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averysmolbear · 1 year

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CW: This features a female or afab reader. There’s talk of their menstrual cycle and all that that includes (albeit not graphically or anything). There’s maybe a pet name or two in there. Reader and unspecified “boyfriend” are both adults in this scenario. It’s also an established relationship with the reader and their boyfriend living together.

A/N: I wrote this because I’m going through it right now and it’s cathartic. I won’t be offended if anyone passes on reading it because of the subject matter. I didn’t include any specific character as the “boyfriend” in this and any characters I tag for it aren't the only characters that you could replace “the boyfriend” with when you’re reading this. I just tagged some of my faves and a few others.

You really should have been prepared for this. You knew it was coming, even if you couldn’t always time your period down to the day. Usually you stocked up in the days before you assumed your period would start but this month you had been so stressed that you hadn’t been paying attention.

You didn’t notice all of the usual signs. Sure, you were maybe a bit more emotional than normal but with everything going on lately, it was easy to assume it was just the stress piling up on you. You dealt with bouts of insomnia regularly as well so that didn’t even register as a sign of what was to come.

Now here you were, laying in bed, curled up in the fetal position — or as close as you could get to it — as you felt the cramps kicking your ass. They weren’t always this bad but this month was clearly not going to be kind to you. You weren’t in tears but you certainly weren’t looking to move any time in the near future.

The problem was that you kind of needed to get out of bed. You moved slowly, uncurling yourself, as you moved to sit on the edge of your bed. You could hear the tv on in the living room but you missed the sound of your boyfriend’s footsteps as he made his way down the hall to pop his head into the bedroom.

“Hey, babe?”

You looked up and forced a smile. After all, you didn’t want to be a bother. You had dealt with this sort of thing for years now. You didn’t want to make him deal with it too.

Your skin, however, was paler than usual and there were dark circles under your eyes. Your boyfriend had noticed you tossing and turning last night which is why he let you sleep in this morning without trying to get you up when he got up. But it was getting later and he had only wanted to see if you were hungry. Now, however, he was worried.

“You feeling okay?” He walked over to sit down next to you on the bed, wrapping an arm around your shoulders when you rested your head on his shoulder. “What can I do to help?”

You looked up and could tell he wasn’t going to take no for an answer. You shrugged and when he nudged you gently, you sighed, giving in.

“I just want to curl up on the couch,” you finally said. “Can you help me?”

His brow furrowed and without you asking, he scooped you up and carried you into the living. He carefully set you down on the couch before standing in front of you with his arms folded across his chest.

“What do you need?”

You started to shake your head but he frowned and you know that putting up a front wouldn’t work. “Can you grab me a glass of water while I run to the bathroom?”

He nodded, already piecing together what might be going on. He watched you until you disappeared down the hall and then he got the water for you as well as some of your favorite snacks, making sure there were more sweet than savory options for you.

When you got back to the living room, you had changed into a pair of his sweatpants, drowning in them but comfortable. He smiled softly and handed you the water and gestured to the table filled with snacks. You softly laughed before taking a couple of pills to help with the pain and swallowing it down with a couple of sips of water.

He pulled you close so you could rest against him while you stretched out a bit on the couch. He handed you his phone, already opened to a delivery app.

“It’s almost noon. Pick something for lunch,” he explained as you looked up at him. “Whatever sounds good to you. And if you need me to run to the store, I can. Whatever you need, okay?”

You nodded, your attention drifting to the phone as you felt your boyfriend press a soft kiss to the top of your head. After picking something to order, you handed the phone back and snuggled in as much as you could, the warmth of your boyfriend’s body helping to soothe some of the pain you felt.

He rested a large hand on your stomach, slipping it innocently under the bottom hem of your shirt. As you glanced up, you saw him looking down at you with a light blush on his cheeks. You happily sighed and scooted just a bit closer to your boyfriend.

You might not feel the best right now but at least you knew he didn’t see you as a bother today. And hopefully a lazy day at his side would help as well. You knew he was going to spend the rest of the day pampering you but today, of all days, you were going to let it happen because you knew you needed it today more than ever.

And sometimes it was nice to be reminded that you weren’t a bother and that your boyfriend would move heaven and earth to make sure you were taken care of.

#tessie writes #cw female or afab reader fic #comfort character x reader #f/o x reader #reiner braun x reader #levi ackerman x reader #eren jeager x reader #armin arlert x reader #jean kirschtein x reader #kunigami rensuke x reader #nagi seishiro x reader #isagi yoichi x reader #shoto todoroki x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #kirishima eijiro x reader #keigo takami x reader

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navigatorsghost · 8 months

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Insomnia is kicking my ass for about the fifth night this week so fuck it, here's a quick polish and post of something short I wrote a while back. Itachi thought this Jashin thing was all in Hidan's head... he didn't know how terribly right he was. (Rated T for Tsukuyomi attempted mind control and torture, plus general macabre themes. Also crossposted to my AO3 Naruto minific collection, see source link.)

~~~

"Fucking try it, asshole-"

"Tsukuyomi!"

Usually, his eyes could pierce the psychic defences of non-Uchiha as effortlessly as a senbon flicked through a shōji. Itachi expected to find himself in whatever Hidan had that passed for a mind, surrounded by thoughts as soft as putty to be moulded. He was already picturing the red sky and tainted moon of the nightmare world, the black-and-white hellscape he favoured for his domain of torment.

He wasn't expecting to fall into a world that was already hell. He wasn't expecting black earth that collapsed into decay beneath his feet, sending him sprawling to wet, uncertain ground. He wasn't expecting the overwhelming reek of blood and death, as thick in his throat as it had been on the night he left Konoha.

He wasn't expecting the great gaunt hand, white bone knuckles breaking through withered black skin, that reached up from the shadows and across half the sky. Wasn't expecting to see that hand close its grip, effortlessly crushing the moon of Tsukuyomi like a ripe fruit to drip blood over its long, clawed fingers.

He wasn't expecting to hear a low, wet whisper of a laugh, followed by a voice like a rotting nightmare that almost playfully murmured: "Oh, you dare."

#Rath writing #Uchiha Itachi #Hidan #Jashin #fuck around find out

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damianosismyking · 4 years

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PART X - [FINAL]

Part I - Part II - Part III - Part IV - Part V - Part VI - Part VII - Part VIII - Part IX

Sitting on the edge of the fence, with his feet kicking against the white wood, Laurent didn’t know what he was feeling.

He knew, but he didn’t know.

He was no longer the stable boy for the deAkielos family. He no longer lived at the ranch. He was still an orphan and there was nothing he could do about this, but somewhere between the main house and the garage and the stables, his brother awaited to take him home to his family that wasn’t his. He would no longer race around the vineyards in warm afternoons or climb trees (much less kiss under them).

There was something in the bittersweetness that made Laurent’s chest ache.

Egeria would become even more of a memory, a more distant one, stored away along with his parents and his old house, his old school, and the books he loved dearly in childhood, long forgotten. The open greenness, the soft breeze, the buzz of the summer… they’d be in the past too. Laurent was going home, though home felt much like here and the place he was supposed to miss – and he did – was foreign.

He always knew anyway; he was never meant to fit anywhere and nowhere was made for him. What difference it made where he lived. There would always be something to miss and something to leave behind.

Like his mother and father. Like Auguste. Damen and Egeria. The ranch, and Pinocchio, his mare. His room with all his toys, his room with all its smells. Arles and Dice.

...

Four days ago, in a charming, luxurious conference room downtown in Dice, at the law firm Damianos works for, Laurent’s uncle signed a settlement.

The alternative would be going to court and risk time in jail, which he was not willing to do.

He signed the agreement that gave back all the family money and properties he appropriated (the word the counselor used), an agreement to confess he did intervene with the hearings about Laurent’s custody, an agreement to make sure he would issue an apology, an agreement to compensate for the defamation of Auguste, something Laurent had no knowledge about prior to the moment it was mentioned.

Auguste sat still through all of it blank-faced. He said nothing for an hour and so Laurent did the same. He did not answer to their uncle’s provocative statements, not even when they were directed at him, and soon they died down.

The glares he risked to Auguste were never responded and he stopped trying to give them; the glares risked to Damianos were always responded with a curt nod, a twist of the lips or the averting of the eyes and so Laurent looked often.

In that same luxurious conference room that had to be the fanciest place Laurent has ever been to, he kissed Damianos.

It was after his uncle and his attorneys left, and the documents were signed, and Auguste excused himself to go to the restroom for a moment. They were close and Laurent asked what else was there for them to do after this, to which Damianos responded, ‘nothing.’

Damianos told him they won and he had been smiling then, so Laurent forgot, for the flick of a second, that he couldn’t – he shouldn’t – and he kissed Damianos on the lips, the way he thought of doing every day. The way he hadn’t done in weeks.

At first, Laurent argued it to himself it was a mindless, giddy reaction to the good news – which he knew was not the truth. Mindless, giddy reactions had nothing to deal with the way he half-ran his way around the big oak table and launched himself in Damianos’ arms.

At second, he argued that he did it because now he could afford to have a crush on Damianos, with the money of the settlement. He was not wealthy – or at least not as wealthy as Damianos – but he could afford to have more than old clothes, hand-me-down books and second-hand electronics.

At third he remembered that Damen was still, in spite of riches, too much for him, so Laurent left before any of them could say anything.

And they didn’t talk about it.

Laurent didn’t know what he was feeling. Or he did, but there was no way he could put a name to it.

...

Laurent said goodbye to the view on his way down to the stables where part of his baggage waited.

He said goodbye to the vineyards, to the stone path that led to the main house, the dirt path he took to go up the hill with his horse, among thick ivy brushes and wide trees. He whispered goodbye to his favorite hiding spots, to the tire swing that had been there ever since Egeria was little girl. The white fence.

He would have given his farewell to Theomedes, Kastor and Jokaste as well, but they left to go spend a season in Ios, the housekeeper told him.

The sun was setting. Laurent delayed enough to be able watch it one final time. By this time tomorrow, he would watch the sunset from his room in Auguste’s home.

His home. With Auguste and his wife, whose name Laurent kept forgetting. And the kid whose name Laurent could not forget if he tried.

He crossed the fence that delimited the stable area dreading to get to his things and hold conversation with Auguste, who was more excited than Laurent was able to stomach right now. He thought nothing of the relief that bloomed in his chest when he saw there was no one there. Only the horses and a pile of boxes bigger than Laurent expected it to be.

Laurent said goodbye to the horses one by one, and lingered when it was Pinocchio’s turn, his forehead glued to her nose, scratching the back of her ear, urging her to understand he was not leaving her on purpose or because he loved her any less than always.

Had Laurent been more attentive or had his continuous mumble been less intense or sniffs less audible, he perhaps would have noticed that someone approached the stables and witnessed his passionate goodbye to the horse.

“I’ll take good care of her,” Damianos said to his back and Laurent startled. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean – She’ll be in good hands, I promise.”

Laurent runs a mindless hand over the front of his shirt and his jeans to compose. “I know. All of the stable staff is very attentive.”

Damen smiled meekly, shaking his head in a nearly imperceptible motion. “I will tend to her personally.”

Damen was just standing there, one shoulder propped to the wooden post in the middle of the stable. His hair was wet and tousled, disheveled by the wind on his way down. He wore sweatpants low on his hips and Laurent was not looking at the way it fit him, cling to him and shaped him everywhere. His t-shirt was tight around his torso and biceps. His lips were red, the way they usually were after he took long, steaming showers, so hot Laurent himself was never able to stay through, or his skin would burn.

He committed this vision of Damianos to memory. The careless, domestic, natural view of him that Laurent had not appreciated enough in the past.

“Where is Auguste?” Damen asked.

Laurent shrugged. “I think he is down in the garage.”

“Do you need help taking your things to the car?”

Laurent shook his head. His throat felt too tight to speak, his mind too clouded to think of words, his heart to heavy to bear say what he had been avoiding – the goodbye he was not able to give.

They simply stood where they were, boring their eyes on each other, lulled by neighs and huffs and hooves.

“I like what you did with your hair by the way,” Damen said, pointing awkwardly. “It looks nice. Short.”

“Thank you,” Laurent said, an involuntary hand picking at the short strands that tickled his nape.

More nothing. Laurent knows what he is avoiding and knows better yet that it is unavoidable, and still he can’t make himself say it.

Damen is still there if he doesn’t say it. If he stall just a little longer, he is still part of the stable staff, he still lives in the room a few feet down in this same building, he will still see Damen tomorrow.

He can’t stall.

“I’m very thankful for all that you…” he was saying.

Damen picked the same exact moment to say, “Is there no way for…”

They stopped. Both of them. Eyes on each other, intently. Is there no way for what, Laurent was about to say, when Damen said, “You go first.”

Laurent drew in a sharp breath. “I’m very thankful for all that you and your family have done for me.”

Damen’s face fell along his shoulders. For a moment before he caught himself, Damen seemed utterly disappointed by the words that came out Laurent’s mouth and Laurent wanted to tell him it was not the first time something like that happened.

“You keep saying that” Damen said.

“It’s the truth.”

Damen nodded, shifting on his feet. He assumed a more guarded posture, with his arms crossed in front of his chest. His eyes were no longer on Laurent too, but on his feet with flip flops.

Laurent’s mind took him back to the fancy conference room, four days ago, to the way Damen cradled his head, his soft, soft sigh when he melted into the kiss barely a moment before Laurent came back to his senses and pulled away. Laurent had not spent a second to watch the way Damen’s features changed before he was out the door, punching the elevator bottom.

“You were saying something as well,” Laurent said.

Once more, Damen nodded. “Is there,” he looked back at Laurent, “No way forward for us?”

“You mean if I’m going back to your bed?” Laurent said. It is not as cold as he intended it to be, almost playful instead. If he let himself think of it, he sounded hurt, but it was unlikely it was obvious to anyone else.

Damen took a step forward, unsure what to do with his hands without the post to lean against. For good measure, he took another one, still too far to reach. “I wish,” he started and spared a moment to recalibrate the words, “I wish I had done things differently. That I made it clear how much you mean to me.”

It was Laurent’s turn to look down at dusty boots, dirt and lost hay. “Damen.” Stop.

“You were never… to me, you were never just a hook up. I should have told you that.”

You should have. I wish you did. But would that have made any difference? “It wasn’t really… about that.” Wasn’t it? What would have changed for Laurent if Damen told Laurent he meant more than the fuck of the month?

“Not exclusively, at least,” he finally added.

Damen was still walking towards him and if Laurent was a braver man, he would meet him halfway. Laurent was never brave.

“What was it about then?” Damen said. He paused and his feet vacillated with him. He was more unsure. “Do you… not care? Did you not want to get involved?”

Laurent’s heart dropped. It’s not that, he wanted to say, how could you ever think that? When Laurent took too long, Damen said, “I just want to understand,” and it sounded nearly as a plead.

“You were my boss, Damen,” Laurent said. “We were never the same. There was no way it – we could make it work.”

Auguste came to mind then. Was he coming back? Where was he? Laurent should be looking for him, taking his boxes down to the garage, loading the truck Damianos was kind enough to rent to make the move easier, getting in the car, listening to Auguste talk about his family and how Laurent was going to love the new town they are living in.

Laurent should be thinking about that. About going to college, getting to know his brother again; about the bookstore Auguste was sure Laurent was going to love, he huge public library just two blocks down in their neighborhood. About going back to the real world and becoming a citizen of it again, about how it would feel not to be sheltered and hiding any longer.

But Damen was there with huge, hopeful eyes and Laurent.

He wanted him. He wanted. He basked in how much Damen still seemed to want him too.

He wanted Damen to ask him to stay, and to tell him he was stupid for going away.

“And now?” Damen said.

“Now what?” Laurent needed him to say it. He did not dare to hope.

“I know you have a lot on your plate. I don’t want to steal you from your brother, but,” he was finally there, where Laurent could reach him, “We could start over. Fresh,” he said.

It felt like Laurent had been holding his breath for weeks, and now he could finally breath.

Yes, he meant to say, but the words stayed inside.

“You will always be welcome in here,” Damen continued, his thumb caressing Laurent’s cheekbone, his breath brushing softly, tenderly against Laurent’s face, “This ranch is… it can be home, to you. If you want.”

Laurent gulped through his dry throat and smiled, letting go of pretense. Even if he could, he would not have kept his guard up. Damen’s eyes on him were expectant, eager for Laurent’s reply.

There was a lot to consider then. What it meant, to start over, what it was that they were together – properly together – and what changed. What remained the same. Where to start when what they had was not new and yet a complete novelty.

What would Egeria think? What will Theomedes say?

“I’d like that,” Laurent said instead, excitement burning his chest. “I’d like that very much.”

Leaning in, Damen kissed him and for the first time, Laurent considered that it could work.

And Laurent knew exactly how to feel about that.

The end uwu

Read it on AO3

#StableBoy!Laurent AU #captive prince #fic #fanfic #lamen #laurent of vere #laurent #Damianos of akielos #Damen #damianos #if i tell you what took me 4 months to write was the final dialogue #and that i had this dialogue drafted somewhere in my tablet for three of these 4 months #and that i wrote it while insomnia was kicking my ass #AND FORGOT ABOUT IT COMPLETELY #IF I TELL U GUYS THIS #WILL YOU BELIEVE ME???#BECAUSE THAT'S WHAT HAPPENED #anyway #im happy this is over #i bet the five of you who have been waiting for a year for it to be over are ALSO HAPPY IT'S OVER #thank you for all the likes and the comments and the kudos and the comments on tags #thank you for being patient and lovely and coming all this way #thank you for engaging;;; holy shit i never expected more than like;; 2 notes per chapter #you are all lovely and cool & neat #i bet yall smell good too #IT'S DONE I FINISHED IT #thank you for reading lovelies <3 #my writing

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honeypiehotchner · 4 years

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Satan’s Waterfall (Hotch x Fem!Reader) -- one shot

I couldn’t think of a name for this to save my life, but Satan’s waterfall is literally what I call my period so... (Also this is 100% self-insert because my period was from actual HELL yesterday)

I wrote this instead of doing my homework. Enjoy xx

Word count: 2.4k

Warnings: SMUT! period sex in the shower, “good girl” is said many times, Daddy kink (a lil), slight size kink (it’s inevitable with him), you and Hotch are newly married (I wrote “husband” organically and kept it)

It’s the second day of your period.

The first day is always the worst. The cramps are so severe that you’re nauseated (sometimes actually to the point of puking your guts out) and dizzy, freezing but somehow sweating, hungry but in too much pain to bring yourself to eat more than some crackers, and in desperate need of chocolate or coffee -- even though both of those things make everything else a thousand times worse.

You’re on birth control -- which was Aaron’s first question when he witnessed your period for the first time, completely on accident because you forgot you invited him over when your period was scheduled to hit. So, needless to say, it was maybe your fourth date night ever with your now-husband, and he had to hold your hair back as you puked. You had meant to reschedule that night, but you honestly weren’t feeling too bad until halfway through the movie the two of you decided to watch.

Regardless, birth control helps regulate your period and put it on a schedule, but so far it hasn’t done much to help the pain. Although, you used to pass out, and you don’t anymore, so maybe birth control has helped in a slight way.

Aaron doesn’t think it has at all. He still worries every single month, threatening to take time off of work (at least on the first day) to be with you, but you always tell him not to. You essentially threaten to become an unsub if he doesn’t take his ass to work, but he doesn’t find the joke as funny as you do.

Sometimes he’ll stay home because he’ll wake up and you’ll be in a shivering mess on the bathroom floor, or wide-awake next to him in bed (did anyone say period-induced insomnia?), or groaning to yourself quietly on the couch, having been there for hours so as not to disturb him.

Which is how yesterday went, actually, so that’s why he’s not home today because you told him if he stays home again to coddle you, you might become a fuming toddler.

Thankfully (but unfortunately for him), Chief Strauss called a meeting, so he had no choice but to go to work.

The second days aren’t even that bad. You’re still basically bed-ridden (or couch-ridden, at least, because the TV is in the living room), but you’re not puking and you’re not dizzy. You occasionally sweat like crazy when a wave of cramps comes, but nothing like yesterday.

You’ve showered, changed into new sweatpants and one of Aaron’s old t-shirts, had breakfast and lunch, and you’ve even done a load of laundry (mainly because you bled through the sheets last night). You’re having a much better day.

But, because it’s still that time of the month, it isn’t a great day because you’re still cramping. And lucky you, a bad wave hits right when Aaron walks in from work.

“I told you to let me stay today,” he says gently, pushing the hair back from your sweaty forehead.

“These are nothin’,” you whine, reaching out for his hand to hold anyway. “They’ll be gone soon.”

“You’re pale. Have you eaten?”

“Mhm, breakfast and lunch,” you nod, letting your eyes slip closed when the cramps ease. You feel your heating pad getting cold. It must’ve turned off. You start fumbling around for the controller, but Aaron beats you to it, turning it back on.

“That’s good,” he says. “What about water?”

“Oh, oops,” you chuckle. “I had one glass this morning.”

“And?”

“Anddd coffee.”

“Y/N…” He sighs. “What have I told you?”

“Yeah, yeah, I need to drink extra water when I’m like this. But here’s my thing: I’m suffering enough already, why make me suffer more by making me drink water?”

“Because it’s good for you,” he mutters, standing to fill a glass. “And you’re drinking more tonight. I don’t care if you’re up peeing all night--”

“I’ll wake you up every damn time I do.”

“Gladly,” he smirks, returning with the glass. “Come on, up. Drink.”

Begrudgingly, you sit up, muttering curses under your breath because now your back is cold which means you’re hurting more. Wordlessly, Aaron lifts the heating pad and holds it to your back while you drink some water.

“Good girl,” he says, taking the empty glass from you and sitting it on the coffee table.

“Don’t say that to me,” you grumble, already laying back down and grabbing a blanket, tucking it under your chin.

“Why not?” He asks, smoothing your hair again, smiling when you close your eyes.

“Because it gives me thoughts.”

“Thoughts?”

You open your eyes a little. “Thoughts.”

Aaron chuckles when you close your eyes again, effectively hiding from him. “Honey pie, you’re going to have to tell me what thoughts you’re talking about.”

“You know what thoughts I’m talking about,” you breathe. “Sexy thoughts.”

“Ahh, sexy thoughts,” he laughs.

“But I can’t have those right now.”

“Why not?”

“Hello?” You open your eyes, giving him a look. “It’s the time of Satan’s waterfall?”

“Satan’s-- Okay, just because you’re on your period, doesn’t mean we can’t have sex. It might make you feel better.”

“Oh, orgasms do, yes. I’ve had two today.”

He raises his eyebrows.

“Don’t give me that look. My issue is, I want you inside me when you call me a good girl.”

“I still can be.”

You scrunch your nose. “Too messy. I just washed the sheets.”

“Not in bed,” Aaron squeezes your hand. “We have a shower.”

You quirk an eyebrow. “Is my husband into period sex?”

He laughs loudly. “I’ve always thought about it, but you’re always in so much pain, I didn’t want to ask.”

“We’ve done worse things than have sex while I’m bleeding.”

“Yeah, but…” He lifts your hand to kiss your knuckles. “I never want to hurt you.”

You can’t help but grab his face and kiss him then, too overcome with love for him to stop yourself. His care, his tenderness. You’ve asked him to throw you around like a literal ragdoll before, and yet he’s still worried about hurting you.

“You know I’ll tell you,” you whisper, stealing another kiss. “You never hurt me. At least not in ways I don’t like.”

He groans into your mouth. “Time for a shower.”

“Already?” You giggle, wrapping your arms around his neck.

He lifts you from the couch and guides your legs around his torso, all the while keeping his lips on yours. He digs his fingers into your thighs and you squeal, allowing him to slip his tongue into your mouth.

You have no idea how he manages to get to the bathroom without knocking into anything, but you’re not questioning it.

He sets you down and you start ripping off your clothes, and he joins you after turning the shower on.

“Someone’s excited,” he chuckles, feeling your fingers on his belt. All you have on are your panties, but he’s still got pants on which is unfair.

“Hey, you suggested it, so I want it.”

“Okay, okay,” he tosses his belt out into the bedroom, laughing because you’re already unbuttoning and unzipping him. “You are eager.”

“I’m horny,” you correct him. “And it’s your fault.”

“I know, sweet girl,” he kisses your forehead. “But I’ll take care of it.”

“You better.”

While he’s busy finishing undressing, you kick your panties away and hop in the shower, adjusting the temperature.

Aaron steps in a moment later, a stupid grin on his face. “Hi.”

“Hi yourself,” you reply, relaxing under the hot water. “This feels good.”

His face softens. “Are you hurting again?”

“Not really,” you roll your shoulders. “Don’t get shy on me now.”

“I’m not,” he promises, rubbing his hands up and down your arms. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Trust me, I’ll be fine,” you tug him closer, tilting your head to accept his kiss.

He starts slow, wanting to gauge your reactions before he does anything too drastic. He rubs your clit gently, waiting until he hears a moan before he continues. When his tongue slips into your mouth, one finger sinks into your core.

It’s different, that he’ll admit. You feel warmer and wetter, but you’re definitely not in any pain. Your moans are too loud for that.

He dips his head to your neck, suckling there, letting you thread your fingers in his hair while he slips a second finger into you. You gasp a little too loud and a little too suddenly, so he stops, but quickly starts again when your fingernails dig into his scalp in protest.

“Are you okay?” He mumbles against the hickey on your neck.

“More,” you whimper.

He scissors his fingers, wrapping his free arm around your waist to keep you steady. The added pressure of three of his fingers buried inside you nearly makes your knees buckle. Everything about him is so big and it makes you weak when you even as much as think about it.

He moves back to your lips, kissing you deeply, pausing only to ask, “How does that feel, little one?”

“M’gonna cum,” is your only reply, your eyes squeezed shut.

“Go ahead,” he whispers. “As much as you want, sweet girl. This is all about making you feel good. There you go.” He feels the first flutterings of your walls. He spreads his fingers slightly, knowing you love the stretch, when his fingers press right into your g-spot. “Come on, honey. Let go.” He moves his thumb to your clit, rubbing small circles before spreading his fingers once more, shooting you over the edge.

You cling to his shoulders, nearly biting him from the force of it. Everything is so much more sensitive when you’re on your period and you knew that, but it’s different when it’s him. It always is.

“That’s my good girl,” he murmurs, easing you to the ending waves of your orgasm. “How was that?”

“Amazing, do you even need to ask?” You laugh, kissing him. “Can you please get inside me?”

“Please what?”

“Please, Daddy.” You bat your eyelashes for good measure, even though you know he wouldn’t tease you, not right now. He just wanted to hear you say it.

“Of course,” he steals another kiss before finally taking his fingers from you. Wordlessly, he washes the blood away, and you should’ve known he wouldn’t give two shits about this.

And you’re right, he doesn’t. The sight of blood doesn’t phase him anymore, especially not your period because it’s natural. And right now he’s too worried about making you feel good to even bother pretending to be grossed out by it.

He’s already hard, so you can’t help but reach down and stroke him, grinning when he groans loudly.

Before you can blink, though, he has you up in his arms and against the wall, your legs already settling around his hips.

“Tell me if I hurt you,” he says again, looking into your eyes. “Okay?”

“Yes, I promise,” you assure him.

Accepting that answer, he drops his hand to guide himself inside of you, moving as slow as possible -- which you appreciate, even if you do want to be fucked. But you’ve never had sex on your period before, not even with previous partners, so you weren’t sure if having a dick inside you would actually feel good.

But damn it does.

You know part of it is because it’s Aaron, your husband, your best friend. His dick is good on a normal day, but when you’re sensitive from your period, it’s even better.

“Oh my fucking God.”

“What?” He stops moving, leaning his head back to look at you. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you laugh, threading your fingers through his hair again. “Nothing. It feels good.”

He smirks, rocking his hips slowly, letting you take more of him. “Feels good?” He asks, and you nod. “Is it wrong of me to enjoy this?” He whispers, going deeper. “You’re so warm.”

“Harder, please.”

He slams his hips forward, nipping at your neck when you whine loudly. “Are you gonna cum again?”

You nod your head lazily, locking your ankles behind his back, arching your back, forcing him deeper. A groan stutters in his throat when he feels his head teasing your cervix.

You like that normally, but his paranoia has him pulling back. “Are you--”

“If you don’t shut up and fuck me.”

He doesn’t question you after that, especially not with the lethal look you had in your eyes.

With no more hesitations, Aaron finally gives in. Every thrust is deep, yet you still push your hips up, trying to take even more. He’s never seen you like this, this greedy and almost animalistic in the way you’re chasing your orgasm.

He lets you guide him, staying still when you pull him in as deep as he can go and hold him there. He nearly explodes a few times, having to stay still while your walls pulsate around him.

Soon you’re quite literally thrown into your second orgasm when Aaron’s thumb rubs your clit as he pushes in deep, staying there, letting you squirm until he tells you to let go, and you do.

“Good girl,” he whispers, kissing your cheek lovingly. “That’s my good girl.”

Once your orgasm has settled down, he carefully lifts you off of him, setting you back on your feet. A puzzled look crosses your face.

“What?”

“You didn’t…”

He smiles. “I told you, I wanted to make you feel good.”

“And you did, but--”

“It’s okay, sweet girl.” He kisses your forehead once before turning to rinse off his dick, but you’re not giving up that easily.

You sneak your hands around his waist, resting your cheek on the middle of his back while you swat his hands out of the way.

“Little girl...what do you think you’re doing?”

“Making you feel good,” you murmur, gently stroking him.

It doesn’t take long for him to cum with a muffled cuss word under his breath. You sigh happily against his back, letting go of his dick to hug him instead.

Aaron turns around to gather you in his arms, moving forward slightly so your face isn’t directly under the water. “Is someone tired?”

You shake your head, even though you practically bury yourself in his chest. “Just content.”

“Feeling better?”

“Much,” you giggle. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” he kisses your forehead. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

#aaron hotchner #hotch #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner smut #hotch x fem!reader #hotch x reader #hotch x you #hotch x y/n #hotch smut #criminal minds smut #criminal minds #aaron hotchner oneshot #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic

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spideyspeaches · 4 years

Text

Pretty lies (ugly truths)

A/N: This was something I wrote as soon as I heard Clean also that was 2019 and @peterspideysstuff made me do it smh. I’m proud of it so don’t let this flop 🙂

WC: 3.3k+

Warnings: Please read these before going ahead- mentions of CSA (Skip Wescott), brief description of dissociation.

Pairing: Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

Masterlist || Taglist

It was the little things that you noticed in Peter. He was your closest friend ever, the best person to have ever entered your life next to Tony Stark, the man who had adopted you the moment he laid his eyes on you.

You always noticed when it came to Peter, the way he jumped around when he was in a happy mood, or when he scored a hundred in chemistry and he would flail his hands in the air and hug you as tightly as he could without crushing your bones with his super strength. You had met him when you were both eight- he had come with his uncle Ben to tour Stark Industries, and you both had snuck out to eat some pizza while the adults talked.

You would never forget that day, because it was the day the two of you became inseparable. He would often visit you since then, in Pepper’s penthouse, and you always cherished those visits. He shared everything in his life with you, he was an open book to you, a dog eared page that you could open with a flick of your fingers.

Coming back from the dead post blip was the final straw. No one could separate you two, and when May and Peter had finally agreed to live in the Lake House (only during the weekends though, since it was far from his school), it was the life of a party for You.

"And you three, don't wreck the house and if I found out that the kitchen is on fire-" Pepper said, fixing Peter's shirt and Morgan's hair at the same time, giving you a stern look.

May was out and it was only the three of you- You, Morgan and Peter, while Tony and Pepper went out for a vacation for the weekend.

They had trusted you to babysit Morgan, well You more than Peter.

“We will be fine Pep! Don’t worry I won’t let them burn down the kitchen, or let Gerald eat the goji berries. Now shoo!” You snickered, pushing Pepper with your hands on her shoulder, before she gave you one more look over her shoulder.

“Oh and if you need anything, Kyle will be here soon, you can ask him anything okay?” She said, making you stop in your tracks.

“Kyle? Who’s that?” Peter asked, shuffling to adjust Morgan, who was perched on his shoulder with her head buried in his neck, her soft snores barely audible.

“He’s Morgan’s babysitter, we can trust him honey, he’s been babysitting her since she was one.” Pepper said calmly, her eyes stiff as she wearily looked at Peter, her eyes flitting to You for a moment. They had all been weary of introducing you to change when you first came back, afraid what the change around you would cause you to break further. It ultimately lead to a heart to heart with Doctor Tumnus and You and Peter, one breakdown from each of you, and lots of cuddles.

“I thought he was in college?” You smiled, lifting your brows.

“You know about him?” He asked, his voice small. You didn’t answer him, choosing to nod your head instead.

Looking at Peter, you felt him stiffen, his shoulders tensing like the way they would whenever he was stressed or overthinking, his grip on Morgan tightening as if to protect her from whatever danger was about to come their way. Your heart sped at his look of frustration, his lip forming a thin line as he pursed them, your own confusion growing.

“Wh-why do we need him? I mean, Y/n/n and I can look after each other right?” He gulped, not meeting Pepper’s or your eyes. Morgan took that moment to wake up sniffing under her breath as she lifted her small head from his shoulder.

“Mommy is Kyle coming over?” She asked innocently, not noticing Peter as he gulped. You gripped his biceps, silently asking why he was acting the way he was.

Peter had always been shy when it came to strangers, choosing to stay in the circle of his own people. Heck he had taken almost months to warm up to you.

“Yes honey, he will be here soon, now, be nice for Peter and Y/N okay?” She cooed, kissing Morgan’s forehead and smiling at the little girl, grimacing as your dad honked from behind, shouting to make it fast.

“Okay mommy, have fun!” Morgan smiled sleepily, going back to her position on Peter’s neck, lifting her thumb to suck on. Holding her small hand, Peter softly brought it down to stop her from sucking on her finger. You smiled at how gentle he was with her, momentarily forgetting his ambiguous behavior at the mention of Morgan’s babysitter.

“So, wanna wreck the house?” You joked in an effort to dissipate the growing tension, watching the retreating figure of Pepper as she waved from the car. You waved back, smiling as you leant against the door jamb.

“Sure.” He said absentmindedly, holding his palm against Morgan’s head, tucking her in more firmly.

“Are you okay Pete?” You asked, scrunching your brows when he clenched his teeth, looking at you with seething eyes. You understood at that moment, why criminals feared him as your own heart clenched. He may be a doe eyed shy boy, but he could be angry when he wanted to.

“Can everyone stop fucking asking me that!?” He bellowed, looking at Morgan to make sure she hadn’t woken up. Walking to her bedroom, he tucked her in before keeping the door to her bedroom ajar, turning towards you,

“What’s crawled and died up your ass Parker?” You clenched, folding your hands as if in defence. You were getting worried, his behavior was not him. He was a naturally cheerful and chatty person, talking the ears off of the person who happened to be in his vicinity, now he was just, closed off.

“It’s nothing okay, it’s- it’s nothing. None of your business.” He said, walking away, leaving you with your jaw dropped and hands up in the air.

“Damn straight it’s my business! Why have you been acting weird ever since Pepper mentioned Morgan’s babysitter?” You snarled, shoulders sagging when you saw him tense up once more.

“Just, leave it alright?” He said, cursing your observation and not meeting your eyes before he turned the kitchen lights off, strutting to his bedroom. It was late at night and Pepper had wanted to have an early start, so they had decided to lodge at the tower before leaving for the trip.

“Alright, you don’t wanna talk am I right? See if I care next time!” You shouted pettily, huffing and moving to your bedroom, shuffling inside the covers, tears of frustration brimming your eyes as you tried to wash away the look Peter had given you from your brain.

***

Sleep didn’t come easy to Peter.

It wasn’t anything new for him, Ben had always said that his mind was like a whirlpool of thoughts- they churned at a very high speed and impared him from sleeping. But his insomnia had been causing problems as of late. Ever since he was little and his parents died, he had been prone to nightmares. Back then, Uncle Ben and Aunt May would do everything in their power to soothe him each time he had a bad dream.

Back then, when he was just a little boy, his uncle and aunt would snuggle up on either side of him and hold him until he fell asleep. Ben would sing with his gruff, slightly out of pitch but soothing voice, while aunt May would scratch the back of his ears, a sweet spot. It was the little gestures that reminded him of his childhood. The good parts of his childhood.

He tossed around in the bed, rolling his eyes to do a once over of his bedroom- the one that Pepper had designed when he had- when he had blipped along with You and three and a half million others. The word felt foreign on his tongue- why was such a catastrophic event named something as insignificant and fickle as “the blip”?

Scrunching his eyes shut, he groaned, tossing and turning around his bed. Heaving a frustrated sigh, he pulled at the bedsheets, kicking the covers off his feet as if he were five.

Peter was raised a city boy, living in the heart of New York, where nothing was really silent. Even before he gained his spidey powers, New York was never silent for him- the nightly noises of sirens and noisy neighbours was a constant in his life, so the sudden silence of living in the woods- where the only source of noise was Morgan and Tony in the morning and crickets chirping in the night was alarming.

Finally giving up, he decided to heave himself off the bed, shuffling his foot until he found the bunny slippers you had given him as a gag gift. Hovering his hands on the doorknob, he twisted it as slightly as he could, wincing when he heard the screeching noise of it twisting, as if it wanted to be as loud as it could just to piss him off.

Walking into the kitchen, he looked at the digital clock on his way, the red numbers glaring that it was well past three am into his retinas.

The room was dark, only illuminated by the small LED light in the garden. Picking up a glass, he looked over his shoulder to see if he had woken You or Morgan. Sighing when he heard your and Morgan’s minuscule snores (perks of having enhanced hearing), he opened the tap, filling the water in the glass before chugging it all up in one go.

“Fuck.” He muttered, slamming the glass down and wished the helpless feeling would go away. Ever since he heard the words come out of Pepper’s mouth, he couldn't think straight, all his thoughts strayed to him. He who had hurt Peter, he who was out of his life.

But who was he kidding? It was as if the universe was laughing at him by tossing another fuckery at his face, the ghost of his past lingering in his brain enough to cover the memories in a thin sheen of dust.

"Pete?" Your voice startled him, making him nearly drop the glass in his hand had it not been for his reflexes, "is that you?"

Your voice was heavy with sleep, fatigue evident as you appeared in his line of sight. Looking at him with squinting eyes as you flicked the light switch on.

"Yeah, just uh… thirsty. Wanted water."

“You have a water bottle on your bedside.”

He stayed silent, clenching his jaw as he looked at you. Biting his lips, he suppressed a chuckle as you failed to suppress a yawn, scrunching your eyes. You had a bad case of bed head, the strands of your hair all over your face. You were wearing your infamous strawberry pajamas, the shirt hanging off your shoulders. His eyes softened, you looked so young, all he wanted to do was smother you in a blanket and protect you from everything.

His gut twisted at the thought of protecting. He was supposed to be protecting Peter too.

“I can hear you thinking.” You said, your hands folded under your chest.

“So this Kyle guy, you know him?”

“Peter, you haven’t even met him, why do you hate him so much?” You sighed, rolling your eyes and wrapping your hands around his waist, laying your head against his shoulder blades.

“I- I don’t hate him! I just want to make sure-”

“Make sure what Peter?” You asked softly.

He gasped as memories flashed in front of him- that night when He had introduced himself to little Peter when He had come to babysit him.

Eight year old Peter had just wanted a friend. And Skip Wescott was a friend to him. He was cool and played games with Peter, showed him cool new science tricks and watched cartoons.

Aunt May and Uncle Ben were not home, they were late for work. Skip had been sending him small smiles the whole time.

“You want to see the big boy stuff now Einstein? I know you’re old enough.” Skip said, shifting uncomfortably close to Peter.

Peter’s smile fell off as he saw Skip’s eyes flash dangerously. And at that moment, he didn’t want Skip. He didn’t want to be friends with him any more and he wanted Aunt May.

“Nothing, go back to sleep.” He said, a lump forming in his throat, clutching the glass hard enough for cracks to appear on it. You left him be that night.

***

He didn’t notice when he fell asleep after that, the fear creeping up his spine in spite of knowing that Skip won’t be able to hurt him anymore- he was in jail, Ben had made sure of it. Yet he kept flashing back to his lowest points, when he had cried so loud, yet no one heard a thing.

In the end, he had won the case, yet the scars had remained fresh. His win felt futile, a defeat in spite of winning.

The smell of blueberry waffles invaded his senses first, his eyelids cracking open against the force of sleep. Scrunching his eyes, he let the world slowly come into motion, the walls coming into focus one by one.

He was startled into complete wakefulness by the sudden flurry of mass that had jumped on him, panic settling before noticing that it was just Morgan, her excited rambling bringing him back.

“H-hey Momo! You seem excited huh? Good morning to you too.” He laughed, inhaling as she jumped on his stomach.

“Petey you have to brush your teeth! Come down fast because I have a surprise for you.” She giggled, snuggling into his chest and getting up just as fast, pulling him with her tiny hand.

“I see you have a handy alarm clock.” You said from the doorway, smirking when you saw him

“A very cute alarm clock.” Peter cooed, pinching Morgan’s cheeks and leaving a big sloppy kiss on her cheek, making the little girl giggle, “Wait if you’re both here then who’s in the kitchen? Did May come back? Or is it Happy?”

“No May will be in Cali for a little longer, Happy visited her there so they’re having an impromptu vacation.” You smirked, knowing how much it irked Peter whenever you told him about May and Happy’s escapades. He rolled his eyes, scrunching his nose in disgust, just as you had expected him to.

“I didn’t need to know that, but whatever, who is it though?”

“Kyle’s here! He’s cooking waffles cause I told him Petey likes them very much! It was supposed to be a surprise but Y/n/n ruined it.” The little girl pouted, glaring at you with her adorable brown eyes. She looked exactly like Tony when she did that.

He felt a pang in his chest, an unearthed nervousness taking residence as he felt his stomach drop. He pulled Morgan closer, feeling your eyes on him as you tried to gauge his expression.

“Yeah.” You said simply, urging Morgan to come to you as he got up from the bed.

Walking downstairs after cleaning up, he stiffly sat on the table, watching as a short but lean Blond man cooked waffles.

“Hey kiddo! You must be Peter, Morgan and Y/N talk about you all the time!” The guy- Kyle probably, said chirpily. Peter clenched his fists under the table, noticing the look you were giving him.

“Hi.” He said shyly, ducking his head so he won’t have to see him.

“Well they told me you’re shy too.” He said, a smile evident in his voice.

“Y-Yeah.”

“Aw Pete don’t be rude! At least look at his face.” You joked, hitting him slightly in the ribs.

“Sorry I just, that smells delicious.” He smiled, finally looking up to blue eyes staring at him. He shifted nervously, sitting up straight.

“Thank you.”

He felt uneasy under his gaze, bringing the glass of water to his lips to avoid making eye contact.

“How long is he gonna stay here?” Peter whispered to you, avoiding to look inside the kitchen where he was cooking lunch with Morgan- the girl was perched on the countertop with her legs dangling and swinging.

You and Peter had retreated to the AV room after breakfast, opting to watch a movie instead of doing homework. Well it was You who had dragged Peter, because you knew he had already done it before coming.

“He’ll make dinner and go, again, why?” You asked him, fisting some popcorn and throwing them in your mouth.

“It’s nothing.”

You let it go again.

Dinner was an awkward affair. He couldn’t help but let his gaze linger onto him, how he interacted with Morgan. She seemed genuinely happy, jumping around the house till she was tired, enjoying as he lifted her up and played airplane with her.

He really didn’t want to think about it, but his spidey sense kept buzzing a headache in the bottom of his skull. He tried to distract himself, opening his chemistry text book to read ahead of class, but the worlds kept floating around as he saw you and Morgan laugh at something Kyle had said.

“Come on Einstein! It won’t hurt for you to keep that textbook and play with us eh?” Kyle said, winking at him as Morgan laughed, making grabby hands at him so he would come.

You want to see the big boy stuff now Einstein?

No, this wasn’t Skip. This was Kyle, Morgan’s babysitter.

He knew the comment was noncommittal, but he felt his heart race, the world zooming in and out of focus as it got harder to breathe, his book swimming in his hands. He felt floaty, the tingling in his hands intensifying as he felt someone’s hands on his back, dizzily startling him into reality.

“Hey, hey take a breath kid, it’s alright. Deep breaths.” A soothing voice said, cold sweat breaking as he dropped his textbooks. Tears ran down his face without meaning to as he pursed his lips. Instead of saying anything, he sat up and ran into his room.

He could hear you running after him, Kyle asking “Is he okay” as you reassured him. Tears were running freely now as he slammed the door, flopping on the bed and burying himself in the pillows, wishing that the bed would swallow him whole.

He didn’t know why he was reacting the way he did, Kyle was a good person, he saw the way he interacted with Morgan. He was gentle and loving, then why is it that he kept seeing him.

He heard the door creek, your footsteps echoing in his ears, drums rattling against his brain.

“Are you ready to talk now?” You asked softly, wafting your hands through his hair as he felt the bed dip with your weight.

“I had a babysitter, when I was eight. His name was Skip.” He croaked, breathing through his nose. He felt you stiffen as you seemed to connect the dots. Nudging him to move so you could insert yourself in the space.

“Did he hurt you Pete?” You whispered, rubbing his back.

“He did bad things to me, I just, I don’t want anyone to go through it again. Please. He may be in jail but- but sometimes I still feel like he’s here and I hate how I feel! I want him gone. I just want him gone and I want the memories to be erased.”

You remained silent, rubbing his back through his sweatshirt, unbidding tears appearing in your eyes. Someone had hurt Peter. You felt anger boiling inside you, swirling in a dangerous tornado at the thought of someone hurting the best person in your life,

You promised yourself that day that You would protect him at all costs. You couldn't do it in the past, but you would in the future.

“I’m glad you told me about this Pete.” You said, clenching your teeth as he met your eyes.

#peter parker x stark!reader #peter parker x reader #peter x reader #peter parker x stark reader #stark!reader #spiderman x stark!reader #peter parker x avenger!reader #avenger!reader #peter parker x reader angst #peter parker x reader fluff #peter parker smut #spideygirl writes

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jadedxrealityw · 4 years

Text

-Time Of The Month- Draco Malfoy x Female Reader

Kody: This is for all my homies who are taking a trip down a heavy river with bloody mary or for anyone who just enjoys stories of Draco taking care of you while your on your period

Warning: Cursing, mentions of blood and hopeless Draco

House: Slytherin

Summary: Bloody mary has cursed you with her presence and Draco is in for a hormonal storm.

♡~🐍~♡

While scribbling down notes for potions class you felt a pain in your abdomen. You wince slightly and stop writing, placing your quill down on the desk. This couldn’t be happening, not now. Not while in class. Hoping it was just a false alarm, you pick up your quill again to continue taking notes.

Not even a minute later a sharp pain came from your abdomen again. Fuck. You needed to get out of this classroom now. Slowly raising your hand, you waited for Snape to notice you were there. He looked up from his book and eyed you for a moment “Yes Ms. L/n?” he said in his usual monotone voice. You gulped, hoping he would take pity on you.

“May i visit the hospital wing, im not feeling to well”

Snape noted your uncomfortable expression and your other hand on your abdomen. He may have been a man, but he wasn’t student. He sighed and made a waving gesture with his hand “Yes. Take your things with you as well” You nodded and gave him a quick smile before stuffing your belongings into your bag. You get out of your seat and leave the classroom.

♡~🐍~♡

As you pushed open the doors to the hospital wing, you saw Madam Pomfrey at her workstation. She looked up when she heard the sound of the door opening and smiled “Why hello Ms. L/n! What can i do for you today?” she asked, walking from the desk and over to you. You laugh nervously and lean in so only she could hear “I need pads/tampons and some medicine for cramps” you say in a hushed tone.

Madam Pomfrey makes an ‘o’ shape with her mouth and nods. Heading over to her workstation, she grabs a brown paper bag and fills it with some items. She did it very inconspicuously so no one would see what the contents were. When she was done she folded the top of the bag and walked back over to you.

“Here you go darling, everything you asked for including a couple chocolate frogs” she gave you a small wink, making you giggle. She hands you the bag and you turn on your heels to leave the hospital wing and find a bathroom.

♡~🐍~♡

When you walked into the bathroom you were met with the sound of crying. Shit, this was moaning Myrtle’s bathroom. “W-Who’s there!” the ghost shouted, she flew out the stall and came face to face with you “Oh, Y/n. Hello” she said, her tears coming to a stop. “Hey Myrtle, i just need to change. No peeking please?” you say, giving the ghost girl a pleading look.

Myrtle nods vigorously “Promise” You nod and give her a smile before walking into on of the stalls. You make sure the doors locked before going through your bag, you grabbed the extra underwear you keep in there, just for emergencies and place it on top of your bag. You remove your robe, placing it gently on the ground and start to tug off your skirt and the shorts you wore underneath.

You then take of your underwear and there it was. A blood stain that screamed ‘Fuck you’ sighing you place the dirty underwear on the side on your bag and grabbed the clean ones, you take a pad/tampon from your bag and put it where it needs to be before slipping your underwear on. You dressed yourself again and grabbed a plastic ziplock bag that held your clean underwear and put the dirty ones in there.

You heard students in the hallway which meant class ended and it was lunch time. You craved lunch at the moment, so much it made your stomach growl. You stuff your things in your bag and head out the stall “Bye Myrtle!” you said, waving to her. She gave you a smile back and waved as well before heading into her stall.

♡~🐍~♡

Walking into the great hall the smell of food made you much hungrier than you were a second ago. Taking a look at the Slytherin table, you saw your boyfriend sitting with his friends, which made you needy all of the sudden. Damn hormones. Walking to the table, Draco spots you and gives you a warm smile and scooched over so you could sit next to him.

You sat down and he instantly wrapped an arm around your shoulders. A warm feeling blossomed in your chest as you lean your head on his broad shoulder. Draco smiles and tilts his head to give you a kiss on your hair “Blaise told me you went to the hospital wing, everything okay?” he whispered.

You wondered how Blaise knew until you remembered he was in your potions class. Duh. “Yeah, just started bleeding” you whispered back, Draco’s face changing to one of confusion before his mind clicked “Oh okay, cramping im guessing?” you nod and as if on cue a pain shot through you, making you whine quietly.

Draco gave you a sympathetic look and gives you a light squeeze “Just try and eat love, okay?” he asked. You agreed and sat straight up again. You picked up one of the serving spoons and put mac and cheese on your plate. You were starving, so you put a serving for two people.

“That’s a lot of food L/n, pigging out much? Oink Oink” you took a deep breath. Pansy fucking Parkinson. You put the serving spoon down and pick up your fork. Just ignore her and it’ll be fine you thought. You take a bite of your mac and cheese “Where did Draco get you? A barn?” she cackled, her friends laughing with her.

“Pansy shove off before i make you” Draco said through gritted teeth, giving the Slytherin girl a scowl. Pansy scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest “How about fighting your own battles L/n?” she let out a menacing chuckle. You sigh looking up from your plate and at her, with no expression what so over “How ‘bout you suck my fucking dick, Parkinson?”

Gasps were heard throughout the Slytherin table making Pansy flush red with embarrassment. “Your disgusting!” she shouted making you cringe before storming out the great hall. You shrug and take another bite of your warm food “Merlin Y/n what crawled up your ass?” Blaise laughed into his hand.

“Your mother” this time it was Draco’s turn to laugh, covering his mouth with the back of his hand. Blaise rolled his eyes and went back to his food “Alright love, lets calm down” Draco cooed and kissed your temple.

♡~🐍~♡

Hand in hand, you and Draco walked into the Slytherin common room. You felt that needy feeling to be all over him again. You just craved his attention, like his constant attention. “Can i lay in your room while you do homework?” You asked in a whiny tone, causing Draco to let out a tiny laugh “Of course, love” he replies and leads you to his dorm.

Once you two are in the dorm, you let go of Draco’s hand and walk over to his bed, drop your bag and flop down. You heard Draco laugh behind you “Comfortable?” he asked, making his way to his desk and sit down, placing his bag on the desk as well. You hummed in response as you curled into the silk sheets, closing your eyes as well.

“I want cuddles” you whine again, Draco smiles lightly and pulls out his textbook “Let me get this done first darling then i’ll give you all of my attention, how does that sound?” You couldn’t see, but he saw your mouth form into a smile. “Okay” you said in a small voice. He nods and turns to start his homework while you laid on his bed.

♡~🐍~♡

It had been 20 minutes and you were getting restless. You sit up from the bed “Can i borrow some of your clothes Draco?” you asked looking at the ceiling. “Yeah sure love” he said quickly and went back to his work, oh right. He was doing homework. You felt bad for interrupting him because you knew how frustrated with work he could get.

You frown and decided to no longer bother him. You get up from the bed and walked over to his dresser. You pull out a emerald green sweater and black sweatpants. Since he’s turned around you just change behind him and once you do, you place your clothes on a chair and feel the worst cramp. It almost had you buckled over.

You go over to your things and grab the brown paper bag, taking out the medicine. You pop one of the pills, but it was going to take time to kick in. You someone climb onto the bed and pull the sheets over you. The cramps kept hitting you one by one, spreading to your back. You couldn’t help the tears that slipped from your eyes.

♡~🐍~♡

Draco was finishing up the last line of his work when he heard small small whimpers and whines come from his girlfriend. He turns around to see her curled up in the fetal position. He gets up from his desk and walks over to you “Love are you okay?” he asked, worry lacing his tone.

You look up at him and give him a sad smile “Cramps, i already took medicine. I’m waiting for it to kick in. I’m fine, you can go back to your work” You waved your hand, signalling him to walk off. He shakes his head “No, i’m finished anyway. So i can cuddle with you”

Draco goes over to his dresser and starts to remove his clothes. You queak, closing your eyes and wait a minute before opening them. He’s wearing grey sweatpants and a black t-shirt. He gives you a smile and lays down behind you, placing an arm around you. “It’ll be okay love, just try to relax till the meds kick in okay?” he whispers, placing a sweet kiss behind you ear. You hum and lean into his touch

Draco begins to rub circles into your abdomen, the pain begins to die down making you smile “Thank you so much” You say “Don’t be love. I’m your boyfriend and i love you, so of course i’d do this for you.” Draco kisses your head again. You feel yourself become a bit drowsy and yawn quietly, closing your eyes.

“I love you too” You mumble as you drift off into a dreamless sleep. Draco following soon after. Maybe this week of bloody hell (get....get it?) wouldn’t be so bad. Especially when Draco was there to hold your hand though it.

♡~🐍~♡

Kody: It’s four am and i should be sleeping, so i wrote this instead. We love insomnia. Anyway, have a lovely day or night. Don’t let the Nargles take your things. Peace.

#draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy x y/n #draco x reader #draco malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #x reader #x female reader #pansy parkinson #blaise zabini #slytherin #fanfiction #fanfic #harry potter #potterhead #x fem!reader

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inkleaf-cafe · 3 years

Note

Okay i cant find the post but i’ll take it as a yes so here:

1: sleep tight don’t let the milf’s bite

2: I sometimes think you’re not neurotypical

3:i can just smell the trauma

4:my queerness could never

5:i can just feel the gay

6:You know how i said “I definitely jinxed it”…yea i did

7:sounds like a crisis…mood

8:In one sentence i somehow made my whole bloodline ashamed of me

9:Dont know if this is supped to be gay or therapy

10:my yawns sound like a quiet chainsaw

11:my dreams are either trauma or gay…what does that mean

12:my dream was amazing filled with zombies but amazing

13:be the gays you need to be

14:i think i ate some soap

15:My brain was somewhat okay and you completely ruined it

16:Okay who do i have to kill this time

17:Yes im using a musical to teach politics

18: think i made a random poem and somehow it got deep

19:What do you not understand about me reading gay shit on webtoon and seeing cute dresses?

20:I will be the monster under your bed i will either comfort you till you sleep or be Jeff the killer

21:Ah yes blackmail the best way to negotiate

22:feel’s like i’ve zoned out while reading this

23:Wheres the TL;DR because i just stopped at Hi!

24:Yea you lost me im in Stratosphere

25:* eats vomit cutely *

26:I still question both of our sanity

27:When they call me baby girl

28: thats stupid bitches tok

29:I mean wouldnt it be cool that your ex is the moon

30:do you even sleep

31:The only people i hate are real people

32:I use the happy emojis all the time they all look dead inside

33:Social anxiety isn’t pog

34:WHOS GONNE GRAB THE BIG ASS COIN OFF HIS FORHEAD

35:MEOWTH SALAD

36:i thought Jessie and James were gay

37:Its called insomnia

38: Hermione is holding me at gun point

39:Is kicking someone a team sport?

40:what part of asl with out sign do you not get

41:kiddo but an insult

42:i was gonne say i watched Luca but damn do you need therapy

43: knew all that trauma would pay off one day

44:imagine not having fangs 🤡

45: being stupid is my job you cant take it from me

46:the whole world hates England

47:okay but arson would be so much fun

48:Do i rly sond like a dog when i say things out loud

49:THEY MADE ME LIVE AND THATS A HATE CRIME ON ME

50:I mean zeus is a whore

51:So we got bad bitch and better bitch making up the baby girl squad

52:Sometimes I challenge how much i can disappoint my ancestors

53:Ghost be judgin while i hit that rennagade

54:Fuck ✨ grammar ✨

55:KNEW YOU WERE A BEAVER

56:Probs an alligator too

57:this blog could always be *cursive rainbow* gayer

58:ah,pintrest my love,my pride,my joy THE FUCKING BANE OF MY EXISTENCE FUCK YOU I FUCKING LOVE YOU AND WANT YOU TO DIE A PAINFUL DEATH

59:✨ alcohol ✨

60:Kiddo go to drugs dont do school

61::i still have trauma from the zebra cardigan

62:yes YES BE THE GAYS YOU NEED TO BE

63:aww thats so gay 🥺

64:hol’ on a god damn fucking second…this shit gay

65:am i turning straight?

66:you broke your fucking plant this better be worth it

67:i have two moods “i wanna die” and ✨gay✨

68:they look like shit but they can look like shit together

69:nice 😏(i never said this or wrote this before just sayin’ its nice)

70:fuck you (affectionate) [is it weird that i said that at least 20 times]

71: fuck you……TAKE MY LIKES

72:we can capitalize off of your dog

73:oh shit i thought that was elsa jumping off of that bridge she made

74:wait are you implying they’re the last non binary orange

75:i might die for the third time now

76:are you god? I mean sans undertale profile pic but still are you god?

77:heh gæ

78:when i sleep i sleep

79:i will not tolerate dead memes in my class room unless its doge

80:he looks so cute but damn do i want to kill him

81:people are just too damn kinky these days

82:so this is what it feels like to have attachment issues

83:But Etida u e-mol-Dionizijo Aguado my beloved

84:I like it just my brains too small to comprehend it

85:shes a sexist feminist in the making

86:i want a mineta x death fic

87:they’ll plan my funeral…add saxobeat

88:a-am i a-a child?!?

89:hey girl you a flashbomb cus you bright

90:hey girl is your gender water cus its fluid

91:Ok im actually proud of that one i better not hear a cricket

92:okay now he looks like an emo boy

93:Yea my will to live is as low as my self esteem

94:can someone plan my funeral yea i know its wedding galore same thing

95:remembering that time i called saiki a tsundere bitch

96:* call me by your name starts playing* NOT AGAIN

97:i may have “i kicked a child” as one of my names but you’re a monster

98:DEATH IS A RACE AND I WANNA WIN

99:Bye :] , wtf?

100:GO CATBOY GO(00:03 am)

101:you know i have a pain tolerance of

102:I kin that emoji

103:That blood stain looks like a pp

104: am i too middle school

105:I feel like my sass level has risen

106:OH! PROCRASTINATION

107:nah i kinda wanna continue to write my raid shadow legends x reader fic

108:plus my confidence is as low as my will to live

109: who wants to have the honour of killing me

110:great mind think alike but also wt

I-

Wow-

#holy malcom #long post #really long post

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thespiantherepist · 4 years

Text

Devoted Devotee Yandere Bakugou x Superfan reader!

{Warnings: Blood, obsession, creepy vibes. Yanderes, jealosy. Be careful here if youre not one for uncomfy themes. 18+ minors DNI. Enjoy the story! ~Nugget!} Ever since his debut you were obsessed. You had never heard of him until he lit up the city streets with light reminiscent of a newly born sun god. You were mesmerized. You watched him catapult through the air. His face and teeth shown with a sense of danger. He looked ready to kill if nessasary. It drove you wild. SURE for a while your friends made fun of your newfound obsession. That was until... you didnt have friends anymore. You were a nice enough person! Sure, that wasnt the problem. They just got tired of not hearing about YOU. They always heard yap of the hero. “GROUND ZERO.” This, and, “GOD EXPLOSION MURDER!” That. It was time for you to take a rehab... but you were’nt aware. You were part of his cult. The highest follower. Papparazi. Spicy fan theories. FAN FICS. Oh how many nights you drooled over the scandelous drawings you blew much of your crypto currency on just to perfect. Your mind was in a haze and your heart was set on him. You went to almost every live viewing. And you were perfectly happy, and healthy... until you were’nt. You started becoming sick more often. A sense of dread filling you if you were’nt able to snuggle up to your pillow with Ground Zero’s voice. Straight. In your ear. Insomnia would creep in. But you still woke as enthusiastic as ever, because you needed money for these meets... and money, comes from work. Your co-workers, were not as polite as your friends. While you rarely spoke to them, and mostly just to the clients they could always hear it. Same as your friends. You would go to work and then be sent back home for being too sick sometimes. On one occasion your boss sent you some food, just so you’d eat. She used child tactics on you. “Ground Zero would like it if you ate your food dear.” She’d say, her soothing voice in front of you as you looked up. She’d give you a big smile. And you would eat. These. Were the only times you wouldnt talk of him. The womans heart broke everytime you talked of him. She would run her dark hands across your cheeck and softly tell you that he wasnt worth your love. She was never in the position to produce children. And she never wanted a husband. Nor did she want a wife. You were the closest to a grandchild the old woman had. So. To show your graditude you stopped. You chatted with her for hours. About you. Only you... and yourself. And that made her happy. You never thought you would get the chance to actually meet him. FOR REAL. Your eyes buldged out of their sockets. You pulled your phone out, snapping pictures of him gliding through the air. HE WAS SO GRACEFUL! He looked like an angel and you thought of crying. He roared so loud you thought he’d damage his beautiful vocal cords. He finally after a greuling battle was able to take down the stupid villain. You swooned. Eyes filling with hearts as you leaned back wistfully. If only you could touch him. Then your life would be conten- “DUMBASS LEAVE ALREADY!” You felt a harsh prod at your forehead. Blinking you righted yourself. Awestruck at the sight before you. In fornt of your own two eyes. Touching you. Was Ground Zero. You fell to your knees. Hugging his boots. “OMGOMGOMG!!!!! YOURE GROUND ZERO, I AM LITERALLY YOUR BIGGEST FAN. YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW LONG IVE WANTED TO MEET YOU!” Behind his eyes there was a look of pure malace as he stared at his feet which were covered by your body. He was tempted to blast you to peices before realising. You were just a civilian. Just a weak, little, pathetic- You looked straight up at him. Eyes of admiration glistening back up at him. A hole night sky encapsulated in the precious lenses that were your eyes. He was taken aback. Suddenly noticing the adorable smiling face that peered up at him. He was almost confused. ‘When will they stop looking at me like that?’ He thought. But the longer he stared at them... the more enrapturing they got. He shook himself form the thought and pryed you away from him. “Fuckin what?” He said almost winded. Watching as you spryly lifted to your feet. Barreling back towards him before skipping in one spot. “YEAH YEAH YEAH! OOH OOH.” You plucked a pen and notebook from your bag and shoved it towards him. He looked at it in discust. But at you? He just couldnt look away. “PLEASE PLEASE PRETTY PPLLLLLLEEEEASE SIGN THIS! YOURE MY FAVOURITE AND I ADORE YOU!” The amount of praise you put out almost nullified any sense of discust now. Witht the crowd gone and the sky darkening he sighed. But just before he could grab the objects. ‘Ill sign it! Mr. Fun Zero here wont take a chill pill for one second!” A flirtatious and somewhat goofy voice chimed in from behind him. A flash of yellow,and black passed the two of em. Chargebolt quickly wrote his alias... and his number. Followed by a black and yellow heart. Pikachu ears poking out at the top. He winked at you and handed the book back. “Youre a cutie, ya know?” He asked you retorically as you stared at the signature in confusion. “Haha! What am I asking of course you know.” He said in a friendly way. Ground Zeros fists clenched. Noticable sparks flaking out. He wanted you to whine. And to complain. To bawl and cry about how that dumb pikachu stole HIS spot. Bit you just awkardly and kindly nodded. The vibe kind of ruined now. “I uhhh... I’ll get going.” You said jabbing a finger at the opposite road. Before you could even turn around Ground Zero snatched your book and held it over his head. You almost pouted. But he motioned for the pen. You squealed in joyous glee, as you handed it to him. He turned his head around. Sticking his tounge out angrily at Denki. He wrote three things. His real name. His number. And a note... “Ill always watch over you.~Ground Zero.” You watched in absolute astonishment at the scene. He gave the book back to you. Leaning in to close a distance, ‘Why the fuck are you doing this?’ He asked himself. Furious. ‘It feels right.’ He rebuttled. As he handed the book back to you he made sure to graze your fingertips. Keeping his serious, and stern look on. “You better be going back home soon Teddy Bear. Dont want you getting hurt.” He turned you around for good measure. Making sure to lightly tap right above your ass to make you flustered. Which you were. Immensely. Your face heated up like the surface of a blue star. Blood pouring from your nose to your cheeks. You whipped around and bowed several times. Getting a bit of blood on the ground. “THANK YOU SO MUCH. Uhh I UUHH. BYE BYE!” And with that you zipped off. Zooming straight back to your apartment and falling asleep straight as you locked the door and collapsed on the couch. Bakugou stayed behind. An inner quarrel raging in his mind. ‘TEDDY BEAR WHAT THE FUCK? “WHY THE HELL DID YOU DO THAT! ‘You tapped their ass what the fuck you perv? ‘They liked Denkis more than yours. ‘I wanna see them writhing beneath me. He tried to shake them. Flustered horribly by these thougts. HE HAD ONLY JUST MET THEM! He needed to calm down. Then a voice breached all his other thoughts. “Their blood looks tasty.” Denki was taken aback. And now was moonwalking all the way back to his other patrol area. Bakuhou didnt care, and insteasd just knealt down. Swiped a bit of the blood off the pavement and licked his finger. He could physically feel his pupils expand. Wider than they ever had before. He smirked. A tastse of something sweeter than kicking a villans ass, or dragging Deku through the mud. Now he had a target... and they werent getting away. Why would they want to anyway? “

#yandere bakugou #oblivious and obsessive reader #aged up #pro hero #admiration #blood #Chapter 1 #Civilian reader #superfan reader #scary bakugou #denki #1

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alecxaheart · 3 years

Text

Wish I Were | Kim Seungmin Oneshot

✎ Genre : High School Student AU, Angst, Fluff

✎ Pairings : Kim Seungmin X Reader (?)

✎ Word Count : 1.1k words

✎ Synopsis : Winter has already passed, yet Seungmin is getting colder and colder as time flies by.

✎ Warnings : Explicit Language

✎. . . Another angsty oneshot but a song inspired one. It's been a while since I wrote a very short oneshot. Btw, the whole oneshot is in Seungmin's Point of View. Enjoy my loves, mwah. <3

Kim Seungmin.

Save the date, 3rd of December. Where in the middle of a snowfall, sunshine appeared out of the blue. The time I was saved from the inner demons haunting me, from the bothering cold of winter. The time I never thought would come to the point that I lost care for myself.

With a small yet simple gesture, I was saved. She came just in time and the best part of her rescue was probably her giving me her soft light-tinted blue sweater. " It looks better on you than it did on me, Seungminnie, " She giggled as we sat in front of her fireplace, my cup of coffee laid unfinished on the table. Her arms around my waist while I lay my head down on her shoulder. All the warmth I received on that day was completely comfortable. From the fireplace, the hot coffee she offered, her sweater and her care and love. I couldn't ask for more than that to feel enough.

With a small yet simple gesture, I couldn't help but fall.

Fall.. In Love?

Just another new start allotted for this school year happened on this very day. Months had already passed ever since me and Yuri met. Right now, it's just me and her having a wonderful conversation. Her beautiful smile appeared once in a while with a small chuckle as we continued to just pass some time before class started.

" No way, this happened when you hit the baseball with your bat? You're that strong? " Her eyes twinkled as I showed her the picture my friend, Bang Chan, posted on Instagram. I responded with a nod and a hum, smiling.

" It looks like teeth marks at first glance, " Both of us giggled in unison while I tucked my phone back in my pockets. " But hey, that's really an impressive strength. You'll be in my speed dial in case I want you to kick some asses for me. "

Then there was a short silent pause in the area as the main doors opened. I took a glance towards it to figure out what caused such distraction from multiple individuals. And I must say or rather I could tell it already, he's definitely gonna be the elephant in the room.

His face defines ethereal, perfectly sculpted by the Gods to the point that they placed a star beneath his eye. He was indeed shining, everyone blinded by his beauty.

What broke my heart was when I took a glance back at you, you were one of them. I saw your eyes sparkling, filled with adoration towards the newcomer. You couldn't look away, trapped into his spell as he walked towards us. He caught your attention and you couldn't help but fawn over him more. What a sight for sore eyes.

I slowly distanced myself away when he was now onto you, both of you sharing smiles brighter than the blue sky and exchanging a few words. You're too lost in his eyes to notice my presence vanishing from your area, too lost in love while I'm starting to lose love itself. You never looked at me the same way as you did to him.

With one last glance, I witnessed how you got him so mesmerized before I die.

Or Fall.. Apart?

Back in place, like it was the start of winter once again. The time I was emotionally and mentally going downhill. But the difference is that it's far from almost winter, the sun shines too bright these days and I hate it.

Messages

💟 : Hey, can't meet you up today

💟 : I promised Hyunjin I would go with him, sorry

It's okay. : KSM

Go and have fun with your man. :) : KSM

Read – 5:03PM

Closing the door, I leaned my head back on it before silently letting my body fall onto the ground with the phone in hand, the picture of the two of us showing in the lock screen. I knew that behind me, behind this door stood Hyunjin and you having the greatest time of your lives. Exchanging words, smiles, and laughter with one another.

The scene I saw a few moments ago played. I walked into the rooftop, supposedly to be looking for you – which I did but never thought of it to be something like this. I watched you two there standing before the golden sun setting in the horizon then he held your hand. You, too, gave one of your sweaters to him. Putting his arms around your shoulder afterwards when you two took a seat on the ground, your head resting on his chest as you both took in the scenery.

I wanted to hate him so much, for he took away my chances of even having the confidence to confront you and confess my feelings towards you, ruining all of my plans to have the greatest life I've ever had in my grasp. Although as much as I wanted to, I just couldn't bring myself to do so. Hyunjin-hyung never treated you or anyone else badly, being the angel that he is. He's also true to his feelings, I overheard it from a conversation he had with Minho that he likes you, the same way you like him. However, I did prefer him not existing at all – thinking that maybe it would go the way I wanted it to be if he was never there.

In the end, I'll only get colder and colder to the point that my heart will freeze, slowly distancing myself away from you. While you're looking beyond exquisite than ever with a smile brighter than the sun, twinkling stars adorning your eyes and the pinkness of your cheeks – all of it was because of Hwang Hyunjin. Just for the sake of your eternal happiness, I have to disenthrall you.

Laying down alone on the bed, in the middle of my gloomy bedroom, drowning in my own pool of thoughts. Wearing the light-tinted blue sweater to feel the warmth back in the 3rd of December that I always loved, but I knew it would never be the same as before. Today, she wouldn't be able to save me. This would've been the aftermath back then.

Eyes red plus the visible dark bags underneath it came all from excessive crying and insomnia. Body tired like hell. Lost my appetite. Pale skin and dry lips. Too many emotions mixed up in my heavy chest. My mind screaming and yelling in agony yet none of it was heard since I lost my own voice as well. All in all, I feel like shit.

Beside me laid my journal, the messed up pages filled with black ink shown. The words " Wish I Were Hyunjin " were mindlessly written on the pages, repeatedly scattered.

Why would you ever kiss me?

I'm not even half as pretty

You gave him your sweater

It's just polyester

But you like him better

Wish I were...

Breaking the silence, a knock on the wooden door was heard out of the blue.

End.

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masterjedilenawrites · 4 years

Text

The Sniper and The Medic: Chapter 3

Starring: Crosshair, OC Joan Vo, Hunter, Wrecker, and Tech

Summary: Crosshair doesn't exactly like medical personnel. In fact, he hates them. They're always poking and prodding, calling him skinny, telling him he's not good enough. But then he meets the new medical examiner, the smart and kind and oh-so-pretty Joan Vo. And suddenly, he's not only looking forward to his medical check-ups, but he's also starting to question whether he wants to go to war after all....

Rating & Warnings: T/PG-13. Eventual fluff. Light angst. Who knows what else will pop up, but I’ll leave warnings when needed.

Taglist: Let me know if you want to be tagged for this fic.

AO3 Link (In case you like it better over there, it’s okay, no judgement)

< Previous Chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter >

Chapter 3: Bitter Pill

As expected, the conversation among his brothers the rest of the day was exclusively about the new girl.

"Dr. Vo was already a combat medic when the war started," said Tech over their lunch in the mess hall. "The battalion on her home planet took her in, so she knows how to take care of us clones."

"Did you see the scar on her hand?" asked Wrecker during their afternoon fight simulation training. "She got it from punching a droid... a droid! And then she stitched it up herself. That's my kinda woman."

"Joan's got a lot of ideas for whipping us into shape," said Hunter while they showered off in the refresher that evening. "Exercise regimens, diet plans, even some good team building tasks. She knows more than the Kaminoans."

Crosshair had nothing to contribute.

The four of them sat in the common room of their small apartment as the night started to settle in. They had been moved into these private quarters, in a different section of the facility, just last week. Though it was cramped and cold, they were already getting used to the separation from the regs.

"What about you, Cross?" Hunter asked from the seat beside him and the others turned to him expectantly.

The truth was that Crosshair had spent the day incredibly angry with himself. He had not gained any level of insight into Dr. Joan Vo like his brothers had. He hadn't noticed her scars or asked about her life or heard any of her plans for their medical regimen. He had stayed sullen and silent in that damn room. And now, the one time he wanted to engage in conversation over a girl, he had absolutely nothing.

He shrugged, tying to come up with something. But what could he possibly say? The only thing she'd offered up was that she knew someone from the Umbara mission. But that wasn't significant; everyone talked about Umbara. And he wasn't telling anyone about his homework assignment. He'd ran all the way over here to stash the pad of paper under his mattress, making him late for training, just so he wouldn't have to explain it to anyone.

Hunter immediately sensed his discomfort and let out a chuckle, clapping him gently on the shoulder. "She probably spent the whole time reading your long-ass medical chart, huh?"

Tech and Wrecker nodded along, believing that must have been the case. Crosshair didn't correct them.

"I do hope she addresses your insomnia," said Tech, picking up a datapad he had been doing some casual research with earlier. "And your resulting caf addiction. Not. Healthy."

He gave Crosshair a pointed glare before returning to the screen.

"Ah, don't worry about ol' Cross," said Hunter, still in an easygoing mood. "Joan's a professional. She'll get him sorted out."

Crosshair pouted but no one paid him attention. He did not want to be "sorted." Or treated, or fixed, or anything of the sort. This professional could take her war stories and good ideas and shove them, for all he cared. In fact the longer he was spending away from the doctor, the less he could remember why he'd liked her in the first place.

"She's so pretty...." Wrecker sighed for the tenth time that day.

Oh yeah, that's why, thought Crosshair as he secretly sighed along with his brothers.

"Did you notice she doesn't use any of the medical droids?" Tech asked, getting distracted from his research yet again.

"Oh yeah," Wrecker said, "she hates 'em."

"I don't know about hate, but she told me they're better for the menial tasks like blood analysis. Only a human can truly understand another human, she said."

"I'm glad she sees us as humans," Hunter said, a little quieter. "Treats us like humans. Not experiments."

"Does she think we have a chance to deploy?" Tech sat forward. It was a commonly known fact the Kaminoans still had their doubts about the viability of Clone Force 99, and even the clone commanders helping with their training were hesitant to have an opinion one way or the other.

"She does." Hunter straightened, his duty as their leader kicking in. "But we still have a lot of work ahead of us, a lot to prove. She has advice, but we're the ones that have to do something with it. It'll be a hard couple of months. But we're coming out of this as the best damn clone unit in the galaxy."

Tech grinned and Wrecker gave an enthusiastic hoorah! Crosshair couldn't help but smirk, too, though he believed they already were the best damn clones in the galaxy.

* * *

They'd all gone to bed hours ago, but Crosshair was the only one still awake. The lights were out but he could clearly see every pen stroke on the paper. He was sitting up in his bunk, or as much as he could in the cramped space between the mattress and the ceiling, and was reading through the notes Joan had made during his visit, while his brothers snored around him.

Sharpshooter

Quiet

Confident

Wide peripheral vision

Long-distance vision: incredible

Dexterity: limber, flexible

Detached from emotions

Crosshair blinked at the last note. He'd been feeling pretty good about himself up until then. Detached from emotions? Was it because he'd said he was better than the regs who'd shot at each other on Umbara? He knew it, she had judged him for that comment, just as everyone else did. But it was the truth and he stood by it. How dare she try to twist it into some kind of character defect. And besides, what did emotions have to do with his health anyway?

He found himself growing angry again, his cheeks flushing and heart beating heavily. Without thinking, he scribbled over her note and wrote his own next to it:

I have emotions.

He cursed at himself. That was a stupid thing to write. He tried scribbling over that, too, but it was still obvious what he'd written. He scribbled harder, until the paper ripped and he threw the pen across the room in frustration.

He took a few moments to compose himself and quietly got down from the bunk. This was so stupid. She thought she had him all figured out, didn't she? She hadn't even read his chart, she had no clue just how different he was and how hard his life had been. How badly he wanted, no, needed to get off this planet and fight already.

He picked up the pen from where it'd landed in the corner, just as Wrecker let out a large snore. He was sprawled across a double bed against the opposite wall, while Tech was on the bunk beneath his. Hunter had his own room across the hall, specially-designed with sensory deprivation measures. It was the only way he could sleep most nights, especially with Wrecker snoring like a Bantha.

They were an odd group to be sure, and they'd already been through so much together. Crosshair wouldn't trade any of them for the world.

He hurried back into his bed, taking up the paper and quickly jotting a few things underneath the angry scribbles. That would show her. Satisfied, he re-hid the paper beneath his mattress and finally let himself drift off to sleep.

Determined.

Passionate.

Committed.

Loyal.

#star wars #the clone wars #the bad batch #clone force 99 #crosshair #crosshair x OC #eventual fluff #angst #crosshair needs a hug #medical things #soldier things #more tags to follow

33 notes · View notes

snickiebear · 3 years

Note

Hi bby! 1, 2, 3, 6, 16, 27, 29, 33, 35! 🖤

mittens!!! loml!!

1. From one to five stars, how would you rate your writing? (No downplaying yourself!)

oh goodness... um, i’d say a 4?? yeah, that sounds about right, only because i often make so many tense mistakes and even when i edit there’s always something to fix. and just,,, im still learning a lot (aren’t we all). plus, sometimes the stuff i put out needs so much more work (see: my recent shisaku fic... i want to tear it up and put it back together.. ugh.. also wt&r, just everything)

2. Why do you write fanfiction?

OH GOODIE! i just... well, i wrote a lot when i was twelve-fourteenish, then kind of on and off through the years. never really had anything to ground me and get me to take writing seriously. and then i found naruto and sakura who has so much unused potential and it just made me so angry to see her treated that way.

point being, the naruto fandom (more specifically the sakura fandom) rooted me down and allowed me be able to grow as a writer even though i’ve only been posting since january my writing style has changed so much, and i can physically feel myself becoming a better writer.

plus, i just love it. the thrill of being able to use these characters and pairings and do what i want with them?? i drink it up, i love it!!! its so freeing and such a great way to really dig deep within writing itself.

3. What do you think makes your writing stand out from other works?

i think its just the way i word things, you and a lot of others call it poetry but meh i just call it fancy words or word vomit from my brain AHAHHAHA

also, my thing is God Killers, God Eaters, and Angry Wrathful Women at this point, so maybe thats another thing?

but honestly,,, i have no clue... you’d have to ask my lovely readers, im so thankful for them 😭

6. What element of writing do you find comes easily?

plot probably. this changes often though. usually when i have an idea, the rest comes to mind and i jot it down and come back and change things and stuff, so thats usually pretty easy tbh... at least for now LMAO

and inner dialogue, inner struggles, showing the entire internal thing. its fun writing that angsty part of a story, the small insights into a character’s mind, how miserable and alone they feel. or, perhaps how happy they are, overjoyed and at peace.

OH AND WORLD BUILDING. i pride myself so much on my world building. i honestly think thats one of the better things im good at! just weaving small details into the text, and subtly building a world within your mind, oh i love it so much!!!!

16. Any guilty pleasure trope(s)?

mmmm nothing really comes to mind? men simping for women who could kick their ass? tho idk if thats really a guilty pleasure....am very fond of same age aus, sometimes mafia aus too... ummm,, yeah

(probably big dick tenzo tbh... and the fact that kakashi’s face is a legal weapon AHAHAHA,,, and broken, vunreble men. also, shattered, all consuming women.)

27. What’s the nicest comment you’ve ever received?

oh god... i cannot chose! you, ele, al, and hika leave the kindest comments, and literally any comment on the things i write just make me so so so so so HAPPY. i just them more than kudos tbh.

but! one comment on the intimacy of being understood i always come back to. it was left by GuardianMars and they wrote that the fic was like a “love letter to the pairing.” and that well. i think about that comment all the time.

there have been so many others comments that have utterly touched my heart and that i will go to read on terrible, horrible days and i value ALL comments. especially those who say “i’m rereading this again” or “i’ll read anything you put out” that just. there is something so intimate about that, that utter faith and loyalty that i do not know what to do with.

its so touching and makes me truly believe in the good of the world.

29. Have you ever gone outside of your comfort zone for a fic? How did it turn out?

yes! i am attempting to get better at writing smut because ol&w is going to have some fucking in it so i experimented in that shisaku fic and just..... yeah idk man. idk... its something i do want to get better at cause, meh why not? and i want to write some good porn for my readers damnit! HAHAHA

33. Is there anything you wish your audience knew about your writing or writing process?

hmmm,,, probably that i stress so much and yet so little at the same time? allow me to elaborate! i stress so much about whether my writing is actually good or if people are just being nice LMAO and also posting, i get cold sweats and a thumping heart and yiKES

but also, i enjoy writing so its like “fuck you (jk ily guys) imma write what i wanna!”...do you see my issue? HAHAHA

also, im a planner. most of the time, and a lot of the details in my more serious fics (ol&w) are blink and miss details but they’re important and i LOVE foreshadowing!!!! like yes, i will vaguely mention something and itll simply come back with a vengeance!

35. Ramble about any fic-related thing you want!

aaaaaa okokok thank you for this ask LMAO i just love talking about writing and rambling (as i often do,, im a long winded person, im very sorry)!

but anyways! my summer semester just started up and i’m taking three purely online classes and the college im attending (im a dual enrollment student; meaning a high school and college kid,, taking advantage of the system!) fucked up my schedule so! im taking two TWELVE WEEK CLASSES that will end in AUGUST???? and then my fall sem starts five days later so... no summer break for nadia! yay...

writing will be very slow and updates will be too, which i am so sad and frustrated about because i’ve finally hit a paved road and now we’re driving into the forest! all bumps and bruises damnit! BUT worry not! i (as i said above, am i severe planner. every day has a plan, i am also an avid lover of lists also. i have lists for EVERYTHING) am working out a schedule so that i can get all my school shit done as soon as i can (while not failing) and write while hopefully not burning myself out.

ol&w is such an intricate fic and im truly trying to give it the justice it deserves,,, im just hoping that my dear readers can bear with me HAHAHAHA there is honestly so much going on in that fic; shikamaru’s development, the underlying plot, the hate to love build up, the world building, and then laying down the foundations for the next fic (because yes, this is supposed to be a trilogy.. question is; will i be able to write it?) (answer: maybe. hopefully. i desperately want to but it might take some time.)

BUT ASLO i have so many oneshots i want to write! kisame week! kakashi week! kibasaku long fic! and not to mention my og work that i plan on rewriting and putting up on ao3 because a few people showed some interest. there is just so much to do and write and i am itching to do it all! but. well, but school, and the exhaustion of insomnia, and the weight of stress, sigh.

shit sucks, it is what it is. but writing is like my safe haven and i just love pouring all myself into my fics and then baring my soul to you all and you take a peek and decide to keep looking. that is my favorite part of this little pocket of tumblr.

this was not really... fic related? more like a dump of issues! so sorry about that AHAHAHAH

anyways! thank you so much mittens! :)))))))))

pick my brain!

#silly things from silly friends

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sailor-manga · 4 years

Text

“Pantsu”- a drunk Denki Kaminari drabble.

A/N: Honestly, I really wanted this to go a certain way- But I couldn’t exactly execute it. It’s rather soft, and I don’t like it- But quite a few of you like the other Denki drabbles I’ve wrote so hopefully you guys will enjoy it.

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol, swearing, cross dressing [kind of]

Word count: 1,655

Late nights, you hated them. You wished for once your body would get tired at a decent time but it seemed like it fought more than anything. Lazily tapping away at your laptop, you would have music playing in the background which you idly nodded your head too. Sighing out you would look at the clock that read 3:26am before leaning back and letting out a grumble, was there even a point to try and sleep now? Regardless of when you actually did, you wouldn’t be up until late afternoon.

Rubbing the back of your neck, you’d click the tab that read Facebook to start to scroll through posts, chuckling at a few memes that Kirishima had posted to his feed a few hours ago. Sharing one of the photos, you would write a caption simply labeled “Me af” before hitting sharing to your timeline. That was the only thing that seemed interesting though, unlike you, people seemed to have normal sleep schedules, which kind of sucked, you wished you had an insomnia buddy.

It seemed your wishes were heard, because the loud chime of a Facebook message caused you to jump. Rubbing at your eyes, you’d look down to see it was a message from Denki Kaminari. Now you two have definitely had a history.. You two dated on and off, but due to his busy schedule it just never seemed to work out. You two remained friends though, he was a good guy and you more than understanding when it came to being busy. For a while you couldn’t even sit down for more than thirty minutes without something coming up and you had to go take care of it.

Opening the message, it was barely readable.. A drunken gibberish that you assumed said ‘What are you doing up’ but on the screen it read ‘Wtah ra u dosing up?’. Squinting your eyes a little you would shake your head a little bit.

Y/N: “Can’t sleep, have you been drinking?” -Sent at 3:29am

Denki Kaminari: “haw did you knaw#?” -Sent at 3:31am

Shaking your head some, you would only assume he meant to say ‘how did you know?!’ but you weren’t going to even bother trying to correct him. Closing your laptop, you would grab your phone next to you instead and go to the messages before hitting the call button. It rang for a moment before finally he answered, the sounds of him fumbling with the phone and swearing under his breath before a sigh could be heard “Hello? Y/N?” he chimed in a happy slur.

Smiling to yourself, you’d lean forward “Yes, hey- So why are you up at 3am, more than likely plastered” you’d ask. At first you would hear the male hum, like he was pondering what to say “I’ve had a lot more free time now, and I figured why not” he garbled loudly before clearing his throat “I’ve been thinking.. Would you maybe want to.. I don’t know, come over?” he continued on.

Furrowing your brow some, you’d fight back a smile that wanted to surface. “And why would I do that? Hm?” you teased. A nervous chuckle could be heard from the other side, you could practically feel the other blushing. “W-Well, don’t you miss me? I miss you.. I miss you a lot actually, and I um.. Was hoping we could talk about things too if you came over” relentlessly stuttering the whole time. This made you chuckle out again “I miss you too, Kami.. But are you sure it’s a good idea that I come over when you’re this drunk?” you’d ask.

More silence would follow as he thought about it “Mn, no.. I need you here, besides, I have a special surprise for you” he mumbled, the sound of him dropping the phone and quickly scrambling to pick it up again being heard. Letting out a giggle, you would shake your head some and look over to the car keys that sat on the table. It wouldn’t hurt to go over there right? Denki was harmless, it wasn’t like anything bad was going to happen- Plus he was someone that you trusted.

Letting out a large sigh you would snatch your keys “Fine, I’m on my way- Don’t go passing out on me” you warned before hanging up. Getting up you would walk into your bedroom and slip on a pair of jean shorts and a clean shirt, since you were wearing your ‘lazy’ pj’s. Not suitable to meet up with someone.

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

The drive was quick and soon you were at his door and calling him again, your face growing impatient “I swear to god if he passed out on me..” you’d mutter to yourself before finally the male would open the door, his cheeks flushed and body seeming like it was going to topple over. Hanging up the phone you would roll your eyes some and step inside “Jesus, Kami.. You can barely stand” you’d say before closing the door behind you and kicking off your slippers.

The blonde was quick to lean against you, hugging onto your waist with a happy hum “I’m so glad you came.. I missed you so much, Y/N” he mused. Letting out a soft sigh, you would hug him back and keep an arm around him once you were done, helping him back to the sofa to sit down. When you two were sitting though, he didn’t let go of you “Mmn, I missed you so much.. Your smell, your warmth, everything about you” he slurred.

“Denki, we’ve only been split for like.. Two weeks at most” you’d mumble out, patting his head. Denki would quickly nuzzle into your hand before shaking his head dramatically “Two weeks is way too long!! I don’t want to be broken up anymore.. I’m not busy anymore, and even if I get busy again- I’ll make time for you!” he practically yelled in your ear. Placing a hand on his face, you’d push him away lightly “Jesus Kami, don’t need to yell” you’d huff before meeting his half lidded gaze “Listen, you’re drunk right now.. My answer is yes, we can try again- But let’s not finalize anything until tomorrow when you’re sober” you’d say quietly, pressing a hand against his warm cheek.

The male would quickly nod and throw his arms out, hugging onto you tightly “I’m okay with that! I can promise you though, my answer won’t change” he mused happily before pecking your cheek sloppily.

Wrapping your arms around him, you would sigh. You really did like Denki, the reasoning's for your break ups were never malicious or with ill intent, you knew that you two could make it work. Petting his locks back, you would glance down at him. His eyes were closed and he was nuzzled into your shoulder happily “Wake up, Sparky.. You still need to show me the surprise” you huffed, jerking your shoulder slightly to shake his head.

“I- Oh! Sorry, I wasn’t sleeping” he hiccuped before looking at you with a blush “The surprise is in my pants” he admitted, his already flushed cheeks lighting up into a vibrant red. You would just stare at him for a moment, trying to gauge if it was a joke or not, but the look on his face read clear that it was really in his pants. “Here, I’ll do it” he slurred, stumbling to get up and keep his balance.

Watching him fumble with his belt, he would quickly strip it and drop it onto the floor. Biting your lip some, you would lean back and enjoy the show. The way the male was so flustered he couldn’t even look you in the eye, or how his hands were betraying him and giving him nothing but struggle when he tried to unbutton his pants. He seemed to finally get it though, and he would look up at you once more before shrugging his pants down and lifting his shirt up a bit so you could see.

Blinking a few times, you would stare at the males groin covered with a pair of women's yellow lace panties. They fit snugly on his hips and show a very prominent outline of his cock. “Denki..” you’d mutter out “You’ve been.. Wearing panties?” you asked, which caused him to stumble a little, but he was quickly able to catch himself on the arm of the sofa. “E-Ever since you made me wear those clothes.. I can’t help but.. Like them” he muttered out helplessly, which made you smile a bit “That’s adorable” you’d reply moving your head to the side to see how the panties lifted his ass.

“You brought me all the way here, just to show me your.. Panties?” you’d ask with a smirk, only for him to quickly sit down and shake his head “N-No! Well… yeah.. But I also wanted to try and get you back, I know you like this, and I want you to want me” he pouted, which made you lick your lips “Denki.. I liked you even before the women's clothing, yes this is a little bonus, but I wouldn’t dislike you if you didn’t like wearing them” you said patting his cheek with a gentle smile.

Nodding some, the blonde would hug onto you once again and kiss your cheek “Mn..stay the night with me, we can talk more” he slurred.

Rolling your eyes some, you would purse your lips “I think we should wait to talk more, but I will crash here with you” you’d say untangling yourself from his arms and pulling him up, you would wrap an arm around his waist “Let’s go cuddle, okay? We’ll talk in the morning” you would coo sweetly.

Denki nodded and leaned some of his weight on you as you two made your way down the hall.

#bnha denki kaminari #bnha denki #bnha kaminari #bnha kaminari x reader #bnha denki x reader #bnha smut #mha denki kaminari #mha smut #mha denki x reader #mha kaminari #my hero academia smut #bnha fanfiction #my hero academia fanfiction

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you-a-southpaw-doll · 4 years

Text

Daddy’s Nap ~ A Negan One-Shot

Summary: Negan gets woken up from his nap…

Warning(s): Fluff. Language. Tired Negan. Slightly grumpy Negan. Soft Negan. Daddy!Negan. Dick joke. SHIRTLESS JDM GIFs and images!!

Author’s Note(s): I wrote this story this morning at 6:30 am, after I couldn’t sleep all night long. Insomnia sucks ass. Despite having a major writer’s block for the last several months, this idea hit me and I just had to type it up. I hope y’all like it!

Word Count: 2,470 words

Relationship(s): Negan x Reader.

Characters: Negan. Reader.

Taglist: @negans-network @prettyboynegan @mychemicalimagines @spnnnxangelsx @rockinkel21 @misskittycat02 @band--psycho@ofxallxwexlost @iron-halt @thamberlinawrites @ravenwings73 @lettherebepink @stoneyggirl @neganslucille87

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Story Time:

"Give me a fuckin’ minute! Fuck’s sake!”

His voice a half yell, a half sigh as he spoke. Sleep still laced his words, trying hard to cling to the syllables as he rubbed his face against the pillow before sluggishly pushing himself outta bed, leaving the soft, memory foam mattress behind. Strolling over to the thick wooden door that sealed off his quarters, Negan grunted.

The last thing he wanted was to be disturbed. It was too early for this shit. Well, too early in the afternoon, anyway. It’d been a rough day, running things in the Sanctuary. He’d had to iron a fucker’s face as a punishment that now seemed pointless at the current time. But, it had been important for him to remind his people of the rules, and the subsequent consequences of those rules being broken.

He never liked ironing people’s faces, and it always exhausted the fuck outta him, which is why he’d been napping before some fucker knocked on his door. But, he still did it. The ironing. He had to do it. As leader, it was his job. He was the one to enforce the rules in order to keep his people safe. That’s why…

His thoughts trailed off as he jerked the door open, glaring at the person on the other side, intent to rip them a new one for disturbing him and waking him from his much-needed nap.

“What the fu-” He stopped mid-sentence as he took in the sight of the person standing in the hallway, in front of him.

Reader’s P.O.V:

You cringed when you heard him cuss out loud before the noises of shuffling on the other side of the door could be heard. You hadn’t wanted to disturb him, but you had no other choice. You bit your lip as you waited for him to open the door. As soon as it was flung open, your throat closed up and your heart pounded faster in your chest and loudly in your ears.

You barely heard his faltering question when the door was no longer separating the both of y’all. You could see the concern flash over his face, quickly followed by the flash of worry as he furrowed his brow. Your eyes followed his hand as it moved from the doorframe to run through his hair that was no longer slicked back, but rather ruffled from what you could only assume was his pillow.

You watched as he ran his fingers through his hair, messing it up more. You watched his lips move, but couldn’t hear anything he was saying as the sound of your heartbeat in your ears drowned him out. He reached a hand forward and placed it on your shoulder. That seemed to calm you down real fuckin’ quick.

After a moment, you took a deep breath and blinked, looking up at him.

“Doll?” He asked again.

You shook your head. “Huh?”

He tried to hide the small smile tugging on his lips but failed. His dimples showed as he let out a soft, breathy chuckle.

“I asked what’s wrong? You ok?” He repeated his earlier questions that you hadn’t heard over the beating of your heart.

“Y-y-ye…” You started, but stopped, shaking your head. “No. I’m sorry to bother you, but…” You lifted your arms, showing him what was in them.

Negan’s eyes softened and he nodded. “Say no more, sweetheart.”

His long arms reached out and his hands gently plucked the bundle outta your arms and cradled it to him. He took a step back, giving you room to enter into his living area as he cradled the bundle in his arms. Stepping in, you watched, in awe and amusement as he held your infant son close, and started murmuring softly to the little boy.

You watched, not noticing the door closing, as your son slowly stopped wailing at the top of his little lungs as he stared, wide eyed up at the badass, bat-wielding leader of the Sanctuary. You heard Negan’s chuckle as he lowered his head and placed a soft kiss on the boy’s head. He looked up at you as your son cuddled to him, his chubby little fingers curling ‘round the hairs that covered Negan’s chest.

He smiled, dimples showing once more. “Not quite what I was fuckin’ expectin’ after being woken up from my damn nap.”

You swallowed deeply. “I…I’m sorry, sir. He’s been screaming bloody murder for the last two and a half hours. I tried everything and then some before I finally came up here.”

He smirked. “It’s no fuckin’ problem, sweetheart. Looks like he just wanted me.”

You let out a shaky laugh and nodded, shrugging. “I guess so. I dunno how you do it, but you seem to be the only one who can calm him these days.”

His smirk grew even more. “I’ve just got the touch, I guess. From the moment I met this cute little fucker and his fuckin’ beautiful as shit mother.”

You blushed, hoping he wouldn’t notice as he turned his attention back to the little boy in his arms.

“You just wanted Daddy Negan, didn’t you, little man? Hmmm? Yea. You fuckin’ did.” He chuckled as he cooed at the little boy.

He laughed softly as the boy let out a quiet giggle of his own and snuggled closer to Negan’s chest. You watched, wondering how the hell Negan managed to quiet your son, and make him giggle. As you watched the two of them, that was when you fully noticed Negan. You sucked in a quiet breath as your eyes raked over him.

He was completely shirtless, his tanned skin, chest hair, and numerous tattoos on full display. Your eyes lowered, from his chest to your sons in his arms, and still lower. You bit your lip a little bit as you took in the sight of a pair of holey blue jeans, hanging low on his hips, zipped up but unbuttoned. You could clearly see “AMERICAN EAGLE” stitched in on the dark blue waistband of his boxers he had on under his jeans.

The thick band still hung low enough to show off his abs, and the trail of hair that led to what his pants were covering. You took another breath in and tried not to stare at the developed and clearly prominent V-line of his. You forced your eyes to look lower so you wouldn’t get distracted and your thoughts wouldn’t wander more than they already had.

He was barefoot, which you had already assumed since Negan had been napping before you woke him up. He didn’t even have socks on. Not that you blamed him. It was fuckin’ hotter than Satan’s balls in a sauna on a hot July day in Georgia. The heat was also the most likely cause for the thin layer of sweat that covered his skin.

“Doll?”

You brought your eyes up to meet Negan’s once you heard his soft voice.

“Huh?” You asked.

He laughed and shook his head. “I asked if you were enjoying the view?”

You blushed harder, no longer able to idea it. “Maybe?”

His head tossed back as he let out a deep bellied laugh.

“Maybe my ass! Damn. I ain’t been checked out like that in at least 20 years, and that’s fuckin’ sayin’ somethin’ since I used to have 4 fuckin’ wives!” He smirked.

You raised a brow. “Used to?”

He nodded and grinned as he padded across the soft carpet to his bed. He plopped down on the side of the mattress that was still messed up from his nap a few minutes prior. He swung his feet up, kicking the sheets outta the way as he got comfortable, and leaned back, shifting your son so he was comfortable on Negan’s chest.

The Sanctuary’s leader patted the spot next to him, gesturing for you to settle next to him.

“Mmhhmm. Used to. I got rid of ‘em after I met you and this little munchkin a few months ago.” He said.

You walked over and laid next to him, kicking your shoes off before you climbed up in his huge ass bed, snuggling up to him. This…the three of y’all like this, in his bed…was something that happened quite often since he’d brought you to the Sanctuary 3 months ago.

From the moment Negan had found you and your newborn son, hiding out in a store, and he’d taken your screaming son in an attempt to quiet him, the little boy only quieted for Negan. He could tell you were stressed, trying not to panic from fear that the walkers would find you since your son had been screaming as loud as his little body would allow.

He’d gently taken him from your arms, staying close to you so as to keep you from panicking more as a random stranger taking your son. You’d started to protest, but quickly stopped as your son nestled to Negan’s leather jacket and quieted down the moment he was in the man’s arms. Negan had chuckled, much like he did today, while you’d let out a breath of relief, your panic washing away.

As he’d rocked your son to sleep in his arms, Negan told you about the Sanctuary, and offered to bring you both back. He’d explained the rules, and offered you the same offer he gave to anyone he came across. Only, he’d also offered you the position of being one of his wives. You’d turned that down quickly.

Explaining that you were sure he didn’t want a “wife” who had so much baggage and a child, you’d told him that you’d work for points. He didn’t hide his disappointment, but you could tell he’d respected your choice. When he brought you and your son to the old factory, he set you up in a room that you didn’t have to share, so it was just you and your little boy.

He told you, as he’d laid your sleeping son down, that if you needed anything, not to hesitate to let him know. It hadn’t been until you were in the cafeteria one morning, and someone dropped their tray, startling your little boy from his slumber, making him wail, and Negan came over and gently took him, quieting him down, that you took the man up on his offer.

After that day, it was clear that your son loved Negan and would only quiet down when he was with him. You and Negan had gotten closer during the visits y’all shared as he soothed your boy back to sleep. Many of those visits had consisted of you and Negan curled up in his bed as he held your son against his chest, rubbing his back.

Just like y’all were today. You looked up at Negan after he just dropped the bomb about his wives.

“Why?” You asked.

He shrugged. “I didn’t need them anymore. Got tired of their bullshit. It’s not like I fuckin’ loved any of them. There have been three people in my life that I loved, and I already lost one of them. I wasn’t gonna lose the other two because I wanted to keep the wives. So, I sent ‘em fuckin’ packin’. They were damn happy ‘bout it.”

“I thought Lucille was the only person you loved?” You asked softly.

You knew his first, real wife was a tough subject for him, but he’d opened up to you ‘bout her one night.

He nodded. “She was. Until I met this kid who was screamin’ his lungs out and fuckin’ freakin’ his mama out.”

He glanced at you as he kissed the little boy’s head. It hit you as to what he was saying. You swallowed deeply and your eyes searched yours. You could see it. The love in them. The emotions.

“Us?” You asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He nodded again, slowly, his eyes never leaving yours. “Mmhhmm. So, I fuckin’ let ‘em go. Just having you and this screamer…that’s all I needed. Even if you didn’t feel the same way. In a sense, you’d given me the chance to be a dad, and I wasn’t gonna fuck that up. Don’t worry. You don’t have to feel the same way. I just figured you’d wanna know the reason behind why I fuckin’ got rid of the wives. I’m content with just being here when he’s screaming so I can soothe him the fuck back to sleep.”

“I…I…” You started but when you couldn’t find the words, you just laid your head on his shoulder and stared at your son as you processed what he was saying.

Negan looked back at your little boy, who was now sound asleep and snuggled to his chest. He smiled and kissed his head when a thought struck him. Not looking away from the baby in his arms, he voiced his thought.

“Have you decided on a name yet?”

You smiled and nodded. When Negan had first found y’all, you still hadn’t given your son a name yet. Nothing seemed right for the precious baby who came into your life. Nothing, that is, until 2 months ago.

That was when you decided on the perfect name for him.

“Alexander.” You murmured, and glanced up when Negan took a breath in.

“Alexander? As in my middle name?” He blinked. “You named him after me?”

You giggled and nodded against his shoulder again. “Figured it’d be fitting for him to be named after the only man in his life. His Daddy. I just couldn’t bring myself to call him Negan too. ‘Specially not since you named your dick ‘Negan Jr.’.”

He laughed as he teared. “I can’t believe I fuckin’ told you that. But, you really named him Alexander? After me? You remembered me telling you ‘bout my middle name?”

You smiled and nodded again. “Mmhhmm. I named him after his Daddy, and the man I love.”

His eyes widened at your confession and he teared more. “Well, fuck me! This was so fuckin’ worth bein’ woken up from a nap.”

You laughed. “That’s not happenin’ right now. He just got to sleep. We are not going to risk wakin’ him up again. But, soon. We can.”

He grinned and kissed your head. “I’m gonna fuckin’ hold you to that. But I agree. What do you say we take a nap? As a family?”

You smiled and snuggled closer to him. “I’d fuckin’ like that.”

He grinned when you used his favorite fuckin’ word. Moving slightly, he wrapped an arm ‘round your shoulders and held you and the baby close. You snuggled to him and kept your head on his shoulder as you soon dozed off too.

“My family.” He murmured, a silly grin on his face. “I love my fuckin’ family.”

#Daddy's Nap #A Negan One-Shot #Jeffrey Dean Morgan #Jeffrey Dean Morgan One-Shot #Jeffrey Dean Morgan Fluff #JDM #JDM One-Shot #JDM Fluff #Negan #Negan One-Shot #Negan Fluff #The Walking Dead One-Shot #The Walking Dead Fluff #The Walking Dead #TWD #TWD One-Shot #TWD Fluff

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smooshjames · 4 years

Text

forget you not (epilogue)

‘cause we’ve come, we’ve come so far, oh, baby (or: a second chance)

word count: 4k

a/n: i finally got my butt in gear and wrote the epilogue of forget you not! i still don’t think i’m 100% happy with how it came out, but if i edit / re-write it any more my head will explode. a reminder that i didn’t write any of the songs mentioned in this story (they all belong to little mix). and here are the links to this chapter’s songs: x, x, x. while we’re on the topic of links, here’s one to my ko-fi in case you want to buy me a coffee. no pressure if you can’t (or just don’t want to), i’m just glad you guys take the time to read my work. i hope you enjoy, and thank you for all the overwhelming support, it means the world to me <3

warnings: blink-and-you’ll-miss-it angst (i couldn’t help myself), i think that’s it ?? this is just a lot of fluff and the happy ending we deserve

previous parts: one, two, three, four, five

You called exactly one week later.

It was around six o’clock (nine o’clock for you, Shayne noted). He had just gotten home from work and was contemplating what to have for dinner when his phone started buzzing. He pulled it out of his pocket disinterestedly, figuring it was probably Damien or his mom. When he saw your name on his phone screen, however, his heart nearly stopped beating.

He took a deep breath and answered the call.

“Hey,” he said. He sounded mildly out of breath and hoped desperately that you wouldn’t notice. “What’s up?”

“I said I’d call,” you said. Your voice was shaky, your tone unsure. You were putting emphasis on all the wrong syllables. Shayne could picture you in his head; you on your couch in your nice New York apartment, dressed in something comfortable, a vision of natural beauty.

Shayne didn’t reply, just silently willed you to continue. He sat down on the couch.

“Um… it was fun. The sex, I mean.” There was a long pause. Shayne held his breath. “I would… next time one of us is in town, I think it would be good to hang out again. Maybe we can get to know each other again.” Another long pause. “Get to know each other like hanging out and talking, I mean, not like… not like wink-wink getting to know each other, not that I don’t want to have sex with you again, I just…” You stopped again, and he could practically see the grimace on your face. “Jesus, okay. I’m gonna stop talking now.”

Shayne grinned so wide he thought his face might get stuck that way.

“Okay,” he said. “I’d like that.”

Another pause, one which could have lasted three seconds or three years.

“I’m really glad we got to see each other again,” he said. He was careful to keep his tone light, decidedly avoiding any words that might send the I still love you vibe. He didn’t want to push the boat out on another chance with you too soon, but absence absolutely makes the heart grow fonder. There was a part of him that already had the color scheme for your wedding planned, a part of him that felt sure you’d give him a second chance. After all, you’d spent the night together, and now you were calling him back. That had to mean something, right?

But he knew, rationally, that you were still smarting from what had happened all those years ago, and he knew that you had every right to be. He figured you would want to take things slow.

And then, before his brain could really think about it, his mouth said: “I want… I really want to try again, if you… if you want to. I think we could do things right this time.”

So much for taking things slow.

There was another long silence. Shayne was almost certain his heart was going to pound out of his chest.

“I want to try again, too,” you said. Shayne felt his shoulder sag in relief. “I’ve missed you a lot. But, um, it’s late here and I worked all day. I should get ready for bed. I’ll have Michelle look at my schedule tomorrow and we can figure out a good time for me to fly back out there, okay?”

“Okay,” he said. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight, Shayne.”

The line went dead. Shayne sat back on his couch and stared up at his ceiling in wonder. A second chance. He couldn’t fucking believe it.

All he had to do now was get it right this time.

***

A month passed, and then two, and then six. You and Shayne flew from New York to LA and back more times than you could count. You squeezed texting, calling, and facetiming into every spare second. Shayne made himself endlessly available to you, and you did the same for him. You were constantly in trouble with Michelle for getting distracted during interviews and meetings and recording sessions. Rumors circulated that there was a man in your life, which, for a while, you didn’t confirm or deny.

You knew that you’d have to go public eventually, something you discussed with Shayne early on in your second attempt. You were both far more in the public eye now than you’d been five years ago, which meant people would put pieces together sooner than you wanted them to. Finally, after two months, the two of you decided it was time to call it official. Instagram posts went up, fans lost their minds, the comments of your Smosh video were dominated almost exclusively with references to you and Shayne.

At the four-month mark, you discussed moving out to LA permanently. You’d still be spending a lot of time apart while the band toured, but you would at least be able to go home to him full-time in between the months on the road.

Carly asked if it felt a little soon, and you told her it didn’t. If your first attempt at a relationship with Shayne had been more-or-less a strong one (save for the end), this attempt was iron-clad. Shayne had matured more than you ever could’ve hoped for. The years apart made him wiser, more willing to confront his feelings and his issues. And in your five years of being single, you had found something infinitely more valuable than a shiny new relationship: self-worth. You knew what you deserved, and a happy, loving relationship was one of those things. You no longer lived in fear of Shayne running off at the first sign of someone better than you. You were far more willing to fight for yourself and for your relationship.

You spent a couple of months deliberating whether you’d move to LA. The time it took you to think was in part caused by some hesitation, but more than anything caused by the fact that the band was recording a new album. You couldn’t think about much of anything besides choruses and hooks and beats.

Your hang-ups about the move were more practical than anything; it wasn’t that you didn’t want to move, it was that cross-country moves were infamously stressful and problem-filled. Not to mention, the rest of the band still lived in New York, which might cause professional complications (and would most certainly cause personal heartache; you weren’t necessarily ecstatic about living almost 3,000 miles from your best friends).

You finally made the decision during a late-night, insomnia-induced facetime call. You called Shayne at four in the morning one night after tossing and turning for hours. He picked up on the third ring, and you could tell immediately that he had been asleep; his surroundings were completely blacked out, his face only visible from the light of his phone screen. He was squinting at the screen, face scrunched up in a way that made your heart swell with the urge to kiss him, as his eyes adjusted to the brightness. And when he spoke, his voice was gruff with disuse.

“Hey,” he said. He didn’t seem the slightest bit upset at being woken up, but there was definite concern on his face. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” you replied, “I’m sorry to wake you. I can’t sleep. I wanted to see you.”

If you lived in LA, whispered the ever-present voice in the back of your mind, you wouldn’t have to call him to see him. If you lived in LA, you’d be fast asleep in his arms right now.

Shayne hummed sympathetically and you heard the blankets rustling as he rolled over on his back. The angle was about as unflattering as it could have possibly been, but you didn’t care. In fact, you loved him all the more for it.

“I’m sorry, baby,” he said. His words were just slightly slurred, like his tongue was still heavy from sleep. “What’s keeping you awake?”

You sighed and scrubbed a hand over your eyes. “I don’t really know,” you replied. “A lot of things, I guess. It’s been a couple of weeks since we saw each other last, so I’ve been trying to find a good time to fly out there, but I’m completely booked for the next few months. The new album has been kicking our asses and we’re nowhere near where we need to be if we’re gonna make the deadline, so we’ve been working all hours, which means everyone’s sleep schedules are completely fucked. I’m pretty sure Alexis and Piper are still at the studio right now.”

He hummed low in his throat again, nodding slowly. There was a moment where he seemed to be debating which part of your speech to address first. “Well, don’t worry too much about flying out. You know I love seeing you in person, but I don’t want making time for me to be too stressful for you. I’m perfectly content with long-distance if that’s what you need to do.”

You smiled despite yourself. Shayne had established this rule early-on; you never needed to worry about going to see him if going to see him would jeopardize your work or your personal wellbeing. If you couldn’t handle the stress of a flight across the country, he would either come to you or you’d just make texting and calling work until one of you could get on a plane.

But in this instance (and in every other instance), you didn’t want to see him in person just so that he would be satisfied. You wanted to see him in person because seeing him in person was infinitely better than seeing him through the phone. You wanted to be there when he got home from work, to kiss him goodnight and good morning, to fall asleep next to him.

“I’m gonna move out there,” you said, surprising even yourself with the conviction in your tone.

“What?” he asked. The camera shook for a moment and you imagined he was sitting up in bed. “Seriously?”

You nodded. “Seriously. I’ll talk to everyone tomorrow and then I’ll call you and we can figure out the logistics. I need to be with you, Shayne. I think now’s as good a time as there’ll ever be.”

***

It took a month of you living together for Shayne to track down the old ring. He’d kept it all these years, though he could never quite put a finger on why. At least, until now.

As he rifled through his closet searching for the little blue box, he knew exactly why he’d kept it. For five years, he’d hoped against hope that you would come back to him. He’d hoped that despite it all, you could still be soulmates, just like he’d known you were before he went and fucked it up.

He found the box. It was a little dusty, but the ring inside was preserved perfectly. He moved it from the bottom of his closet to the back corner of his sock drawer, which felt like a more appropriate hiding place for a ring that was no longer going unused (hopefully).

You were currently back in New York to finish recording the new album, and then you would begin tour rehearsals in LA. The reasons for that were threefold; first, there was a choreographer based in LA that you desperately wanted to work with; second, the tour would kick off in LA, so it made sense to do the rehearsals in the place you would start; and third, you had convinced the rest of the band to do it in LA so that you could be close to Shayne. They, being your best friends and considering the other two reasons, had agreed happily. The proximity was good for Shayne, not only because it meant he got to spend time with you, but because it meant he could consult Carly. He figured that if anyone would know if you were ready to marry him, it would be her.

A week or so into tour rehearsals, the two of you hosted a dinner party at your apartment. You invited the Smosh Squad, the band, and a few other mutual friends. It was a challenge fitting everyone into the small space, but you made it work.

Shayne managed to find Carly after dinner was over and everyone had broken up to mingle. You were occupied with Olivia, Courtney, and Piper, and Carly was only talking to Damien, so Shayne figured it was his golden opportunity.

He sidled up to Carly and Damien and shot Damien a Hey man, you know what I’m about to do look (Damien was well aware of his plans, of course; Shayne had texted him the very second marriage popped into his head). Damien nodded.

“Hey, Carly,” Shayne said. She gave him a barely-civil look and took a sip of her drink. She still didn’t entirely trust him, which Shayne couldn’t blame her for; the way he understood it, she had been the one to pick up the pieces of the mess he made. He knew she was only playing nice with him for your sake. “Can I talk to you in private?”

“Sure,” she replied. She narrowed her eyes at him, obviously suspicious, even as she gestured for him to begin walking. “Lead the way.”

Shayne beckoned her into the bedroom, which was the only place not occupied by dinner guests, and rifled around in his sock drawer until he found the ring. He turned and presented it to Carly.

She choked on her drink.

“You’re going to propose?” she asked, volume just lower than a shout, obviously incredulous. Shayne shushed her frantically and glanced over to the open archway into the living room, thoroughly regretting not closing the door and praying to God that no one had heard. “Sorry, I just… Jesus, okay.” And then, in a much more reasonable tone of voice: “You’re going to propose?”

“I’m thinking about proposing,” Shayne corrected her. He set the ring back in his sock drawer. “I haven’t made my mind up yet. I don’t want to ask and freak her out. I figured you might know her thoughts on it.”

Carly narrowed her eyes at him, appraising. Shayne got the disturbing feeling that she could see straight into his soul; it was like she was looking through him, not at him. He shifted uncomfortably.

“Y/N is my best friend,” Carly said after a few seconds. Shayne nodded his understanding but didn’t dare speak. “After you destroyed her -- and you did destroy her, and it was your fault, even as much as she’s tried time and time again to convince me otherwise -- I was there for her. I have seen her at her lowest, most desperate points, and I have seen her at her most joyful. She is my best friend. She is my sister.

“All this to say, Shayne, that if you hurt her again, I can and will -- in fact, I am obligated to -- make your death look like an accident.”

Shayne nodded again, struck speechless. He was reminded of a conversation he’d had with you some time ago: he’d mentioned that he thought Carly didn’t like him, and you had conceded that she didn’t. But, you’d said, don’t worry too much. She’s all bark and no bite, and she just cares. She’ll come around to you.

As she stood in front of him now, fire in her eyes, tension in her shoulders, chin held high, Shayne was absolutely convinced that this woman was 100% bite. She quirked an eyebrow, waiting for him to speak. He was somehow more intimidated by Carly than he had been by your family.

“I love her, too,” he said. “That’s one thing we have in common. I know that I hurt her, and not a day goes by that I don’t regret it. I should’ve done things so much differently five years ago, I know that, and I’m sorry I didn’t. But by some miracle, she’s given me a second chance, and I’m not gonna fuck it up this time. I want to marry her with everything I have, Carly. I need to know that she’ll say yes.”

There was another silent moment as Carly appraised him. She glanced over at the sock drawer, where the ring was safely tucked away, and then back to him. “Okay,” she said. Shayne’s shoulders sagged in relief. “Here’s what we’re gonna do.”

***

You rehearsed for two months before the first concert of the new tour. In the week leading up to it, you were riddled with nerves; you were exhausted from long rehearsals and yet you couldn’t sleep, you had to force yourself to eat, you had dreams of getting on stage and forgetting all your choreography, or, worse, the lyrics to your own songs.

Shayne did his best to help you. He stayed up with you when you were having insomnia, even if his work suffered for it the following day, and he brought you food sometimes when rehearsals ran past your allotted lunch or dinner break. He was a godsend.

Finally, the big day arrived; it was the opening night of your tour. The new album had been out for a couple of weeks and it was doing well so far. The concert hall was slightly bigger than the one you’d performed at last time you were in LA. But sitting in your dressing room with shaking hands, about to attend the pre-show meet and greet, the nervous churning in your gut felt eerily similar to the way it felt eight months prior.

And, like eight months prior, Carly came to collect you. You walked with her down the hallway and to the meet and greet room, which had an almost identical setup; white backdrop and four stools on one side, camera equipment and a friendly man named Rob on the other.

You and the rest of the band gave Michelle the all-clear to let guests in, and the meet and greet began.

It was around the halfway mark when the door opened and you heard familiar voices walking in. Your face split into a wide grin as Noah, Keith, Olivia, Courtney, Damien, Ian, and Shayne rounded the backdrop. All of you had grown pretty close over the last few months, between you living with Shayne and occasionally visiting him at work. You had actually been in talks with Ian to appear on a SmoshCast once the tour was over.

Hugs were exchanged between the band and all your friends. You greeted Shayne with a kiss on the cheek, and Courtney with the complicated secret handshake you two had been working on.

The entire massive group took a photo together, and then your adoring fans left to find their seats. Your heart felt lighter for having seen them, and knowing that they would be in the audience worked wonders to calm your nerves. It was the exact opposite effect of your last meet and greet experience with Shayne.

The meet and greet ended, mic check passed, and the beginning of the concert approached. You took a deep breath. You did your pre-show ritual. You got into places. The concert began.

The first half of the show went off without a hitch. The fans were obviously loving it, and you (miraculously) remembered everything you were supposed to do. You were constantly glancing back at Shayne and your friends, both for comfort and to make sure they were enjoying themselves. Occasionally, you’d make eye contact with one of them and they’d flash you enthusiastic thumbs-ups. Every time you looked at Shayne, without fail, he was looking back at you, which made your heart beat just that much faster.

As you were introducing Your Love, though, you glanced over and saw that Shayne was no longer sitting with the group. You frowned but figured he had gone to the bathroom. Damien flashed you a grin and a thumbs-up from his seat next to Shayne’s.

The song began and you didn’t have time to think about anything else as you started to sing: “Luxurious lovin’ like Egyptian cotton, if I ain’t got nothing, least I got you.”

This particular song hadn’t been written with Shayne in mind, but it was hard to think of anything else as you sang the lovey-dovey lyrics. Every time you glanced over at his seat, though, he was still gone. It wasn’t that big of a deal, you knew, but you were somewhat saddened by the fact that you couldn’t serenade him (or at least make eye contact with him) while you sang.

Alexis had the second verse. You were swaying to the beat and moving across the stage to your mark when you felt a tap on your shoulder. You almost ignored it and kept moving; you were in show mode, so you chalked it up at first to a backup dancer brushing against you or something of the sort. But then you took in your surroundings and stopped in your tracks.

Alexis was still singing, but she and the rest of the band had turned their eyes to you. In fact, everyone on stage was looking at you. The audience was screaming, and you thought you heard your name a few times, but it was impossible to make anything out, and a screaming audience at a concert wasn’t exactly unusual. Your heart still plummeted, though, and you wondered if you’d done something wrong. You made eye contact with Piper, standing off to your right, and she nodded encouragingly and motioned toward you as if to say turn around.

You did, and what you saw almost made you drop your mic. Your jaw practically hit the floor.

There, on one knee in front of you, was Shayne. He was holding a little blue box, and inside the box was the most beautiful ring you’d ever seen. He was smiling up at you, hope and adoration in his eyes. As your band-mates launched into the second chorus of the song, you nodded enthusiastically and allowed Shayne to put the ring on your finger. The audience was going insane. He pulled you into a tight hug.

“I promise I’m gonna get it right this time. I love you so much,” he said. You nodded against him. When he pulled back, he laughed softly and reached up to wipe his thumb over your cheek; you realized with a start that you were crying. “Happy tears?” he asked, just loudly enough that you could make it out over the noise.

You nodded and leaned in to kiss him. You weren’t normally big on PDA, and you were pretty sure kissing in front of a concert hall full of people definitely counted as PDA, but you figured you could make an exception just this once. When you pulled away and brought the mic back up to your mouth to sing, you kept one arm around his shoulders and hardly took your eyes off him. You could feel yourself missing your choreography, but you didn’t care. Your world had narrowed to just the two of you. Shayne, the love of your life, your fiancé, standing next to you with the biggest smile you’d ever seen, looking at you like you were his everything.

You finished the song and kissed Shayne again before he had to get offstage. He leaned in to whisper in your ear, “I’ll see you after the show. Knock ‘em dead, beautiful.”

And then he went backstage. A minute later, you saw him return to his seat in the audience, where he was almost immediately engulfed in a patented Damien Bear Hug. You smiled at your friends and then turned back to the audience. They had only marginally quieted down since the end of the song. You brought the mic to your mouth. “I’m engaged, ya’ll!”

A fresh round of cheering erupted and your band-mates rushed over to wrap you in a group hug. You felt another few tears spill over and wiped them away. You’d only felt joy like this a handful of times, and it more than made up for all the sadness Shayne had caused you.

You knew, as you launched into Nothing Else Matters, that this was the beginning of a long, happy future. Your life with Shayne would, of course, have its ups and downs, but after everything, you knew this for sure: with him by your side, you could weather any storm that came your way. And he was more than worth it.

#shayne topp x reader #shayne topp #eliza.txt #forget you not

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micahscowgirl · 4 years

Text

Bite Me ~ Chapter 4

Micah Bell x f!reader

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Cursing, Male Masturbation, Choking, Biting, Blood

Word Count: 3700

Sorry I haven’t uploaded in awhile! Been really busy and have had too many people around to just openly write fanfics. I hope this chapter pleases all of my readers <3. I am open to suggestions for the story and am accepting asks as well now, too! I am going to try and open up to new things like headcannons and shorts. Let me know what you think! Asks and inbox are always opened! Love you guys!

Also, this was proofed very quick, if you see any mistakes, let me know and I’ll take care of them!

Micah carried you to the room; he didn't want to wake you. Once inside, he laid you on the bed and covered you up. As he started to turn, you made a whining noise and kicked off the covers.

"Pants," you say, slurring the word. "No pants."

Micah shakes his head and smiles, "God, you're drunk." He obeys your command and slides your pants off. He was being nice for once. It was probably the alcohol and excitement from your little show you threw. After throwing your pants to the other side of the bed, he plops himself in a chair that stood in the corner of the room. He hated his insomnia. It made his nights dreadfully long. He would usually find a few sorry folks on the roads to rob, but he had to stay with you tonight. He didn't know why he felt that he needed to; you were such a smart ass towards him, he should want to avoid you. He would've said he almost hated you the day before when you embarrassed him in front of Charles. All he aimed for was to upset you. You deserved it after all. At the same time, there was that part of him that wanted to own you, have you falling at his feet. He hated that you were different.

He watched you lying there. He had pulled the cover back after sliding off your pants. You were lying on your back, arms laying on either side of your head. Your chest was lifting and falling in a peaceful rhythm. After a while, you began to squirm, turning onto your belly. He thought it was funny how you could appear drunk even in your sleep. He pulled out one of his pistols and began to clean it. He had a long night ahead of him.

He was stopped suddenly when you released a small, dreamy moan. You were caught up in your thoughts, so wound up in your fantasies that they were surfacing for him to hear. He looked up at you and started to think of your moans from earlier. As you were pleasured by the saloon girl, you had said his name. Moaned it, more like. You had been grinding on her, but looking deep in his eyes. He wished so bad that he was that girl. Except he wouldn't have been so gentle. He still needed to punish you for your actions.

Before he knew it, his pants were becoming much tighter. "Dammit, doll, what are you doing to me?" It had been so long since he had been with a woman, and especially long since he'd been with one he didn't pay for. He stands and leaves to the washroom. Thankfully, there was no one in the halls, so he didn't have to hide his growing erection.

He closes the door and paces around the room. ‘What the fuck is wrong with you?’ he thinks to himself. ‘That damn woman. She needs to stop getting into your head. She knows what she's doing. You're foolish to think she actually wants you. She's just playing one of her sick games.’ There's a chest up against the wall that he sits down on. He grips his member through his pants, trying to get it to go away. His thoughts won't leave him alone. He feels himself throb harder under his palm. "Fuck." As much as he tries to fool himself, he really doesn't want it to leave.

He undoes his button and zipper and frees his throbbing cock. He squeezes, spits on it, and begins to stroke. He keeps thinking of you grinding, and then bouncing. In his thoughts, you’re on his lap, not hers. As he starts to pick up the pace, he thinks of your hands. His cock would look so good in them. And in your mouth... He grits his teeth, his breath is picking up. Your tight body, your wicked, evil smile. The tip of his dick begins to release the first of his juices. You're so hardheaded, would you hold back your screams to torture him, or would you let them all out? He thinks of how you whimpered when he cut you. He wanted to torture you, spank you, and make you whimper more. He would be in control and you would do as he says.

He feels himself getting closer. He wanted to hear you scream as he pounded you from behind, the sound of skin slapping skin. He would reach up and grab your throat, continuing to push into you harder and harder. He wanted to choke you. You deserved it. You were going to get what you had coming for you. In his mind, he could hear you screaming his name while you tighten around him when you hit your climax.

That thought was the last before he spilled himself all over the floor. "Dear God, Y/N."

He sat there for a few minutes, trying to return to normal breathing, and then stood, sticking his soft member back into his pants. After finally composing himself, he returns to your room, leaving his mess on the floor.

When he enters the room, he sees that you have kicked the blankets down again. He walks over and pulls them back up, not wanting the sight of your body sending his thoughts venturing again. After pulling his jacket off, he sits back in the chair. You aren't making any more noise and you've stopped shifting around. He focuses on your breathing, the perfect, peaceful rhythm. Keeping his breathing at the same pace, he finally let his head fall, and, for the first time in weeks, he slept.

~~~~~~

You awoke the next morning, a throbbing headache already overwhelming you. "Dammit," you say as you sat up, a sharp pain in the side of your head causing you to wince. "What happened last night?" You throw your legs off the edge of the bed, rubbing your palms on your temples. "I ain't never felt this bad." You notice that your pants are lying on the floor, and your holster is hanging over a chair next to the bed. Parts of last night start to return to you. You had robbed a house with Micah; Dutch had sent the two of you together. ‘Wait, where's Micah, then?’ You think to yourself.

You stand up and pull your pants on. As you're securing your holster on, you notice your jacket hanging on a coatrack next to the door. You pull it off and see that Micah's was underneath it. There was no sign of him at the saloon anymore, so he must have forgotten it. After sliding your coat on, you grab his and head out of the room. According to your pocket watch, it's almost noon. The saloon is almost empty, excluding two men at the bar and one speaking with the barber that had a shop in the back.

You nod to the bartender on your way out. "Hey, girl." You approach your horse, patting her on the shoulder. You reach into your satchel to find some crackers for her when you gasp. Inside, there was a huge bundle of cash and a jewelry bag that's almost bursting. There's a note tucked in with the cash. You pull it out and read it. The writing was sloppy, but you could still make it out.

Doubt you remember much from last night, you were hammered, but we made quite a fortune off that house Dutch told us to hit. You mentioned keeping almost all of it after about 3 beers last night. Not sure if you'd have the same opinion when you woke up, so I just gave you all of it to make that decision. I still want my share depending on what you do. I'll see you back at camp, Doll. I have some business to take care of. -M

You look back into your bag at the money again. You can't help but chuckling a little. Not just at the idea of how much money you now had on you, but also at the note he had left. It was too nice to be the Micah you knew. What happened last night? You don't remember much after returning to the saloon. Maybe he still had some alcohol in his blood when he wrote it. That must've been it.

~~~~~~

You dismounted your horse, leaving her next to Arthur's. Jack was sitting nearby, picking some flowers. "Whatcha doing there, bud." You say while approaching him. He looks up at you and smiles.

"Picking flowers. Mama's been sad today, so I want to give her flowers!" He says, holding them up for you to see. "I like the yellow ones best, but I only have four of them."

"Well, I think I might recall seeing some near Pearson's wagon. Might want to check there."

"Really?" He says, jumping to his feet. I'll go look!" He starts to hurry off. You smile at the sight of his run, missing the days when all that mattered was where to find the best flowers.

You make your way over to Dutch's tent. He's sitting inside on his bed reading a book. Or, trying to read a book, that is. Miss O'Shea is fussing about who-knows-what. She always seems to be upset about something.

"Knock knock," You say as you walk in. Molly gives you a small snarl. Dutch looks up from his book at you.

"Great, give your attention to your little errand girl. I only must wonder what she's offering you for you to show so much interest in her. You probably know every bit of what's hiding under those clothes of hers." Before Dutch can say anything, she turns sharply and stomps off.

Dutch stands, lying his book on the bed. "I'm sorry about her, she doesn't know how to hold her tongue."

"She's just stressed. She probably feels that it's her job to try to relieve you of all the stress that you carry." As much as you dislike, Miss O'Shea, you don't feel it's appropriate to express those opinions, especially to Dutch. He just shakes his head, opening a new box of cigars. You don't want to linger on the subject, so you continue. "Micah and I paid a visit to that house last night." You reach into your bag and pull out the jewelry bag, which you had emptied more than half of on your way back. You hand it to him, and then pull out $200, which was just a small portion of what you actually made away with. You hold it while he looks in the bag and then hand it to him when he's done. He doesn't say much while he counts it.

"Where's Micah?" He finally says.

The question caught you off-guard. "W-What? Oh, I-I'm not sure." He turns and places the take on his bed.

"Did he put you up to this?"

"Pardon?"

He turns to look at you. "I may not have known you very long, but I can tell when you're lying." He walks up to you, only about a foot away, he seems to tower over you. "Micah set you up to this?"

You take a deep, quiet breath. You can remain calm in front of Micah, you can do the same to Dutch. "What are you accusing me of, boss?"

He starts to walk around you, taking a slow drag from his fresh cigar. "You know? I would've easily expected this from him, but never of you." He's facing you again. "Uncle told me exactly what the man said. The house you to robbed was sitting on a lot more than this."

You remain still, not showing him that he's right. "That's what he told us, too. But that's all we found. Must've had the rest of his fortune locked up tight somewhere. Micah and I looked as much as we could while they were asleep. We're doing our best without being shot or thrown in jail. Now, if you'll excuse me." You walk away from him, but are stopped quick when Dutch grabs your shoulder. This is the first time that Dutch has ever made you feel unsafe.

"Don't let him change you, Y/N. He's not a good influence, especially for someone as talented and special as you." He leans closer to you and whispers. "I let you come with us; join our family. Just remember that." He releases your shoulder and you walk out of his tent without saying anything else. You can't help but feel guilty.

~~~~~

Later that evening, you were sitting next to the fire. Javier was strumming at his guitar--not in any particular rhythm, but just playing with different chords. You were waiting for Micah to return. His share was still in your tent. You had removed it from your bag and hid it in your suitcase, tucked in with your undergarments. Hopefully, if anyone went snooping, they wouldn't find it. You hadn't seen any sight of him. Your thoughts kept falling back to Dutch. He had angered you and hurt you, even though you were guilty of what he was accusing you of.

Arthur and Charles were sitting nearby, talking about a hunting trip they were going to be taking the next day. After they were done, Arthur stood to walk away, when he spotted you. He walked over, and took a seat on the ground, leaning against the log you were sitting on. "Heard the house wasn't as good as Uncle led us to believe." You began to get hot. "Dutch was telling me about it."

You snap slightly, not getting loud enough to draw any attention. "What did he tell you?"

Surprised at your reaction, Arthur studders back, "I-I don't--nothing I don't guess." He looks down, you can tell he was genuinely shocked, meaning Dutch hadn't shared his thoughts.

"I'm sorry," you say, standing up quickly and hurrying away.

"Wait," He says. "Y/N, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to intrude." He gets up quickly and follows you to your tent. He pushes back the flap and sees you sitting on the cheap, ragged rug you have covering the dirt, leaning up against your cot. Your arms are propped on your knees and your head is leaning down towards the ground. He walks over and crouches down in front of you.

"I didn't mean to upset you, miss. You shouldn't blame yourself for a bad lead." You glance up at him.

You shake your head, "It's not that, it's just..." you pause, trying to find the best words. "I guess it's just been a weird day. Dutch just seemed upset with the take, he was expecting it to be much more as well," you lie, not wanting to admit how the conversation with Dutch had actually gone. "I just hate to let him down." You sigh.

"Now, Y/N, Dutch ain't one to hold things like that against you, you should know that. He's here to look out for us and he'll support us regardless." You can't help but think of Dutch's aggressiveness when he had grabbed your shoulder. Only you knew how much you had upset him. But that wasn't the only reason you were upset.

"Arthur?" you ask. He lifts his eyebrows in acknowledgment. "Did Micah mention any sort of 'business' he might have had to attend to? I haven't seen him since last night." You leave out the part that you couldn't even remember seeing him the night before, you're memory was still trying to find it's way back to you. "I still have his share from the job to give him." And also you wanted to give him a piece of your mind for convincing you to keep most of the take. There was no way that was actually your idea.

"No, not really. I try my best to avoid the asshole." He chuckles. "You probably already know that though."

You smile. "Yeah, I guess so. Well, anyway, I guess I'm going to call it a night." He nods and stands up.

"I'm probably going to do the same."

You say your goodbyes and pull the flap of your tent closed. You sat down on the cot and pulled off your pants, keeping your shirt on, too exhausted to change it. You figured that you wouldn't sleep because of how worked up you had become, but once you laid down, you were out almost instantly.

~~~~~~

It was midnight when you were woken up. There were branches snapping behind your tent, almost directly next to your cot. Keeping still, you listen carefully. The steps don't belong to an animal. The steps move around your tent, coming closer to the entrance. You act fast, quietly pulling out from under the covers, you swing your feet off of the bed and hurry to grab your knife and crouch behind a chest you have placed next to the door. The steps come to a halt right outside and you hold your breath. Your tent is on the outskirts of the camp so you're easily the easiest target for wandering bandits. Or even worse, the O'Driscolls. After what felt like forever, the flap was pulled over and a man stepped in. He was wearing a leather coat you'd never seen anyone at camp wear. The collar was pulled up so you couldn't get a look at his face. He walked over to your bed and pulled the cover back. He reached down and picked up Micah's coat.

"Anyone ever teach you that it's not okay to steal?"

"Dammit, Micah! You need to quit scaring the shit out of me!" You say as he turns around to face you.

"You gonna answer my question?" He begins to move towards you. As you stand up he continues, "This ain't yours, dollface." He holds the coat up.

"Well you left--" He reaches forward and grabs the front of your shirt, startling you.

"You obviously don't know that if something don't belong to you, you don't take it." He pulls you forward, you're just inches from his face. "I gotta teach you a lesson; punish you for your actions."

He lets your shirt go and slides his hand up onto your neck. He's not grabbing tight, but it still takes your breath away. Your lips quiver and legs shake just slightly, but it's the reaction he was hoping for. The feelings of wanting him return instantly. You needed him.

"Now let's see," He starts, "Why don't you take that shirt of yours off, show me what you've been hiding under there."

"O-okay," you say and lift your hands, beginning the buttons from the top.

"Sir," He says.

"Huh?"

"Call me sir."

"Oh, y-yes, Sir." He nods, watching you undo the buttons on your shirt. You finish, and pull it off your shoulders and let it fall to the floor. You were wearing a worn corset underneath. He moves his hand from your neck.

"Turn," he says. You do as he says. You can still feel where his fingers were holding on your skin and you could almost beg to have them back. He undoes your corset, pulling it off and throwing it over to your bed. He runs his hands up your back, almost causing you to whimper. You have never wanted someone so bad in your life. He walks around you, standing back to get a full view of you, standing there, completely under his control.

He steps forward, coming close to you once again. He doesn't grab you or feel you like you so badly want him to. He simply raises a hand and touches the fading bruise on your chest. "That's what you get for being so dirty, playing a little trick on me." He then moves his finger over to your other breast. There is another bruise there, a smaller, pinker one. Where did that come from?

"And that was caused by another little trick you played on me. I doubt you remember that, though. I can see the confusion on your face." He draws a line up to your neck. You gulp, and he smiles. "Tell me you're sorry and maybe I'll let you be."

You look up and him. You didn't want him to leave. You want to provoke him. "I'm not sorry, Sir. You had it coming for you."

Immediately, he grabs your jaw and pulls you closer. It hurts, but you want it. "What was that, dollface? 'Fraid I misheard you."

"You deserved everything I gave you."

"Wrong answer."

He moves your face away from him, giving him full access to your neck. He leans in and bites you. A shocked breath and whimper escape your throat. Your underwear felt drenched. You were craving him. He had broken skin and was sucking on the tender spot right above your collarbone. Your arms move up and grab onto his coat, trying to pull him closer to you. Your hips move on their own, trying to grind against him. "M-Micah," You say softly, in between gasps.

He pulls away from you and looks deep into your eyes. You notice a small bit of blood on his mustache. He reaches up, drawing a finger against his bite. It stings, but you don't notice. He has you in a trance. He pulls his finger away and licks the blood--your blood--off, smiling.

"What's the matter, doll?" He says in his deep, raspy voice. "You're trembling like crazy." He brushes his fingers up your arm.

"Micah..." you begin, except you don't know what you mean to say. Everything has caught you by surprise.

He leans in once more, whispering in your ear, "I hope you've learned your lesson." After pulling away, he turns and leaves, leaving you standing there, completely shocked and turned on. So many emotions pass through you in an instant; disappointment, happiness, sadness, and lust. But most of all, you knew that you were going to have to return the favor. Make him completely subjective to you, and then leave.

You eventually pull your shirt back on and lay down. The adrenaline begins to leave you, and you are asleep within minutes.

#micah bell smut #micah bell #micah bell x reader #rdr2 #red dead redemption #smut #rdr2 fanfic

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