#I’m also scared of you knowing because I don’t want to hurt you anymore

[certhioidea]

.

[hobisexually]

long winded rant in the tags coming that’s partly about weight but in a very unfiltered sad way so if that triggers you do Not read on

[cherrysnax]

stress triggered chronic pain let’s goooo

[chuluoyi]

࿐ ࿔ 🕰️ 「 11:07 P.M 」

divorce scare apology fic🤞🏻 yes people, in the spirit of april 1, it’s gojo who is having dreams :)) and i promise you it’s straight up comfort fic~

a part of gojo's love entries

you’ve known something is bugging satoru as he hasn’t been teasing the heck out of you for these past three days.

and you were proven true when tonight, on your marital bed, he said—

“so… i’ve been thinking…” he started, seemingly deep in thought, playing with your hair. “oh, more like it’s because of this one bad dream…”

“what are you on about?” you raised an eyebrow. okay, you knew something was up with him, but him being a bit skittish made you a bit worried.

“umm, yeah. so, the other day i had this dream about us in tokyo district court—”

“district court—?”

“—getting a divorce, yeah.”

your eyes rounded, and satoru could feel himself almost regretting his words seeing your stunned expression, so he added a band-aid—

“no, it was just a dream! i’m not divorcing you, okay?!”

however, your expression had soured, as you looked down, visibly heartbroken. alarmed, satoru immediately pulled you to his chest.

“oh, ooh— there, there,” he soothed you, stroking your hair. “sweets, no. never. okay? i’m just telling you, just like what you did the other day.”

you had a dream of him cheating on you once, but this was wholly different.

“you’re the worst,” you accused, and despite yourself, you felt an ache in your chest. “how could such thought even cross your mind— that you dream about it?”

“if i can pick my dream… i’ll pick the memory from our honeymoon— precisely when i ripped your black and pink lingerie off and made you scream my name, you know that.”

you huffed, burying your face in his chest. “hmph. explain.”

satoru smiled, finding you so incredibly precious. silly wifey.

he proceeded as he pat your back. “nothing really, i’m still bitter too! no way in hell! but then i started thinking… what would you do in 0.001% chance of us being divorced?”

you pulled away, growling. “…so there’s still a chance—!”

“noooo! that’s statistically impossible! aren’t we having a late night talk? we’re always talking about imaginary scenarios at night, aren’t we?!”

what was the point of this? it was only upsetting you with each second.

“how could you ask me that?” you glared at him resentfully. “if we’re divorced, then—” you grabbed his hand and placed it on your belly. “what about baby? do you not want to see him anymore?”

and in that moment it seemed like he just realized it too as he sheepishly scratched his head, mouth gaping. “ah—”

his response caused your hormones to stir, and combined by your disbelief, you spitefully threw his hand away and turned to your side, refusing to face him.

“if you dare to divorce me, i’ll move out japan at a moment’s notice,” you spat out, crossing your arms. “i won’t let you see my baby— and i’ll put a restraining order on you too, just so you see.”

“whoa, wait—”

“or i can also jump from yasohachi bridge and then become a curse—i’ll haunt you to your dying days!”

“—?! you can’t do that!”

“oh, i can also remarry! i’ll marry ichiji so fast and by the time the baby is born, your kid will have his name instead!”

“ichi— hey! that’s insulting! i would’ve forgiven if it was nanami, but ichiji?!”

“shut up! you’re— you’re annoying!”

in hindsight, this wasn’t something you should get this much worked up for. satoru was obviously just being his dense self and you knew it, but somehow the thought of him suddenly not by your side anymore hurt you— and perhaps your unstable hormones played a part too.

. . . but then his strong arms wrapped around you in that instant, enveloping you in his warm and reassuring embrace from behind. “hey… sweets, don’t be mad…”

“…”

“if you do, baby will also be—”

“you are making us mad.”

“okay, okay.” satoru sighed, his right palm reaching out to caress your five-month baby bump, and his voice was tinted with slight regret as he replied, “sorry…”

you melted a bit, but still gave him the cold shoulder, showing how cross you were that he brought it up in the first place.

and both of you stayed that way for a while, and you started to get sleepy, until you heard him muttering—

“still… whatever you do,” his voice sounded strained, and it made you awake again. “even when i’m not here… you can’t get yourself hurt, alright?”

“what does that mean?” you finally turned towards him, your eyes shone with slight panic. “what do you mean with you not being here?”

“nothing, sweetheart.” satoru grinned, pinching your cheek. “just saying—since i’m away often, don’t do anything reckless, you can get hurt.”

“don’t put it as if you’re going to go some place far away.” you didn’t know what you were spouting now, but you were tired and just didn’t want to pursue this conversation any longer.

you bit your lip, not looking at him. “or… i’ll get sad.”

seeing you so vulnerable and open like this made satoru realize that as much as he needed you to stay sane, you also needed him. the clarity stirred something within him, causing warmth to rapidly spread in his chest.

and he felt soft. so soft for you. and he adored you, more than anyone else in this wretched world.

“aw, look at my baby girl.” your husband cradled you close to him with a wide grin, patting you soothingly, his heart fluttering. “how can i leave you be a single mother? i’m here, yeah? always.”

and you believed him. otherwise, you were willing to risk it all just to get him home, by your side.

you smushed your face into his chest, ignoring your burning face. “hmph, being a single mother isn’t that bad. i can still drain your wealth.”

“huh?! wait, you just said you’ll be sad without me!”

and you thought, being in his embrace is the most comforting place of all.

epilogue

“by the way, i just realized…” satoru fixed his frown on you accusingly in the next morning. “how is your taste in men so bad? why ichiji as your first pick?”

“uh,” you were at a loss of words, totally not expecting this discussion on a brand new morning. “because… he’s kind? he’s easiest to sway—”

“so you’re saying… you can seduce him easily?!”

“…sort of? but you’re right, i should go for nanami. he’s way good-looking. or his apprentice… what’s his name again? ino takuma—”

“nanami? ino?! wait a minute…! y-you’re my wife… but you’re also thinking about which man is easier to seduce and which is more attractive?!”

“uh— you’re the one asking first!”

“still! so you do think about them! about weaker, lesser men who are not me!”

“nanami is not—!”

“hoh?! so it’s nanami, huh!?”

“don’t you dare to start anything, gojo satoru,” you hissed. “you said my taste in men is bad. so that includes you too.”

“wha?!”

[uraveragelonelysapphic]

Lavender

Word Count: 3.3k

Summary: Nature had always been your life. How fitting that it could now cause your death.

Warnings: angst (with a happy ending!), mentions of vomiting and blood.

a/n: Hello hello! This is perhaps definitely ass, but I really wanted to write for these two because I'm hopelessly in love with them both. Please enjoy!

Hanahaki Disease 花吐き病 (Japanese) is a fictional disease in which the victim coughs up flower petals when they suffer from one-sided love. It ends when the beloved returns their feelings, or when the victim dies. It can be cured through surgical removal, but when the infection is removed, the victim's romantic feelings for their love also disappear.

The natural world had always brought you peace. The softness of the grass under your feet, the gentle breeze blowing against your skin, the tender feeling of a flower blooming by your hand. You were a green witch, after all.

That was what had driven your family away. You had been 12 when you first sprouted a lily from your hand. You were more curious than scared; you had always sensed there was something that separated you from the rest of your family. Something about the earth’s treasures had always called to you. 

But even at your young age, you knew who you were living with. Sharing your abilities was a recipe for disaster; a sure fire way to have you outcast from your family.

So you did your best to keep your powers a secret, honing them in private, away from the watchful eye of your parents.

When you were 20, the inevitable happened. You were meant to be collecting berries for dinner when you had spotted a Willow Tree. It was worse for wear; you could feel it pleading for help as you approached it with a soft smile.

“It’s alright,” you soothed the tree as you gently placed your palms against the soil where its roots rested, “You’ll be alright.”

You closed your eyes, focusing on strengthening the roots as green magic pulsed out from your hands, through the soil, and into the tree itself, which began to heal instantly.

The snapping of a twig broke you out from your trance, turning your head to see your mother fleeing the scene. Your heart dropped as you quickly stood, moving to follow her.

She was too fast. By the time you had returned to your cabin, everyone and everything was gone. Your entire family had left you.

You fell to your knees in the middle of what was once your home, tears rolling down your face as you stared at the ground. Numb, broken, grieving.

You don’t know how long you stayed in that spot. You didn’t eat, you didn’t sleep, you just sat, staring, longing.

It wasn’t until a cold hand lifted your chin that you realized you weren’t alone anymore.

“Hello, darling,” a voice said softly, and you locked eyes with one of the most beautiful women you had ever seen. Her brown eyes were intoxicating, drawing you in. You tilted your head at her in confusion and intrigue. Who was she? What was she doing here?

“You’ve been sat here for a week, darling. No food, no water, no sleep. You’ll kill yourself if you keep up like this,” she said as she looked at you curiously.

Your eyes widened in realization. Death. 

She shook her head at you gently, sensing your fear. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’m not taking you. It’s not your time,” she said, stroking your hair gently. 

“Thank you, Lady Death,” you stuttered out, in awe of her soft nature, directly contrasting the connotation of her very existence.

She smiled at you in response. “You can call me Rio, sweet girl.” 

There was a moment where you two merely looked at one another before she looked away, taking on a rather stern expression. “But I feel the need to tell you, sitting here and mourning your abandonment will only hurt you. It’s not your time. So don’t let it be. Get up, you’re coming with me.”

You stumble away from her in confusion. “I thought you weren’t taking me?”

She shook her head. “I’m not taking you to the afterlife. I am, however, taking you in. You’ll be staying with Agatha and I.”

You knew that name. You had read about it during your private studies.

“Agatha? Like…’The Witch Killer’ Agatha? That Agatha?” you asked cautiously.

Rio cackled, extending her hand to you.

You took it.

And so began the years you spent with Death and her lover, Agatha Harkness. The two women were vastly different to their reputations that had preceded them. Sure, they both had a fierceness to them. They had to, in order to survive their daily lives filled with corpses and taking souls.

But, with each other, they held such a softness. Rio often came back from a long day exhausted and drained. Death didn’t tend to be a fan favorite, and people made it evident, shouting at her and berating her as she escorted the souls of their loved ones to the afterlife. But Agatha greeted her at the door each evening with a hug, simply holding her for minutes on end, whispering sweet nothings in her ear as Rio visibly relaxed into her hold.

And Rio returned the favor, treating Agatha with a love full of tenderness and warmth. Comforting her after each nightmare, preventing her from overworking herself, giving her soft apology kisses after any arguments.

Before long, you knew almost everything about the pair. You learned about Agatha and her son, and his loss which nearly tore Agatha and Rio apart. How Agatha was only a ‘Witch Killer’ to keep Nicky alive as long as she could. How Rio held such anguish and guilt at having to take Nicky’s soul. How Agatha once held it against her but now loved her as fiercely as ever.

The two were made for each other, and though they welcomed you with a similar softness to that which they showed each other, you chalked it up to them taking pity on a girl who was abandoned by her family. You knew they could never love you like they loved each other.

But that didn’t stop you from falling for them. It happened subconsciously; you never meant for it to happen. But when your heart panged in longing at seeing Agatha and Rio curled up in each other’s arms in the living room, you knew it had happened. It panged even further as you looked down, noticing a red carnation that had bloomed in your palm against your will.

You were determined to ignore it. Surely you could enjoy their presence without focusing on the way your stomach flipped when Rio smiled at you, or how your heart seemed to triple in size whenever Agatha would stroke your hair in affectionate greeting. But what you had to do became evident one morning.

“We’re headed out for a bit, doll,” Agatha said as you sat at the table eating the breakfast she had made for you.

You nodded. “Okay! Don’t stay out too late, I’m making your favorite for dinner, Ags.”

She beamed at you, making butterflies flare up in your stomach so violently they made you uneasy. “You’re a gem. Isn’t she just?” She turned to Rio, squeezing her hand gently.

“Oh, yeah, she’s the sweetest,” Rio replied, winking at you as you feel your heart beat faster.

The two bid you a final farewell before leaving for the day. As soon as they left, you began to feel an uncomfortable itch in your throat. You furrowed your brows, attempting to clear your throat to ease the discomfort, but to no avail. Eventually you began coughing. It was a cough that made you feel sick, made you feel like something was really wrong.

And when you coughed into your palm and saw the petals of daffodils, your suspicions were confirmed.

You had heard of Hanahaki disease but had always believed it to be a myth. Your heart dropped at the realization that your love for these women was going to kill you.

You had to leave.

So you did. You packed up that day and left, traveling solo for centuries as you studied the disease you suffered from. 

Luckily, it impacted witches differently than humans. As your lifespan tended to be a lot longer, the disease was longer lasting; escalating at a slower pace before killing you altogether.

For the first hundred years, it had mostly been a consistent burning in your throat and coughing up various flower petals. Miserable, but bearable nonetheless.

After those hundred years, it began to escalate at a quicker pace as the flowers bloomed quicker and sharper. After 200 years of this disease, you were weaker than ever before. Coughing constantly, a never ending sensation of your insides burning, vomiting flower petals and blood.

Yes, there was the option of surgery, but you couldn’t bring yourself to allow that option to become a reality. You didn’t want to forget the love you held for Rio and Agatha. They had shown you kindness and softness like none other. You would die before you let yourself remove the memory of them from your very soul.

And you were getting close. You knew your time was running out.

And so, after another long day of slowly dying, you stared up at the sky, longing for your loves, even though you knew it could never be.

It was then that you felt yourself being sucked into the ground beneath you, and you let out a yelp at the shock.

Before you knew it, you were clawing your way out of the ground, now in a completely unfamiliar place. You were on a path in a strange, dystopian-looking forest. You could feel the magic buzzing around you as you pulled yourself up from the ground.

“Who is that?”

“I thought we already got a green witch?”

You heard a gasp and looked up to meet a pair of blue eyes you had longed for night after night for the past 200 years.

“Agatha,” you said quietly, tears welling in your eyes before you could stop them.

A familiar voice said your name and you shuddered at the sound.

“Rio.”

The two women stared at you and you stared back, unsure of what to say.

“So, are you gonna introduce us to the new girl, or…” a witch in a pink dress asked and you broke your intense stare-down to introduce yourself by name to the coven of witches. 

“I’m a green witch,” you explained.

“We’ve already got one,” a teenage boy said, pointing at Rio awkwardly.

You knew well and good that Rio wasn’t here as a green witch, she was here on work business, but you didn’t want to blow what seemed to be a cover, and you also didn’t have a damn clue where you were, so you played along.

“Well, you know summoning spells, you never know how many you’re gonna get…” you tried cautiously, still feeling the gaze of your former housemates burning into the side of your head.

“Y/N, a word?” Agatha finally asked, and you gulp before nodding and following her and Rio to a secluded part of the forest.

“Hey guys…what’s up?” you asked with an awkward smile, trying to ease the tension.

Rio narrowed her eyes at you, crossing her arms. “What’s up is that you up and left 200 years ago without so much as a word to either of us. Care to explain?”

You tried to look to Agatha for support, but she wouldn’t meet your eyes. Your stomach turned at the thought that you had upset these women you loved so deeply.

You took a deep breath, staring at the ground. “I had some business to attend to. I didn’t want either of you to get wrapped up in it.”

“Was your business ‘killing yourself?’ You look rough,” Rio said, a teasing smirk hiding her worry.

“Thanks,” you rolled your eyes, some tension releasing from your shoulders at the knowledge that Rio wasn’t angry enough to ignore you.

“You left without so much as saying goodbye,” Agatha said quietly. She sounded so hurt, and you couldn’t believe you had brought this on the pair, but you knew they deserved to love each other in peace, not be burdened at being the cause of your death.

“Ags, I’m really sorry, I should’ve said goodbye, I just-“ you were cut off as a violent coughing fit shook you, causing both women to raise their eyebrows at you.

You turned away from them as you coughed a plumeria flower out of your throat. You quickly slipped the flower into your pocket and wiped a bit of blood from the corner of your mouth before turning to face the two witches again.

The eyes on you were soft and concerned, but you shook your head at them, shutting down their questions before they even asked. “I’m fine, just a cough.”

Rio opened her mouth to protest when a witch sporting orange streaks in her hair interrupted.

“I’m sorry to get in the middle of whatever this reunion is, but I think it’s time for our next trial.”

You furrowed your brows. “Trial?” You began to realize that you had no idea where you actually were.

“Duh, we are on the Witches Road, after all!” The teenage boy exclaimed, leaving you even more confused.

The road isn’t real. You knew all about the song that Agatha had used to lure her victims in. 

“Wait, but-“ you stopped yourself from questioning any further when you saw Rio subtly shake her head at you, a silent plea to not reveal the truth of the road to the group.

You nodded in understanding, deciding to save your questions for later. “Alright, where’s the next trial?”

You looked up to see the group staring at something behind you. Agatha and Rio were particularly fascinated by it.

You turned around and your stomach dropped. You saw a cottage. It’s covered in vines and moss, making it appear worn down. But you thought it was beautiful. Perhaps that’s because it was yours. And Agatha’s. and Rio’s.

You looked at the path leading to the cottage. It was covered in flowers. You took a deep breath.

You just got here and already you were being given a trial.

As you and the rest of the coven approached the cottage, you couldn’t help but turn to the women you desire the most for comfort. 

Rio had an arm wrapped around Agatha’s waist, her thumb gently stroking the witch’s hip bone. Agatha looked up at her, smiling in gratitude, and Rio pressed a soft kiss to Agatha’s forehead.

Your stomach churned at the sight, and you felt bile rising in your throat. You painfully swallowed it back down, cringing at the effect it had on your throat, already raw from the thorns slowly tearing it to shreds.

“You good?” The witch in the pink dress asked, and you nodded.

“Yeah. Let’s just get this over with.”

The inside of the cottage looked just like you thought it would.

Home.

The same furniture, same pillows and blankets, same decor on the walls.

Your eyes filled with tears as you remembered all the time you had spent here with the women you loved more than anything.

“Doll,” a gentle voice said, and you turned to see Agatha looking at you softly. She approached you slowly, holding a hand out for you, but you took a step back.

“I’m fine,” you said, brushing your face and continuing to move through the house.

“This is new,” you heard Rio’s voice from the room resembling your bedroom. 

You entered and were greeted with a tapestry on your wall. It showed 5 flowers. Below the woven flowers was a message:

The words she never spoke will slowly begin to choke. For if they never cared, a life cannot be spared.

“It’s my life,” you breathed out, staring in horror at the plants on the tapestry.

Rio nodded, running her fingers along the tapestry as she identified the plants.

“Lily. Rebirth,” she began.

“The birth of your powers, the birth of you as a witch,” Agatha identified.

“Willow Tree. Loss.”

“The loss of your kin. Being abandoned by those you called family,” Agatha continued.

“Red Carnations. Deep, affectionate love.”

Agatha went silent at this, her brows furrowing.

“Daffodil. Unrequited love.”

Rio and Agatha were visibly shaken by this point. What hadn’t you told them? You were in love? With who?

Rio snapped her head to look at you upon seeing the last flower.

“Plumeria,” she said grimly.

Agatha’s eyes were wide. “What does that mean?” 

Rio only continued to look at you.

“Rio, what does that mean???”

Her question was answered as you began to cough violently again, the sheer force of it bringing you to your knees.

Agatha rushed over to you in a panic. She looked at the rest of the coven in terror. “What’s happening to her?” she cried as you began to choke.

“The words she never spoke will slowly begin to choke,” the teenager said.

“Hanahaki disease,” the witch in pink breathed out.

“What the hell is that?” Agatha was crying now, watching as petals and thorns made their way out of your mouth covered in blood.

“A disease that affects someone facing unrequited love,” Rio said in realization.

As she put the pieces together she knelt in front of you in an instant, anger coursing through her.

“You left because of this,” she said, her voice low, “You thought we didn’t love you, so you left?” she asked incredulously.

“Didn’t want—you to—-see me die,” you gasped out, fighting for air as you began to cough up more and more blood.

“You’re not dying, Y/N. I won’t take you,” Rio choked out, her sorrow getting the best of her. 

“Better this way,” you managed, and Agatha choked out a sob.

“It’s not, doll, we love you, we love you,” she cried helplessly.

The whole coven stood in shock. The two women they feared the most were in the most pain they had seen since they began to walk the road.

Both women hold you tight, desperately trying to convince you of their love.

Rio grabbed your face to look at her. “There’s a reason I took you in that day, mi vida,” she whispered as tears fell down her face, “I felt pulled to you. I knew you would be special to me. Aggie and I love you so much, please believe me.”

She leaned in and pressed her lips to yours, ignoring the blood and petals and thorns and focusing on you. Just you.

When she pulled away you gasped, finally able to gather air into your lungs.

Relief was visible throughout the entire coven. They had only just met you, but seeing how your existence being threatened had brought absolute devastation to two of the most intimidating women on earth had shaken them.

As you began to breathe again, you sagged against Agatha.

“You’re okay, doll, you’re okay now,” she assured you as she gently ran a hand through your hair.

The door to the cottage slammed open, and the rest of the coven took it as their cue to leave, giving you three a moment to recover.

As you laid against Agatha, you looked at Rio with tired eyes. “Sorry for getting blood on you,” you rasped, causing the woman to roll her eyes at you.

“You’re such an idiot, you know that?” She scolded before taking both of your hands in hers. “I. Love. You.”

Tears filled your eyes at her earnest confession. “I’m so sorry I ran,” you began, your body shaking, “I saw the love you had for each other, and how much you had healed each other, and I couldn’t hurt that. I didn’t want you to see me die. It wouldn’t have been your fault,” you said brokenly.

Agatha shushed you, kissing the top of your head. “You shouldn’t have run. It would’ve saved us all 200 years of agony,” she said, and you hang your head in guilt.

But then you felt a cold hand lifting your chin. And suddenly you were 20 years old again, looking into the eyes of Lady Death herself. 

But this time, instead of looking at you with curiosity, she looked at you with something much stronger. She looked at you with love.

“But we’ve got you back now,” she said, smiling tearfully at you, “so we’re taking you in. Is that okay?”

Your body wracked with sobs as you nodded, and both women were holding you in an instant. Your back was against Agatha’s front as her arms wrapped around your waist. Rio straddled you, her arms wrapping around your neck as she pulled you close.

And out of the cracked wooden floor of that cottage, something bloomed.

Lavender. Healing. Love.

[feyascorner]

Hear me out! Hear me out!

From Astrion's pov

A Tav who hates physical contact.

But then one night when it's pouring rain Tav comes to Astarion's tent feeling scared and ask if they can stay and then one thing leads to another and suddenly the two of them are cuddled together and Astarion is like "I thought you didn't like being touched" and Tav is like "Normally I'm scared people will hurt me when they touch me. But you are different. I feel safe with you. I trust you."

a/n. I’m going to collapse they’re everything to me AHHH THIS IS SUCH A CUTE PROMPT

Astarion, by nature and by the two-hundred years he’s spent as a vampire spawn, is a touchy person. It’s instinctual. A habit he can no longer break. It’s not even sexual, half the time. It’s simply how he conveys the words that he struggles to say, even if his vocabulary is filled to the brim with flowery verses of love straight from a romance novel.

But he understands the aversion for touch. Because he’s spent so much of his life hating the touch of strangers against his skin, he understands when you recoil when one of your companions attempt to hug you, or someone tries to shake your hand. Even if yours doesn’t stem from the similar situations where he had to set out on a victim under Cazador’s orders, he understands what it’s like to simply dislike it.

He doesn’t touch you, even if his hand itches to brush the stray strands of hair out of your face. Even as he has to yank his arm away when he feels it nearing yours as you walk alongside one another. Even as all he wants to do is drag you to the nearest corner and beg that you just hold his hand.

So when you appear at the flap of his tent, barely shielding yourself from the thunderous weather outside, asking if you can stay, his jaw physically unhinges.

He coughs, gathering himself quickly—or as quickly as he can manage.

“Come here, darling. You’ll freeze away with that mortal body of yours.”

He doesn’t even know how it happens. Well, he does, but he doesn’t really believe it’s happening. Only fifteen minutes later, you’re snuggled in under his blankets, pressed tightly against his side. He stares up at the ceiling on his back with wide eyes, slowly turning to look at you.

“Is this…alright?” He asks, and you peek out from one eye, adjusting your head on his arm. He can smell your shampoo from so close—lavender? No, maybe another blasted flower he doesn’t know the name of…

“What is?”

“This,” he waves his free arm between the two of you. “Don’t get me wrong, darling, you know I’m never against a cuddle, but I thought you—well—“

You stare at him expectantly.

“I thought you disliked physical contact,” he says, softer. “Not just with me, obviously. In general you seem rather opposed to the idea.”

The thunder rings from outside and your brows crease deeper. The light from a lightning strike illuminates your faces briefly before it’s a dim darkness again, with nothing but your own eyes able to adjust just enough to make out one another’s features. He’s sure he sees more than you do, considering his familiarity with the dark, and uses it to notice the way your lips purse at the intrusive sounds coming from outside.

He also notices you leaning closer to him, but hesitant. Your movements are unsure.

If he had a heart, it would’ve been pounding now, surely.

So he curls his arm closer, pushing you into his chest in the process. You tense briefly, but melt into the feeling, and he lets out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “Are you afraid?”

Your voice is but a whisper. “Not anymore.”

There’s a comfortable silence hanging in the air for what seems like hours, but he might consider them to be just a few minutes. The rain pounds relentlessly against the tent, but here, even through the thin fabric, he doesn’t even notice it anymore.

“You’re different from everyone else,” you mumble, and he looks down at his chest to see your eyes halfway shut, clearly about to doze off. “I know you won’t hurt me…there’s no reason for me to avoid touching you.”

He blinks, and you bury half your face into the fabric of his shirt.

“I want you to touch me.”

For the first time in decades, Astarion finds himself at a loss for words. He’s said worse things, sure, but coming from you?…

After filing through a dozen possible responses, he settled on one, opening his mouth to respond, but your breath is already heavier. You’ve already left to a dream world he cannot follow you into, and you’ve left him in a state that he would’ve considered humiliating with anyone else.

He stares at the ceiling again, listening to the soft rhythm of your breathing.

“You can’t just say that and then fall asleep you fool…”

[rabbitblackx]

Hi! 💕 would you be able to do jaosna, brahms and michael reactions that the reader when they raise their hand or make some sudden movement, the reader thinks that they want to hit her?

Slashers make Reader flinch

Includes: Michael Myers, Jason Voorhees and Brahms Heelshire

Michael Myers💖

Michael came home one Halloween night, hands drenched with blood. He was menacing as ever, standing there still in the dark

“Hi, Michael.” You called out quietly

The only reply you received was his heavy breathing from behind the mask, followed by the floor whining under his boots. He seemed a bit riled up from his killing spree, the faintest glint of delightful rage in his black eye

Michael was beginning to get too close. Just as you were to back into the wall, his fist came up to rest against your head. You immediately flinched, a small squeal of fear leaving your lips

Michael was not expecting you to flinch like that. It wasn’t like he was gonna hurt you. This made him mad. You cracked your eyes open and hesitatingly looked up at him in the dark. A look of almost betrayal twinkled in his eye before he turned his back

“Michael?”

He never thought something like that would bother him. You had been with Michael long enough. Did you still not trust him? After all the self restraint, all the control and gentleness he forced on himself. And you still acted like he was a monster

Michael walked away as calmly as he could. He didn’t want to be around you anymore, but he also wanted to prove his point… that he would never hurt you

Jason Voorhees💖

Jason came home in a bad mood. You didn’t know whether it was because someone got away, or that they were putting up a fight… he was just mad

Jason dumped his bloody machete by the door and brushed right past you, completely ignoring your presence. You turned to watch him storm towards your bedroom. He was probably gonna go to bed and lock you out. He had done that before

“Jason, are you okay?” You asked softly

Jason paused there by the door, and your heart stopped. He stood still for a moment, before turning and walking straight toward you. You watched on wide eyed for a moment, but then flinched back in fear when he got too close

“Please don’t hurt me, Jason. I’m sorry.” You squeaked from behind your hands

Jason’s broad shoulders suddenly slumped. That made him sad. You were scared he was gonna hurt you? Of course he wouldn’t

He watched helplessly as you cowered, before you fearfully peeked up at him. You flinched again as Jason slowly brought his hand up to touch your cheek. He let it linger there, fingers gently brushing against your hair

Before you could say another word, Jason slipped his hand away and turned his back. You brought your own up to touch the same spot as he stormed back out of your cabin

Brahms Heelshire💖

You got back from the village a little later than you told Brahms today. You knew you were gonna be in big rouble because of it

You shut the front doors as quietly as you could, but you knew he was aware of your presence. Just as you were planning what to tell him, you turned away from the doors to find him looming in the shadows

“Brahms,” you smiled nervously

Brahms did not reply. His breathing was heavy behind his mask and he slowly approached you. You held your own breath as he got real close, looming over you menacingly. You were about to apologise, but was startled when he raised his hand

You yelped, throwing yourself against the front doors and shielding your face. Brahms watched in shock. All he was trying to do was put his hand on your shoulder. It stung a little that you flinched away from him like that

You peeked up at Brahms standing before you, his hand still slightly raised as a sad look washed over his eyes. “Brahms, I’m sorry. I thought you were gonna hurt me.” You frowned

Brahms’ shoulders slumped, and he sadly shook his head. Tears pricked your eyes at his broken reaction, and you suddenly felt terrible. You apologised again, throwing your arms around him and resting your head on his chest

Brahms wrapped his own around you in a tight hug. He frowned under his mask as he nuzzled against your hair

[somerandomdudelmao]

Just, man. Whenever I think about Holly I just get sad. Marmor have destroyed Holly’s planet. Kidnapped and mutilated their sister. Holly then also got captured trying to save her, just to find out she’s beyond saving while at the same time somehow not even granted the peace of death.

Holly gets experimented on mercilessly and every honest explanation they can give about their powers is met with contempt because “God did it” isn’t a good enough answer. The kid they helped raise abuses Holly physically and mentally just because they can. Holly was presumably also forced to help the Marmor hunt their own people. Holly can’t even change back to normal because the Marmor took that from them along with every single other form familiar to them! Going from a whole animal kingdom whittled down to an alien creature they can’t even name and a fucking Marmor.

Holly didn’t even have fucking eyes for god knows how long before Ward shows up! The first other being Holly’s ever met that doesn’t want to hurt them and he’s scared of them. And even then, after aaaall of the horrible shit Holly’s been through, they see Ward breaking down and asks “How do humans help?”. And fuck man. Holly is still kind somehow. Trying desperately to connect and to help because that’s what you’re supposed to do, right?

And Ward tells him to stay away. So Holly does. Things actually start looking up actually. Oscar has somehow charmed Ecliptica of all people, and Holly gets to move into a room that’s slightly less of a prison. And Holly isn’t totally isolated anymore! Are they?

Even if they’re nice to Holly, Ward and Oscar really don’t seem to understand Holly’s culture. And every time Holly learns something about humanity they get a little more horrified. Sure, Oscar thinks Holly’s gift is cool, but didn’t Ecliptica say the same thing to Iris?

I’m sure more horrors await them, but I’m glad Holly at least has Oscar and Ward around now. Even if they also count as some of the “Horrors” Holly has to come to terms with.

Shit man, Holly deserves a goddamn hug

You are. So so right.

Holly's whole life is a sandwich of horrors

[pbueckerslover]

‘CAUSE I THINK YOU’RE LOVELY - PAIGE BUECKERS

a/n: this is my favvv brent song it’s sooo good i suggest listening while reading :)

pairing(s): paige bueckers x female!reader

warnings: clubbing, language, smut, fingering (r!receiving), strap on use, ex!gf paige, sorta rough paige

summary: you and paige are exes and see each other at a club two months after your break up. what happens when you both confess how much you’ve missed each other?

i almost fell in love with you

after the club last night

from afar paige could see her. her ex girlfriend. you two broke up only a couple months ago but you’ve been on her mind every day since then. you were the girl of her dreams but things just weren’t working out for you two and you decided you were better off as friends.

how could she let that happen? how could she let the most perfect girl she’s ever met just slip through her fingers like that? to say she regretted her actions was an understatement.

she watched you from across the room, head pounding from the loud voices and even louder music. her eyes were on you for every move you made. they followed every inch of your body taking in every part of you.

it don’t know what you do

moneys gonna treat you right

caught in her daze, she didn’t realize how much closer you had gotten until you were practically inches away from her face.

“paige! oh my god.” you said snapping her back to reality. her eyes finally met yours and she felt like the world was spinning. “hey y/n.. it’s been so long.” she replied watching as you started moving closer.

“too long.” you replied looking up at her with a slight smile. “how have you been? what’s up?” you ask.

paige stays silent for a second before finally replying, “are we really gonna do this? act like everything is fine between us?” she looked sad but angry at the same time.

her words caught you off guard, not the type of reaction you were expecting. “what are you talking about?” you ask, locking your eyes back on hers.

paige scoffs, trying to hide the fact that she still cares about you. you don’t know that you’ve been on her mind everyday even though you’ve been broken up. that all she ever wants to do is just call you up and fuck you till she feels better.

“you know exactly what i mean y/n.” she says looking down at you. “i can’t just pretend like nothing happened between us.”

“hey! i’m not asking you to do that. i came over here to talk to you, because i’ve missed you paige. i really have.” you blurt out and you swore you could see her eyes move down to your lips for a quick second.

“i also want you to know that i’ve changed. i really have, i’m not the same as i used to be and i’m not scared anymore.” you add before paige could get a word in.

girl don’t act like you’ve changed

when we both know you can’t

those words were exactly what she wanted to hear but she just couldn’t let herself give in so easily. if you really missed her so much why did you never think to text? or call? paige would’ve died to know this information sooner.

“don’t… don’t say that. we both know it’s not true.” she replied looking down at you, this time with more fire in her eyes.

you felt hurt a little at her comment, but deep down you knew it was true. you have missed paige ever since you broke up but you’ve been too scared to do anything. scared of her rejection.

“look i’m sorry. i truly am. for everything. can we just hang out and see where the night goes?” you ask with a small smile on your face.

she was quiet for a second but then she nodded. she grabbed your hand and pulled you onto the dance floor. her hands rested on your waist as you moved yours to her neck.

god you had missed this. the feeling of her hands on your body. knowing that her eyes are on you no matter where you’re looking. you had missed everything about her.

and i know you love me

‘cause i think you’re lovely

so of course it wasn’t a surprise when you two ended up taking an uber back to her place later that night. you were now laying on her bed as she continued pumping her large fingers inside of you.

your moans filled the room as you watched paige’s every move. the way her toned arms moved as she fucked you harder. you couldn’t believe this was actually happening right now. the girl you loved was finally doing all the things you had been dreaming about for the past two months.

“oh paige.... missed this so bad.” you breathed out as paige was hitting all the right spots.

“yeah baby? you missed me fucking you like the little slut you are?” she said causing you to let out another string of loud moans. the sound was like music to her ears. “gonna give it to you just how you want it.”

girl check my coat

drop that ass on the floor

she stopped her movements before looking at you once again. “turn around.” she said blankly. you did as she said turning around so your back was now facing her.

she ran to her closet to grab a box. she opened it to reveal the strap she had used on you multiple times before. she smirked as she noticed you watching her.

once she had it on she was pulling you over to her. without a warning she was pushing up into you as your ass slapped down against her thighs.

“oh my god! fuck p! feels so good.” you yelled out as her pace started to become quicker. she placed a smack to your ass before grabbing it hard. she gripped onto your hips pushing you down further on her cock. you knew there was going to be marks left from that.

see you move on that pole

baby look at you go

“doing so good for me baby.” she let out moving her hands to cup your tits. she ran her fingers across your nipples as she started to leave kisses on the back of your neck.

your moans became louder as she continued pleasuring you. you knew you were close and you knew she could feel it too.

“paige.. ‘m gonna cum!” you said as another moan slipped from your mouth.

“want you to cum all over my cock.” she replied making you look back at her before she pushed herself into you once more.

you released all over her cock, just like she had suggested. you tried to catch your breath as you came down from your high.

she cleaned the two of you up before laying back down in the bed next you. she let out a small sigh before saying, “that was… fuck i don’t even know what to say. i’ve definitely missed that.”

you chuckled at her words, feeling yourself blush at the fact that she could barely form a sentence. “me too paige. i’ve missed you a lot.” you replied as you laid your head down on her chest.

she placed a soft kiss to your forehead and wrapped her arms around your waist. her hands stroked your hair while you both drifted off to sleep.

⇾ be sure to checkout my masterlist if you enjoyed! any type of interaction is appreciated :,)

⇾ thank u sm for reading!! i hope you guys enjoyed.. look out for more fics this week <3

[pedroscurls]

training partners (pt. 6)

summary: you tell hugh how you feel about him after he tells you he loves you. pairing: hugh jackman x fem!reader warnings: fluff / smut (18+), implied age gap (hugh is 55, reader is in late 20s-early 30s), smut (fingering, missionary, unprotected p in v sex, hugh calls you his good girl 🤭) no use of y/n. word count: 2.9k a/n: this is purely fictional! i mean no disrespect to hugh jackman. prev part. - next part.

“I love you.” 

You feel your heart beating out of your chest, the butterflies swarming in the pit of your stomach. Hugh’s eyes haven’t left yours, locked in an intense gaze as his hand drops from your cheek to rest on your hip. He looks relieved, but still anxious as the silence engulfs the both of you. Tears begin to sting your eyes as you stare into him, feeling a sudden wave of emotions overcome you. 

“Y– You love me?” you ask quietly, voice shaky. “Are you sure?” 

Hugh lets out a low chuckle. “Are you asking me if I’m sure that I love you? If I’m so deeply in love with you that there are days when we’re apart that all I can think about is you? Is that what you’re asking me? If I’m sure?” 

You nod, biting your lower lip. “Yes, are you–”

“If I wasn’t sure about this, about you, about how I feel for you, I wouldn’t say it.” Hugh admits, his hands coming up to rest underneath your shirt to touch your skin, to rub circles against your hips. 

“I know,” you mumble. “I just– Are you sure about me?” 

“Baby,” Hugh moves to sit on the edge of the bed, pulling you to sit on his lap. One hand rests on your upper thigh as the other moves to rest on the side of your neck, brushing against your jawline. “I’m crazy about you.”

You look into his eyes. You aren’t sure what you’re searching for as you gaze into him. Part of you feels relief, but there’s another part of you that’s afraid of taking that next step, afraid of putting yourself in a position only to get hurt again. And it’s hard – it’s fucking difficult when this moment that is meant to be filled with joy and excitement is replaced with your worries and anxieties because of your past. 

Hugh doesn’t say anything for a moment, doesn’t want to scare you away because he can practically see you thinking, can see the way your mind is drifting. “You don’t have to say it back and I don’t want to pressure you,” he admits, voice quiet. “But I just had to tell you because I couldn’t hold it in anymore.”

Suddenly, you feel tears beginning to trickle down your cheeks. You feel your chest tightening and not because you’re sad, but because you’re so overwhelmed with the intense emotion and realization that you love Hugh too. You’re so deeply in love with him that it scares you, but also excites you. There’s a part of you that can’t even imagine life without him and as cliche as that sounds, just thinking about life without him in it just causes you so much pain. 

Hugh had nestled his way into your life and made a home in your heart. 

“I love you too,” you finally say through your tears. Hugh brings both hands up to your cheeks, wiping your tears away as a small smile begins to line his lips. “I’m so, so, so in love with you, Hugh.”

“You feel like home,” Hugh admits, his own tears of happiness stinging his eyes. “I love you. God, baby, I love you.” he repeats, leaning in to peck your lips lightly. 

Slowly, you bring your arms to wrap around his shoulders and feel his hands move back to your thighs, running them upwards until his hands move to rest on your hips from underneath your shirt. 

“I love you,” you whisper, pressing a soft kiss on his lips. “I love you,” you continue, pressing your lips on his cheek as you feel his head tilt back. “I love you,” you finish, lips brushing against his jawline down the side of his neck. His hands grip your hips, pulling you to him which causes your hips to roll forward, brushing against his growing length. 

“Baby,” Hugh grunts, feeling your teeth gently graze the skin at the side of his neck. “I gotta shower first. Long day of filming and–” 

You interrupt him and then roll your hips again, more firmly as you reach for his hand to move between your legs. “Can it wait?” 

Hugh growls, moving your panties to the side to run the tip of his finger across the length of your sex and feels your wetness immediately coat him. He rolls you over onto your back as he hovers above you. His free hand rests above your head as his other hand tugs your panties down your legs. You kick it off the side and Hugh settles himself between your legs, causing you to spread them apart for him. 

He leans down and presses his lips against yours as he slides his finger into you. You gasp against his lips, giving him enough access to slide his tongue past your lips, not wasting any time to begin pumping his finger into you as his lips move expertly against yours. 

You bring your hands up to rest on his shoulders, digging your fingertips into him. You have to pull away, a loud moan escaping your lips as Hugh adds another digit. His teeth grazes your jawline when you tilt your head back against the mattress, his fingers sliding in and out of your depths. 

“Hugh!” you exclaim, toes curling as the sound of his fingers pumping in and out of you filters the hotel room. “Baby, please, I–”

“Come for me, honey,” Hugh groans, curling his fingers inside of you as his thumb presses against your clit. The slight pressure causes a loud moan to leave your lips and when he begins to rub circles against you, you feel the pit of your stomach tightening as your walls begin to clench around his thick and long fingers. Hugh continues his movements to help you ride out your climax, slowly pulling his fingers away from you to see your slickness along his fingers. He grins to himself and brings it to his lips. “Fucking delicious,” he winks. 

You’re breathing heavily, chest heaving as you stare up at him. You’re still very sensitive, but you reach down to palm the front of Hugh’s jeans, his bulge prominent and pressing against the fabric. Hugh growls, hands now resting on the bed at either side of your head. 

“Baby,” he groans. “Let me just– Ah, fuck,” he whimpers, feeling your hand slide into his pants to take hold of him after unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans. He reaches down and takes a hold of your wrist, gently pulling you away from him. Hugh gently kisses your knuckles and looks down at you. “I’ll take a quick shower. I promise.” 

You smile to yourself and nod, leaning up to peck his lips. “Okay, I’ll be a good girl and wait patiently.”

Hugh’s eyes narrow down at you and pushes his pants and boxers down his legs, kicking them off as he takes a hold of himself. He holds himself at his base, running his leaking tip across your throbbing heat. He watches your eyes flutter at the sensation, biting your lower lip in anticipation. 

“A good girl, huh?” Hugh asks quietly, watching as his tip catches against your opening before he pulls back enough to press his tip against your clit, rubbing it slowly in circles. “Can a good girl say please?”

“Please,” you beg, lifting your hips off the bed to try and push yourself onto him. “Please.” 

Hugh grins and slowly pushes himself into you, groaning at your tight walls immediately wrapping around him. He releases himself to rest his forearms on the bed at either side of your head as his forehead rests against yours. Hugh continues to push himself further into your depths until he fills you to the hilt. 

“Fuck,” you whimper, your arms moving to rest lazily around his shoulders. You wrap your legs around his waist, rolling your hips upwards for some friction. 

Hugh’s body presses firmly against yours as his hips slowly begins to roll. He reaches down and wraps his arms around your waist, hands resting on the flesh of your backside as he slowly pulls out and pushes back in. Hugh’s strokes are long and deep, slow and controlled, even though all he wants to do is just speed up his movements and leave you a complete mess. 

His entire being is filled with love and adoration, a sense of relief and excitement knowing that you both are taking the next step in this relationship. Hugh pecks your lips lightly, the sounds of your moans mixing in with the wet sounds coming from where you’re both connected. 

“I love you,” he whispers against your lips. “I love you, baby,” Hugh groans, pulling out to his tip until he slams back into you. Your walls wrap around him so tightly, milking him with each thrust. You feel every inch and every vein of his throbbing manhood within your depths, tightening your legs around him to bring him closer to you. 

“Hugh,” you moan, eyes fluttering shut. “I– I love you too, oh god.” 

Hugh begins picking up the pace, hips slamming into yours as the sound of skin slapping against one another echoes off the walls of the hotel room. He leans up, reaching for the headboard above you as his hips continue its quickened movements. His grip around the headboard tightens as he feels your walls begin to contract around him and he knows you’re close. 

You reach up to rest your hands on his chest, fingertips digging into him as you feel yourself reach another high. Hugh’s thrusts doesn’t let up as he reaches down with one hand to cup your cheek, urging you to look up into his eyes. “Come on, baby,” he whispers, slamming into you once more. He feels himself get closer and closer, the feeling of your walls beginning to clench around him only pushing him closer to the edge. 

When you reach your high, your legs tighten further around him and your hands reach up to grip his shoulders. Your body trembles as your walls tighten around his length. You stare into his eyes, mouth slightly agape as Hugh groans to himself, his hips stuttering as you feel his warmth fill you up.

Hugh grunts, slowing his thrusts before he leans down and pecks your lips. His hands move to brush the hair away from your face, staring into your eyes once he pulls away. “I love you, baby,” he whispers. “I think I’m gonna say it every chance I get.”

You smile to yourself, breathing heavily as you bring a hand up to his hair as well. You play with the hair at his nape as you feel him slowly pull out of you. “Good because I love hearing you say it,” you reply. “And I love you too, Hugh.” 

—

Throughout the rest of the week, you and Hugh make it clearly obvious that you’re both in a relationship while on set. Surprisingly, though, it didn’t come as a shock to the rest of the cast and crew. 

“Oh, we know,” one of the make-up artists say with a smile. “We kind of had an idea on the first day. He just kept looking at you.”

“Yeah, that’s not news to us,” another crew member says. “He always asks about you and I don’t think he realizes the way he looks at you.”

You and Hugh both decide to keep things professional while on set, careful not to be too affectionate with each other, and it comes easy. A quick peck on the lips, a hand on your lower back, a hand on his chest. And whenever you do get on set, it just feels like a dream. Everything about this feels like a dream. 

At the end of the week, the cast and crew get the weekend off and decide to all go out for drinks to celebrate the first week of filming. While you and Hugh had both taken that next step in your relationship, the aspect of telling the entire world still lingers. 

“Hey, baby?” Hugh asks, stepping out of the bathroom in casual wear – black jeans, white t-shirt, and a black bomber jacket. 

You pull on your oversized cardigan, dressed in a pair of jeans and a black top. You look over at him, smiling to yourself at just how good he looks. “Yeah?” 

“We never did talk about what we wanna say or do or act in public…” he continues, hands coming to rest on your hips. “We’re going out tonight and there’s a chance that–”

“It’s okay,” you tell him, moving your hands to rest on his chest. “I don’t want to hide this anymore, or keep this a secret.”

Hugh’s eyes light up. “Are you sure?” 

“I’m sure,” you smile. “I want to be able to hold your hand or give you a kiss, tell you I love you in public and I know that we couldn’t keep this out of the public eye forever.” 

“I love you,” Hugh grins, leaning down to peck your lips. “And we don’t have to make an official statement or anything, but–”

“Whatever we should do, Hugh, I’m okay with. I want this with you. All of it. Everything.” 

Hugh lets out a sigh of relief and wraps his arms tightly around your frame, pulling you flush against him. “Think we can do a quick–”

“Nothing is ever quick with us and you know it,” you wink.

“You have a point,” Hugh smiles. “Not my fault that I like to take my time with you.” 

“Okay, okay, let’s go before I change my mind.” 

Hugh chuckles and leans down to peck your lips, pulling back only slightly to rest his forehead against yours. “I love you, baby.” 

“I love you too, Hugh. Very much.” 

“Good,” he says, pulling away and taking your hand. “Let’s go.”

—

By the time dinner has ended, you’re already a bit tipsy from your third glass of wine. You’re leaning against Hugh, his arm draped over the back of your chair as he turns his head to kiss your temple. You smile up at him and meet his eyes. Everyone around you seems to disappear until all you can focus on is Hugh. 

“What?” he asks quietly. 

“Love you,” you smile. 

Hugh chuckles, leaning in to kiss your forehead. “I love you too, baby.” 

“Wanna dance?” 

Hugh’s eyes slightly widen and looks around. “There’s no dance floor, baby.” 

“We’ll make our own.” 

Hugh smiles to himself and nods, standing from his seat as he extends his hand out for you. You take it immediately, feeling his free arm pull you close to him as you rest your hand on his shoulder. You slowly sway to the background music of the restaurant, everyone else around you seemingly disappearing. All you could focus on was Hugh, the sounds of chatter and laughter fading into the background. 

You don’t notice it, but Ryan snaps a few photos of the both of you as you and Hugh stare into each other’s eyes. Hugh holds your hand close to his chest as he holds you firmly against him. He never thought that he’d get so lucky to be in love again, to be with a woman as amazing as you. 

“You make me so happy, you know that?” he whispers. 

You feel the heat rise in your cheeks as you sober up immediately. In his arms, you feel safe. Under his gaze, you feel special, like you’re the only person he sees. 

“You make me happy too, Hugh.”

“My swole-mate,” he chuckles. 

“We gotta get back in the gym.” 

Hugh nods in agreement. “Some of us are planning to go tomorrow,” he says softly. “Come with?”

“Oh definitely,” you grin. “Any chance I can get to watch you in the gym is time well spent.” 

Hugh laughs quietly and pecks your lips, seeing the flash of a camera in his peripheral. He looks over to see Ryan smiling up at him, giving him a thumbs up. He turns back to you and smiles. “I can say the same about you, baby.” 

“I love you, Hugh.”

“I love you too,” he replies instantly. 

—

Later that night, once you and Hugh make it back to the hotel room, he sees the pictures that Ryan had taken of the both of you. Grinning to himself, he looks over at you, watching you continue to edit the pictures you had taken on set from this last week. 

“Hey baby,” he says softly, coming up to rest his chin on your shoulder. “I’m gonna post a picture of us, that okay?” 

You look over at him, biting your lower lip. “Can I see the picture?” 

Hugh nods and hands you his phone. “Ryan took a few.” 

You look down at his phone and immediately smile to yourself, but you pause on a particular photograph that makes your heart race and your stomach do flips. You’re both in each other’s embrace – probably from the impromptu dance you asked of him – and you’re just staring into each other’s eyes. It’s clearly obvious the amount of love that you both have for each other and how attentive you are with one another in this picture. No one else mattered in the picture because all you could both see was each other. 

“I love it.” 

Hugh smiles and pecks your lips. “Thought you might.” 

You hand him back your phone and then peer over to see what he’s typing, biting your lower lip once he posts it for millions of his followers to see. He shows you the post and not only is it for his story, but it remains on his actual profile. 

“Such a romantic,” you tease, looking up at him. 

“Well, it’s the truth, baby.” 

You look at the post and smile to yourself, rereading the caption he added: Crazy about her. 

---

taglist (if links don't work, i'm sorry!): @corvusmorte - @dragonqueen89 - @whimsiwitchy - @kellyxo1

@wolviehugh - @moonxknightx - @sullyselena - @angelofthorr - @spectorrrhgf

@needz1nk - @fandomxo00 - @godlypresley - @kythefangirl25 - @callsignyourmom

@sue8724 - @squishyfruitloop - @sylviavf - @emotrash1 - @dissentientss

@sir-thisisadndserver - @absolutepie - @millajay - @itsallyscorner - @haytchee

@wolverigrl - @its-in-the-woods - @d3ad2you - @definitely-not-chill

[monster-mash-m]

Anomalous love

𐌌ዐ𐌍ነ𐌕ቹ𐌐?Boyfriend x Human!Reader

Mdni!

Cw: creampie, lying, slight size difference, non gendered, no specific genitalia, rough sex, loving relationship, creepy imagery, weird monster dick

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿

You have been seeing this guy for a while now. He’s just… perfect. He’s kind, caring, generous, funny…. He’s just, your whole world. You’ve been dating Zen for about almost a year now and you could never ask for more.

Maybe you didn’t have a choice for more…

It was a cozy September evening, just as summer was turning into autumn. You were in your boyfriend’s house waiting for him to come home, you were going to surprise him with his favorite food since you were such a kind partner!

And of course you were hiding to really surprise him. And just like that you heard the door unclick. You got into your position as you heard Zens shoes click against the wooden floor. Then… they just stopped. You thought he may have spotted you, but you couldn’t be more wrong. Because not long after… the walking resumed but it sounded…. Sticky… that… that wasn’t right. You quickly peak out of the corner to see what he was doing. Only to be met with… “Zen…?” You gasp out in shock

What stood before you was not human. His skin began to grow grayer, his sanely blonde curls became almost as pitch black as his fingers that had spindly veins emerging from them, also charcoal black. His teeth sharpened to razor like points along with his nails. His soft brown eyes were more a piercing gold. Sticky wet tentacles sprout from his back like live snakes.

Of course you began to tremble when his head snapped around at who said his name. His expression a mixture of worry and softness as soon as he realizes who it was. “Babe-“ his voice echoed in an uncanny way. “Please wait- s- no stop panicking-“ he immediately began to try and calm you down.

You stood frozen in fear. Your only movement was of your chest taking in gusts of air to try and compose yourself.

He changed back into his human form “shit- babe… I didn’t know you were here-“ he said remorsefully as he hesitantly walked over. “Please just- stop panicking.”

Somehow you did. You just look up at him more at ease with him in his human form “what… what was that? What were you?” He frowned “I-“ he stopped himself and took a deep breath.

“The truth has to come out eventually….” He looked away in shame. “I’m a…. Well I’m an anomaly…. A monster…. Or something humans would portray as a changeling or crypid…” he tried to explain “b-but im not a monster baby! That’s what you need to understand!” You just look at him trying to take in the information… you’ve been dating this… thing for so long… you should be more scared… more trying to run away and scream for help. But… you weren’t. That was odd, you thought.

“I’ve never hurt anyone or anything baby! I just- I live amongst humans- I…. I know I should’ve told you the truth.. but I fell inlove with you as soon as I saw you… I-i couldn’t risk you… despising me- or being scared of me… the real me…” he looked at you with such guilt.

You almost felt bad for your initial reaction. “Zen… I… I don’t know how to process this… I… you- I don’t-“ he just nods slowly “I understand babe…” he takes your hand cautiously “you… you’re gonna take a while to process this… but we… we can work past this… right?”

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵

And oh yes, you both managed to work past his… quirks. So much so that when he’s home he’s never in his human form around you anymore. And that’s also developed into the bedroom as well.

Zen chuckled softly as he bound your wrists with one of his slippery tentacles “babyyyy~.” He hummed in amusement “You’re squirming all pretty for me yeah?” His echoey voice lingered in your head making you dizzy. You just nod softly looking up at him squeezing your thighs together.

Two more tentacles take ahold of both your legs, spreading them rather eagerly “Been wanting to stretch you on my monster cock for so long baby…” he growled lowly. Excitement drenching his tone. “To feel your human body react to my every beck and call…” he hissed out as he Regan to run his inhuman cock against your entrance.

It had a blunt tip whirl the shaft was gray going into charcoal black at the head. His length was also extremely textured with bumps and ridges. And not so surprisingly just as slick as his tentacles. “I’m gonna push it in now baby… just breathe… I got you…” he shuddered out as his heavy cock pushed into you.

You gasp out and squirm even more in his grasp as he slowly bullied his cock into your tight hole. “Fuuuuck baby oh god- shit, so tight for me like this-“ he grunted out trying to restrain himself. You on the other hand we’re fighting for your life. His non human cock… well it was huge. “F-fuck! Wait- it’s too big too big/“ you pant out mindlessly which was interrupted by your own loud gasp. He was all in. You felt it. You felt his cold hips pressed flush against your plump ass.

His hands dig into the fat of your hips for leverage “God- “ he seethed out clenching his eyes shut “feel like I’m gonna cum already…” he laughed with a strained tone. His spare tentacles began to tease and wrap around your soft body. You let out a tense laugh as well as you adjust to his sheer girth.

After a while of growing accustomed to his twitching cock inside out you, you smile bashfully “you can move now Zen…” you practically whisper out, but that’s all that he needed to start rutting into you like a feral animal. His cock hitting allll the right spots in you. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you arch your back, Zens’ thrusts getting more jagged and his breaths laboured “god- fuck I’m gonna cum baby I’m gonna cum!” He almost whimpers out as his cock continuously plunged in and out of you.

Soon you feel your own climax building as one of his tentacles plays with your nipples. Another rubbing your sex. “Mh- yes baby, imma cum too-“ you practically mewl out as you squirm against him. The fat on your body jiggled with every harsh thrust he gave you, his eyes fixated on you, mesmerized by your body.

Not too soon after you felt his hot thick cum oozing into your hole, filling you to the brim. Making you gasp loudly as his name falls from your lips one last time before you burst into climax around his softening dick.

Zen slowly pulls out and gives you a small forehead kiss with a goofy smile. “You took that like a champ.” You just roll your eyes and chuckle, pulling him down for a cuddle.

[zyhkoo]

☆ I fell first, you fell too late.

dick grayson x f!reader

he promised you that you wouldn’t feel alone anymore, is that true?

a/n: to my first love, who inspired me to write this.

Dick remembers the first time he met you, Bruce assigned a mission for the two of you. You protested at first, you didn’t want to work with someone you didn’t know but the job had to be done.

Often, you two would bump into each other. It was probably because your adopted father (Jim) would also bump into Batman himself.

There was one encounter that Dick could never forget.

Dick was on his way to his favorite burger shop, then in the distance he spotted you alone at a table. Dick of course walks to your table, you looked up at the familiar figure and sighed.

“Why do I keep on bumping into you?” you furrowed your brows “Are you stalking me or something?” Dick shakes his head “Of course not!” he crosses his arms.

“Maybe you’re stalking me, this is my favorite place in Gotham after all.” he smirks, you rolled your eyes at him.

Dick then takes the seat across from you.

“Anyway, mind if I sit here?”

“Yes I mind.”

“Too bad.”

Dick smiles at you, you simply roll your eyes.

Dick chuckled at that “You seem a little grouchy today, tough night?” he leaned against the table a bit, looking over you with those piercing blue eyes of his.

“It’s not my fault I’m so handsome.” he shrugged, not backing down from your glare.

You raised a brow “You? Handsome? Yeah I’m Batman, nice to meet you.”

Some people smiled at you both, just two cute kids arguing about whatever.

Dick noticed this, and as he noticed the smiles he chuckled awkwardly.

“Maybe we should stop, people are staring.” he said, the side of his mouth slightly upturned into a half-smile.

You only crossed your arms and scoffed “Who are you talking to talk? You started.”

“Yeah, cause we’re friends. And friends banter?” he said, it wasn’t a question.

Your brow raised “You see me as a friend?”

"Of course I do!" he huffed, not appreciating you being surprised, “You think I would hang out with you this much if I didn’t?”

Barbara was the only friend you considered at the moment. You didn’t really have friends because of your tough and sassy personality.

It warmed you up when Dick told you he saw you as one of his friends.

“Hm, okay.”

Dick could tell you were trying to hide your surprise, but he smiled softly, thinking it was kind of endearing.

Usually you came off as a bit rude and cold, but he knew you were just trying to guard your heart.

Dick leaned down in front of you “Why wouldn’t I?” he chuckled, trying to get you to smile for him.

You looked down om the menu “Nothing, just order your burger.”

“I don’t think I will be ordering the burger actually” he smirked at you “Maybe I’ll just steal your food instead.”

You glared “Do you want me to throw you across this restaurant?”

“I'd like to see you try.” he said, clearly enjoying his effect on you.

Dick was never bothered by your threats, he knows you wouldn't actually hurt him.

You only groaned and ignored him.

He chuckled and leaned forward on the table, propping his chin up in his hand.

Dick looked at you silently for a moment, just studying you. He liked to look at you. He thought you were beautiful.

He liked to study your features, how the light hit the bridge of your nose, the way your eyes flickered as you scanned through the menu. He also loved when you would get frustrated with him, you looked adorable.

“Do you want to know what I think?” he asked.

,

“What?” you looked up at his eyes.

He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms “You’re not as tough as you pretend to be.”

He says, keeping his eyes trained on you, watching your frustrated expression.

You looked back down, at this point you weren’t choosing your food “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He chuckled at your denial, enjoying your stubborn attitude.

“You always try to act so tough and serious. You don’t like to let people get close to you. You’re scared of getting hurt.”

You only stayed silent. Dick frowned slightly, normally you would’ve said something in response by now.

He knew he was right. After getting to know you as well as he has, it was pretty obvious that you didn’t trust people.

You were afraid of getting close to someone in case they would leave you.

Dick leaned forward again, wanting to get you to talk to him.

“Hey, I’m right though aren’t I?”

You slowly nodded. “Can you tell the waitress I want a cheeseburger?”

He smiled softly, he was kind of glad you didn’t deny his statement.

“Yes Ma’am.” he said, standing up and going over to the waitress.

Dick converses with the waitress, orders a burger for himself, and your cheeseburger. He goes back to sit across from you, with a smile as he says, “It’ll be ready soon.”

He leans against the table, fiddling with the salt shaker.

“You know,” he looks up at you, “You don’t have to keep me at a distance all the time. We’re friends, you can trust me. I’ll never leave you, no matter how ‘grouchy’ you get.”

You sighed “You're right about me. I don’t like being close to anyone because they’ll leave me anyway.”

“Not everyone is going to leave, I’m not going anywhere. You have to let people in you know, let people love you.”

“Babs and commissioner is enough for me, I don’t see why I need more.” you replied.

“They’re great but you need more than two people.”

“You need friends. Me, for example. You definitely need me.” he grins, crossing his arms.

You scoff “Do you always joke at times like these?”

“It’s not a joke this time.” he says simply.

The waitress approaches and sets down the food, Dick thanks her and she smiles and walks away.

“I’m serious about this.” he takes a bite of his burger, “You need more friends.”

You bit the cheese sticking out of your burger “Why do you care anyway?” you said.

“I said mean things about you.”

“So what? You always say mean things to me.” he said, taking another bite of his food.

“Its just who you are, I’m not bothered by it.” he shrugged.

You furrowed your brows “You’re something else.”

He chuckled “Why? Because I don’t let your rude comments bother me?”

Dick grins at you while he continues to eat, “Or because I’m willingly friends with you?”

You hummed “Both, you’re an idiot.

“Maybe I am an idiot.” he said, putting his burger down and crossing his arms, “But I’m your idiot, whether you like it or not.”

“I don’t own you.” you replied.

“Of course you don’t.” he rolls his eyes, “I was insinuating that I’m going to annoyingly stick around whether you like it or not.”

Years passed, the two of you were glued to the hip. Your thought demeanor slowly turns soft every time you spend time with him.

He changes as well, he’s no longer the Robin you argue with as a kid.

Dick really cherished the time the two of you spent together. He could see you slowly warming up to him, and he was glad.

Dick grew to become much more serious than he used to be, he still enjoyed playing around but now he took his job as Nightwing very seriously.

His carefree, flirty attitude still remained though, and he never shied from giving you a compliment.

He began to see you in a different light. He still thought you were just as beautiful as he did before, but lately, he’s developed feelings for you.

Dick didn’t understand why, he thought he was satisfied with being ‘just friends’.

But as time went on, he just seemed to fall further and further for you.

The two of you have been through everything together. The good times, the bad times, all of it.

Dick has seen every part of you.

Dick loved everything about you, how you’d get mad at him for his annoying teasing, how you would just stare at him with your frustrated eyes, or that genuine smile you’d give only to him.

He kept telling himself that he was satisfied with just being a friend. But with every smile, every eye roll, and every glare you gave him. Dick became more lovesick, he didn’t understand why.

He had never felt like this before, he didn’t know what to do with these new found feelings.

For a while, he tried to keep these feelings hidden, he tried to tell himself you would never like him back. He thought it was best to keep it to himself.

But every time you’d look at him with those pretty eyes, every time you’d playfully hit him because he was trying to annoy you, he just fell harder.

Then, there was one time where everyone turned on you.

Things had taken a downhill turn, you had gotten framed for a crime you didn’t commit and now everyone was against you.

Even Barbara turned her back on you. You felt like you were at your lowest.

It was a period that really tested Dick’s feelings.

You were hated by everyone you knew, Dick even started to distance himself from you at the time.

Dick couldn’t do it. He didn’t care what everyone else thought, you were still his friend. He knew who you really were, he knew you were a good person.

Despite what everyone said about you, Dick never stopped believing you.

He knew what kind of person you were, what your heart was truly like. There was no way you would do what they accused you of.

Dick couldn’t just abandon you now, not when you were at your lowest.

Even when everyone said he would be an idiot to remain by your side, he didn’t care. You were important to him.

You were at an abandoned warehouse, your head was practically on the line so you were hiding.

Dick found out where you had been hiding.

He knew it wouldn���t be safe to hide here for long, he had to get you away from there.

You were sitting, slumped against the wall with your head against your knees.

Dick approached silently, slowly getting down to kneel in front of you. He was quiet, just observing you for a moment before sighing and speaking.

“Hey.”

You slowly lifted your head “Aren’t you supposed to hate me too?” you scoffed and you buried your head back in your knees.

Dick frowned, seeing you slumped there like that was just…wrong. It didn’t suit you.

He let out another sigh and sat down next to you.

“You know I don’t hate you.” he said bluntly, “I believe you.”

Dick looked over at you, his gaze on you for a moment before he spoke.

“Most people see things at surface level. They don’t always know how to look deeper. Sometimes people are so narrow minded that no matter how much evidence there is, they won’t accept the truth.”

Dick took another glance over at you, his voice quieter now.

“I know your heart. I know you’re a good person, I know you didn’t do it.”

Dick was tempted to reach his hand out and gently pull you into a hug.

“It’s going to be alright.” he assured quietly, “It’s going to be okay.”

You teared up and hugged him tight.

Dick froze for a moment as you suddenly wrapped your arms around him, but he quickly reciprocated and wrapped his arms around you in return.

He closed his eyes as he pulled you into a tighter hug, burying his face into your hair, “I’ve got you.”

“Everyone I knew just.. turned their back on me in a blink of an eye. Even Babs..” you quietly sobbed.

He felt his heart clench when you said that.

He was one of the only people that believed in you, and you felt everyone you thought cared about you turned against you.

Dick buried his face more into your hair, tightening his hold on you, “I know. I’m so sorry.”

“I hate this fucking city.” you cursed as you held him tighter.

“You and me both.”

Soon enough, it became clear that you were innocent.

Evidence had come to point to the real culprit that framed you for the crime.

Once the truth was discovered, most people were quick to apologize to you, claiming they never truly believed the lie.

It hit hard when Barbara and Jim apologized.

Seeing them apologize to you, the two people you thought you knew well, was a hard blow.

They had both been wrong about you, and betrayed you.

But they were your family so you ended up forgiving them.

Your heart ached at the fact that they had betrayed you so easily, but they were your family.

Over time, you eventually forgave them. Despite the sting of knowing they so easily believed the lie, they were still your family and you loved them.

Things had started to return to a sense of normalcy.

Most people had come to realize you were framed. People weren’t as hostile towards you anymore. Dick stuck to his promise and never left your side.

Eventually, the bat-family had grown bigger.

There were more and more people that Dick and the others cared about. It seemed the family would never stop expanding.

But, you had other plans. You had come to the conclusion that Gotham wasn’t the best place.

The city had its corruption, problems, and it was a hellhole of violence.

You came to a decision. You were going to move to a different city.

When Dick found out you were leaving, he couldn't believe it.

The thought of not having you in Gotham, not being able to see you regularly, it hurt him.

He didn't want you to go, he wanted to ask you to stay, but he kept it to himself.

It was sunset, the two of you were walking at a park.

It was a nice time, the sky was painted beautifully with colors from the setting sun.

The light was hitting your features just right.

Dick walked next to you, his hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket, taking glances at you.

“I’ll miss the burgers here.” you said while walking.

Dick chuckled, glancing over to you, “Really? Out of everything in Gotham, you’ll miss the food?”

He kept his pace next to you, the two of you walking together.

“Don’t be an idiot, I’ll miss everyone as well of course.” you scoffed with a smile.

“Obviously.” he teased, a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, “I’m the one you’ll miss the most, right?”

You were silent for a moment, thinking if you should admit it or not. “Yeah.”

Dick was a little surprised by your answer, but his smile widened.

He tried to fight back a goofy grin, “I’ll definitely miss you, too.”

The two of you had made it to a small pond. For a moment, Dick was just watching you.

He had to say it. He had to ask you to stay.

“Hey, are you really serious about leaving Gotham?” he questioned quietly, folding his arms and looking over at you.

“Yeah.” you said.

It was time to try and convince you to stay.

“Why?” he pressed, his voice still quiet, “You’d be leaving everyone.”

“I want a fresh start.” you answered, avoiding his gaze.

Dick’s shoulders slumped, his voice still quiet as he spoke.

“What about me?”

You looked at him “You?

“Are you seriously going to leave me all alone in Gotham?”

You shook your head “Dick- you have the.. bat-family by your side. Why would you feel alone?” you asked.

He was trying to keep his cool, but he failed, his voice coming out more frustrated now than before.

“That’s not what I meant. You know I’m not talking about the others.”

He took a step closer to you, “You and I are good friends, we’ve been through everything together.”

“Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

“It does.” you reassure him, holding his shoulders

“Then why do you have to go?” he questioned.

You didn’t know how to answer “Well..”

Dick was silent, letting you take a moment to think.

He couldn’t help but look into your eyes. Everything about you was so beautiful. He didn’t want to lose you. He couldn’t lose you.

“I don’t know this city...” you looked away from his gaze.

“I hate it.” that was the problem.

“Yeah, I know the city sucks,” he mumbled, “But… It's home. It’s my home, and I don’t want you to go…”

Dick looked at you and held your gaze, his voice low.

“I don’t want you to go because…”

He looked away for a moment before looking back at you and taking your hands in his own, “Because I love you.”

Your eyes widened as your hands dropped, you shook your head. “No.. no.”

He reached out to try and take your hands again, but you stepped back.

His shoulders slumped a bit. He could see your reaction, you were rejecting him.

You sharply inhale your breath “Dick I.. I’m not.. I don’t want to love.” you said “And I don’t think I’ll ever be in love.”

“You don’t.. want to love? At all?” he questioned, his heart hurting at the thought.

Frustration slowly started to mix with the hurt he was feeling.

He started to list off everything he did, all the times he was there for you, all the times he held you up.

“I’ve been there for you more and more times than I can count! I’ve listened to you, I’ve been your shoulder to cry on, I’ve helped you through everything. I’ve supported you through the worst things, I’ve been at your side through it all… but you don’t see me as anything more than a friend? You can never love?”

It hurt him, it really hurt.

He couldn’t believe it. After all he’d done for you, he thought you’d start to see him differently, but everything was the same.

He cared too much about you, he’d do anything for you, but you still just saw him as a friend. His heart ached at the thought.

“Dick you.. you deserve better.” you said “And you’re very special to me please know that, Dick.”

“What do you mean I ‘deserve better’? I don’t want better.” he said, opening his eyes to look at you, “You’re perfect the way you are. I want you.”

“Dick, I’m sorry but I can't..”

Each word felt like another blow to his heart.

He felt desperate.

“Why not?” his voice almost raised slightly, “Why can’t you love me? What’s so wrong with me?”

“Nothing is wrong!” you held his wrist “You are a deal way too good for me.”

He felt you grab his wrist, and even thought the touch was supposed to be comforting, it made him even more frustrated.

“Stop saying stuff like that!” he said, his own voice raising slightly, “Stop acting like you’re no good. I tell you I love you, and you just act like you’re no good for anyone, especially me. What is it, exactly, that makes you think that?”

Tears swelled in your eyes “I’m me Dick! Why would you love someone like me? I’m fucked up.”

He was shocked when he saw tears welling up in your eyes.

Dick almost never saw you cry. It was a rare sight, and it made his heart hurt even more when he did.

He was still frustrated with you, and the fact that you kept saying how you didn’t deserve love upset him, but seeing you cry made it harder to stay mad.

He stepped even closer, only a few inches away from you, and gently took your face into his hands.

“You’re perfect Dick. Everyone loves you, Bruce, Tim, Babs- everyone! And.. and I’m me.” you closed your eyes letting the tears fall in your face.

He gently brushed his thumb against your cheek, wiping away a tear.

His heart ached as he heard you say those things.

“Stop it. Stop saying those things.” he said, his voice a bit softer now, “They don’t matter. You think I give a damn about any of that? I love you. All of you.”

You shook your head “I’m moving away from this damn city because I feel too pressured. I feel like everyone is watching me, afraid I’ll… mess up. Or do something wrong.”

You looked at his beautiful blue eyes “I can’t Dick, I’m sorry I don’t want to stay.”

As he looked at you, his heart ached.

He didn’t understand. He couldn’t understand.

Why couldn’t you see how much he loved you?

Why couldn’t you feel how much he wanted you?

It was painful to think that, no matter what he did, he was still just a friend to you.

But.. he wanted you to be happy. He cared for you too much to keep trying when he knew you didn’t feel the same.

He gently pulled his hands away from your face.

The sky was now a dark blue as the sun dipped below the horizon. It seemed that time had passed without him realizing it.

He had never felt so conflicted in his life.

Of course, he wanted to be selfish and make you stay, but he cared about you so much. More than you would ever know.

He silently stared at you for a few moments before he spoke again, his voice quiet, “I want you to be happy. I want things for you... But can I ask you for one thing?”

He was silent for a moment before he spoke.

“Promise me you’ll keep in contact?” he said, his voice still quiet, “Promise me we’ll still talk. Promise that you won’t just disappear.”

Your expression softens “Of course.”

He was glad that you weren’t going to cut him off completely.

Dick nodded, taking a short breath before he spoke again, “Good.”

He didn’t want to say goodbye. He didn’t want to admit that you were actually leaving, but he knew it would be the last time he would see you for a while.

He didn’t hesitate before he pulled you into a tight hug, wrapping his arms around you.

A year passed by, that year felt like an eternity to Dick.

He thought about you every single day. You were always in the back of his mind, whether he was fighting crime, hanging out with the family, or just doing everyday tasks.

He thought about how he wished you were still in Gotham. How he missed you. How much he wished things were different.

He began dating Barbara a few months after you left, hopeful that it would lessen his feelings for you.

And for a while, it did.

But, as time went on, he found himself thinking about you more often, even while dating her.

Deep down, he knew he was just trying to fill the hole in his heart that you left, and while Barbara was a good distraction, you were still the one on his mind.

There were many times when he was with her and his mind wandered and he thought of you, he compared her to you.

He couldn’t help it. He loved Barbara, but he still loved you more.

It was a freezing winter evening, and Dick had been anticipating your arrival for the past few days.

He was excited. He hadn't seen you in a year, and he's missed you dearly.

Meanwhile, you realized you were a fool for leaving. Your life wasn’t the same without your friends, especially Dick.

He had treated you so well and you just came and go.

You wanted to see him again, so you told the bat-fam you were visiting for Christmas.

Your sister Barbara was obviously excited, so as everyone else. But Dick? You weren’t sure what he felt.

You wanted to tell him what you actually felt, that you loved him.

So you prepared a gift and a letter of confession.

Your visit was a surprise to the whole Bat-family, especially to Dick.

He didn’t know quite how to feel when the news broke that you were coming back to Gotham for Christmas. On one hand, he was excited to see you again, but on the other, he was nervous.

Dick was in his apartment, watching TV, when the doorbell rang.

He was surprised, as he wasn't expecting anyone.

He got up and walked to the door, wondering who it could be, and when he opened it, his eyes widened as he saw you standing there.

You smiled “Hi Dick, merry christma-“

He immediately pulled you into a tight hug, practically scooping you up off your feet.

You were surprised by the hug and patted his shoulder “Missed you too??”

He didn’t answer, he just kept his arms around you, holding you close.

Dick was overwhelmed by his emotions. Seeing you, being able to hold you and actually feel you in his arms after over a year apart.

He was afraid to let go, afraid that if he did, he would realize that he was only dreaming, and you weren’t really there.

“Right.. put me down, big guy.” you sighed as he crushed you.

Dick sets you down, gently releasing you from his embrace.

He quickly closed the door behind you before he spoke again, “I wasn’t expecting you. You.. you should’ve told me you were visiting.”

You removed your coat and scarf “I wanted to surprise you.” you told him.

Dick followed you into the apartment, watching you remove your stuff before he spoke again.

“Well, mission accomplished.” he said, letting out a small chuckle before he spoke up again, “How long are you staying?”

He was a little upset to hear you were staying at a hotel, but he didn’t show it.

Dick crossed his arms, nodding as he spoke, “Have you talked to the rest of the fam yet?”

“Ah, they don’t know I’m already here.” you answered.

You paused for a moment “I just wanted to see you first.”

Dick raised an eyebrow at your answer, crossing his arms as he leaned against a wall.

“So you came to see me first? Why me?” he asked, tilting his head.

You paused for a moment “I just wanted to see you first.”

He was a bit surprised by your answer, but he didn’t question it any further.

Dick was a bit worried that there was a more serious reason as to why you came to see him first, but he was trying hard not to think about it.

“Oh yeah?” he said, a smirk appearing on his face, “Why? You miss me that much?”

You scoffed, crossing your arms “Don’t get it to your head.”

Dick couldn’t hold back a small laugh as he saw your reaction.

He knew you always hated giving him the attention he secretly loved.

“Oh, don’t lie to me,” he teased, grinning as he pushed himself off the wall, “You know you missed me.”

Your eyes trailed to a familiar coat on his armchair “Isn’t that Babs’ coat?” you grabbed the coat, inspecting it.

“Yeah... yeah, it is.” he said, suddenly feeling a bit uneasy.

You tilted your head “Why do you have it?”

Dick was a little nervous now, and it was clearly visible on his face.

He thought about just brushing it off, but he knew you’d keep questioning him until he told you the truth.

He let out a short sigh before he spoke.

“I’m dating her.” he suddenly said.

You perked up “Oh, that’s new. You didn’t tell me.” you nervously chuckled.

You felt your heart sink, he was dating Babs now? Why didn’t he tell you?

When he saw your reaction, he could immediately tell that you were a little hurt.

He knew he should’ve told you. He knew he should’ve reached out to you and told you that he had started dating Babs.

He didn’t like seeing you upset, but he didn’t know what to say.

“I just kind of forgot.” he said, trying to explain himself.

You put up a smile “It’s fine, you’re happy at least?”

Dick could tell you weren’t genuinely happy for him, but he didn’t want to keep talking about it.

He smiled slightly and nodded in response to your question.

“Yeah, she makes me pretty happy.” he said, rubbing the back of his neck.

You looked at his face, you softened a bit. Maybe he is happy.

Your fake smile turned to a genuine one “Well, treat her well. She’s my awesome sister after all.”

You grabbed your bag and tried to look for something, you took the gift from your bag and quickly removed the note attached to it.

“It’s for you.” you handed out a blue gift box.

He took the box, looking at the wrapping.

“Me? But Christmas isn’t until another week.” he said jokingly.

He took the box, looking at the wrapping.

“Me? But Christmas isn’t until another week.” he said jokingly.

“Oh, just take it. Do you want me to give you one with coal?” you remarked.

He chuckled slightly, shaking his head.

“No, I’m good. I don’t like coal.” he said, his eyes shifting back to the gift box in his hands.

“Can I open it?”

“Of course, it’s your gift. Do whatever.” you replied.

Dick gave you a nod before he began to unwrap the gift, carefully removing the decorative wrapping paper.

He tried his best not to tear it, but he eventually got it all off.

He then lifted the lid of the box slowly, peeking inside.

It was a photo album. He wasn’t sure what to expect.

He picked it up and began flipping through the pages, his eyes widening as he saw the contents.

“Is this..” he said, looking up at you, “Are these pictures of us?”

“Some of the bat-fam.. some of the titans.. but mostly us yeah.”

Dick was amazed to see so many pictures of the two of you together.

He continued to flip through the pages, looking at every photo and remembering the moments where they were taken.

He smiled as he looked at you, “This is incredible... where’d you get all these?”

“I tried to find every single photo with you in it, I managed to fill out the whole thing so I guess I did a good job.” you smirked.

Dick was impressed by the effort you had put into getting all these pictures.

He knew it would’ve taken hours to find all of them.

He smiled as he turned the page, seeing a picture of both of you together with the rest of the Titans.

“Damn, I remember this day. We went to the fair, and Victor got us kicked out.” he chuckled.

You pointed on one picture “Remember this? We went fishing with Bruce and Kate.”

Dick chuckled softly at the memory.

“Yeah, I remember that day. It was supposed to just be a boys day, but Kate decided she wanted to go too.” he said, looking at the picture of the three of them holding up their catch.

As Dick continued to flip through the pages, looking at the hundreds of photos you had collected, he suddenly remembered something.

“Wait, I actually got something for you too.” he said, suddenly setting the photo album down.

He looked around the living room for a few seconds before his eyes settled on a small, wrapped gift sitting on the coffee table.

He grabbed it and handed it to you, “I didn’t wrap it as nicely as you did with yours, but here.”

Dick was watching your reaction closely, waiting to see how you would react to his present.

Once the gift was unwrapped, you would see that he had gotten you a necklace; a black chain with a single charm attached.

You clicked your tongue “You know I don’t like expensive stuff Dick.” you glared.

Dick chuckled slightly, crossing his arms.

“Who said it’s expensive? Just because it’s shiny, doesn’t mean it’s expensive.” he joked.

“Besides, it couldn’t have been that much, it’s tiny.” he added, gesturing to the charm at the end of the chain.

You looked at the charm “Is this a Robin?” you asked.

Dick smiled as you recognized the charm, nodding in confirmation.

“Yeah, it is. I thought it was pretty cool, plus, y’know..” he trailed off, gesturing to a small engraving on the front of the charm.

Upon closer inspection, you would be able to read the inscription, which read:

“To my best friend.”

You stared at it then softly smiled “I love it.”

“Here, turn around. I’ll help you put it on.” he said, stepping a bit closer to you.

You obliged, turning around so your back was facing him.

Dick carefully took the necklace from you, holding the jewelry in his hands before he reached around and placed it around your neck, fastening the clasp in the back.

Once he was done, he took a step back and looked at you with a grin on his face.

“It looks great on you.” he said, admiring the way the necklace looked on you.

“I don’t think I’ll take it off.” you said “No one’s gonna help me put this on when I remove it.” a hint of sadness in your tone.

He took a step closer again, his gaze softening as he spoke.

“Just don’t lose it, okay? This is a one-of-a-kind, custom piece.” he joked, trying to make you smile.

You did smile, “I won't.” you softly said.

“There’s something else I want to say.” Dick takes your hand.

He holds your hand tightly, looking into your eyes with a serious expression.

“I love Babs, but my love for you is different. It’s not the same with her.”

“It’s deeper,” he says.

“And it’s more painful.”

“And I think it always will be.” he adds, his grip tightening on your hand.

He takes a deep breath before he speaks again, his voice low and steady.

“I guess what I’m trying to say is… I love you. And I don’t think I can ever stop loving you.”

You couldn’t say anything, instead you pulled him in a hug.

Dick was surprised as you suddenly pulled him into a hug, but he immediately wrapped his arms around you.

He let out a shaky breath, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

“I fell too late, didn't I?” you closed your eyes.

Dick’s heart sank as you spoke, and he held you even tighter.

He didn’t have to answer your question, you both knew what his answer was.

Instead, he just held you close in silence for several moments before he spoke again.

“I’m sorry.” he managed to say, his voice strained.

“Don’t break Babs’ heart, be good to her.”

Dick nodded slightly, feeling guilty as he realized how hurt Babs would be if she knew this was happening.

He squeezed you tighter, his voice growing shaky as he spoke.

“I will. I promise.”

Years have passed, you moved to bludhaven.

You were getting better than you thought you would, you looked at your fruit bowl and realized you were almost out of apples.

You got up, took your keys and headed to the grocery store.

As you headed to the fruit section, you felt someone bump into you.

“Oops sorry-“ you looked at the man you bumped, it was Dick.

Dick's eyes met yours, and surprise flashed across his face when he realized it was you.

He hadn’t expected to run into you here.

“(Name)? Is that you?” he asked in disbelief, a small smile pulling at the corner of his mouth.

You smiled back “Dick, hello.”

Dick couldn’t help but smile wider as you said his name.

He took a few steps forward, moving closer to you.

“It’s been a while, I didn’t know you were living in Bludhaven now.” he said, still a bit surprised to see you here.

“I got a better job here.” you replied, you felt so happy to see him again.

“That’s great to hear.” he said.

Your eyes trailed to the ring on his hand “You’re married?” your eyes widened.

He nodded in response to your question, his expression turning somewhat somber.

“Yeah, I am.” he confirmed, his voice becoming quieter.

“I’m proud of you.”

Dick’s heart ached a bit as you said you were proud of him, knowing that you were probably feeling just as much pain as he was.

But he forced a smile onto his face, trying to put on a brave front.

“Thank you.” he said, his voice softer than before.

You sheepishly rubbed your neck “Changed my phone number, sorry if I didn’t respond to anything. I lost my phone, you see.”

“I was wondering why I hadn’t heard from you.” he said, a hint of sadness in his voice, “I was worried you had moved on or something.”

The two of you kept talking, walking around isle’s while getting the things you both needed.

You weren’t even supposed to buy anything else.

The two of you would be paying in different cards.

The food the two of you ate will be finished by different people.

Next time, you felt like buying blueberries.

You never saw him again.

Dick often found himself going to that supermarket, hoping that he would run into you again.

He’d find himself lingering at the fruit section for several minutes each time, eyes scanning the produce in hopes of spotting you.

But you were never there.

He would always tell himself that it was for the best and that it was good that he hadn’t seen you again.

But deep down, he missed you every day.

Maybe in another life, he’d be eating burgers with you again.

end note: half of this story is true, i miss my best friend. I hope he’s okay 😢

[kneelingshadowsalome]

Christian Woman

(König x Nun!Reader)

Word count: 5.2 k Summary: Yup it’s König with a Virgin!Nun!Reader folks. This is all @wordstome 's and @melancholic-thing 's and their König & religion post's fault! :( Tags/warnings: PINING. Eventual smut, eventual blood & minor injuries. A cute, sweet, silly story with undertones of religious despair. Watch out for possible mistakes concerning Catholicism, I was more interested in the forbidden love trope.

Part 1

You don’t know how it even happened, but you became friends with a foreign man visiting your city. 

You bumped into him one day. Literally bumped into him, or then he bumped into you; you’re not entirely sure who’s to blame here, but you would’ve fallen to the ground had he not grabbed you by the arm and hauled you back up and against him. 

It was just to prevent you from hurting yourself, but your mind short circuits for a moment when you’re pressed against the broadest chest you’ve ever seen. The man is tall, so tall you have to crane your neck to see who has such lightning-fast reflexes.

Worried eyes look down at you from above, but the man’s expression softens when he sees how frightened you look.

“I’m so sorry. Are you ok?”

“Yes… Yes, I’m fine, thank you.”

He starts to fuss about being in such a hurry without any particular reason and asks if he can make this up for you somehow.

Could he offer you a lunch or something? No, how about a drink? He’s truly so sorry.

His accent is charming, and the genuine regret and worry make you quickly judge him as a safe enough person to grab a coffee with. Accidents happen, and it’s not illegal to sit down with a man you just met, right?

You tell him you don’t drink drinks, but a coffee would be nice. The man raises an eyebrow when you reveal to him that you’re not only a teetotaler, you’re also a nun. 

“Ah… So you prefer a simple life?” 

He takes you to a dark, cosy cafe around the corner. His inquiry leads to a conversation on the joys of silence and simplicity, then on philosophy, faith, and the cons of modern life. By the time he grabs you a table for two, you’re already discussing how people are always on their smartphones nowadays, looking for instant gratification and pleasures and how it wrecks their brains. You both gush about how nice it is to steer away from all that. 

You find yourself talking to him with ease about your life choices. How the anxiety reached a point where you wanted to get away from all the fuss, and how much peace this solution has brought you. How you have meaning and purpose these days, and how you doubt you’d be able to adjust into a modern society anymore. He gets what you mean immediately, saying he only feels at home when he’s alone in the mountains. How he’s been alone his whole life, really, and that it doesn’t scare him anymore, on the contrary.

You feel warm and safe with him, lost inside a soft bubble you quickly create in the corner table of a cellar cafe. Perhaps it’s the dimly lit environment or perhaps it’s just him, but you have one of the deepest conversations ever with this mysterious man.

He’s attentive and curious without being your usual pervert on the sly. You’ve had enough of men looking at you like you’re the forbidden fruit after hearing about your life choices. 

This man doesn’t try to seduce his way into your pants; he listens to your insights and agrees with you on how silence does you good, especially in times like this. You wonder what he does for work and why he’s here because clearly, he’s not local. You never get to ask him because the conversation ends far too quickly. 

He receives a message on his phone, cruelly reminding you that the magical bubble has burst and you’re back in the modern world. He looks crabby about the interruption too, especially when he says he has to go.

You both agree that you had a nice talk and should continue it sometime – why not tomorrow? Same time, same place.

So you meet him again. 

And again… And again. 

You find out he’s in town for at least two weeks, but when he finally reveals what he does for work, your stomach sinks. He tells you he’s working for some private military contractor and can’t really share any details about his work. When you ask him does this mean that he kills people for money, he falls silent.

“I guess you could put it like that.”

He’s looking at his shoes when he says it, somewhat embarrassed or sad. His feet barely fit under the table, so he has them stretched out, leading to a waitress almost tripping on them one day. Your heart is squeezing inside your chest when he rises immediately and apologises like the perfect gentleman, helps the lady up and never gets insulted by the murderous glares the woman shoots at him. 

He gives you his codename, König, and that he comes from Austria, but then refuses to share any other personal details. You don’t even get to know his first name. You do talk about your childhood, you talk about your schools and what you were supposed to become when you grew up. He tells you about his love for hiking, and you tell him about your dance hobby. 

The usual “Oh? Nuns are allowed to dance?” comment has you laughing. 

“Well… I don’t do twerking, but yes, nuns are allowed to dance.”

“What’s ‘twerking’?”

It’s so funny how you seem to know about modern trends more than him. You know about Tinder and TikTok through your friends; it’s just that these things are really not for you. Still, this König knows even less about dating apps and internet challenges than you. 

It makes you intrigued: he could have dozens of women right now if he wanted to. And not only because he’s attentive and kind: he’s so big and tall that most women would beg him to whisk them away. All he needed to do was go to a hookup site and deal out some likes. 

Most of his muscles are packed in the shoulders and chest area, making it challenging for him to fit through a door. You can see he hasn’t skipped a leg day either, and immediately chastise yourself for checking out his butt in the coffee queue. You ignore your filthy thoughts of wanting to get pressed against those pecs again, you pay no attention to the fleeting musings on how good that short stubble would feel against your neck if he ever chose to kiss you there.

A soldier and a nun make an odd pair, but you find yourself enjoying his company more than anyone elses. He seems to wait for your meetings with eager but polite enthusiasm, too. You know it’s an attempt to make you forgive his choice of career when he reveals to you that his best mission was when he saved thirty women from sex trafficking. And it does make your heart crack open a little. Killing is a sin, but he has tried to protect life in his own crude way.

You start to include him in your prayers. First, you ask for the Lord to guide this man away from the path of killing. Then, slowly, you ask him to be protected from harm, you only pray for him to be safe. 

And you say nothing of this new acquaintance to the others. You ought to, but your lips remain sealed.

You’re allowed to have friends and visit them, and it doesn’t matter if the friend is of the opposite sex as long as the meetings are purely platonic. Which they are. This man could be your brother, you tell yourself. He could be a long-distance cousin. There’s nothing fishy going on around here, and he’s just visiting, so why would you bother to tell anyone? It would only lead to troubled sighs and concerned questions, and you really don’t feel like answering them right now.

You miss a few midday prayers, and once, your chores. The relationship turns out to be far from platonic.

König can’t even keep his eyes in check. 

They travel down your neck and land on the smallest amount of cleavage, barely visible in the loose, dull shirts you wear. They slip further down and stop to admire your breasts next, then quickly rise back to your collarbones as if this was just a mistake, just an absent, wandering gaze. You know you’re wearing a semi-helpless stare by the time he meets your eyes. The blue steel in his is completely swallowed by hunger.

You want to believe it was only a momentary lapse, but then he does it again. Actually, you catch him looking at your breasts, scanning your body and cherishing the tender spot between your collarbones more times than you can count. They’re quick, stolen moments, so harmless that you choose to stay quiet. He usually starts to talk about something trivial right after, or asks you a quick question as if nothing ever happened.

Those stolen glimpses stay with you for the rest of the day though. They give you intrusive thoughts during morning prayers and evening silence. You’ve never felt this… adored.

He has a quiet, commanding presence, and you feel like a mouse under his gaze, a mouse who’s always thoroughly examined. At the same time, he’s so polite and so charming that you can’t think ill of him. He always takes your coat and brings you coffee, always asks how your day or week has been, and actually listens to you speak. He listens to your every word with a softening glow in his eyes, a shimmer that spreads across the table and makes you feel warm all over. 

König always softens in your presence... You always tense up in his. 

Your face is flushed, and you blame it on the overcrowded cafe. You feel both safe and in danger with him, and it must be the virgin inside you talking. But you sense there’s something more at play here. He’s simply not like other men. 

You fear he’s seen hell; in fact, he must walk there every day. From what he tells you, you understand that he has suffered a lot and could use your prayers. But it’s also quite clear that he’s not a victim anymore. 

It’s difficult to see this utterly charming teddy bear in front of you, enjoying his large cup of coffee and giving you the occasional husky laugh, then imagine the same man bursting through a door and starting a massacre. Marching in some dark, dirty recess with a rifle or a shotgun in his hands, hunting down screaming people and putting down his already bleeding enemies.

Because that’s what you imagine in your mind when he tells you he’s sometimes used as an insertion specialist; a human battering ram in short.

You look at his hands around the mug, long fingers curled in search of warmth. He has short, trimmed nails and no sign of blood under them… But that doesn’t mean it’s not there.

…

"Oh honey. Soldiers are the worst," your friend sighs when you meet her at another cafe, different from where you meet your killing machine. It’s bubbly and lively and colourful, just like your friend; it’s the opposite of König, the special operations soldier who’s dark, intriguing, and intimate, just like the dimly lit cellar cafe you meet him in secret.

"He probably owns a Fleshlight," she mumbles with her mouth full of croissant.

"A… A what?"

She starts to cough at your innocent inquiry, and you know you didn’t hear ‘flashlight’ in the first place, it’s just that you’re not sure if you want to know what on earth she’s talking about now.

When she finally survives the munch she almost choked on, she politely tells you what a fleshlight is, and you find yourself not rolling your eyes, but actually thinking about König using one with need.

Christ have mercy…

"Soldiers are crazy. I once dated this peacekeeper,” your friend continues in her usual chirpy way. “Couldn't hold a conversation for his life. Unless it was about guns... And when I went over to his place, the walls were covered with pictures of naked women. It was so pathetic I had to keep myself from laughing. And oh god, now I remember! He offered me microwaved mac and cheese for dinner…"

You sip your coffee and listen politely to your friend ramble about some guy she used to date. She has a lot of these stories, and all of them are worth hearing. Sometimes you think if you’re living your unlived sex life through your friend, the way you’re so curious about hearing all the different descriptions of male genitalia and the crazy, funny, downright unbelievable scenarios that have happened to her. 

Some of the tales are so gross you’re quite happy you haven’t indulged yourself in casual sex. And at times, hearing about all the things your friend has gone through, being an onlooker to all that heartbreak and pining and loss, has managed to strengthe your resolve.

Being a nun isn’t so bad... At least you haven’t wasted your time on shallow men.

"He put so much chili in that shit that my makeup started to run," she continues her story about the poor excuse for a dinner and a date. Usually, the food leads to sex in these tales, and you’re a hypocrite for wanting to hear more.

"Did you sleep with him…?"

"After that? No thanks," she looks at you and raises an eyebrow. "I pretty much fled the building."

Even the most sad, pathetic, crappy tales make you both laugh, especially if enough time has passed. You laugh now, too, both at your friend falling for a man simply because he was a hot soldier and at the poor man who was in obvious need of an interior designer and a cook. Or a girlfriend… Or a mom.

"Look. I'm saying this because you're my friend." She says after wiping a few tears from her eyes, "And because you’re a virgin and a goddamn nun. Like come on, how many years have you been locked up in that dreadful monastery?"

"Convent," you correct.

"Whatever. I'm telling you this man is just looking for some easy pussy while he's deployed."

“I wouldn't call a nun an easy…ugh, you know.”

“Perhaps he likes a challenge then, “ she shrugs. “Men like to hunt.”

"It’s not like that,” you quarrel, trying to ignore the way her lips purse with amusement. “He's been very nice to me and… we have these great conversations. We talk about really deep stuff, you know? He explained the difference between Schopenhauer and Kierkegaard to me last time we met–"

"Ok, that's even worse. That's a red flag."

You look down at your beverage, sullen and beaten. She’s the first person you’ve told about meeting a man over a coffee, and you’re already doing it wrong.

"Does he ever look at your tits?" She asks all of a sudden.

"What?"

Your friend crosses her arms over her chest and tilts her head, looking like an overly self-satisfied detective.

"Do you ever catch him staring at your breasts," she rephrases the question as if she’s talking to a lame person.

"Well… Uh. Yes, sometimes–"

"Well there you have it. Man's just bored with his fleshlight."

"Shh! Keep it down, would you…? Good God..."

"Don't take the name of the lord your god in vain," she chimes. “But seriously, it’s no wonder. If only we could get you out of that convent, there would be a line of men at your door.”

“Oh for God’s sake…”

“No, seriously. We’re talking about fistfights and broken bones. Dating apps would explode. People would get killed.”

You roll your eyes - your friend always loves to exaggerate things. If anything, you’re scared of men, and you loathe the dating world. You’re put off by shallow commitments and one-night stands and getting ghosted and God knows what else. That’s why you became a nun: to find something stable in your life. You always told your friend that Jesus Christ is the most stable man you’ve ever met, and you will stick with him. As always, your friend was not on the same page with you.

“Stable? Excuse me, but didn’t he start a riot or something at the temple? Are we talking about the same dude who lead an uprising against the Romans? Hung out with whores, raised corpses from the dead, fucked around and found out until someone nailed him at the cross? Stable my ass!”

“Look, even if he wants something more, I’m not up for it,” you try to convince - both yourself and your friend.

“Mm. What a shame,” she smirks. “Is he handsome?”

“Yes, but–”

“Mmh. Deep voice?”

“Umm… It’s memorable?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I don’t know,” you cry. “Okay fine, it’s nice and deep and I like it. And I love his laugh,” you confess, and your friend does a silent little ‘yay’ and ‘I knew it’ cheer. You know it would be a field day for her if you finally got laid. As cliche as it sounds, you’ve always treated your friend as some sort of devil’s advocate.

You allow yourself to gush a minute, maybe two, about his muscles to your beloved devil. You tell your friend about his broad back, how wide his shoulders are, you tell her about the easy smiles he always sports with you. You describe the tactical pants and the snug black t-shirts he wears in detail, you confess he has a nice butt and that he’s so big he can't even fit the table. 

You tell her how König starts to talk with his hands if he gets excited and how you have to fear he’s going to knock something over and make a mess. You tell about his blue eyes and the way they always soften when he looks at you, and looks at you often. All the time, really. He doesn’t even see other women, uh, you mean, other people in the cafe. He’s polite to the waitresses but never fully acknowledges anyone else but you.

Your friend's enthusiastic grin turns into an uneasy, pitying smile when she realises how deep into this man you actually are. 

"I'm sorry babe… Someone has to give you the tough love," she reaches for your hand across the table. "Do you understand that if this guy is not working for the regular military, he's probably doing some war crime type of shit?"

The way you rush to defend your steadfast soldier who probably has his hands covered in blood, would make your abbess sigh.

"No, no, actually, he's working against these human trafficking cells–"

"Ok, he shoots human traffickers too, that's great. Good for him. You're still about to step into a pile of traumatised, immature, emotionally unavailable soldier shit. Trust me."

"Just because your soldier was like that doesn't mean mine has to be," you blurt.

Gosh - that was a good old Freudian slip...

"Yours now, is he?"

"No, that was… It just slipped."

"So you've actually thought about banging this guy?"

"What?! No."

"You have," she insists with a widening smile.

"No. No, I–"

"Oh my god. You're about to forsake your vows," she brings her hands together in excitement. "Oh my god, oh my god. This is amazing!"

You feel your lips snap into a thin line.

Just whose side is this woman on? Does she want to protect you from heartbreak or push you into some man's lap just for shits and giggles? 

If you're chosen by God, your friend is chosen by the Devil, that's for sure. Nothing exciting ever happens behind the walls of your 'monastery', nothing but endless prayers and boring lectures and monotonous chores. Of course she thinks it's about time you got a round of good dick. She just wants to hear a filthy story when you return from your secret little fling, a fling that could get you kicked out of the convent for good. 

"How tall is he exactly...? Does he have big hands?" 

Your friend's eyes are shining with excitement - apparently the possible war crimes and atrocities König has committed are forgiven and forgotten.

"What does that have to do with anything…?" 

"I can tell you what to expect in the dick department," she smiles with an impish grin.

You eventually leave the cafe with a dirty soul and a skittish heart.

The way your friend described your new acquaintance's probable blessings in the "dick department" left little to the imagination, and now you're actually scared. 

This man has been so polite towards you, so kind to you. He's offered you coffee and pastries and cake along with an intellectual challenge, but now it's all ruined because all you can think about is what's inside his pants. How big his hands are, and how they correlate with what's downstairs. How nice it would feel to lay under him, with his chest pressed against yours, how divine it would be to get pinned down by him. How those strong, narrow hips would fit between your legs, broad shoulders eclipsing the view above as he slowly crawls on top of you. How he'd kiss your neck, your collarbones, your mouth, with such hunger that your legs eventually give in and spread wide open.

You return to the convent with a heavy heart and distressed thoughts, but find some solace in your evening prayers.

Nothing has happened, you remind yourself; these are only thoughts. You have seen a man who's interested in you for half a dozen times. You took part in a shallow, mundane, earthly conversation today with your friend, but nothing carnal or wrong has happened. Everything is the way it has always been.

You’re safe now, completely safe here. There’s no chaos and no guns and no tall men with big dicks, no Austrian war criminals trying to seduce you and then discard you after their deployment ends. 

There’s only a man with a kind smile, warm eyes, and a nice, husky laugh. Some good coffee with distant notes of chocolate and perfectly civil conversations about European philosophers and the crisis of modern thought.

Sturdy walls support you; they have held you for centuries, and the crucifix above you has given hope to so many people before you. The ever-safe embrace of your faith envelops you, and you can always trust that you are loved, even when you’re flawed and incomplete.

Even with indecent thoughts, you can pray for mercy and ask for forgiveness. Even if you have impure urges towards your Austrian mercenary, you can still pray for him... It’s the least you can do to repay the kindness he has given you.

But the heaviness follows you to your room; it makes your chest feel dark and thick. You don’t say your last prayer before bed. You don’t want His eyes upon you tonight.

You don’t want to draw the Lord’s attention to you while your hand travels down beneath the sheets, your thoughts wandering to a certain god-like soldier with eyes like burning ice.

…

The next time you two meet, he crosses a clear boundary. 

König has started to take you for walks, sometimes suggesting you two could visit a museum, clearly wishing you’d show him around the city. In truth, he’s the one parading you around like you’re his cute little lady. He pays for your museum tickets and brings you ice cream while you sit on a bench at a park, grabs your arm to draw your attention to a few swans swimming in a pond. And that’s ok - physical touch like that is ok. Holding hands is not.

Because…

One time, when you’re walking down a hill path, admiring the sunset, a big, warm hand wraps itself around yours. 

It finds you in silence, envelops your tiny palm completely, squeezes you softly and emanates so much heat that a cord of fire shoots across your arm and straight into your heart.

You allow yourself to bask in the warmth of the huge, calloused palm for a few more seconds before ripping your hand away. You take a few hurried steps and turn, noticing he has stopped to look at you with guarded hesitation.

“I’m sorry,” you apologise even if König is the one who went off limits, “but this is not appropriate.”

“Entschuldigung… I know. That was out of bounds,” he raises a hand over his heart and bows his head a little, watching you from under his brows. You could keel over from how the gesture reminds you of Arthurian romances, of knights who place their hand on their heart to swear they’ll never disgrace a lady again. 

Instead, you nod, your soul saved but your heart sinking like an anvil dropped in the sea. You’d want nothing more than for him to do it again, to grab your hand in his and never let go.

The rest of the walk happens in awkward silence, and you thought he would keep his distance - Christ, you thought you would keep your distance - but he insists on walking near to you, and so you continue down the path with your fingers still touching each other every now and then. You don't even try to move your hand away.

I’m going to die, you scream internally while looking at the bleeding sunset in the distance. You can’t look at him; you can’t even talk to him. It’s like your body is pumped full of some drug these days.

Falling for someone so hard is making you feel faint; your insides are churning and turning and your brain is a mess. Your heart is racing so fast that you’re afraid you’ll end up having a heart attack one of these days.

He’s probably used to this: the thrill and the adrenaline, a world laced with rush and extremes, indulging in things such as guns and explosions and blood and women and darkness.

You only have your safe routines, your sisters, a few friends you meet over coffee, a family you visit thrice a year. You’re not used to being bombarded with hormones and raw emotion like this. You have never, ever lusted after a man like this. The only thing you ever craved for was another slice of cake.

“Do you still want to see me?” He asks apologetically when you approach the convent which has now started to resemble a frigid, uneventful prison.

“Of course,” you hurry to say. “Just… No more holding hands. Ok?”

“Ok,” he chuckles softly, and you stop and turn.

He’s never been this near to where you live, and you’re afraid someone will see you if he escorts you to the door. You can’t be seen with a man in your current state, that would be a catastrophe. Anyone in the building could tell that this friendship is far from platonic.

“I’m sure you’ll find some other girl to… hold hands with,” you say, hating how bitter and self-pitying you sound. You even swallow when you look up into his eyes. They’re so soft now that the ice has almost disappeared, devoured by longing, a thick and sinful darkness.

“What if I don’t want some other girl?” 

His voice is so wickedly gentle too.

You can see he’s fighting an inner battle to not touch you again; he’s standing toe to toe with you, towering above you, with his shoulders slightly hunched. If someone walked behind him, they wouldn’t even see you’re there because of how close you two are standing to each other. You can’t back away from him because you’d bump into a tall iron gate - in fact, you’re half-pressed against it now. 

“I’ve enjoyed our conversations,” he continues with a throaty voice. God, how you would melt if he used that voice in bed…

“So have I,” your voice comes out as a wavy whisper. “But there can’t be anything more than that... I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry too,” he laments, but the corner of his mouth curves slightly up. “So sorry you wouldn’t even believe…”

It’s mischief and seduction, darkness and deception, and your insides squeeze into a tight little knot.

“Please… Let’s just keep it the way it was,” you plead with eyes that beg the complete opposite.

“Sure... I will try my best, Kätzchen. Is this your convent…?” 

You wonder if he’d pay you a visit if you told him where you sleep. You wonder if your single bed would creak if he tried to make love to you on it... You wonder if you could muffle your cries when you clenched with him inside you. If he’d groan too loudly when he reached his peak…

“It’s just around that corner,” you explain with a frail voice, hating how it betrays every single thing that crosses your mind.

“Good to know,” he replies, with no shakiness to his voice at all. He seems to enjoy making you so flustered; he seems to draw strength from people weaker than him. Which is probably 99 % of the population…

“How so,” you peep, already praying that he wouldn’t come to try his luck with the poorly locked windows. The back door is always open too because some of the nuns are smokers. König wouldn’t even need to use his insertion skills to get in.

“Now I know where to find you if I come to work here again,” he shrugs as if innocent. As if his eyes didn’t betray a few filthy thoughts too.

“Are you… Are you leaving then?”

“Soon.”

Your heart is about to break after two weeks of knowing some random guy, and you feel like the silliest woman in the world.

You try to remind yourself of what your friend said: this man just wants some easy pussy. He’s just bored with his fleshlight. Men like challenges, they like to hunt. You think about Lucky Luke and all the other cowboys who came and went as they pleased, breaking hearts and then riding into the sunset.

This cowboy only got to hold your hand though... And he’s saying he doesn’t want “some other girl”. Of course there’s a chance that he simply visits a brothel after discussing philosophy with you, or goes to a club or whatever, but you don’t want to entertain such horrible thoughts. 

“I’ll miss you, then,” you try to sound neutral while he’s looking down at you like you’re his first love.

“Ganz sicher, I will miss you too. Perhaps I’ll visit you, work trip or not?”

“That would be nice.”

“It might take a while. But you won’t forget me, ja?”

“Of course not. I will pray for you every day,” you smile with a good amount of affection. It has the same effect as saying something like “I want to blow you right here on this street” because your Austrian giant gets visibly excited. His breath quickens, and his eyes start to wander again. 

“...Are you sure I can’t hold your hand?”

You give him a shy smile, then quickly guide your eyes to the pavement. This König is definitely taking it as some love confession when a girl says she will pray for him. Your insides turn to jello when you see his hand close into a loose fist, then open with a spasmlike stretch. He wants to touch you so badly that he has to physically fight against it.

“No…?” He inquires high above you, so desperate that you’re quite sure he’s not frequenting any brothels in the area. He might stroke his cock to the thoughts of you, though…

You shake your head softly, then raise your eyes back to his. What a silly, silly man. If only you weren’t a nun, you’d let him do whatever he wants with you. Even abandon you after using you in every which way, because to be under that adoring gaze is worth a thousand heartbreaks.

“I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

There’s more desperate hope in that question, and you wonder if tomorrow is the last time you’ll see each other. Soon could mean anything, but you can’t bear to hear the exact time and date when he leaves. Not tonight.

“Yes. Same time, same place,” you agree, then flee from under the dark, adoring stare to the safety of your cloister.��

[lovecla]

TAKE IT EASY (OTHERWISE I’M LEAVING) | connor bedard.

© property of lovecla, nhl masterlist, single chapter:

ᡣ𐭩 — pair: connor bedard x fmc (olivia)

ᡣ𐭩 — synopsis: in which connor bedard’s girlfiend, olivia, is tired of seeing her boyfriend destroy himself every single day.

ᡣ𐭩 — word count: 3.1k

ᡣ𐭩 — chapter warnings: inspired by the song “you” by chase atlantic, angst, hurt with a dash of comfort.

ᡣ𐭩 — from me to you: the second chase atlantic released this album i knew i had to write something inspired by it. i missed writing for bedsy and since he’s our golden, hardworking boy, i thought this was very fitting. hope u like it 🤍

ᯓᡣ𐭩

but you've been diggin' up the truth

haven't slept in like four nights now

blame it on substance abuse

out in the deep end, i'm swimmin', i'm swimmin' again

YOU WOKE up startled with the loud bang coming from somewhere inside your apartment, your whole body jumping and your heart starting to race inside your chest.

Now, almost fully awake, you stare at the clock sitting on your bedside table, reading the time. 4:13 a.m., and when you pat the other side of the bed, where your boyfriend of two years should be laying, you frown as you find it empty and lukewarm to the touch.

“Connor?” You whisper, scared to wake him up unnecessarily, even if you knew he wasn’t lying with you in bed. Again.

You get up, the fabric of his old Blackhawks sweater heating up your skin, as you put on your slippers and leave the bedroom, noticing traces of Connor’s absence here and there— his slippers aren’t by his side of the bed, his duffel bag isn’t on the hallway like it usually is, his water bottle isn’t on the couch like he had left it last night, when you both went no sleep at one in the morning.

So that’s why you don’t understand what he’s doing by the front door, ready to leave, even if he had only slept for three hours.

“Connor?” You call again, watching as his blue eyes look at you, surprise and guilt decorating his expression like a famous painting hanging on the Louvre’s wall. “What are you doing?”

Your voice is still soft, and despite the scare, your eyes can barely stay open. You’re tired, tonight was the first night you had allowed yourself to sleep freely since now you were done with your exams. And you were happy because you managed to convince Connor to come home earlier, at eleven instead of midnight, just so you could spend some time together, like you used to do when you started dating.

“Liv, hey,” he whispers, adjusting his bag on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

That’s when you realize what he’s doing. The bag, the stick on his hand, the outfit. He’s—

“Are you serious right now?” You take a deep breath, trying to maintain your composure. “You’re going to the rink? At four in the morning?”

“Baby, you know I need to,” he tries to sound convincing and if it wasn’t for the fact that this is probably the hundredth time he’s done this, you would’ve actually believed him. “We have a game coming up and—”

“Yes, I am well aware of that, Connor. But you went to sleep at one. Two nights ago, you also went to sleep at one and woke up at five. And the night before, and the night before that too.”

You don’t try to hide your feelings anymore. You want him to know you’re upset, and you want him to know that this, whatever the hell he’s doing, isn’t okay.

“I know, baby, but you know I have to keep practicing so I can help the guys.” He’s now facing you, his body visibly tense.

“That doesn’t even make sense, Connor, what the hell. There are other twenty fucking people in your team, you’re not the only player there. It’s not your responsibility only!” You cover your face with your hands, truly upset.

“Liv,” he calls your name, and it hurts to even hear it, because his voice is so full of guilt and shame. It makes you feel sick. “You’re not being reasonable right now. This is the NHL. You know how hard I’ve worked for this. There are people counting on me.”

“And I’m not one of them?” You whisper, making eye contact again, only to realize you’re not strong enough to have this conversation at four in the morning.

“Liv—”

“It’s fine, Connor. Go to practice.” You sigh, making your way back to the bedroom, praying that he doesn’t notice the tears running down your cheeks.

ᯓᡣ𐭩

you said, "take it easy, otherwise i'm leaving

yeah, i don't wanna stay and watch you die",

ᯓᡣ𐭩

CONNOR HAD an injury.

His jaw had been fractured, and he had to go to surgery to fix it. You were in the arena watching the game with Connor’s sister when it happened, and you had never been so scared.

You know Hockey is about hitting people as much as it is about playing and winning, but you won’t lie and say your heart doesn’t hurt inside your chest whenever you see Connor getting hurt on the ice.

And you aren’t dumb. You know that some players will purposefully hurt him just because he’s good. And even if people aren’t one hundred percent sure that that is what happened that night, you still remember the terrible feeling of losing when you were in the ambulance with Connor to the hospital, trying your hardest not to cry in front of anyone because you know what they would say.

She’s not tough enough to date a NHL player.

But you believed yourself to be tough. The only problem with all of this is that you knew Bedard would never take great care of himself, meaning that you’d have to be with him twenty-four-seven, which wouldn’t be a problem, if only he accepted your help.

Now, four weeks after the surgery, you’re inside the United Center, the Blackhawks arena in Chicago, stomping your feet as you walk towards the rink, the sound of your steps being muffled by Connor’s constant skating.

“Connor.”

You have to call him a few times so that he can finally get out of his head and look at you; once again, those blameworthy eyes looking down at you, as he skates closer to the benches where you were standing.

“Liv.”

“What do you think you’re doing, Connor?” You snap. “You’re supposed to be resting. You’re definitely not supposed to be on the ice.”

“I know, but my jaw is just fine. It doesn’t even hurt anymore.” He removes his helmet, running his gloved hand through his hair.

“It didn’t seem like it was fine last night when you had to swallow a bunch of pain pills because it was hurting. Connor, don’t you see what you’re doing to yourself?” You can feel your face heating up, and you’re trying so hard to keep your shit together but— “You have to allow your body to rest. If you keep up with this, you won’t get better—”

“That’s not an option, Liv, and you know it,” he hissed back, now looking more distressed than guilty. “This is my life. And I did allow myself to rest, I spent four weeks doing absolutely nothing, just like the doctor asked me to.”

“He said six to eight weeks, Connor,” you sigh, tired, not actually believing you’re having this conversation with him. “Please. Just think about how I feel when I know you’re not well enough to be here yet you still are.”

He pressed his lips together, placing his stick on the floor next to him and moving his helmet around his hands.

“Liv, you know I love you but this— Hockey is what I am. It’s what I do. You have to understand—”

“And I have done nothing but understand you!” You shout, finally losing your cool and snapping at him, your loud voice echoing through the empty arena’s walls. Connor takes a step back, but now you’ve already started and you won’t can’t stop. “Ever since we met, I have been nothing but understanding. I stood by your side at all times, even when what you were doing wasn’t healthy for you!”

“Olivia—”

“I went to sleep alone and cried more nights than you could ever imagine,” your voice cracks, and your stubborn tears are already rolling down your face. “I still supported you no matter what. I cooked your meals, I packed your bags, I went to those ridiculous gala dinners and I did it all with pleasure because I love you and you’re supposed to do these types of things for the people you love!”

“Baby—”

“So you don’t get to stand in front of me and ask me to understand how badly you treat yourself and how you don’t care about anything else besides Hockey when I gave up everything to be with you!” You try to wipe your face, stepping back when Connor tries to reach you. He frowns when you flinch. “I gave up my freedom because I wanted to be with you and God knows I’d do it all over again because I fucking love you.”

“Baby, I know all of this and I’m grateful, I really am but—”

You let out a wet chuckle, shaking your head. “There’s always a but with you.”

“Hockey is important to me, baby.”

“And I am not.”

The silence after your words is cruel, and it tears you apart, scratching your skin and making your insides hurt. His blue eyes, your favorite color to ever exist, are also filled with tears and you hate to see it. You hate to feel bad about saying these things.

The thing about loving someone is that the thread between giving up yourself for them and giving yourself to them is really thin.

You love Connor Bedard. Have loved him for years now. He makes you happy, he listens to you, he’s your best friend.

“You know that’s not true, Liv,” he gets closer, the sound of his skates hitting the ice making you want to puke. “You know you’re more important to me than any of this. You know I love you.”

“No, Connor, I don’t,” you whisper, smiling even when all you feel is pain. “I can’t do this. I won’t watch you d-destroy yourself and not do anything.”

He removes his gloves quickly and grabs your wrist, cold fingers holding your arm down. “Olivia, wait.”

“No,” You shake your head. “I need time. Sorry.”

You don’t look at his face as you leave the arena, and you certainly don’t listen to his voice shouting your name, over and over again.

ᯓᡣ𐭩

i don't know what to do

i’m stuck in a loop, stuck in a loop

ᯓᡣ𐭩

HE WATCHES you talking to the children from afar.

You’re sitting on the floor, and it’s so obvious you’re better different from everyone else at the party. The children surround you like you’re their favorite princess or superhero, all of them wanting a little bit of your attention.

Connor feels like he should be offended, since those kids were there to see his team in the first place. It was some kind of reunion Foligno arranged with the media team, inviting some of his son’s friends and some other children with less opportunities.

But he isn’t. First of all, he’s thankful because if it weren’t for your charm, he would be the one having to deal with the children, something he wasn’t very fond of. Sure, he likes kids and he’s happy they like him, but if he could avoid social interactions, he would.

Besides that, watching you happy is something that he had missed, and he feels like shit for it. He knows he hasn’t been a good boyfriend, and he knows he should do better. Ever since that one night at the rink, you haven’t been the same.

But if he thinks about it too much, he realizes that you haven’t been yourself for a long time now.

And it hurts.

It hurts because he doesn’t know what to do. He loves you, the very first girl he fell in love with, but he also loves Hockey. As a young player in the NHL, he feels like he constantly needs to prove himself to others, and since people give him so much attention, he needs to keep on being a good player.

He doesn’t know how to balance things, how not to spend hours and hours without end on the ice, muting all of his doubts and worries while he keeps throwing the puck in the net.

You smile at a little boy who’s now handing you a flower, and Connor smiles as he watches you ask the little boy to put it on your hair, laughing when the other kids stop their babbling to clap at your newest look.

You make eye contact with him, and he feels himself getting devastated when he notices that the shine in your eyes lessened a little when you looked at him.

ᯓᡣ𐭩

(why do you hate me?)

i could never hate you, despite the words that you've been sayin'

i’ve been having breakthroughs

and hoping you were proud, just maybe

anxiety drives me insane, and my newest addiction is pain

i know i said it was a ‘phase’

five years later, still stuck in my brain

ᯓᡣ𐭩

CLOSING THE front door with a sigh, you let your first sob out. The tears won’t stop, and you don’t bother to wipe them, it would be pointless.

All you want to do is slide down to the floor and stay there, letting the hardwood hurt your back and get you dirty, but you can’t. Your car decided to break in the middle of the road on your way back from college, and you had to walk until you found the nearest telephone to call your insurance company, which would’ve been fine if it weren’t for the terrible storm going on, the water drops penetrating your thin shirt like you weren’t even wearing anything in the first place.

It’s just one of those days where everything that could possibly go wrong goes wrong, but you’re already so fed up with life lately that this all seems too much.

“Liv? What happened, baby?”

You lift your head up faster than you should've, because now you can see tiny, black dots floating around in your vision. You weren’t expecting to see Connor at your house, much less wearing the apron you gave him when he prepared his first dish by himself two years ago— a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

“Connor,” you whisper, not looking him in the eye. “I didn’t know you were here.”

“I texted you,” he says, removing the apron that read “cook it yourself, cunt”. “What happened, baby? Are you hurt?”

You don’t say anything, mostly because you’re certain that if you let one little word slip past your lips you’ll start crying uncontrollably once again, so you just shake your head and leave your things on the floor beside you, walking past him so you could get to your room.

He’s quick to follow, though, watching as you remove your wet clothes and get in the shower, both of you silent and lost in your own thoughts.

Not talking to Connor about your feelings feels weird, but you can’t help but feel like you’re holding him back. It’s sickening, because all you want is to stay with him and be happy, but sometimes loving is also letting go.

You get out of the shower, feeling the tears coming back when you spot the change of clothes Connor left for you on top of the toilet lid— his shirt, his pants, your favorite panties.

He knows you too well. He knows who you are as a person and he knows who you want to become. He knows your fears and your ambitions, he knows your dreams and hopes. He knows what you stand for and what you absolutely despise.

He knows you.

You change, and leave the bathroom quickly, wanting nothing more than to lay down and sleep for days.

“Some lady from your insurance company just called, saying your car will be ready next week,” Connor says, and only then you noticed he’d been standing next to your wardrobe the entire time, crossed arms in front of his chest. “Why didn’t you tell me your car was broken?”

You shrug. “I knew you were at practice. Didn’t want to bother you.”

“So you walked home? In the rain?” You can tell by his tone that he’s upset, but there’s nothing much you can do.

“I mean, what did you want me to do?” You scoff. “My phone died and I had no cash on me. And honestly, we both know that you would never leave the ice for something like this.”

“Liv, you know that’s not true,” he whispers, getting closer to you. “You know that I’d leave at any moment if I even knew you needed me.”

“Whatever,” you mumble before reaching for your phone in your bag, the device thankfully still dry, and put it to charge, removing the hundreds of pillows you have on top of your bed and throwing them on the carpet floor, already visualizing the amazing sleep you’d have.

“What are you doing?” You feel his hands on your back, his body closer to yours than it’s been in a while. “You haven’t had dinner yet. I cooked…”

His sad tone makes you break again, and you hate yourself for it. But you still love him so much, and it hurts to see what you’ve become.

“Liv, please, tell me what’s wrong,” he pleads, turning you around and wiping your tears with his thumbs. “I’ll fix it, I promise. Just tell me what’s wrong, baby.”

“Can you fix us?” You whisper, resting your head against his chest, inhaling his comforting scent. He smells like home and the winter. “Can you fix what we’ve become?”

He’s quiet for a while, long fingers caressing your hair, like he used to do back when you had started dating.

“I’m trying, I swear I am,” he whispers back, and you can finally hear genuineness in his voice. “You’re everything to me, baby, and I won’t lose you.”

“I’m not asking you to give up on Hockey,” you explain, watching as your tears stain his shirt. “I’m just asking you to take care of yourself. Connor, I need you to take care of yourself.”

“I know, baby, and I’m sorry,” he kisses your cheek, the first time his lips touch you in more than two weeks. “I’m so sorry.”

You listen to his heartbeat and sigh, choosing not to say anything. You know the only way you can find out if he’s being genuine or not is with time, because only it will tell if you’re fixable or not.

But as you let yourself sleep close to his body that night, losing yourself between the sheets and his arms, you can finally breathe again.

Because he said he’ll try, and Connor Bedard always tries his hardest with everything.

[norman-fucking-reedus]

Okaay we’ve talked about Daryl with his daughter but lets talk about your pregnancy for a second..

I can imagine Daryl coming back late in the night, so tired and sore from a long day of work. You had only found out a few hours prior, and seeing the physical ache in his body you knew he could use some hopefully very good news.

“Hi there hunterman” You whispered, sliding his crossbow off his shoulders as he kicked his muddy boots off.

Daryl dropped his head down onto your shoulder, sighing heavily. “Hi”

A moment a silence passed, you simply combing your fingers through Daryl’s hair before gently guiding him to raise his head, eyes meeting yours.

“I have something to tell you” Daryl raised a brow, hands settling st your waist. “Not dyin’ are ya?” You giggled, shaking your head

Reaching for your back pocket, you pulled the test out and handed it to him, watching as he took it between his fingers with a confused gaze, which quickly turned into excitement.

“No way”

“Yes way. We’re gonna have a little Dixon”

Daryl wrapped his arms tightly around you, smile resting on his face until it slowly disappear, a set of tears following suit. He sniffled softly, and you raised your hands up to wipe his falling tears. “It’s okay, big guy.”

“Wha’ if m’not a good dad?” He whispered, and you rolled your eyes at him. “I wouldn’t have picked you if I didn’t think you’d be a perfect dad” You wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing him passionately as his arm circled your waist, a hand sliding up your shirt and caressing the skin.

When you start to go through hormone changes and start forming a bump, Daryl becomes super protective of you. Much so to the point that it annoys you but he doesn’t care, he’ll literally die before someone lays a finger on his woman.

He strictly forbids you from leaving the walls, telling everyone on watch duty to not let you out no matter how much you yell, which in fact, yelled at them a lot. He also refused to let you carry anything that looked just a hair too heavy.

“Nope. Nah. Give ‘ere girl.”

“I can carry it, Dixon”

“I’on care, give it ta me”

He’ll forcibly take the item out your hand, because simply how dare you have to even lift a finger with that baby inside you.

I also honestly feel like Daryl would be really scared to have sex during your pregnancy. Now if its pleasure that you want, Daryl has no probably eating you out till your eyes are rolling and his jaw is cramping.

“I dun’ wanna hurt tha baby”

“Hurt them how?”

“..With m’dick??”

I think about the scene from Big Mouth when Jay fucks his pillow and screams “My dick is right next to the baby’s head” That’s all i’m gonna say about that

Daryl makes sure to give you half of his food, and you don’t have a choice but to take it. (Unless the baby says otherwise) He purposely hunts extra food for that you can have more to eat, especially the further you get along.

By the time you’re about seven months and very undoubtedly pregnant, Daryl would murder anyone in cold blood if they even looked at you wrong.

Although you were crabby and yelled a lot, he was at your complete beck and call. Daryl could only loving stare at you when you complained over something, thinking about how gorgeous you were and how lucky he was that you were the mother of his child.

“Nothing fits right anymore! My shoes don’t even fit”

“Ya don’ need yer shoes if ya never leave”

“I never leave ‘cause you keep me locked here like a fucking prisoner”

“M’keepin my pretty girls safe”

Lots of his clothes have been sacrificed considering you’re literally busting out of yours, and something predatory washes over him seeing your belly prutrude through his shirts.

Birth is definitely hard and Daryl definitely passed out once or twice, but being the man he is he forced himself to pull through for you, and the scars from your nails dragging down his flesh will be a fond memory followed by the sweet sound of loud crying.

You know how much Daryl loves kids, and you’re exhausted from all the pushing, so it only makes sense that he gets first hold. You watch with a small smile as Siddiq guides Daryl to take his shirt off, watching the burly man nervously but eagerly (and carefully) take his newborn into his large hands.

In that moment, cradling his very own precious babygirl, it felt like you were the only three people on earth. Daryl couldn’t take his eyes off the wiggling bundle of life in his arms, rocking slowly in the chair as he burned the image of her tiny little face into his mind.

As you stared at him, you couldn’t help but think about how you really did pick the perfect dad. Daryl Dixon, a hard, strong, intimidating man fear by many, who was now sitting softly, gently and quietly with his daughter laying ontop his bare chest, a large hand keeping her secured. Already a major daddys girl.

The baby stage is easily Daryl’s favorite, and he definitely gets up in the middle of the night when she starts crying or fussing.

I don’t think he’d put her down for a second, like you just won’t see Daryl without her hooked around his arm. He doesn’t bring her into the garage during bike repairs until shes older, not wanting to let his baby inhale toxic bike fumes.

Dog is her protector. Most dogs understand what babies are and how vulnerable to the world they are, so Daryl definitely trains Dog to stay by her side when he can’t be. Instead of sleeping on the couch Dog now sleeps right outside her crib.

On the one occasion when a group a raiders had started searching houses, yours having been one of the first, one of the men made the mistake of opening her door, Dog jumping swiftly into protective mode and clamping his canines into the mans leg.

When it comes to breastfeeding, I can imagine the extra lengths Daryl would go. He makes sure you have enough food and nutrients to produce, and totally massages your boobs when you complain about the soreness.

When she’s big enough to start wearing clothes rather than onesies, Daryl definitely finds lots of super cute girly stuff for her because well only the best for his girls. He spoils her totally rotten.

Maybe not completely, but y’know. Her first words end up being an adorably butchered version of Daryl’s name, one that makes him wanna cry and scream cause his daughters first words were his own name.

“Baryl!”

“Ohh good jobs mommas baby! That’s daddys name!”

“She- said- she said- she just- she”

“It’s okay, Baryl we all heard it”

｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★

[httpsdana]

Hiiii!!! can you write a jamal story with promt 107 where they're having an argument (he's at fault 🤭) with like HEAVY angst where jamal is lowkey being a meanie and not trying to understand readers side but ends in the cutest fluff tho (cuz can't accept sad endings 😭)

Btw FREAKING INLOVEE WITH UR WRITING UR LITERALLY SAVING THE JAMAL GIRLIES I SWEAR!!! 🙏🏻🙏🏻💗💗

Also thank you in advance!!!!! 😽🩷🤍

Lost In Translation~Jamal Musiala

THANK YOU SM FOR UR SWEET MESSAGE. i hope u enjoy this one 😙🫶🏻

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players/drivers I write for

107-"please stop. you're scaring me."

She felt it from the start of the season. Jamal had said he was going to give his best this season and push himself to his limits. He promised to avoid any distractions and focus solely on football, fully committing himself. What she didn’t expect was for him to avoid her too. It made her feel like she was the distraction, rather than the support he needed.

y/n woke up every morning without Jamal by her side. Every day, she rushed to the kitchen, hoping to see him and wish him a good day.

All she wanted was to hear those three words she felt like she hadn’t heard in forever. But every morning, she was disappointed to find that he had already left without even a "good morning."

When she returned from work, Jamal still wouldn’t be home. She knew his training sessions were intense, but she also knew he couldn’t possibly be training from 8 a.m. to 4 p.m.

She made him dinner every night, hoping they could share a moment together when he came home exhausted from practice. Instead, he’d arrive late at night, claiming he had been at the gym after training.

He no longer wrapped his arms around her at night. He hadn’t touched or kissed her in over two months. It felt like she was invisible to him, and she couldn’t take it anymore. She had to tell him how she felt, or she would have no choice but to let him go.

y/n sat in their living room, waiting for Jamal to come home. It was 10 p.m. After what felt like 100 episodes of her show, she finally heard his keys and the door opening. She remained seated on the couch, waiting for him. He walked into the living room, seeing her sitting there, watching TV.

“Hey,” he mumbled, dropping his bag on the couch and sitting down, keeping his distance from her.

She wanted to ask him about his day. She wanted to ask how he was feeling about the start of the season, especially given his incredible performance. But she didn’t. She just wanted to know what was going on and why he was avoiding her.

“We need to talk,” she said, looking at him intently, her voice blank and direct.

Jamal sighed, running his hands over his face, exhaustion clear in his features. “y/n, I’m tired. I just want to shower and go to sleep,” he said, already standing up to leave the room.

That’s what he always did, avoiding any conversation with her.

“No, Jamal. You’re not running away this time. We need to have a serious conversation, and you need to listen to me for once,” she said, standing up too, her voice tense with all the frustration she had been holding inside for so long.

He turned around, surprised by her outburst but clearly annoyed that he was going to have to talk. “What is it now?” he said, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms over his chest.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, her voice weak and hurt.

“What do you mean, what’s wrong? You’re the one who said we need to talk, and now you’re asking me what’s wrong?” he snapped, his voice getting louder with each word.

“What’s wrong with us? What happened? Did I do something to upset you? Why are you avoiding me and acting like I don’t even exist in this house?” she said, her voice trembling as she fought back tears.

“Oh my god. You’re always so needy, constantly craving attention. I can’t have you clinging onto me all day, y/n. I come home every night exhausted, and all I want is to sleep. But you’re there, nagging me because you can’t survive without attention. What am I supposed to do?” he shouted bitterly, stepping closer to her.

“I’m not asking for anything crazy! Just acknowledge me. Say good morning, make me coffee before you leave, tell me you love me at least!” she yelled back, her hands dropping to her sides in defeat.

Jamal was fuming, his face red with anger. She had never seen him like this before, and it scared her. He paced around the room, his steps heavy, before kicking a vase, shattering it to pieces. y/n flinched at the sound, stepping back slightly as Jamal moved closer.

“Please stop. You’re scaring me” she whispered as he stood in front of her, his face inches from hers. It was the closest he had been to her in weeks. She could feel the heat radiating from him, but his cold expression sent chills down her spine.

Jamal didn’t seem to hear her or care. Instead, he continued hurling hurtful words.

“I come home to rest. I don’t need anyone ruining my mood before I leave for training. I don’t need anyone distracting me from having my best season. So stop with the attention-seeking and deal with it. It’s not like I’m treating you as if you’re dead,” he spat, his words cutting deep into Y/N’s heart like knives.

She fought back the tears that threatened to fall, refusing to let him see her break.

“But you are, Jamal! You don’t look at me anymore. You don’t remember anything. You’ve forgotten our date nights, and we haven’t had a Sunday date in weeks. Sunday is your rest day, but instead of spending it with me, you choose to hang out with your friends, friends you see every day at training. Why can’t you acknowledge your girlfriend, who’s doing her best to stay calm and deal with the consequences of dating a footballer?” she cried, finally letting out all the words she had been holding inside for months.

“For fuck’s sake. You just don’t get it, do you? I’m going to shower and then go to sleep. I better not hear about this childish problem you’ve made up in your head again,” he said coldly, leaving the room and heading to their bedroom.

y/n collapsed on the couch, the tears she had been holding back finally breaking free. She pulled her knees to her chest and sobbed into them, her heart aching.

She didn’t understand how Jamal had changed so much, why he had become like this. They had been dating for years, and every year he wanted to have a great season, but this was the first time he had acted this way. She felt their relationship slipping through her fingers, and she didn’t have the strength to fight anymore.

After crying for a while, exhaustion overtook her, and she wanted to sleep. But she couldn’t bring herself to sleep next to Jamal after the hurtful things he had said. She began walking to the guest room when she heard his voice behind her.

“Where are you going?” he asked, making her turn to look at him. He stood there shirtless, fresh from the shower, his hair still wet and dressed in the shorts he always wore to bed.

“To sleep in the guest room,” she replied, turning away.

“Fine, be like that,” he scoffed, and she heard the bedroom door slam behind her.

She sighed and entered the cold, empty guest room, with only a bed in the middle. Lying down, she felt as though she were on a rock.

She closed her eyes, hoping for some rest, but after tossing and turning for hours, she gave up. She sat up, running a hand over her face, wondering if Jamal was struggling to sleep too.

A part of her hoped he was awake, thinking about her, just as she was about him. But she knew he was probably fast asleep, after using "needing sleep" as an excuse to avoid their argument.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the door creaking open. She looked up and saw Jamal peeking his head in to see if she was asleep. When he saw her sitting up, he entered the room slowly, standing awkwardly by the door.

“Can I... sleep next to you?” he asked nervously, avoiding her gaze and looking at the floor. When she didn’t reply, he looked up, seeing the hesitation in her eyes.

“I won’t touch you or anything. I’ll stay as far as I can,” he pleaded, his eyes begging for some rest.

y/n thought about it. She couldn’t sleep without him next to her either. “Please,” he said softly, and she finally gave in, nodding her head and moving to the far side of the bed, turning her back to him.

She felt the bed dip as Jamal lay down next to her. Even with the distance, she could feel the warmth of his body close to hers. y/n closed her eyes, hoping to finally get some sleep. As she drifted off, she felt his arm drape over her body, a small smile forming on her lips as she welcomed his warmth. She knew they would need to talk about their fight in the morning, but for now, they could rest.

Next morning, y/n had woken up by the sun that was shining in the guest room. She turned around, hoping Jamal was still next to her, but as usual, he had already left the room.

She let out a sigh, knowing he probably left to training too. She hoped he would stay and explain his hurtful words, but it seemed as if nothing happen to him last night. y/n entered the bathroom, washing her face and brushing her teeth, before going to the kitchen.

She was surprised when she saw Jamal there, his shirtless back to her as he was making breakfast. When he noticed her, he smiled at her, making her more confused. "good morning darling. I made you coffee" he pointed to the cup of coffee that was next to the coffee machine.

Jamal moves quietly around the kitchen, the sound of eggs sizzling and toast popping up from the toaster filling the silence. y/n sat on the counter, the cup of coffee next to her, arms folded, watching him, her heart heavy with the weight of the argument that’s still fresh in her mind.

He seems to be gathering his thoughts, carefully plating the breakfast before he turns to her, his expression soft but full of regret.

“I’m really sorry,” he starts, his voice low, almost hesitant.

“I’ve been thinking about everything, and I know I shouldn’t be trying to explain why I acted the way I did, because none of it excuses what I said or how I treated you. It was wrong, and I wasn’t supposed to do any of that.” He takes a deep breath, looking down at the floor before meeting your eyes again.

“But with the new coach and the new season, there’s been so much pressure. The coach has been really strict about us not getting distracted, and I... I let that get into my head.” he said, his voice weak and unstable.

y/n doesn’t respond right away, waiting for him to continue, her gaze steady as she takes in his words.

"I thought that maybe you were a distraction," he says, shaking his head at himself.

"But that was so wrong of me. All you’ve ever done is support me. You’ve been there through everything, my ups and downs, every game, every challenge, and instead of seeing that, I pushed you away. I don’t even know why I said the things I did... I just... I took my stress out on you, and I’m so sorry for that. I know it hurt you, and I regret it more than I can say.” he stuttered, seeming nervous

Her chest tightens, emotions swirling inside her as she thinks back to how hurt she felt. But she remains silent, waiting for him to finish.

“I shouldn’t have acted like football was more important than you," he continues, stepping closer.

"Because it’s not. You’re so important to me. Honestly, most of my success, it’s because of you. You keep me grounded, and your support means everything. It’s not just my talent that’s gotten me where I am, it’s you. And I was stupid for not seeing that." he said confidently, stepping closer to her

He looks at her, his eyes full of sincerity, waiting for some kind of response. She hesitates, his words slowly sinking in.

"You really hurt me, Jamal," she says softly. "It wasn’t just about football. It was about how you made me feel like I wasn’t enough, like I was in the way." she said, her voice filled with pain.

He nods, a look of guilt flashing across his face.

"I know, and I’m going to spend every day trying to make up for it. I want to fix this. I don���t want you to ever feel that way again." he said honestly

There’s a pause before he speaks again, his voice even softer.

"I took the day off today. I thought maybe we could go for a walk, spend some time together, and get some ice cream, if you want? I just... I want to make it up to you." he hesitated, waiting for her to speak

She tries to hide the small smile tugging at her lips.

"You got me with the ice cream. I can’t say no to free ice cream." she jokes

He chuckles, though there’s still a seriousness in his gaze.

"I really am sorry. I swear to you, nothing like that will ever happen again. Football’s important, but so are you. More than that, you’re more important." he said, grabbing her hands in his

"i believe you Jamal. I hope you don't break your promise this time" she said, giving him a small smile.

He smiled back, squeezing her hands in his.

"you won't regret it i promise" he said

After breakfast, they walk side by side, hand in hand, talking and catching up on everything that’s happened since the argument.

Slowly, the tension between them begins to ease. As they sit on a park bench, ice creams in hand, y/n leans her head on his shoulder, the warmth of the moment filling the space between them.

"I missed this," she says softly, closing her eyes as she let the comfort of his presence wash over her.

"I missed it too," he murmurs, placing a gentle kiss on her head before resting his against hers.

Everything was fine now.