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bunnis-monsters · 4 months ago

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Sacrificial Heifer

Bull Hybrids x Cow Hybrid!Reader

Commissioned by: @yuriohoe04

WC: 1k

A/N: Only 2 more slots for my commissions rn! Make sure to get them while you can. Once my comms are closed I won’t be opening them again until all my comms are finished ^^

Warnings: dubcon, breeding, lactation, pregnancy, gangbang

🥛 🥛🥛🥛🥛🥛🥛🥛🥛🥛🥛🥛🥛🥛🥛🥛🥛

It had been a week since the farmer announced that you and your barn mates were ready to be bred for the first time.

At first, the lot of you were excited, some even ovulating and ready to breed. One of your friends had her tail lifted up, and it swayed softly as she sighed.

“Can’t you imagine it, being bred by a handsome bull? Do you think they’d want to settle and become mates?”

You rolled your eyes, swatting her thigh with your tail. “Not likely. Most bulls are just looking for a heifer to breed and toss aside for the next one. You’ll be lucky if they give you more than a few minutes of your time.”

An older cow had warned you many times that bulls liked to play with young heifers’ hearts, and that if you wanted to live a peaceful life on the farm, then you’d just breed and go about your day.

That’s what you told yourself out of fear of getting your heart broken… until the day finally came to breed.

All the other heifers were filling themselves up, brushing out their hair and tidying themselves up. The pheromones wafting through the barn were thick, almost stifling.

This all changed when the bulls walked in. They were big, bulky, and honestly? Terrifying.

They walked in with confidence, eyeing the new heifers with keen, sharp eyes that told you they were more than experienced when it came to breeding.

“Alright, who’s first?”

All the heifers shivered at the authoritative tone of voice. They had never been spoken to in such a way. The farmers they’ve had in the past had always been gentle, giving their bottoms hearty slaps as they herded them into the barn.

These bulls didn’t look like they even knew what the word gentle meant. They knew how to work with an inexperienced heifer, how to breed them into submission and stuff them full of cum.

You looked on with a mix of nervousness and curiosity. The bulls were definitely handsome, and despite their rough way of speaking, the way they tried their best to look a bit smaller told you that maybe they weren’t as bad as you had been told.

Before you could retreat to observe them from the back of the stall, you were shoved out into an open space, landing in the arms of one of the bulls.

“A volunteer. Cute one too.”

You yelped as your ass was groped, the bull squeezing it lightly before inspecting your face. “Little heifer, no need to be nervous. Gonna put a calf in you, alright?”

“Quite small, ain’t she?”

Another bull approached you from behind, lifting up your tail to get a better look at your fat ass. “Perfectly plump too. Got them child bearing hips… mmm…”

The feeling of a cock rubbing against your panties made your body freeze up. They both cooed at you, already able to sense your pheromones spiking. “Someone’s begging to be fucked silly, huh?”

One of the bulls traced circles over your clothed clit, laughing as you blubbered our half hearted pleas for them to let you go. “Hush, heifer. You’re soaking my hand, gotta breed that fat cunt of yours.”

Before long you were being hoisted up, a big fat cock pushing against your pussy. It was huge, and you were sure it would tear your body in two!

“Sure this little thing can take it?” another bull asked, this one playing with your clit as the other two bulls prepped your hole. “Smallest heifer in the herd I’ve seen so far…”

“She’ll take it.”

And with that, he rutted into you, stretching your fat pussy out as he bounced you on his cock. It was painful at first, tears prickling in the corners of your eyes, but your body was built for this. You were made to be bred by bulls, to get pregnant and produce milk and calves.

You felt your pussy gush as he fucked into you, biting into your shoulder. “That’s it, baby. Cream on my cock, lemme hear you cry out for me.”

You were passed around by the bulls, feeling so full and happy. As you were bent over and groped by another bull, you let out the prettiest of moans.

“God, that’s it, that’s a good heifer. Take my load, fuck…”

A bull took one of your nipples into his mouth, suckling as another mounted and bred you thoroughly. Before you were a virgin, and now you were being fucked by so many different cocks that you could barely think.

They rolled you onto your tummy, lifting your ass into the air and eating the cum out of your pussy, wanting to give you a nice and fresh creampie and hoping their’s would be the load to impregnate your fertile womb.

All the other heifer’s watched in awe and jealousy as the bulls kept their attention on you, unable to spare a second glance to the others. You were so cute, a small, chubby little heifer that was perfect for beating calves. How the hell were they supposed to breed anyone else when you were bouncing on their cocks?

By the end of the breeding session, your belly was distended, stuffed full of cum. None of the other heifers were bred because the bulls were way too busy doting on you after they all got a turn.

Now, as your belly began to swell with a calf and your tits got heavy and full, the bulls couldn’t help but cum all over and in you. Your pretty mouth and pussy was always keeping someone’s cock nice and warm.

Drinking milk from your fat and heavy tits was the best part of their day. They had to test your milk to make sure it was high quality… and they also just wanted to suck on your nipples.

After all, you were their perfect little breeding cow. None of the other heifers compared to you, none as sweet and soft and pretty. If anyone had a problem, they could take it up with the bulls.

You sat on your bed, being fed strawberries as your belly was massaged.

Maybe that older cow was wrong, because these bulls adored you with their entire heart… and you were excited to be thoroughly bred again once you gave birth.

You were a cow hybrid after all, and needed to produce lots of milk and calves. Being a breeding cow was your job…

And you were damn good at it.

——————

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

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blkkizzat · 4 months ago

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COME PUT THAT MILLI★N D★LLAR PU$$Y ON ME, MAKE ME RICH!

FARMHAND!TOJI X BIMBOBUNNY!READER

☼ summary: au. a quiet farm life and a young pretty thing—what more could an ex-con want? you're a bit of a brat, but that can be fixed too. ☼ wc: 4.0k ☼ cw: age gap, panty flashing, voyeurism, brat!reader, fantasizing, spit play, biting, hickies, breeding kink, olfactophilia, teasing, perverted toji, morally ambiguous toji, creampies, squirting, unprotected, pet names: Bunny and standard p in v stuff. ☼ a/n: idk y'all farmhand!toji possessed my mind. literally did this all in tumblr drafts again today. Lets see if tumblr actually lets me post this or cucks me again.

FarmHand!Toji who only got the job in the first place because of a prison rehabilitation program. It was either work on a farm or rot in a cell for another 2 years.

Toji chose the farm.

The work wasn't easy, but Toji couldn't complain. It was a very large farm, secluded and he was paid well—but most importantly?

It kept his fuckin' P.O. off his back.

Toji works on the farm for three grueling months until you, the farmer's niece, arrives for the summer to also work.

Well, 'work' wasn't really the right word, because you never did any thing of the sort.

Barely, 19 and kicked out of your house for smoking pot. Your parents sent you to your uncle, hoping the hard work and the ex-cons he had working for him would scare you straight. Additionally, due to the fact your Uncle had no wife and no kids, the sole owner of a large farm, the old bastard was pretty well off. As the only child of your dad, his only sibling, farm would eventually be left to you.

Everyone (not like you had a say) agreed you should know how to run it.

But the thing is—you suck at everything.

You're too flighty to work with the chickens, too prissy clean the pig cages and you'd complain you'd break a nail just from lifting an empty bucket—so milking cows were also out of the question.

Yet you still managed to get your work done.

Precisely cause you weren't the one doing it.

Aware of your youthful looks and charms, you don't hesitate to use them to your advantage.

Your shapely curves are always clad in some in a thin wispy dress, which would turn damn near see-through at the smallest bit of moisture. Wearing no bra and the tiniest of panties, you were always giving a show.

No you weren't scared of these ex-cons in the least bit.

Evident by the way you flounce around the farm, unabashfully, pretending to do the chores the women-starved prisoners were too eager to do for you.

For their efforts you reward them with smiles, blown kisses and sugary words. Sometimes for rewards came in the form of a peach you would sneak them from your uncle's grove.

Always bringing one for yourself you'd sensually bite into the ripen fruit. Allowing its juices to linger on your cherry-glossed lips and dribble down your chin—the slurping noises are the perfect fapping fodder for them.

Yet the best prize of all—and only if you were feeling particularly generous—a flash of panties.

Toji though had not fallen for your charms though.

Not that he wasn't susceptible to them, hell naw—he wanted to bend your pretty ass over the nearest fence and roughly fuck some decency, along with manners into your haughty lil' cunt.

But Toji, as well as any of the prisoners, knew better than to touch you. Not only were they risking their freedom, with even the slightest offense here was enough to send them back to the pen—they were also risking their lives.

Your uncle was no fool. The older man regularly carried a sawed off shotgun slung over his shoulder, which used to be a pistol before you arrived.

The farmer didn't make it a big announcement, simply reminding them it was prison or a grave if they fucked this opportunity up—but the underlying message was crystal clear:

He'd blow anyone to hell who even thought about touching his niece.

Oh, but Toji did think about touching you—alot.

Often staying up late in his shared bunk room—jerking his cock to a frilly pair of panties of yours he'd stolen off the laundry line—once he was sure the others had gone to bed.

Toji wants to teach you a lesson badly.

Not for your benefit though, it be payback for all your goddamn teasing.

Toji isn't a pushover for you.

Nicknaming you 'Bunny' since you were such a clumsy lil ditz. He often made his silly lil bunny do whatever work he was stationed at when you had chores there—yours and his.

And oh, you hated that. You only tried harder when none of your pouts, provocations and seductions move him. It was pure hell, but Toji had resisted every trick you had. An unintended benefit however, was that he'd likely seen every pair of panties you owned by now (which is why he had stolen his favorite).

At one point, when you were particularly annoying one day, Toji even tried straight up ignoring you.

Yet that didn't work either.

You only upped the ante, 'accidentally' spilling a whole bucket of cow's milk on yourself. The very color of your perky nips are clearly visible, poking through the now transparent fabric which clings to you like second skin.

Staring Toji dead in his eyes, a coy smile on your plump lips as your pink manicured nails rubbed circles over your soaked nubs.

It took everything Toji had in him that day not to force you down to the dirt floor, fucking your pussy open just as hard and flithy as you'd been asking for.

Turning away from you, he threw a hay laden blanket over you and told you to go back up to the house n' clean up.

Toji didn't miss how badly you pouted, even though he pretended not to care. You reluctantly listened to him, leaving the barn and back to the main house up the hill.

You were both playing with fire.

Yet from that point something broke in Toji.

He still never crosses the line to touching you, but he'd starts pushing your buttons.

He wants to rile you up just as you had him.

As a result, Toji is working around you without a shirt more often—sometimes even with a raging hard on in full view. Also he doesn't hold back any longer from any of the vulgar thoughts of you that cross his mind. Regularly vocalizing them with a smirk, making overtly perverted comments towards you.

This was even something the other prisoners were too pussy to do to, given the very real threats of your farmer uncle.

Yet Toji wouldn't be a two-time ex-con he is if he didn't mind gambling with his life for a big reward. Toji relishes in your flustered, indignant reactions, loving to see how your face heats up everytime without fail every time he teases his lil' slut, his sultry voice whispering things like:

"I bet y'er cunt is riper than those peaches, Bunny."

"Bunny—think your pretty pussy can squirt more milk than these cow udders?"

"I wonder if my lil' Bunny can actually ride dick, since she's not half bad on a horse?"

You'd call him a 'perverted old man' like you weren't anything more than just a causal cocktease yourself—obviously you get some sick satisfaction knowing you had every man on this farm but Toji at your beck and call.

In reality, you were just as twisted in nature as him.

Still you were stubborn.

And as retaliation for his resistance, you play all manners of pranks on Toji. Doing anything you could so it was harder for him to do his job—from stealing his work gloves, boots and tools—to more serious ones like letting a weasel loose in the chicken coop when it was his shift to collect the eggs.

You deemed it your right to punish him for teasing you, for not becoming one of your simps and most fiendish of all?

Making you actually do work.

You harass him so often, it's not long before Toji realizes you're seeking him out intentionally.

Not even bothering to visit the other workstations where your chores are, they would get done by your lil'fan boys regardless, in favor of following him around all day like a lost lil' chick.

On a particularly hot n' sweltering summer day, Toji is stuck with the job of moving machinery from one side of the farm to the other when the sun is at its highest.

Like usual, he's since removed his sweat-drenched work shirt—remaining only in unhooked overalls and his briefs.

Toji hasn't seen you though, which isn't surprising given how broiling it is outside. Someone with as delicate a disposition as you, who also happened to be as manipulative, probably convinced your uncle to let you laze around inside the house, away from the heat—and Toji.

But you were a needy little thing, always seeking attention. Toji occupies his thoughts for most of the morning imagining you growing so bored, not having him to harass and all day.

With idle hands and absolutely nothing else to do, you'd start playing with that plump lil' pussy of yours, wouldn't you?

A supple girl like you had to overflow like a dam. Toji would bet money you'd already be wet enough, even untouched, to drench his fingers—just from palming your ripe pussy in his hand.

He wouldn't mind taking more than a sip of you on a miserable day like this to quench his thirst.

Continuing his work (and lewd thoughts of you) until his break, Toji discovers he's misplaced his work shirt.

Searching for it in the heat proves annoying—it's not on the grazing pasture fences, nor in the workshed by the machines. Tsk, he swore he had taken it with him to his last station near the horses.

Passing by the cow barn, Toji hasn't had a shift in there today but he absentmindedly remembers there's was a water hose in there. He could at least cool off for the remainder of his break—maybe even rub one out to you.

However, upon sliding open the Toji's smirk grows almost bigger than the hefty cock in his pants.

Looks like he hit the jackpot, today.

There you were in the middle the of the barn, on your back in the hay, thin dress bunched up past your hips and panties dangling off one of your shapely legs—all while feverishly fingering your fat wet lil' cunt.

You salaciously had even dripped a dark sizeable puddle on the dusty floor beneath you.

But the cherry on top?

You're quite shamelessly moaning out cries of his name, uncaring of who could happen to passby and hear you.

'T-Toji!'

'T-Toji, fuck me harder, Daddy!'

All while your pretty angelic face is twisted in pleasure, eyes closed and nose buried deep in the fabric of his soiled work shirt.

Daddy? Oh how fucking filthy of you—God you were perfect slut, just his fuckin' type.

Solely focused on cumming, your hips thrust up desperately to meet your fingers as he stalks closer to you—looking every bit of the predatory ex-convict he is.

"Well, well look at what we got ourselves here doll....n'here I thought the only degenerates on this farm were us prisoners?"

Your eyes widen in shock, but you don't stop your fingers right away. You were so close to your release before Toji suddenly appeared in front of you, there's no way you could physically stop chasing it now.

Not when it only takes a lingering glance at his dark features, muscular tanned sweat slick body, and the painfully obvious way his dick jumps in his pants to have you falling over the edge. You gush, mewling as you cream around your delicate lil' fingers.

"You've been a very naughty lil' bunny..."

Sheepishly pulling them out, covered in your slick, Toji's eyes zero in on the way your hole still gapes open. You're cunt quite literally throbbing for more, you'd cum but she's still left unsated.

You clearly needed something much bigger and harder than your flimsy little digits.

You unconsciously back up deeper into the bushels of hay around, putting distance between you as Toji gets closer.

"Tsk, tsk, nuh-uh Bunny, none of that shit. Not when I just caught you being such a whore for me."

You gulp, your heart racing as he crouches over you. Toji removes his work gloves, discarding them as he forces you to lay back on the soft hay.

“How sweet of you to prep yourself for me babydoll. But, Bunny, you dumb little girl, you’re too careless. What if it wasn’t me who walked in 'ere and saw you playing with my pussy?”

You didn't think of that, when you had so brazenly snuck up without him noticing to nab his work shirt.

Initially, you wanted to just be annoying to him again, too bored of being in the house all morning. At first you recoiled when you touched his soggy shirt, yet that all flipped once you caught of whiff of his scent.

Toji smelled of a farm but somehow that smell mixed with sweat, musk and notes of his aftershave hit you straight in your cunt. Your panties becoming just as drenched as the shirt in your hands.

You didn't realize Toji, grimy from farm work, could still smell so good.

Knowing it was far past the time for anyone to come milk cows, you headed straight to that barn. You just wanted some alone time, where you'd be free to touch yourself while thinking of the ridiculously sexy ex-con farmhand.

To say Toji had been plaguing your thoughts and dreams for the past few weeks would have been a massive understatement. You were obsessed with him. Him and his irritatingly smug expression, accentuated by his scar that made him appear all the more dangerous—you wanted him to fuck you—your uncles warnings be damned.

"You tryna get me to do more time, girl? Ya know Bunny, I'd kill anyone who touched you, if your uncle didn't get to 'em first."

Your face is hot with embarrassment but your cunt is also burning up—thinking you might die if he doesn’t actually touch you soon.

Letting his coveralls drop unceremoniously to the floor, he shrugs off his remaining clothes.

Toji's calloused hands, smudged with oil and grime, grab your hips and yank you to him. You yelp and his cock twitches even harder at your cute lil noises, smearing pre on your already soaked thighs.

Toji presses his sweaty body onto yours. It's cool in the barn but Toji's heat is so intense you feel like you are out in the sun again. Having him on top of you like this finally is overwhelming your senses. Toji is intoxicating and you're so feral with need for him it makes you dizzier than a heatstroke.

Fuck, you looked so ready for him.

He'd love you take his time to really break you in—make you fall apart until he's screwed every word out of your head but his own name.

Tch—but there's about 10 more minutes left of his break—and a good 15 or so more after that before anyone notices he's not where he should be.

Toji would reluctantly have to make this quick. Snatching your dress off overhead, he tosses it across the barn.

Mouth latching to one of your stiffened nipples, Toji simultaneously bullies his cockhead past your entrance, sinking into your slippery cunt.

Both of your collective groans fill the barn.

Goddamn, you're fuckin' tight.

Your eyes go wide and moisture pricks your vision as the sting of his girthy cock splitting you open nearly brakes you. You weren't a virgin by any means, and you knew Toji was huge—but shit—it was way bigger in thickness and length than you could have imagined.

Toji has to physically take your legs and wrap them around his body so they stop convulsing.

You whine for him to wait a moment but he couldn't—he didn't have the time.

Toji cups your face, unintentionally smearing dirt across your warm pristine lil' cheek.

"Daddy doesn't have time to wait for ya Bunny, can't get caught by y'er mean ole uncle, yeah?"

"*sniffs* I-I know, b-but—"

"No buts, baby—you want me to fuck ya, rite? Then just lay back and be good doll—promise I'll make ya feel good, eh?"

You can't stop the tears that roll down your cheeks, the burning still evident in your cunt as your walls spasm around him. Toji nuzzles your neck, grunts fanning across your sweetly scented skin as he begins moving his hips.

Soon the sounds of wet flesh smacking, resound in the barn with every harsh thrust of Toji's broad hips. The sloppy squelching noises your pussy cries out has Toji feeling like she's talking directly to him.

Sweat drips off his brow and onto your face as he pulls back a bit to see just how well your slutty lil' hole is globbling him right up—you already frothing a ring of cream around his base like such a good girl—like you were made to take his dick.

Your teeth bite into his shoulder and your nails rake red streaks across his back when his fat cockhead brushes against your g-spot.

Instantly, the shocks vibrating in your cunt overtake any remaining discomfort from your pussy accommodating his massive cock. Your tiddies bounce violently whe he picks up speed rocking into your cunt—spurred on by your cute bites gnawing into him.

Toji would mark you up similarly.

God you were so fuckin' wet though, milking him so well.

For all the trouble you gave him your lil' pussy was obedient as hell once she got a lil' dick in her.

"T-Tojiiiii, puh-leaseee k-kiss me, Daddy!"

Slurring, you gaze up at him, eyes blown out in pleasure begging for more of him—for anything he'd give you.

"Yeah, baby, Bunny wants Daddy to kiss her, hm?"

You frantically nod, your whole body is tingling. You just want to feel him consume you completely, all parts of you.

"Heh, of course I'll kiss my lil' bunny—only if ya let me cum ya—m-motherfuck—ya know how long its been since I had pussy this good doll? Gotta cum in 'er."

Mewling under him, you're easily left at his mercy—yet Toji would show you none, devouring you just as greedily as you wanted him to. Your body responds so well to his praises, so needy for them and Toji doesn't mind indulging you when you're being this sweet for him.

Throwing your legs onto his shoulders, Toji raises your ass off the hay onto his knees as he folds your body in half—fucking into you deeper, abusing your cervix as he smashed his lips onto yours.

Truthfully, there's no way in hell Toji would pull out now.

Making the decision for you, the kiss Toji gives you is searing hot. Sucking on your tongue, Toji has you melting you completely under him, your pussy clamping harder around him. His deviant tongue and heavy cock fucking you into submission.

Hell, she was begging him to cum in her even if you weren't or couldn't—you looked absolutely gone—like not even the smallest thought lived in your fucked out lil' head.

Even when Toji pulls back to allow you air his lips never leave yours, biting your kiss swollen bottom lip almost to the point of drawing blood.

You tighten even more than Toji thought possible in the moment once he forced your mouth open and spits into it and your instantly swallowing it—sticking your tongue out for more.

Oh? Bunny becomes such a dirty whore once you're fucking her silly, eh?

Toji wonders what else of his you'd swallow. He'd save that for next time though.

For now Toji had to finish you, he was running out of time. Besides, he was speaking true earlier, he really hadn't had good pussy—pussy at all—in literal fuckin' years. Toji didn't think he could last much longer in a hole with as much wet suction as yours, even if he did have more time.

Slipping a hand between your slick bodies, Toji is now furiously thumbing circles on your sensitive clit.

"C'mon, Bunny baby, cum for Daddy, yeah? Squirt on this dick, just like you did your fingers earlier, doll."

Your body, utterly under the spell of his engorged cock which was currently digging into your kidneys, can't do anything but obey him.

Tumbling over your peak, you do as he asks, splashing fluids onto his pelvis, abs and chest with how much squirt he has gushing out of you.

Your head lulls back and Toji has to clasp his hand over your mouth from how loud you started screaming.

His own release follows soon after. Pumping his extra-thick load, all built up and saved over the years for a pussy as sweet as yours, into your well-fucked-open cunt.

Curses and swears pour out of Toji's mouth as remains side you, still pistoning in you with fervor through both your orgasms. Toji doesn't leave the snug warmth of your gooey core until you squeezed out every single drop he had to give you.

Pulling out, Toji immediately rolls over next to you as not to crush you further. Yet, like a magnet, his needy lil' bunny is curling up against his side, a sleepy sated expression on your angelic face.

Toji hated to leave, but he had to haul ass now if he wasn't gonna get caught.

A crude form of aftercare, but Toji hoses the both of you down.

The cold water snapping you from your lethargic afterglow immediately as you pouted and whined—the brat in you almost instantly returning.

But Toji couldn't just let you sleep ass naked, covered in his cum in the hay for your uncle to find you or worse—another prisoner to find you.

Toji was serious. He really would kill someone if they tried anything with you, he'd taken many innocent lives before as a former hitman—he had no qualms killing some no good convicts.

Setting you upright, Toji finds your dress in the hay and puts it on you. It's soiled and dusty but he straightens it enough so you're at least halfway presentable.

Toji knows you're clever enough to think of a lie if questioned further.

Although, you'd better back to the main house quickly, in case those hickies he gave you start showing up. Toji smirks to himself.

Sending you on your way with quick sloppy kiss and a firm smack on the ass, he lets you leave first.

After waiting a few minutes, Toji exits the barn, grinning devilishly upon seeing you.

You're halfway back up the hill to the house by now, but you still steal glances back at him every few paces. Still panting, you're too shy now to meet his own eyes for longer than a second with your coy smiles.

Toji chuckles.

He had you hooked.

Hah, a slut like you? You'd probably be begging for his cock all throughout the day from now on.

However, Toji knows if he keeps fucking you like this he'll soon get you pregnant.

But ya know? That might not be half bad though.

This simple farm life had been a nice change of pace.

And who wouldn't want a young n' tender cunt like yours to dump in daily? Toji would keep you stuffed full, belly round with his kids and soft tiddies full of milk—for his consumption only.

Toji muses once he had finished fucking the brat out of you, Bunny, you'd become the perfect lil' wifey.

It be good for Megumi to have a mom again and some siblings to keep em busy. Toji would finally have a decent place to raise him too, away from the city and his toxic as fuck family who'd Megumi had been with since the first time his dad got locked in the slammer.

Not to mention—the farm was a perfect cover for his con activities that he couldn't wait to back start up.

He'd only able to do so much with the burner phone Shiu smuggled-in for him, concealing in a shipment of animal feed.

Heh.

All Toji needed now was to knock you up, apply pressure on your strict, God-fearing parents to agree to the marriage, and then orchestrate an 'untimely and unfortunate accident' for your uncle. Thereby leaving the farm and the substantial inheritance to you—and by proxy—to him.

Yeah, FarmHand!Toji planned to become Farmer!Toji real soon.

©blkkizzat 2024. do not steal works or gfx, do not translate.

☼ a/n: y'all toji be making me write the most twisted nastiest things for him. i realize soft toji just don't do it for me like depraved toxic morally corrupt toji does, i really would let this man ruin my credit fr y'all, he can have it all.

i didn't expect to write this, all in a day but im at the beck and call of my main mans. otaku!gojo and nerd!gero lovers dun hurt me. taglist in reblogs.

☼ comments and reblogs appreciated ‪‪❤︎‬

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luveline · 1 year ago

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𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 | 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐮𝐬 𝐥𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐧

remus’ touch after a long night prompts a tired confession (and a slew of clumsy kisses).

requested here. modern au. fem!reader, 3.6k.

˚‧꒰ა ✮ ໒꒱‧˚

“I'm going to bed,” Sirius mumbles, scratching at his eyes as he gets up. “Don't let her sleep in her makeup. She'll get an eye infection.”

Your eyes are getting sore, but it's hardly Remus' responsibility to make sure you wash your face tonight, nor Sirius’ to remind you. “I'm a big girl.”

Sirius sends you a smile, ignoring your chiding. “Goodnight, my loves,” he says, waving you both away as he heads out of the living room and up the stairs.

“Notice how he didn't do his dishes?” Remus asks, shifting beside you.

He's sitting as he tends to, slouched in a way that can't be good for his back in the long run but is clearly comfortable short term. His chin is on his chest, his legs kicked out under the coffee table, which is decorated by the casualties of the night. Sirius’ dinner plate, Remus’ mug, James’ rarely used handheld console. He'd been playing a cutesy farming sim before he said goodnight an hour ago. Sirius stayed to mess with James’ crops and eat a late supper. You're surprised it took him as long as it did to admit defeat.

“What time is it?” you ask.

You're laying on the sofa with your socked feet tucked behind Remus’ back, of which he's yet to complain. His elbow brushes your shin as he brings up his arm. “Nearly one in the morning, now,” he reads from his watch. “Let's go to bed too, yeah?”

“I don't want to.” You turn your face into the pillow behind your neck.

“Me neither,” Remus says, dropping his hand on your knee.

You watch another twenty minutes of TV together failing to summon the energy to stand, but the want for a glass of water grows too big. Your head throbs as you get up, offering your hands to the pretzel that is your favourite housemate.

Remus turns off the TV and lights. You lock the front door. He carries the dirty dishes to the kitchen and you fill up two glasses of water to take with you. It's all so… regular. A routine you share nearly every night, only to climb into your two separate beds.

He ushers you out of the kitchen and down the hallway with his hand behind your shoulders, his touch a phantom as you ascend the stairs.

You're silent beside the creak of the old wood, too tired to speak. Remus is similarly quiet, though he does whisper, “Watch,” when you nearly kick the box of Halloween decorations waiting to be taken up into the attic.

You leave your water on the towel box in the alcove and dance around one another in the bathroom. Sirius’ toothbrush lays on the sink still wet, but otherwise there's no signs of him.

You're feeling very, very tired. You hadn't realised how bad it was until you're putting your toothbrush in your mouth, leant up against the window sill, a slot of cold air seeping in from the dark outside. Your eyes shutter closed. The scrubbing sound of Remus brushing his teeth is almost lulling.

He swills out his mouth and washes his brush. “Here,” he says gently. You open your eyes just enough to see him beckoning you forward. “Dove, your necklace.”

“Oh. Thanks.” You turn your back to him.

His fingers are damp and cool on your skin as he unclasps your necklace. He often takes it off for you. It's one of the things you'll miss when you guys aren't living together anymore, the slow meander to his bedroom, the wood of his door jam on your cheek as you lean against it and give him a hopeful smile. Sometimes he's awake, reading a novel on his side in bed or listening to music at his desk, other times he's sleeping. On those occasions you spend too long lingering, stolen seconds spent staring at the rise and fall of his shoulder.

“Thank you,” you say as he puts your necklace in the jewellery dish. It comes out missing vowels, lips stuck together as though honeyed.

You spit pathetically in the sink, rinse your brush, and consider sitting down. “I'm tired,” you whine, wiping your lips.

“I know,” Remus says, giving you a fond nudge. “Just wash your face and get on with it.”

“You first. I'm going to nap standing up for a bit.”

He puts as much of his hair behind his ears as he can and turns on the tap. This is just as familiar as brushing your teeth together. It's not quite as bad as watching James Perfect Skin Potter wash his face with bar soap, but you have to admit that Remus’ eight-nine pence face soap hurts your heart. He washes it off, pats his face dry, and takes the small bottle of bio oil out of the medicine cabinet to pipette onto his pinky finger. “Wash your face,” he says, smoothing the oil into his scars one by one.

You shake your head. “M'gonna do it in the morning.”

“That's why your eye was swollen a few weeks ago. You know yourself you won't.”

“I might,” you say, letting out a big breath as you rub your sore eyes even sorer, “I'm too tired.”

“Can you sit up, at least?”

“No.” Remus takes you by the shoulders and forces you to sit on the edge of the bath. “Aggressive?”

“Don't fall in,” he says, cupping your cheek briefly as if to make sure you've heard.

You are hearing him, seeing him, even feeling the immensity of his touch, but you're tired, and you know you can let yourself relax completely with him. You'd be the same with James or Sirius, though neither of them could have your head feeling so dizzyingly light from a single touch as Remus can. You probably wouldn't let them persuade you into this, either, tilting your head back to watch through blurry vision as Remus soaks a cotton round in your facial oil.

“Close your eyes,” he says.

“Was that a dracula impression?”

“I command you.”

You close your eyes. The queasy feeling of oil drags against your lids as Remus wipes them, loosening the stiff tubes of mascara that coat your lashes. It's not a short process because he's very, very gentle, holding your face delicately as though you're a flower in need of coddling, and him the sun. It's the only metaphor that would ever make sense for you and Remus; he's like the sun even if it goes against every statement he's ever made about himself, or anyone else has, for that matter. People think he's a moody, sarcastic boy, and he is, but he's also a vestibule of sweetness, softness, and warmth. The kind of heat you'd only ever feel kissing your skin under the summer sun. But more than that, he's the relief that follows when the clouds come out.

And his hands are all over you. Your head gets heavier by the minute, eased into dozing by his touch and quiet tones. “We're almost done. I'm gonna have to carry you to bed at this rate.”

“I'm going to miss this so much one day,” you say. It's easier to admit when you're not looking at him.

Remus turns on the tap. Hot water runs, you can tell by the sound as strange as it seems, and he wrings the dirtied cotton round before replacing it with a new one. He wets it, bringing it just that touch too hot to your cheeks to wipe you down. “What are you going to miss, dove?”

“Us. You. I'm going to miss you.”

“Where are you going?”

“Nowhere, but one day I will be. James will finally have had enough of us and I'll,” —you swallow around nothing as a rivulet of water runs down your cheek, a cooling tear from the cotton round— “have to move out and we'll never see each other anymore.”

“Don't be silly, you're not going anywhere.”

“It's not about the going,” you murmur, peeling your eyes open tentatively as his dabbing follows down your cheek to your neck. “I miss you sometimes and we still live together. I can't imagine how much I'll miss you…”

Remus puts the cotton round aside. He takes your face into his hand, and suddenly his touch feels raw, nothing like it had moments ago. Because Remus would wash your makeup off for you any day of the week, but his looking at you like this, so unshielded and unabashed, is a rarity.

“You won't have to miss me. Even if we did move away from each other, I wouldn't let it be that far.”

“Friends move away all the time. We don't speak to half the people we knew at school.”

“I only really knew you and the boys,” he says. It isn't true but it is at the same time. Together, you'd been a happy lot, but your current housemates are the ones you'd known. “And see? We're still together.”

“But for how long?” you ask.

Remus brings his second hand, holding your face entirely. He covers your cheeks, index fingers sliding slowly under your ears. He's exceedingly gentle, and his eyes are soft. He holds you like you're made of glass, like you could break under a hint of pressure. Slowly, he tilts his head to the side as though he might lean in for a kiss. Maybe he doesn't know he's doing it, but Remus is a very purposeful soul. He'd do much worse to wind you up if you wanted him to.

You sober up. It's like he has caffeine in his palms.

“You want to go where I'm going, is that it?” he asks quietly.

“Yeah,” you say, barely say, voice shame-facedly weak. Is he asking what you think he is?

“Do you want to start now?”

You breathe out as one of his hands shifts down your jaw. “Yeah, I… I want to start now.”

“Okay, dove. Then close your eyes again.”

You hold his gaze for a second that feels infinitely long and short at once, your heart racing. Clarity has returned, a thrust into wakefulness even if your fatigue ties knots around your ankles. You look at him in his late night glory, his scars shining a pink-white like the petals of a young peony flower, and you know it's happening now.

You shut your eyes.

He steps closer, though the bath you're perched on is low, and he has to bend a considerable amount to reach you. The weight of his hands on you doesn't change, not even as he grows near enough to sense the heat of his breath against your lips. It's his nose that makes first contact as it slides against yours, and then his forehead presses down into you, his lips noticeably absent. Each contiguity between you thrums.

A pit opens in your chest, cleaved by his voice as he says, “I'm going to kiss you, okay? S'that what you want?”

Your hands don't feel like your own. Under the sickening nervousness twining its way through your ribs, you're excited. You're smiling, your voice shaped by it. “Yeah. It's what I want,” you say.

“Good. It's what I've wanted for a while–” while pressed into your lips, all shaken up by an emotion you've never heard him speak with. He kisses you and you're frozen, and he waits and waits and pulls away to push back in. You remember yourself then, responding to his wading with some pressure of your own. Sparked back to life.

It's so strange. It doesn't feel real. Remus Lupin kisses you heated and hard for just long enough to feel it in your teeth before he pulls away. “Sorry,” he murmurs, his fingertip running down your cheek, following that same path as your earlier rivulet. To think he saw it, really saw it, locked it away to remember and trace into your skin now… maybe he's seen much more of you than you realised all along.

“Will you do it again?” you say under your breath.

Remus must hear the thread of insecurity running through your question; you're afraid he'll say no, but he strokes your cheek again with that unfathomable softness and says, “Yeah, dove, of course I will.”

“Do you want to?”

And that's less insecurity and more selfishness, wanting the confession. He hears that, too.

“I want to kiss you more than I've ever wanted anything,” he says, eye to eye with you, your head tipped up and your heart in your throat, twitching and fizzling like a firecracker. “Yeah? And all that missing me you've been doing? All your worrying? You don't need to do that. You've never needed to do that–”

“I just never thought you liked me like that.” You and Remus aren't new to one another. “You've been the same since the day we met.”

Remus’ hands get a little more solid where he's holding you. “Dove. Dove, are you mad?”

“Remus–”

“Maybe I have been the same, but did you really not notice that I–” He squeezes your cheeks playfully, almost in disbelief. “If you want me, I'm here. I'm not going anywhere without you. You're not going anywhere without me.”

“So you like me?”

“Yes,” he says, his eyebrows pinched together at the starts. “Of course I do.” He laughs. “That's what I'm trying to tell you.”

“Oh,” you say, lifting your head.

Remus shuts his eyes a millisecond before you shut your own and kisses you again. The second round is softer, his smile to yours and struggling to find purchase. His breath huffs out in a minty laugh, shockwaves through your mouth.

“Stop laughing,” he breathes, his hands falling to your neck, your shoulders.

“You first.”

Your lips part under his, a split-second of contact. He yanks away before things can get too heavy, and you're glad he does, but for a moment you feel the loss like a wave of vertigo.

“Sorry, I'm going too fast, and you're tired.” His touch is ticklish behind your shoulder.

“It's okay. Maybe it is a bit fast, but I'm not tired anymore,” you confess.

Remus hugs you, cementing every feeling for him you have as he wraps his arms around you from over your shoulders, a deft hand cupped behind your neck. “That's not true. I can feel your back shaking. Let's go to bed.”

“After that?”

“What, are you worried it won't have happened in the morning?” he asks genuinely.

You go limp in his arms as he takes your weight against his chest. Not worried, but rather not sure you can be away from him so soon. You ask him in a whisper if you can come and sit with him, not to sleep with him, not to do anything else, and he whispers back, Anything you want. You both entertain the lie that you won't fall asleep in his bed.

—

Remus tenses as he hears the scuffling sounds of movement downstairs. It takes a train of thought awakening for him to realise it's only James, rising early as usual to put on a load of washing and prepare bits for lunch before he goes off for training. He can see him in his mind's eye if he tries, his friend dressed in the red and white rugby uniform, green socks up over his calves and white cleats scrubbed pristine for another ruck in the mud.

Remus’ relaxes, stretching out in bed until his hand bumps into something rigid.

He flinches.

You're laying on the mattress beside him, your head slipped off of the pillows and your arm tucked beneath you. It doesn't look comfortable, and if it were any other morning he'd pull it straight for you, but.

I kissed you, he thinks to himself, as though talking to you. He turns away from you until his back clicks and alleviates the ache in his hips, though he has to settle eventually, back on his back, no way of ignoring you. He doesn't want to ignore you. The opposite —why are you so far away? Can he hold you?

What are the rules here?

Kissing… not dating… You're here in his bed, you'd asked to stay.

He takes your hand and pulls at your arm. Still sleeping, you mumble and move onto your back, releasing the pressure on your shoulder as he pulls you toward his chest. Your face is impassive, lax in sleep.

He should let you sleep.

“Dove,” he says, stroking up the length of your arm.

“Mm?” you hum.

“I need to ask you something.”

You twitch awake with a small cough. Your eyes are red with a lack of sleep as you open them, blinking, and he wishes stupidly that he could make it better. He makes a sympathetic sound for want of more to do.

“Why have you woken me up?” you ask, blinking at him. You gather that there's nothing urgent happening and push your face into his shoulder, practically nuzzling him. “It's Saturday.”

“I just need to ask you something.”

“So ask me,” you encourage through your sleepiness.

The washing machine whirs downstairs. It’s an old machine that you often joke is taking off into orbit during the final spin, loud as anything. He can barely hear your sluggish breathing underneath it, but he can't miss the catch in it after he asks, “Can I be your boyfriend?”

It's not the catch he's expecting. You laugh and readjust, wrapping your arms around him from the side and kissing the side of his neck clumsily. “Y'u asked me last night,” you say in a borderless run-on, sounding about as dopily in love as he's ever heard you.

He thinks about it. Yes, he did, after he'd kissed you many more times than he should've and curled up in bed with you, hands held loosely beneath the blankets. He remembers the question, the answer. The last kiss that followed, and you falling asleep beside him.

“I need a coffee,” he says, encouraging your head back so he can kiss your temple.

“No, you need to sleep more with me. And maybe kiss me again. If you want to.”

Sleeping isn't half as interesting as kissing you. He slots his nose against yours and languishes in the feeling of your lips, wondering if he's having a false start. He could still be dreaming. It would make sense.

The door clatters open with a curse. James stands in the doorway with a folded pile of Remus' washing from the radiators in his arms, an apology on his lips, “Sorry, mate, the door got away from– oh my god. Oh my god?”

Remus isn't an overly shy guy but he can't deal with this. “For fuck's sake,” he mutters, dropping his face into your shoulder. Your arm wraps under his neck, fingers splayed across his cheek.

“James–” you begin, resigned to your fate.

“This is flat-cest. This is the cardinal sin.”

“We don't live in a flat,” Remus says.

“That makes it worse. You can't even blame close quarters.” Remus peeks up to watch James in the doorway, still clinging to Remus’ washing, pure shock curdling his features. He shakes his head. “I'm telling Sirius.”

“Please don't!” you say.

You slump back into the pillows as James leaves anyways.

Remus hugs your soft abdomen. “Don't worry,” he says.

“I guess it's a good thing you've already asked me out,” you say.

“Why, what can they do?” Remus asks, wondering if he's allowed to put his face on your chest or if that's too forward. You rake a hand through his hair and encourage him forward, to his delight.

Frantic words. You and Remus loved up in bed despite it.

“I'm chucking them out!”

“James, they've been seeing for weeks. Can I go back to sleep?”

“What?!”

You grumble into his hair. “That's not even true… Does everyone know, then? That I liked you?”

Remus thinks of the shadow of you in the doorway, that sheepish smile you send his way before you ask him to unclasp your necklace before bed, or your face as he’d wiped the sooty stain of mascara from your cheek last night, half in love with him as you fell asleep in his palm.

“I don't think so, lovely,” he comforts. “Don't worry about it. We'll clear it up at lunch time. James isn't even mad, he's just sulking thinking we didn't tell him.”

“How could you not tell me?” James asks on cue, rounding the door again, arms ever tighter around the bundle of Remus’ clothes. He assumes it's being kept hostage. “I thought we were best mates.”

“James,” you say softly, all sympathy.

Remus likes the feeling of your voice under his ear, and your slightly too-quick heartbeat. He could fall asleep here and now if it weren't for the company.

“It's new,” you're saying, softness melded to a sweet pride. “Okay? I've barely told Remus how I feel, of course I was going to tell you. We were only talking about it last night. It really hasn't been weeks, Sirius is a stirrer.”

Remus pulls the covers up over your heads and climbs on top of you in a rush, demanding that the both of you be left alone, to James’ great annoyance but your delight, your laughter loud in the shell of his ear. Your chest shakes with it beneath him.

A great wad of fabric hits him in the legs. “Twats,” James says, seemingly stalking off.

Your whisper sends shivers down his spine. “We're alone again. Do you have anything else to ask me while you're too tired to remember?” you tease.

There's not a chance in the world that Remus would ever forget this.

˚‧꒰ა ✮ ໒꒱‧˚

thanks for reading!! I really hope you enjoyed, it's been a little bit since I wrote for remus like this so I was actually a bit nervous and I hope it's okay :D <3

#remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x fem!reader #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x y/n #marauders era #remus x reader #remus x you #marauders #remus lupin drabble #remus lupin blurb #marauders x reader #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin fanfic #remus lupin fanfiction #the marauders

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roanofarcc · 3 months ago

Text

GETTING EVEN

pairing. tyler owens x harding!reader

summary. after tyler owens saved your ass, you return the favor. (part 2 to this fic)

warnings. descriptions of injuries and tornados. reader is the daughter of jo & bill harding (from the og movie!). hurt/comfort (tending to each other wounds? hot). tyler’s the number one loverboy and I stand by that.

a/n. fun fact, my sister's mother-in-law also survived a tornado by hugging a light pole!

word count. 3.7k || masterlist

You stabbed a piece of pancake on your plate, determined to ignore your mom as she spoke from the stove. “Would it be the worst thing in the world?”

“Yes,” you and your dad answered at the same time, meeting each other's eyes with a small smile.

Your mom, Jo, sighed deeply and spun around to face the two of you, one hand on her hip. “He’s nice! He’s handsome and-”

You groaned, feeling a teenager again, mortified that your parents are bringing up any aspect of your love life. Ever since Tyler Owens had helped you to the hospital after a tornado took you and your friend by surprise during a chase, your mom wouldn’t let you go five minutes without bringing him up.

You were back in town, staying at their farm as another slew of storms were forecast for the surrounding area. Your team was due in later that night, all crashing with your parents, which was their idea. They wouldn’t admit it outright, but that was one thing they missed the most about their storm-chasing days, the friendships formed within their team. Your mom brought out her aunt’s recipes and cooked a big dinner, and your dad was harassed into telling stories of their storm-chasing adventures- which he secretly loved.

Since the storms were predicted to be pretty wicked, you knew Tyler and the rest of the Wranglers would be around. And while you would rather die than tell your mom, you were excited to see him again. The competition between the two of you for an arbitrary ‘best storm chaser’ title was left behind after you woke up in the hospital to see him still there with you. Instead, your relationship inched more toward friends; though, your mom seemed convinced it was something more.

“Look, if our daughter isn’t interested in running away with some tornado-wrangling cowboy, I don’t think we should encourage her to,” your dad, Bill, said.

“I don’t have time for a relationship, anyway,” you added. You were too engrossed in your research to think about a relationship, serious or not. You were content with your team. And your mom’s little fantasy would require Tyler to be interested in you, which you found unlikely.

Yet, your mom persisted. “We did it,” she said, pointing between herself and Bill. “We balanced both work and a relationship. It’s not impossible.”

You snorted. “Yeah, and you two almost got divorced.”

Your dad laughed into his coffee mug, hiding it as your mom huffed.

The thrill of storm chasing, running down backroads as a twister roared beautifully across the ground, wasn’t the only reason you did it. That was only one part of the job. Then there was the research. But the hardest part was trying to help people. Tornados were wondrous but dangerous. They ruined lives, tearing through towns. And while warning systems and radars had advanced significantly since your parents' days, nothing was perfect. That’s why you were the first people to rush into a crowded town directly in the path of a storm and do what you could to ensure people’s safety.

When a member of your team noticed one of the storm cells you were watching was heading towards a little downtown area not too far from your parents’ farm, you all decided that was where you needed to be, instead of chasing after the storm further west.

You were close, beating the storm to town, and when you arrived you realized the Wranglers had the same idea. The second you stepped out of your truck, the harsh winds knocked into you. The sirens just started, warning the people of the quickly approaching storm. People were running down the sidewalks, hurrying into buildings to shelter.

You jumped into action, hurrying some slightly dazed people to safety, along with your team. The storm inched closer, and you knew you only had a few more moments before you needed to take cover yourself to ensure you didn’t get whisked away. You’d lived through enough tornados to know what to do with little fear, but ever since your close call with your team member Frankie, earning you a couple stitches on the back of your head and a newfound appreciation for Tyler, your nerves were a little heighten; you become a little more cautious.

You turned on your heel to hurry towards one of the buildings, but you caught sight of the tornado wrangler on the other side of a parking lot, searching for something.

Pressing your lips in a hard line, ignoring the drum inside your chest that started to beat a little faster with the closeness of the storm, you took off after him.

“Tyler!” you yelled above the howling wind that threatened to knock you off your feet. Rain beat down against your skin, soaking you to the bone. You called his name once more as you neared, finally earning his attention.

“Harding? What the hell are you doing?”

“What am I doing? What are you doing? Taking a mid-day stroll?”

He shook his head, forced his wet hair out of his eyes. “Some kid’s dog got spooked, ran this way, but I can’t find her.”

You glanced up at the sky, the dark clouds giving the allusion of nighttime. There was a little tremble in your hand, but you steeled your nerves. “Dogs are smart. She’ll find her way, but we’re goners if we don’t get a move on.” He frowned, clearly torn between helping a lost dog and saving himself. “My team and I will help you look after; I promise.”

With a sigh lost to the wind, he nodded and pointed toward the building others had filed into. “There’s a basement in the library.”

Together, you two took off in the direction of the library, but the storm rolled in much quicker than you anticipated. It came in with a vengeance, peeling objects off the ground, big and small, with ease and tossing them all around. You ducked, nearly missing a chair that once belonged to one of the downtown restaurants' patios. Your heart started to race uncomfortably, inching toward fearfully.

Tyler grasped your hand, tugging you to the side as more debris whizzed past you. The rain made your grasp slippery, but you squeezed his hand tightly. There was too much distance to cover, and the tornado was determined to put every possible obstacle in your path.

It became harder to run but you felt so sure you and Tyler would make it; that was, until the tornado came around the block, tearing into a building and sending the debris in your direction. You didn’t even know what hit you until you felt Tyler’s hand slip from yours and your chin collided with the pavement. A cry of pain fell from your lips, but you rolled over quickly, in search of Tyler. He wasn’t far, just out of arms reach, on the ground.

You half crawled over to him, tugging on his shoulder until you noticed the look of pain twisted on his face. Your gaze trailed down to his leg and found his foot stuck under a heavy beam plucked from the building the tornado tore through.

“Shit,” you whispered, grasping the beam with your slippery hands and desperately trying to lift it off. It wouldn’t budge, crushing Tyler’s ankle.

“You gotta go!” he yelled, trying to wave you off with his hand frantically.

You stared at him in disbelief. Adrenaline pumped through your veins and the rain clouded your vision. There wasn’t a chance you were going to leave him. Your chest felt impossibly tight, pulling more and more with an indescribable fear you’d never experienced before. Using some kind of strength you didn’t know you had until that moment, you managed to lift the beam just enough for Tyler to pull his bloodied ankle out from under it.

“Come on,” you cried, trying to help him to his feet. He grunted in pain, pale and breath labored.

“We’re not gonna make it,” he wheezed out, talking about the library the tornado was already upon. You made a sharp turn, bee-lining toward the building you landed directly in front of.

There wasn’t even time to get inside. Instead, you half helped half dragged Tyler to where there was a large light post cemented to the ground. It wasn’t much, but there were no other options. Tyler sat on the ground, pulling you down quickly beside him before he wrapped his arms around the pole. You hooked one arm too but kept your other pressed against Tyler’s head. You could take another hit, but you weren’t sure he could.

You closed your eyes, sending a silent prayer that everyone would be okay. The storm roared, stinging your ears and tugging on you harshly. But, somehow, the both of you remained hugging the light post until the tornado dissipated after an excruciating amount of time. That was the thing about tornados, when you were chasing them, they never seemed to last long enough, but when you were in them, they never seemed to end.

Shaking from a mix of adrenaline, fear, and cold you unwound your arm from the pole before you brushed your hands along Tyler’s shoulders, drawing his attention, and making sure he was still there.

You two sat nearly nose to nose, droplets of rain decorating his face, falling his lashes as he tried to blink them away. “Are you okay?” you muttered, voice shaky.

He let out a breath and tried to shift in his position, but his face twisted up in pain once more before he cursed under his breath. You glanced at his ankle, his jeans were stained with a smear of crimson, but the rest was hidden under the fabric.

“I think it’s just a sprain,” he said, trying to shrug it off but you saw through him. You struggled to your feet and moved to help him, but he tried to stand on own. He leaned heavily on the light pole, trying to hide a wince.

You heard his and your name being called in the distance. You hooked an arm around his torso, gazing at him for a moment. “Come on,” you said, gently guiding him back towards the road. As soon as you stepped out onto the sidewalk, you spotted your team and a couple members of Tylers.

“Holy shit!” Frankie gasped, running towards you. “What happened to you two? We thought you were right behind us?”

Tyler tried not to lean on you, but you felt his grip tighten on your shoulders with each step. “I think we need to take him to the hospital,” you said, worry seeping into your voice.

Kate and Javi snapped their gaze at Tyler, who shook his head. “No, really, I’m fine. I think it’s just a little sprain,” he repeated.

Kate looked at you, half ignoring Tyler. “What happened?”

“His ankle was crushed under some debris.”

“I’m right here,” Tyler said. “And I said I’m fine. I don’t need to go to the hospital. But we’ve gotta find that dog-”

“You mean this lil’ guy?” Boone asked. He and Lily stood with who you assumed was the kid who lost the dog, but who was now cuddling it in his arms with a wide smile on his lips despite the destruction all around them. “He came runnin’ out just a minute ago. Smart dog.”

You smiled softly, looking at Tyler who sighed in relief. “I told you.”

“I think the nearest hospital is…” Javi trailed off, looking at his phone with furrowed brows. “Twenty minutes south, just off the interstate.”

“I’m not goin’ to a hospital. I’m telling you guys, I’m fine-”

You huffed loudly. “Are you always this stubborn?”

At the same time, Kate, Javi, Boone, and Lily all replied, “Yes.”

You realized you probably weren’t going to convince Tyler to get his ankle checked out at the hospital. “Fine,” you sighed. “But you’re not gonna patch yourself up in some grimy motel, got it? My parents don’t live too far from here. You all can crash there.”

“Are you sure?” Kate asked.

“Positive. My parents were thrilled to have my team staying. They won’t mind a couple more people.”

“Wait,” Javi said. “Your parents. Like, your parents as in Jo and Bill Harding?”

You chuckled. “Yes.”

He and Kate exchanged a look that bordered on giddy.

Tyler shifted at your side, pulling out his truck keys and you thought he was out of his mind if he thought he was going to try to drive with his clearly busted ankle. You reached over and snatched the keys quickly. “You’re riding with me, cowboy,” you said before tossing the keys at Kate. She caught with between her two hands, eyes slightly wide before a smile broke out across her lips.

“I’m driving!” Kate said before she quickly turned on her heel before anyone could protest, Javi following close behind her.

“You be careful with my truck Sapulpa!” Tyler shouted.

You all arrived at your parents' place and helped a limping Tyler out of your truck. He tried once more to hide just how much pain he was in, but it didn’t work. As you walked up the driveway, he smirked, a little lopsidedly. “Already taking me home to meet the parents, huh?” You wanted to smack him but decided his sprained ankle was enough punishment already.

Instead, you rolled your eyes. “Don’t you be talking like that in front of my mom. She’ll start planning the wedding.” You were only half joking. You knew the second she opened the front door and saw you standing side by side with Tyler’s arm slung around you, even though it was strictly to keep himself upright and pressure off his ankle, her imagination would run wild.

He was quiet for a moment before he cleared his throat and said, “At least let me buy you dinner first.”

You didn’t get a chance to respond before the front door was swung open and out stepped your mom. Her eyes flickered between the two storm-chasing teams all trailing behind you before they landed on you and Tyler. You saw the little twinkle in her eye, but it vanished when she noticed the state everyone was in, soaked clothes, a little in pain, and in a slight daze.

She hurried down the step, grasping your face and gazing at the nasty cut on your chin from where you collided with the road. “Everyone okay?” she asked, eyes drifting over to Tyler.

“Not exactly,” you replied. “Tyler’s got a busted ankle. I think everyone else is pretty okay. But cold and hungry.”

Your mom clapped her hands together. “Well then, let’s get you all fed and cleaned up then. Come on,” she said, ushering everyone inside and exchanging greetings.

You helped Tyler into the bathroom before you dug around for the first aid kit underneath the sink.

“You know-” Tyler started but you glared at him.

“If you tell me you’re fine one more time Owens…” He held up his hands in defense, pressing his lips together. Once you found the kit, you sat on the floor and carefully rolled up the leg of his jeans. Whatever damage his ankle took was hidden under his boot. “This is probably gonna hurt,” you said.

You tried to be as careful as you could, tugging off his boot, and he tried to act like it didn’t hurt like a bitch, but the way his eyes screwed shut and hands clenched into fists in his lap told you otherwise. As soon as it was off, he let out a shaky breath and you assessed the damage. His ankle was swollen, bloodied, and overall in pretty bad shape but considering he could put a little bit of pressure on it told you it wasn’t broken. He was right about the sprain, but it was a fairly bad one.

Working quickly but carefully, you cleaned up the dirt and blood before wrapping his ankle. “Feel any better?” you asked. He nodded as you stood to your feet. “Good. Are you hungry? I’m sure my mom’s made enough food to feed an army-”

“Wait,” he said, grasping your hand, turning you back around to face him before you could reach the door. “You fixed me up, now it’s your turn.”

You furrowed your brows. “What?” His eyes dropped down to your chin, where you’d smacked it against the road when you fell. “Oh. No, it’s just a little scratch-” he cut you off.

“Are you always this stubborn?” he teased, using your own words against you. With a sigh, you slumped your shoulders in defeat.

“All right, but at least sit down. Your ankle’s not gonna heal otherwise.” He listened, retaking his place on the toilet lid as you sat on the edge of the tub right beside it. He grabbed an alcohol swap from the kit and grasped your face with one hand. His fingers were cold from the rain but gentle as they tilted your head upwards just slightly so he could clean the cut on your chin.

You couldn’t help but study him. The brightness of his eyes and how they narrowed when he concentrated, and how he pulled his bottom lip just barely between his teeth. Something twisted in your stomach, and you were suddenly very aware of just how close he was. You had been nearly nose to nose with him earlier, in the aftermath of the storm, but the calmness of your current setting made the closeness feel different. The way his hand softly held onto your face made your breath hitch, and it was impossible for him not to notice. His eyes flickered up from your chin, awkwardly covered with a band aid, and met yours.

“Thanks for saving my ass out there,” he said, voice just above a whisper, like he too didn’t want to break the calmness that was steady in the room.

You tried to ignore the patter of your heart that quickened as with his little smile. “I owed you for saving mine.”

“Guess we’re even know, huh?”

You nodded, words lost on your tongue. Maybe it was just wishful thinking, but you dropped your gaze onto his lips for just a moment before you met his eyes, searching for something. But your wishful thinking died with a startling knock on the door that caused you both to flinch back and away from each other.

“Everything all right in there?” your dad’s voice sounded from the other side of the door.

You cleared your throat, quickly standing to your feet. “Y-Yeah. We’ll be out in a second!” A shaky laugh left your lips as your turned to Tyler, who stared back at you with cheeks slightly pink. “We should…”

“Yeah, y-yeah.”

After everyone showered and cleaned themselves up, your mom and dad handed out plates and everyone dug in. With full stomachs and dry clothes, the collection of storm chasers all crashed around the house. You lay in your childhood bed, squished alongside Frankie while two other members of your team were asleep on an air mattress on the floor. You tried to sleep, but all you could think about was Tyler, who was just downstairs in the living room. The rest of the evening consisted of you two tip toeing around each other, bordering on avoiding each other in the company of everyone else.

With a quiet groan, you slipped out of bed and headed toward the kitchen, careful to be quiet. Your mom’s words followed you, gushing about Tyler. Would it be the worst thing in the world? You had said yes, but you didn’t really mean it, how could you? This was Tyler. Sure, he was a little reckless and you’d seen him get a little rowdy at a country bar, but he was also the kind of person that looked for lost dogs in the middle of a tornado and who stayed by your bedside at the hospital until you woke up. He was obnoxiously great. You didn’t know how to deal with it.

In the bathroom, just hours ago, you wanted to kiss him. And a part of you thought he wanted to kiss you too, but the moment was broken too fast for you to know for certain.

You poured yourself a glass of water before leaning against the counter, eyes focused out the window at the sliver of moon that poked out from behind the clouds. Somewhere behind you, the floorboards creaked, causing you to spin around with a start.

Tyler paused, wincing at the noise he made before he whispered, “Sorry.”

You didn’t do it on purpose, but it was like at the sight of him your lips automatically tugged upwards in a smile. You felt a little ridiculous about it but tried to play it off by clearing your throat.

“I told you that couch was uncomfortable,” you said, voice low to not wake the snoring Wranglers in the next room.

“It’s not,” he replied.

“You should be elevating your ankle.”

“I know, I know. Doctor’s orders, right?” He smiled too. “I was just grabbing some water.”

You said nothing as you reached back into the cabinet and pulled out another glass before filling it at the sink. You handed it to him, your fingers brushing for just a second before he took the glass with a quiet ‘thanks’ and you pulled away.

“I should…” You pointed behind you, ready to retreat back to your bedroom and let your Tyler-occupied mind slip away. But he caught your elbow and set down his glass of water. He didn’t say anything as his hand slid up your arm to your shoulder, then to your cheek in a similar way he held you earlier. You were back to being nearly nose-to-nose for the third time that day. Only this time, it was Tyler whose gaze flickered to your lips before he closed the short distance.

Softly and quietly, you pressed your lips against his, pressing your hands against his chest. His hands were warm on the sides of your face as his lips moved against yours. You parted after a moment, breathing a little heavier, and your chest beat with something new.

You leaned in once more, kissing him a little harder but pulling back quicker. “Good night, Tyler,” you breathed out.

He beamed, cheeks rosy. “Good night, Harding.”

#twisters #twisters 2024 #tyler owens #tyler owens x reader #tyler owens x you #twisters fanfic #glen powell #twister 1996 #jo harding #bill harding #kate carter #javi twisters

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two-calicos-in-a-trenchcoat · 2 years ago

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Surprisingly see more animals with the sidewalk in my backyard than before they cleared out the trees

Like i know those animals were there before and were just hidden by the trees but I thought the sidewalk would scare them off

Apparently not

#saw a bobcat in person for the first time ever #thought it was my neighbors cat at first and realized it looked WAY too big for how far away it was #and then it turned and i saw its tail #another reason my neighbors should not be letting their cats out #weve had a mountain lion pass through once before too #and my dad saw a wolf one year but thats VERY VERY rare like once in a lifetime sort of thing cuz wolves do NOT live here #but we also have coyotes and foxes #also this is slightly unrelated but my moms pretty sure she saw a cow on the other side of the highway a couple weeks ago #theres no farms nearby #theres one /kinda/ close on that side of the highway but it wouldve had to cross a few busy roads to get to the highway #she thought it could maybe be a deer cuz she didnt get a very good look at it before it went up the hill into the neighborhood on that side #and it was pretty early in the morning #but it was huge and all black #so it was either a cow or a horse maybe #the city still denies we have mountain lions #one of the dentists in town had a decorative rock formation in his backyard and his wife posted a picture to face book of a #mountain lion laying on it with 3 cubs running around playing and was like ''guess we dont have mountain lions.''#there were pictures of one walking around the ku campus #but nah we dont have mountain lions

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tj-is-down · 2 months ago

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Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy (Tyler Owens x Reader)

Back again with another random fic for y'all. This is not proofread, so don't hate me!

Summary: Tyler and the reader have been on and off "together" for years now, keeping it secret. Until, suddenly, one of them decides they might want more.

Word count: ~2.1k

Warnings: None except some swearing, and reader is described femininely in this one.

Here’s the thing about Humble Creek: everybody knows everybody. A small town made up of just under five thousand, there was nothing that anybody could do in secret, because if one person knew, then it was just as if they’d taken a bullhorn and announced it to the entire town.

Which made Y/N’s life all the harder. See, she did have a secret, and although it hadn’t gotten out yet, its secrecy was held in the hands of a monster. A tyrant, a tool, a pain-in-the-ass douchebag with a cowboy hat and a Texas accent.

Tyler Owens.

Y/N had known he was trouble since they were kids. Growing up on rival ranches, they were destined to be enemies, and even more so, to blur the lines. Y/N had never trusted him. Not because their families were constantly fighting, as she believed everybody deserved their own chance to prove themself, but because he had fucked his up, royally.

In elementary school, middle school, high school, Tyler was always the talk of the town. Always with a girl on his arm, Tyler was confident, and everybody else was just putty in his hands. Y/N told herself she didn’t understand what people saw in him.

She lied.

It started in eighth grade, when Tyler showed up in a too-big tux and a bouquet of flowers he’d handpicked from his family’s garden.

“You wanna go to the dance?” He asked, grinning cockily. Even then he knew how to charm, before he even knew what charm was.

Y/N’s dad had said no, absolutely no way, but Y/N was in her rebellious phase and so this only pushed her to say yes. She went out right then, in her mud-stained t-shirt and jeans, and they’d walked to the school together at seven p.m. and walked home together at nine. He’d kissed her cheek goodnight and she’d wiped it off, embarrassed.

“You’re annoying, Owens.”

“And you’re pretty, L/N.”

On the next Monday he came to school with Cherry Lee.

Y/N tried to be mad. She tried to hate Tyler, to swear that she’d never talk to him or think about him or even look at him ever again. But two months later, when Tyler and Cherry broke up, he’d knocked on her door when he knew her parents weren’t home and, against her better judgment, she’d let him inside.

They’d been on-and-off “together” ever since.

Now, Tyler wasn’t single for long intervals, usually just a couple of weeks here and there, and he would never cheat, nor would Y/N let herself become a homewrecker (no matter how fragile the relationship), but when Tyler showed up on her doorstep, bouquet in hands and that look in his eyes, she knew she couldn’t say no.

She was an adult now, but still, she couldn’t resist those eyes. Tyler had been single since before leaving for college, and when he came back it was like he’d never left. Sure, now he had a truck, a big name, a crew, and a YouTube channel, but he still had those eyes, and his family still had a garden with a never-ending supply of flowers.

He showed up on her door one morning, after her parents had left for church.

“Can I help you?” She asked, opening the door. As always, a t-shirt and jeans, dirty from the morning’s work on the farm.

“You’re not at church?”

“You knew I wouldn’t be.”

“Well, maybe the two and I can practice praying on our own? I think the first step is kneeling down; you wanna start?”

Y/N went to close the door, but Tyler’s hand reached out to prop it open.

“Come on, Darlin’,” he said, laying the accent on thick. “You want to go for a drive? I’ll buy you a coffee.”

“Hold the coffee,” she said, walking past him. “I’d rather not have anyone see us together.”

He grabbed her waist and stood behind her, kissing her neck. “We’ve been doing this for years, babe. No one’s gonna find out, I promise.”

She leaned her head towards him, breathing in the scent of firewood mixed with his cologne. He pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“You gettin’ sappy on me?” He asked. Though his voice was soft, she could feel his smirk.

“Nope.” She pulled out of his grasp and got into the passenger seat of his truck. “We going, or are you just gonna stand there looking all doe-eyed?”

“For you, I’d stand here all day, sweetheart.”

“Just get in the car, Romeo.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

***

They drove for a while, to the outskirts of town, when Tyler stopped the truck and leaned over. He kissed her lips, hard and slow, putting his hand on the back of her neck to pull her closer. She reciprocated, holding his bicep, moving her mouth in tandem with his and letting herself fall into him.

“Why are you being so love-y today?” She asked after they separated.

“I can’t show my girl some love?”

“Is that what I am? ‘Your girl’?”

He shrugged. “Is that so bad?”

“You’re annoying, Owens.” She pushed his shoulder.

He mock-pushed her back as he said, “You’re pretty, L/N.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Seriously, though, there is something I wanted to talk to you about—”

Y/N scoffed. “Are you about to ask me out?”

“Well, no, but—”

“Okay, good.”

“Would that be so bad of me?”

“Kinda.” Y/N breathed a laugh, but when she saw Tyler’s face, serious and a little upset, she stopped. “I mean, it’s not like we have the best thing going on here anyways, and I just don’t want to be—” She paused, about to say heartbroken, or used, or a placeholder for when you find someone better, but Tyler cut her off.

“Yeah, you’re right.” He started the truck, engine roaring to life. “It was dumb, nevermind. I’ll take you home.”

“Tyler, you know what I meant—”

“Yeah, yeah. We’re just messing around, right? That’s all this is, just messing around.”

He didn’t say another word on the ride home.

He dropped her off, barely waiting for her to shut the truck door before he drove away.

***

Tyler didn’t answer any of Y/N’s calls or texts for the next few days. Y/N was upset, barely leaving her room checking her phone obsessively for any sign of Tyler Owens. She even started watching his YouTube channel, but there hadn’t been any uploads for over a month. Nothing on Instagram or Facebook, either.

Her mother yelled up the stairs to her one night, calling her down.

“That’s what you’re wearing?” Her mom said upon seeing Y/N.

“This is what I always wear. Why?” Y/N was suddenly self conscious, confused as to why her parents cared what she wore in the house.

“Tonight’s the fair,” her mother responded, attempting to jog her memory.

“You’re helping us run our booth?” Her father tried.

“Ah, shit,” Y/N mumbled, remembering. “Do I have to go? I totally forgot.”

“Of course you have to go!” Her father said. “We need the three of us there; it’s a family ranch, remember?”

“Besides,” her mother added. “The Owens’s will be there. We can’t let them get a leg up on us! If you’re not there, Tyler will be running the show for sure.”

“Well, maybe not,” her father said. “He’s doing the kissing booth, remember?”

“The what?” Y/N said. “Tyler’s doing a kissing booth?”

Her father nodded. “To raise funds for his family’s ranch. He and his whole ‘team’ will be there, whatever they’re called.”

Y/N paused for a moment, trying to wrap her head around it all. Was that what Tyler was trying to talk to her about the other day? The kissing booth? But why would it matter what Y/N thought about it?

Her mother ushered her up the stairs. “For Pete’s sake, change into something nice, and quickly!”

Oh, shit.

***

The Humble Creek Fair was bustling with energy. People from nearby towns came to see what it was all about, and it was always the most popular time of year.

Y/N sat at her family’s booth, eyes peeled for Tyler. She kept checking her phone to see if he’d answered, but when she didn’t get any notifications she decided to take matters into her own hands.

“I’m going for a walk,” she said to her parents.

They both nodded, and her father added, “Make sure to see how the Owens’ booth is doing. I want to make sure we’ll still be in business next year.”

Y/N looked around for the kissing booth, and when she saw a long line of women, she followed it to the front. She walked around to the back of the attraction, but didn’t see Tyler anywhere. It wasn’t until she’d nearly given up entirely when she heard a voice behind her.

“What are you wearing?”

She whisked around, coming face-to-face with Tyler, who was holding some sort of weird meat on a stick.

“What are you eating?”

“Pork leg, fried and marinated in pickle juice,” he said, shrugging. “I’m hoping it’ll make my breath smell bad so less people come up. Now, back to you.”

“What about me?”

“You’re wearing a dress. You never wear dresses. ‘Jeans and a t-shirt, that’s me,’” he says, doing a poor impression of her.

“I don’t sound like that.”

“Yes you do, but that’s besides the point. What’s your deal?”

Y/N shrugged uncomfortably. “I wanted to, I guess.”

Tyler looked at her dead-on. “You look nice, Y/N.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’ve been texting you for days. No response. But now that I’m here, all I get is, ‘I look nice’?”

“What else do you want from me?”

“An answer, Tyler. What’s your deal? Why didn’t you tell me about the kissing booth?”

“I tried to, but then you came at me with all that ‘this is a bad idea’ crap, and I figured you didn’t want me to tell you. Or you didn’t care if I told you or not.”

“Okay, so—”

“Wait.” He stops her. “Do you care?”

Y/N kicks the ground. “If I did?”

“If you did,” he said, stepping closer to her. “I’d drop the pork leg and kiss you.”

“And if I don’t?”

“I’d eat the pork leg, and I’d kiss a bunch of people who aren’t you, and I’d feel like shit about it.” He took another step closer to her, nearly closing the gap between them. “Please say you care.”

“Ugh,” she scoffed. “You’re gonna make me say it? You can’t just, like, infer from the situation?”

“I’m really bad at inferring things,” he said, a cocky grin on his face. “So, I’m gonna need to hear you say it.”

“You’re annoying, Owens.”

“You’re pretty, L/N. Like, so pretty. But I do need to hear you say it, and I’m also gonna need you to—”

“I care, Tyler. Now shut up and kiss me, or I’m gonna take it back.”

“Can’t take it back, babe. It’s set in stone.”

In one fluid motion, he dropped the pork leg, grabbed Y/N by the waist with his other hand, and pulled her into a kiss. It was deep and passionate, not like any of the other times they’ve kissed. They kept it going for as long as they can, holding their breath until they couldn’t anymore, and then they pulled apart, gasping for air with their foreheads touching.

“Will you go out with me?” He asked her, still struggling for air. “Like, on a real date, not just driving in the truck?”

“I guess,” Y/N said, teasingly. “If I have to.”

“I mean, you don’t have to. But if you do, I’m gonna need you to wear this again.” He grabbed her and pulled her closer to him, if that’s even possible. “Because, if I’m being honest, L/N, this is the hottest I’ve ever seen you. Like, I didn’t think you could get hotter, but here we are. Speaking of, can we go? I really want to go somewhere with you. Like, privately.” He winked at her, and she scoffed, rolling her eyes again.

“Don’t you need to raise money for your farm?” She asked him, gesturing to the booth behind them.

“Fuck the farm,” he said. “Save a horse, ride a cowboy, yeah?”

“Fuck off,” she said, pulling him into another kiss.

“Seriously though, can we go?”

#tyler owens #twisters #twisters 2024 #glen powell #tyler owens x reader #glen powell cinematic universe

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luludeluluramblings · 4 months ago

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Yandere! Batfamily x Smalltown! Neglected! Meta! Reader x Yandere! Superfamily

A/N: taking a moment to jot this down while in my head, because we gotta know what the Sups think of Reader. (Also because I watched the 1978 Superman movie like crazy as a kid and this whole series is spiraling into the longing for departed childhoods)

A/N: will probably edit this later; I’m still fleshing out some things

A/N: Also, we get a romantic yandere here!

Warning(s): Yandere themes, Obsessive behavior

To start with, Reader actually adores the Super family.

Jon is Reader’s third favorite person in Reader’s life. (Damian is livid about this fact.)

Reader will beg Bruce to go visit the Kent farm.

It’s as close to their hometown as Reader will ever get to see again. (Reader will willing give affection and call Bruce ‘dad’ just to go.)

And, Bruce can’t say it’s not safe,

Especially, since Clark met Reader and was utterly charmed.

(There is no way Reader can be Bruce’s kid, Reader is way too perfect and sweet.)

(Bruce literally carries the DNA test around to shove in Clark’s face when he start that conversation up again.)

Reader likes Clark, but he’s still Bruce’s friend first. (Which makes things awkward after Reader gets locked down by the Batfamily.)

Reader likes Lois too. (Until after lockdown, then things feel weird. But, Reader is capable of ignoring the weird feeling.)

Lois is extremely friendly with reader, just knows how to coax Reader into talking without it sounding like an interrogation. (Years of journalism and interviews.)

Jon, as stated, is Reader’s favorite.

Reader hugs him, calls him terms of endearment, ruffles his hair. Thinks he is precious and sweet. (Reader is not as affectionate at the manor, mostly because they don’t think the Batfamily cares.) (Wrong, they want that shit so bad. Please, hug them and love them. Even the less extreme yanderes crave it.)

And, Jon is here for it.

Reader gives older sibling vibes and Jon eats it up. (Damian may try stabbing him with kryptonite, but it’s worth it.)

Reader’s not as fond of Conner though.

He’s just another big city rich boy to Reader. (Reader does not care he’s a clone. Doesn’t bother them. Reader’s a meta that makes it rain and snow. So what if he has two dads?)

Conner, on the other hand, straight up Romantic Yandere for reader.

Sees himself as the black sheep in the Super family, where Reader is the lone white sheep in the Bat family.

Reader understands, he knows they do. (And, yes, it’s true reader does actually understand. Which makes the infatuation sooooo much worse.)

(Tim gets pissed about Conner liking reader. Thinking Reader is stealing his best friend away. But, then gets pissed when Conner tries to steal reader away from him after Tim goes full yandere.)

Kara is already in the future at this time. But, if she did meet Reader, they would be platonic soulmates. (Until Kara tries to take Reader to the future with her.)

#yandere batfamily #yandere dc #yandere tim drake #yandere batfam #yandere superman #yandere superfam #yandere bruce wayne #yandere damian wayne #yandere clark kent #yandere lois lane #yandere jon kent #yandere conner kent #platonic batfam #platonic superfam #Yandere Superboy #smalltown!reader

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lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 4 months ago

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Yandere Hitman // Accident

Imagine you wake up tied to a chair ducktape over your mouth and the weight of gravity weighing on your chest. Finally gaining your bearings you realize you are haphazardly hanging from a rickety-looking bridge above a raging river by a man in a black compression shirt a bored look on his face and a phone to his ear. You don’t try to struggle only watching wide-eyed as you hope this Hitman doesn’t drop you

“Really…the wrong one? Fine, I’ll figure it out.”

Breathing is so much easier when he pulls you from the edge with one hand by the way. He doesn’t untie you sighing exasperatedly while running a hand through his hair. Finally, he takes the ducktape off your mouth waving off your barrage of questions.

“Look things happened and I was supposed to kill someone who looks a lot like you but not.”

“So you're a hitman and you made a mistake?”

“Yup.”

“Are you going to kill me for knowing you then?”

“I don’t have to.”

“Then can I go home?”

“Er no.”

“Because I’m going to talk?”

“No more like you wouldn’t be able to get into the country anyway.”

Turns out the hitman who happened to target you was incredibly too thorough and ended up burning your ID, crafting up a reasonable missing persons case for you, and making it hard for you to do anything in the country that you can’t properly even find on a map. So to combat the absolute mess of having to go through all the legalese and interrogation you’d go through to get back to your life he comes up with his solution.

“How about you just stay with me? I’ve got more than enough room.”

And he does. It's a place that’s like a small castle, he reasons it’s best that you just help clean the place and maybe make a meal or two. You accept not that you had any other choice at this point so he’ll untie you and take you there. Wherever this backwater country is he’s got a home filled with villagers who are happy to care for it. And in a language you don’t recognize they celebrate it when he brings you home, cheering and excitedly holding your hands. He can’t help but laugh at you while you try to figure things out.

“Hey! What was she saying before?”

“You really shouldn’t just blindly nod to what people are saying. That’s what gets you in trouble.”

“What else am I supposed to do?! She was smiling so wide it must’ve been something nice, right?”

“Hahaha, you're hopelessly adorable.”

When this Hitman is not sitting around laughing at you or mistranslating your requests, he’s not so bad. As the only one who understands what you’re saying and can actually respond to you in a rewarding way. Dismissing that he ruined your everyday life, he’s decent company usually smirking to himself while he makes fun of whatever you're doing.

“That hat is way too big for you and so are your clothes. It’s kinda cute.”

“It’s not cute! For whatever reason nobody will give me anything other than your clothes it’s really inconvenient.”

“How do you know they're mine?”

“Because they smell like–”

“Awwww are you smelling me in your free time (Y/n)?”

“NO! Wait it’s just an observation—”

“Ewww so perverted (Y/n)~”

When he’s not around to mess with you, he’s off to work. Wearing those same tight-fitted pants he did when you first woke up. It’s…a little sad sometimes. He is the only one you can easily communicate with but you manage to enjoy the thousands of books he has in his home, hang out with the kittens of the farm, and slowly but surely get a grasp on the language all the villagers speak. Maybe one day you can surprise him by being able to call him out the next time he tries to humiliate you to the villagers. It certainly keeps you occupied from thinking about going home anytime soon.

“That’s another body in the ground. Where’s my money?”

The hitman once again casually dismembers another target for his client, taking a quick picture before hurrying to the store. You did say you were a fan of a certain gaming system, he’s got more than enough to spend now that he’s completed another job. Not that he really needed to that amount he had could very well pay for the entire lives of generations to come. That is if he hasn’t budgeted for a luxurious life with you.

“Mmm, which one should I get? Hmm?”

“Oh, are you interested in some of our AAA titles?”

“Not for me but for my partner….I’m just worried they’ll leave me and our kids out while playing.”

“Well if you like we have some lighthearted multiplayer games.”

“That’s perfect!”

He does plan as though you already have kids. He doesn’t need to know if you two will conceive with him or adopt but it doesn’t matter it’s happening. Because to him, you two are already bound to be happily married—all according to his plan. He’s just glad it’s going off so far without a hitch.

“Hi I’m back!”

“Welcome welcome hope everything went well for you chief!”

“How are their studies coming?”

“Decent but they’ll never fully be able to grasp the codes, just as you planned.”

“Perfect. (Y/n) they’re saying you should be the one to massage me this time.”

“What?! There is no way they said that.”

Your hitman’s greatest power is his nonchalant attitude. It’s what allows you to accept that it was his carelessness that led to you being targeted in the first place. It’s what have you not looking twice when ‘the villager’ demands you both feed each other. It might take a while before you fully become the you–he envisioned in his plans but he can wait.

After all your hitman’s waited this long. He doesn’t mind waiting a little more.

“Don’t think too much and let’s just let fate that I’ve chosen decide.”

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yanderemommabean · 11 months ago

Text

Silly Royal Yandere Idea-

Imagine being a worker for a royal family, you're a farmer who brings the goods to the kitchen every day and make sure all vegetables and fruits are fresh, not bruised, cleaned and ready to be prepared for their meals.

You usually make the trek alone, no big deal right? Just some heavy baskets and such but the job itself isn't really that bad. It's made even better actually when the young prince finds he fancies the way you work and how you farm, loves to walk with you on your way out of the kingdom and listen to you and your stories.

He's cute, you'll give him that. Curious and finally able to explore without much of an issue now that he's finished his training, his father boasting proudly today even that they shall share a feast in celebration.

The walks are nice, you aren't alone and are even safer as the highwaymen shrink away and know to stay back when they see such fierce eyes. Those calloused hands from fighting and training lay on your hips, pulling you closer to his side as you share yet another walk to your farm and get the baskets ready for another delivery.

These sweet meetings grow in size as time goes on. He's been given permission by the king and queen to bring you to the main rooms of the castle, though they aren't too happy that he disregards their rules about what you can and can't touch.

He's so puppy-like, grabbing your hand and pulling you everywhere he can, showing his favorite art, his instruments he's been playing while he waits for you to return, the things he requested be made to remind him of you, and some other odd but - at the time- well meaning items.

The prince however gets more and more demanding of your presence. So much so, that one morning you wake up to begin to water the crops and fetch some in your buckets but you opened the door to the man standing there, royal suit and all, a wide smile on his face as he greets you.

You insist you'll be at the castle soon, that you have work to be done, but he just pushes you forward as he walks with you, -not harsh, but definitely firm, making sure you couldn't turn away from him as he leads you.

"Just one day can't hurt right?" he says, "I just wish to spend the day with you, only you. It's why I took my own horse! He loves your carrots, you know? Only yours...He's very much like me in that regard".

You decide that, on one hand, denying the prince anything could be dire, the royal family having all say in what is done and you're lucky they have been so benevolent. Risking your business because you didn't want to indulge the odd prince...It isn't worth the reward of just keeping up with the crops and farm work.

But this one day out by the river and having the man buy you whatever you laid your eyes on, while sweet and very enjoyable, wasn’t enough. He shows up every morning now, you hear how exhausted his parents are when you reach the castle every time, they demand he act right, that he stop leaving without notifying any of the guards, but he just laughs it off and says “Why should they embark with me on my and my lovers adventures? Private matters are private father, remember?”

They know what's going on but it's so much darker and more twisted than anyone could have imagined. Boundaries get pushed more and more, you keep trying to keep your farm alive for not just the royal family, but yourself and the others who need you too, but the prince insists that your time is to be spent with him, only him.

It reaches its boiling point when you deny him a walk. No runs to the river, no waltz in the woods, not even a chat over tea. Your farm is sick, it needs tending, and you yourself are weary and exhausted from trying to balance it all out.

He goes silent, hands clenching at his side for a moment before he just smiles, wide and friendly as usual, and he kisses your hand before apologizing. You assure him you aren’t exactly mad, you just have things to finish, and he at least seems to understand that.

Or, so you thought. You crack open your eyes after waking up in a bed that wasn’t yours, hearing the horses outside neigh and chuff in terror as if something was very very wrong. You recognize the royal emblem on the wall, and you shoot straight up, knowing this was a carriage. You shove and knock on the doors, the smell of smoke filling your senses as you can only imagine the worst, but the heavy wood doesn’t budge and you can only make out garbled words as a man screams demands.

You manage to break open the boarded window of the carriage and watch as your farm is engulfed in flames, horses neighing in terror, ashes falling all around, your cabin falling in on itself from the blaze. And you gaze upon what you can only assume is the incarnation of death and war itself, a sign of the end times, as the Prince rides up on his own horse and tosses a lantern, the blaze only erupting hotter as he cackles in triumph.

You feel horrified tears well up in your eyes, so many emotions coming together at once. Everything you worked for, everything you had built from the ground up, all your memories and all of your belongings- gone.

Ash and embers fill the sky as the knights who came begin marching back to the carriage, staffs in hand as they finally open the doors. You lunge, wanting to tear your teeth into the heart of that evil, sick, twisted man, but he just laughs. It’s a soft amused laugh like when you told him your stories in the market or on your many many walks.

“Ah, I hadn’t expected that mixture to wear off so soon!” he boasts, stepping down from his own horse. His stride is slow, like he’s taking in the view of a beautiful field or admiring someones art. You want to spit at him, claw at him, break him in any way you could fathom.

His feet stop, the crumbling building behind him still a blazing orange and red, opposite of the cold features the prince wore on his face. His hand comes to gently cup your cheek, his thumb stroking across where tears are falling down your heated cheek. “Why so upset? I took care of what was keeping you away from me! I know, I know, you’re sad, but I made sure nothing of importance was hurt! Which wasn’t much. A picture or two should still be safe-” he says with an expression of after thought. “ Anyway, dearest, I fixed the issue! And you can now come where you’re meant to be! “ “I’ll kill you-” “Ah, even when murderous and livid you strike my heart with your beauty. Do tell me every wicked way you wish to end me! It thrills me, makes my skin crawl so pleasantly imagining you touching me in any manner” he taunts, squeezing your face a bit tighter. “Be it anger and resentment or true love, I’ll relish any touch you bring to me” “My lord, the sun will rise soon” a deep voice says from the side, your own eyes too stunned to look, uncaring as everything else sets in. Your home is gone, your fields are ruined, your possessions all roasted and incinerated. Nothing left but the haunting image of burned rubble and some charred remains of any item you owned.

You’re trapped. Imprisoned in a golden cage as this wild man declares that he and you are meant to be, whether you want it or not.

“Get some rest darling. I’ll lead us back to the castle” He says with a kiss to your forehead, allowing the knights to force you back inside. “Don’t be so angered! I promise to treat you like royalty! Since you will be, once the marriage is announced and all”

(Hope you liked this! Feel free to comment and tell me your thoughts! Especially spicy ones :3c -Mommabean)

#yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #mommabean #yandere prince #yandere royalty #yandere male #yandere prompts #sorry for typos #ok to interact #ok to reblog #ok to say stuff #ok to comment

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