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sukunasluvrr · 15 hours ago

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Nerd Gojo who was an absolute simp for you. The poor man so badly wanted to get his hands on you in some way, but he knew he wouldn’t have a chance. You were way out of his league. You, the popular girl who hung around people like Sukuna and Kenjaku and were always present in frat parties. Often ending up with a pillow between his legs and humping the poor fabric like a desperate dog while whimpering your name over and over again, leaving the sheet soiled with his sticky sperm and a hint of shame in his actions, how did he end up this down bad for you?? Nobody knew.

He’d often help you out with your studies and tests, often doing them for you after you bat your lashes prettily at him and asked him real nicely. It really didn’t take much to convince him, looking at you with puppy eyes and his glasses that sat so adorably on the bridge of his nose as he nods and mutters „of course..“ under his breath. But he couldn’t take it anymore, one day while you were in his dorm, him helping you with a project- he couldn’t help himself. He was already half hard because of your tits being in his sight and the smell of your perfume that invaded his senses. Looking at you with his usual puppy like stare as he took all the courage he had. “Can you… stay the night?” He asked almost in a hushed tone. You had to look twice to make sure you weren’t imagining this,

“You want me to stay the night?” You asked him, to make sure you didn’t just hear it wrong, but to your surprise, he nodded without hesitation, hands moving to your hips as he got onto his knees- actually begging for you

“Please… just give me this one night… I’ll let you do whatever you want to me, this night and the rest of our semesters… but I’m begging you, I just wanna feel you for once…“

He was so desperate… it was almost cute. And his offer was quite tempting, so you agreed and he practically grinned in excitement. Already pulling you to the bed and kissing over your skin in soft pecks, being so gentle with it, like you could break if he went to hard and rough on you. His hands big enough to cup both your breasts through your top as he started kneading the soft subtle flesh, small whimpers leaving him from the feeling as he made you lay back on his bed, straddling your hips and grinding lightly against you, feeling the imprint of his length pressing against you. He already felt big through the fabric and the man wasn’t even fully hard yet!! He was still gentle with you, constantly asking if you really want this to which you nodded and he kept going. Removing his glasses and putting them on the nightstand as he started undressing you, lips pressing against your neck. Getting your top and bra off with practiced ease, without even wasting another second his lips were kissing around your breasts, kissing the underside of one while the other was being teased by his hand, thumb circling around your nippe and lightly pinching it while his mouth worked on coating the other in his spit, tongue circling around it and softly sucking on it like he was worshipping your chest. Earning small sounds from your lips and your hand moving into his hair while he kept this up for a few minutes until you remembered his offer, softly pulling him off your chest

„You said you’ll let me do anything, right?“ your voice a little shaky and breathy from arousal, „and I wanna ride you, pretty“ and god you could see the wheels turning in his head as he made sense of your words. Hearts practically forming in his eyes as he nods eagerly, already sitting up to remove his clothes with shaky hands

„Yes!! Yes yes yes, anything for you“ the moment his clothes were off and he was left in his boxers with a obvious tent standing out, his hands were already on you again, your words seeming to having made him only 10 times more desperate and harder for you, pulling at your sweatpants to get them off of you and pulling you on top of him, eyebrows furrowed in a pathetic way and puppy eyes looking up at you

„do whatever you want to me… spit on me, use me like a stupid toy, I just want you… I need you“

His words so desperate and full of emotion as his hips started bucking up into yours, moaning at the stimulation to his sensitive clothed cock. Your hands finding way to to his chest for stability as you tried to get him to calm down, not even having gotten your panties off yet and the slick was smearing over your pussy lips almost uncomfortably

„ 'toru… calm down for a second, I’m not going anywhere“

You tried to reason with him, but your words went to blank ears while he kept grinding up against you, hands already starting to pull his boxers down and fingers pulling at the strings of your panties to get the flimsy fabric off your skin and get access to your sweet pussy, accidentally ripping the fabric and pulling it off, the moment he made eye contact with your glistened cunt he felt like he was in a dream, his movements stopping for once and hands parting your thighs a little more and pulling your closer to his hard and proud standing dick. Making you gasp for a second as you saw it, already knowing that the stretch would probably make your poor pussy remember him for the next few weeks. He of course noticed your stare, and he thought you were disappointed

„it’s not really that big… sorry to disa-„ the poor guy couldn’t even finish his words before you interrupted him

„NO! No, oh my god, you’re probably the biggest I’ve ever had“

And you could’ve sworn you saw a light twitch in his dick when he heard your words, a soft hint of red tinting his pale cheeks, watching as your hand moves around his cock to give a few pumps to it, watching and listening for his reactions while he gave the prettiest whimpers from himself, hips bucking into your hand for more, before he could get a word out, he watched you let a globe of spit drop onto his tip, making his lower stomach cave in a little from the sensation on his sensitive dick. Already starting to beg for more, eyes half lidded while he watched you tease his poor, already angry looking tip. Your hand smearing the salvia over his cock to lube him up a bit before you moved, hovering a little over him with your knees pressed into the mattress and your entrance teasing his tip, letting it slip in and out faintly but never truly sinking down on him, making him almost cry while he endured the sweet torture of your pussy. The feel of your slick hole against his sticky tip almost too much to bear, having spend weeks if not months imagining how it would feel while fisting his dick to the thought of you almost pathetically at night. And now he was so so close to getting what he wanted, to feeling the slick warm walls of your heat around his throbbing length. It took some encouragement to actually have you sink down on him, the stretch mean and making you hiss a little, earning a small look of concern from him, his hands moving to your hips and rubbing soft circles into your skin in an attempt to soothe you while you got used to the size of him inside of you. The moment you started moving your hips against him, he felt like he ascended to heaven. A small groan leaving him and head titling back into the pillows to focus on your hips working to bounce along his dick, not able to keep his own from thrusting up into you from below- weakly at first but picking up in pace and firmness the faster you got. His eyes fixated on your face to look at every crunch of your nose, brows and the part of your lips whole moans left your mouth, his moans and groans being heard along yours, as well as the undeniable sound of skin against skin and the soft squelches of your cunt working on his dick to milk his cum from him. His fingers still digging into your hips but not moving them to bring you out of rhythm. Each stroke of your warm cunt around his dick had his mouth gaping and slutty sounds escaping from it. Your slick already trickling down his length and coating his balls, surely leaving a mess on the sheets but neither of you cared when you were riding him so good. Trying to keep his eyes on you and watching your tits bounce, unable to resist but move his hands to cup the soft flesh and knead gently

„you’re so pretty sweetheart…“ he muttered under his breath, his voice sounding somewhat shaky along with his whines and moans of pleasure

„don’t wanna be without your pussy ever again… ngh- fuck…. Keep going“

It was embarrassing to say he got close already, having been hard ever since you were with him and being so needy for you he couldn’t control himself, a pathetic whine leaving and eyebrows furrowing as his eyes closed „mhhff…. I’m gonna cum…“ his words were barely heard by you, wing lost in your own world and almost in a trance while using his dick to get yourself off, but you weren’t gonna be cruel… how could you be cruel to the sweet, nerd guy, who collected comics and who actually knew something about female anatomy???

„Go on Baby… cum for me“ giving him the go ahead because you were close yourself. Working the both of you to the edge at the same time, moaning your name as he came with a thrust up into your cunt, hands pulling you down by your hips to keep your warm walls around his dick, feeling your inner walls throb around his spent cock while you came at the same time as him was even better, feeling like he was being killed by your tight heat- breath coming out in gasps and brain going blank. „Ohhh ffffucck“ was all he could mutter out, you still gave weak grinds of your hips against his, rising out your own pleasure before you came to a stop and slumped down against him, face against his chest and listening to his fast heartbeat. Keeping him seethed inside of you, too exhausted to have him pull out just yet. But.. to your shock, he was still hard. Barely even calmed down from his highs and already bucking into you again

„Mff, another round??“

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk gojo #gojo saturo #gojo satoru #gojo smut #gojo satoru smut #satoru gojo x reader

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foolinthera1n · 2 days ago

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✮ BORN TO DIE

─ dw x fem!reader

cw! angst, blood, break ups, fighting, mentions of death, slight religious aspects

dean didn't think. he didn't breathe, didn't blink, didn't even take his eyes off the road as he sped the impala down the highway, fingers white-knuckled on the steering wheel. he hadn't taken his foot off the gas since he got in the car, not since he heard your voicemail, and he only stepped on it harder when bobby called.

the shakiness of your voice haunted him, the spluttering laugh that turned into a gut wrenching coughing fit echoed like a broken record in his head, only making him push the speed limit harder. bobby's voice had been calm, but dean could hear the undertone of panic in the old man's voice that reflected his own.

so dean drove as fast as he could without burning baby's tires, his heart in his throat as your last confession rang in his ears.

i'm just sorry i wont get to tell you i love you one last time.

it was dean's birthday, of all days─not that he ever really celebrated it. in fact sam had been out grabbing pie and a case of beers for the two of them, when dean had finally checked his phone after being caught up in a shifter case all day, his heart dropping as he saw you had left him a voicemail.

he knew you wouldn't call unless something was seriously wrong, you had told him as much the last time you called, which was mostly telling him to stop drunk calling you. so his hands had shaken as he lifted the phone to his ear, his whole body freezing as your weak voice and self proclaimed last words were spoken through the phone.

it was by some miracle that bobby's call came just as your voicemail had finished, because only god knows what he would have done if he had been left to his own devices after possibly listening to you die in a voicemail. a fucking voicemail.

the only thing that stopped dean from going insane was bobby telling him that he had you, that he thinks you're stable, but he can't be sure, and he thinks dean is gonna want to see you.

so he didn't hesitate, not for a second, to throw his jacket on and grab his keys, only leaving sam a curt note about where he was going. thankfully, they weren't too far from bobby's place in sioux falls, having just come from a pit stop there themselves, so the only thing dean had to focus on was remembering the exit to take in a few miles.

as he drove though, he thought about you. he didn't want to think about your weak, shortening breaths that could be heard through the speaker of the phone, or the spluttering of blood from your mouth that he heard when you had coughed, so he focused on the last time he saw you.

you were beautiful. even when you were angry, especially when you were angry, like you were then, you were beautiful. and although his own anger simmered under his skin, he found himself lost in the way your lips moved as you spoke, and how the dim lighting of the motel room you were staying in cast a glow over you that formed a halo around your head, making you look angelic.

dean hated angels, he really did. and ever since finding out what brainless dicks they really were a few years ago, he doesn't like to compare things to them, but you. oh, you. dean thought that if he went back to the first days of existence and asked anyone what they thought an angel was, they would draw a picture of you.

you, with your eyes narrowed and lips pursed, shoulders tensed as you yelled at him, calling him overbearing and accusing him of not trusting you. god, he had wanted to kiss you so bad. he knew he could, you'd said before with a giggle that you loved when he shut you up by kissing you, but he'd figured in that moment that he wasn't allowed to do that.

it was only when you suggested that maybe things weren't going to work out anymore that he snapped out of it.

"what?" he had asked, heart dropping to his stomach as his eyes went wide. "what the hell are you talking about? we just need to talk it out."

"that's the problem, dean," you had argued, and dean had never hated himself more than when he saw the tears welling in your breath taking eyes. "we always say we're gonna talk it out, but we never do. it ends with us in the sheets, and just builds until we fight again, because you're too afraid to face your goddamn feelings!"

that had snapped something in dean, the accusation hitting right on the money as the natural instinct to push you away bubbled to the surface, rearing it's ugly head. "oh, i'm too scared?" he had spat, taking a step closer to you. "well, sweetheart, you're the one who is so incompetent that i have to save your ass every goddamn time!"

every second of every day since that moment, he wished he could take that back. he had said a lot of things during your relationship, but the one thing that he never insulted was your ability as a hunter. that was something that you just never did. and he knew he fucked up as soon as he had seen your face fall, tears welling so thickly in your hurt eyes that he hadn't been sure you could still see.

"is that how you feel?" you had asked, your voice small and breaking slightly.

dean had swallowed, trying to force down the self sabotaging words that were crawling up his throat, but they spilled out before he could stop them. "yeah. it is."

you had just looked at him with a searing hurt in your eyes that had burned a hole in his weeping heart, a tear finally slipping down your flushed cheek. "well, if that's really how you feel, then maybe i should just leave."

his bleeding heart had begged, cried, and screamed for him to take it back, to grab you in his arms and hold you until you stopped crying, for him to get on his knees and beg for your forgiveness until his bones ached and you smiled at him again.

but he didn't.

he just looked away from you, fists clenched, nails digging into his palms as he fought off tears of his own and muttered through gritted teeth, "maybe you should."

dean hadn't looked at you, but he had felt the weight of your stare as it burned through his bones. he still hadn't looked at you when you had muttered a broken, "fine", and walked over to the bed, and threw your stuff into your beat up duffle bag without a word.

you had stormed past him, your shoulder brushing his, but dean didn't stop you as you reached for the door. he only turned to face you when he heard you stop, forcing himself to keep a stoic expression, even as his aching mind, soul, and body begged him to grab you and not let you leave.

you had turned to face him then, your hand lingering on the doorknob, and he thinks a piece of his soul was chipped away when he saw the tears streaming down your cheeks.

dean had never used the term devastatingly beautiful, but that's what you had been then. because although the pain he had caused you was written on the features he cherished so much, tears dragging your makeup down your face, you still looked beautiful. devastatingly beautiful.

and even though the next words you had spoken had torn him into pieces, the beauty of you, inside and out, never left his rotten mind.

"i wish it wasn't so easy to love you."

dean snaps out of it as a mile sign whizzes by, and his vacant eyes flick to the speedometer to see that he's doing about twenty over the speed limit. he doesn't care though, all he cares about is that your heart is still beating. whether it's for him or not.

dean bursts into bobby's house, not bothering to knock as he rushes in, slamming the door behind him.

"bobby?" he calls out, trying to keep his voice level as no answer comes. "damnit, bobby, where are you?"

he's about to completely tear the place down when there's a rustling followed by heavy footsteps and a familiar voice. "don't blow the house down, boy, i'm right here."

bobby comes around the corner, into the hallway, and though usually there's a comfort in seeing the man dean considers a father figure, this time there's still an aching panic in his chest.

"where is she? is she okay? what happ-" dean cuts himself off as his eyes drift down to bobby's hands, which are covered in blood. your blood. "oh god.."

the old man seems to notice the look of pure terror on dean's face, and follows his gaze down to his hands, sighing at the sight of the blood.

"she's okay, dean," bobby tells him, taking a step towards him, and dean thinks he might be shaking. "there was a moment where-" he cuts himself off, looking away for a moment, as if debating what to say before he meets dean's gaze again. "there was a moment where i thought she wasn't, but she pulled through. she's okay now."

the moment the sincerity and truth of bobby's words rang through dean's head, he felt like he could finally breathe again. he let's out a deep exhale, wobbling slightly on his feet as he runs a hand over his face, cursing to himself softly.

after he takes a second to collect himself and calm his racing heart, he looks up at bobby, brow furrowed as he swallows down the suffocating panic. "can...can i see her?"

the old man hesitates, a protective edge in his eyes that makes dean realize that you probably told him everything. he watches as bobby thinks it over, before the old man sighs, his shoulders dropping slightly as he nods.

"yeah..you can see her," bobby agrees, but as dean takes a step forward, he holds up his hand, stopping dean in his tracks with a pointed look. "but i'm not so sure she's gonna want you there when she wakes up, kid. so if she opens her eyes and freaks out when she sees you, then y're gonna have to leave."

that chips another piece of dean's heart away, the fragment falling further into the pit of self despair that has been building in dean's chest since he hurt you and let you walk away from him.

"please, bobby," he rasps, his voice breaking slightly as emotions blur in his head. "i just need to see her. i...i just need to see she's okay."

the old man looks slightly shocked at the desperation in dean's voice, and something softens in his gaze. "she's been through a lot, boy," he sighs, giving dean a pointed look, though this time it's less menacing. "and i love you like my own, but right now she's my priority and if you being here is gonna stop her from healin', then i'm sorry dean, but y'cant stay."

dean nods, forcing himself to swallow the lump in his throat that threatens to choke him. "i don't wanna hurt her," he responds, his voice dropping to a pained whisper. "not more then i already have. i just- she called me, and hearin' her on the phone like that? thinkin' that might be the last time i ever hear her voice, on a fucking voicemail?"

he cuts himself off, averting his eyes from bobby as he forces the tears that burn behind his eyes to stay hidden. "i need to see her, bobby. please."

there's a moment of silence, and when dean lifts his eyes, bobby is staring right back at him, his expression slightly shocked at the rare display of emotions from him. but after a moment, the old man nods, stepping back and gesturing for dean to follow him.

at first he just stands there, but then he's rushing after bobby, each step determined but shaky as he follows the man into the main room.

dean's eyes scan the room, frantically searching for you, and when he finally does, he freezes.

you're laying on the couch, eyes closed and so pale. your skin is void of almost all of its usual color, your cheeks sunken and your lips chapped and sullen. the only thing keeping dean from passing out or falling to his knees in front of you and praying until you wake up is the shaky rise and fall of your chest that he can see under the blanket that bobby's placed over you.

said man places a comforting hand on dean's shoulder, but dean doesn't turn around, even as he hears bobby's footsteps echo down the hallway. he can't move his eyes from you, scared that if he does, you'll somehow slip from his grasp again.

he takes a couple hesitant steps closer and something curls in his gut, gripping his heart and wrenching it until it bleeds as he lets his eyes roam over your face. your familiar features are pale and sullen, but still, dean can't think of anything he's ever seen that's more beautiful than you.

devastatingly beautiful. that term pops into his head again, and this time, the words stab at something deep inside him, something he's always been too afraid to name.

because you are. and it's not just your features─though dean swears you could power a whole city just from smiling, the way it lights up your face─it's your mind, your soul, the way you laugh, the softness of your voice. it's everything. it's you.

you are devastatingly beautiful because you devastate him, crashing your way into his heart over and over again, making him high off you, making him never want to come down.

dean has to remind himself to breathe as he tentatively walks over to where you're laying, exhaling shakily before falling to his knees on the floor in front of you as if he was sitting in front of an altar, about to worship.

his now teary eyes scan over you, and before he can stop himself, he reaches a shaky hand out and brushes some of your hair out of your face.

lightning strikes through him as his skin touches yours, and he fights the urge to pull back, letting his fingertips lightly trace your cheek before his hand drifts down, finding your own and intertwining your fingers.

when he doesn't feel the familiar squeeze back of your hand, something in him breaks.

his head drops to your shoulder, his body shaking as quiet sobs tear from his chest, his teats staining the flannel you wore, his face buried into the fabric.

"i'm sorry,” he rasps through sobs, turning his head into your shoulder, burrowing into the skin of your neck, nausea creeping up his throat when he doesn’t feel your familiar warmth. he presses his lips against your skin, unable to stop the million apologies that spill from his lips. “i’m sorry, sweetheart, i'm so sorry. i love you, i’m sorry. ’m sorry, im so sorry.”

dean stays there, head pressed against you, sobbing quietly into your skin as he clings to you, praying to anyone that would listen that you would wake up. that you would come back to him and he could hold you in his arms and sob a million more apologies into your skin until you forgave him, even if he didn't deserve it.

he needed you to come back to him. he needed your touch, your kiss, your laughter, your stupid jokes that always made him laugh, your whispered words, and your loving stare.

he needed you.

and in that moment dean decided that when you woke up─not if, because he didn't know what he would do if he let himself think about that─he would try his damn hardest to get you back, because even though he doesn't think he deserves happiness, he knew he had it with you.

when you left, and took that piece of him with you, he broke. and all he wanted was to let you fix him again.

but you couldn't. because even as dean cried against you, you didn't stir, didn't flinch, the only reason he knew you were still hanging on was the shallow rise and fall of your chest under where his hand, intertwined with yours was rested firmly, and dean didn't know if he'd ever get that happiness back.

and as he sat there with you, at the foot of the altar he would give his all just to be worthy enough to worship, all he could think about was how he was begging for whatever God or being was listening that if they took you from him, they better fucking take him too.

because even if you hated him, even if you cursed him out, screamed at him to never talk to you again, dean didn't want to live in this world if you weren't in it.

bri's thoughts!: okay so this took me kinda long to finish, and was lowkey supposed to be out for my baby's birthday, but oh well. i don't rlly know if i like this, but i already started a part two, so lmk if anybody wants that! also my first time writing from dean's perspective and like angst so i apologize if this is bad, but i hope u enjoyed! (ps this is not proofread, and as always, was written at 1am, so this might be bad..)

TAGS!: (i don't rlly have a taglist so i just tagged some of my mutuals, but lmk if u wanna be added or removed) @ultravi0lence14 @bluemerakis @titsout4jackles @floralscented @soldiersgirl

#⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ foolinthera1n #bri writes #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester #dean winchester x you #supernatural #jensen ackles #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester angst #angst

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 2 days ago

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Hangover 7

Warnings: dubcon, noncon, other possible triggers. Proceed with caution.

Please leave any and all feedback! 💚💚💚💚💚💚

Part of The Club AU

You’re in a shell. Pain, disbelief, dread. The cruiser bumps over a pothole and you groan from the backseat. Storm snickers as he revs the engine then slams the brakes. You roll and throw your arm out to keep yourself from slipping onto the floor.

“How ya doin’ back there?” He taunts. “You break a hip, old lady?”

“Please,” you hiss through your teeth. “I didn’t-- what did I do to you?”

You lean back against the leather and shudder. The wheels spin again and he swerves around a corner. Your muscles rack as you hug yourself and shiver.

“That’s the thing about women. They can’t mind their own goddamn business. Can’t stay where they belong,” he snarls.

“I...” you blink and shake your head. Is that it? You embarrassed him by checking on him? By noticing him? He’s the one who walked into the diner in a half-stupour.

“What happened to the husband, huh? You sneak around behind his back? Or maybe you stopped opening your legs so he had to find someone who would?” He mocks.

You groan and brace your hip. You don’t care what he thinks. In that moment, you can only grit through the agony.

“Officer,” you plead in a wisp.

“I’m tired of hearing you. One more word and I pull over.”

You suck in a deep breath and wince. You believe him. His tone is deadly. You close your eyes and sink into yourself. It’s more than you. You caught him on a bad day. The wrong day.

Piecing together his words, it must be a woman. A break-up of some sort. The bitterness is telling. You’ve dealt with this kind before, it’s just be a while. Turns out, some things don’t change.

The car lurches to a stop and you whimper. He shifts into park and kills the engine. He lingers in the driver’s seat and thumps his fist on the steering wheel several times. It’s like he hasn’t quite decided what he’s doing.

He gets out and the axle shifts with the sudden dearth of weight. He pops open the back door and grabs your ankles. He drags you down the seat as you reach to grab onto anything that might save you. There’s no handles on the doors as they only lock from the outside.

He gets you to the edge of the seat and hauls you up by your elbows. He lifts you over his shoulder and you exclaim as it sends a pang through your hips. You’re helpless to his whims as all your strength is consumed fighting your own body.

He carries you up your own front steps. You’re less than reassured to be home. He digs around in your purse, dangling from his elbow, and unlocks your door. He takes you inside and treads past the mat in his scuffed and dirty boots.

He climbs the stares in a jarring pace. You know its intentional as each step makes you whine. He continues down the hallway, opening a closet, then the bathroom, before finding your bedroom. Without a care, he flips you onto the bed. You land with a shattered cry. Even the mattress is like laying on stone.

He looms over you, hands on his hips, slow, deep breaths as he considers you. You push yourself up on your elbows shakily. “Please, officer, I’m sorry--”

“Stop calling me that,” he unhooks his radio from his belt and stomps to your dresser. “Honey. Like at the diner.”

You gulp, “please... honey, I’m... I’m sorry that I--”

“Shhhh,” he hushes you as he unstraps his holster and checks his gun. He puts it down then unzips his coat.

He faces you, prowling closer as he peels off his coat. He throws it across the cushioned stool against the wall. He unbuttons his shirt, deliberate as his icy eyes pinpoint on you. You tremble and fall flat.

“You just gotta stay on your back. You been married, I’m sure you can handle that,” he snickers.

He strips off his shirt and flings it to the floor. He lifts his ribbed undershirt over his head and reveals his muscled torso, dark hair across his chest and down his stomach. He flexes in a silent threat and cracks his knuckles.

He unbuckles his belt as he steps closer to the bed. He opens his fly and climbs up onto his knees. He pulls your legs apart and drapes them over his as he kneels before you. He grips your hips and squeezes until you cry out.

He pushes your skirt high up your legs. He drags his hands under your ass and rumples it around your waist. He trails back down and pinches your thighs so they twitch. He snarls and smacks your left leg meanly.

“Officer Storm--”

“I’m tired of fucking repeating myself,” he growls.

“Honey,” you reach for his wrist and he swats you away.

“Don’t fucking move or I’ll break your spine,” grabs two of your fingers and bends them back until you whimper.

He lets go as you recoil, hands clasped over your chest. You puff out weakly as he traces along the seam of your nylons. He pokes beside it until your tights split and he wiggles against your panties. He dips his finger around the fabric, scratching you as he feels along your folds.

You gulp and your eyes sting with tears. This can’t be happening. Why is he doing this?

He grabs your wrist and wrenches your arm away from your chest. Your other falls limp and you push yourself into the mattress. He tugs at the top of your dress until the buttons give. He covers one side of your bra with his hand and kneads as he jams a finger into you.

You squeal and spasm, whining as another tide of pain flows through you. He forces himself in to his knuckles, the fabric pinching you as it tautens around his intrusion. He fondles you as he pulls in and out, searching you with the length of his finger.

“How long has it been, huh?” He shoves another finger into you so you whine. “Bet it feels like the first time.”

“Honey, please,” you beg as you show your palms. “Please don't hurt me.”

He laughs as rams his hand against you. “That’s up to you, baby. Better get wet and better do it fucking fast.”

#johnny storm #dark johnny storm #dark!johnny storm #johnny storm x reader #series #hangover #drabble #the club #fantastic four #marvel #au

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elizabethemerald · 14 hours ago

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Jim had a bad feeling and it only got worse. Obviously getting a call at three in the morning from a distant and estranged relative, desperate for help, would set off his instincts, but the situation only got worse the more he found out.

He and Barbara had left Gotham early the morning after the call from Jazz. His car was modified so Barbara could drive even without her legs, so the two of them took turns so they could keep going. Whenever he was driving, Babs had her computer on her lap and was typing away with an increasingly severe frown marring her face. When she took her turn driving he would use his own resources, calling in favors from the few honest cops in GPD and from other people around the city.

Everything they found just made the feeling in his gut worse and worse.

Obviously Jim had made some bad assumptions during the call and Danny was not necessarily in danger because he was trans, but he was still in danger. Jim's contacts ran into red tape as a powerful government organization blocked any attempts at investigating through above board means. Barbara's searches only managed to get a little more of the picture before she too was shut down, but rumors of a government lock down, of attacks from some extra planar threat, of the whole city getting sucked into a different dimension. This was all over his pay grade, but someone there had asked for his help, and he was going to give it.

He pulled to a stop just a few miles away from where his GPS showed only a blacked out square. He didn't know what he was about to drive into, but he had been raised in Gotham and he knew to follow his gut. Barbara looked at him curiously as he pulled off to the side of the road and unbuckled his seat belt.

"Get in contact with your cousin. Tell her to pack a bag for herself and Danny. We're not going to be stayer than it takes."

Then he stepped out and dialed a number he had memorized, but only used when things were the most dire. As always it rang twice before the other line picked up, and as always there was no response.

"Batman, this is Jim Gordon. The Justice League is needed in Amity Park, Illinois. I don't know what exactly is happening, but it goes against every moral in my body. I'm going to be extracting a pair of at risk teens. If I don't call again in a couple of hours send in the cavalry."

There was a couple of seconds of silence before Batman responded in his usual growling voice, "Understood."

Jim hung up and got back in the car just as Barbara was putting her own phone back in her pocket. He buckled up, and gripped the steering wheel, like he could choke the life out of it before stepping on the gas.

The two of them approached the city limits, the GPS blaring at them to turn around before Barbara reached over and shut it off. Just outside they saw the unmistakable sign of a government blockade. But Jim had lived through No Man's Land in Gotham. He knew how to deal with a blockade. His old car was a rough monstrosity compared to most of the world, but it was designed to survive in Gotham and modified without his consent by his caped allies. They blasted through the blockade with his middle finger pressed to the his window as he passed the government goons all in white.

They honked and shouted and green energy weapons flashed behind them, but Jim was already hurtling down the road into Amity. He grimaced as the air seemed to take on a green haze so even the sun seemed dim. He reached over to the glove box and opened it.

"Put your mask on." He ordered Barbara even as he pulled his own out from the central console. He put his on without stopping, years of dealing with the Joker and Scarecrow coming in handy as he drove with his knee on the wheel while he secured the mask.

Barbara had her own mask on and a map in her hand as she gave him instructions on how to navigate the city. Jim couldn't help that Amity looked almost worse than Gotham had during No Man's Land. The streets were torn up and covered in craters. The buildings were boarded up, or half bulldozed like the city had seen a fight between Superman and a dozen aliens. The few civilians walked scared, with their heads down, and hurried from place to place. Concernedly they did not have any masks, but Jim wasn't going to trust Barbara's health just because others didn't see the risk.

His tires squealed as he turned the final corner. He could clearly see the monstrosity that his wife's brother and his wife had built on top of their house. He could only imagine what exactly they had gotten up to in that thing. He stopped his car in front of the house and was out, marching up to the door with the engine still running almost before Barbara had finished bracing from the sudden stop.

He pounded his fist against the door for a few minutes. He stepped back ready to kick the door down when it was opened from the inside. He could see the orange hair, and a wide panicked eye of his niece through the crack of the door.

"Jazz, let's go, its time to leave. Where's your brother? Where's your parents?" Jim was tempted to stay around and let his brother and sister in law have a few choice words, but right now he needed to get the kids to safety.

"Who- Wait, Uncle Jim?" She opened the door a little more, naked relief showing through the signs of terror on her face.

"Yes. I told you I would come for you, didn't I?" He said.

Jazz stepped back, her shoulders shaking, though no tears showed. She opened the door fully and turned away.

"Danny is leading our parents away. I'll call him while I grab our bags." She turned away and ran back into the house, putting in a strange ear piece as she climbed the stairs.

Jim looked around the living room, his concern growing for these kids with each glance. There were weapons, whole and in pieces on every bit of furniture. There were puddles and stains of some strange green fluid all over the floor, and some was actively dripping from a leak on the ceiling. The refrigerator shook and wobbled like there was something alive inside that was actively trying to escape. He wanted to stay to take pictures for evidence, but he would just have to trust that Batman had taken his warning seriously and would take over.

Jazz came clattering down the stairs a few minutes later, duffel bags over each shoulder, a bag in her hand, and a pack on her back. Jim reached for his gun as the backdoor slid open, but hid the motion when Danny stumbled in, clutching a bleeding wound on his side.

"Jazz, wha-" He looked in concern at Jim, especially with his gas mask, but neither of them were giving the boy a moment to process.

Jim took a handful of Jazz's bags while she grabbed her brother and pushed him out the door. Jazz shoved Danny into back seat, and the two of them arranged the bags around Barbara's wheelchair. Jazz looked like she was about to try have them leave her behind for whatever self-sacrificing reason she had come up, but Jim wasn't about to have that and pushed her in next to her brother. She looked at him betrayed for a moment as the child locks prevented either of them from opening the back doors. He didn't care. She could be angry at him later, once they were all out of this city.

By the time he was back in the drivers seat, Barbara had pulled the big first aid kit out from under her seat and was passing it back to Jazz to get Danny taken care of. He pulled away from the curb and raced to the end of the street. He squealed around the corner just as some kind of fucking tank pulled around the corner behind them.

"Are you going to be able to get us out of the city?" Jazz asked, her voice panicked as Danny turned around to watch the tank immediately give chase.

"Please, I'm an officer in Gotham City. This is just a Thursday for us." Jim said without taking his eyes off the road.

Jim Gordon might not have powers, or the training that the Bats have, but he had experience, and his car had been modified a thousand times. He knew it was the weird love language of the Gotham Vigilantes, trying to keep him safe in the hell that was being a good cop in GPD.

He needed every ounce of his decades of experience to navigate Amity and stay ahead of the tank that was taking shots at them whenever they could. He snarled as he caught a glimpse of the Fenton logo on the side. The elder Fentons didn't even care that they were taking out street signs and mailboxes. Jim was sure that if there were any citizens out on the road, they would have been run down by the reckless driving.

Barbara typed away on her computer, while Jazz tried to patch up her brother in the backseat of the moving car. Jim didn't know what his daughter was doing, but knew better than to ask questions. The tank behind them suddenly taking a hard right into a mostly demolished building as she cheered showed she was successful.

"I hacked their steering." Barbara said triumphantly.

"That probably won't hold them long." Danny said.

"It doesn't need to." Jim said, and he let his foot fall harder on the accelerator.

After out driving the Fentons, the government blockade was easy to bypass, and once they were on the open road, Jim really let the lead out and took off pushing 90. He was an officer of the law, the highway was empty and he had two scared and injured kids in the car, plus his daughter. He could be forgiven for breaking a few speeding laws.

A few miles outside of the city the crackle of static from his radio signaled that they were successfully outside the government quarantine. They had made it.

Jazz sobbed in relief, while Danny looked like he couldn't decide between worried and elated. Barbara smiled at him and grabbed his hand where it sat on the wheel, both of them removing their masks. He had his niece and nephew out of the city. The rest was in the Justice League's hands.

Jazz's parents have gotten worse, their passion has turned into an obsession. Her parents don't even know that they are hunting their son every day. Jazz makes a tough call and rings up her uncle-in-law whom she has not had contact with in years.

Commissioner Gordon was not expecting to get a phone call at three in the morning; especially not from an estranged niece that he had seen a handful of times. The last time he seen that side of the family was before his wife had died.

Now he's driving halfway across the country with a confused daughter to meet up with the said estranged family.

#writing emerald #dp x dc #jim gordon #barbara gordon #danny fenton #jazz fenton #kind of had a mad max/fury road feel to this chapter #never doubt a gotham city driver #they have to deal with regular attacks bombs plants ice penguins #they know how to get to their fucking destination #Would y'all like another chapter of this?#maybe Jim comforting Danny and Jazz?#or adopting them?

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nilla03 · 15 hours ago

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𝑈𝑁𝐷𝐸𝑅 𝑇𝐻𝐸 𝐻𝑂𝑂𝐷’

𝑃𝑙𝑜𝑡：𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑐𝑎𝑟 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑟𝑡𝑠 𝑚𝑎𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎 𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑒 𝑛𝑜𝑖𝑠𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑛𝑒𝑒𝑑 𝑎𝑟𝑚𝑖𝑛 𝑡𝑜 𝑓𝑖𝑥 𝑖𝑡

𝐶𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑎𝑖𝑛𝑠：𝑚𝑒𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑖𝑐 𝑎𝑟𝑚𝑖𝑛！，𝑠ℎ𝑦 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟

“Damn it…” you groaned, slamming your hands against the steering wheel. You were so close to reaching your vacation destination, but your car had other plans. The engine sputtered, making the most awful grinding sound that made your stomach drop.

You frantically dug through your purse, heart racing as you searched for the card your friend had given you—just in case something like this happened. After a few desperate seconds, your fingers brushed against a light orange business card, and you let out a relieved sigh. It read “The Wrench & Ink”—the name looked bold and cool in thick black letters, and the address was just past Solvang.

Without hesitation, you threw the card back into your bag, turned the key again, and despite the ominous rattling from under the hood, you pushed the gas pedal down. You had no choice but to keep going, praying you’d make it to the shop without breaking down completely.

You pulled into the parking lot of The Wrench & Ink, your car still making those weird, unsettling noises. You cut the engine, the rattling finally coming to a halt.

As you climbed out, the warm summer air hit you, the sun hanging low in the sky, casting a golden glow over the small mechanic shop

The place had an old-school charm, with rusty signs, a couple of vintage cars parked out front, and an unmistakable vibe that was both gritty and cool. You hesitated for a second, glancing around nervously, before stepping inside.

That's when you saw him.

Tall, broad, with grease-streaked hands and a fitted black t-shirt that clung to his frame in ways you shouldn’t be noticing, a name tag with a dark font “Armin “

His blond hair was slightly messy, pushed back just enough to reveal the sharp cut of his jaw, the piercing blue of his eyes—eyes that raked over you the second he saw you standing at the counter. And the tattoos—God, the tattoos.

Black ink curled around his forearms, disappearing beneath his sleeves. You caught glimpses of more when he wiped sweat from his brow, revealing something scrawled along his ribs.

You tried not to stare. You really did. But then he smirked. “You lost, sweetheart? Don’t think I’ve seen you around before.” His voice was deep, smooth, teasing—the kind that made your stomach tighten.

“I, um… my car,” you manage, feeling ridiculous for how easily he’s unraveling you. “It’s making this weird noise, and—”

“Lemme guess.” He steps closer, leaning a little too far over the counter, crowding your space in a way that makes you forget how to breathe. “Rattling under the hood? Maybe a little grinding?”

You nod, caught in the way his lips curl like he’s enjoying your reaction. “Yeah,” you murmur.

“Mm.” He hums, tapping a finger against the counter, blue eyes dragging over you—slow, assessing. “Could be a lot of things, sweetheart. Might take some time to figure out.” You swallow. “How long?” His smirk deepens. “Couple hours. Maybe more.”

You know exactly what he’s doing. And judging by the way his fingers lazily trace over his own wrist, over the ink decorating his skin, he knows you know.

“I, um—”

“You shy?” he interrupts, head tilting slightly, the glint in his eyes downright wicked. Heat floods your face. “I—no, I just—”

His chuckle is low, rich with amusement. before nodding toward the garage. “C’mon, sweetheart. Let’s take a look at what I’m working with.”

You’re pretty sure he’s not talking about the car. And when his hand just barely brushes your lower back as he leads you inside

You know for a fact this is going to take longer than a couple of hours.

The deep rumble of the garage door closing sent a shiver down your spine. The air was thick with the scent of motor oil, grease, and something undeniably masculine-something that belonged to him.

Armin wiped his hands off on a rag, his tattoos flexing with each movement of his toned arms. He looked up at you from where he stood, leaning against your car with that same cocky smirk that made your stomach twist. His blue eyes glinted under the dim garage lights, like he already knew what he wanted-and he knew you'd give it to him.

"Car's good as new," he said, voice low, rough around the edges. "But we got one little problem."

You swallowed hard. "Wh-What problem?"

Armin took a step forward, closing the space between you with slow, deliberate ease. "You didn't bring enough cash to cover the full job, sweetheart." He tilted his head, feigning disappointment. "Now, what are we gonna do about that?"

Your breath hitched as he reached out, fingers grazing the hem of your top, his touch just enough to make your skin prickle with anticipation.

"I-I can go to the ATM," you stammered, trying to keep your voice steady.

Armin chuckled-low, deep, teasing. "Nah," he said, voice dripping with something dangerous. "I think we can work something out right here."

Before you could protest, his hands rough and firm, pulling you against his solid frame. The cold metal of his belt buckle pressed against your belly, sending sparks throughout your body.

Armin's fingers traced slow, lazy circles along the soft skin of your lower stomach. his touch rough from years of working with his hands. His calloused fingers dragged over the thin fabric of your tanktop.

"Look at you," he murmured, tilting your chin up with his knuckle, forcing you to meet his gaze. His blue eyes were dark, half-lidded, hungry. "All shy, all quiet... but I bet you've thought about this before, haven't you?"

Your breath hitched, heat flooding your face. "I-"

Armin chuckled, low and knowing.

"Thought so," he mused, his fingers dipping under the hem of your top, skimming against your tan skin.

The garage felt too small, the walls closing in, trapping you in the heat of his presence.

The faint scent of oil and leather clung to him, mixing with the warmth of his collective tan skin as he leaned in, his lips just barely grazing your jaw.

"You ever been touched like this before, sweetheart?" he muttered against your skin, voice rough with amusement. One hand slid lower, settling on your hip with a possessive grip.

You shook your head, breath shaky. "N-No..."

Armin groaned softly, his fingers tightening, his other hand tilting your chin up higher. "Fuck, that's cute," he murmured. "Shy little thing... letting me be the first”

"Still wanna pay me in cash?" he taunted

Your hands gripped his shirt, your body already betraying you. "I-"

Armin smirked against your neck, his fingers tightening just enough to make you gasp.

“Yeah, that's what I thought."

#armin arlert #armin x reader #armin smut #attack on titan #attack on titan smut #armin aot #armin arlert smut #armin arlert oneshot #anime #anime men #fanfic #armin is a mechanic #blue collar men #aot x reader #aot smut

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samwellwinchesterthebrave · 2 days ago

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BuckTommyFluffebruary day 1: Nonsexual Intimacy

I'm participating in this fluff prompt challenge from @bucktommyfluffebruary because I love fluff and, of course, bucktommy.

The Comfort of Loving Hands

Read on ao3

Tommy turned his truck off and just sat in silence. His body ached and his heart hurt. It had been a rough shift, rough enough that he wasn't sure where he was going to find the energy to walk into his house. Well, his and Evan's house now. A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth for a second or two before exhaustion took over again. Even knowing Evan was waiting inside wasn't enough to get him moving. He sank forward until his forehead was resting on the steering wheel. His eyes closed and he thought he could just sleep here.

An unknowing time later, a quiet tapping at his window startled him. He turned his head slowly to see Evan smiling at him through the window. A touch of worry and sympathy filled his eyes.

“Hey, you feel ready to come inside yet?” Evan asked, his voice muffled by the window. “Lucy texted that there was a bad call near the end of your shift. I made soup, if you feel up to eating.”

Tommy groaned, levering himself back up. He scrubbed a hand over his face. A slight pain in the side of his neck warned him that, even though he could just sleep here, his body would regret it in the morning. Finally, Tommy nodded and managed to get himself out of the truck. Without a word, Evan folded him into his arms and just held him for a long moment. As he pressed a soft kiss to Tommy's temple, Tommy let some of the tension that tangled his muscles go.

“C'mon, sweetheart, let's get you inside,” Evan murmured, pressing another kiss to Tommy's temple. “Food and then I'll take more care of you.”

Tommy nodded, hiding the yawn that stretched his jaw against Evan's shoulder. They walked slowly into the house, Tommy letting a good portion of his weight rest on Evan. As soon as the scent hit him when they walked inside, he groaned in pleasure. The house was redolent with the savory scents of chicken and dumpling soup and fresh baked bread. They headed to the kitchen where slices of bread, a little dish of soft butter, and two steaming bowls of soup sat on the table. Glasses of water cold with condensation looked like the greatest treasure in the world. The back of Tommy's throat burned and the taste of smoke lingered.

As soon as Tommy sat, he picked up the glass of water and drank like a man dying of thirst. The slick cold finally eased the burn and washed away the smoke. He finished the glass on a single breath, letting out a whooshing sigh as he set the glass down again. Evan took it and refilled it, setting it on the table as he stroked a hand over Tommy's shoulders.

“If and when you're ready to talk, I'm here,” Evan said as he settled into his own seat next to Tommy. “Until then, I hope you enjoy the soup.”

Tommy nodded, not trusting his voice yet. Sorrow mingled with a growing sense of wonder at the care Evan was showing him. Both conspired to make him unable to speak just yet. So he took a slice of bread, spread some butter on it, and dunked it into his soup. The first bite had him groaning again in appreciation. His stomach woke up and demanded more. For several minutes, he and Evan ate in silence. Every once in a while, Evan reached across and rubbed a hand over his shoulder or squeezed his thigh. Just keeping contact between them and letting him know he was there. Tommy’s heart swelled with love.

It wasn't until his bowl was almost empty that he found the strength to talk.

“We... we lost a lot of people today,” he started slowly, staring at the last couple dumplings floating in his bowl. “I don't know how much Lucy told you.”

“Just that there was a building collapse and it was bad,” Evan said, squeezing Tommy’s thigh again. “She said you were gonna be hit hard by it. And the text you sent me about your shift being almost over made me think you were having a hard time. It was distant. Like you were trying to focus on something else.”

“Yeah,” Tommy nodded, setting his spoon down to rub his hand over his face again. “I was trying not to fall apart. The collapse... I was hovering over the roof at the time. Saw a victim and another firefighter fall through the roof.”

“I'm so sorry, Tommy,” Evan said softly, scooting his chair a little closer to press his shoulder against Tommy's.

“That was the beginning of it,” Tommy continued, leaning into Evan's shoulder. He pushed his bowl away, unable to face eating more while memories played through his mind. “It was a four story apartment building. Fire spread quick. I'm sure there were some corners cut in construction. The smoke alarms didn't go off so people were trapped.”

Evan didn't say anything, just let Tommy talk. He knew, had been through similar calls. Evan had lost people before too. Evan knew sometimes all you needed was silence and closeness. When Tommy drew in a shaky breath, he draped an arm over Tommy’s shoulders and pulled him close.

“Ground ops was working frantically to try to get people out. A few managed to get out windows after the fire cut off the stairwells,” Tommy said, his voice starting to shake. He tangled his fingers together and squeezed his hands tightly. “I was coming back for the third time, going to pick up a burn victim. The first two trips were just getting people off the roof, so they were quick.”

“The third was when the collapse started?” Evan asked softly when Tommy stopped talking for several shaky breaths. He rubbed a hand over Tommy's back when tears started tracking down his cheeks.

“He was almost in the helicopter,” Tommy whispered, eyes closing as he remembered that moment. “Lucy was with me and she was reaching for him to help him up. I don't know who the other firefighter was. I couldn't spare too much time to look. Not with needing to control the hover.”

“We'll find out,” Evan promised. “I know it's important so we'll find out who they were.”

“It is and we will,” Tommy nodded. He opened his eyes to press a soft kiss to Evan's lips. “The victim too. I want to know his name. He deserves that.”

“Of course,” Evan replied. “Are you okay? You don't have to keep telling me about what happened if you're not okay.”

“I'm not okay but I think I need to get this out,” Tommy shook his head. A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth again. “It was quick, just like how the fire spread. One moment, the roof was mostly solid. The next, it was gone. I heard screams from both the firefighter and the victim as they disappeared. I could hear more rumbling and crashing as floor after floor followed. Then Lucy was yelling that we needed to go. She managed to close the door as a gout of flame roared up around the helicopter. Then I left. The captain radioed to have the helicopter head back to Harbor. There wasn't any more we could do.”

“Lucy texted me on the flight,” Evan murmured, kissing Tommy's temple again. “She told me you were gonna need me and that she was going to go get drunk when her shift ended.”

“Well, Lucy knows what she wants and doesn't hesitate to go for it,” Tommy chuckled. “I'm sure she's doing exactly that right now. But thank you, Evan, for listening. And for dinner. It all helped.”

“Of course, sweetheart,” Evan said, rubbing his hand over Tommy's back again. “I'm always here. Are you done eating? I have something else planned for you.”

Tommy nodded but picked up his glass to finish off his water. It helped wash away the phantom scent of smoke the memories brought back. As he drank, Evan bustled around the kitchen cleaning up. It didn't take long for the dishes to make their way to the dishwasher and for the soup and bread to be packed away. Then, taking Tommy's hand, Evan led him back through their bedroom and into the bathroom.

For a few moments, Tommy froze in the doorway as he took in the sight of the bathroom. The overhead light was off but the room was filled with a buttery golden light. Electric candles littered the counter and a few rested at the inner corners of the tub. A bottle of bath gel sat on the edge of the tub along with a bottle of shampoo and a wash cloth. Also, incongruously, a small coffee mug. Tommy's favorite robe hung on the hook next to the shower stall that usually held a towel. It was soft and fluffy, like being enveloped by a cloud.

“I thought you might need something to help relax you,” Evan said, squeezing Tommy's hand before letting go. He turned the water on in the tub, adjusting it until it steamed. Then he turned to Tommy and started undressing him. “C'mon, let me take care of you.”

Tommy let himself be nudged and turned, stepping out of his jeans and balancing with one hand on Evan's shoulder when asked. When Tommy was nude, Evan wrapped his hands around Tommy's hips and moved him towards the tub. Then he stripped quickly out of his own clothes. He stepped away from Tommy long enough to pour some of the bath gel into the water. The sharp, clean scent of lavender filled the room. Then he slid into the tub and tugged Tommy after him.

Tommy went gratefully, settling back against Evan's chest. Their legs stretched out along the length of the tub. Once again, Tommy was grateful that when he'd remodeled the bathroom years ago, he'd splurged on the oversized tub. There was barely enough room for the two of them. But they fit. He let out a deep sigh as his head tipped back to settle on Evan's shoulder. When Evan leaned forward to shut the water off, he let out a small sound of discontent.

“Sorry, sweetheart, don't want to flood the room,” Evan murmured against Tommy's ear. He wrapped an arm around Tommy's waist and hugged him. “How's that?”

“ ‘s good,” Tommy whispered, closing his eyes. The warmth of the water was relaxing his muscles the rest of the way. Exhaustion tugged at him and he let his body sag against Evan's.

“Good,” Evan replied. “I love you, you know.”

“I love you,” Tommy smiled without opening his eyes. He managed to lift one tired arm and patted the arm around his waist. “Thank you for this too. I appreciate it.”

Evan hummed in response. He pressed kisses along Tommy's temple and along the side of his head. As he did, his free arm rubbed over Tommy’s shoulder and arm. He massaged the side he could reach in long, slow strokes. A warm, golden silence grew between them as Tommy slowly relaxed against his chest. After a time, Evan switched arms, wrapping his free arm around Tommy’s waist and hugging him before releasing his other arm.

Using the same slow, liquid motions, Evan repeated the massage on Tommy’s other shoulder and arm. Through the careful way Evan stroked over his skin and the simple fact that he held him without letting him go, the memories receded enough to stop hurting as sharply. They became something he could face without feeling as if he’d failed completely. Yes, lives had been lost. Yes, some of those lives had been just inches from safety. But he’d done everything he could and he had saved people. The collapse wasn’t his fault nor were the lives lost. He had done everything he could. Now, in the shelter of Evan’s arms, he could let go of the guilt. Sadness and grief took its place but that was all right. Those weren’t new emotions. Nor was this the last time he would feel them. But now, he could feel the loss and, eventually, move on from it.

About the time his mind had worked through that chain of thought, Evan stopped massaging his shoulder and arm. After placing another kiss on top of his head, Evan leaned forward enough to grab the shampoo bottle. Tommy heard the top clicking open and a soft, slick sound as Evan presumably squeezed shampoo into his hand. Then, gentle but sure fingers were carding through his hair and scratching over his scalp. Tommy let out a moan as Evan tilted his head up a little to reach the back. A quiet chuckle answered the moan but neither broke the silence with words. Evan continued to massage his fingers through Tommy’s hair and against his scalp, working the shampoo in. Tommy let his head be moved as Evan wanted it, his eyes still closed. It was heavenly, putting himself completely into Evan’s hands, knowing that he could trust him with every part of himself.

The scent of the shampoo overwhelmed the last clinging scents of sweat and smoke. Of course, Tommy had showered at Harbor before leaving but it had been quick. More to wash the worst of the call off him so that he wouldn’t drag it into his truck. Now, with Evan’s careful ministrations, he was truly getting clean. Another moan rumbled in his throat as Evan’s nails scratched over the back of his head just above the nape of his neck. Then, his fingers pushed through his hair from the base of his skull all the way up over the curve of his head and to the edge of his hairline. Then, they spidered their way through the sides of Tommy’s hair before massaging behind the curve of Tommy’s ears.

“Okay, baby, tilt your head back so I can rinse the shampoo out,” Evan murmured. “Keep your eyes closed for me.”

There was a quiet clink against the tub then warm water was pouring over his head a moment later. It took Tommy a moment but then he realized it must be that coffee mug he’d seen earlier. Now its presence made sense. As more water flowed over his head, he smiled as Evan’s fingers combed through his hair. The warm water threatened to put him to sleep each time Evan poured it over his head. Finally, some time later, Evan put the mug back on the edge of the tub and pressed another kiss to the top of his head.

“Hey, you still awake, Tommy?” Evan asked, rubbing a hand over Tommy’s shoulder and down to his collarbone.

“Mmmm,” Tommy hummed in reply, feeling too comfortable to actually speak.

“Okay, next part,” Evan replied. “You can keep your eyes closed. Just let me move you, okay?”

“Mmmm,” Tommy hummed again.

He heard some indistinct movements though he couldn’t quite what they were. There was a rubbing sound, like cloth between hands. Then a soft, warm, fluffy weight tracked over his shoulders. He could smell more lavender and the sharp, clean scent was soothing. After several seconds, as the weight moved over both his shoulders and down one arm, he realized it was the wash cloth he’d seen earlier. Evan was washing his skin, cleansing the last lingering bits of the call that clung to him. Tears gathered in his eyes as Tommy moved his arm up when Evan nudged his elbow. None of his previous partners had ever done this for him. Most of the time, he was the one caring and pampering and spoiling. Though it wasn’t like his previous partners just ignored him. But it was never this level of care and love.

A tear leaked out of one eye and trickled slowly down his cheek. With one arm being slowly and gently washed and the other too tired to move, he didn’t wipe it away. It took a few seconds but Evan noticed the tear. One thumb wiped it away, lingering at the corner of Tommy’s eye for a few seconds. The thumb was replaced by Evan’s lips, the kiss lingering even longer.

“You okay?” Evan asked as he threaded his fingers through the fingers of the hand he was washing. “Do you want me to stop?”

“No, don’t stop,” Tommy shook his head, cracking his eyes open and meeting Evan’s gaze. “Please don’t.”

“All right. Can you tell me what you’re thinking?” Evan asked. He squeezed Tommy’s hand then let it go to rub the cloth back up his arm.

“It’s just... you. No one’s ever done something like this for me. No one but you,” Tommy said slowly, his voice catching. “Taken care of me like this.”

“I’m glad to do it,” Evan murmured, his expression impossibly soft and fond. He moved the cloth over the back of Tommy’s neck and down his other arm. “I want to show you how much I love you.”

“You do. I feel like my insides are too small to contain how much you make me feel,” Tommy admitted. “I love you so much.”

Evan smiled and kissed him. The kiss was soft and tender, lingering in the gentle brush of lips. It was as much a promise as a gesture of affection; the promise that they were here, together, and Evan wasn’t going anywhere. Neither was Tommy, for that matter. This was it. For both of them. As they kissed, Evan moved the cloth back up Tommy’s arm and down over his chest. The motion was as slow as the kiss, enjoying being present together. After several long heartbeats, Evan broke the kiss.

“Can you lean forward for me so I can wash your back?” Evan asked, pressing gently on the back of Tommy’s shoulders.

Instead of answering, Tommy leaned forward following the pressure of Evan’s fingers. He propped his elbows on his legs and rested his chin on his hands. Closing his eyes again as the cloth wiped slowly over his back, he luxuriated in the intimacy and love. And, as the cloth moved over his lower back and curled around one hip, he marveled at the fact that, while it could have turned more passionate, it didn’t. Passion between them could be quick, a match strike lighting both of them up. But that wasn’t what either wanted now. Not what they were both basking in at the moment.

After soft nudges and gentle prods from Evan convinced him that Tommy was settled in his position, Evan moved to sit on the edge of the tub. He lifted one of Tommy’s legs and swiped the cloth over it in long, smooth motions. When he was sure every inch of Tommy’s leg was cleaned, he switched to the other leg. It got the same treatment, held carefully in Evan’s hand so that Tommy didn’t feel unsteady. After his second leg was set back in the hot water, Evan nudged his legs apart so he could settle in between them, facing Tommy. Tommy leaned back against the back of the tub, giving Evan room.

“What are you doing now?” Tommy asked, opening his eyes.

“Well, all that’s left is the front of your neck and your face,” Evan said, waving the cloth as he spoke. Soapy bubbles burbled on the cloth. “Do you want me to do it or do you want to?”

“I trust you,” Tommy said simply. He smiled when Evan inhaled sharply, his eyes wide. Then he closed his eyes and tilted his face up a little.

After a couple silent seconds, the cloth touched the base of his throat. It moved up slowly over his neck, Evan’s fingers curling around the sides of his throat. Tommy swallowed automatically, tears prickling his eyes again. They weren’t laced with grief or sadness this time. Instead it was pure awe and love. The cloth moved up over his chin, Evan’s thumb slotting into the cleft for a moment like it belonged there. It slid to one cheek, sliding up and over his cheekbone before coming back down to his chin. Then it went to his other cheek, repeating the motion. After it came back to his chin, Evan moved the cloth ever so gently over his lips and up the point of his nose. It tickled, making him chuckle a bit. Evan repeated the motion, laughing with him when Tommy chuckled again.

“Didn’t think you’d be ticklish here,” Evan commented, letting his thumb trace Tommy’s bottom lip. “Or is it just the cloth?”

“The cloth, I think,” Tommy replied, kissing the pad of Evan’s thumb. “But it’s not too bad.”

“Good. Almost done.”

The cloth moved up the bridge of Tommy’s nose. It swiped to the sides, tracing the shape of his nose, before continuing up onto his forehead. Then, in a long, slow sweeps, it moved side to side over the width of his forehead. He could hear the soap bubbles popping on his skin. Finally, the cloth curled over his ears and behind. After that, he could hear the cloth being dunked in the water and squeezed out. Then, the cloth moved over his face again, clearing away all the soap bubbles. Once his face was clean, Evan used the cloth to wipe away the soap over the rest of his body. Then, the water shifted as Evan stood up and pulled the plug to let the water drain.

“Okay, Tommy, let’s get you up,” Evan said as he stepped out of the tub. He grabbed a towel that was sitting next to the candles on the counter and held it with one hand. The other, he extended towards Tommy.

“Yeah, yeah, give me a second,” Tommy replied, one corner of his mouth tilting up in a small smirk. “My boyfriend appears to have made all my muscles turn to jelly.”

Evan laughed and shook the towel enticingly at him while wiggling his fingers. After a long breath, Tommy took Evan’s hand and heaved himself to his feet. Water cascaded down his body and he didn’t miss the way Evan’s eyes traced the droplets. He smirked again as he squeezed Evan’s hand. Then he was stepping carefully out of the tub and pressing a kiss to Evan’s lips. The towel wrapped around him even as Evan kissed him back. They kissed for a honey-sweet eternity, Evan’s hand rubbing up and down Tommy’s back.

Tommy could have stayed in that moment forever except his damp skin caused a chill to shiver up his spine. He could feel goosebumps prickling his arms. They broke the kiss and Evan shivered himself. They shared a smile and Evan toweled them both off with sure, quick motions. Then he grabbed Tommy’s robe and wrapped him in it. He tied the belt with a look of concentration on his face, as if Tommy’s comfort in this moment was the most important thing in the world. Tommy had to cup Evan’s face in his hands and kiss him about it.

“Thank you, again, for all this,” Tommy said when he broke the kiss. Though he stayed close enough that his breath feathered over Evan’s lips. “I don’t have the words for how thankful I am, baby.”

“Of course,” Evan replied, pressing another quick kiss to Tommy’s lips. “I know what it feels like to have a bad call. I know how bad it can get. Are you feeling better?”

“Yes,” Tommy nodded. “Still sad but it’s better. It’s not overwhelming.”

He started to say something else but a yawn stretched his mouth so wide that his jaw cracked. As soon as he closed his mouth, he yawned again. The energy that dinner had given him had sustained him through the bath. Now, it was all draining away. All he wanted to do was curl up with Evan in bed and fall asleep.

Which seemed to be what Evan had in mind as well.

With another chuckle, Evan took his hand and threaded their fingers together. He led the way out to the bedroom and pulled Tommy into the bed. They settled with Evan on his back and Tommy curled into his side with his head resting over Evan’s heart. He could hear the steady beat under his cheek. It sounded strong and sure, as if it would beat until the end of the world. Evan covered them both up and tangled their legs together under the blankets.

“Go to sleep,” he murmured, pressing another kiss to Tommy’s forehead. “I’ve got you.”

“G’night, baby,” Tommy murmured, turning his head enough to lay a kiss over Evan’s heart. “Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

Those words followed Tommy into sleep, Evan’s arms wrapped around him and his heart beating under his cheek.

#bucktommy #tevan #bucktommyfluffebruary #sam writes fic #sam rambles

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trashremover43 · 2 days ago

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@bucktommyfluffebruary

non sexual intimacy/ falling asleep/ waking up together for the first time

Unspoken, Unbreakable

The night air was cool, slipping through the cracked window of buck’s truck as they drove away from the hospital. Buck was slouched in the passenger seat, eyes half-lidded but refusing to let exhaustion win just yet. His body ached from the day’s events—searching for Chimney, the panic, the adrenaline crash, and then the sheer relief of seeing him safe and getting married in that tiny hospital room.

But none of it compared to the relief of seeing Tommy step through those hospital doors.

Even now, Buck couldn’t stop himself from glancing at him, the image seared into his brain—Tommy still in his turnout gear, his face streaked with soot, exhaustion clinging to him like a second skin. And yet, he had still come. He had kept his promise.

"You're staring," Tommy said without taking his eyes off the road. His voice was hoarse, tired, but laced with that dry amusement Buck had come to love.

"I'm appreciating."

Tommy huffed a laugh, shaking his head slightly. "That what we're calling it?"

"Uh-huh. It’s what we’re calling the fact that I missed you today," Buck said, shifting slightly to face him better. "We barely talked. Do you know how weird that was?"

Tommy exhaled through his nose, his grip tightening on the wheel. "Yeah. I noticed."

There it was—that quiet confession, the way Tommy always let his guard down just enough when it was Buck. Buck smiled, reaching over to squeeze Tommy’s forearm.

"You should stay over tonight."

Tommy’s eyes flicked toward him, his lips pressing together in thought. "Evan—"

Buck shivered. That name. The way Tommy said it, soft but firm, never laced with disappointment or indifference like his parents’ voices had been.

"You’re exhausted," Tommy continued, as if he weren’t just as bad off. "You should sleep."

"Yeah, and I’d sleep better if you were there," Buck shot back without thinking. Tommy’s fingers flexed on the wheel, and Buck felt the shift in the air between them. "C’mon, you missed me too. I know you did."

Tommy sighed, shaking his head again, but there was a small, fond smile tugging at his lips. "Yeah. I did."

Buck beamed. "So, you’ll stay?"

Tommy glanced at him again, taking in Buck’s hopeful expression, and then let out a quiet chuckle. "Fine. But I’m picking the pizza toppings."

"Absolutely not."

"Then I’m going home."

Buck gasped dramatically. "You wouldn’t!"

Tommy smirked. "You wanna test that theory?"

"Ugh. Fine. You can pick half the toppings. But if you try putting pineapple on there, I’m breaking up with you."

Tommy barked out a real laugh at that, and Buck felt it settle deep in his chest, warm and steady.

Yeah. This was safety.

The pizza had arrived at the same time they did, and after a quick, exhausted argument about whether or not Tommy’s ridiculous topping choices made it inedible (they didn’t, but Buck refused to admit it), they decided that food could wait until they weren’t covered in sweat, soot, and hospital air.

Buck’s loft had only one bathroom, which usually wasn’t an issue—except now, neither of them had the patience to wait for the other to finish.

"Shower together?" Buck suggested before he could overthink it.

Tommy arched an eyebrow.

"For efficiency!" Buck rushed to add, his face heating.

Tommy’s lips twitched, but he nodded. "Alright."

And suddenly, Buck was nervous.

They had kissed, had held each other, had touched in ways that left his skin buzzing. But this—this was different. This was uncharted territory, seeing each other bare in a way that wasn’t just about skin.

When they stepped under the warm spray, Buck could barely breathe. Tommy was breathtaking, his body honed from years of discipline, muscles flexing as he ran a hand through his wet hair. But it wasn’t just that—it was the intimacy of it, the quiet way Tommy reached for the soap and, without hesitation, started washing Buck’s shoulders, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Buck swallowed hard.

"You don’t have to—"

"Let me," Tommy murmured, voice quiet, almost reverent.

Buck exhaled shakily, nodding. He let Tommy move slowly, trailing over his arms, his back, tracing over old scars like he was memorizing them. Buck did the same in return, washing away the day’s exhaustion, his fingers lingering on the dips and ridges of Tommy’s body, over the curve of his jaw, the line of his spine.

When their eyes met, the air shifted again.

Neither of them moved for a moment, water streaming over their skin, steam curling around them. Then, Buck reached up, cradling Tommy’s face, and pressed their lips together.

It wasn’t rushed or desperate. It was slow, deep, a kiss that spoke of something more than need. Something permanent.

When they pulled apart, Tommy exhaled against Buck’s lips, pressing their foreheads together.

"Yeah," he whispered, almost to himself. "I missed you today."

Buck’s heart clenched in the best way.

---

They didn’t bother with shirts after the shower—partly because Tommy wouldn’t fit into any of Buck’s, and definitely not because Buck wanted an excuse to ogle him. Not at all.

They ate their pizza like an old married couple, bickering about toppings and recounting their separate days, filling in the gaps they hadn’t been able to share in real time.

And then, finally, they crawled into bed.

Buck exhaled as he pressed close to Tommy, resting his head against his chest. Tommy’s arms came around him easily, pulling him in, warm and solid and grounding.

For the first time in a long time, Buck felt safe.

He trailed his fingers absently up and down Tommy’s stomach, feeling the slow rise and fall of his breath.

"I could get used to this," he murmured.

Tommy pressed a kiss to his temple. "Yeah."

Sleep pulled at Buck almost instantly, but before he drifted off, he felt Tommy squeeze him just a little tighter.

---

Tommy woke first.

The morning sun streamed through the curtains, casting golden light over Buck’s sleeping face, his features relaxed, his lips slightly parted.

Tommy just looked at him for a long time.

There was poetry in Buck’s existence, in the way he lived so fully, in the way he loved without hesitation.

Tommy had never believed in fate, but if anything in this world was meant to be, it was this.

Buck stirred, his lashes fluttering before his blue eyes met Tommy’s. He smiled sleepily.

"Morning, beautiful," Tommy murmured.

Buck’s smile widened, stretching into something radiant. "Morning, handsome."

And just like that, the world felt right.

#bucktommyfluffebruary #bucktommy #tommy kinard #evan buckley #tevan #buck x tommy #bucktommy fic #i don't even know if i can combine two prompts or if this even counts two #but i have had this idea of buck and tommy cuddling after the hospital kiss for a long time and wanted to try it

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radioiaci · 8 hours ago

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Two things became clear after a few moments of deliberation, Vox's punctuated questioning needing only the briefest of pauses before Alastor understood the oncoming threat. Vox had mentioned something, at some point, about them exercising their power at all while they were here. And it was an easy conclusion to make.

One. They would have angels upon them any moment, no matter whether or not they had both donned their disguises once more in an attempt to draw away the attention to what was likely no avail.

Two. Vox was going to fall behind at this rate. Alastor could sense his windedness, the way he seemed to teeter and be unable to truly parse their surroundings and the path they would need to take back to the car. And even when they got there - Alastor had his doubts that Vox would even be able to get behind the wheel without immediately steering them into a tree.

It was a Plan B sort of moment.

"Bad news," Alastor finally offered in answer, taking advantage of his own state which was still moderately better than Vox's after such a display of power, to yank him closer by the hand in order to pull him up and into the radio demon's arms in a princess-style carry. He would take no protests to the contrary. This was their only option.

And with hopes that Vox would not squirm and send them both flying into the nearest pond, he took off parallel to the path they might have taken back to the vehicle. They would end up near it, but not immediately at it, hoping to steer the angels away if they saw fit to trace their whereabouts on where they had been.

The path he'd selected was much less navigable - unfamiliar territory as he scoured through brush, picking his way over logs and giving brief hops over pools of water and muck, all with Vox secured into his arms.

He did not want to hear any guff. Not until they were safe.

Vox was still taking very deep breaths, and took a step to hold onto the tree as he felt all his blood rush to his head and tunnel vision took over just for a moment. His focal turning into a peripheral feeling vision. But it faded in just a few moments. But unless Alastor had been looking elsewhere- it had been pretty obvious for just that second that he had been about to pass out. Just from exertion versus not realizing how much the smoke had been affecting him.

He gave his head a quick mild shake with a hard blink to shake off the rest of the dizziness. Then stilled as Alastor spoke, just to focus on pulling on his human guise once more as he listened. His deep raven brown hair with the red stripe still a bit sweaty and messy running through the bayou earlier.

They had laid on the alarm button for far too long to not bring some very motivated scouts their way.

Vox looked up when his hand was taken, a step behind Alastor’s speech so he stumbled a bit when he was pulled but moved to follow promptly after.

“The car was that way right-??” He said still sounding winded and cleared his throat at the end of it. not quite able to keep the pace up casually, as he was staring at the ground. Definitely not as confident in his foot placement as Alastor. Even on the seemingly hard ground there were roots and tall grass that he didn’t trust.

As the hurried away from the house, Vox finally also picked up on the weird jittering of the air- not even the air. The fabric beneath the air. Like a Deja vu feeling but made of eyes. Vox knew that feeling all too well, would place it easily as the angry roiling type of Angelic attention. They needed to leave expeditiously. He did try to hurry up a degree further then. Gripping onto the others hand. There was a deep hissing and chuttering noise- vibration underwater- that Alastor would know meant jaws nearby. Not imminent- but much too close for comfort.

Vox slowed just slightly in concern to look around.

“Th’f’ck w’s ‘at??” He said alarmed right into his accent again. His voice cutting out momentarily still drawn raw from the smoke and disuse earlier.

#videokilled #verse ;; 📺 crimson nights like these 📺

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concretejunglefm · 2 days ago

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Any poly bad omens thots?

Oh anon you know do!!

Where should I start?

Matt x you x Folio: where it all began for me. From Folio just wanting to listen in, to watching and eventually joining you and Matt. At first, it might have only been about sex, but there was something more than that between you all. You had always seen the way Matt was with Folio, even when he’d treat him a little mean behind closed hotel room doors. You and Folio had always shared something playful, almost flirty, and while most guys would probably be uncomfortable with the closeness between their best friend and girlfriend, Matt always encouraged it. He was never worried, and maybe there was a part of him that always knew you’d fall for each other, that you’d find the same reasons in each other that made him fall for you both, even if he was a little hesitant. Is there ever jealousy? Not necessarily, more a little insecurity from Matt when he feels like he’s not as fun and playful as Folio. Watching you both together can sometimes make him feel like a third wheel, when the bad thoughts are a bit too loud, but in reality, he’s the glue that holds you both together. Without him, you’d be nothing.

Matt x you x Noah: started a little unconventionally. Matt, being a supportive boyfriend because you wanted to introduce a partner into your cam work, introduced you to Noah as there was no one outside of his friends that you trusted more. It was only supposed to be one time or two, nothing more and Matt would be there the entire time to make you feel safe. But with the physical came the emotional you had long been pushing down, and all it took was Matt to look in your eyes and see that you love Noah too. You all seem to be in love with each other, and if only it were that simple. You could be together without any issues. But unfortunately, it’s not, and you’re too afraid to admit your own feelings for fear of losing Matt and the love you share. It's them who suggest a weekend away, somewhere that allows you to all set aside the physical aspects of your potential relationship and discuss what it is you want, without casting judgement and as well as your boundaries, figuring out the next step in this something new you all wish to explore.

Noah x Nicholas x you: you were brought into an existing relationship between them, two soft boyfriends who both had crushes on you. Why should you be forced to choose? Even if they initially acted as though you had to. You now spend your evenings watching them stream and play video games, keeping yourself off camera while Nick idly strokes any part of you he can reach, while his other hand is always on Noah in some way. The best part is when you can come together and tangle yourselves in a cuddle or a soft make-out session. While away from this arrangement, you find yourselves growing more enamored with one another, especially when you spend days engaged in each other’s hobbies or simply have a date night.

Jolly x you x Noah: you never could've anticipated anything coming from moving in with your boyfriend Jolly, aside from it being the next step in your relationship. You had already been friends with Jolly's roommates, especially Noah, but now that you were living there, you came to discover the extent of Noah’s insomnia. Your own fractured sleep pattern allowed you to keep him company and over months of nights spent hanging out, something began to shift, not only between you but also in Noah. He found himself actually falling asleep on numerous occasions when you were around, mostly on the couch, his head resting on your shoulder. Noah knew then what had happened; he'd fallen for you, but didn’t pursue it further. It was Jolly who brought it to the surface because he recognized the look on his best friend’s eyes—the same look he had in his own when he looked at you. Noah was in love with you, but it was Jolly who suggested taking the next step into something new together.

Nick squared x you: these thots are pending but they're hot. Folio has a more dominant side of the primal kind when he's paired with Nicholas, one which they both like to use and exploit when it comes to you. Their favorite thing is to chase you, before Nicholas takes his time tying you up for their own fun and your pleasure. Outside of this, they’re incredibly playful together and with you. Their personalities and hobbies complement each other perfectly, making them the ideal set of boyfriends for you and for each other.

Matt x you x Noah x Nicholas: this is purely for fun. Matt is your boyfriend but he has an enjoyment in sharing you with his friends, at least those who he trusts and is closest too. Nick x Noah have a habit of sharing you together, one because they love to make everything a two person job, and two they love worshiping you and pulling you apart together and in different ways which make you completely incoherent by the end

Matt x you x Davis: a soft and caring Davis paired with a mean!matt, who loses all of that when this man is around. Could you really ask for anything better?

Nicholas x you x Davis: what started as a lesson out of curiosity blossomed into something more, especially when Davis came back around for a follow up which involved him being the one to show Nicholas what he had learned, before they used it on you together. You didn't anticipate it going further, that soft look Davis gave you wasn’t just him becoming infatuated with the new dynamics of your relationship. It was more than that, and it became harder for him to deny it as he spent more time with you until one night, he blurted it out. There was no jealousy or irrational outbursts. It was Nicholas who brought the conversation to light and allowed everything to be shared, not clouded by the high of an orgasm or your lust for one another. Instead, it allowed for genuine clarity on the situation.

sub!Noah x you x sub!Folio: who'd have ever imagined that Noah would want to share you? Certainly not you and certainly not with one of his best friends. It happened purely because Folio wouldn't leave Noah alone, aware of what happens behind closed hotel room doors because the walls are thin, and curious to find out more, he would always work to get Noah into more trouble with you, or simply tease him for the sounds he could hear coming from his room the night before. While Noah is your good boy, Folio wants to be, he wants to prove that he can be a good sub, he's just a little overly eager and impatient, but you eventually teach him the basics and the benefits of having patience, especially when it results in him coming apart at the seams in a whole way beyond anything he could've anticipated. Outside of their contrasting personalities, Folio and Noah make for an interesting dynamic in your relationship. However, there’s a perfect middle ground where you come together in harmony, especially when all three of you are tucked in bed together, squished between the two most obedient pups you could ask for. Maybe now is the time for Folio to have his own version of a collar, just like Noah’s?

All omens x you: you’ve been friends for longer than you’ve officially been together with any of them. However, that doesn’t mean there weren’t underlying circumstances and shared moments that ranged from sexual to romantic with each of them. It could have almost felt like cheating or playing them, until you discovered that they were all aware of it and had planned it all along. They were just unsure of how to approach you about it. When you’re together, you take your time to spoil them all by buying them flowers, cooking their favorite meals, and taking your time to have dates with each of them, making them feel special just like they make you feel special. There’s definitely playful jealousy and rivalry, but never anything malicious because they all share the same thing in common: their love for you (and each other).

#bad omens fanfiction #bad omens blurb #noah sebastian blurb #nicholas ruffilo blurb #nick folio blurb #joakim jolly karlsson blurb #matt dierkes blurb #noah thots #matt thots #matty thots #folio thots #ruffilo thots #jolly thots #bad omens poly #polyomens #davis rider blurb #davis thots #concretejunglefm fics

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alittlegiraffe · 1 day ago

Text

Title: Stand By Me (Part 2)

The silence in the car was thick, but it wasn’t uncomfortable.

It was the kind of silence that settled deep, like the weight of something you’d been carrying for too long finally starting to lift. You weren’t sure how to process it yet, but the difference was undeniable.

Marshall kept one hand on the wheel, the other still holding yours, rubbing slow, lazy circles against your skin. He wasn’t in a rush to make you talk. He never was. He just let you be, let you sit with whatever you were feeling without demanding anything in return.

And maybe that was why, when you finally found your voice, it came out so raw.

“I don’t think I can do this anymore.”

His grip on your hand tightened. “Do what, baby?”

You swallowed, staring out the window. “Keep trying. Keep pretending like she’s gonna change.”

He let out a slow breath, like he’d been waiting for you to say it, but didn’t want to push you to. “You don’t have to.”

Tears burned at the back of your eyes. You didn’t know why this felt like grief, why it made your chest ache even though you knew it was the right thing.

“But she’s my mom,” you whispered, more to yourself than anything. “And she—”

“She don’t act like it,” Marshall cut in gently. “She don’t treat you the way a mom should.”

You exhaled shakily, your voice barely audible. “Then why do I feel so guilty?”

He sighed, his thumb brushing against the inside of your wrist. “’Cause she raised you to.”

Your breath hitched.

That was it. That was the truth you had been running from, the truth you had spent years trying to shove down.

She raised you to believe that loving her meant sacrificing yourself. That putting up with her cruelty was just the price of being her daughter.

Marshall saw the realization settle in your face, and his heart clenched. He wanted to take it from you, wanted to undo the years of hurt, but all he could do was what he had always done—be there.

“I don’t know how to stop,” you admitted, voice small. “I don’t know how to let it go.”

He pulled into the driveway, put the car in park, then turned to you fully, giving you his complete attention. “You ain’t gotta figure it out all at once. You just take it one step at a time.”

Your eyes met his, uncertain but searching. “What if she never changes? What if she never stops?”

His jaw ticked, and you knew the thought made him angry—angry for you, angry that someone who was supposed to love you unconditionally had done nothing but tear you down.

But when he spoke, his voice was steady. Sure.

“Then we stop lettin’ her hurt you.”

You blinked. “We?”

He reached up, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Yeah. We. You ain’t in this alone, baby.”

And just like that, the weight on your chest lightened, if only a little.

Because for the first time in your life, it didn’t feel like you had to hold it all on your own.

---

You didn’t cut your mother off overnight.

It wasn’t that easy. The guilt still crept in, still whispered in the back of your mind every time you ignored her calls or chose not to respond to her passive-aggressive texts.

But every time you started to doubt yourself, every time you hesitated—Marshall was there.

Sometimes, he just held your hand. Sometimes, he gently reminded you why you were doing this. And sometimes, when you were feeling particularly weak, he’d just wrap his arms around you and say, “You deserve better.”

And slowly, you started to believe him.

The real turning point came a few weeks later.

Your mother had called—again. You had ignored it—again. And instead of spiraling into guilt, you just leaned back against the couch, curled up against Marshall’s side, and let out a breath.

“That felt… good,” you admitted.

He smirked, kissing the top of your head. “Yeah?”

You nodded. “Yeah.”

Then, quieter—“Thank you for standing up for me.”

His arm tightened around you, his voice low but firm. “Always.”

And you knew, with absolute certainty, that he meant it.

That no matter what happened, no matter how hard it got—

You wouldn’t have to face it alone.

#eminem #eminem x reader #marshall mathers #marshall mathers x reader

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msklassickilla · 2 days ago

Text

Prada You Nataya & Jimmy Oneshot

Summary:

A oneshot peeking into Nataya and Jimmy's relationship, past and currently.

Pairing: Jimmy x Nataya (Taya)

AN: Shoutout to @queeny23 for the suggestion to do a oneshot for Nataya and Jimmy. I hope it offers some background on the two and more insights on what's going on storywise in Prada You.

Warning: Please be advised that this chapter contains harsh/foul language, age gap relationship, mentions of murder, underage pregnancy.

Disclaimer: This work of art is fictional in nature including the original characters created by me. I do not own any of the existing characters or lyrics from songs referenced in this story (if any). All rights belong to their respective owners with the exception of my original characters. This work is purely for entertainment purposes and is not intended to cause harm.

Jimmy & Nataya Oneshot

April 1998

The smell of freshly brewed coffee and the faint scent of new clothes clung to the air as Nataya stepped out of the store she had just applied to. The mall was bustling, filled with shoppers drifting from store to store, their voices blending into an unrecognizable hum. She exhaled, adjusting the strap of her purse over her shoulder. She needed this job, but something in her gut told her she wouldn’t get it.

“Damn, ma, you look like you thinking too hard.”

The voice came smooth, laced with amusement, and when she turned her head, she was met with the familiar grin of Jimmy who was Johnathan Fatu to those who knew him before the change. He leaned casually against a nearby kiosk, his gold chain catching the light, a black fitted cap pulled low over his eyes. She had seen him around before, knew of him through whispers and the kind of reputation that made most girls either steer clear or dive in headfirst.

Nataya raised a brow. “And what exactly does ‘thinking too hard’ look like?”

Jimmy smirked, pushing off the kiosk and closing the small distance between them. “Like somebody who ain’t gotta be stressin’ about no job if she had the right man takin’ care of her.”

She scoffed, shaking her head. “Oh, so you just assume I need saving?”

He chuckled, licking his lips before replying, “Nah, but I’m sayin’, why worry about clocking in when you could be ridin’ with me? I take care of mine.”

She wanted to roll her eyes, but something about the way he looked at her made her lips twitch. He was fine, no doubt, and confidence dripped from him like a second skin. She usually dated dudes far different from him. Before she could form a response, he slid his phone from his pocket.

“Lemme get your number, ma. I promise I won’t blow you up too much.”

She hesitated for only a second before taking his phone and typing in her number. What was the worst thing that could happen? When she handed it back, he glanced at the screen before flashing that signature grin again. “Good lookin’ out. I’ma hit you up real soon.”

----

A few days later, Nataya found herself waiting a block away from her house, the streetlights casting a soft glow against the pavement. With the help of her twin, Natasha, she was able to sneak out the house undetected. She felt a twinge of nerves settle in her stomach, though she wasn’t entirely sure why. She knew her sister wouldn’t let her get caught. Maybe it was the way Jimmy had been persistent without being overbearing, or maybe it was the way his voice had sounded over the phone, deep and smooth, when he invited her to a kickback at Jacob’s house.

A car pulled up, headlights flashing briefly before dimming. The passenger window rolled down, revealing Jimmy behind the wheel. “Hop in, baby.”

She slid into the car, the scent of his cologne immediately filling her senses. He looked her over, his eyes lingering in appreciation. “Damn, you look good,” he muttered, reaching over to rest a hand on her thigh. “Been waitin’ to see you all week.”

Nataya bit her lip, trying to hide her smile. “I hope this little party is worth it.”

Jimmy chuckled, shifting gears as he pulled off down the street. “Oh, it is. But you the real reason I wanted you to come out.”

They talked on the way there, easy conversation flowing between them. Jimmy asked about her job interview, cracking jokes that made her laugh despite her earlier frustrations. She learned that he had a twin brother, that he spent most of his time with the Prada Bois, and that he had an undeniable way of making her feel like she was the only girl in the world.

By the time they arrived at Jacob’s house, the party was already in full swing. Music blasted from inside, people filled the backyard, and bottles of liquor were being passed around freely. Nataya stuck close to Jimmy at first, letting him introduce her to a few of his boys before finally settling on the couch with a drink in hand.

The night blurred in a pleasant haze of laughter, drinks, and stolen glances. At some point, Jimmy pulled her onto his lap, his fingers lazily tracing circles on her thigh as he whispered, “I got a question for you.”

She tilted her head. “What’s up?”

“You ready to be my girl?” His voice was steady, but there was something in his expression—something expectant, almost vulnerable, beneath all that bravado.

Nataya felt her heart skip, heat rushing to her cheeks. She should’ve thought about it longer, but the answer was already on her lips. “Yeah… yeah, I’m ready.”

Jimmy grinned before leaning in, his lips brushing against hers in a slow, lingering kiss. The party faded into the background, drowned out by the thrum of her heartbeat as she let herself get lost in the moment.

And just like that, she was his.

----

August 1998

The dim light of Jimmy’s bedroom cast long shadows along the walls, flickering as the fan hummed overhead. Nataya sat on the edge of his bed, her hands tightly twisted together in her lap. She had barely spoken since they got back, her mind tangled in a loop of fear, uncertainty, and words she didn’t know how to say.

Jimmy leaned against the dresser, his gaze heavy on her. He could tell something was wrong, but he was waiting—waiting for her to speak first.

“You good?” His voice was softer than usual, laced with concern.

Nataya inhaled sharply. “No. Not really.”

Jimmy pushed off the dresser, walking over to crouch in front of her. He reached for her hands, but she kept them clutched together. His brows furrowed. “Talk to me.”

Her breath shuddered. “I’m pregnant.”

The room seemed to still, the air thickening between them. Jimmy didn’t flinch, didn’t pull away. Instead, he let the words settle before nodding slowly. “You sure?”

“I took three tests.” Her voice barely wavered, but the weight of her words was heavy. “I know for sure.”

Jimmy exhaled, running a hand over his head. “Okay. We’ll figure it out.”

Nataya let out a short, humorless laugh. “It’s not that simple, Jimmy.” She finally looked up, her dark eyes filled with something fragile. “My mama is gonna kill me. You know she don’t play like that. Babies come after marriage.”

Jimmy shook his head. “Nah, she won’t.”

She scoffed. “You don’t know her like I do.”

He shifted closer, his hands settling on her thighs, grounding her. “I know if you pregnant, she gon’ have to respect the fact that it’s our decision.”

Nataya swallowed hard, staring at him. “And what if I don’t know what that decision is? What if I’m not ready? Should I even keep it?”

Jimmy’s grip on her legs tightened slightly. “Taya, we keeping this baby. I don’t care what anybody else got to say, including your mama. This is ours. You hear me?” His voice was firm, steady, leaving no room for doubt. “I’m gon’ be here, and I’m gon’ make sure you and my baby straight. That’s a promise.”

She nodded slowly but still looked unconvinced. “How can you say that? How can you be so sure you’ll be here?”

Jimmy frowned, his eyes darkening. “What you mean?”

Nataya shifted, searching his face. “This morning, Jimmy. You and Jey just got released after being questioned about some murder. What if they had enough to keep you? What if next time they do?”

Jimmy tensed, his jaw tightening. “That ain’t gon’ happen.”

“How do you know that?” Her voice cracked slightly, frustration bubbling over. “You don’t think I’ve thought about that all day? If I have this baby and something happens to you—then what?”

Jimmy’s lips parted as if he was going to reassure her again, but he stopped. Something flickered behind his eyes, something unreadable. Then, after a long pause, he exhaled sharply and ran his hand down his face.

“Damn. Look, Taya, we did that shit. I ain’t wanna tell you but there it is.”

Nataya’s stomach dropped. “What?”

Jimmy lifted his head, locking eyes with her. “Melo. We did it.” His voice was steady, too calm. “Jey gave the word, and we handled it.”

The silence that followed was suffocating. Nataya’s breath came in shallow gasps as she jerked back, standing abruptly. “Oh my God. Jimmy are you fucking serious right now?”

Jimmy stood too, reaching for her, but she shook her head. “No. Don’t—don’t touch me.”

“Taya—”

“How could you just—just say that like it’s nothing?” Her voice trembled as she wrapped her arms around herself, as if that could stop the sudden cold creeping into her bones.

Jimmy’s face was unreadable. “It wasn’t nothing. But it had to be done.”

“Had to be done?” she echoed, disbelief flooding her tone. “Why? What the hell did he do to deserve that?”

Jimmy hesitated, rubbing a hand over his mouth. “He crossed a line.”

Nataya’s stomach twisted. “That’s it? That’s the reason?”

He didn’t answer. Not directly. Instead, he muttered, “Jey don’t know how to fucking chill when his emotions involved. And when he gets set on something, the shit gets done.”

She stared at him, realization slamming into her like a freight train. “And y’all just go along with it? No questions asked?”

Jimmy exhaled through his nose. “It ain’t like that.”

“It is exactly like that.” Her voice was barely above a whisper. “And now I’m supposed to believe you’ll always be here?”

Jimmy’s gaze softened, but there was something steely beneath it. “I will be. I promise you that.”

Nataya shook her head, emotions clawing at her throat. She wanted to believe him, wanted to hold onto that promise. But deep down, she knew—

Promises didn’t mean much in their world. Survival did.

----

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lightdancingwords · 3 days ago

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Second Chances - Part Fifteen of ?

Pairings: Beau Arlen x Y/N Female reader Series Summary: A chance meeting in a grocery store brings a second chance for you and for Beau. The only thing standing in your way are your respective pasts... and a tiny little roadblock. Word Count: 5,172 Tags/Warnings: I actually don’t think there is any beyond SO. MUCH. FLUFF. And I guess babies and kids. Implied smut. A/N: Comments, Likes, Reblogs, Kind feedback are always highly appreciated. Please let me know if you want to be added to the tag list!

Note: I've several of you comment this, so here's official statement: I am likely to never end this story at this rate! I'm loving Beau and his relationship with Y/N! So until I'm burnt out on Beau or run out of ideas... consider this story ongoing! Additional Note: I feel bad. Emily somehow slipped my mind—probably because she’s in a whole other state, full grown, in her own life. But that made Beau look bad because she’s his firstborn, his daughter. So any errors in not mentioning her is on me and I apologize for that. I was called out on it and it’s a fair thing to do. I’ll try to incorporate her more often in his thoughts and story. Too late to edit this chapter but in the future I will be sure to include her.

Divider: credit to @sweetmelodygraphics

Chapter Fifteen: How To Love

The days following Caleb’s birth were a blur of healing, adjusting, and overwhelming gratitude. Y/N remained in the hospital under the careful watch of the doctors, recovering from both the accident and the emergency C-section. Beau barely left her side.

He took paternity leave without hesitation, knowing there was nowhere else he needed to be. The department could manage without him for a while—his family couldn’t. Jenny, though initially skeptical that he’d actually take time off, had practically forced him out the door with a smirk. “Don’t even think about checking your email, Sheriff.”

Meanwhile, Y/N’s mother had been taking care of Eliza, keeping the little girl busy and making sure she didn’t feel left out with all the excitement surrounding the new baby. But Beau knew Eliza missed them. Every time they video called, she would grab at the screen, squealing “Mama! Bo-Bo!” in delight before her little brows furrowed in confusion, clearly wondering why they weren’t coming home yet.

Finally, after five days in the hospital, Y/N was cleared to go home.

Beau wheeled her down the hospital hallway, his hand on her shoulder, the other carrying Caleb’s car seat. The tiny baby was bundled up snugly, sleeping peacefully, blissfully unaware of the life waiting for him outside those hospital walls.

Y/N sighed, tilting her head back slightly to look at Beau. “I’ve never been more ready to be home.”

Beau chuckled, squeezing her shoulder. “Darlin’, I don’t think I’ve ever been more ready to take you home.”

Outside, the truck was already waiting—Jenny had dropped it off for him earlier in the morning, making sure the car seat was properly installed. Beau helped Y/N into the passenger seat, buckling her in gently before carefully securing Caleb in the back. He checked the straps twice, his jaw tightening with focus.

Y/N smiled softly, watching him. “Beau, he’s not going anywhere.”

He exhaled, glancing at her. “I know. I just…” He hesitated before shaking his head with a faint smile. “Can’t help it.”

She reached out, squeezing his hand. “I know.”

With one last check, he climbed into the driver’s seat and started the engine, pulling out of the hospital lot and heading home.

Y/N’s mother was waiting on the porch when they arrived, Eliza in her arms. The moment the truck pulled up, Eliza’s little hands clapped excitedly, and she wiggled to get down.

Beau barely had time to unbuckle his seatbelt before Eliza was racing toward him, her tiny feet pattering against the wooden porch. “Bo-Bo!” she shrieked.

Beau laughed, scooping her up in one fluid motion. “Hey there, wolf-child,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her curls. “Did you miss us?”

Eliza nodded enthusiastically, her little hands patting his face before she turned her big, curious eyes toward Y/N. “Mama?”

Y/N smiled, carefully stepping out of the truck. Beau was already there, offering his arm to steady her. She sighed happily as she stretched, then crouched down to Eliza’s level.

“Hi, my love,” Y/N said softly, reaching out for her.

Eliza practically leaped from Beau’s arms into Y/N’s, wrapping herself around her mother with surprising strength. Y/N winced slightly, but her laugh was full of joy as she held her daughter close. “Oh, I missed you so much, sweetheart.”

“Baby?” Eliza asked, looking around, her little nose scrunching in confusion.

Beau chuckled, moving to the truck to carefully unclip Caleb’s car seat. “Right here, kiddo.”

The second he lifted the car seat out, Eliza’s eyes widened. “Baby!” she gasped, her tiny hands clapping again.

Beau set the car seat down gently on the porch, kneeling beside it as Y/N shifted so Eliza could see.

“Meet your baby brother, Caleb,” Y/N murmured, her voice thick with emotion.

Eliza peered into the car seat, her face filled with fascination as she took in the tiny bundle inside. Caleb stirred slightly, his little mouth forming an ‘o’ as he stretched his fingers.

“Baby,” Eliza whispered reverently before glancing up at Beau and Y/N with a huge grin. “Mine?”

Beau let out a deep laugh, ruffling her curls. “Not just yours, wolf-child. Ours.”

Eliza nodded solemnly, as if accepting her important new role in the family.

Y/N’s mother chuckled softly. “Looks like you’ve got a little protector already.”

“Good,” Beau said, wrapping an arm around Y/N’s waist. “Caleb’s gonna need all the love he can get. And this family? We got plenty to give.”

Y/N sighed, leaning into him, her head resting against his chest. “Yeah. We do.”

Beau pressed a kiss to the top of her head, his grip tightening around her. For the first time in what felt like forever, everything was finally as it should be.

Home. Whole. Together.

And as he watched Eliza gently pat Caleb’s tiny hand, introducing herself in her own little way, Beau knew with absolute certainty—this was the life he had always wanted.

And he wasn’t letting go of it for anything.

Life with a newborn was both beautifully fulfilling and utterly exhausting.

Days blurred together in a mix of diaper changes, sleepless nights, and the soothing lull of Beau’s deep voice murmuring to Caleb in the early hours of the morning. The baby had a strong set of lungs, that was for sure. Every few hours, he let the entire house know he was awake, demanding food, warmth, and comfort with the kind of relentless determination that made Beau both admire and fear how much like his mother he already was.

Eliza was adjusting, too—curious, excited, and sometimes a little frustrated when her baby brother took up too much of her mama and Bo-Bo’s attention. But Beau made sure to keep their special time, setting aside moments where it was just the two of them, whether it was playing in the backyard or letting her “help” him cook breakfast in the mornings.

Y/N, meanwhile, was running on fumes, and Beau saw it.

She handled Caleb like a natural—her love infinite, her patience unwavering—but there was a heaviness in her, too. The exhaustion weighed on her shoulders, the sleepless nights dimming the light in her eyes. She barely had time for herself, always putting their children first. And Beau? He refused to let her forget that she wasn’t just a mother—she was his, too.

It was a particularly long night when they both found themselves collapsing into bed, barely able to keep their eyes open. Caleb had finally settled after what felt like hours of rocking, feeding, and humming softly to him. Eliza had gone to sleep without a fuss, blissfully unaware of the symphony of cries that had kept her parents up.

Beau groaned as he flopped onto the mattress, running a hand over his face. “I think my back’s gonna give out.”

Y/N chuckled, though it was weak, her body sinking into the bed beside him. “You and me both.”

He turned his head to look at her, taking in the sight of her—her hair a tangled mess, her body wrapped in one of his old T-shirts, her skin glowing despite her exhaustion. She was so damn beautiful, and she didn’t even realize it.

He reached out, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face. “You okay, darlin’?”

She let out a slow breath, rolling onto her side to face him. “Yeah,” she whispered. “Just tired.”

He nodded, understanding more than he could put into words. He scooted closer, wrapping an arm around her waist, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. “You’re incredible, Y/N,” he murmured. “You know that, right?”

She let out a tired laugh. “I don’t feel incredible.”

“You are,” he insisted, his voice steady. “The way you love our kids, the way you take care of everyone—hell, the way you still manage to laugh even after the longest days. I don’t know how you do it.”

Her gaze softened, her fingers tracing small patterns on his chest. “Because I love you. Because I love them. That’s how.”

Beau swallowed past the lump in his throat, his grip on her tightening. “I love you, too, darlin’. More than I got words for.”

She sighed into him, their bodies molding together as exhaustion pulled at them both. It wasn’t just about sleep—it was about feeling safe, wrapped in the warmth of each other, knowing that no matter how chaotic life got, this was home.

It was a couple of weeks later, in the quiet of the night, when things shifted between them again.

Y/N had just finished putting Caleb back down after a late feeding, her body moving on instinct now, even though she was half-asleep. She climbed back into bed with a soft sigh, stretching out beside Beau.

He turned, watching her in the dim glow of the nightlight from the hallway. “C’mere,” he murmured.

She hesitated, but he reached for her, pulling her into his arms.

“You don’t have to,” she whispered, her voice laced with uncertainty.

Beau frowned, leaning down to press a soft kiss to her temple. “Don’t have to what?”

She swallowed, shifting slightly in his embrace. “I know I don’t look the same,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “I know I’m different now.”

Beau’s heart clenched. He pulled back slightly, just enough to look at her, really look at her. The soft curves of her body, the faint traces of exhaustion in her face, the quiet vulnerability in her eyes.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice gentle but firm, “you think I don’t want you?”

She looked away, her fingers gripping the edge of the blanket. “I just… I don’t feel like myself yet. And I don’t know when I will.”

Beau reached out, tipping her chin up so she had to meet his gaze. “You gave me a family,” he murmured. “You gave me Eliza. You gave me Caleb. You gave me a reason to come home every damn day. And I swear to you, there ain’t a single thing in this world that could make me love you less.”

Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears. “Beau…”

He kissed her then, slow and reverent, his lips moving against hers like he was rediscovering her, like he was reminding her of everything they had. His hands roamed gently, no rush, no urgency—just love, just worship.

“You’re still my Y/N,” he whispered against her lips. “You’re still the woman I fell in love with, the woman I’m gonna marry, the woman who drives me crazy in the best damn way.”

She let out a shaky breath, her fingers tangling in his hair. “I love you, Beau.”

“I love you more,” he murmured, kissing her again.

And as they melted into each other, the world outside faded. It didn’t matter that they were parents now, that their lives had changed, that exhaustion still clung to them.

All that mattered was this—Beau and Y/N, their love as fierce and unshakable as ever.

And as they lay together, wrapped in each other’s arms, Beau knew with absolute certainty that nothing—nothing—could ever come between them again.

The last few weeks had been the best of Beau’s life. Days spent holding his son, laughing with Eliza, stealing quiet moments with Y/N—they had settled into a rhythm, one built on love, exhaustion, and the small joys that came with having a newborn.

But now, his paternity leave was coming to an end, and Beau hated it.

He sat on the edge of the bed one evening, rubbing a hand down his face, his jaw set in a deep frown. Y/N was in bed beside him, their bedroom cast in soft, golden light from the bedside lamp. Caleb was already asleep in the bassinet beside their bed, Eliza down the hall in her own room, and the house was wrapped in a rare, peaceful quiet.

Y/N glanced up from where she had been running lotion over her arms, her eyes catching the tightness in his expression. “What’s wrong, cowboy?”

Beau sighed, running his hands through his hair. “Tomorrow,” he muttered, like the word itself left a bitter taste in his mouth.

Y/N tilted her head. “Tomorrow?”

Beau looked at her then, his green eyes filled with something vulnerable, something rare. “I gotta go back to work.”

Y/N softened, setting the bottle of lotion aside as she shifted closer to him. “Oh, Beau.”

He exhaled sharply, looking down at his hands. “I know I have to. I know the department needs me. But damn, Y/N… I don’t wanna go.”

She reached for his hand, intertwining their fingers. “I know.”

Beau swallowed hard, his jaw tensing. “Feels like I just got you back. Just got time with my boy. With Eliza. And now, I gotta leave for most of the day, every day, and—” He cut himself off, shaking his head. “What if I miss somethin’? What if I miss his first word? His first step? What if—”

Y/N squeezed his hand, stopping him mid-spiral. “Beau.”

He met her gaze, his breath unsteady.

She smiled, soft and knowing. “You are not missing anything. We are right here. Waiting for you every single day. We’re not going anywhere.”

Beau let out a slow breath, his shoulders slumping slightly. “I just love you so damn much,” he murmured. “All of you. And I hate the thought of leavin’ this.”

Y/N reached up, cupping his cheek, her thumb brushing lightly over the beard he had let grow in during his leave. “Beau Arlen,” she whispered, her voice thick with love, “do you know how much we love you?”

His breath caught, and she leaned closer, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

“You have taken care of us so well,” she murmured against his skin. “You are the best father, the best partner. And just because you have to go back to work doesn’t mean that changes. Doesn’t mean you stop being ours.”

Beau closed his eyes briefly, exhaling as she kissed his cheek next, then his jaw, then finally his lips—soft, lingering, full of reassurance.

“I love you, Y/N,” he whispered against her mouth.

“I love you more,” she breathed, pulling him down with her as they sank into the bed, their bodies molding together.

The house was quiet, the only sound the occasional soft coo from Caleb’s bassinet. Beau lay on his side, Y/N tucked close against him, his hand tracing slow, lazy circles over her hip. The earlier tension had melted away, replaced with something tender, something deeper.

Y/N rested her head against his chest, her fingers absently playing with the hem of his T-shirt. “You are so loved, Beau,” she whispered.

His fingers stilled for a moment before tightening around her waist. “Yeah?”

She lifted her head slightly, enough to meet his gaze in the dim light. “Yeah.”

His throat bobbed as he swallowed. “You sure?”

Y/N smiled, shifting so she was straddling his lap, her hands pressing against his chest. “I have never been more sure of anything in my life.”

Beau’s hands slid up her thighs, gripping her like she might disappear. “You always know exactly what I need to hear, don’t you?”

She leaned down, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to his lips. “Because I know you,” she whispered. “I know your heart. And I know that you are everything to us.”

Beau exhaled sharply, pulling her down into a deeper kiss, pouring every ounce of love, of gratitude, of devotion into it. His hands moved up her back, fingers mapping the shape of her, rediscovering every inch of her in the dim light.

Y/N pulled back just slightly, her breath warm against his lips. “We’ll be waiting for you every day, Beau. I promise.”

He cupped her face, his green eyes filled with nothing but love. “And I promise I’ll always come home to you.”

She smiled, resting her forehead against his. “Then I guess we have nothing to worry about.”

Beau chuckled, rolling them over so he hovered above her, pressing kisses along her jaw, down her neck, whispering between each one, “Damn right, we don’t.”

And as the night stretched on, wrapped in warmth and love, Beau knew—no matter where life took him, no matter how many hours he had to spend away, his heart would always belong here, in this home, with this woman.

And that was all he would ever need.

Life had finally settled into something steady, something warm. Caleb was growing fast, filling out with chubby cheeks and strong little legs that kicked with excitement whenever he saw his parents. Eliza had adjusted beautifully to being a big sister—sometimes a little bossy, sometimes a little jealous, but always full of love.

Beau had never been happier. His days at work were structured, his evenings filled with laughter and bedtime stories, and his nights spent wrapped around the love of his life.

Y/N, meanwhile, had thrown herself into planning their wedding. She had lists, swatches of fabric, guest counts—things that overwhelmed Beau but made her light up with joy. He let her take the lead, offering his opinions when needed, but mostly just soaking in the happiness she radiated whenever she talked about the future.

But even in all the joy, Beau noticed the way Y/N would sometimes grow quiet when she thought no one was watching. He noticed the way she avoided certain dresses when trying things on, the way she hesitated before letting him see her fully unclothed, as if she was waiting for him to notice something wrong.

And tonight, he caught her.

The house was still and quiet, the soft hum of the baby monitor the only sound filling the air. Caleb was sound asleep in his crib, Eliza curled up in her bed with her stuffed rabbit. Beau had just finished locking up for the night when he paused outside their bedroom door, catching sight of Y/N standing in front of the full-length mirror.

She was wearing only her slip, the dim glow of the bedside lamp casting gentle shadows over her skin. She poked lightly at her belly, smoothing her hands over the soft curves that hadn’t been there before pregnancy. Her expression was unreadable, her lips pressed into a faint frown as she traced the faint lines on her stomach.

Beau leaned against the doorframe, his heart tightening at the sight. He wasn’t sure how long he stood there, watching her, memorizing her—the way she bit her lip, the way her shoulders slumped slightly as she exhaled.

Then she caught him in the mirror’s reflection.

Her gaze lifted, meeting his, her body tensing slightly. “What are you looking at?” she asked, her voice hesitant.

Beau pushed off the doorframe, stepping closer, his green eyes never leaving hers. “Just thinkin’,” he said softly.

Y/N turned slightly, her brow furrowed. “About what?”

He stopped behind her, his hands sliding over her arms, wrapping her in his warmth as he rested his chin on her shoulder. “How damned lucky I am,” he murmured against her skin.

She let out a breathy laugh, but it lacked conviction. “Beau—”

“No,” he interrupted, tightening his grip around her, his voice gentle but firm. “Let me say this, Y/N.”

She swallowed hard, but she didn’t pull away.

Beau leaned down, pressing a slow, reverent kiss to the side of her neck before meeting her eyes in the mirror again. “You carried our babies here,” he whispered, sliding a hand over her stomach, his fingers splayed wide. “You gave me our family. And you think for one damn second that I’d ever see anything less than perfection?”

Her lower lip trembled slightly. “I just don’t feel like myself anymore,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “I love them, I love what my body did, but… I look at myself, and I don’t know who I am.”

Beau turned her in his arms, his hands cradling her waist as he met her gaze, his green eyes filled with nothing but love. “Then let me remind you,” he murmured.

His lips found hers, slow and deliberate, his touch gentle but firm as his hands slid up her sides, memorizing every curve, every change. He kissed her like she was something sacred, something precious, something irreplaceable.

When they broke apart, he rested his forehead against hers, his breath warm against her lips. “I love you, Y/N,” he whispered. “Every single inch of you. Then, now, always.”

Her eyes shimmered with emotion, and she exhaled shakily. “Beau…”

He pressed another kiss to her forehead, then trailed soft kisses along her jaw, his hands never leaving her. “You are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he murmured against her skin. “And I will spend every day of my life makin’ sure you know it.”

Y/N let out a soft laugh, though this time, it was real. “You always know what to say, don’t you?”

He grinned, his fingers brushing over the curve of her hip. “Nah, darlin’. I just tell the truth.”

She sighed, melting into him, her arms wrapping around his neck. “I love you, Beau.”

He kissed her slow and deep, pouring every ounce of his love into her. “And I love you,” he whispered against her lips. “Always.”

And as they sank into the quiet of the night, wrapped in each other, Beau made good on his promise—to love her, to remind her, to make sure she never doubted just how perfect she was in his eyes.

Now and always.

Beau had spent the past few weeks planning the perfect evening for Y/N. He wanted to give her a night that wasn’t about the kids, wasn’t about exhaustion, wasn’t about adjusting to life as parents of two. No, tonight was about them—just the two of them, the love they had built, and the future he was ready to cement.

He had it all arranged—Y/N’s mother would be watching Eliza and Caleb overnight, giving them an evening free of responsibilities. The reservation was set at the finest restaurant in town, a place neither of them had taken the time to visit before. And in his pocket, tucked securely in a velvet box, was a ring—a ring that had once belonged to his mother, resized and polished, now meant for Y/N.

He planned to propose to her again—not because he thought she needed a third proposal, but because he did. Because the first time had been in a hospital room, after she’d told him she was pregnant. It had been emotional, sincere, perfect in its own way, but this time? This time, he wanted it to be something just for them.

He wanted her to feel cherished.

Y/N stepped out of their bedroom in a fitted emerald dress that took Beau’s breath away. The fabric hugged her curves in a way that had his fingers twitching to touch, and the way she smiled at him—nervous, flattered—made his heart thud in his chest.

“Damn, darlin’,” he murmured, his green eyes raking over her. “You tryin’ to kill me?”

She laughed, shaking her head. “I should be asking you that. A fancy dinner? A date? What’s gotten into you, Beau Arlen?”

He grinned, stepping forward to press a slow kiss to her lips before whispering, “Just want to spoil my girl.”

And spoil her, he did.

The restaurant was elegant, dimly lit with candles flickering on each table, the soft hum of a jazz band playing in the background. Beau pulled out her chair for her, ordered a bottle of wine, and made sure she didn’t lift a finger all night.

He watched her as they ate, admiring the way her face lit up when she tried the dishes, how she laughed easily when he cracked jokes, how she kept stealing glances at him like she was trying to figure out what exactly he was up to.

Halfway through the meal, she set her fork down, tilting her head at him. “Okay, cowboy. Out with it.”

He smirked, raising an eyebrow. “Out with what?”

“This,” she gestured vaguely around them. “The fancy dinner. The wine. The lingering stares. You’ve been romancing me all night, Beau. And not that I’m complaining, but…” Her voice softened, her eyes searching his. “Why all the effort?”

Beau’s heart swelled at the way she looked at him—like he was her whole world.

He reached across the table, taking her hand in his. “Because you deserve it,” he said simply. “Because I love you. Because I want to remind you just how damn lucky I am.”

Her lips parted slightly, emotion flickering in her gaze. “Beau…”

He stood then, reaching into his pocket. Y/N blinked, watching him in confusion as he moved around the table. Then, realization dawned as he slowly lowered himself onto one knee.

Her hand flew to her mouth, her breath catching. “Oh my God.”

Beau flipped open the velvet box, revealing the most stunning vintage ring—a delicate band with a diamond nestled in intricate filigree. It was timeless, classic, perfect.

“This ring belonged to my mama,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “I had it resized, polished, made new again—because that’s what I want for us, darlin’. A fresh start, a lifetime together.”

Y/N let out a soft, choked laugh, her other hand clutching her chest as tears welled in her eyes.

“I asked you twice before,” Beau continued, his green eyes never leaving hers, “but I didn’t do it the way you deserved. And after everything we’ve been through, I wanted to do it right. So, Y/N…” He took a deep breath, his grip steady on the ring box. “Will you marry me?”

Y/N let out a half-laugh, half-sob, nodding frantically before she even found her words. “Yes,” she whispered, then louder, “Yes, Beau. Yes.”

A grin split across Beau’s face as he slid the ring onto her finger, his hands shaking slightly with relief. The moment the band was secure, Y/N launched herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck, kissing him fiercely as the restaurant erupted in soft applause.

He laughed against her lips, his hands firm around her waist as he held her close. “I love you, Y/N,” he murmured.

“I love you too,” she whispered, her voice full of joy, of love, of absolute certainty.

Beau kissed her again, deeply, fully, sealing the promise between them.

This was it.

Their forever was just beginning.

Beau wasn’t done spoiling Y/N. Not even close.

After their unforgettable dinner, he drove her to a luxury hotel in the heart of Big Sky, one of the finest in Montana. The moment Y/N saw where they were, she let out a surprised laugh, glancing over at him as he parked the truck.

“Beau Arlen,” she teased, raising an eyebrow. “Are you trying to seduce me?”

Beau smirked, turning off the engine. “That depends. Is it workin’?”

She bit her lip, pretending to think. “Hmm… jury’s still out.”

Beau leaned closer, his lips grazing her ear. “Well, darlin’, let’s see if I can win you over.”

With that, he stepped out of the truck, coming around to open her door like a true gentleman. He held her hand as they walked inside, checking them in under a reservation he had made weeks ago. When Y/N saw the suite he had booked—complete with a fireplace, a massive bed draped in silk sheets, and a grand marble bathroom—she turned to him with wide eyes.

“You really did go all out,” she whispered.

Beau shrugged, grinning. “You deserve it.”

She reached up, running her fingers along the edge of his jaw, her voice soft with love. “You are something else, Sheriff.”

He kissed her knuckles, his green eyes filled with adoration. “Come on, darlin’. Time to unwind.”

Beau had already thought of everything. A warm, luxurious bath was drawn in the grand soaking tub, bubbles and fragrant oils turning the water into something truly decadent. Y/N let out a slow, happy sigh as she sank into it, closing her eyes as the warmth enveloped her body.

Beau knelt beside the tub, rolling up his sleeves, his hands skimming lazily along the water’s surface as he watched her.

“You’re starin’,” Y/N murmured, her eyes still closed.

“Can’t help it,” he said, his voice thick with admiration. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

Her cheeks flushed, and she let out a soft laugh. “Smooth.”

Beau chuckled, dipping a washcloth into the water and slowly dragging it over her shoulder, down her arm. His touch was gentle, reverent. He washed her with slow, deliberate care, massaging her shoulders, kneading the knots from her back. Y/N melted under his hands, her body sinking deeper into relaxation with every stroke of his fingers.

“Beau,” she sighed, tilting her head against the edge of the tub. “If you keep this up, I might fall asleep on you.”

He smirked, pressing a kiss to her damp shoulder. “Not yet, darlin’. I’m not done spoilin’ you.”

After the bath, he wrapped her in the softest robe he could find, guiding her to the bed. He sat behind her, his strong hands working their way down her spine, massaging every inch of tension from her body.

Y/N let out a breathy moan, her head lolling forward. “You’re gonna ruin me.”

Beau chuckled, his lips ghosting over the shell of her ear. “That’s the plan.”

His hands roamed lower, kneading the small of her back, then down to her hips, tracing the curves he loved so much. As he turned her to face him, his eyes darkened, filled with something deeper than desire.

“Let me love you, Y/N,” he murmured.

She smiled lazily, stretching like a cat beneath him. “That’s how we ended up with Caleb, you know.”

Beau grinned, leaning down to kiss her neck. “No regrets.”

She laughed softly but quickly lost her breath as his lips traveled lower, his hands following, mapping every inch of her body. He took his time, exploring her with slow, reverent touches, as if memorizing her all over again.

“You’re perfect,” he murmured against her skin.

Y/N shivered, running her fingers through his thick hair. “Beau…”

He worshipped her, loving her through the night with a tenderness that spoke volumes. He made sure she felt adored, cherished, his. Every touch, every kiss was a promise—a reminder that she was his whole world.

And as they lay tangled in the sheets, her body still humming from the love they had shared, Beau pulled her close, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

“I love you, Y/N,” he whispered, his voice hoarse but full of warmth.

She smiled sleepily, snuggling against him. “I love you too, Beau. So much.”

He held her close, breathing in the scent of her, feeling the steady rhythm of her heart against his. He had everything he had ever wanted—his woman, his family, his forever.

And he wasn’t letting go. Not ever.

Tag List: @spxideyver, @deadlymistletoe, @bitchykittenconnoisseur, @aarpfashionvictim, @stoneyggirl2

@foxyjwls007, @katastrophicmind, @globetrotter28, @deansimpalababy, @daisychaingirl

@nancymcl, @deans-baby-momma, @kickingitwithkirk, @kmc1989, @ozwriterchick

Want to be a part of this tag list or others? Comment here and I'll add you! And check out my other stories that are currently being written!

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someone1348 · 3 days ago

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Happy National Tickle Day! Thats crazy! I didn't know it was today! I found out from @ryoko-loves-roses fic! So I wanted to celebrate with another Alice in Borderland fic! Idea from @saturnzskyzz so thank youuu for that! All the love my friend! 🫶💕

Anyways!

The people in this: Ler!Arisu, Lee!Tatta

Tw: Some angst/anxiety but it's mainly fluff! This is also a tickle fic, as are all my fics, so if you don't like it please keep scrolling thank you! :]

Semi season 2 spoilers as well so proceed with caution!

With that being said enjoy!! 🥰

____________~☆°♡°☆°♡°☆~______________

King of Giggles

It was only just beginning...the next stage of the games had started, without giving them much warning. It felt like this would never end. They had been running for a while now, so long that day was already night again. The king of spades blimp had moved now, out of sight from them so they had time and shelter for the night. With the car ruined and no food they had to separate again and gather what they all needed. Tired and anxious, Tatta just tried to listen to what was happening. Arisu spoke but nothing was reaching his ears until he said his name. The mechanic blinked. Arisu wanted him to come with him?! Wait where were they supposed to go! He just nodded, trying to keep the confusion and stress in his head.

"Perfect, so Usagi and Kuina will try to find food! Me and Tatta will look for a new car!" Arisu said with the same determination in his voice he always had. Something Tatta couldn't help but always admire.

'Cars, we're looking for cars, got it!' The plan finally registered in his brain as they put their hands in yelling 'Team!' Before breaking off into their groups and leaving the site, promising to meet back here in an hour or two. Hopefully, it shouldn't take anyone that long anyway, but you never know what could happen in this place, especially at night. Grabbing a flashlight, Tatta walked silently side by side with Arisu as he tried to find where exactly the car shop was. If this place was an exact replica of Shibuya, then the place Tatta was looking for shouldn't be too far. The gentle, warm, summer wind was the only noise that could be heard other than their footsteps. It would've been nicer if they weren't in this situation.

Arisu spoke up to break the silence. "Hey Tatta..." The shorter man blinked, getting out of his head to respond. "Yes?" He raised his eyebrows in response as Arisu responded.

"Thank you for saving me...twice now" he laughed a little under his breath. Tatta smiled back a little at this. "Oh it's nothing! You saved me first! If you didn't crawl to me in the tag game I wouldn't have survived...so really thank you! I didn't do anything!" Arisu smiled more at this and pointed a flashlight in his face.

"Don't downplay it! You got me out of that room in the beach, with people shooting everywhere! And then, you totally helped me, all of us, dodge the king of spades by pulling up in that car! You're amazing Tatta!" He hyped him up as the other got a little sheepish.

"Oh stop it Arisu! You're my friend! That's just what friends are for!" He exhaled as Arisu sighed and nodded. The air went back to being a little thicker after that but it didn't last long. They made it to the car place Tatta knew of and looked around. The small glow of the flashlights was the only thing illuminating this place as they walked.

"Oh my gosh!!" Tattas face lit up as he ran over to an old shiny red convertible. Arisu blinked at the others surprise "What?" He joined him over to the car. Tatta was crouched down carefully rubbing the top of it with his free hand. "Look at the curves on this baby!" Arisu smiled at his enthusiasm. Not quite understanding it but he wasn't one to judge. It certainly looked nice.

"Yeah! It looks cool!" Arisu said as Tatta scoffed a little playfully "Cool? She's a true beauty! A 1966 Ford Mustang convertible...a red one at that! factory-style air conditioning, power brakes, wood rim steering wheel, styled steel wheels, new radial narrow whitewall tires and a power top!" He gushed on and on about the car as Arisu listened carefully with an eyebrow raise.

"Wow! You really know a lot about cars huh? That's amazing!" He smiled brightly as Tatta stood up again.

"I used to be a mechanic...I've always loved cars, ever since I was a little boy..." He hummed gently as Arisu's smile only grew.

"A mechanic?! That's awesome! I bet you were really good at it with your knowledge on cars! I wouldn't be surprised!" He placed a friendly hand on his shoulder as Tatta shrugged "Ehh...I was okay at the job..."

Arisu hummed "You do that a lot don't you?" He looked at him as Tatta hummed in response "Do what?"

The flashlight was back in his face like an interrogation. "Downplay yourself and your skills" Tatta closed one eye from the light practically blinding him.

"That's not fair..." Arisu put the light back down and raised an eyebrow "So? You keep being unfair to yourself and I don't like it, you are incredible and you need to understand that" He smiled as Tatta exhaled.

"Arisu..."

"I'm serious, you're a ball of anxiety! I understand that in this situation, but even out of the death games, when we have a chance to breathe you're still anxious" The other pushed his hat up to look Tatta in the eyes.

"Your optimism is one of the reasons I'm still here now...it really cheers me up! So now it's my turn to help you again!" Tatta blinked, a small sparkle in his eye as he said that. He helped cheer Arisu up...he's part of the reason he kept going...

"Wha- me?" Turning his head to face Arisu he was met with that same bright smile again. "But I didn't-" Arisu put a finger to his lips "The next thing out of your mouth better be something positive about yourself or else!" Tatta blinked as Arisu removed his finger from his lips.

"I-I don't know what to say!" Tatta said gently as Arisu's face formed a wicked smirk.

"Wrong answer"

With that Arisu took a step towards Tatta who's body moved without him thinking about it. With each step Arisu took forward the other moved back. Panicked 'waits!' and other pleas left Tattas mouth before he tripped backwards falling into the backseat of the convertible.

"Woah-" he tried to get up but he was stuck. Arisu stood over him with a playful smirk. "Look what we have here~ You're trapped in the car you couldn't stop gushing about, now that's funny!"

Tatta smiled at his playful attitude but was still a little scared. Arisu wouldn't hurt him, right?

"Oh shut up! Just help me get out of here, please!" He asked as Arisu's eyebrows raised again in shock and intrigue.

"Ooohhh? Telling me to shut up now? I didn't think you had a mean bone in your body! This definitely made it more fun!" Tatta kicked his feet a little as he tried to escape.

"Oh come on Arisu! Help me! Please!" Arisu giggled as he got closer "Did you forget why you fell in the first place? You're in trouble Tatta, you gave me the wrong answer, and now you have to pay the price"

Oh...right! That's what was going on at first. What was he planning?

"Listen I'm sorry! I just didn't think that I-" He didn't have time to finish that statement. Arisu's fingers were gently squeezing at his sides. Tattas eyes shot open as he felt the ticklish jolts of electricity. He can't remember the last time he was tickled. He was probably a child when that happened last. He forgot how ridiculously ticklish he was and what it felt like until now. There was nothing to stop the giggles that flew out of his mouth now.

"Ahaharisu! Hey! Nohoho!" He shook his head gently as he tried to push at his hands weakly. Arisu's smile only grew as he heard his precious laughter.

"Awwww!" He cooed, making the other a little embarrassed.

"Dohohon't coo at meHehe!" His giggles got a little louder as Arisu pinched his ribs with one hand and continued tickling his side with the other. "EHehe!- This iHis emBahAharssihHing!" His face was a little red now as Arisu giggled with him under his breath.

"Its not embarrassing! Everyone is ticklish! Plus it's only me and you here! Don't worry about it, you're thinking too much again!" he teased a little at the end, flicking his hat for emphasis before as he gently pinched around his stomach. A little surprised when not many giggles came out there.

"Hmm not so ticklish here, that's all good, I'll find your big tickle spot soon enough! Just you wait!" He moved spots as the man in the hat kept giggling.

"Aharisu!"

Arisu moved his fingers up, crawling them up his ribs like a ladder until he reached his underarms. He hummed a little tune before Tatta screamed a little, slamming his arms down. And yet, that wasn't his worst spot. It certainly made Arisu's grin bigger though.

"Oooo!!" He teased "Tickle Tickle Tickle~"

"AHAHaha! NAhAHA-" Tatta shook his head around and kicked his feet trying to fight the feeling off but nothing worked. He moved so much that his hat came off, his short black hair getting more messy as it continued.

"IHIhHit TihiHIHickles! ARisuhuHu!-" the gamer giggled and nodded at his friends giggly statement. "Mhm~ it's supposed to buddy!" He took a deep breath before teasing him again, "tickletickletickletickle-" his wiggling fingers moved faster as he teased him which only made him laugh more.

"PLEHEhehEHEAse!! HAHAHA!" His feet kicked more, eyes closed as he let the tickly sensation take over his body and mind. Exactly what Arisu wanted, for him to stop overthinking and surrender to the tickle monster!

"They should make another card in the deck! Just for you, Tatta! It would be a face card with a feather card suit. You'd be the King of Giggles." he smirked, blowing a raspberry into his neck while tickling his underarms still.

"AHAHA" the other tried to protest but couldn't. Arisu moved his hands out from his underarms finally. Tatta tried catching his breath but he knew, they both knew that this wasn't the end yet. Red faced and panting he finally spoke.

"Im...not...the king of giggles...that's not even a real card!" He smiled as Arisu smirked "You totally are, want me to prove it?" He teased as Tatta giggled anxiously.

"Arisu..."

"I know where you're most ticklish!" He teased as the other blinked. Even Tatta forgot where he was most ticklish. How would he know?

"Huh? How?"

"It was a simple pattern to figure out, process of elimination~" he wiggled his fingers teasing at him "You readyyy?~" He was skeptical but nodded gently anyway. More curious then anything.

"Where do you-" again cut off by his own laughter. This time it was a snort. No one expected that.

"Oh my god! That was perfect! I knew it had to be here!"

"AHAHAHARISUHUHU!"

He was squeezing the tops of his knees the kicks got greater as he laughed his head off. Arisu was having the time of his life now.

"This is too good! I gotta try something!" He moved his fingers under the car a little to tickle the backs of his knees. Tatta squeaked and threw his head back laughing. Thank God the King of Spades was far far away. His loud laughter would've drawn him over too quickly if the enemy was around.

"IHIHHIT TIHIHIHICKLES AHAHAHA IHIHHIT REHEHEAHAHALLY TIHIHIHICKLES!! AHAHARIHISUHUHU!" He thrashed a little as Arisu moved back up to the tops of his knees pinching that little spot right above the knee where the knee and the thigh connected, this made him snort again.

"AHAHAHAHA!!" He let himself laugh. Arisu's smile only got brighter as he kept going on that one little area.

"You're so ticklish~ I'm gonna getcha!" He squeezed one of his knees with one hand, the other still on the connecting spot.

"OKAHAHAY I CAHAHAN'T YOHOHOU WIHIHIHIN! HAHAHA!" With that Arisu stopped, granting mercy on the poor boy. Tatta giggled as he caught his breath, holding a hand to his stomach. Arisu giggled gently with him.

"You okay, Tatta?" He giggled more and nodded. "Yeah! Can you help me up though now, please?" Arisu nodded and took his hand, lifting him up and out of the car.

"Thanks"

"Of course"

There was a slight pause before Arisu spoke again. "Im serious though, you're amazing Tatta and I don't want you to ever forget that...Thank you...for everything"

Tatta smiled brightly at this before they hugged gently. "Thank you too, Arisu...for everything." Arisu rubbed his back gently before they both pulled away.

"So we're getting this car right?" Arisu asked

"Hell yeah are you kidding!? Get in! I'm not letting this baby go!" Tatta smiled and got in the driver's side.

The King of Giggles, huh? If Arisu says so...then I guess it's not that bad.

---------------------------------------------------

I love them so much and I love writing so much! I hope you enjoyed!

-K <3

#k writes tk things #alice in borderland #alice in borderland tickle fic #alice in borderland tickle #alice in borderland tickles #aib tickles #aib tickle fic #ler!arisu #lee!tatta #ticklish!tatta

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dirt-str1der · 2 years ago

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My graphics arent the best to say the least so when the screen panned left the pure white pixels lining kiryus eyes started trembling and it literally looked like he was tearing up sitting silently and stoically in his car while hes about to start up the waterworks again

#Yakuza liveplay #like i think if kiryu cries he wouldnt even bother wiping his face he would just leave the sticky tear tracks on his cheeks #like if he was truly sitting there tears streaming down his face he would just let them cascade all the way down to his neck and soak into #his shirt and when someone hails his taxi down he would be like where to sir / maam #like without taking his hands off the wheel

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creepyclothdoll · 3 months ago

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The Devil's Wheel

The Devil’s Wheel

“If you say yes,” said the Devil, “a single man, somewhere in the world, will be killed on the spot. But three million dollars is nothing to sneeze at, missus.”

“What’s the catch?” You squint at him suspiciously over the red-and-black striped carnival booth. You’re smarter than he thinks you are– a devil deal always has a catch, and you’re determined to catch him before he catches you.

“Well, the catch is that you’ll know you did it. And I’ll know, too. And the big man upstairs’ll know, I ‘spose. But what’s the chariot of salvation without a little sin to grease the wheels? You can repent from your mansion balcony, looking out at your waterfront views, sipping a bellini in your eighties. But hey, it’s up to you– take my deal or leave it.”

The Devil lights a cigar without a match, taking an inhale, and blowing out a cloud of deep, sweet-smelling tobacco laced faintly with something that reminds you of rotten eggs. If he does have horns, they’re hidden under his lemon yellow carnival barker hat. He wears a clean pinstripe suit and a red bowtie. No cloven hooves, no big pointy fork, but you know he’s the Devil without having to be told. Though he did introduce himself.

He’s been perfectly polite.

You know you need the money. He knows it too, or he wouldn’t have brought you here, to this strange dark room, whisking you away from your new house in the suburbs as fast as a wish. Now you’re in some sort of warehouse, where all the windows seem to be blacked out– or, maybe, they simply look out into pitch darkness, though it is the middle of the day. A single white spotlight shines down on the two of you.

“Wait a minute, wait a minute,” you say. “I bet the man is someone I know, right? My husband?”

“Could be,” the Devil says with a pointed grin. “That’s for the wheel to decide.”

He steps back and raises his black-gloved hand as the tarp flies off of the large veiled object behind him. The light of the carnival wheel nearly blinds you. Blinking lights line the sides. Jingling music blares over speakers you can’t see. The flickering sign above it reads:

THE DEVIL’S WHEEL

“Step right up and claim your fortune,” the Devil barks. “Spin the wheel and pay the price! Or leave now, and a man keeps his life.”

You examine the wheel.

The gambling addict

The doting boyfriend

The escaped convict

The dog dad

The secretive sadist

“These are all the possible men I can kill?” You ask, thumbing the side of the wheel. It rolls smoothly in your hand. Then you quickly stop, realizing that this might constitute a spin under the Devil’s rules. He flashes a smile at you, watching you halt its motion.

“Addicts, convicts, murderers– plenty of terrible options for you to land on, missus!”

“Serial wife murderer?”

“Now who would miss a fellow like that? I can guarantee that the whole world would be better off without him in it, and that’s a fact.”

The hard worker

The compulsive liar

The animal torturer

The widower

The desperate businessman

The failed musician

The beloved son

“My husband is on here too,” you say.

“Your husband Dave, yes. The wheel has to be fair, otherwise there’s simply no stakes.”

“I know what’s gonna happen,” you say, crossing your arms. “This wheel is rigged. I’m gonna spin it around, and it’ll go through all the killers and stuff, and then it’s gonna land on my husband no matter what.”

“Why, I would never disgrace the wheel that way,” the Devil says, wounded. “I swear on my own mother’s grave– may she never escape it. In fact, take one free spin, just to test it out! This one’s on me, no death, no dollars.”

You cautiously reach up to the top of the wheel and feel its heaviness in your hand. The weight of hundreds of lives. But also, millions of dollars. You pull the wheel down and let it go.

Clackity-clackity-clackity-clackity

Round and round it goes.

The college graduate

The hockey fan

The Eagle Scout

The cold older brother

The charming younger brother

The two-faced middle child

The perfectionist

The slob

Your husband Dave

Clackity-clackity-clackity.

Finally, the wheel lands on a name. A title, really.

The photographer

“Hmm, tough, missus, but that’s the way of the wheel. But hey, look! Your husband is allllll the way over here,” he points with his cane to the very bottom of the wheel, all the way on the other side from where the arrow landed. “As you can see, it’s not rigged. The wheel truly is random.”

“So… there really isn’t another catch?” You ask.

“Isn’t it enough for you to end a man’s life? You need a steeper price? If you’re really such a glutton for punishment, I’ll gladly re-negotiate the terms.”

“No, no… wait.” You examine the wheel, glancing between it and the Devil.

You really could use that three million dollars. Newly married, new house, you and your husband’s combined debt– those student loans really follow you around. He’s quite a bit older than you, and even he hasn’t paid them off yet, to the point where the whole time you were dating you watched him stress out about money. You had to have a small, budget wedding, and a small, budget honeymoon. Three million dollars could be big for the two of you. You could re-do your honeymoon and go somewhere nice, like Hawaii, instead of just taking two weeks in Atlantic City. You deserve it.

Even so, do you really want to kill an innocent photographer? Or an innocent seasonal allergy sufferer? Or an innocent blogger? Just because you don’t know or love these people doesn’t mean that someone doesn’t.

The cancer survivor

The bereaved

The applicant

Some of these were so vague. They could be anyone, honestly. Your neighbors, your father, your friends…

The newlywed

The ex-gifted kid

The uncle

The Badgers fan

“My husband is a Badgers fan,” you say.

“How lovely,” the Devil says.

Then it hits you.

Of course.

The weightlifter.

The careful driver.

The manager.

The claustrophobe.

Your husband Dave lifts weights at the gym twice a month. You wouldn’t call him a pro, but he does it. He also drives like he’s got a bowl of hot soup in his lap all the time, because he’s afraid of being pulled over. He just got promoted to management at his company, and he takes the stairs to his seventh-story office because he hates how small and cramped the elevator is.

“I get your game,” you announce. “You thought you could get me, but I figured you out, jackass!” “Oh really? What is my game, pray tell?” The Devil responds, leaning against his cane.

“All these different titles– they’re all just different ways to describe the same guy. My husband isn’t one notch on the wheel, he’s every notch. No matter what I land on, Dave dies. I’m wise to your tricks!”

The Devil cackles.

“You’re a clever one, that’s for sure. I thought you’d never figure it out.”

“Thanks but no thanks, man,” you say with a triumphant smirk. “I’m no rube. No deal. Take me back home.”

“As you wish, missus,” the Devil says. He snaps his fingers, and you’re gone, back to your brand-new house with your new husband. “Don’t say I never tried to help anyone.”

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