#one of them drew me a picture and it was very sweet | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

slutzforbueckers · 20 days ago

Note

you should do something with paige just having a really bad day and coming home and her wife and daughter are just happy shes home. like her wife and daughter made dinner and cookies and its just a very cute and soft moment.

you make it better

pairing: paige bueckers x fem!reader

warnings: fluff

synopsis: paige was having a bad day until she came home to her favorite girls.

♡₊˚ 🦢・��✧

you were helping your daughter, lani, wash her hands after she helped make cookies and dinner. she had been begging to help in the kitchen for the past week. you were unsure of letting her help because of how young she still was but you decided to agree and it turned out to be more fun and easy than you thought. there were plenty of laughs and oopsies but watching her laugh and smile make it worth it.

“would you like to help mommy set the table?” you asked, bending down to her level as you dried her hands with a hand towel. another smile broke out on her face and she nodded her head quickly. you smiled back and stood up, taking her hand and grabbing a hand full of spoons and forks in the other. lani helped set the table, you handed her three spoons and she ran around the table delicately placing each spoon with each plate.

paige was due to be home soon, you had checked your watch almost every 5 minutes to see how much longer. you had only had a chance to talk to her a few times throughout the day, it was tough practice and you could tell—even through text—she wasn’t having a good day.

“mommy! you forgot the sharp ones!” lani jumped at your legs, her small hands tugging at the lavender sundress you wore. “i can get them! i can get them!” she exclaimed, already running back towards the kitchen.

you quickly caught up to her and caught her hand, laughing softly. “let me get those. why don’t you go get your picture for mama? she’ll be here soon.”

lani’s eyes grew wide—her smile wider and just like paige’s—and she ran off to her bedroom. you shook your head as you heard the soft thud of her small feet hitting the floor came to a stop. just as you were pulling the butter knives from the drawer the sound of keys filled your ears and the click of the door unlocking.

you quickly sat the knives down and made your way to the entryway, lani running in behind. paige barely had time to set her bags down before lani was jumping on her, wrapping her arms and legs around her the best she could.

“mama!”

“hi, sweet girl.” paige smiled and kissed the side of her head. you watched them with a smile, you could tell paige was tired but still she kept a smile on her face for her little girl. paige’s eyes met yours and she moved lani to her hip, opening her free arm for you. you stepped closer, leaning into her and wrapped your arms around her waist the best you could.

paige leaned her forehead against yours. "i missed you," she spoke quietly. you pulled back just enough to press a quick peck to her lips.

"missed you too." you smiled against her lips and pale one more quick peck before pulling away completely. lani tapped paiges shoulder quickly and shoved the picture she drew in her face.

"look what i made," paige pulled back slightly and took the picture in her free hand, holding it out so she could see. the picture was nothing but stick figures and colorful scribbles but still paige thought it was the most amazing piece of art she'd ever seen.

"wow lani, you really made this?" she gasped and turned to look at the squirming 4 year old. lani nodded her head quickly, a proud smile on her face. "this is amazing, i'm going to put it on the fridge."

paige turned to look at you and you both shared a silent moment, all the beautiful moments throughout your life that led to this very moment flashing between you. it was a difficult journey but you made it—together—and it was all worth it. you took a step closer to them and ran your fingers through your daughters curls.

"how about you go wash your hands? mama and i will get the food." you spoke gently. lani slithered out of paiges arms and took of running to the bathroom. paige let out a tired chuckle as she watched the little girl run off. you wrapped your arms around her again, completely this time. "long day?"

paige leaned into you, dropping her head onto your shoulder, and nodded. she let out a deep breath, feeling like all the weight of the day was slowly being lifted to longer she was in your arms. "so long, coach was on one today. i'm so glad to be home, y'all make it better."

"we're glad you're home too, paige. we missed you so much." you turned your head slightly and kissed the side of her head. “we’ll take a bath later and you can tell me all about it.”

“that sounds good.” paige mumbled into the crook of your neck before she lifted her head and pressed her lips to yours, her hands finding your waist.

the moment was short lived, the soft shuffle of feet breaking you apart. lani rounded the corner and wrapped herself around your legs. paige smiled down at her and ruffled her hair.

“ready to eat, princess?” paige asked, bending down to her level. lani jumped up and down and grabbed a hold of paige’s hand, already beginning to drag her towards the dining room.

“we made cookies, let’s haves cookies!!” she looked up at paige with those big, pleading eyes. lani was already looking around paige to see your face, knowing that you would say dinner first.

paige looked back at you with a sly grin and turned back to her daughter, badly whispering: “only one, don’t tell mommy.”

#m speaks #paige bueckers #paige bueckers x reader #paige bueckers x fem!reader #paige bueckers fluff #paige bueckers x fem!reader fluff #dallas wings

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mercvry-glow · 1 month ago

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Busy bee was so cute - just picturing Lucas drawing a picture for Mel as a thank you and Jack’s like ‘he really liked you - thanks for taking care of my kid’ It just has Mel beaming looking at the kids drawing

little continuation of busy bee

“He really liked you,” Jack said softly as he stood next to Dr. King while finishing some charting.

Mel looked over to him a bit confused, before realizing Dr. Abbot was talking about his son. “Oh yeah- uh… he was very sweet.” the blonde gave him a meek smile, now thinking of the young boy she had spent time with a few days prior.

Slipping a hand into the pocket of his cargos, Jack pulled out a folded piece of paper and handed it to the younger woman.

"It's supposed to be a thank you, I think. Lucas drew it for you and told me "I had to give it to Dr. King" so... there. He put a lot of work into it supposedly, no idea how it came out. though" He gave her a flat smile, his way of showing her respect for helping out with the incident that had occurred.

"Thank you for being him," and with that said, the two fell into a comfortable enough silence.

Mel walked away, feeling the urge to open the little piece of paper right away—though not in front of Dr. Abbot.

That felt too personal.

Stepping into the bathroom she took a moment before unfolding the parchment. Inside was a smattering of little colorful doodles, many of which were purple.

Flowers, the sun, a dog, and in the middle a drawing of a woman with a blonde braid and glasses.

It made her smile.

The lines were messy, as expected from a five-year-old, but the details were unmistakable—Lucas had really tried to capture her. The figure had a stethoscope around its neck and was standing beside a smaller stick-figure with curly hair, both of them holding hands. Above them, in all capital letters and some backward ones too, reading

"THANK YOU DR. KING 💜"

Mel’s throat tightened just a little. Not realizing how much the moment in the family room had affected her until now—how quiet and scared he had been, how tightly he held her hand.

And now, this.

She blinked a few times, pressing her lips together to keep the emotions at bay, then carefully refolded the picture and tucked it into the chest pocket of her scrubs.

She splashed a little cold water on her face, gave herself a final once-over in the mirror, and left the restroom with a clearer head.

Out on the floor again, things were picking up—alarms chiming, stretchers rolling past, voices rising in coordinated urgency. It was never still for long in the Pitt. But amid the chaos, Mel caught sight of Dr. Abbot at the end of the hall, already with a new patient, eyes locked in as he gave orders.

He hadn’t looked her way again. He didn’t need to.

She was starting to understand Jack Abbot now—how his gratitude was quiet but honest, how fiercely he cared beneath all that defensive sarcasm and night shift wit.

And somewhere in her pocket, a crayon-sketched thank-you from his son warmed her chest.

your honor I love them all

#the pitt #the pitt max #the pitt hbo #the pitt drabble #the pitt x reader #the pitt x you #jack abbot #jack abbot x reader #jack abbot x you #jack abbott #jack abbott x reader #jack abbott x you #dr. jack abbot #dr. jack abbot x reader #dr. jack abbot x you #❥ - Jack Abbot

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iamred-iamyellow · 8 months ago

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⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ Don’t Prove I’m Right - [Part 4]

♥ prev

♥ series masterlist | main masterlist

♥ pairing: lando norris x fem!reader

♥ series synopsis: you didn't think twice about the dj you hooked up with until you found out you were pregnant. turns out the man wasn't just some dj but a famous formula 1 driver.

♥ chapter synopsis: after his reckless decisions, lando attempts to make it up to you. it took some convincing from oscar but you eventually gave in and had a conversation with him.

♥ smau + written - fc: girls on pinterest - none of the pictures are mine

♥ warnings: swearing !!!

♥ a/n: its been MONTHS since the last chapter I am so sorry lovelies!

liked by logansargeant, lilyzneimer, lilymhe, and 120,538 more

yourusername ever since @/logansargeant and @/oscarpiastri got camila these plushies she’s been obsessed with them

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yourbestfriend please don’t tell me the deer is being replaced 😔

yourusername camila would never

lilyzneimer shes just too cute to not spoil

user1 haven’t seen lando in any of her posts recently 😕

user3 they did JUST get back to Monaco so I wouldn't be worried

user6 they're not dating either so I don't see why he would be

user4 we need a godfather reveal

logansargeant it’s me

oscarpiastri its me

carlossainz55 … it’s probably not me 😕

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

It had been a couple of days since your last conversation with Lando and a knock on your door drew your attention away from your phone.

A giant box was sitting on the doorstep alone with no sender information. You hesitantly brought it into the living room and grabbed a pocket knife to cut through the clear strip of tape. The box quickly burst open from the pressure of the deeply packed objects—about a dozen jellycats and an apology note placed on top.

It was clear to you that this package was from Lando, and it was a very sweet gesture. He’d clearly seen the post you made the previous day and was trying his best to make up for his mistakes. You sighed and folded the note up, setting it on your couch. You pulled out a soft pink bunny from the box causing Camila to squeal and hold her arms open.

You still hadn’t checked your texts from Lando, but Oscar was right. You couldn’t ignore him forever. Lily offered to take you out for the night in order to clear your head. You were extremely grateful for Lily’s support and generosity ever since you met her. She had truly become one of your best friends throughout this experience.

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

liked by lilymhe, carmenmundt,, and 102,843 more 102,473 more

yourusername girls night

tagged; @/lilyzneimer

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lilyzneimer <3

user1 we love a self care queen

user2 she’s so pretty

alexandrasaintmleux we should all hang out together <3

francisca.cgomes i second that

yourusername i’m so there

user7 i love that the wags include her 🥹

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

You sat next to Lily with a glass of white wine in your hand, conflicted. Of course you were. Like Oscar said, you had to confront him at some point, but it was going to take a lot for you to trust Lando again. You pulled your phone out of your purse.

You got the response pretty much immediately.

You sighed and turned to Lily, "I'm gonna go talk to Lando."

"Good luck," she said with a smile, and took another sip of her drink.

You picked Camila up off the couch and bundled her up in a small yellow blanket.

You were at his apartment in about twenty minutes. You knocked hesitantly, tapping your nails on the case of your phone and jangling your keys in attempt to reduce your anxiety. Lando opened the door in silence, letting you into the room. He sat back down on his couch and you followed, cradling your daughter in your arms and choosing to stand up as you spoke.

“Listen Y/n, I know what I did was-“

"I'm not going to take your child away from you,” you stated, cutting him off. “You said you want to be in her life, but you have to keep that promise."

He nodded and ran his hands across his face. You wanted to get straight to the point with no excuses. You had heard all of his apologies already.

"Lily talked to Kmag and found her a babysitter, so we're good on that end. But, you still have to earn back my trust to be alone with her and if anything like this happens again I won't be nice."

He looked back up at you, “It won’t ever happen again, I swear. It shouldn’t have happened in the first place.

”I agree.”

There was some awkward silence as you gently sat on the arm rest of the couch.

You looked down at your daughter, “She may not fully get it yet, but you’re her dad and she loves you,” you locked eyes with Lando again. “You chose to raise her with me, so you need to take responsibility.”

He nodded, “I understand.”

"Good," you responded, standing back up and stepping towards the front door. You paused without turning your head back towards him, "Good luck in Imola.”

With that you were gone.

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

end notes: this was short, I am aware! there was originally supposed to be more to this chapter but I decided to turn it into its own whole part lol :) I've already started working on it so stay tuned!

taglist; @hc-dutch, @papaya-twinks, @2pagenumb, @formulaal, @erin-odonnell04, @drunkinthemiddleoftheday, | @kissesandmartinis, @ironmaiden1313, @six-call, @wolflover384, @tremendousstarlighttragedy, | @ilivbullyingjeongin, @celestialend, @silentreader128, @wolflover384, @ellesssssxzxz | @clowngirlsstuff, @ln4smiamitrophy, @whoneedsgeorge, @chezmardybum, @warlike-morning, | @gigicisneros, @hard4ndsoft, @eveninggstar, @jolixtreesunn, @acesofspadess,| @formulaonebuff, @notpeachybby, @shesmugirl, @mxdi0, @ririyulife, | @kravitzwhore, @bellinghambby22, @helaenatargaryensfavoritebug, @maplesyrupsainz, @harrysdimple05, | @pippyth3hippy, @noneofyourfbusinessworld, @littlegrapejuice, | @majx00, | @si1ver06 | @weekendlusting | @landossainz,

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calolily · 5 months ago

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“Astarion’s breath caught in his throat as he heard the door latch shut. He tried to utter a soft “hello,” but his greeting was quickly stifled into the fabric that clung to Gale’s chest as he was pulled into a warm embrace.

For a moment, Astarion stood perfectly still. He felt the heat of his short breaths against the cotton of Gale’s clothing, bewildered and paralyzed by indecision. He was no stranger to hugs, rare as they were. He wasn’t unfamiliar with Gale’s hugs, either. But there was something about being held by Gale at that very moment that felt alien and strange to him. It felt like the first hug he’d ever received in his lifetime.

Astarion decided that maybe the world wouldn’t end if he allowed himself to rest his chin on his damp shoulder. The sun wouldn’t fall out of the sky, even if he did slowly wrap his arms around his body. His fingers clung to the edges of his hoodie, feeling the smooth, plush skin of his lower back gently graze his knuckles. The stars wouldn’t burn out if he focused on the sound of his heartbeat and compared it to his.

Ba-dump. Ba-dump. Ba-dump.

A familiar intrusive thought crossed Astarion’s mind, louder than it had ever dared to speak before:

Gods, I wish you would kiss me.

Shame and regret pooled in the pit of his stomach, rising up to his chest.

Would you even want that?

With little warning, the story of Orfeo and Proserpina that had been vividly carved into the proscenium archway from his nightmares barreled its way to the forefront of his mind. He pondered her death. His descent into the Hells to find her, lute in hand. The botched rescue.

He pictured the tangible anguish immortalized in his face as he watched her vanish into the ether.

Astarion felt his raw, red eyelids squeeze shut almost instinctively. He was both enamored and terror-struck by the safety he felt in Gale’s arms. He drew in the scent of sandalwood that mingled with the fresh notes of petrichor on his neck. He could feel the cold, wet, wavy strands of his hair clinging to his cheek. He felt so damn real. And he was real. Corporeal—not the immaterial figment of his imagination, the shade of stardust that seeped into his every dream. If he gave himself permission to look upon his face, just for a moment—if only to verify that he was more than a phantasmagorical apparition come to torment him with sweet, meaningless nothings in his darkest moment—would he vanish, too?

Dire as the mythological consequences sounded, Astarion dared to tempt fate—the chances he was dreaming were slim. Defiance was the one way he could think of to prove his theory to be true.

He opened his eyes.

To his relief, his feet were still firmly planted on the ground. His fists were still balled up in cotton fabric. He was still in Gale’s arms.

He wasn’t going anywhere.

Neither of them were.”

#bg3 #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #astarion #baldurs gate astarion #bloodweave #seen fic #bg3 fan art #bg3 companions #bg3 art #bg3 gale #bg3 fanart #gale bg3 #bg3 astarion #bg3 fanfiction

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hcneymooners · 5 months ago

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⋆ woman of my dreams, don't betray me.

wife!ambessa x wife!reader. men & minors dni.

synopsis: you and ambessa are wives, and your parents have come to visit the two of you. everything will be fine, or would've been if you mother hadn't brought up her desire for grandchildren.

cw: angst, angst with a happy ending, wife!ambessa, wife!reader, age difference, older woman/younger woman, sfw but suggestive content, emotional hurt/comfort, you're a little bit of a crybaby, anxiety attacks, discussions of children and pregnancy.

notes: i hate this so much, but ce la vie hmm? this is a drabble.

“Sweet girl, don't bite your nails. You'll be so upset later.”

“You'll just give me the money to get them done,” you mutter.

Still, your hands lower from your mouth to tremble yet again over the dinner you've painstakingly made.

Ambessa moves behind you, her presence steady and warm against your back. Her hands settle on your shoulders, thumbs working small circles into the knots that have been building there all day. You lean into her touch despite yourself, despite the anxiety that makes you want to vibrate out of your skin.

“Will this occur before or after you protest against me giving you too much?”

A laugh slips out of you before you can stop it, and you turn to slide your arms around her neck. You take in the strong line of her jaw, the crooked set of her lips with it’s thin stripe of golden jewlery in the middle. You thumb at it, face flushing slightly as she nips at the tip of your finger.

“My nails have yet to cost five hundred dollars, Bessa.”

“I include the tip.”

“I must be incredibly generous.”

“You are,” she hums, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Besides, you never think of tax.”

“Tax?” You say in disbelief. “What tax would they be adding that costs that much? Honestly, Bessa.”

“You never know,” she says with a slow smile. “They could swindle you very easily. You have such a trusting nature.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you tell her, cupping her face.

"Talk to me," she says, and her voice carries that gentle authority that first drew you to her. You turn away, your attempts at misleading her thwarted. "Is it your mother again?”

You stiffen under her hands. "Among other things." The roast in front of you blurs slightly.

You can picture her expression without turning around - that careful neutrality she wears when she's processing something that angers her. It's the same look she gets in meetings when someone has said something particularly stupid.

"And what did you say to her?"

"Nothing. I deleted it. I’ve never been any good at convincing her to leave me alone." You pull away from her hands to adjust a perfectly arranged plate for the third time. "It's easier than explaining. Than having the same argument over and over about how I'll change my mind, how I just haven't met the right person yet." You pause, throat tight. "As if you're not..."

"As if I'm not what?" There's an edge to her voice now, not angry but intent. When you don't answer, she gently turns you to face her. "Look at me, little dove."

You do, though it hurts. She's beautiful in the warm kitchen light, silver hair gleaming, dark eyes fixed on yours with an intensity that still makes your heart skip even after all this time. You see the question in them and can't bear to answer it.

"The table still needs-"

"The table is perfect. You're being avoidant."

A laugh bubbles up, slightly hysterical. "Isn't that what I do best?"

"No." Her hand cups your cheek. You can smell her: blonde wood, vetiver, pink pepper, dry vanilla. "What you do best is love fiercely and completely. And we agreed that that meant being honest with one another.”

She titls your head up, presses a thumb against your pulse. The action makes you almost confess the words that crowd your throat, threatening to spill out:

I'm terrified you'll realize I can't give you the family you deserve. That one day you'll look at me and see all the things I'm not, all the things I can't be. That you'll regret choosing someone so much younger, so much less certain of their place in the world. That my mother is right and I'm being selfish, denying you something fundamental.

But before you can voice any of it, the doorbell rings. Your whole body goes rigid. Your hands come to your sides and you’re back to shaking, neck burning with sudden stress.

“I’ll get the door,” you say.

Your voice is rasping, as if you’ve swallowed down endless snakes of smoke.

‧₊˚ ⋅ 𓐐𓎩 ‧₊˚ ⋅

Dinner is excruciating. Your mother talks about your cousin's new baby, about how wonderful motherhood looks on her, about how she's "simply glowing." You push food around your plate and feel Ambessa's concerned glances, even as she masterfully deflects conversation toward politics, toward her work, toward anything else.

But with each deflection, you can feel her growing more tense beside you - the way she sets her wine glass down with just a fraction more force, how her knife scrapes against the china with military precision.

"But really," your mother says, wine glass tilting dangerously in her hand, "I just don't understand why you two haven't started trying yet. Ambessa, dear, you must want more children? And you're not getting any younger-"

The fork clatters from your hand. "Mother."

You can feel your body pulsing with that sick warmth that comes with the rush of tears. You’re boring a hole through the dining room table with your gaze, eyes growing large and wet. If you were a lamb, you’d be bleating except your mother is the wolf so who will be the one to save you?

Beside you, Ambessa goes perfectly, terrifyingly still. The kind of stillness that precedes a storm, that makes the hair on the back of your neck rise. You can see her hand flat against the table, the metal of her rings catching the light, and you know without looking that her face has taken on that marble-smooth expression that makes junior officers quake in their boots.

"I'm only giving you something to think about, my love. I’ve been you before. You think you have so much time, you know? It’s just—you've always been so good with kids, sweetheart. Remember how you used to babysit for the Hendersons? And Ambessa's children turned out so well-"

"Stop." Your voice comes out strangled. "Please."

Ambessa's hand sneaks under the table to grasp your thigh. The touch is slightly grounding but you can feel the tremor in her fingers - not from fear, but from restraint. You know she wants you to look at her, but then you'll really begin to lose it.

You'll spill over, right into her lap, because she always could unlatch your body in ways you thought were only for other people.

You catch the slight movement of her jaw, the way she swallows whatever cutting remark she wants to make. Because this is your mother, and Ambessa—for all her power, all her authority, because of the love—is letting you handle this your way. But the tension in her body screams of fury, of a woman forced to watch her beloved take wounds she can't deflect.

"I don't see why you're being so sensitive about this. It's a natural progression-"

"Natural?" You're standing now, though you don't remember deciding to. "Natural is me not wanting to vomit every time someone mentions me being pregnant. Natural is not having a panic attack every time you send me another fertility clinic link or baby clothes or-" Your voice breaks. "I can't. I can't do this."

You flee, ignoring your mother's startled "Well!" and your father's awkward attempt to change the subject. You're halfway up the stairs before the tears start properly, and by the time you reach your bedroom, you can barely see. The door locks behind you with a satisfying click.

You stumble to the vanity, clutch blindingly at your hair to yank out the pins. You feel out of control, your hands sliding up your neck and over your face.

A sob slips out despite you clutching your fingers over your mouth, and you press at your stomach until you feel the urge to dispel the mixture of your decayed dinner and acid that sits within it.

The bed. You need to be under the bed. It's childish and ridiculous but it's where you used to hide when things got too much, and right now everything is too much. You curl up in the darkness there, pressed against the wall, and try to remember how to breathe.

Time passes. You hear murmured voices downstairs, the front door opening and closing. Footsteps on the stairs - Ambessa's, you'd know them anywhere.

"Little dove?" A gentle knock. "Let me in?"

"It's unlocked," you manage, voice thick.

The door opens. A pause.

"Are you under the bed?"

"...yeah."

Another pause. Then, to your utter astonishment, you hear grunting and turn to find Ambessa - your tall, dignified, warrior-queen wife - attempting to squeeze herself under the bed frame.

"What are you doing?" you ask, hiccuping between tears and startled laughter.

"Coming to get you," she says, voice strained as she wriggles forward. "Though I'm beginning to think this bed was not built for someone of my size."

"You're going to get stuck."

"Then we'll be stuck together." She finally manages to get next to you, though she has to lie completely flat to fit. "Hello, sweet girl."

A rush of gratitude floods you and you press forward, drawing her into a soft kiss. She deepens it, sliding a large hand underneath your thigh and holding you to her. You part with a soft, slick noise.

“You’re always meeting me where I am, even when you don’t understand,” you tell her. “Literally.”

You gesture weakly at the whole predicament. The absurdity of it - Ambessa Medarda, covered in dust bunnies, cramped under a bed - breaks something in you.

"I have this terrible secret inside me, and it’s that I feel so—so sick when I think about being a mother," you blurt out. The words slide out of you, like maggots from a rotting body. "Not—not your children, I love them, but being one myself. Having them. I can't. I won't. And I know you must want- but I can't, I just can't, please don't leave me.” You begin to sob again. “Please, Bessa. Please don’t leave me. Please. Plea-”

"Shh." She pulls you closer, awkward in the confined space but no less tender for it. You tuck your head into her neck as she soothes you. "Shh, my love. I'm not going anywhere."

"But-"

"I have two children," she says firmly. "Two wonderful, grown children who I love dearly. I have never once thought about having more. What I want - all I want - is you. Happy. Whole. Exactly as you are."

You're crying again, but differently now. "Really?"

"Really." She strokes your hair, rocking you as best she can in the tight space. "Though I would very much like to have this conversation somewhere with fewer dust bunnies."

You laugh wetly into her shirt. "Sorry."

"Don't be. I would crawl under a thousand beds for you. Even into a grave." She kisses your forehead. "But perhaps we could move on top of this one? My back is not what it used to be."

"You’re really not getting any younger," you quip, the onslaught of relief making you giddy.

"Watch it, little dove." But she's smiling - you can hear it in her voice. "Now come out before we really do get stuck."

“What if we stayed here forever,” you whisper, “and you never let me go?”

She releases you, then shimmies out from the crawl space. Gently, she curls a hand around your ankle and pulls you out with a sharp yank. You gasp as you emerge from your hiding space, hair spilling around you and your dress rucked up just enough to display your panties.

Ambessa leans over, drags the dress further up until she can kiss the swell of your breasts. She looks up you, face ever-calculating.

“I will never release you,” she finally says.

It should scare you, the clear promise, but it doesn’t. You lead her hand to your throat, just to hold it there, and smile instead.

#ambessa medarda #ambessa x you #ambessa x y/n #ambessa x reader #ambessa arcane #ambessa league of legends #ambessa the chosen of the wolf #female!reader #fem!reader #arcane fanfic #arcane x you #arcane x reader #wlw #lesbian #sapphic #mine ; 🐎.

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gaypirate420 · 5 months ago

Note

Viktor running his fingers through m! Readers hair and Jayce is getting jealous of us so Viktor starts giving him a scalp massage too.

This was inspired by that viral post of Viktor High Key being a Dom.

Here nyehehehhe, very short I'm sorry.

Puppies// Jayvik

S1!Jayvik x male!reader.

Summary: Viktor has two puppies in a lab.

Suggestive. Fluff.

Viktor takes a small sip from his drink, the sugary taste of the sweet milk traveling down his mouth, his amber eyes looked down, you and Jayce where on the floor, a chalk in hand as each of you drew his notes on the literal floor of the lab, per his request, something about scaling.

"Is this big enough for you?" You asked a little breathlessly as you leaned back on your knees, going backwards trying not to mess the chalk drawing, a small pout adorning your face as you placed chalk, ruler and measuring tape to a side, you were the first one to protest against this idea.

"it gives me a better view, sweetling." The pale man answered back before returning his lips to his mug, Jayce sighed and shook his head, the sound of chalk and his tired breaths filling the air for a moment.

"Bigger papers exist, V." The tall one mumbled as he kept drawing, his knees already feeling a little sore after being in the cold floor of the lab.

"No need to whine, love, a little mopping will get rid of it." Viktor answered back before taking another sip, you rubbed your eyes, a soft yawn escapes your lips as you rest your head on his lap, avoiding his brace for an inch. His brows were furrowed deep in thought as he saw his blueprint on the floor.

"We have to take a break, we're going insane! We're drawing on the floor! We're scientists not cavemen." You mumbled against his thigh, the sound a little muffled. Viktor shushed you gently and returned to his own little mental palace, one of his hands left his mug, his pale and slender fingers finding your hair. He could feel your tired exhale against his leg.

His touch is gentle, slow, his eyes focused on your tense shoulders, he carefully digs deeper, massaging slowly. Almost as an apology for the burden of making you drag yourself around on the floor drawing.

Jayce finally finished his part, looking down at the whole layout and starting to take mental notes, he steps back to allow the zaunite to see the drawing completely. He claps his hands, getting rid of any chalk dust in them.

The taller man's hazel eyes catch the tender scene, you, on your knees by Viktor's side, your hair getting played with, he feels a warmth creeping on his cheeks, he looks away quickly and tries to focus on the drawing but something else start to brew. Jealousy.

"Hm." Jayce sat down on the floor too, perhaps a little inspired by you on Viktor's left side, he swallowed as his eyes focused on the drawing almost too much and too intensely. Viktor placed his mug between his thighs, he smirks ever so faintly and his hand goes to brush the taller one's hair back, the reaction is immediate, a soft sigh hangs on the air, he leans against his thigh too as Viktor brushes down his neck.

"I can picture your tails wagging perfectly." Viktor said with a teasing tone, you chuckled against him while Jayce whimpers and hides his face on his thigh. Both of you are blushing though, neither pulling away from his touch.

A/N: HEYYYY, hi, how are y'all...I know I KNOW I have some promised fics on the waiting but I'm picky and I want to enjoy my winter break I'm sorry, arrest me. Hope y'all liked this!

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ichorai · 28 days ago

Text

chiropterology — birthday boy.

drabble synopsis ; damian wayne turns nine! warnings ; none!

series masterlist.

“Mother!” Damian called, alerting your attention from the gifts table, where you were arranging the various different boxes in a somewhat presentable manner (you made sure to put yours front and center). “Please shoot me with this crossbow so I do not have to put up with one more minute of his camera shoved in my face.”

“Oh, you’re being so dramatic,” you said with a light tone, pinching the boy’s cheeks and straightening the party hat on his head. “It’s not every day you turn nine. And look at you, you look so handsome in this suit!” Though, with a sharp look at Dick, you said, “Let the kid breathe!”

“Sorry, they just—” Dick paused to sniffle and wipe away an imaginary tear. “They grow up so fast!”

“Can we just cut the cake and get it over with?” Damian huffed, crossing his arms, growing incredibly impatient.

Barbara, who had been on the phone with Bruce, shot you an OK sign. “They were able to secure the you-know-what!”

“Mm. Took them long enough…” you muttered. “They’re over an hour late.”

Damian surveyed the pile of gifts on the table, his mouth twisted down into a frown. “Stupid tradition for stupid children…”

“Oh, really?” you said, drumming your fingers along your wrapped gift. “So, say that I’ve spent the past few weeks making a super cool shrink ray that works maybe ninety-percent of the time and is completely yours to add to your arsenal of weapons, given you use it ethically… would it still be a stupid tradition? Because in that case, maybe I should just… take this back to the lab with me…”

This practically made Damian’s ears perk up. You began to drag the present closer to you when, eye twitching with irritation, he exclaimed, “Stop!” Damian inhaled sharply. “Hypothetically, if a shrink ray were to be inside that box, it would be a waste for me not to accept it as a gift.”

Dick ruffled Damian’s hair, sending his party hat askew once more. The younger of the two batted away Dick’s hands like an overstimulated cat. “You know, Damian, normally you’re supposed to say thank you.”

Damian clicked his tongue to the roof of his mouth, glaring at his brother. Nonetheless, he drew his eyes to the ground and murmured, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” you quipped, bouncing on the balls of your feet, glad that Damian at least liked the idea of your gift. Bruce certainly wasn’t going to be happy with Damian having yet another weapon to torment his brothers with, but since when did you let that stop you?

Finally, after another fifteen minutes of dawdling, the front door of the manor swung open, Jason in the lead with Bruce and Cass right behind him. “Look at him in the suit and tie!” Jason exclaimed upon seeing Damian. “Who did this to you? Babs? Alfred? Mom?”

You gasped in mock-offense. “A suit would be the very last thing I’d force him into. If it were up to me, Damian would be in the invisibility cloak I made for him last year, but, hey, we can’t get everything we want.”

“It was a very nice cloak, mother,” Damian admitted.

“Awh, thanks, hon.” You straightened his party hat again.

Cass strode into the living room holding Damian’s most anticipated gift—what he’d been forced to wait hours for.

“What did you bring me?” Damian demanded, eyeing his father suspiciously.

“Happy birthday, son. Sorry I’m late,” Bruce said, kneeling down to the height of his son. He could feel your piercing glare at the side of his head, and winced knowing he was going to get an earful later that night.

Turning his head to the side, Damian retorted, “You’re always late.”

At this, Bruce met your eyes, which had softened considerably, then looked back to the birthday boy. “Did you have a nice time with your mother, Barbara and Dick? How was the museum?”

“Yeah, it was… adequate,” said Damian, scratching the back of his neck, suddenly bashful. “Dick would not stop taking pictures.”

Bruce smiled when Dick waved from the table full of sweets Alfred had whipped up, holding up a camera and snapping a picture of Jason with Barbara.

“I wasn’t sure what to get you,” Bruce told his son, “but Dick and Cassandra had a really good suggestion. It was their idea, but I went to the adoption agency to meet the—”

A loud yip sounded from the blanket-covered carrier Cass was holding. She uncovered it with a grin, and a small brown dog came barreling out, barking with excitement as he dashed straight towards Bruce.

“A puppy?” said Damian, eyes wide with wonder.

“Sure is.” Bruce held out the frenzied pup to his son. “And he’s all yours.”

You could’ve sworn you saw Damian’s pupils dilate. You stuck your fist out to Dick, who immediately gave you a fist-bump. “You might just have me beat on the gift-giving front.”

“What can I say? I’m Damian’s favorite brother.”

Your expression turned incredulous. “Oh, don’t let him hear you say that.”

Typically, Damian with his sharp hearing would have turned and made a snippy comment, but he was completely distracted, enamoured by his new puppy.

“Mother—” he glanced up at you, “—my other mother never let me have a pet. She always said attachments to living things made you weak.”

Bruce placed his hands on his son’s shoulders. “And you’re one of the strongest people I know, Damian.”

“Well? What are you naming him?” asked Jason.

Without hesitation, Damian grinned and commanded his puppy, “Sit, Murder King, sit!” The puppy, to everyone else’s surprise, obeyed immediately. Damian really had a knack for animals.

“You can’t name your dog that,” Barbara deadpanned.

You clapped with a cheery beam. “Murder King is brilliant! I’ll have that laser-engraved into his collar tag.”

“Happy birthday, Master Damian,” announced Alfred, now coming in with a three-tiered cake, done up with artful frosting, pristine lettering, and nine lit candles.

After the terribly off-pitch birthday song and Dick popping a confetti wrapper that stuck to everyone’s hair, Damian blew out the candles. “I still think this is a stupid tradition for stupid children.”

You smiled at him. “We love you, Damian.”

“Happy birthday, buddy,” Bruce said. He wrapped an arm around your waist and tugged you closer. Any and all annoyance you harbored towards your husband over the past few hours seemingly evaporated.

Damian scowled at his parents, whose faces were disgustingly close to each other. “Please refrain from kissing each other on my birthday.”

#bruce wayne x reader #batfamily x reader #batman x reader #bruce wayne fanfiction #bruce wayne fluff #batfamily fluff #batfamily #batman x batmom #batfamily headcanons #batmom x batfamily #jason todd #damian wayne

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babybearnation · 9 months ago

Text

old masterlist

anons: 🍑, 💙, 🐍, 🎩, 📞, 🥐, 🃏, 🦊, C, 🥡, 🐜, 🔒, 🍬, 🐨, 💘, 🥄, 💫, 🥔, くコ:彡, 🐥, ♉, 🏎🌷

the grid:

you got me feelin' butterflies, butterflies - asking you on a date

darling, you're the one i want - you wear a number that isn't theirs

your first and my last name would just sound better together - you call them by their full name

cause you make my heart race - they accidentally confess their feelings

i had the best day with you today - you surprise them with a pet

king of my heart, body and soul - they win a race

oh, dear, don't be discouraged - they find out you're crying

hey baby, welcome to my world - arthur, liam & mick's texts for the posts above

you drew stars around my scars - you're insecure about your surgery scars

you're the greatest thing we've lost - they confess after you get replaced mid season

you belong with me - they're jealous of your toxic ex

jealousy, jealousy - you get shipped with another driver & their jealous

silence finally in my head - you give them the silent treatment

you are in love, true love - you have a crush on their teammate

give me more than just some butterflies - you text them the lyrics to juno by sabrina carpenter

twenty stitches in a hospital room - you crash and don't tell them

this is the sound, it's our sound - you're a musician

so light me up and let me burn - you do a break up prank

on a wednesday in a cafe - you prank them with a fake date

come take a picture - you accidentally send them an explicit picture

you're everything i'm dreaming of - you accidentally confess to them

must be the good boy - you call them a good boy

you don't need no invitation - "he's gone, you can come over now"

i'm so sick (of lying) - you hide that you're sick

it was the very first night - you accidentally text them after a night together

cherish my love - you text them after your first date

hey baby, i think i wanna marry you - they overhear you call them your husband

when you lovingly call my name - you exchange contact names

just look at me baby, day and night - you ask them to come home and take care of you

you're wearing nothing but my t-shirt - you send them a spicy pic at an inconvenient time

runnin' home to your sweet nothings - cute, domestic texts

talk to you later, later - you call him bro after sex

but daddy, i love him - you call him daddy

so kiss me, kiss me, kiss me - you forget to kiss him before you go out

oh, i wonder who i'm looking for - "they're busy, bro"

i miss you, i'm sorry - they miss you when you're away

i've already lost control - you ask if you can take control in the bedroom

the pages of our relationship arc - you try and break up with them due to insecurities

i wanna know (what is love?) - you don't say i love you back

baby, so please, cheat on me - they pull the "i know you cheated" prank

good luck, baby, good luck to you - you don't wish them good luck before a race

am i still not good enough? - you ask them to save you from a bad date

i need ya focus on me - they accidentally send you an explicit picture

that pretty, pretty boy - you're dysphoric

uh oh, i'm falling in love - you share when you first fell for each other

money, money, money (must be funny) - your rent is ridiculously expensive

i'm coming out - you come out without telling them

i'm lying so i won't get caught - he hides that he's sick

can you see my feeling? (oopsy) - polyam!drivers accidentally message the wrong gc

i love it because i love you - he talks about you in his native language

privacy sign on the door - your relationship is about to be leaked

i want you to be happier - polyam!drivers - one of you isn't feeling the best

spice it up, up, up, roll up - drivers x genderfluid!reader

pull it to the side and get all up in it - "raw, next question"

you're wonderin' why half his clothes went missin' - you walk in on each other changing

i will give you all my love - polyam!drivers nearly/fully ruin their surprise

now i've read all of the books beside your bed - you're a bookworm

think i like you best when you're just with me - you're trying to quit smoking

act like an angel and dress like crazy - you show them your revealing outfit

alex albon:

nothing yet...

arthur leclerc:

baby, i don't wanna waste my time - your relationship isn't over already, is it?

charles leclerc:

ride on the highway to heaven - texts w/ biker reader

i love the light that i found in you - charles x reader x oscar

guess i'll just stumble on home to my cats - lestappen x reader - they argue over pets

take me out, and take me home - charles x reader x george - domestic texts

dino beganovic:

cause, oh, they make me feel alive - dino x reader x kimi x paul

george russell:

i'll give you the best years - george x reader x oscar (ft. bff!lando)

take me out, and take me home - george x reader x charles - domestic texts

zhou guanyu:

nothing yet...

kimi antonelli:

cause, oh, they make me feel alive - kimi x reader x dino x paul

i looked at you like the stars that shine - kimi x reader x ollie

you said "i'm a better driver" - kimi x f1 driver!reader x ollie

take me out, and take me home - kimi x reader x ollie - domestic texts

i feel so close to you right now - he's clingy, but you're not together

hey, cupid has shot my heart - ollie plays matchmaker

lance stroll:

boy, you got me drunk on a feeling - he accidentally drinks your drink

lando norris:

they don't know me like my baby - lando x reader x max

screaming and fighting and kissing in the rain - landoscar x reader - they argue due to papaya rules

he said "fuck me like i'm famous" - landoscar x reader - end of/post-season shenanigans

tell me what you want, tell me what you need - he's jealous (ft. max f, keegan & oscar)

liam lawson:

nothing yet...

logan sargeant:

long live the walls we crashed through - loscar x reader - you're the 2023 rookies

max verstappen:

they don't know me like my baby - max x reader x lando

guess i'll just stumble on home to my cats - lestappen x reader - they argue over pets

mick schumacher:

nothing yet...

ollie bearman:

i looked at you like the stars that shine - ollie x reader x kimi

you said "i'm a better driver" - ollie x f1 driver!reader x kimi

take me out, and take me home - ollie x reader x kimi - domestic texts

oscar piastri:

screaming and fighting and kissing in the rain - landoscar x reader - they argue due to papaya rules

i'll give you the best years - oscar x reader x george (ft. bff!lando)

i love the light that i found in you - oscar x reader x charles

driving home for christmas - you're spending christmas alone... or are you?

he said "fuck me like i'm famous" - landoscar x reader - end of/post-season shenanigans

long live the walls we crashed through - loscar x reader - you're the 2023 rookies

paul aron:

cause, oh, they make me feel alive - paul x reader x dino x kimi

seasons start to change, i've been daydreaming for days - you're oblivious to his feelings

the code is l-o-v-e - paul x reader

cause i've got a soft spot (i've got it for you) - you don't play favourites, but with paul...

pierre gasly:

nothing yet...

yuki tsunoda:

nothing yet...

formula e:

in the heat of your electric touch - it's his first formula e weekend (zm22)

miscellaneous:

three short hours (three long weeks) - you can't sleep without each other (fc43)

give you my love, mi corazón - josep maria martí x reader

#ᵔᴥᵔ navi

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jarofstyles · 10 months ago

Note

hi! i cannot express how u have i adore your writing!!

this is my first time resending in an ask so i don’t know if i’m doing it right lol, but i would love to see this prompt:

“you're fucking gorgeous like that, spread out like a good girl who just wants to be eaten.”

for bsf’s dad harry.

thanks!!

Hi Angel! Thank you so much, you’re so sweet! You absolutely did it right and I’d be happy to write a little blurb for it.

Check out our Patreon

Warnings- age gap relationship, smut hehe

———

Y/N felt the shiver run through her body as she looked up at Harry. He’d arrived home from work, one of the unfortunate days he actually had to go into the office, calling for her. Usually she dealt with these days just fine, but today… she had been feeling exceptionally needy.

Sprawled out on his bed, her fingers dipped over her swollen clit and her hair fanned over his pillow, she laid naked on top of the downy comforter. Slick to the touch, hot and throbbing under her fingertips, her eyes peeked through her lashes as she gave him a tiny little smile, the slow circles drawn into her cunt slowing just a bit.

“Hi, Daddy.” She purred.

His jaw clenched, tightening up as he dropped his suit jacket onto the bench at the end of the bed. There was no hiding the hunger in his eyes as he drew them over her naked form, pausing at her pebbled nipples, soft little tummy and right between her thighs.

“Hi, sweetheart.” He murmured. Slightly disheveled, his tie was undone and his sleeves rolled up on his button up-‘and god, if that didn’t make her even more wet. His hair he’d slicked back had fallen slightly, a few strands on his forehead as he knelt on the edge of the bed. “What’s goin’ on over here, hm?” He tilted his head, fingers curling around the bedpost. “S’my girl feeling a little needy?”

“Mhm.” She hummed, spreading her legs further and pulling her fingers away so he could see the arousal stringing on her fingertips.

“Christ.” He muttered under his breath. “Why didn’t y’call me, baby? I could have been quicker getting home.” As if he didn’t worship her already, she had to admit that the genuine disappointment made her keen.

“Cause you need t’focus. I can’t be a brat just because M’a little too horny.” The girl pouted. “You’ve told me not to be a brat. I think it would be a little bratty to have you rush home just to make me cum… wouldn’t it?”

“Not when you’re the only best I have t’look forward to when I get home.” He shook his head, crawling up the bed and flittering his eyes between her cunt and her face. “You’ve been so good to me. Rarely ever a brat anymore. S’cause I fuck you right, I know, but you’ve been insatiable lately. Can’t say I’m complaining.” His lips smeared over her knee as he slowly inched closer, laying himself down between her pretty thighs. “Didn’t know I’d come home to such a pretty picture. Could be very motivating for me.”

Considering his last marriage had been a disaster at the end and he’d been unused to this, it still felt like there were times he needed to pinch himself over the fact that he had Y/N. It wasn’t without sacrifice, but he considered each and every one to be a worthy one in exchange for the sort of relationship he’d always craved. At the risk of sounding in the midst of a mid life crisis, she made him feel young again. “You’re fucking gorgeous like that, baby.” He groaned, gently taking her wrist and moving it away from herself, exposing her pussy to him. “Spread out like my good girl. She was jus’ waiting to be eaten as soon as daddy came in the door, wasn’t she?”

Y/N let out a shuddery breath as his tongue slicked up her slit, starting his own clean up mission. Her clean hand tangled in his hair, ruining any semblance of hold that his gel had tried to keep. “Yeah.” The dreamy sigh was aimed right for his cock.

“I know. I missed you… missed this perfect cunt, fuck.” He groaned, hooking his arms under her thighs and pulling her into him. Nuzzling into her pussy without a second thought, no hesitation to get his face wet. It was an honor to taste her and he wasn’t holding back as his lips suckled around her clit.

“Oh my- yes.” Her head fell back against the pillows, his mouth suctioned against her cunt and hands holding her thighs. “Yes, I missed you. Missed you so much.” She whispered, bucking up against his mouth. Tongue flicking against her clit and slow head movements as he pulled at her, sucking and licking each little motion to make her eyes water.

“Jus’ call me next time, baby.” He mumbled the words, muffled by the kisses he pressed to her mound. “Care about you more than business. Don’t wait it out when I want you just as bad.”

#jarofstyles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfic #harry styles smut #harry writing #harry styles imagine #harry drabble #harry styles blurb #harry styles writing #harry fanfic #harry styles fanfics #harry styles fic #harry smut #harry styles fanfictions #harry styles au #harry styles one shots

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fluentmoviequoter · 1 year ago

Text

Poisonously Bad Day

Requested Here! (Thank you so much for my first Tim Bradford req!!)

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!reader

Summary: Just before your anniversary with Tim, you receive threatening messages. When someone tries to take your life, you and Tim learn the importance of talking to one another. (Or, Tim's crazy ex stalks you and Tim gets really worried about you.)

Warnings: reader is stalked and threatened, violence with a nail gun, reader has severe food allergies and uses an epi-pen, a little bit of grumpy x sunshine with our favorite grump, angst to fluff & hurt/comfort

Word Count: 4.1k+ words

A/N: I do not have much practice writing for Tim, so I apologize if he's OOC. However, I really love writing for him and trying to capture his amazing character, so I love the practice and appreciate any other requests you send me! I hope you enjoy and please let me know what you think!🤍

Masterlist | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

Picture from Pinterest

Tim Bradford doesn’t believe in love at first sight. Or he didn’t before he met you. Your sunny personality drew him in, making his world a little brighter. From the moment he met you a few months ago, Tim has been enraptured by you. He’s still grumpy; his personality didn’t change overnight upon meeting you, but your sweet laugh and kind responses to his grumpiness make him happy. His smile isn’t as rare as it once was, but you still fight to see it, bringing as much sunshine as possible.

As your two-month anniversary approaches, you’re happier and giddier than usual. Toning it down as you knock on Tim’s door, you’re surprised to see him already smiling when he invites you in. It seems you’re rubbing off on him, even if he only shows you the softness that lies under the grumpy Tim you know and love. Although your relationship is very new, you haven’t even learned much about Tim’s previous relationships, you know you love him and treasure every moment you spend with your man of honor.

“Hey, you,” Tim mumbles, pulling you into a warm hug. “Missed you.”

“Long day?” you ask, pushing your fingers through his hair.

“Unbelievably. Nolan and Lopez decided to interrogate me about why I was in a ‘good mood’ all day.”

You stifle a laugh at Tim’s air quotes. He rolls his eyes when he sees your bright smile but pulls you into the kitchen anyway.

“I didn’t even know you could smile,” you tease him. “Now I want to know what caused the good mood.”

“I think you know.”

Despite his initial hesitance in getting close to you, Tim obviously knows how to treat you right and make you feel seen, appreciated, beautiful, and loved. Each moment you spend with him makes you a little more curious as to why no one has snatched him up yet. Yes, he’s grumpy, but he’s also just a big teddy bear underneath if you’re willing to dig.

✯✯✯✯✯

Tim usually walks you home after dates, but he gets called into work, so you return alone. There is a small envelope slipped in the space between your door and the jamb, and you decide to open it before going inside.

The simple message reading ‘Back Off’ doesn’t give much information, so you shrug as you unlock the door. It’s probably just some kids messing around or a silly prank that ended up at the wrong house.

As soon as you lock the door behind you, your phone rings.

“Hello,” you greet cheerfully.

The line is silent for a few seconds before it beeps, disconnected from the other end.

“Wrong number,” you hum to yourself as you walk away from the phone.

When it rings again, you don’t answer. Your cell phone rings, a rare picture of Tim smiling (that he will delete as soon as he finds it) lighting up your screen as you race to answer it.

“Hey,” you say.

“I called your house a second ago, are you home yet?”

“Oh, yeah. Sorry, someone called right before with a wrong number, and I thought it was them again.”

Tim hums before telling you he wouldn’t be at work as long as he thought; he just needed to help with some paperwork before a case went to court.

“I can get reservations for next weekend if you’re still okay with my restaurant choice.”

You smile at Tim’s willingness to let you choose before assuring him that you only want to be with him, but you like the food there, too, so it’s a win-win.

After Tim hangs up, you fall asleep, forgetting about the note and the phone call.

✯✯✯✯✯

Someone knocks on your door as you exit your bedroom the following morning. You locate a bathrobe, pulling it over your pajamas before opening the door. Another envelope is on your mat, but no one is in sight.

The message in this one is a bit more concerning. The message, typed in a plain black font, reads: ‘I will KILL you to take him back.’

You consider calling Tim, asking him if he knows of any pranks like this going on in the neighborhood before deciding he’s probably too busy with real police work. Maybe you’re just paranoid.

Your cell phone rings, and you answer quickly, silencing when the only noise on the other end is distorted breathing. After they hang up, your thumb hovers over Tim’s number.

“Grow up,” you chide yourself before returning to your room to get ready.

✯✯✯✯✯

Throughout the day, more creepy phone calls are made to your cell phone until you finally turn it off. When you meet Tim for lunch, he asks if you got the message he sent you, and you tell him a white lie: too many telemarketers were calling, and you turned it off. He nods, but his gaze is intense like he doesn’t quite believe you.

✯✯✯✯✯

After three days of phone calls with nothing but breathing and more notes about someone killing you to get whoever him is back from you, you’re tired. However, the morning goes by with no calls, and you think maybe whatever it was is finally over. When you walk out to your car, you freeze in the driveway and nearly drop everything you’re holding.

Someone has slashed your tire and put a large building nail through it to attach a note.

You are next.

Up to this point, you’ve been more agitated than anything, but now you’re scared. Whoever this is has been close to you and knows when you come and go. But, at the same time, it’s just some notes and phone calls, not like you’re in any immediate danger.

Your phone buzzes, and you jump, an incoming text from Tim startling you. You reply to his message quickly, telling him you ran over a nail at some point and won’t be able to meet him for lunch. Seconds after pressing send, he calls you.

“Morning,” you answer, staring at the nail in your tire.

“Are you alright?” he asks, ignoring your nice greeting.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m still at home, just noticed the tire.”

“I can come pick you up for lunch,” he offers. “Or come see you.”

“It’s completely out of the way, Tim, no worries. I’ll make up for it tomorrow?”

Tim doesn’t speak for a moment, and you can nearly see the crease on his forehead as he dissects your answers.

“Sure,” he says finally. “Call me if that changes.”

As he ends the call, he rubs his chin and decides to ask you what’s going on next time he sees you. You had been so happy and excited leading up to your anniversary, but it’s like a switch was flipped in you, and now you don’t want to talk to him. He believes you about the tire, but something else is bothering you, and he intends to find out what.

✯✯✯✯✯

Eating lunch at your desk, someone brings you a box from your favorite bakery.

“This was delivered to the front desk,” your coworker says, leaving it with you.

There are no names on it, but Tim is one of very few people who knows how much you like their treats. He also knows that you have severe food allergies, and it is one of the few bakeries in Los Angeles that happily works around them. Smiling at the idea of Tim sending you something after your rough morning, you open the box and take one of the goodies out.

After the third or fourth bite, you realize something is really wrong. As your throat closes, you start to panic as you dig through your bag for your epi-pen. One of the girls at a desk near you sees you and rushes to your aid, pulling your spare epi-pen from the communal snack area and inserting the tip into your leg as she yells for someone else to call 911.

The adrenaline surges into you, clearing your throat as you take a deep breath. Immediately, you know that whoever slashed your tires knows more than where you live and when you leave.

✯✯✯✯✯

The hospital is busy, and people are in and out of your room so frequently that you can barely think straight. You hear someone yell your name, recognizing Tim’s voice anywhere. He appears in the doorway a moment later, wide-eyed as he looks you over.

“I completely forgot I put you as my emergency contact. I’m so sorry,” you apologize lowly.

“What happened?” he asks, his voice softer than it was outside as he nears your side.

“I- I ate something and forgot to check the ingredients. Then I couldn’t find my epi-pen.”

Tim knows you always check the ingredients; your allergies dictate part of your life. If you didn’t make it or order it after inquiring about its ingredients or how it’s made, you don’t eat it.

“How are you feeling now?” Tim asks, deciding it’s not the best time to press for the truth. His hand lands on your leg, rubbing gentle circles with his thumb.

“I’m okay. My chest is still a little tight but they gave me something for it.”

“Let me call my chief and I’ll take the rest of the day off so I can take you home,” he offers.

“No, don’t do that, Tim. One of my coworkers can give me a ride home so you can go back to work.”

“I don’t think you should be alone.”

“The medicine is working, I just have to give it time and take it easy for a few hours. I promise I will be fine.”

Tim nods, squeezing your hand before kissing your forehead. “If you need anything, call me.”

You nod, watching him go. The feeling of his hand on yours is still there, and you feel terrible for lying to him, but there’s no real evidence that someone is trying to hurt you. Maybe someone was trying to be kind with the treats and didn’t know about your allergies.

Even as you think it, you realize it sounds ridiculous. You’re in danger, and you’re going to have to tell someone eventually.

✯✯✯✯✯

Your coworker drops you off after you insist you can walk to the door alone. Mostly, you don’t want her to see the giant nail in your tire.

Worse, you realize, is the other one. You slow when you see your front door, with a six-inch building nail driven into it. It’s nearly level with your eyes, and a disgusting mix of red and brown paint covers the door below it. A replica of a murder scene, you presume.

Finally understanding that every little thing over the last few days has been a threat, you don’t feel safe alone in your house. Stepping back, you prepare to call Tim.

Before you can, you see a woman standing in your driveway, staring at you with a nail gun and a paintbrush hanging from her hand.

“Who are you?” you ask quietly, swallowing as you try to steady your voice.

“I’m the one that Tim Bradford is supposed to be with,” she answers, slowly moving toward you. “Everyone could see how good we were together. Then you showed up and he changed his mind about me. Whatever you did to get him away from me… I will do so much more to you.”

You step backward as she speaks, fumbling with your keys behind your back. Just as she reaches the front of your porch, you step inside quickly and slam the door, locking it and looking around frantically for something you can use as a weapon. It gets quiet outside, not even a footstep audible as you hold your breath to listen.

A key slides easily into your lock, and you scramble into the kitchen, loosening your grip on your stuff to grab a knife on your way to the bathroom, one of the only doors that lock. The front door closes and locks, her easy footsteps far too familiar with the layout of your home.

Reaching for your phone to call for help, you realize that you dropped your phone to get the knife. You stand in front of the bathtub, terrified as you raise the knife in front of your chest.

After a moment of silence that seems to last an eternity, the doorknob jiggles. You tighten your grip on the knife handle as she hums.

A nail shoots through the lock, lodging in the metal mechanisms, and you back up until your calves are pressed to the cool side of the tub. Another nail comes through the door, launching through the hollow wood and lodging into the tile on the wall behind you. You drop your head as the tile shatters, and a third nail follows quickly, her aim much lower as it hooks your pants, pinning you to the porcelain behind you. You rip your leg free, stepping away from the tub and failing to notice the stinging sensation or the blood trickling down your ankle as you climb into the tub, hoping it offers enough protection.

✯✯✯✯✯

Tim clenches his jaw when his third call to you goes unanswered. You promised to keep him updated after the anaphylaxis scare, but it’s been a couple hours since he left you in the hospital, and he hasn't heard a thing.

“Tim, just go,” Angela says, a knowing look on her face. “You won’t be able to focus until you know they’re okay. Unless you’re finally willing to tell me who brought a little sunshine to Timothy Bradford’s cloudy skies,” she taunts at the end.

Tim lets out a soft “hmm,” accepting her offer and gathering his things from the edge of her desk.

“She must be important,” Angela calls behind him, smirking to herself when he doesn’t correct her.

✯✯✯✯✯

Your breaths are loud and shaky even as you focus on controlling them. Several more clicks are heard from the nail gun, and you flinch each time, curling further into the bathtub. A loud screech draws your attention, a second nail dislodging the knob and the lock before the door opens.

You take your chance, hoping to surprise her as you jump toward her, knocking her to the floor and using both hands to point the nail gun away from you. She tries to roll out from under you, squeezing the trigger and firing a nail into the ceiling as she does. A small shower of drywall dust coats the room, but you keep your head down, entirely focused on keeping her at arm’s length.

“When it ends – when you end – I get him back!” she grunts, twisting in your grasp.

The sharper end of the paintbrush she had earlier is pushed into your side, and you gasp, loosening your grip on the nail gun. She raises it quickly as she tilts to the side, dumping you onto the floor and taking the upper hand. A nail is fired beside your head, momentarily deafening you as you flinch away from it.

You are unsure if she said him or Tim, but you think she means the same either way. Tim is the only thing you can think of that someone might want to take back from you.

“Isn’t that his choice?” you ask, pushing her hands away from you as she gets angrier.

She drops the paintbrush before using both hands to push the nail gun toward your forehead. You raise your legs, kicking her forward and over your head. As she topples, she squeezes the trigger multiple times. After the last firing sound, you open your eyes and notice a nail holding your shirt to the floor.

When you hear her groan behind you, you reach over until you feel the metal trash can beside your toilet, raising it over your head and dropping it aimlessly.

✯✯✯✯✯

Tim has dozens of questions he wants to ask, but as he races to your house, they slowly fade into two: are you safe, and how can he make you see that telling him everything will benefit you both? He knows he doesn’t always seem like the best listener and isn’t big on sharing, but he wants to know what is happening in your life, what you’re feeling, and what you’re dealing with. More than that, he wants to be at your side, helping you navigate a life with him.

✯✯✯✯✯

The door opens with a loud bang, causing you to flinch. You attempt to sit up before yelping in pain when something tugs your side. Someone is running through your house, and you’re torn between yelling for help or staying silent in case she wasn’t working alone.

Tim yells your name, and you sigh before answering, “In the bathroom.”

✯✯✯✯✯

When Tim turns into your driveway, blocking the sidewalk as he parks behind your car, he sees the oversized nail protruding from your tire. Walking past it, he knows that wasn’t accidental, nor was the slash below it.

Worried about you and racking his brain over who would do something like that to you, he sees the scene on your door and kicks it open before he even thinks to knock.

✯✯✯✯✯

Tim stops in the hallway, his eyes raking over the nails lining the door and the few stray ones in the wall across the hallway. It appears that most of the attack was aimed at the bathroom, but whatever happened escalated quickly.

Using his shoulder, he forcefully opens the door before entering the small bathroom. He steps over your unconscious assailant, lowering to his knee beside you. Looking over you, he lays a hand on the side of your neck, a warm and welcome comfort as he directs you to look at him.

You try to move closer to him, but he rushes to stop you.

“Don’t. Don’t move. The ambulance and more help are on the way, let’s just wait for them,” he says.

You nod, trusting him but unsure why he won’t let you move.

“Is she…” you ask, trailing off.

“She’s unconscious,” Tim answers concisely. “What’d you hit her with?”

“The trashcan,” you answer, a small smile appearing and making Tim shake his head.

“I should get one of those,” Tim jokes, leaning toward you.

Sirens grow louder as they get closer, and Tim sighs in relief.

“Are you okay?” he asks. “I can’t ask what happened yet, that’s for the next cop. But as your boyfriend, are you okay?”

“I am now,” you answer, raising your hand to lay over his on your jaw.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Do you know who she is?” the officer asks as the EMT sits beside you.

“No,” you answer. “I’ve been getting phone calls and messages for a few days, but I’ve never seen her before.”

“I have,” Tim interjects, shaking his head at you before supplying a name. “My ex.”

“Any idea as to why she attacked you?” the officer asks, glancing toward Tim.

“Sergeant Bradford, I presume. She said she’d kill me to get him back, but never said who him was,” you answer.

Tim nods, lowering his voice to explain something to the officer as the EMT asks questions about how you feel.

You sigh in relief as the paramedics carry Tim’s unconscious ex out, gripping Tim’s hand as he moves to your side again.

“This is going to hurt, I’m sorry,” the kind EMT says.

Tim moves his fingers, letting you squeeze him as much as you need.

“The nail caught some of your skin, but I’m going to try to go fast to minimize the pain.”

Understanding why it hurt to sit up before, you focus on Tim’s hand in yours rather than the hands on your torso, working to free you from the bathroom floor and stop the bleeding.

“All done,” the EMT announces. “You didn’t even flinch. We’ll get you to the hospital and let the doctors check everything.”

You sit up with Tim’s help, leaning against him as a temporary bandage is placed on your side. Looking around your destroyed bathroom, you move closer to Tim, grateful for him.

“Your ex is crazy,” you mumble against his shoulder.

Tim laughs, and it's a short but relieved noise accompanying his arm across your back, keeping you close and comforted.

“We’ll fix the bathroom later,” he promises.

You tilt your head and furrow your brows, prompting Tim to kiss the crease between them. “You’re not coming back here for a few days. Don’t give me that look.”

✯✯✯✯✯

Leaving the hospital, Tim lifts you from the wheelchair, staring at you when you grab his shoulders.

“I can walk, Tim,” you remind him.

He doesn’t listen or doesn’t care, taking the last few steps to the passenger seat and setting you down before buckling your seat belt, mindful of your bandaged side. He carries you into his house, grabbing some of your favorite snacks and drinks before sitting beside you and welcoming you into his arms. He’s quiet, but you’ve grown to understand Tim’s different silences better than most people’s words.

Right now, he’s relieved, but you’re sure he has a lot of questions, too. Getting him to ask them is the hard part.

“Have any other exes I should know about?” you ask after a few minutes.

“Hmm.” He raises his fingers as he nods and shakes his head, a playful ‘debate’ over who is worthy of being mentioned. Lowering his hands and giving you a sincere look, he says, “No, I don’t think so. And I’m sorry I didn’t mention her, I never expected she’d do something like this.”

You nod, though you never considered blaming him for something so completely out of his control. This is all on her, and she’ll have a chance to explain herself.

“Think I’d be a crazy ex?”

“You won’t be an ex at all,” Tim answers, tugging you closer against his chest.

Turning toward him, you trace your finger in small shapes over his chest.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Tim asks gently.

You shrug. “I didn’t know how. And it wasn’t that bad at first.”

“You have to tell me these things or I don’t know something is wrong, I can’t help.”

“But you get grumpy,” you reply with an exaggerated pout.

Tim proves you right, grumbling even as he kisses you. “I’m allowed to be grumpy when someone is hurting the woman I love.”

You sit up quickly, and Tim’s eyes widen, his hands raising to your side as he grows concerned that you hurt yourself.

“You love me?”

Tim shakes his head, rolling his eyes as he mutters, “Against my better judgment, yes.”

You giggle at his grumpiness, leaning back into his side. He pulls your legs across his lap, letting you curl completely into his side. Toying with the hem of his your borrowed sweatpants, Tim lets his mind wander before tracing a gentle finger around the bandage on your ankle.

“Tickles,” you argue when you yank your leg away from him.

Tim pulls your leg back down, pointing out, “I deserve a few tickles after the week you put me through.”

“I was poisoned, and you had a bad week?” you repeat.

“I knew you were lying, you lying liar that lies!”

You duck your head at the reminder of everything you kept from Tim over the last few days. The anniversary you were so excited about now seems tainted.

“Hey,” Tim whispers, drawing your attention. “I’m not mad at you. And whenever you’re ready to talk about it, I’m right here.”

“I don’t even know how she found out about the allergies,” you mumble.

“That’s probably my fault. I have notes and epi-pens everywhere, so if she was close enough to do this to you, she was close enough to find any of my stuff laying around.”

You shiver at the idea of her going through your things, but Tim’s hand rubs down your back and chases those thoughts away.

Taking his invitation, you start at the beginning and tell him about the notes, the phone calls, the bakery box, and how the little, seemingly harmless notes progressed so quickly. He grows grumpier with each word, so you determine you may need to make the ending a bit more interesting for him.

“And then my knight in shining armor showed up and saved the day,” you finish, kissing his cheek. “He’s just a grumpy teddy bear.”

Tim pulls you closer, glad to have your company again. “Tell me things and I’ll be even more of a teddy bear.”

You smile excitedly, so Tim clarifies, “Only for you.”

#tim bradford x reader #tim bradford x fem!reader #tim bradford fluff #tim bradford the rookie #tim bradford imagine #tim bradford #the rookie #requests #tw: violence #tw: injury #🐿 anon

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cottonlemonade · 9 months ago

Note

hii! may i please order a medium pineapple lemonade with extra ice for suna? your work is always so wonderful 🥹🌸

Accidental Confession

word count: 1317 || avg. reading time: 6 mins.

pairing: rival!Suna x chubby!Reader

genre: fluff with some suggestiveness, enemies to lovers

warnings: mdni

request: fluffy-spicy accidental confession with rival Suna

It all started with a meme. If Suna hadn’t taken that picture of you stretching during class and added a little Simba into your hands, you wouldn’t have photoshopped his face onto a mop.

To be fair, his was harmless. Yours was downright rude and so he fell in love immediately.

He followed you around - not as inconspicuously as he might have hoped - to sneak a photo in the most meme worthy moments, flooding his camera roll with dozens and eventually hundreds of snapshots of you. The whole front of a silly little meme war was a great excuse to mask his steadily growing crush and his friends didn’t think anything of it when Suna set a picture of you mid-sneeze as his lock screen. Granted, he himself was still very much in denial about his feelings as well, so it wasn’t that difficult to pretend that he wasn’t bothered when you talked to an upperclassman and laughed loudly at his, undoubtedly, mediocre joke - although Suna did sweep his pencil case off his desk in an attempt to wave Osamu off when he asked if he was okay.

The class groaned when the teacher announced that for the impending field trip they’d be split into teams of two via random lottery. Half the students got assigned a number while the other half drew a little piece of paper from a box held out to them to match with said number. Quiet cheers and not so quiet disappointment could be heard and the teacher called for silence.

Annoyed that he didn’t even get the minuscule chance to work with him, Suna leaned over to Osamu, “Who do you have?” His friend unfolded his paper and turned it over to read.

“5. That’s…”, he craned his neck to check and count, “Y/n, ya?”

“Switch with me.”, Suna said.

“Why? Who do ya have?”

“Don’t care. Come on.”

Osamu frowned and raised an almost disappointed brow.

“What happened to ya, dude? Ya know, yer bein’ real obvious at this point, right?”

Suna rejected the allegations, waited a moment, then simply exchanged his slip of paper with Osamu’s.

“Ya owe me.”, Osamu noted.

“Yeah yeah.”

Meanwhile, you seemed less thrilled about the match and when the bell rang you threw an annoyed look at Suna who gave you a blank stared wave and went to lunch with your friends. He was a very unfortunate long-term crush you had nursed since the beginning of the year and was as handsome as he was annoying. In spite of this, you had a great time complaining about your matched partners over your bentos while enjoying the mellowing summer sun under the shade of a tree.

When the next morning arrived, Suna made sure to be only two minutes late instead of his usual 15, so he could secure the spot next to you on the long drive to Kobe. The class would be headed to the big art museum in the city and as an assignment got a list of 15 art pieces they had to find, like a scavenger hunt. The first team to get a picture from each of their art works would get to choose where to go for lunch.

With a sigh you dropped in the seat next to him, frowning at his sleepy grin. When you only scoffed and looked away, his heart started pounding and he had no idea why. And this wasn‘t a “oh Suna, you‘re just in love, silly“ kinda pounding. No! This was more similar to that one time when he went out for coffee with his friends and instead of admitting that he wanted his favorite - a sickeningly sweet vanilla latte with extra syrup pumps - he ordered an iced Americano with a triple shot because he thought it sounded cool and for hours it had felt as if a tiny panicked bird was trapped in his chest. In short, he concluded, you were not good for his health.

“Alright.”, you said once you turned to him. You stood in the entrance together with the rest of the class, holding the reference paper in hand listing the artwork, “I’ll take the top 8, you take the bottom 7.”

He bit back a comment about how there was nothing “bottom” about him, but one look from you and he was quiet. That icy stare of disdain made him want to do the cooking and the cleaning and ask how your day had been while he finished up the ironing. “Let’s do this.”, he replied and nearly whimpered when you rolled your eyes at him.

With some quick online searching, the artwork was quickly found and the pictures taken. To keep up appearances he snapped a few pics in between of the NPCs in baroque paintings with increasingly weird facial expressions, fully intending to ask, “This you?” the next time he saw you. He could also airdrop them during class and looked forward to receiving a less than flattering emoji or thumbs down.

But now he had a different objective. Excited at the prospect of finally having an excuse to get your number, he jogged through the museum to your previously agreed upon meeting spot, finding you seated and waiting for him on a bench. You were scribbling on a notepad precariously balanced on your knees. He snuck up behind you, leaned in close to your ear and in a low calm voice went, “Boo.”

The yelp you let out had museum goers turn to you and a man with a lanyard, who was guiding a tour, threw an exasperated sigh in your direction.

“You better sleep with one eye open.”, you pressed out through gritted teeth, a deep red tint on your cheeks.

“Don’t threaten me with a good time.”, he said simply and in one smooth movement sat down next to you.

“So, how do you wanna do this?”, he then asked casually, waiting for you to say the words.

“Just airdrop them to me.”, you frowned.

“Oh.”

“What?”

“Nothing.” Luckily his deflated shoulders were masked by his chronically bad posture and he quickly selected the necessary pictures.

Your phone gave a little buzz and you accepted the stack. “That’s all. You’re excused. Go off and do… whatever it is you’re doing.”

“I can stay and help, you know? I skimmed some of the plackets.”

“What great work ethic.”, you deadpanned but moved your notepad closer to him so he could see.

With your other hand you swiped through the photos, double checking if you had everything.

He was too busy catching a whiff of your shampoo to notice you furrowing your brow.

“Uhm, Suna.”

You turned your phone screen to him and the blood drained from his face.

It was a picture of you - of course, what else could it have been. You were absently staring out the window in the classroom, your hair a little messy from a regular day of fending for your life in high school. Your chin rested on your palm and the sun shone beautifully against your face. He knew the picture well, because just last night when he couldn’t sleep, he edited it. Black and white hearts bordered the snapshot, a slightly blurry filter gave it a dreamlike feel. He gagged when he saw just how mushy he must have felt to add words around your head. Pookie. Baddie. Loml. My Bbg.

“What kind of prank is this?”, you asked, suspicion clinging to every syllable.

Suna thought.

Telling you that this picture was born out of post-nut hormones would only lead to a somewhat compromising confession that he fondled and humped his body pillow thinking of you, having no problem at all imagining your so very tempting love handles spilling between his fingers.

“Would you believe me if I told you my dog took my phone?“

You stared at him for a moment, then broke into giggles.

a/n: thank you so much for continuing to participate in my events! I’m so happy when someone comes back for more 🥺 I hope you enjoyed this one! 🌟

And once again thank you to @haikyu-mp4 for letting me surf her brain through the storm ✨

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totalswag · 1 year ago

Text

bar fun — DREW STARKEY

authors note thank you lovies for 700+ followers!! forever grateful for you guys and the support you give me. here's a little/not so little drew fic teheh.

summary going out in charleston with the cast after a long week of filming and enjoying your friday night with your friends.

requests open

warnings mentions of drinking, going to a bar, kissing, cussing, and drew being a sweet boyfriend.

"If you start to feel uncomfortable just let me know, baby" Drew whispered in your ear, placing his hand on your thigh and tapping it a few times as the car drew to a stop in front of the bar.

Turning back with a modest smile on your face, you say, "I will, don't worry," before kissing his cheek.

He smiles. Such a beautiful smile.

Drew's willingness to make you feel at ease is one of the many things you appreciate about him. No matter where you are, he wants you to be comfortable rather than uncomfortable.

After a hard week of filming season four of Outer Banks, the cast decided to spend the evening at one of their favorite bars in Charleston and unwind. You're not a member of the cast, but you tag along whenever there’s an outing.

Downtown was incredibly busy tonight, so the cast will be spotted by many. The plan was to keep close together in case something happened. Security informed Chase that they would have security inside to keep an eye on everyone.

"I can't wait to have a drink," Carlacia groans as she steps out of the SUV and fixes her hair.

"I feel you on that one," Maddie agrees.

Drew pushed you in front of him as he walked through the crowded bar, grabbing your waist with both hands. He made sure to keep you near to him since he didn't want you to leave his sight or be pushed back at random.

Second outing with my very well known boyfriend and I’ma shit my pants.

The moment you walked inside the bar, everyone turned their heads. This is nothing new. When fans greeted them or spoke with excitement, everyone smiled and waved in response which made fans even more excited.

Once you guys got your drinks, you guys started talking about various topics. The guys were in their own little group and girls were in theirs.

You and the girls were talking about going on a week-long girls' getaway this summer. Carlacia brought it up first a few days ago; she always has great ideas.

"I think it would be a lot of fun, and we'll be laying by the beach," Carlacia says, moving her hands in ocean wave motions that make the rest of the girls giggle.

After talking about the girls trip, Madison breaks the silence asking you about going out with Drew in public.

"So, Y/N, how does it feel being in your second outing with Drew?" Madison asked as she swirled her straw in her drink.

“Ooo good question,” Carlacia nudges Madison’s arm softly.

"It's still nerve-racking, but I think the more we go out as a couple, the less nervous I'll be," you explain to your friends, then look in Drew's way; he's chuckling at something JD said.

Drew and you have been together for three months, and the relationship is still fresh. He’s everything you ever dreamed of. The first time you went out as a couple was last month in Los Angeles, to one of your favorite cafes. This is your second outing together.

"I mean, that's completely understandable, Mariah and I were in the same boat when we first started dating," Madison says with a reassuring smile.

“Plus, you two make each other very happy and we all see it,” Maddie nudges in with complete honesty in her voice.

Hearing other people mention how Drew and you make each other happy undoubtedly makes your heart flutter with joy.

"Aw thank you, we always tell each other that we're each others person and the timing of us meeting was perfect" you continue to say.

After forty minutes, you've had two beers and are enjoying your time with your boyfriend and friends. Everyone was having a wonderful time. Fans came over and took pictures with the cast and a few of them took some with you too.

Conversations regarding filming were brought up, but the cast simply said what they were expected to say because Maddie had informed everyone before arriving at the bar that she would not be announcing the release date for season four.

We all know how that went the first time.

Drew's tall body stood behind you, one hand around your waist and the other holding a drink; your back rested on his chest, drink in hand. Every now and again, you'd sway to the music and chuckle.

“How are you feeling?” he asks you softly, only for you to hear.

You raise your free hand to his neck, bringing him down so you can whisper in his ear, "feeling quite great, you?" The sensation of his breath on your skin sent shivers down your spine.

"That makes me feel better, and if you're feeling great, I'm feeling great," he chuckles in your neck before giving you soft kisses, which caused you to giggle in response, so he kept doing it.

The feeling of phones in your direction, capturing the sweet moment between you and Drew.

As Drew pulls away, a bunch of fans appear in front of him, beaming with joy. Everyone then hugs the girls and asks how they are doing. They even requested to give you a hug, which surprised you because this never happens. It felt nice.

"Y/N right?" A fan asks with a smile, putting out her phone to take a picture with you. She wanted to make sure she got your name right, so she asked in this way.

"Yes, that is me. Would you like a picture? You inquire as you tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear. That’s the first thing you asked because typically fans come up asking for pictures.

She quickly nods, smiling, then pulls her phone out. You take a couple pictures together and start a conversation.

While having a great talk, you discovered that her mom and your aunt are really close friends. She was even more thrilled to hear about it. A few of her friends joined the chat, and they were all quite nice to you.

Drew appeared behind you, causing the girls to glance up in surprise that Drew Starkey was actually standing in front of them. Drew grinned, waved, and hugged them.

“How are you girls doing? Being safe I assume?” He asks with honesty, wanting to make sure they’re making good choices.

They answered with the same response.

"Oh get this, Taylor," you add, pointing to her so Drew understands who you're talking about, "mom is best friends with my aunt," chuckling with delight. Drew's jaw fell in surprise.

Eventually, the group of girls returned to their original spot, allowing you to enjoy the remainder of the night. They were really respectful throughout the entire process.

You spent the remainder of the night close to Drew's embrace, drinking more with friends before returning to your apartments for a nice night's sleep.

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sserpente · 7 months ago

Text

Bite Me (HAPPY HALLOWEEN! 🎃)

A/N: Happy Halloween everyone! I’m dressed as a kitten tonight because…well. ;) This year's Halloween Imagine simply had to go to Sylus.

Words: 2029 Warnings: semi-public smut, biting

“Pleeeeeease?” You drew the word out, putting on your best puppy face. Sylus was a hard one to convince. But if there was one opportunity to spend time with him in public, with your friends, it was Halloween.

Tara and Simone had invited you to a party on the 31st, a costume party you desperately wanted to go to with Sylus. It would be the perfect chance for him to dress up and remain undetected. Besides, the idea of dancing with him, grinding against him on the dance floor surrounded by strobe lights and fog…it was on occasion you both knew would lead to sex sooner or later.

“No, kitten. You go and have fun with your friends. I’m not the type to play dress up and get drunk on cheap party alcohol.”

But Sylus was a tough nut to crack. He really wasn’t the type for parties like that, you knew him well enough by now to know that. Still, you’d hoped he’d make an exception for you. After all, it was Halloween! The best time of the year!

The connection of the video call wavered for a moment.

“Sylus, pleeeease? You don’t have to do anything crazy. How about we just smear some fake blood all over you? Then you can say you’re dressed as a serial killer. That should do it!”

“A serial killer? That’s what you think would suit me?” He didn’t sound offended, instead he gave you a low chuckle. “Go to bed, kitten. I still have work to do and you will complain to me in the morning that I kept you awake.”

“Well, you are keeping me awake! Just say yes and I can go to sleep peacefully!”

“No. Good night, sweetie. Sweet dreams.”

He hung up before you could prepare a comeback. You growled. Damn it. But for what it was worth…at the very least, Sylus had just given you the perfect idea for your Halloween costume this year.

You were a little irritated when you got ready for the party the following evening. Applying your make-up meticulously, you eyed your outfit. A black bodysuit, a black skirt, black tights, high boots you normally wore for hunting, glued-on fake whiskers, and adorable cat ears made you absolutely certain that Sylus would have loved your costume of choice.

As you drew on a little button nose with your eyeliner, you debated whether you should send him a picture. But he didn’t deserve that, really, right? You could respect him not wanting to go to a party with you but you couldn’t help but feel bitter he’d turned you down regardless. He knew you loved Halloween!

You sighed, glancing down when a message from Tara popped up on your phone.

Are you ready, friend? We’re outside!

You nodded at your reflection. You were ready. With or without Sylus. Tara’s friend would drive you tonight so you could drink. And you were just on time too, arriving just before midnight.

The building where the party took place was decorated brilliantly. There were spiderwebs in the corners, garlands and pumpkin string lights lining the walls, and orange and purple strobe lights illuminating the dance floor. Fog wrapped around the ankles of the people dancing.

Pumpkins with spooky faces carved into them laughed at your face, and the selection of snacks and drinks was phenomenal. The bass of the music reverberated in your chest the more you mixed in with the crowd, with Tara holding your hand so she wouldn’t lose you.

You went with a Dracula shot for your first drink—vodka and cranberry juice—before hitting the dance floor. It’s just that someone was missing for this to be truly fun. God damn it.

You didn’t want to be one of those girls who couldn’t enjoy themselves without their boyfriend anymore. You could and you would. Still, it was alright to wish Sylus was here, right?

With a sigh, you nodded when Tara gestured she would get another drink and kept on spinning around on the dance floor—and rolled your eyes when a stranger placed his hands on your waist from behind.

“Go away! I have a boyf—” You flipped around only to be met with a very familiar figure. Your heart skipped a beat. Sylus.

“Sy-Sky! You…you’re here!”

“And you look absolutely ravishing. My kitten is a kitten. How adorable.”

Heat crept up your cheeks. Sylus didn’t exactly look bad either. A small trickle of blood decorated the right corner of his mouth, and his black shirt wasn’t buttoned up all the way. A pair of fake fangs completed the look when he flashed you a mischievous grin.

“You…you’re a vampire!”

“Let’s just say our conversation inspired me. Besides, I wasn’t keen on the idea of smearing fake blood all over myself.”

Oh, but I would have loved to roam my hands all over your bare chest, Sylus. You cleared your throat.

“But…you’re here! I thought you didn’t want to come…”

“I changed my mind. You seemed rather upset when I declined.”

You smiled. “I’m glad you’re here.”

Tara returned with your drinks before you could say anything else. You passed the one she handed you on to Sylus and leaned against him, careful not to smudge your makeup on his shirt and ruin it.

“Oh hello! Sky, right? Lovely to see you again! So you’re a vampire?” Tara began.

“And you. I am indeed. And you’re a…”

“A werewolf-zombie-witch!”

You chuckled. “Tara couldn’t decide which of the three she wanted to do so she combined all three of them.”

“I see. Very creative.”

“I’m sure you two want some alone time. Here, take my drink, I’ll meet you later!” She left with a wink before you could protest—not that you had any. You all but longed to throw yourself into Sylus’s arms. Which you immediately did as soon as she was out of sight.

“Kitten, you’re going to spill our drinks.” But instead of pushing you away, his arms wrapped around you even tighter.

“Let’s get rid of them then.” You downed your little cocktail way too fast for it to be healthy and put the plastic cup on a nearby snack table. Sylus took his time with his drink before doing the same though. You almost started tapping your foot impatiently—and you were certain he was doing this on purpose because the amused expression on his face spoke volumes.

God, he looked so handsome tonight. Your mind drifted back to that conversation you’d had with him, back when he’d taken you to this old castle and you’d slept in front of the fireplace. You’d told him he resembled a vampire…and right now, you wanted him to bite you so badly you could already feel yourself getting wet. Fuck.

“Dance with me!”

“Are you tipsy already?”

“That first shot was strong. And I had two glasses of wine prior to coming here so… probably yes.”

He shook his head, smirking.

“Now dance with me!”

“So demanding, kitten.” Sylus wrapped his arm around your waist and flung you around so your back was pressed against his chest. He moved you both to the rhythm of the music, his face buried in your neck.

“That’s a new perfume,” he muttered.

“Should the fact that you can tell concern me?”

“You tell me, kitten.”

You grinned and kept on dancing, your behind grinding against his crotch in the process. Again, and again and again…for what felt like an eternity, ignoring the rest of the crowd as if you two were the only one who existed.

“I can’t guarantee anything if you keep rubbing yourself against me like that, kitten,” he murmured with a start.

“Maybe that’s the plan,” you whispered back.

Sylus’s gaze darkened. Challenge accepted. He didn’t need to say it out loud. Still, you were unprepared for when he wrapped his hand around your wrist with a start and dragged you out of the main room into the hallway, crimson eyes darting around in an attempt to find...somewhere private, assumingly.

You laughed, the sound echoing through the building. Out here, the music was duller, the bass more bearable. Your eyes were ringing from the noise inside and you registered a little too late what was happening when Sylus tried for a broom closet and pulled you inside without any forewarning.

“That’s not very romantic!”

He huffed a laugh. “Romantic is for when we get home and I can make love to you in my bed. Be glad we’re gonna be here for a while longer or else I would have ripped those clothes off of you already. This…will have to suffice.”

With but one swift motion, he hooked his index fingers under your tights and pants and pulled them down to your knees before you lifting you up and against the wall, forcing your legs apart to accommodate his body.

You bit your lower lip, your pussy pulsing with need.

“S-Sylus,” you choked out, “c-condom?”

“Don’t worry your pretty little head, kitten. I have some with me.”

Your breathing was heavy by the time he nestled with his belt and eventually, freed his erection. You understood now why he’d been so eager to drag you off now. He was hard. He was struggling to roll the condom over his length while refusing to let you down. But as soon as he managed…you did not receive a forewarning before he buried himself inside you to the hilt, growling against your neck.

“F-fuck, Sylus!”

His hand came up to press against your mouth, keeping you from making a sound. “Quiet, kitten. We don’t want anyone to hear us, now do we?”

“T-the music is t-too loud a-anyway…” you said, muffled because of his palm.

Sylus chuckled, his lips ghosting over your neck as he thrust up into you, hitting your sweet spots with every single stroke.

But instead of giving you a hickey like he normally did (and then watching your reflection in the mirror afterward, smug and amused as you tried to cover it up with make-up when you had to get back to work)…he bit down on your neck. Hard.

Whatever fangs he was using, they held onto dear life as if he’d superglued them on. They were pointy, painful…but not painful enough to seriously cause you any distress. If anything… fuck, this was so hot…

You moaned, throwing your head back to give him better access. At this point, you didn’t even care if he drew blood. Would he drink it? If he broke the skin and a few droplets sneaked their way past his lips?

Sylus fucked you like the filthy girl you were being, teasing and riling him up like that, and much to your luck, it had worked. He knew. Of course he knew. This man was always in control, and you would be lying if you claimed you did not love it.

“Sylus…” You repeated his name over and over again against his mouth as if it were a prayer that would bring you salvation. It would. Oh, it would…for with every single thrust, you felt yourself creeping closer and closer to an annihilating abyss of pleasure. If you hadn’t been pressed up against the wall, legs wrapped around his hips, your knees would long have given in.

“I’m…I’m gonna come…” you whispered out of breath.

Sylus released your neck, the wound pulsing with a dull pain as he licked over it with relish and then released your mouth to capture your lips in a passionate kiss. His strokes grew more frantic, more eager. And it drove you straight over the edge.

You came with a grunt, moaning into his mouth. Pleasure rippled through you as you squeezed around his cock repeatedly, triggering his own release.

Sylus’s heavy breathing turned into a carnal groan as he came, his length jerking against your slick walls gripping him tightly. He slumped against you once he came down from his high, cradling you in his arms.

“Sylus…”

“Yes, kitten?”

“Take me home?” There was no way you were going to return to the dance floor. Not after this. Oh god…

He chuckled. “I was hoping you’d ask.”

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