu smut #yandere x reader #yandere x y/n #yandere oneshot #yandere scenario #yandere bakugou #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo tetsurou x reader #kuroo smut #kuroo tetsurou smut #tendo x reader #tendou satori x reader

[arthurcantsleep]

Dream wasn't sure if this was a memory too intimate and private for him, but Hob had said he was always welcome in his dreams.

And yet, looking at Hob, who was chasing his young child around a large green field with the brightest smile on his face, he felt he shouldn't be here.

His child, no older than eight, with a mop of messy brown hair, was laughing as his father scooped him into his arms. Hob, in jeans and cable knit sweater that are much too modern for this setting, is smiling so wide it's making the whole dream brighter.

"Dream?" Hob asks, still smiling as he sets his son down. "Go see your mother, Robyn," he tells his son who runs off towards a house that wasn't there a moment ago.

"I didn't mean to interrupt," Dream says because his heart aches.

"Don't worry about it," Hob says, his smile turning a little sad at the edges. "I've dreamt of them a lot over the years and I'll dream of them again." His hands go into his pockets.

"Do you ever wish to join them?" And Dream doesn't mean it in the way he has always asked.

"I don't know." The wind picks up and it gets a little bit colder, a little cloudier. "I don't want to die. I love being here, with you. I do miss them, though. And I feel a bit like I'm abandoning them, leaving them to continue living."

"Did they know?"

"the funny thing is, I can't remember." Hob sounds sad, and his smile has turned watery. "Memories and dreams and regrets all start to muddle together after a while. I like to think I told them, Robyn at least. Can't know for sure though. One would think I would remember telling my wife that I couldn't die."

"I can leave, if you prefer to have more time with them." Dream offers because he wants to do something to ease the heartbreak that is filling the air around them. Ease some of Hob's pain.

"That's alright, love. I can't even remember what Eleanor looks like, I'm afraid. Sometimes I can almost remember her voice or a hint of her perfume, but I can't remember what color her eyes were or her smile. I mostly dream of Robyn these days."

The scene around them changed. The grass under them turned to wood floors, walls rose around them, and the sun light turned into warm torchlight.

A tavern.

A young man, barely twenty, came barreling in the doors. His smile wide and familiar and the same mop of messy brown curls on his head, now long enough to touch his shoulders. He has the same sparkle in his eye that Hob does and it makes something twist in Dream.

"Papa, you'll never believe it!" Robyn says, his voice cheerful against the growing anxiety thick in the air.

"This was a week before Eleanor died. Two before he did." Hob tells Dream, before turning to his son with a smile. "What are you on about, my boy?"

"I've done it! Abram said I could join him and his crew to Hibernia! Isn't that wonderful?"

"of course, Robyn, I'm so proud of you," Hob tells him, and he is smiling but there are a steady stream of tears falling from his eyes. Dream remembers what comfort he sought when his son died, and he places his hand on Hob's back.

"It never hurts less, but you learn to carry it " Hob whispers as the dream starts to fade.

"I can take them." Dream offers, pulling Hob closer. "Give you dreams free of pain. Dreams that don't remind you of this."

"thank you, Dear, but I think-," Hob turned to Dream, his smile soft and his eyes wet, and he placed his hand on Dream's cheek. "I think I need to remember them this way. To remember how fragile life is. To remember how painful it can be."

He was waking up. Slowly, the world was fading, but Hob's hand on his cheek stayed firm.

"Have to remember the bad with the good y'know?"

And he was gone.

#dream of the endless #dreamling #the sandman #dream x hob #morpheus #hob gadling #hob x dream #robyn gadling #hob missing his son #i made myself sad #fanfiction #fanfic #i don't know man #be sad with me