#for years I thought it was a walking dead spin off

[killsatoru]

Part Two : Mistakes With Rings: Gojo Satoru

Pairing : Gojo Satoru x fem! reader

Warning(s) : Cursing, Death, reader is a Itadori

Summary : Thrown into a loveless marriage, but what happens when your husband asks you for an open marriage?

Part One

-

Our honeymoon. Was empty. only a small smile was exchanged through the whole trip. no hand holding, no hugging, no kissing.

Nothing.

Absolutely Nothing.

-

Back home the arrangements were set to live together.

Was it so weird for a married couple to live apart?

“We can have separate rooms.”

“Ok.” What else was I supposed to say?

Isn’t sleeping in separate rooms also weird?

In a cold empty room. Which was once a guest room. Now, it was called my room.

Sigh

The maids whisper among themselves.

“Poor Mrs. Gojo!”

“How can Mr. Gojo be so cruel!”

“I heard they were arranged.”

“I heard Mr. Gojo might have a mistress already!”

“Poor Mrs. Gojo…”

-

“Y/N!” My older brothers call out

“Jin. Sukuna. It’s nice to see you two.”

“What’s with the long face? Is it that asshole!? I swear I'll ruin that pretty face of his!” A stern look comes across my brother’s face

laughing

“No! No it’s not him I just miss you guys! How is Yuji by the way, Jin? changing the subject is for the best

“He’s amazing! Wanna see some pictures!” pulling out his phone to show pictures

“That brat! He has too much energy! I say we put him in a sport!” A proud smirk on his face

“Maybe putting him in basketball! or even Baseball!” I suggest excitedly.

-

“Bye Y/N! Take care, say hi to Satoru for me!”

“Tell him he better be treating you right!”

“I will, bye you two take care!”

To think that would be the last time all three of us would ever be together.

-

While taking a walk around the large garden. My phone goes off.

Ring Ring Ring

A hospital?

‘Strange, why would a hospital call me?’

“Hello?”

“Yes, This is Y/N Itadori.”

The world Spinning. The urge to puke was strong. The tears slipped out. My breathing out of control.

“I’ll be there shortly” sprinting inside passing by the maids in the kitchen and living.

There Gojo Satoru stood blocking my exit.

“Hey Y/N-“

Running past him.

Ignoring Gojo. Running to my car. was I even in the right headspace to drive. It doesn’t matter. I need to be there.

-

Sprinting to the counter

“I am here to see Jin Itadori. He’s my brother.”

-

“Y/N.” placing his head between his hands.

“Father. how is he.” Fear laced in my voice

“Y/N. I am so sorry. I am so sorry” Trembling.

In the years I have been alive, my father had never cried in front of me.

In the years I have been alive I would've never thought this day would come. Especially not like this.

“Jin is dead”

-

To think I would be burying my brother this early.

My nephew Yuji Itadori is still too young. why? Jin, why?

“Y/N. Let’s go.” My brother Sukuna pulled me away and took me to a house that wasn’t my home. to a man that wasn’t mine.

-

“You should eat Mrs. Gojo.” all the maids gave me concern looks

It had already been 2 weeks. Yuji in a week will be under my care. I have to guide him through all of this.

Haven’t seen my husband. Haven’t eaten well. Haven’t slept well either.

Moving out of this unreasonably huge house. is for the better. Maybe a small apartment with just Yuji and I, will clear my head. To avoid seeing the maids that take pity on me. To avoid seeing my Husband.

-

I grew the courage to call Gojo.

‘If I don’t do this now. I’ll never do it.’

“Gojo, I wish to speak to you.”

“You are speaking to me right now go ahead”

“In person. This is important.”

Sigh “Fine, I'm almost done with work, i’ll be there soon.”

-

“What is it that you wish to speak about?” his voice was demanding. annoyed even.

Now seated in the living room. The maids long gone. The only noise in the house is the faint sound of the television.

“I wish to move out.” Trying to sound as nonchalant as possible

“What! why?” Irritation seeping into his voice

“This house is too big for me. I wish to move to an apartment. I am just telling you, so that you don’t think I ran away.”

“So it doesn’t matter if I say no.”

“Then I guess you can consider it as running away then.”

“Fine. If that is what you want.”

-

“AUNTIEEE” A little boy running to me with sparkles in his eyes

“MY LOVEEE!” embracing him, drowning him in kisses

Giggling “Auntie Auntie! Am I really going to live with you!”

Putting on a front. He’s still too young. I won’t ruin his childhood. When he’s older i’ll tell him. But for now i’ll do this.

“Yes, my love! we’ll have so much fun together!”

“YAYYY! I can’t wait! will uncle Sukuna visit us!”

“Yes he’ll come from time to time!”

-

I am away from the man who has the label as my husband. Who has given me his last name. where the only kiss and embrace we have shared thus far was at our wedding ceremony.

-

4 Years have passed now.

4 years since my brother passed away.

4 years since I've moved out of that suffocating house.

Within that span of that time I haven’t seen that man much. We’ve only seen eachother because we work in the same company, not because of our own will.

Though we are married. I never fully claimed the last name he gave me. I don’t claim myself as Gojo. only Itadori.

From what I've seen he doesn’t wear his wedding ring.

So I don’t wear mine.

-

Ring Ring Ring

“Itadori Speaking”

“Ms. Itadori! The meeting with Mr. and Mrs. Fushiguro isn’t going well. They need back up.”

“I’m on my way.”

-

“Heard they sent back up for us.”

“He was so pissed for no reason ugh” Massaging her temple

“I hate people like him. so stuck up for no reason.”

The clicking of heels can be heard echoing through the hallway. In one hand was documents of what Mr. and Mrs. Fushiguro will be agreeing on once entering the room.

“You three wait in the car. I got it from here.”

“WHOA! Ms. Itadori is amazing!”

“A total lifesaver!”

“A true angel!”

30 minutes have passed.

“Do you think everything’s alright in there?”

“If we don’t get the agreement Mr. Gojo will be mad!”

“Ugh, hopefully everything is going well.”

Tap Tap

“It went well! Don’t worry i’ll be the one meeting Mr. Gojo, you three.” smiling warmly at them

“KYAHHH MS. ITADORI YOU'RE AMAZINGG!!”

-

“Ms. Itadori your meeting with Mr. Gojo.”

“Thank you for reminding me.”

I would be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous to face him alone. When we would see eachother it would be in a room full of other staff, other high powered authorities, and even our parents.

Never alone.

Knock Knock

“Come in” He calls out

‘Calm down Y/N.’

Opening the door to his office.

“Mr. Gojo.” Bowing slightly.

Thank you for the support on Part One I really appreciate it! This one was a little difficult for me because I struggled with wording (That’s why there’s a time skip sorry!). Anyways, Thank you guys for reading!

Tag List

@cocolawd @kalopsia-flaneur @megumisthirdog @cyzvx

#gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo smut #jjk gojo #jujustsu kaisen x reader #gojo x y/n #jujutsu gojo #eventual smut

[thoughtofadumbteenprotagonist]

#I do not watch the last of us #I barely know what it is #for years I thought it was a walking dead spin off #but fucking gif sets of that scene #have been all over my fyp #and I have so many daddy issues #so *gestures vaguely to my subpar meme* #the last of us #tlou hbo #pedro pascal #sorry I have no idea who anyone else in the show is #wright writes #it’s okay it’s okay baby girl

[postmortemnivis]

no grave can hold my body down, i'll crawl home to her.

simon really meant it, every bit of it, he’d come back to you somehow. he would find his way back to you. wether it was walking through the front door quietly not to wake you up in the middle of the night or cold in a coffin. he’d rather have you hold his dead body than not to have you touch his skin ever again.

that’s what simon was thinking about as his ear ringed so loud he couldn’t focus on his surroundings. he looked up at the sky, so blue it almost didn’t feel right. why so blue when so much blood was being shed?

he occasionally would feel the ground he was laying on tremble, maybe a hand grenade, maybe a body falling next to his. the smell of gunpowder filled his covered nostrils and he could feel his lungs collapsing on themselves from the thickness of the air he was breathing. his eyes weren’t doing good either, filled with dust and sand from the dry earth.

it took him a few more seconds to focus his eyes on something, something that possibly wasn’t moving, his head spinning each time he tried to sit up. something was weighting on his legs, holding him down. he struggled to raise his torso and groaned at the sight of a large body blocking him. he let himself fall back down.

he was ready to go, a sharp pain to his side telling him he wouldn’t last long alone. he’d been through worse, way worse, the scar provided by the meat hook was proof of that, but something was telling him this was as bad. he was ready to go.

the only thing he could think about in his last moments was you. he thought he could see glimpses of you, maybe your hair in the corner of his eyes or he’d hear your laugh as another fire shooting started. his eyes searched for you frantically. he wanted to tell you to leave immediately, scream it at the top of his lungs, but his voice was caught in his throat and you weren’t really there. his mind just playing cruel tricks on him.

your name was repeated like a mantra in his head, repeating it so many times it almost lost a meaning. almost. a prayer, a chant. he sure needed to pray, for you.

he had been shelving the thought that tormented him for months. he wanted to go and confess his sins, he almost felt the need, his palms itching with haste anytime he thought about it. years had passed since the last time he had set foot in a church, so many that he had almost forgotten the reason for the visit. the ghosts of the past never abandon you, especially if they are people you love, especially if they are family, the innocent. its always the innocent who pay the highest price.

‘i wonder what she’s doing now, who’s gonna knock on her door and tell her im gone.’ he thought. ‘hopefully price. he’s the one with tact and the most considerate. he’ll help her when i’m gone, keep an eye on her.’

the sweet smell of your hair replaced for a moment the one of blood and gunpowder, your laughter still echoing in his ears. he pictured your sweet face and big innocent eyes looking up at him.

“promise me something?”

“mhm?” he hummed, surprised you were still up. his hand hadn’t stopped caressing your hair since you laid down on his chest, your hand resting on his collarbone as your ear listened to his calm heartbeat. “yeah, anything.”

“promise me you’ll always come back.” you whispered in the dark room. “promise me, simon.”

he nodded, taken aback by your request. you weren’t the fondest of his job, he knew it, he hated to concern you like he did.

“yes.”

“promise.” you urged. “please.”

he bent his head down and kissed the top of yours, his arm sliding down your back and drawing you closer by your waist. “i will, love. i’ll always come back to you.”

you sighed, the knot of thoughts in your worried head began to untie. “mh.”

“better now?” he softly asked. his voice was hoarse from his constant shouting orders at the obstreperous recruits. you gave a short nod. “i mean it.”

he groaned as he managed to get the body off of himself, struggling to get on his knees.

fucks sake, he couldn’t let you live with him gone like this. it was selfish of him to leave you in such an abrupt way, really. he tried to push away the image of you opening the door to find price with a carton box filled with simons stuff from the barracks with the balaclava and skull mask on top and your knees hitting the floor before he could even say anything.

his legs didn’t feel like they could hold his weight up, he immediately fell to his knees as he heard another rapid fire too near him for his liking. his gun was long gone, he had to manage to survive alone, again.

“crawlin’ it is.” he breathed as he started to drag his tired body with the strength of his arms alone. you had always praised his strength: he could lift you with one arm alone, you loved to be held and hold on to his arm anywhere and at anytime. that was the main reason he always pushed for more while training, and the motivation your sweet compliments always gave him now were gonna save his life. he made a mental note to kiss and hold you a little longer and tighter if he ever made it home alive.

he could see the building his team was supposed to meet up in case things got bad. it looked so far away that it was alarmingly close. maybe it was just his messed up vision, a mirage, but he could swear he saw you from a window looking at him, urgently motioning him to come.

he brought the thick balaclava above his nose so he could breathe better and as enemy gunfire continued to flow, he kept his head low as he moved dead bodies from his way.

he could hear your voice calling for him and he wanted to call you for you back, but the noises of the battlefield were hurrying him to get to the safe zone first.

he stumbled by the door as he brought himself up, one hand stabilizing him as he held on to the doorframe as the other went to press on his wound.

“lt!” johnnys voice called before he rushed to help him. “ye cheeky bastard, i told them not to leave yet, to wait for ye.”

“gaz saw you get shot.” price swung simon’s arm over his shoulder in order to help him to the nearest table, where he laid down.

“he saw that right.” simon bit the inside of his cheek as price inspected his wound, pressing on it. “is he a‘ight?”

“he’s fine, hit his head but had his helmet on, he’s getting checked out by the medics.” price informed him as simon winced at the sharp pain. “there’s at least two bullets in here, didn’t pass through, stuck.”

“just take ‘em the fuck out.” simon groaned. “how’s it lookin’?”

“you’ll live.” price patted his shoulder in comfort before he went to call a medic.

“we really thought we’d lost ye there, lt.” johnny’s face was glowing with sweat and blood, the black war paint smudged messily all around his face and his mohawk dusted.

“helicopter’s leaving in thirty, boys!” price’s baritone voice called from the other room.

simon scoffed, sighing and closing his eyes, finally letting himself relax as your figure started to fade from the corner of the room where it’d been standing, silently looking at him. “won’t lose me, can’t wait to go home, johnny.”

#simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simons a loverboy at heart #simon is not ghost

[suugarbabe]

Softer Side

Pairing: Mattheo Ridde x Ravenclaw y/n

Warning: Fluff

When others asked, you told them you weren’t sure when it happened. You weren’t sure when you stopped thinking Mattheo was just an ignorant prick and instead started defending him when others brought up his name in conversation. But you knew exactly when it happened, and you wanted to keep it to yourself. You liked being one of the only ones to see the soft side of Mattheo.

You’d seen him straighten up the Slytherin table after the rest of his friends left for class, stacking plates and straightening goblets when he thought no one else was paying attention. You saw him help Madam Pince in the library a few times as well. You swore it was a detention until you heard her thanking him for volunteering his time again at the end of the week. However your favorite soft Mattheo moment was the first time you witnessed it. Whether it was his actions in the moment, or your interaction with him afterwards was an internal debate you continued to have with yourself to this day.

The first was purely on accident. You were cutting through the courtyard to get to transfiguration on time. You were already running late and McGonagall was not going to go easy on you if you showed up after her again. You noticed two students in the corner of the courtyard, a male seemingly having a female pinned against one of the pillars.

As you got closer, you noticed none other than Adrian Pucey trapping a poor third year, whispering in her ear. Her face was contorted in disgust as she tried to squirm away from him. You were about to shout at him to leave her alone when he was suddenly shoved to the ground. You stopped dead in your tracks and watched as Mattheo knelt down next to Pucey, a hand on his throat as he threatened the boy through gritted teeth. “Guys like you are the scum of the fucking earth, Pucey,” he spat. “If I ever see you trap another girl like that again, you’re fucking done for, ya hear me?”

Pucey nodded his head the best he could as Mattheo’s hand was still on his throat, holding him to the ground. Mattheo released him and Pucey quickly got up and scurried away down the nearest corridor. Mattheo stood up, straightening his robes before turning back to the young girl. “Are you okay, darling, did he hurt you?” You had never seen him speak so softly and reassuring to someone before. You had to blink a few times to make sure you were still seeing the same man before you. The girl shook her head no in response before Mattheo patted her shoulder and encouraged her to head to class.

“Well, that was interesting,” you spoke up, slight smirk on your face. Mattheo’s head whipped around at your voice, you could’ve sworn his cheeks were slightly pink as well. He stood still as you walked closer to him. “Who knew big bad Mattheo Riddle would save strangers like a knight in shining armor,” you said, patting his chest mockingly. Mattheo rolled his eyes, “Pucey is walking dragon shit, everyone knows it.” You laughed lightly, nodding in agreement, starting to walk past him but he followed, quickly keeping pace with you as you walked down the corridor.

“Were you at least impressed by my heroic efforts, y/n?” He threw his arm around your shoulder as he walked. It was your turn to roll your eyes, “Oh, yes, Mattheo, I just loved watching you choke out the slimiest member of your house.” You playfully pushed his arm off you as you turned the corner leading to your classroom. He quickly grabbed your hand, spinning you back around to face him, your chests a mere few inches apart.

As you opened your mouth to protest, Mattheo leaned down to whisper in your ear, “Yannow I never pegged Ravenclaws to be into choking, but if you wanna explore that fantasy I can give you my common room password.” Your breath hitched in your throat for a moment before pushing him back. Mattheo just chucked lightly before giving you a wink and a Cheshire grin, disappearing behind the corner.

#mattheo riddle #mattheoxreader #mattheo riddle x reader #Mattheo riddle x y/n #harry potter #slytherclaw #slytherin #ravenclaw

[dantakeyoman]

You Want Your Avatar To Become Fully Na’vi, But Neteyam Is Firmly Against It (SFW / Slight-Angst)

Reader is Fem! Avatar

CW: Angry Neteyam, he means well, he’s just scared :’), reader is in her avatar body during argument, things for the humans of Pandora aren’t doing so great, this was NOT meant to take this long, i dont think this came out well

“Absolutely not! It is out of the question!” Neteyam harshly dismissed, turning his back on you.

“Neteyam, you are only looking at the possible downsides. I-.” “I do not find your death a downside, (y/n),” he cut off, whipping back around in anger.

He could not believe you were suggesting this, knowing how he felt about the subject.

You wanted to make the change, to ask Eywa to bond your human soul with your Na’vi avatar.

But there was no guarantee that the Great Mother would accept this request. 

In fact, it was highly likely that she would deny it, taking you to join her sooner than planned.

Like so many had before you.

“Well, living in my human body is not much different from death, is it?” you huffed, angrily crossing your arms.

“Do not talk like that,” Neteyam glared, pointing a warning finger at you, saying Eywa forbid in his head for good measure.

“It’s true! I am a human, Neteyam! Living on a planet where anything and everything can kill me! My bones aren’t reinforced with carbon like you!” you burst, throwing your hands up in frustration.

“All it takes is one misstep, one wrong move, one place I’m in at the wrong time. And I’m done. Finished.”

“I will protect you, then! But there is no way I can let you go through with this!” Neteyam exclaimed, his eyes having the tiniest flicker of...something.

It was fear.

This conversation was truly frightening him. 

You seemed dead set on this, not budging a single inch even after the screaming match you two had been having for the past hour.

“There is no guarantee that you will survive the transfer.”

“There is no guarantee that you will be there every time I need saving,” you countered, sharply.

“I WILL BE!”

“BUT WHAT IF YOU WON-?!”

“KEHE!” he loudly hissed, silencing you mid-sentence.

You looked at him, blankly. Shocked.

He had never hissed at you before.

“I will not listen to this any longer,” he said darkly, turning around and getting ready to walk out.

You could not let the argument end like this. 

And you knew you had to share with him what you had found out from the scientists.

"There’s been talk, Neteyam,” you started, the Na’vi boy stopping in his tracks.

He was listening.

“I overheard Norm and Max talking about the oxygen tanks that were left over from the first Great War. They said that they can only last for so long. And with no way to replenish them, they’re guessing we only have about a year and a half of air left before it completely runs out.”

Neteyam’s eyes shot wide as he turned around, looking at you nervously.

Fearfully.

“That is why I have been so persistent with this. If I do not make the transfer, I will either be sent back to Earth-.” You paused, swallowing the lump in your throat.

“Or I will die.”

The horrible word sent Neteyam’s head spinning, his mind already coming up with images of you laying on the forest ground, gasping for air that was no longer there.

Both options were unbearable.

Your death was obviously out of the question. But going back to Earth? 

He’d never see you again. 

You’d go back to living with your people. And no doubt some human man would try to sweep you off your feet.

The very thought made his blood boil, and his heart burn.

Not you. Not his love.

He didn’t think he could physically function without you by his side.

Who would braid his hair? Who would cuddle him when he was tired? Who would help patch his wounds after battle?

The poor boy was so lost in his imaginary grief, that he didn’t even notice to walk up to him, until you cupped his cheek in your hand.

“Do you see now? The choice is death now, or death later-.” “Please,” Neteyam stopped you, pleadingly, his voice cracking as he rested his forehead on yours.

“Do not speak like that. Do not bring those pictures into my head.”

You sighed, allowing your thumb to caress his cheek as you placed a feather-light kiss on his lips.

“I will not go through it without your blessing, my Neteyam,” you assured, giving him a sad smile.

If Neteyam did not feel comfortable with you making the transition, then you would respect his wishes. 

Neteyam took a deep breath, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you into a tight hug.

“You promise you will come back to me?” he asked, muffled as he lowered his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent.

You cheesed, a small chuckle escaping your lips.

“I do not believe Eywa brought us together if she did not plan for me to.”

...

“Tìng mikun ayoheru rutxe, ma Nawma Sa’nok!” Mo’at exclaimed to the People, the Sully family, and the entire clan connected to the Soul Tree.

“Srung si poeru, ma Eywa,” the clan chanted in unison, the bioluminescent ground pulsing on beat.

You, and your avatar body, lay naked at the base of the tree, unconscious as the undergrowth made tsaheylu with the nape of both your necks.

Neteyam kneeled nervously before you, saying his own quiet prayer to Eywa for your good health.

To everyone else, he seemed surprisingly calm about this, as if the whole ceremony didn’t faze him in the slightest.

But on the inside, he was on the verge of a mental breakdown.

If you were to die, he didn’t think he could take it.

He wasn’t strong enough.

When he watched the beautiful eyes of your human body shut, it felt as if his heart was being ripped out.

What if that was the last time he could look into them? 

His hands shook as he continued, the only one seeming to notice being his mother.

She knew how she felt.

She was in his exact place at one time. Years ago.

“Pori tireati, munge mì nga,” Mo’at walked over to your human body, shaking her hands above you.

“Srung si poeru, ma Eywa,” the clan chanted in unison.

“ulte tìng ayoer nì’eyng ngeyä ya!” she shifted to your avatar, shaking her hands above her as well.

“Srung si poeru, ma Eywa,” the clan chanted in unison.

“Tivìran po ayoekip,” Mo’at held her hands up to the air.

“Srung si poeru, ma Eywa,” the clan chanted in unison.

“Na Na’viyä hapxì!” she shouted, whipping her hands out to the People.

“Eo Eywa oe’ia. Eo Eywa oe’ia. Eo Eywa oe’ia.”

Mo’at’s eyes rolled in the back of her head as she continued to chant, Neteyam practically sweating bullets.

It’d be quite a funny sight if the stakes weren’t so high.

“Lu hasey!” she shouted, silencing the crowd.

The ceremony was done.

Quickly, Neteyam crouched over you, carefully removing the oxygen mask from your face and placing it next to you.

He leaned down, placing two, gentle kisses on each of your eyelids.

You looked so peaceful.

Moving over to your avatar, he carefully caressed her face, looking down at her so lovingly.

Don’t get him wrong, your human body was beautiful. One of the prettiest he’s ever seen.

But when it came to your avatar.....well....let’s just say your features, and a Na’vi woman’s features, mix very well.

“Please wake up, my love. I am right here. I am waiting for you,” he encouraged, raising your hand to his cheek as he sadly smiled.

He knew passing through the Eye of Eywa was very tiring, but he would be there to cheer you on the whole way.

And just like that, you gasped, your eyes snapping open.

The entire clan went up in uproarious cheers.

This was the first time the transfer had worked in a long time.

“My (y/n)!” Neteyam sighed, relieved as he pulled you into a bone-crushing hug.

He was at the brink of tears.

He was so, so proud of you.

That’s right. His soon-to-be mate was the one that survived. 

She was a strong, beautiful, and tough woman, Na’vi or not.

“It....worked!” you looked down at yourself, turning over your hands to get a good look at them.

I had truly worked. You were Na’vi now.

And you had seen Eywa.

Oh, she was so gorgeous. Her beauty was divine, and beyond complete comprehension, but she was still soft and kind, like that of a mother.

You would have to tell Neteyam all about it when you got a chance.

Speak of the devil.

“Neteyam!” you squealed as the boy quickly scooped you up bridal style, turning to the clan with a smirk on his face.

“AUAUAUAUAUAUAUAU!” he ululated happily, holding you close as he paraded you down the aisle, his smile nearly blinding you.

You laughed, wrapping our arms around his neck as the people of the clan cheered, some letting out their own shouts of joy.

As you two approached his ikran, you smirked, sitting yourself down on the saddle.

“I told you I would make it back,” you teased, earning a playful eye roll from the warrior as he hopped on behind you.

“I am happy you proved me wrong,” he smirked, turning your chin with his thumb and index, landing a passionate kiss on your lips.

It was the type to leave you breathless when you separated.

Which it did.

As you stared at him, stupidly...lovingly. He smiled, a small chuckle escaping his lips.

“What am I going to do with you?”

...

taglist !!

@vane28282, @remutoast, @p1nkprint, @ladyorchidia, @anthonys-viscountess, @karmz-7319, @cantbuysophialove, @scarabruhs, @an0th3rsss, @deloe18, @mariiyoushi, @av1xar, @alexxcorona113, @may-and-lay, @overlyfancybreakfastfoods, @harshita-hiranyamayi, @qui-02, @myheartfollower, @morks-watermelon, @bangtanxberm

#avatar #avatar 2 #avatar the way of water #na'vi x reader #na'vi x y/n #neteyam x reader #neteyam x y/n #neteyam fluff #omitacaya #atwow x reader #atwow

[sophiethewitch1]

What We Want - Chpt. 3 - Dreams And...

In Which A Romantic Breaks The Universe

(Yandere!batboys x f!reader) 18+ MDNI!

SUMMARY

Another lonely birthday, another empty year. You miss your family. You're late for your bills and rent, and even then, you got robbed last Tuesday.

Still, you buy yourself a cupcake, because you need it. I mean, hey. What's dessert for if not to get over cheating boyfriends and dead relatives?

As you blow out the candle, watching the clock switch from 11:59 pm to midnight of the next day, you make a wish.

And because the world doesn't like to make much sense, it comes true. Your life is suddenly flipped on a dime, and you're stuck trying to catch up with it. Fantasy becomes reality. You're a Wayne now, apparently. Or you used to be. You're loved, you're rich, you're talented and powerful.

Well, sort of. Careful what you wish for, right?

(TRIGGER WARNINGS AND MASTERLIST HERE) - PLEASE REMEMBER TO CHECK, THIS CHAPTER IS DARKER IN TONE!

PREV - NEXT

Your hands are pruned. It’s quiet in the extravagant bathroom, other than the sound of the tap’s running water and your own shaky breathing. This was all a bit much. Your hands are more than clean now, but you absolutely do not want to go back out there.

You kind of just want to go back into one of the stalls and cry. A core girlhood experience, except you were an adult with a job and taxes. Or, you were. You think you’re some rich scion or something in this dream. Which like, cool, who wants to slave under capitalism anyways?

…You wonder if anyone would notice if you slipped out the window. You’d been gone for a while and nobody had come looking for you, since you’d totally gotten lost trying to find the bathroom. Sure, you were on the third floor, but at this point you were willing to risk it. Even if you couldn’t walk in a straight line right now, much less climb the trellises. For some reason, you could not handle your liquor today like you usually could. But once again, this was all just a very vivid dream, so it wasn’t like you could die.

To punctuate that thought, you hear someone scream.

It cuts off instantly, and then there’s quiet again. You pause, then turn off the tap, listening for any more sound. Drip, drip, drip… you press the tap down again and properly turn it off. Still no noise. Immediately, you realise you are standing directly in a horror film. You live in Gotham for fuck’s sake. It wasn’t an unlikely occurrence. You’d gotten mugged just a few days ago.

And you were alone in the bathrooms. So unbelievably drunk, and alone in the bathrooms. You were actually so dead, it was crazy. A dream, a dream…!

Your head bows, staring into the white porcelain of the sink as you focus hard on your hearing. You don’t think you could hear the party before, but you’re not sure. It’s definitely not there now. You swallow the dry pain in your throat, trying to summon a modicum of courage. Your vision spins.

You slap your wet hands to your face and then blink through your fingers. God. Okay, okay, okay. You can do this. You survived a mugging just last week with only minimal bruising. To convince yourself of your badassery, you dig your fingers into the blemishes, hoping to wake yourself up with the pain. It’s a bad habit but you have lots of those.

…Where’s the pain? Oh god, where’s the pain? Wait, don’t panic, it’s a dream! Of course, you wouldn’t have your bruises in a dream. That made total sense. And you definitely weren’t panicking.

You splash more water on your face. Time to face the music, you drunken moron. If you were going to be in a horror movie, you’d be the final girl of all final girls.

One hand on the sink, you take your heels off. They’re going to get in the way, and the sound of them clicking against the marble will give away your location. Massaging your sore ankles, you try and come up with a game plan. You don’t know what’s going on, and it really could all just be a false alarm, but better safe than sorry and all that. It’s a gala full of some of the richest people on earth, and you’re pretty sure you saw a swat team of security guards at the entrance.

So this was probably a hostage situation or a villain attack. You’d hear more noise if it was a supervillain fighting a superhero downstairs. Then you’ll bet on a hostage situation for now. Depending on who had taken you all hostage, that could be a totally fine situation where you all just end up leaving with lighter purses, or it could be the Scarecrow’s shown up and he’s about to mentally traumatise you. Like you needed any more of that.

Of course, this was all probably still a dream. Maybe if you say it enough times you’ll actually believe it. You’ll just plan ahead in case this is real (which it definitely isn’t). Plus you’d proven you could feel pain in this dream anyway, with all the times you’d slapped yourself. You hoped the fucking Tim Drake didn’t think you were too weird. Because he definitely thought you were weird.

It’s cool. You’re cool. You could handle this. You were a Gotham native after all. Totally cool. You have to force yourself not to gag on your own fear. Totally, absolutely, terrifically cool.

A few deep, calming breaths later, and you’re cracking the door of the lavatory open just an inch. You peer through the crevice, taking another deep breath when you don’t see anyone in the hallway. You push the door open a bit wider, peek your head around it to look the other way. Still empty. Another deep breath, you feel your chest rise and fall, and then you take the first step out onto the wooden floors. You wince at the slight noise the bare sole of your foot makes and hurry over to the long Persian rug to snuffle any more sounds.

And then you’re standing in the middle of the hallway in your ballgown, head swivelling back and forth as you try and catch any minuscule sounds, shoulders bunched up to your ears.

The first thing you need to check is the exits. Since you are on the third floor, and the banquet was on the first, you can assume that they’re well-guarded, but probably far away from you. Still, this is the Wayne Enterprises Tower, and there wasn’t just the party happening tonight. It was mostly empty as you’d seen but there’d been a few people you’d wandered past. They’d all seemed like late-night office workers, and the female janitor you’d bumped into was the one who had told you where the toilet was.

Was the janitor okay? Was that her scream you’d heard? Concentrate, dumbass. On airplanes, they tell you to put your mask on first before you do it for anyone else. The idea was the same here. Save yourself before you can hope to save anyone else.

That was… that was if you even needed saving. This could all still just be your own paranoia. Someone hit their knee on a ridiculously fancy side table or something. Like that scream wasn’t of pure terror. Like it didn’t sound like someone on death’s door.

Concentrate! Okay, check the stairs first. Don’t take the elevator, because you’re not an idiot. Maybe. Hopefully. Slowly but surely you creep your way back towards the entrance to the third level, where both the elevator and the stairs were. There was a map, too. You hadn’t been able to figure it out earlier, but you had a bit more incentive this time.

You make sure to place your feet carefully, aiming for the carpets and rugs. Even if your drunken steps miss half the time, you’re still mostly quiet. Every time you have to walk across a crossing you spend a minute listening, and then peer around every corner too. You’re not sure if you should be running, or if you really should try one of the windows.

Deep breaths. Keep moving. That’s the best course of action. Don’t get caught, but don’t just hide either.

It’s when you’re almost at the third-floor foyer when you hear something. There’s a crash, the sound of something breaking. No voices, though. Still, you can’t convince your body to move for a full minute. There’s a part of you that wants to go hide in an abandoned cubicle and wait, but there’s another part of you that is very aware of the rates of fires in this city. You keep going, taking a longer route to avoid the source of the crashing.

Another noise. A scream. Laughter. Spine-chilling laughter.

Shit, motherfucker. Why the hell did you get smashed at a fucking Wayne gala? Everybody knew the rogues of this city were totally obsessively in love with Bruce Wayne. Especially your own personal worst nightmare. You don’t dare even think his name, lest you summon the bastard.

Was he in Arkham right now? He should be. Like you should be at home in the Narrows getting a good night’s rest. Like you should be wearing dorky Flash pyjamas, not a dress more expensive than your rent.

He should be. It’s not nearly enough.

You realise, suddenly, that you have to make a choice here. You can walk away, pretend you didn’t hear anything, that you can’t hear anything. A woman’s cries, you think. You could leave her, save yourself. Hideaway and let whatever fate she’s facing befall her. Could you do that? Could you even stomach the idea?

In the end, the universe makes the decision for you.

“And who do we have here? What’s a pretty little thing like you doing wandering around?”

You hear your doom in his slimy voice, even though you didn’t hear him sneak up on you. Shaking, you raise your hands into the air, and slowly turn around. You see your doom in the twisted clown mask’s grin. For a second you think it’s really him, but then you notice his dark brown hair and the tanned skin under the mask. God, god, god. It’s a Joker goon. Your literal worst nightmare, given flesh. Is he here? No, no, no- You swallow down the urge to scream, to run, and do your best to keep thinking like a person and not a prey animal.

You feel like one. You think he knows that. You hope he doesn’t.

“Hey Travis, I found another one!” the man calls out, raising his gun to point at you. He jerks it, moving forward, and you turn back around obediently. The gun presses against the back of your head, and you move forward, obediently.

“Shithead, don’t say my name out loud!” another voice replies. You get to see its owner when you come around the corner and find the foyer.

There are five other people here, all tied up. Four seem to be exhausted office worker bees, who just stayed too late on the wrong day, and the last is the janitor who helped you. The kind lady gives you terrified eyes, but she’s the only one not crying among the hostages.

“Man, you worry too much. Like there aren’t hundreds of Travis’s in the city.”

“Just shut up, my god! If we leak info and it gets traced back to us, he’s docking our pay.”

Who’s he? Who’s fucking he?! He can’t be here, right? He fucking can’t be. You can’t, you can’t. God, you're going to vomit right here and now.

“Whatever. Anyway, this is the last person on this floor.”

“Check the feed again, dickhead,” the second one commands, obviously the leader between the two.

The one who caught you groans, and then you hear the sound of fabric shuffling. Is he looking at his phone? You wish you could turn around and look. You don’t dare with the barrel against you.

Your teeth dig into the side of your mouth. So did they have the security feeds? That meant you were doomed from the start. The only other option would’ve been to actually jump out one of the windows. They would’ve probably found you anyway. Hunted you down to meet their quota.

Shit. Shit. Shit, shit, shit. This is looking like a big deal. And everybody knew Joker never left out on his big deal jobs, he enjoyed them too much. He’s probably downstairs demanding the Batman come meet him and have tea or something. Shit.

All of a sudden these goons seem like the much better end of the deal.

“Checked, checked, double-checked, triple-checked… There’s nobody else here,” the man behind you grumbles, and the one in front of you sighs.

“Alright, alright. Bring her over, I’ll tie her up, and then we can blow this joint,” the man says, and you really, really hope he’s not being serious about blowing this place. You’d had enough of explosions, thank you very much. Especially ones organised by the Joker.

The gun digs harshly into your skull, “Well, go on.”

Swallow, swallow down your fear. Don’t let it stop you. You walk forward to the other man, arms in the air shaking. When you’re in reaching distance, the second goon roughly grabs you and shoves you to your knees. He pushes your hands in front of you, not bothering to tie them behind you. You don’t know if that’s a good thing or not.

The rope cuts into your skin. It’s going to leave marks, and bruises. The man finishes tying the knot and then pulls you back to your feet. Then he shoves you towards the elevator and turns to start picking up the other hostages. You turn so your back is toward the wall, not willing to have your eyes off the monsters for even a second.

It’s when he’s pushing one of the office workers towards you, that the second man speaks again.

“Hey, the boss said we had to kill one of ‘em.”

What? What did he say?

“Oh yeah, oops.”

The gunshot goes off before you can process the words. Before you can process the gunshot, the janitor’s body is crumpling to the floor. Before you can process her fall, blood is starting to seep from the wound in her chest. Before you can process any of that, the man behind you laughs.

He laughs. He laughs and laughs and laughs.

The janitor lies on the floor, blood seeping into her hair and uniform. You squeeze your eyes tight, tears slipping over the lids. You refuse to look at the wound. At the gaping hole in her chest. And despite yourself, you know why they shot her, not you. Not any of the workers either.

Because she wasn’t worth the cash.

Yesterday, that would’ve been you on the floor. You were a fake wearing a fancy dress, who didn’t belong here at all. Still, they didn’t know that. You didn’t think anybody knew that. Not anyone but you, who had woken up in a world a little to the left.

“I’ll be down in a minute, Trav. I wanna play with this one for a bit,” the shooter says, and all of a sudden you’re thrown back into your body, into your frail mortality. You’re cold, your spine gives a shiver, and your horrified eyes find the wretched clown mask.

Like you said, your doom. You wish you weren’t right all the time.

“No way. She’s one of the high-profilers, we need her,” his leader replies, and you’re desperate to stick by his side. You didn’t think a Joker goon would be your saviour, but here you were.

“I’ll give you five K of my split,” he offers, not willing to let go of it. Of you.

The other one pauses, glances at you assessingly. There’s a glint of something in his eyes, something that tells you you’re not making it out of here unscathed. It’s something you recognise, something you even recognise inside yourself.

It’s greed. And it’s going to kill you. You always knew it would, you just didn’t think it’d be like this.

“Make it seven,” he finally announces, the deal for your soul made without any fuss or fanfare.

“You’re such a hardass. Fine, fine, seven it is.”

“Alright, and only thirty minutes, tops. Not a hair on her head, you understand me?” he says over his shoulder, waggling a finger at his coworker.

The group leaves through the elevator. It dings, and you watch in mute, stunned horror as the other hostages refuse to meet your gaze. As they abandon you to save their own asses. You couldn’t really blame them, as much as you wanted to. You were ready to do the same earlier.

“I think not even a hair is pushing it, right?” the creep says, finger reaching out for said hair. You jerk back out of his reach, an instinctual flinch. He grins, and lets his hand fall back to his side. You take a shaky step backward.

You’re trembling with fear. With the need to get away from this terror, this situation.

He gestures with his gun, pointing back in the direction of the branching hallways.

“Well, go on. Run.”

And God help you, you do.

Spinning on your heel, you flee to the echoing sound of his laughter. Your feet fall rhythmically against the marble floors, the sound of your bare soles far too loud. You can’t even do anything about it. There’s no option for stealth here, only the sort of hunt you’d expect to find in the woods.

Not here in civilised mankind’s territory. But this was Gotham, and the monsters often looked human.

You dart into a large room filled with tiny square cubicles. A call centre or something, a maze of low walls that are too small to hide behind. You keep going, teeth-gritting when his laughter cuts off. He’s taking this seriously, hunting you down. You think he’s done this before. ‘Played’ with people.

You can’t worry about those other poor victims, lest you become his next one.

Another crash, this time to your left. Your head snaps to the side, eyes wide, but when you look there’s only a broken lamp on the floor. You have to swallow down the urge to cry. He is. He’s playing with you. He’s having fun with it.

You keep running, passing by halls and offices and don’t stop running till you can’t. Out of breath. You’re out of breath. You bend over, the stitch in your side too much for you to stand. Why are you out of breath? You can run more than this. You often run more than this when you’re late for your morning train.

What’s going on? What’s happening to you?

A bang, behind you. You spin around. Don’t see anything.

He’s nearby. Right under your nose. You need to keep running, you have to. Through your panting you hear his laughter again, and that’s enough fear to get you moving again. Maybe you were in Arkham, arms strapped to your side and screams wailing down the halls.

You didn’t believe it. No, not in this moment. Not right now, as you run for your life. If you lived through this, you’d probably go back to thinking it was all a dream or a delusion.

But with that monster nearby, there’s nothing this could be but real. With sweat dripping down your neck, smearing your makeup. With the feeling of your heart beating out of your chest, in your ears. With the blind, all-consuming panic you’re in.

He’s real. And he’s coming for you.

You lift your tied hands and press them to your lips, muffling the sound of your harsh breathing and soft sobs. Heart beating out of your ribcage, you push your body even as it screams for you to stop. You’re flagging. Vision’s swimming, and you can feel bile creeping up your throat. You can’t keep doing this. You need to keep doing this.

For a moment, you stop to catch your breath. And he catches you too.

You scream, tugging at the rough grip on him. He swings you around into a wall, and again, you cry out. Side throbbing with pain, singing with it. Still, you don’t stop. Can’t stop. Not safe, not safe, not safe. You push back against him, and he pushes back against you. Your drunken state is no match, and you tumble down onto the carpet. When he laughs, you look up at him, and he down at you.

The goon’s plastic mask merges with the Joker’s mutilated face, until you can’t tell the difference.

You aren’t the type to fight back. It’s just not instinctual to you. But when you hear his belt buckle clack, your foot kicks out before you can even think. You hit him squarely in the stomach, knocking him backward, and then you scramble away from underneath him.

“You bitch!”

He grabs you by the nape of your neck, yanking you backwards. You choke, hands grasping desperately at the grip around your throat, but he offers no relent. You’ve pissed him off. That doesn’t mean you can stop, can give up. You can’t stop fighting. Can’t stop struggling. Can’t stop, can’t stop, can’t stop-

The gun clicks. You freeze.

“Yeah, figured you’d be more obedient if I did that. Now, get up,” his voice is breathy, from the high of the chase or the hit you delivered, you’re not sure.

You hope it’s the latter. You hope this fucker drops and dies, right on the spot. You’re not that lucky, though.

Ah, your hands are hurting again. Not just the one, but both. Maybe you touched something. An allergic reaction of some sort. It shouldn’t be distracting you, it shouldn’t even be noticeable in the situation you’re in but god. The itchy heat is nearly as unbearable as the evil cretin in front of you.

“You think you’re gonna get away with that? I���m so fucking sick and tired of you whores who think you matter anything. You don’t, and I’m going to help you realise that,” he rants. His eyes are red through the tiny slits in the mask. Angry, dangerous, on the edge.

“Please, look I’m sorry,” you stutter out, stinging hands in the air. You want to run, but you think he’ll shoot if you do.

“You’re lucky I don’t fuck corpses.”

No, that doesn’t sound very lucky at all, actually. No, this seems like maybe it might turn out to be the new worst moment of your life. You don’t think it can get much worse than this, than the next moments that will pass. And it’s too much. It’s too, too much. Your palms are itchy and there’s a gun pointed between your eyes and the goon’s licking his lips and oh my god you’re going to die from an allergy before the bullet and-

And you just want it all to stop. You want it so desperately. You want the man in front of you to disappear, to never exist again, to go right down to hell where he belongs. You just want him gone.

Your hands stop hurting. The burning heat disappears. It’s quiet again. You can’t hear him laughing, the awful slick sound of him licking his lips. You can’t feel the cool iron on your forehead, the heat from his body so close. You can’t smell his sweaty stench. Your eyes open.

…There’s no gun. There’s no man.

You crumple to the ground with a relieved sob. Fisted hands lift to your eyes, as big blubbery tears stream down your face. Your shoulders shake with your cries. Your heart is screaming in your chest, trying to beat out of it. He’s gone, somehow. You’re alive, somehow. You’re not dead with a bullet in your brain, somehow. Somehow, somehow, somehow.

An impossibility. It’s an impossibility, and you’re so goddamn grateful for it.

As always, you don’t give yourself long to cry. Even as your tears still fall, even as you lick them off your mouth, tasting salt and lipstick and fear, you push to your feet shakily. You almost fall over with your hands still tied, shouldering the wall next to you for balance. You don’t have time to cry. No time to process what just happened. You need to get to safety.

You creep back into the main area, heart pounding in your ears, breath hiccuping. You don’t know how long it takes for you to get there. Ten minutes, thirty, maybe even an hour. When you try the staircase door, it doesn’t open. You yank on the handle, grab a chair and try and smash it in, but it stands strong. Fuck. You try the elevator as a last-ditch effort, but the buttons don’t respond.

You press your overheated forehead to the cool metal. Okay. Okay. Okay, okay, okay.

You turn around and storm back into the cubicle space, find one at the edge of the room with a clear view of all the doors, and tuck yourself under the desk. Pulling your knees to your chest, you resist the urge to rock yourself like a baby.

And you sit there, and you watch, and you wait. It doesn’t matter how many hours pass, you are not moving from this spot. It doesn’t matter how heavy your lids feel, how the adrenaline leaving your body has you sagging.

You’re not going to sleep. It’s not safe, and you’re not dying today. You’re simply not.\

You’re not allowed to.

-

A hand touches your shoulder, and you snap awake. Your fist slings out at the would-be attacker, but they dodge it smoothly. When you rear up for another, they move back, hands in the air in a show of surrender. Panting, you don’t lower the fist, your vision swimming.

It’s the Joker. But the Joker wouldn’t back up, right? And the Joker isn’t red, he’s green and purple.

It takes a while for the Joker’s pale, laughing face to disappear. But when you blink and he’s gone, you find someone else underneath. A red mask, a man you think you recognise from TV. A vigilante. God, you hated the vigilantes in Gotham.

Not more than the Joker. Not more than him.

The man stays a safe distance away, gloved hands firmly in the air. He’s tall, really tall. Broad-shouldered, scary. But he’s a vigilante, right?

Is he here to save you? Someone should've by now. The bastard's late then.

He says your name, you think. You can’t hear him properly. Wait no, it’s a nickname, one you haven’t heard in years. You could barely remember your mother calling you that as she tucked you in, as she told you she loved you over the phone, as she disappeared from the world entirely.

You hadn’t let anyone call you that since.

How does he know that name? How does this bastard know your name?

“-hurt? Hey, hey. Listen to me, are you hurt anywhere?” his voice is deep and warbled through the red metal mask, his eyes peering down at you through his domino. You just stare at him, eyes wide, barely breathing.

You need to know how he knows. Unconsciously, your hand reaches up to him, and after a moment, he takes it in his own firm grip. It’s awkward, as you’re still sitting half under the desk and he’s trying to stay as far away from you as possible. Still, his hand is warm through the leather, grounding, keeping you from drifting off into panic and fear. Into your worst nightmares come to life.

Because this was real. It didn’t matter that it was impossible, it was real. You simply couldn’t deny it any longer, this was all real.

You stare at this stranger’s gloved hand like it holds the answers to the universe. It might, in the end. It really just might. It wasn’t like the universe was making much sense at the moment.

“She seems fine. Uninjured, if a bit shocked. Doesn’t seem to have a concussion. Hardly responding anyway,” Red Hood speaks, but not to you. An earbud, you think. Superheroes used wiretaps and things like that all the time, right?

If you could even consider Red Hood a superhero. Everybody knew he had his own gang. Of course, even as your very life is being saved, it’s by a morally grey hero who runs around with crowbars and guns. Ah, you’re crying again.

You told yourself a long time ago that you wouldn’t let yourself cry anymore. And you’d managed it, mostly. You think you’ll give yourself a pass for today, just a little one. You hold this stranger’s hand, and you cry.

You just cry. You cry, and you hold the hand of some stranger you hate, because you have to.

MASTERLIST - NEXT

#Series:WWW #yandere batfam #yandere dc #yandere batfamily #yandere x reader #dick grayson x reader #nightwing x reader #jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #tim drake x reader #red robin x reader #damian wayne x reader #robin x reader

[blushweddinggowns]

Wayne loved Eddie more than anything else in this world. That kid was his son, sister and her shit husband be damned, and he had been for almost eight years now.Wayne would do just about anything for that kid, and he liked to think that Eddie knew that by now, so he couldn't quite understand why he was trying to hide something so obvious.

That being whatever was going on between him and the Harrington boy.

The two had been attached at the hip for months, and while Eddie was no stranger to having friends, having one that slept in his bed nearly every night was certainly new. And if that wasn’t a dead giveaway to what was really going on, then all of the touching sure would have been. He had never seen his boy be so tactile with someone before, and that was saying something considering how freely Eddie liked to give out touch. But with Steve? It was like he couldn’t go five minutes without being all over him, whether that be an arm draped around his shoulders, a hand on his thigh, or pressed against his side, if Steve was within arms length, then Eddie was reaching for him.

At first, Wayne worried he was keeping quiet because he was scared of his reaction, but he had been more than clear with Eddie growing up that being different in any way was nothing to be ashamed of, despite what the world may tell you. And Eddie seemed to be living up to that advice in every other aspect of his life, so that couldn't be it.

Then, he thought it was because he knew Wayne didn't like Steve. Or at least used to not like Steve. In hindsight, he was a little ashamed of his mistrust of the kid, but could he really be blamed? It wasn't so long ago that Steve Harrington was on the list of jackasses Eddie would complain about after school, a smarmy smartass just like his father.

But then Eddie went up and almost died, and suddenly Wayne was met face to face with just how much the kid had changed, and just how much the kid loved his Eddie. Slowly but surely, Steve wiggled his way into his good graces.

Like the way he made his boy smile wasn't enough, the kid basically became a live-in nurse during those first few awful months of Eddie’s recovery. And if Wayne thought Eddie was obvious with his feelings, Steve was on a whole other level. The kid was walking around with heart eyes whenever Eddie was around, always giggling like a high-school girl at whatever lame jokes his boy made, always leaning heavily into any touch, always obsessed with wearing his clothes. And as much as the cutesy behavior made Wayne roll his eyes, it also melted his heart a bit, knowing his kid was with someone who loved him just as much, if not more.

He just…wanted Eddie to know he was safe to be himself, both of them were, in any way that was. Eventually Wayne just let it slip, on one of those rare nights when Steve wasn’t there for dinner. He was working a late shift, and as Wayne watched Eddie wrap him up a plate for when he got off, he just let the question fall out of his mouth,“So…you and the Harrington boy huh?”

Eddie almost dropped the plate in surprise, spinning to stare at Wayne with wide eyes, “Huh?”

“You and Steve,” Wayne reiterated, “Not that there’s anything wrong that Eds, really, I don’t care-”

“There’s nothing going on between me and Steve!” Eddie interrupted, face bright as he put the plate down, “Why would you think that?”

Wayne sighed, “Eddie, you don’t got to hide anything from me.”

“I’m not!” Eddie insisted, face still insanely red, “Steve’s great but we’re not-I’m not like that, okay?”

Wayne blinked at him. He knew what his Eddie sounded like when he lied, and this wasn’t it…but Wayne also knew what he saw, and he couldn't help but feel his heart break a bit for Steve. Maybe his boy wasn’t in love with the kid, but Harrington sure as hell was, “My mistake then,”

Eddie gave him a nervous laugh, running a hand through his hair, “You bet it is, really letting that imagination run wild over there huh?

Wayne sighed as he stood up, “But Eddie?"

“Yeah?”

"Try and let him down easy when the time comes." He patted his shoulder as he made his way to his bedroom, already wondering if there was any way he’d be able to help the poor Harrington boy out when his heart got broken, leaving a shell-shocked Eddie in his wake.

Let him down easy when the time comes.

Eddie didn’t know what to do with that. He trusted Wayne, respected him too, but there was no way in hell that Steve felt anything towards him that wasn’t friendship. King Steve wasn’t gay, if anything he was a flaming heterosexual considering his insane number of flings in highschool.

Not to mention the fact that Eddie wasn’t gay, or at least…he didn’t think he was gay. But then again, he wasn’t thinking about much these days that wasn’t Steve, Steve, Steve. But they were best friends, new best friends, so wasn’t that normal? And okay, sure, Eddie had never felt like this for anyone ever before, but that didn't mean it was romantic. And so what if the thought of Steve with a girl made him ill? He was just a needy guy who loved having all the attention on him.

And so what if Steve was objectively attractive? Was it gay to know that a man was pretty or was it just having eyes? And okay, sure, Eddie had had a few wet dreams about him, but dreams didn’t mean anything. Right?

Eddie flopped face down onto his bed, groaning into his pillow. If, on some very off chance that Wayne was right, then he was going to have to put a stop to it wouldn’t he? It’s not like he and Steve could just drive into the sunset together as gay lovers, not in this town. No, Eddie would just have to lay down the law, put up some boundaries, do something to make this relationship make sense, because now that he was actually thinking about it, they were nowhere even close to normal.

Eddie could hear the front door unlocking, the tell-tale sign that Steve was finally home. Eddie wasn’t sure when their shitty trailer had become Steve’s home, but he hoped it stayed that way, even after they managed to put their friendship back into the strictly platonic category.

He kept his face in the pillow, mind racing on how to even start this bizarre conversation when he heard Steve laugh behind him, “What’s got you so dramatic?”

You.

“Wayne,” he mumbled into the fabric, listening to the sounds of Steve puttering around the room. He could tell everything he was doing from the sounds alone, so used to the little night routines they had developed together. He was digging through Eddie’s drawers now, definitely looking for something clean to sleep in.

Shit, would Steve stop wearing his clothes after they talked? Would he stop sleeping in the same bed as him? Eddie was really starting to question the worth of useless things like boundaries if it meant having his Steve around less.

His Steve. Platonic friends didn’t call each other that did they?

Eddie could feel Steve start to crawl onto the bed, laying right beside him, “Are you ever going to come out of there?”

“Never,” Eddie grumbled, because that would mean he would have to look at Steve. He’d have to acknowledge all the stupid shit going through his head and things would change. And he didn’t want things to change.

Steve laughed at that, and Eddie could feel warm hands start to poke at the side of his face, “But what if I want to see you?”

“Then that sucks for you.” Eddie mumbled. He could feel Steve getting closer, close enough that his breath was tickling his face. Close enough that Eddie felt like his heart was going to escape his chest from how hard it was pounding.

“You’re such a shithead,” Steve giggled right into his ear, “Come on, please? I missed you today.”

Eddie sighed, finally turning his head to look at him, only to be met with that stupidly pretty face. Was it legal for men to be this cute? Steve was smiling, the small kind that Eddie was almost sure was just for him, and he was so close. Eddie glanced down at his mouth, realizing it would take almost nothing for them to be kissing.

And from the look on Steve’s face, he just realized the same thing. They stared at each other, all of the playfulness from earlier gone. Steve was biting his lower lip, and Eddie knew that he was watching him stare at it.

“Do you wanna?” Steve finally whispered, leaning in the slightest bit closer, so near that it was making Eddie’s head spin.

This was it right? What Wayne was talking about, the perfect opportunity to let him down easy. He should just sit up, tell Steve to stop joking around, and start talking about what the hell they were even doing.

"Sure," he said instead. Vaguely, in the back of his head Eddie remembered he was supposed to be having reservations about this whole thing as their lips finally met, but whatever they were vanished into thin air the second they touched.

Because kissing Steve Harrington felt fucking amazing.

The thought of saying no? Of never kissing him again? It wasn’t going to happen, not after he'd gotten a taste. Eddie gripped his shirt and pulled him in closer, relishing in the little surprised sound Steve made when he slipped his tongue into his mouth. He wanted to do this forever. He couldn’t even remember what the argument against it was, not when Steve was moaning against him, not when he was too busy scrambling to move and get Steve in his lap, definitely knocking multiple things off the nightstand in the process.

If this is what being gay meant than Eddie was on board, himself from half an hour ago could go to hell.

He should have realized that they were making too much noise, noises that his very protective uncle, who just found out Hell was a real place and it lived below Hawkins, was not used to hearing from his room.

They both jumped when the door slammed opened, a frenzied Wayne standing in the doorway with Steve’s favorite bat over his shoulder, He let it drop at the sight of them, half relieved that they were fine and half shockingly amused to see what they were doing.

Steve tried to scramble out of Eddie’s lap, an apology already on his lips when Wayne started to cackle, “I really let my imagination run wild huh?”

Eddie laughed right along with him, rolling his eyes as he kept an iron tight grip on Steve’s waist, forcing him to stay in place, “You win this round old man,”

“Damn right I do.” Wayne laughed, turning on his heel, “You kids have fun now, just not too much.”

Steve could still hear him cackling as he went down the hall as he sat dumbfounded in Eddie’s lap, “What the hell was that?”

Eddie shrugged, “My uncle approving of us. Now kiss me again.”

And well…there was no way Steve was going to say no to that.

#steddie #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie ficlet #drabble #wayne munson number one ally #i needed a fic where Wayne had to step in and show his dumbass son he's in love #is it gay to be in love with your best friend #yes eddie #yes it is

[itsgrimeytime]

feelin' flirty || Rick Grimes (TWD) x gn!reader

rick grimes taglist: @golden-hoax @mgparker @zomb-1-egutzz

AVAILABLE ON AO3

Summary: Being a long-lost friend of Maggie's, you wind up at the prison, a line of dead walkers behind you. You are promptly confronted with one Rick Grimes, and it's suddenly your life's goal to flirt with him as much as you can. Rick doesn't usually respond, but what if one day he does?

TWs: innuendos, talk of sex, shameless (and I mean shameless) flirting, mention of both Beth and Hershel's deaths, gunshot wound, blood, guns, knives, and all things TWD.

[[A/N: Tumblr has deleted this THREE times. I am furious, hello??? Also, someone should've been hardcore flirting with Rick, I'll say it. That's what this is based on. Do I have social anxiety? Yes, but am I still writing this? I am. Don't ask questions. ALSO, I do not know the TWD timeline at all, so I am making it up, thank you. Enjoy :))) ]]

With one last stab, you finished off the last... zombie? You didn't really call them anything, since you were alone. Maybe you should think about that a little more.

Wordlessly, you turned and stabbed another square in the head. Undead? No. Zombie? No, too cliché-

Another one.

It went on like that for a few more minutes, before you took a breath -with no answer to your question. Frowning at your knife being covered in... guts, for lack of a better word, you crouched down and wiped it on the grass.

What was that, 15? You didn't really count, but you should have. You were trying to get a new personal best actually-

"Hey!"

You froze, pocketing your knife, before spinning on your heel. The voice was fairly distant, so you weren't worried. Instead, close enough for it to matter, was a big building with high walls and barbed wire at the top of them. A prison. Huh.

"Up here!" The voice called again, and you startled.

Shading your eyes from the sun, you looked up into the watchtower, and sure enough, there was a silhouette. A guy, you think, with dark hair. That was about all you could say.

"Yeah?" You called back, curiously.

"That was cool as shit!"

You laughed out, probably for the first time in months, "Thank you, mysterious stranger!"

"Glenn!" He clarified.

Huh, you pursed your lips, before responding, "Y/N!"

"Nice to meet you!"

You laughed again, before feeling a pain in your stomach. When was the last time you'd eaten? You paused, trying to think. Three days ago (there was a box of Twinkies that hadn't expired yet in a stranded supermarket). Not great.

"Hey, Glenn?" You yelled, a little hopeful.

"Yeah?"

You pursed your lips, before deciding -taking a chance, really, "You got any food in there?"

Now, you were walking through the gate, which was a little dramatic. But, you kinda liked it. It felt like you were kind of a big deal, well, until there was a swarm of eyes on you. All different kinds.

You froze, licking across your teeth.

And then, a man ran up to your side -gasping a little. Was that Glenn? How did he-

He offered his hand to shake, and you accepted it -looking at the crowd, a little defensively.

"Are they going to kill me? Or...?"

"Shit," he turned to them, "-They just want some food, guys, c'mon!"

None of them even flinched.

"I don't bite," you joked, before frowning, "-shit. That was in bad taste-"

And then, a voice called out into the tense air.

"Y/N?"

You peeked over heads, looking, because-

Your eyes locked onto hers, and you nearly jumped in place -big smile blooming along your lips, "Holy shit, Mags?!"

You'd been friends, back in high school. You'd left junior year and tried to keep in touch. It just didn't work out. (You can't even remember now if it was her or you who stopped, at this point.)

Before she could so much as reply, you ran to her -arms wide open. She eagerly reciprocated, spinning a little with the force -you'd gotten pretty good at running at this point.

"What the fuck?" You breathed into her shoulder, and she laughed big and loud, "-What are the chances?"

With a thought, you pulled back -still holding her shoulders, "Are your Dad and Beth here?"

"Yeah," she cheered, and something in you felt relieved. Thank god, they were okay.

"And, you?" She offered, a little hesitantly -notable lack at your side.

You pressed your lips together, swallowing, and shook your head, "Been alone since the beginning."

Maggie frowned, hand coming up to rest on your arm and squeezing once.

"Only lived with my boyfriend," you explained, eager to lighten the mood, "-and he actually cheated on me, so. Wasn't the worst lost."

She laughed a little, before asking -carefully, "And your family?"

Something in your chest stung, you wordlessly shook your head. (Visions of unhinged jaws and blood filling it.)

She frowned, whispering her apologies before hugging you again. You leaned into it that time.

And then, you jumped back, excited, "You have to bring me to your family, Mags, it's been so long-"

"Ya 'ave to talk to Rick first," a voice grumbled out behind you.

You spun on your heel, facing a man. Tall, brunette, dark eyes, arms crossed in front of him (strong, you noted), but you could tell in his stance. He was a layer of stone walls, and you did not want to mine.

And then, your eyes smoothed across his back. Is that a fucking crossbow? Sick.

"Whose Rick?" You asked instead, Maggie still holding your arm.

"Whose askin'?"

That, was a good voice. Was your first thought as you turned back around, and your eyes landed on a figure.

Your voice got stuck in your throat.

He was tall, stood like he owned the place (and based on the recommendation, maybe he did), all broad shoulders and strong gaze. Speaking of gaze, he had probably the bluest eyes you'd ever seen. And his hair was brown and curly, a few hung forward on his face. His jaw was unspeakable, and his button-up shirt had a few extra buttons undone to account for the heat. Holy shit.

Maggie elbowed you, and you blinked.

"Uh, me," you answered, clearing your throat -motioning to Glenn, "-he said you had some food and I'm... hungry."

Maggie promptly stomped on your toe. You pressed your lips together trying not to laugh, carefully looking over his face to see if he'd picked up on it at all. Nothing. A shame, really.

Oh well, maybe next time.

"Look, Rick," she interrupted your thoughts, "-I know 'em, really well. Y/N is a good person."

Rick's eyes dipped to you, looking you over. Oh, the words were right there on the tip of your tongue. It would be so easy-

You're trying to survive, Y/N, your mind pressed, focus.

You bit at your lip, but before you could speak for yourself, Glenn did.

"I saw 'em take on a swarm outside," he added, eyes darting to Maggie (Huh.), "-without breaking a sweat."

There are other things I can do without breaking a sweat, your brain immediately remarked, this really was too easy.

Rick seemed to think about it a second, before turning to you, "Ya got a gun?"

I'd like to be loaded with-

"No," you cleared your throat, pulling out your knife (it was one of those multicolored ones, it's why you liked it clean), "-just this."

He hummed, tilting his head with a mouth shrug, "'At's impressive."

I bet your-

You pinched your arm, swallowing, "So, what? Am I in or not?"

Rick's eyes flicked up and down you again (so easy), before he decided, "Ya can stay."

That brings you to now, sitting with Maggie outside with a can of baked beans and a spoon in your hands.

You currently had quite the view of Rick working on the farm, sweat dripping down his brow, strained arms. You'd never thought about farming in that way, but now you were.

"Is his full name Richard?" You asked, curiously.

Maggie turned to you, watching the trail of your eyes to see what you were looking at. She rolled her eyes, "I don't know."

You put a spoonful into your mouth, humming around it, "There's a reason they call them 'Dick', you know."

"Oh my god," she shoved into you -making you laugh a little. You stared down into your can.

"I'm just saying," you stressed, "-he's hot enough for it."

Maggie paused a second, before deciding to say, "His wife died."

"Shit," your smile fell.

"Died in childbirth," she continued, something distant in her eyes -you wondered what exactly it was.

"How long ago?" You asked gently, looking at him in a new light -sympathizing.

"Few months," she answered, a little shortly. You pursed your lips, debating whether to say anything. Or if you even should.

Maggie clarified, herself, "I delivered the baby. Judith, her name is Judith."

"Fuck, Mags," you fully turned to her, putting the can by your feet, "-I'm so sorry."

She took a deep breath in and out, and you wrapped an arm around her shoulders pushing her into your side, "Thanks."

"No problem," you hummed, picking your can back up and letting your eyes drift to Rick again, adding, "-I'm great with babies, you know."

"You're ridiculous," she laughed, taking the bite you offered her.

"What?" You asked, "-Staring isn't bad. He's practically a piece of art, I'm just..."

He turned to the two of you then, blue eyes flickering along your faces -you did not move your gaze at all.

Instead, you gently waved, finishing, "-admiring him."

Rick furrowed his eyebrows for a second, waving back, and then, shaking his head smiling. Count that as a win.

You gnawed at your lip a second, "Do you think he picked up on my 'hungry' thing? I was looking at him and I-"

Maggie laughed, "He definitely did. Everyone did, Y/N, you're shameless."

"It's the apocalypse," you urged, "-who gives a fuck about shame anymore? Rick is hot, and as long as he lets me, I will flirt with him. The more you resist, the more I commit. You remember James in first period?"

She hummed, "I do."

"I chased him for half a year," you continued, swirling the spoon around the can, "-and it worked, didn't it? Guys hardly get properly flattered," your eyes dipped back to him, tone going low, "-I don't mind taking on that duty for the population."

Maggie laughed again, as you just kept your eyes on him. He had dirt on his hands now, wiping at his brow, and just a few curls hung forward on his forehead. God, how did you find him in the apocalypse?

"How valiant," she deadpanned, "-You're a real hero."

"Look, just because you have a type, Glenn, and you bagged him-"

"How did you-"

"Please," you teased, "-he practically ate you earlier with his eyes. Back to my point, I, at least, get to look."

She turned to you, "Ya don't want to date him?"

"Who said that, Mags?" You smirked, turning to her with a smile with eyes that spoke for themselves.

"You know he has kids, right?" She questioned, looking at you.

"So?" you waved the spoon around in your hand, "-Single dads? Hot. Kids? Cute. Where's the loss?"

Maggie looked at you a moment, before shaking her head, "You are clinically insane."

"Maybe," you offered, still watching him, "-but the world's fucked up too. So, at least, I'm not alone."

She laughed really hard at that one, and you felt eyes all over switch to you. Blue ones too. People didn't really seem to laugh around here, so you decided that was your mission too, get people to laugh more. Maybe they could go hand-in-hand.

Time to get to work.

Daryl was sitting across from you, you'd been bugging him for the past few weeks and he'd finally relented. It wasn't easy, but you were nothing if not persistent (hence the Rick situation). Or maybe stubborn. Both? Whatever.

"Daryl, listen," you pointed out, "-you have to take time to load up the bow."

"'At don't mean nothin'," he countered.

"It does," you stressed, explaining, "-in the amount of time it takes you to put in a new arrow, I would have killed at least two."

Daryl rolled his eyes, "It doesn't take 'at long."

"Who said it takes me long to kill two walkers?"

Rick walked by then, and Daryl stopped him.

"Rick, please, take 'em away from me," he spoke out, gruff, but something in you could tell that he wasn't being serious. The guy wasn't half the mystery you expected him to be.

Rick laughed a little at the plea, eyes on you, "What are ya doin' to him?"

"It's not that bad," you laughed, explaining, "-I was just talking about if we were pit against each other to kill the most walkers in a minute. And who would win."

"An' ya want me to help decide?"

"Daryl does," you clarified, "-I am fully confident in my abilities."

Rick laughed a little (another win), "Well, I kno' Daryl's skills, so tell me yours, so it's even."

You bit at your lip, debating. God, it would be so easy. All you had to do was-

"Well," you smiled, playfully, "-I'm told I'm very good with my hands."

He blinked, and it was silent a moment before you heard a snort beside you. You immediately flung to look at him, you had just made Daryl laugh-

"No way," you stressed out, throwing yourself to your feet -pointing at him, "-you just laughed at me."

Daryl pressed his lips together into a thin line, sniffing once, "No, I didn't."

You spun to Rick, and he was already looking at you, you didn't think about it too much.

"Rick," you begged, "-c'mon. I know you and him are like... buddies, but I-"

"Buddies?" He quirked a brow, smiling. Something stirred in your stomach.

"Look, I don't fucking know," you rolled your eyes, "-just agree with me."

He bit down a smile at you, before turning to Daryl, "Ya did laugh at 'em."

"Ha," you cheered, "-I made Daryl Dixon laugh. And, I would win against you."

"He didn't say 'at," Daryl instantly defended.

"Didn't have to, Dixon," you mocked, playfully, "-it's about time management."

"Time management?" Rick questioned curiously.

"Okay, think of this, Rick," you explained, leveling him with your full focus (god he was handsome), "-when you fight with a bow, or a gun for that matter, you have to reload."

He grinned a little at you.

"Follow me, follow me," you hummed, pulling out your knife, "-when you have a physical sort of attack method, like a knife, you don't have that same time issue."

"Ya kinda do though," he interjected.

You paused, looking at him -thoughtfully, "How so?"

"Body's gotta build up energy again," he reasoned (with too much thought for this dumb conversation, smart too? god has favorites), "-Stamina is key to attackin'."

You rolled your lip in between your teeth, he had to be doing this on purpose at this point. Seriously.

"Trust me, sheriff," you spoke -a teeny bit teasing but otherwise very genuine, "-there is no problem with my stamina."

Rick bit back a laugh, turning his head to the side and smiling. You thought you saw a little red on the tips of his ears. Cute. You were unraveling the layers of one Rick Grimes, that was progress.

Daryl didn't even try to hide it that time, letting a gruff chuckle leave his lips, "'M glad I'm not your focus for 'at."

You patted his shoulder, standing up, "It'll be devastating one day, Robin Hood. Don't come crying to me when it is."

"Did ya just call me Robin Hood?"

Rick laughed at that one, head tilting up to the sky. You smiled wide.

"Look at that," you hummed, proud, "-a two for one. Which-"

They both looked at you, but you stuck to your guns. And you smirked a little.

"-honestly, I would not mind," you added -thoughtfully, "-Think about it, and get back to me."

You walked backward a few steps, watching as Rick smiled at you before turning back to fix his gaze on Daryl. Smiling at the ground, you spun on your heel, and went off to find someone else to pester.

You felt a pair of eyes follow you though, and you maybe grinned a little brighter.

Now, you were wandering off on your own. On your own run, you liked to do that sometimes. Maggie nearly had a heart attack because of it, but what damage you did get was usually minor. Except for once, but that wasn't your fault. Well it was, you smashed a window with your fist to see if you could do it. And you could, which was impressive.

Now, you were strolling through an old novelty store -little knick-knacks. Finding some figurines, you grabbed a superhero one and stashed it away. Your eyes caught on a DVD player, the kind for both music and movies, and you picked it up -turning it over in your hands. Battery powered.

On a mission to find both DVDs and some batteries, you roamed through some aisles -particularly a mug one.

Peeking through at some of them, you paused. Taking your pack off and slipping the DVD player into it (along with the few good DVDs you found, no batteries though) on top of some canned food you'd found, you zipped it up. And with a breath, grabbed a mug.

Smiling big, you made your way out of the store.

When you got back to the prison, Maggie was waiting for you -tapping her feet, anxiously. She was a little like a mother, you weren't sure how you felt about it. But you loved her so, you dealt with it.

"Hey Mags," you cheered, mug handle twisted between your fingers.

She instantly relaxed, eyes scanning you over before dropping to the mug. She frowned.

"Please, tell me-"

"I got some food," you sighed, "-I'm not entirely useless."

She pursed her lips, "And the mug?"

You grinned, holding it up for her to see -tapping your fingers along both sides. Her eyes skimmed over it before she frowned (biting back a smile, you could tell).

"Seriously?" She asked.

"What?" You responded, groaning, "-I can't get gifts?"

She shoved into your side, and before you could take too many steps, you were met with your target -leaning against the fence, few steps from Maggie. Was he waiting for you too?

"Rick," you dropping your hands, particularly to avoid him from reading the text, "-what are you doing here?"

"Ya do 'at a lot?" He asked, a little pointedly. You thought you recognized something a little like worry in it, "-Go off on your own?"

Huh.

"Yeah," you laughed a little, "-you haven't noticed? I've been getting like... half the food we have."

Rick hummed (a little in appreciation) before his eyes dropped to your hands, "And what's 'at?"

"A gift," you extended it to him, unflinchingly.

He pulled himself from his spot on the wall, walking forward and accepting it. His fingers (great fingers, really. Was that weird to say?) wrapping around it, you noticed for a second that your fingers brushed -your breath halted a little in place.

"A mug?" He asked looking at you for a second, eyebrows furrowed.

You took your hand, and spun it around in his hands -brushing his skin against yours, "The other side."

He smiled a little, laughing.

Right there on a rather plain mug, were the words '#1 HOT DAD'.

He bit back a smile, eyes peeking up at you again, "Ya really ain't gonna let 'is go, are ya?"

"Nope," you popped the 'p', before clarifying, "-unless you want me to."

Rick licked a line against his teeth, grinning a little with something in his eye, "Who said 'at?"

"Noted," you smiled back, something fluttering in your chest, "-now, where's Carl? I got him something good."

"Ya got him somethin' too?"

He was looking at you a little curiously, like he was seeing new layers of you. You kind of wanted to squirm a little at his gaze. You were not used to people figuring you out.

You sighed, quickly turning your pack to the front and unzipping it. With a breath, you dug around and pulled out the figurine -Rick's eyes caught on it immediately. A small smile creeping along his mouth.

"He told me once he liked comics," you clarified, clearing your throat, "-figured he would like this. You... You think he will?"

"He'll love it," he answered, something new in his eyes, "-C'mon, I'll take ya to him."

On the way there, he seemed to pause a moment, something on his mind. You patiently waited for him to say it.

"'Saw somethin' else in 'ere," he mindlessly remarked, as the mug swung between his fingers "-What is it?"

"Oh," you pulled your pack foward again, excited, extending the figurine to him for safekeeping (he took it with a smile), "-a DVD player."

You held it in your hands, showing to him.

"Found some DVDs, good ones," you continued, before putting it back in your bag, and accepting the figurine back (your fingers brushed again), "-no batteries though."

Rick hummed, pursing his lips like he was thinking about something. He didn't say a word though.

You didn't have much time to think about it, because a few days after that, the prison fell. You'd escaped with Rick and Carl, but you weren't exactly yourself. Not after everything.

There was Judith, and Maggie, and... and Beth and Hershel. Every day felt like there was bile turning in your stomach; every time you closed your eyes, you saw someone... someone dead.

You were lying against the grass, looking up at the stars -it was still so pretty. Despite it all, the sky was still the same. Bright and twinkly. It was when everyone was on the road, wandering for a place to go. You just couldn't sleep, so you took it upon yourself to just look at the sky. You thought the clouds might be pretty, but the night was a little breathtaking.

"Ya awake?"

You didn't say a word.

"C'mon, Y/N, I know ya are."

"Yeah, I am," you sighed, saying shortly, "-Can't sleep."

There was an echo of footsteps, and then you felt body heat beside you. There was a beat.

"Ya ain't gonna say anythin'?" Rick hummed, turning his head to face you.

You matched his eyes (he's probably more handsome now, honestly), "About what?"

"Me, ya know," he motioned, to your side, "-layin' with ya."

You laughed at him a little, before teasing, "Awe, you miss it, don't you, sheriff?"

"Not a sheriff anymore," he hummed, something a little heavy in his voice.

"Eh," you shrugged, looking back to the stars, "-you still are in my mind."

Rick smiled at you, wordlessly.

Before you added, plainly, "Mostly because I love a man in uniform."

He laughed then, big and bright, and you felt something warm in your chest that you knew but hadn't felt in a while.

You wanted to be genuine, really genuine.

"You are a good man, Rick," you turned to look at him, and he looked straight back, "-We've all done shit we never should've, and maybe it's fucked us up a little bit, moved our path in the wrong direction once or twice, but-"

You looked back up to the sky, still feeling his eyes on you. It was kind of like a dream, like the apocalypse wasn't real for a second, just you and Rick. And maybe you wanted that a lot more than you knew.

"-you've got a big heart, Rick," you finished, soundly, "-And even if sometimes you lose sight of what you're doing, or maybe who you are, that... that doesn't change."

Rick didn't say anything for a moment, words echoing out into the night air. You couldn't find it in yourself to regret them, though. You never really regret what you said these days, there was no reason too.

You really only regret what you didn't say. Maybe to people who aren't around anymore. Your heart sunk a little in your chest, but it felt a little lighter -just a smidgen. (Maybe because of who you were with.)

"I got somethin' for ya," Rick suddenly spoke, sitting up (you followed suit).

You furrowed your eyebrows, "You got me something? When?"

Mindlessly, he replied, "On the last run."

You pursed your lips but waited patiently. He moved over to his pack, unzipping one of his pockets and pulling something out -you couldn't quite see. Trying to peek you moved over a little, but nothing.

With a breath, he stood back up and waltzed over to you (somehow he made walking hot, they needed to research that), extending it forward right into your face.

You blinked, gently taking it into your hands and looking at it closely. It was dark so you couldn't really-

Batteries. He handed you a pack of AA batteries.

"No way," you laughed out, "-you remembered that?"

"I remember a lot of what ya say," he offered casually, and you felt something shoot down your spine. And with a breath, he sat right beside you, so close your knees bumped a little.

Pulling your bag over to you, you dug around in it. You'd kept the DVD player and DVDs, not really with the hope of finding batteries. But, to feel a little human, remember life before.

You'd taken to putting stickers on it when you saw any, so the top of it was covered in an assortment. You ran your fingers over it a second, taking it in, before flipping it over. Popping open the little tab, you let out a breath of relief when it was AAs.

Rick laughed.

"I was going to be so pissed if it wasn't," you spoke, "-you have no idea."

He just looked at you then, in a way you'd seen before but never really thought about. You turned back to your bag, shuffling around to find your stash.

"You want music or a movie?"

"Movie's fine," he hummed, and you still felt his eyes trained solely on you. You tried to shake it off.

"Let's see," you pulled out a few of the movies you had, showing them to Rick, "-I've got... a kid's animated movie, or... a... cheesy romcom!"

Rick stared at you, instead of the movies, before flickering to them.

Rambling, you continued, "I also picked up some horror stuff, but I... I really think that was a bad move on my part."

He laughed again, just looking at you in a way you didn't really know how to label. Or react to. You were kind of a little overwhelmed at the fact that he'd even gotten you the batteries, and then the way he was looking at you-

"Think romcom sounds good," he interrupted your thoughts, scanning over you.

"Alright," you acknowledged, putting the other ones up, and scooting back next to him -not enough to touch. It was a little awkward and you weren't sure how you were going to-

"I don't bite ya know," he quipped, laughing a little.

You turned to him, grinning, "Well maybe I do."

Rick laughed again for a moment, just looking at you. And then he extended out an arm, welcoming you into his side.

You paused a moment, before carefully guiding yourself to slot into him; the back of your head against his shoulder, and his arm wrapped around the back of your shoulders. You brought your knees up, to carefully balance the DVD player (shaped like a little laptop really). A tiny little screen for the two of you to see on. Logistically, that's why you were so close but a part of you thought a little otherwise.

"I don't," you hummed.

"What?"

"I don't bite."

He laughed a little, "Good."

"Unless you want me to-"

And the laughter that filled the night was just between you and him. And maybe in the morning, you were fast asleep on his shoulder and maybe he looked at you a little like you were the greatest thing he'd ever seen and maybe he shushed all the others just to have the moment last even a second longer.

You'd never really know.

Now, you were in Alexandria. You'd gotten Maggie back, you'd gotten Judith back. You were on a new high, and that meant two things. More pestering, and two, flirting with Rick.

You were walking through Alexandria with Maggie, just keeping her on her feet really. She wasn't super pregnant yet, and it was good to be healthy.

"I cannot believe you're pregnant," you mindlessly remarked, holding Judith close to your side.

"I have been," she retorted, "-for a while. Think ya have had time to digest it."

"But, it's like physical proof that you fucked," you commented, "-unprotected, by the way. I know you missed that sex-ed day, but seriously-"

"Carl's proof that Rick fucked," Maggie defended, eyes smoothing over him with a few of his friends.

"Well," you pursed your lips, "-I know that Rick fucked. Just on principle, he's-"

She motioned for you to zip it, "Don't start. I know you are doin' good, which is great. But it also means ya become a lil' unbearable."

"Me? Unbearable?" You turned to Judith, cooing a little, "-Can you believe the nerve of her, Jude?"

Judith smiled at you with her big brown eyes and toothless little mouth. You pinched her cheek, instinctively, "So cute."

"I still can't believe that you're in love with Ri-"

"I told you that in confidence," you interrupted, pointed.

Maggie stuck out her tongue at you and Judith laughed a little at it. Funny faces, right. You could physically see the pregnancy hormones on her face as she cooed at Judith.

You would've said something, but you had just done it yourself.

"Where's your keeper anyway?" You hummed like you'd been stuck with her (you actively searched her out).

"'E's not my keeper," she responded, sternly (mom voice, already?), "-and he's out on run, gettin' supplies."

"If he's not your keeper, how'd you know who I was talking about?"

"You are so-"

Before she could finish such a kind sentence, the two of you were interrupted. A presence waltzing up to your side.

You turned to look who, and-

Your heart lept into your throat. It was Rick, now clean-shaven, and although, you had loved the beard (don't even get you started), his jaw was on full display. Blue, blue eyes. And dipping to his clothes, he was in a damn uniform.

"Look at you, Rick," you complimented, smiling.

"'Heard ya liked a man in uniform," he smiled (a new type of way), and winked. And before you could say a word, he walked forward -past you.

You stuttered to a stop, Maggie right beside you. Blinking you turned to her, and she looked right back at you. And then you both turned to look at Rick, still walking the same way he was.

Turning back forward, you opened your mouth, "Sorry, did that just happen?"

Maggie hummed, pulling you with her, "It did."

"How did I never think of that?"

"Think of what?" She offered, as you smoothed back into a step with her.

You answered, eyebrows furrowing, "That he might flirt back."

She shrugged, "If it helps, I never thought he would."

"I am not against shoving a pregnant woman," you hissed back, with no bite. You never really had any. And you both broke into laughter, as you roamed through Alexandria.

Now, Daryl was leaning against a house as you stood beside him -pestering as always.

"No, listen," you turned to him, attentively, "-it's called fuck, marry, kill-"

"I ain't playing it with ya."

"C'mon, Daryl, it's fun, look-" you flagged down Glenn (who was carrying a box, of what, who knows?), "-Glenn, fuck, marry, kill. Michonne, Carol, and Daryl."

"Easy," he laughed, "-fuck Michonne, marry Carol, and sorry, dude, but kill Daryl."

"See?" You motioned to Glenn, as he walked forward.

"Don't ya 'ave a wife?" Daryl remarked, as Glenn moved along.

"Oh please," you shook your hand dismissively, "-it's all just fun. Just hypothetical scenarios."

"Okay, now," you started over, "-fuck, marry, kill. Deanna-"

"Kill," he answered -unflinchingly.

"See!" you cheered, "-you're getting the hang of it-"

"What are the two of ya doin'?"

You turned to see the one and only Rick Grimes, a little more worn today, which you kind of preferred, still had those bandaids on (how did he make that look hot?), and more casually dressed. In the white t-shirt, we trust.

"I'm teaching Daryl how to play fuck, marry, kill," you answered, eyes solid on him, "-obviously."

Before he could respond, Daryl chimed up, something mischievous in his eyes. You squinted at him, trying to figure it out. And then he opened his mouth.

"I got one," he spoke, a smile teasing on his lips (looking at Rick, directly), "-Y/N, Glenn, and Rosita."

You stared at the eye contact for a moment (everything was so suspicious), before asking, "What am I supposed to do with myself?"

Daryl shrugged, you bit your lip a second.

"I guess I could kill myself, big waste, but-" you paused, "-ooh, wait, I could, like, clone situation fuck myself-"

"Now, 'at would be a sight to see," a low southern drawl interrupted your words, and your voice faltered to a stop.

You turned to him, squinting at him for a second -trying to understand. All he did was wink at you again, and you hated that it made your knees a little wobbly. Especially when he was holding onto the column of the porch, and slightly leaning toward you-

"Before I was so rudely interrupted," you cleared your throat, "-I would marry Glenn, fuck Rosita, and, tragically, kill myself."

Daryl nodded his head, before motioning to Rick, "What 'bout ya?"

"Am I playin'?" He questioned, finger pointing to himself and eyes dashing to you.

"Might as well," you shrugged, "-you're already over here."

He pursed his lips a second like he was thinking, eyes particularly avoiding you, "An' I can't choose one person for two of 'em?"

You swallowed, oh, he was playing dirty.

"Nope," Daryl answered.

And then, he turned into something much softer, something more familiar, "Then, marry Y/N, fuck Rosita, and kill Glenn."

Marry?

Your heart lept into your throat, and your fingers started fidgeting with your shirt -instinctively. How the hell was he winning? I started this game-

"Thought so," Daryl responded.

And out of the corner of your eye, you saw Carol. Her eyes matched yours a second, and you tried to convey how desperate you were to get away from this very scene. Her eyebrows furrowed for a second, but then she spoke.

"Hey, Y/N! Can you come help me with the food?"

"Of course, Carol," you called back, smiling at the two of them, "-sorry, duty calls."

Rick just grinned at you then, like he knew exactly what you were doing. And you were 100% sure he did. Stupid handsome men with stupidly beautiful blue eyes. Ignoring the fact that you physically brushed against him to get off the porch, you frantically caught up to Carol.

You were in the pantry now, gathering ingredients, Carol directing you -naming them as she found them.

"So," she looked at you, "-are you gonna tell me what that was about?"

You pursed your lips, before answering, "Rick's flirting back with me."

Carol raised her eyebrows at you, "Huh."

"And I was teaching Daryl how to play fuck, marry, kill, and he-" you rapted your fingernails along one of the cans, "-and he said he'd marry me. But all... genuine and shit."

"And that's bad?"

"No, no," you shook your head, putting the can into a basket, "-It's not bad. Just... I don't know if he means it."

"You just said that he said it genuinely," Carol pointed out, grabbing another can.

"Well yeah, but-" you scrambled a moment, "-all that time ago, I was flirting genuinely. I mean even though it was playful, it was still genuine."

"And," she connected the dots, "-you're not sure if he's genuine?"

"Yeah," you skimmed along the shelves, gathering the last can she needed.

"Well," she took it from your hand, blue eyes on you softly, "-if it's worth anything, I think he's genuine. And maybe this is his way of showing how he feels about you."

You hummed, wordlessly.

"He's let you flirt with him this long," she continued, bringing a hand up to your shoulder, "-that has to mean something, doesn’t it?"

She had a point.

"Now," she adjusted the basket, "-are you actually going to help me with the food? Or was it just an excuse to run away from Rick?"

You laughed, "I'll help, I'll help. I'm not a total dick. Speaking of-"

She turned to you.

"Do you know if Rick's full name is Richard?"

It was a few weeks later, and they were filled with frustratingly blue winks. And that was one thing, but now you were being stupid. You were stupid.

You'd thought Oh, it'll be just like old times, I'll go out on a run. It'll be so nice-

And now you were walking with a gunshot would, quickly bandaged by a rip of your t-shirt and whatever you had around you. Which in whatever the hell store it was, was not a lot. All you'd managed to find was alcohol so you at least soaked the shirt.

You'd blearily walked all the way home, eyes foggy, and praying that a walker wouldn't come near you. And now you saw it, Alexandria.

"Gabriel," you called, breathlessly, "-Gabriel, please let me in."

You heard him say something but you were delirious. Maybe something with your name? Head fuzzy and eyes bleary, you were coming down from the high of getting somewhere safe. As you waltzed into Alexandria (pain in the abdomen so hot it almost felt numbing), there was a swarm of people around you immediately. Felt like you were back in the prison, when Maggie would be waiting and you think she was now.

"Hey, hey," she chanted, grabbing your face (and you could see her now), "-look at me, Y/N, tell me what the hell happened."

"Some guy, the bitch," you muttered out, a little slurred you think, "-just shot me, because he wanted the last of the damn Campbell soup, who shoots someone for Campbell soup?"

Her eyes dropped to your body, you mindlessly noted that it was sticky. Your eyes dropped too, and saw all the red -so much red.

"I think I lost a lot of blood, Mags."

"Somebody go get Rick, and the doctor, now," she shouted (loud, loud), before turning back to you, "-How the hell did you get here?"

"I walked," you answered simply.

"You walked?" She responded, hands on your shoulders, "-How did you-"

You were safe now, and everything in your body just gave out.

"Adrenaline is a hell of a drug," you hummed, laughing a little, before falling to the ground.

Your head stung from the ground, as Maggie tried to get down by your side -all pregnant belly.

"'S okay, Mags, don't-" you mumbled "-don't hurt yourself."

She frowned, and you thought she might have tears in her eyes, "I have to stay with you, Y/N, whose going to keep you awake-"

"Glenn," you called, and you saw him saunter up to your side, a little slurred, "-take care of 'er, help her sit. Don't worry, Mags, don't worry-"

You heard a slap of footsteps then, quick and brisk, and before you could wonder who, blue eyes and rough hands were guiding your face. He was starting to grow his stubble back, you mindlessly noted.

"Rick," you smiled a little fuzzily, reaching up and patting his face, "-See Mags, Rick'll take care of me."

"Hey, hey," he brought your focus to him, "-keep lookin' at me, okay?"

"Well," you slurred a little, "-'at's not very hard, sheriff."

He turned to the crowd then, voice low and gruff, "What the hell happened?"

You heard Maggie respond then, through sobs, "'Ey said that some guy shot 'em, over a... over some food."

"Didn't even ask if he could have 'em, first. Who does that-"

"Daryl," he motioned -tone low, and he immediately nodded. You watched him leave your eyesight.

Rick instead, brought your face back to him, as you recognized the doctor to be by your side, scrambling with some white stuff.

"Hey, hey, baby," he spoke, low in a whisper, "-I'm 'ere, focus on me. Look at me."

You smiled again, delirious, "You called me baby, that feels nice. Everythin' else burns-"

"I kno', I kno'," he soothed, you felt pressure on your abdomen (hissing in pain, as your eyes got more blurry), "-ya did a good job gettin' back 'ere. To where you're safe. Ya did a good job."

"Just kept walking," you slurred, "-couldn't stop. Wasn't gonna die to some asshole."

Rick laughed then a little, and you felt something a little different than pain. Your hands naturally came to his face, mindlessly rubbing your thumbs against his cheekbones. He's always been so handsome, only gets better with time.

You noticed he leaned into it a little, careful not to hurt you. Yeah, you realized, he was genuine.

God, what if you had missed out on this, with Rick? All because of some stupid can of soup-

"Rick," you started, and he looked at you a little like you held the world, you were the world maybe, "-I think I'm gonna die."

"You're not, no-" he held his hand over yours (it was so warm. Why had you never held his hand?), "-You're not gonna die, baby. You're gonna be fine."

"I'm bleeding," you breathed out, scanning over him, "-Been bleeding the whole time. You're not supposed to bleed that much, Rick."

"Ya ain't gonna die," he repeated, hands gathering your face, "-Look at me, ya ain't dyin'."

Concern clear on his face, you felt the urge to soothe, soothe, soothe-

You looked at him, eyes scanning over his face. He was handsome, yeah, but he was caring, smart, and so, so kind. You wanted to tell him that, see what he'd say. What he'd do.

"'Said that you were a good man, 'at you have a big heart," you hummed, eyes languidly blinking, "-still mean it. Don't you forget it."

He looked at you for a second, eyes flicking all over your face, before looking to the doctor. She must've said something (your ears felt stuffy) because then Rick was picking you up. He was everywhere, smell, sight. All you could feel was Rick, body heat thrumming and blooming into your side.

"Always knew you were strong," you mindlessly remarked.

You felt Rick laugh in his chest, and your eyelids were so heavy then. You slowly began blinking, your brain slowing down. Maybe you could close your eyes just for a little bit.

"Got so much to say to ya."

And then, it all faded to black.

This blanket is scratchy as hell, you mindlessly remarked. It was almost like a thin sheet, barely coating you, and you think if you moved your arms, it would make that noise that shitty bedsheets did. Why were hospital beds so bad? Shouldn't they be comfortable?

And then your nose was hit with the heavy sterilized air. You scrunched your nose up on instinct, it made your throat burn-

"Y/N? Darlin'?"

You slowly blinked your eyes open, heavy and languid; they always had those florescent lights too. How was that helpful?

"'S too fucking bright in here."

You heard him laugh a little, maybe in relief mostly, and you blearily blinked to get a look at him.

"'D turn it down for ya if I could."

You laughed a little and squinted your eyes open, laying gently on him. He looked a little worse for wear, his hair messy and shirt a little crooked. You wanted to fix his curls back in place, and your hand moved before you could stop it.

Gently, you threaded his hair back. He was a breath away from where you laid, so it wasn't too far of a reach.

Rick looked at you so softly, that the words cut off your from your lips. And with a breath, he pulled your hand down from his hair, sliding it against his cheek. Before you could say a word about it, he turned his head and gently kissed your palm.

You bit at your lip, eyes flickering over him, "How long have you been here?"

"Since the doc' allowed me to be," he answered, fidgeting with your hand -not really wanting to let go, you guessed.

"And Mags?" You asked, concern flickering through your eyes, "-Are she and the baby okay?"

"Yeah," he looked at you, a little in disbelief, "-they're alright. She was stressed, yeah, but Glenn kept 'er calm."

"And," your eyes darted to your abdomen, where your wound now hid, "-the wound?"

"Good," he replied, eyes swimming over you like he couldn't quite believe you were okay, "-Doc' says ya just need to rest, not irritate the stitches. Which I kno' will be hard for ya."

You sighed, leaning your head back onto the bed, looking up at the ceiling, "I am going to be so bored."

Rick chuckled a little, before falling suspiciously quiet. You turned to him, just to see him looking down and fidgeting with your hand -a little like he was working on saying something. You simply waited.

"'Ve been looking for those batteries since ya said ya wanted 'em," he spoke, a little quietly.

You froze, "Since the prison?"

"Yeah," he offered, "-apparently 'ey're a hot commodity."

"Why?" You questioned, looking at him curiously, "-Why all that work for some batteries?"

"Because," he hummed simply, eyes matching yours now, "-ya wanted 'em."

You pushed your lips into a thin line, the glimmer of hope sparking in your chest. Not saying a word, you just stared at him for a second; not unlike in the early days, you were just admiring him for a lot more than his (still unbelievably handsome) face.

"Y/N, I-" he started, eyes dipping back down to your hands. He seemed to pause a moment, debating.

And then he looked up at you, eyes set in his path -unflinchingly. In a sort of understanding, like everything made sense to him now. The silence was heavy until he leaned forward and brushed his hand along your cheek -carefully. It made you feel precious, and your eyes maybe got a little cloudy because of it.

"I'm in love with ya," he let out a breath, tone heavy and genuine, "-an... and the way ya blatantly hit on me but in the damn most genuine type of way."

You laughed a little and leaned gently into his palm. He looked at you in a way you couldn't label then, or maybe you could (love), and rubbed his thumb along your cheekbone.

"I didn't know how to react to it, at first," he hummed, something settled in his eyes, "-the attention ya gave me. 'S somethin' I've never dealt with before."

"Really?" You let slip past your lips, and his grin grew wide as he let his head fall and shook it, smiling at the ground.

"Even now," he laughed a little, turning his gaze up again, "-ya always said thin's like it was so easy to do. Like ya were tellin' me 'at the sun was hot."

"You did give me some pretty good set ups," you clarified, smiling at him.

"'Never meant to," he added, grinning a little in wonder, "-I couldn't think straight when ya said 'em, so I'm surprised I even did."

You hummed, eyes twinkling at him and he looked at you just a little more like he was in love. It made a spark shoot down to your toes, warmth flooding your chest.

"If it's worth anything," you spoke, a little embarrassed, "-my brain stops working when you do the fond thing."

"The fond thing?"

"It's just," you sighed, trying to articulate, "-It's a way that you look at me, or... or smile at me. When you do the soft stuff."

"What exactly is-" he hummed, gently, holding your attention like your words really mattered, "-'the soft stuff'?"

"Uh," you blew a raspberry with your lips, "-like giving me the batteries, and... and that whole conversation actually."

"Oh," he laughed a little, blue eyes twinkling, "-like I was in love with ya."

"What? No, you weren't... not that early-"

And then you looked at him.

"Shit," you marveled, "-really?"

"Like I said," he smiled at you, a little like you were cute, "-I looked for those batteries for months. For ya. An'-"

His face got a little more serious.

"-I really missed ya. 'At was probably when I first realized it."

You rolled your lip inbetween your teeth, "Yeah?"

"Ya used to make everybody laugh, and were always smilin'-" he explained, "-it wasn't even just the flirtin', it was just... I knew ya were hurtin', an' I couldn't help. Or I... I didn't know what to do to help."

You just stared.

"An' I missed ya so desperately, I just-" he let out a breath, "-It all clicked into place, and I went on 'at run, hopin' to god there were batteries-"

You laughed a little weepily, leaning into his hand.

"-because I just wanted to make ya feel better. Bring ya back to me."

"How the hell did you even find them?" You questioned, wiping at your eyes, "-It couldn't have been that lucky."

"'Wasn't," he replied simply, "-I was only supposed to do a few stores, I did the whole strip."

"God, really?" You smiled, "-For batteries?"

"No," he hummed, simply, "-for ya."

You fell quiet.

"I would do anythin' for ya," he added, voice a little breathless, "-anythin'."

"Anything?"

Rick laughed a little, grin bright, "Ya need to rest, baby."

"That's not a no," you chimed, grinning.

He looked at you a certain type of way then, "'S definitely not a no."

You felt your heart pound in your chest for a moment. That was something to look forward to. Something stirred in your stomach.

"What?" He asked, teasing, "-Ya all bark and no bite, hmm?"

"If I wasn't bedridden," you spoke flatly, "-I would kick your ass."

"Ya would," he agreed.

And you laughed, eyes smoothing over his face. Before noticing something you hadn't quite said yet.

Words fell out of your lips, "Even though you probably already know, because I've chasing you all this time-"

He smiled at you.

"-I love you too," you finished, "-if it wasn't obvious."

"'Was kinda obvious," he leveled -teasing, but something was sparkling so bright in his eyes that you didn't really mind.

"Yeah, yeah," you moved your hand dismissively, "-don't start, sheriff."

You paused for a moment, eyes dancing along the room, "Do I get to go home today?"

"No," he spoke, with a certainty that shook through your bones (this man had literally everything), "-'Need to be taken care of, so ya are stayin' wit' me until you're healed."

You blinked at him, he was doing the fond thing again. Your mind relaxed to a low hum.

"Maybe after too," he added, tone softer but not any less certain, "-if ya want."

You stared at him, wordless.

Rick blinked, looking at you, before grinning, "'At the fond thing?"

"Yeah," you cleared your throat, embarrassed, "-I don't... It's been a long time since I've been cared for. At all. And you're a very handsome man offering to-"

"Not offerin'," he clarified, eyes set on yours, "-just doin'. 'Specially now, 'cause I kno' ya love me too."

All headstrong, decisive, and certain. How was this happening to you?

"'Thought you said it was obvious?"

"It was," he hummed, grinning at you, "-I could just barely wrap my head around ya flirtin' with me. Couldn't really see it."

You thought for a second, before speaking, "Was it Daryl?"

He grinned at you, tilting his head a little, "Maybe."

"Always knew he was a big softie," you hummed, "-read him like a book when we first met. Stone layers to an ooey-gooey center."

Rick scrunched up his nose, "Ooey-gooey center?"

"Sometimes," you sighed, "-Sometimes I say stupid shit around really attractive people. It's a habit."

"'Guess 'at means you're still gonna be flirting with me?"

"As long as you want me to, sheriff," you clarified.

"So maybe forever then," he grinned and you felt your heart leap into your chest (fuck his fond things). You were totally never getting over that.

"Yeah," you hummed in agreement, "-Maybe forever then."

Mission accomplished.

#rick grimes #rick grimes x reader #its griming time #stuff n' thangs #rick grimes x you #rick grimes x y/n #ricky dicky doo dah grimes #twd #twd rick #rick grimes x y/n fanfiction #rick grimes oneshot

[semicolonsspace]

Him (your favorite) (Stiles//Dylan O'Brien)

No use of names. Just pet names and Y/n.

Word count: 2.3k

Warnings: Roleplay, unprotected sex, edging, begging, praise kink, degradation kink, Bondage (use of handcuffs), breeding kink, stretch kink(?), mommy kink, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, subspace.

"Honey, I'm home," he yells as he shuts the door. He would always do this, he would always say it's 'hilarious'. Y/n found it humorous so soon after they made it a thing she started doing it as well. But except she put her spin onto it, talking like a 1940s housewife that just got back running errands.

Y/n rounds the corner to the front door. She was wearing his favorite, his T-shirt and shorts— or at least he thought she was wearing some; She wasn't. She was doing errands around the house in his shirt—Which mostly consisted of organizing the new room they had just renovated— more like Y/n renovated because she wanted it to be perfect!

"Hello, dear," she says in her housewife's voice. He laughs at her and pulls her in by the hips to kiss her. His hands snaked under the shirt she wore and slapped her ass when he realized she was only wearing underwear and his shirt. "You tryna kill me today?" He asks in a guttural groan. Her forehead rested on his as she smiled lovingly at her boyfriend of two wonderful years. "Not currently."

He gave her a playful shrewd look. "I think I'm already dead, then," he hums suggestively as he pulls hair out of her face, then resting his hand to cup it. His soft touch sent a chill down her spine as she stared up at him with lust that was masked by playfulness. "Oh, yeah?" She starts as she bats her eyelashes. "Well, I guess I might have to resurrect you."

He looked intrigued by her choice of words, choosing a decision for himself he indulged her humorous antics. "How so?"

"By laying you on my sacrificial altar bed and extracting your life force fluids," she jokingly purrs at him. That seemed good enough for him because he slung her body over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. As he walked he shreaded his layers then threw her on their bed.

Y/n scolded him for being so careless, as she almost hit her head on the metal bed frame. She pulls him down, and pulls his shirt off effortlessly—as she had done it so many times before due to the numerous times of "catching up sex" they had due to his work. She pins his pale buffed arms to the mattress while speaking. "Now, baby. Don't you remember how I said 'I' have to extract some fluids?"

He looks up at her and smirks. He decided to indulge her roleplay and started improvising lines. "Please, don't hurt me— I'll be good— you said you needed fluids, take my spit anything but my blood!" He whined with feigning horror. But she knew he was aroused, she could feel it— feel his 7-inch cock pressing— begging to be drained by her— and if he was lucky he could have her cunt to grip her tight.

Y/n chuckles darkly, something he thought was too authentic to be in their present roleplay. "I never specified which fluid I needed, dummy."

His eyes widened when he 'realized' what she meant. "By all means, go ahead— just don't kill me— please—" he begged once more. Y/n plants a soft kiss on his pointed elf-like nose as if saying 'good.'

That led to having him cuffed to the bed for hours. Her hand wrapped around his cock— jerking it just to stop before he would release. She wanted him to explode when he did so. And she wanted it to be inside of her. She wanted to feel the familiarity of the thick warm liquid rife her up just for it to enter her cervix. She was on the pill, plus she had a few boxes of plan B she liked to keep a stack of.

"Mama! Please! Just let me cum! I'll be good!" He screams, fake tears streaming from his eyes. Some of them were genuine tears from how delicious the pleasure was.

"Will you be my little ingredient holder?" She tilted her head as she spoke, speaking in the most condescending tone she could muster. "I need lots of human sperm to make my potions, would you like that? For me to milk you dry every day?"

He lets out a guttural groan that she didn't think was part of the roleplay. This was purely him. He was enjoying every bit of this, lapping up all the attention his girlfriend gave her.

The last statement was proved by his hips thrusting into her hips in an attempt to chase his orgasm. She stops and rubs his stomach. "How many times was that? 6 times? 6 potential orgasms just for me to stop... That makes me powerful don't you think? To have the ability to stop you from doing something your body chases? It's okay though, you'll get it soon."

Then her cunt was hovering over his red cock that was tortured for the last 2 hours. He nodded eagerly as he babbled how much he needed her to finish him off— to give her the "ingredient" she needed. She sat on him, wincing at how big he was, Every time she had him in her at first she would always be shocked by how much he stretched her fluttering walls.

"Going to be the best ingredient ever— make the strongest potion," she praises, continuing their little roleplay. He didn't seem to be acting anymore due to the immense pleasure, mostly just him begging for mercy for her to finish him off finally.

"For fucks sake— please just ride me, mama— need it," he whines, actual tears falling down his face. He was ruined— disheveled. And she felt glorious; she had done that. She had made him feel so divine just for her to deny his unholy release six whole times.

Y/n clicks her tongue and slaps his chest slightly, before reaching back and squeezing his balls. By his reaction she knew it was painful from how much he groaned— a different type of groan— he needed that release and she was just toying with him— She had been toying with him this whole time. "Next time you won't finish. I may need the ingredient but I can always use other fluids," she warns darkly.

He seemed to get that she was still roleplaying and nodded, breathing a sorry that was soon sucked in as she started hopping on him, his dick curve hitting her spot every time she sheathed onto him.

Her hands rested on his pecs before finding his nipples and tugging on them harshly. "Pretty boy looks so good fucked out for me," she whispers into his ear, her one hand caressing his sweaty hair. "Only for you." His eyes flutter, his mouth staying open. She kissed him— now instead of hopping, she was rocking into him, which seemed more sensual to them as they moaned in sync, telling each other they loved each other, completely forgetting about the roleplay. Now it was just the couple of two years that have lived with each other for eleven months.

Y/n reaches for the cuffs and he shakes his head while begging a no. "Keep them on, please," he moans.

Her mouth forms a smile before opening from the pleasure. She gets an idea so they both have what they want. "Wanna feel you touch me," she says uncuffing one singular cuff. His hand immediately finds her hip while his hips thrust into her—seeming like he was trying to gain control.

"Fucking being a brat for not letting me cum, baby," he groans as he pinches her nipple. She smiles at him before kissing his neck. "Good," she whispers, before unlatching the other cuff. Then she was flipped on her stomach, her ass in the air, her face buried in the mattresses as he plunged his abused cock into her. "Oh, you feel so good—way better than your hand, that's for damn sure," he murmurs breathily. Y/n was clawing at the mattress, bratty almost pornographic moans being muffled into the light grey satin sheets.

She lifts her head finally, positioning her body to arch, her elbows propping her up as he continued to rail her pussy into oblivion. "Cum in me— wanna feel you-"

He cuts her off before she continues with a humorous moaning chuckle. "Trust me, I'm gonna fucking milk every fuckin' drop inside this pussy, gonna stuff it full so you can carry my baby," he growls, making his thrust harder to punch— not kiss— her cervix. She squeals as a sudden wave of intense pleasure knocks her out. Her vision faded black and he coaxed her, his thrust becoming sloppy before he stilled in her. He doubles over from the climax, whispering praises into her ear. "S'good, I love you so much, honey," was all she could make out.

She thought he was the one who was going to be exhausted but he kept going, his cock continuing to piston inside of her for round two. She was more than okay with it, letting him use her just how he wanted; he deserved it.

By the time he stuffs her brim full with a second orgasm, she is on her back. The cum oozed out of her cunt as he pestered wet-sloppy and open-mouth kisses all over her neck and chest. She was bound to have marks all over her in the morning. "Look at that, baby," he says as he plays with his release around the hole. He was still inside, his finger lapping up the release and stuffing it back into her.

"Fuck, don't do that, or we're doing a round three," y/n squeals. He smiles cheekily at her and stuffs his finger into her again.

His cock and his finger were both inside, stretching her to limits she never thought she would be able to with him. Then he starts thrusting slowly, his vacant hand holding her ankle in the air so he can have maximum access to his favorite toy.

"We need to get those ankle holders like hospitals have so I can fuck you better," he says between grunts. "Or a fuck machine so I can get payback."

At the mention of the machine, she screams, especially because he removes his finger and presses it onto her stomach. "Scream for me again, baby: tell the whole fuckin' neighborhood I'm breeding my little whore again."

And she did, she couldn't take his rough thrust with his hand pushing on her stomach, it made her tighter— sensitive. But she could not bring herself to stop such amazing pleasure.

His stamina never seemed to shock Y/n. It did at first, having to beg her to eat her out. She let him, barely saying no simply because it was a win-win. He would always say "I get pleasure from eating my girl out, I don't need anything else." Which she loved, it almost became a love language for him to do so. While she answer emails for her stay-at-home job—when he was home that is— he would rarely pass an opportunity to either 1: eat her out or two: fuck her while she worked— and trust the universe, he made sure she would take it while working whatever she did on her computer.

He soon got tired of the position and pulled her by her thighs, manhandling her and flipping her back on her stomach. Y/n pushed herself down the bed, her feet touching the ground in front of him. He pushed himself back in, his hands grabbing her hips so he could pull her back onto him repeatedly. His thrust was a little harder, exactly how she wanted right now, making loud pleasured moans to leave her lips— along with many praise for him for how good he made her feel.

She then pushes herself off, causing them both to stand, he gets the hint and pulls her close, grabbing by the throat to choke her. Her vision fades a bit, from the pleasure of his cock hitting her cervix and his slender hand stifling air from her throat. "I love you, honey. 'Missed you at work; 'Could only think of my beautiful girl all alone at home," he says between moans. "My good fucking girl," he growls as he moves her hair from her face just to return to her throat. His thrust never faltered either, his words, and admiration, all pushing her over the edge so hard she went limp. "Did I fuck you too dumb, baby? Awe, my poor baby." He then pushes her face back into the mattress, spreading her cheeks to gain better access to his cock moving into her pussy repeatedly. "Take me so well," he groans, massaging the fatty flesh of her rump.

Y/n was too far into subspace to talk. She could barely even comprehend his dirty words, plus the painful pleasure she had from overstimulation of her recent orgasm was going straight to her head.

He continues to fuck her, eventually picking her back up and carrying her to the bathroom—while fucking her. Her arms wrap around his shoulder lazily, his hands steadily gripping her ass to push her onto his cock repeatedly. He lays her down in the huge circle bathtub, turning the water on and continuing his work to chase his own orgasm. "Baby, fucking love you and your pussy, both of my girls make me so happy," he then doubles over, his face going for her neck, stifled whimpers escaping his mouth traveling from her neck to her ears.

Y/n holds him, her hands rubbing his back as he finishes for the third time inside of her. "I love you too, dear," she whispers. He whimpers causing her to chuckle. "Too sensitive?" She asks, feeling his dick twitch inside of her. He nods into her and she splashes water onto his body. "You wanna take a nap in the bathtub?"

He moves his face to look at her with a dumbfounded expression. "Honey, as much as I love being in your embrace, I don't want to risk you drowning."

#dylan o'brien #teen wolf #stiles stilinski #stiles #tw #stiles x reader #teen wolf smut #teen wolf stiles #stiles x reader smut #mitch rapp smut #mitch rapp #the maze runner #the maze runner newt smut #the maze runner newt #the maze runer #the maze runner smut #the maze runner gally #gally tmr #gally smut #minho #tyler hoechlin #tyler hoechlin smut #tyler posey #tyler posey smut #derek hale #scott mcall #liam dunbar #isaac lahey #sebastian stan #bucky barnes au

[warnersister]

How the Peaky boys react when you tell them you don’t want children (and they do) -> headcannon📽️🎞️

Tommy🪖

🪖He almost thought he hadn’t heard you. He was driving you both back from a family event in which his nieces and nephews had attended, momentarily leaving you throughout the evening to bond with the young children and get you accustomed to the toddler-side of motherhood, subconsciously assuming that you winked be pregnant with your first by the beginning of autumn this year.

🪖“So, did you enjoy spending time with the children this evening?” He asked, flicking the dead bluntness of his cigarette out of the window, satisfied with the nicotine intake he had received. “Yes they’re lovely, parents must have their hands full.” You say, agreeing with his comments on their admirability.

🪖He put his hand quite far up your thigh and smirked, taking his eyes away from the dirt road momentarily. “When would y’ like to start trying for one of us own?” He asked, expecting excitable gasps but all he could hear was a deafeningly tense silence as you almost wordlessly rejected his question.

🪖“Well?” He creased his brows. You looked away and out of the passenger reader “I hadn’t put much thought into it.” You speak small and quiet, presumably nervous to hear his response. “Well we can start trying as soon as we get home, how’s that sound?” He suggested, lightly tapping your thigh to which you squirmed in the leather seat uncomfortably. “Tommy I don’t think I want children.” The car was suddenly lurched sideways and you were grateful the road was private so your husband was unable to cause a crash. “You what?” He asked, car now stationary and his body turned towards you; understandably dominating the situation.

🪖“I don’t want to be a mother.” You say again, voice a bit more quiet this time but still trying to maintain your confidence in your decision. Tommy examined your face to try find some humour, that you were joking with him. “What do you mean you don’t want to be a mother?” “Well Ada gave me her child and I just didn’t want to hold it” “her” he corrects. “Her. I don’t have any maternal instincts I felt nothing, no admiration, no desire, no want. All I wanted was for Ada to take her baby away.” You tell him, spinning the wedding ring on your finger and biting your lips nervously. “No one knows what to do, no one knows how to handle children” he says, assuming you’re just scared “it’s normal to be scared or apprehensive. Heard that’s just a part of parenthood” he restarted the engine.

🪖“Thomas-” “we’re trying for our child when we get home and that’s final.”

Alfie🧸

🧸You owned a bakery; where you and Alfie had met - he’d walked in off the street one day and surprisingly, you must’ve been the only person in Camden not to recognise him. You’d simply greeted him with a large grin, excited to get a customer while he chatted with you and admired the adrenaline fuelled step as you dashed around your little shop - enjoying the appearance of your youth, definitely him being notable few years your senior. He’d ordered some treats, you even had some treats to offer Cyril who you’d asked wait outside for hygiene reasons. “This, yeah, this thing love, it’s bloody lovely it is… hands of an angel you have” he’d charmed, praising your baking abilities as he enjoyed your bakes. Admiring the blush on your cheeks as he serenaded you with words.

🧸He’d left that day leaving you with a sum heftier than the goods had actually been valued at and promised to return. And return he did, every day without fail at 10 in the morning to treat himself and his pup, offering reiteratively to teach you to make some Jewish deserts as the religious population in London was growing. Until the day you’d agreed, both in the back while you were simultaneously running out to greet customers and back to Alfie. You were kneading dough when you heard the bell chime “you’ve really gotta get your fingers in love, yeah, I’ll show you yeah” and he’d towered over you from behind you guide your hands through the mixture. Then a baby’s cry. “I’ll be back.” You say, hurrying out to greet your guest.

🧸A woman stood with a newborn in pram, looking over your selection. The baby wailed. “Can I help you lovely?” You asked with a gentle smile, not noticing Alfie leant against the doorway behind you, sleeves rolled up and caked in flour as he watched you engage with the customer. “Yes, I’d like-” the baby cried louder “erm” she was evidently frantic, opting to pick the baby up and try to sooth him.

🧸“Oh im sorry i cant think straight.” She apologised, cringing at the noise from the baby. You inhaled, not believing what you were about to do. “How about you pick something, and eat it in and I’ll hold him for you to give you a rest.” You suggested and he nodded almost too quickly. Choosing a dessert and you swapped the sweet treat for money and the babe.

🧸You bounced the young child on your hip as he cooed, enamoured by the new face and was now too distracted to cry. The mother relaxed into a chair in front of the counter and savoured the moment of peace, eventually taking the sleeping boy back and leaving incredibly grateful, Alfie almost unable to contain his love protruding from his chest as you turned back around to continue baking. “Back to work” you joked, walking past him to continue on the dough.

🧸“You’d be a great mummy, y’know sweetness?” He muttered, suggestively. You huffed slightly. “Perhaps” your lips pursed and he stopped you kneading. “What’s ’perhaps’ mean, poppet?” He asked you. “Well I just don’t think I want to be a mum.” The man laughed, assuming you were joking. “What do you mean you don’t want to be a mum? I’m getting old now treacle, I’ve not much time left to have little ones and I’d want them to be yours.” He said, holding your hands in his as you refuse to meet his pleading eyes. “Maybe. Not yet.” You mumble, trying to return to work.

Arthur🍺

🍺Arthur had Finn on his shoulders, drunk off his head as he happily paraded his young brother around the Garrison as the party of success roared, Arthur having one too many to drink and now easily excitable.

🍺Finn was happily playing along, bouncing on his brother’s shoulders and clapping to the music drowning out in the background, enjoying the attention he was receiving from the majority of the pub’s inhabitants. Arthur saw you watching the ordeal, bounding over to you to plant a smiley kiss on your lips and you reach up to ruffle Finn’s hair, hidden under your husband’s cap.

🍺“Could have one just like this, what d’ya say love?” He asks, grinning ear to ear but expression faltering when he saw the distaste written all over your own face. He gently took Finn off his shoulders who ran over to John, who processed to spin the body around - scolded by his own wife for nearly pulling the undeveloped youth’s arms off his body.

🍺“Our own little one?” Arthur suggests. You shake your head, small smile. “Not when you keep coming home in a state like this.” You say and his face drops entirely now, sobering up enough to understand the ultimatum you were offering him.

🍺“I will not have children when you come home every day too drunk to think. I will not let our child see his mother carry his father up the stairs because he forgot how to use his own two legs.” You say, pecking your husband’s cheek and offering a disappointed smile before you wondered off to find Polly.

🍺Arthur pondered your words for a moment, before pulling you and grabbing you back towards him, falling to his knees as he promised for stay sober, to get off the drink, he just wanted you to bear him a child.

John🥃

🥃You and John had just gotten married, a marriage you were both unaware of until you were knelt at the alter but still - the two of you had just gotten married and the wedding bells were playing. Neither of you could say you were annoyed with the outcome of this arrangement, neither finding the other unattractive and prepared to attempt to progress in this diversion of your lives.

🥃The reception was a grand festivity, dancing, drinking, celebrating and toasting to the pact and ceasefire between two rivalling families with conflicts decades old. You and John had your dance, him whispering sweet nothings into your ears as if he’d known you all him life and you’d just giggled and blushed and required his advanced with a giddy look upon your faces - like two teenagers in love.

🥃As the evening died down and you’d been escorted to your shared accommodation to last you the night, you finally had a moment of peace and clarity to be able to come to terms with the events of the day, after all, a mere 24 hours ago you were a single maiden merely dreaming of your eventual wedding to a man you’d become enamoured with someday, not a gangster peace pact, but there you stood; having assistance unzipping your dress from your husband John Shelby.

🥃He kissed along your shoulders, to your neck, spinning you around to eventually kiss your lips and continue to consummate your marriage. “How many kids you thinkin’ the ? Five? Ten?” He asked as you lay naked in his arms, a hand drawing gentle cyphers into your skin. “None.” You whisper and his drawings halt and he pulls away from you slightly to be able to look right at you. “That’s not gonna work w’me love. Wanna be dad.” He said, studying the expression on your face. “It’s not that I don’t want to be a mum,” you say - averting his gaze but he caught your chin and drew you back to be unable to look anywhere but him. “But,” he encouraged you to continue. “But my grandmother died in childbirth, as did my own mother. And my sister is coming to the end of her pregnancy and it isn’t looking positive for her either. I don’t want to leave my children without their mummy and my husband without a wife.” You almost whisper, voice cracking as tears gathered in your eyes. John drew you in to offer you a tight and reassuring embrace. “Is it hereditary?” He asked after a while and felt your head shake against his bare torso. “I don’t know. Either genetic or just bad treatment.” You stay in silence for a moment.

🥃“But I’d be willing to try if being a dad means that much to you.” You say, peering up to your new husband whose eyes soften at the admittance. “Well I’ll tell you what, if it was bad treatment no woman of mine would lift a finger while pregnant. You’d stay in bed and I’d cater to your every need, carry you to wherever you need to go. Pay for the best doctor and the best hospital to make sure my woman and my child both leave the hospital alive and well.” He leant his forehead against yours. “I’ll take good care of you if you let me.”

Bonnie🥊

🥊Bonnie always wanted to be a father. Be a dad. Raise his children the true gypsy way with his wife by his side - let them in the audience when they’re old enough to appreciate his fights, falsely tussle with them and let them win as he begged them for mercy and heard their victorious giggled. Oh he couldn’t wait for the day you’d bear his umpteenth child. That day couldn’t come soon enough.

🥊And when he joined the Blinders, he’d fallen head over heels for the young florist who worked tirelessly across the road from the Garrison, carrying Arthur home as Harry locked up shop and he’d still see you working on a bouquet you’d needed for a client the following day. He admired your work ethic and the old fashioned part of him couldn’t help but imagine you working as furiously in a kitchen while you tickled your children for interrupting your cleaning. You’d make a fine wife in his eyes.

🥊And against no wish of his own, one day Isaiah had forced the young lad into the shop with a laugh and you’d peered up at him form over the counted, cutting the final stem off of the roses you were working on before asking how you could be of assistance and you’d be lying if your breath hadn’t caught in your own throat, also - seeing him to-ing and fro-ing from the Garrison with the rest of those Blinder lads and finding his look rather endearing.

🥊“How can I help you?” You asked with a stressed but gentle expression on your face. “How much do you make an hour?” He asked. “I beg your pardon?” You retort, eyebrows creasing at the nerve of the man and you began to question whether your initial judgement was correct.

🥊“Sorry, no, I meant how much would it cost me to steal you for a few hours for a date without you loosing profit?”

🥊And the rest was history.

🥊He’d taken you to his fights, to restaurants, to his home with the travellers, even to a couple of family meetings as you’d already been acquainted with the Shelby men buying apology flowers for their spouses for coming home battered and bruised with no contact for a few days.

🥊It was a Tuesday, business was slow but you still had a few orders to finish and being not-bust himself, Bonnie was there to offer a helping hand to his lady. The door chimed but you couldn’t see anyone, confused; you leant over the counter to see a young boy, no older than seven stood there. “Please may I have a flower for my mummy? She’s very sad.” The boy pouted. You hummed. “What flower would you like to give your mummy?” The boy reached into his pocket and pulled out two coins, a button and some lint “whatever flower this may get me, if you please miss.” You nod and hand the boy a small bouquet of daisies with a bow to hold them together. The lad grinned and thanked you, offering you his pocket change and you shook your head. “All you owe me is your mummy a smile.” You say and he promises, running back out of the shop.

🥊Bonnie came up and hugged you from behind, leaving a long kiss on your cheek. “You’re awfully good with children, darling girl” he compliments and you scoff. “Yeah sure.” You roll your eyes and go back to your previous activity. And Bonnie’s dream world came crashing down around him as he realised your intentions.

🥊“What? Don’t want little ones?” He asked, keying as to why you’d be unable to offer him an heir. “No because I can’t deal with sick, I can’t deal with whining, I can’t deal with crying and I can’t even take care of myself for crying out pigs. How do I take care of a child?” You shake you head, as if the man was daft.

🥊“But with our child, it would be different.” He says and you look up at him noting the sincerity and desperation in his look. “Maybe when we’re married or something.” You disregard. He shakes his head. “Why not now?” “I have a flourishing business and I’m not just leaving it all to be a wife and mother and traveller.” You say, inhaling sharply and he frowns. You will come around eventually. He bargains with himself mentally.

Isaiah♟️

♟️You and Isaiah were upstairs in the Shelby household, getting a few moments of blissfulness together before the rest of your family returned. Especially your twin Finn, who was still unknowing about the blossoming relationship between you and Isaiah.

♟️Isaiah was kissing all up your body, a starved man delving hungrily at his first meal in weeks, leaving piercing bite-sized bruises in places for his eyes only. Places he’d see when he’d draw you a bath after you’d finished doing the Devil’s bidding in your frequenting sinful tango.

♟️The boy thrust into you at a desperate pace, eager to fuck you out in a matter of minutes and prove just how desperate you could be for him, just how quickly he could make you cum under the pressure from his cock and his thumb rubbing quick circles around your clit, mouth silenced by his own as he kissed you passionately.

♟️He pulled back, clawing his fingers into your hips as though you were trying to get away from him - but if anything you were trying to get closer, go reach that release you so desperately craved. “Going to fuck my baby into you. Fill you full with my child.” He promised, thrusting deep and skilfully. You shook your head. “No Isaiah.” His pace didn’t falter but he looked up at you, grabbing your jaw and squeezing your cheeks as if fucking you dumb. “No?” “No.” You say between smushed cheeks. “Don’t want no kids.”he chuckled. “Too late.” And he continued working on his promise, and you were too high on pleasure to argue any further but when he came inside you it seemed all to real, his hand over your mouth to stifle your cries as you came all over him and him inside you.

♟️“Isaiah I don’t want children.” You say in tears, trying to catch your breath but his weight on top of you was too much and he was still buried too deep, desperate not to waste a drop.

♟️“You’ll bare my children whether you like it or not, doll.” He says, stroking your cheek. “Then they’ll have to let me marry you, won’t they?”

Michael🎱

🎱Michael loved parading his fiancée. He’d proposed in a place so public, so romantic, so endearing… how could you ever say no to your charming Michael?” The rock on your finger was substantial despite the promise you’d made him make to not waste his money on some piece of jewellery, but he’d argued that piece of jewellery showed what was his so he’d have to make his as obvious as possible.

🎱And one afternoon he’d found himself free from any Blinder work, able to take you out and dined you at the finest afternoon tea he could find, drinking as his hand lay comfortably on your thighs as you engaged in wholesome chatter about your future together. Discussing a home in the country, him leaving the family business or at least doing the work needed to be done in the green hills of the Peak District.

🎱“-and you’ll make a lovely mother-” he continued but you stopped him “wait, mother?” You cut him off and he nods, nearly confused. “Well yes. Once we get married you’ll leave your job and I’ll lay for that pretty little house you want and you’ll cook and clean and you’ll bare my children.” He instructed, as if reeling off some old fashioned fairytale his adoptive mother had told him of as a child.

🎱“Michael I don’t want to be a mother.” You say, nearly afraid of him. “Well we can start small. Have one and then we can decide how many more we want from there.” “And if I don’t want more” “then we’ll settle with a son. Raise him.” “And what if it’s a daughter?” You ask. “See.” He grits his teeth. “Already thinkjng about gender. You obviously care. You’re just scared.” “Michael-” “you are my woman. You will bare my children and do your duty as a lady. End of discussion.”

Finn🎞️

🎞️Finn was head over heels in love with you since you’d started working at the Garrison that one evening in late June. Harry had hired you after you’d lied about your age, and at this point you’d guessed he’d figured it out by now: he was a smart man, but you’d ran away from home and this job was the only form of income or stability you had supporting you and this crumbing life you were trying to withhold. Well, that and Finn’s arm constantly around your waist - ignoring your numerous rejections until eventually managing a date with you.

🎞️The young Shelby smirked at you from across the room, enjoying the sight of you limping around the bar - sore from last night antics. You were staying with the Shelby family, in Finn’s room, where he was determined to take your virginity and bed you in some dark, twisted fantasy. Pump you with his heir so you couldn’t deny him once more, plus the thought of you plump with a child was mouthwatering and he couldn’t wait to see it.

🎞️You’d started the evening quickly, desperate to rip each other’s garments of and clothes pray after you’d sinned to the devil, advocating for his anti-christian tango as Finn fucked you fast into the sheets. You’d done it iteratively, falling asleep only to be woken up by the boy kissing down your back only to lazily thrust into you again with tired eyes. He’d done it three or four times, until the morning when you’d woken up, his cock still buried deep in your velvety walls, a mixture of both of yours productions pooling onto his bed as he tried to act as a cork to not waste a drop of his productivities.

🎞️So he thoroughly enjoyed the sight, and the falsely-annoyed side glances you’d shoot his way when you were presented with the opportunity.

🎞️It wasn’t out of the ordinary to see new faces in the garrison, well they came every day; whether they be travellers passing through Birmingham or illegal businessmen there to drink and tussle before being thrown out. It was a nightly occurrence. And you expected nothing less this evening.

🎞️It was eight o’clock in the evening on a Saturday, the regular crowd shuffling in other than the Shelby family who had already been seated an hour prior. “What’re you drinking?” An unidentifiable voice asked and you spun go see a man you didn’t recognise, age substantially your senior as he grinned rotted teeth at you.

🎞️“I’m not drinking. I’m serving, however may I offer you Shelby Gin?” You offer, trying to be polite. “I’ll take whatever you’d recommend. I’ll have you if you’re on the menu.” You grimace and poor him a glass, attempting to move on with your shift, unbeknownst to your dance partner seething with rage at the conversation and seeing red fury at a man trying to converse with a Shelby reserved girl.

🎞️He’d asked for a refill, and when you were topping up his drink, he’d reached across the bar to grab your bosom. And before you’d managed to fathom the situation, Finn had lurched across the room and tackled the man, who was laying on the floor clutching his bloodied, broken nose adjacent to Finn who’s knuckles were bruised and dirtied. “How dare you fucking touch her? Touch my pregnant missus? I’ll fuckin’ kill you, y’piece of shit.” And after a few more rough punches and kicks the man was kicked out into the blistering cold of a harsh Birmingham winter, Finn rounding the bar to hug you and calm down slightly.

🎞️Soon everyone was congratulating your pregnancy and asking when the wedding was and after a while you’d managed to pull Finn to the side and question these praises “why did you say I was pregnant? I’m not. And even if I was you know my views, I’m not keeping it.” “I had Polly read your leaves when you had tea this morning. Fucked ya again and again to make sure of it. You ain’t leaving me when you’re pregnant and you certainly ain’t killing my child.” He said, kneeling to kiss your stomach with an evil glint in his eye.

#masterlist #xreader #smut #fluff #warner sister #angst #requests #x you #imagine #peaky blinders #Thomas #Shelby #Thomas Shelby #Tommy #Tommy Shelby #Alfie solomons #Arthur Shelby #John Shelby #Bonnie gold #Isaiah Jesus #Michael gray #Finn Shelby #Alfie #Arthur #John #Bonnie #Isaiah #Michael #Finn #Thomas Shelby x reader

[rindousbbg]

Summery: You guys broke up due to a stupid reason and he's getting you back no matter what.

Genre: Fluff

Warning: None

Requested: No

A/n: took so long, finished it long time ago but forgot to post 😭. Reblogs are appreciated.

Mikey wasn't certainly good at most of the things but love. He never understood the concept of the word called love. Surely he never dated, he was too occupied with gang shit that he never really thought of love and to give any attention towards it.

Until you came and swept him off his feet. You weren't more special than any girl, you were simple and kind like the rest of them. But what made his heart flutter when you respected his passion for his gang? Brought him his favourite snack-dorayaki. When you comfort him all the time whenever he gets upset because of his dead brother. You never left him or made him feel small.

He was very glad because of that but yet after getting into a relationship you both shortly broke up after 1 year. Why? You still questioned yourself.

Was it because you have gotten chubbier? Or was it because you have gotten skinnier and it made you look like a skeleton? Or was it because he was ashamed to call you his girlfriend in front of everyone or was it because he was simply tired of you, your nagging and the simple gesture of being worried for him? You still wonder about that.

But why does it hurt Manjiro so much to look at you with another boy instead of him?? Something isn't right when you are with someone else, you should be with him. He was shameless after practically breaking up with you for no reason and a proper explanation he still wanted you to look after him and only him. Call him possesive but isn't what he is?

"Are you dating him?"

A cold voice spoke out behind you making you immediately turn.

"What are you...doing here?"

You spoke slowly, too shocked to say anything. He was the least expected person to be here.

You were waiting for your name co-worker to come back from the store since you needed some food supplies.

"You didn't answer my question"

"You didn't either"

He blankly stared at you.

"You have bad taste"

"Huh"

You questioned him.

"What do you mean?"

"Your taste has gotten worse"

You widen your eyes at his statement, what does he mean by that? Was he thinking you and your co-worker are dating and that's why he is saying? Or something else.

Questions after questions keep flooding inside your head making your head spin.

"We aren't..dating"

"Really?"

You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his statement.

"What you are doing here anyway?"

"To buy dorayaki what else...don't think I'm stalking you or something"

His tone changed after your last statement, which makes you wonder if was it really because he was relived you weren't dating your co-worker or if was it because he has bipolar disorder.

"Okay, I guess"

You decided to walk away from him. But he keeps catching up with his bike. You stopped in your tracks.

"What do you want?"

"Aight, let's get back together"

You stared at him as if he was talking gibberish.

"Are you for real?"

"For real"

he smiled confidently.

"No, we broke up already"

"Well we did but it was your fault anyway"

He gasped dramatically and shook his head at you imitating a hurt expression.

"You ate my dorayaki".

He exclaimed once again.

"Geez Mikey it was just a dorayaki"

You rolled your eyes.

"See, that's a valid reason"

you stared at him for some seconds and started to walk away as fast as you could.

"Wait!"

"What now?"

He took a deep breath.

"Sorry."

"for?"

"I took this matter too far"

"You did"

He wondered everywhere except you, he was trying to find words to tell you but looks like he could not find any.

"Ken-chin told me that it was too childish and I was immature acting like a kid"

"He is right and you are a kid though"

His eyes darkened.

"I'm sorry. Please don't leave me. I couldn't fall asleep nor eat peacefully"

"So you are bringing me back just for your own benifit?"

He shakes his head.

"No. You are kind of my habit. Just like people can't spend a day without blinking their eyes I can't spend my day without you, I need you. Please forgive me and let's get back together"

"That was... lowkey cringe"

You murmured to yourself.

"I heard that"

"I missed you"

He smiled.

"Hop on my bike already"

You did as he said and drove off somewhere. It was already evening. He stopped, parking the bike somewhere.

"Mikey?"

He hummed.

"Will you leave me ever again? For somebody else?"

You asked him.

"Never."

"How can I believe you? You broke up with me because of a dorayaki."

He realized how big of a matter it was to you. He felt bad for making you feel this way.

"Come here!"

You did and closed the distance between you and him.

"Would you mind?"

He pointed at your lips. You understood what he meant and slowly nodded.

Soon he brought his lips closer to yours and placed his lips onto yours, it was a soft and gentle kiss. Mikey didn't have to say anything after it. The kiss said enough about how he misses you. The slight desperation was visible that he had missed you.

Shortly after, he pulled away.

"I don't know about promises or keeping them but I promise that I won't do that again"

You both stared into each other's eyes once again.

"You sure?"

He gave you a small smile and leaned once again to let his lips collide with yours to tell you the answer.

#tr x reader #tokyo revengers x reader #mikey x reader #mikey x you #tokyo revengers x you #mikey sano x reader #manjiro sano x reader #bonten x reader #bonten x you #bonten x y/n #toman x reader

[its-the-pilot]

Waves | 2 | Rooster x Reader

| 1 | Waves Masterlist | Masterlist |

I hope you enjoyed the first chapter! Here's some more angsty drama!

Summary: Bradley follows you out of the bar to talk and gets an idea of how much he hurt you. (Mav's niece!reader)

Warnings: swearing, adult banter

Length: 2.4k words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Message or comment to join the taglist!

Chapter Two

Coronado in the summer bordered on miserable. It was hot and sticky, even after the sun had set, even on the beach with the cool Pacific Ocean only feet away. Bradley tugged at the collar of his white uniform in the oppressive humidity as he scanned the beach, spotting you almost immediately. You were walking in the sand, stopping after a few hundred feet to take your wedge sandals off, struggling to untie the ribbons that held them to your ankles. 

“Dimples, wait up,” Bradley called, stepping off the Hard Deck’s patio and onto the sand before jogging toward you. 

You cursed and finally got your other sandal off, picking them both up and walking further away from him now that you were steady on your feet. “Don’t call me that,” you said, spinning around to point a finger at him, your voice shaky, but firm. “You don’t get to call me that anymore.”

When he caught up with you, he tried to take your hand but you shrugged him off. “Please,” he begged, continuing to follow you when you walked away again. Seeing you in pain was hard enough, but to know it was because of him made it unbearable. “I just want to talk.”

“How long has it been?” You asked, sandals dangling from one hand as you kept walking. When he didn't respond, you stopped and turned around again. “How long, Bradley? Do you even know?”

Of course he knew. It was the biggest mistake of his life, one he knew he'd never be able to make up to you. “Fourteen years, twenty three days,” he responded, his voice rough. His eighteenth birthday. 

At the time it had seemed like a good idea to him, the thought being that it would hurt you less if you didn't have to say goodbye. So he said goodnight after having an amazing birthday celebration with you, telling you that he would see you the next day, and in the middle of the night he left, taking only what he could carry out of the house in one trip. He'd never forgiven himself for the way he left things, knowing that if given the chance, he would do it all differently today.

Tears stung at the corners of your eyes and you fought hard to keep them from falling. You hated that this was the reaction he was having on you, especially after having pushed the feelings down and away for so many years. The first year, your Senior year, had been the hardest, his departure still fresh. It had been an open wound that damaged your relationship with Maverick, blaming him for Bradley leaving because he had pulled his Academy application. But he was the only family you had left, so when he asked you if you wanted to move to California with him so he could make it up to you, you agreed. Then there was college at UCSD, graduate school, specialized training all over the country… all things you did to keep your mind occupied, to keep yourself from thinking about him. 

When you chose this career path you had known a reunion would be a possibility one day, knowing Bradley's desire to be a pilot. Subconsciously maybe that's why you did it, letting Uncle Ice help you secure a spot at TOP GUN knowing you would be the most useful there. But in the process you suppressed your feelings further, fooling yourself into thinking that even if you did run into him again, if he did come to TOP GUN, that you would be able to tell him that you had moved on. 

Clearly that worked out well. 

“Fourteen years, twenty three days,” you repeated, wrapping your arms around your body, suddenly feeling even more exposed in your sundress than you had with Hangman earlier. “No letters, no calls, no visits… the only reason I didn't think you were dead is because Ice lets me know you're okay.”

Bradley bowed his head slightly, ashamed of himself. So many letters and emails had been written but never sent, so many phone calls made where he hung up after one ring. So many times he drove by the house you lived in with your uncle before you both moved to California, desperate to stop but unable to bring himself to. He couldn't follow through, afraid of not knowing what to say. His fight was with Maverick, not you, but you got caught in the crossfire.

“I couldn't. Maverick--”

Anger rose in your chest again as he brought up your uncle. Yes, he had made mistakes, there was no denying that. You knew their relationship was fractured, possibly irreparably, in those last few months before Bradley left, but it didn't excuse anything, especially how he had treated you.

“You're both to blame!” You cut him off, your words dripping with frustration as you closed the gap between you, a neatly manicured finger poking him in the chest firmly to drive your point home. “You left! You! No one forced you, no one…” a broken sob escaped, derailing your tirade, and before you were able to turn and walk away, Bradley's arms were around you, gently pulling you against his chest. 

You couldn't stop the sobs now, they racked your body as his large, calloused hands ran up and down your spine in an attempt to comfort you. Years of pent up emotion were escaping now that he was in front of you again, and in the back of your mind you admired him for standing there and taking the beating you were giving him. 

 “I'm sorry,” he whispered, his lips against your hair, taking a deep breath of it, letting the memories take over even though he knew he didn't deserve them. “I know it's not enough, but I am so, so sorry.”

His body was solid against yours, even more so than you remembered. It made sense, you knew the kind of physical strength you needed to be a fighter pilot. You buried your face in his coat, his scent invading your senses, the same as you remembered, sandalwood and salt water, but somehow more mature. Nevertheless, it was comforting, and when you felt yourself beginning to relax against him, it took every ounce of strength you had to pull away and put distance between the two of you. 

“I can't do this,” you whispered, barely audible above the waves as you looked anywhere but his dark hazel eyes. The damp spot on his coat from your tears, his hands doing the same nervous twitching he'd done when you were kids, his dress shoes covered in sand. It was too much, overloading your brain and emotions, turning everything up to eleven. 

Turning away, you continued to walk down the beach, hearing his voice behind you as he followed, trying to get you to stop, to talk to him. You ignored all of it until he said your name, finally halting your stride, though you kept your back to him. 

His long strides made quick work of the distance between you, coming to a stop with his body as close as it could be to yours without touching, and he was sure you could feel the heat radiating off of him. It took all of his patience and restraint to not reach out and wrap you in his arms, knowing that was the last thing you wanted right now. Instead he stood there, closing his eyes as he took a deep breath. He was just about to speak when Hangman's voice called out from where he stood on the deck of the bar behind you.

"Rooster, last call! Hit it or quit it, everyone's leaving!" He knew the blonde was just looking for gossip at this point, one more thing to prod him about. But he also knew it was getting late, and he had an early start the next morning with his first day of training.

You heard him curse under his breath after Jake called to him, your own eyes closing as you waited to see what he would do next.

Dropping his head just enough to land a soft kiss on your temple, his mustache brushed against your skin as he frowned. More time was needed if he wanted any kind of resolution to this, and he didn't know when he would see you again. "I'm sorry," he repeated for what felt like the millionth time since he joined you on the beach. It would never be enough. "I gotta go."

"Go," you whispered, afraid that if any more words left your lips you would lose what little composure you had left. You didn't move until you felt his warmth disappear, hearing his heavy steps move through the sand as he got further away from you. Once you glanced back and saw him entering the bar with Hangman, you closed your eyes, silent tears streaming down your cheeks.

After a minute or so you wiped your tears and pulled out your phone, sending quick texts to your coworkers and Penny, letting them know that you were okay and heading home. As you started walking, you knew that no matter how hard you tried, you wouldn't be getting any sleep tonight.

------------------------- 

"Quit it, huh? Disappointing," Hangman commented, leaning against the railing of the patio and watching you walk away with his beer in his hand. The smug look on his face made Bradley want to punch him as he climbed the stairs, not wanting him - or anyone - looking at you, especially not in the state you were in. "She's a complete smokeshow."

"Shut up, Seresin," Bradley sighed, brushing past him. He snuck one last look back over his shoulder as he re-entered the bar, watching you disappear down the beach.

Jake just laughed, following him back inside the bar which was mostly cleared out as everyone finished their last drinks of the night. "After seeing her reaction to you, maybe I should take another shot. At least I didn't get slapped."

Rooster didn't even think before he threw Hangman up against the nearest wall, his forearm pressed against the man's throat. "I said, shut the fuck up," he growled, his eyes dark.

There was a sharp whistle behind his back, but he didn't loosen his hold on the other pilot. "Boys, you better knock it off in my bar," Penny scolded. Hangman raised his hands in surrender, giving a chuckle as Bradley finally released him, pleased with himself for pushing him as far as he had.

"Forgive us, Miss Penny, Rooster here's a li'l sensitive tonight," he apologized with his Texas drawl, bowing his head and retreating when she jerked her head toward the door, signaling that it was time to go.

Once he was gone, the bar was empty except for Bradley and Penny. "Sit," she commanded, her arms crossed over her chest as she watched the younger man take a seat on the piano bench facing her. She hadn't seen him since he was a kid, probably fourteen or fifteen, when he last came out with you, Maverick, and his mother Carole for one of Iceman's promotion ceremonies.

She hadn't recognized him earlier in his uniform and with that mustache, but when the scene unfolded, she put the pieces together quickly. You had told her everything years ago, when you were in school and bartending with her part time at this very same bar before she bought it, so she felt she needed to advocate for you. "Does Pete know you're here?" she asked, looking down at him as he fiddled with his cover absently.

"No," he said simply, not looking up at her, though his knuckles went white when Maverick was brought up. "At least, not as far as I know."

Penny sighed, uncrossing her arms and pulling a chair over to sit in front of you. "And you didn't know she was here." It was a statement, rhetorical based on both Bradley's reaction and yours. She reached out and gently took his cover from his hands and set it beside him, wanting his attention fully on her. "She's family to me, Bradley. She's my kid's favorite person. I don't want to get involved here, but if you hurt her again..." she trailed off, the threat gentle but clear.

He raised his head and met her eyes for the first time, glad to hear that you hadn't completely isolated yourself in his absence. "Yes ma'am." He gave a sharp nod, years of military training and being raised by Carole showing through. "I never wanted to hurt her in the first place." 

"But you did. Now you have to fix it." She confirmed what he had already been thinking, standing and sliding the chair back to the table she had pulled it from, content that she had gotten her point across to him. Since her husband had left her a few years earlier, she had gotten a lot closer with you, accepting your help with Amelia when she needed it.

Rooster stood as well, running a hand through his wavy hair and mussing it a bit unintentionally. "How do I do that? I don't even know if I'm gonna see her again."

"You will," Penny assured him, looking over her shoulder as she finished collecting bottles and glasses from around the bar. She knew when he reported for his first day at TOP GUN, your office would be one of the first stops, as all the new pilots had to undergo a psych eval before they could officially start training. "And when you do, take it slow. Don't push her. She's had too many people betray her trust. Don't be one she has to add to the list." The again at the end of the sentence went unsaid. 

He took the warning to heart, picking up a few bottles himself and carrying them to the bar for Penny. "Thanks. It was nice seeing you.”

"You too, kid," she offered a warm smile. Pulling the rest of the bottles he brought her across the bar, she pointed a finger at him in warning. "And if you wanna fight, next time take it outside."

"Yes ma'am," he repeated, returning her easy smile as he headed for the door, making sure it was closed securely behind him as she was alone inside. He let a ragged sigh escape as he looked around the empty parking lot, the weight of the night's events settling on his shoulders. Rooster had come to TOP GUN focused, prepared to graduate first in his class, and seeing you had thrown him for a loop. Heading for his Bronco, he climbed in and headed back to base knowing that he needed to get his head on straight before training started, no matter how difficult that would be.

Chapter Three

#bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x oc #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw angst #bradley bradshaw fluff #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #top gun maverick #top gun fanfiction #top gun fic

[v4mp-reads]

Hello. I hope you had a great Christmas and New Year. I would like to request a Rhea X Pregnant Reader where reader is due in 3 weeks ( and with Twin babygirls if possible) and is backstage watching The Judgement Day open the show before getting up and walking to get something to eat before getting confronted by Karrion Kross and Scarlett who end up scaring her and sending the reader into early labor. If you can't thats perfectly fine. Thanks and Have a Great Day

Twist and turns

Rhea Ripley x prego!fem! Reader

Tw: struggles with Ivf problems, many failed attempts at pregnancy! Early labor! Small pregnancy complications

word count: 1.3k

Y/n’s pov

I sit in the judgment day locker room alone to say, this is the first time in 9 months I’ve sat in here alone, but no one could sit in because they had a big promo they had to do. I hold my stomach feeling my baby’s move around, I’m so excited to meet them, they are going to be welcomed into such a lovely family. I thought as my mind drifted off to the years before. Me and Rhea got married when we where both 21, that was almost three years ago, this has been a very long possess, i sat up countless nights crying because we picked up yet another negative test, this whent on for about two years until the day i remember it like it was yesterday.

Flash back

Me and rhea sit in our bathroom floor, “darling..you know if this test comes back negative we will have to wait at least six months before starting all of this over” she looked up at me as we wait for the five minutes to past “dont think like that baby. I have a felling this time” i whispered softly, smiling at her, i move from the tolet to her on the floor as she holds me. “Beep! Beep! “ the alarm had whent off, rhea whent to grab the test off the counter when it falls off onto the floor, i glance down at it to see two lines, TWO LINES! I instantly began to cry tears of pure happyness “Rhea! Its postive! We are having a Baby!!” She jumps up picking me up and spinning me around kissing me like a million times, we where so happy, this was actually happening. We stayed in the bathroom for about half our just crying with happiness. Soon we walked back to our room and called the judgment day group chat. They knew today was the day I was supposed to take my test, and we called them every time even when it was negative, we tryed to hide the smile on our faces. Dom was the first to pick up, we waited for the others to join before saying anything. “Hey y/n hi rhea what’s it say?” Finn asked in a soft tone not wanting to hurt us anymore if it was negative. I couldn’t help but smile and that’s when damien caught on “oh my god!! Wait?!” He said loudly over the phone the other two boys looked so confused. “A little baby Ripley is on the way!” I yelled. They all cheered, dom even started crying with me, “oh my god I’m so happy!” I cryed into Rheas shoulder. It was the best day of my life.

End of flash back

In three weeks I get to meet my little girls, three weeks, every thing is planed perfectly, Rheas family is flying out in two weeks, Rhea and the rest of the judgment day are getting a month off in two weeks, I’m just so happy, all this excitement made me really hungry, and I was out of snacks in the locker room. I know I’m not supposed to leave the locker room that was everyone’s rule the second they found out, just because people would bother me to get at the others

I started to feel sick so I needed to get up and get some food, I got up putting on rheas hoodie before walking out of the locker room, no one was really out, so I made my way to the where I know they had food.

I must have made some turn the wrong way because now I find myself in some random hallways that’s kind of scary, I get this wave of anxiety come over me and I feel like I’m being followed so I continue to walk faster, eight almost nine months pregnant with twins, it isn’t easy to walk fast, I quickly realize that I have to turn around this hallways was a dead end. I turn around and instantly get met with karrian cross and his girlfriend or what not Scarlett, “um..” I say softly “miss little y/n Ripley, how are you and your little baby’s doing” karrian reached out to touch my stomach, I quickly stepped back “please don’t touch me” I said fear clearly in my voice “don’t tell me what to do Mrs. Ripley, I will touch you if I want!” He reached out once more this time I backed up and I ended up cornered, “please leave me alone, I don’t want any problems” I start to panic “please, please don’t hurt me or my baby’s, they are innocent, they are pure” I begged. I started feeling horrible pains in my stomach, and I panicked “Mhmm, I don’t know, I don’t know how innocent they are, saying how long it took you to get pregnant with them, what was it I heard? Two years?and you have struggled your whole pregnancy” Scarlett spoke, tears came rushing out from my eyes “please! Leave me alone!” I yell the pain in my stomach becoming almost unbearable. “Hey?!” I hear someone yell, “what the fuck leave her alone” I look up to see one of my close friends Sami zayn. That’s all I really before I passed out.

“Is she okay, are my girls okay?!” I hear yelling as I wake up to see a bright light in my eyes.. “R-rhea..?” I mumble out, instantly her head shoots over to beside my head, “oh my god, your okay, darling, what happed! Why where you in that hallways, why did you leave the lockeroom?” She questioned me, “are the girls okay?” I asked simply, “maam, you are in late stage, early labor, we are transferring you to the hospital, where you should be able to deliver with mild complications.” All I could feel was the pain, from what I was guessing was contractions, it made my head spin. Rhea held my hand as I cryed out in pain as we made our way to the hospital.

We soon made it to the hospital, where I had to be taken in for emergency cessation surgery, i remember waking up to rhea hold our two little girls in both of her arms when I finally woke up. “How are they..”I asked weakly “healthy and absolutely beautiful..just like their mother”she said before carefully handing me the girls “Athena, she’s the one with the darker hair..and Kyra she’s the one with the birth mark on her cheek” Rhea said before kissing me “I love you, I love you three so much” I said softly. “If it’s okay, the boys want to come over in a bit, dom tried to force them to let him come in right after the delivery.” She said softly “of course our girls need to meet their uncles, what about your parents?” I asked her “they are heading down tomorrow” she said.

I slid over in bed as I laid there with rhea and my girls, all three of them sound asleep, it was so peaceful, well that was until the boys got there, dom come rushing through the door, almost tripping when he got in causing Rhea to wake up. “Good going dom dom” I joked and gave him a weak smile, to which he returned with tears in his eyes “why are you crying dom?” I asked “I was just so worried about you, I haven’t slept. I’ve texted rhea and the boys all day, and I just couldn’t wait to meet my nieces when rhea told me that you guys where healthy” he rambled on before Finn stopped him “don’t talk the poor girls ear off”, they all walked closer seeing the two small baby’s in my arms, them asking their names, and us continuing talking, they stayed there for about two hours before leaving because I was tired.

The end! Thanks for reading! If you liked it please leave a request of your own!

Xoxo, v4mp-

#wwe rhea ripley #rhea x reader #rhea ripley x reader #rhea ripley #mami rhea #rhea ripley x fem reader #wwe fluff #fluff #wwe fic #fanfic

[neytirisheaven]

she’s all i wanna be so bad

warnings: no use of y/n, slughorn calling you sweetheart (a jumpscare in itself), regulus being oblivious, slight angst

regulus black x fem!slughorn!reader word count: 1.2k (part two)

summary: being slughorn’s daughter, you were immediately sorted into slytherin, where you befriended the infamous regulus black. throughout your five years at hogwarts, you only grew closer to the youngest son of walburga and orion black, and you just so happened to develop feelings for him. unfortunately for you, a beauxbatons transferee would steal his heart before you could even manage to grasp the fact that he had yours.

notes: THIS IS UNBEARABLY SHORT I’M TERRIBLY SORRY, i wanted to get something out for you guys so you wouldn’t have to go through a long wait!! i do have a part 2 in mind if anyone would like to read it, and while this is definitely not my best work and i don’t really like it.. i PROMISE it’ll get better once i get the hang of tumblr fics!

THE EERIE SILENCE of the Slytherin common room was relaxing at night, the high-positioned windows allowing the dim moonlight to shine through the dark living space. The light crackling of the sparks from the fireplace echoed against the stone walls, and the only other audible sound was the crinkly noises of your book’s pages. 

They had been soaked with water just a day prior, when an entourage of snobby Ravenclaws ‘accidentally’ tipped their goblets over. You were only grateful it wasn’t pumpkin juice, just as they should’ve been grateful that your best friend was there to hold you back from hexing them in front of your professors. 

Everything would have gone red if it weren’t for Regulus. He was always there for you when — wait, where was he? You couldn’t quite remember where he told you he was running off to, only that he had the most shit-eating grin you had ever seen him bear. His pearly-whites were shining ever-so-brightly, and not even the appearance of his parents could dampen his spirit.

Being the most amazing best friend you could be, you didn’t pry and only let him be, ultimately deciding to head down to the common room and read your book in the peace and quiet that came with it. 

“For the love of Merlin, Reg, you’re practically bouncing your leg off,” you had commented during Potions.

Regulus had been spinning his quill between his fingers as if he hadn’t just dipped it into a fresh pot of ink, biting a smile back as he gazed off into the furthest wall of the confined classroom. You were snapping your fingers in an attempt to gain his attention, but your efforts were to no avail. All he did was hum and spit out a “yeah, sure.”

“Have you even been paying attention to any of the instructions?”

“Of course, I have, dimwi—“

And then she walked in. A pretty girl, one of the prettiest you’ve ever seen, with long, luscious, blonde locks cascading down her shoulders and back. You were sure you could run a pine cone through her hair, and it still wouldn’t get tangled. It was like she had some sort of glowy aura radiating all around her.

You hated it.

Correction, you hated the way he looked at her. The way his eyes almost popped straight out of his skull at the mere sight of her undeniable beauty was unbearable for you to watch. 

That’s why he was giggling to himself, you thought to yourself when the whole class went dead silent. Your father shot her a welcoming smile and trotted over to her with his hand extended out. You could make out the small, white paper that the girl held in her hands — oh, Merlin, her hands. They were absolute perfection; her figure itself seemed like it was sculpted by the Gods. 

No wonder Regulus was completely and utterly awestruck.

“Is this the correct class?” Her accent, from what you could tell, was a very thick French accent, a sign that she was from the Beauxbatons Academy. And there was no way you could compete with a Beauxbatons girl. “You are Professor Slughorn, yes?”

Your father nodded his head and led her to the front of the class, “Indeed, I am. You’ve come to the right class! What is your name, dear girl? Go ahead, introduce yourself to the class.”

The girl clasped her hands behind her back as she spoke. Her posture was impeccable, straight enough to hold the whole library on her head if she wished to. Her voice was full of light and confidence, which only added to the already-long list of reasons why your best friend was head-over-heels for her.

“My name is Adaléne, and I am a transfer student from Beauxbatons. Thank you for welcoming me into Hogwarts,” she beamed, her rosy cheeks lifting when she smiled. 

Maybe it was the intensity of your emotions, or maybe it was just the fact that you were a Slytherin, but you were glaring so hard that if looks could kill, she would’ve been six feet underground the second she stepped foot into the Potions classroom.

Your father said a few more things to her and the class, but you had tuned his words out. You only focused back when you felt Regulus’ soft taps on your thigh. Your gaze immediately softened as you looked at him, the sole feeling of his fingers against your leg being enough to bring you down from the rage that was building up inside of you. He nodded towards your dad, who was now looking straight at you with a concerned gaze. 

“Sweetheart, could you and Mister Black fill Adaléne in on the curriculum and the topic for today?” He asked, already bringing the blonde girl over to your table before you had enough time to respond. 

You and Regulus looked like complete opposites, his excited grin contrasting with your deadpan look. For the rest of the class period, you sat there expressionless, watching Regulus and Adaléne flirt with one another. Just watching.

Now, you sat alone on the couch before the fireplace, toying around with your bookmark as your eyes fluttered over the inked words on your pages. Your ears almost perked up when you heard Regulus’ voice trailing through the entrance of the common room, your book becoming the least of your worries. 

You heaved yourself off the green couch and plastered a grin onto your face while you tugged on the knitted sweater you fished from your best friend’s clothes. The sleeves fell just past your fingertips, shielding you from the chilly temperature of the dungeons during wintertime. You opened your mouth to call out the boy’s name, but before a word could leave your mouth, you heard his name leave her mouth.

“Oh, Regulus,” she sighed dreamily, her black Hogwarts robes draping down to her expensive shoes. You could hear her giggle behind her hand, and as soon as the boy’s figure came into your line of sight, your smile dropped.

Regulus had his arm wrapped firmly around her waist, and his face was littered with pink lipstick stains. His cheeks were flushed just as rosy as the color of Adaléne’s lipstick was, and his hair was run rugged from what you could assume was the girl running her hands through his thick curls. Maybe you were jumping to conclusions, but every detail only led you to worse and worse ideas.

You could barely manage to stand there without feeling the urge to vomit or scream. For the few seconds you looked at the two, you saw Regulus’ wide grin when Adaléne cupped his cheeks and beamed up at him, and all you could wonder was why that wasn’t you. 

Your book found its place in your hands, and as quickly as you could, you swiveled on your heel and dashed into your dorm. 

You didn’t even notice the bookmark you dropped, and you definitely didn’t notice Regulus’ regretful, burning gaze piercing through the back of your skull.

#regulus black #regulus black x reader #regulus x y/n #regulus black x y/n #regulus x reader #regulus black fanfiction #regulus black angst

[sw33t-d1vine]

YOU’RE SO CREEPY

SPRINGTRAP x GN!READER

ー cw : fluff , halloween !!!! , just u dressing up as springtrap :3

ー word count , 2671

ー a/n : hii !! october has been so busy.. BUT , in honour of the fnaf movie and halloween , i have this fic !!! im also changing my theme again…. this fic was inspired by my own halloween costume :3 i dressed up as him for halloween…. AND one of the costumes mentioned at the end is a costume my bff went as ! i hope u all like this silly fic :3 i’ll get back to reqs soon !!!

・Enjoy what you read ? come join my discord server to see sneak peaks and chat with me and other friends ! Link in my pinned post :)

ー Halloween was something most people adored, including yourself. This year, you had picked to go as Springtrap for your costume. You had made the ears, customized and DIY’ed the whole costume, and prop. Maybe no one would know who you were going as, but who cared. Maybe you just wanted to dress up as a killer zombie bunny.

Springtrap had yet to even see your costume, let alone even know what you are. You only told him it was a surprise, and he’d have to wait and see. Which he thought was stupid.

That was a few weeks ago. He waited days just to see what you were gonna dress up as, and when you came downstairs all dressed up in your costume, his dead heart almost stopped.

His eyes trailed over your body, looking at every detail on the costume. The fake bones sticking out, the fake wires all hanging out, and the big ears on your head that matched his. You had also done your own makeup, making it look like you had scares everywhere.

You really pulled this costume off, he loved it. Even if he didn’t like his own form, he loved how you dressed up as him. It was.. cute.

You held the fake knife prop you made in your hand, giving him a shy smile. “Thoughts?”

Springtrap let out a hum, “I love it.” He tilted his head, watching you do a spin to show off the rest of it. “Very detailed.. and you made all of it?”

Nodding your head, your smile grew. “I did. Since you don’t come to my room a lot, it was pretty easy to hide it from you.” You explained, fiddling with the fake knife.

“How long did it take?” He asked, cocking his head to the side, his ears slightly flopping.

You thought for a moment, thinking. It really didn’t take too long to make.. You thrifted most of the costume and just heavily styled it and added fake wires and such. “I’d say maybe.. 2 or 3 days. Not too long.” You chuckled.

“It’s still very well done..” Springtrap hummed, glancing at the front door. You had left a bowl of candy so you could give them out to trick or treaters. He wished he could do it with you, but he knows he’d probably scare any kids that came. Which would be funny to him, but you’d probably scold him later about it.

When the doorbell rang, you turned your head to the door as well. “Looks like we have our first trick or treater.” You hummed, walking over to the door.

Springtrap watched you hand out the candies to the kids, one who was dressed up as Coraline, and another was a ghost. How cute.

The night went on for a while, kids coming to the door and you handing candies out. A few kids questioned your costume, and you only said you were dressed up as a zombie rabbit. They wouldn’t exactly understand who you were dressed up as.. but he did. and he adored it.

He adored you.

#william afton #fnaf #springtrap #five nights at freddys #fnaf william afton #william afton x reader #william afton x you #springtrap x reader #five nights at freddy's

[syvspalace]

Reality

.*.•*..•*•.*.•.**•..*•.•.*

Dottore x gn! Reader

Content warnings: Just Dottore, dead body, obsession?, more Dottore, angst? If you squint real hard

A/n: Basing this off of a prompt I saw MONTHS ago (maybe even a year) ‼️

The fact that the 2nd Fatui Harbinger loved you wasn’t new to anyone. In fact, it was known by so many people, some even thought it might as well be an obsession. And it was true, Dottore did love you and he sure as hell was obsessed with you.

Sometimes coming back covered in dirt stains after visiting you, people started shooting him concerned glances. He really did love you and he’d to anything to be with you.

Today, he was going to visit you. After a bit of walking, he finally got to you. Upon seeing you, he picked you up bridal style and started spinning around while laughing happily. It was clear that he loved you more than anything.

„Hey!“ someone yelled.

He ignored this and continued laughing alongside you.

„Hey, you! Drop the body!“ the voice yelled again.

A flashlight was shined at him and he finally stopped spinning. Looking down, he saw your lifeless body in his arms and the grave he dug open to get to you.

„This is the 3rd time this week! Drop it!“ the man yelled again.

He dropped your body and there was an audible thud.

He’d do anything to get to you.

A/n: giggles

#genshin impact #dottore x reader #dottore #fatui harbingers #genshin impact fatui #dottore x gn reader #dottore x male reader #Angst #dottore angst #I feel like this is bad.