#it's been so long since i last wrote something

[secretsandwriting]

heyyyy ryyyyy <333

since ur requests are open i thought id go ahead and ask if you're mayhaps open to anything for batmom? i don't have a completely solid idea but maybe smn like batmom has been getting threats or maybe hate or smn from somebody and everyone's reactions and how they get hella protective?

obv no pressure and you definitely do not have to write this

hope you have a great day bb

Heyyyyy, so this grew hands and wrote itself, I hope you enjoy it. It did end up with a lot of backstory.

Earned Position

5.3k words

You knew this would happen. Once your relationship with Bruce got out there would be an influx of love and hate. You also knew that everyone else knew that as well. It was common knowledge than anyone around a celebrity of sorts would experience that. 

Of course you did the normal things, turned off most notifications and only looked through areas online you knew would mostly be safe. You blocked tags and and only followed people you knew or ones who didn’t post about drama. 

When you did stumble onto hate, you moved on. If someone kept sending you nasty messages you blocked them, when they made other accounts to keep sending the same things, you changed your settings so only those you followed could message you. 

It wasn’t something you wanted to deal with but it was something you could handle. Something you started mentally preparing yourself for when Bruce’s attention on you lasted more than 4 dates, even more so when you caught yourself daydreaming about him.

You were not going to let random bitter people on the internet destroy your happiness like they did their own. Your family however, wanted to destroy what was left of your haters' happiness. Something you were trying to curb, but trying to tell a family of vigilantes who considered you the best mom in existence not to destroy your haters was like talking to a brick wall. Over the years, you had gotten used to it. It barely even registered anymore. But there had been a recent influx of the hate and while it didn’t bother you, it bothered the rest of your family. None of them could stand people talking bad about their mom.

While you hadn’t been there while the older ones were young, the second you had introduced yourself to them, you had taken a very important role in their lives. None of them realizing it at first. All of them had gotten used to the random women Bruce brought home that it took a little while for them to realize how important you were. 

Dick wasn’t sure at first. Thinking you were just another girlfriend that wouldn’t last long. So he didn’t really interact with you much. Ignoring your existence when it wasn’t too rude, or at least obviously rude. Until one night when he was staying at the manor and had a nightmare about his parents death. 

Bruce had an open bed policy. As long as there was still room for him, his bed was open. A policy he had started when Dick had gotten old enough he was worried he wouldn’t be allowed to go when he had a nightmare. Bruce had always reminded all his kids, that nightmares don’t go away just because you’re older and that needing comfort wasn’t something they would outgrow. 

The thing was, you were there. Girlfriends didn’t mind when children did it but they never liked it when his adult kids did it. The shaking in his hands and the way he saw them fall in the darkness of every blink told him the only way he was getting any sleep was with someone. 

Hopefully he could just slip into Bruce’s side and leave before you woke up. That was the plan until he found Damian on Bruce’s side and you had been pulled closer to Bruce taking up what was left. You moved a little and Dick took that as his sign to deal with it himself until he heard you whisper his name. He hummed so you knew it was him and not some random stranger standing over Bruce’s side of the bed. 

“Nightmare?”

“Yeah.”

“Come on.” You lifted the blanket next to you, “Bruce told me you guys come here when you have nightmares. There's plenty of room over here for you.” Dick hesitated for a second before giving in. He needed sleep anyway. You weren’t when you said there was plenty of room, Dick had most of your half of the bed. Once he had settled on his side, facing away from you, he felt you pull the blanket over his shoulders. 

“Night Dick, sleep well.” For some reason, that was what did it. Once the tears started they didn’t stop. Silent sobs made him shudder and he felt one of your hands gently rubbing his back. “Oh Dick.” There was no pity in your tone and he found himself rolling over and curling into you. Your chin resting on his head while you rubbed his back. 

The next day, he followed you around like a puppy. Your side of the bed became his favorite when he had nightmares and it wasn’t long before he turned to you for general comfort over anything.

Jason met you at his grave. Neither of you exchanged words, but he caught something in your gaze he didn’t quite understand. He also wasn’t sure why you were at his grave either, he didn’t know you when he was younger. 

When he saw the Gotham News post about Bruce and Your 2nd anniversary, it brought more questions than answers. Why were you at his grave alone? Let alone longer than a few seconds. It was an odd way to gain more of Bruce’s affections. 

Every Tuesday you would be there, leaving flowers and talking softly to the stone. Every time you left, you would smile and nod, the look in your eyes he couldn’t figure out was still there. Every time he would strain to heat what you were saying and only be able yo a few words here and there. 

6 months into it, the routine changed. You brought a blanket and Basket with your usual flowers. You did what you normally did with the flowers but instead of talking to the stone you waved him over. When he didn’t move, you stopped what you were doing and looked at him. 

“Jason Todd, I have been keeping your secret for 6 months. Helping me spread this blanket and having lunch won’t change it.” He stared at you while you waited expectantly. Eventually when he could get himself to move, he came over and helped. He sat down where you motioned for him too, all while trying to figure out how you knew.

“Bruce mentioned this used to be your favorite when you were younger so I asked Alfred to teach me how to make it. I hope it's up to your standards.” He looked at the plate of food you handed him. It was almost overflowing with food, all of which reminded him of the good times back at the manor before he died. “Alfred also sent your favorite cookies when he heard I would be eating at your grave.” The bag of cookies was placed next to the basket, within easy reach.

“Why?” Was all Jason managed to choke out around the lump in his throat.

“I decided early on in life, no matter who I was with, I would love their family as my own. My grandfather hated my grandmothers side and it caused a lot of pain in all the generations. I decided I would never do that to another family.” Jason found himself back in control enough to start eating. 

“So when I started dating Bruce and he told me about you, I decided to treat you like you were my own. Even though I had never met you and you were dead. Most of what that meant was keeping your grave clean and always making sure there were fresh flowers. While I did that, I would tell you everything that was going on.”

“How did you know it was me?”

“Your eyes, they may be a different color but they looked too similar. So I did a little digging and found pictures of your biological pictures to place the face shape it matched. I think however you look more like Bruce then either of them.”

“Are you going to tell them?”

“As much as I would love to. It’s your choice. You’ve been keeping this to yourself for a reason. If I can help you get to a place to tell them, I would love to. But I won’t say a word until you're ready. However, I would like to keep having lunch with you.” 

A year later, Jason reintroduced himself to the rest of the family a lot calmer than originally planned and was glued to your side anytime he felt overwhelmed that night. Every Tuesday after that, lunch was scheduled.

Tim was nervous when it came to you. He was still living in the manor so he saw you more than the older two. You always seemed nice and respected his privacy but Bruce was always with you so you obviously would. 

It was when he wasn’t around that worried Tim. Bruce attracted golddiggers and they were always mean when Bruce wasn’t there. When you were given a copy of the key, Time braced himself. 

Of course he knew that if he told Bruce anything that happened like that, Bruce would break it off. He had always told them that they came first. But he also knew that Bruce liked you a lot. All the other ones Bruce liked a lot that turned out to be horrible, he broked it off. Tim had seen how it had made him upset and he really hated doing that to him. Maybe he could deal with it for once. 

So when Bruce left for a business trip, Tim was Expecting the worst. What he didn’t expect was for you to knock on his door and ask if you could join him. When he agreed and stepped back so you could come in. He expected you to go to his bed or his desk chair not, the oversized bean bag on the floor.

“I have a question for you but you can’t tell Bruce yet.” Here it comes. “What would a funny way to tell him I know he’s Batman?” Tim wasn’t expecting that one. “I was thinking a lot of batpuns but his paranoia is too bad for that.”

“How did you figure it out?” You walked him through your process and didn’t say anything as he wrote parts of it down. Once you finished explaining the process for Bruce, you explained any way it was modified in figuring out their identities.

“Who do you think I am?”

“Red Robin.” Tim found himself getting excited. 

“You know those notes you leave him in his office?” You nodded. “You should leave those in the Batcave.” You considered it but your thinking was interrupted but Tim shouting. 

“No! One night when we’re all in the cave, you could bring some snacks!” 

“You just want snacks when he’s lecturing you don’t you?”

“Maybe..”

“Alright, but you have to tell the others so they can tell me what snack they want.”

So Tim slowly and carefully went through all his siblings, letting them know you figured it out, Bruce didn’t know, and what the plan is. Every time he relayed a snack to you he’d watch how carefully you’d write it out to make sure you had it correct or look up recipes if you couldn’t find it in stores. 

Two weeks later, Tim was the one who sent the signal in the middle of a lecture everyone was receiving and he got a front row seat to see Bruce’s face when you walked in and handed out snacks before giving him a kiss and telling him to be nice and leaving. 

Any other worries were left in the dust when you helped him win the nerf war for the best seat in the home theater. He thoroughly enjoyed his spot next to you while Bruce swore revenge from the other side of the room.

Damian treated you politely but that was it. His mother was still alive and he didn’t want another one, one was more than enough. Not only that, but you were weird. 

One time when you were over, you found one of his report cards. Immediately you were praising him. He didn’t understand why, he had basically failed one of his classes with an A-. You should be disappointed like his mother would be, not hanging it up on the fridge and telling people not to touch it. Definitely not taking him out for ice cream and calling him so smart. He definitely shouldn’t be feeling any pride when he walked past it, but he still was. 

When he was practicing his violin and Messed up, you were supposed to tell him to stop failing, that he should be better. Not smiling at him and telling him he’s making good progress. You should be telling him that he should have memorized that piece in a day. He shouldn’t be feeling any pride when he finally does memorize it, it took him 4 days to learn it.

When he was struggling to learn a language, you were supposed to tell him to work harder. He could do better, after all, he already knew so many. Instead you just smiled and recommended a break to refresh his mind. 

When he snapped at you in Arabic, he expected you to be upset since you didn’t know what he said and it was obviously not something nice. Instead you set the rule that if he was going to use Arabic to speak to you when upset, that he had to teach it to you and if what he said wasn’t something you had learned yet, he had to tell you in english. When he told you what it meant, you didn’t even get upset. He definitely shouldn’t be as excited as he was when you actually started learning. 

So many more little things piled up, leaving Damian confused. The differences between how you and his mother treated him was so big he didn’t know how to process it, he liked you and all the little things made him happy in a way he hadn’t really felt. But he still loved his mom, When he had enough of it, he asked you to stop. He still wanted to love his mom. Once again, you did something you weren’t supposed to.

“Oh Damian, I’m not trying to replace your mom nor am I trying to make you feel like you can’t love her or she doesn’t love you. Your mom and I show our love in different ways and its ok for you to love or like both of us. You mother loves you and she will always be allowed in your life if thats what you want.” You weren’t supposed to do that, but Damian was really glad you did.

Barbara wasn’t sure how you would react to her. She wasn’t just Bruce’s kid. She had a loving family she went back to every night. Most people weren’t really a fan of that, one of Bruce’s past girlfriends had some strong and hurtful things to say about it. 

When you took her for a day out, she found herself warming up to you but still waiting for the other shoe to drop. One of the new places you had planned to go, didn’t have wheelchair access. Like all the other girlfriends who had done this, she expected you to be annoyed that your plans had to change or you would just leave her outside while you shopped. 

You didn’t seem to notice her hesitation, just looking at what was next on your list and starting the trip there. When Barbara stared a little longer at a new movie that was in theaters, tickets and snacks were bought and you listed to all the lore she told you about before it started.

While it had been a nice day, Barbara wasn’t convinced. One day was easy to fake. Sure she had lots of fun, but Barbara was used to fakes when it came to Bruce’s girlfriends. Of course she wasn’t complaining about you being nice, she just wasn’t sure how long it would last. 

“Did you hear about that boutique?” She looked up from her food to look at her dad. “That new one that you tried to go to with Bruce’s girlfriend? Well there was a report that it didn’t meet the Americans with Disabilities act and the boutique is in trouble. People are speculating they’ll have to close down.”

Later that night, Barbara looked into it. They were in trouble, pretty big trouble from the looks of it. Towards the end of the article she found the name of the person who reported it, she wasn’t sure who she was expecting. Not you for sure but the Name Y/n L/n took her by surprise and filled her chest with feelings she couldn’t describe. 

The boutique ended up closing but a new one opened. Once it was open, you were the first to ask her to go. That weird feeling came back when she wheeled herself up the ramp and through the door you held open for her. Later that night, in the privacy of her room. She decided she liked you. 

Steph seemed like she liked you, she acted like she liked you, she didn’t really like you. Sure you were nice, Bruce loved you, the others were warming up to you, but she wasn’t sure how to feel about you. So she stuck with not actually liking you but pretending to. 

So when she was around you, it was all smiles and jokes. She wasn’t a big fan of it all but she did it because she knew you were important to Bruce and that was enough of a reason for her. She knew Bruce and the others could see through the act but as long as you couldn’t, that was enough. 

When Bruce announced he had to leave for a business trip right before she could hand him the parents visit for one of her AP classes, something the new teacher liked doing. She tucked the paper away. When Tim gave her a questioning look, she shook her head and later swore him to silence. 

Every time she heard someone mention their parents were going, she felt a pang of jealousy in her chest. Every time Tim mentioned bringing it up to you, she swore him into silence again. It wouldn’t be the first time no one showed up for her. She was however thankful you wouldn’t be at the manor as much so she didn’t have to pretend to like you.

When the day arrived, Steph was not having a good day. School dragged on slowly. Slower than normal. When school finally ended, she had to sit in the classroom and watch everyone else that was in her class leave and the parents of her classmates show up while no one was there or coming for her.

Someone sat in the seat next to her, she expected another family member of one of her classmates. Definitely not you. She couldn’t return your smile, too unsure of how you found out, the fact you actually showed up, and how she felt about you being there. You leaned a little closer so that the others in the room wouldn’t easily overhear. 

“I know I’m not your parent and someone you just pretend to like so if you want me to leave I will. But I figured someone was better then no one. Oh, and Tim wanted me to tell you he didn’t spill. Your teacher called the manor because no one had RSVPed for you and I answered it.”

That night, as Steph showed off all her hard work to you, the charade fell. She actually enjoyed her time with you and the boost of pride as you oohed and ahhed over all her projects and listened to her explain all the little details. That night, Steph realized, she didn’t need to keep pretending. She liked you, until she found out you didn’t like her favorite show but a nerf war solved that. 

Cass could tell you were different then the other girlfriends, your body language as you interacted with all of them showed it. However that didn’t mean she knew how to interact with you.

She had learned that she was fairly hard for new people to interact with. She also knew she had trouble interacting with people she wasn’t fighting. So it wasn’t a surprise when it started rocky. 

What was a surprise, was when you found out she was still having trouble reading and writing, you stepped in to help. Well, that wasn’t the surprising part, a lot of girlfriends did that. The surprising part was the amount of patience you had when it was only the two of you. 

When one method didn’t help, you tried another. Never once did you snap at her or call her a name. Everytime you got frustrated you would stop and look at her, say something along the lines of “If I had as much trouble with this as you do, I wouldn’t want to keep trying. You're doing absolutely amazing! I’ll keep looking for other ideas, but for now, lets take a break and get a treat.” 

Cass wasn’t sure why that always made her feel better, but it did. Every treat you brought was something you made just for the tutoring sessions and it always reminded her of what Alfred had told her once. “Something made with love for you will always taste better.”

And when a method that made it a little easier to learn was found, Cass found herself smiling along with your cheers. Bad days where she couldn’t seem to make any progress were always met with the same excitement, cheers, patience, and treats that all the others were. 

Cass still wasn’t sure of what to think of you exactly, but she knew she liked you and that you cared about her.

So when Tim saw the new rise in hate, a sibling meeting was called. They all went through each site, blood boiling as they saw what people were saying about their new parent. Plans were made, declarations of war were ready, and anger fueled all of them. Bruce could tell something was going on, but he wasn’t sure what it was and as long as it didn’t get out of had, he wasn’t sure if he had the energy to deal with it. 

War was declared in an interview by Steph. The lady was asking questions when the topic switched to Bruce, then you. The reporter was clearly trying to subtly find some dirt on you and Steph was not going to stand for it.

“Oh yeah! Y/n! She’s the best!” She put on her best press face. Trying to hide her anger over the hidden intent. She didn’t have to lie or act when talking about you but the change in the lady’s face going to disappointment when she didn’t get anything she wanted was making her look very punchable. 

“She’s always showing up for us and making sure we’re doing ok. If Y/n and Bruce were to break up, I think most of us would go with Y/n.” The way the lady kept trying to get anything really got on her nerves and Steph decided she needed to get out of there before she started using the lady’s face for target practice. You wouldn’t like that.

Cass was the first one to resort to violence. They had asked a thinly veiled question, basically asking if you were a golddigger. So she punched him in the nose and leaned down to flip the camera off. She hated interviews already but that made it so much worse. She hoped you wouldn’t be too upset with her punching the guy though.

Jason, surprisingly enough. Did not get violent… physically. He did however curse one out and threaten him when the reporter implied you were forcing them to say nice things. When the reporter kept pressing Jason broke his mic and told him if he ever heard him talking bad about you again, a broken mic would be the last of his worries. Jason knew you would be disappointed but he had held back, he didn’t shoot the guy like he wanted.

Tim threw his coffee at one reporter because he heard them say you were nothing but a regular person who didn’t deserve any attention. He then took over her segment, threatening the company to air it or he would make sure they went bankrupt. Once he finished his threats, anything he said was praising you name. Telling everyone how amazing you were and how much they all loved you.

Barbara made it a point to bring up everything you did for the community when they tried to throw some shade at you in an interview. She had documents to prove it and hacked their systems to add them into the interview so they couldn’t claim it was fake. She also made sure to run over his foot when she left. 

Dick punched a reporter when they tried to ask him what you were really like behind closed doors. He told them the truth, that you were just as good, kind, patient, and loving behind closed doors as you were out in public. He didn’t throw a punch until the reporter disregarded that as asked again because she couldn’t be that good. Dick knew a lecture would be coming once you saw, but he would rather sit through a lecture then let anyone tarnish your name.

Damian spent 10 minutes cursing and threatening a reporter in Arabic when they asked him if you had ever hurt him. When he was done, he told them in english, that if he ever got asked that question again, he would impale them. He knew you were going to make him sit down and translate everything and the general response you would give but he didn’t care, no one speaks bad about either of his mothers.

Bruce figured out what was going on after Steph’s interview. He saw the ones where they assaulted or threatened the reporters and made sure his lawyers were on standby to keep the kids out of trouble. After all, he had seen more than they had. 

He had watched as you tried to connect with Dick early on, how you worked hard to try and get somewhere. He had woken up before you when Dick had come in that night and heard how you handled it. He had woken up the next morning to find you holding Dick close, like you were trying to protect him from the nightmares. He had seen how you never turned Dick down when he wanted comfort, no matter how serious or silly the matter, and he had heard your excitement when you told him Dick liked you.

Bruce had seen the way you never missed a visit to Jason’s grave, on a visit of his own, he saw how much care you showed the stone marking it as his lost son. While he hadn’t been sure why it was alway the same time on Tuesday, he didn;t mention it. He felt the way you would sob in his arms after each visit, a year after the tradition started, you always said you had promised not to tell and he watched as you kept that promise even if it tore you to pieces. Once the shock and tears wore off for a little bit, he could see the trust that Jason had in you.

He heard the way you questioned if you should have a key to the manor, you didn’t want to make Tim uncomfortable in his own home, or how you questioned if you should visit while he was gone. Not wanting to stress Tim out when there was no reason too. He saw the way you and Tim grinned at each other when you brought snacks down for all the kids he was currently lecturing. He head the excitement in your voice as you told him about the tour Tim had given you of the Batcave and the shared laughter as you and Tim worked together to win the nerf war.

Bruce saw how you worked to give Damian the affection he didn’t think he needed. He felt you crying in his arms upset over the fact Damian thought you would be angry because he made a mistake or struggled in a class. He heard you practicing your Arabic as you got ready for bed and he watched as you stress paced over whether or not you said the right thing to him about his mother. 

He saw how angry you had been when you came back from your day out with Barbara. He had heard your call with your lawyer as you tried to figure out what to do. He saw you going through the laws and making a list to make sure your lawyer didn’t miss any. He heard about the movie you didn’t particularly care about and the lore you remembered in case of another because you wanted Barbara to have someone she could tell all of her favorite things too. 

Bruce saw the pictures you had taken from the school night. He heard all the details from you as you praised Steph’s work. He saw the way Steph stopped acting around you and the silly arguments the two of you would get into for fun. He heard the way you would listen to her as she verbally worked out her problems. He saw the way Steph looked for you in a crowd, the way she knew you were there but not where you stood exactly, the thought of you not being there never crossed her. 

He saw the way you stayed up late, researching different ways to teach reading and writing. He heard the patience and kindness and you worked with Cass. He saw the way you always made a treat just for Cass to have after each lesson because you wanted to reward her hard work. He heard the way you cried for Cass when she had a bad day and got frustrated with herself because you knew she was smart and you wanted her to see it too. He heard your celebrations when Cass made any progress, no matter the size. 

Bruce heard, saw, and felt the way you worked hard to have a relationship with his kids. How you had mourned for their losses, celebrated their wins, and felt their pain. He saw the way his kids blossomed under your care, growing to be better and more confident in themselves. The way you cared for them as if they were your own flesh and blood. So when he was asked about his kids behavior, he said as much. 

“Y/n has worked hard to be accepted by them. She’s given so much of her time, effort, patience, and love and never wanted anything in return. She always shows up for them, no matter what the occasion is, big or small, it doesn’t matter. If they want her there, she’ll be there. Everytime they need or want her, she’s there. She never judges them and treats them as if they were her own blood. Of course their upset and lashing out, people are insulting the woman who has cared for them more then most of their biological mothers.”

Later, a clip of you scolding Bruce and all the kids went viral. While you were scolding them over their behavior and making the kids who had reacted with violence or threats write apology letters because asking mean questions does not make it right to respond badly especially when its someone just trying to start drama. Everyone one noticed that there was no actual bite to your tone and no anger when they all refused to stop acting like that. In fact, there was a small soft smile on your face as you shook your head at your family.

#dc #jason todd #dick grayson #tim drake #fem reader #batman x reader #bruce wayne x reader #Damian wayne #cassandra cain #stephanie brown #barbara gordon #batfamily x reader #batmom reader #batmom #request #cipheress-to-k-pop

[redhead1180]

Sunshine

Pairing - dark!Rafe x pogue fem!reader

Summary - Reader has a crush on JJ, but JJ is dating Kie. Rafe decides he wants reader to get over JJ, no matter her say in the matter.

Words - 3k

Warnings MDNI - NON CON, DUB CON, drugging with E, slapping, physical fight (m vs f), dry humping, alcohol use, drug use, rough sex (p in v), degradation, blackmail, very dark Rafe.

A/N: This is my darkest piece I have ever wrote and of course it's for Rafe. He is mean SOB in this, so if that triggers you, please don't read. Thank you to @haven247 for the beta read. I am nervous about writing this dark, but hope you like it. PLEASE HEAD THE WARNINGS!

Being at a kook party was not your idea of fun, but they had free booze and it was better than a keggar. After the last week you’ve had, you have every intention of getting plastered and trying to forget your crush and best friend was dating someone else.

JJ your best friend since you were 4 and crush since you were 14, was officially dating Kie. And it hurt, a lot. You knew it was coming, saw the writing on the wall, but held out hope it wouldn’t. The only person who knew about the crush, that you knew of, was John B. He was your brother from another mother, and knew you inside and out. You three had been friends so long, you don’t remember a time when they weren’t there. John B has given you hug and told you he was sorry the day you saw them kissing through the Chateau window. He informed you they were dating and you had gone home and cried yourself to sleep. Avoiding them this past week, but couldn’t get around it for this party.

You had watched them dance, laugh, and make out, and were completely ready to vomit. Or wait, was they alcohol? I was in my 3rd concoction of the night and was not feeling much of anything. Well physically anyway.

Anyway, you were in the kitchen getting another drink, when you heard the last voice, you wanted to here.

“Well, well if it isn’t Miss Sunshine” Rafe Cameron sneered as he walked into the kitchen.

“Fuck off, Cameron” I told him, trying not to say more and start something.

“Anyone ever told you have a venomous mouth, Sunshine” he laughed.

“Only to you, Cameron. Everyone else thinks I am adorable and sweet” my voice dripping with sarcasm.

“I bet you taste sweet” he chuckled. I turned around and caught him looking me up and down. He showed no shame for being caught. “What’s got you drowning in booze tonight? Wouldn’t have anything to do with Maybank and Carrera doing the horizontal mambo, would it?”

“You’re such an asshole, Cameron” You go to walk past him and he grabs your upper arm and pulls close to him.

“Most girls that talk to me the way you do get punished” he leered, inches from my face.

So, side note, when I drink, I think I am ten feet tall and bulletproof. And tonight was no exception.

“Let go of me you fucking psycho!” I hissed at him, pulling my arm. Unfortunately, he was so much stronger than me, my arm barely moved in his grasp. “I swear to God Rafe, I am not in the mood for your bullshit tonight.”

“Don’t call me psycho and I think I need to teach you some manners.” he growled right before he grabbed the back of my neck and pulled me in to kiss him.

I instantly started pushing on him and struggling to get free. I bit his lip and he howled in pain and jerked back. I slapped him across the face, not caring this was Rafe Cameron, Kook Prince himself, and no one ever told him no.

He snapped his head back and I looked in his eyes. They were completely black, no amount of blue left, and had a predatory look that actually caused a little fear to creep up my spine. Something else, God help me, arousal shot through to my core and made me soak my panties.

I started to back away and with each step I took back, he took forward.

“Rafe just fucking walk away, leave me alone” I try to sound defiant and flippant, but not sure I pulled it off. His grin was pure evil, reminding me of every Disney villain I ever watched.

*Oh Sunshine, you really shouldn’t have done that” he smirked. I turn to run and get one of the pogues, but he grabs me by my waist and turns me around to throw me over his shoulder.

“You psychotic motherfucker, put me down!” I yell as I punch his back as hard as I can. He just grunts and slaps my ass hard, bringing tears to my eyes and more arousal to leak out of me. My mind was telling me to fight because you hate him, but my body was yelling at me to let him have his way.

He takes you to some room, locks the door, and proceeds to throw you on the bed. He immediately grabs both your wrists and roughly jerks them above your head, causing you to arch your back from the roughness and your tits rub against his chest. The lace bra you wear offered little protection from the friction and instantly your nipples hardened. Rafe chuckles as his free hand rubs over my breasts and pinches my nipples.

“You may not want this, but your body does” he chuckles as his hand slides down over my stomach and to the waistband of my shorts. I continue to struggle, he slaps my bare thigh, causing me to gasp. I know if I looked down right now, there would be a red hand print.

“You’re a feisty thing, maybe we should get you a little more pliant.” He threatens.

I see him reach in the pocket of his shorts, but don’t see anything in his hand when he pulls it out.

“Rafe, what the fuck are you doing?” I demand trying to keep the worry out of my voice.

“Just a little something to make you enjoy it more.” He smirks as he places a pill on his tongue and grabs my jaw to look at him.

“Open up, Sunshine” he murmurs as leans in to kiss me.

I try to shut my mouth, but the hold he has on my jaw won’t let me. He shoves his tongue in my mouth and I feel the pill begin to dissolve as he devours my mouth. God he is a good kisser, I can’t stop myself as I whine in the kiss, causing him to moan. He held my jaw until the pill was fully dissolved, then he lets go, but we continued to kiss. Fuck, what was I doing, this was Rafe, I should be biting his fucking tongue off, yet I didn’t want the kiss to stop. He finally pulls away when air became a necessity.

“What the fuck did you give me, Rafe?” I pant, still trying to catch my breath from the kiss.

“Aww Sunshine, it’s just a little E to make you forget your troubles and help me fuck you without the feistiness.” He smiles down at me. I start to struggle again and hurt him in some fashion. His hold on my wrists and him between my legs really left me defenseless, and he knew it.

“Now let’s get rid of these clothes.” He grabs the neckline of my shirt and rips it down the middle. I screech from shock, and he continues ripping till it is off me.

“Oh Sunshine, you have some beautiful tits.” He groans as he leans down and latches his lips on one of my nipples. I gasp out from pleasure as he sucks, nibbles and licks my nipples through my bra. Thousands of jolts of delight ripple through my body to my core. I began to feel a zing of energy and mixing that with pleasure, I couldn’t stop myself from grinding my hips up into Rafe.

“That’s it baby, let the drug begin to work. Let me make you feel good and forget Maybank for tonight.” He murmurs as he continues his assault on my tits, his mouth on one and his hand, pulling and pinching the other.

“More” I whimper to him, trying to get more friction. He reached behind me undoing my bra and let go of my wrists, I moved my arms so he can get off. My hands fly into his hair to push more into my chest. He grinds down on me and I groan, I feel the heat build in my stomach.

I have a slight moment of clarity, where I thought what the fuck am I doing, when Rafe rolls his hips and the tip of cock hits the seam in my shorts just right to rub my clit and I see stars. I moan out as I squeeze my eyes shut and let my orgasm wash over me.

“Fuck Sunshine, when was the last time you came?” he chuckles, reaching down to unbutton my shorts and take them off. He stands up, using the opportunity of me in a blissful state, to rid himself of his clothes. I look over to him and see his cock saluting me. My eyes wide at how big he was.

“Shit Rafe, I don’t know what you plan to do with that monstrosity, but it ain’t fitting in me.” I say in wonder.

“I’ll make it fit,” he said as he spread my legs and slapped my pussy. I yelped, still sensitive from my release, but it caused a wildfire to spread through my veins. He slapped it a few more times, rendering me a whiny mess. I tried to hide my face, ashamed at how he was making me feel. I knew the E was mainly to blame, but a part of me knew it wasn’t all the drugs.

“Oh, don’t be shy now” Rafe taunted as he pulled my hands from face and roughly kissing me.

Distracted by his kiss, I didn’t notice he lined his cock up to enter me. He shoved it in my soaked pussy and I screamed in his mouth. The pain and burn from his stretching without prep was almost unbearable. Instantly, tears formed in my eyes and I pulled my mouth free.

“FUCK!” I cried out “Rafe, get out, pull out, it hurts so bad!” I cry but he continues to snap his hips into me, even though I was pushing on his stomach.

“Shut the fuck up and take it.” He growled as he grabbed my arm and jerked it above my head, slamming into me faster. I was whimpering, crying mess underneath him. He continued to pound into me, hitting my cervix, lips taking what they wanted from my lips down to my breasts.

“I’ll have you forgetting Maybank after tonight and you’ll only want my cock in this pussy. You’re mine now, Sunshine” he rasped in my ear.

“I hate you” I hissed at him.

Eventually the pain began to be replaced by pleasure, my cries turning into moans as I felt my core heat up and the band began to tighten.

“You keep saying that, but your body doesn’t,” he taunted “you might be venomous, nonchalant, and a raging bitch to the rest of the world, but all you needed was a Daddy to tame that mouth and this pussy. Didn’t you?”

I ignored him, not wanting to agree with him. Suddenly I heard and then felt the smack across my face. I let out a shocked yelp and grabbed face with my free hand. My body betrayed and a rush of arousal coated his cock.

“Oh, you like being slapped huh? When I ask you a question, you answer it, slut” he hissed at me.

“Yes Daddy” I moaned out, before slapping my hand over my mouth, not believing what I just said.

“That’s my good little slut” he teased.

He let go of my hand and reached down with both hands to push my thighs into my chest. I cried out as the new position hit my G-spot and I saw stars. Within seconds, the band snapped in my stomach and I was screaming daddy repeatedly.

“That’s it, you little cunt, cum all over my cock.” He grunted before pulling out and flipping me over on my stomach. He straddled my thighs, pulled my butt up, and shoved himself back into me. I moaned as the new position let him hit deeper. I grabbed the headboard needing to ground myself, as the drugs and orgasm made me feel like I was floating away.

He wrapped his arm around my neck, putting me in a chokehold, snapping his hips into me at such an ungodly pace. I could already feel another release coming. The drugs had all my senses turned up to an eleven, the burning in my stomach, the tingling in my core, the pleasurable pain every time he hit my cervix. I felt that if I had another orgasm, I would fly off into outer space.

“S’too much, daddy” I whine, trying to push on his stomach. “I can’t do it”

He slapped my hand away and smacked my thigh hard, making me cry out.

“You will take everything I give you. You’re my little cum slut now and you will obey me” he grunted. He grabs my arm and jerks them around behind my back, grabbing both wrists with one hand. With his other hand, he grabs hair and uses both as leverage to fuck me harder.

All you could hear in the room were my ‘uh-uhs’ and our skin slapping together. I was close as my walls begin to flutter around his cock, but he was too as I felt his hips stutter.

“You better cum before me or you’re outta luck,” he panted. “We’re not here for your pleasure, only mine.” He taunts as he speeds up getting closer to his release.

I manage to wrestle one of my hands free and reach down to rub my clit. The added stimulation almost instantly makes me fall over the edge, I scream out and clamp down on Rafe’s dick. My body convulses as I have the strongest release of my life, but the E in my system causes me to keep cumming tears falling down my cheeks as I can’t stop.

“Jesus Fuck” Rafe gasps, “You’re clenching so tight I can barely move.”

He forces his cock in and out of me as he pants and grunts. Slamming into me one more time, I feel his seed shoot out against my walls.

“fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck” he hisses. He slowly thrust back into me a few times before pulling out and flip me over. I was essentially a rag doll by this point.

“Oops can’t have any Daddy’s juices spilling out can we?” he smirks, shoving two fingers in me pushing his cum back in me. I whimpered and grabbed his wrist.

“Stop, too sensitive” I whimper out.

“Stop being a whiny slut” he sneers before slapping my pussy a few times. I cry out, tears running down my cheeks. He reaches for his phone and takes a picture of me.

“What the fuck” I snap.

“I need something to jerk off to when you’re not around”

He shows me the picture. I look royally fucked out, mascara and tears running down my cheeks, lipstick smeared all over my face, bruises and hickeys around my neck and chest. He grabs my phone and tosses it to me.

“Unlock it” he demands.

I do without any argument. He puts his number on and sends himself a text, so that he has my number.

“When I call, I expect you to answer and come to me” he demands coldly. “If you don’t, then the whole island will know your just my cum slut and enjoy it. I have evidence.” he grins.

I nod, knowing he had me, because the thought of the pogues, especially JJ finding out made me sick to my stomach. He tossed my shorts and some tshirt he found to me.

“Now you’re gonna get dressed, go back to the party and act like nothing happened. Your hickeys were from some random touran.” He instructed. “The whole time you pine over JJ, my cum will be seeping out of your cunt. Oh, and clean your face up.”

I move slowly getting off the bed. I get dressed and head to the en suite bathroom. I look at myself in the mirror and start to cry. I splash water on my face, cleaning myself up, the whole-time sobbing.

Rafe comes in the bathroom and stares at me for a minute. I turn to face him and he smacks me on the cheek, not hard enough to bruise, but enough to sting and leave his handprint.

“Stop crying like a cunt,” he mocked me, “You enjoyed it, I think I counted three orgasms from you?”

“It was the drugs” I argue.

“Sure, sure. The explain why you were soaked before I gave you the E?” he asked.

I’m looked away cause I had no answer, at least not one I was willing to admit.

“S’what I thought,” he smirked “Now get downstairs, before I change my mind and take you home, tie you up, and use you all night.”

I ran out of the bedroom and went downstairs, looking for my friends.

Walking around, I finally found John B and Sarah making out in a corner. Pope was in another room trying to woo a girl with coroner talk, the poor girl looked scared for her life. The last room I walked into, JJ and Kie were on a couch, Kie in JJ’s lap making out. My friends, wait no family, didn’t seem to have missed me.

I walked into the kitchen and made me a drink and walked outside to one of the patio chairs. My phone dinged with a message.

Remember our deal and no one finds out. Although with as worried as they were for you, not sure they would seem to care.

I downed my drink and got up to get another one, tears running down my cheeks.

How the fuck did I get in this situation and what was I gonna do. All knew was I hated Rafe Cameron and I would find a way out.

Tagging some moots:

@princessmaybank @echo-at-the-pond @babygorewhore @drudyslut @rafescokewhore @rafesc0kewh0re @starfxkr @blueicequeen19 @drewstarkeyslut @pankowperfection @maybankskiss @ch4rrykisses

#outer banks #rafe cameron #obx #tw dark content #dark rafe #dark smut #dark!fic #dark rafe cameron #dark rafe x reader #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x reader

[softspeirs]

The Major and The Nurse (5): Rosie Rosenthal x OC

A/N: I was in an angsty mood when I wrote this. I don't know why -- but have no fear. This is the Happy Ending Factory, after all.

Five. Hearts on Sleeves.

The conversation at the officer’s mess over breakfast is all about word that’s finally come back from somewhere in Germany via the girls in the Red Cross hut about many of the guys from The 100th.

It had well and truly broken Grace's heart to hear that so many of their best pilots and crew members were imprisoned, but at least they were alive.

For the crews, it reinvigorates their will to keep fighting.

Major Rosenthal has never needed more reasons to keep up the fight, but even he feels an extra sense of responsibility knowing that winning the war is what it'll take for their friends to come home.

He hasn't seen Grace in almost a week. First, she was ill, and while he wanted to come visit her, he had two missions around the same time, and since she's recovered, she's been so busy at the hospital that neither of them have had a chance to see the other.

He stopped pretending a long time ago that he didn't have feelings for her that went beyond friendship, beyond the bond between comrades. He feels it especially in her absence, a weight that's settled in between his ribs; an ache that he can't soothe on his own.

It's terrifying -- for one, while he thinks and hopes that she feels even a fraction of the way he does, he doesn't know for sure, and he sure as hell isn't going to jeopardize what they do have.

One of the newer crews took heavy fire on their last mission, and while no one was killed, three of the crew were seriously wounded. Rosie makes a point to check on the newest guys and try to keep their spirits up. He hopes he'll have a chance to check on Grace too, but he suspects she's had her hands full.

The hospital is quiet when he arrives. Late afternoon light streams through the windows, the golden beams casting everything in an ethereal glow. Most men are asleep, aside from one or two reading, writing letters home, or having quiet conversation.

Grace stops short when she sees him enter - she wonders if he realizes how much space he takes up. Not just because of his height, but the way he carries himself. He dominates every room he comes into, even though Grace is sure he'd be mortified if she ever pointed it out to him.

His face softens in a smile when his gaze lands on her, and Grace has to fight herself not to break out into a grin right back. She has been told by a few people that she and Rosie are not subtle, but she doesn't really care anymore. After everything they've lost, as long as it doesn't cost her her job, she's going to take what little happiness she can hang on to for as long as she can.

"Afternoon, Major." She says, her body swaying toward him almost without her control. He still has that soft, soft look on his face. It makes something in her gut tighten.

"I heard congratulations are in order, Captain."

She waves a hand dismissively. "You know I don't care about any of that."

"Still worth celebrating. If you're free...?" He looks incredibly boyish in the moment. She feels so fond of him she almost can't stand it.

"My shift is done in an hour."

He digs into his inside pocket and pulls out a battered paperback. "I can wait. If that's okay."

She nods, and when he gets settled in a chair near the nurse's station, she busies herself finishing up her tasks as quickly as possible. She knows she's not imagining it when she feels his eyes on her more often than not.

Rosie reads the same paragraph four times until he gives up entirely. He just feels so relaxed when he's with Grace - he wants to bask in it a little while before real life comes crashing back down at the first sign of a red light flicking on or a siren starts wailing.

He can tell she's noticed by the way she fidgets like she does when there's attention on her. It makes him smile, but he tries to bite it back. He's content to just observe her, and if she notices, well, then she notices.

It's not long before she gathers her jacket and small handbag and comes to collect him. "Ready?" She asks, and he nods, following her out at a respectable, yet still close distance. "Where to?" She asks, though she mostly already knows.

"Thought we could swing by the mess and get something wrapped up if that's alright."

She nods, and they walk the next few minutes in comfortable silence, the late afternoon sun warm on their backs. He holds the door for her when they arrive, and they're not surprised to find the place mostly empty.

He nods at Jack Kidd when they pass the table, a steaming cup of coffee in front of the Air Exec who looks like he hasn't slept in days. Grace frowns, and stops for a moment.

"Major," she says, and her tone is a warning and an accusation all wrapped up in one word.

"I'm eating early today so I can get some shut-eye, Grace." He says, and she nods in satisfaction. "The last time you yelled at me was enough."

"I didn't yell-"

"No, but you wanted to." He says, eyebrow raised in challenge.

"Eat your supper, Major Kidd. Then off to bed."

"Yes ma'am." He smiles around his fork, shaking his head. Rosie watches on in amusement.

"Duty never ends," Grace says, sighing with a chuckle.

"I think you like being a mother hen." Rosie counters, both of them picking up a tray from the long table at the end of the hall.

"Not all the time. I wish some of these grown men would learn how to take care of themselves."

Rosie puts his hands up as if to say I'm innocent, and Grace laughs. Together, they gather up their meals, and sweet-talk the kitchen staff into providing a couple paper bags to haul their loot in. Once packed up, Rosie leads her towards the hardstand where they often find themselves this time of day.

His plane is a beauty during golden hour. Looking over at Grace, he thinks the same thing of her.

"Are you feeling better?" He asks around a mouthful of a sandwich.

She makes a face at him talking with food in his mouth, but nods. "Much. I needed the sleep, even if it came with a cough and a three-day headache."

Rosie hums in sympathy. "And then you were right back in it."

She nods. "The three new crews - had a rough go of it. But you already know about that." She swallows heavily. "The fighting is getting worse. They know something big is coming." She pauses, meeting Rosie's eyes. "How are you holding up?"

He shrugs, shaking his head with a nonchalant look. "I'm fine."

Grace narrows her eyes. "You're fine." She repeats, flat.

"I mean-- yeah. Yes. The invasion will be soon, that's no secret. We're all just waiting to find out when it is."

"And you don't have any kind of..."

"What, doubts?" He interrupts. His tone is sharp in a way she has rarely heard it, maybe only for when he first got back from Coombe House. "I don't... no. I don't have doubts."

"That's not how I meant it, I know you don't doubt yourself or your crew. I just meant... you're not nervous at all? This could be-- this could be massive."

"It will be massive. The biggest mission any of us have flown." He set down his food a long time ago - the wrapper fluttering gently in the breeze between them. An awkward silence settles between them and Rosie hates it. Hates that he can't tell what she's thinking, what she's really trying to ask him.

"And you're not..." Grace gestures vaguely. "I just-- I know you're the best, Rosie." He has to stop himself from reacting at her easily-given praise, her words meaning more to him than she realizes. "I just worry that you keep everything so close to the vest. I worry it's going to come out when you're not expecting it."

"You think I'm going to crack?" His voice is incredulous. He knows this isn't personal. This is Grace, who cares about him, who, at this point in his life and in these circumstances, knows him better than just about anyone else. But it feels like an accusation.

And the way he's felt this last week without her company, without her steady presence... it starts to feel like the distance between them has been intentional, and that hurts.

"No!" She's quick to rebut. "You're getting me all wrong." Her eyes are pleading, but they're frustrated too. "I just-- you reupped without a thought--" he tries to interrupt, but she stops him. "No, I know you thought about it, obviously, I just mean that you did it so quickly, and I just want you to be honest about how you're feeling about it all. You've been here over a year now, Rosie. I can't be imagining the toll that can take."

"I'm doing my job. I just-- I have to lead them, Grace. There's no time for-- for processing any of it." He knows his tone is bordering on irritated, and he tries to tamp it down.

He thinks of the Doctor at the flak house. The one who couldn't understand why Rosie was so annoyed at the prospect of playing croquet for five days when he should have been back in the seat. He never thought that he'd be having an extremely similar conversation with Grace of all people.

"But you won't even be honest with me!" She protests, scooting closer until their knees touch. "And if you won't talk to me, I know you're not talking to anyone else who can help. Which makes me think you're just keeping everything you feel inside. It's not sustainable."

Their proximity makes his head feel fuzzy, like it always does, but he shakes his head, still frustrated at the turn their conversation has taken. "I'm fine, Grace. I'll say it a hundred times if that's what it's going to take to get you to believe me. There's no point in reliving my missions or-- or trying to think back on stuff from months ago. I already do that in interrogation, and that's enough." He can hear his accent thickening with irritation, and he hates himself for directing it at her, even if he's not looking her in the eyes as he speaks.

Her hand on the side of his face startles him. His ice blue gaze meets her dark eyes, and he could lose himself here, he knows he could. He feels soothed in an instant. He has a wild urge to tell her with actions what he can't quite get out of his mouth.

"You know why I was sick for a week?" She asks. "I hadn't slept for two nights before I came down with a fever so bad I was dizzy with it. I hadn't been feeling well for days, but had pushed myself because I thought of everyone else besides myself. Finally my body made me listen." She shrugs. "That's why I was worried about Jack, and that's why I worry about you. Because one day you might not be able to keep it in, and you may make a mistake."

His larger hand covers the one still pressed gently to his face. He leans into her touch, incapable of letting the moment pass without appreciating her warmth. "I need you to trust me." He says, words tinged with hurt and irritation. "Please."

"It has nothing to do with trust." She says. Tone mild, but he can read the flicker of annoyance in her features that they're not seeing eye-to-eye on this. Her hand falls away from his face. Right away he feels bereft.

"Grace--" He tries, but he can see the moment has passed.

She stands, brushing off her jumpsuit. "I'm not angry with you and I hope you're not angry with me." Her smile is sad, and it makes him want to reach for her, to pull her back down and go back to two hours ago when she had been so close he could smell the clean, sharp scent of her shampoo and see the flecks of color in her eyes. "A long time ago I told you if one day you didn't come back, it would well and truly break my heart, Major Rosenthal." She shrugs. "I meant it then, and I can't even begin to tell you now how I would--" She stops, inhaling a shaky breath. "I just want you to look after yourself. I know how smart, how capable, how talented you are. But so were Majors Egan and Cleven, and look where they ended up. I can't bear the thought of you in a place like that, or worse."

"I'm not going to go down."

"You don't know that for sure. I just want you to be safe. And that means up here too." He looks up at her, head at knee level, as she reaches down and taps his forehead gently, alluding to trying to keep his mind healthy. "I'll see you tomorrow."

He's speechless as he watches her leave him. He doesn't think, aside from his parents and sister, that he's ever had someone care about him the way Grace does. It scares him, and it makes him defensive, because he knows deep down she's right.

He won't ever agree with her that he needs to bare his soul to her or another doctor or anyone else about what he's seen and what he's survived, but he does know that when he's up the air, she's down here, waiting and powerless to do anything to help him.

On the ground, all she can do is make sure he's in fighting shape, and - he thinks of her touch to his forehead - he wants to go after her. He wants to catch up to her, pull her into his arms, and tell her that he's confident he'll come back every time because there's just no universe in which he leaves her behind. It's been true for a long time, but she should know it.

He wants her to know it.

Instead, he lets her go. Resolves to let them both cool off, find her tomorrow, and make sure she knows he understands. They've been dancing around each other for so long that he knows he owes her that bit of honesty at least.

It's time he makes her some promises, if she'll still hear them.

#softspeirs mota fanfiction #rosie rosenthal x oc #rosie x grace #oc: grace fleming #masters of the air fanfiction #mota fanfiction #mota fanfic #masters of the air fanfic

[failedaethercore]

Another chapter

So...I wrote that last mini fic I posted, but had this brewing for a couple weeks in the back of my mind, so...I just wrote it.

Obviously (if you read the last one) this is only my third fic ever. So I apologize for any inconsistencies or poor writing. I'm trying to improve.

Enjoy, and please feel free to let me know if you have any requests, I am willing to try!

Pairing: Rafayel x MC (reader, usage of "y/n")

Content: Some drama, mostly fluffy at the end.

✧𖤐✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧𖤐 ✩

Rafayel twirled his paintbrush idly in his fingers, he was distracted, lost in deep thought as he remembered your last visit.

He had always put up a strong, flirtatious front. He always winked and smirked, and said something to put you on edge, especially when he could pull a clever innuendo out and make you blush first.

But more often than not, your straightforward and candid remarks, gentle and innocent touches, would drive him wild, causing his ears to turn a deep shade of pink. His blood would boil in his veins, unable to control himself whenever your naiveity showed, while you drove him closer to the boundary between respecting your boundaries, and tipping over the edge into taking what he wanted.

You had forgotten. Again. And that in and of itself was enough to drag his heart into depths of sorrow reserved only for those who lost their soulmates to the deep undercurrents. So when you fell back into his life…heh…more like, he tempted you as subtley as he could. The coral he had ground into paint was no mere coincidence. He knew what he was doing, and had hoped that somehow, in some way, you would be pulled in.

He had heard of your new position as a Hunter, so he had hoped you would be a part of the investigation. When Thomas let him know via text a Hunter had come to investigate his paintings, specifically the one that Raymond had bought before his death, he wanted to sing. But when he discovered it was you yourself, he was ready to dance as if there was a bonfire in the center of his studio. He was selfish to drag you back into his life, but he was done being the silent observer. His heart had grown too impatient, too ravenous.

Too weak.

But he gave in to the temptation, finally. His heart had won, and he was slowly playing this game with you, trying to tempt you to choose him, one more time.

Except…

Every small glance, every tiny smile, your angry face when you argued with him, the way the light reflected in your eyes when you laughed. They made his heart beat faster, his temperature rise, and his eyes darken. It would make sense to him, except you were so innocent now. Your memories would flash in your dreams, but never linger long enough to make him feel comfortable to reveal the truth. When you would mention those dreams…or sometimes, nightmares, his heart ached and growled against his ribcage, begging him to tell you. But you would remain in the dark until the day you remembered on your own.

He couldn't thrust the past sins of both your lives onto you, when you were innocent now. He would wait to let those memories resurface on their own, and let himself enjoy the time he has with you now, before the burdens of history rip you from his arms again.

He got to see you often right now, and you had come to rely on him, even if only a little. His heart sung when you would call him out of the blue, or send him a poke for no reason. You wanted to see him, to hear him, you wanted him to think of you, too. But he never needed a reminder to think of you. His heart would never let him forget you, even when he had wanted to. You were his soul, his devoted follower. His heart of itself.

✧𖤐✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧𖤐 ✩

But now he was consumed by the thoughts of you, as it had been so long since he last heard from you…your recent silence was driving him slowly mad.

He dropped the paintbrush when the phone rang, his thoughts had dragged him far away into the depths of the ocean to reminisce. At first, his irritation overwhelmed him, but then he held a glimmer of hope. Could it be…?

It was Thomas. He left a voicemail mentioning an upcoming interview for a magazine. He had been really putting the pressure on him lately to be better at his media presence. But he sighed angrily, and threw his phone across the studio. It fell with a thud under the sofa, as he reclined against his elbow, sitting halfway up his ladder and staring at the unfinished painting before him.

The blurred smears of color weren't right yet, and he was already annoyed because of that. But you hadn't called him in two weeks. He knew you were on a mission, but the fact that you hadn't so much as checked in once yet, he was ready to snap. You usually at least sent him a text or something by now, just letting him know you were alive.

He refused to text you first, he wasn't the needy type. He meant it. He wouldn't cave. He wouldn't give in. You were the one being childish. Not him. He would hold out until you came to him first.

But when Thomas called again, and wouldn't leave a voicemail, but kept ringing back again and again until Rafayel picked up… He finally picked the phone up from under the sofa, and sighed as he answered. So when Thomas was saying that his bodyguard had ended up at Akso Hospital in critical condition, he didn't hesitate to drop everything and run. He didn't even bother to remember his phone, let alone change out of his wrinkled and paint-splattered clothes. He drove like a madman, the wheels of his sports car squealing whenever he took a turn too hot, and he didn't even apply the brakes if he could avoid it. Running lights whenever he could, if it weren't for the fact that the roads were quiet, he would have been pulled over and arrested for endangering the public.

He pulled into the emergency vehicle loading zone, parking and dashing in, ignoring the shouts of the understandably frustrated paramedics and drivers who now had to deal with his haphazard parking job. He sprinted to the reception desk, immediately asking for you by name.

"And what is your relationship to y/n l/n?" The gentleman behind the desk was clearly exhausted and overworked, nearing the end of his shift, as he glowered up at Rafayel's handsome face. Rafayel didn't even miss a beat, stating bluntly, as if you had agreed ages ago to this arrangement. "My fiancee, she's just been admitted in critical condition, where is she?" The gentleman takes a moment, before making a quick and quiet call to someone on the phone. After hanging up, his face hardened into indifference, as he looked up at Rafayel and motioned down the hall. "She's already been admitted to room C127. You can wait outside until the nurse is done in there."

Rafayel strides to the room without so much as a nod, and grabs the door handle. Before he can open it, he hears a long, painful groan from inside. Your voice. It sounds like you're in agony. He throws it open, shouting your name before the nurse can shush him for being loud.

Your body is laying on the hospital bed, weak but still very much whole. Scratched and battered, and clearly not doing well, but you are not missing anything that he can see. Maybe some hair got chopped off somehow, but you look beautiful to him regardless. He would love you even if you came back as a sea cucumber in the next life, he didn't care.

So when you locked eyes with him, startled by his shout and the slamming of the door, your blood ran cold. You had dropped your phone at some point, the screen shattered and the special hard case you had gotten completely useless, so the entire mission your mind had nagged at you at how worried he must be. You spent all your time teasing and sometimes flirting, but you hadn't been able to shake this feeling that you needed to tell him something more. Your thoughts had drifted to him frequently while you were out on your mission.

So when things started going wrong, and you mean very wrong, you couldn't let him know to wait for your call, or to assure him you were going to be okay, that your wounds were mostly superficial. His eyes, piercing and intense, bore a hole into your heart as if he was trying to make you pay for your betrayal, as if you had broken a promise from centuries past that you had made with him. You quickly tried to cover yourself in a defensive position, even from the bed.

The nurse immediately began to scold him, but he ignored her, as other staff began to run over at the shout. He was about to be escorted out, when you called his name. "Rafayel…" He stopped struggling against the orderlies in that moment. "Y/n! Tell them! You're my fiancee, are you not?!" You blinked through tears of fear, the repercussions of your actions would be indeed steep. "Yes! He is my fiance! Please, let him stay!"

The staff release him soon after, deciding to let it go. Before he could take a step into the room, he was pushed past by a tall, black-haired doctor. He felt familiar, but he couldn't place him. The door was shut shortly after with a cold, short "please give me a moment, she is my patient." And Rafayel stood there, dumbfounded. And a little embarrassed.

He glanced around as people whispered and stared, until he went to sit down outside the room on the chair, and folded his arms impatiently.

He was tapping his leg in annoyance until the door opened again. He stood and watched as the doctor left. He noted now that he was very handsome, and a pang of jealousy gripped his heart as he watched him solemnly nod to you in the room, and then ignore him on his way out. The nurse left shortly after.

You were laying there, in the room. You looked a little haggard now, as if the doctor's words had drained the energy out of you. He strode in, reaching your side in three long steps, only to grab your unbandaged hand and squeezing it.

You were looking down at your hand, as you tried to brace yourself for the barrage of questions, accusations, and the inevitable fight. But suddenly you felt tears on your hand, as his eyes blankly stared at you, large tears rolling down his gorgeous face. Your eyes locked onto his, and he nearly burst into an argument on the spot.

But you held your other hand up to stop him, before he could vent his anger. "I know. I messed up." His eyes softened as he took your other hand and pressed it to his cheek. "Don't do this to me, y/n…" The tears wouldn't stop, he was so angry. He had stayed home for weeks, absolutely worried sick over you, and the first thing he learns is that you've been injured like this, and you just ignored him instead of letting him know yourself.

Then he saw tears, returning his overwhelming emotions with your own. "I'm sorry…my phone…it got damaged…" You keep your hand clasped in his, the other still gently stroking his face. His eyes softened until he found himself holding you, his face buried in your neck. "Don't you dare ever do this again. Never again. You have to tell me when things happen…you must come back to me. Every time. In one piece." Before you could make another move, he scooched you over so he could sit beside you and hold you close. "This is why I hate your work…why can't you just be my bodyguard, and never leave my side? You're not supposed to be hurt like this, y/n…"

You wrapped your arms around him and held him for a moment. Your partner had kept you mostly safe, as he could handle himself, but you had fallen down a hill because of a misstep, which was the main cause of your obvious injuries. This was the first time in a very long time you had needed so many bandages, you usually just needed a quick patch on your way home. But this time you had messed up. You were such a clutz sometimes. But you would berate yourself later.

This man, this beacon of confidence and light-hearted whimsy, who always came bounding into your days with a smirk and a witty retort, was trembling in your arms, as if his world was shaken to its core. You stroked his back and buried your face in his collarbone, sighing softly in his warmth, as you waited for his quiet sobs to subside.

✧𖤐✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧𖤐 ✩

He was on top of your treatment plan after that, talking to the nurses, and even Zayne, your primary care physician. They were cold and calculated with eachother, and Zayne seemed especially displeased when he now knew the supposed relationship between you two, but you knew it was because Rafayel had wanted to see you right away, he didn't want to be hindered at the entrance. He didn't love you like that, but you were happy that he cared so deeply, nonetheless.

Zayne took him aside and spoke with him frankly in private, and you couldn't help but overhear some of what was said outside the door, as Rafayel was questioned mercilessly about his intentions, if he was lying, and if he truly even cared for you. When he flat out stated that he loved you and would die for you, your cheeks bloomed red, and you sat frozen to the spot, unable to move ever again.

When a nurse brushed past the two men glaring eachother down outside your hospital room, you were forced to focus on something else, as she mentioned you should be able to leave tomorrow, as your injuries turned out to be almost all superficial in nature. You had been covered in blood, scratches, and some severe bruising when you had arrived, but there was no internal bleeding, no deep gashes, no major bloodloss. Your Hunter partner was elsewhere in the hospital receiving treatment, and she advised you to be more careful from here on out, as she wouldn't be there tomorrow to see you released. The scolding smarted, but when the two men came back in after the nurse left, the room's atmosphere dropped to a point below freezing, as the two of them still hadn't reached an understanding.

"Um…Rafayel, this is Zayne…he's my doctor, and childhood friend…uhh…Zayne…this is Rafayel…he's…" you trail off, unsure what he was to you. Were you just friends with a deep bond? You didn't want to overstep his boundaries, making assumptions on his behalf. "Her lover." He stated flatly, still glaring at Zayne with a firey rage. Zayne maintained his aloof nature, glancing away from Rafayel to look at you. Your bright blush returned as you didn't argue the point in any way, and that seemed to answer the question he had.

"…I see." He nodded curtly to you. "Then I will leave you two to talk… Make sure she gets plenty of rest after this, and don't let her move around too much, she's still wounded." He turns to leave, before you have a chance to say anything to the contrary, and you are left in a storm of emotions, overwhelming and causing your heart to bob in your chest like a buoy at sea. Did he mean that? Did he want that…why would he say that to someone so important to you, without asking you first…you swayed between anger and fear, to warmth and joy at the idea that he wanted you to be in a relationship with him like that.

Before you can speak, he puts a finger to your lips. "Shh. I'm not going to force this, but…I was honest, what I said." Your heart flutters at that. Normally you wouldn't be swayed by his words like this, but his eyes were full of honest determination. He held your hands as he looked into your eyes. "I'm going to let you choose. But know that I want this…" He kisses your knuckles as he continues to stare into your eyes, holding you transfixed.

You gave it a lot of thought before you gave Rafayel an answer, and surprisingly, he didn't push the issue. He did spend a lot more time with you lately, making sure you ate and relaxed. He kept an eye on your bandages while you healed, and kept your mind busy with games and chatter all day when he dropped by. He almost lived at your apartment for a few weeks, so much as to even meet Xavier on his way home from the hospital himself. The two also didn't get along, and you found them outside your door having a silent argument, when you came out to see what was taking him so long to come back with the snacks.

"R-rafayel…this is Xavier…he's my partner. We go on missions together." Rafayel's eye twitches with jealousy at the mention of it. Xavier gives a faint smirk of smugness. "Xavier…this is…Rafayel…h-he's my…l-lover."

And in that instant, Rafayel's heart burst, and his smug smirk outshone even the sun. You had made your decision in that moment, without having any thought behind it. It just felt right. Xavier nodded quietly. "Well…I'm back, we'll talk soon at work…" Xavier turned to leave, and you gave him a smile and a quick "uh huh". Before he had taken even a step, Rafayel was pulling you into the apartment and shutting the door behind him.

You let out a scared gasp as he pinned you to the wall beside the door, and looked into your eyes, searching, pleading that it was true. "…are you sure?" You swallow hard, blushing deeply, before you let yourself finally nod silently. He smiles brightly, and takes your face into his hands gently, before placing a soft kiss to your lips. "Good. I was growing impatient."

✧𖤐✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧𖤐 ✩

a/n: I wanted something that pulled on some of the lore that really made you think about how Rafayel approached MC in general. I dunno, writing this made me happy. ♡

#love and deepspace #rafayel #love and deepspace rafayel #xavier #zayne #love and deepspace xavier #love and deepspace zayne #fanfic #fanfiction #rafayel x mc #neer writes

[running-with-kn1ves]

Sleepy Afternoons

A/N: Teehee ngl I just wrote this as a period comfort fic indulgent for myself. I hope you nerds enjoy it as much as I liked writing it!

CW: AFAB reader on period, jokes of breeding, using a dragon as a heating pad, pretty much just fluff

WC:2000

Synopsis: A lazy Sunday, the perfect start to a week on your period where you'll be constantly pestered by your dragon boyfriend.

A dragon’s hoard in times long before consisted of fine jewels and immense mounds of gold, shiny objects as far as the eye could see. Whether it was stuffed in the depths of a cave or deep in the forest, a hoard barred spikes and “DO NOT ENTER” warnings; whether they were legible or not was never up to the righteous dragon’s responsibility.

Adventurers and bandits never heeded these signs of caution, getting stuck in the narrow holes meant for dragons to shimmy through or meeting their demise through puzzles and endless booby traps-- such monsters were thorough in keeping their treasure safe. Any item that caught the creatures attention could be found in their rich reservoirs, even if they were mere wave-smoothened stones from a lake, an old lover, or a prettily decked-out concubine that was too tempting not to take. 

That however, was centuries ago. Dragons, like the rest of us, must conform to modern society, technology too powerful and people too abundant to go around flying and terrorizing just to get one’s hands on a pretty penny.

Your boyfriend, once a ravenous creature with a cave of glittering gems and fine craftsmanship-- that he may or may not have maimed many blacksmiths to steal-- now resided with you in too big of a bedroom. You had argued before buying the apartment; who would need this much space? But his hoarder tendencies clearly made up for the abundance in space. Gaming consoles, silvery granola bar wrappers, aluminum dollar store trinkets, books with glittery covers-- the floor was almost unseeable with his trash and treasure mixed together. He wasn’t necessarily dirty-- in fact every item had its own spot and preferred place, which is why it killed a piece of him any time you threw away something that should not be “decorating” your shared home. 

Though as you practically took care of both of you, it was hard to keep up being the caregiver in the relationship. Especially, on your period. Sunday, what a perfect day, to realize you had a whole work week ahead of mood swings and lower abdominal pain, all mixed with the gory massacre you’d face every time you went to the bathroom. Your cramps didn’t usually come in this early of a start, but it seemed like nothing was going quite right today.

“T’s wrong, darlin’?” Your draconic, crusty-eyed boyfriend mumbled into your back. “Somethin’ hurting…?”

He had been asleep since noon, ignoring the stream of yellow shining down on him from between the cracks of the blinds. But with those poor eyes and slightly above average listening skills, he completely ignored the sun and heard your groans of pain as you curled into a ball. The aching in your lower tummy was like hellfire, crisp burning and somersaults of your organs unlike any other pain than usual. Nothing was helping, no cold rags or medicine, it was like your infinite headache and body pains were destined to consume you. 

“C’mon baby answer me, I wanna help..” He pouted again.

“Just my stomach..” You downplayed, not sure if you could handle his frantic coddling if he realized you’re period started. The last time you made the mistake of doing so, you had pads stacked to the brim in your bathroom cabinets and tampons in your closets, the mass shoplifting endeavor of his creating even less space in your home. Well, atleast you were set for the next fifty-seven or so cycles.

 “I just need to rest n’ I’ll be fine, soon…” 

Another wave of pain came through, head ringing as soft nails raked up and down your sweating back. 

‘When will this be over,’ you wondered. 

Maybe that horrible breeding endeavor your boyfriend was always obsessed with was worth it if it meant you wouldn’t have to suffer through this for nine months. Yeah, just nine months of morning sickness and bloating and growing a whole dragon-human parasite inside of you. But hey… the making part wouldn’t be too bad, and atleast you would be crotch-pain free. 

Man, now the pain was really talking through you.

“Yer period, right?” Your dragon wonders, scratching the back of his head. He’s more awake now, and you wish he was still passed out grabbing onto you, even through the sticky sweat from his body heat. “I’m sorry baby…I know it hurts. What’you want me to do?”

“How’d you even know..” You groan, almost annoyed at how keen he is. Next thing you’d know he’d be shoving some pretty pawn shop jewelry for you to hold to distract you from the pain.

“I don’t think.. You want to know. And well there’s the obvious, I noticed you changed the bed covers.”

Oh lord, was he talking about that split tongue-nose smell-ability ‘dragon thing’ again? Could your embarassment get any worse?

“Does that mean you’ve… EVERY TIME? Every time you knew?”

He sheepishly fell into the new sheets of warmth, those dark eyebrows lifted in innocence.

“Sometimes before you knew, I think.”

Officially, you wish your boyfriend was asleep again. Maybe you’d just strangle him to end this mind-numbing conversation. 

“What can I do?” He repeated. “Get you more pads?” 

“No.” You shut him down as soon as the words left his mouth. 

“What then? A snack, more pillows? Now’s the time to be babied, you know. Unless you’d be okay with me coming to work with you--” 

You groaned, partly to shut him up and to vocalize the squeezing, contracting inside of you. 

His clawed fingers came to cradle your belly, right below your belly button on your pelvic muscle. He rubbed, just gently, back and forth with a slight pressure as your head buried into the sheets beneath you. 

“Just this.. is fine..” You murmur, feeling hot, humid breath exhale against your neck, emerald green slits baring into your twisted expression. He was watching you, the way your body reacted, the little signals of discomfort. 

You heard a slight flutter of his wings as they adjusted, his body fitting against yours like a puzzle piece; it was nice to be the small spoon again, rather than cradling your needy dragon lover like a cocoon as he so often desired. 

The dragon slowly pushed a leg between your bunched knees that stuck together, getting easier access to your tummy. His palm was so warm, as the torso flushed behind you kept a reassuring prresence. You almost turned on your back to get his palm farther against your stomach, the slight pressure and warm temperature soothing the ache in your lower back and groin. 

“You know… I could always breed ya, then you wouldn’t have to--” 

“Don’t try to convince me right now.” you spat, turning into him as his hand worked magic, the other brushing hair off of your neck and cheek. “That’s not an option, especially right now.”

“Well, at the very least I can make you feel good. Might ease up some of the pain, yeah?” He laid back down to lean in closer. 

You sighed; he clearly didn’t understand the discomfort and embarrassment that his oh-so keen intimacy would bring you right now. You loved the sentiment, and maybe you’d be up for it if you weren’t solely thinking about your physical misery, but you barely had the fortitude to look back toward him. 

Your dragon buried his flared nose into the top of your head, lined against you like a perfectly shaped heat blanket. 

“You wouldn’t even have to do anything.. I’ll do whatever makes ya feel better.” His other hand snakes beneath your hip against the bed mattress, pulling you back toward his body even closer, if possible. The warm, spiked fingers tapping alongside your pelvic bone made your skin spark, your lower stomach buzzing with numbed pain and a fullness that made you want to sleep for another week. “I don’t like seeing you like this.” He frowns. “Your face.. You look so, uncomfortable.”

“Wow, thanks.” You jab, feeling a heated tail slither up your knee, to your thigh. It almost flicked in apology. “Mm.. Just stay my heating pillow and I’ll be fine.” 

“I can do that.” The confidence in his voice worries you, knowing he’ll do an unnecessary load of more than you asked for. Your fetal position was gently yanked free, a pounced creature on your back as you’re forced onto your stomach. “I’ll be the best spiky heating pad you’ve ever seen.”

The strong, scaled forearms of your draconic spouse come to wrap around your hips, a burning touch ringing from his skin, worming his way beneath your comfortable pajama pants and shirt, skin on skin as his body temperature rises to accommodate your desires. His forearms seem to ripple against you, fingers tickling your sides as his legs trap against your thighs from above, most if not every length of his body pulsating against yours like a live, scaly cocoon intent on making you his personal plush, and he your sweet, warm monster. 

“Feel better baby…” He kissed at the nape of your neck, sandpapery forked tongue popping out to lick away your sweat. “It’ll be over soon.. I’ma make it all better.”

You leaned deeper into the stuffy mattress sheets, the pressure on your abdomen welcomly encouraged as you push as far as possible into his fiery hands.

“I’m betting on it.” You muffle into the pillows, squirming your hips against his his body, warm chest and carved quadriceps surrounding you. The slight pressure of his inner thighs against your hips was welcoming, his mounted position atop of you seemingly odd to an outsider-- but you didn’t care how weird it might’ve looked, as the calm of your gutted abdomen took over. 

You yawned into the side of the pillow as you turned your head, lifting your hips just a little to soak in the heat radiating from behind you. 

“Awe’d, so sleepy huh? Need a little nap?” the dragon behind you poked. 

Who knew a murderous, millenium-old dragon would be sweet-talking you so gently-- just a few centuries ago he was murdering travelers for stumbling just a few steps too close to his prized hoard. 

“But I just woke up.” You protest, upset at the sleepiness of the afternoon that was rubbing off from your draconic lover on you. “Got too much to do, can’t lay in bed all day..like you.” 

You groan into the pillow as a wave of cramps hit you, only slightly set ajar by the gentle massaging of the skin above your pelvic bone. 

“Hrmm.” Your boyfriend thinks, shoving his warmly snout against your neck. “I guess it’s unfortunate that I’m not going to be letting you go then. Not allowed to get up until you feel better.” 

You laugh, taking one of your dragon’s toasty hands to your chest to hold onto. 

“I’ll be here all week, then.”

It was here you felt the safest, the warmest, the most vulnerable and easily devourable-- well, thankfully dragon’s didn’t particularly have a taste for the flesh of humans. Shutting your eyes, you let the guttural ‘hrmm’s’ of your dragon lull you to thoughtlessness. 

“If that’s what it takes..” He presses a deep kiss close to your forehead, relishing in the sweet scent of your hair. The huffs from his nose tickle the back of your ears, such petrichor warmth and humidity so reminiscent of past lazy mornings. “You’re not going anywhere, my diamond.”

#x reader #reader insert #writing #self insert #Terato #monsterfucker #monster lover #monster romance #monster boyfriend #monster fucker #monster fuqqer #monster x human #dragon #dragon x reader #draconic #dragon x human #afab reader #period comfort #comfort fic #monsters #monster fiction #monster fic #dragon fic #dragon fluff #fluff #fluff one shot

[ilovetopgunsstuff]

overdue

joe burrow x reader

prompt: joe cancels last minute on you because he got caught up at work, and he makes sure you know how he feels about you when he gets home.

warnings- smut and fluff

a/n- promise i will be answering some of my requests soon. this is prolly ass because i wrote it kinda fast but i love it thx bye

Joe was a busy guy. It was always something. He had practice, or a meeting, or a conference call, or something. Of course you couldn’t blame him. He was pretty busy during the season, but was practically glued to you when he didn’t have anything to do.

The last few weeks, though, Joe was sooo caught up with work. When he got home for the night, it was so late that you were usually already asleep. If you weren’t, you knew he was too exhausted to do much anyway. He’d give you a kiss, head to the shower, and pass out next to you shortly after. He’d always apologize, but you knew he really couldn’t control it. So despite your frustration and loneliness, you said nothing.

Today would be different, he pulled some strings to get home around 8 so y’all could have dinner, watch something on TV, and enjoy each others company. It had felt so long since you did something like this, so it felt like a special occasion. Tonight, you were cooking his favorite meal. You grilled chicken, made potatoes, and sautéed asparagus. It was about 7:30, and you would be done right when he got home. Your phone rang, and seeing his name on the screen, you perked up.

“Hey!,” you said cheerfully into the phone.

“Hey…” His voice was soft and already apologetic. You knew the news before he even told you.

“You’re not gonna make it home?” you sighed into the phone. Your voice was almost a whisper. You wanted to cry. How was it every day that this happened? Was he doing it on purpose, trying to send a hint? Was something else going on than work? Tears already brimmed in your eyes.

“I’m so sorry. Something came up way last minute. I can’t make it, baby. I’ll be home late.”

“Okay.” Your voice cracked, and you knew he heard it. That’s all you could say. The silence on the line was so loud. What else did you have to say? You sat with your phone to your ear, the excitement in your posture leaving you. Your shoulders slouched and you could hear his breath still on the other line. Self-consciousness swallowed you. Was this a sign that it wasn’t working? Was it only a matter of time? “Well I guess I’ll see you later tonight.” Your voice was quiet.

“Yeah.”

Without any goodbyes or anything, the line disconnected. You weren’t sure who it really was that hung up. You were just in a haze. You finished dinner silently, eating alone standing at the counter. You made sure to still make Joe’s plate, though. You put the perfect amount of everything he liked on his plate, making sure no foods were touching like he liked it.

Maybe it would give him a small surprise when he got home, as he didn’t know you were cooking it. He could eat it when he got home and you were inevitably sleeping. It wouldn’t be as good as eating it with him, but hopefully he’d still like it.

You packed up the food to put on the fridge in a silent, melancholy state. You placed his plate on the oven for him to find when he got home. It was in the shower that you cried, shoulders wracking with heavy sobs of loneliness and fear of losing him. You were so frustrated. You couldn’t blame him, but that didn’t mean you weren’t still upset. You sunk into the soft sheets of the bed after putting on pajamas, slightly cold without his body next to you. Hot tears slid down your face silently as you dozed off.

Joe’s POV:

As silently as I could, I unlocked the door. I dropped my bags on the floor and the clock on the kitchen wall said it was 1 AM. I stretched and rubbed my eyes, exhausted from work and weighed down with guilt. Of course I couldn’t control being busy, but i shouldn’t have promised her that I would’ve been home if I wasn’t completely sure. I did, though, cause hearing her pretty excited voice on the phone after telling her I’d come home brought me to life, but hearing it get quiet after I called it off earlier made my chest hurt. It was dark in the house except for one light on in the kitchen. It was the light on top of the oven. There was something there.

I walked closer to the oven and my heart dropped to my stomach.

Fuck.

There, on top of the oven, was my absolute favorite meal, made by her. You could tell she plated it with care, the food not touching exactly how I liked it. My stomach hurt and so did my chest. Guilt surged through me painfully. There was a note too, and it made me want to quit my job entirely.

I’m sorry you couldn’t make it home. This is for you if you’re hungry. I love you so much. We’ll find the time.

Her pretty cursive carved my heart out with its sweetness. You wished she would just yell at you, tell you off for taking on too much and upsetting her. But she never would, cause she’s an angel, and supports me through whatever I do. How will I ever make this up to her?

Regular POV:

Joe crept up the stairs, trying not to wake you up. You had an ear for him though, and roused when the door creaked open.

“Oh hey,” you mumbled at him. “How was work?”

“Don’t worry about that,” he murmured. He stripped down to his boxers, and crawled into bed. He dragged you under him and engulfed you with his arms. “I’m so so sorry,” he said into your hair.

This sudden intimacy and affection was unexpected, and your eyes immediately watered with tears. “I’m sorry, Joe. I know your so tired and I don’t want you to feel bad.” You voice cracked to a whisper as you started to cry.

“Hey..” he said gently as he flipped you on top of him to look at you. You sat on his lap, tears streaming down your face in the moonlight from the window.

“I just miss you,” you breathed, crumpling onto him as he held you. Your body shook slightly with quiet sobs as he held you.

“I know, angel.” He rubbed your back and whispered on your ear. “I miss you so much. You know I love you more than anything don’t you? Huh?”

He grabbed your face, holding it gently with both hands as he looked at you. Your watery puppy eyes looked up at him, and his heart tugged. He wanted you to know that you really were his priority.

“I have been a very bad boyfriend. I’m so so sorry,” his blue eyes looked earnestly into yours as his blond hair messily fell in his eyes. “I don’t want you to think I’m doing this for no reason. I know we can get through this. I’m working like this because I want you to be able to have whatever the fuck you want every time you want it. You deserve it. I know it’s so hard. I’m really trying for us. And I want you to know it’s all because of you. “

It felt like you were melting into him.

“This is for you, and you only. If for one second I thought I’d lose you over this, I’d leave in a heartbeat. You have been a saint about this whole thing. Please just give me a little more time. Don’t give up on me. I love you so so much.”

Your hiccuping sighs were all that was left as you stared up at him. “I would never give up on you. I love you.” You relaxed fully on to him, cherishing what he feels like to touch and smell and experience.

It didn’t matter where you were, or what time it was, or what was happening around you. He was the only thing you could focus on or care about.

He pulled you in and kissed you gently. Running his hands across your middle, seemingly trying to memorize everything. He went under your shirt and cupped your breasts, lowering his kissing to your neck. He removed his hands from your shirt and placed them on your hips, which he firmly gripped as you lazily grinded on him. Small whimpers escaped his mouth as you did this, encouraging you in your lovesick state.

Joe gently unbuttoned your pajama shirt, the silk material sliding down your body slowly when he undid the last one. He caressed you gently, in no rush to savor you.

“So beautiful,” he whispered into the cool air of your bedroom.

You couldn’t respond as you focused in on his gentle touches. You were so honed in on how lightly he caressed you, afraid that if you didn’t savor it, you’d miss them. Small, quiet moans escaped your lips in ecstasy. You sat up to drag his boxers down his soft skin to where they didn’t limit your contact with him at all. You sat up, shorts still on, and ran your hand across his length, honing in on his tip. You massaged him, and his head lolled back onto the pillows.

“Yes,” he whispered.

The slowness of both of your actions was torturous and incredible at the same time. Endless touches and whispers disappearing into a night that was only your own. You slid down your shorts, anxious to finally have him. Joe looked angelic, soft tan skin glowing in the twilight. The blue of his needy eyes was nearly palpable. His roaming hands never stopped for a second. You lowered your self onto him slowly, a gasp being released by the both of you when you finally reached his hilt.

He pulled you into him, wrapping both arms tightly around you on top of him. He thrusted up into you, allowing you to remember every inch. Neither of you spoke, though you doubted either had the ability at the moment to form words. Your breathy moans filled the room, pleasure mixing together as you clung to him and he clung to you. The air was thick with need. For eachother, for touch, for everything.

Everything seemed to morph together despite the slow pace. It had been so long since Joe could show you how much he loved you, and god were you overdue. Finally, his thorough thrusts quickened slightly as he came. Your nails left trails down his back as you reached your high. All you both could do was cling on to each other, repeated “I love you’s” said into the air.

The work was worth it for him, so worth it.

#joe burrow bengals #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow smut #joe burrow #joe burrow fluff #cincinnati bengals #fanfic

[blacktacmopsi]

Hanging Fire: Part 2.

---------------------------------------------------------- | Hesh X Female! Reader X Keegan | Smut (MDNI) | CW: Oral Sex, DP, General Smut |

The second installment of this too long piece of pure smut. God, the last time I wrote something this long it was... like...back in 2020 or something? Idk. So yeah, Hesh, Keegan, and you are still stuck in the outpost shack and now things are getting heated up, but far from over. This hot piece of porn garbage is spilling over into a part 3. I'll upload it all together in one piece on my AO3 though once I'm done.

Authors note: I didn't really proof read this and again, so sorry it's turning out so long. Request tags for @soapsgf @mudisgranapat

< Hanging Fire: Part 1

----------------------------------------------------------

You exhaled a breath you were unaware you were even holding. Though your logic told you this was an awful idea, your desires were screaming at you. You liked these two men, A LOT, and here they are agreeing to sex. How could you not pass this up?

“Fine, okay then,” you speak. A slight smirk tugs at the corners of your lips as eve you yourself can't believe what your saying.

As soon as you agreed, Hesh wasted no time and moved in to give you one of the deepest kisses you’ve ever had in your life. As soon as his lips touched yours, all doubt about this idea being horrible vanished in an instant. Replacing it was total desire and that deep need for physical touch. God, how long had it been since you were kissed, let alone got a good one at that? How long had it been since you were even touched? It didn’t matter anymore. All that was about to change in a matter of seconds. Hesh’s lips were so soft, and his kiss was reminiscent of a wildfire-  ravaging, strong, and all consuming. Who would have thought that this man you’ve seen shoot and stab others could be capable of such passion and desire?

Perhaps sex & death really did go together.

Hesh too was feeling the intensity build. He himself had gone so long without physicality from another woman for what felt like a lifetime. His body had known no comfort since before ODIN struck and ever since then, his hand and imagination were his only consistent companions.

“Oh god…need to reign it in…don’t want to cum from just a kiss…” he thought to himself. Breaking the kiss off, he pulled back to look at you, noting your now flushed pallor. He too was blushed and he hadn’t even removed a single layer of clothing yet. Caressing your cheek, he meets your gaze.

“Goddam, what a great kiss,” he pants as he looks at you. Hesh really wants more. His body is screaming bloody murder at him for more. He can’t ignore what has been so longed for, not while he has already tasted your lips...and oh, how they were just divine!

“Fuck it,” he leans in and begins kissing you furiously, as if the survival of you three depended on it. As his tongue forces its way into your mouth, he’s violently ripping off his plate carrier, shirt , and anything else that gets in the way of his chest pressing against your bare breasts. You yourself begin doing the same, urged on by his own blazing passions. The cry of your flesh for his is too strong and your clothing seems likes such a hindrance. You didn’t care that you haphazardly tossed them to the dirty floor covered in god-knows-what. You didn’t care then neither of you had showered for days and were grimy and sweaty. None of that mattered. All that did matter was that primordial need to be fulfilled. That itch of mother nature to be scratched…and oh, was it going to get scratched by the two men who got your pulse racing and your clit twitching. You could feel it burning deep between your legs as that familiar flood of heat and slickness makes itself apparent to you.

While you and Hesh were becoming a flurry of hands, skin, and lips, Keegan, ever so silently, observed. He too was feeling that blaze of need and passion ignited by you and Hesh. He shifted his stance as his cock began to stiffen at the sights and sounds coming from your mouths and bodies. It was only when Hesh nipped at your neck causing you to moan significantly, that any fragment of control Keegan had left, shattered like a crystal wine glass. He began to remove his tactical vest and shirt, tossing them aside too, not caring about where they landed. All he could care about was needing you, needing to feel the heat of your breath, the touch of your skin, your very taste. Moving over to where Hesh and you were, Keegan now joined the maelstrom of unbridled desire and lust.

Sitting on the dingy cot, Keegan pulled you onto his lap while Hesh fell to his knees before you. His fingers frantically worked the belt, button, and zipper of your pants, yanking them off, leaving you exposed and vulnerable.

"Hold her legs open for me man," Hesh whispered.

Keegan nodded and slid his bare hands between your thighs, forcing them open to reveal your aching pussy.

"God...you have no idea how long I've wanted this," he groans as he moves forward, gingerly touching your soft folds. His fingers carefully explored and brushed up against your swollen clit causing you to whimper. Keegan and Hesh both took note of that, and Hesh decided to up the lust ante further.  Dragging his tongue along your slick slit, you seized up on Keegan’s lap, gripping his thighs tightly as the shock of ecstasy washed over every fiber of your being. Hesh wasted no time getting what he’s been wanting. The heat of his breath on you causes you to gasp as another jolt of much needed pleasure surges through your body. Keegan can't help but look down, watching his younger team member in action. In doing so, feels his cock harden further and begin to weep with his own need causing a deep moan to escape his throat. He isn’t going to be able to just sit with you on his lap much longer.

"How's she?" he asks, drawing in a deep breath.

"Like heaven man, like heaven."

Hesh keeps lapping at your aching cunt, burying his face in your core. His tongue teased your wanting entrance, and he took your swelling clit between his lips to suck lightly. As his mouth was busy, Hesh began to unfasten his belt and unzip his pants. His own cock began to strain against the fabric seeking much needed freedom and attention. As he shuffled his pants down a bit, Hesh pulled his boxers down just enough to free his throbbing cock, stroking it lazily. He groaned as he kept pleasing your sensitive bit, sucking on it only to release it with an audible 'pop'. Relentlessly, he took it back into his mouth and continued, determined to amplify the whimpers that were already escaping you.

“So good…so damn good,” Hesh muttered as he was face deep in your slickness, too concentrated on savoring you.

"You like when he does that to you, sweetheart? You like how he makes your pussy feel?" Keegan's voice was low and dripping with raw unfiltered lust. Up until now, he had been silent, but that was now gradually changing as he began to speak more and more. He turned his head to whisper in your ear.

"We can both make you feel that good. I know you've thought of us and what it would be like."

His words sent a shiver down your spine and a flood of fantasies in your mind. As Keegan kept voicing his desires, Hesh flicked his hazel eyes up at you from between your thighs, his tongue painting strokes along your folds. Pulling away with a thread of saliva and your wetness stringing between you & his mouth, he stands up and leans forward, towering over you.

"I never knew you tasted that great," he purrs right before he kisses you once again. Keegan's hands snake forward and seek out your slick and swollen pussy, rubbing you & slipping two fingers inside drawing a more impassioned moan from you.

"Damn kid," he chuckles "you got her good and ready."

Hesh looks down at Keegan's fingers sliding in and out.

"Wanna trade places?"

"Oh, fuck yeah!"

Keegan eases you off his lap as Hesh now takes his place. You can feel his stiff cock pressing against you as he begins to grind it against your backside. Keegan, now between your legs wasted no time on picking up where Hesh left off. He spreads you open, raises his mask, and begins to lick at your wetness and sensitive little clit. All the while soft moans escape his throat with every rock of his head and flick of his tongue. For Keegan, it had been way longer than Hesh when it came to entertaining the lusts for the female form. He was definitely not squandering this opportunity in the slightest.

"Oh baby, you like how the Sergeant does that? Is he making you feel nice and good?" Hesh teases as he keeps grinding his hardness against your backside. His hands reach up to start caressing your bare breasts.

"You wanna know how often I fantasized about these tits of yours. What it would be like to hold them...," he squeezes lightly.

“To pinch them…,” he whispers as he rolls your nipples between his fingers.

“To suck on them,” he breaths into your ear.

Your entire body feels like its about to be overloaded just from Hesh’s words, not to mention the way Keegan is on his knees servicing your needy, swollen pussy. You can’t even muster the strength to speak properly even. All you can do is whimper and moan and gasp and sigh… and hope that these two men don’t stop for even a mere second.

#call of duty ghosts #cod ghosts #call of duty #keegan p russ #cod keegan #keegan cod ghosts #keegan cod #keegan smut #BlackTacMopsi Writes Garbage #hesh smut #cod hesh #david hesh walker #hesh walker

[snucius]

After Nagini's bite, Lucius found Severus instead of Harry.

(TW: Major character death, past mpreg)

***

"No!" he cried, kneeling in front of the man he loves so dearly. "No, no, no!" he repeated deliriously. He put his hands on his younger lover's neck, where he was bleeding to death, and applied pressure to stop the bleeding, but it was in vain.

"Lucius," a weak voice said. With his last ounce of strength, he grabbed the blond man's collar.

"Sev, you must have something on you, a-an antivenom or something... a-anything to save you" he was clearly crying. Anyone would do in his position. "Please" he begged. "Give me something to save you, please"

"No, love" Severus gasped. With blood filling his lungs, it was becoming more difficult to speak. "Daysha" he finally managed to say. "You must look after her"

"You're a Potions Master! How can you not have some antidote on you?!"

"Lucius focus. You should be the one to raise Daysha after I'm gone"

"No- no don't say that. You're not going a-anywhere Severus. My Sev cannot die today, you cannot die before me. I can't bear it"

"Luc... listen-" his sentence was cut short when he coughed up blood. He yanked on Malfoy's clothes once more, this time more desperately. "She's yours," he spat out at last. And then he began to cry. The thought of his daughter growing up like him burned his veins even worse than the venom.

Time stopped around Lucius as his heart started to beat faster, he didn't think it was possible a minute ago. "What?" he exhaled. "But you said-"

"I know what I said" sobbed Severus. "I didn't want your name, your marriage, to be tainted" he released Lucius's clothes and placed his hand on his chin. "But she's yours, I swear. She even has-" his sentence cut abruptly as a searing pain went through his whole body. "She even has your hair" he managed to gasp out before his body arched with another wave of pain. "Her hair was black when you saw her but it was a glamour, she's yours. I've never been with anyone but you in my whole life"

Lucius slowly caressed his temple with feather-like kisses "We could've raise her together" he whined, shaking his head as if he wants to wake up from a horrible nightmare. "Please don't leave me alone"

"It's okay" Severus whispered, that was all he could do.

"It's all my fault" Lucius admitted.

"Stop"

"I introduced you to Dark, it's because of me, you took the Mark because of me" he muttered against his darling's ear. "I should be the one who's dying"

"Look into my eyes" Severus said with a stern voice. When Lucius faced him, he said again "It's okay"

"What am I going to say to her when she asks about you? Salazar, she's only two"

"Just say her mama loves her" He had to put his hand over his mouth to keep his sobs from becoming too loud. "I need you to stay strong and be a good father to our daughter, okay? She's in Spinner's End with my mother. Promise me you won't leave Daysha with her." Severus was barely audible anymore; he didn't know how much time he had left, but it wasn't difficult to guess that it wasn't much.

"I won't" Lucius said. He'd never leave his own blood with a woman who had scarred Severus. But he didn't know how to be strong, he was weak; the love of his life was dying in his arms, and all he could do was nothing; he was weak.

"Promise me!"

The begging tone in Severus' voice woke him up from his train of thoughts. He nodded quickly. "Of course I won't leave her, dearest. She is my own flesh and blood, a part of us. I promise"

Severus' breathing began to slow as he reached for Lucius one last time. Malfoy intertwined their fingers and pressed his forehead against his dearest's. "I love you" he said as he breath out. He waited for a response but when none came he closed his eyes tightly as tears streamed down his cheeks. He couldn't tear his face away from Severus' for a while. He was too afraid to look at his lover's lifeless figure.

"I know you love me too"

He eventually drew back a little, pressed his lips against his beloved's forehead, and said "It's okay"

#Daysha was originally created by me for one of my old stories and the meaning of it is 'A gift from god' #It indicates that even though Severus' pregnancy was unexpected it was still welcomed by him because he saw Lucius' kid as a gift from god #They met up to find comfort in each other on the night of Voldemort's return and that's when he became pregnant #Severus told him that she was from a one night stand with a muggle #I'm just clarifying things so you get a clearer image #this was supposed to be really short but it got out of my hands #my man Lucius went through five stages of grief under five minutes #it's been so long since I last wrote something #snucius #lucius malfoy #severus snape #harry potter #harry potter ships #lucius and severus #severus and lucius #lucius x severus #severus x lucius #lucius and snape #snape and lucius #lucius x snape #snape x lucius #mpreg #snucius fanfiction #incorrect hp scene #professor snape #pro severus snape #pro snape #snape fandom #snape community #snape

[a11eya]

a11eya at tumblr dot com back again with the soulmate aus lmaooooo. this au + midoriya izuku? pain

you know that soulmate au where you share injuries? where when you get a paper cut, they do too; where when they gets a bruise, you do too? 

one thing that’s become evident is that your soulmate is constantly getting hurt. 

as a child, you endure the normal injuries sustained while growing up. you give your soulmate scraped knees, they give you stubbed toes, you give them bee stings. you give as good as you get. 

but the real aches and pains start when you’re around thirteen or fourteen, and they all come from your soulmate. 

it begins with muscle aches, that soreness familiar to you after playing your favorite sport or physically exerting yourself. but multiply that by three; your soulmate’s soreness is intense. you figure they must be an athlete or something. they’re working really hard, and you admire that.

then come the extensive bruises, the broken bones. 

you remember the feeling of your finger breaking for the first time—and again, and again. 

in a daze of pain, you wonder: is your soulmate being bullied? assaulted? why is this happening? 

there are times when your hands hurt so, so much, the joints aching, the fingers slow to curl. 

and then the scars appear. on your hands, on your arms, on the rest of your body. 

you’re so worried for your soulmate. 

“maybe your soulmate is a hero,” your friend says one day while you’re sweating in a long-sleeved shirt—your most recent attempt at hiding the scars. they worry your parents, your teachers, your friends, so you do your best to keep your soulmate’s hurts to yourself.

wherever you are, i hope you’re okay. i hope you’re safe. you imagine your thoughts being sent out, like a whisper on the wind, a message in a bottle. wishes you hope come true. 

“maybe,” you tell her.

#and then we meet him #and we're MAD #that's all i got so far lmao #i'm gonna have to ask ya'll if you wanna see this written or my other izu soulmate au #bc two is excessive right??? #midoriya izuku x reader #midoriya izuku x you #jess scribbles #for a hot min i couldn't remember that last tag it's been so long since i wrote something here waaaaah #bnha

[unexpectedbrickattack]

Hi. New ✨Pinned Post✨

• MINORS. DO NOT MESSAGE ME. NO DMS. NO INBOX MESSAGES. NO. I am not checking my activity and Every note to see if minors are interacting w my stuff but i WILL check if u directly try to contact me. I WILL block you. Please dont do that to me 😭 Likes/Reblogs are fine, just dont talk to me Directly please.

• This blog will have ns//fw stuff! Suggestive and Explicit! Please block [spicy hot], [suggestive] and [saucy] to avoid seeing these posts! Make sure to remove the brackets! (Gonna be changing [spicy hot] to [saucy] very soon so I am adding that in there as well)

• No, I do not want you to dub any of my art. Oh my god. Oh my god ! I cannot stop you but I do not want anything ive done dubbed and placed anywhere on the internet. Do not show me if u do this. Do not show me if u saw it on youtube or tiktok or whatever! I am existing with Blinders on and i would prefer to keep it that way!

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OKAY thats it for real bye

#me reviewing this: #man this shit is still too long 😭 #i had something else i wanted to add but i cant remember #eventually ill get to a point where i just list shit down and wont explain myself #actual Proper bulletpoints #anyway im doing this bc im going to be posting shit here and i wanna warn the like #[REDACTED] new followers ive gotten since my last pinned post #and no one reads that shit willingly so im putting it on ya dash #OH I REMEMBER. ITS THE SHIP STUFF #im going to add that hold on #actually. no… #i feel like the fandom has been alive long enough that people expect that shi #*shit… #so funny. i went to correct it and i wrote *this… #like my hands are working too fast for my brain #i guess i could add that i dont bother w ship hate; something i did not think i would experience in the funney pizza game #so like u will just see any and all ships here. ill tag it for my own convenience #but if ur like ‘dni if u ship[perfectly fine and funny ship]’ then maybe u dont want to follow me LMAO #okay thats it bye mwah

[brutal-nemesis]

E&T: A Truly Slothful Start

*points at Erebus* Bro is NOT built for this lmao (btw I drew the sloth demon a v long time ago enjoy)

Suggested battle music: Grandma (Destruction) from NieR: Automata (spotify | youtube)

←Previous - Masterlist

Ingredients: combat whump we fight monster, amputation hehe (not gory tho!), slight drowning, undescribed eye whump

PART III: Untitled World

The things that hit him first were the suffocating darkness and the awful chill in the air.

Erebus knew he didn’t belong here. All around him, strange rock formations jutted out every which way, no sign of life among them. There didn’t seem to be any source of light, and yet everything was clearly visible, casting hardly any shadow. The silence was nearly absolute, pressing in on his ears. The only thing he could hear was the freakishly loud sound of his own heartbeat, amplified by the collar around his neck.

Wait, the collar-he reached up for it, fingers closing around the awful strip of leather that he’d been forced to wear since the start of his captivity. He had a sword, he had claws, and N...no one would make him wear another one if he broke it. So he should take it off, right? He should destroy it. He’d always hated it, the way it meant he was owned, how it let-let people put leashes on him and lead him around like a dog. She...she’d said it herself, that he had to wear it so he wouldn’t forget that he belonged to her, but now they were...not together. So it shouldn’t matter. 

But he couldn’t stop thinking about when she’d taken it off for the procedure with the envy demon, about how utterly, embarrassingly exposed he’d felt without that stupid collar. Maybe the feeling would pass, and he would just have to get used to being without it. He hadn’t worn one for the vast majority of his life, so it should be easy to adjust back, right? Besides, it was more than just a collar, it was a way for her to know if someone other than her was touching him, and that was violating, it was...it was a way for her to know he was alive. Assuming it worked, assuming whatever signal it was could be sent to another world.

Erebus lowered his hands, still chained together, as he blinked away tears. He-he was really here, in this other world with only a slim chance of ever going back. He’d take every tie to his old life he could get, no matter how painful. And if the spell on the collar worked, then…he owed it to her to let her know he was still alive. He could wear the collar for a little while longer. The muzzle, on the other hand...he didn’t mind tearing that off and throwing it away in the slightest.

Shakily, he stood, grabbing the sheathed sword in front of him. Being expected to fight was…strange. But, looking at himself now, he was practically designed for this, almost every modification giving him some sort of advantage. It made his blood run cold to think about how this had been the plan from the start, how obvious it seemed now. He wanted to lay down and sob and process what had happened, but everything was so different and strange that he didn’t feel safe enough to let his guard down like that. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he buckled the sword belt around his waist and began looking around.

Behind where he’d appeared, there was a bag lying on the ground. Inside was a cloak with holes for his wings, a knife, and a bedroll. Well, better than nothing, but he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do about food and water or lighting a fire. Maybe that demon tongue would be coming in handy, after all. He put on the cloak, grateful to have something to help him keep warm in this place, along with the shoes he still had on from their trip to the desert.

Nothing else here, he began carefully making his way along one of the stone cliffs, leaning on it since there had never been a chance to fully heal the gash in his leg. Progress was slow, and maybe it would have been a good time to think things through, but he couldn’t stop tears from forming in his eyes at the mere thought of what had happened, so instead he just focused on the pain in his leg, flaring up brighter with every step.

Time felt impossible to grasp, as if this place was outside of it entirely, but at some point Erebus reached the end of the maze of stone. He was greeted with what looked like a vast ocean, but the water was unnaturally calm, not a single ripple on the glass-like surface. Had there been stars above, it would have been beautiful, but under the canopy of uniform blackness, it just looked like a cold, empty void. 

Erebus hesitated to step out in the open, no walls to protect him, but the silence was so absolute that he couldn’t imagine there was another living thing anywhere near him. His leg didn’t hurt quite as much anymore despite how much he’d been walking, so he was able to hobble to the water’s edge and investigate, setting the pack down to make moving around a little easier. The sword, however, still hung at his side, just in case. 

The water was clear, and as far as he could tell, there was no sign of life in it whatsoever. It was jarringly different from the seaside at home, where you could hardly take a step without spotting a shellfish or aquatic plant. Here, it was just pebbles, no broken shells or bits of dead coral among them. He crouched and dipped a finger in, finding the water both cold and salty. The ripples created by his finger traveled far, seeming to get bigger as they traveled along. Suddenly, even bigger ripples rushed to meet them from farther out, and Erebus’s stomach knotted in terror as he bolted upright, pulling out the sword, having to hold it with both hands since they were still chained.

He strained his eyes in the darkness, looking for whatever had caused the disturbance. Was that...there was something  in the water out there, he was sure of it. He took a few steps back, sword still held in front of him, watching the strange shape grow larger and larger as it approached. The moment the tip of its nose emerged, the surface of the water erupted, spraying Erebus with cold mist and shooting tendrils out into the open air that coalesced into a large sort of web. Arches of water now crisscrossed all throughout the space, severely limiting how much he could fly around, especially since he never had a chance to practice it much. In the middle of the watery network was a large bubble, and when he saw what was inside it, Erebus’s jaw dropped.

The creature was enormous, big enough to swallow him whole in one bite. Its pale gray body was long, with two pairs of flippers that were almost as big as Erebus and a webbed, spiny ridge going down its back. A cruel, curved hook jutted out from the end of its tail, almost as sharp-looking as its conical teeth. As Erebus looked at it in horror, it turned its gaze to him, its blank white eyes staring into his own identical pair. So this…this must be a sloth demon. He was supposed to fight that? 

He could leave, just run and hide, this thing couldn’t follow him through those rocky canyons, he could stop and take a moment to think, but this was an enemy right in front of him, and no matter how terrifying, it had revealed itself, no more surprises. Erebus tightened his grip. If he could-could beat this thing then he could really rest. It would be safe here. He would be that much closer to going h…somewhere that wasn’t here. He could do this. He had to.

Despite how much he was shaking, Erebus took flight and approached, finding it difficult to do so while he was holding the sword, but not enough for him to fall out of the air. The demon just watched as he flew past the jets of water, and Erebus hated those blank white eyes boring into him, which just made him loathe his own all that much more. How…how exactly was he supposed to attack it? It was so huge and he couldn’t see any kind of obvious weakness, not to mention that it was surrounded by a sphere of water. While he knew his eyes worked underwater, he could only imagine his wings would be a hindrance, not to mention the heavy sword. 

Maybe…maybe he should just retreat for now. Come up with a plan and come back. This was just…it was too much. Reassuring himself that the demon couldn’t follow him, he cautiously turned around and started to weave his way through the tendrils of-there was a sharp jerk on his wing, and suddenly Erebus was being dragged through the air, crashing into pillars of water as he went, barely registering the splash of his sword hitting the sea below as he scrambled to get his wing free of-of-it was that hook it was pierced through the top of Erebus’s wing he couldn’t get it out his fingers were slippery and freezing and useless he had to do something kick his legs flap his wings anything-

Just as those awful teeth came into view, Erebus managed to swing himself back, but the chain on his wrists was caught, wrapped around a tooth, his fall jerked to a halt, he was hanging by his wrists, the hook was gone but his wing wouldn’t work, he had to do something, that eye was so big and so close, watching him struggle, the beast’s throat humming with an ancient growl, hungry, he couldn’t just let this happen, he grabbed the tooth with his left hand and the chain with his right, he could do this, pull himself up enough to-

The great jaws snapped shut, and Erebus tumbled into the water below. 

Cold shocked his system, despite the fact that his left arm felt like it was on fire. 

He couldn’t stay down here. He had to get to the surface.

But, down there, a faint glint. Metal. His sword. His only hope of winning.

He swam towards it, progress slow and painful and-

His left hand was gone. 

There wasn’t time to mourn it. 

His remaining hand wrapped around the hilt of the sword. It was heavy, too heavy for him to swim up with. 

He was running out of air. He had to try. This couldn’t be the end. Not here. Not so soon after-

The hook pierced through his wing again, and it was all he could do to hold onto his sword this time around.

The sloth demon pulled him up and out of the water with its tail, tossing him high into the air as it opened its great jaws to swallow him whole. His wings torn and useless, all Erebus could do was flap them desperately and hope it would be enough, hope he could at least-his foot landed on one of those teeth, holding him for just a moment before he slipped, but it was enough to aim his sword hold it steady launch himself down drive that point right down into the demon’s eye paint that awful soulless white with red hear the roar of agony so loud he could feel it in his bones and now the water was collapsing falling back down the great corpse falling with it he had to get away wrench the sword out jump back splash into the water struggle to the surface to the shore drag himself out of the water collapse on the shore and breathe.

He-he’d won, but just barely, and the losses were-Erebus bit back tears, looking away from the ragged stump at the end of his left arm. There was no way he could survive six more fights like that.

This horrible, hostile place was going to destroy him, and there would be nothing left of him to go back home.

Tags: @dramaticcollapse @thehopelessopus @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @galaxywhump @as-a-matter-of-whump @mnmlover2002 @tears-and-lilies @yet-another-heathen @rippedjeansandfadeddreams @starnight-whump @unicornscotty @thebewilderer @kixngiggles @itallstartedwithharry @inky-whump @redstainedsocks @lonesome--hunter @his-unspoken-words @susiequaz12 @its-mysweetlittlesecret-blog @whumpasaurus101 @patheticlittleguy @jadeocean46910 @whumpinggrounds @pumpkin-spice-whump @suspicious-whumping-egg @befuddled-calico-whump @whump-in-the-closet​ @pumpkinsncoffee​ @aryreads​

#i wrote something #erebus & terror #erebus #somiaken #combat whump #amputation #suggested music is just there for you to listen to during the fight sequence if you wish!! it has been selected as Fitting #yeah he was uh. he was sizzling in the frying pan like bacon for the last while but i have since dumped him into my giant campfire #delightful isn't it #IT'S THE MOMENT WE'VE ALL BEEN WAITING FOR: MAN DECIDES TO KEEP HIS COLLAR ON LMAOOOO #trauma and attachment to neteri go crazy #he will cry so much later dont worry but right now he is running on adrenaline and fear. terror if you will #he needs a cozy little safe place to do the sobbing #so let's go beat up the giant aquatic dinosaur demon im sure that will end well-oh no #his ass lucked out i sure hope that's not a trend 🤪 almost like he wasn't ready for this or something #hopefully the funky water bullshit was described well enough just a bunch of random arches of water basically #so it's more Water but the fight isn't totally underwater hooray #ah finally the handcuff chain wrapped around tooth incident i have been waiting for so long <3333 #listen i cant say anything about sloth without saying TRULY SLOTHFUL rezero activity confirmed

[empoleon]

stranger things have happened

• rated m, one shot, 3088 words

• also available to read here

Wolfwood is humming something against the fabric of Vash’s shirt—his shirt, because Vash has taken to wearing his articles of clothing as of late—when Vash speaks up.

“They like that,” he says softly, tilting his head back with a smile.

Wolfwood pauses, lips ghosting a kiss near the spot where he was singing. “’S just something I heard a long time ago.”

From the orphanage, but it goes unspoken. Vash is fairly certain it’s in Wolfwood’s mother tongue as well, but he doesn’t comment on it—bringing that up now would probably embarrass him enough to stop and Vash certainly doesn’t want that.

They're in bed together at some rundown inn—traveling too much with Vash in his current state puts a bit of a strain on both of them, so it’s easier if they make frequent stops. They just need to be careful. They have to be careful.

Wolfwood would never forgive himself if something happened to—

It’s almost unnerving to feel the faintest movement touch the skin of his cheek, stopping his train of thought immediately. It’s such a brief feeling and he almost questions if it actually happened, but Vash beats him to it.

“Nick, did you—?”

“Yeah,” Wolfwood glances up at him, unable to hide the awe in his voice. “He moved.”

 .

 150 years. A century and a half, and Vash did not know about this. 

To be fair, there is a lot about himself that he isn’t aware of, either purposely brushing it off as a one-off occurrence or simply refusing to acknowledge it. 

Plant anatomy wasn’t something he was keen to learn about. He understood his basic, primal needs and that was that. 

Humans, on the other hand…

Cross-species breeding simply never came to mind. And even if it did, Vash was far too busy enjoying the feeling of Wolfwood on top of him, holding him close, whispering things he longed to hear—knowing that each spoken word was true—he loves you, all of you, every single piece of your being, every scar and blemish branded from God himself.

(He loves you.)

 .

 “Oi, blondie—you want to tell me why you dragged me out here again?”

The dim lighting in the old saloon feels suitable at this moment, one of the lights flickering idly. It’s noisy, overcrowded and Vash almost reconsiders his priorities. 

“How ’bout a drink first?”

It’s not something Wolfwood refuses, but he eyes the glass of water that is placed on their shared table. It’s murky in color, with a few specks of dirt swirling around, but it’s better than what they have seen in the previous towns. 

Wolfwood grabs his own glass, filled with a smooth amber tinge. “So,” he takes a swig and licks his lips. “What’s wrong?”

Vash wants to laugh. Leave it to Wolfwood to get straight to the point. 

“Nothing! Well, mostly nothing,“ Vash gives him a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “You know how it is.”

Except Wolfwood doesn’t know, with the way Vash keeps skirting around the topic at hand. 

The alcohol in his system is beginning to warm him up, and if he didn’t know any better, he’d think Vash is about to say something unimaginable. It worries him.

There’s a ruckus outside the saloon that quickly enters through the double swing doors, men shouting unintelligible things—words like ‘bounty’ and ‘where is he?’ are all that Wolfwood needs to hear before he downs the rest of his drink and roughly grabs Vash by the arm. 

“Hey, wait—I didn’t get to finish my drink!” Vash whines dramatically as he stumbles to his feet. One of the men arguing with another patron glances over towards them and Wolfwood curses.

“Damn it! Will you shut it?” He swivels around and pulls Vash into a corner of the saloon, trying to obscure the view of the humanoid typhoon from any onlookers. Miraculously, it works.

The commotion dies down after the barkeep threatens to drain the tap and close up for the evening. Those who initially caused the uproar either slip back out into the night or decide it’s time for a drink.

Vash really wishes he could have one right now, too. The water on the table may not taste great, but his throat has never felt so dry.

His arms find their way around Wolfwood’s waist, and he holds him there for a moment, in the corner of that saloon. The lights flicker again.

“I need to talk to you.”

 .

 “Guess he likes my voice,” Wolfwood smooths a hand against the swell of Vash’s belly. 

“He?” Vash can’t hide the curiosity in his voice at the word, raising an eyebrow. “What makes you so sure?” 

“Spikey, there is absolutely no way in hell you’re giving me a daughter,” Wolfwood states it so seriously that Vash starts to laugh. “I mean it. My heart won’t be able to take it.” 

 .

 When he finally manages to tell Wolfwood what has been ailing him, he isn’t entirely sure what to expect, reaction wise.

Yelling or swearing? An average response, perhaps the best possible outcome, especially when it comes to the man Vash has known for so many years now. Calling him names falls under this category as well.

What he didn’t expect was the silence, or Wolfwood’s cigarette falling out of his mouth a second later. 

“You’re—”

Vash nods, unable to say anything else. It’s hard to meet those dark eyes that are glued to his body.

“And it’s…” Wolfwood trails off, motioning to himself.

Another nod. 

There’s a long pause before everything goes back to normal—whatever that actually is, Vash isn’t certain, but it feels like he can breathe again once Wolfwood regains his senses and finally says more than a few words.

“I thought you said we didn’t need to use condoms!” Wolfwood exclaims. “I asked you three times!”

Three separate times, in fact. Vash groans and runs a hand through his hair. “I mean, we don’t need to—we’ve never had—I didn’t think this was possible,” he settles on saying, because it’s true. 

This was purely impossible, and yet somehow, after 150 years, his body finally decided it was time. 

“With how often we fuck, I’m surprised this didn’t happen sooner,” Wolfwood mutters. 

He’s not wrong, as embarrassing as it is to think about it.

“So…” Vash wrings his hands together, eyes flickering between Wolfwood and the cigarette that has long since been forgotten on the ground. He moves his boot to step on it, putting it out. 

“So,” Wolfwood parrots, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “Are you okay? With all of this, I mean.”

“Me?” Vash blinks, confused. “I guess so, I was mostly worried about—”

He doesn’t get to finish his sentence before Wolfwood reaches over and pulls Vash into an embrace.

“Save it, blondie,” he says quietly. “You and I both know I’m fine with kids.” Wolfwood is also not wrong about that. 

“That’s not what I asked you.”

Are you okay with this? Is this what you want?

“I—yeah,” Vash lets out a shaky breath. “I really am.” He wraps his arms around Wolfwood’s neck and buries his face into his shoulder. “Thank you, Nick.”

For everything.

 .

 A daughter… she would look just like you, Nick, Vash thinks to himself while Wolfwood continues to argue with him—with their child. And she would act like you, too.

“I don’t need two needle-noggins in my life,” he says sternly, but there’s a hint of amusement in his voice. “So please inherit some damn common sense—”

“I have plenty of common sense,” Vash interrupts him. “For example—”

Wolfwood scoots his hand up underneath Vash’s t-shirt and squeezes the warm skin of Vash’s hip with a rough hand, eliciting a yelp out of him.

“Don’t say another word,” he grumbles, “unless you want me to knock more of that so-called sense into you.”

Vash’s smile is everything devious in nature. “I would love to see you try.”

 .

 The first time Wolfwood sees just how different Vash is as far as humans go, he’s equal parts aroused and surprised.

“You really weren’t kidding,” he says while trailing a finger across the inner part of Vash’s upper thigh, tracing a scar that mars the skin there. It stops just short of what he could only describe as thin, petal-like folds, tightly wound and—quivering? “This is pretty freaky, spikey.”

“Don’t tease me,” Vash all but huffs as his body is out on display for him. One too many drinks later and they find themselves in yet another unfamiliar, yet all too recognizable inn bedroom. 

It was easy for both of them to make it to this point—they always, always do, but this time it is different. It’s edging closer to something that neither one of them can turn away from.

Wolfwood grins at him. “Oh, I’m just getting started.”

 “Can you—y-yes, right there,” Vash’s calves tighten around Wolfwood’s shoulders instinctively, hands gripping the bed sheets beneath him. 

“Easy, Vash,” Wolfwood is a little breathless when he pulls back, a hand trailing along the metal of his prosthetic. “Digging into my neck a bit there.”

Vash almost immediately tries to sit up, looking extremely concerned. “Shit, I’m so sorry—”

Wolfwood carefully presses a hand to Vash’s lower abdomen, stopping him. “It’s fine, sweetheart,” he licks his lips. “Lie back down.”

His legs loosen a bit, this time more mindful of Wolfwood’s fleshy shoulders. Vash had insisted on leaving his prosthetics on, enjoying being able to anchor himself against his lover. 

Wolfwood continues where he left off, nose brushing the inner, wetter petals that are waiting for him, taking in Vash’s scent with a soft inhale. 

He flicks his tongue across them, watching as they unfurl and invite him into something far greater. 

“Nick—” Vash arches his back with a groan. “More, I—”

“More what?” Wolfwood murmurs it against the opening of his slit, lips finding their way around the swell of a small bud that is nestled between it. “Full sentences.”

“More, please,” Vash’s voice trembles, “Don’t fucking stop.”

“Language, sweetheart,” Wolfwood presses a kiss to the bud, nips at it gently with his teeth and proceeds to curl his tongue around it. 

He sucks long and slow, far too slow for Vash’s liking, evident in the way he hears another groan come from him. 

Vash’s hand reaches for Wolfwood’s hair, tugging as he rocks his hips closer.

“Oh, Nick,” he gasps this time and Wolfwood is certain that he’s close, noticing how the room begins to glow a touch brighter. 

Seeing those intricate patterns spark to life across various parts of Vash’s body ignites something truly deep within Wolfwood, far deeper than any spoken word of some higher being he could imagine.

They dance across scarred legs, skipping over pieces of well worn beryl-infused metal, trailing up Vash’s torso, his neck—

Vash shudders when he comes, fingers flexing into Wolfwood’s hair, purposefully forcing the man to stay put between his legs.

Not that Wolfwood would have ever minded.

He laps up everything that Vash gives to him and tries to coax out even more with his mouth, relishing the sweet taste that hits his tongue. 

“Still with me, darlin’?” Wolfwood breaks away from him with a quiet gasp. He brings a hand up to his lips and wipes at it, grinning. 

“Uh-huh,” is the only coherent response he gets, Vash’s body going limp with bliss. “’S good, Nick, you’re so good.”

“Preaching to the choir, I see,” Wolfwood runs a hand up Vash’s thigh, tracing along the intricate plant markings and noting how they shimmer brighter with each touch. “Let’s see what else that pretty mouth of yours can do.”

 .

 “How did the appointment go?” Wolfwood eventually asks, moving up to settle beside Vash. “Did Brad ask about—”

“The feathers,” Vash nods and sighs quite dramatically. “It was going so well, too, but then I sneezed and everything just,” he lifted up both his hands and spread his fingers, metal and flesh flexing wide, “Exploded?”

“Exploded?” Wolfwood can’t help but laugh. “Our child is already a menace, I can't believe it.”

One morning Vash had awoken to small, downy feathers attempting to sprout from his shoulders and forearm—the last time that happened, any time that happened, actually, was when they—

Well. Vash definitely didn’t relay that information to Brad, but he didn’t try to hide any of his bodily changes when he went for his most recent checkup. 

Luida suspected it had something to do with the pregnancy—that energy, a life, now being constantly generated from within him. He was bound to have some… interesting side effects.

“I couldn’t believe it,” Vash says after a moment. “You should’ve seen the look on Brad's face when it happened though, or the room,” he pauses and glances at Wolfwood with a smile. “Completely covered in feathers.”

Wolfwood snakes an arm across Vash’s chest, moving to rest his head on his shoulder. “Bet he loved that,” he closes his eyes. “Glad everything went smoothly, blondie. I should be able to come next time.”

Vash turns his head and presses a kiss to Wolfwood’s hair. “Luida would like that. She’s been dying to see you again, you know.”

“More like dying to have someone help out around the ship,” Wolfwood sighs, but there’s no malice in his tone. “Say, next time we visit…” he lowers his hand down Vash’s chest, stopping pointedly at his stomach. “They’ll be able to tell us what the little sprout is, yeah?”

Vash’s small intake of breath doesn’t go by unnoticed and it causes Wolfwood to sit up, getting a better look at him. “What’s wrong?”

“Well—” Vash starts to say, but closes his mouth promptly. 

“Wait,” Wolfwood reaches over to the side of the bed and suddenly the room is illuminated by the warm glow from the lamp. “Vash, don’t tell me you—” he glances back over at him and studies his face for a moment in silence. Vash desperately wishes Wolfwood wasn’t so damn good at reading him for once. 

“You already know, don’t you?” 

Vash groans and brings a hand up to his face. “It was an accident, Luida brought it up before I could stop her. I’m so sorry, Nick.” 

Wolfwood exhales and slumps back against the pillows. “Unbelievable.”

Vash attempts to roll over to face him, being on his back for so long starting to become a bit uncomfortable. “Nick?”

Silence. 

“Nicholas,” Vash pouts—he definitely has no right to do so, but he can’t help it. “I can just tell you, would that make it better?”

“No,” Wolfwood sighs. “I still want it to be a surprise.”

“I can act surprised when she tells us!” Vash says with enthusiasm. Wolfwood gives him a withering look. “No? Okay, okay,” he frowns, “it was worth a shot, though.”

“You are a complete needle-noggin idiot, you know that?” Wolfwood reaches over to flick Vash’s head. “And… it’s all right, don’t worry about it.”

“Are you sure?” 

“Yes,” Wolfwood stresses the fact with a poke to Vash’s cheek. “I can wait a few more weeks. You better not bring it up on accident, though, or else—”

“I won’t! I promise, scout’s honor!”

 .

 Wolfwood is a lazy kisser—Vash used to tease him for it, but it wasn’t as though he was much better—or had any practice.

And they really did have the time now for these sorts of things.

He sighs as Wolfwood peppers a trail of kisses up his chest, taking his time with each scar and meld of flesh and metal his lips come past. 

“Nicholas,” Vash’s voice is light, full of warmth. “I thought you said— oh!”

Wolfwood captured his mouth with ease, stopping whatever teasing comment that was about to be said. 

His lips are chapped, but still somehow soft, warm—Vash has half a mind to point that out, but Wolfwood won’t allow it with the way his mouth is working. 

Vash gives in and sighs into the kiss, tugs him closer, prosthetic fingers raking through Wolfwood’s hair. It’s enough of an incentive to keep going, by any means. 

Even if there is shouting outside the inn bedroom’s window, or the ringing of a few gunshots sounding off in the lingering desert air. 

Vash breaks the kiss to turn his head, ignoring how Wolfwood sets his aim for his throat.

“Should we go—mmh,” Vash tries to suppress a moan, unsuccessfully, “check that out?” 

Wolfwood pauses, lips lingering near Vash’s collarbone. “During the middle of this?” 

He has a point. 

And to further express said point, Wolfwood slowly rocks his hips along Vash’s thighs.

“You’re right,” and Vash can’t believe he’s saying it with a smile on his face, one that Wolfwood can’t see from this angle, but knows that the man can feel. 

The whole room is lighting up, after all.

“It can wait,” Vash decides, and Wolfwood takes him.

 .

 One minute of silence passes between them, and then two. 

“Okay, I can’t do this,” Wolfwood rolls over to face Vash. “’M not going to be able to sleep unless I know.”

Vash is unable to restrain himself from laughing. “Really? Surely there’s something in your good book about rewarding patience.”

“Always be humble and gentle; be patient, bearing with one another in love,” Wolfwood recalls the passage in a low voice. “I think I’ve been pretty gentle lately, all things considered.”

“Oh, absolutely,” Vash agrees, amused. “Not so humble, though. Might need some brushing up on that.”

Wolfwood slides a bit closer to Vash. “Good thing we’ll have some down time for the next couple of months then—I could use some practice.”

“I happen to know an excellent teacher,” Vash says. He feels Wolfwood snake an arm across underneath the blankets, reaching for his shoulder to pull Vash in an embrace. 

“If you say Brad, I swear to fucking God—”

Vash’s huff of laughter is the only response Wolfwood gets before a pale hand beckons him closer. 

Even in the now-quiet of the room, Vash’s whisper to his ear is perhaps the softest thing Wolfwood has heard in a very long time. 

He can’t help his too sudden reply, his own voice on the verge of cracking. “Really?”

Vash nods. “Yes, really.”

And if Wolfwood hid his face in the crook of Vash’s neck, eyes filled with a dampness that threatened to spill over and unable to say anything else except a murmured ‘thank you’—

It was enough. 

#trigun #trigun stampede #vash the stampede #nicholas d wolfwood #vashwood #fanfic #fic #texte #my writing #hewwo friends long time no motherfuckin see am i right LOL #man. wow. it has really been a hot minute since i've last wrote something #trigun kinda took over my brain (not complaining tho) #i don't really have many pals who are into the series atm so i'm just yodeling into a void by myself tbh #anyway i posted this to ao3 the other day and figured i should cross post it here too #title is unabashedly from the foo fighters and yes it's in my wv playlist #nobody asked but i'm saying that much #these 2 guys r so fucking!!!!!!! TRAGIC #i just want them to have a family. god bless the plantussy #ok i am going now perhaps i will return? with more fics? we shall see #love & peace 2 u all <3

[strawwritesfic]

YOOOOOOOO I finally finished a one shot that's brand new and actually was on my to-do list!

Not sure when it'll be posted because it's still just in handwritten form so I gotta type it up, but I'm looking forward to posting something people might actually care about!

#it's a spock one shot #sadly for everyone else the next thing on my list is still khr #but hey it's a new thing instead of something i wrote in my early 20s #not fic #i've been working on scanning 350 exhibits the last three days so it gave me some time to work #they're all double sided so I have to scan them in twice too #i'm out of practice so it's probably not the best thing ever but it's been so long since I finished anything new i'm gonna take it #especially since i already cannibalized the first draft because it was meandering so much so we are several drafts in at this point

[haemosexuality]

one thing that always made me doubt my autism self diagnosis is special interests. my life has always been dictated by my very strong hyperfixations (since i was a baby!), but those are different from SI and i felt like nothing that i had matched the description of special interests. but i just fucking realized. that my special interest is English

#im still a bit confused on what a special interest is exactly #but from my understanding its ''kind of like a hyperfixation but way more long term and not as obsessive'' #like hyperfixations are something that youre extremely obsessed and focused on for a period of time (from my experience ranging from a few #weeks to a couple of years) and during that period your entire life revolves around the thing youre hyperfixated on #its all you can think about all you can talk about all you can do it literally like possesses you and takes you over. you forget to eat and #drink and sleep and go to the bathroom because You Cant Stop Doing The Thing #eventually tho they fizzle out and tou move on #special interests however Dont fizzle out. theyre forever or at least for a really really long time. and theyre something you love and enjoy #learning all about but its not an overwhelming obsession like a hyperfixation is #my longest ever hyperfixations lasted from a year to almost two years #ive been consistently interested/in love/extremely excited about learning and speaking english since i was at least Six. couldve been #even younger i dont remember #ive Always enjoyed and seeked out learning english and ive always been advanced compared to other ppl my age because of how much #i like it #its shaped my whole life i mean i just wrote this whole ass thing in english #i love speaking in english and reading in english etc etc. always have. this is so eye opening for me #cool!!!!!

[that-was-anticlimactic]

universe of constant spinning, every end a new beginning

“So, do you have an umbrella? That was like, your thing, right? At Claw?”

Ah—not again! He can’t keep zoning out while talking to people—especially his boss.

But… why was Reigen still here? It was late and he always got to work early. It wasn’t his job to stay and coddle his employees. “I—uh—no,” he stuttered, fingers twisting anxiously. “Mine was, uh, "is” broken, sir.”

‘Broken’ was a mild way to put it. More like it got destroyed.

[or, reigen gives serizawa an umbrella]

☔️2,651 words | serirei☔️

#corey writes:) #HOLY TRASH #no guys last year i challenged myself to write and post one fic a month so that i made sure i was still taking time to do what i enjoy #and not lose myself to school work right? aND I DID IT!!! so i challenged myself AGAIN this year and none of the stuff i've been working on #is fully done and i had time so i started this last night and worked on this on my down time during student teaching and when i got home! #this prolly isn't Great but it's short and something i've been thinking about since the minute i finished s2 sooooooo #and the brainrot has been SO real and actually tbh i'm pretty surprised that the fic i wrote isn't r.itsu centric lol but this idea would #NOT leave my head and i knew it wouldn't get super long like all of my r.itsu and kiddo ideas ijuhbgfvbhyuio #mp100 #mob psycho 100 #serirei #serizawa katsuya #reigen arataka #mp100 fanfic #serirei fanfic #guys it's about the m.lb umbrella scene okay #idk maybe this has been done before but also i. do not care because Feelings and i diD IT even tho its at the last minute lol #oops i need to shower i'm teaching all day tomorrow and my supervisor is coming to observe me ahhhhh send good thoughts pls jiuhygtfghuijoiu #okayyyyy i'll stop now i ramble when i am sleepy or nervous and i am Both i just don't want this fic to be bad but ig i panic a bit before #posting any fic haha gonna go shower now MWAH love y'all <333

[lesbian-in-leather]

I was challenged by @accidentallylita to post the last line of my most recent WIP, so here you go!

Sam’s shout called all of the ghosts upstairs, where red light was spilling out of an open doorway. The doorway to that same room they’d spent all day waiting in, the room where— they all crowed in, watching the portal open up in the floor. “Trevor! Isaac! Thor! Come quick!” Alberta called, not wanting any of them to miss it, but not being able to bare going to find them herself.

Tagging @gray-zelle, @changelinq, @downton-not-downtown-smh and anyone else who wants to do this!

#this reminded me how long it's been since i last wrote anything #but luckily i'm getting back into the vibe now #the lesbian herself #also i have so many tag games i have not responded to #if anyone has tagged me in something i'm not ignoring you i just didn't have the spoons i'm sorry #this is technically spoilery for the fic but also #will i ever finish it? #who knows