#i want fluff without actors lol

[watchinglikeafangirl]

The way I wanted to read the thoughts of other people and see some gifs I like, every post is someone freaking out about the fact the NC scene is improvised...

[phyrestartr]

PR Stunt (Only, Right?) | Sukuna/M!Reader

W/C: 6.9K (oh god lol) #NSFW, fingering, implied fucking, bottom!reader, top!sukuna, angst, fluff, smut, happy ending, Sukuna owns a body shop, reader is an actor, kinda meet cute, ABO dynamics, mpreg, yes there are always babies involved because i love dad sukuna, surprise baby, sukuna is a dickhead (what else is new), Gojo is an actor, Getou is a manager/agent, Toji is a stunt coordinator, Jin is a teacher tags: @kamote-kuneho @better-imagination-9 @flowersatwork @watyousayin 

“Did you sleep with (L. Name) (F. Name)?” 

The question caught Sukuna off guard; normally, Uraume didn't inquire into his personal life in regards to who he had and hadn't slept with. They were a friend, yes, but moreover they were the bookkeeper and helped with securing clients and arranging meetings–celebrities and their managers were fucks that Sukuna didn't like negotiating with. Best to leave the yapping to someone with a cooler head.

“Where the hell did that come from?” Sukuna asked as he rolled out from under the newest commissioned vehicle. 

Uraume walked to him, iPad in hand, and turned it to him, stone cold. 

Sukuna sat up straighter and squinted at the screen, annoyed. You’d probably just made up some salacious rumour and spread it throughout your friend circles; or worse, you wanted revenge on him for something he probably definitely did. In that case, Sukuna could somewhat understand. But still–

(Name) putting on weight? What’s happening to the former bombshell babe of Japan?!

Pregnant with a baby boy?! The secret's out!

(Name) returns to the stage after giving birth to a baby boy–but who is the father?

(Name) driving a Ryoumen Sukuna rescue vehicle?! Could he be the deadbeat dad we've been looking for?

Sukuna sucked his teeth after skimming over the article titles presented to him. 

“...No proof.” 

“Ah. Then please explain this,” Uraume requested, still polite as ever, as they flicked to an additional few images the scumbag paparazzi had caught of you. 

One was the car mentioned. Sukuna remembered it like it was yesterday–the joy of restoring a Porsche 911 back into its former glory was unmatched. You happily paid for all the parts and too often swung by to see the progress being made on the old thing. Obviously, Sukuna was more than happy to oblige. 

The next was of you holding a little nugget of a baby against your chest as you walked down a street in Shibuya. Nothing too damning, nothing too inspirational. 

But the last one–

“The fuck?” Sukuna mumbled as he snatched the iPad from Uraume’s hands and zoomed in on the now-toddler sitting with you in that damn Porsche, grinning brightly beside his mum while you ruffled his hair. His very, very pink hair. 

Sukuna took a breath while he thought. He didn't have to think too hard, though, not when he still dreamed about you and the short-lived fling between the two of you. 

“A Porsche 911, huh?” Sukuna grinned as he looked over the rusted beater of a car. He could still see scraps of its former glory, of the beautiful thing she used to be. Heaven knows she would've become an irreparable hunk of junk if you hadn't bought it from a scrapyard. 

“Yep.” You beamed. “So you think you can make her pretty again?” 

“You kidding? I'd pay you to let me fix this thing, baby.” Sukuna caught sight of your security stepping forward, but you waved them off without a second thought. 

Sukuna smirked. “But it’s not gonna be cheap.” 

You nodded. “Well, do what you have to. I'll pay whatever you need, handsome.” 

“Yeah?” Sukuna asked, looking your neatly-manicured appearance up and down; you were dressed like you were meeting someone of great importance (and you were, obviously), with your hair groomed perfectly, outfit fit for a premiere, skin flawless. 

“Mhm. And I tip well.” you looked him up and down in kind, grinning as you bit at the nub of your sunglasses.

“Done.” 

Every time you came to check on his progress, genuine excitement flooding in your motormouthed words, you'd go home with him and fuck him silly. 

And now, you were the momma to his baby. Allegedly. 

“I–so what the fuck does this have to do with anything?” Sukuna ran a frustrated hand through his hair after Uraume took the tablet back. “Bitch isn't asking for anything, he's not asking me to be his public fucking baby daddy, not asking me to pay for nothing?” 

“No,” Uraume conceded, “But he and his PR managers have reached out concerning this.” 

The man groaned and stood. “Fucking hell. Can't stand fucking PR teams. The fuck did they want?” 

“They want to make a statement about Touma's father.” 

Sukuna froze.

“Touma's a good name for a boy, right?” 

You asked the question so suddenly, so out of nowhere in the quiet of the afterglow. The city lights sparkled and winked at you both through the towering windows keeping you safe from the outside world. In hindsight, Sukuna would wonder if the city was excited for him. For you. 

“What, for a mutt?” Sukuna drawled, puffing on a blunt while he played with your hair and drowned in the tingles left in the wake of fingers drawing circles on his bare chest. 

“For a kid,” you chastised with a laugh. “I like Touma. Or Touka for a girl. Ayato's nice, too. Maybe Kazue.” 

“You better not be pregnant.”

“I'm not, I'm not. I'm just getting baby fever, I guess.” You hummed and left a sweet kiss against his tan skin. “I guess being around a big, bad boy like you's got me feeling domestic.” 

Sukuna laughed, dazed and happy. “You wanna ruin this pretty lil’ body for a fucking kid? Be my guest. Just don't come looking for a booty call after you've ruined yourself like that.” 

“Oh, don't worry,” you cooed. “I won't.” 

Man. Man. 

“A statement.” 

“In other words–”

“I'm not the fucking father.” 

“This might be a good way to get Yorozu off your case,” Uraume suggested, and Sukuna perked up. 

“Right. She fuckin’ hates kids.” 

“So, if you were to have a son, and it's revealed you've been quietly trying to make things work behind the scenes with (Name), then hypothetically–”

“I'll take the runt.”

Truth is out–Ryoumen Sukuna is the father, (Name) tells fans on social media!

Sukuna hated seeing that shit. The circus celebrities had to dance through used to be funny until he somehow got swept up into it. Until he suddenly had a baby boy that looked so much like him and so much like you. 

He spent too much time on your socials, scrolling through promotion posts and photos of you at red carpet events and premieres–and then he remembered you had a private account. One that you said he could follow. One that he never followed.

Sukuna rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling as he sulked in bed. Was he really about to sacrifice his pride for this? Was he seriously gonna request to follow your personal account just moments after articles dropped and tweets were sent about him being the baby daddy? Could his pride take it? 

Fuck me. This shit is highschool. 

He requested to follow, and not even a minute later, you approved it. 

That had him interested. Did you want him to follow? Did you want him to be part of his little guy's life? Were you feeling a rush of anxiety and excitement like he was right now? 

“Get over it, you fucking idiot,” he mumbled to himself before scrolling through your photos. 

There was so much more here. So many photos of you pregnant, of Touma when he was so ridiculously itty bitty, of when you were recovering in the hospital, looking worn out and exhausted, but still beaming as you held your little boy. 

There were photos of his first birthday and the cute…rustic cake you'd apparently made yourself. Your agent, Getou, was there, as was one of your fellow agency mates, Gojo, along with some other folks Sukuna did and didn't recognize. 

Of course, his boy–your boy lit up the centre, eyes glittering with the reflection of sparklers and the warmth of a good, safe home. He was happy. The boy–his boy–your boy was happy. 

Then he called you. He couldn't help it, not anymore.

Sukuna paced around his penthouse, sipping on his spiked coffee and trying to desperately control his…nerves? Alpha instincts? Excitement? Fuck, he didn't know. But he was full of whatever it was, and it drove him nuts.

“Hi!” You answered as you picked up, so full of life as usual. “Been a while. How're you? What's up?” 

Sukuna felt so, so old suddenly. Why were you so awake in the morning? 

“Think you can spare some of that pep in your step for me?” Sukuna asked. He smiled when he heard you laugh on the other line. “Dunno how the hell you're so awake in the morning.”

“Well, I don't party or work on cars until the crack of dawn,” you purred back, so sweet and teasing. Sukuna almost got hard. Ugh. Ugh. What the fuck was wrong with him? 

“Hah? What, you sayin’ I'm irresponsible ‘n make shitty choices, babe?” 

“Absolutely.” 

“Tch. Omegas.” 

You snickered again before cutting to the chase: “So, you're calling about my Touma?”

Sukuna swallowed. “Yeah. Gotta say I'm pretty fucking confused.”

“Yeah, I get it.” He heard you shift in bed, triggering a rumble of grumpy noises from your little one. You hushed him gently and apologized before the small, crackly purring resumed faintly in the background. The thought made Sukuna's heart ache.

“What do you wanna know?” 

Sukuna inhaled deeply. “Why'd you keep it?” 

“I wanted him,” you said. “Next question.”

“...When did you know?” 

“Mmh…I guess about a week or two after we stopped hooking up.”

“And you didn't say shit?” 

You went silent for a moment, and Sukuna felt his nerves tingle and prick. He wasn't anxious. He wasn't feeling betrayed. It wasn't any of that. Absolutely not. 

“I guess I got cold feet,” you admitted. “I don't--I know how many baby daddy accusations you get, y'know? I didn't want you to think I was just trying to get you to pay me out or something.” 

Oh. Okay. That made sense, actually. 

Too many omegas and women Sukuna fucked around with pointed the finger at him if they caught some sort of STI or fell pregnant; even if it was months after fucking, Sukuna would be suspected of fathering the pregnancy of a newly-pregnant, ex-partner he hadn't seen in eternities, and the media would run to the ends of the earth with it. He was the infamous bad boy the media circuit loved to prey on. And Sukuna didn't really care for it–not until now. Not until those fucks ruined his opportunity to be a dad. 

“Fucking–” Sukuna sighed and put his mug down to rub his face. “Shit. Shit. Fucking media bastards. Fuck.”

“I need to get my car tuned,” you said.

Sukuna deadpanned. “Read the fucking room, babe, we're not–”

“Do you want me to bring Touma?” You finished, undeterred by the alpha's grouchiness. “So you can meet him? I think he'd like that.”

Oh. Oh. Ouch. His heart–was Sukuna about to die? Why'd his chest hurt so much? What the fuck? 

Sukuna cleared his throat and ran a hand through his hair. “I–yeah? Yeah. Alright.” 

“Okay, cool. When's your next–” 

“Tomorrow.” He cleared his throat again and scratched at the back of his neck. “Any time.” 

You stifled a laugh poorly. “Don’t be nervous, Sukuna.” 

“M'not. Fuck you.” 

“I can do tomorrow. Let's saaay…1pm?” 

“Yeah, sure. 1pm.”

You rolled up at 12:59pm. 

Sukuna had the garage open, everything tidy and ready to go like he actually gave a fuck about tuning your car when his literal fucking son was about to be in his presence. But he was so not nervous. Definitely not fucking nervous. Nope. Nuh-uh. Never. 

You stepped out of the car and Sukuna felt his heart jump; you looked the same as you did last time he saw you. You were dressed more casually, though, done up in joggers and runners with a university hoodie to top it all off. Clearly, you didn't care to impress today. 

You threw Sukuna an easy smile before pulling open the back door and taking care in plucking your chubby bunny from his car seat. All the while, Sukuna wandered closer and closer, but maintained a respectful distance just in case your momma bear came out to bite. He knew you had an impressive temper when your easy-going self got pushed too far, and he would rather not bring that out right now. 

“Pa!” Your son yipped as soon as he got up into your arms. “Puh Pa!” 

You melted immediately, punching Sukuna in the gut with your happy scent of maple syrup and cardamom as the little one nuzzled up to you, repeating variants of “pa!” as he rubbed his chubby cheeks and snotty nose against your neck and face to get that perfect scent onto him. 

“You're so sweet, bunny,” you cooed and adjusted him in your arms as you met Sukuna the rest of the way. “Hey, hey! So, did you want to meet him first, or–?” 

Sukuna didn't know what the fuck to do, honestly. 

“I, uh. Car shit first. What needs tuning?” He drawled, watching the pup clinging to you with rapt attention. 

Admittedly, Sukuna didn't really pay attention to what you were saying and what you were gesturing to; he was too captivated by the faint wisps of scent he caught from your little one. He smelled of smoke and syrup–a perfect combination of his parents’ scents. 

And he just looked so much like the both of you. Touma's skin tone tilted more your direction, but the glowy, bronzey quality that Sukuna brought to the table still shone through in its own weird way. His eyes were almond-shaped like his own, but bore the same, welcoming colour of yours. And, fuck, his hair was just a perfect match to Sukuna's. If the little shit got Maori tattoos too, he'd be a tiny carbon copy. 

Damn. Speaking of–would his mom wanna meet the little shit? Her grandson? Would she ever bother leaving Hawaii to–

“You get all that?” You asked. 

Sukuna stared at you. “Get what?” 

You pursed your lips like you so often did and turned to the big, bad alpha. 

“Maybe we should do the meet ‘n greet first, huh?” You swayed a little and kissed Touma awake. “Baby, you wanna meet a friend?” 

“Buh!” Touma exclaimed. You gently guided his little face to look at Sukuna, and the boy looked star struck staring up at the absolute unit that was Ryoumen Sukuna. 

“Touma, this is Sukuna.” You closed the gap between the two of you a little more, and Sukuna leaned down to look at the little one. His little one. 

Sukuna twitched a smile as he looked over the little thing. “You sure this thing’s mine? Looks a little small.” 

You laughed. “If you were born as big as you are, I’m so, so sorry for your mother.” You nuzzled Touma’s little cheek and bounced him a little. 

“Wuh!” Touma’s little arms flew up towards Sukuna, and the towering man looked a little more than nervous, looking at the tiny pudgy hands like they were deadly weapons. 

“Come on, don’t look at him like that.” You took Sukuna’s hand and delivered it to Touma. “He’s curious. He hasn’t met anyone as big and tall as you, y’know?” 

Sukuna huffed, but let the little one grab at his fingers and hold his hand. “What, you don’t have another alpha looking after you? Hard to believe that. You're the neediest little bitch I know.” 

“Stop. I'm not Yorozu,” you huffed, and Sukuna cringed at the name. “He has alphas around, sure. But not big ones like you–security excluded. It's not like other men want to play nice with another alpha's pup.” 

Sukuna caught the hint of a frown on your face, and his hackles started to rise. 

“Some dumbfuck giving you grief?” Sukuna asked, voice rolling with thunderous promise. He'd kill whatever moron fucked with you and his pup. You just had to drop the name.

You sighed, light-hearted. “You know what the rich and famous are like--we're the worst.” 

Sukuna growled, and Touma mimicked the noise as best as he could with his pathetically teeny tiny crackled voice. Fuckin’ cute as shit. 

“Tch. Don't sell yourself short.” 

“I'm just trying to say I don't need that around my boy, and I sure as hell don't want it around me, either.” You nodded and stepped closer as Touma reached up for Sukuna again. Apparently just holding his hand wasn't doing it for the boy anymore. 

“Good. Don't need those pathetic fucks around the runt–oi, wait, what the fuck're you–” 

“Wup, wup!” Your son shrieked as you helped bully Sukuna into holding him.

“He wants uppies.” 

“Uppies,” Sukuna balked.

“He wants you to–okay, you're bad at this–don't hold him like that! Here, do it like–” you cut off as you helped Sukuna get a comfortable hold on Touma while the littlest one squirmed and squeaked in delight, trying to climb up onto Sukuna's shoulder but failing miserably. 

Sukuna twitched a smile as you sighed, exasperated by the ball of energy trying to scale the mountainous man. But he got a hold of him, tucking his arm under his butt and holding his back to make sure the little shit didn't go plummeting to the floor. 

“You give your ma hell, huh? I can get behind that,” Sukuna hummed. His son's little hands papped at his face, grabbing at his nose and jaw–specifically over the dark tattoos streaking along the curves and cut of his features. 

And you smiled the entire time. You pursed your lips tightly to hide it, but you did it so poorly. You always did. Maybe it was on purpose. 

“So, can I tell you about my car problems now?” 

Sukuna held onto his runt while you explained what flaws, either cosmetically or mechanically, were bothering you. It mostly consisted of slight dents from other assholes not knowing how to park, paint scratches, and more of that sort. As a fellow car guy, Sukuna could understand the anguish of having a favourite baby get all dinged up. 

“Not hard to fix,” Sukuna decided. He held the hood up with one hand and looked over the motor–everything looked clean and well-maintained. He was almost impressed. “But, well, it'll cost ya. Uraume can send the details.” 

You nodded. “Sure, sure, sounds good. I'm never taking this thing on the road again after it's fixed. Too many fucking idiots out there with piss poor driving skills.” 

The mechanic smirked. “Ho? So beating up your car is what makes you start cussin’, huh? Noted.” He let the hood fall closed and adjusted his hold on the now-sleeping tot. “Couldn't even get you to do that in bed.” 

“Psht, don't say that in front of the baby, Sukuna, jeeze,” you sighed and rubbed your face. “Babies remember more than you'd like to know.” 

“Huh. You think he'll remember when he got–” 

“No, he won't remember his inception.” You laughed and shook your head, but paused when you saw smears of concealer on your fingers and tutted. 

“How long's the car gonna take? Should I get a rental?” You asked before the man could comment.

“Probably, if you want me to detail this thing right,” Sukuna mumbled. He reached out and turned your chin back to him, looking at the spots concealer missing, hinting at dark circles under your eyes. 

Your face grew hot, but you nodded and cleared your throat. “Yeah, okay. I'll, uh. I'll call someone to pick us up–” 

“I'll take you home.” 

You brightened the slightest bit. “Yeah? I–okay.” You pulled his hand from your face and smiled. “I'll grab the car seat.” 

Sukuna liked your house. It was a nice mix of traditional and modern with large stretches of woodgrain and bamboo. A neat outdoor garden and pond decorated the front, but a bigger, more lush collection of tropical plants greeted guests. It was beautiful, if one was desperate to be in nature. 

“I'm just gonna get him to bed, be one second.” 

Sukuna nodded and pocketed his hands as he pretended to not watch you trot upstairs with the sleepy cub melting in your arms. You still had a nice ass even after popping that little melon out. Huh. 

He looked around your space more, wandering with slow, lumbering steps. The house wasn't huge by any means, but it was cozy and warm, quiet and hidden away from the city's gaze. That was probably why you chose it–here, you could be honest with yourself. You could shield your babe from the brutality of your career and keep him safe from leering eyes. Honestly, one of the leaves on your giant monstera could hide him from the whole universe. 

Guy's too obsessed with growing shit. It ticked him off, but he didn't know why. 

Maybe it was all the photos of you and Touma. Maybe it was because he wasn't in them and too many other men were in his place, lining your walls in the protection of cheap IKEA frames–but Sukuna didn't want you. No, no, Ryoumen Sukuna did not want anyone. He didn't want you. He didn't need to settle down and–

“You want a glass of wine?” You asked when you came back down the stairs. “It's plum wine. Don't really have any scotch or anything, but I–” 

Sukuna scoffed before a mocking laugh slipped out of him. You paused, looking at him with bleak attention as he shook his head and pocketed his hands. Your request for him to stay pissed him off; clearly, you expected something more from him.

“Whaddaya think is gonna happen here, huh? You think we're gonna fall in love, pick up where we left off, have a happy little fuckin’ family to tell the tabloids about?” 

“What?” You asked. “I never–”

“Didn't have to. Gotta admit, you did a better job than the rest of the whores that tried wrangling me in to–”

“All I asked,” you cut him off, voice quiet but firm, “Is if you wanted wine. I’m not proposing, Sukuna.” 

Sukuna didn’t like that. The whole…not-being-into-him and not wanting him to stick around after he just shut you down. He sucked his teeth and took a breath, about to say something, but you spoke first. 

“I know this is a PR thing. I know how the whole media circus works–you want your ex to stop bothering you, and I want people to stop asking questions about who the fucking father of my son is.” You paused, staring Sukuna dead in his eyes, a quiet, simmering rage boiling just beneath the surface of placid control. 

“Call my manager when the car’s done,” you decided, sounding beaten down and exhausted. “I’ll send someone for it. Thanks for the ride home.”

Next thing the man knew, he was ushered toward the door and stood in the doorway, stuck on the idea of being kicked out of his omega’s–no, no, out of an omega’s house like he was trash. 

“Fucking–wait, just–” 

“What?” You snapped.

“I could–glass of wine doesn’t sound too bad–”

You shoved the bottle into his hands and slammed the door. 

Sukuna tried to sleep it off–as in, he slept around to forget about the crushing weight of rejection collapsing down on him, shattering his chest, spearing his heart with shattered bone. 

You still kept being so fucking nice to him, too. You never slandered him, never spoke ill whenever he was asked about in interviews–you spared his reputation with a kind smile every time you had to talk about him or to him. 

And he was grateful for it, even if he didn't return the favor. It's not like he was on a smear campaign, no, but anytime a hook up would ask about you, he wouldn't give a glowing review, per se. But it wouldn't be scalding either. Just sheer indifference tainted with drops of bitterness stemming from unripe guilt.

It went on like that for months–until you did your parental duties, and set aside your feelings about Sukuna for the sake of your son.

“Uraume, get that,” Sukuna called as his phone rang. He was too busy fucking around under the hood of his latest project to wipe his hands free of grease and pick up himself, obviously.

But Uraume was there for a reason. They picked up the phone with a polite hello before their sharp frigidity melted into rounded edges. 

“(Name)-san,” they hummed. “It's good to hear from you. Do you need to talk to Sukuna-san?” 

Sukuna started wiping his hands off so unbelievably fast. 

“He's working on a car right now. You know how he can be when he's focused.”

“Fucking–piece of shit–what the fuck–” somehow, he got even more grease and oil on his hands thanks to that stupid fucking rag. God, what a nightmare.

“Sure, I can take a message.” 

“Fuckin’ shit fuck, fuck.” He wiped his hands on his designer jeans before running to Uraume and gesturing for the phone.

Uraume's brows raised, and they actually smiled. 

“Ah, hold on, Sukuna-san's here.” 

Sukuna snatched up the phone, ignoring the knowing look glimmering in Uraume’s eyes. Ugh. Ugh. Betas.

“Hey,” Sukuna said after clearing his throat. 

“Hey! Ume said you were working on a car? You didn't have to stop to talk.” 

“Yeah, well.” Sukuna shrugged to himself and kicked a scrapped car part, sending it skittering across the ground and clanking into other parts. Jesus, when did his shop get so messy? “Needed a break anyway.” 

“Ah. You work too hard, you need to take breaks more often,” you laughed sweetly. “So, listen, Touma's birthday's coming up–”

“Shit, seriously?” Sukuna grinned and kicked another chopped part. “Fuck. How old's the little shit turning?” 

“Two! He's growing up so fast, I wish I could slow down time and–” you paused and laughed, suddenly sounding unsure and a bit nervous. “Sorry, sorry, was about to go on a tangent. Anyway, there is a little get-together, but you don't have to come. Satoru and Toji'll be there. But your brother and his son'll be there, too, so it won't suck completely.

“Otherwise, if you want to come see him earlier or something, that's fine, and–and you're not cutting me off and I didn't think I'd get this far so I'm losing the plot.” 

Sukuna huffed. “What, you don't want me to fuckin’ listen, huh?” 

“I know you will since I have such a pretty voice, but I'm surprised you're being a good boy for once.” 

The mechanic rolled his eyes and rubbed his face. Who knows if it was to wipe away embarrassment or fatigue. 

“You’re exhausting.” 

“And you’re a dick.” There was a special brand of teasing bitterness behind those words, but the vibes were balanced perfectly; seemed you were still cranky about what he said, but you were willing to let it slide.

Sukuna chuckled, relaxing the slightest bit. “Alright. I don't know what the fuck kids like at that age, but I'll figure somethin’ out. I can at least show up Jin.” 

“Wow.” 

“Text me time and place. I'll be there.” After a moment, he added, “I’ll bring some plum wine. Fancy shit.”

The hidden rumble of a purr snuck its way out from your side, and Sukuna did everything he could to suppress his alpha's reciprocation.

“Sounds good. See you then, Sukuna.”

Toji answered the door. 

“Hah. Why the hell are you here?” The fuckhead ex-Zenin asked with a stupid, shitty smirk on his dumbass face. 

Sukuna strained not to throw the first punch. He really shouldn't murder someone at his--your son's birthday party. Murder is bad. Murder is bad. 

“Fuck you.” Hey, at least it wasn't murder. “‘M here for my fucking kid.” 

Toji crossed his arms and suddenly looked beyond bored as he leaned against the doorframe. 

“Your kid? You mean (Name)’s kid?” He wondered, putting on a show of thinking. “Weird.”

“You're one to talk. You forgetting what you did to your own brat? You fuckin’--”

“Sukuna!” Your sweet voice called, instantly changing the atmosphere. “Glad you came. Do you–oi, Toji, move, stop bodyguarding. You're not a bouncer.”

“Eh?” Toji stayed in his spot as you smacked at his arm and tried to push him away. “I'm just standing here. Not bodyguarding. Minding my business.” 

“You’re so full of shit.” You wheezed and squeaked as the man suddenly gave way, nearly making you crash into him and plummet to the floor. But you caught yourself and hissed at the dark-haired menace until he whistled innocently and waltzed away. 

“Fucking--why’s he here again?” Sukuna grumbled as you let him in. He leaned down to nose at your cheek with a grumpy, quiet grunt--typical greeting procedures for an interested individual or bonded pair. But the way you choked on whatever you were about to say meant he must've caught you off guard. 

“He's uh–we work together. We've worked together? He was the stunt coordinator for some movies I've been in.” You cleared your throat and took the present bag from Sukuna to place with the others. “And I babysit Gumi sometimes.” 

“Gumi? What the fuck is a Gumi?” 

“Megumi? His son?” Oh. Oh. “I babysit Yuuji too, so. Thick as thieves, y'know?” 

Sukuna nodded a little, thinking hard on the lore. He liked that Yuuji was taken care of by you, but surely that wretched Gumi could go somewhere else. Toji was probably just leeching off of you. 

“Oi, Momma, get in here,” Toji crowed from wherever all the baby giggles and excitement bubbled from in the house. “Your boys need some maternal guidance–” 

“Toji, don't make it weird!” Jin whisper-yelled before going on a long-winded rant about this and that, about proper behaviour and attitudes in front of children (not that the kids were paying attention to anything Toji did). 

You gave Sukuna a tired smile. “Come on. It won’t be that bad, I promise.”

Sukuna sighed, but let you drag him to his demise, bottle of wine in-hand.

But it wasn’t that bad. Not really. 

Your other boys, Gojo Satoru and Getou Suguru, showed up and showered tiny Touma with way too much praise and far too many gifts, but the little shit looked so pleased that Sukuna couldn’t get too annoyed. Shoko and Uraume came by, too, much to Sukuna’s surprise. Uraume brought with them a whole fucking confectionary cake they’d crafted themselves at home. Gojo obsessed over it and Getou tried to reign him in to no avail. 

And the night went on. No one talked shit, not unless it was in good fun, no one got fucking hammered, no one talked about work–it was all about the kids. Nothing else. No one else. 

Sukuna could never guess just how far that truth went.

When everyone left for the night, the alpha could start to see the edges of your smile fraying. But you held on, thanking everyone for the gifts and for showing up for Touma, and especially thanking Jin for offering to let all the little ones spend the night at his place (you and Toji would forever be in his debt). 

Then, when the door closed and all fell silent, he heard you cry. 

Sukuna didn't know what to do about people crying. He never had. Even when he was a kid, he had a hard time trying to comfort people with hugs and words of reassurance–he just couldn't do it. 

“It's okay,” he heard you whisper. “It's okay. It's okay. You're okay. It's okay. I'm okay.” 

Sukuna got up and leaned against the doorway to the kitchen. “Sure about that?”

You jumped and clasped a hand over your mouth to stifle your scream. Sukuna barked out an ugly, reedy laugh while he defended himself from your petty smacks and pinches. 

“You scared the fuck out of me–why're you still even here? Go home! Shoo!” You wiped your eyes once you were done harassing him and turned away, busying yourself with cleaning up dishes and wrapping paper left in the aftermath. 

Sukuna followed you idly, a shit-eating grin still plastered on his face. What could he say? He loved seeing you get all petty and riled up. But he didn't love seeing you cry. He didn't love seeing you try to stealthily wipe tears away, to try and steady your shaky breathing. 

“What’s going on with you, babe?” Sukuna asked as he settled beside you at the sink. 

“It's nothing,” you said with a snuffle. “It's seriously nothing. Sorry, I--you don't need to stay. Or anything.” You sighed and rubbed at your eyes with your sleeve. “You've done your fatherly duties. You're free to leave.” 

“Yeah? ‘N what about my baby daddy duties?” He wondered, voice so horribly low and comforting, like the buzzing crackle of a campfire. 

You laughed, watery and shaky. “You already did everything you needed to, Sukuna.” 

“Come on, don't cockblock me like that.” He gently tilted your Chin his way to catch your eyes just like he had back at the shop all those months ago. “Look at me.” 

You did. Your eyes were red and irritated, whatever pretty boy make up you wore was wiped off and smudged, and those heavy, dark bags met the light in front of someone else for the first time in a long time. 

You still had the gall to laugh it off and pull Sukuna's hand from your face with a small, “I'm fine,” though. 

“Then why the hell are you crying?” He asked. 

You squeezed his hand with both of yours. “Things are just…hard. Overwhelming.”

Sukuna nodded a bit. “That why Jin took the runts tonight?” 

“Yeah. Needed some time, I guess.” You snuffled and wiped your face with both hands before finishing up with cleaning. “Makes me sound like a shit parent, I know.” 

Sukuna couldn’t disagree more. “Least you're not flipping out on the kid. That'd be way shittier, yeah?” 

“I don't know. I guess, but–yeah. I don't know.” 

Sukuna sighed and scooped you up like a new bride. “You're driving me fucking mental.”

“Sukuna–!”

“Quiet.” Your omega indeed piped down at the grouchy command, and you shyly let the man carry you up the steps to find your bedroom. “You're getting some damn rest. You look like shit.” 

You grumbled something Sukuna elected to ignore in favour of tossing you onto a bed the way one might lob a stone into a pond. You landed with a warbled squawk and looked at Sukuna with horribly accusatory, baffled eyes. 

Sukuna quirked a brow as he looked down on you, gladly using his broad build and tall stature to secure your submission. And it worked; the aggravated spark in your eyes curled up and fell silent after a few long seconds. Your head lowered just the slightest bit, too, but your passive gaze remained stuck on him, waiting for his next move. 

“Fine,” you grumbled. 

Sukuna raised his brows and eased onto the bed, caging you underneath him with his solid frame. Your scent flickered with shy playfulness, and Sukuna relished in it. 

“How do I know you're gonna obey, omega?” 

“I guess you don't. Not for certain,” you admitted begrudgingly. 

“Tch. Someone's gotta keep you accountable then, huh?” He nosed at your neck, nearly letting his lips touch your neck but refusing to do so in the same instance. “Make sure you're doing the right thing, make sure you're behaving.” 

One of his hands squeezed at your soft thigh before inching up little by little. Your hands found themselves in his hair as he teased at your joggers’ waistband, pulling the elastic taut before letting it go. 

“Sukuna,” you laughed, sounding a little breathless. “I, uh–I thought you said–”

“Changed my mind.”

“But–”

“Forget what I said and let me make you cum on my fingers, brat.” 

Oh. Well, hard to argue against that. 

You swallowed but gave a meek nod. He ripped your bottoms off and felt up your blazing skin with rough, calloused hands, groping and grabbing in the same spots he liked back when you were hooking up: your thighs, your hip bones, the squish of your stomach. As much as the man harped on about not wanting “damaged goods,” he sure worshiped your body like it was brand new, untouched. 

Sukuna brought his fingers to your mouth, and you took them with utmost compliance. Your tongue worked against his digits thoughtfully and thoroughly for your own sake–a lack of starter lube wouldn't end well, after all. And Sukuna was not the most patient man in the sack.

“See?” Sukuna crowed into your ear as his hand traveled south and a finger sunk into you. “It's not so bad to just behave, now is it?” 

You already felt like you were about to explode, and Sukuna savoured It. He liked being the one to do this to you–the only one for a while, considering how tight and sensitive you were. Any little push or prod inside you brought sweet sighs and soft moans to the surface–and a second and third finger had your hips bucking and your nails digging into his shoulder and back as he finger-fucked you to oblivion while still caging you in. 

“Good omega,” he cooed. “Gonna cum already, huh? Tch, you shoulda said no one’s been taking care of you; I would’ve taken my parental responsibilities more seriously.” His lips and teeth landed on your neck, as you curled up into him, body tensing, heels digging into the mattress, panting and gasping getting louder and faster. The sound made his pants strain even more. 

“Fuck, you smell fucking good. Better than when I fucked you the first time.” 

“I-I forgot you talked so much in bed,” you managed out. “Could you just–shut up?”

Sukuna growled, and you whined. “You want me to shut up, huh? You wanna listen to your slick fucking hole getting spread open, plowed into? You miss me that much, omega?”

“No.” You hissed and clung to his upper arm as he somehow managed to take it up a notch, slipping his fourth finger in and spreading you obscenely wide. 

“I think you did. Think you were hopin’ I’d come around, plow you into the bed again, stuff you full like no one else can.” 

“Sukuna–”

“I’ll fill this hole up all you want, baby–I’ll even stuff another pup in you. Twins. You want that, huh? You gonna be my omega from now on? Creaming on my cock ‘n fingers the way you shoulda been the day you walked your perfect, little ass into my life?” 

“Shut up, shut up, shut up–” you choked on a gasp and bit into his shoulder, soaking his shirt with drool and shuddered mewls while your body tightened and ecstasy hit like the weight of Sukuna’s words–brutal, fast, honest. 

Sukuna moaned in sympathy, ignoring the way his hand and arm cramped and ached to keep pistoning into you and draw out your high. He couldn't help it–something about you drove him mad in that moment. It could have been how you made his ego swell, it might've been the way his greed needed your slick staining his and only his skin, perhaps it could have been a quiet yearning coming from his lonely, hollow alpha. He didn't know. But he didn't question it. 

Your body started to relax with the death grip you had on his shoulder as you came down from the sudden, electric high. Your hips still jolted with every slow, lazy push into your soft hole, though a haze of purring and cooing filled the spot where gasps and moans once did. Eventually, you melted off of him and collapsed onto your back, looking as content as a cat lounging in the sun. 

“Oi, oi, you're not done yet, sweetheart.” But if you said you were done, he might've listened. Just that once. 

You hummed something as you looked up at him, eyes doey and so egregiously lovey-dovey. 

“That's a nice face. Make sure you save it just for me,” Sukuna gently commanded, and you laughed. 

“Demanding. I thought you didn't like used goods.” 

Sukuna scowled. “Shut up.” His free hand traced the stripes of stretched skin left in the wake of bearing his baby boy. “I like ‘em when they're used by me.”

“Does that really make them ‘used goods,’ then?” You murmured as if speaking logic too loud would break Sukuna's entranced obsession of you. 

But maybe, maybe, you had a point. 

“Guess I'll have to think on that.” His fingers slipped out of you and he gave you a wet slap on the ass to wake you up. Your subsequent squeak sure as hell woke Sukuna up. 

“Ow. Gross.” 

“I'm not finished with you, brat. Don't get too fuckin’ content, yeah?” He smirked when you glanced at his crotch expectantly. “You want me to fuck you?”

“Please.”

Sukuna sighed and settled between your legs as he futzed with his belt and button. “Could put up a bit of a fight.” 

“Too tired.” You yawned and stretched with a pleased sigh. “No will to argue.” 

The alpha leaned down to bite at your knee, and you pulled your legs together to avoid his chunky, rude fangs. You knew he'd delight in making you bleed or leaving dark bruises. He was the worst. 

“Still got a little fight left in ya,” Sukuna said with a grin. “Let's see how much more we can find, hm?”

[kodaiki]

┊.˚🏹 ༘┊͙ 𝐂𝐔𝐏𝐈𝐃'𝐒 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄 ; ↳ as one of the leading stars of "jujutsu kaisen," yuuji itadori shines brightly in the spotlight, captivating hearts all over; it's only obvious that he'd capture yours as well. so, in a time of utter hopelessness, believing you'd never get a chance with him without help, you turn to the person you never thought you would: his older brother.

pairing: fem!reader x sukuna tags: smau/partially written; acquaintances to lovers!au, actor!sukuna, model!reader, matchmaker!sukuna, friend!yuuji, jjk is a live-action show in this au, grumpy x sunshine dynamic, sukuna is yuuji's older brother, he’s dark and brooding, age gap (sukuna is 29 and reader is 23), fluff/angst/humor length: 1/?? note: omg next au mlist dropped,,, v much hype lol; bc yuuji and sukuna are related, itadori is his last name too! there may be spoilers so beware! dedicated to @ilvrs bc i love her 😌😌 taglist details: will open at the conclusion of SCRIPTED HEARTS! pls don’t ask until i announce it’s open!

[disclaimer: the way the reader is portrayed is just for the reason of style/posing! this is not what the reader looks like (she should look like however you’d like her to!) just wanted to clarify!!]

COMING SOON . . .

©kodaiki 2024 all rights reserved aka pretty please do not repost my work on other platforms or translate them (つ﹏<。)

[screamin-abt-haikyuu]

You're jealous but you can't do anything because you're not dating him (Part 7) - Wakatoshi Ushijima

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

Pairing: Ushijima x Fem! reader

Genre: Angst to fluff

Warnings: none, really? Reader calls him Toshi.

Requested by: @ushisrever

A/N: Can't believe I posted the last update to this more than two years ago. Has it really been that long???? The incomplete series has been bothering me for two years now lmao. Didn't think I'd ever find a fitting scenario for Ushiwaka but thanks to @dira333 helping me sound off some ideas, I was able to get that perfect "snap!" you get when you fit a puzzle piece in perfectly. Gave me enough brain juice to write this out before going back into hibernation.

Serving you some fresh, hot angst and then some lol. Enjoy the burn and then the healing. For someone who was as far removed from Ushiwaka (emotionally) as one can, writing this actually made me see him in a new light. Loved writing him. Hopefully, it stays as true to his canon nature as it can. Hopefully I don't trash this before it's out💀 but if you're reading this, it's good lol.

It feels like the entire Shiratorizawa is at the gates of the school.

"I can't believe she's coming to our school!"

"AAA I can't stop imagining how she'll look in our school uniform."

"Do you think she already has a boyfriend? Maybe I have a chance?"

"I don't know about a boyfriend but you certainly don't have a chance with her."

"Must you always be so cruel?!"

"If you think a star child actor who has made it so big in the industry is going to date a simpleton like you, you're delusional."

You sigh, annoyed, as you try to make your way through the babbling crowd. You're already late for your morning classes and you couldn't care any less about Hoshiko Nakamura. Or any celebrity for that matter.

"In fact, I don't think any boy in this school has a chance with her. Hmm... except maybe Ushiwaka? Not that he'd be interested in dating her anyway. Sometimes I feel like that guy doesn't have any emotions at all."

Your ears perk up at the Ace's name.

Wakatoshi Ushijima has become somewhat of a celebrity at school ever since he was selected for the under 19 representative for Japan in the Youth World Championship.

He was already well known as the formidable volleyball player who crushes any team that he takes on. However, his serious and stoic nature has kept most people from approaching him. Till now, at least.

The girl was right. Wakatoshi wouldn't even think about dating anyone. You seem fairly sure of that. However, the suggestion still leaves a bad taste in your mouth.

You're wrong about him not having any emotions you think as you finally break free from the crowd and sprint towards your classroom.

You've known Wakatoshi for as long as you can remember. You remember when his family moved into the house next to yours when you were just little kids. You remember watching the reserved, determined figure of the boy practicing volleyball all by himself in the nearby park. You remember going up to him and offering to play with him. Out of all these memories, the most vivid of them all was the way his eyes subtly lit up when you said you wanted to play with him.

Time has blurred into a haze since then. Even though you both went to different schools all through junior and middle school years, you both kept alive the tradition of playing volleyball together in park.

"You should come to Shiratorizawa," he had said that fateful day. You both were in the last year of middle school. It was a beautiful evening as you both walked back home from the park, the setting sun throwing hues of red and gold across the partially cloudy sky.

"That's not in my hands. I tried in middle school, remember? I want Shiratorizawa but Shiratorizawa doesn't seem to want me," you said, kicking a pebble on the road. Funny how I could say the same about you.

"That was three years ago. You have grown," he said without pause.

"We'll see. I don't want to get my hopes too high. You know just as well as I do that they give preference to athletes over normal students like me. Casual volleyball games with you are just about as sporty as I get," you said as you reached out to open the gate to your home.

You turned to say goodbye to him and found him looking at you, his expression more serious than usual.

"It's not about athleticism."

"Shiratorizawa only accepts the best. Be it volleyball or anything else. I believe you fit into that category. You should come," he says, looking straight into your eyes.

Your stomach flutters. How could he have so much faith in you? There is no doubt that he believes in you because Wakatoshi Ushijima always means what he says. Almost 5 years of knowing him had taught you that. You still found it hard to digest, though.

"I'll try my best, I promise."

"I know you will."

"Class, please give a warm welcome your new classmate, Hoshiko Nakamura!"

You can't help but gawk at her. Saying she is pretty would be a severe understatement. If she looks pretty on screen, it is nothing compared to what she looks like off screen. You look at your desk partner to see if he is thinking the same. Wakatoshi, however, seems to simply be listening to the teacher.

"Miss Nakamura, I'm sure you will have no problem settling in here. To kind of help you settle in this new environment, I was thinking of seating you next to Ushijima as I believe you two have met before at some of the national events."

The teacher might as well have thrown a bus at you and it would have felt just about the same as you do now.

Hoshiko's face lights up. "That would be great. Wakatoshi-kun has always been a delight to be with. Thank you for having me," she says and bows.

Did she just call him by his first name?

"Ah, Y/N, sorry for springing this on you so suddenly. I wanted to get a hold of you before morning class but couldn't. I hope it's not a problem," the teacher says.

You force a polite smile. "It's not a problem at all," you say and start packing your bag.

Hoshiko walks up to the desk and waits patiently for you to gather your stuff, thanking you again.

Your legs feel heavy as you take the empty seat diagonal to them in the adjacent row.

I'm panicking for no reason. They just know each other from an event. It makes sense to make her sit with a familiar and safe person, given her popularity. Yes, Wakatoshi is definitely the ideal choice in this scenario. He is not someone who would be creepy in any sense. He's also strong and intimidating so it would keep the creeps away. It's fine. It'll be fine. Nothing is going to happen between them... right?

"Wakatoshi-kun, I'm so glad I got to sit next to you," she says, smiling at him, speaking loud enough for people sitting nearby to hear.

"Actually, if I'm being honest, when I decided to come back to my hometown to complete my studies, I knew I wanted to go to Shiratorizawa immediately," she continues.

"Of course. Shiratorizawa is the best school in the prefecture. It's only natural to want to study here," Ushijima says, completely seriously.

Hoshiko blushes. "Ah... that is not what I meant... nevermind," she says, causing the guy behind them to burst into laughter.

It seems like the hollow sensation growing in your stomach is here to stay.

It has been two months since the day Hoshiko joined your school. With Ushijima going to school earlier than usual and practicing late into the night for the Inter High preliminaries, he hasn't been able to spend much time with you lately. Normally, this wouldn't have bothered you because you could see him in class everyday but with Hoshiko now taking your place, you barely get to say more than hi to him.

However, with the prelims now over and the upcoming week-long break ahead, you're hoping to get some one-on-one time with him once again. All these years with him have made him such an intrinsic part of your daily life that it feels like something big is missing when he's not around. To the world, Wakatoshi Ushijima might be a lot of things. But to you, Wakatoshi Ushijima is home. He is comfort. He is strength. He is someone that you know like the back of your own hand. He is someone that your heart always keeps coming back to. He is the only love you have ever known.

You know that he doesn't share the same feelings for you. But that doesn't stop your heart from longing for him.

The lessons for the day are over and you walk back to your class, eager to pack your bag and go home with Ushijima. You wonder if he'll want to go to the park in the evening.

"She's asking him out! She's asking him out!"

"No WAY! I am SO jealous."

A small crowd has gathered around the window and they're whispering amongst themselves as they look outside.

"Man, that Ushiwaka is so lucky! He gets to date the most beautiful girl in the entire country."

"I mean… he is in the nation's top 3 aces and an under 19 representative of Japan. Not to mention he's tall and strong and good looking. They're actually perfect for each other."

Your heart drops down to your feet.

You look out the window and find yourself looking at Hoshiko and Ushijima standing a ways away from the school building. They're in a quiet, secluded spot and Hoshiko seems to be blushing as she says something to him. You see him nod and say something in return. Hoshiko's face lights up in pure delight and even though they are at a distance, you can hear the joy in her voice.

"No way!!!! He said yes?? I thought he wasn't interested in girls!"

"Goddamn it! There goes my chance!"

You feel dizzy as you watch the two of them walk back to school together.

No. This can't be. You have always known that he doesn't like you that way. But you thought he wasn't interested in dating at all.

No. You shouldn't make any assumptions just yet. These gossip mongers are messing with your head. For all you know, he could have said yes to being in a show or something. You shouldn't despair before you hear the truth from him.

You blink back your tears and run to your class. Thankfully, it's empty. You take a few deep breaths to calm yourself and wait. Both of them soon appear in the hallway. The crowd surrounds them instantly, wanting to drown them in questions but Ushijima breaks away from them easily and walks towards the class. He comes up to you.

"Y/N. I'm sorry I won't be able to come to the park today."

It's true.

"Hoshiko and I are going to watch this new movie playing at the theatre-"

He's going on a date with her.

"Apparently it has a lot of volleyball in it-"

He's going on a date with h-

"You should join us."

Huh?

"What?"

"I figured you might like it since you play volleyball with me even though you don't play it otherwise."

What? What? What?? What is happening right now??

Ushijima patiently waits for your answer.

"Uh... Whose idea was it to go to the movie?"

"Nakamura's. Why?"

"And how did she bring up the idea?"

"Well, I was returning from the club and she asked to speak to me in private. And then she told me about the movie and if I wanted to watch it with her."

He didn't get it.

"Ah... Toshi... I'm pretty sure she was asking you out on a date."

His eyes widen with surprise.

"A... date? But she never said she had romantic feelings for me."

Could this mean...? Can I hope...?

"Well, her asking you out on the date was her way of saying it."

"I see. I didn't realise. Thank you for telling me. In that case, I should tell her my feelings for her as well."

He has feelings for her.

Your heart shatters.

You're glad that he walks out right away because you couldn't have stopped your tears from coming out even if you wanted to. You run out of the back door, desperate to get far away.

I guess I was the problem all this time. I just wasn't someone you could look at that way.

You had always known that. You had always known that he didn't feel for you the way you did. But that hadn't stopped you from falling for him. Hard. How could you have not? Eight years of knowing him... You didn't even realise when you fell for him. Loving him just came so naturally to you.

Logically, it makes sense. They make sense. She is beautiful and tall and smart. And so is he. They are the type of couple who would be featured on the cover of a magazine. Which, given their career trajectories, is bound to happen sooner or later.

But the heart doesn't care for logic and at this moment you feel like it will actually burst from the amount of pain you're feeling.

You spend the rest of the evening and the entire night crying in your room.

Morning comes and you feel worse than ever. Your head is throbbing, your nose is stuffy and your eyes are swollen. You decide to skip school. It's the last day before break anyway. Maybe this break will be good for you. It will give you some time to adjust to everything and compose yourself.

You go back to bed and sleep through the entire day.

You thought you'd feel better after getting some rest but you still feel like shit.

You drag yourself out of bed. Your entire body feels like it weighs ten times more.

Maybe a shower and some fresh air will do you good.

You head out.

No matter how much you try to think of something else, your mind keeps coming back to him. Your eyes keep searching for him. You look in the direction of his room. The curtains are open and you can see it is empty.

Of course he's not home yet. He's probably out with her again.

Even though it's barely a minute away, you feel exhausted by the time you reach the park. Thankfully, it is empty.

You sit on one of the swings and look around. Most of your memories with Ushijima are tied to this park. This is where you both have spent the majority of your last eight years together.

All the sweet memories make you tear up again.

"You didn't come to school today."

You were so lost in your head that you didn't realise when he walked up to you. You blink back your tears.

"Oh... hi. Yeah, I - I wasn't feeling very well today," you say, not meeting his eye.

"You seem upset."

He noticed.

"Oh... I'm fine. Really. It's just been a rough day. It's nothing to worry about," you say, still evading his gaze.

He sits on the swing next to you. You look to the side and see he has a volleyball in his lap.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

You quickly avert your gaze again.

"No."

"I see. Well, would you like me to distract you? Talk about something else?"

It is getting harder to keep your tears in check. You're sure your voice will crack if you speak. You just nod.

"You would've liked the movie. It wasn't as focused on volleyball as Nakamura said it would-"

Great. He's chosen the worst topic he could have talked about. You don't want to hear about his date. You need to change the topic. Quickly.

"What are you doing here?" you blurt out the one question that has been weighing on your mind ever since he came here.

"What do you mean? I came here to play volleyball with you."

"I- I mean... I thought you would spend your free time with Ho-Hoshiko from now."

"Why would I do that?"

"B- because you're d-dating her?" Your voice cracks.

"I am not dating Nakamura."

What?

"What do you mean you're not dating her? I thought you liked her. Didn't you go on a date with her yesterday?"

"I do like her. Just not romantically. And no, I went to watch the movie with Tendou. She had already bought the tickets so I bought them from her. I wanted to watch it with you but you went home. "

"But... you left to tell her your feelings for her..."

"I did. I wanted to clarify that I only feel for her as a friend. It was only thanks to you that I was able to tell her in time before I ended up hurting her unintentionally."

"I...see..."

Relief floods your heart. You suddenly feel a hundred pounds lighter. You finally gather the courage to look at him. He is looking right back at you.

"Can I ask you something?" you say, your lower lip trembling.

"Of course."

"Do you have romantic feelings for anyone?"

You instantly regret speaking up as soon as the question leaves your mouth. You know he never lies. And if he doesn't feel the same w-

"Yes. You."

You stare at him blankly.

It's subtle but his expression has changed from completely serious to something a little softer. You can't quite place what it is. Is it concern? nervousness? Adoration?

"R-really? You like me? Romantically?"

"Yes."

"Since when?"

"Ah," he rubs his chin, "I'm not sure..."

You're still having difficulty believing that any of this is real.

"You know," he continues, "After my father, you were the first person who ever wanted to play with me."

He points towards the corner of the park. "I was practicing against that wall that day when you came up to me. Do you remember?"

"Of course I remember. I can never forget that day."

"So many people have come and gone from my life but you have been with me for so long that, I guess somewhere along the way I just assumed you would stay forever. Which, I now realise, I shouldn't have."

He feels the same. He has always felt the same.

"Toshi?"

He turns to you again.

"I love you."

He breaks into a soft smile.

"I love you too."

Holyshit this was a ride. I'm glad I wrote this and I hope you guys enjoy.

Reblogs appreciated. Please do not steal or repost.

Taglist: @pinkiipeachiikeen @duckymcdoorknob @kakiwrites @ebiharachan @r0binscript I wasn't sure if you guys still want to be tagged for this series, seeing that it has been over two years so let me know if you want me to remove you from the taglist.

Check out THIS POST to know what all characters I have written for in this series.

MASTERLISTS | If you enjoy my work and want to, you can Buy me a Kofi!

[haunted-headset]

Ok hear me out… scare actor reader and Wilbur who just wanted to go to a haunted house and then boom he’s like “oh no. The serial killer is pretty” you can use ur imagination for the rest this is just the caffeine talking to me with fanfic ideas :)

🔪 Is That Too Scary for You? 🔪

Summary: Headcanons about how Wilbur would act if he saw you, the reader, being pretty & a fake serial killer in a haunted house

A/N: HOLY SHIT. I LOVE THIS IDEA! Again, very sorry that it's only headcanons (idk if I'm even using the right term anymore lol), I'm extremely burnt out & tired rn. also tysm for the asks! it's been keeping me busy af & i love it! Also, the title was based off of the song I Think I'm Okay =)

pairing: CC!Wilbur x afab!actor!reader

pronouns used for reader: She/her/hers

tags: @vibestillaxxx @joviepog @ax-y10 @themonsterunderurmom @wilburstan @smolsleepykitten @funnyreally2009 @crows-death @thewheelersgaygaragelights @dykepunz @aresriiots @0miamor0 @cathers-world @defonotval @chipch0p @mazzistar16 @unmellowyellowfellow @justalittlebitofchaos @thosecolorfulsheets @vopix @taylors-version-from-the-vault @aine-lasagna @merianakross @veeislost @urfav-sapphic-siren (pls let me know if you do/don't want to be tagged!)

warnings/cw: scary stuff, reader is a scare actor (you're basically a fake serial killer), fake blood, the people with Wilbur & Tommy on the vlog getting jumpscared, reader pretending to k!ll Wilbur, Wilbur having a dream about the reader

genre: fluff/horror

Wilbur would probably be accompanied by the Sorry Boys for a Tom Simons vlog

Wilbur probably wouldn't want to go in the first place because he;d get scared easily

So when they do get inside the haunted house, they learn that everyone who's in the haunted house now becomes part of a challenge. They now have to escape the haunted house without being killed by any of the creatures/ghosts or you, the serial killer. It's basically just an escape room

When he first hears your menacing voice behind him, he stops walking. Not out of fear, but out of awe.

↑↑ You laughed creepily. "It seems I have some visitors here today..." Wilbur stopped in his tracks & Tommy turned the camera towards Wilbur. He was staring at you in awe. "Wilbur, stop being a simp & run!" Tommy laughed, pulling Wilbur away from you. "...Tommy, the serial killer's hot."

He basically tried to find any way to bring the group closer to you. He thought you were really pretty.

Would definitely 'die' first just to hang out with you

If you pinned him to the wall to 'k!ll' him, he would be so fcking flustered

↑↑ "Nowhere left to run..." you chuckled. You stabbed two of your fake knives into his shirt sleeves to pin him to the wall. "Any last words?" & Wilbur would be crushin' & blushin' so damn hard as he said, "Honestly? Uh you're really pretty & I kinda want your number if it isn't too much to ask-"

He ended up letting you 'k!ll' him so that you could bring him to where the people who were eliminated stayed until the attraction was over & you two just talked for an hour or so

& then you were stabbing him to death in his dreams <3

[fluentmoviequoter]

Family Name

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x reader (reader was in the Army and SWAT in Central City)

Summary: After ten years away, you return to Gotham. When you discover you know the true identity of the Joker, you join Batman's fight to save Gotham.

Warnings: angst, fluff, vague references to several DC Comics movies and timelines, murder (I can't get too specific about the murder warning without spoiling a plot point, but there is a friendly fire aspect and an assassination by a sniper)

Word Count: 6.6k+ words

A/N: This is my first time writing for Bruce Wayne (or at least posting it lol) so he may be OOC. I actually wrote most of this a year ago and just put the finishing touches on it, so I'm not sure if it's worth reading. Feel free to let me know what you think and send any Bruce Wayne requests you have so I can keep practicing for him! (If you want a specific characterization/actor let me know.)

The map that I used as a reference while writing is included at the end!

Masterlist | DC Masterlist | Request Info

Gotham is still cold, wet, and smelly. Some things never change, no matter how hard a certain vigilante tries. It’s been nearly ten years since you last set foot in Gotham, and things have changed. For better or worse? Who can tell?

It is raining as you walk out of the train station on the outer border of Gotham City. You shiver and pull your jacket closer to your body as the cold drizzle starkly contrasts the sunny Central City you came from. You hail a cab and tell the driver the address of your temporary apartment. The news station on the radio catches your attention, and the driver turns it up when you ask.

“After a fearsome showdown last night with the Joker, who is still missing from Arkham Asylum, the Batman has been spotted in downtown Gotham. The GCPD is on high alert following several tips of illegal business at the Iceberg Lounge,” they report.

“You new in town?” the driver asks.

“Not exactly. I haven’t been here in years though,” you explain.

“Then you’re new. This is a whole new Gotham. Just stay on the good side of the Batman and you’ll be fine, kid. This is you.”

After paying the driver and pulling your bags from the trunk, you stand on the sidewalk and look up at the place you now call home. The apartment building is old but in decent condition. Especially considering where it is. As the rain grows heavier, you move inside, climbing the stairs to the third floor and entering your apartment. The unit came furnished, so you only have some clothing to unpack. You start a list of the housewares and cleaning supplies you’ll need to buy. Walking around the living room, you notice the cable is hooked up and turn on the television. The local television channels are either out because of the rain or playing broadcasts of last night’s story. Any background noise will do, you suppose, as you leave a news channel on and begin unpacking and cleaning with what little bit of supplies you have.

After cleaning, you take a break and fall back onto the couch. The news is still on, and a face flashes across the scene, filling you with an odd sense of recognition. You lean forward to get a better view before exclaiming, “No way.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“When did you come back?” someone asks as you enter a small department store.

Looking up, you smile when you see a familiar face. “Barbara, hey! Last night. Been in Central City for too long.”

“Should have stayed there,” she says, laughing humorlessly. “Gotham is quite literally the most crime ridden city in the world now. It’s on the sign and everything. At least in Central you have a vigilante to protect you.”

“So does Gotham,” you point out. “He’s all over the news.”

“Yeah, we do. But for every criminal he puts in Arkham, ten more pop up.”

“Is your dad still a cop?”

“He’s the commissioner now. Actually…” She pulls a card out of her wallet and hands it to you. “Call him if you ever get in trouble. Be careful, okay? This isn’t the Gotham you remember.”

“I will. Thanks.”

You watch her leave before you begin shopping for the items on your list. After shopping, you are back in your apartment, cleaning and organizing. The Gotham News has more showtime than Hannah Montana in the 2000s. You find yourself invested in every story they present. Maybe this isn’t the Gotham you remember, but it is still Gotham and your home. If this city needs help, you'll offer everything you have.

“Citizens of Gotham, I am Police Commissioner James Gordon. Regarding the recent red alert at Arkham Asylum, the GCPD is urging residents to stay indoors, lock doors and windows, and most importantly, stay calm. We are not sure at this time how many, if any, patients escaped the asylum. Anyone with information is encouraged to contact crime stoppers at 800-”

You mute the television and look at your closet. An armour-plated uniform hangs front and centre, practically begging you to put it on and fight for your home. If Barbara doesn’t think Batman can handle all the criminals, maybe he would appreciate a little help.

“Don’t be stupid,” you chastise yourself, still looking at the closet. A few minutes later, you find yourself standing in front of the closet, thinking, “But you have the training.”

✯✯✯✯✯

Gotham looks much darker from a rooftop. You find a lookout spot a few blocks from Arkham, assuming anyone who escaped will have to pass you eventually.

“Oh, sweet Gotham! Riddle me this!” a high-pitched voice calls. A moment later, you see a man dressed in a green suit entering the alley below you.

“Now or never,” you whisper as you move toward the edge.

“The more of it there is, the less of all you see. What is it?” Riddler asks.

“Darkness,” you answer as you grab his shoulders.

You pull him backwards and knock him to the ground. His breath rushes out at the impact, and you bring your elbow down to his face, rendering him unconscious before he can catch his breath. The burner phone you bought earlier is programmed with James Gordon’s number in it.

“Gordon,” he answers.

“Riddler is unconscious in the alley at Tomlinson and Pygall,” you say lowly, hoping your voice is disguised enough, before hanging up.

Your attention is ripped away from the unconscious criminal as a silhouette of a bat floats across the sky.

“There’s hope yet, Gotham,” you say, smiling.

✯✯✯✯✯

It seems as though you are better at vigilantism than you expected. Everywhere you go, Batman is either already there or crosses your path. He has yet to see you, that much is sure. Lurking on a dark rooftop, you hear the telltale sign of his grappling hook and are a second too late in realizing he is moving onto the same roof as you.

“So, you’re the one who’s been stealing half my jobs?” he asks, walking toward you.

“You seem busy, thought you might like some help,” you respond, shrugging as you change your voice again.

“Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate the thought. But you need to go home. This is dangerous and you could get hurt.”

You internally roll your eyes at his obvious arguments. “So could you.”

“Doesn’t matter if I get hurt.”

“Me neither. Any idea how many more of them are out there?”

Batman sighs and turns away from you to look over the city. “One or two,” he answers. “The city got lucky; Joker was in solitary and didn’t get out.”

You nod to yourself, moving toward the edge as you ask, “Why does it seem so easy to escape Arkham?”

“Poor security, not enough staff, an old building. The list is endless. Every time someone tries to strengthen it, a stronger foe comes along and breaks it again.”

“You’ve been doing this a long time.”

“Yet nothing’s changed.”

A sound behind you stops your answer. Turning toward the sound, you launch yourself onto the fire escape, ignoring Batman’s pleas to stop. 

“Whoa,” you breathe, looking at the plants growing in the alley. 

“You’re not the Bat,” Poison Ivy, whose news special aired last night, says. “You’d look much better in green than him.”

“Every plant I’ve ever owned has died. It’s one of my talents,” you taunt before throwing a canister from your belt. 

“It won’t work, Buttercup. I’ve been tear gassed many times.”

“It’s not just tear gas,” you call as the plants begin to wither. “It’s concentrated sulfur dioxide. Deadly to plants and debilitating to people.”

She coughs several times before falling. An arm wraps around your waist, and you are hoisted through the air before landing on a rooftop. 

“What was that?!” Batman demands.

“Sulfur dioxide.”

“That’s not what I mean, and you know it! You can’t just run around taunting criminals in a mask. What if that hadn’t worked and she had hurt you?”

“She didn’t. Besides-“

“No! You don’t get to justify this.” He keeps talking, and you feel like you have heard him before. You watch him closely as he continues berating you. 

“This is not a game. Do you understand that?” Bingo. You smile at him, his chest heaving as he prepares to yell at you again.

“You’re still really protective,” you say lightly. 

Batman turns toward you quickly, shaking his head before asking, “What?”

“In middle school you wouldn’t let me jump from the top of the swing set. Just funny that you’re still so protective when you risk your life every single night.”

“What are you talking about?”

You move toward the edge of the building and look over your shoulder at him. 

“Goodnight, Bruce.”

Batman runs to the edge after you jump, but the alley is empty. 

“Alfred,” he calls into his earpiece. 

“You’ll figure it out, sir. Eventually.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“Didn’t I tell you to stay home?” Batman asks as he walks up behind you. 

“No. You told me I couldn’t run around taunting criminals in a mask. Which, by the way, I have some questions about. Can I walk and taunt criminals in a mask or is it the taunting that’s the problem?” you tease, looking up at him from your crouched position. 

“Ha ha,” he deadpans. “I’ll give you a pass for the other night, but you need to go home. Right now. I’m not letting you get hurt for this.”

“Then don’t. Watch my back and I’ll watch yours.” You extend your hand for a handshake as you stand. 

“No deal. Go home.”

“I’m not going home. So, stay with me and we can help each other or I’m going to go hunt him down on my own.”

He narrows his eyes at you before sighing and shaking your hand. 

“Why are you smiling?” he asks as he releases your hand. 

“We always were a pretty good team.”

You see the moment of recognition as his jaw drops under the cowl. He recovers quickly and points at you. 

“Ground rules. Number one: you don’t engage. Two: stay hidden. Three: run if things go south.”

“Got it. Be boring,” you relay. 

“This is not the time for jokes. Our lives are on the line. You don’t even have a good reason to be here.”

“Yeah I do.”

“Please enlighten me,” Batman prods impatiently. 

You can tell he is mad you were here and are not listening to him. Too bad, Bats, you think. Gotham is your home, too, and you aren’t going to let it fall into the hands of some crazy clown or any other criminal. 

“But before you tell me that, tell me what makes you qualified to be out here.”

“Look at me. Armoured uniform, tear gas, I’m a CCPD jacket short of official.”

“You’re CCPD?”

“I was. SWAT officer for five years after I got out of the Army. But I grew up here and I’m not letting this city go without a fight.”

“Why this fight? The one criminal we haven’t been able to stop for almost a decade?”

“Because...” You look up at him and smile. “I know who he is.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“Thank you, Batman,” Commissioner Gordon says, shaking Batman’s hand. “We’ll get him in solitary.”

“Thanks, Jim,” Batman replies. 

“Who’s your new helper? Everyone at the station is talking about the reaper that popped up and knows how to take them all down.”

“An old friend. Try to keep them in a while longer this time, will you?”

Commissioner Gordon turns around to see Batman is gone. “We’ll try,” he mumbles into the dark. 

✯✯✯✯✯

The next night, Batman is gone. You don’t so much as see his shadow all night. There is only one criminal out; maybe they’re all on vacation, too. Killer Croc used Arkham’s sewer system to escape and pop up downtown. It was a long and tiresome fight, but you got him on the ground, and the GCPD took it from there. You finally reach the rooftop, preparing to cross them to go home, but don't make it far. Hitting the roof, you feel pain shoot through your ribs. After running your hand across the area, your skin is stained red. Great, you think. 

“What were you thinking?!” Batman reprimands you as he appears and kneels beside you, pulling items from his utility belt. 

“Mostly about what I was going to eat for dinner,” you joke, hissing when the antiseptic hits your skin. 

“I’m sorry,” Batman says quietly. “Are you okay?”

“Peachy. At least it wasn’t my neck this time.”

“I told you not to use your belt to traverse the jungle gym,” Batman mumbles. 

“So, you do remember me,” you say happily.

“You’re still an idiot with a death wish.”

“And you’re still Mother Hen Bruce.”

“This’ll help for now,” he says, helping you stand up and hooking his arm under your shoulders. “But I’m taking you back to the cave to get you checked out.”

“Didn’t do enough checking out in high school?” you slur before passing out.

“Alfred, we’re inbound,” he says into his microphone. 

“Glad to see blood loss doesn’t dampen her sarcasm,” Alfred responds, “I’ll be ready.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“What did you mean you know who he is?” Bruce asks. 

You blink several times to make sure you aren’t imagining him. He looks different than the last time you saw him. Without the mask, he’s more like the Bruce you grew up with, just older and barely holding Gotham together.

“You got hot,” you say without thinking. 

“Thanks. Now tell me what you meant.”

“That I know who he is?” you clarify, standing up. 

“Please stay down,” Alfred chides as he returns with tea. 

“Thanks, Alfred. Good to see you again.” You smile as you accept the tea. 

“You as well. Now take it easy. You should be battle ready in a day or two but that’s only if you rest properly.”

“No, you will not be battle ready. There is no more battle for you,” Bruce adds. 

“You know I’m not going to listen and if you tell me no I’ll just do it myself.”

“We’ll have this conversation later. For now, tell me what you know about Joker.”

“Okay. He’s my uncle. Like twice removed, or-“

“There’s no way you’re related to that monster,” Bruce interjects. 

“I’m not, really. We’re related by marriage. His aunt or somebody else married my cousin and I happened to meet him a few times. Fate, I guess.”

“Do you know his name?” 

“No. Everyone in the family called him J. I thought his name started with a J but see now that it’s because he’s cuckoo for cocoa puffs.”

Bruce chuckles and shakes his head before turning serious again. “Are you really okay?”

“I’m great. Thanks for the assist.”

“I’m glad you’re back. Even if you are endangering yourself and ignoring everything I say.”

“Me too.”

“But Alfred’s right. You need some rest. We can finish this conversation later.”

“I can go home,” you say, standing up.

You stumble slightly, and Bruce catches you, holding you upright against him. 

“Can you?” he asks, the ghost of a smile appearing on his face. 

✯✯✯✯✯

“I think I found something,” you cheer when Bruce answers the phone. 

“Where are you?”

“My apartment. It’s by Sacred Heart.”

The line goes silent, so you say Bruce’s name. 

“You’re living by the Narrows? I thought you just went out there to fight.”

“It’s a fine building. I’m not in the Narrows.”

“No but you’re between Crime Alley and Arkham Island. You need to find a new place. Now.”

“I can’t afford anything else, Bruce. It was this or Slaughter Swamp.”

“Pack your essentials. I’ll be there in twenty.”

He hangs up, leaving you with a dozen questions. However, you know he means what he says, so you pack the stuff you can’t live without and are ready to go when he shows up twenty minutes later. 

“You’re staying at Wayne Manor until we find you a new place.”

“That is not necessary.”

“It’s not just that this is close to the Narrows. We’re going after Joker, and I need to know you’re safe.”

“We’re not going after Joker,” you correct, “we’re finishing this.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“Bruce, I can’t find a marriage certificate. They may not have been married; maybe they were just living together or something and didn’t want to explain it to a kid,” you admit, disappointed in your lack of findings. 

“It’s okay. We will find something. And if we don’t, we can do it another way,” he assures. 

✯✯✯✯✯

“This is the fourth Arkham breakout in as many weeks. When do you sleep?” you ask. 

Alfred laughs faintly through the communications system. 

“During Wayne Enterprises meetings, usually,” Bruce answers. 

“I got one. Going dark,” you alert before jumping to meet Captain Boomerang. 

After a short fight which results in your earpiece breaking, Captain Boomerang is unconscious, and you prepare to call Gordon. 

“Ha ha ha ha,” an eerie voice cackles behind you. 

You freeze in place before turning slowly and coming face-to-face with the Joker. He knocks your helmet off in one swift move, and your face is now visible. 

“I remember you. My aunt married your second cousin. Horrible family you have. Or should I say had? Ha ha ha ha.”

“What do you want?”

“Is a family reunion not enough? No, I guess you’re right. I mean, marriages end so are we even related anymore?”

“We never were.”

“Oh, that’s where you’re wrong, Reaper! You know everyone calls you that, don’t ya? Personally, I think it’s a bit morbid but to each their own. I also heard from a little bird that you’re working with the big, bad bat. I had such great hopes for you, and you let me down.”

“What do you want?” you repeat slowly. 

“To be family again,” he answers, smiling as he runs his fingers over your face and hair. 

“What about Harley? Isn’t she your family? You were all she could talk about the other night.”

“Not anymore. She settled for some used piece on her Suicide Suckers. But me and you? Me and you could be the dream team. The family to end all families.”

“I don’t want to be part of your family.”

“When I found out Harley was a harlot, you know what I said? I said I’d peel off her skin and put it on a new body. But I can’t imagine those words coming from her. So, from now on…” he moves his hand to rest in front of your throat as his smile drops. “If Harley wouldn’t say it, you don’t say it.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“Alfred, where is she?” Bruce asks.

“Toxic Acres. She’s still not responding,” Alfred responds, watching your tracker blink in the same place for the fifth consecutive minute.

“I’m going after her,” Bruce declares.

“Be careful, Master Bruce.” Bruce doesn’t respond, and Alfred mutes the private connection as he watches Bruce’s tracker move toward yours. “And don’t do anything you’ll regret.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“You’re making a mistake, J,” you hiss, the pressure of Joker’s hand on your throat making it hard, but not impossible, to breathe.

“No, they made a mistake,” he argues, moving his hand slightly as he steps back to look at you.

“Who?”

“Your family. All families. Everyone who treats people like outsiders.”

“You mean to tell me you’re doing this - all of this - because you never felt like you belonged in a family?”

“No!” Joker yells, leaning his weight against your throat as he smiles in your face. “Because no family has ever accepted me. I know I don’t belong, but everyone expects families to lie, right? Especially their own, but no, poor Joker always got told the truth! ‘You’re too strange,’ ‘You’re dangerous,’ ‘The kids are scared of you,’ yet no one ever offered to help me fit in.”

You raise your hands to his arm and claw at his skin, growing desperate for air as he rants. He looks over when your hits grow weaker and pulls his hand back. You fall to the ground, wheezing, as you try to take deep breaths. 

Holding your neck, you look up at him and ask, “Then what do you want?”

He kneels in front of you and holds a knife out in his hand. “I want you to find a family and make a Joker-sized hole for me to fill.”

Shaking your head, you argue, “I’m not like you. I won’t do that, J.”

He cocks his head as his smile falls. “Harley wouldn’t say that, would she? And, besides, you’re more like me than you think, aren’t you? And what’s more interesting is that I think you know it. We’re the same, you and I, whether you like it or not.” The knife is raised to your throat as he threatens, “Do it, or I will make another hole in your family.”

“Another?” you ask.

The blade presses against your skin, and you close your eyes, unwilling to give him the theatrics and attention he so desperately seeks. A grappling hook sounds somewhere above you just before the blade is removed from your throat. Joker’s words echo in your head, and your eyes stay closed. Someone gently touches your neck and your face, but you don’t open your eyes, in case it’s him trying to trick you. He does that; you remember that too well.

An arm loops around your waist as a hand pulls your arms over broad shoulders. Only when you’re flying through the air and clinging to him are you ready to admit that Bruce is saving you. Opening your eyes, you see Wayne Tower in the distance. You tighten your arms around Bruce’s neck, and his hand squeezes your waist in response. He lands on the roof of Wayne Manor and rushes into the Batcave.

“What did he do to you?” Bruce asks as he sets you on a medical exam table. The same table you sat on when he saved you after the fight with Killer Croc.

Bruce tries to step back, but you cling to him. He’s the only family you have left, and Joker opened an old wound with his talk of carving a hole in a family to fill himself. That’s what he tried to do with your family, but when he still didn’t fit, he kept carving.

“Please don’t leave me,” you whisper into Bruce’s suit.

Bruce’s arms wrap around you, pulling you to the edge of the table as he cups your head to his shoulder.

“I’m right here,” he soothes. “Not going anywhere.”

He holds you for longer than you realize; time slows down in Bruce’s arms. When you pull back, he cups your face in his hands and looks at you intently.

“Want to talk about it?” he asks.

“Not right now,” you whisper.

“That’s okay,” he promises, nodding.

“The guest bedroom has been prepared and dinner is awaiting you, Master Bruce,” Alfred calls, briefly appearing in the doorway of the Batcave.

“Can we talk about it in the morning?” you ask.

“Of course. Whenever you’re ready. And you’re staying here tonight.”

You don’t argue, nodding as you stand and follow Bruce upstairs. He shows you to a guest room with clothes, toiletries, and more books than you can count. Telling you to use whatever you want; he leaves to change before meeting you for dinner.

When you enter the bathroom to change into the clothes you found in the closet, you see yourself in the mirror. Mostly, you see the red line running across your neck. Joker has hurt more than enough people, you decide, and you meant what you told Bruce; you plan to finish this.

✯✯✯✯✯

Bruce sits up suddenly. The sun is coming through the cracks in his curtains, but something feels off. He pulls a shirt over his head and walks down the hall, knocking on the door to the guest room where you’re staying. After a moment of no answer, he lets himself in. There’s a note on the bed in your handwriting.

I can’t let him do it again, especially not to you. Please stay home tonight and let me finish this fight. I should have done it ten years ago, but I was scared and ran. This is my chance to make everything right. Please forgive me.

Bruce takes a deep breath, suppressing his urge to punch a hole in the wall. Alfred wouldn’t appreciate another one. He rereads the note, then goes downstairs for breakfast like everything is fine.

“Where is our guest?” Alfred asks when Bruce enters the dining room. “Resting, I hope.”

“She’s gone. She left in the middle of the night to, quote, finish a fight like she should have done ten years ago.”

Alfred’s eyes widen as he stops moving trays onto the table. “You’re going after her, then?”

“No, Alfred, I am not.”

Bruce picks up the paper, as nonchalant as ever, and more convincing than when he turns on his Brucie Wayne charm.

“Why ever not, sir?”

“She asked me not to. And after her reaction to me last night, I’m inclined to listen to her.”

“You can’t be serious.”

Bruce drops the paper and looks at Alfred. “I am going to do exactly what she said.” When the paper covers his face again, he adds, “For a while.”

“Good man,” Alfred mutters, returning to serving breakfast.

✯✯✯✯✯

Realistically, you know that breaking into Arkham and executing a patient isn’t the best idea, but it would solve the problem. However, there’s the downside of life in prison for first-degree murder that you’d have to contend with. Bruce would surely visit you, but you don’t want to lose him before you get him back.

Perched on a rooftop, you watch Arkham and hope your trap is being laid as planned. The security lights blink on seconds before the alarm sounds. If Arkham Asylum is good for anything, it’s the consistency of frequent breakouts. No matter who breaks out tonight, you’re prepared. All you have to do is convince them to lay a trap for Joker, convincing him that you killed someone, and then you can pounce. Watching the alley below you, you furrow your brows as you lean forward.

“Catwoman?” you ask incredulously.

She looks up, tilting her head at the sight of you. “Reaper?” she asks, sounding far too excited.

“What are you doing here?”

“What do you think I’m doing?”

“Thieving, I presume?” She nods, and you lower yourself onto a fire escape before jumping to meet her. “There’s nothing here worth stealing.”

“Maybe.”

You clench your hands into fists and look down the alley.

“I think the better question is what are you doing here, Reaper? I’m not exactly in your demographic.”

Under your mask, you press your lips together and consider confiding in her. She cares about Batman as far as you can tell, so if you tell her Joker is planning to kill him (though, in reality, Bruce is his likely target), she may be willing to help.

“Batman dump you? He does that,” Catwoman hums.

“What? No, no, we’re not together like that.”

“Yet,” Catwoman interjects.

“Look, Joker is going to try to kill someone that I love. He’s already ruined my family forever.”

“You just moved here, who could you possibly love here? I thought I fell fast.”

“I grew up here, and-“

Your mind races as you remember that you haven’t been seen with Bruce since returning, but Joker has been out since then. Pulling the earpiece from your pocket, you hope someone is in the Batcave.

“Hello?” you ask into it, desperate and terrified for your family. “Take whatever you want,” you tell Catwoman when you don’t get an answer, “heck, take something for me too. But if you see Batman, tell him I’m looking for him?”

“Sure.” You move toward the end of the alley before Catwoman asks, “What should we call you?”

Smiling, you answer, “Reaper is growing on me.”

“Good luck, Reaper.”

You could have taken a grappling hook before you left Wayne Manor last night, but you were more concerned with Bruce’s safety than yours. Getting off of Arkham Island and into Gotham Heights will take too long on foot.

“Batman?” you ask, trying the comm again. “Anybody?”

“You called?”

You slide to a stop, nearly falling over, when you see Batman perched on a roof, looming like a gargoyle. He spreads his cape as he moves to the road before you. Looking down at you, though you can’t see his eyes, you know he’s trying to ensure you’re safe and unharmed.

“He’s going after Barbara. I thought he meant you, but he was out when I saw Barbara.”

“I’ll call Gordon. We need to get to Gotham Heights.”

“We’ll never make it in time. The alarm sounded twenty minutes ago.”

Bruce’s head turns toward you as he presses a button on his utility belt. The Batmobile turns a corner, coming to a stop beside you. Your eyes widen as the top opens, jumping in the passenger seat as you look at everything in awe.

“Barbara is stronger, and knows more than you think, but she can’t hold him off forever.”

You nod, prepared to do whatever you have to do. Even if it means making Bruce hate you.

“And I forgive you. Whatever you do, I understand,” Bruce says quietly. “Just- just remember that your actions affect more people than just you.”

✯✯✯✯✯

It’s a trap. The driveway beside Barbara’s place is decorated like the cookout where you met Joker.

“Go check on Babs, I’m right behind you,” you tell Batman.

He hesitates, noticing exactly where your focus is, before tapping your shoulder and running toward Barbara’s door. When Batman is out of sight, Joker’s laugh surrounds you.

“Did you do it?” Joker asks, stepping out of the shadows.

“No.”

“Whyever not?” he asks with a laugh.

“Because I’m not a killer. We are not the same.”

“Come over here,” he demands. You listen despite your body’s urging to leave. “And give me a real reason,” he adds when you stop across a picnic table from him.

“That is the real answer. I will not do to another family what you did to mine. I’m not a killer.”

“Now, now, now, that’s not true.”

His eyes are fixed on your mask, likely imagining your furrowed brows and scared eyes. “Is the mask necessary, Reaper? We know one another. It’s just family here.”

You swallow as you rip the mask off, levelling your gaze on Joker, determined not to show him how much he is affecting you.

“If you hurt her, I will end you.”

Joker flaps a dismissive hand. “She’s fine. I just needed a reason to celebrate, but you didn’t keep your end of the bargain.”

“I’m not-“

“A killer, yes, so you say. However, there’s a family out there that begs to differ.”

You lick your lips, unsure how he knows this. The record was redacted and eventually destroyed, so no one outside of your team at the time should know.

Joker’s laugh draws your attention back to him. “You are a killer. Just like me.”

Shaking your head, you flinch when Joker slaps his hands onto the table, leaning forward to get closer to you. 

“Joseph,” Joker whispers, smiling widely at your surprised movement.

Someone screams in the distance, and you remember your promise: to protect your home, no matter the cost. Unholstering the gun you hadn’t carried in years, you hold it to Joker’s forehead.

“Do it,” he begs, leaning against the barrel. “Show them how alike we are.”

Your arm shakes as you fight to do it. With a finger on the trigger, Joker should be gone already, but you can’t do it.

Lowering the gun, you sigh, preparing for Joker’s next idea or a surprise dose of his laughing toxin. He watches you until he reaches for something. Before you can lunge forward to stop him, a shot rings out in the Gotham night. You hear it as Joker jerks to the side, slumping to the ground. Turning toward the right, you search the skyline for the shooter. You see a familiar salute and laugh to yourself as the silhouette disappears.

 “Reaper!” Batman yells, rushing toward you. He slows as he sees you standing over Joker.

There’s a note, half blown apart. He took credit. You laugh again, oblivious to Batman’s concerned gaze on the back of your head. The laughter quickly turns to hiccups as you fight to remain composed. You walked out of Wayne Manor prepared to assassinate Joker. Now that you have essentially been an accomplice to his death and reminded of your worst mistake, you’re falling apart.

Bruce whispers your name, a hand on your arm as he turns you away. He raises a hand to your jaw as the first tear rolls down your cheek.

“I killed him,” you admit.

“No, you didn’t. That shot was too far away, no one will blame you.”

“I killed Joseph,” you repeat. “I didn’t see him, and there was so much fog and- I shouldn’t have taken the shot.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I left the Army and joined SWAT because I killed a civilian. I don’t know how Joker knew, but he was right. I am a killer.”

“Hey, hey.” When you don’t respond, Batman summons the Batmobile, whispering to Gordon on the phone as he helps you into the passenger seat.

Once you’re in Wayne Manor, dressed in a pair of sweatpants and one of Bruce’s shirts, he pulls you into his arms.

“You’re not like Joker, and you’re not a killer. Friendly fire is a terrible thing, but it’s not your fault. You can’t keep blaming yourself for that. Saving people has its costs, and if I could take the guilt from you, I would.”

“I don’t even know how it happened,” you confess, “I dream about it all the time, but I don’t remember actually pulling the trigger.”

“You may never know. But either way, you can forgive yourself and move on.”

Wiping under your eyes, you lean against Bruce’s chest as you ask, “What did Gordon say? How’s Babs?””

“Their ballistics team is examining the velocity and angle to find where the shot came from. Barbara didn’t even know anything was happening, she’s fine.”

“The roof of Verdant in The Narrows,” you whisper, laying an open hand over Bruce’s heart.

“That’s too far for a shot like that.”

“Not for Army snipers.”

“Friend of yours?”

“Used to be,” you shrug before adding, “Lawton started killing for money, and I couldn’t support that.”

“Wait,” Bruce interjects, pushing you back slightly, ducking to look into your eyes. “You’re telling me that Deadshot just killed Joker? For free?”

“He doesn’t do anything for free,” you answer, smiling. “But I didn’t pay him if that’s what you think. Besides, he left a calling card of sorts.”

“Not at all. Batman will call Gordon tomorrow and let him know.”

“What’s Batman doing tonight?”

“He’s on vacation,” Bruce sighs, leaning his forehead against yours. “And Bruce Wayne is catching up with an old friend.”

Smiling, you turn sideways to press your chest against Bruce, laying your arms over his shoulders.

“I think that sounds like a great night.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“I found something,” Bruce says, removing his cowl as you enter the Batcave.

“A life?” you joke.

“Ha. No, I had a friend of mine go searching for that destroyed Army record.”

“Why?” you ask quietly, wringing your fingers together.

“Because you didn’t kill Joseph. Your gun never went off, and the shot came from a different direction with a much higher velocity. This looked like sniper.”

“You think it was Lawton?”

“Wouldn’t be surprising.” Bruce tilts your head toward him and looks you in the eye to add, “But the important thing is that you have no reason to keep carrying that burden.”

“Thank you. I don’t know what to say.”

“Come on patrol with me.”

“I thought you didn’t want me to get hurt.”

“You won’t. Not with me around.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“Hey, Bats.”

“Catwoman,” Batman answers.

“Reaper was looking for you a few nights ago.”

“Yeah, we ran into each other. Thanks, though.”

“She said you weren’t together like we were, but I find that very hard to believe.”

“Give them back,” you say, surprising both Catwoman and Batman.

“Give what back?” she parrots.

You hold your hand out. “The pearl necklace and earrings you stole. They’re not worth anything to the woman, but they’re sentimental.”

Catwoman huffs, pulling a small bag from her pouch and tossing it to you. “I chose them for you anyway.”

“What?”

“You said to steal something for you too.”

“I thought my best friend was about to get murdered, I didn’t mean it!”

“And did you mean what you said about not being with Bats here?” She places a hand on her hip, and you take the opportunity to look at Batman before answering.

“He’s just not my type,” you answer, shrugging one shoulder.

You see his jaw twitch before he nods his farewell to Catwoman.

“I didn’t mean it,” you whisper as you walk past him. “And we’ve got a crocodile to catch.”

Batman sighs. “Welcome to Gotham.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“Whose are they?” Bruce asks as you examine the pearl jewellery.

“Mine,” you answer, not looking at him. “What are the chances she’d use my permission to thieve to rob me?”

“Not bad with Sel- Catwoman.”

“Selina Kyle, yeah, I know.”

“Sentimental, huh?”

You turn toward Bruce, passing him the necklace.

“I told your mom that I liked her pearls, like five months before she was killed, and the next day she surprised me. She picked me up from school and told me we were going shopping. They’re the cheapest ones the store had, but I’ve loved them ever since because they came from someone I loved and… I guess they made me feel a bit more like her, and she was amazing.”

When you look back at Bruce, he’s still holding the necklace, but his gaze is on you. He sets the necklace down, stepping toward you. Gripping your waist, he pulls you against him with a wide smile.

“You’re amazing too.”

“Not like her.”

“There’s no one quite like her. But she loved you too, more than you know. Actually, she thought we were going to get married,” Bruce adds, nudging his nose against yours.

“I did too,” you whisper.

Bruce kisses you quickly, pulling back to gauge your reaction.

“Based on the newspapers, I thought you’d be better than that,” you tease.

Bruce clicks his tongue before pulling you into another kiss. While he takes your breath, he fills you with love and hope. His hands keep you as close as possible, one sliding up to hold your head as he deepens the kiss, whispering something against your lips.

“Wait,” you mumble, moving your hands from his jaw to his chest. “What did you say?”

Bruce smirks, the charm that no one gets to see any more on display. “That I love you.”

Your eyes widen, and you grip his shoulders as you rise to kiss him, informing him that you feel the same. “I love you more,” you say against his lips, melting into him as you become one.

“My mom would want you to have her pearls,” Bruce whispers, rubbing his thumb in large sweeping motions against your upper hip. “And she’d want us to see where this goes.”

“Your mom was very smart,” you muse, putty in Bruce’s hands as he moves to the couch, tugging you into his lap.

“Did you love my mom enough to take her last name eventually?”

“This is more important – I love you enough.”

“Finally!” Alfred exclaims as he walks in with a tray of tea and biscuits. “It is about time you officially join the family and take the name.”

[iguessweallcrazyithinktho]

𝐂𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐞𝐫 • 𝐉𝐮𝐝𝐞 𝐁𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐚𝐦

💌𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Someone give me a plot where muse a happens to be someone famous (actor, athlete, etc) who has a bad reputation. Enters muse b who is a pr manager, who got hired to deal with them. The two gets off on the wrong foot, but thing is they’re stuck with each other until muse b’s contract end. They’re forced to be around one another and even have to share the same room in the hotel as they travel. One thing leads to the other and they begin developing feelings for one another. Muse a then finds out some horrible life changing news and cuts all ties with muse b, even getting them fired. However, one night muse b gets drunk and calls muse a telling them how much they miss them.

🏷️𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 4.8k(I'm sick)

🏷️𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fluff, angst

🏷️𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: Jude hates reader, a blonde in this, some guy named Jeff. Denise is apart of this

🏷️𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬: Jude Bellingham x PR manager reader

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: this took way to long to write lol enjoy

Jude Bellingham Masterlist

⏝꒷۰꒷⏝꒷۰꒷⏝꒷۰꒷⏝

Jude was a messy man.

He knew it. Everyone knew it and his team especially knew it.

After joining real Madrid Jude fame grew over night. Score after score he became one of the best players of this generation. With that came lots of girls which also came lots of gossip.

None of it was good for the young footballer. He had years ahead of him and needed to keep it all clean.

Luckily for Jude his team came up with a solution. They’re going to hire you.

You’re a pr manager. You were young and fresh into your career but nonetheless good at what you do. It was only fitting that they hired you to help keep Jude’s imagine clean before something happened.

Reader pov

I typed away at your computer, answering whatever email that came through. Today was the day I was meeting Jude to discuss my job with him. Nerves took over me, it wasn’t every day I met a famous footballer. Before this I only worked with smaller celebrities, never anyone big like him so I was nervous.

A knock at the door snapped me out of my typing. I cleared my throat before speaking.

“Come in please.”

The door swung open slowly revealing jude. The 6ft man walked into my office without uttering a word. He looked upset about something, but still butterflies filled my stomach for some odd reason.

“um.. sit please.” I pointed to the chair sitting across from me Jude did as I asked and sat down in the chair.

“so what are we doing?” he asked in a plain tone. I frowned. We’re not off to a good start it seems.

“hello to you too Mr. Bellingham.” I meet his brown eyes. “I was going to shake your hand, but it seems like we’ve already got to the point. I’m y/n and I’m your PR manager.”

“why do I need a PR manager? I can manage myself.” He said with a loud exhale. I swear I saw him roll his eyes at me, but I ignored it.

“ Mr. Bellingh-“

“stop calling me that. Call me Jude.” He snapped stopping me.

I put on a fake smile. I was getting frustrated with him and we haven’t even been talking for 5 minutes.

“Ok Jude, the reason I’m your PR manager is because you’re messy. You sleep with plenty of girls and they run to gossip blogs for their 5 minutes of fame and it’s ruining your image.”

I sat back in my chair, throwing the pencil on the table.

“Now if you don’t want me to help you keep your image clean then too bad because you’re stuck with me for 2 years due to a contract.”

Jude looked at me. His jaw clenched meaning I got under his skin. Good. If he wants to be an asshole than so will I. Two can play this game.

“fine. Are we done here?” clearly he was ready for this to be over and so did I to be honest.

“Yes, we are. It was nice to meet you. Have a good day.”

I picked up my pencil back up and began writing. Jude sucked his teeth and got up. He walked out of the room slamming the door a little bit. I rolled my eyes. He was going to be hell.

Jude’s pov

I hate her guts. I don’t know why my team even hired her. She was bitchy, something I didn’t like. I didn’t need anyone to keep my image clean. Quite frankly I was doing fine so what was the purpose of her.

I walked out of the building to the car where my mom sat. She noticed the shift in my mood the second I got in.

“how did it go?”

“I don’t like her.” I mumbled as I put on my seatbelt.

“why don’t you like her?” she asked as she put the car in drive. I sighed. “I don’t know. I’m just not feeling her vibe.”

She hummed and I looked at her. “maybe you’ll warm up to her.”

I doubt it.

Reader pov

Today was my first day working with Jude. I dreaded this. After how our first meeting went I wasn’t ready to deal with his sass.

I was going to the ballon d’or with him. I had to make sure he didn’t answer anything weird or meet up with anyone. Anyone being girls.

Under the request of Jude’s other team members I would be flying with him on a private jet.

I wasn’t too happy about this. If I could I would fly commercial, but I needed to act like I loved this.

I arrived at the airport way before everyone else did. As always my attention was very much on my laptop answering emails.

“You’re here early.” I heard behind me. I turned around to see Jude standing there, but not by himself, but with another woman who looked exactly like him.

“yes I am.” I shut my laptop and stood up. “its nice to meet you. I’m y/n.”

I stuck my hand out to the woman. She smiled and shook it. Finally someone nice.

“It’s nice to meet you. I’m Denise.” I smiled back at her. “ok the plane will be here in 20 minutes.” I say. I pick up my laptop sticking it in my laptop bag.

Those 20 minutes went by fast and before I knew it we were on the plane. I sat in the back and struck up a conversation with Denise. O I could feel Jude’s pissed off energy as I spoke with her, but that didn’t stop my conversation.

Jude’s pov

I hate watching her talk to my mom. Ever since we got on the plane they’ve been talking about something and I hated it. Hearing her laugh pissed me off and so did her voice.

I turned to my phone trying to block out their conversation, but her laughter cut through. I’m already sick of her and we haven’t even known each other for that long.

Eventually the plane landed and we were finally getting off. I was the first off and into the car that was going to drive us to the hotel. Later y/n and my mom climbed in.

The car ride was silent up until y/n spoke. “um so since we’re only getting two hotels, Denise and mark are of course sharing one and me and you Jude are sharing.”

I felt my blood boil when I heard what she said. Could this week get any worse.

“what? I’m not sharing a room with you. I’ll buy you your own room, I’m not sharing with you.” she was about to say something until my mom spoke.

“Jude, you’re sharing a room with her and that’s final. I don’t want to hear anymore complaining from you.”

I ran my hand down my face and sighed. “fine.”

Great now she has my mom taking her side. I swear I could see y/n smirking out the corner of my eyes which made it worse. Can’t wait for this to be over.

Y/n pov

Once we reached the hotel room Jude was off. I suspected it was because he was embarrassed after his mom yelled at him.

I grabbed a room key and made my way to the room where I will be staying with Jude.

When I unlocked the door I was faced with Jude.

His hands were on his hips as he stared at the bed. The bed!

There was only one fucking bed.

I dropped my bags as the door clicked behind me.

“this day of course can get worse. Not only am I sharing a room with you, I’m sharing a bed as well.” Jude mumbled.

He muttered a few curse words after and sat down in the chair in the corner of the room.

“I can go see if they can get us a two bed room.”

I turned around ready to leave, but Jude stopped me.

“don’t bother. This hotel is packed. There won’t be any rooms left.”

“ok.” I sighed. “Well I’ll try not to take to much space up. I’m small anyways.”

Jude didn’t say a word to me so I took this as a sign to not say anything else. It was late at night so I got myself ready for sleep. Getting my clothes, taking a quick shower and climbing in bed all while acting as if Jude doesn’t exist.

Jude entered the bathroom once I climbed under the covers. Sleep over took me before I got a chance to watch him come out.

The next day I woke up to my alarm.

I groaned, reaching over to the nightstand to turn it off. I was about to get up until I felt an arm around me. Pushing back the covers I looked at it.

It was Jude’s of course.

I turned around to see Jude passed out, Mouth open slightly. He was sleeping peacefully, but I refuse to let a jackass have a day of peace.

“get up! Balloon d’or day!”

I slapped his cheeks and he woke up with a jerk. I removed his arm from me climbing out of bed. I said nothing about the incident, but I’m sure he knows.

Jude’s pov

I can’t believe my arms were wrapped around y/n as I woke up. I swear I was on the other side of the bed when I went to sleep, but subconsciously I must have wrapped myself around her over the night.

I got up to get myself ready. Today was a special day: it was balloon d’or day.

Me and y/n traded places in the bathroom and that was the last time. I didn’t see her again till it was time to go to the awards.

“Are we ready to go?” she asked me but my attention wasn’t on her words. It was on her figure. She stood there in front of me in a black dress with light makeup. It was obvious she was trying not to stand out, but I couldn’t deny she looked stunning.

“jude.” She called out my name and I looked at her face that had a frown on it. “are you ready?”

I nodded. “yeah” I cleared my throat. “ I’m ready.”

She smiled awkwardly and turned around to walk out the hotel room. I sighed knowing she caught me staring.

Y/n pov

I caught Jude looking at me earlier and those butterflies filled my stomach as he did so. I hated my body for reacting like that.

I pushed it to the back of my mind . When we got the d’or ceremony Jude took some pictures for the ceremony. When he finished we made our way inside and separated for the rest of the evening.

Jude won a kopa trophy. I was happy for him no doubt. I let him know when we returned back to our shared hotel room.

“ congratulations.”

Jude sat his kopa on the desk in the room. “thanks.” He gave me a soft smile before pulling off his suit coat.

I sat down on the bed with a sigh, pulling off my heels. When they finally off I climbed back and laid on the perfectly made bed and shut my eyes.

I can hear Jude moving around the room, but I ignored him.

In the middle of me shutting my eyes I fell into a slumber. I didn’t realize until I felt someone shaking me.

I groaned, opening my eyes. It was Jude.

“what?”

“you can’t sleep on top of the blanket you know that right?” Jude said in an annoyed tone.

I sat up. “you don’t have to be an asshole about it.” I got up and pulled the blanket back as I heard Jude, who’s back is facing me, suck his teeth. I got under the blanket, still in my dress but I didn’t care. I was too tired to care.

Jude walked to his side of the bed. He was only wearing boxers, no shirt unlike last night. “where’s your shirt?”

Jude pulled back the cover and got under.

“Why are you worrying about it?”

It was now my turn to suck my teeth. I laid down turning my back to him and drifted off to sleep, ready for this day to be over.

Jude pov

I woke up this morning feeling great. Last night I won my kopa and I couldn’t be more excited about that.

I stretched ready to get up, but something heavy on my chest stopped me. I looked down to see y/n laying on my chest.

This is the second time we ended up tangled in each other arms. I couldn’t lie I love having someone cuddling up to me in the morning, but knowing it was y/n pissed me off despite my heart fluttering in my chest.

I shook y/n. “wake up.”

y/n opened her eyes. She looked over at absolutely disgusted. It took everything in me not to laugh at her face.

“time to get up. We got a flight back to Madrid.” I got up to go to the bathroom to brush my teeth. When I got out of the bathroom y/n was now up. She was in absolutely nothing seeing how her dress was now pooled on the floor.

Her back was facing me but that didn’t stop me from tearing my eyes away from her.

“Fuck y/n. At least tell me you’re changing.”

“sorry. That’s what happens when you share a room.” She mumbled as I Heard clothes being thrown around.

A brief moment of silence fell between the two of us before y/n spoke.

“you can look now Jude.”

Turning around she was now in some jeans and a shirt. A smirk painted her face making me roll my eyes and go back to what I was doing so we could leave sooner.

--

A few days have passed since we returned to Madrid. I went back to training and Y/n went back to working in her office where she said she wouldn’t bother me.

I was relieved. Tonight I was going to make the most of it.

I found myself inside the sweaty club with a drink in my hand. Several girls have already came up to me begging for my attention. I made small talk to be polite, but I didn’t give them much. They were gold digging and trying to sleep with me more than anything.

I’m not sure what’s gotten into me. Any other time I’d be excited to talk to a bunch of girls but not today.

Maybe it’s the alcohol in my system, but I couldn’t stop thinking about y/n.

Her tan skin, soft lips, and pretty eyes filled my head. I stared at her so much that every little detail about her was burned into my mind. She was like a fog I couldn’t clear from my head. I didn’t really hate her if I’m being completely honest. I was just an asshole the first day we met and haven’t changed because in my mom words I was stubborn.

As I sat staring off into space a girl came up and sat next to me. She was blonde, thin and had an ok face. She was ok looking, but I knew I wasn’t interested in her right away.

“How are you?” she asked, her flirty tone and toothy smile making me cringe. “ I’m good.” I brought my drink to my lips and drunk the rest of it. I hated that it was empty because I needed more.

For the next 15 minutes the girl tried to make conversation with me. It was clear she was trying to get in my pants. After a bit I was tired of listening to her. Without a word I got up and walked away. The blonde followed me making me roll my eyes. “where are you going?”

“ I’m going home.” I answered plainly. I stopped outside the club pulling out my phone ready to call a friend to pick me up.

I felt the girl hand trail up my arm. I looked at her with a disgusted look on my face. She really didn’t give up.

“I’m not interested darling. You can stop trying.”

She sighed, dropping her hand and rolling her eyes. “Fine, but you don’t know what you’re missing out on.”

She walked away with a dramatic stomp. I couldn’t help but laugh at how stupid it looked.

-

Y/n pov

My phone going off woke me from my beautiful slumber. I groaned reaching over and picking it up.

“hello?”

“y/n, it’s Jude.”

I sat up rubbing my eyes. “what do you want Bellingham?”

There was a brief silence on the other end before Jude spoke. “yesterday I went out to the club and a girl was trying to get my attention, but I wouldn’t let her. Moral of the story is someone took a picture of me and her and now its all over the internet.”

When Jude finished I groan. “oh my God. Ok I’m on it give me a few hours.”

I hung up the phone getting to work.

After two hours I did everything I could. Getting some of the pictures taken down and an article out stating he didn’t know that girl and left Alone that night.

The next time my phone rung it was of course Jude.

“yes Bellingham?”

“thank you for that. I didn’t think you were going to be able to do much.”

I scuffed. “I feel insulted that you think I wouldn’t be able to do anything. It’s my job, I’ll find a way.”

I heard Jude laugh on the other end making me smile.

“anything else you need Bellingham?” I asked. My voice softer than ever.

“yeah.” “what would that be?”

“call me Jude, darling.”

I felt butterflies fill my stomach at the name he gave me. “ok Jude.”

Jude POV

I feel good today. The day before, y/n fixed an issue I had. I don’t know why I thought I didn’t need a PR manager because I totally do.

We had a match today and I thought I’d repay her by inviting her to the game.

“you’re wearing my jersey?” I asked when I walked up to y/n and my mom. She turned around.

“Yeah.” She looked down at it “I was planning on wearing the other teams jersey, but I decided to be nice since you invited me.”

I rolled my eyes making her laugh. After greeting my mom I said my goodbyes and went to go get ready to play.

An hour later I was on the pitch chasing the ball. 50 minutes or so nothing went on until I somehow found the ball in the back of the net.

The crowd interrupted into a cheer, I ran to the edge of the field throwing my arms wide to celebrate, soaking in the love I was receiving.

When the game ended the team went to applauded the crowd. I found myself finding my mom in the stands. I waved to her earning a wave back. I see y/n standing there smiling at our interaction. I smiled seeing her standing there with my mom. She just fits there.

After the game I was reunited with them. I offered y/n to come with us to dinner but she passed up on it saying she had work to finish, so here me and my mom are on our way my ourselves.

“you like her don’t you?”

My mom asked out of nowhere in the car.

“what?” “I see the way you look at her, you like her.”

“I don’t.” I scrunched up my face. My mom laughed. “sure.”

Maybe she was right. The past few days a lot changed. The feelings I had for her was confusing. I never felt this way for anyone. This must be what liking someone felt like. Boy was I scared.

-

After dinner I made my way home. I was exhausted and ready to go to sleep.

When I got in bed I grabbed my phone and logged into Twitter. The first thing I see is a post about y/n. Everyone asking who she was. Lots of people speculated that she was my girlfriend and many said she was no one which isn’t exactly a lie.

I didn’t expect this to happen, but I hoped when she woke up the next morning she would fix it.

Y/n POV

I woke up to my notifications going off. Great what could it be this time I thought to myself.

I grabbed my phone to see what seemed like a million request to my Instagram. “what the fuck!”

I opened my phone to see why this was. The first thing I notice is a text from Jude.

I’m sorry  please be able to fix it

I’m confused so I opened Twitter. My face was plastered all over the app. It was because of yesterday’s game. They thought I was Jude’s girlfriend.

I cursed and pulled back the blanket hoping I could fix this before it got worse.

After an hour I couldn’t fix it. It was clear the damage was already done. I sat defeated. This was the worse thing that could happen to me. Not only did people know who I was but I was being harassed because they thought I was Jude’s girlfriend.

My phone rung, but I couldn’t bring myself to pick it up.. not right now.

I didn’t know what I was going to do. With my job being me following Jude around I knew this wouldn’t go well. His fangirls would always think we’re dating and will harass me. I knew I couldn’t work with Jude anymore for my sanity.

Jude POV

I tried to call y/n, but she didn’t pick up. She saw my text which meant she knew what was going on.

I feel bad. All I wanted was to repay her for fixing my problem, but ended up with an even bigger problem. If she’s pissed at me I wouldn’t be mad about it.

A few hours passed and y/n still hasn’t called or picked up any of my calls. I grew worried. I tried calling my other team members to see what they knew what was going on.

“jude?” my team member Jeff said what he picked up. Before I could say anything else he spoke before me.

“y/n quit.”

My heart dropped into my stomach. “what?”

“yeah she said she didn’t want to make your career worse. I tried to make her stay, but it didn’t work.”

I shook my head, pitching the bridge of my nose.

I hung up the phone and tried to calling y/n again. When she didn’t pick up I texted her, but still it was no use.

“fuck!”

I threw my phone on the bed beside me.

“What’s wrong Jude?” my mom voice filled my ears. I didn’t look up at her. I just spoke. “y/n quit.”

“oh honey I’m sorry. Was it because of yesterday?”

I nodded. “yeah. Everyone thought we were dating. I thought she’ll be able to fix it, but she couldn’t. Now she won’t pick up my calls.”

“give her some time.” I looked up at my mom. “she might need some time right now. It’s all a lot.”

She was right so that’s what I did.

A few days have passed since I last talk to y/n. I missed her badly I couldn’t lie. I can’t believe someone I hated so badly at first, I was now missing.

-

My friends invited me to the club tonight to clear my mind. I had several drinks with the intention of getting wasted and it worked. An hour later and I was drunk.

Of course the person who clouds my mind happens to be y/n. I missed her, kind of yearned for her. I miss annoying her. I needed to get her back.

I pulled out my phone finding y/n name in my contacts. The phone rung 2 times before y/n picked up.

“y/n?” I slurred out.

Y/n POV

The song of booming music on the other end of the call made me wince. “Jude, why are you calling me? Where are you?”

This was the first time I answered Jude’s call in two weeks and I didn’t expect it to be loud on the other end.

“y/n, I miss you.” I heard Jude say on the other end.

“Jude are you drunk?”

The sound of a woman voice and Jude shouting out no over the music flooded through the phone. A minute passed before it was quiet on the other side. He must be outside now I thought.

“sorry it was loud.”

“Jude where are you?” I grew concerned. He sounded extremely intoxicated and I’m sure he wasn’t aware of shit when he was drunk. “ I’m going to pick you up.”

I grabbed my keys and after Jude told me his location I drove there. 10 minutes later I spotted him outside the club.

A bunch of girls surrounded him making me roll my eyes. I Parked my car and got out.

“jude.” At the sound of my voice Jude turned to me. “sorry ladies. My ride is here.”

Those girls watched as Jude quickly walked away to my car, getting into the passenger seat. I got back into the driver’s seat and drove off before anyone could get a picture.

“Why’d you pick me up?” Jude asked as he laid back against the seat. “I just wanted to make sure you got back safely, that’s all.”

Jude turned his head looking at me. My breath hitched, but I didn’t look over at him.

“I said I missed you.”

I bit the inside of my cheek. “I know I heard you.”

“why did you leave y/n?”

I sighed. “Jude, we’re at your house.” I parked the car expecting him to get out.

“y/n, talk to me baby.” Jude turned my face with his thumb forcing me to look his way. My stomach interrupted in butterflies at his action and words.

“I left because I don’t want to ruin your career and mines. I have to follow everywhere and that means those fan girls would think I’m dating you and I’m going to get harassed every time. I’m not ready for. They already found my Instagram and started dming me telling me I’m ugly.” I ran my hand over my face. “so yeah that’s why I left.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know.” Jude commented.

“Its ok-“

“no it’s not. I should have thought about this before inviting you. I knew my fans were cry but I didn’t expect them to find you so I’m sorry.”

“I know you are Jude and it’s ok. I promise.” I looked at Jude and smiled softly.

“You’re going to come back right?”

I laughed. “is that what you want so badly?”

Jude nodded. “more than anything.”

“Ok fine. I’ll see if I can comeback.”

Jude smiled. “perfect. thank you for the ride by the way. I’m happy to see you again.”

Jude hugged me once he unbuckled his seatbelt. If this was the first few days of meeting Jude I would have pulled away from him, but it wasn’t. I found myself wrapping my arms around him shocking myself.

When Jude pulled away his face was inches away from mine. His eyes fell to my lips. My heart thumped in my chest at the action.

“Can I kiss you?” Jude asked at a whispered. I nodded slightly.

Jude kissed me seconds later and I swear my heart stopped in my chest for a second.

His lips so soft and his tongue even softer when he slipped It into my mouth chasing mine.

He pulled away and kissed my cheek.

“ok I’m going to go now.” Jude pulled away and opened the door as I sat their flustered.

“have a good night love.” Jude Shut the door walking to his house. I exhaled.

“good night Jude.”

--

Tell me what else to write since I don't have ideas for some reason. Jude, Dominik, Trent, Ruben, and kylian

[nickfowlerrr]

the seven heavenly virtues: charity, chastity, diligence, humility, kindness, patience, and temperance.

the seven deadly sins: envy, gluttony, greed, lust, pride, sloth, and wrath.

info and guidelines below the cut.

the idea is to pick either a sin or a virtue (or both) to use for your fic, or drabble, or moodboard, etc. you're welcome to pick more than one if you'd like and use them as inspo any way you please.

here's a wheel decide for the sins if you want help choosing. and one for the virtues.

submissions are, of course, open to dark and non dark characters/readers, just please make sure to properly tag your posts.

smut, fluff, angst, all is welcome! and any non writers who want to participate are free to.

moodboards, edits, however you’d like to join in, please do!

this is not limited to only characters that i write for. you can use any marvel character, any sebastian stan character, any henry cavill character, or any chris evans character. and if there's someone in particular you have in mind that isn't included in this, just lmk! i’d be more than happy to have this open to other actors/actresses/fandoms, i just request no RPFs, please. :)

i feel like this goes without saying, but i'll say it anyway, no minors allowed.

18+ only (21+ preferred).

really the only hard limits are involving underage characters/readers. i can't stop you from writing what you want to write, but it will not be included in the masterlist and will not be read or reblogged by me.

no word minimums or limits but please add a "keep reading" break on longer works.

feel free to write for more than one character in a fic if you want, and multiple submissions are fine, too.

the deadline for this is going to be a bit far out because i know i take ages to write lol. deadline will be november 14th, 2023.

you of course can start posting anytime! a masterlist will be made once there are five submissions shared and i will add from there as (if) there are more.

and please tag me in your posts and use the hashtags “#the seven writing event” or “#nickfowlerrr’s writing event” when you upload your submissions.

i don't have a wide reach so i don't see this having much traction lol but i'd love to see what people come up with! so please participate if you feel so inclined. 🖤

this is my first writing event and i feel like i’m missing information so if you have any questions please feel free to send me a message! 🩵

[shawnxstyles]

come back…be here

DATE: JANUARY 11, 2023

summary: tom has to film a movie in london while you have to stay and work in new york. the distance drains you both, craving to be closer than a phone call. once the challenges subside, you’re in his arms and everything feels like home again.

request: yes!! read this for more information!

song: Come Back… Be Here- taylorrr / Car’s Outside- james arthur

words: 4.1k

warnings: heavy on angst!!, fluff, SMUT (m-receiving [oral], f- receiving [fingering], unprotected sex [two positions], dirty talk, praise kink), little language, and pining. (dramatic lol)

note: i used a quote from cherry because it’s one of my favorite lines with tom and i think it would be perfect here. this is very dramatic, but i don’t care :D #angsty

—

NEW YORK

The sun peeks out from the curtains, alerting your body to wake up. The rays cause your weary eyes to squint as you push yourself up from the bed. You breathe softly in the silence of your own presence. Tilting your head, you gaze at the emptiness that lies in bed next to you. You frown when you feel a pang of pining form in your chest. Ruefully, you untuck yourself from the covers, feeling colder than you did yesterday. And the day before that. And the week before last. It felt like the longest two weeks of your life and you still had two more to go.

Tom had gone filming in London for a movie he was extremely excited about. You knew he had no choice: it was going to happen eventually. But that didn’t make the goodbyes any easier. And it felt harder this time.

This wasn’t your first rodeo being a famous actor’s girlfriend; Tom’s left to film a variety of movies while you were together. The longest he’s ever been gone for was two weeks without a break, and that was a struggle.

It was a tradition for you two to call each other every night, even if you were exhausted from a long day and he was tired from filming. You imagined the way his lips spoke I love you when you talked on a normal phone call, but it would never amount to him physically whispering softly in your ear.

You wanted to go with him, you really did. You’ve been to London countless times to be with his family, so it wouldn’t have been a big deal. However, you were battling for a higher position at work and your absence for a sudden vacation wouldn’t make you look too good.

Tom had convinced you to stay, knowing how important your job is to you. In reality, you didn’t need a job if you were going to spend the rest of your life with a Hollywood actor, but you both knew that wouldn’t stop your independence from flourishing. You loved being with Tom because he encouraged you to not only be better, but to be great, and to be you. His faith in you has gotten you through some of the toughest moments of your life. Tom could say the same for you. He admired your hard work and independence so much that it motivated him. You were the brightest light in his life that saved him from any harmful darkness.

You didn’t have a doubt in your mind that you loved each other. You only fell harder every day.

As you sourly complete your morning routine in empty silence, you get dressed in your work clothes before heading out the door. Work helped distract the depressing yearning in your chest as you competed for the promotion. The days felt slower the more that passed, the desire to stay focused leaving your mind with the lack of motivation. You didn’t rely on Tom’s ability to encourage you, but God, did it help. His presence alone was graceful and endearing. He could convince you to run a marathon at midnight if he simply gave you those adorable puppy eyes that make you fold every time.

Every night, you leave work at the same time, rarely staying late. Every night, you do your nightly routine after a quick shower. Sometimes, you added a good cry because you just needed to cry. But every night for the past two weeks, you lie in bed with heavy-weight eyelids as you wait for a phone call.

—

LONDON

For most of his scenes, Tom got to wear a watch. It was hard for him not to avert his eyes to the time as he waited for the film to wrap up for the day. If he didn’t get to wear a watch, he would ponder at the sun’s angles to determine how long it would be until nightfall. When the sun would dip just below the hills, he knew he was a day closer to being home to you.

He packed the small carry-on he brought to set and quickly left with short goodbyes to the crew and his cast mates. Tom was staying at his parents’ house, since it was close to where the movie was being shot. He tried not to be loud when he trudged through the dark hallways of the house, feet padding the sleek, wooden floors.

His body collapses on the creaky bed, drained from constantly missing you. Yes, his job was physically and mentally demanding; some roles took him months to prepare for, like Cherry. But he swears your absence makes his heart beat slower, like he’s deliberately dying without being with you. It was killing him to be hundreds of miles away from you for so long without a break.

Tom’s muscles and brain scream at him to close his eyes just for a moment to rest, but he refuses. He hasn’t gotten any decent sleep since he’s left your side, and he hopes it doesn’t affect his acting. He silently showers, cleaning the work of today off of him. Painfully, he continues to resist the urge to consume himself in his duvet, eyes fluttering and nearly rolling backwards. The electronic vibration in his hand jolts an ounce of energy in his muscles, allowing him to answer before he passes clean out.

—

NEW YORK

“Hey,” You breathe out weakly, eyes sorrowful. You attempt a smile, but it’s too weary. Your face feels too heavy to make such a joyful expression.

“Hey, baby,” Tom croaks with his cheek squished against a pillow. His voice was gravelly and shushed, his eyes mostly closed, even as your face was present in front of him. All he needs is your voice, the perfect lullaby that can send him straight to sleep.

“I miss you,” Lip quivering as you sigh the words. Your teeth clench as you hold back the sudden urge to cry. You take the rest of any energy you had left to maintain your emotions, so Tom doesn’t worry too much. You both know how badly you miss one another, but Tom doesn’t need to know that you’ve been crying alone. “a lot.”

He would drop everything and fly home just to wipe away your tears.

“I miss you so goddamn much, baby,” His hand rubs over his weary eyes, trying to focus on you instead of the nauseated need to sleep. “Wish I could hold you.”

“Wish I could touch you,” Breathing unevenly, you bite your lip to contain the crying inside of you.

“Just a little longer, darling,” He sighs as a large yawn arises in his throat.

“You’re so tired, baby. You need to rest,” You almost break at his fatigued and fragile state, body demanding sleep. It was almost eight o’clock in New York, meaning it was almost one A.M. in London. He most likely wrapped up in the evening, so he must have stayed up until you were off of work to talk. Tom’s done that every night since he’s left, and your heart aches even more.

“Not yet. Just a little longer, love,” He repeats similarly, another yawn summoning from him as his head nudges deeper into his pillow like a sleepy child. He imagined the pillow to be your lap or your chest, so his body would give in to the rejected feeling of the fabric.

Although you were miles away, the silence was comfortable enough because he knew you were there, just not completely.

“Goodnight, Tom,” You whispered into the microphone, wishing you could caress the soft, damp curls on his forehead until he drifted peacefully to dreamland. But watching him fall into a much needed sleep over FaceTime was the best you could get right now. “I love you. So much.”

“Goodnight, m’angel,” Tom mumbles groggily and quietly. “I love you too.”

Soft snores wheezed from his thin lips, making your lips curl up the slightest as you admire him. Your heart was pained to see him so exhausted. It saddened you so much that a tear finally slipped from your eye and onto your pillowcase, leaving a familiar stain in the fabric. With one last look at him through your now glossy eyes, you sniffle quietly and end the call.

A few more silent tears fall from your cheeks as you turn off your bedside lamp. You replay his words in your head like your favorite song to help you slowly coast to an empty sleep.

Your heart chases the hundreds of miles separating you, yearning for your boyfriend to come back and be here.

—

TWO WEEKS LATER, NEW YORK

Your head nearly falls on your laptop from exhaustion. Your eyes would start to roll to the back of your head if you didn’t shake your body awake. You rub your eyes as you glance at the time. According to Tom, his flight should have landed by now and he should be on his way home. Finally.

However, this was the worst day for him to come back because you had to stay late at work preparing last-minute charts and emails. Usually, all of that could wait for the following day because working on an empty tank never did you any good. But since the promotion announcement would be soon, you had to be two steps ahead of your competitors. Plus, you had tomorrow off, so you had to get double the work done today.

Once you finish your current assignment, you delicately close the laptop and shut off your monitor. Flicking off the lights in your office, you drop your phone in your bag without glancing at it.

Weariness blurred your vision, and it felt unsafe to drive in such a tired state. The only thing keeping you awake was that Tom would be there not long after you, and you would finally get to sleep in his arms. If you weren’t so tired, maybe you would leap into his arms like the movies, but Lord knows you could barely walk.

You unlock the front door to a dull house; quiet, cold, and dark. You slip off your shoes and trudge up the small set of stairs into your bedroom. You repeat the same routine as you would if you were alone, but this time you knew he would be coming home.

When you’re comfortable in your pajamas, you poorly make the bed, so it looks more appealing than the hot-mess you’ve been laying in for the past month. Once you’re settled, you peer at the clock on your bedside table, wondering why he hasn’t made it home yet.

Grabbing your phone for the first time since this morning, you turn it on and crinkle your eyebrows at Tom’s newest messages.

T: Lovie my flight got delayed.

T: Hey baby. Can’t wait to see you. Getting on now.

T: Halfway home baby. Text me when you’re home x

You frown at the words, sighing heavily when looking at the time stamps. His last text was from the early evening. You huff, upset at yourself for being too hypnotized in your work to pay attention to your boyfriend coming home. Based on his texts, he should be home in an hour at best. You place your phone to your chest and close your eyes as you slide down your headboard until your head lays flat on the pillow. You fight the urge for as long as you can, but sleep holds you captive until you're consumed in it.

—

NEW YORK

Tom pushes through the door rolling his two suitcases and carrying his backpack on his shoulders. His limbs ache as he tramps up the stairs, the weight of his exhaustion yanking him toward the floor. Your car was in the driveway, so he’s sure that you were home even if the house is quiet. The bedroom door is cracked, so he trudged inside and plopped his baggage on the floor. He finally glances at your figure, motionless and allayed as your quiet breathing fills the emptiness.

He stalks over to your side, gazing at the sleeping beauty with a sigh. Tom’s rough hands delicately whisk your hair from your face before he places a tender kiss to your forehead. Your breathing falters and your eyelashes flutter, but you stay sound asleep. Tom gets ready for bed before slipping in right beside you.

Tom wraps a secure arm around your waist and subtly tugs you closer, bodies already warmer from the proximity. An inch of a smile manages to crawl up his lips even as tired as he is. His weight sinks further into the mattress as fatigue overtakes him.

A few hours later, you awake in the middle of the night with a muscular arm snug around your waist. Your heart jumps in excitement and you attempt to turn around, but realize that he’s probably asleep for the first time in a while. It’s hard to relax, while you try to rest knowing that Tom is finally home again.

You were in his arms and that’s all that mattered.

—

HOME

The sun shines brightly behind the curtains, but more graceful than it had been the past month. The sound of birds joyfully chirping and a small breeze alarm you peacefully to awaken. Your brain and body are quick to notice the heavy arm encompassing you, feeling its weight with every breath you take. You smile, but hold it back, saving all of your exuberance for Tom. You shift around anxiously excited, gazing lovingly at his adorable face; mouth slightly opened, crinkled eyes, and his cute nose. He was here, he was really here.

Without resisting, you kiss his cheek. And then his jaw. And then his neck. And then his bare shoulder as you remove his arm from you. And then his naked chest, sending little shockwaves of electricity through his body. You wanted to love him all over because of how estatic you were, and how much you missed him.

Tom inhales sharply, sensing your actions and wakes up blissfully. Eyes fluttering, he peers down at the top of your head kissing and caressing down his torso.

“Love,” He croaks groggily, voice crackly and warm like a burning fireplace. His hand pets your hair, smoothing it gently as you look up toward him. You don’t say a word, only a huge grin before you plant your lips onto his.

Both of your hearts overflow with much needed attention and love as your lips move in flawless sync. Slowly and passionately, your mouths mold together like missing pieces of a puzzle finally connecting. Your body collapses on his as your hands intertwine with his brown curls, elbows on either side of his head. His strong hands remain locked on your jaw, thumbs massaging the apple of your cheeks. For a breath, you painfully pull yourself back as you both gasp for air. Forehead to forehead, you listen to the panting and hearts beating.

“You’re back,” You smile shyly, happiness sparkling in your irises like a cartoon.

“I am, darling. Did you miss me?” He jokes, knowing you missed each other so crazily you couldn’t act normal. You two were so connected, being apart meant missing the other half of you. You huff a laugh and roll your eyes before kissing him greedily again.

“So much. I missed you so much,” You lead the kiss down to his jaw, sucking softly as he smiles. “Let me show you how much.”

His smile curls higher as you crawl down his body. Your sweet kisses leave invisible tattoos on his skin, making him sigh from how much he missed this. From how much he missed you. You twiddle with the waistband of his boxers until he persists you continue, so you do.

Now completely naked, his morning glory stands hard with an ounce of pre-cum at the tip. You rub the juices around his tip, causing him to hiss. Saliva runs down the length of his cock as your hand wraps around him. You stroke up and down deliberately, Tom’s breathing heaving as you gradually pick up your pace.

Your mouth hovers over the head before you lower yourself on to it. He moans hoarsely, throat raspy with lust. Your tongue glides along his prominent veins, exploring every inch that could fit in your mouth until his slit tickled the back of your throat. Your hand strokes consistently as your head continues to bob for his pleasure. Your panties dampen at his guttural noises, a rough hand delicately lacing in your hair. He resists the urge to push you lower as he holds onto you.

“Fuck, Y/N. Missed that mouth. Missed—fuck— you,” He grunts when you gag subtly, his abs tensing. Your nails scratch his muscular thighs, making his legs contract as his high approaches him. Although he’s so close, he halts your movements, so he doesn’t explode in your mouth. “Don’t want to come yet.” He grumbles weakly.

Your mouth pops off of him as drool dribbles down your chin. Your hand continues to lightly stroke him as he wipes it away. He crashes his lips to yours before flipping you over, never breaking the kiss.

“Now, can I show you how much I missed my girl? My sweet girl,” He trails down your neck, sucking love bites under your ear. You whimper in response to his words, hands creeping up his bare back for grip.

Once your shirt and panties are discarded, Tom’s fingers dance around your hips playfully as you widen your legs welcomingly. Arousal glistens in the sunlight like magic, lust consuming his eyes at the sight of your soaking slit. Knuckles brushing your clit, he rubs gently, eliciting a needy moan from you. Knowing how much time you two have been apart, he doesn’t waste time slipping a finger easily into you. You gasp, clenching around him instantly.

“So wet for me. Guess you really did miss me,” He grins, adding another finger into your tight cunt as your eyes squeeze shut. One hand rests on your knee as he pecks your stomach, thrusting and curling his thick fingers in you. His thumb circulates your aching clit, relieving some of the consistent throbbing with the rough texture. “Love your cunt. Always so tight for me.”

“God, Tom,” You wheeze at his vulgar words with such a loving tone, clit pulsating despite his constant pressure on it. His voice with his choice of words always got you off because he always knew what to say.

“Love your legs. Love your breasts,” His free hand makes its way up your body until his fingers are twisting the hard bud. You inhale sharply at the sensation, back beginning to arch. He leaves your breasts neglected and caresses your lust-filled face. “Love your lips,” He pecks them softly. “Love your eyes. Let me see them.”

You open your eyes as his fingers plunge deeper into you causing a trembling moan to fall out. His chestnut eyes admire your expression as you wither gracefully away from his longed touch. Clenching desperately around him, your core contracts and you bite your lip as the sensation grows on you.

“I-I don’t want to come yet, either,” You whine, strangled by overwhelming pleasure. Tom obeys and slowly removes his fingers from you. You feel empty, but you know you won’t for long once his cock is deep inside of you.

Tom pumps himself a few times, tip rosy and neglected, before teasingly spreading your shiny arousal around your folds. Your hands intertwine around his neck as he slides his length inside.

Shuddering moans and stillness are found in you both, too overwhelmed by the moment. Tom forces himself to move as your pussy contracts around his member dangerously tight. His thrusts are steady and deep, so deep, there wasn’t a part inside he wasn’t hitting. Every inch of you felt full after being so empty for so long.

A sweet, little cry releases from you as his pace picks up, his cock becoming consumed by your velvety walls.

“You’re so tight, lovie,” He achingly groans. With your constant mewls in the air and cunt squeezing him heavenly, he steadies at a pace that is perfect for you both.

Your thumb caresses his face lovingly as your legs wrap around him to push him deeper. Your eyes connect as passion, lust, and love flow inbetween you. In this moment, you feel your souls let go of any past pain or suffering and allow themselves to give in to each other. At this moment, you feel more entwined with Tom than ever before. For a moment, you forget about everything else in the whole world besides the two halves of the same soul fusing together again.

You pull your eyes away subconsciously as your stomach contracts and cunt flutters around his cock. Back arching and nails digging into his shoulders, you pant and whine at his depth while he whispers sweet nothings in your ear.

“You’re so deep,” You moan as your body becomes tense and your orgasm builds quickly. Tom wants this to last. He never wants to have to leave you ever again.

“I know. Taking me so well, pretty girl,” Raspy and gravelly, his voice sends you over the edge. You silently scream, your stomach arching to his chest as you soar up high, just to crash hard. His lips trail along your neck as you wind down, body trembling in unbelievable pleasure.

Tom hasn’t come yet and you secretly love riding him, and you know that’s one of his favorites. You bite your lip at the thought.

“Can I ride you?” You whisper, fingers dancing in his curly locks. He groans at your sweet, dirty words before flipping you over again with ease. His body lays flat on the bed while you rock slowly on his cock. Tom’s abs visibly contract from the intensity and satisfaction of this position. You feel slick around his cock at his chiseled figure, so you run a curious hand over his torso. “Your muscles are so… I love them.”

“I love that you love them, baby,” A strained whine releases from his throat as the tip of his cock twitches inside of you. “What else do you love?” His fingers fondle with the supple skin on your hips.

Tom joked a lot about his body, but in reality, he loved it when you’d praised his muscles, hands, legs, face— it made him feral to see you fawn over him.

“I-I love your arms. So strong, always protecting me,” You pant heavily, thighs burning deliciously at the tedious action of swaying back and forth. You roll your hips, eliciting a sharp noise from Tom as his grip on you tightens. “Love your hands. So big and rough.”

You continue a list of your favorite physical parts about him as he groans and moans from your compliments. His grasp on you is dangerous, his length ticking as he tries to hold off.

“D’want me to come in you? So you can be full of me?”

“Yes, yes. Want to be full of you forever,” You mewl, clenching around him as another mind-blowing orgasm hits you. At your request, Tom chokes a moan before his cum spurts into you furiously, muscles spasming and aching. Euphoric stars haze over your visions, blissed-out for your minds.

You collapse gently onto his body as you rest your head in the cradle of his neck. Unsteady breaths and racing hearts echo throughout the morning aroma of sex. The explosive beats of his heart fill your ears as your fingers trace feather-like on his pale skin. His hand smooths fondly over your frizzy hair and along your back over and over until you feel sleepy again.

“I missed you, Tom,” You whisper in the delicate, comfortable silence.

“I missed you, angel,” Tom hums as your body moves to the rise and fall of his breathing. Your eyes flutter majestically closed, sleepy like the beauty you are. “I couldn’t sleep without you.”

Reopening your eyes, you plant an arm on his chest and lay your chin on your hand. Pity floats in your eyes, remembering how tired he was on each phone call. He stares down at you through your lashes as the back of his head rests on his own hand.

“I couldn’t sleep either. It was torture,” You half joke, but were also serious because it definitely felt like some type of torture. “I know you just got back, but I’m kind of sleepy now.”

“Then let’s sleep. For the first real time in a month,” Tom brushes some stray hairs away from your eyes, so he could see the remarkable canvas of your orbs. You smile softly in affirmation, lifting yourself up to kiss his lips. It’s not long, but it’s tender and says I love you in a million different ways.

You slide off of his body and bask in his warmth as his arms wrap snugly around you. Back to his chest, you feel protected, safe, and comfortable for the first time in a month. Your hearts find the perfect beat for you both until they’re in beautiful sync.

As the sun rises higher into the late morning, Tom and you fall deeply asleep within the comfort of each other. He was finally home again, which means so were you.

—

i feel like i’m actually not bad at writing angst? the key is to make it very dramatic… i think.

[joshs-big-toe]

CAN YOU PLZ DO DOM! MIKE IM BEGGING

Hey guys, this request basically gave me free rein to do whatever I want, so please enjoy this toe-curling story I write here. This is going to be a longer one (word count: 4,919) so sit back and enjoy. This is basically pure smut so if you don’t want that, keep scrolling :) (also, Abby is not relevant in this story, so just pretend she is staying the week at a friend’s house if that’s something you're concerned about I guess lol)

Cw: heavy smut, dom! Mike, sub fem! Reader, deprivation, edging, jealous mike, possessive mike, sweet mike, dirty talk, HELLA EDGING, slight degradation, slight praise, mentions of CONSENTUAL somnophelia, slight fluff toward the end

Mike Schmidt, your boyfriend, supported your acting career with his entire being. Actuality, he was damn proud of you. No matter the role, he was on board, flooding you with support and affirmations. However, you had just gotten a role, your dream role, in this Blumhouse film, starring alongside an actor you loved: Evan Peters. You have loved Evan Peters since you saw him in Kick-Ass. When you got your script, you read through it. The storyline was amazing, but there was a lot of sex between you and Evan’s character. For the first time, you didn’t want to tell Mike about a role. You knew Mike more than likely would support your decision to take on this role, but nervousness filled you. Before you told Mike, you decided you wanted to think about it, hiding your script under your bed. Soon enough, the thought of the script slipped your mind and you moved on with your day. The day consisted of a tabling, meeting Evan for the first time, and getting to know the cast and directors better. It was almost time for Mike to go to work when you finally got home. You sighed, putting your bag on the table by the door after closing it behind you. “Mike, love, I’m home.” Silence. You were confused, his shift at the Pizzaria didn’t start until midnight. It was only 11:00 pm. “Mike?” You strolled past the living room into your room, seeing Mike on the floor, holding your script.

He looked up at you, a mix of sadness and anger filling his eyes. “What is this, y/n?” You were speechless, mouth hanging open slightly.

Your mouth opened slightly, trying to come up with what to say. “Mike, um, it's just-“

He cut you off. “When were you going to tell me about this? Clearly, you’ve had this for a couple of days now.” His voice was monotone, showing clear frustration.

“I was going to tell you,” you mumbled.

“Why didn’t you?” He set the script down on the ground.

“I was nervous, Mike. I didn’t want you to get upset.”

“I wouldn’t have been upset if you would’ve just told me. Now I just feel like you lied to me, y/n.” He flipped the pages. “And of course Evan Peters. Really?” I nodded, feeling guilty for not telling him. Now keep in mind, Mike was never rude or controlling when it came to you, he just was extremely attached. He typically wouldn’t mind sex scenes, but he knew about your love for Evan, and immediately he was filled with jealousy.

“It's not real sex, Mike.” You said, hiding the redness that filled your face. He put his face in his hands, groaning.

“That’s not the point, y/n. The point is, you felt the need to hide this shit from me.” He looked down at his watch. “I have to go to work, this,” he holds up the script, “is coming with me.” He stood up, loading his pockets with his essentials and then grabbing highlighters, note tabs, and sticky notes from your desk drawer. Without a word, he kissed your cheek and left your room. His skin was hot against yours, making your body shudder. You stood there, unsure of how to even react. You heard the door shutting and the lock click as Mike left. You knew you were fucked, that you'd be in the doghouse tomorrow. Why did he want my script, you thought to yourself. You began to overthink the whole situation, making it difficult for you to fall asleep. You lay on your bed, tossing and turning. You texted Mike, no answer. You had no idea how long it had been before you heard your phone ding. It was Mike.

Mike: I hate how you kept that from me, not only is it one scene, but three? Multiple make-out scenes. Nobody else but me should be fucking touching you like that. All I can imagine is that angry sex scene, fuck y/n people are going to see you, hear you make the sounds only I can hear.

You read the text over and over again, slightly turned on by the jealousy but guilt-ridden. You knew you should’ve just told him. After a few seconds, your phone let out a ding again. You look down, seeing a video. You clicked on it, blackness filling the screen at first. You heard soft grunts and whimpers coming from the other side. Eventually, an image came into view making your hand fly to your mouth. The video consisted of him fucking his hand in the bathroom, rubbing his dick in a rough manner. You couldn’t make out what he was saying except for an exasperated ‘Is this what you fucking wanted?’  You felt an immediate heat pooling between your legs at the sight, at his moans and whimpers and unintelligible grumbles across the screen. Your body buzzed, you had never seen anything hotter in your life. Fuck. You knew this was the start of something you didn’t know if you were worried about or extremely excited about. He continued to write messages to you throughout the night. ‘I know you’re ready to take me. You’re such a naughty girl. You’re going to listen to me like the slut you are.’ You knew you weren’t going to sleep tonight, so you decided to go to your desk and work on some of the scoring work for the movie. Your mind is so stuck on the video, that you didn’t notice Mike walking into the house before he dropped the script onto your keyboard. He is home early. He kissed your neck, running his mouth down it before whispering, “I’m gonna show you, think about what you’ve done,” before mumbling something about a shower and disappearing again.

Looking back down at the script, you saw that it was annotated. Sticky tabs marking certain pages, as well as color-coordinated highlighted marks. You flicked through the script, realizing it was every single bit of dirty dialogue, make-out, and sex scene. On the back page, you noticed a sticky note that decoded his highlights. There was a yellow highlight mark, an orange highlight mark, and a pink highlight mark. The yellow one read ‘tonight’, the orange one read ‘tomorrow’, and the pink one read ‘day after tomorrow’. Fuck.

The First Night

Mike came out of the shower, only boxers covering him. His wet hair stuck to his forehead, drops of water slid down his chest. You stared at him, a deep red covering your cheeks. “Did you think about it?” You nodded, barely visible.

“Yes, Mike, I am so sorry I didn’t-“ He cut you off with a ‘tsk’ and shook his head.

“You need to learn your lines, don’t you? Knees, now.” This wasn’t him asking, you knew he was serious. He grabbed the script on his way to the bed, sitting on the edge of it. You comply to his demand, getting on your knees and facing him. He handed you the script, repeating, “You need to learn your lines. So read them. The ones highlighted in yellow. His jaw was set, eyes an impossible shade darker. You took the script from him, scanning the pages for the yellow highlights. All dirty talk. The only thing highlighted for tonight was dirty talk. You were fucked. You let out a shaky sigh, beginning to read the lines aloud.

“P-please baby,” you began reading. He reached down, grabbing your jaw to make him look up at you.

“The only way you’ll learn is if you do it right, no stuttering. Again.” You could see the hardness in his boxers. “My eyes are up here, sweetheart,” he mumbled as he slipped them off, grabbing his length. You cleared your throat, embarrassed.

“Please, baby I need you,” you started again, your tone was shaky. He stroked his cock slowly, shaking his head.

He stopped, mumbling a curse word. “You’re supposed to be begging, y/n,” he teased. “I thought you already read the script. Probably touched yourself while reading it too, huh? Again.” Your face was impossibly redder. You watched his hand run over the tip of his dick, squeezing it before pumping it faster. He let out a quiet groan, letting his head lull back slightly. You glanced back down at your script.

“I-I’m sorry, Mike, I-“

“If you make any noises or movements other than your lines, you’re starting over again. Now read it, y/n.” You nodded again.

“Please, baby,” you began, making your tone more whiny, needy. “Please, I need you. I need to feel you inside me. Please f-fuck me,” you stuttered out the words. A moan escaped his mouth, his mouth open slightly as he kept his gaze on you. You wanted him so fucking bad. Instinctively, you reached up to touch him. With his free hand, he slapped yours away.

“If you fucking touch me,” he paused his movements, letting out a shaky breath. “If you fucking touch me, I'll make you start over again.” He started up again. You could see his body shaking, telling you that he was close.

“Please,” you begged, it sounding more sincere than before. You started to reach down to touch yourself, trying to ease the aching in your core. He grabbed my jaw again, making me look up at him.

“Did I say you could touch yourself? As far as I know, I didn’t give you fucking permission. Again.” Once again, you relayed your line to him, not breaking eye contact, finishing them perfectly.  You watched him, a loud moan echoing your room. “F-fuck,” he groaned out, letting out whimpers as he came, beads landing on your face and script, causing the letters and highlighter to bleed. He laid back on the bed for a moment, his dick still tightly gripped in his hand, chest heaving. Finally, sitting up, he pulled up his boxers and found a shirt to wipe his hand off with, tossing it back to you. “Good girl,” he mumbled. “Now get cleaned up.” With that, he kissed your forehead and got into bed, turning to face away from you. You continued to look at him, watching him breathe from under the covers. Looking back down at your script, I realize that you needed a new one now. You grabbed the shirt that Mike had thrown at you, wiping your face clean, and getting into bed. You turned toward him, he refused to look at you. You groaned, turning onto your side. You weren’t going to let him win this little game he decided to play with you. Throughout the night, Mike periodically woke you up, rubbing his hand along your heat, and kissing your neck. By the third time, it was 5 am you were fed up, grabbing his hand and putting it back. “Im not sure you’ve learned your lesson, y/n. So, no.” He rolled over on his side, falling asleep again. You groaned, willing yourself to go back to sleep. This was going to be a long few days.

The Second Night

Today consisted of a few more table readings, as well as a couple of preemptive press interviews to promote your movie. By the time you got home, it was 7 pm. You walked into your room, seeing Mike on his phone, barely glancing at you before going back to his phone. Seeing as your day was rough, you decided today was the day to officially apologize to him. You drop your stuff to the floor and make your way over to the bed. You sit on the edge, looking toward him. “Hey Mikey,” you start. He set his phone, sitting up to face you. “I um,” his eyes meet yours. You were unable to read him this time. “I think we should talk,” you mumble, refusing to look away from his eyes. He grabbed your neck, not too hard but hard enough to hurt you. His lips connected to yours, kissing you with a force that sent you spiraling. Your mouth gaped, allowing him to shove his tongue in your mouth, making you moan as your tongues danced. Without breaking the kiss, he got up, shoving you down on the bed. He finally broke the kiss and walked over to your desk, grabbing the script and tossing it at you.

“In the orange. Tell me what happens next.” You look at him, your eyes wide. You pick up the script, flicking through the pages until you reached the orange. “Out loud, sweetheart.”

“In this scene,” you pause, allowing yourself to read before you spoke. “Evan’s character and I um, he and I are supposed to make out while he…” You pause, not wanting to say it.

“Hmm?”

“He is fingering me while we ma- while we kiss.”

“Wrong. Try again.” He gave off a devilish grin.

“While w-we make out, Mike.” You whisper.

“That’s my girl,” he mumbled as he made his way over to you, immediately attacking your neck and working at your jeans, sliding them off of you. You gasp, immediately grabbing onto his hair. You could feel yourself getting wet under his touch, aching for any sort of friction. You push your hips up against him. “Hands to yourself, love,” he growled against your neck. He grabs the script, shoving it into my hand. “Read it, tell me what it says.” His breath tickled my neck, sending chills down my spine.

“It- look I-“ You are unable to get the words out as his lips latch onto yours. He kisses you like he’s starving, taking you in as much as he can.

“Come on, sweetheart, read your little script. Memorize it. Know every noise, every movement you're supposed to make. And if you forget,” he pauses, twisting a finger around your panties, pulling them aside. “I’ll make you remember.” He grumbles, connecting his lips against yours again, sliding a finger inside you. He moves in and out impossibly slow, making you groan. His tongue runs along the seam of your lips, letting himself in as your tongues danced together aggressively. You moan onto his mouth, prompting him to quicken his movements. He was holding you against him as he inserted another finger, curling them upward, hitting that special spot that made pleasure jolt through your body. Your head lolled back, a moan escaping your lips.

“F-fuck, Mike,” you whine.

“You're so fucking wet, baby. Fuck look at you, helpless under me.” He whispered. You allowed your eyes to close. He grabbed your jaw with his free hand, very gently. Your eyes opened, his eyes were full of lust. “Oh no, you're going to look at me as I show you the effect I have on you.” His lips connected to your collarbone, sucking on it until a purple mark appeared. His fingers kept hooking up into you, and you could feel the heat building up in your belly. You buck your hips forward as he whispers, “You really think you get to cum tonight? Not until you’ve learned your lesson.” Right before you were granted a release, he pulled his fingers out, standing upright and looking at you. You were a mess before him: face red and eyes glazed over. He sticks his fingers in his mouth, licking your arousal off of them. You lost.

“Oh god please Mike, please no I promise I won’t do it again Mike please I miss you I need you so bad-“ You rambled on, looking at him with puppy dog eyes, eyebrows strewn together. Instead, he chuckles and crosses his arms.

“You haven’t learned anything, so you don’t get me, nor do you get to finish. Understand?” You whined, laying back on the bed, covering your face. Your body ached for him, you wanted to feel him inside you again. He leaned over you, planting a soft kiss on your temple. He moved to your ear and whispered, “And y/n? If you even try to make yourself cum, you’ll regret it, trust me.” He kissed your cheek again before getting off of you and heading to the bathroom to take another shower. You groaned, rubbing your legs together trying to give yourself any kind of friction. As he was showering, you devised a plan. You could try and ride his thigh when he gets back to bed. Yeah, that should work. You laid in bed, and after about 30 minutes he finally returned, climbing in bed next to you. You smiled, rolling over and straddling his thigh, kissing his face. You slowly started to grind your hips against him, but he grabbed your hips before you could derive any sort of pleasure. “You don’t think I know what you’re doing, love?” You decided to play dumb.  

“What do you mean, Mike? I’m just kissing you.” Who were you kidding, you weren’t even convincing yourself.

“As good as you look doing that,” he paused, studying your face and biting his lower lip. “And as badly as I want you to continue, you won’t. Like I said earlier. No lesson learned.” In a swift movement, he hoisted your leg off of him. You were extremely embarrassed. He got what he wanted from you: You begged. Eventually, you were able to will yourself to sleep.

--------------------------

You woke up with a sensation on your thigh. “Mike?” You mumble in your sleepy state. There was no response, his arms were wrapped around your thighs as he trailed kisses down to your core. He pressed a kiss against your aching clit through your panties, causing you to groan out. Your hands found his hair, grabbing a fistful of it.

“You’re intoxicating, y/n,” he grumbled against you. He slid your panties to the side, running his tongue along your slit until he reached your clit. “Fuck,” he breathed out against you before sucking on you, causing your body to jolt. You were extremely sensitive, but god it felt so good. “God you make me so fucking hard,” he groaned, grinding against the bed.

“P-please mike,” you moaned out. “Please, I n-need to come.” You threw your head back in frustration as he pulled away, leaving a small kiss on your thigh before crawling back up next to you.

“Not yet,” he grinned before turning over and falling back asleep. You were on the verge of tears at this point. You were so fucking horny but you were afraid to do anything, you didn’t want to prolong the punishment longer than it was planned to be. Finally, after what felt like agonizing hours of laying and staring at the ceiling, you were able to finally fall asleep.

The Final Night

The next morning, you woke up to Mike on his phone. He looked over at you, an innocent smile on his lips. “Good morning,” he said cheerfully. You were buzzing, your body craving some sort of release. You needed Mike. You were tired of whatever he was playing at. You just wanted to feel him, you craved the feeling of him inside you. He shifted his body to where he was on top of you. You felt his hard cock pressing into your lower belly. “Do you remember your lines we went over?” He ran his hands under your shirt, grabbing at your tits, causing a pleasure-filled sigh to escape your lips.

“I do,” you lied, trying to get him to finally fuck you.

“Good girl, I'm glad you remember.” He leaned down, kissing your neck. “Let's see if you still remember after I fuck the words out of your pretty little mouth.” He was quoting the script. Your mouth falls open slightly as you watch him remove his boxers, his dick springing free. He gave you a look, as if asking if it was okay. You give a soft nod.

“Please, M-Mike, I’m desperate,” You beg. He smiles, leaning down and kissing your forehead.

“You don’t get to look at me, understand?” He asked, slipping his shirt off and putting it over your eyes. “Only I get to look at you, looking at me would bring you too much pleasure.”

“Please mike, just fuck me please,” you groan. Without a word, you feel his cock slide into you. You throw your head back, gripping at the bedsheets and moaning. You hear soft groans and whimpers coming from Mike, making you impossibly hornier. He’s attacking your neck as he's thrusting into you with no mercy, “F-fuck mike please!” You cry out.

“Now’s your time, say you’re fucking mine, y/n.” You weren’t able to get the words out. You feel his thumb circle your clit as he continues ruthlessly thrusting. The familiar heat is building up in you, making you throw out a string of incoherent pleas and whines. You grab onto his arms, praying he’s going to let you cum. “Looks like I’m fucking the words right out of your mouth, huh? That’s such a shame,” he said, taking deep breaths in between his words. With that, he pulls out of you, moving his thumb off your clit. He removes the shirt off your face and looks down at you, seeing tears forming in your eyes. You groan, silently begging him to let you have your release. He wipes the tears from your eyes before giving you a soft kiss. He puts his boxers back on, getting off the bed and making his way out of the room, you presume to the bathroom to ‘finish himself off.’

“Mike p-please,” you whine. “I don’t want to wait any longer p-please,” He only shakes his head in response.

“Look at your script, love. Patience is key.” He walked out of the room, leaving you aching for him. You got up, stumbling over to your desk and picking up the script. You scanned over the highlighted parts. He is recreating this almost identically, you think to yourself. You look over the pink highlights, blushing at what you have coming for you tonight. Thank god you have nothing to do today.

-------------------

Your legs were buzzing and your skin was on fire. Mike called out of work tonight, making you hopeful. You weren’t sure where he was though. You were laying on your bed, reading a book when he came in, panting. You looked up at him. “H-hey Mikey,” you say sheepishly. “Where have you been?”

“I was on a run,” he walked over to you, picking you up and attacking your lips with his in an aggressive kiss. You wrap your legs around his waist as he picked you up. “Enough is enough,” he grumbled, pushing you up against the wall. His tongue pushes past your lips, you greedily taking him in as he roughly kisses you. As he uses the wall as leverage, he manages to peel your shirt off, grabbing at your tits as he is kissing and sucking on your neck. You lean your head back against the wall, letting your mouth fall open, small moans escaping. “You’re so fucking needy, you need this soooo fucking bad don’t you?” He teased you in between kisses. You were useless, seeing stars as he groped your tits. He’s basically eating you, lips traveling from your jaw, to your neck, to your collarbone, gingerly leaving kisses on the marks he gave you the previous night. His hand reaches between the two of you, pushing up against your core, rubbing you through your clothed cunt. You’re a mess at this point, your body reacting exactly the way he wanted it to. “Greedy, greedy, greedy,” he grumbled. You are nearly at your breaking point, that heat building up inside you once again.

“M-Mikey please, please just this once please I need-“  Those words cause him to speed up. You moan, feeling yourself come undone in his arms.

“Oh baby no, I’m going to make you cum however many times I want to make you cum,” he groans.

“Oh f-fuck, Mike!” You cry out. Your body tenses as you finally get your release. You grab onto mike, clawing at his back as you ride out your orgasm, moans and whimpers escaping you. Immediately, he brings you over to the bed, laying you down gently with your ass hanging over the edge. He strips you, immediately attacking your entrance with his tongue. You grab his hair, your hips bucking up onto him. “M-mike yo- this is too much, i-im so fucking sensitive I-“

“Its enough when Ive had enough,” he mumbles against you. His tongue runs over your folds, flicking against your clit periodically. He pushes your legs apart as far as they could go, spreading you open as he tongue-fucked you. You feel your orgasm building again, causing you to pull back slightly. It was almost too much for you to handle. Mike pulls you against him again. You whine and squirm under his touch, your vision hazy with pleasure. “if you don’t fucking be still Im going to extend your punishment, and I don’t believe you want that, do you, you pathetic mess.” Mike goes at it again. You tug his hair, making him whimper into you. His tongue flicks over your clit a couple more time before you finally tip over the edge, coming on his face. Your back arched as you rode out your orgasm, him planting soft kisses and nips on your inner thigh. Your body ached, but it felt so fucking good. Mike pushed you further up the bed, taking off his sweatpants and boxers, revealing his cock, twitching in anticipation. He gets on top of you, planting sloppy lazy kisses all over you before kissing you, sliding his tongue in your mouth. You immediately tasted yourself on his tongue. “Bet you can fucking taste what I do to you. Yeah? You understand you’re fucking mine right? Those pretty noises? Mine. Those pretty faces you make? Mine. The obscene words you say when you’re close? ONLY mine. No one else’s” You nodded your head quickly. “Use your fucking words, love. Put that pretty mouth of yours to use.”

“I-I’m yours, mike,” you moan through kisses. You continue to repeat those words when you feel him push his cock into you spreading you open, making you gasp. Fucking, finally.

“Fucking right you are,” he growls before attacking his lips to yours again. He grabs your wrists, pinning them above your head. He thrust in and out of you at a sloppy yet quick pace, the sound of skin slapping and moans filling the room. Mike was letting out small whimpers here and there, struggling to speak. “What did you learn y/n? What did you learn from this experience, hmm? That’s you’re a slut for me? How you make me fucking horny by you just looking at me? How I want to fuck you so hard that the only word you can say is MY name?? Tell me my love, what did you learn?”

You start babbling “I- I learned never to keep things from you, fuck, H-how no amount of fake sex on the screen will change the fact that we fit perfectly together. How- holy shit M-Mike,” he didn’t let up. He was pounding into you. You were unfolding again. “how you know me so well. How you love me so well. How I’ll never lie about anything ever again. How I’m only yours. Only, y-yours, Mike.”

“Good girl. Goooood fucking girl” he said as he started peppering kisses all over your face. “My sweet girl. You’re so perfect, fuck. I want to breathe you in always.” He slowed his pace down, becoming more gentle. “I want you to feel safe to tell me things, fuck-“ He’s a groaning mess. In fact you were both a fucking mess. “I fucking love you so much.” You felt him twitch inside you, his eyes screwing shut. You felt it too, and finally, you spilled, clenching around him, moaning out his name. You felt him cum inside you as he tried to stifle his whimpers. You two stayed there for a moment, catching your breath. You wrap your arms around him in a bear hug, holding onto him tightly. He chuckles, kissing your cheek. “You did so well, you took me so well. You were so patient, you’re so fucking good,” he whispered, leaning his forehead against yours. He rolls off of you, taking off his shirt to clean you and him up. He pulled you against him when he was done, wrapping you up in his arms. You buried your head in his chest. He rubs your back, making random shapes against your skin.

“Mike I’m really sorry. I never should have done that. I got in my own head and got worried. I’m so sorry. Please forgive me.” He hugs you tighter.

“Love, I forgave you after night one. I just wanted to have some fun. See how you could come undone under me. It was fucking mesmerizing. Fucking beautiful.” He paused for a moment. “Y/n, you’re going to do so good in that movie. You always do. I can’t wait to see it.” Mike kisses your shoulder. “I’m so proud of you, love. You never fail to amaze me with what you can do. Whether it’s school, your thousands of movie jobs, or how you take me…you always do amazing.” You smile against his chest.

“I love you, Mike.”

“I love you too, more than anything.” His words were sluggish. “Sleep?” You nodded, already drifting off. “Goodnight, my love.” You hum a response into his chest before fading into a, finally, peaceful sleep.

If yall made it to the end, thanks for reading, I appreciate your support for my page. You guys are literally amazing! Please forgive me for any typos, it is in fact 6AM lmao. Anyways, thanks again if you made it to the end!

[pretty-blkgirl]

Hannie Day

//gn!reader x Han//

Synopsis: You and Han celebrate his birthday

Genre: fluff, crack

Warnings: none fr except for swearing

A/N: Not 1000% happy with this but it’s my Hannie’s birthday (at least it’s his birthday in Korea lmao) so I wanted to put this out. Finna write Lixie’s story too lol

~~~~|~~~~

“Let’s calm down,” You giggle, smiling brightly as Han pulls you towards the haunted house. He was practically jumping up and down with excitement, and you almost burst into laughter, considering he wasn’t gonna be this happy for long.

“Baby, you’re taking too long,” He whines, “There’s already a long line to get inside”. You roll your eyes playfully and decide to walk a bit faster.

Han’s been talking about this place for a while, so you decided to take him for his birthday. Initially, the members were supposed to come, but they all dropped out after hearing how scary it was.

Even Minho dropped out, which concerned you, considering he likes these things.

You two reached the line and waited (semi) patiently for staff to give you waivers.

“Damn, do they really need a waiver?” You mumble loud enough for Han to hear. He quickly signs his and gives you the pen to sign you.

“Yes, baby. It’s a haunted house,” He says in a “duh” tone. You two give your signed waivers back before being brought over to another staff member to pay. Once you’ve paid, you’re directed into the building.

“It’s happening,” Han cheeses, making your heart swell even though you’re already scared shitless.

The first 30 seconds are quiet and calm. The people in front of you are shaking with fear while the people at the back are laughing. Han is still bouncing off the walls, but that soon stops when a clown decorated in fake blood and bruises pops out of a corner.

The people in front run for their lives while the people at the back scream loudly. All normal reactions. However, you and Han jump so hard that you both end up falling straight to the ground.

“OH GOD,” You scream, immediately curling up in a ball. Han tries to play the brave boyfriend and gets up quickly, pulling you up by your arm.

He struggles for a bit since you’re adamant about staying on the ground.

“Y/n get up. There’s bugs on the ground,” he says. You have an intense fear of bugs but you stay there, that scare being enough for you already.

Han suddenly hears the sound of a chainsaw, looking back momentarily to see the same clown with the weapon staring dead at you both.

All you feel is your body being lifted and thrown over someone’s shoulder. You hear Han swearing as he carries you to the next room.

At this moment you’re happy the members didn’t come, they definitely wouldn’t let you hear the end of this.

Once you two reach safety, he puts you down

“WE GOTTA GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE” You yell. Han nods and starts to speak before suddenly screaming and falling to the floor. You look at him confused, watching as he stares at something behind you.

You contemplated grabbing him and running like he just did you, but you knew you couldn’t lift him if you tried. Instead, you turned slowly to find a person on stilts. They were painted in horrifying clown makeup, too, but instead of a chainsaw, they had two butcher knives in their hands.

You knew the scare actors couldn’t touch you, so you backed up until you reached your boyfriend. The actor walked towards you but stayed a few feet away.

“Hannie baby, you gotta stand.”

“Nuh uh”

You groan, watching as the actor starts to smile devilishly. “Baby, don’t be me, please get up.”

“Carry me.”

“Hell no.”

“I carried you.”

“I can’t lift you.”

“You haven’t even tried.”

The actor begrudgingly watches you and Han go back and forth, listening to more people sneaking out of the room without being scared.

They ultimately decide to buck at you, making you both scream before walking away to continue scaring people.

Han stands and wraps an arm around you, “They left us”

“Thank goodness,” You sigh as you two walk to the next room.

When you two got in, you both planned to hold hands, put your heads down, and run for dead life. That plan went out the window when you saw a bloodied woman start sprinting towards you.

Something must have snapped in your head because you started to punch at the air, making the scare actor stop in her tracks as Han looked at you with pure embarrassment on his face.

“Y/n….please”

You ignore him and keep fighting for your life, making the scare actor clear her throat awkwardly.

“I WON'T LET YOU WON'T KILL ME”

Han tries not to but ends up bursting out laughing, “They aren’t gonna kill you. Please stop windmilling.”

When you don’t stop, he manages to grab your arms and pull you to the next room, bowing at the scare actor as an apology.

When you two enter the last room, there are at least five actors in there waiting for you.

“Okay,” Han whispers to you, “There’s the exit. All we gotta do is run out.”

You analyze everyone. They all look ready to pounce on you at any moment.

Determined to leave, you both start screaming and running. You can hear the actors run after you as reach outside.

“GET TO THE CAR!” You yell. You can hear the crowd outside laughing, but you’re too scared to be embarrassed.

The actors follow you to the car, only stopping when you almost run them over.

Once you two are out of the parking lot, you finally start to calm down. Again, you’re grateful the members weren’t there.

Once you reach a red light, you look to your boyfriend. He was already looking at you, his heart shaped smile making you melt.

“That was fun.” He smiles

You smile back, “It was.”

You lean in to give him a kiss right before the light turns green.

“Happy birthday, darling”

[chocotonez]

skz love languages: acts of service

a/n: I have so many ideas yet none exist in my head,,that’s not meant to be poetic it just means I struggled with some of these

genre/warnings: I don’t think there’s any, gn reader (should be, pls tell me if there’s anything implying otherwise!!), swearing, guys I promise I know my grammar I just like casual language for my hcs

chan

-okay these will be short and sweet because I have so many thoughts

-folds your clothes along with his, or washes your laundry with his

-remembers your schedule so he can remind you of important events

-gives you tips if you ever go to the gym together and shares his water with you

-blows on hot food before he gives it to you

-takes photos of things he remembered you talking about when he’s at the store and asks if you want it

-holds your hands in his when it’s cold and rubs them to warm them up!!

-brings you water/snacks if you’re studying/working with little notes on them saying ur doing a good job <3

-brings extra tissues or lip balm or hand sanitizer just in case you need it

minho

-okay this is kinda niche but like clearing out your phone tabs or compter tabs and scolding you if you have a messy layout or smth like that

-texts reminders to you regularly, drink water, eat, take meds, clean your desk when you get home…

-sends you cute gifs to cheer you up

-always checks in with your feelings in his own way “hey u big baby, are you okay? do you need anything?”

-pretends to laugh at the videos you send him because even tho they’re usually kinda lame it’s from you and that makes him smile but he’ll never admit that </3

-organizes any mess you left behind, puts your dishes away or puts your shoes away and then makes fun of u for being “messy”

-wipes away food you got on your face

-begrudgingly lets you have more blanket when you sleep/cuddle together because he doesn’t want to see u cold or uncomfortable :(

-takes your glasses/jewelry off if you fell asleep with them on

changbin

-opens jars/wrappers/bags for you

-lifts you into his shoulders at festivals

-because it’s October here’s a lil Halloween inclusion of him holding your hands at haunted houses and yelling at the scare actors for you <3 (also because it’s his way of coping lol)

-turns lights off/closes doors if you forget

-if you’re in the bathroom before bed he fluffs up your pillows so ur all comfy and cozy

-reads messages you got out loud if you’re preoccupied with something else, or alerts you if something seems important

-tells you stupid bedtime stories to help you go back to sleep if you had a nightmare

-begins to buy larger umbrellas so you both can stay dry together

-if you wear makeup he wants to help you by either by blending it or just straight applying it and giggling like a kid because “it’s fun”

hyunjin

-brushes your hair and styles it

-this might be also niche but holding onto your shoulders while you walk rather than your hand because it feels more secure?? also because he feels like he can bring you closer to him

-I never really write idol s/os but the idea of him looking over to you during an awards show to periodically make sure ur okay makes me melt

-feeds you and then pinches ur cheeks while laughing

-usually lets you choose the movie/show you want to watch, same with places to eat (unless you don’t know what to pick, then he’ll help you figure it out)

-runs you weekly bubble baths for you two to relax in

-holds/opens doors for you

-always wants you to relax, back rubs or nights off and doing face masks together

-he applies ur face masks for you :)

han

-he’s more of a receiver than a giver for this love language, his is mostly mixed with gift gifting

-making you playlists or untitled songs or coded titles so only you can find them on his Spotify :)

-he adjusts ur clothes, I feel like he’s the type of boyfriend to pick lint off of u without being promoted

-he’s a bit messy so he’ll tend to throw things into your drawer so it at least has the appearance of looking neat, he’ll help u organize if that’s what u want tho!! U just need to ask <3

-always checks in on you unprompted tho, makes sure you’re doing well at any hour of the day and whines

-he either spam texts u or shows up at your house with no warning to check up on you

-stands up for u but subtlety (English is not my first language it took me like seven tries to get that right pmg)

-BUT as I was saying, if you want to go to a restaurant but ur too shy to say it in front of the ppl ur hanging out with, he’ll be like “I WANNA GO TO ____” until they relent <3

felix

-kills bugs for you

-teaches you how to bake and if he’s alone, he’ll bake extra treats for you (his fave thing to bake u r cupcakes !! )

-helps you build furniture and never teases u if you don’t get something <333

-if you play online games together he’ll try to always watch your back and fight off enemies for you

-or if you prefer taking the offensive, he’ll simply cheer you on :))

-sends flowers to your workplace/leaves them on your kitchen counter

-stargazes with you or plans out meaningful dates where he treats you

-makes you playlists

-sings you lullabies if you can’t sleep or just wanna hear him

-stays up after you to make sure you went to bed okay

seungmin

-plugs in your phone for you before bed

-he always listens to your advice or at least takes it into heavy consideration, makes sure you feel heard

-asks if his jokes ever go too far

-“excuse me, they asked for no pickles”

-alway thanks you for acts of services that you do for him, leaves sweet texts or letters expressing his gratitude

-weirdly sweet remarks about how you’re so pretty it’s annoying or “who gave you permission to look so good tonight?”

-covers your eyes during scary parts of movies

-unless asked, he always lets you sleep in on weekends but never fails to be a human alarm clock if your digital one isn’t working

-wakes up before you 99% of the time so he can at least start a cup of coffee/breakfast for you

-pesters you into taking care of yourself (laying on top of you until you brush your teeth, tickling you until you relent to drinking water…)

jeongin

-never breaks pinky promises, and always tells you in advance if there’s a schedule conflict so you don’t have to wait

-if he pays you back for anything he adds a little message “thanks for lunch, love you so much”

-tries new things for you because he trusts you, and encourages you to step out of your comfort zone as well

-asks if you’d like anything before he goes to the grocery store, and always remembers it

-thanks you randomly for being such a good partner or if you did something nice in the past few days

-always gives you a comfortable space to express yourself in, lets you talk and never interrupts you

-makes sure you stay uninterrupted as well, glares down anyone who speaks over u lolol

-makes a special handshake between the two of you

-very playful acts of services but they r still acts of services <3

[el-moscorrofio-y-el-mercachifle]

As you recently posted that you are worried about the third series without Gaitan I would ask some questions. First, what did you thing of the second series *Ecomoda*? What would you want Betty, Armando, et al. to be up to decades later? Are there aspects of the original series you would like to see followed up?

Hiii thanks for the questions!🥰

Tbh, I never watched Ecomoda. Don't get me wrong, I'm all for the cute Armando/Betty fluff, but I really saw no point in it (and it always looked so oversaturated with colors that it was unappealing to me lol). So some of the things I'd love to see might have been answered already in Ecomoda and I judt don't know lmao. Although That's also part of my issue with this new coming series!

Regarding what I would like to see, new and continued, and in no particular order, I'd love:

Tributes and/or mentiones of the original cast members that are no longer with us. Perhaps Hugo keeping a portrait of Inesita on his desk and occasionally making comments to it (("ay, Inés, ¿está viendo usted la porquería de puntadas que son estas? No, es que esta gente es alérgica al talento, de verdad" while he's in the middle of one of those tantrums or something before moving on. Just general and occasional comments in a way that leaves the viewer with the sure knowledge that Hugo loves and misses Inesita, and that for him she'll forever be his best friend and she is never forgotten but also not to an unhealthy degree you know??)). Bertha talking about her Gordito on the phone or to the Cuartel (just because the actor passed doesn't mean the character has to, too). Betty mentioning something like Catalina moved to another country or something but that they are still the best of friends and keep in contact often; or Camila saying she's planning to go on vacations with her Aunt Cata for the summer. Just in general, I'd love for this new part to not forget those who participated in the original, and for all the relationships and friendships that were so cute and strong to remain as such in the new one.

Betty and Armando still in love. I want them to be so in love and devoted to each other, but I also want to see them as a team working together in Ecomoda. I also want them to be respected. Maybe the Cuartel is not so aprovechado anymore? Lol

Flashbacks. I want some more details about their lives, things that we missed for the past 20+ years

Clues about the characters' pasts. I want to know Marcela and Armando's childhood. I want to know when Nicolás and Betty became besties. I don't need big full scenes, but a casual mention like, Armando going "oh, sí, yo tenía tu edad cuando...". Just to fill in gaps that the original left (although I'm also fearful of too much info considering Gaitan is no longer the one writing them)

Unfortunately, there are characters that aren't coming back even though the actors are still around. I want to know what happened to Daniel, to Sofia, to Jenny. I want to know what happened to Daniel after being so stupid as to invest every single penny he owned and put it in a proyect that led nowhere lmao. I want to know what happened to Jenny.

I'd love to see Freddy and Jimmy being good friends. Jimmy doesn't have to call him dad, but I want it to be super clear that Freddy basically is and they love each other as father and son (as seen in ysblf). Just imagine their bond now, after so many years! Hopefully Freddy and Aura María are still going strong

I don't remember if Mariana is coming back, but I'd loved to see her actually getting a modeling career like she wanted

I want to see the relationship between Betty and her in laws

I want to see how Marcela came back into their lives (which is honestly baffling and I'm still unsure about this decision, but I understand they had to bring back the iconic duo)

I REALLY don't want Patricia to be redeemed. I don't. She never seemed like she wanted to be redeemed. But if she is, they better give a super good explanation

I also don't want Mario redeemed lmao. I hope he still is the hedonistic womanizer with no sense of morality. Again, I don't think he wanted to be redeemed.

In general, my only three real expectations are: Betty and Armando still together, good and faithful characters, and a good story. I really don't see the need (besides money lmao) to bring it back, so I'm not having much hopes ((especially regarding the characters. I really hope they aren't further flanderized!))

Thank you for your question🥰🥰

[moldymeat]

Some thoughts I had while playing Psychonauts 2 for the first time that I wanted to write down somewhere because I cant just keep info dumping to my dad. :]

Spoilers, duh

TL;DR this is my new favorite video game :D

I cringed so much through the whole process of turning Hollis into a gambling addict, I know Raz is just a kid and that they make up afterwards, but its so hard for me to play a video game and the character you play as does something I'd never do.

the music that plays in Hollis' Hotstreak reminds me of something from The Incredibles for some reason. Side note, I ADORE both PN1 and PN2's soundtracks and I do listen to them just as background noise. my favorites are all the circus tracks, Meat Circus, Flea Circus, Aquato Family Caravan

Me first hearing the main bad guys name was Maligula at the beginning of the game: "haha, Maligula kinda sounds like Amygdala, the part of the brain that controls emotions, especially fear! I sure love all the punny names in this game! I'm sure this will have nothing to do with this characters lore!"

In my head video games and film are kind of in separate categories, so hearing Jack Black and Elijah Wood, very prolific film actors voicing characters in this seemingly random video game was kinda jarring. I know now that Jack Black is friends with the creators of PN and has acted in other double fine games, buts its still kinda weird to me. (I still liked them tho)

In the Psi-Kings Sensorium, Helmut says "My Bobby" about Bob and my immediate thought was "something a little fruitys going on here" and then later on they show Bob and Helmuts marriage and stuff and I was like "oh something a LOT fruitys going on here". I think I was just so prepared for any kind of relationship for Bob and Helmut to have to be only subtext that I forgot this game came out in 2021 and they could show gay if they wanted to.

Psi pops are definitely sour grape and green apple flavored and dream fluffs are little condensed balls of cotton candy.

In hindsight, Gristol was totally trying to mail his own body to himself for safe keeping, but also he was the only mail worker so how did he think the package was going to get him? he didn't know he was going to get an intern and its not like he could walk down to the mail room as Truman without blowing his cover. My mans did NOT think this through.

The conversation Raz has with Dion is really sad and stuff, but when you're idling around Dion one of the things he says is "look at me and my psychic goggles!" and I literally laughed out loud when I heard that.

"Hey why do all these lice have little signs lol" "Lucy those were peaceful protesters!" "OH, UH OH."

I really loved Comptons Cookoff! it was way different from all the other regular old platformer levels, and I'm a sucker for timed cooking games. I only wish that you could replay the actual game show part in the collective unconscious.

In Cassie's Collection there are all the little paper fairy tale characters right? Well two of them, Shakespeare and a dragon, are played by the same actors who played Snorpy and Chandlo in bugsnax, so hearing the paper characters talk I was like "hey, I know those guys!"

Its a little pet peeve of mine when a character in any media is supposed to come from a specific country and they don't have that country's accent. Obviously Grulovia isn't a real place, but Nona has a nondescript eastern European accent, so why wouldn't the other Grulovian characters? I guess Augustus could have trained it out of himself or something, but Gristol? As much as I like Elijah Wood as Gristol, he's the gzesarevich and loves his country! there's no way he would train himself out of the grulovian accent. I've heard some other people say Gruman has an accent when Maligula was released but eh, I don't hear it all that much.

While finishing the game I (only!) shed a tear three times, once when Maligula was holding Marona's dead body, once when Raz got his junior Psychonaut badge, and once when the credits starting rolling.

i think Cosmic I and Welcome to my Mind are going to be stuck in my head for weeks.

[sirellas]

can i be a hater for a second.... new trek kind of sucks. like if prodigy and discovery are supposed to be the best they can do..... that's depressing tbh. i think there's a disconnect between star trek and the rest of modern media and that's always been there, star trek has always been a little off, but they made it work. the made up technobabble and the intensity of shakespeare stage actors with little things glued to their forehead, it was a balance. but now the plots are so convoluted it's impossible to 1. understand them 2. care about them lol because the stakes are so high that they mean nothing. it feels like reading a beta canon trek novel (derogatory). the technobabble never mattered really but now it's like they're scraping the bottom of the barrel for snappy one liners that sound smart and have a tuvix reference. and 90% of the characters have no personality beyond STARFLEET. somehow shows always end up being full of references to other shows to get fans to care, which is a dangerous spiral. discovery almost died because of that and had to reinvent themselves in a safe space in trek canon that no one cared about. and the toxic positivity, within shows and fan spaces alike, is exhausting. these shows are so.... bright and sharp. they feel like a carefully crafted focus group report. and any criticism of them gets dismissed as anti woke. i don't think the powers that be learned anything in the trek dark years between enterprise and discovery. or if they did it was all overshadowed by the realization that they'd need to bring a bunch of old people out of retirement to get old fans invested, because their original characters weren't insane enough (focus group fail). the storytelling just isn't there in the way trek needs to keep going. prodigy had a good setup. far away from known canon, interesting and unique characters. and by the end of s2 it was just a plot vehicle to tie to picard. what!? how did we go from child slavery in the delta quadrant to picard season 1 again!!! it's boring!!! new trek cannibalizing new trek. the motivation is off. they want to keep going but they don't have a reason to other than gotta keep going. this need they seem to have to correct every mistake from older shows, without acknowledging it was a mistake, or to play off the controversial things as "haha funny let's all laugh now 😠"..... it's exhausting! they're hyper earnest about the fluff but there's so little substance to back it up..... ok hater time done lol go stream prodigy s2 out now on netflix ✌️✌️📢🙏🤑

[itsmepage]

Ladyfingers

Ice Stake! Peach x Reader || So I decided to call off my Peach and Daisy mini series, since it was just ment to be fluffly only and eps are not fits for chapters lol- series are not my strong suit I guess but Ladyfingers is such a good song for Peach I had to make a fic about it hevdj and with it with Ice Skate Peach was just perfert

Summary: You watch your best friend/crush play, falling in love with her twice

Fluff

Warnings: One small mention to the villian grape & slight flirting

_✍︎︎

When Peach wrote you a letter a while back, with a free ticket saying: she’ll be taking a lead role in a theater production, you were all kinds of ecstatic.

You knew that Peach had loved the theater for a long time. Peach had always talked about how magical it was seeing them; the dedication of an actor or a producer pouring their entire heart for the audience to see and understand. The expression on their face or faces sells the entire product to her. Peach has also mentioned wanting to take part in a production, wanting to feel and be part of what the actors were doing; unfortunately, she never had the chance.

Until recently, when she was othered a part at the Sparkle Theater.

From what you could gather from the letter Peach just helped them get out of a sticky situation, when Madam Grape stole stories and made them her own. Peach became a regular and a favorite. She was offered her lead parts because of it, which, of course, she greatly accepted. So without missing a heartbeat, set up your ride and make way for a long trip to the Sparkle Theatre.

When the princess got there, your eyes lit up with the overwhelming with the huge theater, crowd, and lights that light up the night sky. It made you even more excited than already were. Not only to see your best friend in the whole wide world but as well as to see what’s in store. Once inside, the house crew Theets, immediately greeted you at the door: showing you around the first floor, advertising their programs, other shows they’ll be performing soon, and intermission snacking. Even the hospitality was amazingly overwhelming, which made sense to Peach’s enthusiasm about the place. The inside was beautifully decorated too! Chandeliers and ribbon lights are found on each side asymmetrically with a huge statue, in the middle of the room. It gave You a sense of adventure, wanting to explore every inch of the building, but you had a play to catch, and with Peach: you were not missing a beat.

You looked down at her ticket, checking if told you which stage, since there were multiple in one. Oddly, it didn’t tell you anything, except the title and the show’s price. You flipped it several times in hopes you were just not seeing it. Just then you felt a flying ribbon circling you before meeting face to face. “Hello! Welcome to the Sparkle Theatre! I’m Stella, a Sparkle spirit who watches over this Theatre!” They instantly induce themselves, their spark of energy makes you slightly jump with adrenaline, admiring the.. Guardian fairy? You think? Well, guess it’s way cooler than actual security. “You seem lost, first time here?” They asked leaning in closer to listen. “Oh, Yeah… I was uh.. invited by a friend.. she uh, gave me this ticket, and I just.. hm.. I don’t know want room she’s in..” Stella looks down at your ticket, their smile becoming brighter when they recognize the name “Oh! you’re here to see ’The Ice Princess?’ It’s right upstairs, I’ll show you the way!” They offered and you and you greatly accepted. It’ll be better just in case you get distracted or lost.

“Right this way!” Stella told her while quote-on-quote ’climbed up the stars’. You followed them, using their teal ribbon as a source of direction. Once at the top, they stopped on their right, close to the line that was forming at the entrance. “If you got the invite, you must be Peach’s friend! Peach told me a lot about you!” Stella said as you felt a blush rush up to your cheeks. You held them. “Really..?” You fluttered. “Mhm! It’s so nice to finally meet you!” Stella complimented as the thought of Peach talking about hasn’t left your mind.

You had a crush on Peach for a while now, the funny thing was: you didn’t particularly know why. You just did. Is it because Peach has always stuck up for you? Maybe you just loved the way someone like Peach can be so graceful and dangerous at the same time. It could be both of those things. It could be anything at this point. But you tried your best to push to the side; Peach is only the friend you had, you didn’t how her kingdom would react, and you loved the connection you had with her. You don’t want to lose it.

“This version of the Ice showing is completely new, starting our very own Princess Peach!” Stella said, interrupting the orange princess's thoughts. “Our team works hard, so I hope you enjoy it.” They said with a genuine smile. “Thank you, I’m sure I will..” you said before Stella flew away. The two of you waved goodbye to each other as you parted ways. “Ticket please!” A voice behind you said. A Theet stopped you once you caught up to the line: you followed the order, leaning down to give the little guy the ticket.

“Right this way my friend, enjoy the show!” They said handing back the ticket to find help your seat. You heard the door close she walked into the light-up room, hearing voices echo as they patiently waited for it to start, you hurried along when the light began to dimmer and voices began to settle. “Excuse me.. sorry!” you tried to whisper repeatedly as you moved past a crowd to get to your spot. Voices shushed others as stage lights turned on and moved to the center. The buzzer slightly rang indicating the play was starting.

The curtain opened and the crowd was greeted with a snowy wonderland, the floor was pure ice with fake snow decorated on the sides as well as snow props to balance the setting. You felt the cold through the theater, which was a nice cold, like if your grandfather was a snowman and gave you a hug, the kind on Christmas. Prop Trees were covered in snow, as you could see in the background. It also had Christmas lights to build up the atmosphere. There was a set dead center in the middle that looked like an ice castle. Already the setting was beautiful to see, your eyes glistened the perfect blue but that was just the setting. Soon enough, gentle music entered your ears.

As soon as it did, there she was.

Peach was wearing a gorgeous icey dress, with a tiara, unlike her own. It resembled an icicle, ones hidden in snow. She glittered in the blue lighting: fitting in right with the atmosphere. She moved to the center of the stage and sat there with her head down as the melody of music was finding its tone. Once you heard the trumpet, she began dancing. She followed the music, sliding on the ice as she matched its sweet harmony spinning and jumping at the right tone. Your eyes would not peel off of her she was like an angel in how she moved just like the title said. Your heart beat faster as you watched her dance on the ice doing everything so flawlessly it made your mind wander off: imagining yourself on stage with her holding her hands or waist as the two danced on the ice. Your eyes highlight the blue magic as the music comes to a close. Peach high jump, landing and twirling at the end of the song ending on the pose. The audience took a minute to travel in the performance before being followed by a roar covered by the crowd. You didn’t realize it was over and that your mouth was a gape until you heard them scream. You quickly followed along cheering on your friend.

The play continued as other skater Threets joined in skating on to do the next scene. Progressing on to the story you could only pay attention to Peach on stage.

You ran to her after the show was over and the actors were hanging out in the lobby. Practically tackling her into a hug. “Peach oh my goodness! You were so beautiful! You did so well!” You showered her with praises. “Aww thank you so much I’m glad you could make it!” Peach blushed returning the hug. “Of course! Wouldn’t miss it for the world..” you admitted, matching the pink on her cheeks. For a brief moment, it felt like it was just the two of you in the room. Holding hands as you look into each other’s eyes. It was interrupted by Stella. “Woo-hoo!! Another successful night! Couldn’t do without you, Peach!” Stella complimented. Peach smiled. You look at her at that moment and time seems to slow down. You rambled on with the play, not realizing how loud you were speaking but you didn’t care. Threet in and out of crew circled you and Peach giving her praises and making you feel welcome. When it came to conversations, you only got the summary, or small bits and pieces that you’re able to hear but backstage drama was not your concern as you could move your eyes away from your best friend and the dance outfit she was in she was so pretty on stage, but up close was a whole different story, her golden hair was little messy and sweat glisten her skin from the lights and movements put a complimented the glitter on her face. The winter blue matched with her diamond eyes, and her smile, her laughter. Peach calling your name forced you back into reality. “Hello?? Dear? Are there?” The nickname made your heart skip a beat. “Huh?” You instinctively said “S-sorry! I uh..“ you quickly tried to protest but instantly you were caught in her trance again. Cruse that damn smile that shaped her pink lips. She gave you time to answer, but you have no cover, no jokes, nothing and you sure wasn’t gonna tell her. Peach suddenly grabbed your hands as you felt your face turn red as butterflies bloomed in your stomach.  Peach giggled sweetly. “I missed you.” She said, you can only say the same thing back. 

It wasn’t a silly crush anymore. No. You were completely in love with her.