#All Michael snores

[galaxyhearth]

To sleep is to surrender

---

Thinking about Tori's paranoia of sleep

[monicaalexandraaa]

This is such a movie !!!!!! I’m obsessed. I love it all.🤩🤩🤭🤭🩷🩷

Pucking Rookie II

Read Pucking Rookie here | ~8k words

From me: sloooooowwwwww burrrrrrrnnnnnnnn

Warnings: angsty, fluffy, douchey ex-boyfriend, a little violent

Summary: Harry is one of the most annoying people she's ever met. It's unfair he's talented, hot, and way nicer than her ex.

“So getting to the side of the ice before the puck is there is offsides?” Marc asked.

She nodded watching the Warriors center faceoff against the Bears on her TV screen. They were in the third period with only five minutes to go and the defenseman from the Bears was in the penalty box for a foul against the center. She thought it was a death sentence. “Correct.”

“They have that in other sports,” he sounded like a child remembering a fact from preschool. She smirked.

“Yes,” she laughed. “Are you sure you want to date this guy?”

“I want to date his dick,” Marc shrugged. She snorted and shook her head.

“Fair enough.”

Her phone lit with a message from Kael. He wanted to see her when she was in town with The Chargers. It was the last thing she wanted to do, but it would have been nice to get some of her stuff back. If he kept it.

“Are you speaking to Harry again?” Marc asked.

It was impossible to keep the smile from growing on her face. She rubbed a hand over her mouth to hide it. “Yeah...” she nodded. “It’s kind of hard not to talk to anyone on the team.”

“The fact you went a whole week without talking to that hot as hell man is beyond me. You’re a better woman than me.”

She snorted. They were coming down to the final two minutes and the goalie skated to the bench and another player glided across the ice. “So, when the team is down by a goal or two, they send the goalie off the ice so they can get another scorer in position. But it leaves the goal open. It’s risky.”

“You are seriously doing that team a disservice by not dating them,” he murmured. “If I was into women I wouldn’t let you out in public. You’re so perfect.”

She laughed. “I am not perfect.”

“Babe, you are stunning, you know hockey, and you make the best cookies I’ve ever tasted.”

“It’s not enough,” she told him sipping her water and standing up. But sure enough, The Warriors scored without their goalie in the next. She had to get to the rink for the night game. She smirked, wiggled eyebrows at Marc, and turned off her TV.

“You should bet money on these things.”

She put on her regular outfit for a night of taking pictures at the rink. Her hands had to be free (and yes, they would freeze) but she wore a thick sweatshirt below the jersey. It had Niall’s name on the back. She figured he was the least likely to make a big deal of wearing someone’s name on her back. She honestly hoped no one noticed that she picked it. She didn’t want to make it seem like she had a favorite on the team. Because she didn’t. And it definitely wasn’t Harry Styles.  

Truthfully, she stole Niall’s old jersey out of the bin in the locker room. It got ripped in a game where someone got a little too irritated with Niall’s good goal tending. There was a significant tear along the seam because Harry was the first one to get to Niall when the incident occurred. Harry accidentally tore at it while trying to get his hands on the opponent and wound up in the penalty box for two minutes because of it.

She spent part of the following evening sewing it carefully back together while watching a movie on Netflix.

Once her winter boots were on, she slipped her camera bag and press pass over her shoulder and neck respectively. She was ready for the evening. Marc walked her down to her car. They both waved at Michael who was pacing outside while smoking a cigarette. “Hey Sweetheart,” he called. Michael was about five years younger than her and way too grumpy for his own good. But he often perked up on her behalf. “Good luck to the team.”

“Thanks!” She smiled as if she had any responsibility for how well they did.

Marc made sure she got in the car safely and winced when her car took two turns to start because of the cold. Once assured her car would remain running, Marc went to Michael’s side and bummed a cigarette from him as she pulled out of the lot in front of the building. What a weird little family she was creating in a weird part of town.

Her car seemed angry that it was being asked to do its job, and she worried that one day it was going to die on her way there. If it did, she was nervous it would be a thing and Uncle Charlie would be pissed. She could see it now. But instead, she listened to her music, stopped to splurge for a coffee made by someone else, and headed to the rink.

At the very least, she was happier than she had been in a very long time. There was no weight around her worrying she wasn’t the perfect girlfriend, the perfect arm candy for her hockey boyfriend. She didn’t worry about looking weird or awkward. She felt more like herself behind the lens, at the rink, and at The Locker Room, and at her apartment with her new friends than she had in years.

Maybe she didn’t need any of her stuff back from Kael. If she never spoke to him again, then she would be okay.

*

“Niall you lucky motherfucker!” Asher yelled.

She wasn’t paying much attention as the boys finally arrived for their game. She was in the middle of a conversation with Uncle Charlie as she went over the pictures she was planning to submit to the news outlets, looking over the tiny screen in her hands. She showed off her non-athletic photography skills. This included the senior pictures she took of her cousin (Charlie’s daughter), and she told him which ones she thought were best. This naturally led to discussing the holidays. Her hope was he was willing to carpool to her parents’ house. It was selfish, mainly because she didn’t think her car would make it the three-hour drive out of the city. Not that she was going to tell him that.

But the boys interrupted before she could get that far. She turned, smiled brightly at her team of restless twenty-something-year-old puppies. She set her coffee on the ledge of the window of an office for one of the team assistants and gave the boys a proper wave. “Are you all ready for gameday?” She asked.

But no one was paying any attention to her greeting. Instead, their gazes were focused on the number on her body. The black-and-silver-lettering and logo was riveting it seemed even though it was on all their own jerseys as well.

So much for it not being a thing. “Sweetheart, I’m honored,” Niall chuckled. Were his cheeks pink in embarrassment? That was cute—he looked so nervous. Niall was adorable. She could see why Harry was so protective of him. In the time she had gotten to know him, she seriously didn’t know how someone so sweet and nice could be roped into a rough and tumble sport like hockey.

“What?” She asked curiously, hoping that if she acted confused, they wouldn’t make it a bigger deal than it needed to be.

It seemed there was little chance of such a thing. “You’re wearing my jersey,” his grin remained shy and so, so adorable.

Well, maybe she could use it to her advantage. “Well, don’t tell the others but you’re my favorite,” she winked.

But it wasn’t quiet and everyone heard it. The gasps and scoffs of disbelief echoed loudly as they entered the locker room to drop some of their stuff. First there would be game day entrance photos, the boys looking dressed in not quite formal but not so casual attire. The stuff that made hearts throb to look at them (and other organs throb if she was honest). They would pose as if they hadn’t already walked in, and no one would know except for them.

Niall turned a shade redder and headed in. “Don’t break my goalie,” Charlie warned.

“I would never break Niall!” She pouted petulantly at her uncle. “Why are they all up and arms about the jersey? It was free and I fixed it. Is it not allowed?”

He shook his head. “Don’t worry about it, Sweetheart,” he chuckled. “It’s just a dumb hockey-guy thing,” he patted her on the back and headed into the locker room.

“Harry’s running late,” Lang said as he returned with just a duffle bag and an overpriced water bottle that was part of his sponsorship deal. “Hit some traffic or something. So, you might not get his game day entrance,” he told her with a shrug.

She nodded. “That’s fine,” she shrugged and snapped a picture of him while he wasn’t really focused, testing the lighting and frame once more now that she had a subject. “There’s enough of you guys to suffice as eye candy for the day we probably won’t need everyone’s picture.”

Lang laughed, covering his mouth. “Sweetheart, please say that in front of Harry while I’m around and you’re wearing that jersey,” he begged. She frowned unsure what he meant by that specifically. Instead, she shook her head and began ordering the captain and his teammates around to get the first part of her evening’s tasks done.

*

Harry showed up just as she took the last shot of the team walking into the locker room. He was pouring the last bit of his protein shake into his mouth while she examined her camera once more and sipped her coffee that she left on the ledge of the window. There was so much more activity back by the locker room as game time approached. There were team doctors, athletic trainers, assistants, and more milling around.

Harry hated being late. It messed with his pre-game rituals. But there wasn’t anything he could do about traffic. Plus, Hayden lived on the exact opposite side of the city. He really shouldn’t have bothered with trying to sneak a quick hook-up in before the game. But he needed something to take the edge off and nothing was working.

Granted the hook-up left him feeling unsatisfied as well. Although it wasn’t Hayden’s fault. She was lovely, truly. It was all Harry’s brain. Something was off and he couldn’t quite place it.

But one look at the pretty photographer wearing the number thirty-one on her body reminded him that he was much more aware of the issue than he was willing to admit. He blinked hoping his eyes were mistaken. But no, the name Horan was on her back.

“Rookie!” He called.

What the fuck was he going to say? It didn’t even make sense for him to be mad. She didn’t do anything wrong. God, Harry was an idiot. She was off limits. For all he knew she had one of everyone’s jersey and was going to rotate through.

It was probably not a good sign that she looked up when she heard that nickname, right? It wasn’t good to get used to knowing it was Harry calling her the moment she heard his teasing. But right then, Harry didn’t look teasing. His gaze was laser-focused on her torso (and not the way she would expect him to be focused on her chest). “Hi Harry,” she smiled, sweetly; hoping vehemently that this wasn’t about the jersey. “Do you want a game day photo?” She asked gently holding her camera up.

“What the fuck are you wearing?” He snapped.

This hoping thing ain’t shit. She thought. Glancing down at her outfit once more, she frowned. “I thought I looked cute,” she pouted.

Harry was all but half a foot in front of her. “You’re wearing Niall’s jersey.”

“It’s from the locker room, it was going to get thrown out, so I just sewed it,” she shrugged. “Is that not allowed? No one said anything.”

He seemed to bristle but settled at the same time. She really didn’t get what the big deal was. “S’fine,” he grumbled. “Y’do look cute. You always look cute,” he rolled his eyes and pushed the locker room door open with a little too much power. She shook her head and heard laughter from behind the door.

“Boys are weird,” she sighed and headed for the tunnel to get to the ice.

*

She texted Michael from her car when she got back to the apartment at one in the morning. It was dark, cold, and she had a weird feeling as she pulled into the small lot. He hurried out yawning as he did. He was wearing only shorts, a t-shirt, and slippers. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,” she frowned and hurried to the front of the building. He waited patiently for her to lock her car.

“S’fine, Sweetheart,” he shrugged and yawned.

“Thank you,” she said gratefully. She really needed to find a new place, so she didn’t have to bother them. But she swore she could feel someone’s eyes following her as she closed the entry door to her building. Michael headed down the first-floor hall to his place without another word. She stopped at her small little mailbox, locked on the inside. Only a slit in the wall from the outside to get in. It was all junk and bills. She didn’t give her address to anyone. Not even Uncle Charlie had her real address. She mentioned some apartment complex on the good side of town. But when pressed, she immediately diverted and asked if he would be okay with shipping her Amazon packages to his house. It did the trick, fortunately. Her parents didn’t think much of it either because they knew Charlie was keeping an eye on her.

It was all she could afford after not working much because of Kael and his weird obsession with making sure she played the proper part of picture-perfect hockey girlfriend. This was a sketchy part of town, and she knew it and didn’t like living here either. But what could she really do? Making friends with Michael and Marc was easy and she was lucky. So very lucky to have people keep an eye out for her when she got home late and felt like she was being followed.

So, when she turned to the stairwell behind the little mail room and saw the very angry hockey player outside the door of her building peering through the glass, she practically jumped back a foot and immediately and nearly screamed.

She clamped a hand over her mouth and pressed the other one to her heart, dropping her mail in the process. “What the fuck are you doing?!” She whisper-screamed opening the door.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Harry hissed stepping inside. He gathered up her mail handing it to her. He continued glaring as he took in the run-down place. “Do you live here?”

“Yes!”

“Rookie, this is not a safe area. Why are y’living here?”

“Because I can afford it? What kind of fucking question is that?”

Harry looked so good having just played a grueling game that included overtime and a shootout. His hair was still damp from his shower. His face glowing that way he managed to do in the dead of winter that was so unfair to her. He smelled good—too good. He wore a black hoodie, black pants, and black sneakers. Like he was trying to blend in with the night. The only not good-looking thing about him at the moment was the sour expression on his otherwise extremely pretty features. The furrow between his eyebrows looked angry. The green of his eyes appeared darker, almost black to match his clothes. His mouth was pressed in a flat line.

But even angry, Harry looked hot. He had been angry all evening. Since he set foot in the arena. He didn’t relax when they all went to The Locker Room either. He hardly spoke to Niall and barely acknowledged his good goal tending. “Does coach know you live here?”

She shook her head. “Harry, shut the fuck up. Why did you follow me home like a creep!?”

“Because s’one in the morning and y’said y’were exhausted and that your car was a piece of shit! I was making sure y’made it home. I didn’t know home was even scarier!”

“Hey babe, everything alright? Michael texted you would be on your way up and to keep an ear out.” Marc called as he approached them descending the stairs.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” she whispered and rubbed her temples.

“Holy shit,” Marc gaped.

“Harry, this is Marc,” she introduced the pair, but lacked any enthusiasm. “He’s my neighbor.”

Harry glared at him—even though he didn’t deserve it. “Hi,” he said curtly.

“I’m fine,” she told Marc. “Harry followed me home.”

“Great game today, man,” he looked awestruck; no longer concerned about her well-being at all and entirely concerned about the beautiful man in front of him. “That was a bogus penalty in the second period.”

“I said the same thing,” she nodded in agreement hoping it would remind Harry that she made her own little place here and he didn’t need to worry. That he was her friend.

Harry softened just a little. His shoulders untensed ever so slightly. “Thanks,” he nodded curtly, trying to remain polite to a fan when he wanted to shake the sweet photographer. “Rookie, show me your place,” he ordered.

“Michael and I keep an eye on her,” Marc offered sensing there was a deeper issue.

Harry eyed him up and down and then turned back to her. “Show me your place,” he repeated.

“No!”

“Jesus, babe, show the hot man your apartment!”

She pressed her fingers to her forehead and slid them down her nose and over her lips as she spoke. “Marc,” she sighed. “Go away.”

“Huge fan,” he held his hands up in surrender and made his way upstairs.

Harry was staring at her in disbelief. “You’re not living here.”

“Harry,” she sighed.

“I’ve had a shit day, Rookie. Don’t fucking test it,” he snapped and headed up the stairs figuring he would find it on his own because he would just know? She shook her head.

“Third floor,” she mumbled following behind him. He sighed with relief from ahead of her.

“Take that stupid fucking shirt off,” he said once the door was shut.

“Why are you so angry today?” She shed her camera carefully setting it on the small table. Then her badge. She dropped her keys on the table too. Quickly, before he could get angrier, she rid herself of the jersey and her hoodie.

Harry sighed again, relieved it seemed of what she didn’t know. Without broiling in irritation over his friend’s name all over the girl he had a massive crush on, he was able to focus a little more. Glancing around he inspected the small place. It was cute, adorable even. Just like her.

She bent to take her shoes off. “Do you want water or something? You’re so keyed up... Maybe you want a sedative?” She rolled her eyes at him.

He snorted. “Pass,” he continued looking around. “S’nice, really,” he murmured

“It is,” she agreed. “I don’t plan on staying here forever, but it’s what’s affordable right now. Not all of us make seven figures a year for their talent.”

He ignored her and wandered around the little rooms she had. On all of her walls were more photos she had clearly taken. It didn’t take much for him to figure out her style. It was natural and lovely. “S’cold in here.”

“Heat’s expensive,” she remarked. “Do you want some tea?” She asked.

He shook his head. “No, thank you, Rookie,” he mumbled relaxing more as he inhaled deeply. Everything was so intoxicatingly her in this room. It smelled so good. She smelled so good. “Is Marc in love with you?” He asked offhandedly.

“Not unless I identify as a man, which I don’t.”

He smirked, unable to hide the amusement. She was so funny, it was unfair. Beautiful, talented, kind, and funny. She was made in a lab and meant to tempt every one of Harry’s desires. “What ‘bout the guy that walked y’in?” He picked up the book that was on her coffee table and read the back of it, wondering what kind of books she was into and if she liked the same things as him. He set the book down carefully.

“Michael? No. He’s a baby.”

“He’s taller than you,” he murmured.

“He’s not in love with me. Well, actually, I do make him cookies. So maybe,” she shrugged.

He shook his head wishing he could focus on his own questions. But she was too quick and Harry was too tired.

On the wall of her living room was an array of small frames. Probably fifteen or so four by six photos that his mom would have put in a photo album. He recognized Charlie and Ray. A man he could only assume was Charlie’s brother and her dad as they looked like twins with different hair and eye coloring. Girls in their teens, a dog that never seemed to age even though the family around it did, and her gorgeous smile.

There was also a stupid fucking picture of Niall on her wall beside a team photo which made him want to yank it down and stomp on it like a psychopath.

Poor Niall did nothing to deserve Harry’s wrath. The team teased him the moment he went into the locker room telling him all about how she said Niall was his favorite. It wasn’t surprising. Niall was nice and sweet. He didn’t hook up with a bunch of girls nor did he go from city to city hoping to be entertained by a different girl. He was a nice guy. Probably the kind of guy she did deserve. Especially after whatever it was that Kael did to arguably ruin his life by losing her. He barely congratulated him on his saves in the game. Didn’t even buy him a drink at the bar either. To Niall’s credit, he didn’t take it too harshly. Merely smirked at him as he glared. Knowing it really had nothing to do with him at the heart of it.

But the picture of his best friend on her wall just made him grumpier all over again. It didn’t help that Harry was exhausted. He dreaded having to drive home this late. Especially when he was mad on top of everything else. But having seen where she lived, he was glad he followed her home. Didn’t care that it was creepy. It would have made him insane to know she wasn’t safe.

There wasn’t much he could do but turn his attention to her kitchen so he could avoid the stupid picture of his stupid friend who he didn’t like very much at present.

Right there on the fridge door was one of her family photos—clearly taken at a wedding or something. A quick glance showed she wasn’t in it which made him sad. How often was she left out of pictures because she was always the one taking them? Beside her family was the side-by-side duo picture of herself that he saw on her website. A photo of her parents’ dog next to that. A couple landscapes of the ocean and sun.

Right in the middle of all her photos was a picture of Harry.

He swore time stopped. All his anger towards Niall disappeared. Why was he on her fridge? It was the picture of when he scored a goal, from one of the first games she photographed this year. The one she sent him the first time she texted him. “Why’s this on the fridge?” He asked, straightening it alongside the others it. There was a magnet on the back and Harry felt his chest constrict a bit knowing he wasn’t on the wall, but he was in her house. She cared in some way enough to put him among her pictures of family and friends.

She shrugged. “I put all of my favorite pictures on the fridge,” she said it so simply. It wasn’t a big deal to her. The pictures belonged there and that was it. It just was.

His heart sincerely skipped a beat. Like if he were a cartoon, a graphic of a little heart monitor would appear in a cloud bubble, and it would show an irregular rhythm representing the way she made him feel. His gaze flickered to her briefly, but he was worried he would stare and never look away. He cleared his throat and looked toward her wall of photos. “What ‘bout the wall over there?”

“Those are nice pictures too, but I don’t really look at the wall much. It’s behind me when I sit on the couch, you know...? The fridge however,” she had a smile in her voice. “I love snacks and cooking and baking. So, I’m in the kitchen a lot. So, I like to look at my favorites.”

Harry felt softer. Relieved. Less mad and annoyed than he’d been in hours. Maybe even days if he was honest. Harry was one of her favorites. Even if she didn’t mean he was her favorite and merely the photo.

“Bunny?” He asked softly staring at the other half dozen or so of her favorites.

She didn’t miss a beat answering to the nickname that she didn’t really like. But she did really like the way it sounded when Harry said it. “Yeah?”

“Would y’ever wear my jersey?” His voice was quiet, he felt stupid for asking. The question wouldn’t leave his brain until he said it. Whatever the answer was, he had to ask it.

She frowned and sighed. Harry hated that. It seemed like a terrible question, and he was dreading her answer immediately. “I hate to say it, Harry, but I can’t afford a Styles jersey.”

He rolled his eyes. “Would y’wear it?”

“Of course I would, Harry. You’re my friend just like Niall is. And Asher, Callie, and Lang. I really only wore it because you guys were throwing it out.”

Harry rubbed a hand on the side of his face. He could live with that. “Alright.”

“Did I miss something?” She asked. But he knew how perceptive she was. She had to know how much it bothered him that she wore his friend’s name and number on her body today and not his. She had to know he had a crush on her. Even if he couldn’t do anything about it.

“Nope,” he shook his head not wanting to get into it further.

“Are you sure I can’t get you something to drink?” She asked again. “You seem really out of sorts...maybe you need something without alcohol?”

“Sure,” he sighed. She could give him whatever she wanted. She wouldn’t be able to tell, but he was relieved now. He didn’t need anything else. “Tea would be nice...” She nodded, gently nudging him out of the way to get a pitcher of water from her fridge. “Can I stay here?”

“You want to stay in my crappy little apartment? After you went on and on about how unsafe it is?” She questioned filling the kettle on her stove.

Fair point, Bunny. “M’exhausted, Rookie. I told you I had a bad day.”

“I see that,” she pouted and scanned him up and down. “Of course you can. You have to take my bed though; the couch is too small for you.”

He shook his head. “M’not kicking y’out of your bed when I barged in.”

“Well... it was... kind of nice that you made sure I got home safely. I’m glad it was you, but I was pretty nervous... so if it wasn’t you...” she shook her head and looked at her hands wringing them awkwardly. “I’m sorry you got stuck here,” she pouted.

More of him softened somehow. It seemed impossible that she could make him feel any softer. He was certain he never felt softer than when she said that his picture was one of her favorites. The way she spoke was so gentle.

“I fall asleep most nights on the sofa anyway,” she shrugged, unaware of the thoughts rolling through Harry’s head. She probably hadn’t a clue how she made him imagine her adorable body curled into the small sofa with a blanket around her. What it would be like for him to come home from a game and find her snuggled into a sweatshirt with his cologne on it, the TV playing the post-game highlights, and her hands tucked under her cheek. Did she snore? Harry ached to know.

God he was fucked. How did she walk into the arena and do that? Harry thought of nothing but hockey and hookups. Now he wondered if she snored at night.

She carefully poured the hot water into a mug with The Charger’s logo on the outside and dipped the tea bag in and out a few times letting the water do its thing. She slid it across the small counter before she poured her own mug. They stood silently for a moment, sipping tea.

“I might have something of Kael’s for you to sleep in.”

“I’d rather die than sleep in that piece of shit’s clothes.”

She smirked around the edge of her mug and shook her head. “Are you cold?” She asked.

He shook his head. It was cold but he wasn’t cold. He would be fine with a few blankets. A warm body beside him would be good too, but he wasn’t sure he could convince her.

She put her mug in the sink and went to the bathroom without warning. After a few minutes, she returned. Her face was washed of makeup, her hair pulled back, and she wore a pair of sweatpants instead. She grabbed a pillow off her bed. “Normally I’d change your sheets, but... It’s too late. I hope you don’t mind.”

Wrapped up in sheets, blankets, and pillows that smelled like her? Fine by him. “S’fine, Rookie. Thank you.”

She grabbed more blankets from under her sofa cushion; a space for storage hiding in plain sight. She placed them at the end of her bed and then went to the sofa. “Make yourself at home,” she offered. “Night, Harry,” she yawned and settled into her pillow and blanket, nuzzling into the warmth just as he imagined, her hands tucked under her cheek.

“Night, Rookie,” he mumbled and climbed into her bed. He was practically asleep before he was fully settled.

*

It couldn’t have been more than a couple hours later—it was still very dark out. Her bed was warm, soft, and smelled so fucking good he thought he might sew himself into the sheets just so he never had to leave. But it was undeniably cold. Even in his hoodie and sweats.

He glanced across the room and could barely make out the shadow of his pretty crush curled into the sofa. She looked chilled and Harry felt so immensely guilty. He got out of bed, his feet nearly stinging on the cold floor. Without more thought he scooped her up. His arms looping around the back of her knees and the other around her waist. He tried to move her without jostling her too much. Her head fell toward him, pressing into his chest as he carried her back to the bed. He settled her under her sheets and blankets. He wanted nothing more than to cozy up to her, but he wasn’t going to ruin the progress he made that night. Instead, he slipped between the sheet and blanket, draped the pair of them in the other blankets.

She sighed loudly in her sleep. Like she was comfortable.

Harry didn’t think there was anyone cuter than her.

*

Harry woke up to her burrowed into his side. He didn’t dare move. If she wanted out, she would have to make the move. There wasn’t anything that would get Harry to remove himself from her warm body in the same bed as him. It was almost too warm, but well worth it.

“Jesus,” she whispered suddenly and scooched back in the bed. “Harry!” She hissed.

He smirked. “Good morning, Rookie,” he yawned. “Sleep well?”

“How did I get here?”

“Y’must have tucked yourself in with me,” he smiled.

She rolled her eyes, shook her head. “Shut up,” she mumbled.

“Y’jus’ looked cold,” he shrugged. “S’plenty of room.”

She sighed. “Well thanks, it was cozy,” her cheeks turned red. “Do you want something to eat?” She asked, immediately pivoting from their little late-night cuddle.

“Y’make breakfast too?”

“It’s actually my favorite meal...” she trailed off pushing the covers off. “I love going out to breakfast,” she got out of bed and grabbed a sweatshirt from her dresser. Harry sensed there was more to that, but as soon as he saw her sweatshirt, all previous thoughts left his mind.

Niall’s number and name on her body made him mad.

The words Glacier Wolves across the front in it’s hideous font was going to send him to an early grave.

“No,” he shook his head immediately. “Take it off.”

“You’re awfully bossy about my outfits, Harry,” she rolled her eyes. “It’s cold. I need a sweatshirt.”

Harry pulled the one he was wearing off. “Here.”

For a moment she eyed it. Harry couldn’t figure out her expression or the pause that lasted as she examined it. “Harry it’s like ten degrees out,” she pulled the hem down and walked toward her bathroom again.

He pouted, grumbling to himself as he put his clothing back on. “M’burning that,” he mumbled.

“I heard that!”

*

Harry left after breakfast. He didn’t bug her about her sweatshirt. But he did beg her to turn the heat on for a little bit. He helped her with dishes and not once did the conversation feel forced, awkward, or like there was a lull that lasted too long. He watched her take pictures of her food, then the way the light streamed in through the window, so it hit her coffee table just so. She adjusted her book to an open page and set a hot cup of tea beside it.

With a couple of snaps, Harry watched her while biting into his toast. “Can I see?” He asked.

“It’s nothing special. I just take random pictures sometimes for practice,” she explained.

He wiped his hand on his leg and held it out expectantly for the priceless equipment. It felt weird, awkward. Tentatively, she handed it to him. Not only had she captured the beauty of the early morning in her little place, she took another picture of Harry drinking tea in between bites.

He smiled. “Aw, Rookie, me?” He teased. She didn’t say anything, looked anywhere but him while her pink cheeks spoke for the emotions she was feeling. “M’not sure why but m’still really impressed,” he tabbed through the pictures she took on the little screen.

She must have faced the camera backwards because her pretty smiling face with the ice rink as back drop behind her illuminated the screen. Harry loved everything about the photo. It had her and his beloved hockey rink. “Can I have this one?” He asked.

“I was going to delete that,” she blushed. Harry frowned.

“No way, Rookie, y’look adorable. Let me have it, y’got me on your fridge.”

She looked away shyly, nodded silently. “I’ll text it to you.”

Harry was unbelievably talented and attractive. He could outthink his opponents on the ice and he was sweet enough to make sure she got home safe. Carried her to bed in the middle of the night to keep her warm.

It wasn’t fair that she couldn’t have him. Even if it was her own doing.

Around ten or so, Harry had to head out and she hated to admit it, but she really missed him almost the moment he left.

*

The following day she headed to practice taking pictures for the team’s social media posts. Ray and Charlie were at the center of the ice waiting for the team to file out of the locker room. She took a picture of her uncle and surrogate uncle. Then she setup for some detail shots while waiting. The score book and pen on the bench. A stick propped up behind the bench. She laid flat on the ice and got a shot of the coach’s shoes on the center of the ice.

“Hey Sweetheart!” Callie called from across the rink—first one on the ice. Ray threw a puck at him, and he shot it into the net. Charlie threw another and he pushed the puck back and forth near him. “Laying down on the job?”

She snorted, shook her head with a smile. “Come here!” He glided over and stopped in front of her without getting ice all over her and her equipment. “Put your stick flat on the ground,” she ordered. She reached out and touched the puck and pushed it in front of the slight bend at the end of his stick. “Take your helmet off, and your gloves.”

“You gonna tell me to take more of my uniform off, Sweetheart?” He teased but followed her directions.

“You wish.”

“I do wish, Sweetheart, I do.”

She shook her head while centering her view on the shot she wanted. “Don’t move.”

“Yes ma’am,” he sighed dreamily. He was enjoying her bossing him around too much and she couldn’t help but smile while she clicked the shutter taking several of the same photo.

“Okay, thank you,” she carefully maneuvered so she would flop awkwardly back on the ice. Callie immediately grabbed her camera and then took hold of her arm to help her up. Once righted, she brushed the ice off the front of her body. She was quite chilled from lying on the ground for so long. Plus her apartment was cold, naturally her car’s heater was chilly, and it felt like she never quite got out of the cold ever because of it.

“Can I see?” He said excitedly.

She turned the camera to show him. Her teeth chattered a little more than usual. Callie put an arm around her shoulders to add some warmth. He was tall and lean like most other hockey players. And undoubtedly attractive too. “You’re pushing it, Kian,” she shook her head but didn’t mind how warm he felt.

“No one calls me Kian except my mother, Sweetheart,” he reminded her. “You’re cold. Don’t read into it,” he took the camera from her and thumbed through the photos pressing the buttons beside the screen to view them. “Wow,” he murmured. “That’s so cool, Sweetheart. It looks really beautiful.”

She blushed with pride and ducked her face. “Thank you.”

“You know... I’m not sure what he did, but Kael is an idiot to lose you,” he affirmed clicking through more of the photos. “Can we take one?” He asked.

“Yeah, sure,” she turned the camera around and pointed where Callie needed to look. He squeezed around her a little tighter as she clicked the shutter. He immediately took the camera back and examined the photo. “Cute, Sweetheart,” he grinned and continued flipping through all her photos. Including the ones from her breakfast with Harry the day before. “Ooh... what’s this?” He cooed. “Did you and Styles have a sleepover?!” He gaped.

She took her camera back. “No,” she didn’t even blush. It wasn’t his business. She didn’t want Charlie to hear.

And she definitely didn’t want Harry to hear.

Harry slid onto the ice his eyes zeroing in on his teammate’s arm wrapped around her almost immediately. She felt a little awkward knowing that he seemed to be a bit territorial about her even though it wasn’t really within his right. He glowered at the puck that Charlie tossed to him, and it sailed almost immediately into the net from where he stood. “I can’t compete with him, Sweetheart,” Callie frowned. “Please tell me you don’t actually like Styles.”

“I like all of you, Kian,” she rolled her eyes, tearing her eyes away from his broody skating.

“But you like me most, right?” Asher appeared seemingly out of nowhere.

“She likes you least,” Lang said assuredly skating by just as quick. She laughed and shook her head.

“I like you all equally,” she promised.

“Bull shit, you can’t sell a twenty-way-tie!” Asher frowned.

She loved her little family away from her real one. This team made her feel more loved and appreciated than Kael ever did. It was eye-opening in so many ways. Was it just because she took pictures on the team? Would they behave this way if she was just a girlfriend? Or the coach’s niece without special treatment? She got special treatment from the other girlfriends and wives of the Glacier Wolves simply because she was Kael’s girlfriend.

At about the same time she started to feel drained by her relationship (the last six months before it ended), she overheard two of the significant others talking about her in the bathroom. While she was using the bathroom... They said Kael was an idiot to stay with her. She was a leech and nothing more. For three years she had been nothing but a good girlfriend. She attended every game, catered to Kael’s workout schedules, practice schedules. She monitored his calendar and made sure his stunning, penthouse apartment was cleaned. She hosted parties for his teammates. For three years post-graduation she didn’t take photography gigs, skipped family parties, and let her degree sit on a shelf unused to it’s full potential.

Maybe The Chargers boys were just being kind because she was the coach’s niece. Maybe her skill really was subpar. Wasn’t she really just a leech in a new way now? Her uncle got her this job and they didn’t really need her.

Kael fucked her up good. Made her feel worthless. He didn’t value her skill and made her believe she wasn’t good enough in any part of her life. “Hey Sweetheart?” Callie asked, giving her a squeeze, bringing her mind back to the present. “You good?”

She nodded. “Sorry, just daydreaming.”

“About me?!” Asher grinned. She smiled. At least for now, this family she had was sweet. She wanted to believe they valued her for her and savor it for however long she could.

*

While the boys practiced, she went to the locker room and tidied up, brought the dirty uniform hamper to the laundry room, and brought the clean laundry back. She took more detail shots without the boys around. It was fun to get them in the shots, like the ones she took with Callie. But ever-like puppies, it was easier to get pictures without them milling around eagerly. She took some really nice shots of their locker space. With the right lighting, it would look like they were ready for battle—she could see it in her head, and she couldn’t wait to get the shots of their numbers alongside equipment on her computer to play with the settings.

But after about an hour of that, she ran out of things to do. She sauntered back to the rink and watched from the bench. Ray and Charlie stood at the center dictating where they should go and what to do next. It was mesmerizing. The beauty and graceful agility these tall, lean, padded men exuded was incredible.

“Take a picture it will last longer!”

The team burst into laughter as Callie called out to her. She shook her head but certainly did just that.

“Hey Sweetheart,” Niall grinned coming over during another break. “Heard you had Harry over. Hope he wasn’t too much trouble.”

She smiled. “No, he was good,” she assured him. “It was nice he followed me home. To make sure I was safe.”

“Yeah, he’s decent like that. His sister Gemma made him a real gentleman,” he agreed. “He didn’t like you wearing my jersey,” he told her.

“I’m well aware.”

“I won’t say no if you wear it again.”

She laughed. “Will do.”

“Want to make him madder taking a picture?”

“Maybe tomorrow, Kian made him pretty mad today with that one already.”

“Who?” Niall furrowed his eyebrows. She shook her head and silently laughed. “Is that what the silent treatment was for?” Niall asked with a laugh and skated off to rejoin his team.

*

At the end of practice, she took shots of them leaving the ice, the empty net. In her head she had a series of photos. The sequence of a hockey game and maybe she would put it into motion one day. She sat on the bench looking at her camera screen and sifted through some of the multiples she didn’t need.

“Hey Rookie,” Harry said softly.

She looked up and smiled. “Hi, Harry.”

Dangling from his fingers were a pair of figure skates. All white, pink guards, pink anterior cushioning, and pink laces.

“I got you these.”

She blinked. “Why?”

“To practice.”

“Harry, I cannot accept that. I know how much ice skates cost. Those have to be close to 400 dollars.”

He shrugged. “That’s what a good pair cost.”

“Harry, I can’t even stand on the ice. Return them. I’m not taking a 400-dollar pair to ruin because I can’t even stand still while wearing them... And they’re practically giving me blisters from just looking at them. I don’t have the right socks..." Harry looked disappointed and he frowned. "But... that... that was very sweet of you,” she added. Because she hadn’t said thank you yet, and it was sweet. It was extremely thoughtful of him. “Thank you,” she added gratefully. “That was so nice of you.”

“Do you like Callie?” He blurted.

“Do you think I’m in love with every man I meet?” She countered.

“You two looked cozy,” he mumbled.

“I was cold,” she admitted. “He offered his jersey, but I didn’t want a repeat of the other night,” she quipped. Harry smirked and looked away from her. “I’m not dating hockey players, remember?” She grabbed her camera and bag ready to leave the rink.

“Yeah...” he sighed, rubbed the back of his head. “I know, Rookie.”

*

There was a knock on her door later that evening. She assumed it was Michael asking if she had baked anything after feeling a bit on the munchier side of life. It probably wasn’t Marc because he had a date with the hockey lover. But maybe it was an early night for them, so who knew.

Instead, Harry was there. A pair of skates dangling from his fingers once more. The guards were still pink, there were scuffs on the toes and heels. The interior was cushioning was a light brown. “They’re a good brand. Used, so they didn’t cost a lot. But full disclosure, they were the most expensive used pair I could find because m’not gonna let y’skirt on the quality because of the cost. They won’t hurt your feet with blisters being brand new.”

Harry, with used ice skates, was the last person she expected to see. There was a tug in her chest where her heart would have melted for Kael to do something as kind as that. But she couldn’t fall in love with Harry. It was just a bad idea. He was a celebrity. There were millions of women he could choose from.

“Have you had it with dragging me around the ice or something?” She asked.

He chuckled and shook his head. “No, but... I want t’help you, Rookie. Y’should know how t’skate. Think of the pictures y’could take even if y’jus’ learn t’skate a little,” he shrugged.

That tug in her chest felt an awful lot like Harry worming his way into the center of her universe. But she didn’t want to do that again. Not really. She didn’t want to dote on Harry the way she did only for it to backfire on her. She still had a lot of time, but she felt behind. Kael made it so she didn’t have tons of money. She ‘didn’t have to worry about it’ because he made plenty. But it wasn’t about money. It was about her independence and now she felt like she literally paid the price. “I got y’some socks too,” Harry added.

Goddammit.

She was going to fall in love with him.

--

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[cherry-cola-on-ice]

Slashers with a sleepwalking s/o

AN: totally based off my personal experiences sleepwalking lol asked my friends and family what their favorite sleepwalking episode was.

Jason Voorhees 🏕

Jason is already paranoid AF about you unknowingly wandering into a trap during the day.

But the first time he comes across you in the woods at night? When you should be asleep?

He is not a happy man. Many thoughts run through his mind. Are you trying to leave him? Trying to get yourself hurt? Would you rather die then be with him?

It takes him a good while and a lot of explaining for him to understand what's happening. That your not intentionally doing this. Science shit™️

He sets up a system. Maybe a bell or two. Something loud to let him know where you are. Maybe some trip wires.

Strangest thing he's seen you do: He watched you eat a entire sleeve of saltines while standing in the shower.

Michael Myers 🎃

Michael's seen some shit. So this is nothing. All those years in Smiths Grove have prepared him for this. So you sleepwalk? Cool, his neighbor at Smiths Grove used to eat cockroachs.

That being said, the closer you're relationship grows, the more worried he becomes. What if you fall down the stairs? What if you wander into the road? What if, what if, what if??

He doesn't have the foresight to set up traps, like Jason does.

Uses his fucked up sleep schedule to his advantage and often stands over your sleeping body. Jumpscare.

Will definitely tie a bell on you while you sleep. Totally not a collar what are you saying? Don't make it kinky.

The strangest thing he's seen you do: Put all of the remotes in the refrigerator because they needed batteries.

Thomas Hewitt 🥩

Poor sweet man. You're going to give him a heart attack one of these days.

However, he's probably one of the more better prepared of the lot. His house is set up to keep people in and out. So there isn't much danger you can get into.

Unless he forgets to lock up the basement. Which has happened once. And only once. You were fairly unharmed if not a little traumatized.

Has taken to locking your bedroom door. Also installs like 10 latches. AND puts a bell on the doorknob. And maybe sometimes you.

Look, he's already scared of losing you to somebody else, he doesn't want to have to worry him losing you to you.

Strangest thing he's seen you do: Him, Monty and Hoyt sat and watched you stand in front of the sink for a hour and a half. Just standing there. Menacingly

Brahms Heelshire 🐀

Oh, poor baby is confused. Especially at the start of your situation-ship. You don't know he's there, you just think you're babysitting a doll for a sad old couple. Not their grown ass son who lives in the walls.

The first time Brahms finds you sleepwalking, he's pissed. You trying to leave him, he knows you are. But... did you just snore?? Wait, you're asleep. He feels a little better about the situation.

Until you start walking towards the stairs. Boy's never moved so fast in his life. He knows if he wakes you up it's game over. So he gives you a gentle nudge back to your room.

Now after you find about the rat man in the walls, things are different. Brahms, even in the deepest REM cycle, will never let you go. Man is a koala and you are the tree he's clinging to for dear life. It's almost impossible to escape his arms at night.

Almost makes you sleep in the walls instead of the bedroom so you're safer. Like ain't no way you're getting out of those without him waking up.

Strangest thing he's seen you do: Sat up in bed, complaining about the maracas in your mouth??? He cried.

Billy Lenz 🎄

World's worst caretaker 👑

Especially before yall start dating because, at that point in time, he's still trying to decide if he wants to kill you. He won't lie, he very briefly thought about pushing you down the stairs.

But? After you win him over? Yeah still kinda sucks ass at keeping you from hurting yourself. He'll keep you alive, mind you, just a little worse for wear.

He asked you once if he could tie you down in bed. You didn't like the look in his eyes so you declined. Billy pouted for the next three days.

TBH he might do it anyways. Look he's just trying to keep your silly little self safe, S/O. Get your mind out of the gutter. Haha, jk...unless 😏?

The strangest thing he's seen you do is eat a entire bag of gummy bears while standing outside. He joined you.

Vincent Sinclair 🖌

Another prepared king 👑

His workshop is dangerous. Upstairs is dangerous. The whole town is health code violation. And bby cannot stand the idea of you hurting yourself.

But other then the constant anxiety that you'll some how end up falling off the stairs or falling into the wax or the any other number of things his brain comes up with, he's very level-headed.

Child safety locks. He buys that shit in bulk.

But hey, gives him a excuse to hold you at night. (Vincent, they're literally your s/o)

The strangest thing he's seen you do is stand over Bo's bed, chanting tomato. Bo almost cried.

Bo Sinclair 🔧

Definition of "Look at that idiot...oh wait that's my idiot!"

Honestly, probably the worst. Not like 'let's you just walk around' worst, but more like 'Imma gonna chain you to the bed' worst.

Dude's so scared of losing you, pretty much the best thing that ever happened to him, that his willing to go to drastic matters to keep you safe.

Don't try to explain the science behind it, you'll only give him a migraine. Just let him keep you safe. K, bby?

Bo's gonna lose sleep some nights, he's that scared. No doubt you will wake up to the feeling of someone watching you. Just comfort him, ok?

Strangest thing he's seen you do is sit up in bed and start singing 'Livin La Vida Loca'

Asa Emory 🪲

Number one prepared king™️

I'm not saying he may or may not, kinda sorta perhaps placed cameras around your living situation before you two even began dating. But yeah he did.

So he knows all about the crazy shenanigans you are up to at night.

He reads the books, watching online lectures 👏all����the👏research. You can bet your sweet ass he knows exactly how to wake you up in case of emergency.

In the same breath, despite how much he does love you, science. Prepare to be studied like a bug under a microscope.

Strangest thing he's seen you do is standing with the refrigerator doors open, telling him how much you love this show.

Norman Bates 🚿

My poor sweet innocent murder bby. He doesn't know what to do.

Yeah, keep you safe, he's got that much down. But at what cost?

The hotel looks like a a daycare center now. Baby proofing everywhere (ask him about getting locked out of the bathroom, it's funny)

Suggested a collar once as a joke, wasn't expecting you to agree. Got flustered. Dropped his cup, maybe got a bone.

Another koala sleeper, so good luck escaping his embrace. Will go as far as following you to the bathroom to make sure you're actually awake.

Strangest thing he's seen you do is sit down in a fake potted plant in the living room and talk about dinosaurs.

[cryinggirlnamedhelen]

i see the light.

ft; nagi seishiro, michael kaiser, isagi yoichi

synopsis: the moment when it was only you and him in the world.

nagi seishiro

the sound of persistent hums of the heater and tappings of thumbs to screens on nagi’s phone soothed you.

due to the harsh and frankly unexpected winter, the power had went out in the school dorms. you had been horrified; it was dark out, you couldn’t even see in your dorm, and you were alone. if only you still lived with your parents like reo instead of deciding to live in the crappy school dorms because you wanted to be more mature.

when you thought of reo, that’s when a brilliant idea had wove its way into your mind. you could just go to nagi’s dorm instead! he’s too much of a pacifist to get angry at you, he lived close, and he’s got a nice heater too. you had silently crept out of your room and into nagi’s room, knowing that he thought that it was too much of a hassle to lock the door.

now you were lying down next to nagi’s figure, who was sitting up and clicking away at the buttons on his phone from the game. nagi was quiet; he could tell that you were cold and tired, and he didn’t feel the need to bother you any further. plus, it would be a hassle to.

well, that was until nagi heard the soft snores.

“hey, hey.” nagi placed his phone face down next to him, leaning down to look at you. locks of your hair was in your face, a small line of drool at the corner of your lips. “you’re asleep? hey. it’s too much of a hassle to move you away. and there’s only one bed.”

at your lack of response, nagi poked your arm. no reponse. he your cheek. still no response. nagi eventually decided to stop and just pull an all nighter; the leaks of the sequel to his favorite game was coming out tonight anyways.

nagi looked at you for a little longer, his eyes lingering at your face before zeroing in at your lips. “you’re not that bad when you’re asleep.” nagi mumbled. his eyes softened; he didn’t mind this. sure, it was a hassle for someone else to sleep in his bed, but this was you. and for some strange reason, nagi’s chest felt all warm and tight. he didn’t understand this, but the feeling was addicting, and he wanted more.

the lights and power may have been out, but the light that you beamed was enough to light up his entire world.

michael kaiser

kaiser knows that having been put in jail at age 15 definitely necessarily scream “im such a good influence and good person!” to most people.

most people.

kaiser knows that you’re not most people when he is let out of jail—due to the efforts of ray dark—and you’re right outside sprinting towards him and tackling him with a bear hug. sobs escaping you as you squeezed him. “mihya! god, you’re back! i was so worried for you in there!”

kaiser was in love with you. when you laughed, warmth pooled at his stomach and happiness filled his veins. but when you cried, kaiser felt the need to kill whatever is making you cry, to make you smile again. but kaiser didn’t know that it was love. he didn’t know that what he was seeking had been in you, his childhood best friend, all along.

“you…you’re here. why? i was in jail.” kaiser muttered. “shouldn’t you be in school or something? you shouldn’t be here.” at that, your jaw dropped, and you stepped back, hands gripping his shoulders.

“mihya! what are you saying? i could care less about day or two of school when my literal best friend is in jail for something that he didn’t even do! you worried me to death, mihya!” your eyebrows knit together, looking up at him. kaiser noticed how pale you were, the dark eyebags under your beautiful eyes as if you haven’t slept in days.

suddenly, kaiser felt as if a weight heavier than his father was on his shoulders. you didn’t sleep because of him. you looked so pale because of him. you were upset because of him. kaiser felt doubts cloud his mind again; at the end of the day, he really was no different from his father. “just because im your best friend? that’s stupid. im not worth that much.”

your eyes widened before they narrowed, and you grasped onto his shoulder tightly. kaiser knew this would leave a mark later, although he could care less. you should leave. you shouldn’t be here. you should be at school. you shouldn’t waste your life on a piece of shit like him. you deserve better than a fucked up subhuman like him. you glared at him, your hands trembling from how tightly your grip was on his shoulder. from that alone, kaiser knew that he fucked up.

“michael fucking kaiser, you’re my best friend and the love of my life, and you better not say that again. you are worth it. you are most definitely worth each and every moment of my time. you hear me?!” you shook kaiser back and forth. but kaiser couldn’t focus on your current actions, a phrase that you had called him of all people was tattooed onto his mind.

love of your life.

he was the love of your life.

and suddenly, kaiser wasn’t subhuman. he wasn’t a piece of shit. he wasn’t an accident. he wasn’t hated by everyone. he wasn’t weak. he wasn’t not worth it.

he was loved. loved by you.

and kaiser will be grateful for that even in the afterlife.

isagi yoichi

blue lock had changed isagi.

at least, that was what everyone said. his parents, his classmates, his former soccer teammates, his friends, even isagi himself. but not you. you didn’t say that or think that. blue lock didn’t change isagi, it had instead just awakened something hidden inside of isagi.

that might be why your reaction to isagi’s goal at the end of the blue lock fetuses u20 japan match was so underwhelming. you were his lover; you should have been more enthusiastic about it. instead, you only stared down mindlessly before smiling and clapping. isagi had looked up at you with a smile when he was celebrating with his blue lock teammates, in which you had waved at.

then came the 2 week break.

you had been on a walk with isagi like old times, before he had left for blue lock. a heavy silence was over your shoulders; isagi himself thinks that he’s changed, after all. the sunset painted your’s and isagi’s cheeks bright red.

“do you mind that i’ve changed?” isagi finally stammered out. he braced himself for some harsh answers and disapproving shaking of heads, but was instead met with more long silence before a single word.

“no.”

he glanced at you, shocked. “i don’t think you’ve changed at all, yoichi. im glad. i don’t think i’ve ever seen you this happy to be playing soccer.” you looked up at him, a soft smile playing at your lips. “it just awakened something inside of you.”

but isagi wasn’t satisfied. not yet. “you don’t mind that im practically throwing my life away for my soccer career? i won’t be able to just call or text you whenever i want to at blue lock, you know.” you giggled gently before sighing.

“i know you can’t, yoichi. but you’re happy, right? and you’re living your best life right now. so who am i to interfere? as long as you’re happy, then you can be whatever or whoever you want to be. i’ll always be there.”

at your words, the ice in your tension melted before isagi looked at you once again. even without the golden setting sun, you still looked like you were an angel, glowing with the most ethereal of purity and the most precious of love.

a/n: title is obviously from the tangled song. i literally love that song so much oh my god.

[imraespace]

―UNWANTED SURPRISE

SYNOPSIS: you've known your boyfriend for quite some time and he's made it quite clear that he hate surprises, but you just can't do it this year.

note: i was seraching up abt kaiser bc i dont really write for him and his ideal partner is a loving one so!! HE GETS A LOVING PARTNER.

genre: fluff, comfort heheh

Your alarm went off.

A grumble and groan left your mouth as you sluggishly moved to grab your phone. Once your finger finally found it, the phone, now in your hand became silent as your squint at your screen.

4:30 AM

You turned off your phone, letting it rest on your chest as your head turned to face the male beside you, resting soundly.

For once, he had a calm expression on his face. His chest rises with every soft snores that leaves his lips. As a habit, your fingers made it's way up to his face, caressing his cheeks as your attention focused on him.

But, your have something planned before hand. With one last caress, you planted a soft kiss on his forehead and carefully, made your escape out of the bed.

Quietly, you made it out of the bedroom and into the living room.

.

.

Stretching off the drowsy feeling, You grabbed his gift, well one of it. The other one isn't that far, you just gave it to one of your close friend just to make it easier. Said friend made a promise to drop it off!

So right now, you're focusing on breakfast! It's a really simple honestly, bacon, eggs and toast but with the toast, you cut off the sides, using it to make bread crust rusk. The sugary kind.

The smell that took over the kitchen made you hungry, but you refuse to eat anything without him here. As time slowly passed, breakfast was done and just on time, your doorbell rang!

Excitedly, you made it to the door and every bounce in your actions, you opened the door and was greeted with the gift. The dog pounced on you, licking at your face.

You hugged it closely, as your friend bid you goodbye.

The dog in your hand is a familiar one to both you and Michael. Every morning, leaving the house a certain dog always greets you both. Micheal took a liking to the dog so in your opinion, it was the perfect gift for him.

Making it back into the living room, you let the dog down as it began running around, making his surroundings familiar. You sighed, yet a smile on your face as your eyes followed the dog.

Now, the second gift makes sense. It was dog toys and dog food. You sat on the floor, watching the dog run away. Your cheeks hurt from smiling as your watch him, finally it calmed down and run up to you.

Your hand rested ontop of his head, paws on your chest.

Though, he started barking, filling the silence which wasn't a problem but you have a sleeping person inside..

"SHH or something.."

In response all you got was more noise..

A thought came to mind, the toys. You got the bag but the dog grabbed it out your hand and all the toys fell out.

"Oh.." You muttered as the dog ran to bite the closest toy, which was a squeaky one. Therefore more noise!

In the end you just let the dog do whatever, but you forbid it to fo near the tree. Decoration wise, it made you feel more close to the holiday. The memories of planning and decorating with him made your cheeks warm.

Though, footsteps broke you out of your daydream as a question was asked.

"What's happening?"

Your eyes made it's way onto the sleepy male who's trying to make sense of the random noises.

The dog, dropping the toy, and looked in the direction of a familiar voice. He barked and ran up to Michael.

"What.. Why is the dog here?" Micheal asked, watching as the dog gripped on his pj pants.

In response, you stared up at him, smile on your face as a hint of what you've been up to. His face dropped a bit, it didn't bother you one bit.

He stared down at the dog, of course he's happy that the stray dog he meets every morning was healthy and loved in his own home but.. how is he supposed to react?

He slowly made his way on the couch infront of you and just sat down, shoving his face in his palms. It was quiet, minus the occasional barks from the dog that doesn't know what's happening, waiting for Michael to interact with him.

You got up from the floor and made your way right beside him. You plopped yourself right next to him and simply rested your hand on his back, gently rubbing his back.

The silence spoke for itself, but you took it upon yourself to fill it.

"I know you hate surprises but I think you deserve a gift."

.

.

You climbed up on tye couch, got behind him and gave him a back hug, resting your cheek in his hair.

"Because I love you, happy birthday.. and merry Christmas."

IMRAESPACE || MASTERLIST

[simpingland]

Hi hello how are ya I'd like to request something

Can you write something with Ewan Mitchell and his co star (fem pronounce) where they're at an interview and goofing off, reader joking about getting sleep while they're putting on wigs for hours and stuff like that, maybe a little more serious talk about their characters

(Readers character is jaces twin and aemonds love interest)

Thank you!

Flirting and sleeping// Ewan Michael x fem!actress.

Summary: playing Aemond's love interest have the perks of giving you a flirty partner during promotion and a comfortable shoulder to sleep on set.

Gif not mine

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The last interview of the day, after a whole week of promotion. Always the same questions, always the same answers. Keeping your outfit spotless for a whole day, with your make-up intact and hours of sleep accumulated.

"How is it possible that you are always sleepy?" Your colleague Ewan asked you when he saw you yawning.

"I'm a very reflective person, the night inspires me" you joked, and watched as he shook his head, smiling.

"These things feel like an eternity," he complained.

You were about to agree with him when the new interviewer sat down opposite. She greeted you, and Ewan, as always, was a gentleman, serious and attentive.

You, however, found it hard to pay as much attention. You glanced sideways at Ewan's every gesture, and he seemed to make a great effort to listen. After all this time you had learned to read his expression of feigned listening as well as his real one.

"After so many serious scenes, I suppose you keep your spirits up between scenes...are you bored on set or are you too busy?" The girl looked at the two of you.

"I tend to stay focused. Getting into Aemond's mind is quite complicated..." Ewan's tone amused you. He turned to look at you. "What?"

You let out a laugh, the interviewer looking confused at the scene.

"Sorry honey," you turned to the girl, "but Ewan is lying to you. He was concentrating at the beginning, when he took his job very seriously."

You watched as Ewan leaned back in his chair, hiding a smile and waiting for you to tease him, which he quite enjoyed.

"This guy was scary on the first day."

"It's thanks to the costume and make-up team," he interrupted.

"Oh, no, Ewan, I mean the day of the script reading. That sweatshirt was terrifying." What you said made the interviewer laugh, and Ewan joined in the fake discussion you had formed.

"You speak out of envy," he replied, crossing his legs.

"For this kind of thing, he's very formal. They always put together nice outfits for him, but in real life, it's nothing like that. "

"And what's Ewan like in real life?" Ewan himself asked.

"He's weird... weird and kind of flirty."

He turned red, shaking his head as the interviewer let you speak. You were basically getting more information out for her than she intended to get.

"Yeah, yeah...there's nothing shy about this guy here. He makes all the girls on the set smile with his 'good morning, love'. And they all love to put him his wig in the morning, his patch..."

"Why don't you let the girl do the interview?" Your partner interrupted you with mock seriousness.

"Excuse me, but I'm answering the question. Ewan was very focused at first. No one dared speak to him once he put on that wonderful costume. But as soon as Susan in make-up told him he looked 'sexy'..." you snapped your fingers. "He became a sex symbol on set and enjoys it like nobody's business. He doesn't get bored on set because he spends the hours between scenes practising with his sword, chatting with the crew when he goes to get his coffee..."

"You should tell her how you spend your breaks..." he grinned mischievously. You looked at him, hiding a smile. You mostly spent them with him, but people didn't need to know that.

"You tell her."

"She spends her dead hours asleep or breaking things." The interviewer let out another laugh. "Oh, yes, she's snored through her make-up. I've had to put up with her nodding her head every morning. And the few times she was awake, she would steal my wig to take pictures. Remember what Susan said to you when she caught you?" she looked at you as if to scold you, and you looked ashamed.

"That I was going to mess it up..."

"Exactly! This girl is a mess on legs. The first day of shooting, she tore the fabric of her cape. The first day we shot together, she almost broke the carriage window... and the wine glass. Let's not forget the wine glass on the last day."

"I dented it," you confessed to the girl.

"The whole team was praying you'd fall asleep before you touched any more stuff." Continued your partner looking back at you.

"I've had the broken stuff deducted from my pay, you know."

"Yeah? And how much money have you earned then?"

"Let's just say...I've gone into debt to HBO..."

You laughed at your own joke as Ewan tried to refocus on the poor interviewer. You really had been the clumsiest person on set, and that was in stark contrast to the careful attitude Ewan had had in that same period. Many times, you had led him astray, getting him involved in a game where you both could let off steam while the sets were being set up. He loved to show you his swordsmanship, and of course, he was good at it. He had experience.

But on some other days, when it was anynof your turns to act, Ewan was much more focused, and although you were embarrassed to entertain him at first, he always made a point of sitting next to you. He helped you revise as much as you helped him. And while your gallery was filled with pictures of you making an idiot of yourself with his wig, and Ewan making an idiot of himself with his wig too, Ewan had his gallery filled with pictures of you asleep in the most unlikely places on the set, and pictures of you posing with whatever mess you had made. And Tom had been in charge of recording those occasions when you slept leaning on Ewan's shoulder while he reread his script. That would stay between you two, and you'd been going through the photos before bed for months, unaware that Ewan was doing exactly the same thing, grateful to have an excuse like promotion to be near you all the time.

"The relationship between your characters has been a much-discussed topic on the network and among fans. The girl changed the subject to a more serious one, to the one that really mattered, the series.

"You mean incest?" you asked.

"More like the feud between Blacks and Greens."

"Oh, right..."

"That's the thing with this series," Ewan interrupted. "The incest is the least of your worries."

"Right, silly me," you said wryly.

"It's common sense, of course."

You smiled at each other, admiring each other fondly, perhaps too fondly, as you always did, leaving the girl a bit of an outsider, and were surprised when she asked again.

"The good thing is that you don't look like each other. The relationship you have in the plot is a parallel to Romeo and Juliet. How do you approach this dynamic? Do you want it to be really romantic or something toxic like Rhaenyra and Daemon?"

"That I suppose can always be left to the audience's opinion," reasoned your partner. "For me there's certainly something romantic about it. Aemond is a character that transforms into something perverse but at the beginning he didn't seem to have such a strong quality. The writers wanted to make him that way, evolved. And I think her character is designed not to contrast but to show that there is something good in Aemond." You smiled downward as you listened to him, you had already talked about it during rehearsals. "When we did the casting, the director told me that they were looking for an actress with a sweet aura, well, so that ond couldn't naturally react violently towards her. They introduced me to this arse next to me and... you get a bit attached to her.

"I love working with Ewan, he's always so flattering..."

The girl smiled at you before asking.

"You're okay with the romance?"

"Well..." you thought for a second. Of course, the kiss you two had just rolled around was too passionate for it to be a toxic relationship. You shot the kiss as a very intimate scene, where Aemond approached your character with some fear, and it took you a moment to return the kiss. It was a slow kiss, tense and sweet. But when you return it, it was hard to separate again. Of course, what was left to shoot that day was done with flushed cheeks and dodging glances. Sparks had been flying between you and Ewan since the day you were brought together in that room for the test.

"Yes, I think it's different from Rhaenyra and Daemon. There's a lot more respect and a lot more equality between them. From the very beginning, we were going to treat our plot from the 'first love' trope, and we saw no better way to recite our lines than the longing and desire they have for each other. And how much Ewan and I love each other transcends the screen too much."

You saw how intensely he looked at you, maybe you had said too much. You were silent for too many seconds. You put on that mischievous grin again. "As much as Ewan is a great actor, I don't think anyone can pretend to hate me."

"Wow, that means the next season is going to be very promising for your fans. Thank you so much for this time, and for the tidbits from the set."

"It's been a pleasure, honey," you dismissed her.

"Our pleasure, I love your t-shirt, by the way," said Ewan, the girl was wearing a t-shirt with a poster of Daemon and Aemond on it.

You didn't know how to look at him after that. Had your answer been something of a confession? Maybe the kiss hadn't been that intense for him and you had just made a fool of yourself. Of course it was a bit weird the last ten minutes of your promo day.

You shared a taxi to the hotel, with silly small talk. When you arrived, you were walking up a flight of stairs when your heel broke.

"Oh my God, I can't believe it! My stylist is going to kill me!" You picked up your precious heels, Ewan didn't laugh at you, but he did smile at your desperation.

"Don't worry, we'll ask someone to get us some glue."

"A branded heel fixed with glue?"

"Well, it certainly wasn't made of steel, if it breaks easy it's easy to fix."

You walked all the way up the stairs barefoot. Ewan stopped.

"What are you doing?" You asked as you saw him stand back and pull out his mobile phone.

"Smile and show that heel," he asked. When you did he took the picture and smiled to himself. "For the collection. "

"Thanks to your tip-off they won't get me for period films, you know."

"You started it, I remind you. You've taken away my reputation as a serious, up-and-coming actor."

Ewan grabbed your heels from your hand as he saw you with your hands full with your mobile and wallet.

"The truth is, that poor girl was trying to be professional and we got into a play fight in front of her."

"I think she had fun. Of course, after always answering the same thing, this time I remembered why I like this job so much."

"I hope I didn't offend you, Ewan. You know it was all a joke."

You stopped at his door, yours was just opposite.

"All of it, all of it?"

"What do you mean?"

He licked his lips, thinking about how to phrase the question. You knew what he meant, now came the awkward part. Why the hell did you start talking about love?

"All the weeks since I've known you have been filled with something...special. And you were right when you said that I can't pretend to be repulsed by you, because... I definitely feel the opposite. I like every minute that you are beside me, not only for how talented you are but...how sweet and funny everything is with you. You're also quite gorgeous if I am allawed to say. And no, it's nothing of a method actor if I tell you that I have a crush on your bones just because Aemond would be... I want to make sure this feeling isn't just mine."

"You're telling me you like me?"

"Yeah, basically yes."

"And you're asking me if I like you?" You were clearly in shock.

"It's good to know you understand me...now I need an answer."

Yes, OF COURSE YOU DO. For some reason nothing came out of your mouth, and you could only look at him. Ewan read that silence as a definitive no and, after swallowing his breath, he nodded and gave up without losing his gallantry.

"I'm going to call room service and have them bring some glue."

He turned to open his door as you suddenly became aware of everything. You didn't know what he was babbling about when he opened it, but when he turned again to offer you passage, you jumped on him. You grabbed his face with impetus, and kissed his thin lips again as you had that day on the set. This time there was something even more authentic. Ewan held your waist as he regained his balance. This kiss surpassed the one in the scene, this one felt completely free, completely real and without consequence. Needless to say, you didn't go back to sleep in your room for the rest of the promo tour.

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Happily Ever After

Summary: After losing the reader, Dean’s moved on with his life and made a home for himself with his new family so he’s more than surprised when he finds her in his house one night...

Pairing: Dean x reader

Word Count: 1,200ish

Warnings: language, mention of death

A/N: Enjoy!

____

“Hey,” you said, Dean freezing from where he stood in the kitchen. He turned around slowly, a formula bottle in one hand, a rag over his shoulder. “Been a hot minute. You uh, you look good. I like the beard.”

“Thanks. You’re dead,” he said. He dropped the bottle on the counter, grabbing a knife from the butcher block. You held up your hands, Dean over and on top of you, pushing you back against the wall. “Do not move.”

He sliced your arm and pulled you over to a cabinet, taking out a spray bottle and dousing your arm. He stared at you when nothing happened and suddenly he was picking you up into a squeezing hug. You laughed and he set you down, giving you a kiss.

“Daddy, Emily is crying,” said a little girl around four years old as she entered the kitchen. You both turned, Dean giving her a smile. 

“Okay, Piper,” said Dean. “Let’s get you back in bed.”

“Is that Y/N?” she asked as she looked at you. “I thought Daddy said you died.”

“Oh, no. You must have been confused,” said Dean, looking over to you when you heard a cry upstairs. “Y/N was away working was all. I’ll be right back.”

“So, you’re Piper?” you asked, the girl nodding and fixing her beer under her arm. “It’s pretty late. You want to head to bed?”

“You should hug daddy. He missed you,” she said.

“As soon as you’re in bed and Emily is taken care of, that is exactly what I’m gonna do,” you said.

“Okay. You carry me up?” she asked. You smiled and bent down, settling her on your hip. She put her head on your shoulder and was out like a light. You walked up the stairs, Dean rocking a baby in his arms in the hallway. He nodded towards a room and you put Piper to bed in it, Dean bouncing the baby gently back into the room across the hall. 

“She’s adorable,” you whispered.

“Want to hold her?” asked Dean, already putting her in your arms. She cooed and popped open and eye at you, quickly lolling her head back and snoring quietly. “Oh she’s smitten with you.”

You stared and he showed you how to put her down without waking her, Dean guiding you back down the hall and into a master bedroom.

“You really did it, went through with the adoption,” you said.

“It was our plan. I really wanted to be alone and miserable you know. I stayed at the bunker for a while,” he said. “Sam and Eileen were great. I just...I wanted you back but I promised I wouldn’t do something stupid so I didn’t. So I got angry and upset for a while. Drove around, wanted to get drunk, wanted to forget. Couldn’t do it though. I just kept hearing, you’re not supposed to drink when you’re upset. Your voice was in my head. Eventually, the pain faded some and I remember how we talked about a life after hunting. I went in looking for a baby when I found the girls.”

“Why’d you pick them?” you asked, sitting down on the bed.

“Parents died in a fire. Piper ran in and yelled at me that I couldn’t take her sister away from her. I could relate,” he chuckled. You patted the bed and he sat beside you, turning his head. “How are you here?”

“I woke up in a box and fell down to the floor. I didn’t take you for the fancy mausoleum type,” you said.

“I wanted someplace I could go talk to you,” he said. “Did you ever...hear anything when I was there?”

“I think so. It feels like a memory I can’t grab though. It’s like, I died at that cemetery and then I woke up. Everything’s okay down here, right?”

“As far as I know,” he said. “You just woke up out of the blue?”

“Yeah. I thought maybe you did something. I went to the bunker and then I came straight here,” you said.

“Sweetheart, I wanted to, I did. But I didn’t do this,” he said.

“I did,” said a voice out of the blue. You jumped and saw Adam, narrowing your eyes. “Michael at the moment.”

“You mean the dick,” you said.

“Once again, that was the other Michael that was a dick to you,” he sighed.

“You’re still a dick,” you mumbled.

“This dick just brought you back to life so you could say thanks,” he said.

“Why would you do that?” asked Dean.

“Because I’m a sweetheart underneath it all,” said Michael. Dean rolled his eyes and Michael shrugged. “Your kids are gonna be important. They need a mother.”

“I thought the world was safe,” you said.

“It is. Your daughters are going to be involved in something...global, is all. It’s important that they have two parents as the grow. They’ll be important to society.”

“If you hurt my kids, I swear-” said Dean, Michael holding up a hand.

“You gotta learn to look on the bright side, buddy. Not everything is bad,” said Michael. “If you want to handle it on your own, I can take her back.”

“No!” you both said, Michael nodding.

“That’s what I thought. Nothing nefarious so scooch along,” said Michael before he disappeared.

“What’s going to happen you think?” you asked. 

“No idea,” said Dean. “It doesn’t sound like it’ll be bad. Maybe they’ll do something good?”

“I sure hope so,” you said. “Either way I’m glad I’m back.”

“Me too. Can I get you anything?” he asked, a soft smile playing on his lips.

“Can I take a shower? I feel gross,” you said.

“Of course. Right in there,” he said, pointing at a door.

“Do you want to join me? Not like that, just…” you said. He stood and guided you into the bathroom, flicking on the light. “Dean Winchester. Who knew you had some interior designer in you.”

“I know you wanted a bathroom like this. Wait til you see the house in the day. It’s what we always talked about.”

“I can’t wait, Winchester.”

“Me either, Winchester.”

Twenty minutes later you were curled up in the bed wearing Dean’s shirt, Dean tucked in close. You smiled and shut your eyes, Dean grabbing on a little hard before letting out a quiet breath.

“Not going anywhere, Dean,” you said.

“You promise?”

“I promise, Dean.”

“Sure you still want me?”

“I love you, you idiot. Yeah, I still want you.”

“Good,” he chuckled. “Sweetheart?”

“Yeah?”

“Love you,” he said, kissing your cheek.

“Love you too, De.”

_____

[illusioninfnty]

the shape comes home ↠ day 27 ; cuckolding

↠ michael myers x reader

fandom: halloween word count: 1.2k warnings: nsfw 18+, dubcon, forced exhibitionism, slight fingering, no prep, unprotected sex, creampie, reader gets the ick, murder (not of reader)

kinktober m.list || read on ao3

When you told your boyfriend that you thought that Michael Myers had been stalking you for the past week or so, he laughed in your face and called you crazy.

But you knew you weren’t crazy, despite what he told you. You saw the man everywhere you went—his shape so clearly defined that you knew you couldn’t be dreaming him up. 

He followed you to your college classes, to the supermarket, and even when you went back to your hometown for a weekend to see if you could get away. But no, wherever you went, Michael followed.

When you tried to describe in detail to your boyfriend all of this, telling him the specific places that you saw Michael at, and how no one else seemed to notice him.

He brushed you off, and told you that you needed to up your meds.

Now, you lay in bed with him. You haven’t been able to sleep the past few days because of Michael following you. Your boyfriend doesn’t have a care in the world, his arm strewn sloppily across your body as he snores away. Every sound that comes out of his mouth pisses you off more than the next.

Until you turn to face away from him, and towards your door. But you still can’t close your eyes, because of what you can make out with the glimpses of moonlight that peeks in through your cheap curtains.

The shape of Michael Myers was in your door frame.

He looks as he does every time you see him—imposing, looming, and all-consuming. He holds his knife clenched in a large fist. Oddly enough, he holds rope in his other hand. But there’s something else that’s different about him this time.

Michael stands in front of you, and there’s no hiding the erection in his coveralls. It stretches the fabric, and there’s no hiding how hard he is, even if he wanted to.

You know exactly why he’s here now. And you allow it all to happen. You stare ahead at Michael, and don’t make a sound. Not even in fear. Rather, you had a morbid curiosity (despite the inkling in the back of your mind) of what Michael was going to do.

He doesn’t approach you, though. He makes his way over to the other side of the bed, where your boyfriend sleeps, clueless to the danger that awaits him.

Michael grips your boyfriend by the back of his neck, pulls him out from under the covers, and throws his body across the room as if he weighed absolutely nothing. You hunker down under the comforter as your boyfriend wakes up, and starts screaming when he sees the Shape standing in front of him.

He calls out for help. He calls your name, and you can hear the tears in his voice. But you don’t do anything. You lay there and stare, peeking through your own cocoon. Michael ties him up, feet first and then his arms are behind his back, and soon he’s completely bound in a way where he’s unable to move and escape to alert someone.

Michael strides over to you, and you make no move to avoid him. He pulls the covers off of you. Your nightshirt is torn off your body, your breasts exposed to the cool air of the room, nipples pebbling from the sensation. Next come your sleep shorts and underwear, which Michael tears off with ease.

You lay there completely bare in front of Michael Myers, and your boyfriend is cursing through his sobs as he lay in the corner of the bedroom.

Michael sticks his fingers inside of you. Not for your pleasure though, but rather a sort of exploration for him. His fingers wiggle inside of you, curling in certain spots that have you jolting against his hand.

He removes his clothes, his hard cock on full display. It pulses as he approaches you, and without any sort of warning he takes his fingers out and replaces it with his cock.

Choked gasps leave your mouth through the sudden intrusion. You weren’t nearly anywhere close to ready for him, and the meaty size of Michael’s length doesn’t give you any sort of ease when adjusting.

He ruts in and out of you with vigor, his balls slapping against your pussy as he grabs onto your hips and thrusts.

You slap your hands against your mouth to try and conceal the moans of pain, and you’re positive that the liquid you feel along your walls as Michael’s cock moves in and out of you is blood.

Your back involuntarily arches as Michael’s hold lifts you off the bed, your head lolling backwards as his thrusts continue through your cries of protest.

As you turn your head to look at your boyfriend, you can’t help the wave of disgust that washes over you seeing him in the position he’s in. He looks pathetic and weak, and it just reminds you of all the times he made fun of you when you were freaking out over being followed, or whenever he chooses his video games over comforting you whenever you suffer from a panic attack.

It has you realizing that no, you don’t really feel sorry for him for where he’s at. Maybe if he actually listened to you for once he wouldn’t have ended up tied up on the floor, having to watch his girlfriend get fucked by the guy who’s most likely going to kill him once he’s done.

Once the guilt you felt over allowing yourself to be fucked by Michael in front of your boyfriend is lifted off your shoulders, it’s like all the pleasure you refused to feel kicks in at once.

Michael’s cock fills you up completely, more than your boyfriend’s ever did. Through the stinging sensation inside you, you focus on the way Michael pounds into you with so much force you can barely think straight. It has you close to your orgasm, something your boyfriend has never been able to accomplish in all the years you’ve been together.

“Fuck you!” Your boyfriend cries out from his corner. His yells are silenced by your load moans as Michael fucks himself into you. “What the fuck,” comes his response to it in a whisper.

“Michael! I’m cumming! Oh God, I’m cumming!”

Strangled cries come from your boyfriend as he attempts to free himself from the rope. “You fucking sicko!”

You weren’t sure if he was referring to you or Michael.

With one last shuddering groan, you cum around Michael’s cock, clenching your walls tightly around him. You spasm with the pleasure that takes over your body.

Michael’s orgasm comes only seconds after yours. He makes no sound as the warmth of his release fills you up inside, the excess liquids spilling onto your sheets below.

He drops you on the bed, and you let out an oof sound as you plop onto the plush mattress. You lift your head up in enough time to see Michael pick up his knife again, approach your sniveling boyfriend and stab him, over and over again, until his cries are silenced and his body is completely still.

And then just like all the other times before, Michael completely vanishes. The only trace of him is your boyfriend’s mutilated body draining of blood, leaking slowly just like the cum that spills out of you.

[thestarfishinjootsoffice]

I would like to request more slasher x reader whos on the period and is just emotionally exhausted and does a fall hug on them and sighs 😞

I actually looked up period aesthetic on Pinterest 🤦‍♀️ (didn't work, I had to instead looked up blood stain aesthetic)

Ps: why the fuck did I think it was a good idea to put blood stains pictures here, and also this might be the last post for this week and the next week, since my exams are only one week away I really need to start focusing on my studies. I love you all, byee :)

Slashers in this are: Michael myers, sinclair brothers, Jason, and lastly, Billy and stu

Warnings:

Relationship: romantic!!

Slashers with exhausted reader on her cycle!

Michael

Michael sat rested on the couch of your living room. Letting himself sink into the soft cushion. This day was particularly satisfactory by far... Except for one thing.

You were ignoring him. You've stayed in your room with food and a bunch of other stuff saying you were on your period, you've explained to him before and stuff. But that didn't give you the right to ignore him. What did he even do anyway?

Deciding thinking about why his s/o's mad at him on their period isn't his thing, he shuts his eyes and prepares to pass out.

The silence and the comfy atmosphere. Not too hot not too cold, slightly slouching to his side now that the drowsiness is getting to him. Until he hears the door open ,your door open. he quickly sits straight waiting for your figure to come into the living room.

Are you mad at him right now? Are you going to yell at him? Did he forget to do something?

He sees you enter the room and make eye contact with him for a few seconds, waiting for you to do Or say something. He becomes a bit alert when you start walking towards him, you don't seem to have a bit of aggression in your manner and you just seem... Tired.

flop!

Next thing he knows you're on top of him with your hands around his body. Sighing loudly you don't do anything and he starts hearing you softly snore.

Maybe just these few times you can physically get this close to him. He takes a few breaths before his eyelids start feeling heavy again and he starts to feel less and less energetic.

Subconsciously he puts his hand on your back as the two of you slumber into a deep sleep together.

Sinclair brothers

Bo's not really the best in verbal comfort but he sure is one hell of a good physical one. He sat on the couch reading a newspaper after a long day of being mean. Having a cup of coffee on the small table next to the couch you kinda wanted to laugh. Your overly aggressive boyfriend sitting so quietly and almost innocently on the couch on a Thursday morning is really a contradiction to his usual behaviour. But the inner exhaustion is making you dramatic. Walking over to him he notices you. "What?" He questioned, not a single sound of roughness in them. Hmm, maybe he really was in a good mood today. Taking this as your sign you grab his newspaper and then fall on him dramatically, not forgetting to hug him as you do so. Sighing as you feel the warmth of his body seeping into yours. "What do you think you're doing?" He asks a bit annoyed and a bit more confused. You place the paper on the arm rest on the couch and just continue to rest on him. Bo stays quiet for moments before he wraps his arms around your waist. "Well you could've just told me if you wanted a hug." He chuckles a bit. Let's just hope this isn't cut short.

Vincent Although can't really talk or comfort you verbally, is willing to do anything for you. Acts of service, physical touch, gift giving... Anything. Especially since you're on this painful and tiring process called "a period" He's on his bed reading a book he got from a traveller. Flipping through the pages he hears steps coming towards his room. He memorised your footsteps by now and closed his book but kept his fingers in between where he was reading. He saw you in his sight and tilted his head as to say "is there something you need?". You smiled a bit and went towards him and your body went softly crashing into his. Tightly hugging around his neck and you sigh because honestly hugging him was the most comforting thing ever. Vincent's a bit startled but rubs your back as he realises you're just tired. He kisses the top of your head through his wax mask and he starts blushing and grins when you turn to him and his cheek. He couldn't help but fall for this side of you every single time.

Lester was the best at any kind of affection. So anytime you felt the bit of sadness you immediately went to him. Today or during the cycle was no exception, trotting over to find your lovely dearest boyfriend you needed someone to lay all your love on right now. You finally saw him, Lester who was dropping by for a few days to accompany his brothers was on a couch with Vincent, it seemed they were silently discussing something. Probably they broke the wooden floor and were planning on how to tell Bo without angering him. (Impossible) besides all that, you just wanted to feel your lover's warmth around yours. Lester who noticed you after Vincent did, immediately lights up with a goofy smile. "Hey baby! How are you doing?" You instantly knew he was referring to your cycle, you gave a small smile on your tired face. You walked over to him with your arms extended and fell on him. "Woah!" He relaxes after a few seconds. He strokes your hair as you lay quietly on him. (Vincent third wheeled his way out of the room.)

Jason

It were a particularly quiet and peaceful few days camp crystal Lake. Which was a very good thing which meant a longer spending time with your undead boyfriend.

Especially since being on the flow meant more emotional draining. And although your boyfriend wasn't the warmest in body heat, he definitely was the warmest in showing you his love.

He was on a bed just resting because he didn't really have anything else to do. He didn't wanna bother you since you said you were on your period and didn't wanna risk you getting mad at him. (He would be extremely sulky.)

In his train of thoughts he hears footsteps creaking and immediately gets up, did a trespasser come into the cabins without him knowing? He grabs his machete that was on the ground and prepares for any sort of unfamiliar faces, he sees your face and sighs. He drops his machete as he realises he almost hit you with it.

You see him and stare at him for a few moments. He tilts his head and you start walking over to him and jump on him with your arms around his body.

He presses his mask against your head as you sigh. He couldn't express how much he loves you if he were honest. He strokes your head as he thinks so.

Billy n stu

You knew who to go to when you needed some physical affection. Having two people around you was more than enough.

You couldn't bother telling them about the problems and pains of your period since they're both lowkey air heads.. Just one of them is a bit smarter but definitely more sassy with a shit more attitude.

You slowly made your steps over to where you heard bickering, you saw the two of your boyfriends who you could see were talking about a horror movie most likely. You lazily walk to them, damn. They still don't notice you yet.

You decide to just fuck it and throw your body to where they were and Billy made a surprise grunting noise as Stu just yelped.

"Jesus! You fucking scared the shit out of us Y/n!" Billy exclaimed. Stu made a small "yeah!"

You just sighed tiredly. You wrapped your arms around both of them. "Well, we were just about to watch a movie. Wanna join us?" You just nodded as you felt them adjust themselves around your grip.

You relaxed after you felt Stu hug you tightly as Billy started going through the tapes with his legs around yours.

You were starting to relax until they started bickering again. Damn they couldn't shut up could they?

[shapard]

Feather of Fate 🕊️

Lucifer x Seraphim!fem!reader

Soulmate arc

Oh-

NSFW, MDNI

Lift Me Up

Chapter 5 < Chapter 6 > Chapter 7

This was the best sleep you ever had in your life. 

The bed felt warm and cozy, too comfortable to even move an inch. 

You in Lucifers Arms and Lucifer in yours.

You smelled the sweet caramel Apple and musk again and hearing a light snoring from Lucifer.

His wings were settled around you hugging him deeper into your chest, protectively.

He was scared that someone would take you away. His arm was resting on your waist and the tickling warm feeling settled in.

Your mind hummed in approval, and for the first time it was quiet. 

No thoughts in your mind, just you and him. 

Everything felt perfect. 

Fluttering your eyes open you searched for Lucifer. 

He was laying peaceful between your chest and grumbled into them. You laughed at the ticklish feeling from his breath. 

He snuggled deeper into one of your breasts, it stung a bit from the pressure but nothing you can’t handle.

This man loves tits, not caring if their small, medium, or large.

He just loves them. 

And yours were just so perfect and soft for him.

Hunger hit you like a punch in the face, your stomach grumbled and ached for food.

You haven’t eaten for days. 

Grumbling, you sat up letting Lucifer slide onto your lap. His hand is still holding your waist tight.

Rubbing the sleep out of your eyes to see properly you stroked his hair softly. 

His wings were capturing you in the bed, but you have to eat something. 

Shaking Lucifer softly to wake him up, to no success. “

Luci.” You Shaked him harder and he just cursed into your thigh, snuggling deeper into your lap. “Lucifer!” You screamed this time, he sprung up into defenses pose ready to protect his mate from the non-existing threat. 

You called out his name again, “Let’s eat something. I think we’re both Hungry.” 

Lucifers wings disappeared into his back and now he was facing you. 

You had shorts on from him and an oversized t-shirt he bought you once. 

Not again.

He started to blush at the sight. 

Your hair all a mess and the soft facial expression. He was amazed to say at least. 

Walking towards you, kind of hypnotized by your appearance.

He reached again out for your waist and pullled you closer to him. You let out a quiet gasp and he laughed it off.

“You’re so pretty.” His voice was all gruffed out from the long sleep he longed for and needed. 

You giggled when he prepped kisses all over your face down to your neck. 

When he reached the neck, he started to suck your flesh, you reward him with a low moan.

He pushed you back down on his bed, pressing his morning wood against your clothed heat. 

“So pretty.” He whispers into the crook of your neck. His breath is brushing against your sensitive neck.

Your womanhood started to burn with a wanting feeling.

A feeling of desire burned through your body, you felt like lava.

It clouded your mind.

To get some relief you rubbed your clit on his covered dick to get more friction, you want more.

The desire was too strong to ignore and Lucifer felt the same. 

You needed more of him. And he needed you as much as you needed him.

The room around you felt like a Sauna. No air to breathe, it was suffocating.

You two stopped abruptly.

His stomach now grumbled too because of its emptiness.

You halt.

Groaning he sat up, being disappointed at his body being his own cock-blocker.

You laughed at his disappointed facial expression. 

“Let’s get some food.”

_______

Lilith observed Michael's childish trotting around destroying his room.

It’s not the first time that Lilith saw him throwing a tantrum, but he never destroyed his own stuff. 

This was new.

“What made you Angry this time, Michael?” She raised her brows looking at the messed-up man in front of her.

Michael snapped at Lilith puling her hair to make her look in his eyes. 

“Your damn husband-” “Ex- Husband. We’re divorced.” Lilith quickly corrected him.

Michael slapped Lilith hard in the face, a bruise started to form. "Don't shush me slut."

She doesn’t want to be associated with Lucifer anymore. And most likely not from Michael.

Her eyes are half closed because of the sharp pain on her scalp.

"He's not my husband anymore, and never will be."

Michael rolled his eyes, “He’s in hell because of you. You made him give eve the forbidden apple in the first place.” Raising his eyebrow, remembering all the shit that happened when Lilith entered Lucifers life.

And he remembered how she came crawling to him, pleading to go back to heaven.

Just like she did when Lucifer gave eve the apple. 

Pleading him to let her part in history out. Even though she Influenced him, she doesn't want to look bad in front of God.

Slut.

Michael sat down on the couch, removing the glass shards that were spread all over it. He re-styled his hair and took a deep breath in.

“I want you to go down there.” Michael announced, now looking at Lilith. 

Lilith started to laugh nervously. “What do you mean, I’ll not go down there.” 

Michael mimicked her nervous laugh, a chain appeared around Lilith’s neck pushing her down towards Michael’s feet as he let her hair go. 

A golden paper puffed out with Lilith signature underneath the signature line. „You’ll go down there Miss ‘I don’t want to see my ex-Man’ You’re in heaven because of me and you’ll do as I say. You signed up for this.”

Lilith shivered scared that the crazy man in front of her will do more than just threating her. 

His voice was everywhere and nowhere, his eyes showing nothing but a blue icy glow. 

The air around them started to freeze.

He tapped on the golden paper to showcase Lilith that he owns her soul, and she can’t do anything about it.

He got her on the leash.

And no one will save her.

________

Lucifer and you ate in silent. 

Even though you both were all cozying up with each other, there was still a thick tension in the room.

You both avoided the elefant that was still in the room. 

With a sigh you laid the fork on the halfway eaten plate. “So,” you started to play with the napkin, “about Michael.” Lucifer visibly tensed when you mention his name. 

“Your older brother. He’s quiet, scary.” A clink from the fork colliding with the empty plate from Lucifer and you gave him your full attention. 

“Twin actually. Heh... we are twins...” 

He wiped the remaining food on his lips away with a napkin, “and he wasn’t always like that. But something changed, he changed. Jealousy can bring the worst out of people. And it consumed him. He always thought I got more than- Can we talk about this another day? I just want to spent time with you.” 

You agreed with him. 

Whatever Michael did to him was still hurting him.

It showed in the way he reacts, and how you felt in unease when you thought about him.

You continue to eat in the silence. 

Lucifer threw here and there a couple of jokes, but something was off. 

It annoyed Lucifer, he thought everything is going to be okay.

But when he’s looking at you, he saw that the guilt was still eating you alive. 

You were still worried about him.

“Are your wings healing?” You asked, showing how this all still affected you. 

Lucifer clapped his hands together, he’s had enough.

He doesn't need your sympathy, all he needs is you beside him.

 “Darling, I’m fine. Stop overworking your cute little brain over it. I’m Lucifer! The king of Hell, I can survive this.” He flexed his Biceps signaling you that he’s good in shape. 

But you can’t stop it. 

He still looked exhausted and tired, he’s skinnier than before and his face looked so empty. 

He was clearly still exhausted, and it was still your fault. 

“I know Luci, but you don’t look okay.” Pictures from the event yesterday flooded in your mind, how he laid there defeated and with no strength.

His wings almost naked with lesser feathers and the still present ones were started to lose its colors.

You know how an Angel looks with depression and with loss of a soulmate.

“I hurt you.” 

Lucifer gave you a worried look when you started to sniffle. The thought of you being the cause that he almost died was burning like acid in your heart.

He took your hand very gentle. 

His hand was so smooth, soft and cold like porcelain. But in yours his were warm.

You both intertwined your hands, and he squeezed your hand reassuring. 

His other hand went straight up to your cheek giving it a comforting stroke. “Y/n, yes indeed it hurt that you kept it from me. But I’m sure you have a good reason for it. We can work it out together, you’re not alone anymore, neither am I.” 

His eyes shifted down to where your hands intertwined, and he smiled softly. For the first time in his life, it seemed that someone cares about him. 

And he’s genuine happy. 

Sure, it still hurts, but you’re now with him. 

And he’ll hold on you tight. Till the day you both fall into dust. 

“My wings can heal. But I don’t know what would’ve happened if you didn’t survive this. Michael is always against me finding joy, his hatred towards me was always so harsh.

And I’m scared Y/n. 

As much I am happy that you’re with me, he has planned something to take you away from me. And I’m so terrified that you’ll die in my hands because of my recklessly act. 

So, believe me when I say to you that you’re forgiven.” He pressed his forehead softly against yours, closing his eyes to feel the warmth from you. He wiped your tears away. 

And the inner child in you broke. 

Lucifer never seems to not surprise you. 

Your crying filling the air, it was all the trauma that build up in you. 

You can’t really explain why you’re letting all your emotions out. 

Maybe it was his reassuring words that he’ll never leave you or that you trust him with your life. 

Or it was his comforting Aura that soses your soul granting you inner peace.

He understands you.

You helped him not only Yesterday.

You saved him from the void that ate him slowly up. The void that consumed every last drop of happiness, he had. 

He opened his eyes when your cries slowly calmed down. 

He kissed the last tear that poured down your face and stroked your lips gentle.

You looked him in his eyes, and you felt home, comforted. 

You where were you belong. 

He pecked your lips, and you closed your eyes to let yourself fall into him. 

Into this bliss. 

He bit on your lips, and you gasped on the light pain.

He used the opportunity to slip his split tongue into your mouth. 

You two started to make out heavily and he pulled you up to the table. Pushing the plates away from the two of you, so you have more space. 

The hand on your cheek moved towards your neck as he presses you further in.

He tasted like a sweet caramel apple, and you wanted more. 

You needed more. 

You both played with your tongues just to get more of that addicting taste.

The alluring squeeze in your heart and the desire crept in.

It was all so overwhelming, but in a good way. 

Lucifer spread your legs with his free hand. His body pressed between your thighs, stroking them softly. 

He felt high. 

High from the warmth of your body. 

High from this feeling. From this desire that made him throb.

You broke the kiss, breathing heavily. A saliva string connected the two of you. 

Lucifer went down to push the oversized T-shirt away, “can I?” 

You nod hesitant. 

You never done this before, of course you didn’t. 

You lived in heaven under your mother’s wings Sera. She wouldn’t allow you this kind of act before marriage.

The cold air hit your nipple making them harden from the coldness. 

Lucifer stopped a second, observing your breast. 

Intimidated by his stare you asked him what’s wrong. 

“They’re just so gorgeous.” He moans at the end.  

His hand travelled to one of your Tits massaging it. You moaned at the sudden sensation. 

Lucifer licked and then started to suck on the other nipple. His eyes remained on you when your head fell back from the pleasure. 

Who knew that this would feel so good, definitely not you. 

His smile widened at your reaction. Lucifers eyes were lidded, and his eyes showed nothing but lust for you. 

He stopped massaging your tit and went down to your covered clit giving it couple of strokes.

You gripped down at the table sheet, confused but also in the best feeling ever. You never knew your body was capable of this. 

“Oh my-“ how Lucifer was circling his fingers on your clit made you insane. 

His fingers sometimes entered your cunt, and you arched your back to get more of him.

Lucifer stopped sucking on your tit, you whined in protest. 

He kissed a trail of kisses down your chest and stomach stopping at your pussy. He kissed it softly and still looked into your eyes. 

“Look at me.” He pressed hard on your clit when you disobeyed him, earning a groan from you.

Opening your eyes, you looked down at Lucifer who was between your legs, kissing your inner thigh and sucking on them softly. 

You felt hot. 

Too hot. 

You were sweating but in a good way, you never want this to end. 

Lucifer was a sucker of your face right now. 

He wants to take a picture from those hovered eyes filled with lust and your hard breathing state. Your hair fell on your face and the way you looked at him was alluring. 

Ache. 

“Please.” You didn’t even know what you were pleading for, you were a talking mess pleading Lucifer to continue.

With a small laugh he ripped your panties open. 

All the sudden you felt insecure, you can’t explain why. You tried to close your legs, but Lucifer had other Ideas. He used his strength to spread your legs more open for him. 

And hell, your body was beautiful. 

The stretch marks on your body were so attractive to him. 

Giving your cunt a quick peck before he went all face in. His forked tongue explored your pussy so good and deep. 

Your hand flew to lucifers golden hair holding tight on it. 

He ate you out so good, you were a moaning mess.

“Fuck-“ He treated you so good, way too good. 

You gasp when he hit that spot. You almost screamed his name, “found it.” His forked tongue moved with elegant on your g-spot.

A knot starts to build in your lower area, and you began to panic. 

But Lucifer didn’t stop. 

Not with the way you looked at him. 

His red eyes were burning deep in a scarlet like color. He can’t wait to see you break on his cock; he’ll probably fuck you dumb. 

You were already a mess with his tongue deep down in your tasteful pussy. 

He groans into it you, letting out a couple of curses. 

You called out his name with a slight shiver, “Lu- ah- Stop.” You feel something will come, as if you’re about to pee. But Lucifer didn’t stop. 

With a couple of strokes on your clit and him eating you out. You released with a loud moan with his name. 

You came hard. 

This pleasure you never felt before, and you were high from it. Your tight warm hole clenched around him, and he sucked all of your cum. 

And God it was addicting. 

After couple pf moments he stood up licking his finger, “You’re so delicious” he moaned when he licked your cum off of his finger. 

He wants to fuck his dick deep inside you, but he decided against it.

It wasn’t rocketing science that you never done this before. 

Hearing light snoring he looked surprised at your messed up figure. You laid there in all your grace tired out from your recent act. He laughed at you and started to clean you up. 

…

Meanwhile in the Hotel a certain someone was making a mess. 

Charlie looked nervous and surprised that her mother is standing in front of them with a deep frown. 

“Mom?!”

A/n: I've never written smut before so I hope this was good-✋🏽💀

And what are your thoughts?❤️

💫

@ayanazoldyck @marydragneell @lunaryasha @cherry-cola-100 @lxkeee @latersgaters-steven @fandom-crashlanding @cupidsgift @steadyconnoisseurnacho @crimsonflameproxy @stormz369 @wooleypeaches @fukingsad @starlitvenus @avadakadabra93 @itzabbeym

[haddonfieldwhore]

seasons - michael myers

michael myers x gn!reader

summary: living in the myers house throughout the year

note: this is something out of my comfort zone, but i was inspired by the incredible @visceravalentines and a work she did in a vignette style <3

warnings: smut, mentions of death & blood

word count: 1.6k

winter

the myers house is always cold. no radiator or wool blankets can fight off the draft that rushes in through the gap where the windows don’t close flush with the frame. the wind whistles past the glass that’s coated in a layer of frost; the front walk ices over and the garden fills with snow. the floors creak louder in the winter months. michael rarely eats, but when it gets really cold, you can get him to drink a cup of black coffee, your legs over his lap on the couch as you try to defend yourself from the cold air with a layer of blankets. he is always warm.

you yearn for a shred of his body heat on the nights he doesn’t come up to bed, finding yourself alone more often than not. on nights he does actually come upstairs to sleep, he swallows his pride and lets your snuggle into his chest. anything to stop the teeth chattering.

•

it’s by far the coldest night of the year. no amount of clothing or blankets can warm the chill that runs through you. it’s in your bones and it doesn’t want to let go. michael hears the squeak of the faucet on the claw foot tub upstairs from the kitchen as he searches for you. his footsteps echo up the stairs, and the bathroom door creaks open as you sink into the water. you look up at him expectantly, arms wrapped around yourself in the bath. he unzips his stained coveralls and steps out of his boots. once his clothes are gone, he walks over and sinks into tub behind you. the soapy water overflows the edge of the porcelain, spilling onto the tile floor, but you don’t care. you lean back into him, and look to the side to see him drop his mask on the floor stop his clothes. you don’t turn to look at his face, instead closing your eyes and tucking your face into the crook of his neck. he is warm. and for the first time in months, you are too.

spring

the porch of the once clean white house sinks about half in inch each april, when the rain seeps into the not yet green grass. the wood is rotten underneath. the left hand railing wobbles on its post if you put any weight on it. flowers no longer grow in the soil of the garden; there is too much death in the earth. water creeps through cracks in the dated foundation, pooling on the floor of the basement and staining the concrete.

his boots track mud into the house, the rug on the front step might as well be for decoration only. you’ve asked him to wipe his feet before coming inside, but he either forgets after listening the first time, or simply doesn’t care.

the wind blows the branches of the trees against the side of the bedroom window, casting claw like shadows across the pale yellowed wallpaper.

you sit up with a start as your heart pounds against your ribcage, likes its screaming to get out. your eyes adjust as the unsettling shadow creeps in through the night. it’s frightening, but it’s familiar.

besides, the man sleeping next to you is far more frightening than anything that dare try to snatch you in the night. you lay closer to him and let his deep snores drown out the rattling of the trees. your monster will keep the other monsters away.

•

the roof leaks in the kitchen. decades of water have faded the colour of the tiles where the floor dips and the water collects. sometimes you step in the puddle in the middle of the night, dampening your socks, when you stumble through the house in the dark to grab a glass of water. the fridge light is burnt out. you forget to change it for days.

spring is the season of new life, but instead the myers house is haunted by death. decay. the wallpaper peels. the ceiling leaks.

but it’s home.

summer

heat surrounds the old house, and all its inhabitants feel it. the pitcher of iced tea on the kitchen counter is sweating, a drop of condensation rolling down the side to gather around the base of it. two glasses sit next to the jug; one used. one untouched. despite the heat outside, there remains a permanent chill inside the house. it’s there year round. unrelenting.

haddonfield isn’t usually this hot, and the heat wave has you considering venturing into the cellar. michael spends a lot of his time down there, but you dare not follow him. as are all things with michael, the unspoken rule is that is his space. his alone. sometimes he is down there for days, his side of the bed empty when you go to sleep and the same when you wake up.

the window box air conditioner rattles against the cracked wood frame. a few mosquitoes lay bleached and lifeless atop it. the sheer curtains do little to block the sunlight from slipping through. tiny dust particles float through the air in the beams.

the sun sets late, and you’re nearly asleep on the couch as you’re finally able to breath the air around you, the house no longer suffocated by the summer heat. your eyes feel heavy, but you fight to stay awake as you hear heavy footsteps up the basement steps. the third step from the top creaks. he doesn’t sit with you. he just watches you from the kitchen doorway. you know he’s there. he knows you know.

•

his teeth sting against your sunburnt skin as he bites into your shoulder, his mask pulled up to expose his mouth. rarely do his lips meet yours. his teeth are far more familiar. you welcome them. he knows when you can’t take anymore, and relents, satisfied with the mess he’s made of you; disheveled beneath him. the room is silent now that the bedframe has finished thumping against the wall. you can faintly hear a frog croaking somewhere outside, likely under the porch in the overgrown grass. your legs like jelly, michael pulls you into his side by your arm. it’s the closest thing to affection he can show you. you wrap your arms around him and hope he doesn’t push you away. he doesn’t. it’s the closest to happy he’s felt in a long time.

fall

something changes in the air in haddonfield as soon as the first leaf falls. they know something awakens soon. something in him. people walk faster on the sidewalk in front of the house. they keep their heads down. they cross the street.

the house smells of pumpkin as you curl up in bed, a candle on your nightstand. the flame casts a soft glow throughout the room, the same orange as the leaves that flutter to the ground outside. the bed is empty next to you. you see him less in the fall, as he spends more time in the cellar.

you don’t know what he does down there. sometimes you wonder if he truly does nothing.

you don’t ask. he wouldn’t tell anyway. truthfully. you don’t care. if he is there, he is safe. the town is safe from him. you don’t have to worry.

•

you hear his name in whispers and in the wind all throughout the town. as october 31st approaches, people don’t stay out as late. there’s less people on the streets and in the stores. but they’ll still all be out on halloween. there is a line between the fear and the reward, and they dance along it.

it’s october 30th. you haven’t seen michael in 3 days. you hear his footsteps and the third from the top stair creaking when he comes up to get the food you’ve left out for him, so you know he is still here. for now he is still here.

you hear more footsteps that night, as he ascends the second flight of stairs and his heavy boots shuffle into the bedroom. the door hinges squeak, and you turn your head. the wind whips the tree branch against the window again. but he’s here. you’re safe.

michael kicks his boots off as the bed dips next to you and he lays down. something is different. his scarred hand reaches out for you, and you set your book down, blowing out the candle with a puff of air. before you know it he’s pulled you on top of him. he’s still in control,you’d be a fool to believe otherwise. he guides the rise and fall of your hips as his nails leave crescent shaped bruises in your flesh. you’ll cherish them until they fade.

he thrusts into you like it’s the last time, and you wonder silently if this might be a goodbye.

you fall asleep in his arms. he’s gone when you wake up.

•

he’s gone for four days, but to you it feels like four years. the marks he left on your body have faded; you wish they hadn’t, checking for them each time you get dressed. the only glimpse of him you see is on the news, and by the second day you wonder if he is dead. no one seems to know.

this year was worse than last year. more bodies - more blood. the house is colder without him, and it feels like it’s swallowing you like a sinkhole. you consider going to the cellar, though you know he isn’t there. the third step from the top creaks as your foot lands on it and you change your mind. you don’t consider it again.

he returns on the fifth day, bruised and covered in dark blood. your wonder how much, if any, of it is his. he washes it off before you can find out.

like nothing happened, he is next to you in bed again. like nothing happened, he lets you cling to his body, but he holds you a little tighter than usual. he missed you too.

you hum contently. you’re home. but it’s not the house. it’s him. and it always has been.

[celestialsequels]

stupid cupid keeps on calling me, but i see lovin’ in his eyes ¡! ❞

— synopsis: jimin takes you on a museum date.

— warnings: fluffy, a couple of kisses here and there, jimin and y/n being complete losers for each other.

— w/c: 1.7k

— part 1

a/n: guess who’s back from hiatus. thank you for being so supportive and considerate over the last few weeks as i was gone. this one is for you guys and i hope you guys enjoy it !

•

after being interrogated by yeonjun, you rushed home as fast as you could. every part of you jittered in utter excitement. the evening glow had began to radiate off of you ever so slightly as you thought back to the events that took place earlier—the way her lips felt on yours, the way she gazed into your eyes as if you were the last person on earth.

yeah, you were so done for.

your steps seemed to have their own rhythm as you walked home, all drowned in your thoughts. everything around you seemed so much happier. the people around you felt like they were more in love than ever. the murals painted on the buildings you walked past felt as if they were speaking to you. hell, even nature blushed when you smiled. you finally reached home and entered through the backdoor, since it always seemed to be open. you quickly took your shoes off, almost stumbling onto your cat, flipflop, as you made your way inside. you threw everything onto the ground and headed upstairs to your room to get dressed for your date.

hangers? on the ground. accessories? on the ground. your entire wardrobe? on the goddamn ground.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“jun, nothing looks good on me. i’m starting to think this date was a bust,” you pouted as yeonjun did nothing but laugh at you.

“maybe try that outfit you always say you’ll wear but never actually end up wearing,” he suggested when he sensed you had been silent for too long.

you ushered yourself to your pile of clothing that remained still on the ground for the past hour, simply hoping that something would begin to look appealing. suddenly, an idea popped into your head and you just knew this was going to be the outfit of a lifetime—okay, you were exaggerating, but at this point, it was better than nothing. yeonjun simply stared at you pacing around the room in what seemed like excitement but was, in fact, insanity. he had never seen you so eager yet so anxious about meeting a person; this was definitely something out of the ordinary. it made his heart swell with joy, finally seeing you so happy after so many years.

“you know, y/nnie, i’m really happy to see you all happy and chirpy after so many years. i never thought i’d see the day,” yeonjun spoke softly as you admired yourself in the mirror with a fond smile.

“jun…she truly makes me so happy. my worries seem lighter than a feather when she looks into my eyes. my soul feels lighter when she places her lips on mine. she makes me feel whole. god, i sound like a sap,” you chuckled at your own words as you realized that this girl was all you wanted.

“you are a sap, little shit–”,

before he could let out another word, you threw your half-eaten, almost-rotting pudding cup in his face.

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it was nearly seven-thirty, and you only seemed to be getting more and more anxious. you started to ponder at what the future held for the two of you, thinking about nights when you two wouldn’t be able to sleep, so you’d spend it in the kitchen together, or when life might get a bit rough, and you’d find comfort within each others’ arms. the thought of living together made you blush a little harder than you would like to admit. the sudden ring of the door bell jolted you out of your thoughts, practically making you jump in front of the mirror to check if you looked perfect—and that you did, just oh so perfect. yeonjun’s snores seemed to emphasize as you made your way out of the room, not before kicking him in the shin as you ran to the front door.

“You—,”

his words zoned out as your blood rushing through your veins was the only thing you could pay attention to. you propped yourself in front of the door, giving yourself military-grade advice, but who were you kidding? not even a defibrillator could put your heart at ease. you peeked through the peephole of the door to make sure it was jimin. opening the door, and there she was. her hair flew in the crisp evening wind like the finest hazelnut spread. her eyes bore into yours as you finally opened the door after what felt like an eternity. a distinct silence fell between the two of you as your hearts soared with passion. the music playing from your ipod playing in the distance had you wanting to grab her hand and pull her as close to you as possible.

“pack it up, you two, i’ve gotta get in my beauty sleep,” yeonjun spoke up from behind you, scaring you two in the process.

“uh huh, okay,” you eyed him suspiciously since you knew damn well he wasn’t the type to sleep this early but chose not to say anything else.

“take good care of her jimin otherwise…” he threatened playfully while leaning against the wall.

“okay, hobbit,” jimin reached for your hand and pulled you out the door with her before giggling at her own joke.

adorable, you thought.

you two ran before you could hear him yell out anymore curses. soon, you heard the door shut and you two stopped running. Your entire body turned red as you realized you were gripping onto her hand for dear life. the crickets chirped from the nature surrounding you two. a calm yet fervent tension settled between you like an expecting nebula.

“you look so pretty tonight,” she broke the silence, mentally cursing herself for sounding like a loser.

“and you look all mine tonight,” your boldness surprising the two of you as the both of you turned into a giggling mess. of course, you two were losers in love, but you were each others’ losers, and that’s all that mattered.

after about half an hour of walking and flirting, you two finally reached the art museum. solace taking over you two as you floated in your little microcosm full of love. the lights shone down upon the entrance, colors displayed all over like an orchestra. mellow music could be heard from the speakers as you dragged jimin to the progress of love: the meeting. the viridian of the painting speaking directly to you while your eyes traced down the two lovers that sat patiently. jimin didn’t say a word given that you were so invested into the artwork, so she just let you tug her around the entirety of the museum. her eyes outlined your face whenever your eyes filled with sparks of interest at whatever you were looking at. her heartbeat intensified whenever you reached for her hand so she could pay attention to what you were saying.

“jimin, look, it's the lovers by rené magritte. i had to work on it for art class; it was fascinating—”

before you could say more, she eagerly pulled you in by the nape and placed her soft and succulent lips onto yours. all air was knocked out of your lungs as you still hadn’t gotten used to her lips being on yours, moving ever so fervently while her hands remained on your nape, gently playing with your hair. the lights in the museum suddenly dimmed, and the cold temperature of the room hastily became warmer. jimin’s fingers hovered across your arm, causing goosebumps to form all over your body. a few flower petals began to fall all around the room as you slowly pulled out of the kiss only to find jimin cheesing at you.

candles lit up right on time as she put her hand out for you to hold so she could show you exactly what she had in store for you. every part of you was radiated happiness. the entire museum fell into a soothing silence as jimin walked you outside into the garden. the entire garden was decorated with candles, with petals creating a walkway to the picnic she had prepared for you.

“jimin...is this all for me?” you questioned in surprise as you had never been treated so gently.

“pretty girl, everything i do is for you,” she turned a few shades redder when she saw you looking at her with the most admirable gaze. you smiled to yourself, realizing in the moment that this was the love of your life, whether you wanted to admit it or not. out of the blue, a small note sitting on the blanket caught your eye, causing you to curiously go examine it.

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“hi y/nnie…

i left you a polaroid camera

because i knew you would forget it at home.

go make memories with your future wife

- love jun”

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“so, this is why yeonjun told me he was going to sleep early?” you chuckled in disbelief as you recalled back to how they were eyeing each other down earlier.

“mhm, i wasn’t gonna say anything but you know how he is,” jimin responded behind you.

“jiminie, i really want you to know how loved i felt with you tonight. i-i don’t think i’ve ever been treated so softly before. you’re my person and i want you to know that,” you admitted tearfully.

“baby, you’re my person too. i adore you too much to ever treat you wrong. i didn’t think you’d like the date this much, so i was slightly nervous,” she spoke to you, affectionately rubbing her thumb over your cheek.

“you are my favourite date,” you said before pressing your lips onto hers.

the lights of the museum had completely turned off, leaving you two all alone in the garden to make memories. candles swaying along with the zephyr of the night. the flowers serenading with the music that was once playing from your ipod at home.

you two were finally home.

stupid cupid keeps on calling me, but i see lovin’ in his eyes…

[miz-chase]

Remember how Temperance “monogamy is stupid” “marriage treats women as property” “heteronormativity is a harmful social construct” “it takes a village” Brennan got a house in the suburbs, had 1.5 kids, got married in a catholic ceremony, and generally got absorbed by Standard Tv Mom-Wife?

Good news, the writers of Bones have reached out and need us to write how this would have actually played out in queer non-standard ways. What actually happened?

My suggestions:

They don’t get married because their love is more than a state-recognized business partnership OR it is actually Brennan’s idea very early on, she makes a courthouse date last minute so they can get tax benefits. She does not wear a white dress, thank you very much.

Brennan keeps her apartment. She needs her alone time sometimes, and it’s hard for Booth to not take that personally. He’s the type to insist they sleep in the same bed even if he can’t sleep because she snores too much. It takes time to feel secure enough and recognize she’s not rejecting him when she needs to be alone. It makes times when they’re together that much more special.

Jared, Padme, Rus, Amy and the girls are way more present. It’s less a focus on the B&B household and more on the supportive network of everyone taking care of each other and each others kids. Same goes for Ange, Hodgins, and Michael-Vincent, who are always trading off whose house they’re staying at.

They take in foster kids, which is more important to both of them than needing to have a genetic connection. They both know what it’s like to need some love after being abandoned by their families. Maybe they even take in Jared’s kid, if things with him go south.

Parker’s gay. He comes out to Brennan first because he’s scared his dad is going to freak out, what with the whole Catholic thing. Brennan, who has no filter even on her good days, is confused and immediately outs Booth as being bisexual. Happy family ending where everyone gets a kinder sort of masculinity than the show allows.

When Brennan needs a break, or has moral scruples with how her own evidence is manipulated to incarcerate innocent people, she takes on projects that better suit her moral priorities. She joins efforts working on the American and Canadian boarding schools, the Magdalene Laundries and other similar mass burial sites. Booth is initially uncomfortable but then becomes emphatically supportive. The Church he believes in should never have done these things, so it’s his moral duty as a good Catholic to seek justice for those that the church wronged.

Similarly, Booth and some old buddies start asking some questions, poking and prodding the right people with the right kind of concerns. They end up putting together an effort to investigate American and ally war crimes in Afghanistan. Brennan is the perfect person to lead the research effort, and it’s excellent work for her students. Similar to the Church, I think Booth’s pride in the military can go hand-in-hand with trying to right it’s wrongs and hold it to a higher standard.

As far as the monogamy thing goes, I think it would be complicated to get there, but not impossible. It would take a long time for Booth to feel secure enough in their relationship to even consider it. I think it’s relatively easy for him to accept that Brennan and Angela have A Thing. I think, with some tweaks, there’s a future where, when Hannah comes through town, they all have fun together.

What else?? Please share your thoughts!!

[he-goes-down]

Hiiiiii!! I was wondering if you’d do a Axl x Reader fic we’re Axl is feeling down so he steals one of the readers plushies and cuddles with it until the reader finds him like that and then makes him feel better somehow then they like have happy, silly sex? Btw love your works sweetheart…💗💗💗

OMG THATS SO CUTE

ILY SO MUCH AAAAA

If you cringe from the silly things you have permission to slap me

Masterlist

Pairing: Axl Rose x reader

Human Nature

Warnings: fluff and smut, unprotected p in v, silly sex

Second person POV:

It had been a few weeks of you working busily, this meant you were in your little study at home 24/7, only coming out to eat and go to the bathroom, occasionally Axl would come in and bring you food and peck on the cheek. You would be so tired after work you’d sleep on the little couch in the room. Which Axl would also walk in and put a blanket over you, kissing your forehead. But then again some days you had interaction with him at all, like from you working as he was out of the house and sleeping when he got home, ect.

Though you hadn’t realised how hard not seeing you was affecting Axl.

He’d walk sometimes throughout the day, when you were on a call with your boss, into the lounge put on your favourite show, hoping you would show up and watch with him, although he did watch the full show anyway and record it for yo. He also walk into the bedroom and lie on your side of the bed, head on your pillow and smelling your scent that meant so much to him and made his heartbeat fast. Sometimes as-well as scrounging through your perfumes, dresses and makeup. Trying to relieve experiences of him watching you as you got dressed for something fancy, but always falling with the makeup and the dresses being a bit too small. Although you and him did have a few times where you put him inna dress and did his makeup. He wanted those times back.

You were finally done with half of your big project and your manager called to say that the rest if the team will do the next bit, meaning you could finally relax. Stretching as you got up from your chair with a big sigh, you head to the door of the study and opened it. Right now you needed a hug and some love. Searching for your boyfriend in the living room, not there, in the kitchen, not there. Heading to your guys bedroom, that you haven’t stepped into in ages. You saw your boyfriend laying on your side of the bed, cuddling one of your favourite stuffed toys. His eyes closed, his face implanted into the back of the plushie. Holding it like how he’d hold you when you slept and cuddled at night. Your heart sank seeing him miss you like this. You went over to the bed side and sat next to him, lightly snoring as you gripped the plushie tighter unconsciously. You began to softly rub his back and call for him. “Axl honey…” you said softly. Squeezing the plushie again as his brows knit, thinking that you were calling him in his dream. “Baby…” he whispered to himself in his sleep. “Ax.” You said shaking him lightly and kissing his cheek. “Hm?” He groaned as his eyes fluttered open. His heart nearly jumping out of his chest when he saw you. Throwing the plushie to god know where. You giggled at his embarrassed state. God you missed this man. He didn’t know what to say for a second but you just kissed him. He kissed back with desperation, taking you by the waist and pulling you to lie next to him. He broke the kiss and just held you close and tight to his chest. His chin placed on the top of your head. Squeezing his eyes shut, as he squeezed you. “I missed you so much.” He spoke and adding a joke saying “ I can’t believe you left me for 3 years to go fight off in the war.” You giggled at his response, he always did that even if you were gone grocery shopping for an hour. “ I missed you too.” You said softly. Both of you missed each others bodies, romantically. Missed cuddling, missed staring into each others eyes, kissing, holding hands. He began to leave pepper kisses all over your face. Making your giggle at the ticklish feeling, you felt his smile against your face as you laughed at his actions. “I missed this pretty face.” He said kissing your forehead. He took your leg making it hook around his waist and bringing you closer to him. If he could he would crawl under your skin and live there forever. He need to be in you.

You felt him becoming hard under you as he thought of another kind of being inside of you. You breathed in as you felt yourself blush and wetness beging to pool down there. He kissed you and then kissed your neck, nibbling on the skin. You laughed again at the ticklish feeling, this time it sending shocks through your body and you began to grind on Axl’s tent. He gasped at the action. Now his hand going to your hip, giving it a squeeze. “What’ you think you doing huh?” He smirked as he gave light chuckle. “Nothing…” you gave an innocent smile, “Mhm.” He playfully rolled his eyes and kissed you. Both of you closing your eyes as you faded into the now lustful kiss. Soon you were both undressing each-other. It’s the Axl Rose effect. You in only your under wear and him as-well. He unclasped your bra, breaking off from your kiss and putting your bra on his bare chest. “I think I need a bigger size. Don’t you?” He looked up at you after inspecting your bra. You chuckled, taking the bra from him and throwing it somewhere. He laughed as well and began to kiss you again. Axl’s hand moved from your back where your bra was to your hips and peeling off your panties off your legs. His fingers going back up your legs, his index and middle doing a walking man movement on your skin before he gripped your hips, and his thumb rubbed circles on your clit whilst he grinded his clothed hard dick on your pussy. Your wetness spilling over onto the fabric of his underwear. “Your boxers have a bit of a stain on it, I think you have to take them off.” You said smiling as you kissed each other. “I think so.” He responded and took of his now lightly soak underwear. His dick lightly slapping your wet cunt as it got off it’s restraints. You sighed at it and Axl took the queue to tease his tip on your folds. Purposely missing your soaking cunt as his tip moved up and down your pussy. You whined, wanting him in you already. “Ax, please.” You groaned, your back arching as your body ached for his dick. “Is this what you want?” He queried as his cock slowly entered your tight pussy. Your hands sprung to his back, clawing and scratching as he thrusted into you unprompted. He groaned, his hips bucking into you, “Fuck” his low curse rang through your ear as he thrusted into you more harshly. Making you moan his name, and with that praise he fucked you even harder.

“Axl- fuck-… cum- I’m gonna-“ you moaned loudly, sounding like a broken record as you came over his dick. Mumbling and sighing as he was still driving his dick in and out of you. His thrusts getting more uneven, as your orgasm made your pussy even tighter which made his dick begin to squeeze out an orgasm. “God baby- I’m gonna cum in you.” He groaned and panted lowly before he shot cum into your aching pussy. Sighing as he came down from his high. Pulling out and letting his cum spill out of you and onto the sheets. “Shit. How do we explain that to the dry cleaners.” He joked. Kissing you, always smiling against your lips, just happy to be next to again and joking around.

“Hey we should do this again sometime, give me your number.”

“Sorry, I got a boyfriend, his name is Axl Rose.” You stuck your tongue out at his remark.

Always time for jokes.

A/n: IDK HOW TO WRITE SILLY SMUT SORRY I TRIED, WELL NOT ENOUGH BUT HEY HO

[knavves]

˖ ࣪ ꒷ ONLY YOU, MY GIRL ꒦

꒰੭ featuring — michael kaiser.

synopsis : kaiser thinks you look so cute resting beside him, he can't help but stuff you full of his fingers.

wc: 1.2k ノ cw + tw: nsfw (18+). fem reader. somnophilia. groping. fingering. use of pet names. nipple play. unprotected sex. creampies. multiple orgasms.

his knuckle glides across your cheekbone, hand morphing to cup your cheek. the rays of sunlight that escape from the curtains perfectly illuminate the features he traces over with his thumb.

you're still sleeping, chest rising with even breaths and the occasional soft snores sounding from you. waking up to you sprawled out so prettily beside him every morning was a blessing in his eyes. everything about you is so captivating to him, you had such control over him even while you were in a deep slumber. his hand barely grazes your skin, drawing over the remnants from last night that were scattered all over your neck and collarbone.

he explores your body further, following the curve of your body and squeezing at the plush of your ass, parts of you he's roamed with his rough hands time and time again. touches that were seemingly pure quickly formed into something much more sinful as he moved lower.

slender fingers hook on either side of your panties, making quick work as he slipped off the fabric and carelessly tossed them to some corner of the room. they only served to hinder him anyway. he doesn't waste a second before the pad of his thumb is reaching over to press into your clit, rubbing soft circles onto the bud. his eyes scanned you for any reactions, a smirk tugging at the end of his lips seeing your body twitch at his ministrations.

the slick pooling in between your legs was increasing by the minute, your arousal coating him as he ran a finger over your folds. one of his fingers eases into your hole causing your sleeping body to jerk slightly at the intrusion, he gently shushes you and strokes the back of your head until your breathing relaxes again. he didn't want to rouse you just yet.

his teeth catch his bottom lip to bite back the groan that's bubbling in his chest watching your cunt greedily suck in a second one of his fingers. his cock is swelling in his pants at your soft whimpers as he pistons his fingers in and out of your cunt, uncaring of your juices cascading down the rose thorns etched into his pale skin. you grind your hips to meet each movement of his fingers, so desperate even though you were asleep.

"so needy.." he mutters but mostly to himself as you can't hear him anyway. loud squelching noises echo in his ears as he picks up the pace, fingers reaching places you could never yourself. you gasp as you near your high and your thighs tremble, threatening to trap his hand where its nestled between them. he doesn't let up, though, only pressing his palm into your sensitive bud, curling his fingers deep inside your sopping pussy.

your eyes flutter open when you gush all over his hand, the lingering effects of your slumber still weary on you as you focus your gaze on your lover. "michael?" you say almost breathlessly, tone drowsy which he lightly chuckles at.

"good morning, angel. look so beautiful." he whispers, deep blue orbs boring into you. you teasingly pout at him, "don't i always?" you quire as your arms slither around his neck, pulling him into a needy kiss. his hands find their way to your waist as smiles against your lips, muttering a quick 'of course'.

"gonna let me fuck this pussy, right? m gonna make you feel so good." he babbles, voice cracking slightly as he ruts his aching bulge against your thigh which he had been neglecting up until now. your head bobs up and down as you quickly nod, whimpering small 'yes's and 'please's. he's clumsy with the way he's fumbling with the waistband of his boxers, letting his cock spring out from it's constraints. he's almost painfully hard, tip flushed a dark red and oozing precum, begging to be buried inside you. he slings one of your legs to dangle around his waist, lining himself up with your eager hole, your simultaneous groans ringing through the room as he pushes his girth into you. he can't wait a moment longer before he's needily rocking his hips against yours. tears glaze over your eyes at the sharp sting through your lower half as he stretches you out, spasming and clenching around him as you struggle to adjust. "s too big.." you whimper but he only wipes away your tears. "you've taken me before, love, be my good girl, yeah?"

these moments with him were so rare. he hates spending time away from you. he's always so busy, only quick sessions before he was off, barely being able to bask in each other's presence in the morning. his teasing and playful persona is less prominent, he's unusually sweet and his words don't have that condescending undertone. he's soaking it all in, dreading when the time comes where he'll have to leave you again.

he grips the end of your shirt and hikes it up, allowing your breasts to spill out. big hands reaching up to knead the soft flesh, rolling your hardened bud in between his fingers. he can't help but to pinch your nipple, adoring the cute squeals that escaped your lips.

his pace is much different from his usual near animalistic thrusts accompanied with a bruising grip. he pulls out, leaving just the tip in before swiftly pushing all of his length back into you, stuffing you to the hilt. your mouth hangs open in a silent moan, the drag of his cock against your walls intoxicating. he's reaching so deep inside you. his cock repeatedly kissing your g-spot with each lazy thrust of his hips.

"feels good, yeah? squeezing me so tight." he grunts, slightly picking up his pace and rubbing figures onto your messy clit in efforts to push you over the edge before he did. it was embarrassing how quickly he could feel his high approaching, you just felt so good. squeezing his cock so tightly fuck he wish he could pound load after load into you but he knew his time was running thin.

"m close! fuck i'm gonna cum!" you're writhing, shaking with the intense sensation building up in your lower region. "go ahead, sweetheart, cum with me." he groans, grabbing hold of your chin to clash your lips together, tongues tangling and dancing with one another's. you clamp down on him, arching into his chest as you release all over his cock that's unrelenting inside you. "that's it, my sweet girl. i got you." the white ring forming around his length and your high pitched moans is enough to send him barreling over the edge, snapping his hips against yours once more before coating your walls with his cum.

the bed dips beside him as he pulls out from your spent cunt, flopping onto his back with his chest still heaving. strong arms pull you into his muscular chest, heart swelling when you giggle at the chaste kisses being littered all over your face. he shivers slightly when your nails rake and trace over the rose chiseled into his neck, "why don't you stay home today, michael?" you purr from where you're cuddled up into him.

"i guess i can make an exception. missed me so much, huh?" he teases, flashing you a chesire grin making you roll your eyes, but you know he's right. "yeah, yeah. i love you, michael." you whisper, barely audible from where your cheek is smooshed against the heated skin of his chest. the arm around your waist tightens as he swoops down to place a kiss to the crown of your head, muttering "i love you too."

it couldn't hurt to miss one day of practice, especially if it was for you.

© knavves : reposting, plagiarizing, modifying, and translating is NOT allowed.

[caffedrine]

Chevalier Michael - Things That Can Only be Done at Night - Event Summary

If you trust me to know what I'm doing, then we have both made a huge mistake. I cannot guarantee accuracy for this summary, or even grammatical correctness.

Please support Cybird and pick up this event when it makes it to the English Server

Late at night, Emma lies awake in Chevalier’s arms. Unfortunately, while he’s snoozing happily next to her, Emma has developed insomnia.  Chevalier wakes up and notes that Emma is still awake, and she apologizes for waking him up, blaming the wind. Chevalier tells her not to bother lying to him, and he knows that she hasn’t been able to sleep for the past few days.

Chevalier continues to hold Emma gently, and she likes how warm he is. Emma admits the truth, that while she knows that there’s nothing wrong, something in her is unsettled and anxious.

Chevalier tells her that she already has the answer. He pulls her closer and strokes her hair gently. He tells her that she doesn’t need to think about it, all she needs to do is let him pet her like this.

And it is very comforting. Soon, Emma feels herself relax and drifts off to sleep. When she next opens her eyes, the room is bright with morning sunlight.

And Chevalier is still sleeping next to her.

Emma appreciates Chevalier’s efforts, but she knows that she can't continue to rely on him to put her to sleep.

So of course Emma goes to someone else to ask for advice.

She join Yves and Licht for some tea and explains the situation to him. The two look apprehensive, and Yves has to clarify that Emma’s not bragging about her nighttime activities to them.

(While they’re happy for her and Chevalier, there are some things not even family wants to hear)

After clarifying that she really just wants to be able to sleep, Yves muses that she can try drinking something warm before she goes to sleep. Maybe not tea, but warm milk with honey and brandy. Maybe even try adding some jam? Yves made some earlier, and he smugly offers to let Emma have the remainder.

Licht notes that Yves often looks sleepy after lunch. While Yves protests, Emma admits that sometimes she also dozes off while reading documents after lunch.

Hmm, maybe that might have something to do with it? Yves asks if Emma has been a little too busy recently? Licht adds that he hasn’t been seeing her recently because the only time they run into her, she’s carrying around stacks of documents bigger than she is. Maybe she needs a vacation?

Later that night, Emma puts Yves’ advice to use – not the vacation part, but the warm beverage before bed part. The shot of brandy should only help, right?

Washing the drink down with a bite of cookie, she realizes that at some point Chevalier had joined her, and is staring at her. She apologizes for not noticing him and begins to prepare a pot of tea. While she does, Chevalier picks up a cookie. She thinks he’s going to eat it himself, but instead, he tries to feed her. When she protests, he argues that she can have just one more.

Well, with an argument like that, who could say no? Emma leans forward to eat it, but her heart skips a beat when she feels his fingers against her lips. Chevalier teases her, hoping that silly expression can relax before she goes to sleep. He kisses her lips, and her heart begins to race.

A few hours later, as Emma lies awake, she laments her misfortune of still suffering from insomnia.

Chevalier says her name. Emma tries to pretend that she’s asleep, even burying her face in his chest and fake snoring. Unfortunately, he doesn’t fall for her deception, and hugs her tight, stroking her head. He points out that if he does this, she can go to sleep. So, why is she hesitating.

Emma does like this feeling, but she can disturb his rest just to make him settle her. She feels his finger flick against her forehead, and he tells her not to think such unnecessary thoughts. This time, he starts gently patting her back.

Gradually, Emma sinks into peaceful slumber.

The next morning, Leon and Jin find her. They explain that Yves is worried about her and told them all about her medical details.

They blame Chevalier.

Emma quickly defends her man, point out that he’s been putting her to sleep every night. Which is more than they wanted to hear. That said, if they know, that means the brother who is most set on bothering Chevalier knows.

Be warned, Clavis is getting ready to interfere.

Later that night, Emma was following Jin’s suggestions and stretching really good before bed. And it feels nice, she never realized how tense her shoulders were. Maybe it has something to do with all those documents she’s been reviewing?

Suddenly she hears the distinct sound of someone snickering. A glance at the door reveals Chevalier, badly trying to suppress his laughter. He promises that he wasn’t just staring at her like a creep, he knocked first and everything. He asks if the stretching helped.

Maybe, at least, Emma wants to think that it helped. Which isn’t the confidence Chevalier was hoping to hear. Suddenly Chevalier tackles her to the bed before draping a blanket over her body. Sitting next to her, Chevalier begins to pat her head. Emma murmurs that she really was planning on going to Chevalier’s room after stretching, but soon the warmth and love of the person before her relaxes her. She threatens that she really will go to sleep soon.

Chevalier doesn’t mind.

The next morning, Emma wakes up alone in her own room. Chevalier probably returned to his own room after she fell asleep, and once again, she feels like a burden to Chevalier.

When she enters the foreign faction office, she finds a beaming Clavis waiting for her. 

He’s already heard everything and is here to solve her problems. A quick glance around finds the office otherwise empty, Chevalier somewhere else. Another glance shows a small vial in Clavis’ hand.

Seeing her suspicious look, Clavis complains that he hasn’t even said anything yet. Emma points out that his mischievous expression says enough.

How harsh! All Clavis wants to do is help her! He then chucks the vial at Emma who almost drops it.

Oh why oh why is Clavis using her to annoy Chevalier?

Chevalier also wonders this. Emma turns to find him behind her, holding the small vial that she swore was in her own hands just a minute before.

Clavis assure him that solving his beloved sister-in-law's problems is all that he wants. Annoying Chevalier is just a happy bonus. Really, Clavis can’t believe how much of a gentleman he is.

(Praise him)

Clavis frowns at Chevalier’s expression and asks if Chevalier is planning on adding on to Clavis’ already giant pile of work, like he always does to retaliate. He hurries past them to leave, but not before whispering in Emma’s ear that the vial is just something that will put her to sleep, nothing more. If she doesn’t want to be a burden then she should-

Clavis cuts himself off with a shout as Chevalier flicks his forehead. He complains that he’ll really have to get Emma to take the medicine otherwise this torture is not worth- Hey!

This time Clavis dodges Chevalier’s hand and runs off.

Chevalier examines the vial briefly before shrugging. It really does seem to be just a sleeping draught, he’ll leave it up to Emma whether or not she wants to take it.

Back to work; Chevalier and Emma are reviewing documents, and Emma explains that they pertain to an upcoming meeting. Chevalier reminds her that handling the meeting is Sariel’s job, but Emma feels uneasy if she does nothing.

Soon she’ll have a semi-public forum where she’ll present her ideas in front of the nobles and influential merchants of the town. Her revolutionary idea of a public library is getting some pushback, due to the fear of book prices dropping and anyone able to acquire free knowledge above their station, but this is important to her.

Chevalier reviews Emma’s documents and looks deep into her eyes. He tells her that he doesn’t see any problems with them.

Which is Chevalier’s way of deeply encouraging her.

Chevalier pointedly suggests that Emma might get some use out of Clavis’ medicine.

Oh, maybe she’s been a little stressed out? Maybe this is why she cannot sleep at night? Emma pockets the vial, and politely bows and leaves Chevalier’s study.

Later that night, Emma joins Chevalier in his room. He notes that Emma hasn’t taken the medicine, and Emma admits that she has finally figured out why she cannot sleep at night. She was running away from these problems because she convinced herself that as the next queen she shouldn’t feel anxious and tense.

Yep, Chevalier agrees. If she puts her mind to it, she will probably cure herself of insomnia immediately. But, since unlike him, Emma is not some uber-human, she’ll probably have to take the slower route. He has no doubts that she’ll eventually progress to the point that she won’t feel anxious about presenting her ideas.

Chevalier has no doubt that her plan to implement the library will be a success, and that her meeting in two days will go well. That’s why, instead of seeing her as a burden to carry, he’s just been helping her fall asleep.

Emma admits that she’s been enjoying these evenings. Drinking tea together, chatting in bed, and letting Chevalier dote on her while she drifts off, all are kind of nice.

But there’s one thing she doesn’t quite understand. What did Clavis mean by annoying Chevalier?

Chevalier admits that he feels the same way as she does, where nights like this aren’t so bad. He likes being needed and helping her to sleep, and would hate for these evenings to end so quickly.

Huh, all this time, Emma thought that she was a burden to Chevalier. It’s kind of nice to know that he’s also enjoying himself.

Two days later, after Emma is finished with her meeting, she asks Chevalier for his feedback. He notes that no one was able to raise any objections, so that should be enough to assure her that her plan will be a success.

Well, with the problem gone, Emma has no doubt that she will sleep soundly. But it would be nice if Chevalier occasionally helped put Emma to sleep.

Only occasionally? Will Emma be satisfied with that? Chevalier lightly grabs Emma’s chin and holds her so that he can look into her eyes. He flicks her forehead.

Later that night, Emma is reading in Chevalier’s room next to him. He notes that she still can’t seem to sleep, but Emma assures him that she’s fine, she’s just caught up in her book.

Suddenly Chevalier leans over and kisses her, his mouth blocking her sentence. He asks if she wants him to help lull her to sleep, making it clear that sleeping is the last thing on his mind. And just to think, he’s just come up with the perfect method to help put her to sleep, but if she doesn’t want his help . . .

Fine, she wants him. She wants him to fill her up with him to the point that she can’t think of anything else.

When Emma wakes up, sore and tired, it’s already morning. She greets Chevalier – or tries to – but he only grumbles that it’s too early to be alive and tells her to be quiet.

Well, it is her day off, so maybe it’s okay to sleep in just a little.