#sorry this is so messy I saw what day it was and had to draw something. remember when the manga was good. I do

[remcadll]

Wow crazy how it’s been two months since mha ended. what the hell was that btw

[mako-island-moon-pool]

Why am I flipping tf out over my roommate going into my room when I wasn't home and leaving a package on my bed it's literally not a big deal and they were trying to be helpful but I am shaking right now I should be happy I got my new favorite shirt but I'm so angry

[number1mingyustan]

hihi !! I love your fics sm. <3

If you're taking requests can you do Mingyu as a biker bf? What if you wanna learn how to ride a bike and he says "you should practice on the biker first." OMFGGG IM CRAZY. Love you

boyfriend!mingyu x fem!reader

warnings: established relationship, cursing, kissing, explicit smut, oral (f+m), sixty-nine, unprotected sex, creampie, riding, light breast play, multiple orgasms

_______________________________________________

Mingyu nibbles on his bottom lip as his eyes remain fixated on the easel in front of him. He's concentrating, hand moving slowly as he drags the brush along the canvas.

You smile to yourself, feeling your heart warm at the sight of him.

Painting is not his thing.

Even with all the effort he seems to be putting into his painting, his lines are crooked and a little messy. He knows this too, he's never really been one for the arts.

Painting is one of your hobbies and always has been. You're more of the artistic type and Mingyu well... Mingyu likes his bikes. He's got more of a grunge sort of vibe that consists of leather jackets, obnoxious motorcycles, and cigarettes.

You were polar opposites. You preferred your quiet life in the arts, sundresses, walks in flower fields, and painting. You've noticed the way he's softened up since you two met, you're sure it's the effect you've had on him.

He sticks his tongue out, drawing his last two strokes before dropping the paintbrush into the cup. "Done."

You turn your head, completely facing him. You eyes scan over the painting in front of him and your smile grows. "Gyu you've gotten so good at this."

He grins at the praise. "Learned from the best."

The painting in front of him is simple, a landscape of a beach sunset. There's not nearly as much detail as the reference photo in front of you two, but it's undeniably solid work, especially for a beginner like your boyfriend.

He leans over, planting a kiss onto your cheek. His eyes can't help but drift to your painting as he does so.

"Oh wow," His jaw slacks open.

He admires your painting. Even though the two of you painted the same thing, yours is exponentially better. He loves how talented you are, and you never fail to impress him.

________________

When Mingyu comes home the next evening, he expects to see you. You're usually in the living room or the bedroom. He searches the house for you, checking every room to no avail.

He frowns. He saw your car parked out front, so he knows you're here.

A loud sound suddenly catches his attention. He makes his way toward the source of the sound, walking downstairs into the garage.

"Fuck!" You exclaim, racing to the aid of the bike.

You struggle to hold the heavy vehicle up as it remains tilted inside the garage. Your boyfriend saves the day, rushing to your side and helping you to lift the bike up to its proper stature.

"Sorry," You apologize quickly. "I swear I was being careful!"

Your words are muffled. He looks at you with confusion written over his face. You're wearing black leggings and a tight-fitting black zip up. It's unusual attire for you.

Not to mention his entirely large helmet is covering your head.

"What are you doing?" He asks, raising an eyebrow at you.

"I wanna learn how to ride it," You say.

"What?" He asks.

You pull the oversized helmet off of your head and place it under your arm. You huff out.

"I wanna learn how to ride it," You move your hair out of your face. "I was trying to surprise you."

"You hate bikes, babe," He lets out a breathy laugh, taking the helmet out of your hands.

"I've had a change of heart," You insist.

He raises an eyebrow. "Why so suddenly?"

"Well... I don't know. When we were painting it made me realize how much you've embraced my hobbies and stuff. I wanna embrace the stuff you like too," You explain. "So teach me.... please?"

Oh you're adorable, He thinks to himself.

"That's very sweet Y/n," He grins. "But it's okay."

You cross your arms over your body. "But.."

"If you really wanna get into my hobbies, we can find another one baby," He kisses your forehead. "But taking my bike is extremely dangerous and it's probably good that I caught you."

"I know," You say.

You lean against the bike, staring at the vehicle with a glint of sadness behind your eyes. You trace your fingers along the metal of the bike, admiring your boyfriend's precious vehicle.

He places the helmet down. "You know, if you wanna learn that bad, you should practice on the biker first."

It takes a second for his words to settle into your brain. You lean against the bike and raise an eyebrow. "Gyu?"

He walks closer to you, wrapping his arms around your waist. He pulls you in close. You can feel his breath fanning over your skin, causing goosebumps to raise. His lips press against the shell of your ear.

"Come upstairs," He whispers against your ear. "I'll teach you whatever you want to know."

You intertwine your fingers with his. He pulls your body back into the house and leads you upstairs.

"You're so cute," He smiles. He presses his lips to yours. "I love doing the things you love.... love you." He says between kisses.

He lifts you up and carries you into his bedroom. He places your body down on the bed and pulls off his shirt. His toned body is exposed, muscles bulging beneath his warm skin as he looks at you with hungry eyes.

His back meets the bed with a small thump and he pulls your body on top of him. Your hips meet his and he lets out a soft groan. You pull off your own shirt and drop it onto the ground. You grind against his hips slowly. He unzips your jacket and pulls it off your body.

His hand snakes around the back of your neck and he pulls you into a passionate kiss. He moans against your lips as you continue to grind against his hardening cock.

You can feel him growing beneath you. His cock swells in the confines of his jeans, causing you to moan as you grind down on his growing length. Heat rushes between your thighs and the aching need for pleasure grows in your body.

You pull away from the heated kiss and sit up. You pull your shirt over your head and Mingyu sits up too. He kisses up your stomach and continues to grind against you needily as you unhook your bra. You let it fall and his lips immediately travel to your breasts.

He holds you by your hips as his lips wrap around your nipple. He sucks on your skin, ensuring to give both your breasts the same amount of attention. Your skin burns at the feeling of his touch. Be it his lips on your chest or his hands on your waist, it ignites something in you.

But as much as you love it, you quickly grow impatient. You lift your hips and pull your underwear and leggings off in one go. You toss them and start undoing Mingyu's black jeans.

"C'mre," He says, pulling at your legs.

He lifts your legs and flips you over so he can taste you. He wraps your legs around his head and immediately starts sucking on your clit.

"Fuck.." You moan out.

Your grip on his jeans quickly grows weak as pleasure clouds your senses. You try to undo the buttons, but the feeling of his tongue on you is highly distracting.

He sucks on your clit, occasionally lapping his tongue through your folds. The pleasure builds in the pit of your stomach quickly. You're finding it difficult to do anything, squirming and grinding against his face.

He holds his hands on either side of your thighs, holding you in place as he devours you. He moans against you, nearly enjoying it almost as much as you are.

You finally get him undressed and return the favor. You take his hard cock in your hand, stroking his length and spreading the precum from his leaking tip.

He moans against you again, allowing his eyes to fall shut as relief washes over him. He keeps his focus on you, pushing two of his fingers into your soaked hole.

You take his cock into your mouth, moaning around his length as you feel his fingers fill you up. He sucks your clit and his digits pump into you, and the vibrations from his moaning quickly have you nearing the edge.

His cock repeatedly hits the back of your throat as you stroke his length, bobbing your head to make him feel equally as good as you do.

You find down against his face with little to no coordination. Your hips move desperately, chasing your incoming orgasm as your saliva coats the entire length of his cock.

He curls his fingers into you and pumps them at a faster pace. His face is coated with your arousal and he slurps it up gladly, wrapping his lips around your clit and circling his tongue around the sensitive bud.

You lift your head, crying out as your orgasm overwhelms you. You grind against his face and fingers as you cum, continuing to drip onto his face.

"Hah-shit," You moan out.

His cock still remains in the grip of your hand, leaking more precum as he tastes you on his tongue.

When you come down from your high, his hands are quickly on your body. He pulls your body flush against his, kissing you sloppily and needily.

He is so obsessed with you and everything about you. His hands wander along your skin, tracing over every inch of your body gently. He lays on his back, pulling you back on top of him without breaking the kiss.

You're the one to pull away, lifting your hips on his lap. He leans back, allowing you to take over.

You sink down onto his length, groaning at the stretch of his cock. He holds you by the hips, guiding you down on his cock. The warmth of your pussy envelopes him perfectly, dripping down his length as you accommodate his length.

"So good baby," He moans.

Your eyes are screwed shut as you sink down, only tightening as he fills you up bit by bit. You gasp out once your hips meet, feeling the entirety of his length inside of you.

"Fuck...holy fuck–" You grip the bedsheets.

You start moving your hips slowly, still getting used to the feeling of fullness. He's patient with you, guiding your hips with soft hands and gentle movements.

You start to pick up a steady rhythm, lifting your hips and sinking down onto his length. You roll your hips with each movement, allowing his cock to fill you up and reach deep into you.

It feels so fucking good.

He watches you with love and lust clouding his eyes. His gaze is locked in on you, admiring how beautiful you look right now. Your mouth hangs open as loud moans pass through your lips.

Your body is dripping with sweat and your tits are bouncing in his face every time you lift your hips and sink back down onto his length. The stretch of pussy is addictive, sending waves of pleasure through his cock and entire body.

He sits up, resting his hand on the small of your back. Your hands wrap around his back, nails digging into his skin as your chests press together.

He lifts his hips, matching your pace as he fucks himself into you. You cry out, lips pressed against his shoulder. The feeling is intense and addictive and incredibly intimate.

His cheeks are flushed red and sweat glistens down his face and abs. His hair falls perfectly on his face and you can't help but admire him. His mouth remains in a small 'O' shape, allowing small moans and grunts and groans of pleasure to ring in your ears.

"Fuck baby," He moans. "I'm close."

His head tilts back, exposing his adam's apple to your line of sight. He continues to thrust into you, cock pressing against the sweet spot deep inside of you with every movement of his hips.

"Hah-me too," You pant.

The pleasure continues to grow, eventually overwhelming your entire body. You cry out and your body falls limp against him. You bury your face in the crook of his neck, moaning and breathing heavily as you cum around his cock.

Your pussy throbs, tightening around his length and bringing about his own orgasm. His hips still and his cock swells as he fills you with his load.

He lets out a long groan as he pumps his load into you. Your chests rise and fall in unison as you breathe heavily and come down from your orgasms. You lift your head and cup his cheeks with your soft hands.

His vision clears and his eyes meet yours. He flashes you a grin. "Hi baby."

You return his expression with a shy smile. "Hi Gyu."

He presses his forehead against yours and plants a kiss on your lips. "I love you, pretty girl."

"Love you more," You grin.

"Impossible," He smiles.

His hands hold your hips as he lifts you up. You wince at the emptiness and and lays you down on the bed. He presses a kiss onto your bellybutton and stands to his feet.

He disappears into the bathroom and you hear the bathwater running. He comes back a few minutes later and picks you up bridal style. You wrap your arms around him happily and he carries you to the tub. He slips into the warm water behind you, leaving soft kisses on your shoulder and back.

"Baby," he says.

"Hmm?" You quirk up.

"We can take a ride tonight if you want, on the bike," He proposes. "Together."

You perk up. "Really?"

"Yeah, but you can't be scared," He grins.

"I'm not!"

He kisses your shoulder. "Okay baby, whatever you say. Just hold onto me tight and I won't let you fall and teach your a few things. Sound good?"

You tilts your head all the way back so your eyes meet his. You smile. "Okay. I love you Gyu."

"I love you too."

_______________________________________________

© number1mingyustan - Do not repost without permission.

[cece693]

Well Mannered Son (Norman Bates x M! Reader)

In my attempt to write beyond my go-to slashers, I thought Norman Bates would be a good change of pace. I love his character and (in my opinion) he's a good blend of nice guy and murderer.

Summary: The rain didn't stop, causing you to pull over and seek shelter at Bates Motel. The attendant was cute but raised a hell of a lot of red flags. But who said you were the most sane to begin with?

tags: reader isn't the most sane, ignores red flags, thinks Norman is cute, in a creepy sort of way, mother approves, good thing you're a man

The rain pounded against the windshield, so heavy that the wipers couldn’t keep up. You were driving aimlessly, like you often did when your mind got too noisy. Thoughts swirled in your head, dark and restless, pushing you further down the winding, empty roads. But tonight, the storm made things dangerous—even for you. Home was still an hour away, and with the weather getting worse, you knew you couldn’t make it.

That’s when you saw it—the flickering neon sign of Bates Motel. Its glow barely pierced the darkness, but it was enough. You didn’t hesitate to pull over, the car skidding slightly as you came to a stop in the small gravel lot. The place looked like it had seen better days—run down, forgotten—but that didn’t matter. It was shelter, and it was exactly what you needed right now.

Drawing your jacket over your head, you stepped out of the car and made a run for the office. The rain hit you hard, soaking through your jacket in seconds, but you ignored it. The small office was dimly lit, musty, and eerily quiet. You kicked the door shut behind you, pulling off your drenched jacket and shaking it out as you looked around.

“Hello?” you called out, glancing toward the empty reception desk. There wasn’t even a bell to signal your arrival. For a moment, you considered just going back to your car and sleeping there for the night. It wouldn’t be the first time. But before you could turn to leave, a man appeared from the back office, his face lighting up when he saw you.

“Hi, sorry about the wait. The rain didn’t let me hear a thing.” he explained quickly, a nervous smile playing on his lips as he walked toward the desk.

You stood still, your gaze fixed on him. He wasn’t conventionally attractive, not in a striking way, but there was something about him. He was awkward, almost too eager, but that awkwardness had its own charm. His hair was a little messy, like he’d spent too much time fussing with it, and his clothes were plain, almost old-fashioned. But it was his eyes that held your attention. They were bright, but shadowed by something deeper, something that told you this man had secrets.

“It’s no problem,” you finally said, offering a faint smile in return. “I was just hoping to get a room for the night. The storm’s too much to drive through.”

He nodded quickly, his hands fumbling to open the guest book. "Yes, but my mother and I like this weather. Peaceful. I’m Norman, by the way.” he added after a pause, giving you a look that seemed to weigh you against something in his mind.

“Nice to meet you, Norman.” you replied, signing your name in the book. "I'm M/N." You feigned to not notice the way Norman stared as your hand moved across the page, almost as if committing every stroke to memory.

“Room one’s available. It’s just next to the office.”

“Thanks.” you said, taking the key from his hand. Before you could leave, Norman hesitated, his eyes flickering briefly to the doorway behind him. “You know, if you’re hungry or anything, we’ve got dinner at the house. It’s just up the hill. My mother’s there.”

Mother. The word sent a curious ripple through you. You didn’t think much about your own mother, but there was something about how Norman said it that made you pause. It wasn’t the word itself, but the way he spoke of her, as if she was more than just his mother. She was everything to him.

Most people would find that unsettling. But not you. You found it adorable, actually. Endearing. That level of devotion, the way he seemed so close to her, like she was his best friend. How sweet was that?

“She’s your best friend, huh?” you asked with genuine interest.

Norman blinked, caught off guard by your lack of discomfort. “Yes… yes, she is. We do everything together. She’s really quite special.” His smile grew, this time more genuine, a little less awkward.

“Sounds nice,” you said simply. “Not many people understand family like that.”

Norman’s eyes widened just slightly. He was used to people reacting differently to him, but you weren’t like them. You didn’t pull away; you didn’t give him that look. Instead, you stepped closer, and for the first time in a long while, someone wasn’t treating him like a freak.

“Would you like to meet her?” he asked suddenly, almost eagerly.

Most people would’ve run right there, maybe politely declined or pretended to be tired. But you? You nodded without a second thought. "Sure. I’d love to. Just let me dry off a bit and leave my jacket in the room."

Norman’s eyes lit up with a mixture of surprise and excitement. "Oh! Yes, of course. Take your time. I’ll, um, let Mother know you’ll be joining us."

You gave him a small nod and headed out of the office, back into the rain for the brief jog to your room. The motel seemed even quieter now, the pounding of the rain on the roof the only sound cutting through the night. Inside your room, you hung up your soaking jacket and ran a towel through your hair, looking at yourself in the mirror.

There was a strange feeling in your chest—something like anticipation, maybe curiosity. You weren’t exactly sure what drew you to Norman. Most people would’ve found his oddness unsettling, but you found it comforting.

Maybe because you weren’t so innocent yourself.

The thought crossed your mind as you stared into your own reflection, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of your lips. You had your own darkness, your own secrets, skeletons in your closet that would send most people running. You liked the way Norman wasn’t trying to hide his oddness. Maybe that said more about you than him.

You headed back out into the storm, making your way up the hill to the old house. The path was slick with mud, and the house itself stood like a shadow looming over the motel. It felt timeless, stuck in a place that was half-memory, half-reality. But instead of dread, you felt an odd sense of calm.

Norman was waiting for you at the front door, his shy smile greeting you as he stepped aside to let you in. The house smelled faintly of old wood and something cooking—homey, in a way you hadn’t expected. You stepped inside, shaking off the rain from your hair.

“You’re just in time,” Norman said, leading you through the narrow hallway into the dining room. “I…um, I hope you don’t mind a simple meal. Mother likes to keep things traditional.”

“I don’t mind at all.” you said easily, glancing around. The dining room was dimly lit, the table set for two rather than three. Norman noticed your gaze. “Mother wasn't feeling well enough to come down tonight. But she’s watching from upstairs. She can see everything.”

For a moment, his words hung in the air. Most people might have felt a chill run down their spine, but you just smiled. “That’s okay. I hope she recovers quickly." Sitting at the table, you couldn't help but add “And I hope she enjoys the company. I wouldn’t want to disappoint her.”

Norman’s face brightened at that, his smile almost childlike in its innocence. “You're not. Mother already thinks you're very polite."

Dinner was served, simple but comforting—roast chicken, mashed potatoes, and green beans. You ate quietly at first, but the silence wasn’t uncomfortable. In fact, it felt like Norman was waiting for something, watching you closely for any sign of discomfort. You could feel his eyes on you, and you couldn’t help but test the boundaries a little.

"You’re a good cook," you said, breaking the quiet. “You must’ve learned that from your mother.”

Norman blushed, his gaze quickly flickering down to his plate. “Y-Yes. She taught me everything. She’s very particular about how things are done.”

“I can tell.” You leaned forward slightly, your voice soft but teasing. “It’s good to know you listen to her so well.”

The compliment seemed to catch him off guard. Norman’s face turned an even deeper shade of pink, and his hand fumbled with his fork. “Oh, I—I try. She always says that a man should be respectful, especially around good people like you.”

You raised an eyebrow, feeling a tug of amusement at his awkwardness. He was trying so hard to keep it together, but your presence was clearly making him flustered. You couldn’t resist pushing just a little more. “Well, I think you’re doing just fine.” your voice lowered slightly, “In fact, I think your mother would be proud of having raised such a well-mannered son."

As the night wore on, the conversation flowed easier. Norman grew more comfortable, though he still stammered and blushed when you pushed him with subtle flirtations. You found it charming, the way he tried so hard to maintain control, only to crumble with the slightest pressure.

Eventually, it was time to leave. You stood at the front door, Norman’s eyes lingering on you as he awkwardly fidgeted with his hands.

“I, um…I hope you sleep well tonight.” he said, voice soft.

You couldn’t resist one last push. Leaning in slightly, you smiled. “I’m sure I will, especially knowing you’re close by.”

Norman blinked, his face turning scarlet again, and for a moment, he looked like he might melt into the floor. Before he could stammer out a response, you took a step closer, leaning in and gently pressing a kiss to his lips. It was brief, just a soft brush, but enough to feel the warmth of his skin and the way his breath hitched in his throat.

When you pulled back, Norman looked utterly stunned, his eyes wide and his face a deep crimson. He opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out. “Goodnight, Norman.” you whispered, giving him one last smile before walking down the hill.

As you walked back to your room, you couldn’t help but grin at yourself. You knew you’d see him again tomorrow. And the next day, and the next day, and the next day...

[miley1442111]

slowly- a.hotchner

a/n: i imagined a fem reader but as per usual, imagine what you like :)

summary: aaron is there for you during your toughest time.

pairing: aaron hotchner x reader

warnings: angst, parental death, mentions of an affair, comfort / fluff at the end :)

You were infamous for refusing to take sick days. Everyone knew you practically worked till you were on the brink of death, and even then you’d still just work from home. So Aaron was extremely worried when he heard your message saying you were calling in sick for 4 days. After work, he swung by your house, wanting to check on you. You’d been ignoring his texts all day, not answering his calls, and you hadn’t texted anyone else. Aaron couldn’t help but let his mind wander. What if you were really hurt? What if an unSub had targeted you and forced you to leave a message? 

Truthfully, Aaron knew his worries were probably an over-exaggeration, but in both your line of work, it didn’t seem so outlandish. 

He knocked once, no answer. All the lights were off- not strange considering the time, and all curtains were pulled. That was strange. You always refused to close your bedroom window, so your blind was never closed. 

He knocked again, no answer.

He finally decided to just use the key you’d given him and walk inside. He was met with the sight of the TV on and… a man on the couch?

Aaron pulled his gun from his holster and slowly approached the man sleeping on the couch. Once he recognised him as one of your friends, Richard, he lowered his weapon and left the house, more confused than before. He looked down at him phone and almost did a double take when he saw your name. 

Sorry I haven’t replied, I’m fine please don’t worry about me. I’m just sick.

No smiley face. No message to pass onto Jack. None of the cute drawings you did. Nothing.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“So what is this then? Is it an affair?” Aaron asked David, a sigh following his sentence. David chuckled as Derek rolled his eyes. 

“That girl doesn’t even have time to entertain one man, let alone two. She’s sick, Aaron. Calm down,” Derek chuckled, leaning back in his seat. You’d been MIA for the past 2 days and Aaron was worried. 

“But why was Richard at her house?” That bugged him. Why hadn’t you called him? He was your boyfriend. He was meant to take care of you. Not Richard. 

“To take care of her. She probably didn’t want to pass it onto you and Jack. Hotch, you really have to stop freaking out, she’s a big girl, she’ll be fine,” Derek rationalised. Aaron wasn’t convinced.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

You heard your doorbell ring and you groaned. You got up from the couch you hadn’t left since you’d gotten home and opened it. There he stood, your Aaron. 

“Aaron? What are you doing here?” You questioned as he let himself in, walking into your kitchen. Your voice was hoarse from crying, but could be passed off as the flu.

“Do you know how worried I was?” He paced your kitchen. “I thought you were missing, I-I thought that you were-”

“Slow down,” you cut him off. “I’m sorry, I was just sick Aaron.”

“Why was Richard here?” He demanded and you looked down. 

“Fuck,” you mumbled. This gave Aaron a second to look at you and the house. It was messy, you were in comfortable clothes, the kitchen hadn’t been cleaned all week- that was unlike you. He noticed the 4 bouquets of flowers on the counter and squinted enough to see the notes. 

Sorry for your loss…

His heart stopped. You were hurting, and here he was demanding answers like a dictator. You’d lost someone. “Honey,” his voice broke into a softer tone and you looked up, tears in your eyes. “You could’ve told me.” 

He pulled you into his chest and you sobbed against him. He whispered words of love and comfort, then relocated you to the couch, sitting you on his lap to hold you properly. Thousands of questions swirled through his head but he allowed you to cry to him. He felt like an asshole. 

Your crying quietened down after a few minutes and you looked up at him. “I’m sorry,” you sniffled. “I-I didn’t want to worry you and I had to travel. M-my mom was so sick and she just… y’know. I know I should’ve told you-” He quietened you with a kiss.

“You don’t owe me an apology. I’m so sorry I wasn't there,” he whispered into your hair and tucked your head into his neck again. “I’m so sorry.”

“Thank you,” you whispered into his neck. The last 3 days had been hell. Getting the call, getting on a plane, helping your siblings with the funeral prep, attending the funeral, last minute having to read the eulogy, getting back on a plane, getting home. All you had wanted to do was be with Aaron. “I love you so much.”

“I love you so much honey. I’m so sorry.”

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next weekend was spent at Aaron’s house with him and Jack. Jack had made you a card that said ‘get better soon’ and you practically cried when you read it. He was such a kind boy. The weekend was full of movies and watching Jack’s soccer blitz on Sunday. It still hurt, but you were beginning to heal. Slowly. 

[squiddy-god]

overstim shigaraki

This is lowkey an older fic/hc set and I hate it now but I'm still posting because I love shigaraki-

CW : smut, a fab reader, mean shigaraki, over stim

Shigy is a sadist what’s new, and while he gets sexual pleasure from pain being inflicted on him he knows you aren’t the same

So he saves if for the bedroom

Really really likes over stimulation, 100% gets off knowing that he’s fucking you into near painful orgasms and the tears in your eyes are almost enough to make him cum on the spot

This man has a corruption kink and it’s not even a question, this is a hill I’ll die on. Period 🥰💅

Eats you out and finger fucks you into a needy mess and he’s more then Willing to give you his cock and won’t stop giveing you his cock

Go’s absolutely feral and you clawing at his back only urges him on more because jokes on you he’s into that shit

Bite him, scratch him, make him bleed, he’ll cum on the spot but won’t stop

You : omg I’m sorry I clawed up your back 😔

Shiki :

Likes to think he’s corrupting you and causeing you to fall into depravity with him

Your his pure adorable little human and he’s going to fuck you until your just as dirty as him

Calls you his sinful little rabbit, letting a fallen angel mark you up

Has broken a bed and he’d do it again but you get mad at him

Because of the insedent above if he feels like he’s gonna snap and go feral he quickly moves you to the floor because he cant break that

I like to imagine he likes to flaunt his wings like a peacock so his wings are definitely out

By the end your going you to be screaming and sobbing, marked to hell and back, and unable to walk

Shiki is going to be clawed to hell and covered in bite marks and bruises from you griping onto him

Gets super soft after this because he knows aftercare is important and that it takes a lot out of you

Wraps his wings around around you like a cocoon and holds you in his arms for a while, then draws a bath because 1) your covers in cum 2) he’s coved in blood(or At least his back is)

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊☆.｡.:*　.｡.:*☆

You smiled and looked up to the baby blue sky, it was a beautiful day out and even better your boyfriend had asked you to come over to his house. You waited outside the school gates for shiki to be done with his council work so you could walk with him. It wasn’t long before you saw the familiar sight of his messy violet hair and striking bloody orange eyes, you waved his way and he came walking twords you. He smiled and planted a kiss on your nose before wrapping his arm around your shoulder and pulling you in close to him.

“How was you day y/n? ” He asked as you walked down the sidewalk. “It was pretty good! Lots of tests tho, that sucked” You said with an adorable pout, “what about you shiki?” “Oh my day was good, I pissed of mage and he hit me in the gut” A twisted smile pulled at his lips as his cheeks flushed cherry pink at the thought. His body shuddered against yours and his eyes held a dark glint. You shook your head at his antics “so you had a good day antagonizeing the other council members?” He nodded snaping out of his episode.

You finally reached his house and walked through the large gates and up to his front door, he opened his door and walked in behind you. You walked in and looked around, his house was nice and it always amazed you when you walked in. So many old paintings on the walls, of angels and clouds, demons and brimstone set ablaze with sins and lemantation. Bright burning eyes watched your figure like a hawk circling it’s pray, such a pure little bunny you were, such a cute little thing so close in his grasp and so tempting. He’d make you fall just as he once did. He’d drag you down into depravity as he tainted whatever purity he hadn’t already taken from you.

He was determined to paint your soul with sin and make your body a canvas for his love and sinful desires. Two pairs of ebony wings ripped through the blue fabric of his school jacket, soft black features scattered fluttering gently to the ground before long legs carried him to were you stood, willowy arms snakeing around you and traping you against his chest. Eyes half lidded and grin warped in a devious smirk, his hands trailed down to grip your waste and pull you flush against him. His breath was hot against the shell of your ears, his voice was shakey and dark, dripping with lustful excitement as he spoke, whispering into your ear. “Y/n~ let me have you, I’ll break you so beautifully, again and again~” He shuddered at the thought. Your face was stained with a lovely red and you swallowed the lump in your throat, nodding you head ‘yes’. He grin got wider as his fingers taped in gentle trails down your thighs before shoveling up the lacy white ruffles of your underskirt. His hands groped and squeezed your thights and brought you flush against him as he ground his erection against your ass. A shuddered groan sounded around the room as his head buried into your hair Inhailing deeply.

Black feathered wings closed out the light of the large windows, sweraling darkness clouded your vision and your body felt light and weigh less.

Light floded your vision and your body once again felt weighted and shikis wings left your vision to sit comfortably behind him. He spun you around and pressed his lips to yours, his tounge invaded your mouth as he took heavy steps backwards until you fell onto the bed. Breaking the kiss he looked into your (e/c) stained glass eyes. So bright and pure, such a lovely contrast to the dark glint of his orange eyes shrouded in sin. He striped off the deep maroon blazer before nimble fingers pryed open the buttons of your blouse. His eyes drank in the sight before him, your lovely (s/t) flesh a perfect canvas for the marks he would leave, your lacy (f/c) bra that sat so perfectly on your breast. Your face was so red as he ripped off his own Navy blue blazer and white dress shirt, it lay there now ripped and discarded on the floor leaving his slender but toned chest exposed. You undid your skirt and slid it down your legs, kicking it off you sat almost completely exposed to his hungry eyes.

He moved you to the center of the bed before crawling over to you and admireing the way your (h/c) hair spread against the cushiony pillows. His hands reached around and uncliped your bra tossing it to join your other discarded clothing. Next he moved to strip off your panties. His fingers toyed with your clit rubing circles and rolling the sensitive bud between his fingers. Your moans were music to his ears and his twisted grin only grew as two slim fingers slipped past your folds and caressed your walls, twisting and wiggling inside you as his thumb rubbed your clit. His other hand groped your chest as his mouth latched onto your neck sucking and Nipping at your skin leaveing dark bruises in his wake as he traveled across your soft skin and down the valley of your breasts marking them with bite marks and hickys.

Your body felt as though it was on fire as shiki continued to toy with you, your hands tangled in his hair and tugged at it roughly. He groaned and his fingers burried deeper into you causeing you to moan out, he slipped in another finger causeing you to stretch so deliciously around his digets. You unconsciously clenched down as his fingers curled inside of you, your legs shuddered as you came but his fingers didn’t stop even after he had fucked you over the edge with them. He applied more pressure as he rubbed your clit and traced shapes along the walls of your dripping cunt. He moved down and removed his fingers but before you had a chance to complain they were replaced with his tounge. His tounge darted in and out of you before sweraling around your sensitive bundle of nervers. You shuddered and shaked as another orgasm crashed over you.

Wasteing no time he stripped himself of his pants and boxers, tossing them aside before teasing your folds with his cock. You wined a little and looked at him with pleading eyes as his perverted smile only got wider. “Such a sinful little rabbit~ so willing so be defiled by the likes of a fallen angel” As he uttered those words he sunk into you, your walls stretching around him so tightly. He groaned pushing into you all the way before pulling back and snaping his hips back twords you. His mouth once again started to suck and bite at your neck as your arms wrapped around his torso underneath his wings, your nails raked down the space between his shoulder blades and wings down to his lower back leaveing angry red marks along his pale skin.

He groaned at the pain spuring him on to pound into you faster. You were moaning his name as his cock dragged against your velvet walls hitting your spongy g-spot when his hips met flush against yours, his hand came down to toy with your puffy clit makeing your legs shake. You were on fire as the coil in your stomach tightened. You cried out as your pussy clamped around him and your legs shaked while he fucked you through your orgasm. He groaned at the feeling of your nails digging into his skin and you creaming around his his cock.

Without stopping he continued with his relentless pace, your legs wouldn’t stop trembling as tears pricked your eyes, the space between your legs burned and tingled as shiki continued. His hips only stuttering when he neared his own release before continuing his pace and makeing a mess of your cunt.

He cold tell he was loseing himself to you, your pretty face so twisted in the pleasure he brought you and so stained with tears as he made you cum around him over and over. He stopped suddenly and you thought you were getting a break, oh so foolish. He was going to break you. He scooped you up, dick still throbbing inside of you, he layed you down on the floor and pulled out of you. You were confused as to why he had layed you on the floor when he suddenly pushed up your legs so your knees met your chest before quickly slamming into you. He hit even deeper inside you and you cried out as your mide whent blank of all thoughts other then his cock filling you up to the brim.

His orange eyes we’re wide and crazed, shrouded in a feral kind of lust, mouth open and spewing moans as the sound of skin meeting skin floated in the air alongside your moans and crys. Your pussy ached and clenched around his member and he moaned at the added friction. You had bitten into his shoulder so stop your strangled moans but it was in vain as your choked sobs mixed with the moans that spilled from your mouth. Lewd sloping played like a symphony as shiki thrusted in and out of your over stuffed pussy.

Finally his hips stuttered again but this time he pushed inside you and stayed and he once again spilt his seed inside you. Leeking out as he pulled out of you, cock stained white with his own cum as he once again moved you to the bed. He layed you down and wrapped his arms around you holding your trembling body against his, large black wings draped over you, covering your body in a blanket of soft feathers as it lay limp ontop of you. Gentle lips kissed away the trail of tears and those that brimed your glossy (e/c) eyes. He sighed and took a deep Inhail of your sent mixed with his.

You were trembling like a Leaf in his arms, your legs no doubt almost numb yet still aching and painted white. He rubbed gentle circles on your body and whispered sweat nothings into your ear. “I’ll go start a bath so we can wash off my lovely little rabbit” His wings desipered, only leaveing scattered black feathers as proof of there excitance, his arms uncoiled for your body. You didn’t have the energy to protest as you lay exhausted, limp, and trembling. Kissing your head softly he stood up and walked to the bathroom that was connected to his room.

Blood orange eyes looked back at your form with a soft fondness. He had fallen for you and you had fallen for him, he would choose to fall from the heavens for you and he knew that you would fall together.

[kiss-me-cill-me]

i’m not sure if anon has already requested a character for that song but if ur up for it CAN WE HAVE THAT SONG WITH JONATHAN CRANE. also i just listened to that song for the first time in like 3 years and got major deja vu lmao 😭

also ps i love u and ur writing !!!

This is related to another ask from an anon, requesting a fic based off of Katy Perry's song, The One That Got Away. I am so sorry to both of you that it's taken me forever to write this, but thank you for your patience and support <3

Now We Pay The Price | Pt. 1

Pairing: Jonathan Crane x Reader

Word Count: 2.8k

Summary: Life hasn't turned out exactly the way you wanted it to. Isolated and distraught as you watch time slip by while you sit, trapped in Arkham, your only wish is to recapture the way that things used to be.

Warnings: Angst, whump, sexual themes but no explicit smut, mental health themes, obsession, unhealthy relationship dynamics, mention of needles, mention of sedatives, unrequited love, established past romantic relationship, ambiguity

A/N: I hardly ever write angst, so please be gentle with me lol. But with the song inspo, I couldn't help but go in that direction. Slightly nervous to post this, but also happy that I've branched out from my comfort zone a bit!

***Please read the warnings before continuing. Minors DNI***

Lying on your stomach, feet in the air, you stretched the thin cotton sheets with your hand. Just enough to give them the tension you needed to glide a ballpoint pen over the fabric, scratching over and over the same mark to make it appear complete. This was far from the perfect medium for doodling - but sheets were what you had, and so they were what you used.

Even the pen was contraband. You knew you weren’t supposed to have it. What anyone thought you’d do with it… honestly, you had no idea. As if you could use a pen for anything other than what you were wrapped up in doing now - carefully and determinedly drawing hearts.

You stopped to rest your head for a moment on the pitifully thin pillow. Across the room, blank white concrete stared back at you. Day in, day out. Endless. The same room with the same walls.

Picking up the pen again, you placed the tip right in between the lobes of one of the many hearts. Scratch, scratch, scratch. A messy, zig-zagging line bisected the doodle. 

Broken.

You sighed, and started to color a different heart, filling it with blue ink that didn’t seem very inclined to stick to the bed sheets. It was slow going. The deep azure tint reminded you of deoxygenated blood, like you would see in a textbook diagram. Once the heart was completely filled, you moved dutifully on to the next.

A rustling at your door made you jump. Quickly, you stuffed the pen under your pillow, and turned up the sheets to hide your drawings. It wouldn’t be very good for you if anybody saw them.

You sat up, arranging your rumpled jumpsuit as neatly as you could. Leather straps hung off the sides of your bed, and you spared them a glance, bristling at the memories of having them lashed over your body. 

The metal door slid open slowly, until you could finally see…

Him. Your heart skipped a beat and a half as he stepped stiffly into the room, pulling the door shut behind him. He didn’t make a show of locking it, but it was still all too hard to miss the way his hand stopped short at the keyhole, before slipping into his pocket.

“Jonathan. I’m so glad-”

“Don’t call me that,” he bristled. “In here, we don’t know each other. Please. You always forget that.”

“...Dr. Crane,” you corrected yourself. 

His tone was so bitter that you could feel it in the very back of your throat, trying to claw its way down to your heart. You swallowed, trying to bite back the taste.

“I’m sorry. I was just happy to see you.” You smiled, pushing through your discomfort, for his sake.

Crane was clearly agitated. He took a few steps into the room, before turning around and facing the door. For one brief moment, you couldn’t see his face, until finally he turned back. His eyes were ice as they stared down at you.

“Do you have any idea how difficult you’ve been making things for me?” he spat. 

The accusation hurt, of course. Though you knew very well what he meant. You had been acting out, more than usual, as of late. And although it wasn’t without a purpose, you could see that it was wearing him thin. But… how else were you supposed to see each other? 

Arkham Asylum wasn’t exactly known for its model patients. It took a lot to get Dr. Crane’s attention.

“If we spent more time together, I wouldn’t be so difficult,” you replied, trying to keep your tone even.

Crane pinched the bridge of his nose, in that way that you were well acquainted with. He’d always had that habit. Back when you’d first met, you had loved making him get frustrated - just enough for a laugh. Some things never changed.

“You’re really backing me into a corner,” Crane sighed. “And I really wish you wouldn’t.”

“Let’s talk,” you offered, patting the bed. “That’s what you’re here for, right?”

Crane, reluctantly, sat down. You could sense his exhaustion in the way that he almost collapsed onto the bed, hands gripping the edge for support. You inched a bit closer, enough so that your knees touched briefly. Crane pulled away.

You wanted to reach out; put a hand on his shoulder, just like you’d done so many times before. He used to like it when you touched him. Sometimes, you liked to think that yours was the only gentle embrace that he had ever known. Maybe it was silly, but the thought of it always made you feel better.

Now, Crane’s eyes held nothing but menace as he glared over at you, as if you were a stain on the bed sheets. You wondered, vaguely, what had happened to change things.

So much. So much that had led you to this place, where you could be so close to him and yet felt more separated than ever.

“I hate to say it, Doc, but I think I’m going crazy in here,” you joked, trying to lighten the mood.

He barely had a reaction; a deep sigh the only hint that he’d heard what you said at all.

“And why do you think that is?” he asked, finally. 

The psychiatrist in him always came through to shove even more distance between you. Like a shield, put up just when you’d started to press through the fog of tension that hung heavy in the room. You swallowed your frustration at being kept out, and tried to answer him honestly.

“Because I barely get to see you,” you replied.

That was the wrong answer, and Crane’s shoulders swung abruptly to face you. 

He was scary like this. Almost scary, anyway. If you didn’t know him better, the look in his eyes would have sent you cowering. 

But you did know him, so well, and you remembered with sudden clarity that he’d always been bothered by feeling inadequate. You felt awful; you hadn’t meant to imply that he wasn’t doing enough.

“I’m sorry,” you soothed, before he could say anything. “I know that you’re busy, but-”

“But you continue to make yourself into a problem,” he hissed. “You know the only reason you’re in here instead of rotting away over at Blackgate is because of me, right?”

You nodded, too shocked by embarrassment to speak.

“Then for my sake, why don’t you act like it?”

“I’m…” You paused for a moment, sharp tears welling up in your eyes. “I’m just… lost without you,” you whispered. “You know that. I always told you I would be.”

The first tear fell, and you tried to hide your face.

“Don’t cry,” Crane sighed.

You could hear the harsh tinge of annoyance in his voice, and wished that it was anything else. Even his pity would have been better than knowing that your feelings were now nothing but inconvenience. You choked on your own throat, trying to stifle a sob.

“Please don’t cry,” he mumbled, slightly softer this time.

But now that you’d started, you couldn’t make yourself stop. If anything, the tears were only coming faster, and you felt yourself start to shrink into your own chest. The little black pit that always seemed to sit there, now swiftly opening up to swallow you.

With a deep and lingering exhale, Crane pulled you close. Suddenly, you were back where you both had been, so many years ago: one person’s cheek pressed into the other’s shoulder. Tears soaking into fabric that seemed to be stained with sadness. You let out a half-laugh, half-sob, and nestled into the crook of his neck.

“Remember when I used to do this for you?”

Crane stiffened slightly beside you.

“Things have changed since then,” he muttered. 

Your memory suddenly flashed back to the first time he had used the words “dysfunctional attachment” to describe you. That had hurt worse than anything else. Even more than all of the other occasions to come, when you’d heard those same words and worse fall from his lips. They could never truly compare to that first time, when your whole world had come crashing abruptly to the ground.

His arm dropped away from you, but you kept your face pressed into his shoulder.

“Things haven’t really changed,” you said. “I still belong to you.”

“You don’t.”

Two words that stung worse than hundreds of needles. You tried to pretend that the wind hadn’t been knocked out of you, as you replied.

“I do. And I will. Always.”

You looked up at him with wet eyes, a trace of the old life that you’d shared together still evident deep within your pupils. Even if only the memories of it lived inside of you, they still lived. They were still something.

“You need to move on,” Crane said flatly. “I know it’s not easy in here, with me…” He sighed. “I did what I could to protect you, but maybe it would have been better if I had just stayed out of your case. Blackgate would have at least given you distance.”

“I don’t want distance,” you whispered. “I just want to be with you.”

“You can’t be.”

Always so stubborn.

“I could be, if you’d help me get out.”

Confusion flashed across Crane’s face, quickly replaced with raw terror. 

“Escape Arkham?” His eyebrows furrowed, nearly knitting together. “You can’t be serious. Do you even realize what-?”

“I know, I know,” you hummed. “But just think - we could run away together, just like we always talked about.”

“Stop.”

“Don’t you remember? We promised-”

“Things. Change.” Crane’s voice almost shook as it thundered.

You brought a hand up to his face, gently coaxing until he looked at you.

“But they don’t have to,” you breathed. 

Your eyes drifted down to your wrist, to the space just below your thumb, and over the little tattoo that was etched into your skin. A heart - just like the ones littering your blanket, hidden carefully from Crane’s view.

“Remember when you gave me this?” you asked, holding up the tattoo in front of him.

“No; I remember you doing that to yourself.”

“At first, sure,” you chuckled. “But then, you helped me to finish it, ‘cause-”

“Because I didn’t want you to hurt yourself,” Crane muttered. “Just like you always seem to. Even now.”

You ignored his remark as your hands drifted down to collect one of his pale wrists, then lifted up to your face. The sleeve of his suit jacket slipped back, revealing the spot where once, long ago, you had given him the same mark. Just with a felt-tip pen; he would have never allowed you, even back then, to deface his own body in the same way you had yours. 

At the time, the impermanence of it hadn’t seemed to matter. You’d been too distracted; elated by the way that his and your matching blossoms of ink had pressed up against each other as you’d held hands. 

Now, you pressed a kiss to the blank space.

“Us against the world, Jonathan. Remember?”

Suddenly, his fingers pressed into your face, digging into the sides of your chin as he forced you back into focus.

“Don’t call me that,” he warned, once again. “How many times do I have to tell you? That life doesn’t exist in here.”

Your hands still dangled from his wrist as he continued to crush your jaw, not letting you look away. But this was the one part of him that you didn’t want to face. The part that didn’t need you anymore.

“Jonathan. You know the reason I���m in here, don’t you?”

“Are you asking if I know about your case? All of the crimes you committed?” he huffed. “Because yes - I was very involved in the trial, and it was nearly impossible to keep everyone else in the dark about…”

Us was the word that he couldn’t bring himself to say.

“That’s not what I mean,” you said. “I mean, do you know why I did those things?”

“Stop - please don’t tell me this again.”

“I did them for you,” you cried, your emotions getting the better of you again. “I do everything for you. So don’t you dare pretend you don’t need me, when really the only fucking reason you’re not stuck in here with me is because I always-”

“Stop.”

Crane’s hands tore away to grab you by the shoulders, wrenching you back to reality. Somehow he always managed to do that. To pull you straight out of the riptide, just as it was about to sweep you away.

“I never asked you to do what you did,” he hissed, articulating each word between clenched teeth.

“But I did it anyway,” you spat. “Because you always get into trouble. Because I told you I’d be there for you, no matter what. And because I always keep promises.”

“I don’t need you to anymore.” Crane’s hands squeezed you uncomfortably. “I don’t - I didn’t need you to ruin your life for me.”

“My life isn’t ruined if it’s for you.”

“Jesus Christ…”

Crane’s hand came up to rake through his hair, but before he could pull away fully, you caught him. Fingers clenched tight to the front of his suit, you pulled back and forced him to fall with you. Your back hit the bed, and Crane scrambled to catch himself before his full weight could slam into you. His body perched just above yours, caging you in his arms.

“This. You must remember this.” 

Your words were a whisper, barely loud enough to pass from your lips to his ear, despite how close he was. Your legs frantically came up to tug at his waist, trying to force him closer.

“This was the only time I felt alive,” you continued. “When we were like this. You remember.”

How could he not? You could still live in that moment, if you tried hard enough. As if it had been only yesterday. Both of you nervous and fumbling, nearly falling off of the bed as he hovered over you and you clung to him. 

The way that your bodies had melted together, almost desperately, in a way that had made you feel certain that neither one of you would let go. Letting go then had meant something worse than death; it meant a life that dragged on without you and him together. 

The stale echoes of passion still rang in your ears as you looked up, silently begging for him to rekindle the spark that had been there.

Crane’s expression was all but impossible to read. His face half-hidden beneath bangs that fell into his eyes. The two-second pause was like a lifetime as you awaited his answer.

“Of course I remember.”

Your heart soared, flying recklessly up.

“But that doesn’t mean it’s the same now.”

Broken. Smashed hard against the cold floor of your cell.

“I don’t believe that,” you breathed. “I can’t. I-”

“You need to,” he interrupted. “Because it’s the truth.”

You stayed stock still on the mattress as Crane briskly pushed himself up, disentangling himself from your limbs. He exhaled as he tugged at his jacket, trying to make himself presentable. 

You weren’t sure how he could find the nerve, after ripping your whole world apart.

“I’m upping the dose on your sedatives,” he informed you, still not meeting your gaze. “But I would prefer if you could find it within yourself to behave so that I don’t have to. I don’t like to do this, but-”

“Appearances…” Your voice drifted through the room. “Have to be kept up.”

He had told you as much, probably dozens of times. Just like he’d told you the old life between you no longer mattered, or even existed. If it ever had.

“I’m glad you understand,” he said shortly. 

His back was already turned, but you looked up to watch him drift out of the room, quickly pocketing the keys on his way out. 

Your head fell back, hard, but the sensation did nothing to ground you. You felt all too lost and adrift; trapped in a situation you had created. This wasn’t how things were supposed to end up.

Your hand drifted silently under the pillow, and wrapped around the barrel of the pen that was still hidden there. 

Suddenly, grotesque understanding of all the reasons why no one would want you to have such a thing flooded into your consciousness. The possibilities were many and bleak, but they all led back to the same conclusion. It was just like you had told Crane earlier.

If your life together didn’t exist in this place, then the only solution was to leave. 

You smiled. With resolve swirling dangerously inside your veins, you vowed to make sure that nothing like this ever happened again. You were going to be together, no matter what. 

There would be no getting away.

This fic now has a Part 2! Read it HERE

[guywithn0name]

-Alphabet headcanons-

;Miles Morales

Miles Morales x any gender reader

🎸 | Masterlist | 🎸

This post’s style is edited to my current one lol

Warnings: none

-‘A’ is for AFFECTION (how affectionate are they?)

Miles is a pretty affectionate guy, even if he doesn’t show it as much through physical affection. He expresses his affection through quality time and words of affirmation, he also makes drawings for you as a way to show how much he cares for you.

-‘B’ is for BESTFRIEND (what are they like as a bestfriend?)

Miles is definitely someone who sends a lot of TikTok’s or some random memes he finds funny. If you two have the same clothing size, he’ll borrow some of your clothes from time to time. He also likes to hang out often in either silence or you two talking nonstop about something random together. Y’all definitely have game nights together.

-‘C’ is for CUDDLES (how and do they like to cuddle?)

He likes to cuddle when you two are alone, but he won’t outright beg for it. He doesn’t need cuddles, but he likes them. Miles can be the little spoon or big spoon, he won’t care. Just as long as you to spend time together.

-‘D’ is for DOMESTIC (if they settle down, how will they help?)

Miles’ a messy boy, have you seen his room? He’d throw his clothes all over but he can definitely cook well. Rio is a fantastic cook and Miles definitely got his great cooking skill from her. Miles will clean the house with you if a special event like a birthday or Christmas happens (if you celebrate Christmas).

-‘E’ is for ENDING (how would the break up go?)

Tears. A lot of tears. He’d definitely cry if you broke up with him, and even probably if he broke up with you. Miles would probably distance himself from y’all’s mutual friends if you have any. Miles would probably ends up drawing you in his sketchbooks in a way to cope with the breakup. Y’all would still probably be in good terms, but that depends on the breakup.

-‘F’ is for FIANCÉ (how do they feel about marriage)

He wants to get married, but in his 20’s. But if you don’t want to get married, he’ll respect that. But y’all would definitely get matching rings or promise rings. He’ll probably would wear his ring on a necklace so he wouldn’t loose it during his Spider-man fights and all.

-‘G’ is for GENTLE (how gentle are they?)

Miles is a literal angle, honestly. He’s always so sweet and nice to you. He loves that slow and sweet kind of love. He’s the type of guy who’ll bring you flowers when he’s sorry.

-‘H’ is for HUGS (do they like hugs?)

He really likes hugs. They’re not mandatory but Miles will absolutely love them if you two haven’t seen each other for some time. He also will hug you when you’re sad (only if you’re comfortable with it, of course). Miles also enjoys getting hugs when he’s upset.

-‘I’ is for I LOVE YOU (when do they say I love you for the first time?)

Miles probably said “I love you” in the first month of you two being together. He probably said it during a date you two had.

-‘J’ is for JEALOUSY (do they get easily jealous? And if they do, what will they do?)

Miles doesn’t get jealous easily, but when he does. He actually doesn’t express it very much. The only time he’ll get jealous is if someone touches you inappropriately or if you’re telling about some guy in a way that kinda sounds like you two are closer than friends.

-‘K’ is for KISSES (how often do they like to get or give kisses, and where?)

He loved giving and getting kisses. Miles’ definitely a guy who loved giving and receiving cheek kisses. He gives about 5 kisses a day, or around that number. But he gives a lot more kisses if it’s been a while since you two last saw each other.

-‘L’ is for LITTLE ONES (how are they with kids?)

Miles is definitely good with kids and they really like him too. Being spider-man also plays a part on this since he has to save people from all age groups, plus. He finds kids fun to be around.

-‘M’ is for MORNINGS (how are mornings with them?

Miles need like 10 extra minutes in the morning just to get up. He’s super groggy every morning. He takes forever to get out of bed. He’s also super cuddly in the mornings, just refusing to get up and get ready for the day. This man does not have a skin routine, I have no idea how his face is so clear, but he got nothing.

-‘N’ is for NIGHTS (how are nights with them?)

Just like in the mornings, no skin routine. He washes his face with water from time to time. He loves taking showers before going to sleep. If you two are sleeping in the same bed, he’ll have a hand on your stomach or something tiny like that. Definitely kisses you goodnight.

-‘O’ is for OPEN (how open are they about themselves?)

Miles was pretty awkward at first, but as you two spent time together. He warmed up to you. He told you about him being spider-man at the month and a half mark of your relationship.

-‘P’ is for PATIENCE (how patient are they with you?)

Miles is super patient with you. If you don’t feel comfortable with something he’ll understand. He will try to get you out of your comfort zone sometimes but not in a overly pushy way.

-‘Q’ is for QUIZZES (how much do they remember about you?)

He doesn’t have the perfect memory since he always has a lot of things going with being spider-man and all. He does try to remember as much as he can, Miles will even write some things about you in his sketchbook next to drawings of you.

-‘R’ is for REMEMBER (what’s their favourite moment in the relationship?)

Miles’ favourite moment in your relationship is either when you were patching him up after a fight against a villain while he was spider-man. Or when the two of you were dancing in the rain as music played.

-‘S’ is for SECURITY (how protective are they?)

He isn’t super protective, but if you’re in danger he’ll be there as soon as he can. He’ll always be there for you and he’s definitely ready to fight anyone rude or stupid for you when he’s spider-man (even as just Miles if the person being rude and dumb is extra)

-‘T’ is for TRY (how much effort are they putting into the relationship, dates and ect?)

He always tries to be a good boyfriend and be there, but his Spider-man work gets in the way from time to time. As for dates. He likes to have chill dates that are you two just cuddling while watching a movie or you in the subway spray painting together. As for more special events like Valentine’s Day and an anniversary, he’s gonna try to do something special for you.

-‘U’ is for UGLY (what’s a bad habit of theirs?)

He has a bad habit of showing up late, but normally it’s because of his Spider-man things. He also has a habit of biting his nails or the inside of his mouth/lips.

-‘V’ is for VANITY (how insecure are they?)

He isn’t super insecure but he’ll get kinda insecure if you two haven’t been able to spend time together or talked for a while. But appearance wise, he isn’t that insecure.

-‘W’ is for WHOLE (do they feel whole without you?)

If you two were separated for a while, he’d definitely miss you like hell. And if you die at any point. He would visit your grave at least once a week. So, he wouldn’t feel whole without you.

-‘X’ is for XTRA (extra headcanon about them)

Miles 100% has a sketchbook dedicated to you. It’s full of drawings of you in different poses, styles and backgrounds. I think he’d also have some light lighting scars on his body from his venom blast. (Especially on his arms). He definitely has spray painted your face somewhere where other people can’t find it, it also had spray paintings of other people who are important to him. Miles has definitely made a playlist that reminded him of you, and you also have a shared playlist.

-‘Y’ is for YUCK (what can they not stand?)

He can’t stand when someone has their shoes in bed. And he finds it super annoying when someone touches his collectables or sketchbooks.

-‘Z’ is for ZLEEP (how is to sleep with them?)

Miles’ a cuddle bug while sleeping, he doesn’t even know it. He also snores lightly in his sleep, it’s super quiet tho. He’ll wrap himself fully around you while sleeping. Sometimes Miles will even drool, it’s not a big amount tho.

[the-dixon-effect]

centre of the universe ✧.*

a/n: 4 months later i'm back, so sorry guys. i got a little caught up. been missing daryl most of all too. i'm feeling a little rusty and tired but here's a cute little thing ig!

requested by: @pandarooooo-blog find the request here :)

summary: having married Negan in order to rescue Daryl from the Sanctuary, you found yourself, 9 months later, raising a kid of your own. the baby being Negan's, you hadn't been particularly enthusiastic to embrace the situation.

words: 1.2k

era: season 8-9, post-saviours

Sitting around Rick and Michonne's dining table embraced by the warm glow of the sky late into summer - what felt like a fever dream at it's best. The past year had left you bruised, emotionally and physically, Hell, you hadn't caught break since the world went to shit. But today, the air was pregnant with sweetness and laughter as you bathed in the company of your family. You stood up from the table once the feast was presumed finished. Your daughter giggled softly, cradled in your arms - her innocence a trait that you only mirrored while everybody fought for her attention.

Rosita imitated her best baby-voice, babbling some nonsensical rhetoric about her being "the cutest" and the "sweetest", while Rick reminisced about the days back on the road with Judith years ago. Noticing this, you thanked him sincerely, "You built this Rick, for Judith, for her," you gestured down to the precious being in your arms. "For all of us." The atmosphere was silent despite the extent of nods and smiles in agreement - the only sound was the sweet laughter of your darling girl.

Daryl, who had been standing by your side, broke the silence "She looks jus' like her mama," he spoke proudly, as though there were a part of him somewhere that wished he was the father; a notion that only remained at the forefront of Daryl's mind when he saw your sweet figure.

"Right?" you agreed, pursuing Daryl's gaze aside from the rest of group. Daryl, as loyal as ever, had stuck by your side during the pregnancy and made sure you were never hungry, uncomfortable, God forbid you were ever unsafe inside the walls. For that you were grateful. He remained your 'best friend', though, and a part of you needed him to know that you wanted him in other ways.

Tears came streaming down your face faster than you could register the situation. Two weeks ago, you kneeled before Negan and the Saviours in the depths of the night. A week later, you were married to Negan, letting him use you to his will only to set Daryl free from the cage they had him locked in. And sure, if that wasn't traumatic enough, this morning you discovered you were pregnant. With Negan's kid.

You were scared, hurt, resentful, but most of all in shock. The overwhelming emotions contained you thoroughly inside your house, and you had not been seen by anyone all day. When a knock arose at your bedroom door, you sprang to your feet and swiftly wiped away the tears that painted your face an unforgiving shade of pink.

"Who is it?" you sobbed, trying to hide your quavering, pitiful tone beneath the question.

"'S jus' me," It was Daryl. You could tell from the husky, gravelly voice behind the door. He sounded concerned. Composing yourself, you took one last look around the messy room before slowly clutching the cold doorknob and twisting it open. His figure towered over you, not threatening - the kind you had been used to - but barricading you from any dangers that stood between him and the rest of the world.

Daryl stood before you, not knowing what to say or do, searching for some trace of an answer in the absent, glassy expanse of your eyes. Absent, there were indeed, for each moment your body stood inside the walls of Alexandria, your mind was back there, in that 'Sanctuary'.

Another wave of tears came down your face before your clouded mind could form a coherent expression.

"Hey, hey, I got ya'," he soothed, drawing your frame into a tight hug, sheltered from anyone's presence, even in your own mind Negan's shadow seemed to dissipate into the encompassing swell of his chest. At least Daryl's stature provided you some respite; it was healing, momentarily. That was until he pulled way, wishing to understand, perhaps, why you were so upset. "Come on, let's siddown'-"

"I'm pregnant, Daryl, I don't know- I don't know what to.." you sobbed, returning to the embrace in an attempt to suppress the rhythmic pound that lay waste to your mind. Daryl, in his own state of shock, could do nothing but hold you. In truth, you did not wish for him to do anything else. Slowly, he walked you to your bedside, his touch not once faltering. With strong arms now safely caging you into his figure, you lay your head on his shoulder. "I'm sorry, Daryl..." you sighed, closing your eyes in search for some calm.

"Hey, no. You don't ever gotta say sorry, not to me," he gravelled, in that sweet, low voice of his. As he spoke into the crown of your head, you felt his words reverberate somewhere deep inside, moreso than you heard them. He was so tender with you.

"I'm scared," you began. You were embarassed to appear in this manner in front of Daryl. You didn't want to speak. Though you thought you owed him some expression of how you were feeling. "I hate him so much, y'know. I know you know. I hate him, for what he did to you. And me. I just thought," you weeped uncontrollably into Daryl's shoulder, at the notion that Negan - that evil man - would never escape your world. Daryl tried to console you, lifting your head up inches away from his own, though, he too, was flooded with memories and resentment indistinguishable from your own.

"What if my baby turns out like him?" you asked, in rhetoric. Lord knows, what kind of answer you expected.

"Shh.. Dun' think like that," he drawled, laying a gentle kiss on your forehead. The two of you had never been this close before.

"Yer' kid is gonna be strong, and kind, and beautiful.." he trailed off, cursing him damn mouth for running away from his brain. "Just like their momma."

"Daryl?" you spoke, softly, painting a number of maternal images at the forefront of his mind.

"Yeah?" he replied. Not once did he avert his gaze from your tear-stricken face.

"Will you stay.. with me? I'm scared... I don't wanna do this alone,"

"Of course, darlin'." From that moment on, Daryl never left your side.

The warm Virginian sun dipped below the walls of your home in the distance, evening winds stirred, gently, hardly noticeable. You cradled your beautiful baby girl in your arms, your mind empty of all negative thoughts. Just for a little while, everything was perfect. It seemed almost strange, that you were now happier than ever in this post-apocalyptic world.

Daryl strolled up to the gazebo where you perched with your daughter. The setting sun lit up your face like you were the centre of the universe. The centre of his universe, perhaps. It was hypnotic, seeing you in this way, so loving and maternal, more beautiful than ever.

"Hey," you smiled, watching the archer approach cautiously. He was always like this - acting as though his mere presence was a disturbance. You thought quite the opposite. "You can sit down Daryl, you won't wake her," you said sweetly. He simply stood there, an arm leaning on the gazebo fence, smiling down at you. So you stared right back up at him, wondering if he would take you up on your offer.

"I love ya', Y/N,"

"I know. C'mere,"

[onceuponaoneshotfanfic]

I'm Setting Off, But Not Without My Muse

I'll Write Your Name Chapter 7

Roy Kent x Latina!Popstar!Reader

4.8k words

Warnings: Language, heavy kissing, pining

Keeley lounged on Roy’s couch, looking comfortable and familiar with crossed her legs and messy hair. She smiled when Roy handed her the soda he’d brought from the kitchen, throwing Roy back to all those lazy days they’d spent together on that couch, days of kisses and laughter and love. Days he missed.

“My sister should be here soon,” he murmured as he threw himself down on the couch beside Keeley. “Remind me what you and Phoebe are doing again?” He resisted the urge to grab her hand or press his palm to her thigh, the way he used to.

Ignoring or missing Roy’s pining, Keeley grinned and sipped her soda. “We’re going to a museum,” she explained slowly. “And we’re going to take turns closing our eyes and trying to draw the art we see. Whoever does the best wins, and loser pays for lunch.”

“Where the fuck did Phoebe get money from?” Roy snorted.

Keeley blinked at him, as if it was obvious. “You, you dolt. Girl’s a little millionaire with all your swearing.”

The sound of knocking at his door stopped Roy from retorting; not that he had a defense, to be fair. His wallet was constantly empty thanks to Pheobe. Maybe the knock at the door saved him from admitting Keeley was right, he thought to himself as he opened it.

Those familiar eyes sparkled at him. “Hey, Roy.” She stepped inside, looking comfortable in a simple sweater and jeans. The moment she saw Keeley on the couch, it was like a switch flipped. Her hand was on Roy’s hip, tugging him to herself so she could plant a lingering kiss to his cheek. “Missed you,” she hummed.

Roy froze. Even after all this time, all the kisses, he still had moments where her seemingly easy affection caught him off-guard, rendering him frozen like a statue. This was definitely one of those moments, with his ex-girlfriend on his couch watching with quirked eyebrows and amused eyes.

Just as suddenly, she stepped back and smacked her palm to her forehead. “Shit,” she chuckled awkwardly, her eyes focusing on Keeley again. “I’m so sorry. I forgot I don’t have to do that in front of you.” She adjusted Roy’s shirt where she’d grabbed him. “My bad, Kent.”

“Don’t stop on my account,” Keeley teased, shooting them a wink. “Kiss him all you want. I doubt he’d complain too much.”

“Keeley-” Roy started to growl, wondering if both women could spot his heavy blush and the way his fists clenched at his side.

But Keeley wasn’t focused on that. Instead, she patted the spot next to her, urging the popstar to sit beside her. “So, have you two planned your holiday yet? I know Lanie’s been on your ass about it.”

With a glance at Roy, the singer settled by Keeley, noticeably stiff compared to the former model. “Uh, Roy found some spot in this little lakeside town,” she said quietly. Roy wasn’t sure he’d ever heard her sound so timid. What the fuck had her so shy? “That’s why I’m here,” she added quickly, eyes on Keeley. “So we can finish planning everything.”

“That sounds lovely,” Keeley said in a soothing voice, almost as though she was trying to comfort the singer. “I think you and Roy-o are going to have a great time.” She shot Roy another wink. “Sounds very romantic.”

Roy cleared his throat. “I think it’ll be a great writing spot,” he said. “She can focus on the album, I’ll get some reading done.”

There was that smile, that small grin that made Roy soften. “I’m excited,” she admitted to Keeley, although her eyes were still on Roy. “If nothing else, it’s nice to get away before the tour begins. Because now, with this album, I’m not going to get to relax much before it starts. At least I’ll get to relax a little on this trip.”

“Or not relax,” Keeley hummed with a wink.

Roy didn’t know what he hated more: Keeley implying he’d be interested in anyone other than her, or feeling embarrassed in front of his fake girlfriend. Probably the latter, he realized when he saw the alarmed look that appeared on that pretty face. Now she was going to spend their little getaway worried that Roy was going to make some sort of move on her, he panicked with silent groan.

Fucking Keeley.

~

“Shit, sunshine, what’s in this one? Bricks?”

I rolled my eyes and grabbed the admittedly heavy backpack out of Roy’s hands. “Old notebooks,” I corrected. “I’ve gotta dig through these things to find some usable lyrics, remember?”

Roy’s little grunt was the only answer I got. He loaded my suitcase into his giant black car before taking back the backpack and tossing it inside. He squinted at my empty hands for a moment before gazing back at my house. “I made sure the place was pet-friendly, you know.”

“Okay,” I said slowly, cocking my head. “What, did Keeley make you rent a dog for our vacation? Make us look all domestic?”

“No,” he huffed, obviously fighting the growing curve in his mouth. “For Sydney. I figured you’d be bringing her along.”

My heart melted as I blinked at Roy. I knew he liked my cat- and she, amazingly enough, liked him in return- but I wouldn’t have expected him to include her in our plans. Most of my real boyfriends tolerated Syd well enough, choosing to mostly engage in mutual indifference. Roy, on the other hand, seemed to genuinely like having Sydney curled up in his lap during Scrabble games and was keen to feed her if he woke up before me.

Stupid thing better not get too attached, I thought bitterly as I mumbled something about going to pack Sydney’s things really quickly. He won’t be around forever.

As I gathered some cat food and toys and urged Sydney into her travel carrier, I wondered if I was worried about Sydney or myself. With Roy’s help, I packed the cat and her things into his car, reminding myself all the while that this was a business trip of sorts. We were going for publicity, I scolded myself as I buckled into the passenger seat. This was for work.

My reminders were interrupted when Roy turned on his car and my own voice suddenly filled the vehicle.

The tips of Roy’s ears were red as he quickly turned off the car stereo. “Phoebe,” he mumbled simply. “She always turns it up way too fucking loud.”

I fought the smile that was desperately trying to break through. “Sure, Kent,” I chuckled. “You weren’t blasting my song on your way to pick me up. You absolutely didn’t sing every word at the top of your lungs. Totally believe you.”

Damn, why did he have to wear bashfulness so well? “Fuck off, sunshine.”

Slouching in my seat and defeated by the smile on my face, I turned to him. “What is your favorite song by me? If you don’t mind me asking.”

His fingers tapped the steering wheel as he turned off my street, off on our little adventure. “D’you think I have a favorite?”

“Of course you do,” I scoffed. “I saw the way you sang Our Song. You’re a bigger fan than you let on, Kent.”

“Touche.” He bobbled his head as he stared straight ahead. “You’ve got some really good songs. Nothing New was phenomenal. I’ve listened to it a few times and it just leaves me fucking breathless.” A frown crossed his face. “But it might be Happiness,” he said quietly.

My eyes traced his profile. “Why that one?”

He sighed and tightened his grip on the steering wheel. “It’s mature,” he said slowly. “Accepting the end of this relationship, acknowledging the good and bad of it all, hoping for forgiveness that goes both ways.” He sighed. “I’ve got to admit, I used to think you were just… fluff. I mean, Pheebs always likes your sugary pop stuff, that’s what’s on the radio. But after Nothing New-” He shook his head. “I went and listened to some of your other things, and fuck, you’re a great songwriter.” He glanced at me out of the corner of his eyes. “And I liked the Gatsby references, sunshine.”

I tried to tell myself that my warm cheeks were the result of feeling humbled by kind praise, not feeling flustered because Roy was telling me he liked my song. “Thanks,” I murmured. I picked at the hem of my shirt. “It was kind of a hard song to write. Emotionally, I mean. But it felt really good once I’d finished recording it.”

“I bet,” was all he said.

The rest of the drive was calmly quiet. I rested my head against the window, watching the city fade away and become green, green, and more green. Roy didn’t say much, other than ask how Sydney and I were doing. After a while, I took out a notebook and began jotting down some words, words that just kind of flowered onto the page before I could even really comprehend what they were saying.

Roy eyed me curiously as I scribbled. “Lyrics?” he asked simply.

I nodded, scribbling down the last couple of words. “Just a few lines,” I admitted. “Who knows if it’ll become anything. But you never know, so I’ve gotta write everything down. Sometimes the silliest little lines can become something special.”

“Read it to me.”

I swallowed hard, staring at the words I’d jotted down. “It’s just a couple little scribbles-”

“Come on, sunshine.”

Unable to say no to his gentle tone, I cleared by throat and slowly read, “Wait for the signal and I’ll meet you after dark… show me the places where the others gave you scars… Now this is an open-shut case, I guess I should’ve known by the look on your face… Every bait-and-switch was a work of art.”

When I dared to look at Roy, he wore a large, infectious grin. “What the fuck,” he chuckled, smacking the steering wheel. “What kind of a mind d’you got in that pretty little head? You just came up with that right now? Out of fucking nowhere?” He let out a sharp breath. “Fucking amazing.”

His words were overwhelming, drawing a deep blush to my cheeks. He sounded so real, so genuine as he praised the couple of lines I’d jotted down. I decided to believe he really meant it. Friends could gush over each other like that- right?

I also decided to ignore him calling me pretty.

“Thanks, Kent,” I murmured, slouching into my seat. “Dunno what it’ll become but…”

“Well, whatever it is,” he said, “it’ll be fucking great.”

He knew he’d guessed right when he saw the smile on her face at the sight of the instrument. She turned to him, eyebrows raised and cat in hand.

~

It was a nice house. Bright and airy with a gorgeous view of a lake, a couple of cozy bedrooms, a sweet little kitchen, and, most importantly, an inviting sitting room with a piano. As soon as Roy saw a photo of the instrument online, he booked the house, figuring it would be a perfect spot for some songwriting.

“There’s a piano,” she said simply.

Roy nodded, warmth in his chest as he took in her pleased reaction. “Figured between that and your guitar, you’d be all set,” he explained. “Is it fine? The piano? I didn’t know what kind you like, or if this one’s any good.” He was blabbering now, suddenly anxious that he’d done just the wrong thing.

But she shook her head, letting Sydney go so she could approach the little bench. She sat and began plucking at the keys, creating a simple little melody that Roy felt like he knew. She glanced at him, the music never stopping. “You ever play?”

“No,” Roy scoffed. “Only thing I’ve ever played is football.” Not knowing what came over him, he strolled over and sat beside her, watching her fingers move with ease over the ivory. “Is this one of your songs?”

She nodded and opened her mouth, letting her sweet voice fill the house.

Roy nodded along. He’d heard this one before; it always sounded so childish when he heard it over the speakers, and half the time he skipped right over it, ignoring Phoebe’s complaints about ever skipping her songs. But maybe it was hearing the authoress in person, or maybe it was how down-to-earth it sounded like this, or maybe it was the way the setting sun was hitting her pretty face, whatever it was, Roy thought the song sounded nothing short of charming.

School bell rings, walk me home

Sidewalk chalk covered in snow

Lost my gloves, you give me one

"Wanna hang out?"

Yeah, sounds like fun

Video games, you pass me a note

Sleeping in tents

It's nice to have a friend

She turned to him, still playing, and nodded to the keys. “You try.”

“Fuck no, I-”

All it took was her raising her eyebrows expectantly, and Roy found his fingers touching the cool keys. She paused, freezing her fingers and nodding down at them.

“Set your fingers like this,” she instructed. When Roy had taken the same position, she looked at his face. “Just copy my movements.”

She moved her fingers slowly, delicately, and Roy did his best to mirror them. He hit some wrong keys, and he was so stilted and awkward, but he created something resembling music. Slowly, the tension in his shoulders started to dissipate, all the embarrassment in his head gone, making room in his brain for the simple melody they created together. A quiet, almost domestic bliss settled over the two of them, the kind of quiet that didn’t need a single word. He tried to remember the last time he felt such a calmness; probably with Keeley. He didn’t realize how much he missed it, just the pleasure of someone’s company.

And Roy definitely wasn’t complaining about the glowing little smiles she offered him.

It was nice to have a friend, indeed.

~

It was the sun, I told myself as I forced my eyes back to my notebook. I was suddenly feeling warm because I was lying out in the sun. That had to be it.

~

The sun felt good on my face, warm and inviting. I was supposed to be diving through an old notebook and searching for usable lyrics, but Roy kept distracting me. Not on purpose, of course. He just stretched out on our picnic blanket, eyes on the book he’d brought along, pausing only to take a sip of beer or grab a piece of fruit to pop into his mouth. But I couldn’t stop glancing over at him. He looked so incredibly relaxed, kind of like he had the night of his championship celebration, and he had this tiny grin on his face as he read, as if he was amused by the book in his hands. And then I noticed his hands, how strong and firm they looked holding the book open. And today he’d opted to wear shorts, showing off muscular legs I rarely got to see.

“Alright there?”

That gruff voice had me snapping back to reality. “Fine,” I choked out, shaking away thoughts that I really shouldn’t have been having. “How’s your book?”

Roy shrugged and flipped through the pages. “It’s good. I’ve read it before, but it’s nice to revisit?” He raised an eyebrow. “Like you and Gatsby, I guess.”

My eyes scanned the cover I hadn’t paid much attention to earlier. “A Wrinkle in Time,” I read aloud. “I’ve heard that’s a good one.”

“You could borrow it sometime. If you want.” Roy grinned. “When you’re not being pressured to write an entire album of love song for a man you’re not really in love with.” He shook his head, missing way I squirmed at the ‘L’ word. “Freaking Keeley, making you do this. You’re a trooper for saying yes, you know that, sunshine?”

“It’s fine,” I assured him with a little chuckle. “Who doesn’t love a challenge?” I paused, picking at the grass at the edge of the blanket. “Speaking of Keeley…” I let out a little breath, suddenly even warmer in the face. “She didn’t, er, send you any messages recently, did she?”

Something in Roy’s face fell for a flicker of a moment before relaxing again. He quickly shook his head. “No. Did she send you something?”

“Yeah.” I rolled my eyes, pretending my heart wasn’t slamming in my chest. “She says we’re both way too hot to be so… chaste when we’re out together.” I offered an awkward grimace. “She wants us to, like, get caught being hot and heavy.”

The choking sound sputtering out of Roy’s mouth had my face burning even worse than it already was. “Oh.” He blinked a few times, the gears in his head almost visibly turning. “Do you… want to make out then?”

Despite the absolute mortification I was feeling, I couldn’t help laughing at his words. “Jeez, Roy, that’s so high school of you,” I managed between chuckles.

The corners of his eyes crinkled as he finally joined me in laughter. “Fuck me, that was terrible, wasn’t it?” He shook his head, offering a sheepish grin. “But I mean…” His eyes shifted somewhere over my shoulder. “That papps Keeley tipped off is over there somewhere. Probably has a clear view of us.” He raised his eyebrows. “Unless…”

The laughter left my lungs as I looked into those brown eyes, just as unsure as I suddenly felt. This shouldn’t be difficult; we’d been kissing each other for a couple of months now. And I’d filmed plenty of kissing scenes for music videos, I reminded myself. Steamy ones, even. Surely, I could manage to get a little heavy with my supposed boyfriend, couldn’t I?

“Anything for the job,” I joked, suddenly hating the way that had seemed to become our motto.

“For the job,” Roy echoed with a smirk.

Without warning, he grabbed my hips and tugged me onto his lap. A surprised squeal slipped past my lips, prompting a chuckle to rumble in his chest. His hands skittered up and down my back as he smiled up at me.

“This alright?” he hummed. His eyes were on my mouth.

I managed to nod as I rested my hands on his shoulders. “Sure.” I hoped my voice was casual and unbothered.

“Good.”

His lips felt so comfortable against mine, warm and familiar now. I let myself settle onto his lap and closed my eyes, focusing on being as natural as possible. Roy pulled me close, chest to chest, until I felt his heartbeat against my body; he could probably feel mine slamming against my ribs. He tasted like the beer and fruit he’d been enjoying all afternoon, a beautiful, summery combination I wanted to taste forever. Without thinking, I gave a gentle grind against his lap. His grip tightened on me as a curious little hum vibrated against my mouth.

My body was buzzing, on fire, drunk on Roy’s mouth and hands and body. While the little voices in the back of my mind kept reminding me this was an act, this was all pretend, the rest of my mind was screaming Roy’s name, wanting to take him back to the house and make this real.

Taking him back to the house felt like an especially good idea when his hands began to slide down my back, lower and lower.

“Should I…?” he rasped against my lips.

I nodded, refusing to open my eyes and break the spell I was under. “Probably.”

Roy’s hands cupped my ass tentatively, as if he was waiting for me to snap at him; he was probably remembering the night we “met”, where I warned him about his hand placement. Oh, how far we’d come since that night of snarking at each other and trying not to roll our eyes. Trying to assure him he was fine, I pressed down against him again, swallowing back my reflexive groan when I felt the beginning of a bulge against my increasingly needy parts.

Apparently he understood the permission I was giving him, because Roy’s grip on my ass tightened, fingers digging into the material of my jeans. I tried to remember the last time I’d been kissed like this- in public no less. It felt like something was waking up inside me. No, it wasn’t arousal from the kiss, from Roy’s hands on my body like he wanted me. It was a feeling that was settling deep in the pit of my stomach, a feeling that was making itself right at home as a melody and words began to bloom in my mind.

Dammit, it might be love.

~

~

For the last few decades, Roy Kent had spent plenty of time around impressive people. Politicians and rich people who made him want to barf. Actresses and models that looked good on his arm and in his bed. And, of course, some of the most famous, talented athletes in history, athletes he was proud to play against and stand beside. Hell, he was a legend in his own right, something he seemed to conveniently forget.

But he couldn’t help being impressed watching an artist at work, something he hadn’t had the opportunity to witness before now. He was a little nervous for her heading into this holiday, wondering if she’d be able to work under so much pressure. But once they arrived, it was like a dam had broken. She was constantly in her notebooks, scribbling furiously and scrambling through old pages. Or she was strumming away at her guitar or picking at the piano, creating melodies that Roy found himself humming as he relaxed around the house.

She didn’t play much for him, just little snippets here and there that she quickly critiqued and went back to work on. Still, he kept asking her to play him something; but they weren’t ready she insisted. Roy didn’t care; he found himself craving pretty tunes and a prettier voice.

A couple days into the trip, he was in the little kitchen, making some dinner while Sydney padded around, meowing up at him and drowning out the twinkling sounds of the piano. He mumbled back to the cat, reminding her that her owner would not be happy if he snuck her a treat without checking first. But the cat kept chattering, so Roy finally threw his hands up in defeat.

“Fine,” he huffed, unable to believe he was having a conversation with a cat. “Let’s go ask your mum if you can have a bit of fucking carrot.” He scooped up Sydney and let her climb onto his shoulders- a spot he had quickly realized she liked- and made his way into the sitting room.

She looked so comfortable in her sweats, her hair up in a sloppy hairstyle. She was so engrossed in her music, she didn’t notice Roy leaning in the doorway, a ghost of a smile on his face as he listened to her quietly sing.

Sydney’s little meow caught her attention. She stopped playing and looked up at the duo in the doorway, eyes a little wide. “Oh, hey,” she chuckled, smoothing down her wild hair. “Sorry, too loud?”

I spy with my little tired eye

Tiny as a firefly

A pebble that we picked up last July

Down deep inside your pocket

We almost forgot it

Does it ever miss Wicklow sometimes?

They said the end is coming

Everyone's up to something

I find myself running home to your sweet nothings

Outside, they're push and shoving

You're in the kitchen humming

All that you ever wanted from me was sweet nothing

“Not at all,” Roy assured her, reaching up to scratch Sydney behind the ear. Damn cat, interrupting his private concert. “That’s really fucking nice. You should keep going. I’d love to hear it.”

A tiny smile graced her lips when she saw the earnest way Roy was looking at her. “Fine. But you stay over there. I want to pretend you guys aren’t here, alright?”

Roy did as he was told, staying in the doorway as she picked up that sweet little melody and focused her eyes on the notebook in front of her, the words almost indiscernible; she seemed to be able to read the rushed writing with ease.

She took a deep breath and snuck a glance at Roy before continuing to the bridge- her strength as a songwriter, Roy recalled from Keeley.

On the way home

I wrote a poem

You say, "What a mind"

This happens all the time

'Cause they said the end is coming

Everyone's up to something

I find myself running home to your sweet nothings

Outside, they're push and shoving

You're in the kitchen humming

All that you ever wanted from me was nothing

Her smile grew as she went on, looking less like a glamorous popstar and more like a girl, alone in her room, playing with music as if it was a toy, creating something out of nothing but emotions. It was nothing short of magical, Roy admitted to himself. This album was going to be something special, he realized.

Industry disruptors and soul deconstructors

And smooth-talking hucksters out glad-handing each other

And the voices that implore, "You should be doing more"

To you, I can admit that I'm just too soft for all of it

And he’d have to take credit for being its muse.

She looked straight at Roy, not hiding that radiant smile as she sang-

They said the end is coming

Everyone’s up to something

I find myself running home to your sweet nothings

Outside, they’re push and shoving

She played a sweet little outro, eyes still on Roy. Once finished, she offered him a tiny shrug, eyes bright with curiosity. “What d’you think?”

Roy’s in the kitchen humming

All that you ever wanted from me was sweet nothing

They said the end is coming

Everyone’s up to something

I find myself running home to your sweet nothings

Outside, they’re push and shoving

You’re in the kitchen humming

All that you ever wanted from me was sweet nothing

“Fuck,” Roy laughed, finally walking over to sit down next to her, letting Sydney slip down into his arms. “That was lovely. Really lovely.” Before he could stop himself, the question he dreaded asking blurted out of his mouth. “Who’s it about?”

He felt so sure he’d stepped in it when her eyes flickered down, away from his gaze, before looking at him again. “Well, when I originally started writing this one, it was about my mom,” she started slowly. “I had been thinking about this time my parents visited, and we went to Ireland together. It was amazing, getting to show them places they never thought they’d visit.” She shook her head, as if the memories of that trip were fluttering through her mind. Then her eyes found his again. “But it’s also… well, about you, Kent.”

Roy nearly dropped the cat. “Me?” he asked incredulously. “Fuck d’you mean me?”

She chuckled awkwardly, rolling her eyes a little. “What you said about my mind, when I was writing in the car,” she explained. “And how you’ve been just, I dunno, really sweet about everything I’ve been working on here. And, I don’t know, you’ve become a really good friend.” She reached out and placed a hand on his leg, giving a small squeeze. “So I guess this song’s about the people who make me feel safe, happy, despite all the idiots in this world.” She wrinkled her nose. “Does that make sense?”

His heart felt like it stopped dead in his chest. It was such a candid, honest answer- and not the one he expected. He knew she’d have to change lyrics to fit him before finalizing songs, but he didn’t think she’d write about him. Roy wasn’t sure he’d ever been so… flattered? Sure. Flattery. That was the warm feeling nuzzling in his chest, the same warm feeling that was spreading to his cheeks as she blinked at him, waiting for him to say something, probably to assure her that he liked being her muse.

“Oh,” was all that came out of his stupid mouth. “Wow.”

He saw it. He had seen it when he brushed her off the first time she talked to him about The Great Gatsby. He saw it when he walked brusquely out of the room when she first played Nothing New for him in her living room. And he was pretty sure he saw it when he ignored her at the Greyhound’s celebration to pay attention to Keeley.

It was some mix of disappointment and hurt. Something that made Roy wish he was capable of being someone other than himself.

Still, she put on that tiny, shy smile and removed her hand from Roy’s leg. “Yeah,” she chuckled. “Anyway, sorry for interrupting your cooking.” She cleared her throat and stood, scooping Sydney out of his arms. “I better go feed her.” Not quite looking at Roy, she walked out, leaving him all alone at the silent piano.

Taglist: @infinetlyforgotten@ladygrey03@book-of-roses@thatonedogwithablog@misshall14@wibblywobblyvampywolfystuff@akornsworld@itswhateveripromise@purecinnamonextract@oceanncurrent@dearvoidgoodnight@hopefulromances@respondingtoshowerthoughts-blog@hotleaf-juice@emmy2811@captainorbust-blog@preciousbabypeter@shion-ah@royalestrellas@eugene-emt-roe@littleesilvia@teenwolf01@sisinever@yagotgames@queen-of-the-downtown-scene@emmaallisonann@mrdsturd@confessionsofatotaldramaslut@charkachow@mrdsturd@littlepinapple@sunfairyy@shadowzena43@uhmidkmuch@imsoluckyeverythingworksoutforme

[eldritch-nightmare]

Had smth in mind based on those Jeff Headcannons you did,,,,,What about The Doll Maker or Bloody Painter(or both idk I’m indecisive) yandere Headcannons but with a willing reader,,,Thought abt that while listening to Ayesha Erotica, idk how

a/n: your wish is my command. going with the bloody painter since i haven't really written much for him here yet. this one got away from me a bit. sorry if it's messy, but i hope you find enjoyment from it nonetheless <3

yandere bloody painter with a willing s/o.

warnings: gn!reader, yandere content, puppeteer cameo bc why not, crush at first... smile?, reader goes to an art school, reader has some questionable morals, stalking, possessive behavior, murder, blood, breaking and entering, the public nor authorities doesn't know that helen is the bloody painter in this btw, morbid painting, a brief description of gore, idk art so sorry if i describe it incorrectly.

Oh, man. I can see him behaving in two different ways. One is the way he'd behave around you if you were there in his childhood and the other is if he met you after everything happened. For this, we'll focus on how he behaves after everything happened.

Helen is very emotionally reserved and pretty apathetic, to be honest with you. It's very difficult to get close to him. I like to think that you two met while he was getting some more art supplies.

He saw you struggling to pick between two paints and, being the artist that he is, he decided to do something a little nice for once and help you out.

And, a little bit to his surprise, that led to a rather lengthy conversation about art as you detailed to him the art project you were working on and how you really weren't sure what direction you wanted to take it because the prompt given to you didn't give you any ideas.

And as we all know, Helen is nothing if not an artist. So, obviously, he listens to every little detail you provide him and offers some advice that may help you out before you two go your separate ways.

And--

Huh. Why'd his chest suddenly feel all warm at the sight of your smile?

He finds himself drawing your smiling face later, thinking that maybe the warm feeling in his chest was just a random burst of inspiration. I mean, he is an artist after all. Inspiration tends to strike at the most random times.

His dear friend seems to think otherwise.

"Aw, does Helen have a little crush?" -> "If you don't have anything of value to say, then please keep your mouth shut."

He doesn't have a crush on you. Not that he knows what it's like to have a crush, I mean he's never been in love before, but he doesn't. No way.

Then he sees you again, and damn. I guess The Puppeteer was right. He does have a crush. Oh well. He accepts this revelation immediately and comes to terms with this newfound feeling rather quickly.

It's just a small crush, one that he's sure will go away soon. But he's never felt this way before, and the feeling leaves him curious, so he finds himself actively seeking you out.

He doesn't consider it to be stalking at first, just... studying. But then he follows you home one day, and he realizes that maybe these feelings of his aren't as small as he thought they were.

Does he feel bad for stalking you? I think, momentarily, he questions why he's doing this but... he's not a great guy in the first place. He does kill people and use their blood as paint, after all.

And you're aware that someone is watching you. You can feel eyes on you most nights. You should be scared, you know that, but... for some reason, you don't. If anything, you start leaving your blinds open more often.

Helen will sometimes even sketch you while he watches you. The way you hold yourself and the way you move around... it just makes him want to capture every moment he can in his sketchbook. He even briefly considers picking up photography as a hobby the longer he watches you, but he decides to just stick with his own form of art.

But he really likes it when he gets to see you make your own art.

And that's when he breaks into your home for the first time. You were out with some friends, and when you came home, you noticed your door was unlocked. At first, you didn't really think much of it, but when you went to your room, you couldn't help but feel as if something were off.

It took you a while, but you soon discovered that some of your drawings were missing. Thankfully, none of the ones you drew for class were missing.

You had no means of contacting your stalker, which you suppose is a good thing, so instead you just wrote on a piece of paper and taped it to your window.

'Glad you like my drawings.'

And the next day, taped on the outside of your window was a little doodle of a smiley face.

You didn't give this odd relationship much thought, to be honest. You thought it was kinda cute that this random stranger seemed to derive some type of joy from watching you. He hasn't done anything to hurt you, and his intentions don't seem malicious, so you honestly had no problem with it.

Of course, your friends definitely thought it was weird. They think that you need to report your stalker to the police, but you choose to ignore their concerns. You reassure them that if you ever feel as if you're life is in any danger, you'll inform the authorities about what's happening.

So, it goes on like this for a while. Helen would mostly stick to watching you from afar, but sometimes he'd break into your place while you're sleeping just to get a closer look at you. Sometimes, you'll wake up and there will be a drawing of you on your nightstand. You keep those drawings tucked away safely in one of the many empty sketchbooks you own.

Then a... domino effect of sorts took place.

You started going to a new café since it was closer to where you lived and closer to the school you attended. -> There's a cute barista there who always flirts with you whenever you buy a coffee or get yourself a treat. -> You humored their behavior because you thought it was cute, so you would flirt back sometimes. -> It became routine, and a couple weeks into the routine, the barista just up and vanished.

You thought they had quit, but you overheard some of the other employees at the café whispering about how they hadn't heard anything from them.

Something that should have been completely unrelated, you lose your red paint. You can't find it anywhere.

Continuing on with the domino effect, a day or two goes by and you hear on the news that the barista you had been flirting with was found dead in their home, drained dry of their blood. The police believe this to be another victim of The Bloody Painter.

You wouldn't have thought much of it, but then you notice a note taped to your window.

'There's a gift for you in your kitchen.'

And when you went to your kitchen, you saw a container resting on the counter. It wasn't translucent or see-through, so you couldn't see inside of it, but there was another note resting on top of it.

'I saw you were out of red paint, so I got you some more. We should meet up this week and paint together, don't you think? I'd love to see what you can create with this.'

And the note wasn't signed with a smiley face this time. It was signed with a name.

Helen Otis.

You set the note to the side and one quick look inside the container told you that he had given you blood to use as paint.

It didn't take you long to piece together what was going on here. The blood he had given you was no doubt the blood of the barista who had been murdered, which means... your stalker was that serial killer that's been all over the news these past few months.

The person who has been breaking into your home and leaving you those drawings was a serial killer. And he... he trusted you enough to tell you his name?

Holy shit, that's a lot to take in.

You should be panicking. Hell, you should be calling the police to let them know about all of this. You'd be doing the world some good if you did that, and it would save a lot of lives.

But your gaze drifts back to the note, and your mind wanders to all the drawings he's made of you, and... this was just so...

Cute. It felt romantic, even.

He killed a person you had been flirting with and gave you their blood as a gift. That has to be his way of letting you know that you were his.

You didn't even think about what you were going to do. You took the container of blood and you took it to your room. It didn't take you long to set up a tarp on the ground since it was no doubt going to drip onto your floor and you really didn't need blood stains in your carpet.

And you searched up a reference of what you wanted to paint, and you immediately got to work.

Later that night, while you were sleeping peacefully in your bed, Helen was breaking into your home for the nth time.

The reason why is because you had left a note for him to see on your window, one that had certainly caught his attention.

There's a gift for you in the kitchen.

You've never left him a gift before, so his curiosity was certainly piqued.

He made sure to be quiet as he made his way to your kitchen, not wanting to wake you up. He wasn't ready to meet you. Not yet.

When he gets to your kitchen, he certainly wasn't really expecting to see a canvas resting on the counter, a white sheet covering whatever was painted on it. A sticky note was placed on the sheet as well, and Helen stepped closer to it to read it.

This is what it looked like, right?

p.s. I'm willing to take you up on that offer.

And on the corner of the sticky note, there was a small smiley face doodle. How cute.

With the note read, Helen wasted no time carefully removing the sheet from the canvas, a subtle excitement coursing through his veins.

And... oh. Oh, you're as fucked up as him, aren't you?

What he sees is a downright devastatingly beautiful piece of work.

The painting was completely done with just the blood he had given you, with a few pencil marks for shading, and it depicted the murder he had committed just a few days prior.

He imagines that it was rather easy to find a photo of the crime scene online, but you were somehow able to capture the scene perfectly and you weren't ever there.

From the way the body was hanging upside down from the ceiling, a few buckets underneath it to collect the blood dripping from it. The way lifeless look in their eyes that you had done with a pencil... the gashes all over their body...

You had passed the test he had set up for you.

He took this as a sign of acceptance. A sign that you wanted to be his. You wouldn't keep the blood and make such a masterpiece with it if you didn't, right?

A slight smile formed on his face at the thought, and he stood there and admired the art you had made for him.

Hmm... maybe he'll stick around until you wake up...

[lonelywriter10]

This isn’t a fairytale

Jake Seresin x GN!Reader

Synopsis- too many nights apart, too many cancelled dates, reservations, anniversaries and Jakes world is crumbling around him.

(GIF credits go to the owner )

Warnings- angst, break up, soulmates? (This was lowkey inspired by White horse by Taylor Swift.)

- Nat : I’ll be on standby if you need me.

You stare at the text on your phone, the weight of the world sat on your chest as you watch the front door for Jake. The calendar reminder on your phone telling you how you missed a dinner reservation with Jake an hour ago. Today had been one of many incidents of Jake missing something important and tonight was not an exception, but it was the final straw.

You hear the sound of the lock clicking as Jakes heavy boots sound through the entryway. The sound of your dog, Macy, rushing to see Jake. You can see how he’d get down and pat Macy, asking about her day, asking what she did as if she could talk back to him. The rain fell gently against the window and the warm glow of the lamp filled the living room. There was a sense of melancholy that hung in the air, you watched as Jake stepped into the living room, his gaze fell on you and you saw how relief filled his eyes. 

You smiled at him as he sat on the couch, it dipped beneath his weight as he let out a sigh sinking into the cushions. “How was your day?” His baritone voice filled the silent, echoing around the room. The simple domesticity of the question seemed forced, his tone of voice didn’t meet the emotions in his eyes. The soft calm tone didn't meet the dread in his eyes, the knowing of the inevitable. 

“It was good..” Your words came out quiet as silence fell between you both again. Jake could see the hints of curls peeking out of your messy bun, the discarded heels by the front door and the purse you reserved for special occasions on the dining room table.

Jake felt his heart grow heavy as he looked at you, regret filled his chest as he knew, knew you were tired of being second to his job, having to be told that he wouldn’t make your date, your anniversary dinner. Jake knew you were sick of the “Jake would miss your wedding if the army called.” Joke that his friends threw around, he knew you were dine but Jake couldn’t find it within himself to face the reality in front of him. 

“Babe I-” Jake began to speak but the sound of your scoff echoed through the room, the tension thickened as your gaze finally met his. 

“Jake, when will I stop being second? When will I be the first choice?” Your voice quivered as you spoke, the words felt like a stab into Jake’s chest. “I thought that stupid joke your friends made would be nothing but a joke, but I looked like such a clown sitting at the dining table waiting for you!”

Jake flinched slightly as you raised your voice. “Babe please I-” Jake felt a lump in his throat as he looked at you, he reached out for you and found swift rejection as you stood up from the couch. Jake admired you, draped in his old navy shirt and your sleep shorts, an attire Jake often found you in when he returned from work. Jake found something so plain, so simple to be so beautiful in his eyes.  “Babe please I’m sorry..” Jake could no longer count how many times he had said that phrase, it left his lips too often for Jake to deny it. Jake knew he said the phrase “I’m sorry.”  more than he said “I love you.”

“But that's just it Jake, you’re sorry! You’re always sorry!.” Your words came out exasperated as your breathing became ragged, the threat of tears drawing nearer as Jake stood up and stepped closer to you. “Don’t even come closer to me!” 

Jake felt his heart shatter, his world crumbled as he looked at you. The words “I’m sorry, please forgive me.” Threatened to spill as he looked at you. Jake had witnessed many fights between his parents as a child, but in his head, this isn't you guys, this wasn’t what your relationship was like. Jake felt everything fall apart as you walked to the bedroom, your suitcase right on your heels as you quickly came back out. “This is it?” Jake’s lip wobbled as he slowly turned to look at you. “I’m sorry, I can’t do the missed anniversaries, the cancelled dates, I couldn’t stop imagining what it would be like if we ever had children, got married, would you miss those dates too?” Jake wanted to deny your words, he wanted to say that he wouldn’t but he knew, Jake knew that there was no guarantee. 

Jake took his favourite ring on a chain off his neck, clasping the necklace around your own neck. “I can’t guarantee that I wouldn’t miss those events sweetheart, but if by some miracle you still want me one day this ring will bring you back to me..” Jake’s voice shook as he struggled to keep his composure, he placed a gentle kiss on your temples as more tears fell between you both. “I love you sweetheart, but I know I made you unhappy..” You shook your head no as you leaned into his embrace. “It was never you Jake, it was the job..” Jake nodded as he wished it was that simple, he wished it was the job and not him. 

Jake knew the cost of the military. 

Jake helped you take your things out to your truck, the night sky was clear. It contrasted with the blue sky during the day, the blue sky bringing a sense of promise and hope and the dark night brought a sense of dread and loneliness that Jake could only describe as haunting. Jake stood with Macy on the porch as they both watched you back out of the driveway, tears fell down both your cheeks as you got a final look at Jake and the house, and Jake got a final look at you. Taking in how the moonlight highlighted the often hidden beauty of your features, features that Jake would only see at night when he held you in his arms in bed.

He would never get that chance again. 

Jake stood on the porch for a few moments, hoping you’d turn the car around, that you’d come back to him. Jake turned around and went back into the house, Macy looked between Jake and the driveway. The confusion written in the dog’s eyes. Jake curled onto the bed you two once shared, the smell of your shampoo on the pillow, the hollow feeling of the house  echoed around as Jake cried. 

You sat at the beach, the radio played softly as you sat there admiring the glow of the moonlight on the ocean. The events of tonight played in your head, the decision was right, thats what your head said.

But your heart disagreed. 

It called for Jake, you yearned for his touch to make everything feel better in that moment. Both your worlds fell apart as tears fell almost simultaneously. 

In different places you both were still in sync with one another. 

The sound of your hearts breaking.

The echoes of your sobs. 

Fallen tears on cheeks.

(A/N Lowkey dipped on yall, sorry :( life got rlly busy it was crazy)

[ouchmyheart22]

Lucky (OPLA! Buggy the Clown x Reader)

Summary: Buggy thoroughly enjoys making you scowl and squirm as you take the night watch

WordCount: 2.5K

Rating: Semi-Explicit (mentions of sex)

______

You should've never let them draw straws.

You were too honest to be going up against a womanizer, a pirate hunter and a rubber boy, although you had assumed Luffy's draw was more luck than anything.

Usopp had gone first, holding his breath as he picked between the five matches in Sanji's grip - who had complained his chef's knives shouldn't really be used to chop wood.

Usopp had been satisfied with his draw, releasing the breath he had been holding in a long sigh, wiping sweat from his brow.

Zoro picked from the pile with little interest, as always, though he seemed somewhat relieved with his draw as he tucked it between his palm.

Luffy, stalling, had attempted eeny meeny miny moe before Sanji and you had objected and eventually Luffy brandished yet another long matchstick in between his fingers

Your eyes locked with Sanji as he turned fully to you now, smiling his signature lopsided grin. Sanji winked, stepped closer, almost mocking you as he held the two seemingly identical matchsticks in his fist.

You took a short breath before gripping the matchstick closest to the blonde.

You pulled the tiny matchstick from Sanji's grip with ease, groaning as soon as you saw the size. It was no more than two inches.

The men all let out sighs of relief as you held up the comically small matchstick in front of your face.

'Sorry love. Seems you were unlucky tonight' Sanji smiled, his signature lopsided smirk.

'Luck has nothing to do with it' you mumbled, pressing your back against the kitchen island. Sanji clicked his tongue, shaking his head.

'Ah c'mon fairs fair' he grinned, pressing his now free hands into the counter next to you 'Someone had to watch him overnight'

You'd glanced back towards the bag, sitting atop the table, quiet for once, though were sure that wouldn't last for long.

'Maybe he's suffocated' Usopp tried, attempting to lighten the mood, looking around to gauge a reaction.

'We wouldn't be that lucky' Zoro answered, monotone and seemingly disappointed that the clown was still breathing,

Luffy gripped the strap of the bag, unceremoniously allowing Buggy, or what was there of him, to roll out onto the table. His bandanna askew, his makeup messy and smudged, he was by no means the fearsome leader he had once proclaimed himself to be.

Zoro chose this as his exit as he saluted you all a goodnight, his swords jangling at his waist as he left the kitchen.

'Boggy (Y/N) will be watching you tonight so please be on good behaviour' Luffy had warned, wagging his finger at the clowns head.

Buggy had grinned, allowing his eyes to focus on you, standing between Usopp and Sanji. Somehow between the two taller men you didn't feel small, but under the clown's menacing gaze you couldn't help but shrink slightly.

'Oh well I guess today is my lucky day' he grinned. His eyes darkened as he watched you turn away from his gaze, shifting slightly on one foot.

A nervous tick? Maybe. He wanted to know where they had picked you up from.

'Fucking hell what's with all this luck talk tonight? You guys sound like a bunch of gamblers' you sighed, rolling your eyes in an attempt to seem unbothered by the situation.

'You're just bitter because you drew the short straw love' Sanji commented, nudging your shoulder with his he sent you a sly smile.

'Is it really drawing straws if we did it with matches' Usopp wonders absent-minded, his mouth opening to ponder the question.

'Wanna re-do Usopp?' you turned to him with hope only to see the man raise his hands and shake his head.

'Nah nah I'm good' he started to back away, hitting his hip off the kitchen counter but choosing to ignore it despite the flinch of pain 'Like Sanji said, fairs fair'

Luffy had slapped his hands on your shoulder before following Usopp outside 'Sleep well (Y/N)'

You almost wanted to curse him out, before realising he was too sincere for such harsh words. As if you would be getting sleep with this crazy clown on your nightstand all night.

'Am I really that bad?' Buggy had queried, fake-hurt displayed on his features.

You and Sanji locked eyes instead of answering the jester.

'Just give me a shout if he gives any trouble princess' and with a wink and a snap of his fingers, Sanji had left you alone with the clown.

_______________

Buggy had remained in the bag during the short trip to your room, much to his disappointment. Much to his relief, you had drawn the unfortunate task of buggysitting tonight. God, he couldn't decide which was worse - Arlong's crew or being passed around like a beach-ball by a bunch of brats.

'C'mon toots what's so wrong with carrying me huh? Cut a clown a break here' his voice was muffled through the fabric of the bag, though you could make out his ramblings fine. So much for hoping it would help drown out his voice tonight.

You'd placed the black bag on the floor next to your hammock as you started to sift through your own belongings. What little you had brought with you seemed a lot less now as you stared at the contents of your rucksack.

'Hey hey, let me out already. I'm dying in here' Buggy complained.

With a dramatic sigh, you'd opened the bag , briefly holding Buggy's head before setting him atop the small chest next to your hammock. Your fingers were soft, despite your quick grasp, he couldn't help but lean into the touch. The sensation of your thumb grazing his cheek left a satisfying warmth he couldn't deny felt nice. For a second, he wondered when the last time someone had touched him so carefully.

Seeing you crouch back towards the few clothes strewn about the floor Buggy had grinned, his smile elongated by his smudged lipstick.

'Oh I didn't realise I'd be getting a show tonight' he grunted, shaking his head as your eyes trailed up from your few clothing choices to the clown, who seemed very, very pleased all of a sudden.

'What are you talking about clown?' you narrowed your eyes, still crouched on the floor below him.

God Buggy wished he had his body back.

'I love red by the way. Hope you got matching panties. We picking those next?'

Someday, Buggy would learn to keep his big clown mouth shut.

The t-shirt fabric that you'd thrown over his face smelled of lavender and soap, a far cry from the sandy satchel Arlong had kept him in. He could hear you shuffling in front of him, undressing, which Buggy would've killed to see.

From the days he'd spent in the bag (with one ear in Luffy's hat) he'd learned to fine tune his hearing. He almost shuddered at the sound of a bra clasp untie, the shuffle of your feet as you walked forward to pick up a shirt. Buggy waited hopefully, for you to pick the top off his head, giving him an unobstructed view.

He doubted he'd be that lucky.

When you eventually unmasked him, dropping the t-shirt back on the floor, he gave a disappointed frown to see you fully clothed.

'If you're going for a strip tease honey, normally a negligee would be more appealing to me' he advised, baring a toothy grin.

'I don't give a fuck what you find appealing clown' you shot back, your eyes darkened, clearly annoyed with his remarks. Despite your glare, your lips were not pulled into a frown.

A soft plump pout rested just above your chin, pink and perfect, the annoyance never seemed to reach your mouth, despite your eyes showing disgust. Quick-witted and blunt, you hadn't appeared phased by the obscenities that left his mouth.

You had the confidence of a woman who had been at sea her whole life, secure and self-reliant in your skills. But you were young, not much older than your crewmates, still yet to experience betrayal, heartbreak, anguish.

He wanted to see you unravel.

'Ah cmon sweetheart, don't be like that' he whined, his green eyes widening as he pleaded.

Your expression remained icy, you eyes narrowing again and he decides he likes this expression on you. Unsure and untrusting, your eyes remained trained in him as he spoke again.

'We could have a good time tonight. You and me' he offered, his voice lower this time. He raised one eyebrow, cocking his head to the side.

'I seriously doubt that' you scoffed, picking up the newspaper next to Buggy's head.

'Don't knock it till you try it baby'

Honey. Sweetheart. Baby. You tried to think of the last time someone had called you something so fond, and although you knew the clown wasn't sincere, you couldn't help the twinge of anxiety the nicknames gave you.

You laughed, humourless, at Buggy's comment yet he decided he liked the sound.

'I don't think you'll have much takers as a head' you commented

'Believe me sweets, the detachable limbs do it for a lot of women. Trust me' he seemed proud, you seemed disgusted.

'Trust you? Oh that's rich coming from you'

You'd seated yourself in the small armchair in the corner of the room by now, too far away from Buggy's liking. The newspaper obstructed his view of your face, so he trained his eyes on your legs instead, not that he had any objections.

'Hey, I'm the one leading you to carrot top and her fish friends'

'And believe me, that's the only thing you have going for you right now clown. The only thing that's keeping Zoro from throwing you overboard'

He cringed at the thought of mosshead - tall, dark and handsome. No doubt a good fit for a girl like you. He was silent for a moment and you resisted the urge to look up from your book at the stewing jester.

You almost felt bad for him, given his current situation, he was completely at the mercy of you and the crew. No doubt, he'd return the favour as soon as he got the chance.

As you flipped onto the next page, Buggy had left a dramatic sigh leave his Cheshire mouth. You didn't even glance up.

Damn you were fucking pretty. Even in the wooden cabin, only lit by the small oil lamp atop the chest, you looked like you belonged in a painting, an artist's muse.

A few seconds later, a louder drawn out sigh left Buggy's lips. You reread the article line a third time, something about a marine base attack in the north quarter.

Another few seconds, later Buggy had forced another long sigh. You turned the page again before glancing up at him.

'I wouldn't be complaining clown, I let you out of the bag' you raised an eyebrow, bending the newspaper slightly to see his head.

'Oh I'm not complaining baby. What'd make you think that?' Another drawn out sigh, deep and breathy 'I'm just meditating. Good for the mind. Great for the soul'

'Ah yes and you're the picture of health' you folded the newspaper in your lag, allowing the clown a full view of your face now. Your skin was darkened by the shadows of the room, he couldn't read your expression from here.

'I'll have you know I have been the cover model for every issue of Buggy's Bazaar since it's inception' his chin jutted up in pride.

Buggy was in fact the only cover model for Buggy's Bazaar, his very own pirate magazine. Printed in-house, bimonthly (if Cabaji remembered the ink) and distributed in-house, as Buggy was working out the kinks of international distribution right now.

'Never heard of it. You must not get many sales' you were definitely playing along now, he couldn't help but widen his grin.

'Not safe for work. It's usually banned but I could send you a few copies sweets. Help you through those lonely nights' he winked, clicking his tongue.

'Maybe I'll take you up on the offer' your lips had curved up into a smirk, a delicious sort of lopsided smile he found himself thinking about days later. Mischief clung to the edges of your eyes as he searched them for a reaction.

Buggy's tongue almost fell out of his head. He knew you were humouring him but he didn't expect such a bold response. Attempting to regain his cool, his long-distance heart did a somersault as he stared at you.

'I could throw in a few racy pics, if you're interested' he bargained, his own grin turning lopsided to match your own.

You jutted your chin towards him, so Buggy continued.

'First issue is free for new customers. Though I'm sure you'll be a returning' another wink seemed to be overkill but he was working with what he had, no body and all.

'Definitely. Usopp's been complaing we need something stronger to mop the floors with anyway'

You had laughed as his confident smile had dropped, turning into an irritated scowl. Embarrassed and suddenly tense, Buggy began to grind his teeth.

Embarrassed? Buggy was never embarrassed! He had his own show for fucks sake, a crew that followed his every order and more berry than he knew what to do with. Buggy did not get embarrassed.

Especially not by the rejection of a young pretty little thing like you. Right?

You'd wiped tears from your eyes, obviously satisfied with your little joke.

'Consider the offer revoked. I don't think a prude like you would find much interest in my art anyway' he tried to sound nonchalant, his masculinity unchallenged, pretending to both you and himself he wasn't dissappointed.

'Oh you think I'm a prude? Cause I don't want your nudie magazine?' you queried, crossing your arms.

'It's not nude, it's semi-nude. I'm not tasteless' he corrected.

'I beg to differ'

'Is it the makeup? Is that it? You prefer a guy who bares blackheads and all?'

'Enough trying to sell me on your raunchy magazine' you had pushed yourself from the chair, placing the newspaper next to Buggy's head 'And I'm not a prude just because I don't want it'

'Oh sweetheart I think you want it' he wriggled his eyebrows suggestively.

You rolled your eyes before blowing out the small flame in the oil lamp, sending the room into darkness.

'Setting the mood I see? Didn't think all that talk would get you this riled up baby'

He groaned as you sent a harsh slap of the newspaper to his forehead.

'I'm still feeling generous clown, so shut it before I put you back in the bag for the night'

He bit his tongue, hearing you climb easily into your hammock, settling down, your breathing starting to slow into a nice, relaxed pace.

In the darkness of the cabin, you let yourself crack a smile at his comment.

'Let me in that hammock and I'll show you how generous I can be'

-----

Request are open so please send an ask! <3

[pearl-blue-musings]

Well I had a shitty day at this family reunion thing. Just got home and went to watch my fave's only scenes compilation and idk, the idea just exploded in me like, I have so much pent up aggression rn. Like if he so much as breathes next to me, imma start an argument.

"...you don't need to raise your voice."

"And you don't need to be annoying right now."

"....."

"whatever."

"You have a bit of an attitude tonight, what gives?"

"You wanna lecture me now too?"

"...too? What is wron--"

(SMOOCH)

-Penny

Oh my dear I’m so sorry you had a rough day!! I hope the last couple of days have treated you better!!

Shinsou was ready to welcome you home with open arms. He didn’t want to immediately tell you, but he saw the little mishap you had while out on patrol and knew you’d need some comfort. What he didn’t expect, though, was for you to be absolutely fuming when you came home.

You slam the door and kick off your shoes, grumbling under your breath. You throw your hero gear haphazardly around as the argument with your superior ran through your head again. “You idiot! Did you even get proper hero training? You’re just a measly sidekick! Save the true heroics for ranked heroes like me; am I clear? Don’t you EVER try to take away from my limelight and do what I tell you. Understand?”

You had tried to reason with him. “Sir,” you had said holding back tears, “there were innocent civilians in the way. I-I was trying to protect them! And-“

“And you ran into me! Know your fucking place!”

It was after he berated you your eyes were privy to the camera nearby. So of course, you wanted to come home and just decompress, do nothing, and contemplate your career choices. You’re about to throw another one of your bags on the ground when it’s caught midair by your boyfriend and fellow hero.

“Whoa there, kitten,” Shinsou chuckles, “what did the wall do to you?”

“Shut the fuck up, Hitoshi. I don’t wanna hear it.”

You push past him and he’s left frozen. He openly blinks, feeling any kind of sympathy for you running out. He grabs at your shoulder to turn you around, trying not to succumb to your cute angry pout. “You wanna run that by me again?” There was a hint of a growl in his voice. He knows you’re upset, but taking it out on him is where he draws the line.

You click your tongue and roll your eyes. “I don’t need another man telling me what to do, so back. Off.” Shinsou’s eyebrows raise, wanting to find ways to calm down but they aren’t coming at the moment. You have the right to feel what you feel, but you don’t take it out on the home you two share.

“Maybe if you did what you were supposed to do, this wouldn’t have happened.”

As soon as those words left his mouth, he knew he was fucked.

Your jaw drops and your eyebrows furrow. “Oh fuck you, you’re an underground hero so what would you know?” Your arms wriggle to get free from his grasp and Shinsou eventually concede.

He scoffs and follows you to the bedroom. “What would I know? I at least know how to follow orders from my team leader. And to know if there’s cameras around when I’m getting berated like that.”

“So it’s my fault?!”

“I never said that, kitten.”

The space between you decreases as he approaches you slowly. “Don’t kitten me!” The two of you are close enough that you can look up to him and poke his chest. You see that toothy, sexy grin of his as he towers over you.

“Tch, kitten.”

“You motherf-“

He silences your rebuttal with a needy and sloppy kiss, his hands cupping your neck to bring you closer to him. Your hands wrap around his waist and start to tug at the hem of his shirt. The kiss is messy, teeth clashing and tongues darting in and out. The kiss ends abruptly when you finally get his shirt off and he’s able to see your eyes, alight with a fiery passion he seldom sees from you.

He smirks. “You just wanted to get fucked after a bad day didn’t you, kitten?”

The purr in his voice goes straight to your inner thighs and you nod sheepishly. He grabs at your ass before unceremoniously pushing you onto the bed. “Good,” he whispers in your ear, “I was hoping I could fuck away your frustration.”

[kentocidal]

FILE NAME: SUMMER CAMP BLUES.TXT

USERS FOUND: stalker!yan!izuku midoriya x fem!afab!reader

WARNING! THIS FILE HAS BEEN CORRUPTED! DO NOT OPEN! noncon, dubcon, piv, fingering (f!receiving), blood, violence, stalking, yandere, biting and drawing blood, ask to tag

NOTES ABOUT THE VIRUS: you could’ve sworn you saw eyes in the woods. deep pits of blackness and a lust you couldn’t fathom… until it was right in front of you, that is.

INTERNAL MESSAGE: heed the tags. i’m being so serious. and please, ask me to tag anything that i may have missed. visit the masterlist here!

NEW NOTIFICATIONS! @kaedescara @yaekiss @pvbbyb0y @voidshoutsback @4izawas (want to be added? send me an ask off anon!)

you took a step back and away from the boy in front of you. he was… was he crying? this didn’t make any sense. he looked so meek, so… scared, almost. 

“what do you mean, no?” he sniffled, barely holding it together as he peered at you with emerald eyes that glinted in the moonlight. “you said you liked me, that you really loved being my friend… i thought we would be together forever.”green curls fell into his face as he sniffled and wiped at his eyes with the backs of his hands. he really looked younger than you, even though he was a year your senior. you winced at the sight, looking around to see if any of your friends were there to save you. no one came.

“i’m sorry, izuku. i just don’t like you like that. i hope you can forgive me.”

he didn’t reply, only sniffling a little harder, so you got to your feet from the picnic blanket beneath you. “i’m just going to go back to my cabin. we can pretend this didn’t happen in the morning, okay?”

you were met with silence from the boy as his image started to waver in front of you. you turned, seeing the lights of your cabin in the distance through the trees, and you took two steps through the grass before a vice grip was suddenly attached to your wrist.

you were yanked back down to the floor, and izuku was over you, tear-stained face close to yours, a sick look in his eyes. “don’t leave me. you can’t fucking leave me-”

you shot up straight in your bed, almost smacking your head on the rafters thanks to being on the top bunk. you looked around, feeling like the grip of that kid was still on you. you took a few deep breaths and flopped right back down onto your pillow. just that dream again, you muttered inwardly, closing your eyes again in the morning light of the dawn peeking through the messy blinds of the staff cabin you shared with your friend.

every summer since that day, you’d had dreams of that teen from your past. you hadn’t seen or heard from him since that day, and frankly, a majority of it wasn’t even what had happened. izuku midoriya was the shy kid at camp, and you had befriended him to be nice. you really had ended up enjoying his company, however, until he turned around and asked you out. you had said no, and he accepted that and walked away, never to be seen again. your friends at the time assumed he had simply begged his mom to come pick him up, too embarrassed to face you, but you didn’t know for sure.

it had been a long, long time since that day. you were a kid, barely a teenager, and yet the memory kept coming back as if it was a horrible trauma you had faced. you rubbed the heels of your palms into your eyes and considered trying to go back to sleep, but you instead were met with the blaring of your friend’s alarm from the bunk below. it was time to get up and get ready for work.

you had ended up with the seasonal gig as soon as you turned eighteen, graduating from summer camp goer to summer camp counselor. you enjoyed giving kids of the younger generations the experiences that you had gotten growing up, whether it be making boats out of different materials to float out onto the lake, friendship bracelets, or even just telling ghost stories by the fire. the camp had become your passion, and you had figured that dealing with nightmares every summer was worth it to see the kids be happy year after year.

you rolled your way out of bed and clambered lazily down the ladder, smacking your friend in the face with a pillow to get her ass up and moving. it was going to be another long day of hiking followed by a bonfire, and you were in charge of both.

you spent the early morning hours getting yourself ready, taking full advantage of the private staff bathrooms to shower in peace (without shower shoes! because your friends were clean!) and attempted, yet again, to make sense of your nightmare.

ever since you returned to the camp as a counselor, you felt watched. you felt as though someone was always just beyond the tree line, just out of eyesight. you had almost started convincing yourself you were crazy, what with how your friends made fun of you for feeling that way. they consistently reminded you that you were always safe within the fencing of the summer camp, with cameras and people everywhere, and you had half a mind to believe them.

sometimes, though, you convinced yourself that you could see someone in the woods. a mna, large and wide, a mop of hair over his face, as though he had been living in the wilderness for years. you saw him late at night or early in the morning, far off in the distance. if you caught him, he would disappear just as quickly as he arrived.

you were starting to believe it when your friends told you you were crazy.

a bump against the bathroom window roused you from your introspection, and you turned your head towards it. upon seeing nothing, you simply assumed that it was a bird dropping something against the window pane. 

you shut the water off and stepped out of the shower. nothing to be afraid of.

—

you smiled widely as you led your group of young teens up the side of the mountain, walking stick in hand, heavy pack adding to your load as you trekked through the rocky terrain. you heard some kids chit chatting with each other, others whining about having to do physical movement while on a summer retreat. you just laughed at their antics, shaking your head and shouting that you were almost at the top. 

you took a look around to locate the next white marker on a tree up ahead. thank the gods for the people that had first mapped the trail and made your life so much easier. you tossed a look over your shoulder to remind the kids to grab onto the sturdy looking trees you were grabbing to help them tug themselves up over higher rocks, and they listened to you.

you got your group to the top first with no cuts or bruises. it was almost like a miracle.

two by two your campers stepped up into the clearing, ooh’s and ahh’s being shared amongst them as they took in the beautiful view of nature.

you allowed yourself a moment of reprieve, knowing your kids weren’t stupid and wouldn’t get closer to the ledge. you hummed a tune as you took your backpack off and dropped it near the very edge, taking a seat at the rock cliff and swinging your legs over the edge. kicking them back and forth, you fumbled in your pack for one of your large water jugs, unscrewing it and taking a few long sips. 

you felt serene, up there on that ledge. you kept an ear out for your kids, but you allowed them to explore the beautiful clearing for a minute or two as you cooled down from your workout. you even allowed yourself to pour a little of the water over the back of your neck. sighing as the cool liquid soaked into your shirt and cooled you off immediately.

it was then that you saw it. the slightest of flashes, something that you shouldn’t have been able to see with your sunglasses on.

your brows furrowed. you were high up on a mountain in the middle of the woods, and you know you saw something flash. 

you lifted your sunglasses up to perch them on your head as you looked out towards that general direction, and that’s when you saw it again. a flash, followed by movement in the trees.

a… a camera? maybe? but there shouldn’t be anyone in the woods.

“miss yn! miss yn! come here! we found a cool bug!”

“i’m coming!” you shouted back to your camper who was begging for your attention, slowly rising to your feet as you continued to stare out into the woods, directly at where the flash came from.

you packed your bag and hurried from the ledge. maybe you needed to take some melatonin to really get a good night’s sleep tonight. you were seeing things,

—

the bonfire was a success. only two of the younger girls got marshmallow in their hair! that much was considered an absolute win.

you and your other counselors got your respective cabins to bed a little later that night, having allowed them to stay up by the fire until the temperature really started to dip. you and your friend were on the hook for putting the blaze out, as any good camp counselors should when practicing fire safety in the middle of the woods. 

you, however, had come prepared with a hoodie over your tshirt and shorts. your friend, not so much. you sighed as you watched her shaking hands fumble with another water bottle, and you walked over to take it from her and shoo her off. “i can put it out. it’s small now,” “but we’re not supposed to leave each other alone,” she whined right back to you, making you actually laugh. 

“you know i can handle myself in the dark, babes. i’ll be fine. go, before you give yourself hypothermia.” “i think i should stay-” “go. i got this.” you chuckled and turned her by her shoulders, pushing her in the direction of the private staff bathrooms to go take a hot shower and warm back up.

she begrudgingly left you alone with the final tasks of putting out the fire, making sure the camp was clean, and then finally going off to bed. you used the rest of the water bottles on hand to put out the burning embers, kicking them with your beat up sneaker to make sure they would stop smoking. you wiped your hands on the front of your sweatshirt, and turned away from the fire to sit on one of the logs that was used as a bench to look up at the night sky.

you let out a sigh. it was pleasantly dark, the moon full overhead, stars glittering among the black ink of the night. these nights were what you loved as a kid coming to camp. you could never see the stars from home, but out here, they shone down on you almost as brightly as the sun.

you remembered izuku, from back then, how those wet green eyes glittered in the same light. you worried for him. you hoped he was okay.

a tree branch snapped off to your left, towards the woods where the camp ended and the tree line began.

you sat up straight before fumbling around in your hoodie pocket for your flashlight, getting to your feet. if it was a deer or a small critter, it would be better to shoo it off than have a young camper try to interact with it without knowing.

you took slow, methodical steps towards the tree line, listening for any other sounds from the woods other than the crunching of leaves and gravel under your own feet. you held your breath as you shined your flashlight through the leaves.

“hello?” you called into the trees, taking a few more steps forward, past the tree line and into the gaping maw of the woods. “if you’re a deer or a fox or something, just get away.”

you crunched the twigs and leaves a little harder under your feet to further scare the animal away, and then stood still. there was nothing, not even the sound of the breeze in the treetops could be heard. it was as if a blanket fell over the world and trapped you in it.

you let out a breath you didn’t know you had even been holding. the critter must have scampered away. you had barely even needed to walk into the woods for it to get scared off.

you turned and saw the light of your cabin between the trees and the leaves, but only for a split second before there was suddenly someone there.

you barely realized what your body was doing, but you thanked a god you weren’t sure you even believed in that your fight or flight kicked in. you were running as hard as your legs could pump, deeper into the forest which was frankly the wrong way but you had no choice. it felt like your ears were ringing as you felt bushes and bramble and twigs kick up around your legs and claw at your clothes.

you heard it – the looming figure, the stranger, the mystery man –  you heard him trampling towards you, heavy footfalls in the dark of night as your lungs ached for breath. he was after you and you felt like you were going to pass out from the sudden spike of fear and adrenaline.

you almost pissed yourself when you tried to hop a fallen tree only to have it grab you by the ankle and send you crashing to the forest floor, face first, your nose bashing in against the hard dirt as you screamed.

you struggled, legs flailing and body heaving as you tried to get up, but then there was a hand on the back of your neck, large and rough and gloved, pressing your face to the floor.

you were trapped.

you screamed again, and the thing’s – no, the man’s – hand tightened around the back of your neck, his fingertips pressing against your windpipe, and you froze underneath him.

“finally…” you heard a voice murmur, and it felt like fire ants had started crawling down your spinal cord.

you knew that voice. you recognized it from your nightmares. 

you said nothing as the man’s heavy hand stayed on your neck, and he shifted to press a knee into your back, permanently disabling you from moving. “finally…” he repeated himself, and your blood went cold when you heard the smile in his muffled voice, “i’ve got you. i’ve finally got you. it’s been such a long time since i’ve seen your pretty face in person, yn.”

“let me go, izuku,” you murmured right back to him, trying to lift and turn your head from the forest floor, not wanting to aggravate him more, “just let me go. this is a mistake, i can’t-”

“you denied me,” he spoke over you, gripping your neck tighter and making you wheeze and your eyes roll back, “all those years ago. do you remember? remember how i held your hand and confessed to you? i was just a loser back then. i didn’t think you thought that of me, but i was wrong.”

you opened your mouth to reply, but he leaned more of his weight into the knee shoving you down into the ground, and instead you wheezed. 

“you told me no. that you just wanted to be friends… girls who only want friends don’t go kissing other guys behind the cabins. they don’t do that. why did you do that to me? i loved you, it wasn’t fair.”

“izuku…” you wheezed out, and finally he seemed to let up, letting go of your neck and shifting off of your back to forcibly grip your shoulders and spin you so that your back was in the mud instead. it was at this moment that you tasted the familiar tang of blood; your nose had started bleeding from the impact.

you were finally met with the green eyes of your attacker, familiar and dark and crazed, barely visible in the bright moonlight and from underneath the dirty hockey mask he wore to make an attempt at concealing his identity. clearly, he knew that you recognized him, so he straightened where he was straddling your midsection to push the mask up onto his head.

he was older, and he was bigger. the scrawny kid you knew at camp as kids turned into a massive giant of a man, rippling muscle under a tattered t-shirt and faded ripped jeans that barely held together around his thighs. his freckles seemed more abundant, as did some scars on his face that you couldn’t explain. 

he studied your bleeding face in the pale moonlight, and, ever the crier, teared up at your pain and at seeing you up close for the first time in years.

he reached a hand down to swipe at the blood dripping onto your lips with a gloved thumb. “why did you say no? why didn’t you love me back? why did you make me do this to you? you’re bleeding, i didn’t mean to make you trip…”

“how did you find me?” you jerked your head away from his grip, trying to get a hold on the situation you found yourself in. “i don’t understand, why are- what did-”

“it was easy to find you.” he muttered, shaking his head and gripping your chin to keep you still. “you kept coming back to camp. your pictures are all over the camp website. every year you’d come back for sleepaway, and then you kept coming back as a counselor. it was simple. you should have expected me, i loved this camp as a kid before you broke my heart.”

he was rambling, his fingers curling into the soft, stained apples of your cheeks as he held your face up towards the night sky to make sure you were listening to him.

your chest heaved. you felt like your body was caving in on itself. he had always been there, always in the shadows. those eyes, those camera flickers… you weren’t delusional. but you were too late with that realization.

“izuku,” you coughed a little, starting to really feel suffocated by the post nasal drip of your blood in your throat from the fall, “please, i’m sorry. let me go, please don’t-“

“i’m not gonna hurt you,” he cut you off, shaking his head once again as he let go of your chin to slide his bloodied hand down your front.

your blood ran cold. “izuku, no-“

“please,” he begged you, pathetically, shifting back off of your midsection and down lower, lower, straddling your upper thighs. his hands, dirty and bloody, hovered over your chest, ghosting down your form with a wet, lovesick smile on his face. “just once, please, i-… i just need to…”

you didn’t get a chance to protest, or even think about it, because izuku was making the decision for you.

he leaned down and mashed his lips to yours. you couldn’t breathe. your hands scrambled to shove at his shoulders, your lips squeezed shut, but his own dry, cracked ones worked you open. his thick, corded biceps didn’t budge from where they caged you in, one hand on either side of your head now.

you kicked and squirmed and izuku didn’t move. he kissed you and you didn’t kiss back. he laved his tongue over your bloodied lips, slurping up the tainted re liquid as if it were wine instead.

“you taste divine…” he purred against you, a hand moving along your side before starting to tug at your waistband.

you gave one last attempt at trying to struggle, at trying to punch at his face or shove him away, but he was massive, looming over you and grabbing your flailing hands in one of his own to pin them above your head. 

“stop resisting, you’ve left me no choice!” he practically whined at you as he pinned you to the muddy floor, and you felt the involuntary reaction of your body heating up spread through your cheeks like wildfire. “i have to have you…” he murmured, licking his lips clean of your blood, and you felt your head start to swim.

“no, please…” you shook your head, the throbbing in your face from the fall finally registering, “please don’t, izuku…” “shh, you’ll like it. i can already tell.” he smiled at you, wet and soggy, before leaning back down to start kissing along your neck and jaw. his hand slid underneath your shirt, a warm, broad palm pressing into your side before sliding up to cup your breast. “no bra… amazing…” he muttered into your collarbone, toying with your nipple as you whimpered and squirmed underneath him.

you didn’t want this, you wanted to run – you had no choice but to allow him to sit up again and remove your pants and underwear in one rough go, yelping out when you heard the thin fabric of your panties tear in his grip despite your pants. he pushed your knees apart and groaned, staring at your glistening folds in the moonlight. “you’re so wet. see? i knew you loved me, depe down.”

you knew better than to argue with a brick wall.

you felt one hand ghost over your folds, making you twitch and jerk; his other hand moved to shove your shirt up to reveal your tits to the cold night air, making you shiver.

izuku was practically purring, sliding two fingers between your sopping folds as he groped your breast. “look at you. so much more pliant. i didn’t want to hurt you, see? i just wanted to show you how much i loved you, i promise.”

you opened your mouth to rebut, but all that poured out were a string of curses and whimpers as he pushed one thick digit into your twitching hole, the rough pad of his thumb drawing tight circles over your puffy clit.

you shouldn’t be feeling so good. you shouldn’t be whimpering in the dirt under him, squirming and digging your nails into the mud while you tasted your own blood on your lips. and yet, you were, keening under his touch as he pumped one, no, two fingers in and out of you, wet squelching starting to echo through the trees.

his lips were on your neck again, sucking bruise after bruise into your skin as he guided a third finger in, making you cry out from the stretch. he laughed against your ear, “enjoying yourself now? i could’ve given this to you so long ago, but you kept running. not anymore.”

a chill ran up your spine, but the fear ebbed away into pleasure as he found that spongy spot inside of your tight walls that had your eyes rolling back into your head and your arms flying to wrap around him.

he groaned, his teeth sinking into your neck as you started to crumble. you felt the coil in your stomach burn red hot, faster than you yourself could do, and your body jerked in his grasp as your high came crashing down onto you. you felt your fluids gush into the palm of his hand and splash onto the dirt floor underneath you, and you swore you could hear izuku moaning in tandem with you against your skin, as if he was getting just as much pleasure from it as you were.

he fingered you through your high before pulling his fingers out and licking them clean with a moan. you shook, eyes wide and teary, thinking he would be done – unwise of you, you came to realize, as he sat back on his heels and shoved his dirty jeans down just enough to let his heavy cock flop out, dripping with pre, so hefty it couldn’t stand on its own. you started to shake your head through the fog of your orgasm, heels digging into the dirt. “no, no, it won’t-”

“stop,” he growled, grabbing your ankle and yanking you back towards him, making you cry out in fear, “stay still. it’s gonna fit. you just need to relax, okay? can you relax?”

you were panicking again, shaking under him as he looped your twitching legs around his waist and tapped his cock against your wet pussy. you throbbed and shifted underneath him, whimpering at how the head of his cock bumped against your clit with each swipe. he was smiling again, lovesick and puppylike as he watched his cock get soaked in your juices. 

“finally…” he hummed, revering the way the fear in your eyes turned to straight panic as the tip of his cock dipped into your hole, “finally i can fill you up.”

izuku sunk himself home, and you screamed. the sting was harsh, but it wasn’t as overwhelming as the feeling of being filled in just the right way.

izuku groaned and immediately flopped over you, sinking himself as deep as he could go, lifting your legs up onto the crooks of his arms, bending you in half as he nuzzled against your shoulder. “you feel just like i imagined, so tight… i know you’re not a virgin, but you feel like one.”

you bit down on your lip, feeling yourself involuntarily clench at his words. he gasped a little, and then you felt his smile against your skin. “i’ll move now, okay? you’re gonna feel so good.”

you barely had a breath in your lungs before he was drawing his hips back and slamming himself home. you screamed into the forest, unheard by the camp, as izuku ruthlessly fucked into you. jackrabbiting and needy, he fucked you like an animal in heat, and you were getting off on it. 

the angle he had you contorted in was perfect, hitting the right spots and feeling the drag of his cockhead against your walls had your head spinning. you latched onto him, unable to find purchase in the forest floor, and he welcomed your embrace by caging you under him further.

his balls smacked heavily against your ass as he pounded you, your eyes rolling back hard into the sockets as you felt the coil in your stomach start to heat up. you were babbling, clawing at his back, digging your nails in and twitching so violently. 

izuku was moaning into your shoulder, drooling against your skin, laving his tongue along your collar bone. “fuck, fuck, please, cum for me, cum on my cock, gonna fill you up so good, please-”

listening to his moans against your ear rattled your brain and make you see white. you cried out loudly into the night air, your body pulling taut as a bowstring before you let go, feeling yourself cum all over his cock, that creamy ring of white forming almost immediately.

you felt like you were floating, but only for mere seconds. you felt his cock jump in your sopping hole, and then you were being filled to the brim with his seed, and you felt his teeth sink into your flesh.

this time, you screamed in true pain. 

he gnashed his teeth into your shoulder as he came inside you, breaking the skin and letting his mouth fill. you panted, feeling hazy and too warm, dizzy and flighty…

he lifted his head from your shoulder and swallowed the fresh blood, smiling as it dripped down his chin and landed on your lips. “that was… everything. let’s get you home.”

you felt your body be lifted soon enough, and you saw the lights of your cabin in the far distance flicker out.

[whoisneo404]

Reader not even knowing he is into guys till he meet and starts liking nick after harboring feelings for a while he randomly asks nick out while they are hanging out

New Feelings.

Summary: your friend Chris introduces you to his brother Nick, not knowing that you’ll develop feelings for him.

Tw: cursing

I don’t remember when I started feeling like this. I think from the first time I saw him something changed inside of me. It was fall, Chris wanted to go hang out at a park and said his brother will come too, when I saw Nick for the first time something clicked in my brain, maybe it was his tattoos or his messy blonde hair, either way, I was infatuated with him. I got closer to him and started to hang out alone.

Most times I find myself looking at him, staring at his blue eyes, his smile. At first it was scary, I have never felt this way towards another guy, but after a while thinking and listening to him laugh, I realized this feeling is not momentarily.

I know Nick likes guys, I know he would date someone like me, I just don’t know if he would date me. It makes me go crazy to think about him rejecting me, but I’m more scared of never telling him how much I want to be with him. I truly believe he is the most amazing human being alive, he’s funny and handsome, hard working and kind.

‘’Are you fucking listening?’’ Nick softly punches my arm. We are sitting at the same bench we were sitting the day we met, it has been a few months since that day, a lot has changed.

‘’Sorry, I was thinking.’’

‘’Yeah, like you can think. What where you thinking about?’’

‘’Do you wanna go on a date with me?’’ I say without hesitating, he looks confused.

‘’What? Is this some kind of joke?’’

‘’Of course not, why would I joke about something like this?’’

‘’A date? Aren’t you like… straight?’’ he seems nervous.

‘’I’m not.’’

‘’I didn’t know.’’

‘’Me neither… Nick, look. I like you, a lot, I can’t stop thinking about you and us being together, I’m scared of this not working out, I totally get it if you don’t feel the same way but to be honest, I was more afraid of never having the courage to tell you. So, yeah, just tell me hat you feel, no hard feelings.’’

‘’I can’t believe this. I thought you liked girls.’’

‘’I do.’’ I mutter.

‘’I know. I mean like, only girls. Whatever, what I want to say is I like you too, I thought it was obvious, I had to force myself to act a certain way so you didn’t notice it. But I guess I should have just shown my true feelings. I’d love to go on that date with you.’’ He smiles warmly at me.

‘’Really? That’s awesome.’’ I smile widely, my cheeks burn a little. ‘’I already have a plan, oh god, that’s embarrassing, I said it before I though.’’

‘’You are so cute. Tell me about this plan.’’ He laughs at me and grabs my hand softly; I smirk and quickly glance at our hands.

‘’So, I was thinking. Picnic, arcade and ice cream. At the picnic we can do cute things like draw each other or something like that.’’

‘’Oh my god, I have seen people do that all over my tiktok. We have to do it.’’

‘’Great. So, maybe this weekend? Like Saturday maybe.’’

‘’That’s good for me… Have you told Chris about this’’ he says the last part looking at our hands.

‘’No. I wanted to tell him after I made us official, so, not yet. And about the also liking boys too, I don’t think it’s necessary to come out to them, maybe I can casually drop it in one of our conversations.’’ I say calmly.

‘’Sounds great. So, when do you plan to make us official?’’ I chuckle at this.

‘’After a few dates, I want to make sure that you fall in love with me as much as I fell for you, but I think that’s impossible.’’

‘’God, you are smooth. I like that idea, having dates, with you. It sounded almost impossible to me.’’

‘’We’ll we are here now. Sorry for making you think otherwise.’’ My thumb starts to rub his hand.

‘’It’s not your fault, I’m glad you said something about it.’’

‘’Me too.’’

Even when my confession wasn’t conventional, or the most romantic one, I know my feelings for him are real, and I’ll give my best for our next couple of dates to be the best he has ever had in his life. I’m gonna make sure that he sees how good of a boyfriend I will be. I can’t wait for us to finally be together, and for me to not hide my feelings for him anymore.