#I’ve been seeing the signs since he was little

[aestheticaltcow]

No Phone Policy 6.0

The final part of No Phone Policy: I had a lot of different ending ideas for this, but low-key. The seasonal depression is hitting pretty hard, so we get an okay ending instead of a fire ending. There may be an epilogue, but don't quote me on that.

The Bear Masterlist

Previous Part

“What’s goin’ on, Y/N? You’re scaring me…” Mars begged as she kneeled beside you, brushing your unkempt hair out of your face. After what had happened with Carmy, you’d come to her downtown apartment. You didn’t answer her question. You closed your eyes and tried to take a breath, only for it to get caught in your throat.

Mars sighed and let you be in her guest room. 

Your Dad, on the other hand, had none of this. When Mars had updated him on what was happening, he was mentally preparing to go to prison for the rest of his life. He was going to kill Carmen Berzatto and happily admit to doing it. No one hurt one of his little girls and got away with it. 

He pulled up to you and Carmy’s house early that afternoon. He parked next to Carmy’s car and calmly approached the door. He remembered where the two of you hid your spare key and let himself in. 

“Carmen,” he called as he began walking upstairs, clenching and unclenching his fists as he vaguely remembered the layout of your home. He saw an open door and confidently walked in to see Carmy holding his granddaughter. Her eyes were wide as she furious sucked on a tie-dye pacifier, “Oh hey Marty. Y/N isn’t here..” Carmy trailed off awkwardly, unsure of how much you’d told your dad. 

“That’s Mr. Y/L/N to you, Carmen. Now, give me my granddaughter and start explaining what you did to my buggy,” he said authoritatively. Carmy sighed and handed Wolf off to him.

“Hi, gorgeous girl. You look just like your mommy- why is your mommy not here? Did your daddy do something stupid?” 

Carmy swallowed as he stood before Marty awkwardly, “We’ve been fighting… she has some fuckin’ postpartum thing. I don’t know- I wanted things to go back to the way they were, and I guess I pushed her too far. I didn’t hurt her- at least this time… she was ignoring me, and I grabbed her wrists, but this time, she fell down the stairs and ran off. She isn’t answering my calls, so I don’t know where she is.” 

Marty didn’t believe him for a dam second. “Be so happy I’m holding my granddaughter right now, or I’d beat the crap out of you, Carmen.”

Carmy nodded, knowing it was true, “Look, Mar- Mr. Y/L/N, I love Y/N more than I could ever. I’ve been killin’ myself over missing Wolf’s birth since she came out. I fuckin’ failed as a father and as a husband. I- I don’t deserve your daughter; I never have, and I never will. I just wanna talk to her. If she wants to leave, I’ll sign whatever- I just wanna see my daughter.” Carmy swallowed softly, suppressing the urge to cry.

~

Carmy dug through his closet that morning as Natalie sat on his bed, holding Wolf on her lap. “So, how do you want today to go?” she asked, wiping Wolf’s mouth with a tissue. Carmy huffed and pulled out a blue button-up shirt from the back of his closet. He was unsure if it would fit, but it was the ‘most court-appropriate,’ as Pete would say. 

“I dunno. Guess what were doin’ now?” he chuckled as he threw the shirt to the bottom of the closet still on the hanger. “Fuck it- I haven’t seen my wife in fuckin’ weeks. I’m fuckn’ tired of this shit. I want her to come home. I don’t wanna get divorced and fuckin’ share custody. I want her here, with Wolf, with me- as a fuckin’ family.” he scoffed as he moved to sit next to Natalie. “It took a year and a half to even get pregnant, and then I went and fucked everything up.” 

Natalie put her free hand on his shoulder and smiled sympathetically, “I can’t imagine what you’re goin’ through right now, Carmen, but I think if you stand there and speak from the heart, everything will work out.” 

Carmy shrugged and took Wolf from her lap. She laughed at the feeling of Carmy’s hands wrapping around her waist. He couldn’t help but smile at the sound, “You’re gonna have so much fun with Auntie Sugar… be a good girl, okay?” 

Carmy’s question was met with happy gurgling and a gummy smile. He smiled and kissed her before handing her back to Natalie, “Well, which me luck.” Carmy grinned as he excused himself.

~

When you entered the courtroom, Carmy felt his heart skip a beat. He didn’t realize how long it had been since he’d last seen you. You’d changed your hairstyle from what it had been to a shoulder-length bob; you also dyed it darker. Carmy swallowed when you took your jacket off. He hadn’t seen you in person for weeks, and as much as he tried, he could tear his eyes away from your chest. 

The judge called the hearing to start and began asking questions concerning the nature of the divorce. The words went through Carmy’s head, but he didn’t hear them. He was preoccupied with you. He noticed how you picked at your cuticles and kept crossing and uncrossing your legs and the glossy look in your eyes. You were on the verge of tears throughout the hearing, this was the last thing you’d wanted to do. Having your marriage dissolve. 

“Mrs. Berzatto, do you agree to the laid out terms?” you were brought back to reality when the judge had asked you the question. You looked at your lawyer who urged you to answer, you swallowed and finally looked at Carmy. When your eyes met his, everything flooded back. Meeting him at some bar all those years ago, your first date when he spilled both his and your wine glasses on you. His horribly awkward apologizes led him to info dump of how to get red wine stains out of cotton which led to the deeper conversation of how he’d been collecting denim with his brother since he was a teenager. Memories of laughing together, him attempting to help you with your homework, cooking dinner together at 3 in the morning, and just loving and being loved by him flood your mind. Being with Carmy was like being in a rom-com from the early 2000s.

“Y/N?” your lawyer asked, snapping you out of your thoughts. You took a deep breath and tried to say something, but no words could come out. “I-uh.” You stammered, “I’m sorry.” You managed to get out before quickly walking out of the courtroom, ignoring your lawyer's call after you. 

Carmy watched you hurry out of the room and then turned his attention to the judge. “May I?” he asked, gesturing to the door. “Be my guest, Mr. Berzatto.” The judge exasperated. Carmy nodded and quickly walked out of the courtroom to find you.

You were sitting on a bench just outside the courthouse with your face in your hands. He shoved his hands into his pockets and slowly walked to the bench. As he sat next to you, he heard you sigh. “Hi, Carm,” you said softly. 

“How’s you know it was me?” he asked playfully. He heard you scoff and watched you push your hands through your hair. 

“You always smell like smoke, spearmint, and old spice,” you answered, looking up at him. He chuckled, and you watched him adjust into a more comfortable position.

“You look good. How have you been?” Carmy asked as he turned to face you. You bit the inside of your cheek nervously. “Biting the inside of your cheek… am I making you nervous?” he teased. You rolled your eyes and sighed.

“Really shitty… I’ve been absolutely dreading this day all week.” you laughed as you finally looked up at him. “Who schedules a divorce hearing on a Friday afternoon? Sorta a weekend killer, isn’t it?” 

Carmy laughed at the sentiment, “A bit. For what it counts… I’m sorry for everything I’ve done.”

“Don’t apologize. I’ve been thinking a lot and…” you took another breath as you pushed a loose lock of hair behind your ear. I don’t know what I want to do.” 

Carmy’s eyebrows knit together as he shot you a confused look, “Do for what?” 

“Obviously, I don’t know what I want for dinner.” You sarcastically joked, “I don’t know if I want to get divorced.”

“What brought that on?” Carmy asked shifting in his seat moving closer to you. You copied the movement and thought for a moment before explaining. 

“Wolf, in all honesty. I look at her and I see you.” you laughed, “I don’t know if you know but Natalie sends me at least three pictures of the two of you together everyday.” Carmy chuckled at that, he hadn’t asked Natalie to do that but he appreciated it in the moment. “I don’t want her to have divorced parents and I-” you paused for a second “I don’t want to get divorced.” 

“You don’t want to get divorced?” Carmy repeated, making sure he’d heard you correctly.

“I don’t want to get divorced.” You said again. The comment left Carmy dumbfounded, “I’ve been thinking a lot, and I guess I realized you are sorry for all the shit you did. I said some really mean shit to you, and while it was somewhat deserved, I’ve been reflecting a lot, and- I don’t wanna get divorced. Do you?”

Carmy laughed at the obscurity of the question: “You initiated this baby. When I asked you to marry me, I meant it till death.” You sniffled at Carmy’s words and reached out for him. Carmy grinned and moved to hug you. Having you in his arms felt foreign, not in a bad way, but in an unfamiliar way. 

It wasn’t an overnight ‘get back together’. It took work, and the two of you were ready to do it.

[ayylovley]

another Gun x reader smut with him being patient and sweet when he takes his s/o virginity pls 🥹🥹 btw ur smut is so soooo gooooddd ❤️❤️

oo ok he’ll be a little nicer than when he has a partner who hasn’t had sex and since he doesn’t really know how to be gentle it might take a couple of times but once he pops that cherry and finally gets in without pain he ain’t stopping 😭

⊹ ࣪ ˖𐙚 𝕾𝖜𝖊𝖊𝖙 & 𝕾𝖔𝖚𝖗༘ ⊹ ࣪ ˖𐙚

Warnings; praising, dirty talk, salivating, daddy kink, penetration, oral (fem receiving), edging, that’s all I could think of. Filth. You get the picture

Maya; I’m so sorry this took forever!

Word count; 2.6k

“Go ahead and lay down…”

Gun’s tone is a little different this time, softer than usual. But not enough to let your guard down, even so, you’ll need to be cautious. You already knew this when this is what you signed up for. “W-what position do you want me in?” You ask trying not to sound too nervous but the shakiness in your voice says it all. But Gun couldn’t help his growing sly grin.

“My, asking questions already? You’re already pleasing me like a good girl. Very well. Get on your hands and knees on the bed.”

With your body still trembling more than you’d like, you obey his soft commands and climb on the bed getting into the position that he wanted, letting your most sacred parts of your body on display for him. While you’re naked and ready for the taking, Gun takes a moment to really get a good view of you. Why rush into things? He’d like to take his time with someone who hasn’t been used up, yet.

His eyes follow every inch of you, the color of your clit and hole thats just begging for his cock to stretch it out and hear you sing. The shape of it, how tight you look, and now he wants to know how you taste. But he’ll be patient, he needs to touch you first, prepare you for what’s to come.

His fingers reach up to delicately hover and lightly caress you, to find out what part of you is the most sensitive. When his fingertips feels like a feather is tickling your hot slit, you gasp a little bringing your lower body away from his touch briefly as a reflex.

Gun catches this and bites his bottom lip already brewing up plans to get you to squirm. “I’ve found it…”

His words leave you more nervous, he’s a cold bastard and you don’t want to get on his bad side so you just wait for his next action. The pads of his fingers rub slowly and press against your throbbing area, with your lips muffled against the pillow you moan from surprise that seems to please him.

“I wouldn’t want to break you too soon, after all, you won’t be loose just yet. But I plan on making you my little slut after this night.”

His words leaves your heart swelling beneath your chest trying to process what you’ve gotten yourself into. But there’s no regrets, you wanted this and so did he. More so he wanted this first but his seduction and how hypnotizing he could be you just fell apart. Gun continues to use his fingers from one hand, the sound of flicking from a cigarette fills your ears from behind you. Even when he’s about to fill you up he needs a damn cigarette? With the hand that isn’t violating your cunt, he uses it to inhale the needed nicotine down his throat before letting out a content sigh.

The smell of the stick waves under your nose as you keep feeling his light touches upon your area. You’ll give it time before you decide to beg, but the longer you wait the more the nerves build up. Finally when the tip of a wet muscle drags down your sensitive skin, you gasp again becoming a slight moaning mess from just two or three dragging licks from his tongue. You could hear the evil chuckles behind you, making his breath blow on the spot.

“It seems that you’re so desperate for pleasure and you won’t beg? Now I’m curious. Let’s see how long this lasts…”

A few few more strokes, he sees the view of the delicious sound of your slick leaking out of your core “mm, you taste so good. I wanna taste every inch of you.” There’s a groan past his lips before he buries his whole face into her pussy practically inhaling it. His teeth sucking on your sensitive spot oh-so-gently. You can practically see stars from how he’s treating your virgin area more gentle than you’d thought while at the same time he clearly wants to devour you.

“Mm, still won’t beg?”

He resurfaced and rubs the digit of his index finger across your aching clit, your hands fingers clench on the bed. At this point you’ll break apart and he hasn’t even done anything yet. That might be embarrassing for you. So you’ll swallow your pride and nerves, “Gun… please! Please, please fuck me!” The hint of whiny tones that escape your lips make Gun smirk almost menacingly “Now was that so hard, princess? Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle. For now.”

You stay in the doggy position on the bed while you prepare for Gun’s thick cock ahead. The rub across your slit from his tip followed by a sudden slap with his shaft sending a loud wet ‘smack’ sound. You joint up earning a little yelp, making Gun groan turning into a little dark chuckle “it seems that you want it more than you lead on.”

Slowly he positions his tip around your entrance and carefully pushes inside, “stay nice and wide for me, baby.” He coos as the palm of his hand stays on your ass cheek, watching as he slides deeper trying to be considerate with any pain you feel. You whimper when he fills up your walls, it does hurt you but you stay calm and try to be relaxed so he can just pound into you.

It’s not so bad that you need him to stop, but it’s enough to make your knees that were pressed on the cushions to shake a little. “Shh, you’re doing so good. Taking my cock like a good girl.” He slides deeper until his balls are now up against your clit. You immediately drag out a moan once all of the uncomfortable feeling has disappeared and replaced with the wanted pleasure.

You can’t help but grip around him so tight that he hisses through his teeth, “Hey, now (Y/N). You keep squeezing me with that tight pussy of yours like that and I’m gonna cum too early. And you won’t get to have yours~”

You bite back any whiny protests about how you can’t help it, it just feels too good already but instead you obey his soft commands and try not to squish your walls on his shaft.

With slow movements from his hips creating a series of low gushing sounds he tips his head back inhaling when his lips part. Your own noises of pleasure were drowning his ears, you just sound so sweet. “Damn, (Y/N). You feel so… fffucking good.” He sighs as his hands begin to roll down your back to the curve to your ass.

Your whines and breathy screams just makes him want to pound into you with no mercy. But he’ll stay patient before he gets to do that. He grinds against your walls, making sure you feel every inch of his length and seeing how he’s making you coax his shaft with how soaking wet you are. “Ahh! Gun!” You squeak a little while you’re slowly being opened up for him to fill you up further.

“What’s wrong? You want me to fuck this pussy until you can’t take it already?” You can hear the cockiness in how much he’s enjoying making you so needy. “Are you sure you can handle it?” His palm brushes over your cheek again, then dives right in between your legs to rub on the hood of your clit. He moans at the feeling of how much you want him.

“Yes! I can handle it now I can take it!”

You know that you’re only digging your own grave but you had a slight idea what you’re signing up for when you agreed to do this with Gun in the first place.

Gun lets out a little throaty chuckle, “if you say so. Very well. But I’m not stopping or slowing down.”

You let the warning sink in your head for a second before he picks up the pace with every thrust. The way you scream for him was just so delicious he couldn’t help but pound into your tight hole even faster. “So tight. And all mine.” Swiftly landing his palm on your bouncing skin following loud smacks from his hips hitting your ass, he groans when you open up more and more like your pussy is letting him in so easily.

“You’re being such a good girl, (Y/N). I’ll give you a sweet reward after.”

The praising causes your walls to grip on his shaft once more before immediately letting go trying not to make him cum just yet. But getting validated by this man makes you want to stay obedient to every command he gives.

Loud cries fall from your lips as salty tears stream down your red puffy face, so much sensitivity in your gummy walls as his thick hot cock strokes with no mercy leaves you already feeling drained. Gun tips his head back panting and groaning at how good this feels, how you’re being such a good girl for him, like he can almost smell your fear that leads you to not want any punishments.

Although… Punishing you for absolutely no reason whatsoever would be quite a treat too. But he’ll probably wait for that for another day. Since you will see him again, and he’ll make sure that you know this too. Finally he couldn’t take it anymore, he presses his large inked hand down against your back.

Pressing his palm into the spot between your shoulder blades to keep you still while he drives in faster, his curved tip hits just the right area you needed. Making your eyes roll back and begin to drool. For a brief moment you stop your screaming while your brain was turning blank. The only sounds being the rough slapping from his hips making contact with your ass cheeks that would be very sore once he was done.

When your able to find your voice again your toes curl and squeeze with a sudden heat wave experience down your body you couldn’t quite help but sob for.

“Ohh fuck! You wanna cum, I can feel it. But not yet, sweetheart. I won’t push you too hard since this is your first time but soon, you’ll be able to edge for hours…”

That sounded more like a threat than a promise.

While he continues to hit against that sweet spot you find it more difficult and uncomfortable with how you try to deny your orgasm. It feels like your body just needs to burst. And Gun makes it harder purposely of course when he then pulls you back gripping on your waist to watch your ass have ripples from the constant bouncing and slapping.

Your mind gets a little foggy, and your vision briefly spins in circles but you try to hold back as much as you can, noticed by Gun he moans at how obedient you’re being underneath him. The springs from the mattress creak mixed with your longing screams from your throat you made from reflex.

When his balls swing and smack against your clit roughly it adds to the friction and getting it harder to keep in check with your climax. When finally after an only minute you can’t take it anymore.

“Please!! Gun, I don’t think I can do this any longer ple-ease!!”

At the sounds of your begging Gun needs to hold back his own urge to release just so you can have yours like a gentleman.

“Ohh ffuck, do it. Cum on this cock! Then I’ll cum on your face!” With his permission your body tenses up to squeeze out the thick cum across his shaft. From how tight your walls clench from that orgasm he hisses and pulls out as quick as possible so he’d flip you over and pull on your hair making sure his juices spray and land on your face. He moans out breathlessly as he watches himself paint on you, rubbing his tip across your chin and forehead letting it dribble on your skin.

Gun chuckles a little letting the sight sink in. He nods in approval, so much pride and arrogance that fuels the fact that he claimed you well, but he wasn’t done. Nope. He was ready to see just how far you could go before he could make you pass out from exhaustion.

“Go ahead and spread your legs, I’ll give you the sweet reward I promised you.”

A heated sensation is felt on your face and ears but you nod and lay on your back feeling the damp blankets from the amount of sweat you have. Gun groans at the sight with his cum still coated on your face while your own cum is leaking out of your warmth.

He dives right in with no mercy or hesitation upfront. You can almost scream just from how amazing his tongue and lips feel against your pulsating clit as he spreads your folds open with his fingers.

He moans from your taste making him go wild, burying his nose nuzzling it while inhaling you. Sucking the hood of your clit giving it little nibbles your brain pauses for a moment, his fingers slipping into your opened core just adds to the pleasure with slow motions listening to your juices up against his face. You can see his black eyes get a little hazy.

You knew you’d have to ask for permission to let loose in his mouth but then it just felt so good that you greedily didn’t want him to stop. Gun focuses on between your folds for a little bit before replacing his fingers for his tongue circling around your entrance while his thumb pressed against your clit with very motions. Your eyes can’t help but get to the back of your skull while in the middle of seeing stars.

He catches your pleased reactions and has it purposely difficult not to release just yet. Just when you’re on the brink of asking for it he pulls away with a sudden warning expression. “Ah… I plan on edging you further, even if your body can’t take it anymore.” He’s just so addicted to breaking you already.

Your nails scratch and dig into the wet blankets below you, ten minutes of holding it all back goes by and you somehow feel like you’re weak knowing that you might not be able to go through with this little game of his.

Another ten minutes and suddenly you can’t get enough, even if you’re trembling hard your body threatens to cum with no control over it. But you are still successful with this aching feeling. “Hah, p-please Gun! I wa—“ Gun’s hand crashes down on your mouth silencing you shaking his head. “I don’t need you to beg, that’s not what I want right now. I want to see you falling apart. I guess I just wasn’t so clear about that.” His heavy body hovers above you, quivering and in pain.

The digits of his slim fingers easily slick past your pulsating hole, rubbing on the spot he knows he’d leave you destroyed with. “How’s that? Huh?” His tone mocking and mean, you can’t take it. “You’re fucking soaking. And you’re squeezing on my fingers so tight so a little whore. You’re definitely struggling yet you’re doing such a good job. I don’t know if I should reward you, or just want to make you suffer more…”

Gun definitely has a new obsession now. Maybe he’ll be thinking of you when he gets really excited when he’s fighting.

[fortheloveoffanfic]

What if this is the last time I see you?

Hozier x fem!reader

Author's note: I'm sorry that I haven't finished one angsty story before forcing another onto you. But this one is shorter, I promise.

Summary: A chance run-in between exes at the farmers market leaves Andrew wondering if he’ll be okay never seeing Y/n again. Part 1 of 2.

Warnings: ANGST

At first, Andrew thinks his eyes must be playing tricks on him. But the longer he stares, the more it makes sense – and the more it makes sense, the more he is convinced. A pop-up farmers market, a fruit vendor selling an assortment of brightly coloured, sure-to-be sweet, freshly picked fruit. Or so he says.

She’s wearing a jacket that he swears he’s seen before, but it could’ve very well been on a mannequin in a store front and not in her closet – or on her body.

But he’s certain that its her. She’s carrying the basket in a way that’s all too familiar. She’s looking at strawberries and those are her favorite in the summer. It must be her.

So it must be divine intervention that he drove past the farmers market and decided to stop, because Andrew usually gets his produce at the grocery store, on the occasion that he’s home for long enough to do his own shopping.

Setting down the bright, glossy apple he’d been holding onto for a criminally long period, he inches towards her little section of the booth, debating what he should say. ‘Hi’ doesn’t feel like enough, but he fears that if he takes a chance with anything more he might stomp all over their impromptu reunion. He doesn’t want to be too much;

What a funny thought, he thinks. Considering the whole reason for their end was because he wasn’t enough.

Well, that might be a bit of an unfair distribution of blame. He’s pretty good at playing the victim where the demise of their relationship is concerned.

By the time he reaches her, Y/n has already placed a few strawberries into a plastic baggie and is looking for a few more to round off her purchase. And he settles on the very measly and shamefully uneventful; “hey.”

Surprised, Y/n jumps slightly and twists to face him, eyes going wide. “Andy, oh my gosh, hey.” She hesitates for a moment before reaching out for a hug that becomes quite a clumsy endeavor. They don’t seem to know each other as well as they used to; he can’t tell if she’s reaching for his neck or midsection, so their limbs get tangled in a strange manner. “Sorry,” she mumbles bashfully when the whole thing goes on for longer than any ‘I haven’t seen you in five years’ hug should take.

Shrugging off the unwarranted apology, Andrew stuffs his hands into the pockets of his dark jeans in an effort to keep himself from touching her again. “How have you been?” He tries to sound nonchalant, but his gaze drips to her left hand, looking for any sign of a ring. And when there isn’t one, he feels a knot in his chest loosen a little.

“I’ve been….” Y/n trails off, as if the question is the hardest one she’s been asked in a while. In some ways, she supposes it is. Is she supposed to lie to Andrew? Tell him she’s fine and happy and her life is going fantastically well when the truth is she hasn’t been able to scrub the memory of him from her mind and she still buys his favorite brand of tea because when it brews, the smell makes her house feel a little more like home. “I’ve been alright,” its something between the truth and any lie she can tell; she is alright. Alive and healthy, if only a little sad sometimes – but who isn’t, right? “You?”

Andrew fumbles with his words, he’s not sure why but the question feels almost taunting. Why would she throw that back to him? Why wouldn’t she just assume that she’s stowed the best of him into a box and taken it along with her? Everyone else sees it, they tell him he hasn’t looked the same since she left, that he talks differently and he’s truly a little depressing to be around sometimes. “I’m…..okay.” Just okay – not good, not bad, but somewhere in limbo, surviving.

At his response, Y/n nods absently. God, he wishes he knew what that meant. He wishes he still knew her well enough to know what anything she does means. There used to be things that only he understood about Y/n. There’s a version of her in his mind that still whispers in the dark, even if they’re the only people in the room, and ensures all the cutlery in the drawer is packed in the same direction. There’s a version of her that might have tilted her head at his response, and told him that she knows that ‘okay’ is never just ‘okay.’

But this is someone else, someone he doesn’t know. But he loves her anyway.

He’ll love every version of her. But at least he’s only lost one.

“You’re probably the last person I’d expect to run into, here especially,” but maybe she doesn’t really know him that well anymore. Maybe he goes to the farmer’s market every Sunday now and they’ve just been missing each other.

Maybe he goes with his girlfriend - a wife even -and right now she's at another vendor. She's going to be back soon. And she'll be beautiful and Y/n will think; no wonder he let me go so easily, because he knew there was better was out there.

Shaking off the unsettling thought, Y/n adds, “you used to get everything at the grocery store.”

“You used to grow everything yourself,” he notes, not maliciously though. It's really just an innocent observation; he wonders why she stopped.

“I guess…..we’ve changed,” Y/n muses, and a little sliver of her wonders if they’ve changed enough to make it work for a second time around.

“Not too much, I hope,” but what he really means to say is; ‘I hope we’re still the kind of people that can love each other.’ “Ehm,” he clears his throat softly, and finally gathers the courage to ask what he’d been thinking about since he discreetly examined her finger, “seeing anyone?”

What a question! Simultaneously, it makes her want to laugh and cry. “Not right now, no.” Of course, she’s seen other people since their break-up, but nothing ever sticks, and that might be because every man is now measured to Andrew; does it taste the same when they kiss her? Hold her hand the way he used to? Do they tell the same sort of jokes or thread their fingers through her hair before falling asleep? “What about you?”

Andrew waves his hand dismissively, “no one serious,” there isn't really anyone at all, but he doesn’t want to seem like he’s a complete wreck and one more white lie can’t hurt.

“Good,” the word slips out almost without thought, and Y/n quickly shakes her head when Andrew arches a brow. He isn't supposed to know that she's relieved; that he just quashed one of her biggest fears - that there's another woman that knows him as well as she does, but couldn't love him half as much, “well....not good. Just you know….you’re good at being on your own,” he was pretty damn good on his own even when they lived in the same house, “so I’m sure you’re doing good,” god, she wishes she had stopped talking three minutes ago.

Hesitating, he bites his tongue as the urge to tell her that he's not okay and it's all her fault wells up. Didn’t she see the lie in his eyes when he said he was okay? Is he that much of a stranger to her now?

Again, Andrew shrugs halfheartedly, “I’ve been okay,” he repeats before pressing his lips into a thin line. He doesn’t trust himself to add anything more, because then he’ll say he still misses her and its been far too long for him to still be mourning an empty side of the bed and the sound of her laughter in the drawing room.

He shouldn’t still go into his home studio and still expect her to come trailing after him, armed with a book with the intention of curling up on the sofa that gets just the right amount of noon sun. He shouldn't miss the way she looks while humming along softly to what he's working on, blanket draped on her folded legs, hazy light washing her face - he shouldn’t have left her blanket there after all this time.

He shouldn’t even be thinking about it, because the more he does, the more he wants to tell her. Beg Y/n to come back – to take him back because he’s really only half himself without her.

“I should let you –”

“You probably have –”

“Sorry.” Another clumsy, awkward apology, this one in aching unison. There’s silence for a while, and Y/n tugs her lower lip between her teeth. In a way, it feels like they’ve been standing there for too long, at least, like this. Not knowing what to say to each other, with the nails of her free hand digging into her palm so she doesn’t reach out to touch his arm. It shouldn’t be like this, she never wanted them to come to this; reduced to two awfully familiar strangers. “I should um….I have to….go…” She goes to say home, but the word doesn’t come, “I gotta go, Andrew.”

Swallowing the lump that’s been caught in his throat since he first saw fifteen minutes earlier, Andrew nods stiffly. “Of course,” he breathes. The last thing he wants is for her to leave, but he doesn’t really have any right to keep her. “I’ll leave you to it.” They both nod that time, shy and unsure but no one leaves. Not immediately. His eyes stay matching hers, and there’s a hundred things weighing down the tip of his tongue, but clinging to it like molten sugar.

I'm sorry I let you walk out, I'm sorry about everything. I still keep your ring in my nightstand, just in case. My mom still asks about you. I should've been better, let you in and I know that now. I'd do it now. I'm actually horrible on my own now, because you've ruined me in the best way - and the worst. But he doesn't say any of it; the moment is long gone and his pride does a pretty good job at keeping him quiet.

A shuddered breath escapes her lips upon realizing that she actually hasn’t moved an inch; Y/n doesn’t think she can be the one to bring herself to leave this time. She doesn't want to turn her back to him again. So she lingers, and she swears roots are sprouting from the soles of her feet, keeping her in place, staring into his eyes because lost in them is suddenly the only place she wants to be.

“I should go,” he eventually determines, glancing away. Though, the minute he says it, Andrew is lashed with immediate regret; he does not want to go. He doesn’t want to leave, but he suspects that this time its entirely on him to turn around and walk away.

“Right, right,” Y/n blinks quickly, then, just as he’s about to turn, she interjects, if only for the purpose of holding him there a little longer, “it was really nice seeing you.”

He nods, but doesn’t say anything, not right then. Though, when he turns away and starts retreating to the other end of the small tent, squinting his eyes at the midday sun, catching him square in the face, he pauses. Throwing a cautious backwards glance her way, he finds that Y/n has returned to picking out strawberries and on a whim, Andrew finally allows himself a singular moment of weakness – perhaps in a way of giving her what she’s wanted since their very last fight. “I’ve missed you,” he utters.

Y/n’s head snaps up just as she hands the bag over to the vendor for weighting, “what?” Her brows are furrowed and her lips are slightly agape.

Hating the sudden vulnerability that comes with those three little words, he shakes his head, “nothing. I’ll see you around,” he spares her a short wave, and she does the same.

After that, not a single word is traded between them again; Y/n pays, plops the bag into her basket, and walks off, and he watches her go. There’s a sinking feeling in his chest as she weaves her way through the busy market, and there’s a strange sort of finality in the moment where the last inkling of her green jacket disappears.

What if he never sees her again? What if that moment, in that tent, surrounded by fruits honeyed by summer’s warmth and the bitter heartache of something unfinished, constitutes the last fifteen minutes they will ever share?

What if she’s gone from his life forever and he’s damned to an eternity spent looking at her pictures and never hearing her voice again? Wondering what she’s doing and if she’s finally moved on from him?

Can he survive it? Truly? Without feeling like a shell just being shuffled around by the wind?

Returning to the assortment of ruby-toned apples, he struggles to escape the onslaught in his mind and Andrew finds himself unable to choose any, not even one, so he goes with strawberries instead.

To be continued.....

[bigjaws]

How do you tell someone that you believe they might be on the spectrum? He’s 26 😕

[cat-tranzer]

ugh i kinda wanna get back on tumblr and rot my brain out some more

[selfcarecap]

Practice [L.H]

pairing: Logan Howlett x reader

summary: Your roommate Logan lets you practise giving a blowjob on him for your date with another guy.

warnings: smut, 18+, oral sex (f&m receiving, reader’s first time), Logan is a liittle mean but just a little and he gets softer towards the end, spitting,  jerking off, Logan keeps his socks on I think it’s hot okay 😭😭, Logan calls reader bub, baby, good girl, pretty girl; Wade is mentioned but I’m imagining a younger Logan than in DP&W

word count: 3.2k (this was supposed to be a drabble lol idk what happened)

“Who’s the lucky guy?” Logan asks from the sofa as you walk past him in your pretty date outfit. You’ve got some time left before your date but you decided to get ready early in a bout of nervousness.

“This guy I’ve been seeing,” you tell him, trying to seem nonchalant. You haven’t yet mentioned to Logan that you’ve been on a few dates. He spends a lot of time in his room, away from you and Wade, and he just never happened to be there to hear about your dates.

Logan mutes the tv. “What guy?”

“Met him online.”

“And he’s so good to you that you get this pretty for him?”

You smile at his indirect compliment and sit down next to him.

“Yeah, he’s nice. I… I think we might go a step further today,” you feel your cheeks heating up, “I’m kind of nervous.”

You see his jaw clench slightly, “If he’s a good guy he shouldn’t make you nervous.”

“I’m not nervous because of him, it’s just that it would be my first time. And I don’t want to be bad.”

He chuckles and leans back, “You won’t be bad. Just make him go on top.”

Logan isn’t taking your hint, so you take a deep breath to gather your courage. “What if he wants me to go down on him and I don’t know how to do it? Will you…” your voice falters as his eyes meet yours.

“Will you help me?” you stutter and Logan immediately begins to smirk. Embarrassment spreads through your body.

“Help you how?” He asks, smug.

It’s too late to go back now. “Well, I don’t know. Like, explain how it works or.. you could show me?” you shrug.

“You probably know better than me how to find porn online.”

“No, I mean show me on you.” That’s all the courage you can muster for the day and you wonder if you will even have the strength to look back into Logan’s eyes. He solves that problem for you, putting a finger under your chin and pushing it up so you’re looking at him.

“You wanna suck my cock?” He sounds annoyed and you immediately want to die.

“It wouldn’t have to mean anything,” you look at his cheeks, his nose, anywhere but his eyes, “I just wanna know if I’m doing it right. It’s okay if you can’t cum, I just want to practise.”

Logan scans your face for a sign of discomfort – other than your embarrassment – but he doesn’t find any. His features soften, “You really wanna go down on me, bub?”

You nod quickly, “For practice.”

“Mhm, for practice.” He’s mocking you, but all you can do is ignore it.

A thrill shoots through your body at his next words: “C’mere then.” He spreads his legs, clothed in jeans that strain around the thickness of his delicious thighs. You can see the outline of his abs through his tank top. You can’t believe this is happening – you’ve had a crush on him since you saw him for the first time.

Logan beckons you between his legs and you move to sit on the carpet, its fluffiness stopping your bare knees from hurting. Your short skirt rides up your ass and you pull it down self-consciously despite what you’re about to do.

“You sure about this, bub?” Logan asks again from above you. You gulp when you look up at him. How does he look even better from below?

“Yeah,” you assure him, your panties already growing wet. You sit down and try to patiently wait for instruction but you end up squirming. When you look back up at Logan he’s got one of his eyebrows raised.

“You don’t know how to open a belt either?”

“Well, yeah but don’t we have to–” your mouth starts to water when the rough clink of his belt interrupts you. He’s all but ripping open his belt; he unbuttons his jeans and takes out his hard cock. You almost get goosebumps.

“Oh,” you say.

“If a guy likes you, he doesn’t need any time to get ready. Foreplay is just to get the woman nice and wet,” Logan tells you, although you’re barely listening. All you know is that you wouldn’t need the foreplay either, you’re uncomfortably wet, trying to get friction against your legs that are folded underneath you.

Logan watches you stare at his erection, “Take your top off. I like seeing your pretty face but that’ll make it an even nicer view.”

“But I’m not wearing anything underneath,” you thumb at the thin straps of your top.

He smirks, “even better.” He reaches down to pull the top up by your waist but then hesitates.

You nod but Logan rolls his eyes. “Use your words.”

“You can take it off,” you say but you nevertheless put your arms in front of your tits when he pulls your top over your head. 

Logan chuckles, “Baby, I’ve been dying to see your tits since I first met you. You really think you gotta hide?” The nickname makes you melt and your arms immediately drop to your sides. 

You sit up straighter as Logan lets out a low moan, “God, look at you. So fucking perfect.” He reaches out to grope your tits almost clumsily. His cock bobs in front of you as he leans down to touch you and you feel yourself getting addicted to him already. You just want to start.

With a last rough squeeze of your tit, Logan leans back. “Wet your lips,” he instructs. You lick your lips.

“Wetter,” he says, and your eyebrows crease in confusion as you lick your lips again.

Logan huffs, spits into his hand, and smears his spit over your mouth, “There. Don’t you look fucking pretty like this.” You just about purr against his hand and then push against it with your cheek.

You place your hands on either of his knees and lean in to kiss the tip of his cock, all swollen and ready. You immediately feel the urge to go further but your shyness takes over, so you keep pressing wet kisses to his length.

“God,” Logan groans, leaning his head back in pleasure as you keep kissing, and you start to use some more spit.

“Look at you, don’t even need me to tell you what to do,” he pulls his arms behind his head smugly, like an asshole, and you smile, getting shy again. You kiss along the underside of his cock some more, getting more desperate with every second.

“What now?” You ask. 

Logan softly smiles at you for a second, pulling his jeans and boxers further down his thighs. You pull them off completely as he pulls off his top. He’s naked in front of you now, except for his socks, and you take a second to appreciate all the broadness and his muscles. The hair from his chest all the way over his abs and down to his cock is begging for you to kiss every inch of it but you force yourself to focus.

Logan takes his cock in his hand to lift it out of the way, and slowly starts to jerk off. His eyes go to you and then to his balls, and you get what he wants you to do. Still, he gives you one word: “Lick.”

You move forward, inhaling all his manly smell, instinctively going to press another wet kiss to his cock. You let spit pool in your mouth and begin to lick all over his balls, feeling the heaviness of them on your tongue.

“Take as much as you can, baby,” he rasps, continuing to jerk off. You almost slap his hand away – you want to be the one making him feel good – but you stop yourself.

You do as he tells you, opening your mouth to cover as much of him as you can, the warmth of his balls against your tongue making you drool.

“Yeah, baby, juuust like that. That’s a good girl,” he breathes heavily.

Your pussy clenches around nothing at his words, and you have to take a deep breath to focus on anything but the wet ache between your thighs.

His balls move against your tongue from his jerking off, and you gently suck on the skin, moving around a few inches every few seconds. But the movement from his hand on his cock is becoming distracting and, without thinking, you instinctively push his hand away. 

He stills and then smiles, lifting his hand away. He lightly leans his elbows on the back of the sofa to the sides of him. 

“You can start sucking my cock now if you’re ready, baby. Been doing such a good job.”

“I don’t know if I can take all of it,” you pout. Even just imagining his dick down your throat feels too much, though not in a bad way. He’s just so fucking big. 

“Just take as much as you can. I bet you can take more of me than you think.”

His words motivate you. You go up slightly on your knees, carefully wrapping your hand around his cock. You spit on it, letting it slowly slide down the sides as you begin to spread it with your hand. 

Logan huffs out a laugh from above you, “So adorable. You don’t need to be so careful. Here, do it like this.” He wraps his much bigger hand around yours and he starts to jerk off with your hand, showing you how rough you can be as he starts to fuck your fist. 

You clear your throat, “Can I use my mouth now?”

He bites his lip, “Ready when you are, baby. Just breathe through your nose and relax.” Oh, you’re relaxed. Being between Logan’s meaty thighs is the best you’ve felt in your life. 

You press another kiss to the tip of his cock and part your lips to take him in your mouth. The first second you feel the heaviness of his cock on your tongue is like heaven. Logan lets out a low moan and you look up to find his eyes already on your face. He looks like a god from below, his muscles starting to glisten with a thin layer of sweat.

Opening your mouth wider, you take more of him. You start to jerk him off where your mouth can’t reach but you do your best to go as deep as you can, moving up and down with your wet mouth.

The feeling of Logan’s cock in your mouth is addicting, and the quiet sounds he is making even more so. 

“Doin’ so good for me, baby,” he whispers, voice weak. You look up into his eyes as you suck his dick, spit starting to run down your hand, and a smirk spreads on Logan’s face.

“Such a pretty girl,” he leans his head back.

Your jaw is starting to strain because he’s so big but you never want to stop doing this. You swallow down the taste of his precum and can’t wait to actually make him come. He’s starting to pulse in your mouth, abs contracting with every time your tongue moves.

You’re wondering how much long–

“Y’gonna make me come, baby. Gonna come so hard,” Logan moans, and you figure he’s warning you but you want nothing more than his cum in your mouth.

You put in all the effort you can, sucking Logan’s cock further down your throat, cheeks hollowing. You start to feel him at the back of your throat, spit spilling from your lips.

Logan groans, and then he’s filling up your mouth, pumping his cum down your throat as you eagerly swallow. You look up at him through your lashes, taking in his face, his eyes shut and mouth hanging open in pleasure as a long, almost pathetic, groan comes out.

He’s coming longer than you’d expect, coming in your mouth in sticky ropes, a hand guiding the back of your head. You still pout when he’s finally drained and he slowly pulls his hips back.

Logan sighs a last breath of pleasure and holds his hand in front of your mouth. “What?” you ask.

“Spit.”

“Uh, I swallowed,” you say.

“Really?”

You stick out your tongue for Logan to see your empty mouth.

He smirks. “God,” he huffs, “so fucking perfect. C’mere.” He pulls you up to the sofa and sits you on his lap, your bare chest against his. Logan pushes his mouth against yours, kissing you like he’s filled with a new desire, as if you didn’t just make him come.

You don’t get to kiss him for very long though, because he pulls you to lie down on the sofa, turning so your legs are spread around him.

“‘m gonna show you what it’s supposed to feel like for someone to eat your pussy. Just so you know your date is doin’ it right, ‘kay?”

What date? You almost ask. You remember for a second but then, looking at him, all of your thoughts are replaced with Logan again. “Yes,” you nod hornily, “Please.”

“There you go, got you even saying please now. You want it that bad, huh?”

All you can do is nod as he pulls down your skirt and panties. He almost goes cross-eyed when he sees your pussy for the first time.

“God, baby, you coulda said something. Such an eager little thing. You got that wet from having my cock in your mouth, hm? Gonna make you come so good, yeah?”

You nod again and he bends down to press another sloppy kiss to your lips, kissing down your neck and stopping at your chest, “Can’t get enough of these,” he plays with your tits, desperately grabbing at them like a man seeing a woman naked for the first time.

He smiles up at you when he realises how much time he’s spent at your chest, pressing a last kiss to your sternum before placing one of his big hands on your tit and kissing further down. You assume he’s going to stop before he gets to your pussy, just to tease you, but he kisses all the way down from your belly button to your clit, starting to make out with your pussy.

“Logan,” you moan, your hand flying to his hand on one of your boobs.

“Feel good?” He asks, and you almost faint when you look at his head pushed between your thighs. He looks exactly right, as if this is where he was meant to be the entire time.

“Mhmm.”

He chuckles against your pussy, tongue darting out to play with your clit. The ache between your legs starts to get worse with him there, and you feel your pussy clenching around nothing.

Logan smirks and pushes your thighs further apart with a rough hand. He starts to gently rub your clit, and you’ve finally got the friction you’ve been needing this entire time. You’re already close. 

You let out an involuntary moan as he pushes his thick middle finger inside you, and you grip his hand on your tit harder, and he squeezes you there, lovingly. 

“I got you, baby,” he says into your pussy before starting to fuck you with his finger, pushing another one in as he begins to rub a sweet little spot inside that you can never reach yourself. 

He leans in to start licking your clit again, circling it with his tongue and, ever so slightly, beginning to suck. 

You’re so close, the waves of pleasure almost, just almost, flooding over you. You squirm, your knees pushing together, held open by his broad shoulders. 

Logan sucks harder, fingers fucking into you with your clit pulsing against his tongue. 

It only takes a few more seconds of Logan’s mouth on your pussy for you to come. Pleasure explodes within you and floods your entire body as you arch your back, pushing further into him and his wet mouth and thick fingers.

Logan doesn’t stop until you’re satisfied and your legs go numb around him.

He grins at you, biting his lip to stop his smile from spreading too far, and he presses a kiss to the middle of your belly, squeezing your tit gently before letting go. You feel cold without him there.

With your legs still around him, you instinctively pull him in and he lies down next to you on the sofa, gently caging you against the back of it to give you the more comfortable side as he balances on the edge.

“You wanna know how good you taste?” Logan asks, not waiting for an answer before he kisses you. You slide your hand behind his neck to pull him in, tasting yourself on his tongue.

He stops kissing you. “So.. you still going on your date?”

You feel your cheeks getting hot, “What if I told youuu…” you twirl a strand of Logan’s hair that’s hanging over his forehead, “that there never was a date. Or a guy.”

Logan breaks out in a smile, “You were too shy to ask me to fuck you so you made up an entire person?”

You hear the key turning in the lock in that moment, and even though you’ll be covered by the back of the sofa Logan shields you with his hands as best as he can, reaching for your clothes.

Wade comes in and you immediately sit up, holding Logan’s hand and forearm to your tits to cover them.

“Guess what happened?” you squeal at Wade.

Wade’s eyes go over to you and then to Logan, and he drops his bags of grocery shopping to jump up and down, “Was it my plan? I told you my plan would work!”

You grin, “It was your plan.”

Logan looks between you and Wade, rolling his eyes but he’s unable to hide a smile.

“It was a good plan, right? I told her she could just ask you out but she was too shy so I told her to make up a guy she’s dating,” Wade explains.

“Alright,” Logan laughs quietly, “Now fuck off so I can fuck my girl again.”

Wade’s eyes go wide and he says what you’re thinking, “My girl? I’d faint if he called me that. You owe me,” he points at you.

You blow a kiss at Wade and he pretends to catch it, pressing it to his lap. You roll your eyes and smile, waving at him, “You heard him, we’ve got stuff to do.”

The almost animalistic smirk Logan gives you when Wade is gone should scare you, but it only makes you want him more. He picks you up in his arms, carrying you to his room. You can’t wait for what’s to come.

-

P.S. Logan thinks good girls reblog and comment on the fics they enjoy 🩷🫣

[bunnis-monsters]

Hi there I hope your doing alright and i hope all your haters stub their pinkie toe for the rest of the year!

Can i get a high elf a real sophisticated kinda snobby man being obsessed over his fem human readers soft frame in a sort of primal way?

Sexy time with the fancy man please!

A/N: I really liked this concept, maybe I’ll do a part 2 if peope want it!

It wasn’t often that people like him entered your bakery.

Elves in the area were known for being pretty snobby, refusing food touched by human hands even if they were starving.

So to say that you were surprised when a noble elf walked into your bakery and stood in front of your counter was an understatement.

“H-hello, how can I help you? All of the baked goods here are freshly made with ingredients sourced f-“

He cut you off his a wave of his hand, staring at you for a moment before speaking.

“… I’ll take all of it.”

You were so confused… an elf of his status was biting into one of your pastries, staring at you as he sat at one of the small tables in your bakery. It was an unusual sight… and it was scaring off your regulars.

This happened weekly for a few months. The elf would walk in, but all of your goods, the eat a few before leaving.

It made you a lot of money and helped you gain notoriety within wealthy human circles, but it still unnerved you.

What reason did he have for being there? As a child, you had always been warned to not mingle with elves too much.

They lived much longer lives, so they didn’t see human life as something that should be cherished since humans died within a century of being born.

But… you didn’t think this elf was out to harm you. He payed for your goods like any other customer would and never bothered you besides staring… so what was the harm in letting this continue?

Well you would find out one evening when he arrived later than usual, his eyes scanning your form in an almost hungry way.

You were just about to close up shop, but let him in hoping to sell your remaining pastries. Once he was inside, you switched over the open sign to close.

It seemed to please him that he had some sort of special privilege, allowed to stay when others wouldn’t be able to.

“Good evening, my dear. Usually I would be buying your lovely pastries… but I’m here for… something different today.”

Before you could ask what he wanted, the elf was already walking behind the counter and getting in your personal space. He removed the glove from his hand, gently caressing your chubby cheek.

“I’ve never felt the urge to… touch a human woman before. But… you certainly have brought out a different side of me.”

His touch was gentle, as if he were caressing the face of a goddess he had come to worship. You could feel your cheeks getting warm from the praise, not sued to being ass as something tantalizing and tempting to someone as beautiful as him.

“Y-your words are very kind, sir… b-but my shop is closing soon,” you answered shyly, looking away from his intense gaze.

“Oh, my little cherub… shh, this shop of yours is open just for me, is it not? You could have locked the doors and shooed me away, yet I am here.”

Before you could process it, you were being lifted up onto the counter, your dress slid up by his lithe hands so he could gaze at your plump thighs.

“So soft, gods what a beauty…”

It was kind of cute, the way his elf ears twitched as he looked at your body in awe, as if he had never seen a woman like you before.

His cheeks were red, his eyes hazy as he growled lowly before leaning forward to inhale your scent. His body shook with need, and with a strength you didn’t think the lithe man had, he pinned you down and rutted against you.

You could feel his hard cock pushing into your clothes pussy, as if trying to fuck you through you panties. His need for you was primal, animalistic, he was almost drooling.

Before he could rip off your underwear and take you there, he bit down on his lip, his fingertips nearly bruising your hips as he tried to calm himself.

“My apologies, love… it’s just so hard to… control myself when I’m around you…”

He kissed along your neck, biting down on a sensitive spot, causing you to whine out in surprise.

“Shh, my darling… come. Let us retire to my home. We have… much to discuss.”

Part 2?

———————

NSFW TAGLIST: @sunset-214 @strawberrypoundtown @avalordream @icommitwarcrimes @bazpire @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @unforgettablewhvre @yoongiigolden @peachesdabunny @murder-hobo @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @i8kaeya @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @keikokashi @aliceattheart @mssmil3y @spicyspicyliving @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @healanette @lem-hhn @spufflepuff @honey-crypt @karljra @zyettemoon1800 @exodiam @vexillum-moeru @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @buckoothecow @binnieonabike @enchantedsylveon @mysticranger575 @readeryn68 @danielle143 @kittenlover614 @filthybunny420 @annavittoria-mm @makimamybelovedwife @blubearxy @omglovelylaila

[soarrenbluejay]

Since I’ve been encouraged to actually share my funny little blorbo ideas here’s another one gang;

Danny moves to Gotham on scholarship for engineering, because the Fentons may be infamous but they’re also insanely brilliant and besides both he and Jazz are showing every sign of embarrassed child of a super genius syndrome, so while the bats are keeping a close eye on him Just In Case, duke is also thinking of introducing him to the Our Parents Are Maniacs But Anyway club maybe after the first month or so.

Gotham does not go for standard dorm living bc of his ‘condition’ and lack of wanting to constantly spook/gaslight a roommate. Besides, living with two small children is a dorm sounds like a disaster in action.

So Danny signs up as a mechanic in Crime Alley, buys himself a teeny weensy lil apartment and Makes It Work. He has been all year after showing up with a de aged Dani and Dan in Amnity after all, and that had gone,,, fine? (The entire town, observing how Danny had been getting increasingly more uncomfortable around his godfather prior to the cloning incident, then just dropped off the face of the earth for several months, the first two weeks stuck in Vlad’s basement enduring horrors and the next Too Many desperately fapping around in the Ghost Zone to get everything handled. All the clones live, all 13 of them. Bunch of them are stuck in the Ghost Zone due to constant need for ectoplasm, but eh, plenty of Zone born never leave, so. One, in the future, apprentices under a green warrior lady on Pandora’s suggestion, another is working in the Eternal Library with Ghost Writer, etc etc. so Danny eventually came back to Amnity with one small child under each arm very obviously traumatized by Somethingn with vlad and doesn’t like being alone with him,,, or touched without warning,, and immediately and passionately proclaims the kids his but struggles to explain how or why,, look some very reasonable assumptions are drawn okay. So the town does the very reasonable thing and does the midwestern equivilant of excommunicating Vlad, except it’s a lot more run him out with pitchforks vibes since he’s the Mayor. Anyway)

He is immediately loved, because while non Gothamites are usually more of a pain than they’re worth, everyone in a while someone even from out of town will just fit in so nicely it’s uncanny for everyone involved. Addams family vibes, it’s referred to as ‘making it home’, just personal hc. He is protective of all the kids playing in the parks and street girls that can totally take care of themselves on their corners but find it HILARIOUS when he just tackles a dick like a wild animal full force no warning. He can fix anything it seems, but refuses to work with weapons. Reasonable enough, people get twitchy about gangs sometimes. Danny mentions being not against Hood or anything, but he’s not going to work for him, littles to take care of and all, but had past experience with ‘Dora and that inheritance mess with her brother he was being a real prick about’ so everyone assumes it’s the equivilant of him having Done His Time and being plenty good for a life time and respects it as long as none of that petty midwestern small town hotshots bring any of that shit over here. And they don’t, because said individuals are on the other side of the mortal veil, so happy day.

See I really love deaged!Dan because he’s just a grumpy lil guy. But he’s also killed millions. He’s so protective of his loved ones, but held back by blending in and also being Smol that it comes off more bitey kitten than anything else. Dani, of course, is a terror, so she fits right in with the crowd.

And sorry gang, but a bunch of kids on their own in Gotham in a poor side of the city just isn’t going to get any attention: that’s just business as usual really. What first gets attention on Danny is not his ‘condition’ or being mistaken for a meta (which he legally probs has an argument for even without the gene bc like these bitches don’t know how metaism works anyway so) or alien (I’m 90% sure he’d be covered by the alien protection act by virtue of being half ‘not from earth’), but because Danny despite best efforts is a Weird Guy.

He grew up in what could only be described as a low level villain level and spent most of high school dealing with smack downs and spiritual invasion. He’s never really processed that any of that is not in fact Normal. Also, he’s capable of making Anything if given the insides of a toaster, blender and alarm clock, and could probably rewrite the circuits of the apartment blindfolded and improve them 1000% even if it ABSOLUTELY would not be up to code.

And sure, things slip every once in a while, bits of spectral ice here, small floating incident there, but everyone just Minds Their Buisness ya know? You really gunna mess with the guy that personally ensured that when your car got flattened by a fight with Killer Croc, you were still able to get in to work the next day by some wizardry? Really?

But Gotham is a city so cursed it’s probably in the exponents countwise, so of course there is a) a flourishing community of magic users and assorted supernatural weirdos and b) a whole lot of shit for Mega Overpowered Ghost King Danny to idly pick at day to day in order to help with his protecting other Obsession. Gotham has plenty of heroes, but by god do they need the spiritual equivilant of an electrician/priest.

Still, Danny, as a baby ancient under a facet of Kronos and KING OF THE DEAD is like, way, way out of their scope to be able to grok, so it mostly just comes off as you know, a family of banshees or something. When asked, Danny very haltingly says he was briefly dead but then revived, which neatly explains his Weird Ass aura and makes it SPECTACULARLY AWKWARD to ask further about. So everyone nods politely, and goes back to their lives after double checking no nefarious bullshit was being pulled.

Then, of course, Vlad finally tracks them down. The whole neighborhood is altered in short order because he doesn’t bother trying to hide being a Rich Bitch or how he’s sneering down his nose at people on the sidewalk. Every connects the dots when Danny paniks. Dani and Dan’s daycare are staffed with some extra, very buff set of hands within the hour. Jerry, Hood’s third in command, personally shows up to the garage Danny is working at to talk things out with him bc he knows he does t like the deal with this stuff due to past unspecified circumstances but well, they guys had already started fucking with him, you see. Stole his tires, spray painted the windows, pickpocketed him blind, and when he retreated tipped off the police to the drugs they’d planted in the glove box.

Danny might not have been born in Gotham, but he was one of them. And the Alley takes care of it own.

[briefinquiries]

Tyler Owens x Reader: Too Easy

Request: Anonymous asked: "okay i have a tyler owens request!! him and reader are both tornado wranglers and they’ve always had a somewhat flirty relationship, but at one point they’re out chasing and the motel they stay at that night doesn’t have enough rooms for all of them so Tyler and the reader decide to share and reader has a nightmare? or just some kind of angst or hurt/comfort with a happy ending? love ur work!"

Word count: 3.9k

Warnings: PTSD, trauma, tornado mention

A/N: I changed it from flirty to an enemies to lovers-type relationship, just because i've been craving to write that type of banter. as always, comments & replies are super appreciated!!! thanks for reading :)

As soon as you saw the familiar red Dodge truck parked outside the motel you groaned. 

“Is this guy everywhere, all the time?” Halle, one of your crew members, mumbled from the driver’s seat. She pulled your SUV into the only empty spot in the parking lot. 

She was referencing Tyler– another local storm chaser and absolute pain in your ass. His Ram truck was like a symbol all around Oklahoma. Everyone in the midwest knew his name– and what he did. You, on the other hand, knew him as a self-absorbed jerk that constantly put his and his team’s lives in danger for a few hundred thousand views on YouTube. He was cocky and obnoxious and arrogant. And you couldn’t stand him. 

Unfortunately for you though, Tyler Owens and his entire team went where the storms went. Which meant that you were stuck dealing with him– especially during tornado season. 

“Let’s just get a room, maybe we missed him,” you mumbled before turning to the backseat. “Anna, could you pass me my bag?” 

“Sure thing,” she replied, grunting as she handed your duffel over. 

“How about two rooms tonight?” you suggested. “I feel like I haven’t actually slept since we were in Austin.”

“God, I’ve been waiting for you to suggest that,” Halle mumbled. The bags around her eyes suggested she was just as eager for a good night’s sleep as you were. 

Together, the three of you dragged yourselves towards the motel lobby, exhausted and desperate for both a shower and a bed. 

“Why don’t you guys wait with all the gear? I’ll go in and book the rooms,” you offered. 

“Two of them,” Halle said with a relieved smile. 

“Two rooms coming up,” you promised. 

They nodded in agreement and settled in on the curb while you wandered inside. The bell above the door rang loudly as you stepped inside. As soon as you did, you realized that, to your absolute dismay, a familiar someone had already beat you to the front desk. You’d recognize those stupid, broad shoulders any day, even if you were sleep deprived.  

“Evenin’ m’lady,” Tyler’s little sidekick said teasingly. He tipped his baseball cap towards you.   

“Hey Boone,” you greeted back curtly.   

“What’d ya think of that beaut earlier, huh? Not too often we get two storm cells like that.”

“Yeah it was somethin’,” you replied absentmindedly. Honestly, you didn’t dislike Boone. He was friendly– maybe a little overzealous for your liking, but overall a nice guy. It was a shame he was always around Tyler– otherwise you might not always be so annoyed with him, too.  

“There she is,” Tyler beamed. He approached you and Boone while he tucked a few room keys in his wallet. “Were you fillin’ Boone in on why you picked the wrong storm to chase today? Because that’s a story I want to hear–” 

Your gaze fell to the floor, chest tightening the same way it did in the field earlier. “The winds changed last minute– I didn’t catch it,” you muttered, although you shouldn’t even have to explain yourself to this hillbilly. 

“Ah, I see. Man, you’re off your game, sweetheart. Usually it’s me missin’ those signs. What do you got cloudin’ up that pretty little mind of yours?” 

Anger began seeping into the corners of your mind. “Why do you even care?” you asked icily. “Thought you’d be happy to have that storm all to yourself.”

“Oh, I was sweetheart,” Tyler winked. “But I don’t mind sharin’ with you.”

Rolling your eyes, you pushed past him towards the front desk. A younger girl with short, red hair offered you a smile. “How can I help you?”

“I need two rooms please,” you requested, it took about all the energy you had left to smile back. 

The girl sucked in a breath of air. “Oh, I’m so sorry– this gentleman here just rented three rooms. All we have left is one.”

“One?” you asked in disbelief, mouth falling open. 

She nodded. “There’s two beds, though, if that helps.”

“Shit,” you grumbled. Your team was exhausted– and you knew that you couldn’t just take back your promise for them to have their own beds. 

“I’m sorry–” the girl repeated, but you shook your head. 

“No, it’s okay. Not your fault,” you said quickly, trying to remember your manners.. 

“Somethin’ wrong over there sweetheart?” Tyler asked teasingly.  

“Yeah, you took all but one of the rooms. Now my team doesn’t have enough.”

“C’mon, I’ve seen you guys cram into one room before.”

“Yeah, but they’re exhausted. We haven’t had our own beds in weeks and I promised them…” your voice trailed off. Why the hell were you even explaining any of this to him? “You know what? Just forget it–” you turned back towards the receptionist. “I’ll take the one room, please.”

After passing your card over and paying, you turned and pushed back past Tyler and Boone. But before you could reach the door, Tyler’s voice stopped you in your tracks. 

“What are you just gonna go back on your promise? That’s really gonna disappoint your team–”

“I’ll sleep in the damn truck,” you snapped, zero patience for any of his sarcasm or feeble attempts at a joke. “Happy?”

“Hey–” he said, voice softening instantly. “I was just kiddin’ around.”

“Really funny,” you said, sarcasm dripping off your tongue, now more than usual, Tyler was getting on your nerves. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go and disappoint my team.”

Without waiting for whatever retort Tyler could come up with next, you finally pushed your way through the door without looking back. 

You found Halle and Anna in the same place you left them– still sitting on the curb, slouched over and exhausted-looking.  

“Hey guys, bad news–” you began, guilt already spreading through your stomach. But before you could, the bell to the lobby door rang out, causing you to groan.  

You took a deep, steadying breath to calm your nerves, just in time for Tyler to speak. “Now I have an idea– how about we share? I got three rooms for my team, but that’s six beds… we only need five.”

You spun around so fast, you were surprised you didn’t get whiplash. “Look Tyler, as much as you know I love your antics, can we not do this right now? Please?”

“Who said anythin’ about antics?” he pressed. “I’m bein’ serious here. Your two can have their beds and you can take one of ours.”

“No way,” you spat quickly. “I’m sleeping in the car.”

By now, Halle and Anna had seemingly picked up on the situation. They stood up and crossed their arms disapprovingly in unison. 

“You can’t sleep in the car, that’s ridiculous,” Anna said. 

“Yeah, why don’t you and Anna take the room and I’ll share with Tyler’s crew,” Halle offered. 

“No,” you shook your head. “I promised you guys a good night’s sleep tonight– I’m not letting you crash with them.”

“Well we’re not letting you sleep in the car,” Halle argued back. “It’s like… eighty-five degrees out here.” 

You let your eyes fall shut for a moment, trying to think. But the truth was, you really were just so, so tired. You wanted everything about today– the storm cells you got wrong from earlier, the endless hours of driving, and lack of sleep, over with. And if bunking with someone from Tyler’s crew was the only way to make that happen, well then, so be it, you finally decided. Better you than Halle or Anna. 

“See– even your team isn’t as scared of us as you are,” Tyler chuckled. 

“Fine,” you snapped, shaking your head in disbelief. You couldn’t believe this was actually happening. “Who am I sharing with?”

Maybe you’d get lucky and get to room with Dani or Lilly–

“That would be me,” Tyler chirped, eyes glistening under the streetlamp. 

Well fuck me, you thought. 

…

You curled up in the double bed closest to the wall. By the time you got up to the room, Tyler had already claimed the one closest to the door.

You heard the water snap off in the bathroom, followed by the sound of Tyler peeling back the shower curtain. That was your cue to feign sleep, if only to avoid any further conversation with him for the night. You rolled over and pulled the blankets up to your chin. 

After a few minutes, he emerged from the bathroom– the noise from the fan growing louder and a sudden whiff of his shampoo washing over you. You’d never admit it– but the way he smelled was actually one of the few things you liked about Tyler. 

“I know you’re not sleepin’,” he said as he began rummaging through his bag. 

“How the hell would you know that?” you groaned. 

You heard him chuckle softly. “Because you wouldn’t have answered if you were.”

This fucking cowboy. 

“Well I’d like to be sleeping,” you said, still not rolling over to face him. 

“And here I was hopin’ we’d use our little sleepover to get to know each other a little better.”

“You can lay off the act,” you said suddenly, all of your anger and exhaustion just melting into a pool of unfiltered irritation. 

There was a brief pause before Tyler replied, “What do you mean?”

“I mean there’s no audience in here– no team members watching, no YouTube subscribers viewing us. You don’t have to pretend to be all sweet and charming.”

“I wasn’t aware I was pretending–”

“Oh cut the shit, Tyler. You love to drive me crazy me– just admit it. And it's probably my fault for letting you get to me so easily. But I mean, c'mon, was it your plan all along to just get me to share a room with you so you could keep me up all night getting to know me better?”

He let out a huff of air that sounded frustrated, as opposed to his usual amusement. “You’re something else, Y/N, you know that?”

You were caught off guard by Tyler’s use of your actual name. He always resorted to nicknames– either sweetheart or the town he knew you were from. In fact, in the few years you’d known him, the only time he’d ever repeated your name was the first time you told it to him. 

You sat up in bed and finally turned to face him– trying to gauge his demeanor. 

“I offer you a room– I didn’t have to do that, you know? And believe it or not, I didn’t offer it to you just to make your life miserable. I did it because I didn’t like the idea of you sleepin’ in your car alone–” he shook his head. “Forget it. It doesn’t matter. Goodnight.”

Before you could even think of a reply, Tyler was peeling back the covers of his own bed and crawling in. He laid on his left side, back facing you.

You stayed in place for a moment, too stunned to move or speak or do much of anything.

Eventually, you laid back down, trying your best to deny the pool of guilt spreading through your stomach.

… 

With one arm you held on to your sister's hand as hard as you could– feeling the muscles in your shoulder strain and pop as you did. 

“Hold on!” you shouted, pleading with her not to let go. 

With your other hand, you were clinging to the handle on the storm shelter door. Somehow it had managed to pop open after the two of you had escaped inside. 

She looked down at you, her body suspended in the air– nothing but sheer, unfiltered terror reflecting in her round-rimmed glasses. 

“C’mon!” you screamed. 

“Please–” she gasped. “Please don’t let me go!”

“I got you!” you screamed, but you could feel that your grip on her clammy hand wasn’t as tight as it needed to be. “No–” you yelled. 

“Don’t let me go–” she repeated, nails digging into your skin desperately. 

But you didn’t even have time to adjust your grip before she was slipping away– in the end, the winds won. 

In the blink of an eye, her body was being sucked away from you– further and further into the dark storm clouds barreling your way. 

“No!” you screamed, reaching for the spot her body was moments before. “No!” 

But then you felt your own grip slipping on the door handle and you knew you needed both hands to hold on if you wanted to survive. So, using all your strength– you dragged yourself to the bottom of the storm shelter. You found the safest corner– next to some old piping to curl up. 

The whole time the storm raged on above you– you couldn’t stop screaming. So, you squeezed your eyes shut and pressed your forehead against your knees, making yourself as small as possible. And then, with everything you had left, you wound your arms around the piping and held on like your life depended on it… because it did. 

…

Your name sounded so distant when you heard someone calling it– like it was miles away. Then, vaguely, it came more into focus as it was called again. 

The third time, it was right next to you– and it was familiar… but you didn’t dare to look up. What if the storm was still raging outside? What if it took you next? 

Hands gripped your shoulders– causing you to jolt awake. 

Your eyes shot open as you pulled yourself from your nightmare. Tyler was sitting on the edge of your bed, his mouth hung open, like he was out of breath. 

“Tyler?” you croaked, attempting to sit up from the mattress. 

“You’re okay,” he said instantly. “You’re okay– you’re safe.”

Once you had managed to sit up, you studied Tyler’s face for a moment, trying desperately to gauge if any of this was real. Despite the darkness around you, you could still make out every feature– every crease, every freckle, every single piece of stubble that made up his shaved beard. And as much as you’d admired Tyler’s face in the last few years, even you knew that you couldn’t have been that detailed in your imagination.   

You wanted to ask what the hell he was doing there– how he had gotten in her room, when all of a sudden, the same memories that had plagued you in your dream resurfaced in your mind.

The sight of the EF4 tornado that destroyed every inch of your childhood home. The image of your sister’s terrified face– right before she was ripped from your grasp. The sound of her scream, dissipating with the raging winds. 

“Easy, sweetheart,” Tyler soothed. 

You turned to face him– Tyler was here because he’d let you share his room… because he was way kinder than you ever gave him credit for. And now he was here– witnessing you completely falling apart.

Tyler’s lips began moving– he was talking. But despite the vague comfort from his tone of voice, you couldn’t really make out what he was saying. It was like the winds were still raging around you– muffling everything. 

You felt like your heart might just beat out of your chest– maybe that was the tornado working to rip it from your skin. 

“Hey–” a voice… no, not a voice. Tyler’s voice, said. “You gotta breathe.”

What was he talking about? You were breathing– of course you were breathing. Unless... unless the tornado ripped out your lungs instead of your heart. And now that you thought about it, no, actually, you weren’t breathing. You tried to inhale in, but the air wouldn’t come. You gasped, chest tightening while you began to tremble. 

Your lungs weren’t in your chest– your lungs flew away– just like your sister.

Firm, rough hands cupped both of your cheeks, forcing you to look forward. You were met by Tyler’s green eyes, currently blown open and wide with worry. 

“Breathe, baby,” he instructed. “With me– look.”

Baby, you thought. That was a new one. You didn’t hate it nearly as much as you hated sweetheart. 

You watched desperately as Tyler inhaled and exhaled exaggeratedly, like he was hoping you’d follow along.  

You tried. Really, you did.

Your wide, desperate eyes met his. But instead of following along, all you could do was imagine what your sister’s body had looked like after being struck by debris and tossed halfway across town–

“With me,” Tyler repeated firmly, his thumb stroking across the surface of your cheek gently. You leaned into his touch, craving comfort. 

Tyler continued producing loud and deliberate, slow and calming breaths. After a few seconds, you latched onto the sound, mimicking it, and following along the best that you could. 

Your shoulders relaxed slightly when you realized that you could actually breathe– which meant that EF5 hadn’t actually ripped them out of your chest. 

Tyler’s brushed a loose strand of hair from your face. “There you go,” he whispered.

“Did I wake you up?” you asked quietly, feeling even guiltier than you had for snapping at him all night. 

He hesitated– like he was actually debating on lying to you or not. 

“Was I screaming?” 

“I mean, a little bit–”

You nodded before letting your gaze fall to your lap, where you began picking harshly at an old hangnail, a feeble attempt to distract yourself. 

“Do you–” Tyler began. “Do you have those nightmares often?”

Now it was your turn to contemplate lying. But then you remembered what an absolute jerk you’d been to Tyler all night, and figured you at least owed him the truth. 

“Yeah,” you said. “That’s partially why I wanted to sleep in the truck.”

Tyler smiled softly. “And here I was thinking it was because you hated me so much.”

“I’m sorry–” you began, voice shaking slightly. “I know I can be a jerk.”

One of Tyler’s eyebrows shot up like he was surprised. 

“What?” you asked. 

“No it’s just… that’s the first time I’ve ever heard you apologize.”

“What can I say?” you mumbled, trying to make light of things. “You seem to always see the worst versions of myself.” 

Tyler’s gaze softened, like he knew you were talking about more than your lack of apologies. After a moment he sighed. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Glancing up, you hesitated. Your heart had just stopped pounding in your chest, but the thought of talking about what had happened in your home just a few short years ago made it speed up again.  

“You don’t have to–” Tyler said quickly. 

“No– it’s just…” your voice faltered. “I just haven’t really talked about it.” 

Tyler was patient. He stayed still on the edge of your bed and waited for you to be ready. After you sorted through some of the thoughts in your head you whispered, “You know I’ve been chasing in Oklahoma since I was a teenager?”

Tyler’s face lit up in surprise. 

“It’s true. I took a few years off… and when I came back, I was upset to see Oklahoma had a new storm chaser. One that everyone seemed to like more than me,” you admitted. You weren’t sure why this was all flowing out so freely, but even you had to admit that it felt nice to be honest. “That’s why I’ve been so mean to you, I think. It felt like you were encroaching on my turf. And then you showed up with your fancy truck– and all your gear, and I suppose I just felt a little jealous.” 

Tyler nodded in understanding. “Why’d you take a few years off?”

Your voice caught in your throat. Only when you hung your head did you feel confident enough to answer. “Remember that EF5 that hit Logan County a few years back?”

Tyler nodded. 

“My family’s farm was in Logan County. My parents were away– on a weekend trip to Colorado to see family. But I’d convinced my sister to stay home with me, because I didn’t want to go,” the words that were your mouth suddenly didn’t feel like yours. And the trembling hands in your lap didn’t feel like yours either. 

“The storm turned last minute. We barely had any warning. But I grabbed my sister– and we ran to the storm shelter. We made it, too– but then the door ripped open. When she went to shut it…” your voice trailed off. “Well you can use your imagination for the rest.”

You finally gathered up enough courage to glance up at Tyler. His eyes were fixated on you– sadness and sympathy plastered all over his face. “I’m so sorry,” he said genuinely. 

“Yeah, well…” you said weakly. “The worst part is– I think I remember locking the storm shelter door– but I wonder every single day of my life if I accidentally forgot. Which… I mean, convincing her to stay home already makes it partially my fault. But I can write that one off– and remind myself I didn’t know what was going to happen. But forgetting to lock the storm shelter?” you sighed. “That would be a harder one to forgive myself for.”

Tyler scooted closer towards you on the bed. He raised his hand– he was reaching out to comfort you. But then he pulled back, like he thought better. You were surprised by how disappointed that made you. 

“It’s not your fault–” Tyler assured you. 

It was the same thing your parents had said your whole life– so why couldn’t you believe it? 

“I guess it doesn't really matter whose fault it was,” you said. “She’s gone and I’m not. I took a few years off from chasing because I just couldn’t… I couldn’t get myself in the right headspace for it. Every time I saw a cell forming, I’d panic– and I’d want to run from it, not chase it. Things are better now… but every once and a while, I still run. Like today,” you admitted. “I knew the winds changed. I knew the one to the east was gonna die out. That’s why I chose it.” 

Tyler sighed. “And then I gave you shit for it,” he said, remorse in his tone. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too,” you admitted. “And I’m really grateful you let me crash in your room. I think if I’d been screamin’ like that in my car, it would’ve caused quite the scene.”

Tyler’s lips tugged into a gentle smile. “I told you I didn’t mind sharing when it came to you. Plus, I learned more about you during our little sleepover than I have in the last few years chasin’ next to you.” 

“Yeah, well…” you mumbled. “Don’t get used to it.”

Tyler smirked. “Does that mean you’re going to go back to hating me tomorrow, when we’re no longer roommates? Or have I finally cracked through that tough ole shell of yours?”

“You keep offerin’ me motel rooms for free and I’ll be an open book,” you laughed. 

Tyler nodded, like he was storing that offer for later. 

“Hey, I don’t know about you,” he said, suddenly clapping his thighs before standing up. “But all that screaming got me wide awake. You hungry? I’m buying.”

He held out his hand– waiting for you to take it. 

“Are you offering me a room and dinner in one night?” you teased. 

“And all you had to do was reveal your deepest, darkest secrets and traumas to me,” Tyler smirked. 

“Tyler Owens, you’re too easy,” you said, gladly taking his outstretched hand.

[urinejaeger]

like hear me out,, pro hero! bakugou gets in an argument with his wife and then gets so angry where he says: "if i hadn't married you i would be a top hero by now." 👀

A/N: you little angelic genius you, i hope you’re okay with a happy ending ♡ Sorry this took like two years, I didn’t know ANYBODY sent me anything in the years I’ve lurked!!

c/w: angst to fluff, established relationship, toxic relationship, mean bakugo, implied fem!reader, bakugo gets mildly violent, let me know if i missed something!

“…If I Hadn’t Married You!”

bakugo x fem!reader

You let out a sigh of relief. Wiping your hands on your apron, you stepped back to admire the work you had created on the dining room table. The table, which never occupied more than two chairs, was decorated with a spectacular dinner.

You had spent hours slow cooking, stirring, baking and chopping to make a large dinner for your Husband of an early year and a half. Though it’s very early into your forever, Bakugo had never shown any sign of regret in his decision to marry you. It took everybody by surprise, the way Bakugo had been sheepishly protective of you since you’d yelled at him for the first time when you’ve had enough of his teasing.

Your appreciation for bakugo was simple. He did nothing but come home and immediately cradle into your arms, slumping down and nestling into your neck when he was particularly tired and vulnerable - a side only you were familiar with. He would breath out slowly, feeling your fingernails softly drag along his scalp and make him feel drunk. But those moments would be brief, as your husband was quick to feel victim to his affectionate emotions and soon stand to do household chores that weren’t completed - even though he had been working all day, still covered in grime and resin from his explosions.

But just as his explosions save people, they also harm. And all it took was one glance at an old picture book from middle school. He had been helping you with your chores one day when he came across a yearbook from his middle school years.

One side of Katsuki’s lips curled up into a smirk as he was ready to relive all of his younger self’s dreams. His rough, calloused finger turn the front page. He flipped, his smirk growing smaller and smaller when a realization came to him.

He had abandoned his younger self. Baby Bakugo’s dreams. Baby Bakugo’s determination to be the number one. His smile completely wiped, Bakugo felt his teeth grit when he saw Deku. A shy boy, lingering in the back with a gentle smile on his face, no need for recognition.

That’s what began Bakugo’s emotional downfall. For as far as he’s come, he was certainly backtracking and the person who noticed it was none other than his darling wife.

Your little scribble next to his picture, Don’t miss me too much, Katsu kitty, made Bakugo close his eyes. He couldn’t believe he had done this to himself. So for days, he worked to improve himself. Even if that meant leaving her behind for a while to focus on succeeding in his career.

That’s why when Bakugo came in, and saw a grand gesture, he couldn’t help but grimace at the sight. You knew everything about him. From what he liked, his tips for plate presentation, to the already-clean kitchen paired with hot food. You had learned to clean as you cook. It angered him.

He stared at the dining room table, eyes bored and unamused. That’s when he heard the patter of feet against the hardwood, a girl barring in while tying the back of a nice cocktail dress. She grinned brightly at her husband when she saw him walk in, the faint marks left behind from his mask still on his face.

“Honey,” you giggled and walked to him, licking your thumb and reaching for his cheek. You were shocked to see him grab your wrist and dodge your hand. You pulled back a bit, confused as Bakugo just brushed past you. “Katsuki?” You picked up her feet to catch up with him, a hand touching his bicep to get his attention. Katsuki was quick to pull away.

“Fuck, WHAT?” He snapped, causing you to flinch and step back. A sour look was immediately on your face. Of course, he thought. She always stood her ground.

“Excuse me?” You matched his tone, arms raising and being thrown down in disbelief. She couldn’t believe he was acting this way.

“You! You’re fucking-“ Katsuki stopped for a second. He couldn’t look at her without seeing his failures. He just scoffed and motioned with his hand like he was shooing her off as he walked towards their shared bedroom.

“No! Don’t you walk off,” Your feet picked up the pace as you ran to confront him. You couldn’t believe he was acting so crude. Well, you could.

Fights between you and Bakugo weren’t irregular. But they never started without reason. Maybe he rolled his eyes at you suggesting a date night, or maybe he called you ‘woman’ in front of the cashier. But there was never nothing that agitated him without reason when it came to you.

The door immediately slammed in your face, causing a wave of anxiety to pile into your chest. You felt the push of the air as it was only inches from your nose. You didn’t know what to do in that moment. He’s never ever been that way to you. You’ve yelled, but (surprisingly) Bakugo was never physically violent when it came to you being the subject of his upset emotions.

But you knew you couldn’t just walk away now. After staring at the door for a few moments, you tried the handle and were relieved to find that at least he left it unlocked. Twisting the door and stepping inside swiftly, you saw Bakugo changing out of his hero costume, back to you.

“Are you going to tell me what is going on?” You said, mind inching back to the food growing cold on the table. But you refrained first, wanting to calm down your frustrated husband.

“I’m at a fucking stopping point in my life, Y/N,” Bakugo snapped over his shoulder as he slid on his pajama pants. He began to take his shirt off, and Y/N couldn’t believe he was performing normal duties in a situation like this. “You’re fucking EVERYWHERE!”

You scoffed and held your arms up. “Im supposed to be everywhere, I’m your wife, Katsuki!” You yelled at him, offending by his words. He was supposed to love that you’re everywhere. He was supposed to want you everywhere.

“WELL FUCK. My mistake!” He shouted, shirt long forgotten as he finally focused on the conversation- fight between the two of you. “What?” You gasped out in disbelief. “Your mistake?”

“Yeah. My fucking mistake.” He said with gritted teeth, eyes barely glancing to the yearbook. So subtly even you hadn’t noticed it. “I can’t work with you everywhere, breathing down my neck all the time.” You hated when Katsuki was angry. His raspy voice that you loved so much only grew deeper, more devilish. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t intimidate you.

“Why is that such a problem for you?” You said, anger rising to your chest. “If I wasn’t your wife you wouldn’t have someone waiting for you to come home—“ He interrupted, “—Thank GOD! I pray for that every goddamn day!” He shouted at you, yet you kept listing reasons why you were perfect for him. Reasons why he loved you in the first place. But it fell past deaf ears as he continued to argue with you.

“I have a hot meal sitting on the table, that you’re not even acknowledging because you’re—“ Again, he interrupts. “I DIDNT ASK YOU TO FUCKING DO THAT. Don’t ask for a thank you as if this was some sort of favor I made you do! God, just lay off of me,” Bakugo barks at you.

You’d about had it, the frustration causing your eyes to fill with salty tears. “Wow.” You said, mouth pursed into a line that struggled to hide a frown. “I didn’t realize marrying me actually is such a huge burden on your shoulders.” You said, voice barely trembling.

“If I hadn’t married you,” Bakugo leaned close to you, his eyes red and crazed with anger, “I’d be top hero. I’d be where I wanted to be my entire life.” A sick grin came to him. “And then you. You had to go and shake your ass for my attention every day. You knew what this meant to me.”

Your face turned to one of disgust. How could he be this mean to you? “Katsuki..” The tears fell. This wasn’t the man you had married. One tear, then the next down your cheek as you were at a loss for words. He was going through something, you told yourself. But you couldn’t bring yourself to find forgiveness in that moment. Your hand clasped over your trembling lips as you stepped away from his leaning form, watching as the hatred from his eyes started to vanish. He seemed to come to his senses, noticing the real effect of his words.

Bakugo wanted to fight his stubbornness. To pull her back and say he didn’t mean it. But his eyes fell back on the yearbook. Y/N traced his eyes to see his vision. She couldn’t believe this. Her tired, red and wet eyes looked back at Bakugo who looked at a loss for words.

“… If being the number one hero is so important to you,” You said, closing your eyes and turning your head. He swallowed thickly. What had he done? “I’ll accept your plea for me to leave you. I’ll come back early with the papers,” you said, you voice growing high pitched at the end as a sob left your lips.

You turned, heading towards the door when you felt a hand on the hem of the bottom of your dress. You jerked away quickly. “Don’t touch me,” You snarled at his apologetic stare. His soft arch of his eyebrows furrowed and he huffed heavy out of his nose, a clear indication of a pout.

“Y/N,” Bakugo growled and closed the door, louder than the first time, before you could walk out. You squealed and back away from the door, this side of Bakugo frightening you. But he didn’t look scary. No, when you saw his face he looked desperate. “Stop. Don’t do that yet.”

“YET?” You yelled, arms crossing defensively over your chest. “I don’t understand you, Katsuki!”

He leaned back against the door, hand frustratingly running through his hair. “Fuck, I shouldn’t have said that.” He sounded as if he were talking to him. “I shouldn’t— Y/N. Listen.” He said and looked at her in the eyes, all the mania gone and now a regretful and sorrowful look in his eyes. “I don’t know. I don’- FUCK.” He was really frustrated. “I’m not anywhere I need to be,” Bakugo said, fists clenched.

“That’s not my fault,” you whimpered, shame settling in you. But what if it was? He was breaking down in front of you, feeling like a complete failure. “It… It’s… Katsuki,” You mumbled, not even knowing what to say at this point as he buried his face into his hands frustratingly. That’s when you heard it, a slight hiss and a little choked sob.

He never cries. You stood there, watching him without knowing what to do. Where do his feelings actually lie with you, and how do you locate your own? Your head hung slowly. Before long, you felt your own tears start back up. They dropped, your mind replaying the confusing and hurtful words that had left your husband’s mouth only seconds before. Your hands raised, wiping aggressively at your cheeks.

Katsuki’s teeth were practically chattering from the immense amount of regret in his veins. He wanted so badly to reach out and apologize. He hated what he said, though he knew in the moment he meant it.

He looked at her through soaked eyelashes, seeing you basically crippled in distress at the intensity of the argument. You hugged yourself, crying and swaying to comfort yourself. Katsuki let the silence sit for a moment before he cautiously reached forward, taking a finger of yours softly and pulled you to the bed where he sat and pulled you between his legs.

You stood, too mentally beat to fight him at the moment. Everything was falling apart in front of you. “I’m so sorry,” Katsuki whispered, looking at you. Your sniffles halted for a moment. He doesn’t apologize. Your Katsuki doesn’t apologize. He makes you gifts or sends you to Paris, but he doesn’t apologize.

You felt a rough hand with a soft touch on your cheek, but instincts told you to pull away. Your head turned, but it was brought right back with a firmer grip. Katsuki saw you weren’t fighting him hard. He needed you to hear this.

“Baby, look at me. I’m begging you,” Katsuki said, the raspiness in his voice breaking slightly with each plea. “I was wrong. If I hadn’t married you, I wouldn’t be settled,” he started, pulled you a little closer and testing the waters by taking your hands slowly. “If I hadn’t married you, I w-wouldn’t have someone to come home too. You make me food, wash my clothes, and..” Bakugo buried his face into your stomach as you hugged him slowly, arms circling his head in hesitation. You knew what he was trying to say. You’re the only person who can see him in such a vulnerable state.

You knew just how much being the top hero meant to him. It was something you adored since the beginning. But over time, you assumed plans had changed. That he was willing to settle for trying his best with you by his side.

“I need you more than any top pro hero recognition,” he mumbled, finally accepting his true feelings. He knew better. As soon as he found his person, he would be gone. From the moment he picked up his first romance manga, Bakugo was hooked on the idea of finding romance of his own, even though it would stray him away from his dream career. You, on the other hand, heard what you needed. You pushed him back slightly, climbing next to him on the bed and pulling him close to you.

No words have to be exchanged.

If Katsuki hadn’t married you, he would never find a real taste of peace and satisfaction.

If Katsuki hadn’t married you, he would be nothing but a bomb bound to explode as soon as it was ignored.

If Katsuki hadn’t married you, he would be helpless.

This was fun 😬 I’m a new writer on Tumblr and this is a new experience for me! Please follow and send requests so I can begin my masterlist <3

[charliemwrites]

Part 5 of Mister(s) Steal Your Girl

Long awaited, but no Johnny smut just yet. Soon, I promise. (And Kyle will be back. It's been so long since he's gotten to smooch our dear reader.)

Also! A little reminder than you can check the queue to see what I plan to post for next. I try to update it often as the worms wiggle. Next I plan to do the final chapter of Greater Bad. (Unless I get my not-so-secret, no-longer-a-surprise oneshot out first)

Lastly! Please note that I wrote the "posts" from his perspective. So inconsistencies with the actual story and any grammar/spelling errors were purposeful or for "authenticity".

Content: Brandon.

r/CakeEater _OnBrand_ I asked my fiancé for an open relationship before marriage. It worked. A while ago I posted on r/adultery about the affairs (yes, multiple) I was having behind my then-gf’s back. We’d already been dating for ~4 years and I was seeing one of my coworkers (my “work wife”) regularly and one of her coworkers on and off. People on my other post were critical and called me all sorts of things like selfish and pig. I know it’s not traditional, but I genuinely don’t think I could ever be satisfied by one woman. My work wife (Rachel) and fiance’s coworker (Lucy) provide things my fiancé just can’t but I still love my fiancé. She’s the woman I’m going to spend the rest of my life with. When I posted on r/adultery I was trying to figure out how to propose without her finding out. I knew she’d expect me to help with stuff and possibly want to look at my phone more often. It would have been harder to sneak off to meet up with Lucy or Rachel with wedding planning and I was sick of being stressed she would find out. Some nicer people on the post suggested I ask for an open relationship. I took their advice and sat her down to sell the idea. It’s a good thing I’m so good at sales (top 3% in my company for 5 years in a row) because she agreed. Yes, actually agreed. At first she got kind of pale and her eyes got really big and blank. I thought for sure she was about to start crying and run off. Maybe even kick me out. She doesn’t really get angry but she gets upset and it freaks me out. After I explained everything about how good it would be for us though, she agreed. This is my official unlimited hallpass. I’ve been seeing Rachel on weekends and Lucy once or twice during the week for drinks. Tonight I’m going to sign up for every dating site I can. Tinder, Bumble, Hinge. If anyone has other suggestions, I’ll check those out too. Fiance has been kind of off but I think it’s just an adjustment period. Sometimes I can tell she’s been crying but she hasn’t come to me about it so she’s probably just being emotional about all the changes. At least she’s got our house to focus on while she gets used to things. I feel a little bad about running out every night but she’s just so mopey and sad all the time and it’s not enjoyable to be around. I know she probably feels like I’m abandoning her a little but once she starts getting back to normal I’ll spend time with her again. You really can have your cake (all the cakes heh) and eat them too. Edit: no, I never told her that I already had Lucy and Rachel and I’m not going to. What good would it do? She’s already agreed to an open relationship and telling her that I didn’t have permission first would just hurt her for no reason.

Kyle’s been gone for two (long, lonely) weeks when he finally gets a chance to call. So far, he’s only been able to send scattered texts at odd hours. Always something sweet – telling you he’s alright, or that he’s thinking of you. Sometimes you even catch him for a brief exchange before he apologizes and “goes dark” again.

Not that you begrudge it. This is part and parcel of dating him and you knew that going in. You’re not complaining when he’s putting his life on the line so that the public can live in blissful peace.

That doesn’t stop you from missing him though. His hugs, his smile. Getting his voice - even roughened by distance - is a nice compromise though.

“How have you been holding up, chickadee?” he asks after the initial reassurance that he’s whole and hale. 

“Easier this time!” you answer proudly. “I know what to expect with you gone and Johnny’s good company.”

“Yeah?” he asks, sounding pleased.

You can just imagine him now, leaning his hip against the nearest surface, arms crossed over his broad chest. He tends to duck his head when he smiles, and you unintentionally grin to yourself, thinking of him hiding into his phone. God, you miss him. 

“Mhmm! We found a board game bar that you’re going to love. Oh, and we’re going to the Hay Festival this weekend.”

He hums. “I’m sorry I can’t be there to take you, luv, but I knew Johnny would be good to you.”

More than good to you, really. There’s not been a day he doesn’t call to check up on you - if he doesn’t see you in person, that is. Dinner, movies, coffee. He’s somehow both a gentleman and an incorrigible flirt, but only with you. He’s nothing more than polite to anyone else, keeping his focus on you and whatever the two of you are doing.

You don’t know what to do with the undivided attention. If you didn’t know better…

“You two are getting close,” Kyle observes.

“I think so,” you admit, then hesitate. “Is… that okay?”

“‘Course, luv. I’m glad.”

You blink. “You are?”

“He’s my best mate and you’re my best girl.”

An odd pang of anxiety pierces your chest. Johnny calls you that too. His “best girl.” You love hearing it - but maybe you shouldn’t?

“It… doesn’t bother you? That we’re spending so much time together.”

He snorts softly, but it’s not derisive. It’s a noise he makes whenever he thinks you’re being silly, but his voice comes out soft and warm. Not an ounce of condescension.

“No, baby, I’m not fussed. You spend your time with whoever you want, however you want. Yeah?”

Your chest floods with warmth. “Okay.”

“There’s a love. I’ve got a brief, so I have to go. I’ll call soon as I can.”

“Be safe, Ky.”

“Do my best. Give Soap a smooch for us, aye?”

You blink as he hangs up. That’s a new one.

You ponder over it while packing on Thursday night. Was it just a joke? A tease at the little crush you’ve developed for Johnny?

Because it is a crush, you know it is. It’s impossible not to be attracted to him. Not with that smile, that laugh, the goofy humor and sweet mannerisms. He still sends you flowers every few weeks - just as the previous ones are about to die. It’s so thoughtful; you’ve started feeling a bit warm every time you look at them.

But you feel greedy, being even remotely interested in anyone else. You have Kyle and Brandon (even if you two are going through a… patch) and that should be enough for you. Shouldn’t it? You’ve never been with more than one person at a time before; it took you weeks to shake the compulsory guilt when you first met Kyle. It feels almost unforgivably audacious to want Johnny too, especially since he’s Kyle’s best mate.

Still… Kyle’s not a jealous or passive-aggressive guy. You’ve been with him long enough now that you know he’d just tell you outright if he was unhappy about something. And he’s been with you long enough that he can surely tell you’re more than a bit fond of Johnny.

Maybe that’s why he made the joke about “smooching” him.

Regardless, you want to talk to him about it. Things always make sense when you think out loud to him. His levelheaded and practical approach to difficult topics always straightens your panic spirals out into neat lines.

Plus, it’s not as comforting to hold your own hand. (God, when is he getting back?)

“Where are you going?”

You blink up at Brandon, folded pajamas in hand.

“The Hay Festival,” you answer.

Speaking of - you slip past him into the bathroom. He doesn’t follow, rooted to the spot spinning his phone around in his hands.

“Alone?”

You snort. “Of course not, I’m going with a friend.”

The allergy pills are at the bottom of the medicine basket beneath the sink. You really need to organize it the next time Johnny’s too busy to hang out. There’s no way you need three bottles of paracetamol. 

“I need that suitcase.”

You toss the bottle in and pivot for the dresser. “What for?”

He shifts, eyes sliding away. “An… overnight.”

Ah. That’s what he’s calling it now?

You snatch a few (too many) pairs of underwear from the dresser.

“Just bring them here,” you say over your shoulder.

There’s a long, tense beat of silence but you’re too busy rummaging for socks to break it first. Will it be too warm for thigh-highs? Eh, you’ll go with the sheer ones; the little lace roses match one of your dresses anyway.

“Bring who here?” Brandon asks slowly.

When you turn, he looks paler than usual. You shrug, trying to project casual comfort.

This is a totally normal and reasonable conversation to have. Just a couple in an open relationship, discussing a stranger coming to the house for a shag. Nothing to make a fuss over.

“Whoever you need the suitcase for? I know you’ve had people over before anyway, and I’ll be gone all weekend.”

He stutters, color returning to his face in bright pink blooms. “Why do you think I’ve had people over before?”

You arch an eyebrow. “I do the laundry, remember? And there was lipstick on one of the wine glasses.”

That had sent you into a tizzy at the time, disgusted that some stranger was in your bed, with your fiancé. You washed the sheets twice on the hottest setting and tossed in a bit of bleach for good measure. Hadn’t been able to look at him the whole week - not that he was there much to not look at.

Now, though, you seem to have adjusted to the idea, even if you’re still not thrilled. Brandon can have his… whoever over, and you’ll goof around with Johnny in Wales.

“Just toss the bedding in the wash afterwards,” you add.

“I thought you do the laundry,” he sniffs.

“I’m not traveling all day just to do chores when I get home,” you answer. He does a double take like you’ve started speaking a new language. “You’ll be here all weekend, I’m sure you’ll have time.”

He opens his mouth, and you can tell already that he’s about to argue - though you don’t really know what about. It’s not like he can’t do laundry or dishes, after all. He lived alone before you moved in together.

Thankfully, his phone distracts him before he can form the words. He spins away to tap at the screen and shuffles out of the room, shoulders till tense. You go back to packing and teasing Johnny about the amount of hair gel he’ll bring.

Friday afternoon can’t come fast enough. Even though you’ve taken a half day from work, the few hours seem to drag. You’re practically daydreaming about the food and drinks, music and activities. There’s a baker’s dozen art stalls you want to check out as well, and a gift to pick out for Kyle…

“Hope yer thinkin’ o’ me when ye make tha’ face.”

Your head snaps around so fast, you nearly give yourself whiplash. Johnny grins down at you in all his casually handsome glory – ripped jeans, green tee, and brown boots. Angels are singing somewhere, you think. Or maybe that’s just your nosy coworkers ogling from their own cubicles.

The reality of him sinks in a moment later and you leap up from your cushy chair – and right into his arms. He’s like a furnace compared to the cool, conditioned air of your office, a welcome source of warmth for your chilly fingers.

“What are you doing here?” you giggle. “Who let a rowdy guy like you in?”

He smells like bergamot and pine. It takes active thought to resist pressing your face into the crook of his neck. It looks cozy there.

As always, he squeezes you a bit tighter just before letting go.

“Hey now, Marcy’s a discerning lady. She knows a fine gentleman when she sees one.”

You snort, belied by the smile curling your lips. “She may need new glass then.”

“Och, don’t go talkin’ poor about my second-best gal now.”

“Is it that easy to get in your good graces?” you scoff, glancing at the time on your computer. It’s later than you expected; no wonder he came up to retrieve you. You spent so long daydreaming that you’ve lost track of time.

“Aw don’ be green, dove, you’re still my number one. Send ye flowers ‘n all.”

You roll your eyes at him. “Yeah, and now I’m wondering just how special that is.”

He stands close, proclaiming his case for how obviously special you are while you shut everything down for the weekend. You’re only half listening to the bit, admittedly. Mostly just basking in your excitement for the mini road trip and the weekend to come. You have no doubt that it’s going to be fun, even if it would be better with Kyle along too.

“Where are you headed off to?” Lucy asks.

“Hay Festival,” you answer shortly.

You’ve never been a big fan of Lucy, but lately she’s been insufferable. Talking over you during meetings, leaving you out of emails, throwing away papers at the printer. (Okay, you haven’t seen her do that last one, but you know.) Worst of all, she can help but make backhanded comments about every flower delivery.

“You’re not taking Brandon?” she simpers. “Something wrong?”

“He’s hanging out with a friend this weekend too,” you correct, “and he doesn’t like hay.”

“Shame that,” Johnny adds, sounding like it’s not a shame at all.

You haven’t told him much about Brandon – but you’re sure that Kyle has. From the face Johnny makes the rare times your fiancé comes up in conversation, he doesn’t think much of Brandon.

“Have fun you two!” your manager, Selene, calls.

You wave and shoot Lucy one last, unimpressed glance before stepping onto the elevator with Johnny.

r/CakeEater _OnBrand_ My fiancé is going on a weekend getaway with another man. I’ve posted in r/adultery and r/cakeeater before. I’m not looking for judgement or insults here. I really just want advice.

A little context: my fiancé and I are in an open relationship and it’s been like this for a few months now. I originally asked her to ope the relationship and for a while she was weird about it but lately she’s been getting sbetter. I thought she was finally getting used to me going out with other women and things were getting back to normal.

A few weeks ago, I noticed she was on her phone more. Like, all the time. Even at dinner when she used to be really picky about phones at the table. One day I came home from work and she was talking on the phone to someone. Giggling and laughing. When I turned the corner she was kind of blushing too. It kind of bothered me but I figured she was talking to a friend and just hot from cooking or something.

Lucy texted me pissed off one day, asking why I was sending my fiancé flowers but not her. I told her I hadn’t sent any flowers. I think they’re way too expensive for how long they realistically last and that they take up a lot of unnecessary space. But I thought it was weird that someone was sending my fiancé flowers and got kind of uncomfortable. That’s a pretty romantic gesture and her family isn’t the type to randomly send flowers either.

I tried taking her out on a date but she was all mopey again and turned her phone to ‘do not disturb’ so I wouldn’t even see if she was texting someone. We don’t have much to talk about now. I love her but she’s not a good storyteller or into very interesting things. All her ‘funny stories’ are just mundane things that happen during the day. We’ve run out of interesting topics about because we’ve been together so long. (That’s why I like having more than one partner.)

Yesterday she randomly started packing for a trip. I don’t even think she was planning to tell me until I asked her. She was packing a bunch of cute clothes too. Like dresses and tights and things like that. Stuff she only used to wear on our dates. I asked who she was going with and she just said ‘a friend’ which is weird because she would usually say the name of someone even if I don’t remember who they are.

Well today Lucy sent me a picture of my fiancé leaving her job with some guy. I couldn’t see his face because he was turned away, but I could see the side of my fiancé’s face and she was smiling at him. I got this awful sinking feeling in my chest like it was hard to breathe. It took me a few minutes to process that she’s going away for a weekend with a complete stranger.

Doesn’t she know how dangerous that is? Where did she even meet this guy? They’ll be gone all weekend so are they sharing a room? A bed? I nearly threw up thinking all these things as I called her.

I asked her to cancel her plans and come home. She seemed confused and reminded me that her plans were with someone else and it would be rude to ditch last minute. I told her I wanted to spend the weekend with her and that I’d been missing her. She seemed surprised and said that she’d see me on Sunday night, but she was looking forward to the festival with her ‘friend’ and wanted to go. As a last ditch effort I asked if her friend was more important than me, nearly begging at that point. She must have heard the desperation in my voice, but she just told me that she was already on the road and it was too late.

My fiancé doesn’t like lying but it’s hard to believe this guy was just a friend. Even if she sees him as a friend I know how men think and I doubt he sees her the same way.

She said some other weird stuff before she left about having someone over while she was gone. I don’t get it. How could she just casually invite someone else into our house like that? Has she had other people over? Is she dating now?

I’m not sure what to do. I don’t like that she put this trip over me. Should I talk to her about how bad this makes me feel? Should I call again and tell her to come home more forcefully? Am I blowing all of this out of proportion?

Edit: she doesn’t know that I’ve been seeing Lucy. I haven’t told my fiancé about any of the women I’ve been seeing. (mostly just Lucy and Rachel. I’ve done a lot of texting through apps and gone on a bunch of first place, but most women don’t put out right away and I usually can’t be bothered to get to know them better). Even then, I wouldn’t tell her about lucy. They don’t get along and never have. It would cause a lot of unnecessary drama.

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[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Yandere Fantasy Villain

Imagine you’ve been transported to a DnD-Fantasy-like world. Quests, adventurers, and mystical beasts are everything you could dream of. You’ve already established your little troupe; becoming an important cornerstone of the group. Whatever your class, you’re excelling at they really rely on which is why things go badly when you meet him—-the recurring villain of this world.

“Oh my–oh my Zoth.”

“What? Do I horrify the little hero!?”

“No, you’re–”

“Worse than you imagined?”

“No, you’re–”

“(Y/n) stop freezing up!”

“You’re the most beautiful creature I’ve ever met!”

The group is horrified as they plan a tactical retreat, finding it easier to thwart the Fantasy Villain’s attacks which are suddenly less frequent.  The group just assumes you’ve been enchanted because since you’ve locked eyes with him you’ve been unable to stand on your feet. Wide-eyed and breathing heavy you just can’t stop the heat climbing over your face and ears as you replay the moment you met over and over. 

“You realize he’s a part of the ugliest most horrible race known to all of Azarothan.”

“If that’s ugly then I’m dead!”

“M-maybe he did enchant them?”

Meanwhile, the Villain’s returned to home base, shedding his armor and dismissing his entourage. Sat on his throne he replays the words you’ve said to him…over and over….and over again. His ears are turning a deep blue and he can’t help the involuntary reaction of the volcano attached to his castle bubbling with excitement.

“They-they think I’m beautiful?!”

He’s reeling with an overflow of energy and unknown vigor when he recalls your awestruck face as you fell to your knees clutching your enchanted tool. He can’t stop the thought of you in that same position but in a different setting. Cursing his lacking imagination he concocts his usual magic to spy on the troupe with his crystal ball but this time he’s focused solely on you. 

“Surely they’ll brag about the enchantment they left on me…..and maybe talk about their own infatuation again.”

It strokes a different kind of pride when he hears you deny being cursed. The feelings are mutual. He’s over the moon all four of them. You have to understand the Fantasy Villain has never been told something so flattering. 

“From another world….figures. This world could never make such…a perfect soul.”

Since their upbringing, they’ve been met with nothing but scorn and hatred. Vowing to rule and change the world that did that to him. If others did express interest it was because he had power or was literally about to kill them. Your reaction, your unadulterated feelings for him, the tug at his soul is the only sign he needs before his objective changes. 

“I wanted to rule the world so I could change the world for me. But now I’m going to change the world so I can rule with them.”

He means it. The troops are given new orders, the deadly nightmarish beasts are given new tasks, and he’s already concocting a million different plans to attain you. He watches the crystal ball relentlessly trying to hear and see as much as he can to learn more about you. He realizes very quickly that he really hates those adventurers of yours.

“C’mon (Y/n)! Just because you’re attracted to the enemy doesn’t mean he isn’t trying to destroy the world!”

“Yeah (Y/n), you’ve got to get your head in the game. We need you!”

“I–your right…sorry guys…I just don’t think I’ve ever seen someone who fits my preferences so perfectly.”

“You don’t even know him!”

“But one look in his galaxy-like eyes and it felt like I did.”

He really hates them. Listening to them talk you out of your feelings for him. Before you arrived they were minor pests. Simply a small roadblock that he would eventually crush to shatter the hopes of the people when they needed them most. Now they were just obstacles in the way of his goal–you.

“Sire those adventurers you told us to keep an eye on are on the move. Should I give the order to attack?”

“No…summon the siren I’d like to take a different approach.”

He gets incredibly crafty, despite only meeting you once he can tell you aren’t heartless like he. He’s certain should you find him to be responsible for the death of anyone you’ve met you’d reject his love. So he’ll make it his plan to slowly break your little troupe, such spunky and erratic individuals may be just the only tool he needs.

“My orders, My Ruler?”

“Join their group. Do what you like with whoever you wish. 

“?”

“Bring discord how you see fit.”

“Yes, My Ruler!”

His plan is perfect and the group isn’t nearly suspicious enough to reject his double agent. Who’s presence triggers the cracks that this group had always had. When the group splits apart needing to cool off you’re left alone, a perfect chance for a moment with you. 

“Hello, little hero.”

“Whoa, what are you doing here? My troupe’s not too far! A-a-a-nd I–I’m willing to fight this time!”

“That’s a shame because I came to speak to you.”

“Really! Ahem, I mean about what?”

“About those words, you said to me….I wonder did you know what they’ve ignited.”

Taking advantage of your easily lowered guard, he speaks the truth. Coming in close enough to feel the heat escaping from your armor, he’ll share the tale of his past. Which as he predicted makes you so sympathetic and just as willing to sing his praises as the moment you met. 

“But you’re not ugly or horrid like they all say.”

“No?”

“I think you’re beyond handsome. One of the most ethereal beings I’ve ever met.”

“Do you truly think so?”

“I know so… I’m just sorry no one else has told you that.”

“I’m happy it was you.”

When you let him dive in for a kiss, naturally you accept it. Returning his vigor in kind if not with sympathy or just your attraction, you miss how he places a magical mark on your neck. Or how he casually enchants your armor to protect you better. Or how he influences the flora and fauna of the forest to curve in the direction you came from essentially blocking the path back to your camp. When he reluctantly releases you he further promises he’s never letting you leave his grasp. Promising to one day have you on the throne beside him.

“I must return and so must you. Your friends will worry.”

“Oh…you’re right.”

“Don’t sound so sad, we’ll meet again.”

“Not just in my dreams.”

“Not just in your dreams.”

He leaves not only giddy with love but with a new plan in mind. He prepared to be faced with a struggle, to have to fight for your affection as the enemy you’d be fighting. But he wasn’t prepared for your heart to be swayed so easily. Licking your remnants on his lips, he knows that you can be deceived, and conveniently so can the rest of the world.

Fantasy Villain devises that if the history of his race’s banishment and exile were portrayed in a certain light. You could defect to his side without guilt and if some of the more stubborn adventurers were to also agree that’d make things so much easier. Pretending to be persuaded to sign some peace treaty after being gifted enough land to rule over with you beside him didn’t sound too bad.

Even if that didn’t work the Fantasy Villain has decided you will rule beside him whether he has to trick, drug, or force you to be his. Though he adores the honest love in your eyes when he looks at you and he’s going to do whatever he needs to have it. 

[bioblsm]

WHAT DOES THEIR CAMERA ROLL LOOK LIKE?

❀ ꒰warnings꒱. boothill backstory spoilers, not proofread ಥ_ಥ

𖧷 characters. jing yuan, blade, dr ratio, ruan mei, aventurine, sunday, boothill

☆彡 notes. aventurine 🤝 boothill — being some of the most gay ass mfs i’ve seen in a hyv game (apart from bronya and seele) seriously their flamboyance still gives me whiplash…anyways this has been on my mind for months now but i’ve never gotten around to writing it!!! >_<

JING YUAN 𐚁 景元

[◉"] 2,304 photos, 83 videos

⌖ if you scroll really fast down or up his gallery, all you’ll actually manage to see is splotches of pink, blonde and silver

⌖ everything ranges from cute candid shots of yanqing (he takes multiple if yanqing’s fallen asleep while on duty), to sneaky pictures of fu xuan as she’s working where he’s in the foreground doing peace signs — the final picture of course being her looking at the camera lense directly to glare up at him

⌖ reaching weekends when he’s slightly a little more free or allows himself a small break to stroll around town, his camera roll is either filled with pictures of food he’s eaten or swords that yanqing may or not definitely ask about that he’s now more inclined to buy as he’s seen them in person (he’s a boy dad who loves spoiling his child, alright?)

⌖ the large majority of his photos unfortunately are work related, only really the recent ones being deleted from his gallery to clear up some space

⌖ however, while his photos are preoccupied with either his two kids or random scrolls with messy and rushed handwriting, each video is of you; jing yuan thinks a picture would belittle your beauty too much.

⌖ he needs something a little more real, a little more active and animated to help him quell the chirping loneliness that creeps up on his heart whenever you’re away from him for a prolonged period of time; if he’s feeling particularly mischievous he might sneak a quick but blurry picture of himself to send to you ♡

BLADE 𐚁 刃

[◉"] 9 photos, 2 videos

⌖shit is BARREN. literally a complete EMPTY VOID. if you snatched his phone somehow you’d assume he just got it despite him not having changed it ever since he received one

⌖ perhaps on the occasion you’ll find a cameo picture from one of the stellaron hunters as his phone is left unoccupied and someone decided to blast his entire gallery with their face (silverwolf specifically just hacks into his phone to keep putting random screenshots he’s never taken in his gallery to make him believe he’s taken them)

⌖ maybe sometimes he’ll screenshot different ways to die or health clinic locations he can avoid when he’s fortunately bleeding out but otherwise? nothing.

⌖ if you’re a massive yapper and love sending him pictures, he won’t go out of his way to download them for later usage (whatever that may be…) but he also won’t go out of his way to delete it if it’s accidentally automatically downloaded on his phone — maybe elios intended for it to be there?

⌖ it’s quite nice having a reminder of his significant other where he doesn’t have to actively listen to their voice… that’s a little exaggerative; but he loves just mapping out the features in your face, it helps him sleep just the slightest bit better with no ailment if he’s able to trace your features like a constellation on his blank, dark wall

DR RATIO 𐚁 真理医生

[◉"] 1000 photos, 100 videos

⌖ call it a form of ocd, but he NEEDS to have a decent ratio (i didn’t even mean for this to be a pun i’m so sorry) of his photos to videos; he doesn’t care if it’s 10:1, 2:1 1:5, he needs something that’s at least somewhat pleasing to the eyes

⌖ ratio immediately deleted anything he doesn’t need or thinks he won’t find use in for at the very least the month (this includes every single cameo shot aventurine or you have taken of yourselves on his phone without his permission, which by the way, he didn’t hesitate to scold you two for)

⌖ maybe if he’s feeling particularly loving (when is he ever?) he’ll allow ONE picture to stay.

⌖ his camera roll is purely filled with test results, written exams, student emails he needs to read over, things concerning the guild or the ipc and secret purchases of ducks he’s made (he’s not ashamed, he just doesn’t want you to know he’s buying ducks that are bigger in size every time so he can fill your shared bathroom)

⌖ realistically, maintaining such a perfect ratio of photos:videos is rather impossible unless you’ve got impeccable timing with things you save and delete so, in order to bypass this, ratio made a photo library to help serve as a base number of sorts

⌖ that photo library is of course a secret and locked haven filled with pictures and videos of you, none of which you can even recall taking. all of them hold at least some sort of significance to the both of you, but the ones that dr ratio loves the most is the ones that are just natural

⌖ the ones that show you being yourself, whether it’s where you’re cuddled up near a blanket reading something with a leg hiked up over the sheets or where you’re sleeping with your mouth wide open because you’re sick and unable to breathe through your nose properly; he loves it all

RUAN MEI 𐚁 阮•梅

[◉"] 505 photos, 28 videos

⌖ she tries to keep it as neat as possible; that means no sneaky pics taken of her by you, accidental blurry shots she’s taken (god forbid, those ones are immediately scrapped and done anew especially if related to an experiment of hers) thought that doesn’t mean she clears it in the regular

⌖ ruan mei actively saves any photo you send her, sometimes she’ll even screenshot the chat itself if she finds herself clutching at her heart as she swoons over a few lines of flirting that apparently you couldn’t hold yourself back from due to how much you missed her

⌖ she’s not someone really sentimental so despite having photos of her little cake-cat hybrids, she rarely ever rechecks them unless the trailblazer sent another report on their status to match

⌖ honestly her memory is impeccable to the point she doesn’t even need screenshot reminders of things like dates and experiments saved (would it even be called machine reductionist to call her a walking computer model at this point?) therefore, anything she saves that’s work or science related probably has more intricacies that she can account for

⌖ her gallery is a little boring otherwise. for someone of her morally grey standards you’d expect at least something worth mentioning, maybe even something dumb like a secret recipe she uses to make the sweetest (anti-truth serum…) pastries but no— nothing.

yet the reason for that is very blatant; not even her beloved has the privilege to witness her mendacity.

AVENTURINE 𐚁 砂金

[◉"] 8,793 photos, 777 videos

⌖ it’s a complete and utter mess to say the very least; dr ratio refuses to so much as glance at it whenever he’s near and topaz just gets an ick:

“how do you even manage to find anything?”

“luck.”

⌖ his photos range from absurd, to sweet to egotistical. things that remind him of you such as random rocks he finds, alcoholic beverages that have the same colour scheme of an outfit you wore the night before, an animal he saw that he swears if reincarnation was real would so be you

⌖ he has a specific library for just solely screenshots based off your chats, most of them including a significant amount of “i love yous” and goodbyes that promised a little something more when you met up next; everything that aventurine utterly cherished and craved

⌖ …and then the rest was either him showing the background of him photobombing others, pictures he took to send to you (or one of the ipc members to piss them off, sometimes even the trailblazer for a cheeky laugh) and on the even more popular occasion, all his extraordinary wins whether it be in poker, pool or uno

⌖ compared to his photos, his videos are slightly more interesting. a near 50/50 split that ranged between him telling dumbass jokes to piss off his coworkers, recordings of the back of dr ratio’s and or topaz’s head just for the future laughs (he likes the reminder that he does actually have friends and they aren’t just deliberate hallucinations born of loneliness).

⌖ but of course, all his “favourited” videos involve you somehow. sometimes it’s just a slip of your name while he’s sneakily recording a meeting, him telling you he misses you or vice versa, other times it’s just when he feels like he has a home. you snuggled up on his chest, hands intertwined together as your breathing nearly synchronises with him…moments where he feels as though he could forget the trademark imprinted onto his neck.

SUNDAY 𐚁 星期日

[◉"] 777 photos, 111 videos

⌖ now as much as i want to say “oh it’s all you! he has a special folder for you <3” i unfortunately can’t.

⌖ it’s almost most definitely videos of robin’s concerts, solo shows, videos he stolen off of audience members with good seats when he wasn’t available to personally hide in the crowd…a lot of the photos are also the same way; robin’s promotional pictures, screenshots from her recent advertisements and negative hate comments or news stories that he’s going to personally deal with later

⌖ that doesn’t mean he values or priorities you over his sister, absolutely not. you two are the only people in his life who he would unironically take down the skies and survive utter torment for if it meant your voices were the last things he heard as bellowing winds sliced past his eardrums to tune the world out in order to hear his own final breath

⌖ he tries his best not to be sentimental or nostalgic, as he’s been told as he grew up into the bright and maybe just slightly tragic and guilt-infested man he is today, those things in his eyes are an innate weakness of humanity. clinging onto something thats not tangible anymore.

⌖ but he can’t help but hold on to every video you send him. every picture of you smiling, laughing, every text of you saying i love yous, quoting love songs to him or showing him pictures where you jokingly said “that’s us” (did he tilt his head a few times when you kept sending animals to him with that particular correspondent message? perhaps, but it never made him blind to the intentions).

BOOTHILL 𐚁 波提欧

[◉"] 12,113 photos, 191 videos

⌖ he truly doesn’t gaf (give a fork) about how messy it is, all the things that are genuinely important are already locked and loaded into his noggin’, there’s no point in being frugal with the space he’s been given on a little cellular device

⌖ you wouldn’t believe it, but he rarely uses it unless it’s for emergencies. there’s plenty of trouble that comes around when you’re a galaxy ranger, which means having a constant tracking device on you like a phone that you update daily is a stupidly bad idea; which is precisely why his photo gallery is a mess

⌖ he quite literally can’t go in and clear it out otherwise it risks giving out sensitive information.

⌖ not applicable to you, that is. in boothill’s eyes, you’re an “emergency”. if you’ve texted him, it’s obvious you want his attention, which potentially means you could be in danger and he has to rush to the rescue like the flamboyant cowboy he is (no he absolutely knows you don’t need help, but there’s always that nagging “what if” factor, you know?)

⌖ he inwardly blesses whoever invented screenshotting because it would be an understatement to say that little as half of his gallery is littered with you. he’s just a bit of a boomer when it comes to technology like this, despite being a whole walking charging port himself ehem, so a lot of the pictures he has saved of you that you sent over whenever he cutely pleaded;

“missing ya, send me a lil’ somethin’ wont you?”

unfortunately are uncropped and framed with the outline of whatever messaging app you’re on.

⌖ if he lets you scroll up far back enough, maybe you’ll get to see just a glimpse of how similar his adoptive daughter’s smile was to his

© BIOBLSM ✮ do not copy steal or repost

[peachesofteal]

Simple Math / Part Fifteen

Simple Math masterlist

Ghost/Soap/female reader AO3 - 4.7k words Tags: 18+ mdni, nurse!reader, hospital setting, domesticity, feelings of anxiety, self doubt, anxiety about sex. PTSD. Tiny bit of a panic attack. Tiny smidge of Simon's past if you know where to look. Comfort. Cockwarming. Barebacking, anal fingering, masturbation, praise kink, daddy kink. Basically the guys fuck while Bunny watches.

You’ve been having dreams about the hospital.

It’s always the same one.

You’re running a code with an intern and a fleet of baby nurses. No one is moving as fast as you are, no one is following direction. You’re on fast forward, they’re on rewind.

Every time, the dream starts and ends the same way. For some reason, you can’t see the patient’s face. You work on them for what feels like hours, and then only once it’s been called does the mental block disappear, you look down-

To see yourself.

Intubated. Bruised and broken.

Dead.

“Bunny.”

“Hmm?” You glance up across the counter, feeling the focus of Simon’s eyes before you see them.

“Everything alright?” Pen babbles ‘moremoremoremore’ while making the sign at the same time.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” He mimics Penny’s sign, and then gives her a yes, spooning more yogurt into her mouth.

“You’ve been standing in the same spot for the last ten minutes, staring into your coffee.”

“Oh, yeah. Sorry… I’m just a little… scatterbrained this morning.”

“Still having that dream?” It’s been a week and a half since it started, and a few days since you finally confided in Simon and Johnny it was bothering you. “Do you think it might be related to going back to work this week?” You shrug.

“Maybe? I don’t know… I’ve never dreamed of working on… myself.” His jaw flexes, and then he sighs.

“I’ve been thinking…” Penny squawks, demanding the attention of the room, and you pull some blueberries from the counter and put them on her plate. “My therapist is taking new patients. I don’t want to push you before you’re ready, but I’d like you to consider it.” The grimace slides onto your face without preamble. Sure, you’ve considered therapy in the past, but it’s a risk. Mandated reporting, paper trails, everything you don’t need.

“I don’t need therapy right now.”

“You have PTSD.” He says point blank, and you blink. Your mind fractures, little pieces twisting and turning, trying to knit together a larger picture.

“No- I- I’m not… it’s…” You’re a medical professional, don’t you know what PTSD looks like?

“It’s hard to see, in yourself.” Simon senses the confusion and tries to soothe it away, cool balm on a burn.

You suppose he’s not wrong. It’s not unrealistic, you having PTSD, but you’ve never been confronted with it. Never been forced to face the truth.

No one’s ever known you well enough, to see.

It stings. It stings for some reason, and you don’t know why.

“I’m sorry.” He stands, moving around the counter to stand in front of you. “I want to help you, bun, but I should have approached that differently.” You shake your head, relenting into the steady hand at your back, and tip your face into his chest. The confrontation of the truth aches, but there’s comfort in Simon’s touch, understanding, and you relent to it, drifting away inside his tender hold.

“What’s goin’ on?” Johnny’s close, appearing in the kitchen after sleeping in. He was deep in his own dreams when you woke up, sweet like angel in the clouds, buried in the pillows, and you couldn’t stand to wake him.

Simon rumbles something over your head. You can’t make it out, ear covered by his bicep, and you turn your head to peek, reaching for Johnny.

“Hey, pretty girl.”

“Hi.”

“Why don’t ye come lay down wit’ me on the couch?” He coos, stroking a hand over your hair. “’m not quite awake yet.” Simon gives you a squeeze, and you nod.

“Yeah, okay.”

Johnny holds you close. His nose in your neck, fingertips carefully tracing over your skin, heat at your back, he calms you, comforts you, lulls your stiff muscles languid. He’s so good at it, pulling and kneading until you settle, and it dawns on you he’s had practice.

“Would you tell me about you and Simon?”

“What do ye want to know?”

“What was it like… in the beginning. When you got together.” He kneads your hip, thoughtful for a quiet moment, and then takes a deep breath.

“He was difficult. Didnae wan’ to let me in, no matter how hard I tried. Had to corner him in his room on base just to get him to kiss me.” Johnny chuckles low, rubbing your shoulder. “Took him forever, to break down, let me see him, really see him, for the first time. I had glimpses, here and there. Moments in the field, on base, at the bar with the team when we’d decompress but… it took a lot of work. He tried to push me off, hide away.”

“Why?

“It’s his story to tell ye, bunny. An’ he will, in time.” He sighs. “He’s always been like this, strong, steadfast, more serious than me, but he buried a lot of things, deep. Always was very aware of it, jus’ not willing to show it to anyone else. Wanted to be a ghost.”

“But… he’s okay."

“He’s okay. Has some moments where he gets lost, still, but works through ‘em, wit’ me or on his own.” He kisses your neck, soft enough to tickle, and you shiver. “He’s really good at this, bein’ a da, takin’ care of a family. Treats us all like his little unit. I miss him too much when ‘m away. Pen too.”

“I’m sure.” His lips graze your shoulder, humming.

“An’ ye. When I go back, I’ll be thinkin’ of ye all the time.” When he goes back. The idea is chilling, a douse of cold water. It’s felt so far away, the idea of Johnny returning to his job, the thing that brought you to him in the first place.

“But that won’t be for a while, right? I mean, you’re still healing.”

“It won’t be for a while.” He assures, though there’s something in his voice, pinched and pained. You don’t ask, don’t push, choosing to close your eyes instead, nestled in his arms, safe.

“This is the worst.” You’re whining. You know you’re whining, know you sound like a child, but it spills out of you without stopping.

“I know sweetheart.” Simon screws the cap onto a travel mug, giving you a sympathetic smile. They’re both up with you, before the sun, listening to you moan.

You shouldn’t be going to work at this hour. You should be awake, puttering around, working your rhythm back to normal, getting oriented to working at night.

You’ve never hated your manager more. She insisted she was sorry, that she had no choice but to fill the overnight shift. She assumed, she said, the new nurse would want to go to days when you got back, but she’s taken a liking to it.

She’s taken your shift.

“Maybe it won’t be so bad? An’ ye’ll see me tomorrow when I come in for therapy.” That is an upside at least, knowing you’ll be able to see him, see them both, at work.

But the rest of it, simply put, sucks.

“We should probably get going.” Simon kisses Johnny goodbye, and you’re drawn to them, sidling up in their orbit. Johnny wraps an arm around you, mouth to your temple.

“Have a good first day back, bunny. I’ll be thinking of ye.” You turn, grazing your lips on his, and he seals the kiss, drenching it in care, sweetness.

“Bye.”

Simon walks you all the way to the door.

Your resistance at the initial idea slowly fades as the sun peeks over the city. It’s different with Simon at your side, the paranoia and rampant fear infecting the atmosphere wherever you go is farther away.

You trust him. You’re starting to believe they may be able to keep you safe.

He holds your hand for most of the trip.

It’s… nice. Once you make it to the door, he turns and tucks his fingers under your chin, holding your gaze like a magnet. “Call me if you need anything.”

“I will.” He presses his lips to your forehead, and you lean into it, eyes closed.

“Have a good day, bunny.”

Work is absolute hell.

Dayshift is so different from nights, and you have trouble adjusting. The turnover rate at the hospital is fairly high, so when you badge in and get started, you hardly recognize anyone.

Except, Marshall.

He’s standing outside the pit when you round the corner, devilish grin aimed at one of the nurses you don’t recognize. New probably. Sheep in a lion’s den.

You clear your throat. His head snaps up.

“Well, well, well… looks who back from vacation.”

“Marshall.” You greet, barely looking at him, tapping through your tablet. “I wasn’t on vacation. I was out on medical leave. Big difference.”

“Right.” He takes you in from head to toe. “Rotator cuff, huh?”

“Mhmm.”

“Surgical?”

“No.” The other nurse watches you with interest, before scurrying away when a bell chimes. “Still having inappropriate relationships all over the hospital, I see.” He raises an eyebrow.

“You’re one to talk.” Ice cracks across your forced smile. He smirks. “Heard you’ve got yourself two boyfriends.” You suck your teeth. Nia.

“Considering he’s no longer my patient, it’s hardly inappropriate.” With the best timing, his phone rings, pulling his focus, and you slip away.

Fucking asshole.

Simon opens the front door for you and is careful not slam it closed.

“Penny asleep?”

“Johnny’s trying now. We’ll see if he has any luck. She’s been fightin’ it.” The kitchen smells like garlicky lemon, and you peek over his shoulder to see a large saucepan filled with linguini, capers, and shrimp. Your mouth waters.

“That smells amazing.” He takes your bag from you and hangs in on a hook from the hall tree.

“Scampi. We remembered you said it was one of your favorites, and we thought we’d spoil you a little bit. Celebrate your first day back.” Your cheeks burn hot, and to your horror, tears build up through your nose to your eyes. His brows crinkle together. “Hey, what is it?”

“That’s just… it’s really nice. You don’t have to.” Someone celebrating something with you, for you, is alien. The memories of the beginning of your relationship with Phillip are long gone, twisted and gnarled into black rot. It’s how he charmed you, wooed you, brought you closer and closer until they all but faded and you were left with only the darkness. The vice grip of his hands. His satisfied, sickening smile every time you closed your eyes.

“It’s not a ‘have to’ thing, sweetheart. We want to.” He skates his fingers over yours, pulling them to his mouth. “I know it’s hard to get used to.” You’re a little bewildered by it, the care, the consideration, even the memory of something you mentioned off hand.

“I… thank you.” He kisses your temple.

“Go shower. You smell like a hospital.”

“This was so good. Thank you again.” Your hands are woven together under your chin, rich wine sauce still present on the back of your tongue.

“Aye, thank ye.” Johnny winks at Simon, who rolls his eyes.

“Here, let me-“

“I got it.”

“No, you cooked.” You protest with a pout as they both rise.

“Johnny, sit.”

“Can wash dishes, ye know. I’m not helpless.” A sliver of twilight passes over Simon’s expression, not quite darkness but still full of a looming shadow until he sighs, relenting.

“Alright.” Your lips purse.

“What about me?”

“Ye jus’ sit on the couch and look pretty, bun. Willnae take us more than a few minutes.”

‘Just sitting on the couch’ lasts for all of five minutes before you’re antsy, rolling to your feet and padding into the kitchen.

You stop dead at the corner of the counter.

They’re making out. More than making out, Simon is swallowing Johnny’s whines with big breaths, his hand down the front of his pants. You buzz, thighs pressing together without permission, spine tingling heat awakening in your blood with zeal.

“Ah, shite-“

“Shhh. Be good.” Simon admonishes, but smiles into the kiss, wrist working a rhythm in Johnny’s sweatpants. He pulls away, chin tilted, looking down his nose with an eyebrow raised, almost condescendingly, but still grinning. “Feel good? Just need some relief?” Johnny’s moan is strangled in his throat, and you’re about to turn the corner in the shame, mortified you’re essentially spying on them, when Simon looks at you like he knows you’ve been there the whole time. “Like what you see, sweetheart?” You whimper. It slips out, unbidden, and Johnny turns, forehead pressed to Simon’s cheek. His hips are trying to jerk into the grip that has slowed, and he groans.

“Si.”

“Relax.” Simon stills him, pulling his hand free. “Maybe bunny wants to play too.” You give them a nervous smile, butterflies building in your stomach. You’re scared, there’s no other emotion to describe it. There’s fear, bad memories, anxiety building in the back of your throat, but at the same time, desire pushes you forward. You trust them, and it’s reached a critical point. You want to try.

“I… maybe if we s-started slow… I’m not sure…”

“That’s okay.” Simon coaxes, wrapping an arm around Johnny’s waist, hand splayed possessively on his stomach. “Let’s go upstairs.”

Their bed is an enchanted place.

There’s love in it, beguiling affection that transfers to you, dots down your throat to your chest, your clavicle, ass pressed into the hardened swell of Johnny’s cock.

It’s enough to strike down your fear, pry you open, lecherous want infiltrating your mind, your soul.

Their dynamic is crystal clear. Simon is natural in his mastery of both Johnny and you, the leader, the maestro. His forbearance at slowly peeling you free, layer by layer, puts you at ease, calms you enough you let him take your pants off, leaving you in only your underwear and the t shirt you put on before dinner. He folds you up against Johnny, careful to mind his sore spots, the pieces still healing, lips finding the plush fold at your ribcage.

“Sweet little bunny.” He glides careful fingertips over your panties. “Can I touch you here?” You draw a deep breath.

“Yeah.” Johnny’s lips graze your neck, and he sweep up over your belly towards your nipples, under your shirt.

“An’ can I touch ye here?”

“Mm- mhmm.” You buck into them, sensation building between your legs, lust cascading to where Simon’s fingers slip into your underwear and down the seam of your pussy.

“You’re wet, sweetheart. Is this for us?” You nod, Johnny tickling circles across your breasts, playing back and forth, pinching and stroking gently.

They’re both taking it slow, cautious, and there’s one half of you wanting to rip into them, and vice versa, while the other half is terrified. So far, the reckless abandon side is winning, but when Simon grazes over your clit, the crest of your fear bottoms out in the pit of your stomach. Johnny flexes his hips, the weight of his cock between the curve of your ass, and the combination of it, the touch now overwhelming, stream of thoughts turning panicked and unstoppable like a bolder rolling down hill, steals your breath.

In the wrong way.

“S-stop.” You freeze, immobilized, muscles turned from molten lava to stone, eyes wide, lungs rasping. Simon immediately creates distance, while Johnny jerks backward, palm steady on your shoulder, but separated otherwise.

“Ye’re alright, bunny.”

“Take a breath.” Simon coaches, maintaining eye contact, and you nod shakily, anchoring yourself to Johnny’s tender hold. You manage a breath, not so far gone you’re spiraling, and it’s deep, without a hitch or a studder. “That’s great. You’ve got it.”

“I’m sorry.” You whisper, disappointed. You’ve let yourself down, let them down-

“There’s nothing to be sorry for.” He murmurs, understanding and slow. “We’re done. There’s no rush.”

“No!” You blurt. He raises an eyebrow. “Sorry, I just… I don’t want it to end I’m just not sure I can… do it.” His head tilts, surprise contained with a slow smile, and Johnny hums.

“Do ye wantae watch, pretty girl?” You nod shyly.

“Is that… is that okay?”

“It’s more than okay.” Simon rasps, stroking your cheek. “Sit up against the headboard.”

The two of them move into position seamlessly, sweat and breath thick in the air, a wet fog blanketed around you. A bottle of lube discarded on the mattress, a pillow under Johnny’s hip to cushion him. He’s settled on his side, arranged carefully to avoid pressure on his injuries, and they both face you.

Simon kisses his neck, sucking urgent marks into his skin before he palms Johnny's ass, hard and then slips between his cheeks. You’re unable to see his hand, but when Johnny’s eyes go wide and he groans hoarsely, your clit throbs.

“There you go.”

“Simon.” He whines, high pitched and needy.

“Bloody tight, Johnny. Been so long since I’ve taken care of you, huh?”

“A- fuck, aye.” He presses backwards into Simon, and pants. The scene makes you drool, the eagerness on Johnny’s face, the slow movements of Simon at his back, his lips against Johnny’s cheek, neck, murmuring gently. You’re nearly shivering, ache screaming between your legs, and instinct takes over as your slip your hand inside your underwear. You’re slick, so wet it dampens your curls, and your fingertips slide over your clit, zaps of electricity echoing through your nerve endings.

Simon looks up at you through heavy lids, mouth obscured by Johnny’s shoulder. “Are you touching yourself sweetheart?” You nod, not trusting yourself to speak, afraid it will come out a garbled mess. “You want to come when I fill our boy up?”

“Y-yeah.”

“Keep going.’ He orders, and then shifts, pressing his cock to Johnny’s entrance. Johnny moans, and your own hips jerk.

Simon pushes slowly, focused on Johnny’s face, cataloging every expression. “Y’alright?” Johnny nods, lip tucked into his teeth. “Christ. You’re strangling me.” He thrusts sharply, sealing his hips to the soft curves in front of him, and Johnny cries out in a high-pitched wail, eyes slamming shut. He fumbles with his cock, squeezing at the root, but Simon pulls him away. “Not yet, sweet boy. Need you to last for us.” You’re trapped in a shockwave that hasn’t quite reached shore yet, tension building with each swipe over your sensitive bud.

“Bunny…” Johnny rasps, and your apprehensions wane.

“Does it feel good?” you whine, and he nods, groaning. Simon builds his thrusts into an unrelenting pace and cups Johnny’s belly, stroking down, pushing against the strain of muscle there, Johnny’s eyes rolling into the back of head. You wonder if Simon can feel it, the pressure, the bulge of his hard cock, shoving deeper and deeper.

“Daddy-“ Johnny shrieks, and Simon’s mouth curls into a satisfied smirk.

“That’s right, good boy. Fuck… perfect little hole f’me. All mine.” He practically growls it, and you writhe, flicking down your pussy and back up, breathing hitching in a frantic pace. Johnny’s delirious, hands scrambling across the sheets, half reaching for you, half reaching for nothing. “Isn’t he perfect, bunny?”

“Ah- yeah.” Your tongue is numb, body burning. Sweat slicks down the middle of your back, and you ride your hand violently.

“Please.” He’s begging, frenzied, fingers twisting, and Simon reaches for his cock, wrapping his fist around his length. It doesn’t take long until Johnny’s back bows, and your toes curl. You hiss. They move together wildly now, a push pull in a frenetic dance, and your eyes slip closed, sinking into the slick sounds of Simon fucking Johnny open, Johnny moaning, whispers passed back and forth. Simon cups his jaw, tilting his face towards you, and they both watch, drifting from your eyes down to where you’re trying to make yourself come, clit swollen and throbbing.

“She’s such a good girl, isn’t she? Touchin’ herself, watching you take my cock.”

“Pretty girl.” Johnny slurs through his gasps, body shaking with the power of Simon’s thrusts. He’s close, judging by the fevered look on his face, little gasps and whines tumbling from his mouth. Simon squeezes him, thick thumb rubbing over his slit.

“Come, bunny. Be good for daddy.” Simon coaches, and you tighten, cosmic explosion streaking behind your closed lids, the same time Simon grits out something under his breath, jaw tight, tugging relentlessly on Johnny’s cock until he’s crying out too, cum splattering up his belly and chest, Simon milking every last drop from his cock as he lazily strokes inside him.

Immediately, you gasp. Shocked at yourself, but not scared. Not nervous just… emboldened.

They both read it on you, and Johnny’s head lolls with a satisfied, lazy smile. Simon pulls free, rubbing Johnny’s hip sweetly, ducking into the bathroom to get a towel. He cleans him up carefully, gently, and Johnny’ reaches for your hand. You don’t turn away.

And when Simon urges you to tuck in between them for sleep, you do. More than willingly.

“He looks good.” Hot tea wafts from the cup in front of your nose. You’re on break, somewhat, watching Johnny work through his last few minutes of physical therapy, his face broken out in satisfied smile. His biceps flex. “Really good.”

“He’s been workin’ out at home, a bit. In the garage.”

“He shouldn’t be pushing it.”

“I know.” Simon squeezes your good shoulder. “He’s okay, bun. He’s strong. A bit too stubborn for his own good sometimes, but strong.”

“Dada.” Penny smacks an open palm against Simon’s chest, and he covers it with his own, bouncing her slightly.

“Look, Pen. Is that your Da in there? Is that him?” The therapist smiles at Johnny and pats him on the back, rubs his shoulder down to his elbow with wandering fingers. She’s pretty, and fit, tight ass, tiny hips. A sliver of self-doubt, self-consciousness pokes at you, and then jealousy nearly turns you green. Simon cocks his head with a laugh. “Easy, bun. She’s just doing her job, you know.”

“What? I know that. I’m fine.” You immediately blurt, and it does nothing for your cause.

“It’s cute. That you’re jealous.”

“I’m not,” you roll your eyes, “whatever.” He chuckles, and then starts to pass Penny to you.

“Can you hold her while I help him get his stuff together?”

“Sure, c’mere girlfriend.” You tuck her up into your chest, playing with her hair as she curls into you. “Sleepy huh? It’s past your nap time. I bet Dada keeps you up for an early bedtime tonight.” She coos. Her fingers tighten in the collar of your shirt.

And then a freight train rams itself in the deepest parts of your heart.

You lean against the wall to keep your balance.

This is not your baby, but she feels like yours. Her weight is familiar now. Her routines. Her signs and sounds.

It’s easy to close your eyes and imagine she’s yours.

It’s been days since you touched yourself in bed as Johnny and Simon had sex, and the scene, the desire, is burrowing itself in your brain.

You want more.

You want more so badly you wind up touching yourself in the shower, fingers stroking your clit until you're muffling a moan in your elbow when you come.

It doesn’t soothe the ache. You’re not sure what will.

So, when you’re done, and find them relaxing in bed, Johnny in boxers, an idea abruptly runs through your head.

Could you?

Your fingers twiddle with the hem of your shirt.

“Hi.”

“Hi?” Simon raises an eyebrow. Johnny stops his sketching to smile.

“I um. I wanted to… see… or ask for something.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing! Nothing, I just… I was wondering if I could… sit on you.”

“Sit on us?” Simon’s brow furrows, but Johnny’s face lights up.

“Like, ye wannae sit on one of us?” He emphasizes the word sit, and Simon murmurs.

“Ah.”

“I just… I really want to… I want to move on.” The words take you by surprise. “I want to feel like a human again, like how I used to feel. Before I was like this. I think…”

“Taking back control of your body will bring you closer to healing.” Johnny looks at Simon, and there’s desperate sadness in their eyes. Their hands intertwine, gripping onto each other so hard it looks like it hurts.

The moment passes, gone like it was never there in the first place. Johnny turns back to you.

“Ye’ll have to sit on me, pretty girl.”

“But... your hip.”

“I can take it.” You nod. Not that you prefer one to the other, but you’re curious.

“Is there a reason why…”

“I’m too big, bunny. Especially if it’s been a while for you. We’ll need to ease you into it.” Johnny smirks, and you hide an excited shiver.

“Okay.”

You stretch yourself out with your own fingers at first, the process made easier by your orgasm in the shower, all the while both Simon and Johnny encourage you, coo at you, praise you.

You stay present. Focused.

“Take it slow,” Simon coaches when you straddle Johnny’s hips, “don’t rush it. Just take your time.” Hands on his shoulders, Simon reaches for his cock, sliding it through your lips, brushing your clit before angling it at your entrance. You take a deep breath.

“Okay.”

The first inch makes you whine. Johnny’s fingertips draw circles up and down your spine, his lips in your ear. “Good job, pretty girl. Just like that. Nice and easy.” Your eyes slip closed, and you take more, sliding down his cock, the burn of the stretch smarting tears in your eyes. Simon wipes them away.

“Our brave girl. You’re doing so well. Feel okay so far?”  

“Y-yeah.”

“Ye alright? Does it hurt?”

“A little.” You wince, taking another inch, glancing down. Your equilibrium pitches.

“Look at me.” Johnny redirects, head tilted back on a pile of pillows. “Jus’ look at me, bunny. You’re safe. I’ve got ye.” His hands guide your hips, keeping your pace even and slow, careful. Even when the anxiety invades your control, he steadies you. “It’s us, just us. We’re here, bunny. You’re okay.” The ache, the open sore spot spilling sticky, blackened tar, seals up. It's zippered shut, away from you, packed tight for another day. Another moment. The only thing you need to focus on is here, and now. With them. Johnny's jaw clenches. “Christ Si. She’s really tight.”

“I know.” He pushes some of Johnny’s hair from his forehead. “You’re both being so good. I’m proud of you.” The praise, the warmth from the both of him, glows in your heart. You’ve never felt so safe, so cherished, in your life. Again and again, they surprise you, teaching you how things you used to dread or shy away from can be enjoyed, valued.

This is how it should be. Love without fear. Intimacy without fear.

You’re fully split open on Johnny, stuffed full. It’s tender, calm in the low light of the bedroom, almost cozy. His thighs blaze under your ass, and the heat creeps like lava to your fingers and toes, turning you boneless, languid in his arms. Simon leans in to kiss your temple.

“How do you feel?”

“R-really full.”

“Are you in pain?”

“No just… stretched, I think?” You wiggle a little bit, and Johnny finally breaks eye contact, looking up at the ceiling with a groan.

“Try to be still bunny. We just want to get you used to the feeling. This isn’t about sex.” Simon's last comment earns Johnny a warning glance, and he nods, straightening.

“Right. Even though your perfect little pussy is drivin’ me mad-“

“Johnny.” Simon chides. “Bunny, can you lean forward for me?” His hand presses to the middle of the back, guiding you to rest your cheek on Johnny’s shoulder. “Good girl.”

The room lapses into silence that lasts, rhythm of your chest rising and falling syncing with Johnny’s, Simon humming, working a hand up and down your spine.

Up and down. Up and down.

You think you could do it now. Roll your hips and rise on your knees, sink back down to feel the pressure, the bludgeoning tip of Johnny’s long cock nestled at your cervix. You’re not sure, not confident, but somewhere in your dreams, you picture yourself milking him dry, riding his cock until you’re shattering.

“Si.” Johnny’s voice pitches to something you’ve never heard, low and heavily accented. “Will ye read?” Pages of a book flutter. You hadn’t realized your eyes had closed, but as Simon’s voice picks up a page with no pretense, you don’t fight it, allowing yourself to drift between them, cradled on Johnny’s body with a piece of him pulsing inside you.

It’s bliss. It’s love. You’re…. happy.

[rosielovesf1]

spilling secrets on stream | LN4

what better place to hard launch a relationship than twitch?

word count: 1.3k

warnings: none!

author's note: it's been so fun thinking up little story ideas and this is the product of one of them. fair warning that it's been forever since i've played fortnite so probably not very accurate when it comes to that 🤦‍♀️ thank youuu for reading and have a great day!!

also my requests are open if you would like to see a certain story/driver!! 🫶

“Hi guys, sorry I’m late,” Lando said, adjusting his headphones as he started the stream. There were a surprising number of people online for this Thursday afternoon, but he had posted on his story that Max would be joining him, so that could explain the popularity. Not that he would ever tell him that. 

“Max is joining now.” He stretched his arms over his head, smirking when the chat quickly noticed the sliver of skin he’d exposed in the simple motion. Oops. “Is Max with you right now? No, chat, I’m in Monaco. How’s offseason? It’s good. I’ve been doing a whole lot of nothing.” 

Lando read through and answered a couple more questions until Max’s face popped up on his screen. 

“Hello hello,” Max said, waving to the camera. “How are we, chat? What are we playing?” 

After a couple minutes of debate, they decided on Fortnite. The first round was short lived- Lando got shot pretty much immediately. Now, him and Max were two of ten players remaining, but the sound of the front door opening caused him to turn his focus away from the game. 

“y/n?” Lando called out after muting himself, turning away from the screen to see if his girlfriend had just arrived home. 

“Bro, what are you doing?” Max protested, his character running circles around Lando’s still one. Two other characters spotted them over a nearby hill and started firing immediately, with Max left alone to defend them. “You muppet!” Within seconds, Lando had died, and Max didn’t have enough time to resuscitate him in the midst of defending himself. 

“My bad.” Lando turned back to the screen, laughing at Max’s distress. 

“That was entirely your fault.” Max responded, pausing to look at his phone alert from Lando. 

I think y/n just got back and she doesn’t know I’m on stream. Can you stay on until I get back? 

Even though Lando and his girlfriend were practically living together at this point, staying at each other’s homes almost every night during the offseason, they were yet to make it official in the eyes of the public. Max knew this better than everyone- often having to cover for the couple when they weren’t cautious enough- and smirked as he typed back a yes. Lando took that as a sign to communicate his exit. “Be right back, chat. Don’t be too mean to Max while I’m gone.” 

He opened and shut the door to the room behind him, padding down the soft carpet runner of the hallway. “y/n?” Her bright pink trainers were by the front door, and seeing as he could hear the shower down the hall, she must’ve just come back from a run. 

All of a sudden, music started blasting- a Doja Cat song, Lando knew from y/n's time on the aux whenever they were in the car together. 

“y/n,” Lando laughed, knocking on the bathroom door, “I’m on stream darling.” It wasn’t that he minded the noise, or that the chat would know very quickly that there was a girl in his house (he wasn’t really the Doja Cat type). If it were up to him, he would’ve posted y/n the day they had made it official, four months ago. But they’d decided to wait a bit and enjoy the privacy. 

No response still. He tried the bathroom door handle but it was locked. She must’ve not known he was coming home, Lando thought cheekily to himself. Otherwise, it would’ve been open. He gave up and retreated back to the room with his setup, shooting a quick text over to y/n that he was home. 

Lando settled back into his chair, turning the camera on. “Alright, chat, I’m back. Sorry to leave you with Max.” 

Max raised an eyebrow at the music that filtered in through Lando’s mic, choosing not to comment on it. The chat wasn’t as sly though, with every other comment questioning the source. 

“Didn’t know Lando was a Doja Cat fan. I’m not.” The ambiguous comment sparked even more questions, and Lando just shook his head jokingly as they started another game. As he died for a third time, Max cursing and threatening to find someone better to play with, the music cut and the distant sound of the shower running stopped. 

“Lando?” y/n called out, freezing as she read over his text in the hallway. Lando’s eyes widened and he quickly muted himself, sliding his headphones off. As he stood up he heard y/n's footsteps nearing the door and managed to shut the camera off just in time. 

Lando pulled open the door and the scent of coconut and hibiscus floated in. y/n looked up at him with wide eyes in sweatpants and a stolen Quadrant t-shirt, her hair still wet from the shower. 

“I’m sorry! I didn’t realize that you were streaming.” She peeked over his shoulder and her eyes widened at the rapidly scrolling chat, the viewers going crazy about the distinctly female voice they’d overheard. Max had given up at pretending to ignore them and had shut off his camera as well, only adding to the viewers assumptions. 

He pulled her into a hug, mumbling “You smell good.” into her hair as a way of greeting. She wrapped her arms around his waist and squeezed tightly, rocking back and forth. 

“Did they hear me?” 

“Yeah.” They shuffled over to the computer together, her almost afraid to read the chat that was still scrolling at a million miles a minute. Lando read out one comment that said “can Lando’s girlfriend fight?” and raised a questioning eyebrow at the girl next to him. 

“Heck yeah. Look at these muscles. Try me.” She bounced back and forth on her heels, hands up in a boxing stance.

Lando laughed at her, locking her in a headlock that she quickly wiggled out of. “Not fair,” she whined. “Caught me by surprise.” 

He pulled her in front of him to straighten out the locks of hair he’d mussed, and kissed her forehead before looking down at her. “What if we told them about us right now?” 

“You think?” She worried her bottom lip between her teeth, and he ran a gentle thumb over it to get her to stop. 

“I think they’re going to love you as much as I do.” She leaned into him at that statement, and he watched her eyes as she seemed to process his statement. 

“Alright,” she still looked hesitant, but brightened up as she opened her mouth to speak again. “I’m already wearing the right shirt and everything.” 

“Quadrants #1 fan.” He smiled, pulling her over to the computer. They split the chair so that both of them could sit, and she draped her legs comfortably over his. He rested one hand on her thigh, using the other to restart the stream. “Ready?” 

She nodded, and all of a sudden they were back online. 

“Hi, chat.” Lando smiled, laughing as the comments started pouring in. “I’ve been meaning to introduce you to someone. This is my girlfriend, y/n.” 

“Hi, everyone,” y/n said, sporting a smile to match her boyfriend’s. “How are you doing?” 

“Finally.” Max let out a sigh, clicking his camera back on. 

“Thanks for covering for us, Max.” The trio sat and talked for a little bit, y/n answering questions for her from the chat that Lando pointed out every once in a while. They eventually turned the game back on, y/n holding her own and often outranking Max and Lando. In the midst of waiting for a new game to load, Lando wrapped an arm around her waist, squeezing her side. 

“I’m so glad I get to show you off now.”

@landonorris: kiss me more 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨

@y/nl/n: cat’s out of the bag 🤭

[misskingshit]

𝘚𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘰𝘶𝘵 summary: where he has an interest in a certain pop singer, and he doesn't try to hide it. note: believe me or not i’ve been listening hip hop since Im like 15 y/o, soooo why not do an M&M’s fic?? Let me know if u want part 2! xoxo

The lyrics of Mr Eminem's new song being mostly about you? That was something you definitely didn't expect.

I get so weak on my knees

Lose all control

Damn, her silhouette

So hot

Fuck bein’ a gentleman

I'm going to fuck her instead

The red carpet at the Grammys has always been a dream for you, you had already won a couple of awards, today... you were excited to be the presenter of one of them.

Best Rap Album.

To say you were excited is an understatement.

You've loved this genre of music since you were a teenager, Tupac, Fifty, Snoop...to name the most classics.

The camera flashes were the only thing you saw, accompanied by many voices that stunned your ears just by hearing your name.

"Y/N! over here!" A reporter called you, without hesitation, you approached.

"Hey how are you?" you asked with a big smile.

"Incredible! How are you? I imagine you're very excited for tonight" he smiles.

"Don't even mention it! I can't wait to call the winner on stage!"

"Do you think Eminem is nominated? He's been on everyone's mouth lately with his latest song..."

Here we go.

"Yeah... well, I'm sure he'll be nominated, I mean, he's fucking Eminem, it would be like a sin if he wasn't, right?" You laughed a little awkwardly.

"What do you think about his last song, about his comments towards you? 50% of people are upset calling Eminem a degenerate..." you didn't let him finish speaking.

"Well...I really like him, I mean, I've always been his fan and it's an honor to be named in one of his songs. Plus I also think that...we all know how he's like, if you don't like his way to be, to think, to speak, the lyrics of his songs, just don't listen to it and that's it, problem solved, I don’t see the point in hating so much on something you can just...ignore" you laugh looking at the camera "Just take things more lightly, not everything is fighting and bad intentions."

You finished your conversation with said reporter and simply headed to your designated seat.

On the other hand, a certain blonde boy was also being attacked with questions regarding his controversial lyrics.

"She's here? Shit, I want to see her," the blonde rapper said, showing a small, very small, smile, turning his head around with the intention of catching some sign of the hot pop singer, you.

"Yes! In fact she will be the one to present the award for best rap album!"

"No shit! Damn man she's here" Em turned around and said to his best friend, Proof.

In a few minutes everyone finished settling into their seats and you both were surprised when you looked at each other, just a few seats away.

You were five seats to the right and three to the back, so you caught him every time he turned his head back a little to look and smile at you.

Until, soon...your moment had arrived, you got up from your seat to head backstage.

By the way, when you walked past the rapper, he didn't try to hide the fact that he couldn't take his eyes off you for even a second.

"And the Grammy goes to..." you created some tension "EMINEN!" You blurted out the name more excited than you should have.

The rapper's reaction might not have been very expressive normally, but he couldn't contain his smile when he knew who would be the one giving to him his award. The rapper and his friends got on stage and it was inevitable that you felt nervous as you watched him walk towards you, with a playful look, as if he knew what he generated in you.

"Congratulations," you whispered when he was close enough to you, taking the grammy as you felt the soft brush of his fingers against yours, he did it on purpose.

You didn't expect him to give you a hug.

"That's all I get?" He whispered back to you, keeping your faces close and your noses touching, his hands on your waist pulling you closer to him as if he didn't want to move away from you.

A great bustle from the public was heard, and it took them both out of the small cloud in which they were.

This was definitely going to stir the waters.

You both walked away, while you greeted and congratulated the rest of his friends (Proof winking at you in the process).

"Wow, shit, this is crazy, thank you so much to everyone who made the production of this album possible, Dr Dre, who always had my back, I will be forever grateful...and my god, damn, thanks to whoever the fuck is that put this beauty in that dress..." he turned to look at you and winked "Y/N Y/L/N ladies and gentlemen, the source of my inspiration for Heat Seeker"

Obviously, you blushed.

The entire audience was applauding, probably already starting to gossip among themselves about the little show between you and Eminem.

Like a gentleman he offered you his hand as he watched you walk down the steps of the stage with great caution. "Thank you," you whispered. “Any time” he smiles at you.

´Til the end of the awards you continued to connect glances from time to time, you also noticed how his friends bothered him every time he turned his head to look at you.

"Hey, Y/N! wait!" listen to yourself behind your back. "Hey," you looked at him softly, "whats up?" He shook his head quickly. "I just wanted to…I mean, normally I wouldn't give a shit, but, I wanted to make sure that the song didn't offend you, it wasn't to upset you…" You interrupted his attempt to apologies "Don't worry, I understand it was just the song, I didn't take it personally, actually, I loved it" you laughed. "You did? I'm glad you're not like the rest and laugh instead of being offended." His attempt to hide his smile failed completely.

It just slips away from him.

Just with you.

A few seconds of silence took over the situation, though it wasn't uncomfortable, your eyes connected and you didn't seem to realize that you had been staring at each other. "Uhm, I was about to go to my hotel," you pointed behind you, "I was gonna change for the afterparty."

"Can I go with you?" He asked you, but before you processed the fact that he wanted to go with you to your hotel, he interrupted your thoughts "I mean, just so then we can go to the party together, if you want" he scratched the back of his neck.

You didn't even need to think about it "Yeah, I would like that" you smiled.

The two of you walked together towards your limo, captured by several cameras, so neither of you doubted that tomorrow you would wake up to a bunch of articles about how Eminem and Y/N left the Grammy's together. But none of you care about it.