#and he finally lets himself be a kid again
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Note
not me haunting your asks in every single blog you own 😈 sooo, do you write parents!au? bc I wanted to request some scenario abt how sylus, caleb and xavier would react to their kids telling u to shut up. I KNOW ITS WEIRD BUT ITS A OLD TREND I THINK?? anyway, love ya babe 💘💋💋
੭⠀ A little prank.
⋆⠀AUTHOR'S NOTES: I love parents!au so much 😭
⋆⠀FEATURING: Xavier, Sylus, Caleb.
⋆⠀WARNING: English is not my first language, so it may contain some mistakes.
Your son’s favorite pastime was annoying his father, and he was certainly better at it than anyone else. Not only that, but he also managed to convince you to help with yet another one of his… pranks.
The boy smiled when he saw his father heading to the kitchen and turned back to his video game. Not long after, you walked into the room with something in hand. “Sweetheart, could you take this—”
“Shut up, mom,” he tried to say in an irritated tone, but a smile was plastered across his face.
𝜗ৎ ⠀⠀XAVIER
Not even five seconds had passed before your son was groaning in pain, Xavier’s slipper lying on the couch beside him after hitting the back of his head squarely. “Dad—”
Xavier raised the other slipper, pointing it at the boy. “Apologize. Now,” he said, his eyebrows furrowing. “Is that any way to talk to your mother?”
“But I was busy, and she—” Once again, the boy didn’t get the chance to finish his sentence, the other slipper flying straight at him. Xavier crossed his arms, his gaze fixed on his son.
You widened your eyes and placed a hand on your husband’s shoulder, squeezing it lightly. “Okay, okay, it was a… joke, just a prank.”
Xavier gave a faint smirk, glancing at you. “…Yeah, I knew that.” He pulled you into a hug, sticking his tongue out at your son. “You think I’d stop at that if I saw him disrespecting you like that?”
𝜗ৎ ⠀⠀SYLUS
Sylus prided himself on being an exemplary father. He was patient, fun—or so he thought—and wealthy. I mean, surely his son was already having a better childhood than most people who came from the same place Sylus had, right?
And perhaps it was exactly that freedom and comfort in his presence that made the boy feel confident enough to make that kind of joke.
“I must’ve misheard. Definitely,” Sylus said loud enough for both of you to hear. You turned away so he wouldn’t see your expression, while your son simply grimaced.
“Dad, she could’ve just asked one of my uncles to go—or, I don’t know, gone herself!” the boy said, spinning the pieces of a pistol between his fingers.
Sylus’s steps were almost inaudible; it was as if he had teleported to his son’s side. He crossed his arms, an irritated expression on his face. His son had never seen that look before—at least, not directed at him.
“Don’t you dare talk to your mother like that under this roof,” he said. “I don’t care if she could’ve asked someone else���if she tells you to do something, you do it. She brought you into this world.”
The boy couldn’t hold back his laughter, bursting out in hysterics. Your husband opened his mouth to say something but stopped when he saw you laughing as well. He let out a sigh, rubbing his face. “You too now?”
𝜗ৎ ⠀⠀CALEB
Honestly, your son was expecting Caleb to yell at him or chase after him, but it was even more terrifying to see him stay silent, slowly turning to face the boy.
He froze, setting the video game controller down on the coffee table. Caleb’s eyes stayed fixed on him, and his silence lingered just long enough to make the boy shift uncomfortably under the stare.
When Caleb finally spoke, his voice was strangely calm—and that wasn’t exactly a good thing. “You have five seconds to do as your mother said and come back here, and another five to apologize and explain yourself.”
You let out an awkward laugh before wrapping your arms around your husband. “It was just a joke, I swear.” Caleb glanced at you, slipping a hand under your shirt to give you a pinch. “Ouch! It was his idea!”
He rolled his eyes but let out a relieved laugh, despite his irritation with your newfound way of spending free time. “I should’ve known.”
#lads x you#love deepspace x you#l&ds x reader#sylus x mc#caleb x reader#xavier x reader#love and deepspace
269 notes
·
View notes
Text
goodnight kisses — matt sturniolo
summary: where you won't kiss matt goodnight
inspired by
The evening was winding down, and the soft glow of bedside lamps illuminated the cozy bedroom where you and Matt were preparing for bed. You had spent a relaxing evening together, watching movies and laughing, and now Matt was ready for one of his favorite nighttime rituals—a goodnight kiss from you.
As they settled under the covers, Matt leaned in with a warm smile, his eyes full of anticipation. “Goodnight, baby,” he said, leaning in for a kiss.
You, with a playful glint in your eye, gently turned your face away, evading his lips. “Goodnight, Matt,” you said, your tone light but with a hint of mischief.
Matt paused, a bit taken aback. “Did you—did you not want to kiss me tonight?”
You just smiled sweetly, not offering any explanation. “Just feeling a bit tired. Maybe later.”
Matt shrugged it off, trying to mask his disappointment. He repositioned himself and tried again. “How about now? Can I get my goodnight kiss?”
You pulled away again, this time with a little giggle. “Maybe in a bit. I’m really sleepy.”
Matt’s smile faltered slightly, and he sat up a bit, confusion beginning to show on his face. “Baby, what’s going on? You’re acting a little strange.”
You continued to play along, still not revealing her prank. “I’m fine, Matt. Just not in the mood right now. Maybe tomorrow.”
Matt’s brow furrowed, and he glanced at you, clearly puzzled. He tried once more, leaning in slowly. “Just one kiss, please?”
You gently pushed him away, your smile still in place but your eyes betraying a hint of concern. “I really am tired. It’s been a long day.”
Matt’s confusion deepened, and a tinge of sadness began to show. He looked down, trying to make sense of the situation. “Is everything okay, baby? Did I do something wrong?”
Your heart ached at his genuine confusion and the sadness in his voice. You sat up, your playful demeanor giving way to concern. “No, Matt, you didn’t do anything wrong. I just—”
You stopped as a smile crept onto your face. “Actually, I was just playing a little prank on you. I wanted to see how you’d react if I didn’t give you a goodnight kiss.”
Matt’s eyes widened in realization, and he let out a relieved laugh, though his earlier sadness lingered. “You’re kidding! I was starting to think I’d done something wrong.”
You reached out and pulled him close, cupping his face in your hands. “No, not at all. I just wanted to see how much you’d miss it.”
Matt chuckled softly, his disappointment melting away. “Well, you got me good. I was really worried for a moment there.”
You leaned in and finally gave him the goodnight kiss he had been waiting for. “Sorry for making you worry. I just couldn’t resist a little fun.”
Matt’s expression softened, and he kissed you back tenderly. “Just let me know next time before you pull a prank like that. You had me all confused.”
You smiled, snuggling close to him. “Promise. I’ll make it up to you.”
Matt wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer. “You already did. Just having you here is enough for me.”
tag list: @stuwniolo, @sturnobsessedwh0re, @matts-myloverboy, @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut, @lizzymacdonald06, @asherrisrandom, @sturniolowhore69, @faith5drpepper, @emely9274, @psychologyloverfr, @lovetaylorrussellgrr, @conspiracy-ash, @helpimateenagerinlove, @ghostlythinggoingaround, @sturmatt, @chris-hallelujah, @goingtojohnkramershouseee, @wurlibydominicfike, @straw8berry, @shadowthesim, @courta13, @frankdelreyy
#spotify#matt sturniolo#matt sturniolo fluff#matt sturniolo imagine#matt sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo x reader#matt sturniolo x you#matt x reader#sturniolo#sturniolo fanfic#nick sturniolo#matthew sturniolo#the sturniolo triplets#christopher sturniolo#chris sturniolo#matthew bernard sturniolo#matthew sturniolo imagine#sturniolo smut#sturniolo triplets#sturniolo imagine#matthew sturniolo x reader#sturniolo triplets x reader#matthew sturniolo smut#sturniolo x reader#the sturniolos#nicolas sturniolo
235 notes
·
View notes
Text
| pairing: johnny x manager!fem!reader
| warnings: 18+ MDNI. rough sex. hate? sex. quickie. bathroom sex. unprotected sex. breeding kink. praise kink (bro's obsessed/down bad).
| wc: 2.8k
| aurora's note: this is originally written as johnny x manager!oc, so it's mildly plus size coded and includes background about johnny and reader being married and having a kid together already. enjoy <3
Being as busy as you were handling a million other issues backstage, you didn’t realize that Johnny was trying to get your attention for an entire song until a staff member finally interrupted what you were doing to tell you that something was wrong with Johnny. When you stopped to look at the stage, you saw Johnny standing there. During the middle of a song, he was just standing there, staring at you, waiting for your attention so that he could finally point at his mic and mouth frustratedly: “It’s not working!” Immediately, you groaned. How was it that you had a million staff members standing around doing nothing and not a single one of them thought to actually do something to solve the problem? Did you really have to do everything yourself? It seemed that you did indeed have to do it because you were the one who told the techs that something was wrong with his microphone and that it needed to be fixed— All the while, Johnny was still on stage, protesting the whole thing during his parts of the song by refusing to even lip sync or put full effort into the choreography.
By the time the song was over, they had a new battery pack and microphone ready for Johnny to switch out during the ment next up on the cue sheet. So you gestured for Johnny to come over. When Johnny ran off stage, he immediately tossed his mic to the side angrily and snatched the new one from you without a word. You stared at him as the sound team closed in to check Johnny's in-ears as well to make sure that everything was working fine again. Johnny huffed and brushed them off so that he could check it himself. You sighed and shook your head at him. You understood that he was frustrated, but he was taking it out on the wrong people, and he was putting himself and everyone else in a sour mood unnecessarily. Then just as he was about to run off without a word, you caught his hand and pulled him back a few steps.
“Hey, look at me.”
Johnny reluctantly spun around while rolling his eyes.
“Smile a bit. Have fun. Don’t get upset again.” You kissed him quickly and smacked his ass— Which he usually would have giggled in response to, instead he continued to pout before escaping your hold and running off. “What’s got his panties in a twist?” you muttered to yourself.
Granted, once he was back on stage, Johnny was smiling and being his usual self that he presented in front of fans. Why he had to take his anger out on you was a mystery. You figured that he let it go or at least felt mildly better, however, because he was acting completely normal again and wasn’t continuously glancing off stage again for help which no one but you was eager to supply. Maybe he just needed a breather. The boys seemed to cheer him up, and interacting with the fans seemed to put a bright smile on his face… Surely he wasn’t mad anymore.
When the concert ended, the boys ran off stage to immediately hand over their equipment and get their water bottles which they all chugged for dear life. Except Johnny. Mr. Pouty angrily threw his mic and in-ear into his labeled basket without any care of if it would break; and in the process of throwing his public tantrum, he shocked literally everyone with his out of character behavior, prompting all of backstage to fall eerily silent and still. Johnny ignored them as he stormed off. Of course your first and only reaction was to follow him— Not as his worried wife but as his pissed off manager who was seeking an explanation about how a fucking mic could possibly do all that to him on the first night of their tour when they were supposed to be happy and just roll with any of the issues that would accidentally occur— That always happened during the first shows! Always! Johnny knew better than anyone that the first show was a trial run, so things were bound to go wrong…
Johnny suddenly diverted into a bathroom in the hallway, and before you knew what was going on, your wrists were being held in his tight grip as he pulled you in with him. You stumbled in, giving him time to lock the door.
“What’s your prob—”
The thought of scolding him was washed away within an instant when he cupped his hands over your ass and squeezed roughly so that you were pulled flush against his chest before he pushed both of you to the wall where he immediately began kissing you roughly.
“J—”
“Stop talking.”
Despite being caught completely off guard by Johnny, you did as you were told, instead of talking you used your energy to kiss him back in the hopes that he was just trying to ground himself with something real— with you. But the longer you kissed, the more aggressive Johnny got. You realized quickly that if you continued that it would go further until neither of you could stop, and you just couldn’t do that with everyone walking on eggshells around him and waiting for you to cool him down. If someone noticed you were gone for so long… If someone heard you… You just couldn’t risk it.
“Joh—”
“What did I say, hmmm?” With a rough grasp on your hips, Johnny spun you around and moved you over a few steps so that you were bent over the sink. “Why do you have to be so fucking pretty all the time? It’s a distraction… But you wouldn’t know that with how you get distracted during our performances. Do you realize how long I was trying to get your attention after my mic stopped working?”
“I had other things to do—”
“What part of ‘stop talking’ do you not get?”
You watched Johnny through the mirror as he focused on checking you out from head to toe with his lip bottom trapped between his teeth. He still looked angry. Honestly, you'd never seen him mad on stage, but what was even stranger was how mad he was with you. Johnny was kind and quiet and understanding. He hardly ever raised his voice, and he always stopped himself from going too far when he got upset. Now, though, it was like everything boiled over until he couldn’t control himself anymore, so his only salvation was bending you over the sink and pulling your cargo pants and underwear down in unison. You grabbed the cold counter top to hold yourself steady.
“Someone could catch us,” you warned warily, worried that he would scold you again for talking.
Johnny grabbed your ass to spread you open before groaning at the sight. “I don’t care.”
“But—”
“It’s not a crime to fuck my wife.”
“It’s unprofessional.”
“Tell that to the techs who couldn’t do their jobs earlier.”
“That’s not their fault.”
“Someone has to take the blame,” he told you sincerely, his gaze meeting yours in the mirror, not a hint of humor or kindness in those dark eyes of his. “Who’s it gonna be?”
You stared at him and exhaled. “It’s my fault for not making sure the techs checked the mic after your outfit change.”
Was it actually your fault? No. But if there was anyone you wished Johnny would be so angry with that he couldn’t see straight, you wanted it to be you because you knew that you could handle him. Who knew what he would do if let loose on the poor crew who made one silly mistake that ruined the whole show for Johnny? In his state, Johnny probably would’ve chewed into everyone there, regardless of their job title, so you instead offered yourself up, which seemed to do the trick because Johnny immediately took that answer and ran with it. With your pants barely pushed down around your thighs and no wiggle room between the sink and Johnny's body pressed up behind you, you had no choice but to stand still as Johnny began to undo his pants with one hand while the other remained glued to your hip. Without so much as a courteous warning, Johnny took you by surprise— Literally. One second you were bracing against the sink for what was to come, the next Johnny had his tip kissing your entrance, and then he was in all at once. You barely stood a chance. You tried to stay quiet by biting your lip and inevitably slapping a hand over your mouth to muffle your moans, but it was too late. The shock of having Johnny fuck you so brutally and so suddenly was too much for you to handle. Surely if the boys were eavesdropping outside in the hopes of hearing you two argue, they were immediately scarred forever knowing that Johnny was railing their Noona in the bathroom… If crew members were walking by, they were likely running to gossip about the moans echoing from the bathroom… There was nothing you could do about it, not while your brain felt numb to everything but the fact that Johnny was deep inside of you, and he was being relentless.
“So fucking perfect,” he grunted quietly. “Look at you…” He reached around to grab your face and force you to look up into the mirror to watch your disheveled self bouncing into the sink every time Johnny thrusted forward. “What do I do with you? I just can’t help myself, baby, it’s getting dangerous… All I can think about is you— Even when I’m on stage, I think about you, you, you. It’s unprofessional.”
He hit a sensitive spot that made you moan his name.
“And that face… You always look so pretty when you go dumb on my cock.”
Sure, Johnny was the type to talk dirty in bed, but never like that with you. Back when you first started dating, you used to think about all the women he had been with before you and what they had gotten up to, and if Johnny missed any of it. Over the years, though, when Johnny never showed any changes in your sexual life, like wanting to be degrading, you figured that you assumed wrong about him. Yet there he was, bending you over the sink, holding you steady, and telling you dirty things that made you wet and your legs shake.
“I think I have an idea of what to do with you,” he said between deep thrusts. Leaning in close, his breath was hot on your ear as he whispered sensually, “I’m gonna fill you up…” The two of you moaned together at the thought. “You keep talking about wanting a girl who looks like you, right? We can do that. I can do that… Give you the little girl you want so badly… Maybe then you’ll be at home again like you were when you were pregnant with our son, so I won’t have to be distracted by you all the time.”
“Bold of you t— Fuck— B-bold of you to assume… you wouldn’t still… think— Shit— about me when I’m like that…”
Johnny chuckled. “True.” He brushed your hair off your shoulders so that he could have access to your neck where he started leaving visible hickies.
You reached back to slide one of your hands through his long hair before tugging on the strands to urge him to moan again.
“Gonna cum in you, darling,” he muttered desperately.
Those rough thrusts of his didn’t waver, even when you grunted about him going too fast or too hard. The sound of skin slapping together and moans echoing through the bathroom were enough to convince you that there was no way everyone in the building didn’t know about what you were doing in there. For whatever reason, though, you stopped caring. Maybe it was because the thought of you and Johnny having another kid made your brain melt… All of those comments you made about wanting a baby girl were just jokes to poke fun at how your son looked so like Johnny and not you, but to Johnny it wasn’t just a joke, and you should have known better after the fourth time you brought it up and Johnny kept saying, “One day.” You thought he was kidding too! But no, there he was, a man on a mission, driving into you like there was no tomorrow, like you were the last two people left on Earth.
“You’re so fucking perfect, fuck—” Johnny leaned back just enough for him to be able to look down at the obscene image of his cock disappearing into you over and over again as his nails left imprints in the fat on your hips. “So fucking pretty.” He slid his hands down to drag his nails up, leaving a trail of red marks in their wake along your plush thighs. “All mine, too.” He threw his head back and let out a moan as he very suddenly started cumming inside of you, also without any warning, just like everything else that night.
You stood with your weight being held up by his hands and your supportive grip on the sink, but your legs shook too hard to keep entirely still while you felt the warmth of his cum seep into your core. You could’ve sworn you heard him mumble something along the lines of, “Good girl,” but your head was spinning too fast to make sense of it. So just as quickly as Johnny had been in you, he slid out with a lewd sound caused by your wetness and his cum, then he pulled up his pants. With shaky hands, you pulled your pants up too. Neither of you said anything as Johnny pushed his hair back out of his face with a heavy, relieved sigh, like he couldn’t remember why he was mad in the first place now that he had gotten off inside of his wife who was left with a dry mouth and a body that was vibrating uncontrollably. You tried to calm yourself down the only way you knew how: You squatted down and bowed your head so that you could focus on catching your breath. Johnny gasped and reached out to grab you, but you had yourself still supported by holding onto the sink, so he backed off slightly but remained close in case you needed his help.
“I’m sorry, baby— I got ahead of myself, I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’m so sorry.”
Swallowing hard, you croaked, “John…”
“Yeah?” he replied worriedly.
“We’ve been together for nearly five years… You need to fuck me like that more often.”
For a moment, he didn’t do a thing, but then he started laughing loudly while leaning over to brace his hands on his knees. You stayed where you were on the ground. He nodded, still laughing. “Okay, baby, I can do that.” When he got his laugh out of the way, Johnny held his hands out to help you off the ground and up to your feet slowly so that you could carefully regain your bearings. “You okay?”
You nodded.
“Promise?”
“It’s not sexy if you keep asking.”
Johnny chuckled lightly before kissing your forehead. “By the way, I know it wasn’t your fault that my mic got fucked up. Stupid cord came loose, it’s no one’s fault.”
You looked up at him with a smile before kissing him with a peck at first until he used his height to tower over you and kiss you passionately while he inhaled for air and you reached up to tangle your fingers in his hair. When someone knocked on the bathroom door all of a sudden, you both pulled away and took a large step in opposite directions of each other as if you had actually been caught with your pants down.
“Are you two done?” Yuta asked from the other side of the door.
You sighed quietly. Yeah, everyone definitely knew about you two.
“Yeah,” you replied, giving up on the idea of pretending you weren’t in there or that you hadn’t just fucked. “Coming.”
Johnny chortled.
Your attention snapped to your husband, and before you could pull paper towels out of the dispenser and throw them at him, Johnny made a run for it out of the bathroom with his tail tucked between his legs.
taglist: @theycallmesya , @tiredlittlevirgo , @henderysposts , @trash-number-one , @mystverse
@aeriwave , @vrak-co , @chibilino , @luvhaeni , @leekslou
@ah-2212 , @junrenjun , @ant-onie , @sunshinesmuse , @userntfnd
@jibunie , @markyoursupplier127 , @linlinaert , @agust-june , @slayhaechan
@cherryynoir ,
#op#fanfic#johnny#johnny suh smut#johnny suh#johnny suh fanfic#johnny smut#johnny fanfic#nct#nct fanfic#nct smut#nct 127#nct 127 fanfic#nct 127 smut
214 notes
·
View notes
Text
tense .ᐟ
Paring; art x reader
Synopsis; literally based on babygirl 😭 i saw it yesterday and had brain worms
Requested; no
Notes; reqs and inbox are open !
Masterlist
If he hadn’t been fucked before he definitely was now. He loved his wife more than anything in this world - his family was his world but you? You’d flipped that all upside down.
When Tashi mentioned hiring a new assistant he hadn’t blinked twice. She’d claimed it would be a good idea to help give someone young experience in the world of sport who is better than his wife to learn from.
He’d half expected some meek teenager to be standing there when he’d opened the door - someone who would stutter over their words and be half terrified of his wife (like so many people had been) but that couldn’t have been far from the truth.
From the minute you’d first smiled at him and introduced yourself he knew he was in trouble. The way your eyes had lit up like a kid in a candy shop almost as he’d let you in, the way your gaze had almost pierced right through him as he’d left you both alone on Tashi’s request.
Art knew he should have pushed you away. He should have built a wall - his wife was your boss and technically so was he. Tashi thought you were nothing short of an angel, this bright-eyed girl who was ready to do whatever she asked and she’d quickly grown to enjoy your company.
You had a backbone and she liked that.
That was why you’d started spending more and more time and theirs. Staying for lunch became staying for dinner which led to the situation he found himself in currently.
His hands gripped the wheel tighter as you watched him from the corner of your eye. The nerves were practically rolling off him in waves as he drove. Sure you’d spent time alone together before but there’d always been distance. He’d made sure of that.
Now though, now you were less than an arms reach away and like always you seemed to be analysing him - like you knew something he didn’t. “You look tense?” Your voice broke through the silence as you turned to look at him. You watched him for a moment, your teeth digging into your lip.
“Is it me?”
Art’s breath caught at your words. He shook his head turning to face you as the car stopped at a red light. “The open’s a few days. You know how Tashi gets.” He lied through his teeth praying that you’d simply take the excuse and move on.
You hummed, your eyes drifting down to where his hands gripped the wheel.
“You're lying.”
Your words cut like a knife as you shifted in the seat, your hand braced on the console as you all but leaned into his space. Your lips pulled up into a slow smile as his own parted.
“Why are you lying.”
“I’m not. Tashi’s been at me all week.”
“She has but that's not the reason you’re tense.”
“It is. It’s not really any of your business.” He’d put his foot down - well at least he was trying to. You knew that tone, the one he used when you’d push your luck a little to far.
“Art,” You sighed your hand moving to brush against his leg as you lent ever closer, your lips a breath away from his. He’d half expected you to do it, to kiss him. He’d wanted you to do it.
He felt like a love-struck teen again as your hand shifted to rest over his thigh. You leaned slightly closer, your lips brushing his and suddenly he didn’t care. He moved trying to finally get the one thing he’d subconsciously been craving.
But suddenly your warmth was gone.
His vision seemed to clear as he registered that you’d moved back ever so slightly, a glint in your eye at the small needy noise that left his lips. A red blush covered his cheeks as he realised he’d made that sound. That he’d just tried to kiss a girl half his age and he’d actually been disappointed that you’d pulled back.
“The lights green.” You smiled sitting back in your chair like nothing had ever happened.
Art stared at you for a moment. He was fucked.
#challengers#challengers movie#art donaldson#art donaldson x reader#art donaldson fanfic#art donaldson imagine#art donaldson x you#art donaldson x y/n#art donaldson x female reader#art challengers#art donaldson smut#challengers x y/n#challengers x you#challengers x reader#patrick zweig#tashi duncan#tashi duncan x reader#tashi challengers#challengers patrick#.mine#.challengers#.artdonaldson
201 notes
·
View notes
Text
everything is blue!
— what colors do kunigami + bachira + kaiser + rin + nagi + otoya + nanase love in?
u guys can argue that they see love differently, but i j thought this was cute. tried another format for this btw lmk wyt
the deep maroon shade of the roses he buys for you; the scarlet stains you leave on his lips. rensuke kunigami sees love in red. yes, it’s pretty boring— maybe even expected from a good guy like him. but, it’s what he grew up associating love with, so why should anyone expect anything different from him? his scars and cuts all bleed red, the color of his love for you. it’s a fiery color that expresses all of his affections and desire to be your one and only in one simple shade. every piercing sun rise that overwhelms the gloomy dark sky with a burning red as he takes his morning jog reminds him of his passion for you. it also reminds him to work out, just so he’s strong enough to be your man— someone who’s strong enough to keep you safe from the world’s troubles, and be your hero. every valentine’s day, the corridors of his school are filled with red cut out hearts, and the only thing he can think about is you; the owner of his heart and body. to kunigami, red is love, and love is you.
the gentle flutter of a monarch butterfly landing on your nose after the two of you went butterfly catching; the orange juice that spills on to the plate after you had asked him to peel your orange. meguru bachira sees love in orange. he’s never had a friend he can trust will stay before. so when he falls for you, he falls hard and fast. no one else besides his mother has understood what he meant by his monster. so, it left him unbelievably jaw-dropped and star-struck when you told him of a similar monster that haunted you. his eyes shone a bright marigold to learn more about you and your monster; an imaginary friend that made life just as exciting for you as his has made soccer fun for him. all of a sudden, all he could think about was you, and how much he wanted to know everything about you. his mind— once filled with only hope for the next day to come, so that he could play more soccer, was suddenly overflowing with excitement for the next time he could talk to you again. just imagine— the lonely, weird kid finally meeting his match. but hey, misery loves company, right? who cares if the world is against him? fitting in would be too boring anyways. he’d rather have one person who understands him, than a world that supports him. they say that the color orange isn’t rare in nature. but, it isn’t common either. the same could be said for bachira. people who tolerate and accept him such as isagi, nagi, or aryu are a dime a dozen amongst geniuses such as himself. but, to find someone like you who can understand his eccentricity and what he means below the surface-level— you’re his one of a kind gem. one that’s his, and his alone.
the champagne blonde strands of hair that flow through your fingers; the gold rays of sun that shone on his skin after another win as he ran to the stands to kiss you. michael kaiser sees love in yellow. he really didn’t expect to fall in love with you. he kept trying to push you away by any means— undermining you, ignoring you, even physically pushing you away! but, your stubborn ass never got the point, and just thought that he’s always like that. that’s how he treats ness after all, so he just teases people he likes! your persistence eventually wore off his walls, and he finally allowed himself to be vulnerable. he finally let you into his life, and against his better judgment, told you about his mental scars. now, you were simply just too dangerous of a person to push away now, he’s told you far too much. well… he doesn’t see himself pushing you away anytime soon though. he’s found himself to be much more fond of your presence. when he’s with you, everything feels okay. he doesn’t question if he’s worthy of all this happiness— you make him forget all of it. after the cold winter of his childhood, spring has finally came. it’s why he buys you daffodils, instead of the roses he loves so much. while roses, blue ones, represent the impossible becoming reality, daffodils represent a new beginning— one where he hopefully doesn’t need to cling relentlessly to the past to evolve, and instead evolves to become a man you can proudly say you’re dating.
the sound of your footsteps on a football field after he practiced into the night for the nth time; the cute cactus plushie he won for you after you told him how cute it was. rin itoshi sees love in green. he knows that after his big brother abandoned him, he hasn’t been the kindest of people. which is why he was so confused as to why you still stayed. you were amazing— you could certainly have any other guy. but, you still wanted him! why is that? why do you want sae itoshi’s stupid little brother? after another night of questioning himself, he’s found his answer when you talk him through his emotions, and help him sort out his problems. it was because you actually cared for him. you knew rin isn’t as indifferent as he pretend to be. there was more to him than that. but, he’s wrapped that part of himself in chains and spikes, making sure he doesn’t get hurt again. he wasn’t sure if he could ever love the same way again. but, just as a plant needs tender care to grow, he needs you to be patient with him to let him heal and carefully take down the walls he built ever so meticulously.
the denim jeans you wear when he takes a nap on your lap; the stone color of the usually bright sky when it rains, which makes you have to stay the night in his apartment again. seishiro nagi sees love in blue. just like how he can rely on the sun to rise again the next day, nagi knows that he can always rely on you to be honest with him. his trust with you runs deeper than skin and bones. he knows he isn’t the most ideal boyfriend, he’s always afraid that you might leave him for someone who’s more outgoing with him one day. but, he always manages to remind himself that you’d tell him if he was lackluster in a certain way. but just because you’re saying he’s doing nothing wrong, it doesn’t mean he’s gonna remain the same lazy genius. for you, he’ll always try to improve and evolve to be someone whom you can rely on as well. like the bright blue sky that wakes everyone up in the morning every day without fail, nagi will never forget the moment you jumped into his life and promised that you’d stay until the end of times.
the bright mauve lights in the karaoke room whilst the two of you sang ‘i wanna dance with somebody’ by whitney houston; the vibrant violet takis bag carelessly dropped on the floor after the two of you fell asleep marathoning the harry potter series during the weekend. eita otoya sees love in purple. even though he was quite the lover-boy, he found relationships quite exhausting. having to date a high maintenance girl that needed to constantly go on dates and be given gifts was something that killed his vibe; very unenjoyable. so, he enjoyed it when he finally found you; someone who didn’t need the high life to have a good time. whether it’s the both of you speeding his car at 1 AM with some of your friends after blowing through 3 weeks worth of allowance money in one night, or staying over at your place and just doing whatever little arts and crafts sounded fun that day, you always had fun as long as the both of you were together. sure, at first, he just wanted to have some fun until the next one came along… but, he finally found himself to be enamored with someone. it isn’t so bad if he just doesn’t tell you that, right? all’s well that ends well..? either way, he finally feels fulfilled in a relationship, and like he might actually stay for a while this time. it’s fun, fresh, but still deep with an unspoken connection— just like the royal eloquence, yet playfulness, of purple.
the rosy blush of his cheeks when he saw you for the first time; the cherry blossom kitkats he shaped into a heart for your first valentine’s as a couple. nijiro nanase sees love in pink. being from the countryside of japan, he’s a stereotypical country boy. he was raised well by his grandparents, he’s been taught well in the likes of chivalry, and he’s unbelievably naive. oh, to be looked at the same way as the way nanase’s eyes gleam— star struck, at the sight of you. now, he doesn’t know what to do! his hearts’s all… what’s the word…? thumpy thumpy..! he can’t help, but get jittery whenever you’re around. this is what love feels like? it feels good! he wants to feel this fluttery feeling all the time. and to have that, he has to be your boyfriend. nothing can compare to the feeling of first love— slowly falling deeper and deeper into a pit that swallows him from the inside out. he feel like he’s drowning, but at the same time, it’s so gratifying, he can’t help but get addicted to the sound of syllables falling from your heaven-sent lips. he can tell you’re new at this too. you’re nervous— maybe even more nervous than him. but, hey! that’s alright. the two of you will go by this whole relationship thingy step by step. like how a pink rose is so delicate that it falls apart when crushed by the fist, he’ll make sure to be careful with your heart. as long as you promise to be careful with his.
#blue lock#bllk#blue lock x reader#bllk fluff#bllk x reader#bllk x you#blue lock rin#blue lock imagines#blue lock bachira#blue lock nagi#bllk rin#bllk imagines#bllk bachira#bllk kaiser#kunigami rensuke#bllk kunigami#kunigami x reader#blue lock kunigami#kunigami x you#blue lock meguru bachira#bachira x reader#bachira meguru#bachira x you#michael kaiser x you#kaiser x you#blue lock kaiser#nagi seishiro x reader#eita otoya x reader#nanase nijiro#rin itoshi x reader
128 notes
·
View notes
Text
Ok I love this so so much, it opens up so many new avenues for character development and shows that mha can have alignments other than chaotic evil and lawful good, and it present natsuo in a whole new light and it gives us so much potential for the other todorokis and their reactions when they find out
I want to yap about a few of said options so bear with me
First and the easiest, they don’t find out until Touya’s final scene when natsuo doesn’t try to stop him and Touya laughs maniacally and then the scene goes pretty similarly made natsuo steps in on his behalf maybe he just keeps his mom and sister out of the fight who knows
Then again maybe natsuo is just there for dabis dance and seconds what he’s says basically
Now for the (in my opinion) more fun options
How does Dabi react to natsuo being the mole? Does he even know at all, maybe they kept him in the dark to preserve the moles identity and make it as easy as possible for him to maintain his cover, but (that’s less fun) Dabi is a core member of the LOV so maybe he does know, and how would he react to that
Maybe he doesn’t care at all because he really does have no connection to or fucks to give about his family and natsuo can do whatever he wants, but i think he’d be just thrilled that another one of endeavors kids feeling the same way as him and wanting to take the bastard down
Now say what would Dabi do if natsuo wanted to get in on the action, he wants to be on the front lines, more involved than just a rat
Does Dabi stop him? Maybe, maybe some tiny burnt shrivelled part of his heart still beats for his little brother and doesn’t want to see him hurt, so maybe he draws his line in the stand
But what if he does let him? Is it because he really doesn’t care, doesn’t see natsuo’s as a brother anymore so what difference does it make to him, or is it because deep down he wants to fight with his brother against the man who hurt them both
Either way I don’t think he be allowed to fight cause they’d want to preserve his anonymity, makes him a better spy, my question is, does Dabi breathe a sigh of relief or disappointment
And in any of these scenarios really, does natsuo get to know who Dabi is, does Dabi give up his own identity to know his brother again, or does he maintain his cover and observe from the sidelines, assuming of course that he cares enough to watch at all
Now, what about fuyumi?
I find it hard to believe she doesn’t know unless she doesn’t want to, and maybe that’s the case, maybe she knows somethings up with natsuo, hears just enough cryptic calls, sees just enough sneaking around, knows just enough, to know she doesn’t want to know anymore, she leaves it at that, content to live in the dark where things make sense and she can keep the peace a little easier
I think she knows, and it bring up, does she tell?
I mean she should right, to protect her father and her littlest brother and everyone really, she should tell, it’s the right choice
But natsuo is her little brother too, and to protect him she has to keep quiet, what does she do
I think she probably tries to reason with natsuo, maybe not to incriminate himself but to stop, he’s not in too deep yet (she hopes) he can get out, even if they reveal his identity it won’t be hard to spin up that he was under duress or being manipulated, they can fix it
But he doesn’t want that, he doesn’t want to stop and he certainly doesn’t want to cover his own ass and hang the others out to fry, and he tries to explain it to her, why he has to do this
And she gets it, she really does, the desire to hurt their father for everything he’s done, to burn the system that let him do it, to hate everything that he is, everything that made him and everything that he’s made, she gets it, probably more than anyone else, more than natsuo even knows (cause after all, she’s fuyumi, how could she hate so deeply to know his, how could she hate so much and still do what she does)
But it can’t be worth this, it can’t be worth so many innocent lives, can it?
She should tell, she knows she should, she can make the perfect argument for it too, in her head, she’s protecting her father, Shouto, every innocent hero, student, and civillian that will be caught in the crossfire of their war, and natsuo wont back down, he won’t stop, he’ll keep pushing and pushing until he’s in the middle of this stupid fight too, he’ll get hurt, in the long run it’ll be so much worse for him too if she doesn’t tell, so she should, and she knows it, she knows all the reasons it’s the right choice
But there’s a burning feeling, an ache in her chest she’d thought she’d long since filled with ice, for the fire Touya bared to the world, for the kindness that used to live in their fathers eyes, for the life in their mothers, for the innocent in all of them, and that fire in her heart she’d buried beneath the glaciers in her lungs forcing her to bite her tongue, it burns for something, something some would call vengeance, and others would call justice, it’s the same thing really, for her at least, isn’t it? And she wants to consume the world in that fire, her father, the commission, the society that lets women be bought, children be bred in a lab, abused and killed by men who will never see the consequences, and then be sent to a war they had no part in starting, canon fodder, pawns on a board so big they’ll never find the edge, and certainly not the people moving them, she wants all of it to burn, and burn and burn, until it burns itself out, and all the ashes are lost, buried beneath a layer of fresh snow, that melts to water new grass and flowers, things that have never known war, or pain or abuse like she has, things new and untouched by everything that’s tainted them
So maybe she doesn’t tell, because she knows it’s the right thing, but, what if, this one time she didn’t do the right thing?
And Shouto can’t know, he just can’t, he’s too good, to perfect, to heroic, he wouldn’t understand, he didn’t feel what they all felt, not really, even fuyumi, who natsuo trusted but was never totally sure of when it came to stuff like this (but for some reason Dabi knew, he would have gone under oath, sworn against all but his name, that she wouldn’t tell, because natsuo knew fuyumi the big sister, but Touya knew fuyumi the girl) she understood something that Shouto just didn’t, couldn’t, not the way he was now, he never really took much notice of his siblings oddities anyway, I mean, how was he to know if they were really oddities at all
Obviously Endeavor doesn’t get to know until they want him to, until they can hurt them the most with it, but neither does rei, cause she was a victim too, but maybe they can’t get over it, maybe they can’t accept that she keeps choosing him, and even if she didn’t, they can’t trust her, not really, because they don’t know her, not really, no one does I don’t think, because they know rei the mom, rei the wife, rei the patient, but none of those are her are they?
So they get to it, the dance, when all is revealed to the world, and sure Endeavor looks shocked, and natsuo tries to, and wow when did he become such a good liar, fuyumi was alone when she saw it on tv, she didn’t have anyone to pretend for, and she didn’t, she didn’t look shocked, she didn’t look knowing either, she looked… not sad, sad wasn’t the word for it, maybe resigned? Resigned to it, because she knew, she didn’t know of course, no one could have, but she’d see the photos of Dabi posted everywhere, seen the footage, and those were her eyes, and that was the way Touya used to throw the first punch, and that scar hidden by all the others, it was older, and fuyumi remembered laughing at her big brother for tripping over a ball while she pushed a bandaid over just the same spot, so no she didn’t know, but if she honest she did
And when the big moment finally came, natsuo stood with fuyumi, but they both had this strange look of calm to themselves, not quite the panicked civilian they should have been, and when she stood together and wielded their “weak” quirks they were so strong, strong enough to stand behind their older brother, strong enough to cool him off and coat his limbs in fuyumis frost, while natsuo made every effort to blast their father back, it may not have been obvious to an outsider who’s side they stood on, but to the todorokis it was more than clear who, what, they’d chosen
Endeavor didn’t die that day, but neither did Touya, he would go to prison for a long time, but with twice weekly visitations he doubted he’d be lonely
Natsuo and fuyumi made the wrong choice this time, and if anyone can ever prove it beyond their family’s word, then they’ll be in matching outfits with their big brother, but maybe that’s not the worst thing in the world, because for once, their wrong choice finally felt right, they felt free
Honestly, I think it would have been really interesting if Natsuo had been the traitor.
He had a hell of a motive. Older brother is killed in a tragic accident brought about because of their father, younger brother is abused by their father, mother is institutionalized because of his father, and Endeavor faces justice for absolutely none of it.
All of a sudden this news broadcast showing Stain yelling for the public to open their eyes to the false heroes among them happens...just saying, that could have appealed to more than one of the Todoroki siblings.
And with Shouto a UA student, that places Natsuo in a prime position to potentially gather information about classes on and off campus. He wouldn't be an active member of the LoV; he's just the mole. It might be a stretch to say he wanted Shouto in harm's way, but if you remember that Shouto was exhibiting the exact same anger and arrogance Endeavor had, there was room for a narrative where Natsuo reached a, "Fuck, now there's two of them," mentality and didn't care what happened to him. And that only expands on the betrayal. Shouto realizes he's on a path to become his father, then starts trying to reconnect with his mother and estranged siblings. Natsuo doesn't even have to approach him to form a connection.
...
Shouto: Why did you do this?
Natsuo: If you had any original thoughts of your own, you'd have done it, too. But I guess it's not your fault Endeavor raised you to be a puppet.
Shouto: This isn't who you are.
Natsuo: *not even anger at this point, just pity* Are you sure? Can you say with any certainty that you know any of your siblings? Or am I just the one who went to college, Fuyumi is the one who cooks, and Touya is the one who died?
290 notes
·
View notes
Note
Zoro with a younger girl who is like his little sister who has been beside him for years headcannons plsss and maybe his reaction to her x luffy?
Miss Roronoa
Zoro with a Lil sister headcannons
Zoro x younger sister! Reader
Reader x Luffy
✧。:゚ ゚:。✧:゚ ゚:。✧。:゚ ゚:。✧✧。:゚ ゚:。✧:゚ ゚:。✧。:゚ ゚:。✧
❥ First and foremost, like almost all older brothers, Zoro would be protective of his lil sister.
Anywhere she wants to go off the ship, he's coming along with. Not because he doubts she could take care of herself but because, and I quote, "I don't want you getting lost or something." To which he'd get a 'Thats some bs' look from not only you but from anyone nearby who heard.
❥ Ussop and Nami side-eyeing from the side.
❥ Before the both of you joined the crew you'd work as sort of the nurse whenever he'd get injured in a fight or even during training, even when you were little kids. So ofcourse he'd pay back the favour by teaching you how to fight too -mainly because he doesn't want you getting picked on by other kids and also as a form of bullying you himself.
"C'mon, pick up the sword and fight me!"
"Why don't you drop the other two swords and we can have a fair fight?"
He'd just stare at you, mind piecing together a heinous plan. His grin widening into an evil one.
"What if I give you a little tap then?"
"MOOMMM! ZORO'S TRYING TO FIGHT ME AGAIN!"
❥ Remember that interview he had when he was asked how he lived before joining the crew? Where he'd say he'd kill the sea king and eat it whole. He'd give you a tiny portion of the share. Just to tease you. "You didn't kill it so you don't decide how much you'll get." Meanwhile he placed another larger portion when you're not looking.
❥He wouldn't say "I love you." to you. Brothers don't usually do that. He'd probably laugh at you when you do something dumb or fall over and if cameras were around at that time, he'd take a picture before helping you up
Or say something like:
"Tell me if someone's bothering you. I'll handle them."
❥ Siblings look the same one way or another. So let's just say one of the many things that shouts out that you two are related is your green hair. People who've heard rumours are already scared enough of the name Roronoa Zoro but they tremble even more when they find out he has a sister just as dangerous. Maybe even more.
❥ Sanji. Just that would be a whole case for Zoro.
Sanji treats you like a princess as he does for all women. But the moment Zoro even comes to his line of vision he's a certified hater.
"You're always so beautiful!!" ♡(♡‿♡)♡
"Thank you Sanji, you're beautiful too." (✿^‿^)
"I did not just hear you call that Cook "beautiful"" (ಠಿ_ಠ)
"You say "Cook" like it's a slur."
❥ And Finally like most brothers, he definitely disapproves of any xy chromosome.
When you were still little, he'd chase off any boy who even dared to look at you romantically. Maybe even glare at anyone who went inside your personal space. It wouldn't be in an overbearing way; he'd understand that you wanna live your life.
So when he could see something brew between you and his captain, he was cautious. Don't get it wrong, Luffy is his friend and captain, he'd trust the rubbery man with his life. But you're his sister and he'll still look out for you. Maybe knock some sense into Luffy about some things just in case.
''Luffy.''
''Yeah, Zoro?''
''Hurt her and I'll-''
''Wouldn't dream of it.''
❥ Sanji would be sulking in the corner, tissues and tears at the fact that Luffy got a girlfriend before him.
#x reader#one piece x reader#zoro#one piece#roronoa zoro#monkey d. luffy#luffy#luffy x reader#one piece x you
105 notes
·
View notes
Note
this one is going to be on the angstier, sadder side but Lu's gf goes through a miscarriage. they really wanted this baby, they even found out it was going to be a boy, gave him a name but soon after she started bleeding. she's inconsolable, lu is trying his best to be strong for her but after awhile he breaks down too and lets himself cry for his gf's pain and for the son he'll never get to meet
warnings: angst, miscarriage, blood
oh, anon :( this request is so heartbreaking but it’s reality. as someone who hopefully wants to be a mother one day, this is a very sensitive topic but!!! I’m happy to share my thoughts.
lu and his gf had been together for a few years and wanted to take their relationship to the next level. you guys decided to start a family, you both wanted a couple of kids together. breeding kink iykyk… after months of trying, and many doctors appointments, the test in front of you turned positive. you guys were having a baby. you and lu had never been happier, this pregnancy had brought you two even closer. he was always showing you articles about the importance of the mother's and baby’s health, even starting to book baby classes to take you to!!!
a short three months of pregnancy had come to an end. one morning you had woken up to cramping and went to the bathroom. when you pulled down your pants there was a stream of blood. the sight causes your whole body to tense, you can’t breathe, and your eyes begin to well with tears. you choke out sobs, placing your hand on your mouth to conceal the noise, not wanting to wake up lu. your mind was racing, how were you going to tell him? he was so excited to finally meet your guys, baby, he basically told you every day. you were going to miss the feeling of his hand placed on your bump, would you guys ever get this chance again?
getting back into bed, you don’t even know what to say to lu. your face is flushed and your eyes are bloodshot from crying. he turns over and slowly opens his eyes to study your face, his face turns shocked to see the tears fresh from your face.
“oh baby, what’s wrong? did something happen?” he practically leaps into you, holding you in his arms. you break down into hysterics, babbling what had just occurred. you apologize even for what happened,
“amore mio no, this is not your fault. this is natural, it could just be hormonal imbalances,” he says to try and comfort you. you know he’s hurting too, the tears welling in his eyes. you feel like something had just been ripped away from you, it wasn’t fair. it broke your heart even more to see how lu was trying to stay strong to comfort you, but he was hurting aswell.
a couple of hours after breaking the horrible news, lu broke down too. his sobs were inconsolable, he held on working through the shock as well, and he held onto you so tight. you placed kisses across his forehead and whispered assuring murmurs in his ear. you knew that at the moment that you two needed to be together more than ever, you would work through this together.
#luigi mangione#luigi mangione x reader#luigi mangione fanfiction#luigi mangione x yn#free luigi#the adjuster#ceo shooting#deny defend depose#fanfiction#luigi mangione fic#luigi nicholas mangione
86 notes
·
View notes
Text
a shooting star in his hand - sae x f!reader fluff, first meeting, cafe meet cute
He's been in line for 15 minutes.
Granted, it's not really anyone's fault. You, standing in front of him, have said your order with polite clarity, a gentle smile on your face directed to the barista in front of you that has "TRAINEE" on a metal plate. There's a woman behind her showing her how to steam the milk, telling her to put the bagel in the oven.
Learning takes time. Sae, too, knows this. Most people don't wake up with abilities built into them, not like his brother did the first time they played football together. Sae didn't. He held the ball at his feet almost as soon as he could walk. He let it eclipse his life, rotated around it like the earth does to the sun, until he knew it to perfection, to both creation and destruction.
But he'd appreciate if learning didn't happen when he was the only other person in line on his way to the stadium.
"Sorry about that." You're looking at him. Talking to him, he processes a little too slowly this morning.
He takes in your body language clinically, the way you're tapping your fingertips over the back of your phone case, your tilted head and nervous smile.
The fireburn of irritation behind his eyes falls immediately, like a weight dropped, and the calm lake of his usual demeanor returns. "It's fine."
That's the reassurance he's supposed to give, right? You turn to peer over the counter, and a keychain dangles from the zipper of your bag.
"Blue Lock?" He says it before he can stop himself, more shock than anything else.
"Hm? Oh!" You hold the keychain delicately in your palm, the glean of it catching the light the same way your smile does. "Yeah! One of the guys who was in it lives in my building. He was holding this whole box of merch for the anniversary a couple months ago? He handed me one in the elevator."
"You watch?" You're beaming up at him, but you seem more nervous about your food than you do talking to him. He's trying to see if…
"Oh, nah. I don't really watch sports. Do you?"
So that explains the lack of recognition. "I play."
"Oh! Football? Oh, that's hella cool." Words flow casually for you, an easygoing melody. "I always wanted to get into sports when I was a kid."
The cashier hands you your order with a bow of her head and an apology, and the payment barcode flashes on the screen. Before your bank app can even load up —
There's a beep, and you look up at him with wide eyes and a slack jaw. "Wha- That was my order!"
"I know." He doesn't even spare you a glance, looking directly at the cashier to list off his drink with a monotone cadence.
"Okay, wait, at least let me-" Your bag slides open over your shoulder, a shuffling that he inevitably interrupts.
"No need." It's tart, said with a finality that has you giving a resigned sigh.
"Well, thank you. Genuinely." There's a shift to your bag again in the corner of his eye that he refuses to acknowledge. "If you're not going to take my money, at least take this."
Maybe it's confusion or curiosity that has him finally turning to you, a closing distance that you cross between you both that he has every opportunity to move away from. He doesn't. Instead, he looks down to find there's a card in his hand, a sticky note on top with a number and a name.
"My personal number, if you're single. And my business card, in case you'd like that kind of favor instead." There's that sing-song voice of yours, gentle as the wind, more pleasant than he'd like to admit. "A nice gesture deserves one in return, no? Not sure if it'll come up, but if you ever need someone in this industry, I can be your girl."
Your voice wavers, he notices. Shakes but doesn't stutter. He meets your eyes, gazing up at him with something between both nervousness and surety, or maybe more like bravery despite fear. A vulnerability he never dares to share himself. But on you, somehow, he admires it. Finds it daring — to stand in a moment on shaky legs without a pre-calculated estimation of how it would go.
His girl. Something about it feels like a flicker of fire in his gut, the lap of a flame brushing against the bottom of his heart.
He pockets the note with a nod, grabbing his drink with one hand and rushing out the door with another.
(He calls, that night. With a restaurant in mind and a reservation in place. Sae doesn't believe in serendipity, in fate, in the idea that the universe would grant a prize to him in particular.
Maybe it's just pure luck, falling into place in his life. A shooting star he manages to catch in his hand.)
author's note: thank you for reading and supporting me as always :)) a lil secret message here that i'll be opening requests via a valentines event tomorrow!! in precisely 16 hours from this being posted ahaha so if u like my writing please keep a look out for that!!
#i loved writing this so so much#so if u see this please give this a chance and lmk what u think :))#(i could hate it tomorrow. but in this moment i am a happy girl over this)#fragments of memories: drabble#fragments of memories: selfship#submerge and awaken: sae#fragments of memories: sae#sae x reader#itoshi sae x reader#sae itoshi x reader
98 notes
·
View notes
Text
Aw welcome back, Wayne!! 😘 I'm so happy to hear that you've been thinking of this series. 🥰 And I'm so excited to see what you thought of Part 2...
I'm so in love with their little bonding sessions. Being stuck inside a cabin and playing games? I want that 😍
Aww it's the little moments with Dean that I would so love -- along with just being snowed in, in a cabin with him. 😏
And lol it's gotta be so awkward for true mates when they're still strangers. I absolutely adored her thought process throughout 😆
Lolll YEP exactly. 😆 Like, realistically how do you broach that conversation with someone? I'm glad you liked that attempt to inject some realism there. 🤣
Love how Dean doesn't realize he's oversharing and that his whole childhood might not have been normal 😂
ahaha Dean got so into his story he didn't realize he was giving himself away there! Bit of a rookie move, but she's his literal soulmate, so he's probably a little distracted. 🤪
And oh God, all those journal entries 😭😭😭 I know they're from the OG journal, but it just rips my heart right out again rereading it 😢 Those portray John's despair and heartbreak way better than the show did...
Girl I had never read the official journal, and it hit me in the feels in just the same way. 😭 I had that exact same thought -- that they served to humanize John and explain why he became the way he was with the boys way better than the show did.
Ooooh, let's think about it, shall we? 😏 Her dad might have totally been snatched by something supernatural. Considering their location and how it happened in her memories, it might have been a Wendigo?? 🤔
Ooh you're red-hot! ❤️🔥❤️🔥
Dude! Goosebumps! Wendigos scare the shit outta me 🙈 It's still why The Descent is the scariest movie for me. I die from a heart attack every time 😂 🫣
ooooh my God, I haven't seen The Descent, but if it's anything like the Wendigo episode, than I don't wanna know. 😭 Legit when I was first starting to watch SPN I had to take a break after that episode -- and it was only episode 2!! 😩
No! Alex!!!! YOU KNOW THIS IS WHY I HATE SNOOPING Girl, you're killing me here... 😆😆
LOLL I love that you referenced Smoke Eater -- it's those same vibes from Part 8, isn't it? I have a little less sympathy for the reader in this situation, but she is ultimately sorry for going through his private journal/invading his privacy to the nth degree. 😅
OMGG I LOVED that gif of the little polar bear. 🥹🥹 Took me right out with the cuteness lmao. I laughed so hard at all your commentary with the reader and her lack of bear knowledge. 😝
N'aw, I know it was necessary but poor bear – wrong place, wrong time for the fella 🥺💔
Aww I know, I felt bad for writing that part. Poor Ted. 😭😭
My heart is full 😭❤️❤️❤️ (Also, I doubt he can ever stand to let her go her own way after this lmao)
Ha! You're right about that one. I just love me some protective Alpha Dean. 😏
Huh. Never eaten bear before... Never even thought about it before lol Also seems like something the Shaws would've done 😂
Me either lmao, but I've read about people who actually hunt for a living who survive off bear, caribou, bison, etc. I imagine it's a hard way to live, but omg yeah I could see Ashton making his kids learn how to shoot, but them not wanting to shoot a bear or a deer. 😭
Omg I love that ending! Dean's finally coming around, and she's putting the puzzle pieces about her dad together. I wonder what Dean will do when he hears the full story? Would he go hunt the thing? Is it even still out there??? Questions upon questions... 🤔
Aw I'm glad! Yesss it's about time with him lol. Good thing all your questions there will be answered in Part 3...
So excited for the next part!! I'm loving this story and everything you've put in it, and the dynamic between them is amazing. So well done, friend 😍🩵🩵
Aw thank you so much, my friend!! I tried to balance the slower "getting to know you" parts with some of this actiony/dramatic stuff as they slowly grow closer. 🥰💜💜
Also, don't think I forgot about the last two chapters of Polaris. I'm so looking forward to diving into those chapters soon!! 😘
Against the Wind - Part 2
Pairing: Alpha!Dean Winchester x F. Omega!Reader
Summary: You wake up in a strange alpha’s cabin in the middle of a snowstorm, all with a busted ankle. He holds shadows in his eyes, even though his hands are gentle. There are iron shutters around his heart, even though he saved you. You might just save him in return.
AN: Thank you guys so much for all the amazing feedback on Part 1! Now, most of your theories and questions will be answered...
Jacklesverse Bingo24 Prompt: True Mates @jacklesversebingo
Song Inspo: “Against the Wind” by Bob Seger
Word Count: 3.8K
Tags/Warnings: Angst, and peril, the other kind of "hunting."
Series Masterlist || Bingo Masterlist
Part 2: Seems Like Yesterday
“I’ll raise you 25,” you say, tossing five chocolate covered pretzels into the middle pile. It’s a risky bet, considering how much you lost in the last hand. Dean regards you with an amused, if critical eye while he holds his cards.
“Ooh, you’re bluffing,” he says. You pop your brows at him, a subtle smile tugging at your lips.
“You want to test that theory? Put your money where your mouth is,” you challenge.
He tilts his head at you with a raise of his own brows.
“Cheeky omega,” he mutters. His attention returns to his cards as he deliberates on his next move.
You attempt to be nonchalant as you glance down at your cards again. It’s a shitty hand, but he doesn’t need to know that. The alpha’s won the last two hands of Texas Hold ‘Em, but you did win the first one. Though you suspect he let you win.
You want to at least even the score before he resumes his work out in the shed. He spends most of his time there during the day, or making sure the firewood is stocked. It seems like he takes any excuse not to spend too much time in your presence.
More than anything, you want to ask him if he feels what you feel—the same tug in the pit of your stomach every time he’s nearby. You just haven’t found a way to broach that with him.
Hey, I know we just met like two minutes ago, but I think we’re supposed to be together. Do you feel it too?
You nearly roll your eyes at yourself. Yeah, that’ll go over well.
So you have to be content with mornings like this and in the evenings, where he lets you put on one of his records, and you two share dinner together, maybe another round of cards. Or you’ll read a book while lounging on the chaise, and he lays out on the couch, listening to his music with his eyes closed. You like watching him like that, with a relaxed, damn near peaceful set to his face.
Too often he holds that harder, stoic expression, or that divot between his brows that makes you want to soothe two of your fingers there; or better yet, lean in and press your lips—
“It’s your move,” Dean reminds you. He’s finally played his hand, but you were too distracted to hear what he said.
“What’d you do?” you ask, surveying the piles of cards.
“Call,” he repeats, popping a few pretzels into his mouth. He washes it down with beer and more barbeque chips. Those are worth $10 in this little fantasy betting. He points a finger towards you with the same hand that holds his beer, teasing, “You got all the lights on in there? Or am I boring you?”
You glance up at him, fighting a smile. “All right, keep your pants on. Let me see…”
As the dealer, he’s already turned over the River: the last card in the hand. It’s a 10 of Clubs, which means your One Pair is actually a Two Pair. It’s still not a great hand, but it’s decent enough to maybe let you get the best of your opponent.
After you go “all in,” Dean’s lips twitch at a smile, and he humors you, going all in as well. You’re on tenterhooks when he finally reveals his hand.
“Ooh, it ain’t a cheesy ‘90s sitcom, but it’s still…a Full House,” he brags as he lays out each card in a smooth line of overlapping cards, the mix of glossy red diamonds and black spades showing the truth. He won again.
You huff in defeat, your shoulders sinking in your seat at the kitchen table. You turn over your measly hand. Sweeping the winnings toward himself (a mound of chocolate covered pretzels, a stack of barbecue chips, and a handful of Oreos), Dean chuckles and tosses you a wink.
“Ah, don’t beat yourself up, sweetheart. I’ve been hustlin’ poker for a long time. Hell, I’ve been playing this game before I even knew my times tables,” he says as he collects the cards.
“That young?” you reply. “Who taught you?”
“My dad,” he says. “Oh, believe me, I used to get my ass kicked many a’ time, but by the time I turned sixteen, I was hustlin’ grown ass men in skeevy bars out of their daily paycheck.”
“You were hanging out in bars at sixteen?” you ask incredulously. There, Dean seems to realize he’s said too much. He becomes more guarded as he puts away the deck and cleans the crumbs off the table.
“My dad was always working. You could say I didn’t really have a curfew,” he says.
“A latchkey kid, huh?” you reply, hiding the way you’re trying so hard to glean any more hints of truth between his words.
“Heh, yeah.” He gets up from the table and tosses the breakfast dishes in the sink, then travels to the front door to don his jacket and boots.
“All right, I’ll be out back,” he says.
Out back, code for out in the shed. You nod, and in a flash, he’s shutting the door behind him.
You’ve learned another small tidbit about him, one that feels more important than it seems on the surface. And yet, it only elicits more questions you doubt he’ll be willing to answer so easily. He’s more than tight-lipped about his past, only giving vague outlines and general pictures.
Even his stories—like being raised up in a family of traveling mechanics, putting Nair in Sam’s shampoo when he was a kid, or the guy’s serious fear of clowns—feel like they’re missing some key details.
You decide to take up your crutches and head for your room. There you unearth the journal from its hiding place under your pillow. This time, you turn to the very beginning. Before all the jargon about mythology (and an odd footnote about a “Turducken Slammer”), there are actual journal entries. The first one dates back to November 6, 1983. The first line already captures your attention.
I buried my wife today. Even as I write that down, I don’t believe it. Last week we were a normal family…eating dinner, going to Dean’s T-ball game, buying toys for baby Sammy. But in an instant, it all changed… When I try to think back, get it all straight in my head…I feel like I’m going crazy. Like someone ripped both my arms off, plucked my eyes out. I’m wandering around, alone and lost and I can’t do anything.
This is Dean’s father, you realize. The more that you read, with no small amount of dismay, you also realize that this man is writing about his wife, Mary.
Dean’s mom…
He writes about their house burning with all their memories inside, along with Mary. Somehow, he saw her pinned bloody to the ceiling.
Along with these pages is a clipping from a news story:
House Fire Kills Mother of Two
Lawrence, Kansas.
You’re spellbound by it all. You keep reading.
November 13, 1983
…Most of our clothes and photos are ruined, even our safe—the safe with Mary’s old diaries, the boys’ savings bonds, what little jewelry we had…all gone. How could my house, my whole life, go up like that, so fast, so hot? How could my wife just burn up and disappear?
The police don’t believe his story, about how she died before the fire, about what he saw. So he tries to convince himself that what he saw wasn’t real. Still, he can’t find rest, and he worries about his sons’ safety.
December 4, 1983
I haven’t let them out of my sight since the fire. Dean still hardly talks. I try to make small talk, or ask him if he wants to throw the baseball around. Anything to make him feel like a normal kid again. He never budges from my side—or from his brother.
Every morning when I wake up, Dean is inside the crib, arms wrapped around baby Sam. Like he’s trying to protect him from whatever is out there in the night.
Sammy cries a lot, wanting his mom. I don’t know how to stop it, and part of me doesn’t want to. It breaks my heart to think that soon he won’t remember her at all.
You don’t realize you’re crying until a droplet lands on the page. You quickly wipe it away before it becomes a stain, and you dry it all the way with your breath before you move on to the next page, sniffling. Your heart hurts, even as your guilt grows. You know now that you’re really, truly invading Dean’s privacy by reading his father’s words. You just can’t stop yourself from turning the next page.
John becomes convinced that someone, or something, started the fire that destroyed his life and took his wife away from him and his sons. He leaves his job and the remnants of that world behind, to venture deeper into the darker one. But in that darkness, he finds truth.
He visits a psychic, Missouri, who leads him back to his house and senses the echoes of an evil presence—something that shakes her to the core, and John too: the creature that killed his wife.
December 20
…She told me that it was the most powerful, awful thing she’s ever come across.
On January 1, 1984, John makes a New Year’s resolution. He determines to find the answers himself.
A shiver runs down your spine. In John’s words, your heart breaks for Dean, but you also see yourself. You try not to think about why.
You keep flipping through the rest of the journal past January. There are translations of a Latin exorcism, and like you read before, strange drawing of evil looking creatures—as well as what they are, scraps of their history, and how to kill them.
Silver bullet to the heart, can’t withstand iron, salt and burn.
You pause on a certain page, more filled with lore than the rest, and a primitive drawing in the center.
WENDIGO
Cree: Evil that devours.
Wood spirit. Eats live flesh. Lives in forests.
Perfect hunter.
Your breath stills in your lungs as a cold sweat forms across your skin. The more you read, the faster your heart beats.
The crunch of dead leaves. Your father shouting at you to run, and keep running.
The coarse shout of a bear morphs into something other. It’s a sharper, whirring sound like wind howling amidst animalistic clicking, and then bones breaking—your father’s scream cut short. You turn around with your rifle in hand, poised to shoot blindly.
Your stomach churns as bile rises into your throat. You feel sick, and wrong, and you suddenly have the urge to throw the journal against the wall.
“Omega?” calls Dean’s sharp voice. “You okay?”
You jolt badly at the sudden noise. You didn’t hear him reenter the house. He likely caught the scent of your distress. He pushes the door of your room open to find you, but he stops short in the doorway. His surprise quickly morphs into a frown when he notices what you’re holding in your lap.
You gasp, freezing where you sit, but there’s no point in trying to cover up what you’ve done. With an angry purse of his lips, he reaches over and takes the journal from your hands.
“What the hell are you doing with this?” he demands.
“I’m…I’m sorry. I just—” You swallow past the lump in your throat. “I was just curious. I wanted to know more about you. I thought it was…a normal journal.”
“So this is how you go about it, huh? Got everything you wanted, Columbo?” he says, his sarcasm cutting into you. He flips through the journal to make sure all the pages are intact before he tucks the journal under his arm. “Seriously, going into somebody’s stuff? Who the hell raised you?”
At that, you begin to bristle.
“My dad,” you snap back. Though remembering the passages you’ve lived with for the past few hours, you soften with a painful twinge of sympathy in your heart.
“And it looks like yours raised you to be some kind of…well, what are you, a ghostbuster or something?” you ask.
His jaw locks. “Or something.”
With an exasperated sigh at his hedging, you swing your legs around the edge of the bed and haul yourself up with your crutches so you can at least match his stance (more or less).
“Dean, please, just talk to me,” you implore, gesturing at the journal tucked under his arm. “The things I read—”
“Are none of your goddamn business!” he growls, making the omega inside you cringe. The alpha’s voice is deep and sharp, and even though he isn’t crowding you, his height and broadness are still intimidating.
“The sooner you heal up, the sooner I can ship you back to where you belong,” he says. “Back to your life, so you can stop sticking your nose into mine.”
Your mouth actually falls open in shock. His vehement words feel almost as powerful as a physical blow, if to your soul. They make your arms tremble while holding yourself upright on your crutches. Hot tears well up in your eyes, though you try to blink them away. After a moment, you’re able to collect yourself enough to speak.
“I’m sorry for going through your stuff,” you say, in a quiet voice.
You hobble awkwardly past him out of the room. You don’t stop until you reach the front door, where your snow boots are. You manage to get them on by yourself so you can go outside and get some fresh air, not to mention some much needed distance from the alpha’s burning presence. You can still feel him trailing behind you. You hear his heavy boots.
“Where the hell are you going?” he grits out.
You hobble faster.
Dean watches you go out the door without a word in irritation, even though it triggers an alarm deep in his gut every time you leave the safety of the cabin.
The snow depth has lightened somewhat since the storm, but it’s still not easy to navigate on your crutches. You get some distance from the cabin, mindful not to go too far. You know you’re limited, and you didn’t even take a gun with you.
Finding a solid tree to lean on, you rest there and try in vain to stifle your tears. You know you were wrong for snooping, and he had a right to be mad, but did he really have to be such a freakin’ bear?
Fucking alphas. I swear.
You thought you were starting to connect with him, but clearly, Dean wants nothing to do with you. He wants you out of his life.
Does he not feel the same pull you feel to him? Does he really not realize…that he’s meant to be your mate?
You take in a shaky breath through your nose. If he does, apparently he doesn’t care.
Just then, you hear the crunch of snow nearby. Twigs snapping.
Your body stiffens with a terrible memory—of that day in the woods. Your breath comes out in short puffs on the cold air, your eyes wide as you listen closely.
Hearing nothing, you allow yourself to breathe a little easier. You venture a few paces forward and to the right, but you stop shy of how it slopes downward. Some unnamed feeling tells you to look over the edge.
You lean over and cast your gaze down the slope, but all you see is snow and trees down below. With a shaky breath, you lean back and look out to the north again. Plodding along the trail, heading towards you, is a bear.
Oh shit…
You remember Dean mentioning something about a bear passing by his cabin a couple of days before the storm. Looks like he’s back to make his rounds.
His fur is dark; from this distance, you can’t tell if it’s a black bear or a grizzly. It doesn’t make much difference when all you have on your person is a can of bear spray. His gait is massive, unhurried, but he lets out a braying sound when your gaze meets his, as if acknowledging you. He stops there for a moment, assessing. Your body locks up with fear.
The bear groans again, this time sharper. You finally snap out of your reverie and force your body to move slowly backward with your crutches spearing into the snow. The cabin isn’t that far, maybe thirty or forty yards at most. Still, the bear can probably beat you.
Instead of trying to run, you stand your ground and shout at the bear, hoping he’ll back off. Your voice dies in your throat when he rears up on his hind legs, with a loud roar. Trembling, you miss a step and get knocked back into the snow on your ass, your crunches falling out at your sides. You scramble inside your jacket for anything that might help you.
Bear spray!
You hurry to get the cap off with shaking hands, but before you can even aim, the creature’s heave paws thudding into the ground in front of you—a gunshot rings out and hits the animal in the chest.
The bear falters, then roars in pain and anger.
Two more shots finally bring it down to an even heavier thud, not far from your feet.
In this moment, these are the things you don’t know about Dean Winchester:
For one, the scent of an omega in distress always calls to an alpha’s protective instincts. But the scent of your abject fear feels like someone tried to rip his lungs out through his stomach.
Second, when he sees you there, your wide, shiny eyes filled with the remnants of panic, yet relief at the sight of him, it takes everything within him not to drop to his knees, grab you by the hair, sink his teeth into your neck and claim you, right there in the snow. Maybe then you’d start listening to him and stop taking your life into your hands.
Instead, his lips purse as he wracks his rifle and slings the strap of it over his shoulder. He stalks toward you and scoops you up, crutches and all. He brings you back to the cabin without a word.
His jaw is once again locked with silence and strain; he doesn’t trust himself to speak until he’s brought you inside and carried you over to the chaise. He sits beside you there and takes an inventory of you with his eyes.
“You okay?” he asks at last.
You manage to meet his gaze and give a little nod.
“Okay. Don’t move,” he says shortly. He gets up and goes to the kitchen, where he grabs a foldable set of knives and a cooler from under the sink.
You watch him in silence, and you realize he’s going back to gut the bear. You didn’t know that he actually hunted out here…well, hunted to eat. He continues to gather items in silence. It gets to a point where you can’t stand it, or his curtness, any longer.
“Thank you,” you say, halting his steps. Dean glances at you over his shoulder, then continues strapping up his supplies. He huffs in response.
“We’re gonna be eatin’ good for a while,” he says without looking at you.
His attitude both hurts you and aggravates you, so much that you refuse to take it anymore.
“Look, Dean. I’m sorry, okay? I shouldn’t have butted into your life,” you say. Frustrated tears well up in your eyes. Expelling a sharp sigh, you amend yourself. “I’m sorry for invading your privacy. I’m sorry about what you went through, and I’m…I’m sorry about your mom. I’m sorry for today. I’ll just…stay out of your way, and I’ll leave as soon as I can.”
Dean finally turns your way, but your lips tremble as you turn your face away from him and shut your eyes tightly against the salty burn of tears. Deep inside, his heart withers in his chest. He sighs and drops his supplies on the couch. He walks over with those heavy boots, and he sits on the edge of the chaise beside you. He hesitates for a moment, but eventually, he rests a warm, calloused hand on your arm and earns your tearful gaze.
“I’m sorry. I, uh…shouldn’t have yelled at you,” he says.
You sniff, quickly wiping away your embarrassing tears as they come. Your cheeks are hot with it.
“What is it you wanna know? About me,” he asks, surprising you that much more.
Your mouth parts, but nothing comes out. It takes you some time to think, but the first thing that comes to your mind is…
“Everything in that journal,” you say, licking your dry lips. “Is it real?”
Dean holds your gaze steadily. You know the truth without him having to say it, but he does.
“I was a hunter,” he says. “Those things you read about, I found ‘em. Killed ‘em. It was my job.”
“And now?” you ask, once that large bit of information has time to set into your brain.
His lips tug at a half smile. “Consider me…mostly retired.”
You exhale softly, and you nod. It earns a furrowed look from Dean.
“You don’t seem all that freaked out by this,” he says, with a more scrutinizing gaze on you.
“Should I be?” you say, with an unsteady laugh.
He raises his brows. “In my experience, yeah.”
You chew on the inside of your lip. You don’t know if you should even put into words what you’ve been holding onto for months. Like John, no one believed you. Even your own mother had started to look at you like you needed a shrink.
“Omega?” Dean presses. His green eyes are perceptive as they take in the conflicted look on your face. “There something you wanna tell me?”
You deliberate for a moment longer. Then, you release a sigh and glance down at your hands clenching in your lap.
“A few months ago, I lost my dad,” you begin.
Dean nods. “Yeah, you said—”
“I lost him in these woods,” you say.
That quiets the alpha.
You shake your head, and you find your words as the memories that have been haunting your nights return to you.
“Like I said, we used to go hiking here every year…”
AN: Just so you know, all of the journal entries appear in the official "John's Journal" SPN merch. 😉
Next Time:
Unease prickles down your spine, though you don’t know why.
“Dad?” you whisper-yell, trying not to spook whatever animal might be out there.
A gunshot rings out, along with your dad’s voice in a shout. Your eyes widen in alarm, and you call his name louder, taking off in a run to find him.
You end up rising over a hill you hadn’t crossed before, but you see your dad below; you recognize his bright blue puffer jacket that Mom got him for his birthday. You call his name, and he looks up at you with fear in his eyes.
Not for himself, but for you.
▶️ Keep Reading: Part 3
Join My Patreon 🌟 Get early access to new stories, bonus content, and first looks at upcoming stories, send me requests, and more!
Series Masterlist
Jacklesverse Bingo Masterlist
Dean Winchester Series List
Dean Winchester Masterlist
Main Masterlist
Follow @zepskieswrites (with notifications on) to get notified every time I drop a new story or chapter. 💜
Dean Winchester Tag List
@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @mostlymarvelgirl
@thebiggerbear @roseblue373 @this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @deans-spinster-witch
@deans-baby-momma @sanscas @kaleldobrev @spnwoman @samanddeaninatrenchcoat
@globetrotter28 @adoringanakin @midnightmadwoman @chevroletdean @iprobablyshipit91
@chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @spnfamily-j2 @pieandmonsters
@deansbbyx @sarahgracej @chernayawidow @mimaria420 @stoneyggirl2
@fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like @waywardxwords @waynes-multiverse @twinkleinadiamondsky @mxltifxnd0m
@my-stories-vault @kayleighwinchester @rizlowwritessortof @samslvrgirl @tortureddarkstar
@tmb510 @syrma-sensei @artemys-ackles @malindacath @mrsjenniferwinchester
@jc-winchester @charmed-asylum @fromcaintodean @k-slla @jackles010378
@deanbrainrotwritings @urfav-tz @alwaystiredandconfused @mrlonelycat @deans-daydream
@deanwinchestersgirl87 @rachiem4-blog @sweettimelady @leigh70 @aylacavebear
@kmc1989 @siampie @rubyvhs @masked-lost-girl @suckitands33
@winchestergirl2 @a-lil-pr1ncess @winchester-whiskey @spnbabe67 @cheynovak
@megara0224 @yoongi-holland @illicithallways @perpetualabsurdity @deansimpala
@jessjad @impala-dreamer @k4marina @atenea585 @king-of-milf-lovers
@xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @daisychaingirl @star-yawnznn @number1whorehome
@g0ldfishd00dles @10ava01 @sixxteenbullets @tayl0rfanatic @everything-is-all-clear
323 notes
·
View notes
Text
Go to Sleep! — Sonic Movieverse
Summary: It’s movie night for the Wachowskis. But after Sonic helps himself to some sweets before bed which results in a sugar rush, it’s nearly impossible to get him to sleep. Fortunately, Tom and Maddie know exactly how to tire out a sugar rushed hedgehog.
Lee!Sonic 🦔💙
Lers!Tom & Maddie 🍩🥨
Word count: 3.8k
A/N: My first Sonic fic that I wrote four days ago while being bedridden from being sick 🤒 Takes place after the first movie. Also, I just wanted to quickly write some Sonic fluff to take my mind off things this month and cuz my Shadow plushie was delivered today. ^^ enjoy!
Tooth-rotting family fluff ahead! May be too sweet for reader consumption!
It was movie night in the Wachowski household, something Sonic had been looking forward to all week. Just him, Tom, Maddie, and Ozzy for the whole evening binging movies and feasting on junk food. And tonight, it was Sonic’s turn to pick the movie.
The little blue hedgehog quickly skimmed through the channels before sorting through the movies catergory of their streaming service, trying to decide what movie they should watch. But there were so many options. How was he supposed to pick just one?
Tom and Maddie had already settled down on the couch, popcorn bowl wedged between them. Even their golden retriever, Ozzy, had taken a seat on the couch.
“Sonic, c’mon,” he heard Tom say. “Just pick a movie already. The longer you decide, the less time we’ll have for our movie night.”
“I’m trying!” retorted Sonic. “There’s just so many good options, it’s hard to pick one!”
Tom rolled his eyes fondly, muttering “oh, this kid” under his breath. Maddie overheard, and couldn’t help but giggle.
“Ooh! I think I finally got it!” Sonic exclaimed as the loading icon appeared on the TV screen. He zipped back to the couch, squeezing in between the couple and making himself comfy.
“So what movie did you pick?” asked Tom.
Sonic beamed. “The SpongeBob SquarePants Movie!”
Tom and Maddie exchanged glances before simultaneously uttering, “Ohhh no.”
When the scene came where SpongeBob and Patrick were scarfing down triple goober berry sundaes, Sonic’s eyes widened at the sight of the cartoon depicted ice cream sundaes. “Whoaaaa! I wanna make that! Can we make that after the movie? Can we? Can we?!”
“Slow down, buddy,” Tom chuckled. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to eat a heaping ton of ice cream right before bed. You’ll be bouncing off the walls for hours.”
“Wait, can that really happen?” Sonic asked, immediately convinced. “Now I really wanna try it!”
Maddie quickly intervened. “Uh, Tom’s right, sweetie. We don’t want you to have a sugar rush keeping you up all night. We’ll have ice cream earlier tomorrow.”
“Awww…” Sonic’s ears dropped. Maddie ruffled his head apologetically to get him to smile again.
As their attention pivoted back to the movie, Sonic got a brilliant idea. An hour later after the movie concluded—and Sonic quit scream-singing the lyrics to “Goofy Goober Rock”—it was time to put his idea into action.
“All right, everybody, time for bed.” Maddie ushered them all off the couch before calling Ozzy to take him outside. Tom picked up the empty popcorn bowl and switched the TV off. He caught a certain little blue hedgehog trying to quietly slip into the kitchen.
“Sonic.” Said hedgehog froze in his tracks. “You heard Maddie. Upstairs to bed.”
Sonic shyly twiddled his fingers. “I-I know, I just…wanted to get a quick glass of milk before I go. Y’know, wash out all that popcorn I ate.”
“Well…okay. But make it quick.”
“Okay!” The little hedgehog internally squealed at how excellent his plan worked. “Perfect,” he whispered to himself. “Now to finally make that triple goober berry sundae. Let’s see…what do I need? Ooh, I know!”
Sonic managed to snag everything he needed to make the sundae in under two seconds. He silently thanked Tom and Maddie for having all the ingredients in the kitchen. Then, he quickly constructed his sundae based on memory in another second. When that was done, he stepped back and looked at the finished product. “Whoo! Not bad for a first timer!”
He had successfully made a screen accurate triple goober berry sunrise: three large scoops of vanilla ice cream dripping with chocolate syrup, an M&M smile, and banana limbs with cherries on the ends.
Sonic felt like he could tear up at the sight. But no, no time for that. He had to eat this fast. While also trying to savor every bite at the same time.
As soon as Maddie came back inside with Ozzy, she asked, “Did Sonic head off to bed already?”
“Not yet,” Tom answered, now changed into his pajamas. He gestured to the kitchen. “Said he wanted to get some milk before he went to bed.”
The sound of a spoon cluttering and scraping got their attention.
“That…doesn’t sound like he’s just getting milk,” Maddie said uneasily. Tom slowly shook his head, parental instincts kicking in. The couple slowly peered inside the kitchen, and their jaws dropped at the sight: Sonic sitting on the counter, his face coated with ice cream and chocolate syrup, as he attempted to lick the bottom of his bowl clean.
“Sonic?!” exclaimed the couple simultaneously.
Said hedgehog jerked his head up at the sound of his name, smiling sheepishly as he was caught. “O-Oh…heyyy guuuuys…”
“Sonic…” Tom began slowly. “What are you eating?”
“Uhhh…triple goober berry sunrise?” Sonic shrunk under the parental glares. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t help it! It just looked soooo good in the movie, I thought…maybe I could make one before bed?”
“After we explicitly told you no?” Maddie asked in her stern mom voice.
Sonic lowered his ears before flashing an apologetic smile. “I promise to clean up?” He zipped around the kitchen in a streak of blue light as he tidied up. “There, see? Like it never happened!”
Maddie tapped the corner of her mouth. “Except you missed a spot here.”
“Oh!” Sonic licked his lips. “Got it!” He suddenly squeaked in surprise as he was lifted off the ground.
“All right, you’re going straight to bed,” he heard Tom say. Sonic whined and tried to squirm out of the awkward hug lift. “Don’t give me that. We warned you about having ice cream before bed even though we promised you we’d have some tomorrow.”
“But I couldn’t wait! And anyway, what’s the big hap? I cleaned up, didn’t I?”
“That’s not the point. And tomorrow, we’re going to have a talk about this.”
“Awww you’re no fun, Donut Lord!” Sonic whined. He managed to squirm free and raced up the ladder stairs to his attic bedroom.
“Aw geez…” Tom sighed as he facepalmed.
“At this rate, he’s not going to get any sleep,” said Maddie.
“Unless we duct tape him down to his bed.”
“Tom!”
“I’m kidding! But that’s still an option we can use as a last resort.”
“How about this,” Maddie suggested. “Instead of…that, we’ll gently tire him out; give him soothing pets and rubs, tuck him in snugly, read him a story. That should put him to sleep quickly.”
“Hm. Okay, that works.”
It did not work. Sonic was far too hyper to settle down no matter what they tried. Not even soft scratches to his ears or under his chin pacified his sugar rush. And that always was a good remedy whenever the blue hedgehog was restless.
Tom and Maddie sat helplessly on the edge of Sonic’s race car bed, while he continued to do laps around his room and babbling gibberish. He was bouncing off the walls. Literally; curled up as a blue hedgy ball and bouncing from wall to wall, as if he were a ping pong ball.
Tom turned his attention to his wife. “Well, if we’re both in agreement with restraining the hyper hedgehog to his bed, I’ll go get the duct tape from the garage.”
“We are not duct taping him to his bed.”
“What about those calming gummies you give to Ozzy during the Fourth of July? That should do it, right?”
“Tom! I’m not giving canine calming gummies to a hedgehog!”
“NyQuil? If it’s safe for human consumption, it should be safe for him.”
“Tom, no!”
With no other options, Maddie suddenly perked up with an idea. “Hang on. I think I’ve got something. Something my sister and I used to do with Jojo when she was younger, and in a similar predicament.”
Her husband looked relieved. “Really? What is it?” She motioned for him to come closer to whisper so Sonic wouldn’t overhear. His lips slowly curled into a big grin.
As the hyper hedgehog continued to zoom across the walls, he was oblivious to the fact that his parental figures were plotting something against him. It wasn’t until he heard them call out his name that he skidded to a stop, while still bouncing in place.
“All right, Blue Devil, can you settle down now?” asked Tom.
“I can’t! I’m too hyper!” Sonic declared, still bouncing on his toes.
“Well, will you at least lay down in bed?” Maddie coaxed, patting the bed.
Sonic thought about it for a second, before getting a running start and leaping onto his bed. He landed face first with an “oomph!” before bursting out into giggles.
It was hard for the couple to stay mad at him because sometimes Sonic would be too cute for his own good. His sweet giggles and smile almost made them forget why they were displeased in the first place.
“Alright, we’re not going to tell you again, Sonic,” Maddie tried to sound stern, but the grin on her lips proved otherwise. “You better go to sleep right this instant.”
“I can’t! I’m too hyper!” Sonic repeated through breathy giggles. He giddily kicked his legs, already making a mess of bedsheets and blankets.
“Last chance, turbo toes,” Tom playfully warned. “Go to sleep now or else you’re gonna get it.”
Something in Tom’s voice sparked a fluttery feeling in Sonic’s tummy. Anticipation; and anticipating some sort of playful consequence if he didn’t abide. But there was also a streak of provocative cheekiness. He dared to defy.
“Heh, make me, Donut Lord!” Sonic challenged, sticking his tongue out.
Tom and Maddie exchanged devious grins. Oh, this kid was so asking for it!
Sonic emitted a surprised squeak as his wrists were suddenly grabbed and pinned above his head. The culprit? Tom and Maddie each took a wrist as they sat on either side of him. “Aaah! Hey, what gives? Aw, you two are no fun!”
Tom smirked like a villain. “We warned you, Sonic.” Then he glanced at his wife. “So, Maddie, looks like we’ve got a sugar-rushed hedgehog. As Green Hill’s most elite and respected veterinarian, what do you propose we do?”
Maddie hummed, pretending to think. “Well, normally it wears off on its own. But it looks like we have a severe case here. And there’s only one way to cure a severe sugar rush…”
Sonic didn’t like the way they were speaking to each other. Something in their voices seemed suspicious, like they knew something he didn’t. What were they planning on doing? And why did their cryptic conversation make even more anticipatory butterflies fill his belly? What witchcraft were they doing to him?
His questions were answered when he heard the couple say, “A visit from the Tickle Monster!”
Sonic suddenly burst out into squeaky giggles as two hands gently fluttered against his ears and neck. His ears twitched with every soft tweak, and he attempted to scrunch his shoulders. “Guhuhuys, nohohoho! This ihihis so nohot fahahahair!”
“Again, we warned you,” Tom smirked. He moved his hand down to tase Sonic’s side, resulting in a high-pitched squeak.
“OkAHAhay! Okahahay! I’ve learned my lesson!” the giggly hedgehog squeaked out. Tom and Maddie paused for a moment.
“Hm, should we believe him?” asked Maddie.
“Mmm…nah.”
“What?!” Sonic exclaimed. “But—But, I mean it! I learned my lesson! I-I’ll never ever eat ice cream before bed again! Swear!”
“Hmm, then why don’t we believe you?” Maddie playfully asked, hovering her wiggling fingers near the hedgehog’s side.
Sonic gasped and tried arching away from her hand as far as he could. “B-Because…Because you guys are jerks, that’s why!”
Maddie pretended to be offended. “Excuuuse me?! Calling us jerks now, huh?”
Normally, Sonic would be terrified of Maddie’s reaction to his choice of words. But he was feeling too playful and cheeky at the moment. And he knew nothing serious was going to happen to him. He just enjoyed seeing the look of their faces as he got quippy with them.
“Y-Yeah! You’re not only jerks, but you’re also fun sponges!” Sonic dared to say. “You suck the fun out of everything!” Then, just to be even cheekier, he dared to stick his tongue out at them again. “Mmmh!”
“Ohh that does it! Tom, hand him over.” Maddie cradled the little blue hedgehog in her lap, who was now giggling and eyeing her with wide anticipating eyes. Awwh, he must really want this.
She wasted no time and rapidly wiggled her fingers against his sides. Immediately, Sonic arched his back with a squeal before erupting into more high-pitched giggles.
“EEEEEAAAHeeheeheehee!! Mahahahaddie! Mahahaddie, nohohohoho!”
“Who is this…Maddie you speak of? I’m the Tickle Monster! And you’re mine, you sassy little hedgehog!” She empathized by tasing Sonic’s sides, making him arch with another squeal.
“AAAAAHH! Whahahahat?! No you’re nohohohot!”
“Oh yes I am! And you’re not going anywhere!” She gently pulled him back into her lap as she noticed Sonic was trying to roll out of her lap.
He yelped and made a dramatic show of reaching out for Tom. “Donut Lord! H-Hehehelp! Sahahave meheeheehee!”
“Oh, I’ll save you, all right. Hand him over, Maddie.” Sonic was passed over, and thought he was safe. But that split second of relief was only short lived as Tom suddenly dug rapid fingers against his ribs and under his arm at the same time.
“AAAAAEEEEHEEHEAAAA!! NAAAHAHAhahaha!! Nohohohot cool, Donut Lohohohord!”
“Who are you calling Donut Lord?”
“AAAHAhahahaha! Y-Youhoohoohoo, Tohohom!”
“I’m not Tom, I’m also the Tickle Monster!”
“HaHAAAhaha! Nohohohoho! NAHAhahat you too!” Sonic giggled madly, rapidly shaking his head. “And quiHIHit sahahaying that! I’m too old for thahahahat!”
“Too old for the Tickle Monster? I beg to differ!” Tom switched tactics; yanking one arm up and scribbling his free hand into the exposed little underarm.
Sonic emitted a girly squeal, and shrieked with laughter. “EEEEEEEEEHEEHEEHEAAAAAAHAHAHA!! NAHAHAHAHAHO! I-I AHAHAHAHAM!! I’M TOO OHOHOLD FOR THE T—HAHAHA! THE TI—MMPHHEEEEHEEHEEHEE!!” Sonic was too flustered to even say the words. And unfortunately for him, that didn’t go unnoticed.
“Aww having a little trouble saying the words ‘Tickle Monster’, sweetie?” Maddie couldn’t help but coo.
“N-NOHOHOHO!” Sonic squeakily protested. No way in Green Hills he was going to admit that he couldn’t say the t-word. Or that just hearing the word flustered him to no end.
“Is it because you can’t actually say the word ‘tickle?’”
Uh-oh. Now they were on to him.
Sonic blushed, panting as Tom halted his attack. “N…No..? Of course I can say it! I have absolutely no problem saying—that word.”
“Ohhh, so sassy, hyper from a sugar rush, and can’t say the word ‘tickle?’” Tom pointed out. “Good to know!”
Sonic rolled his eyes and giggled. “You’re soho meheeheehean, you fun sponge!”
“Oho, still gonna call me names?”
“That’s right!” The blue hedgehog sat up, quickly recovering from the tickly onslaught mere moments ago. “You guys are not only mean, but you’re fun sponges, wazbags, and also hobknockers!” He crossed his arms with a huff before bursting out into giggles as he saw the couple’s mouths agape. “Oh my—hahaha! You…You should see your faces right now! Ahahaha!”
The couple exchanged glances again before Maddie nodded at her husband, silently giving him the green light. Tom gave a single nod back. Time to bring out the big guns.
He made a grab for the little hedgehog, securely cradling him. “All right, you little sass master. Since you clearly still have a lot of energy left to keep sassing Maddie and I, that means you can still take a lot more tickles. Lucky for you, I know just how to teach sassy little hedgehogs like you a lesson for being so snarky. Time to bring out the old Wachowski family special!”
Sonic tilted his head like a confused puppy. What the heck was that supposed to mean? He let out a soft squeak as he was lifted up closer to Tom’s face. “What are you up to, Donut L—AAAEEEEEEEEHEEHEEHEEEEEEEK!!” He didn’t have time to finish his question as Tom leaned down to press his face against Sonic’s belly, and playfully nip the soft surface. “NAAAAAHAHAHA!! NAAHEEEEHEEHAHAHA!! N-NOHOHO, WHAHAHAT ARE YOU DOIHIHIHIHING?!!”
“This Tickle Monster grows tired of your sassy comments, and has simply decided to eat you instead!” Tom spoke against the twitching tummy, chuckling as he heard Sonic shriek like a girl again.
“EEEEEEEEEHEEHEEHEAAAAAAHAHAHAHA!! NAAAAAHAHAHAHAO!! DOHOHON’T PLEAHEEHEEHEEHEASE!! THAHAHAHAT FEELS WOHOHOHORSE!!”
Sonic was squirming like a leech on a salt covered sidewalk. The nibbles to his belly were unbearably tickly. Tingly currents were zipping up and down his spine, and he could feel them all the way down to the tips of his toes.
He frantically batted at Tom’s head, silently begging his father figure to have some mercy on him. Fortunately, Tom did get the message. “So, are you ready to apologize for your sass and head off to sleep? Or do we need to keep teaching you a lesson?” The couple hovered their wiggling fingers over the small hedgehog, making him squeal and curl for protection.
“Aaaah! No, no! Wahahahait! Lemme thihihink about ihihihit!”
After Sonic caught his breath, he tapped his chin and hummed in deep thought. “Hmm….I think you guys need a second opinion before calling yourselves professional Tickle Monsters! No way that’s true! I mean, look at me; I’m still hyper, and full of energy, so HA! Your sneak attacks did absolutely no—AAAAAHEHEEHEEHAHAHAHA!!”
“That’s enough sass out of you, mister,” Tom interrupted. He had scooped up the hedgehog, not wasting another second and mercilessly scribbled under his arms.
Sonic screeched and slammed his arms down to his sides, merely trapping the still wriggling fingers there. He jolted with a louder screech when he felt nails scribbling and digging into his belly. “W-WAIT, WAHAHAHAIT!! NAHAHAHAT THERE!! NOT THERE!!”
“Where? Here?” Maddie innocently asked, vibrating a clawed hand against the center of Sonic’s tummy.
Sonic squealed another octave. He frantically shook his head, kicking his legs at 300 miles per hour. “AAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAA!! NAHAHAHAHAHAAAAHAO!! NAHAHAHAT THEHEHEHERE!!”
Tom chuckled. “Y’know you keep saying ‘not there’, but I’m not hearing you apologize.”
Sonic may have been laughing his quills off, but he was a stubborn hedgehog. “N-NO WAHAHAHAHAY!! I’LL NEHEHEHEHEVER AP—HAHAHAHA—APOLOGIZE!!”
“Suit yourself, buddy.” Tom and Maddie paused their attacks one last time before switching spots. Maddie grabbed and held Sonic’s wrists above his head while Tom made a grab for his legs. “Just so you don’t try and kick me in the face while I do this,” he told Sonic after he shakily asked what were they going to do to him now.
“Oh, just a secret family combat tactic that’s lethal enough to paralyze a victim within seconds,” Tom stated like a villain as he wrapped an arm around the fidgeting hedgehog’s legs.
Sonic gulped. “P-Paralyze..?”
The couple had to fight the urge not to break character. Sonic just looked too cute! He actually looked like a scared puppy, wondering what they were about to do. They wanted to tell him right there that he had nothing to worry about, and explain what they were going to do, but…it was better to show rather than tell.
The fluttery anticipating tingling intensified as Sonic felt Tom slide his arm behind his back, arching his stomach. He had a bad feeling about this. “W-Wait, what are you..?”
Tom took a deep breath, dove down, pressed his lips against the center of Sonic’s belly, and blew hard.
Sonic threw his head back and screamed. “AAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHEEEEEEAAAAA!! NAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAO!! WHAHAHAT IHIHIHIS THAHAHAHAT?!!”
“They’re called ‘raspberries’, Sonic,” explained Maddie with a giggle.
Tom lifted his head. “But like I said, they’re a very lethal weapon that can cripple a victim! Like, for instance, sassy-mouthed hedgehogs who refuse to go to bed!” He leaned down to pepper more ticklish raspberries all over Sonic’s tummy.
And Sonic? He couldn’t stop squealing and screeching hysterics. This was way worse than the nibbles from earlier! “AAAAAAAAHEEHEEHEEHEEHAHAHAAAAAA!! NO!! NO—AAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAAAAA!! THIHIHIS IS SOHOHO MUCH WOHOHOHOHORSE!! AAAAAAAAHHH!!”
“Good! Maybe this’ll teach you not to be sassy to your parents!” Tom spoke against the soft tummy again.
“B-BUHUT I WAHASN’T EHEEHEEHEEHEVEN BEING SASSY!! AAAAAAAHHH!! NAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAO!!” Sonic’s protests were interrupted as another fat raspberry was blown to the center of his belly. “O-OKAHAHAY!! OKAY!! I’M SAHAHAHAHARRY!! I’LL GO TO BEHEHEHED NOW!!” He meant it; he could feel his quills starting to spark and he was starting to lose it. Plus, he didn’t want to accidentally cause a power outage if his quills continued to spark.
“You promise?” he heard Tom and Maddie ask.
He nodded frantically. “YES, YEHEHEHEHES!! PROMIHIHIHISE!!”
The couple finally ceased and released him. Sonic lay limply on his bed, panting while trying to rub away the aftershock tingles from his stomach. “That…you…you guys…are so mean..!” Tom and Maddie laughed, affectionately rubbing his ears and head.
“Well, now you know what happens when you refuse to go to bed,” shrugged Tom.
“And when you get sassy with your words,” Maddie added, booping Sonic on the nose.
Sonic sheepishly smiled. “Okay, I guess I did walk into that one. Sorry for sassing, I think it was the sugar rush.”
Maddie gave him more pets to the head. “Now do you see why we don’t want you to have sweets before bed? It’s for your own good. So you can avoid dealing with the Tickle Monsters as a result.” She playfully tased his side one last time for emphasis.
Sonic arched away with a cute squeak. “EEEP! Okay, okay! I get it! No more! Just…please stop calling yourselves that.” With one final pet to the head, Sonic yawned as his ears drooped.
“Ready for bed?”
He sleepily nodded. “Mm-hmmm…”
Maddie carefully slipped off his sneakers while Tom snugly tucked him in. Sonic was out like a light after that. Smiling, the couple each took a turn giving Sonic a good night kiss to his forehead. Their hearts swooned as they saw the little hedgehog smile in his sleep at the affectionate gesture.
“See? What did I tell you?” Maddie whispered to her husband. “A visit from the Tickle Monster works every time.”
THE END <3
#mushy writes stuff#tickle fic#sonic tickles#sonic tickle#lee!sonic#ticklish!sonic#sonic fluff#sfw tickle fic#my fic#sfw tickling community#sfw twords#tickle fluff
89 notes
·
View notes
Note
The angst of “Why are you only proposing to me because I’m pregnant” and JJ is trying his best to prove to you it’s not cause you’re pregnant
“JJ, get up,” you murmured, looking down at where he knelt on one knee with tears in your eyes. He’d expected tears, but he’d also expected at least a smile.
“What?” He stood up, trying to reach out to you but you shook your head and curled in on yourself.
He couldn’t understand what he’d done wrong. You’d been together years, it wasn’t like you’d been arguing, you were going to have a baby. All he wanted was to spend the rest of his life with you, and here you are declining his proposal.
“Babe, I don’t understand. Do you not want to marry me?” He asked, hurt evident in his tone.
You let out a huff, wiping your eyes. “Of course I want to marry you, JJ.”
“Then what’s the problem? You don’t like the ring?” He felt himself relax slightly now that he knew you at least weren’t completely blowing him off, that would’ve been a nice story for the kids.
“I love the ring,” you croaked out, face scrunching up as you tried not to burst into tears. “You don’t want to marry me.”
“Uh… baby, the amount I spent on this thing says otherwise,” he laughed, taking a step towards you. You didn’t look amused. His eyebrows furrowed, he finally managed to catch you in his hold as he forced you to look up at him. “Why do you think I don’t want to marry you?”
“You’re only proposing because I’m pregnant,” you sniffled, lip quivering.
He shook his head instantly, arms tightening around your waist. “That is bullshit. I love you, and yeah maybe the fact you’re havin’ my damn baby pushed me along but I’ve wanted to marry you since we were kids. I love you, with or without a baby I’d want to spend the rest of my life with you. Was already plannin’ on doing that.”
“You promise?” You asked nervously.
JJ leant in and kissed you softly, his hands cradling your face like you were made by an angel. “I promise.”
“Okay,” you whispered. “Get back down.”
He chuckled, nodding. “Yes ma’am.” He got back down on one knee, asking you to marry him once again. This time, you didn’t tell him to get back up; you threw yourself down with him. “Alright, alright,” he laughed as you attacked his face with kisses.
“Put it on,” you murmured, holding your hand out to him.
With shaky hands, he slid the ring on your finger and left a kiss over the top of it. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
He’d tell you another day that he’s had that ring in his draw for years, ready to ask once he knew that you’d have him.
102 notes
·
View notes
Text
“All the weight I’ll ever carry”
Ekko x Chubby!Reader
WARNINGS:None
WC:883
NOTE: Erm this is kinda abt me bc I’m chubby and I just wanted to feel good abt myself🙏 ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIP
“Alright, hear me out,” Ekko began, his voice carrying that playful lilt that always spelled trouble. He stood in front of you, hands on his hips, sweat glistening from his earlier workout. The makeshift gym around you wasn’t much—a couple of weights, an old mat, and the creaking remnants of a bench press—but Ekko’s grin was enough to make the dim place feel like home.
You narrowed your eyes at him, already suspicious. “I don’t like where this is going.”
He chuckled, walking closer to where you sat on a pile of blankets and cushions that had somehow turned into your spot in the Firelights’ hideout. “C’mon, give me some credit. It’s not that bad.”
“Spit it out, hun.”
He rubbed the back of his neck, hesitating for just a second before meeting your eyes. “I wanna see if I can do push-ups… with you on my back.”
You blinked. Then blinked again.
“Ekko,” you said slowly, trying to figure out if you’d misheard him. “You want me to sit on your back while you do push-ups?”
“Yeah.” He shrugged like it was the most normal request in the world. “I’ve been working on my strength, and you’re, y’know… the perfect test.”
You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms. “Perfect test?”
He winced, quickly waving his hands in defense. “No, no, I didn’t mean it like that! You’re just—you’re strong! I mean, not, like, heavy—just, like—ugh.” He groaned, running a hand down his face. “I’m digging a hole here, aren’t I?”
“Yeah,” you said, biting back a smile.
“Let me start over,” he said, his tone softer now. “I just… thought it’d be fun. And, I don’t know, it’s like I’d be carrying you. Feels kinda symbolic, doesn’t it?”
That caught you off guard. His words weren’t as slick as he probably thought they were, but something about the honesty in his tone made your chest tighten.
“Symbolic, huh?” you murmured, standing up. “Alright, hun. Let’s see if you can handle it.”
His eyes lit up like a kid at a candy shop. “Really?”
“Really. But if you drop me, I’m never letting you live it down.”
“Deal,” he said, already lying down on the mat and bracing his hands against the floor.
You hesitated for a moment as you walked over, suddenly hyper-aware of yourself. “You sure about this?” you asked, your voice quieter now. “I’m not exactly…light”
He turned his head to look up at you, his gaze softening in a way that made your cheeks heat. “Hey,” he said gently. “I’m sure. You’re perfect, okay? Trust me.”
Something about the way he said it made your heart skip, and you nodded, carefully lowering yourself to sit on his back. He shifted slightly, adjusting to your weight, and you bit your lip.
“You alright?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.
“Better than alright,” he replied, glancing back at you with a grin. “You ready?”
“Me? You’re the one doing all the work.”
He laughed, the sound rumbling through his body beneath you, and then he started.
The first push-up was smooth, his arms steady as he lifted you both off the ground. You couldn’t help but let out a surprised laugh.
“Okay, not bad,” you said, leaning forward a little.
“Told you,” he replied, his voice slightly strained but full of determination.
He kept going, each movement strong and deliberate. You could feel the effort in his muscles, the way his body tensed and released beneath you, but he didn’t falter. Not once.
“You’re really doing it,” you said softly, more to yourself than to him.
“Told you I’d carry you,” he murmured, his voice quieter now, but there was no teasing in it—just a quiet kind of sincerity that made your heart ache in the best way.
By the time he hit twenty push-ups, his breath was heavier, his movements slower, but he didn’t stop until he’d done five more. Finally, with one last push, he let himself collapse gently to the mat, careful not to jostle you.
“Alright,” he panted, turning his head to look up at you. “That’s all I’ve got.”
You slid off his back, sitting beside him on the mat. “You didn’t have to do that, you know,” you said softly, brushing a curl of his white hair out of his face.
He looked at you, his chest still rising and falling with each breath. “Yeah, I did,” he said, his voice quiet but steady. “You carry me all the time, y’know? With everything you do. This… this was nothing compared to that.”
Your heart swelled, and you couldn’t stop the smile that spread across your face. “Ekko…”
He grinned, reaching out to take your hand. “What? I’m just saying the truth.”
You shook your head, but you didn’t pull away. Instead, you squeezed his hand, letting your fingers tangle with his.
“Alright, Firefly,” you said, your voice warm. “But next time, you’re letting me carry you somehow.”
He laughed, bright and full of life, and for a moment, it felt like the whole world was just the two of you. “Deal,” he said, his smile softening as he looked at you. “But for now… just stay here a little longer, yeah?”
“Yeah,” you whispered, leaning into his side. “I can do that.”
And for a while, you stayed like that—his hand in yours, his heart still racing beneath your touch, and the weight of the world feeling just a little lighter.
YALL THIS STORY IS BC IM FEELING NOT THE BEST ABT MY WEIGHT RN😞
ANYWAYS
I want food (That’s kinda ironic)
#arcane x reader#arcane x y/n#arcane x you#x reader#x y/n#x you#firelight ekko#jinx x ekko#ekko x you#ekko arcane#ekko x reader#ekko lol#ekko league of legends#ekko
64 notes
·
View notes
Text
୨୧┇made more early palace stuff
୨୧┇warnings: reader gets her first period.
────୨ৎ──── ────୨ৎ──── ───
Antinous leaned back in his chair, a mischievous glint in his eye as he whispered to Y/N. “Alright, kid. Here’s the plan. You take this bucket—” he held up a small bucket filled with water, balanced precariously on the edge of a slightly open door, “—and when Telemachus walks in, boom. Instant shower.”
She giggled, covering her mouth to stifle the sound. “He’s going to be so mad!”
“That’s the idea,” Antinous replied with a smirk, ruffling her hair. “But remember, you have to act innocent afterward. Real wide eyes, maybe even throw in some fake tears if he gets too angry. You know, your specialty.”
She stuck out her tongue playfully but nodded, determined. “Got it.”
The two hid behind a pillar, peeking out as Telemachus approached the door. He was muttering to himself, likely about some book or strategy, completely unaware of the trap set for him. As soon as he pushed the door open, the bucket tipped, dumping the cold water directly onto his head. Telemachus froze, his hair plastered to his face, water dripping down his tunic.
She clamped a hand over her mouth to keep from laughing too loudly, while Antinous bit down on his knuckle, his shoulders shaking with silent amusement. “What in the name of the gods—” Telemachus sputtered, wiping water from his eyes.
She finally stepped out, her best innocent expression plastered on her face. “Oh no, Telemachus! Are you okay?” she asked, her voice dripping with fake concern.
Telemachus glared at her, then at the still-dripping bucket on the floor. “Y/N,” he said slowly, “was this your doing?”
She shook her head furiously, her eyes wide. “Me? No way! I would never do something like that!”
Antinous, still hiding, nearly lost it when he saw Telemachus narrow his eyes at her, clearly not buying it but unable to prove anything. “You’re lucky I can’t prove it,” Telemachus muttered, stepping over the bucket with as much dignity as he could muster. As soon as he was out of earshot, Antinous and his sister burst into laughter, clutching their sides.
“That was perfect!” Antinous said, wiping a tear from his eye. “I knew you had it in you.”
She grinned, her chest puffed out with pride. “Can we do it again?”
Antinous chuckled. “Let’s give it a day or two. Gotta keep him on his toes.”
——
The palace halls were dark and silent, save for the occasional flash of lightning illuminating the walls and the low rumble of thunder that followed. Y/N clutched her doll tightly to her chest, her small frame trembling with every loud crash. She had tried to stay in her own bed, but the storm was too much. She needed Antinous. She padded softly to his room, her bare feet cold against the stone floor. Reaching his door, she hesitated for only a moment before knocking gently. “Antinous?” she called out in a small voice. No answer.
She frowned and tried again. “Antinous, are you there?” Still nothing. Carefully, she pushed the door open and peeked inside, only to find the room empty. The bed was messily made, and his belongings were untouched. A pang of panic bubbled in her chest. Where could he be? Another deafening clap of thunder made her jump, and she whimpered softly. Left with no other choice, she turned and headed down the hall toward Eurymachus’s room.
Standing outside his door, she hesitated. Eurymachus wasn’t exactly… comforting, but she didn’t want to be alone. Summoning her courage, she knocked lightly. The door creaked open after a moment, and a very sleepy, disheveled Eurymachus appeared, his hair sticking up in all directions. He squinted at her. “Y/N? What in Hades are you doing here? It’s the middle of the night.”
“There’s a storm,” she said, her voice trembling. She hugged her doll tighter. “Antinous isn’t in his room. I—I don’t want to be alone.”
Eurymachus blinked, clearly caught off guard. He scratched the back of his head and sighed. “Alright, alright, come in,” he mumbled, stepping aside to let her in. She shuffled into the room and climbed onto the edge of his bed, curling up with her doll. Eurymachus shut the door and rubbed his face, muttering something about how he wasn’t equipped to deal with scared kids. He sat on the bed beside her, awkwardly patting her back.
“There, there,” he said, clearly unsure of what else to do. “It’s just some loud noises. Nothing to be afraid of.”
“But it’s so loud,” she whispered, her voice shaking.
Eurymachus sighed, lying back on the bed and resting his hands behind his head. “I hate this…whatever, you can stay here. But don’t hog the blanket.” She nodded, her fear easing slightly as she laid down beside him. She still flinched at the thunder, but somehow, knowing she wasn’t alone made it a little less scary.
As she drifted off to sleep, Eurymachus stared at the ceiling, muttering to himself. “Antinous owes me for this,” he said quietly, shaking his head.
——
Y/N woke up in Eurymachus’s bed, her face pale and her breathing shallow. She didn’t understand what was happening—there was blood on the sheets, and panic settled in her chest. Eurymachus, still half asleep, groaned and turned over, completely unaware of the situation. She tugged on his sleeve, her voice trembling. “Eury… something’s wrong with me. I’m… I’m bleeding.”
Eurymachus cracked one eye open and looked at her, his brows knitting together. He sat up, yawning. “Bleeding? What do you mean—” His eyes fell on the stained sheets, and he froze. Before Eurymachus could even process what was happening, the door slammed open, and Antinous stormed in, looking ready to drag Y/N back to her room.
“Why is she in your bed?” Antinous demanded, his voice sharp. But then his gaze landed on the blood, and his expression twisted into something far darker. “What the Hades is this?”
Eurymachus immediately raised his hands in defense. “Wait, wait, wait! This is not what it looks like!”
“She’s bleeding!” Antinous bellowed, stepping forward and grabbing Eurymachus by the collar. “What did you do to her?”
Y/N, still overwhelmed and not understanding why her body was betraying her, burst into tears. “Antinous, stop! He didn’t do anything!” Antinous froze, glancing down at Pandora as she sobbed. Eurymachus took the opportunity to slip from his grasp and put some distance between them.
“Calm down!” Eurymachus hissed, brushing himself off. “Your sister just got her first period. That’s all!”
“A what?” Antinous blinked, completely thrown.
“Her period, you idiot!” Eurymachus shouted, exasperated. “You know, that thing girls deal with every month? She’s not dying, and I didn’t do anything to her!”
Antinous stood there for a moment, processing this new and horrifying information. He looked down at Y/N, who was sniffling and wiping her tears. His anger deflated, replaced by a mixture of awkwardness and concern.
“…Oh.” He rubbed the back of his neck, his cheeks reddening slightly. “I didn’t… I didn’t know.”
Eurymachus crossed his arms and smirked. “Yeah, no kidding. Now that we’ve cleared that up, maybe you can stop trying to kill me every time something happens.”
Antinous ignored him and crouched down to her level, his tone softening. “Y/N, why didn’t you come to me?”
“You weren’t in your room,” she mumbled, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment.
Antinous sighed and gently patted her head. “It’s okay. Come on, let’s get you cleaned up. Eurymachus clearly isn’t equipped to handle this.”
Eurymachus scoffed. “Like you are?”
Antinous shot him a glare before carefully guiding his sister out of the room. As they left, she glanced back and stuck her tongue out at Eurymachus, who just rolled his eyes.
“Next time, don’t wake me up for this,” he muttered to himself, flopping back into bed.
——
Y/N, having been left to her own devices after both Antinous and Eurymachus wandered off to attend to their own matters, decided to explore. With no one keeping an eye on her, she wandered into the main hall where the suitors were lounging around, drinking, and loudly boasting about their supposed feats of strength and charm. As soon as she entered, her wide eyes scanned the chaotic scene. She wasn’t nervous—if anything, she was curious about what the suitors were always up to when Antinous wasn’t around to glare them into submission.
One of the suitors, a burly man named Melanthius, noticed her first. “Well, look who it is! The little sister of our great leader.”
“Antinous left you all alone, huh?” another suitor chimed in, his tone teasing.
She placed her hands on her hips and puffed out her chest. “I can take care of myself! I’m not scared of you lot!” The suitors erupted in laughter at her boldness. “Not scared, huh? Alright, little one, let’s see what you’re made of!”
Before she knew it, one of them had lifted her off the ground and spun her around, eliciting a surprised squeal from her. Another suitor playfully ruffled her hair, while yet another poked at her sides to make her squirm.
“Hey! Put me down!” She protested, but her giggles betrayed her.
The suitors, amused by her small stature and feisty attitude, continued to roughhouse with her—lifting her onto their shoulders, tossing her lightly between them, and making silly faces to get her to laugh. They weren’t being mean, but they were definitely a bit too rowdy for someone as small as Y/N. One of them handed her a goblet of wine. “Here, kid, have a sip. It’ll make you braver!”
She sniffed it suspiciously and made a face. “That smells gross!”
“Atta girl,” another suitor said, laughing as he took the goblet back. Just as the playful chaos reached its peak, the doors to the hall burst open, and in strode Antinous and Eurymachus.
Antinous took one look at the scene—his sister perched precariously on Melanthius’s shoulders, her hair a mess, and the suitors all grinning like mischievous children—and his face darkened like a storm cloud.
“What,” he bellowed, his voice echoing through the hall, “is going on here…?”
The suitors immediately froze, Melanthius nearly dropping Y/N in his panic. Eurymachus, standing beside Antinous, stifled a laugh. “Looks like your little sister found herself some new babysitters.”
Antinous stormed over, snatching her off Melanthius’s shoulders and setting her on the ground. “Y/N, what are you doing here?!”
“I was bored!” she huffed, crossing her arms. “You and Eury left me alone, so I came here!”
Antinous glared at the suitors, who were all trying to look innocent. “If I see any of you roughhousing with her again, I’ll personally throw you out of this palace!”
The suitors nodded quickly, murmuring apologies. Eurymachus, still amused, leaned against a pillar and smirked. “You know, she seemed to be having a great time until you showed up.”
Antinous shot him a warning look before turning to her. He crouched down to her level, his tone softening. “You can’t just wander off like that, Y/N. These idiots don’t know how to handle a kid.”
She pouted but nodded. “Okay… I won’t do it again.”
“Good,” Antinous said, ruffling her hair. He stood up and shot one last glare at the suitors before scooping her up in his arms. “Let’s go. You’re staying where I can see you.”
As they left, Eurymachus lingered for a moment, shaking his head at the suitors. “You lot are lucky he didn’t kill you. Try not to traumatize the kid next time.” With that, he followed Antinous and Y/N out of the hall, leaving the suitors to exchange sheepish glances and mutter about how terrifying Antinous could be when it came to his sister.
——
Y/N squirmed furiously, her small hands tugging at the leather strap fastened securely around her waist. “Antinous! This is embarrassing! Let me go!”
Antinous, towering over her with an exasperated expression, held the other end of the leash firmly. “Not a chance, Y/N. You’re not running off into trouble again. I refuse to let you cause another headache.”
She stomped her foot, her face red with indignation. “I’m not a dog, Antinous!”
From the corner of the room, Eurymachus and Melanthius stood watching the scene unfold, both struggling—and failing—to contain their laughter. Eurymachus had one hand over his mouth, his shoulders shaking, while Melanthius clutched his stomach, his booming laugh echoing through the room. “You’ve outdone yourself this time, Antinous,” Eurymachus said, finally gasping for air. “A leash? On your own sister? Gods, this is priceless.”
Antinous shot him a glare, his patience wearing thin. “She ran off into the main hall last time and nearly got herself killed by you lot roughhousing with her. I’m not taking any chances.”
Melanthius wiped a tear from his eye. “You do realize she’s going to hate you for this, right? She’s practically plotting her revenge already.”
Y/N, still tugging at the leash, turned her big, pleading eyes to Melanthius. “Help me! This is cruel and unusual punishment!”
But Melanthius just laughed harder. “Sorry, kid. I’m not getting in the middle of this one. You’re on your own.”
Eurymachus smirked and crossed his arms. “Honestly, Antinous, why stop at the leash? You should get her one of those bells so you can hear her coming.”
She groaned in frustration, sitting down on the floor with a dramatic huff. “I hate you all!”
Antinous rolled his eyes, ignoring the jeers from his companions. He crouched down to her level, his voice softening. “This is for your own good, sister. I wouldn’t have to do this if you didn’t keep wandering off into trouble.”
She pouted, crossing her arms. “I wasn’t wandering off. I was exploring!”
“Exploring,” Antinous repeated, raising an eyebrow. “Right. You can explore the courtyard. On a leash.”
Eurymachus doubled over in laughter again, and Melanthius had to lean against a wall for support. “I can’t—this is too good!” Eurymachus wheezed.
Antinous stood, dragging her to her feet as she whined and tried to wriggle free. “Laugh all you want, you two,” he said, his tone sharp. “But if she gets into trouble again, I’m making you responsible.”
Eurymachus waved a hand dismissively, still grinning. “Fine. But don’t expect me to take her on a leash. That’s all you, big brother.”
She shot a glare at Antinous, her cheeks puffed out in frustration. “Just wait until I tell Penelope about this. She’ll side with me!” Antinous sighed, already regretting his decision, while Eurymachus and Melanthius burst into another fit of laughter. It was going to be a long day.
@xo-cuteplosion-xo @simpformoonkight @lover-lyn
#epic the musical#epic the musical x reader#aphrodites gamble#antinous#antinous x reader#epic antinous#eurymachus
72 notes
·
View notes
Text
Marked
_____________________________________________
where Liam's tattoo makes you feel things [18+]
_____________________________________________
Liam hadn’t even dropped his bag properly when you launched yourself into his arms, nearly knocking him over with the force of your excitement. “You’re home!” you exclaimed, your voice muffled against his neck as you hugged him tightly. His familiar scent wrapping around you quickly.
“Alright, love, don’t knock me over.” he chuckled, wrapping his arms around your waist and lifting you slightly off the ground. “Missed me, then?”
“Of course I did,” you replied, leaning back to look at him. His face, though tired from the tour, lit up with a grin that made your chest ache. “You’re never leaving me for that long again, by the way.”
“Is that so?” he teased, setting you down gently. “Guess I’ll have to bring you with me next time.”
“You better,” you said, swatting his arm playfully. “But right now, you’re staying here, and I’m not letting you out of me sight.”
Liam laughed, pulling you in for another kiss, soft and warm, and full of everything he couldn’t put into words. You barely noticed him steering you toward the sofa, but soon enough, you were sitting beside him, your legs draped over his lap.
“I’ve got summat to show you.” he said suddenly, his voice laced with excitement.
You raised an eyebrow, intrigued but wary. “What kind of something?”
“Just... hang on.” he said, starting to fiddle with the waistband of his jeans.
Your eyes widened. “Liam, what the hell are you doing?”
He grinned at your panic but didn’t stop, undoing the button and shimmying the denim down just enough to expose his upper thigh. There, nestled just above the curve of his knee, was your name inked in bold, dark letters.
You stared at it, blinking rapidly as your brain struggled to process what you were seeing. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” you finally said, your voice a mix of disbelief and amusement. “Is that... me name?”
“Yeah,” he said proudly, leaning back like he’d just unveiled the Mona Lisa. “Got it done while we were on the road.”
“Liam,” you said slowly, your hand covering your mouth as you tried not to laugh. “Are you mental? You know that’s permanent, right?”
“’Course I do,” he said, his grin never faltering. “That’s the whole point, innit?”
You stared at him, a mixture of exasperation and affection swirling in your chest. “You realize you’ve tattooed my name on your body forever?”
“Yeah,” he said simply, meeting your gaze. “Just like us. Stays forever.”
Your laugh burst out before you could stop it, and you shook your head, feeling equal parts amused and touched. “You’re unbelievable, you know that?”
“Always aim to please.” he said cheekily, but the sincerity in his eyes softened the moment.
You slid off the sofa and knelt in front of him, pulling his jeans down a little more to inspect the tattoo properly. It was clean and crisp, the lines healed well enough that you could see the detail clearly. Your fingers hovered over it for a moment before you finally traced the edges lightly, still not quite believing it was real.
“You’re an idiot.” you said, though your tone was more affectionate than anything else.
“Maybe,” he replied, his voice low as he watched you. “But I’m your idiot.”
You looked up at him, shaking your head again but smiling. “You know, this is actually kind of sweet. Insane, but sweet.”
He leaned down to kiss you, his lips warm and firm against yours. “Worth every bloody second.” he murmured against your mouth.
You pulled back just enough to look at him, your hand still resting lightly on his thigh. “You’re lucky I love you.” you said, smirking.
“Yeah, I am,” he said, his voice soft but steady. “More than you know.”
Your fingers lingered on the tattoo, brushing over the ink with featherlight touches as if testing its reality. The fact that your name was permanently etched on Liam’s skin sent a wave of warmth through your chest.
“He’s branded himself for you,” a voice in your mind whispered. “Yours.”
You bit your lip, eyes darting to his face. Liam was watching you with a lazy grin, though his cheeks held the faintest hint of a blush, like he knew exactly where your mind was heading. You felt your pulse quicken.
“You know,” you said softly, voice low and thick with intent, “this is kind of hot.”
Liam’s grin faltered for a second, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise. “Hot?”
“Mhm,” you murmured, sitting back on your heels and letting your hands slide higher up his thigh. His jeans were still bunched low, and you tugged them further, exposing more of his leg. “You’ve literally got my name on you, Liam. It’s like you’re claiming me... but also like you’re mine.”
His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, his confidence wavering under your sudden intensity. “I mean... I don’t mind the idea of bein’ yours, love.” he muttered, voice cracking slightly.
“Oh, I know you don’t,” you teased, smirking as you climbed back onto the couch and straddled his thigh. “But you like being told, don’t you? That you’re only meant for me?”
Liam’s breath hitched, his wide eyes flickering with recognition and something more. His hands twitched on the cushions as if unsure whether to hold onto you or stay obediently still.
“Come on, say it.” you coaxed, straddling him and rolling your hips against his thigh slowly. The fabric of your lingerie creating delicious friction between you two. “Admit it—you like it when I praise you.”
He let out a shaky exhale, his head falling back against the sofa. “Fuckin’ hell,” he muttered, his voice dripping with need. “Yeah, I do... I love it.”
You grinned triumphantly, leaning forward to nip at his jawline before whispering in his ear, “Good boy.”
His hips bucked instinctively, and a deep moan tore from his throat. You laughed softly, a little breathless yourself, and pressed your palms to his chest, keeping him pinned in place.
“You’re so easy to wind up,” you teased, rolling your hips again, a little harder this time, and you couldn’t help the soft moan that escaped your lips.
“Yeah?” Liam rasped, his voice hoarse as his hands finally settled on your hips. His grip was firm, but he didn’t try to control your movements—he let you lead. “S’pose that’s ‘cause you know how to drive me mad.”
“Do I?” you asked, feigning innocence as you ground down harder, picking up a rhythm that had you both panting. “Or is it just that you’re obsessed with me?”
“Both,” he admitted, his voice breaking slightly on the word. His head tilted forward, and his lips ghosted over your neck before he groaned. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous.”
You leaned back, taking off his shirt and dragging your nails lightly down his chest, leaving red trails on his skin. “Look at you,” you murmured, your eyes dark as you took him in. “All flushed and desperate... just for me.”
“Always for you,” he said, his hands trembling slightly on your hips. “Only you.”
The sincerity in his voice made your stomach flip, and for a moment, you paused, leaning down to kiss him deeply. His lips parted eagerly beneath yours, his tongue meeting yours in a messy manner. When you pulled back, both of you were gasping for air.
“You’re so good for me,” you whispered, grinding down harder as your fingers threaded through his hair and tugged gently. “Such a good boy, Liam.”
The praise sent another moan ripping from his throat, and his hands tightened on your waist as his hips bucked involuntarily. “Fuckin’ hell, keep sayin’ that,” he begged, his voice raw with need. “Please.”
You smiled wickedly, leaning close to kiss the corner of his mouth. “Anything for me good boy.” you purred, your words punctuated by another sharp roll of your hips.
You leaned back, your hips grinding down harder against him as a sly grin spread across your face. Liam’s head tilted back, his neck straining with the effort to keep his composure, though it was clearly a losing battle. His chest rose and fell rapidly, and the flush creeping up his cheeks made him look impossibly vulnerable, completely at your mercy.
“Oh you're so beautiful.” you whispered, your voice low and teasing as your fingers trailed down his chest, playing over the slight sheen of sweat. “All wrecked already, and I’ve barely even started.”
His lips parted, a shaky breath escaping them, but he didn’t respond—he couldn’t. His eyes flickered to yours, dazed and dark with need, silently begging for more.
You let your fingers glide down his arm, grasping his hand gently and raising it to your lips. “You like watching me, don’t you?” you asked softly, your voice carrying a taunting edge as you slowly parted your lips and took two of his fingers into your mouth.
Liam’s eyes widened, and a low moan escaped him as your tongue swirled around his fingertips, wetting them thoroughly. You made a point to hollow your cheeks slightly, dragging his fingers out with an audible pop before kissing the tips. “That’s right,” you murmured, your gaze locked on his. “Good boys don’t look away.”
“Fuckin’ hell,” he rasped, his voice hoarse as his hips bucked beneath you again. “You’re unreal.”
You grinned at his reaction, leaning forward until your lips brushed his ear. “Unreal, huh?” you teased, your breath hot against his skin. “And yet, here I am, and you're mine.”
“Yours.” he echoed, the word breaking into a desperate groan as your hips ground down harder. His hands moved higher to hold your waist, trying to steady you—or himself—but you swatted them away.
“Ah, ah,” you scolded, smirking as you sat up straighter. “Hands to yourself, Liam. You don’t touch until I say so.”
The sharp command sent a shudder through him, and his hands dropped obediently to his sides, gripping the cushions as if to keep them from wandering. “You’re bloody killin’ me.” he muttered, his voice deliciously strained.
You laughed softly, leaning down to kiss him, slow and steady, your tongue teasing his before pulling back. “Oh, love,” you murmured, your thumb brushing over his lower lip. “We’re just getting started.”
Without warning, you spat lightly into his open mouth, watching as his eyes widened in shock before darkening further. “Swallow.” you commanded, your voice firm, and he obeyed without hesitation, his throat bobbing as he did. “Good boy.”
Liam just moaned, and you felt his thighs tense beneath you, the sheer effort of holding back driving him to the brink. “Please,” he begged, his voice raw. “Need you so bad.”
You hummed thoughtfully, as if considering his plea, before reaching down to drag the lace of your panties aside. The feel of his length, hot and throbbing against your core, sent a shiver up your spine, and you couldn’t resist rolling your hips against him once more. “You need me, huh?” you whispered, your tone dripping with mock sympathy. “Then beg for it.”
“Please,” he repeated, his voice breaking as his hands clenched into fists at his sides. “Please, love, let me feel you. I’ll do whatever you want—just need you.”
His desperation was quite intoxicating, and you couldn’t resist teasing him a moment longer. “Good boy,” you purred, taking off his underwear and guiding him to your entrance with deliberate slowness. “Now, let’s see if you can be as good as you sound.”
The moment you sank down onto him, a moan tore from his throat, and his head fell back against the cushions, his eyes squeezing shut. The stretch and fullness made your own breath hitch, and for a moment, neither of you moved.
“Eyes on me,” you commanded, your fingers gripping his jaw and forcing him to look at you. “I want to see that pretty face when I ride you.”
Liam’s gaze locked on yours, his pupils blown wide with lust, and he nodded, captivated. “Y-Yeah,” he stammered, his voice shaking. “Anything for you, love.”
With a wicked grin, you began to move, setting a pace that had you both moaning in tandem, the sound of your bodies meeting filling the room. “That’s it,” you murmured, your fingers digging into his chest. “Take it like a good boy that you are.”
You rocked against Liam’s lap, the friction and heat building, every movement drawing gasps and moans from both of you. His hands gripped your hips tightly, though he still let you control the rhythm, his face a mix of pleasure and vulnerability as you moved.
As you leaned closer, you cupped his flushed face in your hands, forcing him to look at you again, your lips hovering just inches from his. “You’re so beautiful, Liam,” you murmured, your voice low and reverent. “Do you even realize what you do to me? Those eyes… that smile. It’s not fair.”
Liam’s lips parted in a shaky gasp, his pupils blown wide as he held your gaze, his chest heaving. “Fuck,” he whispered, his voice breaking slightly. “You… you’re…”
“Perfect,” you interrupted him, your thumb stroking his cheek as your hips rolled harder, grinding against him. “You’re perfect, Liam. The way you look at me, the way you touch me… no one even comes close to you. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted, everything I didn’t even know I needed.”
His breath hitched, his hands trembling slightly against your skin as he gripped you harder. His hips bucked up, and the desperation in his movements made you smile. “That’s me good boy,” you whispered, leaning down to press your lips to his ear. “Taking it so well. So good for me.”
His hands slid up your sides, his fingers finally digging into your waist as he let out a low moan. “I love you.” he rasped, his voice hoarse and uneven.
You pulled back slightly, your hands trailing down his chest, your nails lightly scratching over his skin, leaving faint red lines behind. “You deserve this,” you said, your voice soft but firm. “All of it. You deserve to feel good, Liam. You deserve everything. I love you so much.”
His lips trembled as he tried to respond, but all that came out was a choked moan, his head tipping back against the cushions as his eyes fluttered shut. You leaned down, pressing kisses along his jawline, his neck, and the column of his throat, savoring the way his body reacted to every touch.
“You’re the best, Liam,” you murmured between kisses, your lips brushing against his heated skin. “The way you take care of me, the way you’re always there for me… you don’t even realize how incredible you are, do you?”
He let out another broken sound, his hands sliding down to your thighs as his grip tightened, his breathing ragged. “Love… you’re… fuck,” he stammered, his voice cracking with emotion and need.
“Shh,” you whispered, bringing a finger to his lips. “I know. I know, love. Just let me take care of you.”
You shifted slightly, your movements more deliberate now, grinding down against him, his body jerking beneath you as a desperate moan sounded from his throat. His hands flew to your hips again, trying to slow you down, but you weren’t having it.
“Don’t hold back,” you said firmly, leaning closer so your lips were barely brushing against his. “I want to hear you. Every single sound. Don’t you dare hide it from me.”
The command made him groan loudly, his hands trembling as they slid up your thighs. “Fuckin’ hell,” he muttered, his voice wrecked. “You’re too much, love. Can’t handle it.”
“Yes, you can,” you countered, pressing a kiss to his lips before pulling back to meet his gaze. “Because you’re mine, Liam. My good boy. Aren’t you?”
His response was just a breathless, “Yeah. Yours. Always.”
You smiled, your fingers trailing down to his lips, pressing two of them into his mouth. “Good boy,” you said softly, watching as his eyes widened slightly, his tongue brushing against your fingers. “That’s it. Just like that.”
The sight of him completely at your mercy, his face flushed and his eyes dark with need sent a fresh wave of heat through you. “Look at you,” you murmured, your voice full of admiration as you began to ride him harder. “So beautiful. So perfect.”
His moans grew louder, unrestrained, filling the room as your praises poured over him. “Fuck, love,” he managed to say, his voice shaking. “I… I love you so fucking much.”
You paused for a moment, your chest tightening as you looked down at him. “I love you too.” you whispered, leaning down to kiss him, your hands framing his face as you poured every ounce of your emotion into it.
His hands gripped your hips tightly, anchoring you to him as your bodies moved together in perfect harmony. Each shift of your hips drew a sharp gasp or a deep moan from him, his head falling back slightly as his eyes locked onto yours, full of unrestrained vulnerability and passion.
“Fuck,” Liam rasped, his voice trembling with raw emotion and pleasure. “Love… you’re… you’re everything.”
You leaned in closer, your forehead brushing against his. “So are you,” you whispered, your voice shaking as your movements became more desperate, grinding against him with increasing urgency. “I mean it, Liam. No one—no one—comes close to you.”
Your words seemed to spur him on, his hips bucking up to meet yours, his grip on you tightening as his breathing became more ragged. “You’re too good,” he muttered, his voice breaking as his head tilted back. “Too fuckin’ good.”
“And you’re perfect,” you countered, leaning down to nip at his jaw, your teeth scraping lightly against his skin before soothing the spot with your tongue. “My perfect, most beautiful boy.”
The praise sent a shiver through him, and he let out another moan, his hands sliding up to cup your waist as his body tensed beneath you. The sound of his pleasure pushed you closer to the edge, your pace quickening as your nails dug into his chest, leaving faint crescents in his skin.
“Liam,” you moaned, your voice thick with need. “I’m so close.”
“Me too, love,” he choked out, his voice barely a whisper. “Fuckin’… can’t hold it…”
You leaned forward, your hands framing his face as you forced him to look at you, your gaze locking onto his. “Let go, Liam,” you murmured, your voice a mix of a plea and a command. “With me.”
With a final roll of your hips, the tension that had been building finally snapped, a wave of pleasure crashing over you as you cried out his name. Liam followed moments later, his body shuddering beneath yours as his moans filled the room. His hands clutched at you desperately, pulling you closer as you both rode out the waves together.
As the pleasure faded, you collapsed against him, your forehead resting against his shoulder as you both struggled to catch your breath. Liam’s arms wrapped around you tightly, his lips pressing soft, reverent kisses to the top of your head.
For a few moments, the room was silent save for the sound of your mingled breathing. Finally, you lifted your head, your fingers tracing over the sweat-dampened skin of his chest. “Well,” you said, your voice soft and teasing, “I think it’s only fair that I tattoo your name on me now. Right?”
Liam let out a breathless laugh, his hand coming up to cup your cheek as he grinned at you. “Don’t be daft,” he said, though his eyes sparkled with affection. “But… if you’re serious…”
You laughed, leaning down to kiss him again, soft and lingering. “We’ll see,” you murmured against his lips. “I just might be.”
_____________________________________________
hope you lot enjoyed this little piece of media xx
big thanks to @shes-thunderstormssss for the wonderful idea, was a pleasure to scribble down, can't wait to hear what you thought x
love ya all !!
#oasis x reader#oasis one shots#oasis band#britpop x f!reader#britpop x reader#britpop fanfiction#liam gallagher x reader#liam gallagher x you#liam gallagher x reader smut#liam gallagher x y/n#liam gallagher smut#liam gallagher fanfiction#oasis fanfiction#oasis fic
37 notes
·
View notes
Note
💙💙💙 love love love. Please tell me you were the mutual she asked??
Q. I know we're all excited about 911 finally going there with Eddie and Buck but what do you think are actual realistic ways they can do that? In your opinion what's a believable way the show can give Eddie his oh moment? What's a realistic show way they can have their confession to one another? I cannot seem to settle on what I think are truly realistic expectations.
A. Full disclosure I struggled answering this, lol. Not because I couldn't think of ways the show could accomplish both of these things but because every scenario I came up with felt too fanfic. I mentioned it to my friend and he agreed basically saying I've clearly been reading too much fanfic, haha. But then I mentioned it to a mutual, and she said something that should have been obvious to me but truly didn't even occur to me. She said it's been 7 years in the making there's not really anything they can do at this point that hasn't happened in fanfic already. She's absolutely correct. I don't think 'realistic' expectations are necessary. Personally I like the idea of Eddie's OH moment occurring while he's in Texas with Buck nowhere around. On a momentary side note, I'm stunned by the number of people who truly don't think Eddie will go to Texas because I absolutely believe he's going and I think he'll be there for at least a couple of episodes. There are things Eddie needs to do in Texas. Conversations and forward movement between him and Christopher, that movement cannot happen off screen or over zoom. They have to film it. The audience has to see it. Eddie also needs to confront his parents on some level. At some point the show has to have characters be held accountable and face deserved consequences for their canon behavior. Completely ignoring Gerard's and Tommy's past problematic behavior in favor of quick and easy write-offs cannot be repeated with the Diaz parents. Eddie has earned that confrontation and frankly his character needs it in order for him to fully move forward.
Okay back to your question, my apologies for the sidetracked thought. The show was clearly mirroring season 5 to some degree in 8a. I see that continuing in 8b at least in some capacity. They cannot just do another shooting arc for Eddie so having him return to Texas, which is absolutely a regression for him, is another way to tear him down to the studs emotionally and mentally without physically tearing him apart again. I think most of us believe he's over corrected his Kim mistake by allowing Christopher to run away to Texas and avoid things instead of dealing with things, but it makes character sense for Eddie that he would allow Chris to do that. Most parents would tell their kid that they can be mad at them from home but Eddie didn't do that. He let Christopher decide for himself what he wanted to do. He gave Christopher the voice and choice his parents never gave him. Eddie's parents never asked him what he wanted or how he felt about anything. His opinions, his feelings and his own wishes were never given consideration when he was growing up. He was told what to do, when to do it and how to do it. Eddie doesn't know how to want things for himself. He doesn't know how to ask for them. He really doesn't even know who he fully is as a person. He has spent his entire life reacting to what life threw at him. He's never had many choices for himself. His parents, the church, fatherhood at a young age, military and then the fire academy. Eddie reacts to orders and circumstances. He doesn't make choices. The one choice he made for himself was choosing to move to L.A. Having him 'move' back to Texas means undoing the one choice Eddie has ever made for himself. It's the perfect way to get him to his OH moment. Dealing with his parents and the reminder of how he's never been good enough for them. The conversations he and Chris will need to have in order to mend what Eddie never meant to damage (there is an entire argument to be made that Kim is really the villain here because Eddie never invited her to his home and never asked her to act like Shannon but that's a separate post). Doing all of that without the constant comforting, reassuring presence of Buck will probably be eye opening for Eddie. Buck is the one person in his life who is always on his side. Buck always has his back. I like the idea of Eddie just being emotionally exhausted and realizing he would give anything to just be able to talk Buck in that moment because Buck would make him feel better just by being there. I don't think it would require much else for Eddie to get there at that point. A little montage or moment of Eddie realizing all the times he has actively chosen Buck, without even knowing it, and all the times Buck has been there for Eddie without him even needing to ask him. Eddie's moment coming like that seems fitting for him. I also like the idea of Buck having a little spiral once he realizes the full extent of his feelings but Eddie having a moment of relief when he realizes his feelings. A deep exhale of a breath he didn't even realize he had been holding his entire life. A realization that without even trying they have chosen each other time and time again. A new found clarity that his past relationships never felt fully right not because something was broken in him but because he was missing this piece of information about himself. They made a family and it wasn't hard. It wasn't difficult for them. It happened so effortlessly because it's what's right and meant to be for them and him. Then Eddie having a moment of actively, and purposely choosing Buck and their life and family of 3, and the rest of the 118 by extension, in L.A. That's what I want for Eddie.
The Buck and Eddie love confession is where I'm not sure Tim would be able to resist the big dramatic moment. Eddie and Chris back in L.A. and Eddie back with the 118. Neither he or Buck have told the other how they feel yet though. I can see them being on a call and maybe one of them gets trapped and they can't get to him immediately so he believes he's going to die and maybe just starts talking into his radio needing to say it before he dies. The one on the outside immediately knows what's happening and says 'no not like this and not here. You wait until we get to you and you tell me in person'. That way the audience knows what's coming but it allows Buck and Eddie to have the actual moment and confession between just the two of them at Eddie's house. On the couch or in the kitchen. I just really want their first kiss to be in one of those spots. But the truth is, for me anyway, there's no wrong way for them to do it. There is also no way to do it that will please everyone. Whatever way they choose will be fine with me. I will be sat, I will be giddy, I will be emotional and I will be flying. Just give it to me, please.
Thank you Nonny! Much appreciated! We can all use some Buddie distraction on a truly blue Monday like this one.
First of all... Was I the person she talked to? 😋
Well yeah. 🙂↕️
My exact words were:
"The problem is that the slowburn has been slowburning so long now that all of the possible 'confession' and 'first kiss' scenarios have been written over and over again. So no matter what the show comes up with, it will always feel a little fanficcy because of that."
I still stand by that. No matter how they will pull this off, somewhere someone will have already written it down in a fanfic. 🤷♀️ Not that I would mind one single bit. This fandom has the best writers.
And I've said it before and I'll say it again: I truly don't care how they'll pull Buddie off. I'll be happy no matter what. I'll scream, cry and go a little insane though, I admit it. 🤣
I like all of Ali's ideas on how they might come to their realisations and what the confession moment might look like. I agree with so much of it.
I'm also 100% sure that Buddie IS happening and that Eddie IS going to El Paso. He'll be there for a few episodes, no doubt about it. It's like Ali said, he needs his moment to shine. And I'll love every second of it, because I truly believe that Eddie deserves his happiness, but as long as he keeps denying himself 'joy', he'll never get that happiness.
He needs to break free from the shackles of other people's expectations and only then will he be able to pursue what he truly wants: happiness and joy, no matter what it looks like. And I believe that, in Eddie's case, it looks like his son at home in LA and embracing his romantic feelings for his best friend Buck.
I can't wait for the show to come back in March. I've missed my dysfunctional found family of firefighters so much. 🤗
Heads up! For anyone who is giving me the shifty eyes for reposting Ali's updates instead of reblogging. Read this.
Remember, no hate in comments, reblogs or inboxes. Let's keep it civil and respectful. Thank you.
If you are interested in more of Ali’s posts, you can find all of her posts so far under the tag: anonymous blog I love.
#anonymous blog I love#buddie speculation#buddie#eddie diaz#evan buckley#season 8 speculation#nonnies galore
39 notes
·
View notes