#and i couldn’t tell then if it was because he didn’t think he would make it until then

[fastandcarlos]

Halfway Round The World For You : ̗̀➛ Max Verstappen

summary: as the two of you find long distance harder, max comes up with a solution that might just solve your problem of being so far away

A groan came from you as once again your call went unanswered, the beep of Max’s answerphone your usual greeting. You looked down at your watch again, sure that he would be awake as you quickly did the maths to figure out the current time difference between you both again. 

Whilst he was getting himself ready for the day, you were ready to see the end of it. As usual, there was one final thing that you needed to do before falling asleep, and that was to speak to Max and catch up. 

Mostly, he agreed to do it as it was his way of checking up on you. When you were so far away from him whilst he was racing, he worried about you. Were you resting? Eating? Not getting stressed at work? He never really knew the answer unless he called you and got to see for himself. 

As you were about to give up, your phone rang, making you jump. You glanced across, quickly picking up. “Hi love.” 

“Hi, I thought you were too busy for me today.” 

“Don’t be silly,” Max grinned, adjusting his phone so that you could see his face. 

Your smile turned up as you sat your phone down on your bedside table to free your hands up. As you glanced at Max though, his usual smile wasn’t there, replaced by a frown that had you worrying. 

“How’s everything going? Are you all ready for the race this weekend?” You quizzed, excited to see Max back behind the wheel for the start of the new season. 

His head nodded, with hardly any expression on his face. “The car is alright, but I’m not exactly confident.” 

His voice sounded dejected, the passion that Max usually spoke about work with had gone. He brushed his hand through his hair as he let go of a sigh which you just about managed to hear. 

“What’s going on Max?” You asked him, “and don’t say nothing, because I know you too well.” 

His heart sunk as his eyes met yours on the screen, noticing just how concerned you were. Although he was halfway around the world, you knew him like the back of your hand, picking up on all the signs that things weren’t right. 

“It’s ridiculous, isn’t it? I managed to spend most of the off season with you and I’m already missing you. I just know I’m probably not going to be able to spend any proper time with you again until summer break,” Max confessed. 

You smiled weakly as he spoke, “I’ll still come to most of your races Max, and when I can I’ll fly out to Monaco to see you, you know we always make it work.” 

“But I’m fed up of having to make it work, this isn’t how I want it to be forever, I’m so fed up of this long-distance thing.” 

You didn’t know what to say as Max’s eyes looked down from the phone, staring down at the ground. You could tell this was something that had been troubling Max for some time as he finally offloaded on you. You gave yourself a moment before responding, trying your best to figure out the right thing to say, not wanting to make Max feel any worse than he already did. 

“It’s not going to be like this forever.” 

Max wanted to believe you, but he just wasn’t sure. It had been two years of back and forth between you both, and it wasn’t getting any easier. If anything, Max found it harder, he wanted to spend more time with you, but he just couldn’t. 

“I wish you could be with me, permanently,” Max confessed. “It’s so strange how weird everything feels without you by my side. All the little things, like how we were constantly bumping into each other trying to move around your flat.” 

“I miss it too,” you assured, staring around your empty flat. “But you’ve got work, another world championship to win, and I don’t have the money to be able to fly out with you every weekend, or ever afford a place in Monaco.” 

Your words caught Max’s attention for a moment as he let go of a hum. You could tell by the way his eyes narrowed that Max was thinking about something, studying him closely as you tried to figure out what exactly was going through his head. 

Max knew that Monaco was an expensive place, and not somewhere that you wouldn’t be able to stay by himself, but that didn’t mean that it was somewhere that you could rule out, not completely anyway. 

“What about if we did something about that? What if Monaco wasn’t a place where you had to live all by yourself?” Max asked you, watching as you looked at him in confusion. 

“What are you trying to say Max?” You enquired. 

The way his smile turned up had you worrying, you knew that Max had plenty of crazy ideas, dreading to think what sort of master plan he had come up with this time. 

“I’m saying why don’t you move to Monaco, but come and stay with me. You spent most of the summer with me anyway, and work would allow you to stay there,” Max encouraged. “Even if I’m still racing, it means each time I’m home we can spend time together.” 

You went to speak, but your voice faltered, struggling to believe what you’d heard. “That’s a huge move,” you whispered, “Monaco isn’t exactly next door, it’s thousands of miles away.” 

“But it’s where I am love.” 

Your head nodded, you knew that Max had a point, but moving wasn’t an easy thing. There would be plenty of things that you’d have to leave behind, uncertain as to whether that was something that you could do. 

“It’s a huge thing Max.” 

“I know,” he frowned, worried that he had put his foot in it. “I’m not saying you need to make a decision now; I just thought it would be nice for us to be together properly. 

Max was beginning to regret his offer as he noticed the panic in your eyes. You didn’t know what you wanted, you loved your home, but you loved Max too. It was a huge sacrifice, and although you loved visiting Monaco, was it the place that you wanted to live forever? 

“You don’t need to agree, or disagree now,” Max insisted, “I’m not saying you’d have to move permanently either. But if you did move to Monaco, I’d help you every step of the way. Moving, sorting work out, finding things for you to do, I’d do whatever it took. The thought of having you there every morning though is like a dream.” 

Your hands ran through your hair, your heart racing as you overthought everything. Every possible situation, good and bad, suddenly seemed to rush through your mind as fast as a race car. 

“Can you just say something? Anything?” Max whimpered. 

Your eyes slowly flickered up to look at the screen again, your heart aching as you looked at Max, knowing that he was so far away from you. 

“I’d love to move to Monaco,” you told him, much to his relief. “It’s not going to be an easy move, but you’re right, we can’t carry on like this forever Max.” 

“Really? And you’re absolutely sure?” Max asked, wanting to double check. 

Your head nodded, sure in your heart that Monaco was the perfect place for you. “If it’s where you are, then it’s where I want to be too.” 

“You’ve got no idea how happy you’ve just made me,” Max chuckled, “I love you, I can’t wait to have you with me, to finally make my place a home for the both of us.” 

“I love you too, Max.” 

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[rafecameronssl4t]

Ferrari's Golden Boy and his Girl || F1 driver!Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

Summary: ur first appearance in the paddock with Rafe :)

Warnings: noneee

Word count: 1,936

A/n: if you couldn't tell by my pfp of Alexandra, i love her and she's who i imagine when i write these f1 fics but of course its up to you!!!!

MASTERLIST (f1 driver x fem!reader au masterlist)

divider by @h-aewo

The world of Formula 1 was glamorous but intimidating, and you felt the weight of a thousand eyes on you. Speculations about your relationship with Rafe, Ferrari's Golden Boy, had been swirling for months, growing louder with every blurred paparazzi photo and cryptic comment he let slip in interviews.

Coming from Rafe’s hometown in the Outer Banks, you weren’t accustomed to attention from the public eye and a sea of flashing camera. Paparazzi had caught glimpses of you together over the past few months—dinners at intimate restaurants, quiet walks along the beach, stolen kisses on his yacht—but this was different.

This was your official debut as his girlfriend, stepping into the spotlight for the first time. Your heart raced, not from the adrenaline of the sport but from the nerve-wracking reality of being here, surrounded by people who lived and breathed Formula 1. You’d spent countless nights scrolling through social media, seeing how some fans could be—relentless in their opinions, cutting down a driver’s girlfriend simply because they didn’t like her.

It was tough sometimes, imagining yourself on the receiving end of that scrutiny. Would they think you were good enough for Rafe? Would they nitpick your every move, your every word, just to find flaws? The thought had kept you awake the night before, despite Rafe’s reassurances.

Rafe, walking beside you, was as confident as ever, exuding the easy charisma that had made him both a star on the track and off. His hand rested at the small of your back, guiding you through the chaos, even outside the paddock gates, with practised ease. Your hands were slightly shaky as you scanned your paddock pass, “You good?” he asked, leaning down so only you could hear.

His voice was low and steady, a stark contrast to the chaotic energy around you. You glanced up at him. “I think so,” you said softly, your voice barely audible over the noise. “Don’t think,” he said, his tone teasing but affectionate. “Just walk in there like you own the place. Because, baby, you kind of do.” He adds, kissing the side of your head.

You couldn’t help but laugh, though the nerves didn’t completely fade. Rafe had an unmatched ability to make you feel like you belonged, even when you doubted yourself. You smooth out your red dress—one he had personally insisted you wear. "You'll match the car," he'd teased, a boyish grin spreading across his face. "And I'll look like the luckiest guy in the paddock."

As you walked past the throngs of fans lined against the barriers, the buzz grew louder. Their cheers grew louder, a cacophony of voices calling out Rafe’s name—and, to your surprise, your own. Phones were raised, the flashes of cameras capturing every moment. Your heart raced, a mix of nerves and exhilaration coursing through you.

"See, they like you already," Austin, Rafe's personal trainer teased gently. His tone was lighthearted, a deliberate attempt to ease your obvious unease. He nudged your arm, grinning as you chuckled softly, trying to shake off the nerves that clung to you. Rafe, ever composed and effortlessly charming, raised his hand in a casual wave to the crowd.

You followed his lead, offering a small, tentative wave and a smile that you hoped looked more confident than you felt. Rafe checked his watch before glancing at the crowd again. “We’ve got time, don’t we?” he asked Austin, though it was more rhetorical than a genuine inquiry. Without waiting for a response, he veered toward a particularly animated group of fans near the front of the barrier.

You stayed back with Austin, watching as Rafe transitioned seamlessly into fan mode. He moved with ease, signing caps, shirts, and posters, pausing for selfies, and exchanging quick banter with his supporters. Your gaze softened as you observed him, pride swelling in your chest. He looked so at home in this chaotic environment, his bright smile and relaxed demeanor making him seem untouchable yet entirely approachable.

Then, as if he could feel your eyes on him, Rafe turned his head to look at you. A mischievous smile danced on his lips as he said something, his words lost in the roar of the crowd. “What’s he saying?” you asked Austin, tilting your head in confusion. Rafe then blew you a kiss with an exaggerated flair, his grin widening when he saw the shy smile it drew from you.

“Rafe, is that your girlfriend over there?” a girl asked as he scribbled his autograph on his photo. Her tone was curious but warm, not laced with the venom you’d feared. Rafe glanced back at you, his smile softening into something almost tender. “Yeah,” he said proudly, not missing a beat. “That’s her. She’s gorgeous, isn’t she?” The fans erupted into cheers, their excitement palpable as they turned their attention to you.

You froze for a moment, feeling the heat rush to your cheeks, but Rafe’s unwavering confidence in you gave you the courage to offer another small wave. “I hope you guys love her as much as I do,” Rafe added, his tone light but sincere. After a few more photos and quick goodbyes, Rafe made his way back to you, his stride confident and purposeful. As soon as he reached you, his arm slipped naturally around your shoulders, pulling you into his side.

“What were you saying back there?” you asked, looking up at him with curiosity. Rafe didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to your cheek, his lips lingering just enough to make your heart flutter. “Just telling them how gorgeous you are,” he replied casually, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. You felt the blush creeping up your neck, your cheeks warm as you let out a soft, embarrassed giggle.

Rafe chuckled, clearly pleased with your reaction, and squeezed your shoulder. The paddock was a whirlwind of activity. Team members darted around, engineers shouted commands, and reporters lingered, waiting for their chance to snag an interview. Rafe navigated it effortlessly, introducing you to key people as you clung to his side, trying to take it all in.

As he prepared to leave for his pre-race routine, he turned to you, the confident façade slipping just enough for you to catch a glimpse of his vulnerability. “You’re gonna be okay?” he asked quietly, his fingers lingering at your side. You nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Yeah. I’ll be fine, I'll hang out with Sofia," You say, glancing back at Sofia who was Rafe's teammate's girlfriend.

He leaned in, pressing a kiss to your forehead that lingered just long enough to make your cheeks flush. “Good. Because you belong here with me, whether you believe it yet or not.” As he walked away, you felt the cameras capturing the moment, and for the first time, you didn’t feel out of place. You felt proud. Proud to be by his side, no matter how intimidating the spotlight might be.

~

"Rafe Cameron wins the Spanish Grand Prix, and it is a 1-2 finish for the Scuderia Ferrari!" The commentator's jubilant voice rang through your headphones, the words igniting an explosion of joy in the Ferrari garage. The moment the announcement registered, you and Sofia turned to each other, your faces lighting up with pure elation.

Without thinking, you both started squealing, your voices blending into the symphony of celebration around you. You grabbed her hands, jumping up and down like giddy schoolgirls, the weight of nerves and anticipation finally melting away. “They did it!” Sofia shouted, her wide grin matching yours as you both clung to each other, overwhelmed by the magnitude of the victory.

The rest of the Ferrari garage erupted into cheers, a sea of red erupting with applause, hugs, and celebratory fist pumps. Engineers and crew members were already spilling out onto the pitlane, sprinting toward the podium to catch a glimpse of their drivers and bask in the glory of the victory. You could barely hear yourself think over the noise, but it didn’t matter.

The joy was infectious, and you found yourself swept up in the chaos, laughing and cheering along with everyone else. Sofia nudged you with her elbow, her face flushed with excitement. “We’ve gotta get to the podium!” You didn’t need to be told twice. Linking arms with her, you followed the stream of Ferrari personnel down the pitlane. Your heart pounded in your chest—not from nerves this time, but from pride and exhilaration.

As you reached the podium area, the roar of the crowd hit you like a wave. Thousands of fans filled the grandstands, waving Ferrari flags and chanting Rafe’s name. The energy was electric, the entire circuit seemingly united in celebration. The team’s staff ushered you and Sofia forward, guiding you both to the front row, just behind the barriers, giving you the perfect view. And then you saw him, climbing out of his car with a triumphant smile that lit up his entire face.

He threw his arms up in victory, basking in the adoration of the crowd. Your heart raced as Rafe's eyes locked onto yours in the midst of the roaring crowd. His grin widened, that familiar spark of mischief in his gaze, and he pointed directly at you. It felt like the world slowed for just a moment—just you and him, amidst the chaos.

The cameras snapped furiously, capturing the fleeting connection between you both, and a wave of pride surged through you. Without thinking, you blew him a kiss, your smile so wide it felt like your cheeks might burst from the effort. His response was immediate. With a joyful laugh and a skip in his step, Rafe jumped down from his car, making his way toward you as if nothing else in the world mattered.

As he reached you, he pulled you into a tight embrace, lifting you off your feet for a moment, as the crowd's cheers grew louder around you. The cameras followed you both closely, documenting the raw, unfiltered joy of the moment. "You did it, baby!" you exclaimed, your voice muffled slightly by the noise around you, but the sentiment was clear.

Rafe held you close, his arms strong around your back, his helmet still on, the sweaty material of his racing suit rubbing against your skin. He laughed, a deep, satisfied sound that resonated with the energy of the victory. "Couldn’t have done it without you," he murmured, his voice low but filled with emotion. Then, with a playful grin, he lifted his visor, revealing the intensity of his eyes beneath.

You leaned up and placed a quick, soft kiss on his helmet, the action gentle and affectionate. The cameras caught the moment, and you could hear the claps and whistles of Rafe's teammates in the background. You pulled away, giggling shyly, feeling the heat rush to your face as the attention turned to you.

Rafe chuckled and pulled you close again, wrapping his arms around your waist as his team started to gather around, congratulating him, giving high-fives, and sharing the celebratory moment with the driver of the day. But even as they swarmed him, Rafe never let go of you, his hand resting possessively on your back as he basked in his well-earned victory.

[gooobraghhh]

I take overstimulation extremely seriously just so we’re all aware.

Most I’ve ever made a guy cum was 27 times in one session and all of those happened in the span of about 5-10 minutes

Got him really warmed up and started fucking him with a dildo while I alternated between whispering in his ear, biting his neck, playing with his chest etc. After only a minute or two he shyly muttered out that he was going to cum. I stopped, stared directly at him and we had this brief, telling moment of eye contact before he got so embarrassed he had to turn away. We both knew he was under the impression he couldn’t cum without touching his dick and the fact he almost just did was so fucking hot to me.

I pinned his leg over my shoulder and continued. Within a minute he was back to how he was before, just on the verge and I kept moving it while he shook beneath me. Finally let up after he came all over my hand and I asked if he’d cum sarcastically to make fun of how obvious and hard it was and he just whimpered out “… I came twice”

He absolutely should not have told me this because as soon as I knew making him cum over and over was on the table I was determined to go as far as I possible could, and hearing him say two like that was addictively cute. I Pinned him even more and continued, told him to count every time he cums before quickly getting back into it.

27 times I made this very masc dude cum. 27!

Didn’t even think that was a possible number. Every 15-30 seconds I’d feel him tense up and clench on the dildo then I’d hear his little chocked voice murmur out a number before I kept going. He made a giant fucking mess, squirting basically each time in the beginning. I kept moving the goal post further and further, “come on let’s just get to 10 puppy!”, “I think we could do 15 don’t you?”, “Whoops that was a 16th one, well we might as well get to twenty, right?”. He was fully trembling, shaking, crying. His eyes were in constant state of being rolled back and the noises he was making were so intense. The best part was hearing him count though, it was the only coherent thing he would say and he struggled to get out each number but if he didn’t count I’d start choking him.

Hearing a grown man moan out “25” or whatever ridiculous number we were on has to be one of the hottest things I’ve experienced. I would have kept going forever but he was begging and pleading for me to stop and for some reason I don’t think he believed that I’d really let him be done at 30

He was a complete fucking mess after as you’d imagine. Basically just sat there in a daze for 10 minutes but I made sure to make fun of him. I mean 27? Really? Just an embarrassingly high number. He also physically couldn’t handle any play for like several days after this so safe to say I throughly worked him out.

I guess now my goal in life will be to get someone to 30

[littlelamy]

Rafe taking care of Reader who goes through a depressive episode. She’s feeling like she is a burden and feels like everyone would be happier with her gone. Maybe things are pretty new between them, only gone on a few dates so she obviously (like most) isn’t going to tell him anything and doesn’t think she matters to a guy she has gone on a few dates with anyway, so she just stops responding to his texts

a/n: thank you for requesting!⭐️ i hope i wrote it appropriately to what you requested 🙂💗part 2 is up!

the first time rafe noticed something was off, it was subtle—just a missed text here and there. maybe a delayed reply. nothing unusual at first. he probably told himself you were busy. everyone has those days where life gets hectic.

but when hours stretched into days and your replies went from short to nonexistent, he started to feel that quiet pull of worry.

“hey, you okay?” he texted the day before, after his third unanswered message.

you saw it pop up on your screen. his name glowed against the darkness of your room, and for a moment, your heart ached with the idea of answering. but then the thought crept in.

he’s just being polite. he barely knows you. he’s probably relieved you stopped answering anyway.

so you let the screen go dark.

you told yourself it didn’t matter. it wasn’t like you two were serious. you’d only gone on a handful of dates, and even though every moment with rafe had been sweet and effortless, there was no way someone like him could actually care.

you’d been wrong about people before.

the weight in your chest had only grown heavier over the past few weeks. even getting out of bed felt impossible some days, let alone pretending to be okay for someone like rafe cameron. so, you didn’t bother. you shut your phone off, buried it under a pillow, and let the world fade into static.

the knock at your door startled you.

at first, you thought it might’ve been a neighbor or a delivery driver, someone just passing through. but then it came again, louder this time, more deliberate.

“y/n?”

you froze, your breath catching as his voice carried through the door.

“it’s rafe.”

you stared at the door like it might open on its own. the last thing you wanted was to face him, especially like this. but hearing his voice made your chest tighten in a way you couldn’t quite explain.

“i, uh…” he hesitated, the sound of him shifting his weight audible through the thin walls. “i just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

you stayed silent, hoping he’d take the hint and leave. but deep down, you knew rafe wasn’t the kind of guy to just walk away.

“you don’t have to let me in,” he added, his voice softer now, almost pleading. “just… let me know you’re alright.”

you clenched your fists, trying to will the lump in your throat away. how were you supposed to explain that you weren’t alright? that you hadn’t been alright in weeks?

the knock came again, gentler this time.

“i’m not leaving until i know you’re okay,” he said firmly, though there was no anger in his voice. only concern.

you sat frozen for what felt like forever, listening to the silence on the other side of the door. maybe he’d given up. maybe he was walking away right now, realizing this wasn’t worth his time.

but then your phone buzzed from where it lay buried under the pillow.

you hesitated before reaching for it, your hands trembling as you unlocked the screen.

rafe <3: hey, i’m outside your place. not trying to bother you, i just wanted to check in. if you need space, i get it. just let me know you’re alright, okay?

your chest ached as you read the words. there was nothing demanding about them, nothing that made you feel guilty or trapped. he wasn’t asking for anything except to know you were safe.

and that made it worse somehow.

because you weren’t.

taglist: @namelesslosers @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @sixrosberg @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @kissrotten @rafesangelita @sstargirln @rafedaddy01 @soldesole @bakugouswaif @skywalker0809 @vanessa-rafesgirl @evermorx89 @aariahnaa @outerhills @ditzyzombiesblog

[onlinedolly]

Pllsss hear me out- dad leon with a alt kid, they're socially awkward and don't have any friends- but it's okay, leon can be your friend, he's all you need after all! And his kiddo smokes weed, not being too bothered by it, it helps with your anxiety-

But he can't help but get hard when you smile up at him with hazey red eyes and a big toothy grin! Stuttering and mumbling over your words because your brain is just too fogged up, Your just too cute!

So when you were smoking the next time he saw you, you were watching a movie and he asks to join you, sitting behind you on the bed, only starting with a hand rubbing on your back as you both watch the movie- but every hit you take leon gets more and more touchy until eventually he pounding into you, holding your face into your bed until your both crying, you from overstimulation, and leon crying that he's sorry, he'll make it up to you, he always does! (*￣∇￣*)

ohhhhh anonnie i’m wet LOL!!!!

cw warning: drug use, incest, dd:dne, rough sex, noncon, loser perverted leon, rough leon

“feelin good, hm?” leon would ask as he climbs into your bed, stroking your hair as some movie, he doesn’t really care that much about, plays in the background. leon had always been a lax dad, you were a decent enough kid and you didn’t have many friends, meaning you didn’t go out much (which he was thrilled by), so you found yourself hanging out with your father more then anything.

yes, he was a cop and yes you smoked weed but he wasn’t going to tell, he’d promised when he first found out. if that’s the worst thing you’re doing, how could he really be that mad? besides, it made you so kind to your sweet father.

you nod your head as he runs his fingers through your hair, sinking next to you on the bed. you’re fixated on the movie but all he can do is look at you, he watches as you smoke in your joint, leaning into his touch as he keeps running his fingers through your hair. as you get more hazy and high he moves his hand to rub small circles on your back, moving around a bit as he feels his cock start to stiffen.

why was his cock getting hard? why was he thinking these thoughts? your father thought to himself, he’d noticed you before in your little dresses and pretty makeup, but he always pushed it to the back of his mind. but now? now he couldn’t resist, how would he? not when you were sprawled out on the bed for him, leaning against his touch as he runs circles in your back.

so your dad tests the water first, moving his hang to grip your waist pulling you closer to him, when he notices you don’t shift away from him moves his hang up and down on your hip, that getting your attention.

“what are you doing?” you asked, soft, hazy, n sweet.

“just trust me baby,” leon speaks back just as kindly as he moves his hand to hover over the front of your panties. this was it. the point of no return. how would you react? he thought. would you push him away, call him a pervert? god he kind of was a pervert, a terrible man. a disgusting man who can’t help himself as he ghosts his fingers over clothed cunt. you late out a hazy gasp, but not moving much as he sneaks his fingers into your panties.

“this okay, baby?” he speaks low, running a finger up your cunt teasingly. you shudder and look at him with glossy eyes.

“daddy i…dunno.” you speak earnestly, you talked like you didn’t want it but from how wet he could feel you getting he kept on, spreading your puffy cunt with two fingers.

you sink down into his touch, grabbing his wrist with a limp hold, “daddy this….” you gasp a bit as he rubs past your clit, “…this ain’t right.”

“i know babygirl, im so sorry.” leon speaks as he places a kiss to the top of your head, rubbing soft circles into your fat clit. he felt terrible about it, touching you like this, he was your fucking father and now he’s nothing more then just a perverted man touching his daughter. “daddy’s so sorry.”

the circling around you clit speeds up as he watches you let out soft moans underneath him, twitching. he replaced his fingers with his thumb on your clit we he tries to insert a singular finger in you. you gasp at the pain and he practically moans at how tight it is. once inside he gives you a second to adjust before thrusting his finger in and out of you listening to how your whines turn into deep moans.

“d-daddy—“ your broken voice calls out as he picks up the pace, “we should stop.” you plead, but leon sees right through your facade as you wiggle around in his touch moaning softly.

“i know baby, i know. daddy’s so sorry, daddy’ll getcha whatever you want after, okay? just—“ he picks up the pace, rubbing your clit hard as he fucks you with his fingers, “let daddy do this okay?”

you’re about to cum, you can feel the coil of heat inside you and it’s about to snap. when you do cum, it’s hard and you’re bucking against your fathers fingers. the sight alone could make leon cream himself, but he’s not done. no, not yet.

he gives you time to adjust from your orgasm before he’s pushing you into the bed, face in the pillow and ass propped up as you’re on all fours. he’s fumbling around anxiously now, anxious to feel your tight cunt suck in his cock, as he unbuckles his belt and hurriedly pulls down his jeans. you’re in nothing but a pretty nightgown and black lacy panties making you the easiest of access.

once leon has his cock out he strokes it, letting out a deep guttural groan at the sight of you. and then he’s pulling down your panties and you panic, sobering up the tiniest bit as you try to raise up, to no avail since leon has you pinned to the bed.

“daddy this really isn’t okay—“ he slaps your ass, sending your body forward and you whine out loudly.

“sorry daddy hit you baby, daddy’s so so sorry,” he leans his head back in ecstasy before hes lining himself up with you, pushing himself into your tight cunt. “just let daddy do this, please baby.” and god you feel like heaven. tighter then he thought and so wet and hot. it’s almost impossible to work himself into you as you cry and whimper and clench around him. but oh, does leon love a challenge. so he thrusts harder as he finally gets himself fully inside of you.

“daddy!” you yelp, sobbing into the pillow as your clit pulses at the delicious feeling of him ripping you open. and then he starts, a brutal pace, a downright mean pace. especially for fucking his daughter who he knew was a pretty little virgin. but he couldn’t help it, you felt so good when you clenched in pain around his cock as he thrust into you with such force it made your head bang against the head board.

he had your hair a ball in his fist as he pushed your face into the pillow, muffling your screams and soft moans as he tears you from the inside out. your cunt is dripping all over his cock, the bed, as you let out little pleads asking him to stop but he just can’t.

he brings his free hand to your nipples under your shirt, squeezing them harshly as he collapses his body on top of yours, biting roughly into your shoulder, “jesus fuck baby, feel so so good. daddy’s so sorry he can’t stop, your just—“ thrust “so fucking—” thrust “—tight” thrust. you’re a mess at this point, sobbing and drooling into the pillow as he continues his brutal pace.

once leon finally comes, it’s a lot, hot and it fills you so full you think your going to pass out. his hips stutter as he jerks against your body, cumming and growling loudly in your ear. you’re a mess of tears and snot as he pulls out of you, his soft demeanor returning as he places a kiss to the back of your head. “daddy’s so sorry baby, getcha whatever you want to make it right, please forgive me?” he’s tearful now, stroking the back of your head as you lay there limp and out of it. leon was a perverted terrible man.

[thoughtfulfiction]

Hot in Herre

Author’s note: Here we are, I’ve been bitten by the Joe bug. My first Burrow fic and my first time in a LONG time not writing Justin so here we go!

“Oh baby, there’s absolutely no way you’re getting out of this. A bet is a bet remember?”

If looks could kill, you’d be long gone by the death glare that you’re met with. “This isn’t fair. How in the world did you eat that entire plate without reaching for your drink once? Monster.” He thinks his nose may be running and his lips are on fire but you seem to be relaxed and carefree sitting across from him on the couch. You pat him on the leg as a sign of pity, which you know he hates. You’re just celebrating your win appropriately, silently rubbing it in his face. You know it’d be much worse if the roles were reversed so you don’t feel as bad.

He carefully moves his leg out of your reach, crossing his arms over his chest and continuing his mini temper tantrum, all because of one little challenge that he didn’t win.

You scoot closer to him, grabbing his hand, “now Joseph, don’t be a sore loser.”

“Have you ever met me?” He cracks a smile, no matter how badly he doesn’t want to. You making small circles on his hand with your thumb almost always makes him melt, like putty in your hands, just for a second until he remembers his devastating loss. “Be honest with me,” he narrows his eyes, “how did you do it?”

Leaning in without breaking eye contact you whisper, “I will never reveal my secrets. And I’ll be making a reservation for two on Friday night so I expect you to be ready.” With a swift kiss on the cheek, you leave him stuck in his seat.

The day started out as any normal bye week Wednesday, Joe got up early to get a workout in, his body fully recovered from the recent beatings he’d taken during games, and spent most of the afternoon mulling over ever life choice he’s ever made on the couch or in his office. You could practically hears the gears turning in his brain, pondering the different scenarios that needed to happen in order for the Bengals to scratch and claw their way into the playoffs.

Of course you wanted to be a positive and supportive partner, a shoulder to cry on when needed and someone to bounce ideas off of, but the fact of the matter was that this may be a long shot and the season looked more over by the minute. Not that you would ever say that out loud. So instead, you suggested a little game for dinner, Joe’s second of the night and your first and only. Most of the time his eating schedule was hard to keep up with.

You knew that he loved spicy food and his chef just had some Carolina Reapers delivered, some of the hottest peppers he could find. Desperately trying to get him out of his head, you made two noodle dishes with the peppers, stating that the first person to take a drink loses. If he won, he’d get three uninterrupted video game nights a week whenever he wanted for a month. And if you won? A karaoke date.

Which led you to today and would explain Joe’s visceral reaction at the thought of singing. Or having any fun during a very NOT fun time in his life. Alas, you were determined to make this an enjoyable experience for everyone involved. Hopefully.

As much as Joe dreaded it, Friday came and it was time to go. He watched somewhat happily as you bounded down the stairs, snatching the keys on the counter and asking him if he was ready to leave. You could tell he wanted to ask you why he couldn’t drive, but he swallowed his pride and let himself be the passenger prince for once. This week was meant for relaxation, letting his hair down and stepping away from the disappointment of the team underperforming based on his and the entire NFL world’s expectations. The more time passed, the more people were starting to believe that maybe their best days were behind them. That 2021 playoff run was in the rear view mirror and the possibility of getting back to that caliber looked near impossible.

You spent the entire drive thinking about how the weight of it all was clearly weighing on him and you just wanted to help him lighten that load by doing something you both considered silly and meaningless. Joe’s unwavering focus and need for a routine during the season was impressive and admirable, but you needed to let him know this week that life was still full of little pleasures. You hoped that day would serve to remind him of that.

The two of you walked into the dimly lit room, ushered through the back where your private karaoke space awaited. Neon lights adorned the place and made you feel like you were in some coming of age film, except you already had the guy you wanted.

“This place is huge,” your boyfriend notes, looking around suspiciously. “It’s just gonna be the two of us, right? Because I’m not singing for an audience.”

“You play in front of 65,000 people at home games but THIS is where you draw the line?” You laugh.

He shrugs his shoulders, taking a seat on the leather couch with a water bottle firmly in hand. “That’s different, I spend all week getting prepared, studying my opponent, going to practice. It’s just football. This is…not my area of expertise.”

“I don’t want you to be perfect, I want you to have fun.” Joe sighs at your words, glancing towards you slightly in awe as you mindlessly look through the song selection. You set your sights on the perfect song, gently grabbing the mic and getting yourself mentally prepared.

Joe playfully rolls his eyes at you tiny imitation of him meditating and getting in the zone before a game. “You ready?” He asks.

After a firm nod, you hear the music play, Chandelier by Sia blasting on the speakers. Joe had heard your rendition of the song in the shower on many occasions, but now he’d be listening to you on the big stage.

You loved having his full attention for a few hours, the way his icy blue eyes looked softer in this light, the way the smile reached his eyes when you sang a note a little off key and kept going…you might have even started singing a little louder to really drive the performance home. He gave you a standing ovation when you were done shaking his head as he laughed, the previous tension in his shoulders had disappeared and you were grateful because it was there so frequently you thought it had become permanent and he’d never relax again. But there he was, bright eyed and highly amused at your conviction in committing to the bit and your ability to never take yourself too seriously. It was one of his favorite things about you, the confidence you had in yourself and your ability to make those around you at ease. And he felt bad for not telling you enough how much that really meant to him. The least he could do now was give you the performance of a lifetime.

“Alright,” he sighs walking closer to you, grabbing the purple mic off the rack, “watch and learn.”

“Oh? The reluctant student has become the master. I like where this is going.” A subtle hint of his cocky demeanor sends shivers down your spine, and you try your best to ignore whatever is going on between your legs.

Even if you did try to tell anyone tonight happened, they wouldn’t believe you. There’s no way on earth that Joe Burrow actually got up and sang the entirety of Hot in Herre by Nelly without missing a single word. No chance. And yet…here you were witnessing a moment in history that fascinated and mesmerized you so much that you didn’t even reach for your phone to record it. Living in the moment, enjoying the feeling of his hands on you waist, pulling you in so that your bodies were close enough to use the same mic while you did the ad-libs was everything you could’ve asked for, and more, out of this karaoke date night.

When the music stopped playing, you were too gobsmacked to even laugh let alone form a coherent thought. “Where the hell did that come from?”

He’s always keeping you on your toes, that’s for sure, but this came out of left field. Way left.

“I don’t know,” he laughs, parking himself next to you running his fingers through his barely there blond tips. “Saw you have fun with it and I just thought, why not do the same?”

“Well I’m very impressed. And I think we should do another song.”

So you did, for the next hour. Kid Cudi was on the Setlist of course, a little Beyoncé thrown in there and by the end of your reserved time neither of you could remember the last time you’d laughed as hard or as often during football season. All of that just reenforced the fact that he really needed tonight.

You let Joe drive the two of you home, feeling him pause before pulling out of the parking lot.

“What’s on your mind?” Your voice was gentle, soothing him and making seemingly all of his problems vanish into the night.

He grabs your hand over the center console, looking over with so much love in his eyes. “I just wanted to thank you. For today. For—for everyday. I know this isn’t the most fun time and I haven’t been the easiest or most fun to be around but, you’re always here for me and I appreciate that more than I can say out loud. So this is me…trying to be better.”

“Honey, I am so proud of you. Just couldn’t keep sitting there, letting you blame yourself for everything that’s going wrong. You deserve the world and I can’t give you that but I can give you goofy little date nights. I hope that’s enough.”

The quarterback smiles, letting one hand rest on your cheek, “it’s more than enough. I just wish I could do more for the team you know? I don’t play defense but maybe I’m not leading them enough or motivating guys to be at their best?”

“No, stop. A year ago you were about to have season ending wrist surgery that no quarterback has ever gone through before. Now you’re statistically the best quarterback in the league and you’re playing the best you’ve ever played in your entire life. I know you’re not happy with where the team is at but you should be over the moon about how far you’ve come and how far you can go. I’ll be with you every step of the way, you know that.”

You can tell he’s about to open his mouth to downplay your words so you continue before he can put a stop to it. “If your performance post injury isn’t enough of an example or enough of a motivation tactic then that’s on them. You are putting your best foot forward daily and if they aren’t matching that energy then things need to change. Things that don’t include you. I may be biased but I think you’re perfect,” you give him a peck on the lips, feeling the smile on the corner of his mouth beginning to form.

He put the car in the drive, shaking his head. “You’re just saying that because I sang Nelly for you.”

“I can neither confirm nor deny that statement. I’m just very glad I won the bet.”

[insidekatmind]

She is no match with you~ Pope Heyward

Wearning: +18,smut, jealousy, english is not my first language.

It was a hot summer day at John B.’s cabin, and the atmosphere between you and Pope was perfect, as always. You were sitting together on the couch, he with an arm resting on his back, and you huddled next to him, legs stretched out and heart beating happily. The day was quiet, yet there was something in the air, an imperceptible tension that you could not ignore. Cleo, who had decided to spend some time with you, couldn’t stop her sneaking glances at Pope, and even though you tried not to pay too much attention, you couldn’t help but notice him.

Cleo stood outside the living room, by the window, staring at the landscape as if she was lost in her thoughts, but you knew that wasn’t the reason for her attention. You could see in his eyes: there was something more, an unspoken wish, a hope that Pope might notice her in that special way that sometimes seemed reserved for you. But you knew, Pope was yours, and there was nothing Cleo could do to change that reality.

Your gaze met that of Pope, and he smiled softly. He was always so affectionate with you, and you knew there was nothing but love in his eyes. The situation with Cleo was starting to bother you, but you decided it was time to do something about it, to stop that constant gawking and to tell everyone, especially Cleo, that Pope was and would remain yours.

You approached Pope, feeling his steady breath as his gaze followed your every move. You looked into his eyes and, without saying a word, you began to touch his hair, sliding your fingers between the dark locks. A gentle gesture, but full of meaning. Pope closed his eyes, an imperceptible smile painted on his lips as he felt your touch.

"What are you doing?" asked Pope, his voice soft but with a hint of curiosity.

You didn’t answer immediately. You stood up slightly, tilting your head towards him, and without thinking too much you got closer. Your eyes found hers, and at that moment it seemed the world around you was stopping. Without a word, you kissed him. A full, intense kiss that told the passion you had inside for him. There was no fear, there was no uncertainty. Just the certainty that at that moment, you and Pope were together, and no one, not even Cleo, could change that truth.

Pope immediately returned the kiss, his hands finding your life, holding you gently as the passion grew among you. It was a kiss that spoke of love, complicity, and also a certain firmness in making you understand that there was no room for any other between the two of you. You didn’t care about Cleo, or her looks or her attempts to get Pope’s attention. At that moment, the only thing that mattered was him, and you knew he felt the same way.

You finally got off slightly, without stopping looking into his eyes. Pope smiled at you, and you could see in his eyes how much he loved you.

"You’re fantastic," he said, his voice full of affection

You didn’t need words, or statements, because you both knew what you had was special. And while Cleo stood quietly outside the window, probably feeling the tension between you, there was no doubt that Pope would never turn his heart to her.

You got closer to Pope, the hearts beating in unison. There was no more uncertainty, no thought to distract you. You looked into his eyes, and without saying a word, you slowly rose from the couch, hands still touching him gently, as if you wanted to feel every part of him.

Then, with a firm but gentle movement, you mounted him, your eyes fixed on his, looking for confirmations of a love that was no longer afraid to show itself. Pope raised a hand to touch your face, and smiled at you with that smile that made you feel safe, as if nothing could ever separate you.

"I love you," he whispered, his voice still warm from the emotion of the kiss you had shared before.

Without answering words, you approached him again, this time with a deeper, more intense kiss, which seemed to tell you more than any sentence. Your hands were running on his chest, and you felt his breath light up as his hands held your life, guiding you as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

Meanwhile, Cleo was still outside, standing by the window, but now she didn’t even seem a presence. You didn’t care about her anymore, how focused she was on Pope, because you knew that at the time, Pope was all for you. The passion between you grew, as if nothing could interrupt that moment that was only yours.

Each kiss seemed stronger, more complete, as if you wanted to tell yourself that no one else could ever enter your world. Your position above him allowed you to feel every vibration of his body, every response to your every movement, and each kiss that became deeper and deeper made you feel your strong bond.

You started rubbing your dick while he groaned in your kisses. Pope put his hands on your butt as he accompanied your movements.

"Baby" Pope whispered and you smiled satisfied as you felt the look of cleo burning your skin.

"Come on love show cleo how much you are in need for me and how much you are only mine" you whispered through the kisses while you still moved your butt on his cock and he groaned.

You just got up and shoved his shorts and boxer shorts and lifted your gumbo to get your thong off and put it in Pope’s mouth.

"Open your mouth my love" you said softly and he opened it and when he felt your underwear in his mouth and felt how wet it was, he groaned as you salivated on his cock.

When you sank both of you moaned and you lowered your head back for his cock in your pussy.

"Pope, your cock is so perfect for my pussy" you moaned as you started bouncing off his cock making him groan.

Pope was moaning loudly from how you were groveling him, but the sound was still maintained by your panties in his mouth.

Pope looked at you like a god while you were bouncing off his dick. You had your eyes half closed and your mouth open as you moaned loudly and bounced.

He put your hands on your butt to slap it and squeeze your buttocks while you were still moving on his cock.

You started kissing Pope’s neck and he closed his eyes because of the pleasure you were giving him.

Cleo was watching the scene angry, cursing you but you didn’t care, you were focused on Pope.

Pope started pushing him even harder by hitting your g-spot and you moaned as he came on his dick.

You moaned and took the thong out of his mouth, casually throwing it on the couch as you joined your lips to Pope’s.

You were both moaning in the kiss as your pussy squeezed his cock more and more.

"You’re fucking squeezing my dick" Pope shouted, head down on the couch.

You smiled as you put your hand on his neck, squeezing a poʻ while he looked at you with pure adoration, lust and love.

"Come on love make Cleo feel good I do feel good" you murmured as you bounced more on her dick and Pope moaned.

"Shit y/n don’t stop, nobody can give me the pleasure you’re giving me, I’m yours... only yours" he said moaning loudly and then spit inside of you.

You groaned and then passionately kissed him Pope held you close to him while he gave you a final pat on the ass.

When you broke off the kiss, you turned your head to see that Cleo had run away. You smiled and put your head on Pope’s shoulder.

"Finally" you mumbled while drawing on Pope’s chest while still having his dick buried in your pussy.

He chuckled softly and gave you a sweet kiss on the forehead by stroking your hair.

"I love you y/n never forget it"

[wildwestdean]

wish list

summary: dean shares his christmas wish with you

pairing: dean winchester x female reader

word count: 845

warnings: fluff, mutual pining, confessions, idiots in love

a/n: a short and sweet piece for day one of the Promt-Mas 2024 event in our lovely supernatural writers community; prompt 1 'all i want for christmas'

“What do you want for Christmas?” you asked, phone cradled to your ear. 

It was a simple question, one that had been asked many times before, yet it still made Dean stop in his tracks as he hesitated over his answer. 

“And don’t say pie,” you added playfully, pulling a chuckle from his lips. 

“Well, I can’t answer your question then, sweetheart,” he teased. 

“Oh, c’mon!” you groaned. “There has to be something you want.” 

Dean sighed, kicking his feet up on the table in the war room as he leaned back in his chair. He’s starting to feel like he never leaves this spot, sitting here like a sad puppy waiting for you to walk through the bunker door ever since you left two weeks ago, eager to help Jody and Donna work a case; a case that ended in the three of you taking a girls trip to some retreat in the mountains. 

He wanted you to come home. 

“Dean?” you called softly, pulling him from his thoughts when he took longer than usual to answer. 

“I don’t want anything,” he lied, shrugging his shoulders despite the fact you couldn’t see him. 

“Liar,” you laughed, easily picking up on his fib.

He couldn’t help but smile, the fuzzy feeling settling in his stomach once more at the realization of how well you know him. 

“What do you want?” he asked, hoping to flip the spotlight onto you. 

“Nuh-uh,” you tsked. “You’re not getting out of this so easily, Winchester.” 

“You’re a real pain in the ass, you know that?” he joked, voice laced with laughter. 

“I can be even worse!” you threatened with a laugh. “What if I guess? Will you tell me if I guess it?” 

“Sure, why not?” he agreed, mainly because he knew you’d never get it right. 

He listened with a grin as you rambled on, listing every possible thing that came to your mind for what he may want. Some were things that he himself didn’t even know he wanted, and while he did admit to them being good ideas, he remained adamant they weren’t his main wish; yet still refused to give an inch as to what that may be. 

“Would you stop being so stubborn?” you huffed in exasperation, knowing you should admit defeat but not wanting to; you were just as stubborn as him when it came down to it. 

“Why is it so important to you?” he asked with a laugh, finding your irritation over the situation rather endearing. 

“Because you’re important to me,” you told him. “I don’t want to get you just anything and call it a day. Yeah, I have some things for you already, but I want you to have something that’ll make you truly happy. Something special, y’know?” 

Dean fell silent after your explanation, your words bouncing around in his head as he tried to think of what to say, as he wondered how best to tell you. 

“Are you embarrassed to tell me or something? Because you should know by now that I’d never-” 

“Come home,” he said quietly, cutting off your speech. 

“Stop trying to change the subject,” you chuckled, not understanding what he was telling you. 

“No, I-” he started, taking a shaky breath. “That- that’s what I want.” 

“You… want me to come home?” you questioned, clearly confused. 

“I want you,” he admitted, his heart hammering against his ribcage so fiercely he wondered if you could hear it.

You fell so silent on the other end that he actually had to pull the phone away to make sure the call was still connected.

“Me?” you finally asked, voice barely above a whisper. 

“You,” he confirmed, chuckling nervously. “You’re what makes me happy, sweet girl. Hell, there was a point that I thought I’d never be truly happy again… and then one day, you showed up. There’s nothing that’ll be more special to me than you, sweetheart."

“So… what you’re saying is that I don’t need to spend money on you this year?” you asked playfully, trying to cover up your nerves with a joke. 

He let out a laugh, feeling some of his nerves starting to settle. “I’m saying all I want for Christmas is you.” 

“Only for Christmas, though, right?” you wondered, and Dean could just about hear the grin you wore. 

“Well,” Dean said contemplatively. “I was thinking I might keep you for, say… rest of our lives?” 

“Are you seriously confessing your love with a phone call?” you asked with a giggle, feeling giddy beyond belief. 

“No,” he said casually. “I’ll wait until you’re finally home to really say those words.” 

“Oh, okay,” you replied in understanding. “Well, guess it’s a good thing I’m home, then.”

Before he could respond, the bunker door screeched open as you finally stepped inside, and he quickly met your gaze as you grinned down at him from the railing. He matched your grin, standing from the chair as he ended the call. 

“Well,” you called down to him, laughing with glee. “Don’t you have a confession to make?” 

taglist: @roseblue373, @redmaro86, @snowayumi, @iluvdeanwinchester, @winharry, @star-yawnznn, @jc-winchester

if you'd like to be added or removed from this list, please let me know!

[gatorbites-imagines]

micheal meyers fic if you still write for him? 🎃

I rlly liked your other fics with him, not a big fan of him being characterized as overly affectionate so I rlly liked your kinktober fics about him

something in a similar vein to that? smut or no smut is chill, just him being infatuated in his own creepy way

Michael Myers x male reader

Headcanons

Im happy you like my stuff :3c ive never imagined he was overly affectionate either, it just didn’t feel like it fit his character very much, ya know? No hate to the people who write that, I just like imagining him as a creepy guy, standing there… menacingly…

I think the only way you two could have met where you made a lasting impression is if you were somehow at the same asylum as him. Be it as a doctor or a patient. But I’ve never read a fic where the reader was one of the doctors, so that’s what we’re gonna go with here.

Joining up at smith’s grove sanitarium hadn’t been your first choice, since it was known as a pretty run-down place, that treated their patients more as prisoners than people. It may have been a place for the worst of the worst, but they were still people in your eyes.

You get Michaels attention by somehow wrenching his care from Dr Loomis’s hands, using all kinds of laws and loopholes to rip it from him and then running for the door pretty much. To you, what Loomis did should get him placed in jail and his license removed, as it could only have made his patients states worse.

Building a relationship with Michael is what many would call impossible. But you believed that every person had something special that fueled them, and just being treated like a worthwhile human being always seemed to do the trick.

It took months, if not years for you to really worm your way into Michael’s heart, or whatever was left of it. He hadn’t really had many positive male people in his life, something you also blamed Dr Loomis for, but over time he grew closer to you, in his own way.

To others it may seem like Michael was the same as always, but at this point you’ve worked with him so long that you know him. You can feel his attention follow you, even when you are on the other side of the yard where the patients get sunlight.

It’s no shock that you are most patients’ favorite, especially after you become head of the hospital, after a very long and stressful battle with those stuck in their old ways. It made you start cleaning house, getting rid of bad caretakers and methods to replace them with better ones.

You took it extremely seriously, and would have any so called interviewers or investigators removed from the premises, to not mess with your patients’ care.

You gain a bit of a reputation in the media at how incredibly cruel you can be to the people who wish to use and abuse your patients. Some call you crazy for protecting them, especially as everyone knows Michael Myers resides there.

But to you, it doesn’t matter. You have no spouse, no children, you haven’t talked to your family since you left home at 18, all you truly have is your job, so that is what you use your energy on.

And if a lot of that time is spent with Michael, then so be it. Having Michael actually emote or pay attention to you, is a big step in the right direction in your book. You can never get him to talk, but he does succeed in learning a couple of signs, though you suspect he only does it because he knows it makes you happy.

Later you would look back on Michael’s escape as something you blamed on yourself. Over the long time you had been his caretaker, you always made sure to be there on Halloween, since it was such an important date for him.

He never told you this, obviously, but you could tell. It just happened that you had needed surgery around that time, something you couldn’t put off as much as you wanted. If you wanted to keep caring for your patients, then you needed it done.

So, it truly shouldn’t have been such a surprise for one of your nurses to call you in a panic that Michael had somehow gotten out. Being bedbound, there wasn’t much you could do but give orders from home and watch the tv.

You didn’t technically live in Haddonfield, but you lived close enough that you could bike to town for groceries if you needed to, but also so you could drive to work without much issue.

Seeing no reports of murders outside the usual made you sigh and slump in on yourself. You had put off taking your pain medication, wanting to be clearheaded and aware, just in case you needed to be. And what else kept one clear in the head but pain.

As bedridden as you were, there wasn’t much you could do when you heard your back door open. You only knew it was that door, as it had a loud squeaky hinge you never got fixed, as it wasn’t like you used that entrance much.

Seeing Michaels looming stature shouldn’t have been a shocker either. What did amaze you to a certain, professional extent, was that he hadn’t put on his usual coveralls or mask, instead it was one you two had made together using safe materials.

There was no verbal or physical reply when you spoke to him, outside of a slight rise of tension in his shoulders when he heard you grunt in pain, as you turned to look at him.

You didn’t want to call the hospital, knowing just how volatile Michael could be. And you may have replaced many doctors and nurses, but they still feared him, all but you at least. The only thing you truly could do was speak to him, to make him stay so he didn’t go kill anyone.

Maybe it was the years of care you had given him, but Michael at some point moved closer, just staring down at you and the bandages around your stomach.

You had a feeling he wanted to poke it or maybe just unwrap it, but you had worked with him about other people’s pain tolerance. Michael still only seemed to care when it was you, but you put a lot of stuff in his notes about your professional opinion and growth.

There were worse caretakers than Michael. In all reality he wasn’t really a caretaker. A lot of it was just him standing by the door, in the corner, or right at the foot of your bed to watch you. Hed shuffle after you wherever you went in the apartment, even carrying you when you couldn’t move too much.

you had decided to heal enough to bring him back to smith’s grove when you healed enough, already knowing how violent Michael could be with other people.

To Michael though, this meant more than you meant. He wasn’t one to feel lust or much romantic attraction, but he was drawn to you and attached enough to just stay, to even bring you your pill bottles and water, like how you would to him at smith’s grove.

You theorized it made him happy, in his own way, to know he was helping in the ways he knew how. Another more paranoid part of your brain did worry about what he did when you slept, since the pain medication had that effect.

Nothing ever looked out of place, but you did catch him kneeling beside your bed on more than one occasion, just holding your hand. Or the times hed place your hand on top of his head so you would caress him.

It was inappropriate for a doctor to do such a thing with his patients, but Michael seemed calmer and more at ease when it was just you two. He couldn’t cuddle in bed with you, and neither did he seem to want to, but being held and coddle in small amounts seemingly worked for him.

Michael clearly wasn’t pleased when you took him to return to smith’s grove, but he actually came along without issue. It caused a whole media storm, but over the years you had mastered those too. As long as it helped your patients, then you would do it, to a certain extent.

And if giving Michael weekends at your place where he got to stalk you around your own property was what he needed, then so be it. you saw it as progress, in his own, weird way. Hell, Michael even started sitting and having dinner with you instead of just hovering. To you that was a win, no matter what others said.

[sodavizz]

—(I can't think of a title)

W/C: Idk 1k+

Pairing: Daisuke x GN! Reader

Warnings: nune.

A/N: MY POOKIE GAVE ME A PROMPT SO I WROTE IT,, SAW @freakyydaisukee POST, LUCKY I WAS IN THE MIDDLE OF WRITING THIS LOL.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

Daisuke had always been one to find excitement in everything. Whether it was the smallest detail of a passing cloud or the newest trend everyone at school was trying to follow, he could always find something to be enthusiastic about. It was just who he was. And it was something that people admired about him—his unrelenting optimism, his constant enthusiasm for life.

But of all the things Daisuke had ever been excited about, there was one person who stood out from the rest.

You.

From the moment he first laid eyes on you in the hallway of their high school, he knew there was something special about you. You weren't like everyone else.. Daisuke admired everything about you. You were pretty smart, funny, made a few friends, and were pretty attractive too. It made Daisuke feel like he could conquer anything, just because he’d seen you smile.

As the years went by, Daisuke found himself drawn to you more and more. He would always try to sit near you in class, though he never had the courage to speak to you outside of group projects or class assignments. His friends always teased him about it, but he didn’t mind. They didn’t understand. His feelings for you weren’t something as simple as a crush—they were a quiet, constant thing that swelled within him each time he saw you.

He would watch you interact with your friends, and he’d wonder if you noticed him at all. Did you know how much he admired you? Did you ever catch his gaze from across the room? Did you ever wonder why he always had that excited smile on his face whenever you were around?

But Daisuke was terrified. High school was the time when everyone was either figuring out who they were or hiding who they were, and Daisuke knew that his feelings for you were something he couldn’t quite put into words. What if he confessed and ruined everything? What if you didn’t feel the same?

So he kept quiet. For years.

And every time he saw you leave school with your friends, he felt his heart sink, knowing that his chance might be slipping away.

--

Graduation came faster than Daisuke had expected. It was a bittersweet moment for him. Everyone was so excited about what came next, about the future that awaited them. He’d felt the same way, once, but now it just felt hollow. The future was full of uncertainty for Daisuke. Sure, he was going to follow in his parents' footsteps and become a mechanic—just like they wanted. But it wasn’t the future that excited him. The future that excited him was the one where he could finally tell you how he felt.

But that opportunity never came. Graduation was a blur of ceremonies, farewell parties, and promises to stay in touch. And you—well, you were already gone. You had plans. Your future seemed set. And Daisuke was left wondering if he would ever get the chance to confess his feelings to you, or if you would just fade into the background of his life like so many people did.

He didn’t know what happened to you after graduation. You disappeared into the vast world, as far as he was concerned. And as time passed, Daisuke told himself that he needed to move on. He needed to focus on his job, on making his parents proud. Maybe he wasn’t supposed to have a grand love story, after all.

--

Two years later, Daisuke found himself on the Tulpar—a spaceship that was about to embark on a long-term mission to ship whatever was in the boxes they couldn't touch or see. His parents looked for a while to find a job that he could do, and when the opportunity to work on a high-end spaceship as a mechanic opened up, they nudged him toward it. He wasn’t exactly thrilled, but he figured it was the right thing to do. It wasn’t the adventure he’d hoped for, but it was steady work. And steady work meant stability.

--

The day of the ship's space launch. He was accepted last minute as an intern but he could care less. He was pretty nervous though, the thought of being in the middle of space for a year is kinda scary for him.

He was just minding his own business before someone crept up to him.

"O-M-G!!," The person exclaimed.

Daisuke froze mid-sentence as he turned toward the voice. His heart skipped a beat.

Standing there, in her flight suit with a clipboard in hand, was you.

It took him a second to process. You. You were standing right in front of him. His mind spun with disbelief and excitement.

"Wait—what?" he blurted out, still in shock.

You raised an eyebrow at him, half-smiling, but there was something about it that felt more genuine, more knowing. "Surprised? Anyways, how have you been... uh... Daisuke correct? We went to the same high school together!" you say excitedly.

"You—you're... you're planning on working on the Tulpar too?" Daisuke asked, the words tumbling out.

You nodded, your eyes scanning the room before they landed back on him. "Yeah. I didn’t know you were here too."

Daisuke's excitement was barely contained. After all these years of admiring you from afar, here you were. In the flesh. On the same ship. And now he had a chance to talk to you—really talk to you.

“I—yeah, I’ve been here for a while.” Daisuke couldn’t stop smiling. “It’s... kind of crazy that we’re both here. You know? I always wondered what happened to you after graduation. I didn’t expect to see you again.”

You smiled softly at that. “I guess we both ended up on the same path, huh?”

He nodded, though his brain was still struggling to keep up. You—here, on the Tulpar, working alongside him. It felt like a dream.

“I never thought I’d be working on a spaceship,” you continued, leaning against the wall as you casually chatted. “I didn’t even think you would, either. But... here we are.”

For the first time in years, Daisuke allowed himself to feel the weight of his excitement. There was a universe of possibilities in front of him now. You were here, and maybe—just maybe—he could find a way to confess the feelings he’d kept hidden for so long.

--

“So... what do you think of the ship so far?” he asked, trying to regain his composure.

You laughed lightly. "It's impressive. But I'm sure you've seen much more than I have. You've been here longer."

“Yeah,” Daisuke said, a gleam in his eye. “But if you want, we could look around together. Maybe help you an I get more comfortable?”

You smiled again, this time in that quiet way that always made Daisuke’s heart race. “I’d like that.”

As the days passed, Daisuke found himself spending more and more time with you. He was thrilled to just be near you, but this time, he didn’t have to hide behind the walls he’d built in high school. He could be himself, and you were there to see it. Slowly, Daisuke began to open up, sharing stories, laughing together, and finding joy in the little moments. And all the while, his feelings for you grew stronger, more real.

Maybe, just maybe, the universe had led him to this moment for a reason.

--

One evening, after a long shift, Daisuke found you just sitting in the couch, the dim lights of the ship casting a soft glow on your face.

"Hey," he said softly, walking up to you. His heart pounded. He didn’t know if he’d ever have the courage to say it, but right now, in this quiet moment, he felt like he could.

“Hey, Daisuke.” You smiled up at him, looking tired but content.

"Look... I don't know how to say this, but I've wanted to say it for a long time. I—" His voice cracked slightly as he struggled to find the words.

You watched him intently, your expression calm, understanding. "What is it?"

"I think... I think I’ve liked you for a long time. Ever since high school," Daisuke blurted out, his face turning red as he stumbled over the words. "I don’t know why I never told you, but... I think I just... really like you."

For a moment, there was silence. Daisuke’s heart raced, waiting for your response, unsure of what would come next.

You stepped closer, your smile widening. “Hehe... I’ve always known,” you said softly with a cheeky grin, and Daisuke’s heart nearly stopped.

“I’m glad you’re here, Daisuke,” you continued, taking his hand in yours. “I’m glad we’re both here.”

And with that, in the endless stretch of space, surrounded by stars, Daisuke realized that sometimes, life’s most beautiful surprises came when you least expected them.

--

[atenea585]

I loveeee ur works, could u do 15 with Ben?

💕

Awww, I'm glad you like my works and I hope you continue reading them. Here goes what you asked for❤️

Prompts: “I could ruin you.” “You mean… In a kinky way or bad way?”

Pairing: Soldier Boy/ Ben x Female Reader

Tags/Warnings: Sexual tension, language.

Ben was not one to deny himself the different pleasures in life. He saw something, he wanted it. He wanted to feel good, then he would get it. The same thing happened with women.

Except with you.

No one knew what was wrong with you and him, but everyone noticed how he seemed to ignore you when it came to flirting. Maybe it was because you were too “young” to fit his tastes or that you were simply too insufferable for him to turn around to look at you.

The truth is that Ben saw an innocence in you that he didn’t want to ruin, an innocence that he wanted to maintain. But your attitude did not match that image he had of you.

When you got angry, Ben saw you as an adorable puppy. It wasn’t for anything specific, he just saw you like that. He had created this image of you and nothing and no one could take it away from him. Not even you.

That’s why he ignored your advances.

You wanted Ben, you really did. And it made you angry to think that he ignored you because you were just a little and innocent child to him. You weren’t innocent, at least not to a certain extent. You didn’t know why he saw you like that or why he insisted on not wanting to ruin it.

Damn, Ben, ruin me.

“I just don’t understand why you ignore me.”

“Believe me, darlin’, you’ll thank me later.”

You frowned and put your hands on your hips.

“You know something? Just tell me why.”

“Why what?”

“Why do you sleep with all the women in the world, but you reject me as if I had the plague?”

“I won’t talk about my reasons with a damn little girl.”

He turned to leave, but you held his arm. He turned to look at you, and it was obvious that he could easily push you away if he wanted to. But he just sighed and stared at you.

“So that’s it? Am I a just a little girl or too childish for you?”

“Doll…”

“I’m not a kid, Ben.”

He watched you carefully.

“What the fuck do you want from me?” He asked.

“You know what I want.”

In one swift movement, he broke free of your hold with ease and grabbed your arms, making you walk backwards until your back hit the wall, making you let out a surprised gasp.

“Don’t you fuckin’ see it? How can you be so fucking blind?” He said under his breath close to your face. “I could ruin you.”

His fingers digging into your arms firmly, but not painfully. A shiver ran down your spine, his breath on your face was like the air needed to breathe. You felt wetness between your legs. You smiled sideways.

Why couldn’t he understand that that was exactly what you wanted?

“You mean… In a kinky way or bad way?”

He stared at you for a few moments, perhaps thinking that you must be fucking joking or that you had gone crazy.

But at the same time that your innocence kept him away from you, your attitude was what attracted him back.

He looked down briefly at your lips and let go of you, taking a step back to keep his distance and his lust in line.

“You’re fucking insane.” He said under his breath, as if he were spitting venom with every word spoken.

“I am aware of it.” You whispered.

He snorted and shook his head, giving you one last look before turning around and leaving. But Ben couldn’t contain the smile that appeared on his lips as he walked away, his mind replaying the recent moment.

You stayed there, against the wall, your breathing and heartbeat still irregular. You smiled and closed your eyes, remembering his touch and savoring the moment

Please, Ben… Ruin me. You prayed up to this point.

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[beelinx]

pink cat ear headphones

synopsis: your minecraft dogs went missing, and tomura looks mighty suspicious. also, he’s wearing pink cat ear headphones… okay then! warnings: kinda all around the place, and perhaps ooc tomura 😖 use of baby as a pet name + suggestive ending 1.3k words

if anyone were to look into the scene going on right now, they’d probably laugh and say it’s clearly fake. surely, the fearsome leader of the league of villains, the tomura shigaraki, couldn’t be sitting with his legs crossed, scratching his neck and munching on some chips while he plays minecraft.

wearing cat ear headphones.

pink cat ear headphones.

this simply looked way too ridiculous to ever be true, and yet here it was.

to be clear, though, the headphones did not belong to him.

his high quality headset (which did not have cat ears) broke a while back, after a couple of months of its quality slowly decaying. and, since the league had been pretty tight on money, he’d not been able to replace it yet. so, he had to look for the next best thing.

that being your cute, pink spare headphones.

honestly, he was not embarrassed by the headset itself. it was actually pretty good, the sound quality being almost on par with his old headset’s. and it was really comfortable, too. it sat snuggly on his head and provided sufficient blocking of outside noise.

also, they were yours. 

therefore, he loved them.

when he first tried them on, he’d worried about what his comrades would think about him wearing said device. he’d imagined toga or magne might like them, which somehow pissed him off. spinner might like them too, since the quality is good. mr. compress would probably say something about a fashion statement or whatever. twice could laugh at him, but tomura figured he didn’t mind what he thought very much. then there was dabi, who’d definitely get a kick out of seeing him wear the headset.

whatever, he couldn’t care less about what they thought now. not since you thought he looked cute wearing them.

“babe?”

he hummed in reply, too focused on the game right now to form a proper response.

“d’you know where my dogs are? i can’t find them anywhere, and i didn’t make them stand.” you asked him with your usual sweet voice.

he didn’t reply. mostly because he did know where your dogs were. well, they weren’t exactly anywhere, if he was really going to get down to it, because they got blown up by a creeper.

he felt guilty about it, especially because it was his fault. kinda. well, it was a mistake. 

tomura was returning to the base to store all he gathered in the mines, when a creeper snuck up on him. it blew up, immediately ending the lives of your three cute dogs. at the time, he blamed his battered headset for not letting him hear the monster on time, and he’d managed to ignore the issue, since you hadn’t joined the world in a while. now, though, you decided you wanted to play with him.

he was kinda lucky though, since you insisted on finding new animals for your farm, still blissfully oblivious to what had happened to your pets. meanwhile, tomura was desperately trying to find new wolves to bring to the base. his current plan, once he’d successfully captured the animals, was to then distract you to do something else, or wait until you had to go to the bathroom, and tame them on your account. then, he’d use the dye and name tags he’d premade, to properly ensure you wouldn’t tell the difference between your original dogs and these new impostors.

it was going smoothly. 

until this.

he replied slowly, not wanting to bring suspicion unto himself, “...they aren’t at the base?”

“no, they’re not where i left them,” you pouted. he risked a look at you, your eyebrows furrowed as you desperately looked for the three creatures.

“i’m at the netherworld right now, i’ll help you look when i leave,” he replied, glad that his setup was out of view for you, so he could lie about this. then, before you could say anything else, he added, “maybe they despawned? they didn’t have any name tags on them.”

that was a reach, a really desperate one at that. he knew that, but he silently hoped that your minecraft knowledge was lacking and you wouldn’t realize.

“but they’re dogs? i tamed them, so they shouldn’t despawn,” he silently cursed himself for teaching you the game all those days back, “can creepers explode if something else triggers them? like beside the players?”

okay, admittedly, he considered lying to you again. the possibilities of his plan working tempting him incredibly. but, something was compelling him to tell you the truth. so, he did. in the sweetest, most loving way possible.

“i fucking blew them up.”

oh.

“…you what?”

“a creeper snuck up on me and blew them to pieces,” he rasped, “i was getting you new ones but since you’re so nosy.”

tomura rolled his eyes to finish off his statement. you merely stared at him in pure shock. why wouldn’t he tell you? losing your dogs made you sad, but you didn’t mind so much, since you knew it was an accident. also, no matter how indifferent he tries to seem, you know better. just the fact he was trying to replace your dogs without letting you know as to not to hurt your feelings tells you all you need to know:

tomura shigaraki cares for you, and he’s willing to do or say anything if it means ensuring your happiness.

his way of demonstrating this was a little… rough, but he couldn’t hide his true self from you, not when you know him so well.

“baby… i don’t mind the dogs, i know you didn’t mean to,” you assured him, “i just don’t understand why you wouldn’t tell me? you know i wouldn’t have gotten mad at you, especially since it was a mistake.”

he didn’t turn to look at you, his mind still glued to the screen, where he was still on the hunt for wild wolves, “i wanted to get them for you before you realized. that’s it.”

your face broke into a soft, lovesick smile at his words. sure, they didn’t sound that sweet on the exterior, but you knew tomura, and you knew videogames were his love language. him giving you a minecraft flower would basically be the equivalent of giving you an engagement ring. therefore, to you this felt like him playing you a boombox outside your window to apologize for a mistake. 

“awww,” you cooed at him, “that’s so cute, tomura! you really wanted me to not get upset, huh? you’re the sweetest ever!” you giggled as you jumped on his lap.

“yeah, whatever,” he hissed back, one hand scratching his neck while the other held you at your waist, the game now discarded, merely serving as background noise. he avoided eye contact with you, his eyes trained on his desk. still though, you swore you could make out a light, pink dusting on his cheeks.

“well actually… i think i deserve some sort of compensation for this,” you faked an exaggerated pout at him, “you know, for killing my poor, innocent dogs.”

tomura’s grip on your hip grew tighter, as he replied, his voice husky, “what kind of compensation?”

you giggled softly, and instead of replying, you grabbed his chin and connected both of your lips. he kissed you back eagerly, using his grip on your hips to bring you closer to him. his hands started to wander, but before he could get any ideas, you pulled away.

“that’s it, enough compensation,” you told him, grinning cheekily.

“are you serious?” he hissed back at you in reply.

“what?” you asked him, feigning innocence, “i’m still grieving my dogs, you know.”

he rolled his eyes, “you are so annoying.”

without another word, he picked you up and threw you on the bed, making sure to compensate you properly for the incident.

[gibsongirled]

HOME !!

description: you decided to visit schlatt in new york.

a/n: still kinda on hiatus, but i didn't want to leave yall hanging 😔 another fic's coming some time in december, trust 🙏

You hated rain in New York.

But you couldn’t complain too much when you were only visiting for a week. The rain had started when you landed. Intense splashes against the airport windows made you frown as the sky above darkened and thunder crackled in the distance, causing you to let out a sigh as you hailed for a taxi. You concluded after multiple visits to the city that the weather in New York was bipolar to say the least. Time Square was cool and the pizza was cool too. You had hoped to say the weather was cool like the rest of the things you listed off, but it was not.

Your shoes and jacket were wet by the time you clobbered up the stairs in his apartment building, your hair had managed to survive, but it was still damp in some places. One hand pulled your suitcase up on the stairs as you shook your umbrella, rain droplets coating the steps. Once in a while, you’d stick by the wall like a fly, letting people pass you by. Apartments in New York were the size of a shoebox and you shuddered to think about the rent - no way someone could afford to live here. People in the Big Apple either had family money or they sold crack on the streets, that’s what you remembered someone talking about it on some social media platform. You couldn’t keep up with the amount of sites that had popped up in the recent years. You only ever managed to circle through four apps and even then they were too much. (You logged out of Twitter each time you tweeted because what the fuck was that damn app on?)

You knocked on the door, letting your hand fall back down to your side as you waited a few seconds. Usually, your spur of the moment, impulsive ideas tend to backfire on you - like when you decided to surprise your family for Thanksgiving, only to find out that everyone was out of town and your key didn’t work - you had forgotten that the front door was replaced after your brother accidentally kicked it in. Your mother still tells that story to anyone who was willing to listen, and you just kept sliding down in your seat in a fit of embarrassment, hoping that God would make you disappear. You could hear some cursing and loud clattering on the other side of the door, causing you to a face as you questioned what was going on in there.

The doorknob rattled and the door swung open, making Schlatt blink in confusion as he looked at you like you’ve grown multiple heads in the span of a five hour flight from LA to New York. He said your name and you nodded, he blinked and said it again - to which you nodded again. His confusion was justified as you were supposed to be in LA and not in New York. And definitely not in front of his apartment looking like a soaked cat.

“So, you gonna let me in?” You started, running a hand through your damp hair. “The rain outside is terrible, I don’t even know how you-” Your almost rant was cut off by Schlatt closing the door in your face. Uhm okay then, wow. You were going to be offended, but he opened the door once again, having the realization that you standing in front of his apartment wasn’t a figment of his imagination. He should probably get more sleep.

“Sorry,” Schlatt sheepishly mumbled, rubbing his eyes with the palm of his hand, looking tired. Jambo and Soup meowed loudly behind him, making you laugh while he grumbled. “You’re supposed to be in LA,” he said once he ushered you into the apartment, dragging your suitcase along the floor, making the cats jump around as they sniffed and pawed at the suitcase, trying to figure out what it was.

“I finished the thing early,” you closed the door with a small click, “thought I’d surprise you.”

Schlatt let out a laugh, “Yeah, you definitely surprised me. Coulda sworn I was hallucinatin’ for a sec there.”

“I missed you,” you told him as the two of you stood together in the living room, the city outside now dark with lights turning on.

He pressed a kiss to your forehead, mumbling. “I missed you too.”

[darlingdreadwrites]

Still and Breathless

pairing: Ticci Toby x Final Girl!Reader

part: 1, 2

summary: Having escaped from Toby the first time, you decide to go back to the woods. You know this is a stupid decision, but something has pulled you back. Toby is more than ecstatic, and equally confused. He gave you a chance to leave, to keep your life. He thinks one more chase would keep you safely away, but your body thinks otherwise.

contains: getting chased by toby (again), slight pov switches, flashback, kissing

warning: logic has gone out the window

word count: 2.6k

masterlist

a.n: naming part 2 something else because ticci toby x final girl!reader part 2 looks ugly LOL im finally done with part 2, sorry for the wait. im making it up with a kiss! this took so long im so sorry.

The ride back to the woods was deafeningly silent, apart from the engine’s low hum. You were punishing yourself with it, or maybe allowing the silence to give you a chance to change your mind. You let out another shaky breath as you kept your eyes on the road. You shift and the leather seat creaks, remind you that this isn’t a dream – you’re doing this. Yor grip on the steering wheel tightens more than it should. Your nails dig into the soft groves, knuckles white from the force. Your gaze flickers to the rearview mirror for the millionth time and, yes, it’s still there. The hatchet – his hatchet – is resting on the backseat. The sunlight causes the spots where it’s not caked in mud and aged blood to glint at you. It’s as if it’s winking, mockingly remind you that what you were doing was completely, undeniable fucking insane.

Who drives around with their almost-killer’s weapon?

But you were even worse, it seems.

You were driving with it to him. What was your plan? To give it back to him? You tried to tell yourself it was for revenge – to finish what you should’ve done that night. But who were you kidding? A disgusting part of you you didn’t understand yet wanted to see him.

“This is crazy,” you mutter, shaking your head – and the memories – away. The woods, the blood, the house, the bathroom, his eyes – wide, crazy, and… adoring. You were sure that’s what it was – adoration. You’ve had a lot of time to think about it. You’ve never been looked at like that before. It was clear you were still prey to him, but in the way that he’d kill you and devour you with reverence. Your jaw tightens.

The woods around you grow denser, your apprehension mixing with a strange thrill. You shouldn’t have gone to a party so close to the woods at night. They’ve always freaked you out, so why did you? It must’ve been the same impulse that pulled you to mechanically walk deeper into the swallowing edge of the forest. You should’ve called the cops when you escaped out of that house.

Your heavy, erratic breaths made your head feel lighter than it should. It hurt to breathe at that point, the weight of the hatchet made your arm ache. Your hand shook as fingers wrapped around the splintered wood, but you gripped the weapon. Your attacker was sprawled out in the tub, eyes half-lidded and dazed. You managed to hold the hatchet with both hands, then.

“If you move,” you managed, your voice a trembling murmur, “I will chop your dick off.”

The threat felt ridiculous as it fell out of your mouth, but you meant it. God, you meant it.

He didn’t react, he just kept watching you. You didn’t know why, and it pissed you off greatly. He had the energy and time to chase you and hurt you, but he couldn’t even give you this one thing? He whispered something, but you couldn’t make it over the pounding in your ears. Anger bubbled in your chest, and you had the courage to speak up again.

“Did you hear me?” you snapped, raising the hatchet.

This time, he slowly nodded before a tic caused his neck to twist. He let his head fall back against the tub, still watching you. You stumbled back with shaky legs, determined to get out before he changed his mind. You mumbled an “okay” as your back hit the doorframe. Readjusting your way, you started to run.

The gravel crunches under your wheels as you roll to a stop, the sound fading into the quiet of the forest around you. You turn off the engine and let your hands linger on the steering wheel, staring straight ahead. There was one other car here, an old blue sedan with tinted windows. You look in the rearview mirror again before twisting in your seat to face it head-on. You didn’t want to touch it, but your hand moved anyway, getting hold of the hatchet’s neck. It was a familiar surface now, the feeling of worn wood. It shouldn’t have been. A voice in your head whispers, urging you to think again and head back home. But you were tired of constantly thinking about that night – you wanted to end whatever had started.

The woods seemed to have known you would be back, it was quiet, dense, and dark. The trees stretched endlessly in all directions. You had been walking for a few minutes, the crunch of leaves eliciting a memory in you. You paused for no particular reason other than to take in the cool air. Your beaths were shallow, a pulse hammering in your ears as you just stand there. The hatchet hangs limply at your side, and you begin to regret everything. I’m not being brave, you told yourself, I’m being stupid.

Something sharp snaps behind you – a twig. You freeze, making your grip firm on the hatchet. Your head turns slowly, heart racing as your eyes scan the trees for any sign of –

Him. You see him.

He was standing just a few feet away, just past where the light faded into shadow – just off the path. You would have missed him if it wasn’t for the way his shoulder twitches. The sight was jarring, he was so out of place and yet perfectly at home among the trees. He doesn’t move, he just watches you. Instead of the mask he had worn that night, his mouth was now covered by a black bandanna. The narrow stream of sunlight caught on the orange lenses of his goggles, perched atop of his curly brown hair. His hands were loosely at his sides, but you could just make out the twitch of his fingers – a subtle, restless energy that matched the slight tilting of his head as he looks at you.

Your heart pounds, every muscle in your body screaming at you to run away as fast as you can. But you can’t – not yet.

Not yet?

As if it were possible, the forest grew quieter around you.

Toby didn’t think in all his life that he would ever see you again. He had replayed the last encounter so many times in his mind that it felt like a fever dream. There was no way he let you escape – to let you live and risk revealing his actions to the world. But here you were, standing there like something out of a story he didn’t deserve to read twice. His breath hitches, eyes shutting tightly involuntarily. You weren’t supposed to be here. But you were, and it didn’t matter why – here you were. And, yup, he was still obsessed with you.

You really are something, aren’t you?

He moves slowly toward you, stepping out of the shadows as if he were approaching a skittish animal. This whole thing was surreal. Even the soft crunching of the ground beneath his boots sound fake. His limbs buzz with a nervous energy, and he clenches and unclenches his fists. He needed to steady himself; he can’t take this moment for granted – if it was real. As his eyes dart down and around you, drinking you in again. You stood there with the same defiance he had missed, your fingers tightened around his hatchet. You held it like it was yours. You certainly earned it.

You came back, he thought to himself. After everything I did to you. You came back. To me.

Every inch of him twitches with a need to reach out and touch you – to make sure this was real. He stops just a few paces away, waiting for you to do something first.

You felt as if you had stopped breathing the second he stopped in front of you. You didn’t know what he was feeling behind the bandanna, so you wouldn’t let him find out any of the emotions that swirled around your head. Your eyes glance down at the hatchet on his hip, making you tighten your grip on yours. He whistles, but you are used to his tics by this point. You didn’t know if he would hurt you, he wasn’t making whatever he could–would–do clear. You were just glad to have a weapon this time.

Your heart pounds in your chest, and you swear he could hear it. You think back to that night, his unpredictability. He’d slow down, waiting for you to do something, before exploding into violence with no remorse. But he stopped in that bathroom. You were so sure that you were going to die that night. He easily could have.

What the hell is wrong with you?

If you made it out again, maybe you would have the answer.

He moves closer, and your pulse quickens. This isn’t one of the dreams you have had recently, you are in the same woods. You drove here and looked for him. What did you want from him?

Your eyes meet his again, and something inside of you snaps.

You don’t wait for him to make the first move. Your legs start all on their own, darting in a random direction in the woods. The same adrenaline that drove you that night was surging through you now. Branches whip at your arms and legs, your heartbeat in your ears. You don’t look back. You knew he was coming.

The wind sung in your ears with every wide step you took. Twigs snap, leaves crunch, and it was considerably harder to do this while holding a hatchet. You still don’t know why you decided to run, it’s not like you were heading to the safety of your car. It was just thrilling; you got a strange high from it. The distant thump and rhythm of his pursuit pushes you on because you’d be pretty pissed at yourself if you let him win this time. Imagine surviving the attack of a serial killer, only to come back to him willingly and lose. That would be devastatingly embarrassing.

“Y-you’re slow tod-today,” he taunts from behind you, cutting through the silent concentration.

You didn’t answer. Your lungs burn, and you weren’t sure if anything that came out would be coherent. You dare to glance over your shoulder, seeing him closer than before. You refuse to let that scare you, though. You beat him once before.

He was playing with you.

You hear a laugh echoing between the trees behind you. He’s going to try and pop out beside you, you realize. You prepare, holding the hatchet closer to you as you duck under a low branch. Just as you thought – there he was.

“Tired?” he sang, coming from somewhere to your left.

But you were already veering to the right instinctively. The unrelenting aggression from when you first met wasn’t there anymore. You could tell by the way he kept laughing and taunting you. He wasn’t trying to catch you – not really. This was just a game to him, just how you thought it was when you “won” last time. The rush you got from “winning” against a serial killer – you want that again.

The forest floor gave away and your view of the world tilts – fast. You both hit the floor with a thud, your bodies a tangling mess of limbs. The air was forced out of your lungs in a sharp gasp, but you move quickly.

Toby scrambles under you for a second, but you’re faster. You press your knee into his chest, pinning him down and wrestling the hatchet into position. Gripping the handle with both hands, you press it sideways against his neck. You knew he had an uncanny way of not feeling pain, but you were sure he could feel his breathing constricted.

You shift your knee, digging it into the dirt beside him. You lean over him, just enough to hear the slight hitch of his breath behind the bandanna. For another moment, neither of you move. The forest fell into silence again. His goggles were one movement from sliding off of the disheveled mess of his hair. Wild eyes flick up to meet yours, and you silently dare him to try anything.

Toby’s body betrays him almost immediately. They start small – his tics make him shut his eyes tight, his shoulder twitching against the ground. Each movement was maddening and uncontrollable, and he hates how vulnerable the tics make him look – how vulnerable he feels under you.

The sharp, rapid jerking of his head causes the bandanna tied around his face to loosen. He can feel the knot undoing itself, the fabric sliding upward and partially covering his eyes. He let out a low, frustrated growl. He tries moving his chin downward, trying to shake it back into place, but it was too late. With another involuntary neck twitch to the left, he stiffens at the realization - that side of his face was now visible. And he could only make out part of your forehead, obscuring any reaction you could’ve had right now.

His lips twitch into a grimace, the scarred corner pulling awkwardly. A cold sense of dread forms a tightening knot in his stomach as the silence drags on. He knows you’re looking at it – you’re eating up every detail, probably disgusted.

Don’t look at it, he pleads, don’t stare.

The old wound throbs faintly, not from any type of pain… but from a distant memory he could never seem to grasp. His jaw clenches and his grip on the hatchet tightens, fingers brushing against yours. He can feel you trembling from the remaining adrenaline in your body. He hates how much he wants you to look away and how much he doesn’t. It was a maddening thrill to be so close to you, but he was sure he would never see you again after this.

The sounds of your breathing silenced all the sounds of the world around both of you. The tension between you was unbearably suffocating – as if it was you with the wooden handle pressed against your neck. Something, you didn’t know what, was threatening to snap. You didn’t know what you were thinking – if you were thinking.

You lean down, your lips crashing against his in a kiss that was as brief as it was forceful. It was like a car crash – a collision charged with adrenaline and defiance. You were taking and claiming your victory, proving once again that you could overpower him. There was a weakness in him, and you were proud to hold that title.

Your heart beats violently in your chest as you pull back. You can’t make out the emotions in his eyes, but by the way his lips part makes it clear – he’s just as shocked as you were, if not more.

This time, you were sure some kind of demon was possessing you. The kiss was slower this time, a curiosity driving you now. His lips are chapped, but not entirely unpleasant. You can feel the vibration of his grunt as the handle of the hatchet stays pressed to his neck. This isn’t enough, you think. It wasn’t enough to satiate the myriads of confusing emotions thrashing inside of you. But just as you let your lips part – just as the tip of your tongue touches his – you snap back into attention.

You sit up, still on his stomach and keeping him in place with his hatchet. It all seems to come back rushing at once – the wind in the trees, the chirping of birds. Your face burns as you stare down at him. He doesn’t say a word - you were getting tired of this.

Then, slowly, his lips curled into a crooked grin. The bandanna is still bunched up awkwardly over his eyes. He swipes his tongue over his bottom lip, as if not wanting to taste anything left of the kiss. You don’t know what any of this means – what twisted bond you just solidified. All you knew was that the air felt heavier than anything you’d ever experienced before.

[simplepotatofarmer]

spousal privilege

or

a very short thing i wrote for the christmas event hosted by @alterdnbweek based on the idea of c!techno and c!dream pretending they're married in prison!

“What if Qu—what if he does come back?” asked Dream.

It was probably the dozenth time he had asked some variation of that question, always with a tone that was forcefully light and always while looking at Techno with an expression of barely restrained fear. Techno hummed to himself as he carefully turned the potatoes over. They were lined up as close to the lava as possible without catching fire to cook as best as he could. Anything was better than the raw potatoes that Dream insisted were fine despite the fact they clearly were a struggle for him to eat. Thinking about it made Techno rub his own jaw.

“I mean, it’s been a long time and he hasn’t shown up yet, man. I think we’re safe.”

At the word ‘safe’, Dream shivered and Techno frowned. The bruises had faded by now and most of the injuries had healed but it was clear just by looking at him why Dream didn’t believe it.

“Yeah, but… If he does come back, it’s—He’s got leverage, right? You’re here. He could, like. I don’t know. He could torture you so I talk.”

That thought hadn’t crossed Techno’s mind before and now that Dream had said it out loud, he couldn’t shake the feeling that it was a very obvious reason to have lured him into the same cell. He was kicking himself for not realizing that sooner but it had been so hard to wrap his head around the fact that even someone like Quackity could stoop to torture. He cleared his throat.

“Well, the simple solution to that, Dream, is you don’t talk,” he said as gently as possible.

Without a moment of hesitation, Dream rolled his eyes and said, “I would, though.”

Techno shook his head with a laugh, the smile on his face fond.

“Yeah, that’s fair. That’s fair. I’d probably talk, too.” He reached out and touched one of the potatoes, testing to see if it had softened enough yet. “Alright, look. I’ve got an idea.”

One of Dream’s eyebrows lifted. The skepticism was clear.

“What?”

“We get married,” said Techno.

“WHAT?”

Dream stared at him and it took Techno a lot of effort not to start laughing.

“No, no, I’m serious, Dream.” He really needed to keep a straight face because he wasn’t lying and Dream’s face was only getting more and more exasperated. “Listen, it’s a law, yeah? Spousal privilege. If you’re married, you legally can’t be forced to reveal anything about your spouse.”

“That’s—” Dream stopped and frowned. His brow was furrowed in thought, eyes squinting. “Yeah, okay, but he’s—he’s not going to listen to the law, Techno. He tortured me! That’s illegal!”

“Is it?”

That made Dream pause. He tilted his head up, the gears turning, and Techno turned back to the potatoes. They weren’t perfect but they were a whole heck of a lot better than they had been and his stomach was growling. If he was hungry, Dream had to be starving. He carefully pushed one in front of Dream.

“I-I don’t know,” Dream finally said and poked the potato with one finger. “I still don’t get how being married will help.”

Techno ignored the heat from the potato and carefully broke it in half. It was softer though not fully cooked. He didn’t think he could get them fully cooked without burning them, not without any sort of cooking utensil.

“Because then we’ll just tell him that legally he can’t make us say anything. He’d be breakin’ the law and even if he doesn’t care about that, I’m a law abidin’ citizen so clearly I can’t talk,” he said.

A laugh escaped Dream and he grinned.

“Since when?”

“Since always, Dream. I can’t believe you’d imply otherwise.” He scooted across the obsidian floor until he was next to Dream then grabbed his potato and broke it in half as well. He held out one piece to Dream. “I’m tellin’ you, it’s a fool proof plan.”

Looking from Techno to the potato and back, Dream sighed. He took the potato and took a small bite, chewing slowly.

“So, what? We just lie and say we’re married?”

Techno sighed, relieved. It had been a challenge to get Dream to eat. He took a bite of his own potato and leaned against Dream’s shoulder. The other man pushed into him, mouth curling up into a grin. His hair was long enough now that it brushed against Techno’s arm.

“Exactly, man. Exactly.”

Dream rolled his eyes again but he was smiling and he took another bite of his potato as his free hand tapped absent-mindedly on Techno’s leg.

“Well. I still think it’s stupid,” he said around a mouthful of potato. “But it’d really piss Sam and him off.”

For a moment, Techno watched Dream’s fingers tapping gently against his thigh. There was a strange fluttering in his chest.

“Oh, I see how it is. You’re only marryin’ me as an act of rebellion.”

Glancing at Techno from the corner of his eye, Dream shrugged. He took one last bite of the potato before setting it down and it wasn’t until he had swallowed that he spoke.

“Don’t—Don’t be stupid. I’m technically not even marrying you.”

Dream started to pull his hand away, a faint blush on his face as if he had just now noticed what he was doing, and Techno stopped him, wrapping his hand up in his own. Briefly, Dream tensed and then wiggled his remaining fingers between Techno’s. Techno smiled.

“Oh, of course, of course. Still, we oughta make it look convincin’,” he said, squeezing Dream’s hand. “Y’know, just in case.”

Laughing quietly, Dream relaxed against Techno’s side.

“Right. Just in case.”

[torturedlexdepartment]

Sorry

Rafe Cameron x reader

Author's note: again, I apologize 💀

Warnings: ANGST, breaking up

Summary: after a year of trying to force feelings, you decide to finally break it off with Rafe

I stared down at my phone as I sat at the foot of my bed. Seven missed calls and an unfeasible amount of text messages from Rafe. I knew it was a bad idea to have the “this isn’t working anymore” conversation through text, but I was a coward. I didn’t want to have to look him in the face and explain myself. And now that he was blowing me up, I just wanted to run and hide.

I was just about to shut my phone off when I heard the sound of a truck pulling up outside. My worst damn nightmare. I should have figured Rafe would show up at my house the second I started ignoring him. I had known the man my entire life, how did I not think of this? I watched him out my window as he climbed up my steps and pounded on my front door. My car was outside so there was no denying that I was home. I sighed deeply before meeting him at my door.

“What the fuck Y/N? You can’t send that text then ghost me.” He pushed past me and I closed the door. I stayed turned away from him, not wanting to see his eyes beaming on me but I could still feel them. “Are you going to explain to me what you meant?” Tears started to well in my eyes and he spun me around to face him. His whole demeanor softened and he brought his hands up to rest on my cheeks.

“I just don’t think we should be together anymore.”

“Why?” I could tell he was trying to stay calm and collected and it just made this whole situation more impossible for me to bare..

“I just think we are better as friends.” He huffed as he stared down at me.

“All of a sudden? Out of nowhere Y/N?” What he didn’t realize is that these feelings of mine were not all of a sudden. I had always kind of felt this way. We have been friends for years and when he confessed his feelings for me, I thought I owed this a real shot. I thought I could fall for him and lord knows I tried. But how could I love him when I couldn’t love myself?

“I’ve always felt this way, Rafe.” He took a step back from me. I knew my words stung.

“Y/N, we’ve been together for over a year.” I closed my eyes, not wanting to let the tears start trailing down my face.

“I know and I’m sorry, okay. I tried.”

“You tried? What does that even mean? You could have said something after a month or two Y/N.” He started pacing around my living room with his hands up in the air, sometimes running them through his hair. I hated that I was making him feel this way. I could feel his fear and anxiety and it made me feel one hundred times worse.

“I tried to give us a real shot. I’m so sorry, okay.” He barely let me finish before he questioned me.

“You don’t love me?” I felt frozen in place. I didn’t want to lie but there was no way to answer this question without hurting us both more.

“I care about you and you mean the world to me, Rafe.” I tried to walk up to him, to comfort him. I reached for him but he pushed my hands away.

“Answer the question Y/N, because you know I love you more than fucking anything.” I took a deep breath. I didn’t want this conversation to have to go down this path but it was the only way he was going to get it.

“Rafe, you don’t even know me.” He stopped pacing and snapped his head to look right at me. He looked at me like I was a crazy person and I’d be lying if I tried to say I didn’t start feeling like one.

“I’ve known you since we were kids so how exactly does that make sense?”

“You know what I want you to know.” I was running out of ways to try and explain myself. I wished he could have just accepted what I wanted and left me alone.

“What does that even mean Y/N?”

“You know the parts that I’ve allowed you to see, gotten as close as I’ve allowed you to. You don’t know everything okay. I’ve barely allowed you to scratch the surface. And if we keep going with this, I’m going to let you dig deeper and then you’ll see the real me, and I can’t let it happen.” I finally allowed myself to be vulnerable with someone and I hated the feeling.

“Y/N, you’re crazy if you think that after all this time that anything you say is going to scare me off. I already see you regardless of what lies you’re trying to tell yourself.” I was getting unbelievably frustrated. He wasn’t going to stop.

“Look, you deserve someone that doesn’t have to question how they feel, someone who knows what they want.” I didn’t realize that he was walking over to me until I stopped talking and looked up. He leaned down to kiss me and I pushed him away angrily. “Don’t do that!” He was trying to convince me and I refused to let him change my mind. It didn’t matter how much I cared about him or how much I wished this could work.

“Y/N will you just stop?” He pleaded.

“I don’t love you, Rafe. Not the same way. And I don’t think I ever can.” As I said the words, I could literally see the light leave his eyes. He looked down at the floor and held his tongue. He was fighting back tears that he didn’t want me to see. We both stood there silently for a few moments before he walked past me, right out the door. I found myself aching to say something, but there was nothing left to say.

I walked over to my window and watched him speed off out of my driveway and out of my life. The only relief I had was knowing that he was now free for someone else to love. And one day I’ll stop wishing that it could have been me.