#again sorry if it's not coherent but it's been a WEEK. and it's still going.

[i-am-become-a-name]

What's your interpretation of the weird/annoyed look Five gets on his face when Tegan announces that she wants to rejoin the TARDIS at the end of Arc of Infinity? I know it was probably meant to be played for laughs, but it annoys me every time i watch that episode and i'm curious what headcanons people have about it.

My favourite thing I've read about it pointed out that the cybermen specifically used Tegan as a weakness against five, that she's what it took to manipulate him (and through no fault of either of them, Adric's death was part of those consequences.) The novelisation really goes in to the descriptions of the doctor transfixed with the blood running down Tegan's chin from her bitten lip, the building tension as the cybermen get closer and closer to killing her and he's shaking trying to hold himself back from admitting his hearts are so easy to twist, just by threatening his friends. (Does Nyssa ever leave the TARDIS when it's on the spaceship? The cybermen don't even know she exists til they come onboard do they?)

As for why he looks so annoyed? hmmm. Does anyone want someone around that constantly needles them? Really, I think pre Arc of Infinity that even though Tegan had chosen to stay, they still had that power imbalance or even just tension between them that she had not come on board willingly. So five is expecting that to be the continuing, I don't know, continuing manner between them and it hadn't been good. It had its moments (mainly in the audios) but as an arrangement it was not ideal as friends to explore the universe together, all that terrible beauty and awesome monsters.

But it doesn't continue on in that manner - oh they bicker and make faces at each other, sure, but Tegan's conscious decision to step back onto the TARDIS irons out those imbalances, removes that bitterness and the past of her aunt's death. So when he makes that wee face, it's in expectation of the previous status quo. And never let it be said that Tegan's one to do exactly what's expected of her.

Anyway I really hope this makes sense and I may add some more thoughts later but it's 1:50 am Christmas Eve and I couldn't sleep for thinking about this.

----

It's 2am I'm back. I feel like there's also this uneasiness in five about tegan, that mirror that no one likes being held up to themselves. Their similarities but the starkly different ways they express them must be exhausting to five. and here she is back again. To push and prod and challenge and be brashly beautifully glorious. wait. that last bit was the two am shipper coming out. Anyway they draw strength and resolve and anger from each other and Tegan was vital to five, from his first moments till his very last.

[lesbiacnh]

omg i get a little stressed and to cope i end up playing esthetician until 130 am and go to bed feeling worse than before. and like id pluck every leg hair out but haven’t brushed my teeth yet. and after that my skin gets soo bad and im like whattttt why is this uappening.

[theemporium]

please im begging... thigh riding mat barzal smut.... please

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

.

“Shit, baby, I gotta leave soon.”

“No, you don’t,” you mumbled defiantly, your fingers curled in his hair to tug his head back as your lips trace over his pulse point. “You have ages.” 

“I still need to get ready,” Mat murmured, but it was half-hearted at best. His hands were gripping your hips, his body sinking back into the couch as you continued to kiss along his neck. “The boys are gonna give me shit if I’m late again—”

“Tragic,” you retorted, though he could feel your smile pressed against him. 

“Baby,” Mat groaned before he ducked his head down, until his lips found yours again. “You’re a menace.” 

You pulled back, your hands dropping to rest on his chest. “Sorry for wanting to spend some time with my boyfriend after he’s been away for a week,” you grumbled but the smile remained on your face. “I think I need to have a word with the coaching team. It’s not fair that you have morning skate when you just came back from a roadie.” 

Mat raised his brows, amused. “Not fair for who?”

“For your lonely and neglected girlfriend,” you retorted.

Mat snorted. “My poor girl.” 

Your eyes narrowed. “Don’t mock me.”

“Never,” he grinned before he leaned back up to kiss you again. “Need some lovin’?”

“Don’t say it like that,” you muttered but you leaned into the kiss, your nails lightly scratching his chest over the material of his shirt. “Makes me sound needy.” 

“You are needy,” Mat countered, lightly pinching your hip. “And I love it.” 

“Then do something about it,” you retorted, hips rolling down to feel the bulge in his sweatpants. “Mat, baby, please…” 

Mat groaned, gripping your hips to stay still despite every cell in his body wanting to do the opposite. “Baby, I can’t.” 

You huffed, your hands on his chest as you moved to climb off his lap. 

“Hey, hey,” Mat murmured as he pulled you back down, your chests pressed together. “I said I can’t. I didn’t say you couldn’t.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion. “Mat, that doesn’t make any sense—”

“Gonna make you feel good, baby,” he murmured, lifting you up enough so you were shifted off his lap and left straddling one of his legs instead. 

Your cheeks warmed at his insinuation. “Mat—”

“C’mon, I gotta leave soon,” Mat muttered against your lips as his hands squeezed your hips. “Want my pretty girl to ride my thigh before I go.”

Your brain short circuited for a small moment. 

“S’hot, babe,” Mat continued like his suggestion hadn’t completely melted your insides and washed away any coherent thoughts with it. “Pretty sure I remember you said you wanted to try it back at All-Stars—”

“I was drunk,” you defended, but your body flushed at the reminder. “And it wasn’t my fault you had your thighs out like a slut.”

He grinned. “They are all yours, baby, use them as you please.”

Your breath hitched a little. “I don’t know…”

“Shhh, just relax f’me,” Mat whispered, leaning up to kiss you again. 

You sunk into his embrace, letting the whirling thoughts in your mind come to a halting stop as his tongue swiped along your lower lip before deepening the kiss. His hands gave your hips another squeeze before he started guiding, slowly rocking you back and forth until your body was moving on it’s own accord.

“Just like that, baby,” he praised, his forehead pressed against yours as your soft pants brushed along his lips. “That’s my pretty girl. Looking so fucking good riding my thigh like that. You look so gorgeous when you use me, baby.”

Your face flushed, a pathetic whine leaving your lips. “Mat—”

“C’mon, baby,” Mat cooed, his thumbs dipping under the hem of your shirt to swipe along your heated skin. “Give me something to think about during practice.”

.

[fantasylandloser]

Attention pt.2

Warnings: 18+, dry humping, kissing, premature ejaculation (hot, right?), uh sorry?

pt. 1

*******

When Daryl’s patrolling shift is over he’s too tired to go to the bonfire, instead he opts for his cell, knowing that you'd come and find him when you’re done. He falls asleep before you get there, waking up to the sound of you shuffling around.

You’re obviously trying your best not to wake him, but he’s a light sleeper nowadays. Your movements are also clumsy, probably due to the alcohol that was passed around and even though you only drank a little, he knows you’re a lightweight and you’re no longer used to the feeling. 

“Daryl.” You whisper, into the dark. Something you did to avoid startling him when moving around in his space. He grunts, still hazy from drowsiness, but slightly alert in the way you have to be at the end of the world. 

You say nothing else after his acknowledgment, climbing onto the cot with him. You only slept on the same bunk with him the week all the others came to the prison from woodbury. You were not good with strangers and part of you wanted to cling to Daryl for some sort of comfort. You in your drunken state must have been looking for the same thing.

Daryl allows you to climb over him. He can tell there was an attempt to be more on his side but the prison mattress only allowed for so much space because of that you’re directly on top of him. Not that either of you mind. He places an arm over your back trying to get you to stop moving once you finally get comfortable, lets you place a soft kiss over his stubbled jaw before the two of you finally let the exhaustion claim your bodies. 

You wake up before Daryl, but you don’t move in hopes of him getting well deserved rest. He only sleeps twenty minutes longer and it takes you both a while to acknowledge the other out loud, but you enjoy the peaceful moments of breathing in sync and legs intertwined. 

“Last night any fun?”  He asks, voice still thick from sleep. You hum out a yes, your thumb brushing over his bicep as you try to think of any reason to keep him there. You settle for just asking when you don’t find one, knowing how quick he usually is to get up and find something to do. 

“Can we just lay here a little longer?” His hands run up your sides as he sighs a little. 

“Someones gonna come lookin’ for us in a bit.” He doesn’t make any moves to leave though. Enjoying your softness against him, compared to the usual harsh realities of the world. 

“Did you talk to Mark?” He can’t help the resentment in his voice.

You groan at the memory of the conversation. “He saw us kiss.” And even though you’re not looking at his face you can feel that he’s smiling. 

“S’not funny. He was upset. I feel bad.” Daryl rubs his hand over your back to comfort you but he’s still smiling. 

“Thought you said you weren’t with em’” You can practically hear the smugness.

“I wasn’t, I think he just got the wrong idea.” You defend. He hums, knowing you probably gave him the wrong idea..

“What’d you tell him, heartbreaker?” You flush in embarrassment before mumbling your answer that's barely coherent. 

“That m’yours.” He feels your cheek warm against his chest.

“Damn right.” His confirmation only makes you flush deeper.  You try not to smile too much. You fail. He feels it against his chest, before he sees it when you turn your head to look in his direction. 

“Can I kiss you?” The angle of your lips places you so close to his and you can practically already feel it. You ask so softly, like you think he’ll tell you no.

“You better.” You’re both smiling when you press your lips to his, so softly at first that he barely feels it. Until you do it again, harder. You’re damn near devouring him after about two seconds  and he lets you. When you go to release him he pulls you back into him, switching the two of you around on the cot so that he can be on top of you.So that you can’t leave him.

He’s slotted himself in between your legs in the midst of it all, making you stretch them wide. Kissing you once again on your lips before he lets them go long enough for you to breathe air that isn’t his. Kisses you twice more along your neck and you’re so soft. Daryl tries to think of the last time he’d been touched like this, and even before the infection it had been a long time. 

He loses himself to touching you, so quickly he doesn’t even realize it's happening. That is until he feels the almost foreign feeling of pleasure in the pit of his abdomen and he finds himself bucking against you. And it drives him crazy because you’re just in your underwear, those girly panties that pretended not to like. And you’re so soft. Much softer than his fist and he knows you’re strong but you’re so small in his arms, pliant under his lips.

You hear someone moving in the cell next to you and you remember that you need to be quiet, but as you work to silence your moans Daryl’s pants get louder. He’s worked himself to the point that his thrust against you gets sloppy. You try to kiss him to silence him, but he is so damn loud that you blush thinking of who might be hearing him. 

“Shh.” You murmur, but you can’t bring yourself to stop him because he needs this. You need this. You need him close. You need his warmth, You need him.

“Baby,” You start and he groans at the name, his hips stuttering, he swears, pressing more kisses into your mouth. He feels immediate shame at him cumming in his damn pants like a teenager, but he takes one look at you and he knows you couldn't care less. He plans to make it up to you regardless, already kissing down your stomach. 

Rick interrupts that plan with clearing of his throat and his head peaked into Daryl’s curtain, obviously more than pleased with himself. “Daryl, whenever you get done with this, we’ve got that run we’re supposed to go on.” His southern drawl did absolutely nothing to hide the amusement he was feeling. 

“Alright, get out.” Daryl tells Rick grumpily, after the swift reminder of his responsibilities. Rick nods the smile on his face, unmoving. He leaves after telling you good morning, just to fuck with Daryl. Your flustered face gives him even more of a kick and the both of you hear him chuckling outside the curtain as he walks away. 

“I’m sorry. I gotta-” He’s cut off with a kiss. 

“Don’t be sorry.” You smile and you look so sweet that he has to kiss you again and he feels like he’ll never get enough. 

“I’ll make it up to you, yeah?” Another kiss, on his cheek this time.

“You better.” You say, even though you don’t think there’s a thing to make up for.

[so-mordor-itis]

Eye on You

“give peace a chance, let the fear you have fall away, i’ve got my eye on you. say yes to heaven, say yes to me.

if you go, I’ll stay.. you come back, I’ll be right here. like a barge at sea, in the storm I stay clear, cause I’ve got my mind on you”

I told you I'd write a drabble but uhhhhh this ain't no drabble- @unhealthy-leon-brainrot

1998.

Leon loved differently back then. He loved in a way a 21 year old man freshly graduated from college could. He was giddy whenever the person in his interest would smile at him, would give him any time of day. His hands would become clammy, and his heart would race as if he were still a teenager. Sometimes, he truly felt like one at heart. That his soul was trapped in that time period, and it wouldn't ever leave.

It's why when he met you for the first time, and when you smiled at him as if nothing could go wrong, his face burned, and his heart almost burst right then and there. You were a brilliant flame, and he felt like a small candle stick awaiting to be lit.

He asked you out in a sputter of words, hating himself immediately after listening to them tumble. Leon didn't want his nervousness to show. He had been practicing for weeks in front of bathroom mirrors and sometimes in the Officer's Academy shower, hoping nobody overheard him. He wanted it to be perfect because that's what you deserved.

You giggled, and somehow, his heart both fluttered and sank. Your eyes glittered with an emotion that made him slightly hopeful. "You want to take me out on a date?"

"Yeah," he replied, all too quickly. "If you'd like to that is--only if you'd like to." He wished he could stop himself from talking, but he couldn't.

You smiled at him, and dammit there went the last of his coherent thoughts. "You know what? Sure. I don't have anything interesting going on." You laughed again, looking away shyly. "I can't say no when you're looking at me like that."

"Like what?" Leon asked, though he fully knew what you were talking about.

"Like I'm the only thing on your mind," you responded. You were fidgeting with your shirt, and Leon wanted nothing more than to grab your hands and hold them.

You weren't incorrect, either. You were on his mind a frightening amount. This affection for you was a buzz in the back of his mind, a throb in his chest.

You still said yes.

"So it's a date?"

"Yes, it's a date."

He swore he grinned from ear to ear, and he saw you return it.

--

The day he was supposed to pick you up, he never did. You were more worried than disappointed. Leon didn't seem like the type of guy you ask you out, gazing at you as if you created the sky and the stars, and then drop you like a hat. Despite the bitter part of you wanting to think he ditched you, the rational part knew better.

He called you hours later, apologetic and broken. "I'm so sorry. Something... something came up."

"Forget the date," you quickly muttered, surprised at how swift the words left your mouth. "Are you okay?"

He was silent for a bit. "Not really."

"Where are you? I'm coming to you."

"No, wait," Leon called your name almost in a plea. "I don't want you to drag yourself into this."

You weren't backing down without a little bit of a fight. "Leon, please."

He paused before stating he was in a hospital outside of Raccoon City.

--

Leon knew he loved you after that. He never admitted to himself until he was sure, but he couldn't prevent that innocent crush from growing into something more powerful.

You became a firework, blazing in his lonely, starless sky. You had always been.

2004.

He liked to believe he still loved the same. Wanted to love the same as he did all those years ago. His heart pounding and his palms becoming clammy, blue eyes full of innocent love.

He knew he didn't.

Leon was reserved now, awkward with his affection, hesitant with his touches yet still craved it. He hated that you had to watch him develop--no, perhaps devolve was the better word here--this trauma response. This training, this work, it all collapsed on top of him, and sometimes he felt as if it would eventually crush him.

Yet, some part of you still saw his old self. That stupid, lovesick boy who craved your attention the way a puppy would a scrap of food. You still gave him love, still kissed his scars, still told him sweet nothings when he broke down crying because the pressure was too much.

He once asked you if you were okay with all of this still, okay with him. You gave him your usual smile, the one that made him weak and touched that lovesick boy deep down. "You're stuck with me, Leon. I gave myself to you the day you asked me out. I'm staying. No matter what happens, I'm here."

He kissed you hard that day. Harder than he ever had. Placing a promise against your lips that he would always come back to you. No matter what.

--

You often wondered what he would do without you. If he would crash and burn the moment you turned around, if the night terrors would claw at his throat and suffocate him.

It was hard, watching him suffer mentally when all you could do was give him words of affirmation. Reassure him that the nightmares weren't real and that you were truly there with him and not bloodied up and dead.

Those moments made the good ones feel like precious gifts. Not just for you, but also for him. You carried them in your heart and held on to those when the bad days would storm over his head.

You remembered one of those good days so clearly, so vividly it never failed to make you smile. One day, while looking over some files, Leon had fallen asleep. His glasses--the ones he usually only used whenever he was reading important work files--were scrunched against his face, pushing up against the bridge of his nose. You remembered walking into his office, snickering a little at the sight. You sighed, shaking your head. "What am I going to do with you?"

You approached him quietly, as if the smallest movement would ruin his peaceful slumber. You grabbed the rims of his glasses carefully, pulling them off his face so he'd be more comfortable. As you did, you caught a feel of his soft locks and couldn't help but lightly smooth between your fingers. You took note of his facial features; his cheekbones were more rigid, and the shadows of his eyes were sunken in. His hair was even a bit darker, looking dirtier blond than it had when you first met. Still handsome, that would never change.

The urge to kiss his forehead had you twitching, but you didn’t want to disturb him. Especially since he had probably been staring at documented words for who knows how long.

You moved to quietly nudge yourself away before his sleepy voice mumbled. "Gonna go so soon?"

You blinked, looking down to see his eyes were now open. Still hazy from his rest. You practically beamed at him. "Didn't wanna wake you."

Leon sat up, stretching a little before putting his glasses back on. "Guess I must've passed out. These reports practically put me to sleep. I can't believe this is part of what they pay me for."

You attempted to catch a glimpse of whatever was on the document, but he placed them flat on the table when he caught you.

Leon snickered. "Classified. Sorry, baby."

You pouted a little. "Can't I help my boyfriend out a little?"

He stood up and stretched more, popping his back. "Not if it means you getting in trouble by seeing the reports. I'd also get in trouble, and we definitely wouldn't want that."

"Man, and here I thought I'd be able to see the famous missions Leon Kennedy goes on," you teased.

Leon just rolled his eyes as if you two had had this discussion before. You have. You just like to see him smile. Distract him as much as you could.

"Become an agent, then we'll talk." He took off his glasses and put them back on his desk. He placed his gaze upon you, and you could feel the adoration in his eyes. He still looked at you as if you had created the sky, the moon, the stars. As if you were his sun and he orbited around you and only you. You would never get over it.

Leon mimicked the action you were doing earlier and parted your hair from your cheeks so he could kiss your forehead.

His work phone rang loud, interrupting the moment. Leon sighed and kissed you quickly against the lips before the obligation to his duty forced him to go answer it.

"Kennedy. Yes, sir."

You observed his body language as he discussed with his superior. His shoulders went rigid, his eyes focused as if he were already on the field. He was prepared for whatever they were about to tell him because he had to be.

He hung up after a minute of giving affirming hums and a variety of yeses. Leon plopped his phone on the documentations and gave you an apologetic look.

"Don't worry about it." You shook your head. You knew what he was about to say. He didn't even need to tell you anything out loud. His eyes told the whole story.

"I really don't deserve you," he mumbled. "Makes me wonder how you do it."

"Because I love you." You said simply. "I'm here to stay, remember?"

--

|Tags:|

@seraphiism , @uhlunaro , @izuniias , @honeyfict , @konigbabe , @leonskillshot , @airanke , @muffimtv , @justonemore-fic , @mandalhoerian , @tosuckmyweenis , @boundinparchment

[runesandramblings]

I Just Want You

Word Count: 1400

Pairings: Fili x reader

Warnings: None

Description: Royal wedding plans begin to take their toll, but there's only one thing you require to make the day perfect.

Requested by anon so I don't have a way to tag you I'm sorry! But I hope you enjoy. 😇

“What do you think, nâtha? The lilies or the orchids?” 

You buried your face in your hands. The pounding against your temples, something that had become a familiar sensation as of late, began to worsen as you tried to piece together any coherent sentence. There were only three words that came to mind, the same three words you’d uttered countless times over the past several weeks. 

“I don’t know.” 

The joy of yours and Fili’s engagement had subsided the moment you’d broken the news to your families. With FIli being the crown prince and heir, there was no way Dis and your mother would let it be a simple affair. Invitations had already been sent out to every corner of Middle Earth, and you’d been occupied from sunup to sundown every day with planning. The dress, the flowers, the food… 

You were from a simple merchant family. The pomp and ceremony of royalty made no sense to you. Where you’d grown up, weddings were a simple affair. Most couples in your small village chose to elope rather than go through the bother of an elaborate ceremony. You’d have been more than happy to do the same. However, your mother and future mother in law had both been quick to dismiss the idea. 

“It’s no matter, dear. We have time to decide.” Your mother pulled several small scraps of fabric, ranging from the purest snow white to the creamier shades of ivory. She laid them out against the table and gestured to each. “Which color do you think for the dress? We’ve got to begin sewing soon if it will be ready in time.” 

Before you had the chance to respond, Dis laid out several different styles of gold and silver fabric beside the scraps your mother had laid down. 

“And what of the trim? You’ve got to decide if you prefer gold accents or silver. But I do suppose that would have an effect on the choice of flowers…” She trailed off, lost in her own world of thought. 

You could feel your pulse radiating against your temples as the migraine that had been forming worsened. This was the issue exactly. It wasn’t just selecting a dress. It was selecting a type of fabric, a trim, lace… And that had to coordinate with the flowers or else…

Or else what, exactly? Would the world cease to exist if the flowers and trim didn’t go together? Would Mahal himself descend from the sky if the food and the wine didn’t pair perfectly? 

You looked from where you sat at the head of the long, carved wood table to the opposite end. Fili sat on his own, silently working through a stack of parchments Thorin had given him. He hadn’t been overly involved in the plans, as your mothers had taken over almost immediately. But you’d expressed to him how stressful the process had been, and he’d decided to come sit with you for moral support. He met your gaze and gave you a gentle smile. It sent butterflies through your stomach, as it always did. He was all you needed, truly. You could get married in the same, tattered old dress he’d met you in carrying a bouquet of wildflowers for all you cared. As long as he was there, it was all you required.

“(Y/N)?” 

Your mother’s voice brought you back to the less desirable reality. She and Dis were both staring at you expectantly, the colored swatches of cloth still spread out across the table in front of you. 

“Silver or gold-”

“First, she has to decide on a shade of white. Which shade do you prefer, (Y/N)?” 

“Well it might help to decide on the accent first, then she can pick a white that goes with that.” 

As Dis and your mother began speaking over each other you buried your face in your hands once again. The pounding against your temples became rhythmic, a steady thump that seemed to grow louder and louder as their voices overlapped. You felt as though you might go mad if the pounding and the questions didn't stop soon.

“(Y/N)-” Dis started. 

“I don’t know!” You cried again, finally raising your head to look at the two of them. “I don’t know, okay? And I don’t care. Just pick a color. Whatever you both want.” 

You flung yourself back in the chair, crossing your arms over your chest. It was unlike you to have such an outburst, but you were exhausted. There were too many questions, too many decisions. You’d be more than happy for them to make the choices and just tell you when and where to show up on the day of. 

“And what do you want, amrâlimê?” 

The three of you turned your attention to the end of the table as Fili piped up. He’d laid his parchments to the side. His eyes were not on either of your mothers, but on you. You could see the genuine concern etched in the lines that furrowed between his brows. He knew the planning had begun to take a toll, and now he was able to see the full amount of stress that you were under. 

You felt tears begin to sting the corners of your eyes. 

“I just want you.” You said quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. 

Your mothers exchanged shameful glances across the table, finally seeming to realize just how much they’d piled on you at once. FIli’s expression softened as he continued to look at you, his eyes never breaking away to look at anyone else in the room.

“Could you leave us for a moment?” He asked. 

Dis and your mother stood silently, collecting the fabric and other wedding items they’d strewn across the table. You felt Dis place a hand apologetically on your shoulder as she followed your mother from the room. 

Once they’d gone Fili’s smile widened. He extended his hand to you, gesturing for you to come join him at the end of the table. You stood and quickly walked around to where he sat. Once you were within his arm’s reach he grabbed you, pulling you down by your waist and plopping you into his lap. As soon as your legs touched his he stretched his face up to your neck, peppering light kisses up and down your collarbones. You giggled as his mustache braids tickled the exposed skin of your neck, his lips working their way up to plant kisses along your cheeks. He finally found your mouth and pressed his delicately against yours, making it the gentlest and sweetest kiss of them all. 

You felt a contented sigh escape your lips as he pulled you closer to him, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist. You rested your chin on top of his head as your fingers began to slowly brush through his hair, careful as always not to disturb his perfectly placed braids. The feeling of his arms wrapped snugly around your waist had already alleviated the nervous pit in your stomach, and you wondered how it could have only been moments ago that you were stressed to the point of breaking down in tears. He was your safe place, your calm within the storm. 

“We don’t have to make it into a spectacle, you know.” He murmured into the collar of your dress. “It can just be the two of us, whenever and wherever you want.” 

“We can’t.” You said, wistfully. If only it were that simple. 

“And who says so?” 

“You’re the prince-”

“To hell with that.” He said, pulling back just enough to look up at you. “Thorin’s already given his blessing for us to skip the whole affair.” 

“But our mothers-”

“To hell with them too.” His expression quickly changed from confidence to one of fear as he looked over his shoulder. “Don’t tell them I said that.” 

You giggled again, pulling him closer to you as he nuzzled his face into your neck once more. 

“Amrâlimê, I will go get Balin right now and have him perform the ceremony in this very room.” He continued. “I don’t need the flowers or the food or the party. I just want you, too.” 

You pulled back again, just enough to look down into his eyes. He was smiling up at you, his eyes sparkling with the same joy as they had the first day you met. He was all you needed, now and forever. 

“I think that sounds absolutely perfect.” You said, brushing back a few loosened strands of his golden hair. “On one condition.”

He looked at you expectantly as you continued. 

“You have to tell our mothers.”

nâtha - daughter

amrâlimê - my love

[phoxey]

French toast

Bada Lee x fem!reader

CW: none :3 this is pure fluff

AN: sorry for the long absence, and sorry that this is so short, but i promised a comeback, I am still struggling to write, but it's better than nothing.

I love writing, but like in any relationships there are ups and downs. and in such down phases love is hard work. But it's worth it in the end.

Valentines Day was approaching, and this would be the first time, that you wouldn’t spend the day with Bada. You two have been a couple for a few years now and she would always make Valentines Day special. This year Bada happened to be in a dance workshop on the other side of the world for a few weeks, missing Valentines Day. You tried to talk to her every day, but time zones were against you. When she was going to bed, you were waking up, and when you were going to bed, she was waking up. You only had a small timeframe for talking, and her schedule was tight. She thought you wouldn’t notice, but she woke up earlier and stayed up late just to talk to you. You wanted to scold her for it, but on the other hand you were also grateful for every minute you got with her.

You woke up to several messages from Bada, which she sent, when she knew it was midnight in Korea. It was some silly memes, asking you out to be her valentine, but with them came a long voice message.

“Good morning, beautiful. I hope you had the most wonderful sleep and the sweetest dreams. Maybe you even dreamt of us? I know, I always do. Especially when we are apart like this. I dream of holding you in my arms, your head on my chest, while we watch our favorite shows. It’s cheesy, I know. I really can’t wait for this moment to come. I will probably be at work when you listen to this. And everything I am about to say, I could have also written in a letter, but I wanted to say those things directly, so you can hear the sincerity in my voice. I want to tell you, how I feel. I am so very madly in love with you, it drives me crazy to not be with you for every minute of the day. Every day my love for you grows. How that is possible? I don’t know. Every day I seem to invent a new kind of infinity. I have been looking at your pictures a lot more these past few days, and since day one your beauty keeps striking me over and over again. I know you still can’t see what I see, but I swear to me you are the most beautiful woman on earth. I wish I could kiss every spot you are insecure about and make that feeling go away. I love all of you. You are truly beautiful inside and out. You are just perfect for me. To have such a kind, hardworking and understanding woman in my life, and to be able to call you mine, is truly the greatest blessing I have ever received. I love you.”

From the first word on, tears shot into your eyes. You were too overwhelmed to form a coherent thought. Just as you were trying to formulate a good answer, the doorbell rang. Confused, you walked to the apartment door and opened it. A giant bouquet of your favorite flowers stood in a vase on the ground. It was arranged in the form of a heart. You had to chuckle, this was so cheesy, but that was what you loved about your girlfriend. She always did and say cheesy things, but somehow it was never cringe.

“I see I am arriving in time.”, a familiar voice said.

You looked to the side and saw Lusher and Tatter walking up to your door, both of the carrying a suspicious number of bags.

“Good morning!”, you smiled. “What are you two doing here?”

Lusher and Tatter were grinning at each other for a moment. “We are playing Cupid.”, Tatter answered.

Inside, you put the bouquet on the dining table, as the girls sat down in the living room. You joined them after a moment, bringing them coffee.

You eyed the bags; your heart was racing.

“So!”, Lusher began, and Tatter got her phone out, to begin filming. “Your special someone instructed us to give you your Valentines Day presents. She is very sorry that she can’t be with you right now, but she still wants to make sure you are being spoiled on this special day. Like you deserve.”

You opened the first bag, inside was a shoebox. You recognized immediately what kind of shoes they were. The Nike Jordan 1s you had been wanting for a while now. You took them out to look at them. Suddenly something fell out of them. It was a polaroid photo. It was a mirror selfie of Bada pointing at her feet. She was wearing the same shoes.

The second bag was bigger but softer. Slowly you pulled out, what was inside. It was two pieces of clothing. Firstly, it was one of Badas pants, you always stole, when she made the mistake of wearing them to your apartment. The second item was one of her oversized hoodies. It even smelled like her parfum.

Speaking of it, the last bag was a little smaller. Inside were two things. One you recognized as your favorite parfum, which Bada also loved on you. Whenever you wore it, she stayed at your side, not leaving you for longer than one minute. But there was also a second parfum bottle. You sprayed it on your wrist and immediately the smell of Bada filled your nose. It was her parfum. Smelling it almost made you tear up. You missed her so much. Maybe spraying this onto her hoodie and your pillow would ease the pain of her not being with you finally.

With each present your smile got bigger and your giggles more frequent. Tatter smiled just as wide as she filmed your reaction.

“Do you like it?”

You spun around and there she was. Her tall frame leaning against the wall with her shoulder. Hands in her pockets. She wore her finest dress shirt and tie. She looked so beautiful. Tears welled up in your eyes as you ran into her arms.

“Happy Valentines Day, baby.”, she whispered and kissed on top of your head, as you buried your face in her neck, sobbing.

“I thought you couldn’t come for another week.”, you muttered against the skin of her neck, placing delicate kisses onto her pulse.

“I wanted to surprise you. Did you really think I can spend Valentines Day without my forever Valentine?”

Bada mouthed a thank you to the two other girls, who just winked at her and left the apartment, grinning.

“We have so much to talk about! I have so much tea for you! And you have to tell me all about your trip and your workshop!”, you said excitedly.

Bada smiled fondly at you and laced your fingers. Tenderly, she pressed her lips to your knuckles.

“Sounds good. How about we talk, while I make some French toast?”

[bigboysfalldeep]

The soccer stud—Marco

Since I can remember, I have always loved watching soccer. There was just something about pretty—sometimes bulky—men wearing skin-tight shirts, thin shorts, long socks, and those damn boots—especially in the rain with white gear. I was so happy when I got the job as an equipment manager for the local club.

I not only got to watch these handsome men play, but I was responsible for their sweaty, dirty, tight gear—a dream come true. It got even better when I met Marco, one of the club's star players. He was always so eager to play and to do what was best for the team, and most importantly to me, he looked so good wearing that black and yellow gear.

I knew I needed him to be mine and to obey me completely. That's when my other interest came into play: hypnosis, or conditioning, to be more precise.

It was just so much fun to play with a man's mind, especially the pretty ones—athletes—and men in uniform were the most exciting.

The training was about to begin in around 10 minutes. Most players were already on the pitch, waiting for the trainer. I prepared the equipment beforehand, so I could stroll through the stadium's tunnels, looking for my special one, Marco.

As I made my way toward my little office, I noticed that the locker room door was only ajar. That was interesting. I opened the door to find him standing in front of his locker, his back turned to me. Fuck, he looked so good wearing his gear; his ass especially looked fine in these black shorts.

Marco took a huge sip from his water bottle before he turned around. At first, he flinched, but once he realized it was me, he sighed.

"You scared me, dude." He chuckled while I smiled warmly.

"I am sorry. I didn't mean to." I kept smiling when I noticed he was holding one of my special water bottles.

I filled these bottles with water—no ordinary water, a special mixture of herbs, and a low dose of drugs—to put people at ease and calm them down. I told him that those would boost his abilities to train and play in general. He was really into that idea.

"I hope you like it." I motioned for the bottle in his hand. Marco's eyes shifted between mine and the bottle before he smiled shyly.

"It's really good." He licked his lips, savoring the taste lingering inside his mouth.

It felt like he had had multiple drinks today already. He seemed to need more time to think and form coherent thoughts.

"Very good." I nodded, but I needed to check something else. "Did you manage to give my playlist a go? You know, the one I created for your gym sessions?"

Marco closed his eyes for a second, thinking about my question, before he bit his lower lip. "It's a good playlist." He said this, looking at me with his eyes barely open.

"Good." I nodded again. "Then this might work out."

Taking a deep breath, I placed a hand on his shoulder, touching his jersey. Touching him through it made me so happy.

He leaned into my gentle touch just enough to still keep eye contact with me.

When I started to stroke him, his collarbone, and further to his neck, he started to purr quietly while looking at me so happily.

"Very good boy." I growled. "You've been drinking a lot and enjoying the playlist, haven't you?"

Marco kept smiling, enjoying my soft strokes. "Yesss." He purred, and subconsciously, he started to stroke his own chest through his tight jersey.

"Listen. We don't have much time." I gently pulled him into me to whisper into his ear.

"You did so good, Marco." I breathed into his ear, causing him to let out a low guttural moan.

Both of us took several deep breaths.

Marco, because his week-long conditioning was slowly taking over. All those songs are intertwined with hidden messages, just barely noticeable when you know they're in there, telling him to obey and to do anything for his one true owner.

Me, on the other hand? I couldn't believe how well it was working! I was holding this beautiful soccer boy so close to my body—the feeling of his gear on my skin, the faint scent of him in my nose, and the staggering excitement building up inside my stomach—fucking good.

"I want you; I need you to be mine." My voice broke once at the simple thought of owning him and using him however I desired.

At the same time, I keep stroking his neck and collarbone while using my other hand to stroke his firm chest and tummy.

I always enjoyed the feeling of the jersey's fabric on my skin, so it made me so hard so fast, but touching him through the thin shirt made it even better. 

It was easy to tell that his body was reacting purely on instinct: his muscles tensed quickly and his breathing quickened slightly.

Marco's mind was working overtime, just to be flooded with the easiest command right now: listen and obey.

"You would like it to be owned, wouldn't you?" I whispered into his ear, causing him to moan in agreement with his barely hearable voice.

"Good boy." I kept stroking his tummy before I gave in to my curiosity.

While he melted more and more into me, I let my hand run even further down his body to feel his body through his tight shorts. It felt amazing: he was so hard, so big that I needed to confirm his size by looking down as well. His length was tenting visibly, straining the fabric of his shorts.

I made sure to make the most of this moment. I let my hands emcompass his entire form, from his thick pecs to his abs, back, ass, and thighs. It felt so good, and he was enjoying it as much as I was, for sure. Marco kept groaning, grunting, and purring while my hands felt every inch of his body react to the slightest touch.

I took another deep breath to regain my composure.

"Listen. Just keep drinking your water, keep working out with my playlist, and soon you will be ready." I said, running my hand up and down his ever-growing shaft.

He enjoyed himself so much, moaning quietly to himself.

"Give me a video call tonight." I steadied his head by his neck, forcing him to look into my eyes. His own were so pretty—unfocused, slightly sleepy—and their usual spark faded away. "At nine."

"Yes." He purred happily once more.

"And make sure to wear that beautiful kit of yours." I stroked his member twice, then went back to his firm chest and soft tummy.

"Mhmmm." He groaned.

"Now, it's time for training." I patted his pecs firmly. "Do your best."

Marco's eyes focused on mine while I was still stroking him. However, he didn't mind it at all.

"I will." He smiled again, and I watched him leave excitedly.

Training went well, but my whole body was just waiting for tonight.

And sure enough, right on time, my phone rang. It was Marco, and my heart started racing—it worked so well.

When I accepted the incoming call, I let out an audible moan, seeing his beautiful face through my screen.

His face was so pretty, and his eyes were searching for mine. Slightly unfocused, yet so vacant. He was wearing his entire kit, shoes, and all.

"Good boy." I said as I started to stroke myself through my shirt—god, this was exciting.

Marco's entire body reacted to my voice, and he started to smile derpily.

"I prepared a video for you, Marco." I shared my screen and opened a video I found years ago. A pretty little spiral to make him go under even further. "Just watch this; it will make you feel so much better."

"Okay." Marco nodded.

While he focused everything on the video, I started a screen recording. I was so excited to see what was actually happening—he should be conditioned to react to the spiral. I love these songs and knew the power of the hidden messages and the conditioning they contain, but the only thing I could do was wait and see.

The more he watched it, the deeper he went. His pretty eyes were glazed; a foggy gray consumed them as they rolled back into his head. Drooling, he got up from his chair so that his crotch was front and center.

And what a sight to behold! His member was even harder and bigger than before. His shorts were barely able to contain him, let alone conceal him.

Marco moaned loudly as he started to jerk off through his shorts. This caused me to do the same. My cock was pressing against my track pants, and I was leaking already—better than I had expected.

"Very good, boy." I growled into the microphone, causing him to groan and moan even louder. Feeling myself grow even bigger, I knew I couldn't hold back much longer.

Marco, on the other hand, wasn't done yet.

His hand slipped inside his tight shorts as he kept jerking off so fast, causing his body to twitch slightly. He touched himself, his ass lovingly as he moaned again, clearly enjoying this so much.

I could tell he was acting merely on conditioning, having experienced something similar before.

This caused me to shoot a load into my pants, widening the already wet patch considerably. I let out a low grunt as he did the same.

Marco's body stopped as he shot load after load into his shorts; much to my amusement, he kept jerking off.

Licking my lips, I watched him pull his sweaty, sticky cock out of his pants to fondle with it. 

He was so thick and so pretty—the perfect man.

As he kept stroking himself, I enjoyed the show. The spiral was still going, spinning and turning, until the video ended.

"You did so well, Marco." I said as he sat back down to look at me through the camera.

"Thank you." He smiled derpily.

"Make sure to keep this kit for me; I want it for myself." I chuckled, but he just purred in response.

"We will see each other on Thursday, okay?"

I watched his eyes focus slightly, and at first, I thought I screwed up. But instead, he smiled and pulled his shorts back up, completely unbothered by his stained clothes, his hard cock, or me talking to him through his phone.

"I hope so." Marco winked teasingly.

Then he ended the call and left me speechless—it couldn't have gone better.

[ginmoonnet]

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ Promise ︴˚࿔₊•

[Wanderer 🐈‍⬛]

Summary: Missing someone is difficult, and trying to forget is not easy either. (／_＼)

Genre: Kinda angst(? Idk it has some

♡︎ Wanderer x fem! Reader (I tried to make it gn! Reader but failed miserably, srry)

Note: Use of “Kuni/Kunikuzushi” referring to Wanderer

It's been about a few months since the two of you broke off any kind of contact.

You can still remember the last time you saw each other in person before what happened, you can even feel his warm hug before leaving saying that you would see each other soon, his image is still projected in your head waving his hand saying goodbye to you with a smile for What would seem like just a few weeks, nothing that hadn't happened before... that's why that last call impacted you so much.—Let's break up—. He blurted out abruptly, not even deigning to give you a coherent explanation. You laughed, thinking it was a joke, but the silence on the other end of the line stopped you in your tracks.—What? What do you mean?—. Another silence; It was true that the last few days they had been having disputes but you didn't think it was that serious.— You’re joking, right? You can’t be for real…Kuni?—. However, you didn't have time to ask anything else since after hearing the beep when hanging up the call he had already blocked or at least deleted you from most of his social networks and you didn't muster the courage to say anything else either.

That's how you didn't call him for sixty days. You felt empty, cold, you even considered finding some vice to distract yourself from that feeling... which you discarded for obvious reasons. Still, you felt like all your attempts to resist calling him or even thinking about it were going down the drain in a matter of seconds, one after the other.

You tried to excuse him, to excuse yourself so you wouldn't feel so guilty in case you lost to yourself and went after him once again. “Maybe he's confused”, “I should call him, it's probably all a misunderstanding”, “we can solve it together”, but you better than anyone knew that it wasn't true and even if they managed to talk, the damage to what they once had was done, which, although it took you a while, you ended up accepting... or so you believed until you couldn't resist it anymore that cold and lonely night.

You waited for a while, feeling more and more regretful with each beep your cell phone made as you waited for him to answer.

When you were just about to chicken out and hang up, you heard a voice on the other end of the line.—…Y/N?—. You felt a lump form in your throat, you could almost see how your nose began to turn red and your eyes glazed over.—I…I'm sorry—. You responded, almost in a whisper.—It’s…okay, Y/N—. He said, no, it wasn't right and he should know it perfectly, right?.—I did it accidentally, it's just... today I saw someone who looked like you and... I thought maybe it was you but…—. Your voice was cut off for a moment, you swallowed heavily and continued.—But you're not here and that's none of my business anymore, I know, it's just that I couldn't help it, I wanted to say hello to you, to know if everything was okay, if You were fine, just that...—.

Kunikuzushi remained silent throughout, letting you talk like he always did, like he always did until that last call. Remembering it made you shed some silent tears, why?. Why, if that time he forced you to swallow your words and doubts, why didn't he did it again? Why did he seem to try to empathize with you? Did he feel sorry for you? for you?. That last thought was the one that gave you the courage to direct your index finger to that red button on the screen but his voice stopped you.—Don't worry, I'm fine... How…how have you been?—. He asked, in the warmest way he had spoken to you in months.

Your chin began to tremble and tears fell uncontrollably, making your head throb.—Kunikuzushi I'm going to hang u…—. You couldn't finish your sentence because he interrupted you without warning. —I'm sorry, Y/N—. A muffled sigh escaped your lips, as if it had been trying to escape from your throat for some time now..—What…?—.

—It wasn't your fault, none of this was your fault, it's just that, I was afraid and I acted without thinking. I was not going through my best moment and I hid it from you for months but I simply couldn't take it anymore, I didn't have the courage to explain myself to you at that moment and I hurt you but that was never my intention, quite the opposite…—. He answered you, calmly, although you could hear the remorse in his voice.—A-after a few days I thought about confessing everything to you, but with what face would I go and explain to you?! After all…the damage had already been done and I thought that not talking to you anymore would be better than trying to clean up my mess, y’know?—. He explained, after that and awkward silence didn’t hesitate to get in the conversation.

—…I waited—. You confessed.—Huh?—. He blurted out, somewhat disconcerted.— I waited, days, weeks and then months. I waited for a call or I don't know, maybe a message?, Any sign that all this could be a mistake... but they never came, Kunikuzushi, they never did—. Silence, the boy didn't know what to respond so you continued.—There are still days that I wish this was all a bad dream, you know?...ha...Even in the mornings when I wake up, I find myself hugging a lot of pillows like I hugged you, but it's not the same and it's sad because I feel like I'm the only one still clinging to the othe—.

—Me too, to be honest—. The blue-haired man stated.

—Huh?, what do you mean?—. You asked.—I also think about you, a lot. I also imagine you with me sometimes…but it's not the same, and it’ll never—.

—Be the same—. You responded.—Yes…—. He confirmed.

After a silence that felt strangely comfortable you spoke again.—So, what now?—. You weren't sure what to do, you wanted to see him, hug him, although, was that really what you wanted?. You were beginning to believe that kicking him to get paid for what he had done to you was also a great option.—I have no idea—. He responded, laughing a little to himself which you also did.—…Thank you for calling me—. He said with regret. You processed his words before responding.—Thank you for responding—. So they both laughed a little again before another silence appeared.

Even when those chuckles and giggles were recents they felt somehow nostalgic for some reason. After a while they both fell silent once again.

—Hey Y/N—. He called you by your name, like he always did.—Yes, Kuni?—.He laughed at the nickname, he hadn't heard it in a while and he was starting to miss it.—I still love you—. You thought for a moment before answering.—Yeah…me too—. You sighed.

Even though y’all had just declared your love after so long, those words felt more like a farewell and, for some strange reason, this time you felt calm.

—I think I'm going to love you for the rest of my life...can I?—. He asked with some shyness and uncertainty. You scoffed at his words and the tone of voice with which he recited them.—Good night, Kuni—. Even though you couldn't see him, he smiled at your words.—Sweet dreams, Y/N—. My dear Y/N…

A/N: TMI!

-NYEHEHRHEHEHE 😼😼😼😼

-I’ll be honest with y’all. I wanted this to be breathtaking, heartbreaking, so sad, horrible miserable, but I didn’t felt like crying that day so ur welcome ig LOL

-It may look as if I was working on everything but the fic that I started and haven’t realized the second part haha hehe hoho…and it’s partially true (I will upload it, someday, I swear) BUT I already got the Xiao and Wanderer one shot finished a while ago and the only thing I did was translate so yeah.

Kisses hugs.

—Moonヽ(^‥^=ゞ). ミ★

Masterlist for other works!

[finalgilmoregirl]

thanks for all the love on my last two posts, here’s an idea i thought of the other day that i actually was able to fully flesh out

☆ a growing relationship between fnaf movie!mike x fem!mall worker!reader would include :

- pre fnaf movie events

a/n : i made this in head cannon form to save time but i might make a blurb series. ALSO IMPORTANT : i try to make the reader in my fics as physically non descriptive as possible which means i try to stay away from words like “tall, short, pale, thin” etc… if there is ever an explicit description, it’ll be in the title (like how i put “fem!” or “latina”) okay that being said, enjoy!

- movie takes place in 2000s so naturally reader would work in retail whilst in college (movie!mike is thought to be in his mid-20s so i’m also making reader around that age)

- i think the first interaction between the two would be at her place of work, on a particular slow morning

- he’s only had his security job at the mall for about a week, and his employers had him bouncing around different stores, trying to find his place in the building

- which is how he ended up standing at the front your store at 10am

- he’d spoken to the assistant manager for a moment right before opening but it wasn’t until almost an hour into his shift that he’d noticed you

- he’d just failed to stifle his tenth yawn in the last few minutes when he heard your voice, snapping his brain into high alert

- “excuse me?”

- he turned his head in your direction and widened his eyes a bit before trying to relax

- you were talking to him, and you were beautiful

- “uhm, yeah?” he replied, instantly cursing himself in his mind for not replying more politely

- you obviously didn’t mind his response as you smiled sweetly, reaching an arm out, which is what made mike take notice of the to-go cup in your hand

- “sorry, i just thought you could use this.”

- oh! this surprised the man, and you took notice of the look on his face.

- to be fair this was weird, at least a little bit. you’d never given the other security guards coffee. you were always polite to them of course, but you never went out of your way to try to make an impression ike this.

- but then again, none of the other security guards were this cute

- and you thought mike was very cute

- “i know, it’s a bit weird but i was over there stacking clothes and couldn’t help but notice how tired you seemed.” you pointed to where you were just a moment ago, before you’d gone to the back room to get mike his drink

- mike looked to the area you pointed out, taking notice of the pile of clothes you’d seemed to be in the process of organizing

- mike wanted to hit himself. he was so caught up in his own head and trying to force himself awake that he didn’t even notice that you had been a mere ten feet away this entire time.

- he then looked back at you and realized he hadn’t make a single coherent reply to anything you’d said so far

- he shook his head out of his thoughts and gave you a small smile

- “no no that’s not weird” he said, taking the coffee out of your hands and trying to ignore how soft they felt as his fingertips brushed against them, “that’s really nice of you, thank you.”

- you shrugged, playing with your now free hands while trying to ignore how your heartbeat had started to quicken

- “it’s no big deal, i just thought it’d be best if you were awake in case anyone tried to rob us” you joked, earning a chuckle from mike.

- “i’m y/n by the way” you held out your hand to him

- “i’m mike” he said as he took it, giving it a light shake and reluctantly letting go

- you looked into each others eyes for a moment, and warmth started to circulate your bodies

- unfortunately, the moment was gone too fast as one of your coworkers called you over, asking for your help in taking down some boxes

- you looked back at mike, who still held the smallest smile

- “i guess i’ll see you around.” you shrugged, walking away

- as the day went by and the store got increasingly busier, you and mike failed to have anymore interactions and soon, he had to leave, saddened by the fact that he couldn’t say goodbye but also hopeful at the thought that he might see you again

- it wasn’t until a week later that he did

- he unfortunately got stationed at a kiosk near the entrance of the mall, however that didn’t stop him from walking by your store on his breaks in hopes to catch another glimpse of you

- he did this for three days until this routine paid off.

- you were working the cash register, conversing with a young girl and her mother as you bagged their clothing

- “have a good one!” you smiled brightly at the pair as they walked out of store, which is when you saw mike approach the entrance

- he walked in shyly, hands in his pockets

- he’s wanted to see you… but what did he even plan to say?

- “hey mike!” you called out to the brunette as he walked in

- he responded with his own “hi” as he walked up to the counter

- “what are you doing here?”

- “you know, just…taking a walk”

- he looked down for a moment, nerves creeping up on him. well, he thought. i might as well take advantage of this moment. i mean, you’re right there.

- with a sudden surge of confidence (and despite the sweat now pooling down the back of his neck) he looked back up and said : “i actually just realized.”

- you looked back at him expectedly

- “i never got to repay you for that coffee.”

- when asked if you’d like to cash in that debt you replied a bit faster than you would like to admit, and a date was set for the same day

- where mike had four more hours to go after his break, you had three. which you thought was more than fine, just more time to prepare for this date

- you would meet at the coffee place across from the food court after both of your shifts

- and when you did, it was like something out of a movie

- mike of course, as guarded as he his, tried his best from dumping any trauma on you and steered clear from anything he thought was too personal in fear of scaring you away. however after picking up bits and piece from your life, he had a feeling you wouldn’t judge him

- despite you basically being a stranger, he felt more relaxed than he had in years, him learning about you was enough to distract him from whatever nightmares plagued him at all hours of the day, just for a little while

- as time went on and you both kept in touch after your first date, mike began to open up a bit more

- after the first few weeks he told you about abby, more so about their situation

- you sympathized with him a bit, offering advice if he needed it and a helping hand if any issues with their current babysitter came up

- your selflessness solidified his thought that this could be something good, which led to your first kiss after your fourth date

- you figured it would take a while, you sensed from the first date that he would be a tough book to crack open, but you really liked him and were more than happy to be patient.

- back to abby :

- as much as he was okay with talking to you about abby, he hadn’t planned to tell abby about you. not knowing how she would react to adding a random woman to possibly be a part of her life after their mother

- this of course became a small issue when she began to notice how much more time he spent on the phone

- phone bill be damned, he would still lean against the kitchen wall, twirling the phone cord around his finger for at least half an hour while he talked to you

- “who is it?” abby asked one late afternoon.

- where she was supposed to be in bed already, she came out to get a glass of water, catching her brother talking in a hushed voice.

- “don’t worry about it” mike would tell her.

- “what are they saying?”

- “abby can you please just go to your room”

- she would very soon find out about your existence when one evening mike put the phone down for a second to go look for a book he wanted to tell you about

- as soon as he walked out of the room, abby jumped from her place on the couch and snuck to the phone

- “hello?” she whispered, cupping her hand over the transmitter

- “hi” you smiled, picturing the young girl that mike had described to you before

- “who is this?” abby asked, almost aggressively, confused as to why her brother has been talking to a woman

- “i’m y/n” you told her, trying to suppress a laugh

- something clicked in the child then

- gasp “are you mikes girlfriend??”

- it was just then that mike had returned, and with a face of anger and horror her snatched the device from abby’s grasp and lightly shoved her away with a light scolding “abby what the hell did i say?”

- you laughed harder at his tone

- “i am so sorry about that. what did she say to you?”

- “oh nothing” you sighed, “she just asked me if i was your girlfriend.”

- he mouthed a god dammit as he looked to the ceiling

- he wasn’t embarrassed that abby had asked, he was embarrassed that he hadn’t asked you yet

- there’s no protocol to dating as an adult. “will you be my girlfriend?” sounds too childish and when that’s out of the question, where do you go from there?

- “well…” mike shut his eyes tightly as he asked, “what did you say?”

- “i didn’t get to answer. what do you think i should have said?” you said, lighthearted but pointedly.

- swallowing the bile he felt creeping up his throat at the nerves he rubbed his hand to his sweater clad chest

- “i mean…” you continued. “do you want me to be?”

- my god yes he desperately thought but tried his best to sound casual “yeah, i’d like that”

- “well then, i suppose i am your girlfriend. maybe i can actually tell her next time”

- he sensed the teasing in your voice and gave a mixed of a chuckle and a sigh at your answer, the weight the nerves left on his chest lifted.

- “next time” he said softly, “sounds good”

☆ might start planning a part two

[2irise]

older!toji x reader on the brink of separation

cw: smut, toji cries, cussing, implied infidelity, usage of baby, sweet wife, love

( toji & his ex wife are the parents to megumi )

my first time writing ever, dont be harsh lmao <3 feedback is veryy appreciated!! wc: 791

as you swayed your hips to the music blasting in the club you couldn't help thinking about toji, you knew toji was waiting for at home, but you deserve this night out. its not like toji hasn't left you waiting in bed for hours before. last night you fell asleep in a cold bed while waiting for your husband to drop off his son and come home, but you knew toji was probably too busy with his ex wife. could you blame him? communication has been dull between you too these last couple of weeks, fights getting more frequent. "i'm going to go get a drink" you lie to your best friend, instead you head to the bathroom, checking the missed calls and texts from your husband.

my love: "its getting late baby, when are you coming home?"

my love; "yn."

my love: "you don't know how to pick up your fucking phone?"

my love: "come home, now."

my love: "please."

you sigh, putting your phone away, as you head to your best friend she notices the frown on your face "not having fun babe?" she asks, you give a bittersweet smile "i think i'm going to take a uber" you replied "alright, sure yeah be safe" you hug her before making your way to the front of the club, waiting for your car.

as you come through the door you spot toji, knocked out on the couch. you notice the spilled beer bottle on the floor under him, hes been drinking. "toji" you whisper. "baby wake up" you nudge him. "yn?" toji groans. "hmm c'mon baby lets get you to the bed" toji grabs your hand as you lead him to the bedroom. after you lay toji down you use this opportunity to take a shower and get unready. when you come out you eye toji as he sits on the edge of the bed you attempt to make your way on the other side before you feel arms tangle around your waist "don't leave me" he mutters into your stomach "i'm not toji" you comb your fingers through his hair "never, even if i don't deserve you, i need you anyway" he lifts his head and you see the tears in his eyes, threatening to fall over "my heart is yours toji" he stands, still holding your waist "all mine" he mutters. "and you?" you ask "hm? he hums. "are you all mine too?" he smirks "do i need to prove it to my sweet wife?"

toji has you on your back, naked, legs spread wide open for him as he slurps your sweet pussy juices, "oh fuckk toji" "shh baby, don't distract me while i'm eating this pussy" you eagerly jolt your hips in the air when you feel his tongue swirl around your clit. "go ahead and cry baby, you're not going no where until you cum" he starts flicking your folds with the tip of his tounge "tojiiii hmm" you cry out as he laps your pussy with his mouth. "there you go" he praises. you cry out in pleasure as you reach your breaking point "so good for me baby" when he comes up for a kiss you can taste the mix of alcohol and yourself on his tongue. "need more" "please" you plead, "i know baby, i'm going to give you what you want" toji lines his cock along your entrance, teasing you by running his thick tip up and down your folds, you whine "i need yo-" he thrusts into you, bottoming out not letting you finish your plea, "AAhha fuck toji slow" "aww, you wanted it so bad, you can take it" you roll your eyes as your breathing rabidly gets heavier, his thrust become ruthless as he speeds, pounding into you "mm gonna cum again" you hardly get out "cum with me baby" he puts his head in your neck as his thrusts grow sloppy, "mmcumming" "let me make you a momma baby" you moan, you can barley think, let alone form a coherent sentence. "fuck" toji whimpers as he releases inside of you.

when he makes no attempt to move off of you, you begin to stroke his back "love u s'much toji" he buries his face deeper in your neck "i love you too" "m sorry" you wonder what he means before you ask "for what love?" "for letting you think there could ever be anyone else for me.” “last night i stayed late for megumi, not her, not anyone else" you continue stroking his back, moving up to caress his hair every once in a while "i’m sorry too" you say softly "don't apologize" "but i am, i shouldn’t have thought otherwise" he chuckles at how persistent his wife could be “but next time you better call me” you both laugh, holding each other to sleep

AHH FIRST FIC EVER IM SCAREDD. inboxes are open for any requests ;))))))

[one-fin-wonder]

Headcanons: Building a blanket fort with the Moon Boys (After finding out they've never built one before)

A/N: Hey so I've been stuck with being sick this past week and some of last week. So I've had literally no time to write coherently till 3 am this morning. I'm so sorry it's been a hot min since I uploaded. I really liked this concept tho! I found it when looking up date ideas for these headcanons.

Warnings: Fluff, Comfort, cute tooth rotting shit. Jake Lockely being a emotionally unavailable man, But also he has tears so. Don't worry you comfort him. No use of Y/N but it says "you" more often than typically in my writings. Established relationship, I also once again accidently wrote the most for Jake. Sorry, not sorry.

“You never what????” You stare at your boyfriend in shock and bewilderment. “I’ve never built a blanket fort.” He says back plainly with a shrug. You stand up abruptly and run to your shared ‘bedroom’ grabbing pillows and blankets running to the couch periodically to throw them down. “Come on,” you say as you grab his hand and drag him to help “we’re making a blanket fort *right now*”

Steven Grant:

Steven is so excited to get the chance to build a blanket fort with you 

He also is extremely happy that you want to do it with him, I mean how can he not be? You’re adorable with how excited you are to share this moment with him. 

He does what you ask, pinning blankets up over the loft and grabbing chairs to make into a cute little tent of blankets. 

"Love, that's so many blankets."

He fidgets with his hands as you make the fort

He's a little nervous because he's out of his element with this,

"Come on!" you'd tug him inside with a smile and he would gladly follow

He smiles once he’s sitting inside of it with you all the blankets and pillows placed carefully around you both as you settle into the bed 

“So this is what it’s like? It’s so comfortable” 

He has the plushies from the museum, I don't make the rules. (I say as I quite obviously make the rules)

He would gently hold you as you both talked while sitting in the fort you built together. 

Marc Spector:

he watches you very confused as to what is happening 

“I mean we didn't exactly have an ideal childhood..” 

you’d kindly stop what you were doing and hug him for a moment “I know, I know hon,” you’d say softly “now grab that blanket and follow me.”

He’d do as you’d say. Still very confused but willing to follow your lead 

“Y’know we’re going to have to refold all of these right?” He tells you as you unravel the fifth blanket to complete the fort 

You’d deadpan looking at him and he’d raise his hands in a fake surrender, 

He’d help you when you needed it but mostly he has no idea what to do.

He’s just standing there, he’s out of his element and he doesn’t know how to help. 

Marc said: 🧍‍♂️

Once you finish he looks at the fort then at you “soooo?”

You’d shove him towards the entrance (carefully of course.) 

He’d crawl into the small space and you’d follow suite 

He sits in the fort looking around at all the blankets and pillows you’d gathered for it 

“I already have a pidgeon in my life you know.” He’d say sarcastically at you nodding to the nest like interior and you’d stick your tongue out at him

He’d laugh as he pulls you close “thank you,” he’d say quietly 

“Of course,” you reply “you deserve the world. And also building forts is like the epitome of childhood.”

 You’d rest against him relaxing in the comfort of your newly made fort.  

He holds you close as you both chat away, cuddling till the sunsets. 

Jake Lockley:

You yank his blanket away and run to the bedroom and he starts cursing in Spanish 

“Oye! Bring that back! I was using it.” 

He’d then stop in the space between the small kitchen and Gus’ tank and the entrance to his bed as he watched you pulling blankets from every spot you could find them 

“The fuck you doin?” He’d ask as he puts his hands on his hips walking up to the edge of the bed slowly 

“Fort.” You’d respond shortly 

“The fucking hell does that mean??” This poor Spanish man has no clue what’s going on. 

He takes his hat off and scratches his head as he watches you utterly confused. 

I think Jake didn’t see much of any childhood, he doesn’t know what it’s like to have that whimsical imagination or the enjoyment of toys that the others did (even if their enjoyment was cut short they still experienced it a tad) 

This makes him not even aware of the benefits of a good fort. 

You’d pull the blankets up gently creating the perfect fort as you look back at him. 

“Que?” He’d look between you and the fort several times 

“Get in”

“You kidding me?” 

“Get. In.” You’d walk over dragging him by his hand 

“Jesus Christ! okay, okay!” He gets inside and immediately his eyes light up at the comfort 

You watch with a smile as he adjusts himself in the pillows and blankets 

Once he settled you get in beside him and bring a blanket over you both 

“You like it..?” You’d ask

“Si, gracias, mi amor,” (yes, thank you, my love.) 

You cuddle against him as you stare at the ceiling with him 

I wonder if he’d cry at the idea of having someone who loves him this deeply to share pieces of their childhood because he didn’t get an ideal one. And he can’t believe that he’s loved in this way. 

“Oh, baby..” you’d say wiping a stray tear away and kissing his cheek where it had been “it’s okay,” you’d whisper as you hold him close allowing him to express himself however he feels comfortable because this man is so emotionally cold that he probably has no clue how to express himself. 

“Gracias.. gracias desde el fondo de mi corazón, gracias” (thank you, thank you from the bottom of my heart, thank you.)

[daisynik7]

could you do the most gut punching, debilitatingly soul crushing, hair pulling, tear inducing eren ff



cw: PLEASE READ - extremely heavy content and trauma warning, please proceed with caution. If you are sensitive to topics that deal with traumatic events, please avoid this. I'm being overly cautious just in case! 

Author’s Note: Thank you for the request, anon. Doing my best to give you something that I consider gut punching/debilitating/tear inducing. I’m sorry for the hurt, this was a tough one to write!

It’s past midnight and you can’t sleep. You’ve been staring up at the ceiling for the past hour, eyes focused on the blank canvas above you, mind unable to shut down the way you want it to. It’s no secret: you’re thinking about Eren again. You haven’t stopped thinking about him for over a year now. And, given your unbreakable track record thus far, you never will.

You call his phone, knowing it’ll go straight to voicemail, clearing your throat as his familiar voice says, “Leave a message after the beep!” The tone rings, signaling for you to start. 

“Hey. It’s me again. I know you’re probably tired of hearing my voice, but if you think that’s going to stop me, you’re wrong. I’ll keep calling until the day you pick up.” You turn to your side, resting your phone between the pillow and your ear. 

“I can’t sleep. I had a shitty week at work. Levi’s been on my ass, complaining about how my desk is so unorganized. You know how he is. I guess it doesn’t help that I’ve been out of it. I don’t know. I wish you were here.” You swallow hard, trying to hold back from crying. It always leads to this, though. Tears streaming down your cheeks, soaking your pillow in sobs and snot. Eren always teased you for being such a cry baby. It’s one of the many things he loved about you. 

“Annie told me I should start dating again. Let go and move on. Told me it’s for the best. Of course, I got upset at her, but I know she’s just worried about me.” You sigh, eyes beginning to water. “Do you still think about me? Because I sure as hell still think about you. All the time.”

It’s inevitable now; the crying, the rush of emotions. “I’m still so fucking mad at you for leaving that night,” you say, sniffling. “So fucking mad for not staying with me. Why did you do that, Eren? Why did you leave me?” 

You sob into the phone, unable to form coherent words any longer. It takes a minute or two to collect yourself, wiping your face with the blanket, eyes puffy, nose runny. As best as you can, you continue, voice trembling. “I’m not actually angry. I promise you. I just miss you so fucking much. There’s not a day that goes by that I’m not thinking of you. I see you everywhere. In my dreams, around my house, whenever I hang out with our friends. You’re always here and always there. I can’t escape you.”

The giant teddy bear he won at that state fair five years ago sits on the bed beside you. You reach out for it, holding it snug in an embrace, the phone still squeezed to your ear. “I know you’ll never listen to this, but I want you to know that I still love you. I’ve always loved you, Eren. I always will.” With that, you hang up, ending the voicemail.

It’s been over a year now since the accident. When you got the call from his parents, you were staring up at the ceiling, exactly like tonight, unable to sleep. Waiting for his call to come through, ensuring you he got home safely. You told him to stay over, but he insisted, knowing he had to be with his family the next morning to celebrate his mom’s birthday. And of course, it’s not his fault for insisting. Eren was always trying to make everybody happy. It’s not his fault for driving that night. It’s not his fault for stepping on the gas pedal when the stoplight turned green. It’s not his fault for not noticing the speeding car with its headlights turned off, driving towards him, running the red. None of it was his fault, and that’s what makes it hurt the most. He didn’t deserve this. Nobody does.

And while he’s still living and breathing, the steady heartbeat pounding in his chest, it’s almost harder than if he wasn’t. For over a year now, you’ve held onto hope that one day, he’ll wake up from his coma. That the past twelve, thirteen, fifteen months have been an unbearable nightmare, and he’ll be back to his normal self. Laughing and smiling with his cheeks rounded, the same electric joy he brings everywhere he goes. It’s that hope that drives you crazy, keeps you sinking down this unending spiral. But it’s the only thing you have left to hang on to. 

It's become routine to visit him every weekend in the hospital. Sitting beside his peaceful form, stroking his hand. Throat stuck with anguish that renders you speechless. That’s why you leave the voicemails for him on his phone, the one that his mom promises to keep charged every day because she knows how important it is to you. You scoot the chair closer to him, the phone held in your grasp, playing on speaker the latest message you left for him just several hours ago. Wishing for a miracle that somehow, he’s hearing this and dreaming of you in his everlasting slumber.

Hey. It’s me again. I know you’re probably tired of hearing my voice, but if you think that’s going to stop me, you’re wrong. I’ll keep calling until the day you pick up.          

[albertasunrise]

Back to Reality - Oops Baby

Masterlist

Summary: Being best friends with Frankie meant movie nights, drinks with the guys and a shoulder to cry on when you got your hear broken. He is head over heels for you but you don’t feel the same… yet a drunken mistake will tie your lives together forever!

Relationships: Frankie Morales x Reader

Warnings: Like AO3 I choose to give none. Read at own risk. 18+ (Sorry this took so long! I hope you enjoy 😘)

Series Masterlist - Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8

You gawked at Ben as the piece of information he'd given you set in. Frankie. Your Frankie thought you were dead. Ben watched you closely as a myriad of emotions flitted across your face. His arms gently bounced Esme as she settled against his firm chest and fell asleep once more. He knew this was a difficult idea to process but he also knew that you had to understand that Frank was delicate right now and needed time to assimilate this world instead of the one he'd been trapped in for weeks.

"Titch?" He piped up after you had been silent a while, his eyes searching your face for any sort of understanding.

"He thinks I'm dead?" You asked and he nodded grimly "What?… How?… What do you mean?"

"When he woke the first time, he was sobbing about how he was going to see 'her' again. Initially, I had thought he meant Mel but it soon became clear it was you he was talking about." Ben answered as he rested his cheek against the crown of Emse's head "The doctor believes that when he was in a coma he was dreaming but aspects of reality trickled in." He continued "So those days we sat by his bedside and you asked him to come back to you, he could hear you. Or I suppose the ghost of you."

You couldn't hold back the sob that fell from your lips. Your heart shattered completely and you sank to the floor as you processed what Ben had said.

"So all that time he's been living in a world where I died and he's had to raise little Esme all alone." It wasn't a question. It was just you stating a simple fact and Ben could do nothing but watch as you fell apart on the clinical hospital floor.

"Titch, I know this is a lot to take in and I know your first instinct is probably to run back in there and try a convince him that this world is real and that you are too but…"

"I know what you're going to say, Ben." You interrupted "He's fragile and we need to be careful with him. I get it!" You snapped "I will stay away."

"That's not what I am saying." Ben groaned as he carefully lowered himself onto the ground beside you, his large hand cradling Esme's head as he slid down the lino-covered wall "He just needs a few days to adjust. He's been in a coma for close to two months. He's confused and it's going to take a few days for the fog to clear. So perhaps we ease him into this gently."

You nodded, knocking a few tears loose with the action and Ben smiled as you rested your head on his shoulder.

"He's back with us Titch and he's getting better." Ben stated as he nuzzled the downy hair on Esme's head "You and him and Esme are going to be a family but he's still got a road ahead of him."

You nodded, taking Ben's free hand in yours and giving it a gentle squeeze.

"We just need to help him walk it. At whatever pace he can manage."

The next few days were torture. You avoided the hospital like the plague, handing Emse off to Ben each day so that he could take her to see Frankie. You knew he was going to try and get Frankie to come around to the fact that you are real. That this isn't a dream but Frank was out of it during his visits. They had kept him mildly sedated in order to keep him calm as he got used to being awake. Ben and Will watched as his awareness slowly but surely ebbed its way through. Fish became a little more coherent with each visit.

"You think you feel up to holding her today?" Asked Ben as he took the bottle of water Frankie had been sipping from off of the man and placed it on the table "She seems smaller than I remember." The man said and Ben shared a look with Will.

"Remember what we talked about yesterday Catfish?" Will asked as he perched on the bed "You've been sleeping for a while and what you remember of Esme was a dream."

Frank's brows drew together as he tried to remember the conversation in question. Things were still so fuzzy. Memories felt heavy but he tried to figure out which ones were real and which ones were just a coma-induced fantasy.

"Who's been taking care of Esme whilst I've been gone?" He asked, his voice quiet and uncertain as his eyes flitted between the two Miller brothers.

"Titch has been." Ben stated "She woke up a few days after you had your heart attack." He continued as he placed his hand on his friend's and squeezed in in a reassuring gesture "She really wants to see you… She's missed you like crazy."

Frank just closed his eyes and shook his head as a few silent tears slipped down his flushed cheeks "Why would you say that to me." He choked "Why give me hope when there isn't any."

"Fish I am telling you the god's honest truth." Ben urged "Titch didn't die. It was all a dream."

"Ben." Will piped up, giving his younger brother a look that silently said 'That's enough.'

"I would like to hold my daughter now." Frankie stated plainly and Benny nodded, smiling down at little Esme as he scooped her up and placed her into her father's waiting arms.

The pilot beamed as he looked down at his daughter and it was the first time in days that either Miller brother had witnessed genuine joy from the older man.

"Hello, princessa." He cooed as he placed a kiss on the tip of her nose "You are so pretty." He resumed as he stroked her plump cheek with the tip of his pointer finger "Just like your mumma."

"Titch is such a natural with her man." Ben beamed as he watched the scene unfold "Seems to know what Esme wants before she even cries. It's mad." He chuckled but Frankie didn't look at him. Didn't even acknowledge that he had spoken.

Ben's shoulders visibly shrank at that.

Will motioned for Ben to follow him as he stood from where he had perched on the bed and made his way out into the hall, letting the pilot know they'd be back in a moment before stepping far enough away that they were out of earshot.

"I think we need to bring Titch to visit." Will stated plainly.

"But he still doesn't believe she's alive." Ben argued, glancing at the man through the glass wall of his cubical before returning his attention to Will.

"He's stable. The doctor said today that his vitals are strong and he's confident that the worst is behind." Will stated as he scraped a hand over his short blonde hair "I think it's time we bring her here. So that he can see for himself that she's alive and well."

"I don't know Will." Ben replied, shaking his head as he thought about it "You remember how he was last time he saw her."

"He had just woken up from a 7-week coma and he was confused." Wil growled "He is now awake, lucid and talking so I think now is the time to rip that bandaid off. We're gonna need to eventually"

Ben nodded. He knew his brother was right. Frankie was going to have to see you at some point and he had promised you that it was a few days that Fish needed to get himself used to this reality. Well, those 'few days' had long passed.

"Fine." Ben conceded "I will bring her with me tomorrow when I come to see him with Titchy." He replied "You're right."

"I know." Will teased as he gave his bother a friendly pat on the arm "Happens more often than you think."

"Shut up." Ben grumbled before they returned to the pilot's room.

"Are you sure about this Ben?" You asked as he led the way to Frankie's room.

When he had said it was time you visited with him and Esme you had been sceptical. You didn't want to go through another ordeal like the one you had experienced before. In just over a week you had witnessed him go into cardiac arrest and then wake up and beg you to leave him alone.

You weren't sure how much more your heart could take.

"Will said that it's time we rip that bandaid off and I agree." He stated simply as they came to the ICU "He's stable and getting stronger every day so I think it's time he starts to get used to the idea that you are very much alive and kicking."

"Your arse if this doesn't go well." You added and he chuckled.

"Fair enough."

You stopped outside Frankie's cubicle and noted he was sleeping and you felt yourself grow more and more nervous by the second. Ben didn't need to look at you to see this.

"I will go in, and let him know he has a visitor. Give me a few minutes okay?" He said softly as he placed a comforting hand on your arm "I'll wave at you to come in when he's ready okay?"

You simply nodded and watched as Ben stepped inside the glass room, his smile growing wide as Frankie's eyes cracked open and fixed on him.

…

"How are you feeling this morning brother?" He asked as he sat himself down beside his friend.

"Little stronger today." The pilot answered and Ben grinned at his reply.

"That's good Fishcakes." He chucked when the pilot groaned at the nickname "Feeling up to a visitor?" He asked and Frankie gave him a perplexed look "Titch is here." Ben stated and Frankie's eyes widened "She really wants to see you." He finished as he looked over his shoulder at you stood in the ward as you fidgetted with your hands.

Frankie's eyes followed Ben's and his eyes widened further as he saw you standing there.

"You can see her?" He asked Ben and the younger man chuckled.

"Course I can."

"She's really there?" He asked and Ben just smiled at him sweetly and nodded before motioning to you to come in.

You nervously stepped inside. Esme's carrier in one hand and the other pushing the glass door open. Your eyes never left Franks. Not even when you placed the carrier down on the floor beside you. The two of you just stared at each other for what felt like an eternity before Ben finally spoke up.

"I'll leave you two to catch up." He said as he picked up Esme "We're gonna go say hi to Esme's fans… Aren't with Titchy." He said as his voice adopted that high-pitched tone that was only for her.

Neither of you looked away as he left. You just continued to stare like it had been years rather than weeks without seeing or speaking to each other. When you couldn't take the silence anymore you spoke up whilst taking a seat at his bedside.

"How are you doing?" You asked, your voice quiet and timid as you searched his face for something.

"Stronger." He replied simply and you nodded "Still confused."

"I bet." You replied, trying to lighten the mood that had settled over the room "I'm so happy you're awake."

"Am I?" He asked and it was your turn to look confused "What if this is some sort of coma-induced dream?"

"Frankie-"

"How do I know that this isn't just my dying brain showing me what it is I want to see?"

Silent tears slipped down your cheeks as you and him just continued to stare at each other.

"I want to believe this is real." He hicupped as his own tears started to fall "I want to believe that the woman I love is alive and sitting right in front of me but I can't."

"I am real." You urged as you grabbed his hand and brought it to your face "Does this feel real to you?"

"Everything there felt real too!" He stated as he snatched his hand away "The pain… The heartbreak… All of that felt so real."

You sobbed loudly then as he continued.

"The pain I felt when that car struck me… it was so real. The pain of not being able to breathe as I lay there dying felt so real and I…" He trailed off but you knew what he was going to say.

He had been ready to die.

"What can I do to convince you that this is real?" You sobbed as you hugged yourself.

"I don't know." Frankie answered honestly "I don't want to accept this, that you are here right now, alive and well only for me to wake up one day in a different hospital bed and realise that it wasn't real. I can't lose you again."

"That's not going to happen!" You pleaded but he just shook his head.

"I wish I could believe that."

You were saved by the Ben.

The younger Miller strolled in with a grinning Esme in his arms and you quickly wiped away your tears and schooled your features.

"Titchy here is quick the chick magnet." Ben chuckled as he bounced her and she smiled widely as she shyly shoved her head in his chest "Awe… You weren't all shy a minute ago."

"Why do I get the feeling you're going to willingly babysit when I go back to work?" You chuckled and the man just shrugged nonchalantly.

"Because I'm an amazing uncle?"

"That you are." You said fondly as you took Esme from him "Time for someone's lunch you said as you sat down again and pulled down your tank top. Smiling as Esme eagerly latched to your breast and started to suckle.

Ben watched a moment in fondness before his eyes travelled over to Frankie who was watching in awe. His eyes were red and teary. From what, Ben wasn't sure but he did wonder if it was partly due to the beautiful spectacle of you breastfeeding Titchy.

He had been able to sense as soon as he walked in that your reunion hadn't been what you had hoped. So instead of prying, he tried to bring some joy and Titchy was nothing but pure joy in his eyes. He knew that both you and Frankie would talk about what had happened when you were ready. He wasn't going to push the subject. He knew this was going to take time and he was there for the ride.

So in the following weeks, You visited with Ben, hoping that each visit would bring him around to the idea that you were alive and that this wasn't some fever dream.

Then when the doctor announced that Frankie was well enough to go home, Ben helped you move into the pilot's house. You had figured he would be more comfortable in his own environment but he still needed help. He was getting stronger every day but he still had days where he felt rough and bone tired.

"Can I get you anything else?" You asked as you walked into the lounge and placed the freshly brewed coffee you'd made for him down on the table beside him.

Today was one of Frank's worse days. But he hadn't wanted to stay cooped up in bed. So you had helped him to the couch that you had set up with pillows and soft blankets. Esme was now napping on his bare chest, skin-on-skin time being something he had demanded the moment he had gotten home. You couldn't help but glance at the large scar between his pectorals. It was healing well but still looked pink and slightly angry. It was a clean cut. Almost a perfect straight line, right down the centre of his chest. The surgeon had said he was sure that with time, the scar would fade to the point that he almost wouldn't notice it but Frankie hadn't really cared all that much.

He was littered with scars from battle after all.

"No, thank you." Frankie replied as he glanced up at you and smiled before returning his attention to the drooling baby on his chest "She's so perfect." He stated as you sat down on the armchair across from him "I still can't believe that you and me made her."

"Yeah, I know what you mean." You chuckled "I still have to pinch myself on the daily because I can't believe she's real." You flinched at your statement, internally scorning yourself for your choice of words but Frank didn't appear to be phased.

"I hope she is." Was all he said as he stroked her cheek with his thumb, smiling sweetly at his precious angel.

You watched him for a while. Admiring how much of a natural he was with her. Since getting him back home you had started to express, allowing him to do some of the feeds whilst you cooked or cleaned, whatever needed doing.

Frankie did what he could on the days he felt well enough but on the days that he didn't you know he was torturing himself. He hated how weak he felt. This was a man who had never been afforded the opportunity to be weak. He was expected to be strong every day of his life. To walk away from battle even if he'd taken a bullet to the leg.

"I never told you how wonderful Esme Nursery is!" You said after a little while "You didn't such a wonderful job. Especially as you were squeezing it in between caring for her and visiting me in the hospital."

This made Frankie pause and he blinked up at you as he studied you closely.

"Ben told me that if you weren't with me at the hospital or caring for Esme, you were spending every waking moment getting that nursery finished."

"I had to keep myself distracted." He replied, his eyes glistening with unshed tears as he remembered how every time he'd closed his eyes, he pictured you as your face paled and your eyes had drooped. The alarms had rung in his ears for days.

"I know it must have been really hard for you, Fish." You said softly as you gave him a sympathetic smile.

"Not as hard as it's been for you." You didn't react to this.

This was the first time he'd acknowledged you and what you had likely been through whilst he'd been in a coma. He had still been weary of believing you were real. The odd comment here or there making it clear to you that he still didn't believe this was real.

But you could see that he wanted to.

"I don't want this to end." He whispered, so quietly that you almost missed it but you didn't.

"It won't." You replied with a smile.

Frankie glanced at you and noted a new expression you'd not seen before. Something that almost looked like hope so you hoped that your next statement would give him that.

"We're here to stay."

Next

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[half-oz-eddie]

One week after being taken in by Joyce and Jim, Billy's found it hard to kick his old habits.

He's found himself rather dependent on drugs and alcohol. So, he does what he usually does to deal with time at home— he gets high and drunk.

He always did it to numb himself, mind and body. So he wouldn't feel the punches. So the screams wouldn't sound so loud. So his body could still feel relaxed in frightening situations. So he could still sleep at night after facing the waking nightmare which was Neil hargrove.

He didn't need to do it anymore, but he still did.

Jim wasn't trying to smother the boy. Eighteen's still an adult, even if he's a kid in Jim's eyes. So he just...waits for Billy to eventually come home, hoping to God he doesn't have to go out looking for him.

10:30 PM...11:42...12:20...1:35...

2:32AM, Billy finally stumbles in the house, quite noisily. His keys hit the floor, he mumbles curses under his breath, he bumps into the coffee table because he's not used to navigating this house in the dark just yet.

He sighs in annoyance and just plops down on the couch. He's already feeling a little uneasy because he made so much noise.

Jim surfaces from his bedroom and sits next to Billy. He shines a flashlight in his face, answered by a groan and the quick reflex of Billy slapping the flashlight away.

"You're wasted, aren't you?" Jim assumes. "Joyce has been worried sick about you. I stayed up all night waiting because she sat by the window waiting to see you park in the driveway."

"Mmh." Billy groans. He's not coherent enough to respond, to apologize.

"How the hell did you drive like this?!" Jim questions.

"I do it all'a time. S'no big deal."

"It's a big deal. Are you crazy? You could've gotten yourself killed!"

"So what?"

"So what?! Billy! How do you think we would feel if something happened to you?"

"I'unno. I just got here. Wouldn't matter."

"It would matter. Jane loves you. Will and Jonathan really like having you here, and Joyce, psh, forget it. You're her baby, just like her other boys. She knows what you went through and all she wants to do is take care of you."

Billy whimpers in response before a soft sniffle can be heard.

Jim places a comforting hand on Billy's shoulder. "Don't cry, alright? Let's sober you up so you can say goodnight to Joyce."

"M'kay." Billy nods.

Jim makes him a cup of coffee and a sandwich.

"Listen. You don't have to check out whenever you come home. Things're different now. It'll be nice if you're present so we can feel like a family."

"You don't need a screw up like me in your family."

"We're all screw ups, Billy. We've all screwed up in one way or another, or been screwed over by life. That's what makes our family so great. We understand each other."

Silence filled the kitchen. The kitchen clock ticked and the lightbulb above them softly buzzed.

"Sorry." Billy finally said. "I'm not used to this."

"I know. You want some cookies and milk?"

"I'm not a kid." Billy rolled his eyes.

"You're my kid. And you can have cookies and milk if you want 'em."

Billy chuckled. "I guess I do want them."

"Atta boy." Jim excitedly opened up a pack of Oreos and poured himself and Billy some milk.

They'd eaten nearly half the package when they heard someone clear their throat.

They both turned to see Joyce standing in the doorway, her arms folded over her robe.

"Having a late night snack, are we?"

"Sorry." Jim apologized. "Did we wake you?"

"No. I was already up. I went to check Billy's room to see if he'd come home and...here he is with you, eating all the snacks."

"I'll replace the oreos." Jim promised.

"I don't care about the oreos, honey. I'm just glad you're home." She said, smiling at Billy. "I was worried you wouldn't come back, then I wouldn't know if you were safe or taking care of yourself."

Billy frowned. "I didn't mean to worry you. I-I swear I won't do it again."

"I hope not." She approached him and kissed his forehead, then snatched the oreo out of his hand and dipped it in his milk, before shoving the whole cookie into her mouth.

Billy laughed as she strutted away, bidding a quiet goodnight before returning to bed.

"I guess I'd better turn in too." Jim said with a stretch as he stood. "What about you?"

"Yeah. I think I'm gonna do the same."

"Goodnight, kid."

"G'night dad."

They looked at each other wide-eyed. Billy didn't mean to call him dad. Not this soon.

"Sorry was that...that was weird, right?"

"Not to me. Whatever makes you feel comfortable."

They smiled at each other before heading to their rooms.

Billy snickered at the pajama set Joyce had laid out for him on his bed. He hadn't worn a pajama set since he was 8 years old, but the red lounge pants and matching cotton shirt were so soft, and the made bed was even softer.

He didn't want to feel numb anymore. He wanted to feel the comfort of his bed, and the warmth of his loving family.

[markhoffmans-certified-slut]

hii, i was wondering if you could make a art x reader? i would prefer headcanons but anything is fine!! no rush btw <3

Art the Clown x f!reader 

Word count: 1.5K

Notes: Okay, so I technically will be doing a “What it’s like to date Art the Clown” chapter, but this will sort of be in a similar format, if that makes sense. I hope that you enjoy this!! Sorry for the super long wait, I was digging through my asks and saw this one for the first time and I was like “I should do this” 😂

Also, there wasn’t any specification on if you wanted anything smutty as well, so I just kept this one fluffy! 

<>~<>~<>

You met super unconventionally. It was dark out, you were walking home late, and you were wearing a sparkly dress and pretty heels. You were perfect bait for the clown. He assumed that you were leaving a club, a party, etc., but what he hadn’t expected was for you to be so aware of your surroundings. You had heard him, then you saw him, then you fucking bolted. 

Art was so surprised to see the way you ran in the heels that he almost forgot to chase you. 

Almost. 

By time he had caught you, he thought you’d give up. Instead, he got whammed in the head by a loose brick you saw on the ground. His vision went blurry, but he watched you take the heels off quickly before running again. This time you seemed faster than before. For once, he gave up and looked at the sky through blurred vision and let you go.

A day went by, then a week, then a month, before he saw you again. A similar circumstance, but this time you were a bit more disorientated. You wore flats, had a wristlet-purse on, and jeans this time. You were grasping the wall for support, but you were alone. He watched you for a minute, slowly following behind the bushes across the street, remembering before when you had gotten away. 

Did he hold a grudge? Sort of, but he wanted you. To kill? He was unsure. This was the very first time Art had ever seen a pretty girl walking alone and not immediately gotten the urge to stab until she was dead. He waited a minute, trying to decide what to do with his strange emotions, when he realized that the two of you were at the same spot where you had hit him over the head. Truth be told, the rest of that night was slightly blurry for him, and not just because his vision went wonky. 

He was angry, but there was more inside of him than that. Curiosity, a dreaded sense of interest. Nobody had ever gotten away like you had. He wanted to know more about you. he needed to know more about you. 

You were much more coherent the night before. Tonight you were wobbling on your feet. Part of you thought about going back, but you were already more than halfway home. By time you made it to the spot that you had hit that clown over the head, you were too far gone to turn back. Through your still drunken state, you continued to head in the direction of your apartment, holding onto the wall for support. 

That’s when you heard a second set of footsteps right behind you splash in the water. By time you turned around, it was too late. 

He held you in captivity with him for awhile. Occasionally bringing you back an eyeball or a dead mouse as a gift. Sort of like a cat. You would groan in disgust and scoot back against the wall while he sat cross-legged across from you and sent you a deranged smile while he waited for you to take his gift. When you eventually didn’t, Art would move on. 

Slowly, you started to warm up to the strange clown. Never once did he hurt you. Only did he stand or sit there and watch you. It was creepy, sure, but you had a lot to be thankful for. Eventually Art let you out of the chains and showed you around his little workshop-makeshift sleeping area. Did he ever actually sleep? You weren’t sure. 

Time went by fast with Art. Sooner than you thought, you started to actually like the clown. What came after that, you were certain your younger self would have been afraid of and disgusted by. 

Months went by. Eventually you were free to wander the barred up building while he was out. Of course the door was locked from the outside, but truth be told, you were fine staying around here. He started to bring you actual food instead of just scraps he probably found in the dumpster. 

And then, one day, he just left the door unlocked. A test, maybe? You were almost disgusted with yourself, but when the door creaked open when you tried it (mostly out of old habit), you hesitated. Then, you shut the door and went back to the bed you slept on and went to sleep. When Art came back, you could tell he was surprised. 

After that, the rest was history. 

The little gifts Art brought you back started to be less weird. Instead of body parts, dead mice, or metal scraps, he brought you back real food, a bracelet off a victim (shockingly without the arm attached), even a few books to pass the time. 

One day, instead of a wave goodbye, you kissed him on the cheek. You swore you might have seen a hint of embarrassment in his eyes before he turned to leave. 

Years went by quickly. One day Art returned you to your normal life, however he was quick to sneak into your apartment in the middle of the night and start resting with you. However, he trusted you. He allowed you to go back to work, to resume your life as it was before he kidnapped you. To see your friends again and go to bars, but this time the clown wouldn’t be the one stalking you to hurt you. He would follow you almost everywhere you went, watching, waiting for someone to try and hurt you so he could maim them. 

The longer you were with him, the better his gifts continued to get, until one day he brought you back a shiny diamond ring and told you that you could start wearing it (this wasn’t a request). 

Art understands that everybody can’t know who you belong to, but he wants to make sure everybody knows that you belong to someone. 

He doesn’t care how hard this is to explain to your friends. If he sees you without the ring, he finds it and he puts it back on you. 

There’s no reason to fight with him about anything. Art always gets his way in the end. 

Surprisingly, Art really likes dogs and insists on you getting a puppy, even if you’re the one that will have to do all of the training. Art really wants a dog and he shows you which kind to get. However, if you bring home a different type of dog, he would accept that as well. 

Sometimes when Art is sitting beside you, dressed in normal clothes without his clown makeup on, and he has his arm around you and the other resting on the dog, you feel almost normal. 

You never end up actually getting married. The ring is symbolism enough to the both of you. 

When he’s with you, Art slows down on the killing. Mostly because in order to cause midnight chaos, he has to be away from you. And sometimes all he really wants is to hold you while you’re sleeping. 

He’s not entirely sure how you got to him the way you did, but he can’t say he complains. In a way, you hope that maybe Art will one day stop it all together. That he might end up being a normal husband-like-boyfriend-demon-being-thing. 

At the end of the day, Art would choose you over murdering and you would choose him even if he continued with his old ways. 

He loves horror movies and he will always make you watch them with him. If you ever get scared, he’ll make fun of you a little bit, but he will also keep you close and kiss your head. Art likes to watch bloody, gory horror movies, but his favorite is Nightmare on Elm Street. 

He’s seen it over 75 times. 

He falls asleep during regular movies. 

Art is sort of like a guard dog. Every time that something goes bump in the night, even if he’s snoring louder than the devil, he bolts upright and insists on taking a look around. The dog usually goes with him. Because of this, new environments are harder for him to get used to. 

He is like a bottomless pit. Art eats a lot of food. 

Art is terrible at any form of game. He gets annoyed and swats his hand at the air and starts pouting when it gets too hard. Video game, board game, verbal game— it doesn’t matter. He sucks at all of them and 9 times out of 10 will refuse to play. 

He teaches you sign language because he can’t/doesn’t speak. You think it’s funny how he overdoes everything he does when he mime’s it since he can’t talk. 

He loves it when you play along with his miming. Sometimes he pretends that he’s stuck in a box and he likes it when you pretend like you can’t get to him. 

Overall, Art is a shockingly supportive partner. When you’re having a bad day, he’ll ask if he needs to kill someone. He’s a great listener as well. He’ll sit there and hold you and rub your arm while you explain everything that happened. He’s more than willing to sit there for the whole night with you if it would truly help. 

You’re stuck with him for the rest of your life. You can’t ever leave Art. He won’t let you.