#the man makes me weak in the knees for some reason don’t question it

[su4vz]

“Easy there, sunshine.”

[kissitbttr]

“my baby” you murmur softly against his skin. hands cradling both side of his face gently. “my sweet, sweet baby”

toji hates to admit how that makes his heart tremble with pure love, and how the simple act is the sole reason for the crimson color risen within his cheeks,

“that, i am” he mutters with a small smile playing on his lips, tugging you close by the waist. “you love me?”

a small gasp escapes your lips, as if you’re offended by that question. “i can’t believe you have to ask! of course i do” another kiss presses against his temple and down to his cheek bone,

he suppresses a cute giggle from it, not wanting to be embarrassed if you ever caught him letting out such sound. it’s quite fascinating how you are the only person who has a way to make him feeling flustered. as if you’re looking at a teenage boy who finally scored a date with his first high school crush,

“just making sure” toji finds comfort against your naked chest, feeling himself melt under your touch while your fingers toy with his raven haired. he frowns and lets out a boyish groan when you pull away,

“noo, noo” he whines, taking your hand before plopping it back down on top of his hair. “don’t stop. keep playing it”

a confused yet amused frown make its way towards your face, a small giggle heaves out of your mouth,

“look at you. my big boy” the nickname just sends shivers down his spine, causing his grip around your waist to tighten. he loves it when you call him that. “touchy today aren’t you?”

he responds with a hum, letting his eyes close for a while as you continue to play with his loose strands of hair. he’s so comfortable like this. being with you is his favorite place. no large house nor king sized bed could ever compare if there’s no you in it.

he’s dreamed of this for far too long. when his wife was taken away from him years ago, he didn’t think that he could find a solace in someone else’s arm anymore. he had given up on love and pour his frustrations out in a very toxic way. drowning himself in alcohol and getting into fights was his way of coping.

then you came a long,

with your pretty smile, pretty aura, pretty hair, pretty voice… pretty everything. knocked the wind out of the man, he couldn’t even form the right words when you stood in front of him.

‘s-shit—wh-what were you saying?’ he laughed nervously when he realized he was staring at you for far too long,

it was an adorable sight. you really did have some sort of power to make men weak in their knees

his heart bloomed when he heard you giggle, ‘i said… did you come here with someone?’

‘oh! n-no! not at all’ he scratched the back of his neck while looking down on his drink, ‘all alone’

‘oh—well then’ you took a seat beside him at the bar, his eyes didn’t move an inch from you. ‘guess we can be alone together’

“my sweet big boy—wouldn’t even dreamed about leaving you”

and that’s enough to make him feel at ease. to let go of the fears he had been holding back. to let go of the past that had corrupted him in more ways than one. to finally say goodbye to his long gone wife and say thank you to you instead for being here. for being so patient. for being so stubborn despite the times he had pushed you away. for not backing down because he knew how much he needed you, he just didn’t have the guts to tell you.

what’s that saying about the song you had shown him? if life is a movie, then you’re the best part?

yeah. that’s the one. but he knows deep down that you’re better than a movie.

because after all these years, toji fushiguro had finally found you peace,

and may lord helps anyone to those who will try to take you away from him,

maybe toji will remove fushiguro from his last name and take yours instead in the near future

[thesightstoshowyou]

No Questions Asked

Ledger!Joker x F Reader

- Chapter One -

(Chapter Two)

Summary: A house call puts you in the path of Gotham’s newest menace.

Warnings: Gunshot wounds, blood, descriptions of medical procedures and medical “torture,” reader is described as having longer hair because I was gripped with insanity and had to write that scene, swearing.

[A/N: This is a bit different than what I usually write! Stepping out of my comfort zone, I guess. Let me know how I did!]

The sidewalk simmers, heat rising off pavement. A weak breeze billows through the street, bringing with it the stench of refuse and exhaust. Gotham in the summer smells like literal hot garbage.

Paradise.

Your nose wrinkles and you tug your hat further down on your forehead to shield your eyes from the sun. Towering buildings offer shade, but thousands of windows reflect the glare of that accursed star at just the right angle to blind unsuspecting passerby. Even the skyscrapers here mean harm.

You weave through the crowd, calves burning with your quick, deliberate steps. The strap of your bag digs into your shoulder and sweat gathers beneath it until your shirt adheres to your skin. The relative cool of the alley you enter would be a relief if you weren’t already so sticky.

The door is unassuming; metal, distressed, a little rusted at the corners like all the others nearby save for the rectangular peep hole at eye level. You knock twice, two sharp raps in quick succession. Almost immediately, the shutter over the peep hole slides open with a clang.

You raise your chin in greeting to the pair of eyes that inspect you through the opening. Slam goes the shutter. The muted click of locks opening reaches your ears before the hinges squeal as the door is tossed open.

You don’t wait for permission from the burly man behind the door. Instead, you cross the threshold and descend the worn stairs two at a time. An annoyed sigh leaves your lips when the stuffy basement air presses into your already overheated skin. You’d think these rich assholes could at least afford some a/c.

Rossi meets you in the doorway. His uneasy expression immediately sets you on edge and you worry the urgency of the situation had not been properly conveyed over the phone. He gives you a look before you step into the room, a glance that says, ‘Don’t ask questions.’

He must think you’re an idiot. You could not have made it in this job for as long as you have by allowing your curiosity to speak for you.

It immediately becomes apparent what Rossi meant when you enter. The low ceiling is dotted here and there with aging, incandescent bulbs that bathe the room in sickly yellow. At the center of the room is a round, makeshift “conference” table littered with bloody paper towels and rags.

A few goons you don’t recognize hover uselessly around another slumped in a fold out chair, the reason you’d been called here on such short notice. He’s vaguely familiar, a distant relative of Maroni’s—Ronny Something. He’s clammy and pale, his scarlet coated fingers pressed limply to the wound in his shoulder.

However, what draws your attention and raises your hackles is the man seated in the corner atop an overturned box. His legs are spread wide and he hunches over them, elbows resting on his knees, fingers clad in purple leather and absently fiddling with a pocket knife. Dark green hair hangs like oily curtains next to a grease-painted face. Stained mostly white with blacked out eyes and a curling red grin, it’s apparently supposed to be a crude imitation of a clown. Above him, the light bulb flickers, throwing him in and out of shadow, but you can still make out the sharp eyes trained directly on you.

You don’t ask. Never do. That rule had been made abundantly clear. Instead you stride across the room and shoo the henchmen aside. Bending at the waist, you pull Ronny’s hand away from his shoulder and click your tongue as blood gushes from two distinct bullet holes.

“I was told these were grazes,” you start as you straighten to shoot a glare at Rossi. “There’s at least two slugs still in there. I’m gonna have to call the doc. He needs anesthetic and blood and other shit to keep him from going into shock. I don’t have the tools—

“Do it,” dares a sing-song voice. Startled, you turn to face the man in the corner. He’s smiling now, yellow teeth peeking between red, his upturned cheeks pockmarked and twisted. You realize the paint covers thick scars that stretch away from his lips like a macabre extension of his grin. The intensity in his gaze is difficult to hold so you don’t, instead glancing at Rossi, the unspoken question of, ‘Who the fuck does this weirdo think he is?’ written all over your face.

“No, no, no, no don’t look at him. Look at me.” Even with the weird, warbled inflection of his voice, there’s authority in his tone and an unspoken threat should you disobey. Brows knitting into a frown, you do as you’re told, and your head twists back to meet the eyes of the clown in the corner. The air in the room is thick and heavy and it’s no longer because of the heat. You can barely even hear the other men breathe.

“I’m a nurse. I don’t have the expertise necessary to perform surgery.” Not entirely accurate these days, but he doesn’t need to know that. “He could die, and then my head would wind up on a plate.”

“I like your head…where it’s at.” His own head shakes a little with his words and a pink tongue darts out to swipe across painted lips. Finally, he stands. Pinching the knife between thumb and forefinger, he slips the blade into an inside pocket. Gripping the lapels of his purple jacket, he gives them an exaggerated shake. His movements are erratic and cartoonish and you can’t stop your nervous little backwards half-step.

‘Who the hell are you?’ The question sits poised on the tip of your tongue, but you don’t let it free. Instead, you grit your teeth as the…man saunters over to Ronny and claps a hand on his uninjured shoulder. The movement jars Ronny enough to pull a pained cry from his mouth.

“Little, uh-“ the clown snaps his fingers like he’s trying to remember something, then makes a grabbing motion like he’s pulling the information out of the air, “Ronny here has faith in your skills. Don’t you, Ronny?”

Weak, but hasty, Ronny nods as though he’s trying to placate the other man. In response, the clown spreads his arms, palm up, eyebrows raised as if to say, ‘See? Told ya’ so.’ Voice a deep growl, he sweeps one arm in front of him and says, “The floor is yours.”

None of the men speak up. There’s no protest, not even a scoff. The only sounds are the flickering bulb and Ronny’s haggard gasps.

You don’t glance over your shoulder at Rossi. It is clear to you now that there has been some sort of shift in power and this clown…this man is in now in charge. And questioning orders is definitely not in your job description.

“Well, that’s fuckin’ great,” you sigh. The man chuckles, high and airy. “Get him on the table,” you snap at the two goons hovering nearby. After a second of hesitation, they quickly comply and hoist a blubbering Ronny onto the dirty tabletop until he’s flat on his back, his legs dangling.

Heart rate pulsing in your ears, you whip off your ball cap and toss it away. Hurriedly, you gather your locks into a messy bun before tossing your bag onto the table next to poor Ronny’s shivering form. The zipper is so loud in the tense silence, the rustle of bandages and the clink of instruments a cacophony. Unfortunately, there’s no sink to be found, so you settle for hand sanitizer.

“You’re gonna be okay, Ronny,” you tell the man staring up at you as you snap on a pair of gloves. Fear and pain twist his expression and you can tell he wants to protest, but won’t dare. It makes you wonder what the man in the makeup is capable of to inspire such fear in hardened criminals.

Scissors make short work of the bloodied shirt. With gauze and sterile water, you clean away dried gore so you can properly inspect the wounds. You note one graze along the bicep, a bullet buried in the deltoid, and another lodged just under the clavicle.

“If there’s any nerve or artery or organ or bone damage, I won’t be able to repair it. He needs actual surgery.” You shoot a withering look at the clown who makes a show of sucking in air through his teeth as though he’s concerned. You don’t miss the grin tugging at his scarred lips. “I can get the bullets out and do my best to stop the bleeding. You two,” you nod at the unnamed henchmen, “Will have to hold him.”

Ronny whimpers, the sweat pouring off his brow mirroring your own. You want to complain about just how not sterile this space is, how Ronny is probably going to die of an infection even if you get him stabilized, but you bite your tongue and focus on the task at hand.

You watch the process as though you are suspended just outside your body: Insert IV, start fluid, give what little pain meds you have on hand, sterilize the forceps, clean the injuries, bodily hold down a thrashing, screaming Ronny while you dig out the slugs, slap him awake and tell him to man up, hold pressure, stop the bleeding, suture the wounds closed.

“Keep this,” you shove the bag of normal saline into the hands of Goon Number One, “Above his head.” You turn to a stone-faced Rossi and solemnly tell him, “Doc needs to see him.” You fill a syringe with antibiotics, amazed by how steady your hands are. Ronny barely flinches when you jam the needle in the meat of his hip.

Snapping off your gloves, you release an exhale that trembles on its way out. On autopilot, you turn back to your bag and reach for the blood pressure cuff when, without warning, leather-clad fingers wrap around your wrist. Jolting, you stumble back into the table to put an arm’s length between you and the clown—where the fuck had he come from—but he closes the distance with one, bouncy step.

Just like that, you’re snapped back to reality. Now firmly seated in your body, you are startlingly aware of how hot everything is: The air, your sweaty palms, his chest against yours, his breath on your lips, your blazing cheeks, the stares of the other men burning into the sides of your head.

“Don’t—

“Shhh, shh, shh, c’mere,” the clown murmurs as he grips you by the back of the neck. You stiffen and push back against his hand in a subconscious effort to put distance between you, but fall still when his opposite hand comes to rest on your neck. His expression is unreadable, the look in his eyes a mixture of amusement and something a bit more menacing. You don’t want to search too hard, but fear of what will happen should you look away keeps your gaze on his.

White paint cracks along the creases in his forehead when his brows raise. “You’ve just got a little….” He presses a thumb to the corner of your mouth and drags it upward. You feel the slickness smearing across your dewy skin, too thick to be spit or sweat. Blood, you wager. Judging by the satisfied smile that spreads across his face and the contented hum he emits, you guess there’s a red half-grin now curling away from your mouth.

An imitation of his own.

You barely manage to contain the flinch when the clown raises his hand to your crown. Fingers dip into your hair and feel around for the hair tie keeping it piled atop your head. Three quick tugs sees your locks cascading around your shoulders. Both of his hands then come up to ruffle and shake until it’s all a wild, frizzy mess.

You don’t know whether to be afraid or baffled, and you realize this is entirely the point. Keep others guessing and unable to predict your next move. There’s fear in uncertainty.

The intensity of the moment, the frantic fluttering of your heart, the stifling heat of the room has you seconds away from begging for mercy, something you’ve never done before. Even the slouch of his shoulders—the way he almost curls over you—seems designed to make you panic. You swallow thickly and open your mouth to break the awkward, terrible silence when he interrupts:

“Why don’t you…run along, hm?” He offers you your ball cap and, tentatively, you take it. The clown shuffles back the tiniest inch and you suck in a gasping breath, your heart like some kind of trapped bird ricocheting against your ribs as you hastily whirl around to pack up your instruments. Fuck Ronny’s blood pressure. Doc can handle it. You must get out of here.

You don’t look over your shoulder as you quickly stride from the room, but lilting words reach you in the hallway and stop you dead in your tracks. A chill races up your spine.

“See you soon!”

The clown’s parting sentiment.

You’re up the stairs and out the door before Rossi can catch up. “Who the fuck was that?” you snarl, whipping around so fast your bag smacks against your sweaty back.

“Are you livin’ under a rock?” he shoots back, but any bite there might have been in his words has been shaken from him. He’s pale, you notice, obviously disturbed by what you had to do to Ronny.

“Yes!” you exclaim, throwing your arms up in the air. “Yes I am! I keep my head so far down, I’m underground.”

Rossi shakes his head and huffs a humorless laugh. “Turn on the news, then. That oughta answer your questions.”

**

Begrudgingly, you do as you’re told.

It doesn’t take long to put a moniker to the painted face splashed all over your television screen:

The Joker.

Maybe it’s time to pay more attention to current events.

[rewiringtoheal]

This Pain Is Temporary

Anna x Fem!Reader

1/?

He's Just Not That Into You AU

Summary: I was watching this movie and had a lot of what if questions. What if the main cast actually all communicated with each other? What if Anna actually had some character development? What if Reader was a variation of a female Conor Barry who got a clue? And how would these differences lead to Anna genuinely falling in love with Reader.

warnings: very slowburn, angst, worse before better, eventual fluff and smut.

You feel used. This person that you love…loved?? You aren’t really sure anymore of your feelings toward Anna. It was never simple with her. And truthfully, you wish you could go back to your blissful ignorance.

 You had been so thrilled when she told you she was finally ready to take the next step with you. A real relationship with the girl of your dreams. Having your heartfelt love confession be returned and then making love for hours was more than you ever could have hoped for. 

You now knew it was all a lie. And that Anna was a very skilled actor. In your excitement you had raced home the next morning to tell your best buddy Alex and his new girlfriend GiGi the news. After showing them a picture of Anna and you. The night of bliss quickly turned sour; GiGi hesitantly told you that Anna was the same woman that had a very recent affair with her best friend's husband. And everything the past few months had started to make sense. How Anna would constantly ignore your calls but somehow always be available when she needed her emotional needs met. And finding out that the only reason she wanted a relationship with you was because the man of her dreams wouldn’t leave his wife was heartbreaking. How could you be so stupid? And how could you be so blind to the type of person Anna really was.

You felt a hand squeezing your knee bringing you back to the world around you. You  see GiGi’s hand retreating and her eyes filled with sorrow. You muster up a strained smile.

“Well, at least I had my dream girl for a moment even if it wasn’t real. Looking back, I kinda see now that she treated me like shit but I was so lost in her. I can’t believe I was so blind to her selfishness. And now this…I don’t think I ever really knew her at all,” you say somberly.  

Alex let out a deep sigh, “Dude I don’t really know what to say. She did really shitty things but maybe she's not a shitty person. The moments you had together weren’t all fake. The parts of herself she showed you are probably real. And you can love those parts and still be hurt that she lied about her feelings for you.”

You give a weak chuckle, “You’re right..but I don’t know how to deal with this. I do still love her even if she used me. I see it so clearly now. I’m the back up plan. The person she really wanted hurt her so she chose the safe option.”

Gigi looked at you, her eyes filling with sorrow, “Sometimes people don’t know what they have until it's gone. She is making awful decisions and it’s hurting everyone around her. Deal with this by loving yourself first. I know it's hard but she doesn’t appreciate you. And only wants you when she has no one else.”

That was hard to hear but Gigi was right. You need to take care of yourself. For months you have been putting all of your energy into Anna. Being there for her emotionally, picking up her dry cleaning, giving her rides, and loving her to the best of your ability. All to realize that she never really cared about you, not even as a friend. A friend wouldn’t play with your feelings like this.  

You continue to chat with your friends for a little while longer. Eventually you grow too sad and too tired to keep up the conversation. You excuse yourself for the night and head up to your bedroom. Not in the mood to do your night time routine you just chuck off your clothes, put your cellphone on your night stand and cuddle under the covers. 

Your mind keeps turning in circles as you lay there. The happiness you had felt earlier today has turned into a deep sadness. And for the first time since Gigi told you about Anna you allow yourself to cry. As silent tears move down the contours of your face you burrow into your pillow; just praying to yourself that you can fall asleep. Anything to stop the pain. 

You briefly wonder if Gigi’s friend Janine is in the same state you are right now. You know more than likely she is worse off than you. Janine's entire life is in shambles. Her husband is awful no doubt about it but you just can’t wrap your head around Anna getting involved with a married man. Nothing makes sense anymore but maybe you never had a clue to begin with.

[bunnylovesani]

Daddy Issues

(This is what I imagine him looking like in this fic)

Content warnings: MDNI, reader has daddy issues, 20 year age gap, Anakin is your best friend’s dad, drinking, fingering, dirty talk, general smut with a bit of fluff

WC: 2.6k

You and Leia met in your first year of college and your friendship quickly blossomed. Despite being from the same town, you’d never bumped into each other. If you had, you’re sure you would’ve remembered him. The first time you’d met him was Christmas, 4 years ago; it was your first time coming round to the Skywalker residence and all you knew was that Leia was raised by a single dad, who was now in his 40s. The moment you laid eyes on him, you were fascinated. He had dark blonde hair which curled into golden ringlets at the ends and a mysterious quality about him you were sure made the women weak at the knees- how he’d managed to stay single for most of his life was beyond you.

Despite your fervent initial attraction to him, you tried your best to put all of it aside. Besides the obvious reasons to restrain yourself, he was also the first positive male figure you’d had in your life. He was a damn good father; always present in Leia’s life and, since you two were joined at the hip, by extension yours too. You ignored every sign, every impulse, every sizzling moment of tension that came between you two- tension you naturally assumed was one sided- he’s a decent, respectable man after all.

You had it all under control- until you received a call confirming the graduate program you’d applied for months ago had been accepted. The subsequent week was spent getting daydrunk while hesitantly packing your entire life into a van full of brown boxes- or rather, directing Leia to do it for you since you were too inebriated. It all boiled down to your final night; one last night in the suburbs you’d felt suffocated by your entire life before you moved to the big city to start your shiny new life.

So why did you feel sad? You suspected you knew the reason but spent the better half of an evening denying it and battling the growing urge to pay him a visit. Eventually, when the reality that you were about to leave him forever sunk in, you found your feet taking you out the door of their own volition. Preparing to ambush him with the help of some liquid courage you’d choked down prior to leaving, you rung the doorbell of his house for what you thought may be the last time.

“Oh, hey honey. Leia just left to spend the night at her boyfriend’s house, you just missed her. I thought you’d already said your goodbyes?”. He innocently questions as he opens the door and lets you in.

“I know, it’s you I came to say goodbye to.” You say anxiously, staring at him intensely through your lashes.

“I see, I’m honoured.” He smiles and approaches you, pulling you into a hug. “Good luck with everything sweetheart, stay safe and above all- remember to have fun! Life passes you by in an instant and one day you’ll wake up as old as I am and kick yourself for not grabbing every opportunity you had.”

“Funny you say that, Sir. That’s the exact mantra I’ve adopted recently. Fuck it, right?” You help yourself to the glass of whiskey he was holding out of his hand and take a sip.

“Can I sit with you for a little while?” You plop onto his cushioned couch before he can reply.

“Erm, yeah of course, make yourself at home.” He says welcomingly, though with a perplexed expression on his slightly wrinkled face. “Are you okay?” He wonders if there’s a reason you’re acting so strange. You don’t usually drink.

“I’m great, thank you Sir.” You bat your lashes. “Just feeling sentimental with the circumstances and all.”

“How many times have I said, call me Anakin. I know I’m old but after so many years I’d say we’re on a first name basis.” He chuckles, taking a seat beside you on the sofa, keeping a respectable distance. “I know I’m nothing much to you but I really do think of you and Leia as my girls. I’m so proud of everything you’ve accomplished.” He says endearingly, smiling at you kindly.

That’s when you’re reminded of the reason you came here tonight. You had every intention of telling him how you truly felt, how you’d had a raging crush on him from the moment you met him- and now that you might never see him again, you saw no reason why you shouldn’t act on those feelings.

But hearing him compare you to his daughter filled a hole you felt inside you ever since your father abandoned you- while simultaneously making you feel sick to your stomach.

You stared into his warm eyes, encased with crows feet and accompanied by two prominent creases on his forehead. You shouldn’t find a man of his age so attractive but you do.

“You know, I don’t think you’re old.” You state simply.

“What?” He asks somewhat confused by your meaning.

“You said one day I’ll wake up as old as you. I don’t think you’re old at all. If anything, you’re in your prime.” You look away. “You’re not nothing to me either.”

He looks visibly stunned, though he tries to mask it by refilling a glass of whiskey, the brown liquid almost spilling everywhere.

“Right back at you, kid. Well I’m sure you’ve got a lot of packing to do so I won’t keep you. You need a ride?” He shuffles in his seat.

“No. Not the kind of ride you’re thinking of anyway.” A wave of boldness overcomes you and you feel the alcohol burning through your veins as you shuffle closer to him.

“Uh, I think that whiskey’s gone straight to your head. Why don’t I get you some water?” He’s about to get up but you grab him by the hand and force him to stay seated, holding onto it longer than necessary.

“You know how I feel about you Anakin. I know you know.” You stare deep into his mature blue eyes as his Adam’s apple bobs up and down with an apprehensive gulp.

“Now that’s enough young lady. You absolutely should not be thinking about me in that way. I’m almost twice your age.” He sternly warns you and you can’t help but wince. The way he’s scolding you is triggering some deep rooted daddy issues. You knew you always had them to some extent but you never knew just how bad they were until you met Anakin.

“I dont mean to make you uncomfortable, I just couldn’t hold it back anymore. I’ll leave right now if you want me to, you’ll never see me again. Just tell me you don’t feel anything towards me and I’ll be on my way.” You’re huddled over him with your legs on the sofa, hand slowly inching its way towards his thigh.

A flash of conflicting emotions run through his eyes- he’s obviously embarrassed, perhaps shocked - though you find it hard to believe he had no clue at all- but there’s something else. He’s debating with himself, you can see the cogs whirring in his mind.

“I can’t say that.” He meets your gaze. “I care about you a lot, you know that. Which is why you need to leave. You’re not in the right state of mind.” He gets up again but you pull him down and climb onto his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“I have been in love with you for 4 years, Anakin. You are my every waking thought. I know it’s wrong and you’d never be with me but I can’t control myself. If I can’t have you forever, let me have just this one night- please.” You wait for him to object to the way you’re sitting on him but to your surprise, he doesn’t.

“Alright, honey.” He grumbles softly after a little while, looking at you with a subdued expression that conveyed both concern and understanding. “Alright, if that’s what you want, I’ll give you what you want. I’m yours for the night.”

You sit there, stunned. You were fully expecting him to kick you out of the house and tell Leia everything. You were expecting anything other than him giving in. Is he just taking pity on you and thinks this will help you get over your daddy issues? He knows you have them. Or is he as sick and twisted as you are?

“Can…can I…” You lean in, pressing your fingertips against his lips.

“Leave it all to me sweetheart. Daddy will make it all better.” He wastes no time taking your hands into his own and kissing your fingertips softly, before pressing his lips against yours.

You’re too stunned to react so you allow him to kiss your motionless lips, your eyes still wide open in disbelief. You’d never been so grateful to someone for taking the lead.

“Close those pretty eyes for me baby, you’re safe now.” He kisses your eyelids softly and his gentle caresses awaken a deep urge within you.

You grab at his collared shirt, loosening his tie and unbuttoning it. “Been working more late nights at the office?” You mumble into his lips as you push the crisp white shirt off his shoulders, leaving his muscles exposed.

“That’s because I have two women in my life who bleed me dry.” He chuckles and you smile at the memory; he’s shelled out for you on more than one occasion- from plane tickets and birthday gifts to a new MacBook for college because your one broke and you couldn’t afford another since you’d been fired from your waitressing job- he even agreed that that guy deserved to get a drink thrown in his face for grabbing you. He said that if he were there, he would’ve done worse.

Before you freefall into a psychoanalytical hole, Anakin rips your skirt off - it’s as if he can hear your mind working overtime. You gasp a little as he kneads the fat of your ass cheeks roughly, guiding you until you’re grinding against him. You can feel him getting hard, and oh did it feel big. You’d stolen subtle glances at his crotch on numerous occasions, contemplating what it might look like, what colour the tip might be, what it might taste like. You couldn’t bare to be left in the dark any longer so you reached for his belt and impatiently started undoing it- but you were stopped by his large hands cupping yours.

“Not just yet princess. I wanna take my time with you.” He whispered coarsely and the feeling of his warm breath on your neck sent shivers down your spine. Before you knew it, he had spun you around so that you were sitting on his lap with your back facing his front. He traced his tongue in big open kisses along your neck while his hands trailed up and down your thighs, before he hooked his fingers around your panties.

“Lets get these off shall we?” He purred and his words sent sparks straight down to your core. He lowered your underwear only down to your knees, before spreading your legs a little, his hand placed under one of your thighs to keep it up. You felt the cold air hit you and knew instantly that you were soaked.

You breathing was reduced to short little pants as his fingers reached the inner folds of your pussy, and it felt like every caress touched your soul. You started squirming about in his lap as two of his fingers slid into you.

“Goddamn… oh baby, I didnt even mean for that to happen but you’re just so wet they slipped right in.” You mewled at his lustful words as he curled his fingers inside you, rubbing your clit with the base of his thumb.

“Oh Ani…ah fuck!.” You cried. “Anakin!”

“Yes sweetheart, what is it?” Gaining speed, he grabbed your cheeks with his free hand and turned your head to force you to look at him but you were too stimulated to respond.

“Do you hear how wet you are? And here I thought you were a good girl.” He maintains eye contact and your cheeks flush at the lewd sounds coming from your core. You take a glance and see his hand is glistening with your arousal, wetness squelching as it pours down to the Rolex on his wrist.

“Aah…I, I’m sorry daddy! Mm can’t help it” You manage to squeal out, embarassed by how wet and helpless he made you.

“Don’t you dare apologise sweetheart. Daddy loves how wet this pussy gets. Is this all for me?”

“Yes, yes Sir it’s all for you- mm all yours!” You moan as you feel your climax fast approaching. “Please can I cum? Pleasee daddy!”

“Yes princess, cum for me.” He pumps his fingers in and out of you at such a tempo you have to hold onto his arms for stability.

As if someone opened a dam, your orgasm washes over you and you let out a stupified scream- you wanted to say his name but your brain is so scrambled all you can manage is a mumbled moan of incoherent syllables.

“Such a good girl baby, well done honey.” He plants kisses all over your cheek and neck as your heart rate climbs down.

As you come down from your high, the realisation of what you’re doing dawns on you. As if he could read your mind, he takes your face into his hands.

“What’s going on in that beautiful mind of yours? If you think you’ll regret it, tell me now. I don’t think I could handle it if we made love and you woke up regretting it.” He speaks softly, as if being too harsh might scare you away.

“No, no it’s not you.” You quickly respond. “I just feel a little cheap. I don’t ever have one night stands so I’m kinda out of my depth here… and the guilty thoughts about Leia creeping up on me don’t help either.”

“Hey, you’re not cheap.” You scoff at his attempt to reassure you. “Stop that, I mean it. I have nothing but the utmost respect for you regardless of the outcome of this. But…I mean I’m out of my depth here too. If we’re being honest, I haven’t had sex in years.” Anakin admits and your jaw drops. How could a man this damn fine not get laid for that long?

“It’s a personal choice.” He corrects before you jump to any conclusions about what might be wrong with him. “I don’t like one night stands either and if I’m not in love, I have no real interest in sex.” Your heart leaps at the insinuation- if he’s willing to sleep with you, that must mean…right?

“So let’s not have a one night stand then.” He continues and your heart drops. I guess you thought wrong.

“Let’s keep seeing each other. I ache all over at the thought of this being the last time I see you. I need you in my life. I don’t care if it’s wrong, I don’t care what people say. Leia will come round to the idea eventually, she has to.”

“I love you.” You reply a little too quickly, staring at him with so much admiration you think your heart might burst.

“I love you too, my sweet girl.”

Part 2

[itsgiovanna]

playing for love (chapter 6)

pairing: fem!character x mason mount

summary: injured and lost, mason mount begins his recovery with the help of adeline alderidge, a tough yet brilliant physiotherapist with secrets of her own. he becomes determined to break through the walls adeline has built around herself. but some wounds don't heal easily, and the closer they get, the more mason realizes she might need saving just as much as he does.

notes: it took a while but here it is! brace yourselves for some slow burning love hehe 🤍 also, comment if you want to be on the next tag list!

word count: 3.7k

warnings: nothing but fluff.

next: chapter 7 (soon)

tag list: @avalentina

Mason exhaled sharply as he finished another set of exercises, rolling his shoulders before leaning back against the couch. “Two weeks in, and I still feel like an old man.” he muttered, reaching for the water bottle beside him.

Adeline, standing with her arms crossed, glanced at him with little sympathy. “Maybe if you stopped complaining and actually focused, you’d feel less like one.”

He scoffed, taking a sip of water. “I am focusing.”

She arched an eyebrow. “Sure.”

Mason shook his head, setting the bottle down. “You know, you’re a real hard-ass.”

Adeline didn’t react. “That’s my job.”

“Yeah, but I bet you’re not like this all the time.” he said, tilting his head as he studied her. “Like, what do you even do outside of torturing me?”

She barely glanced at him. “You’re not that special, Mount. I ‘torture’ other people, too.”

He let out a short laugh. “Right. But seriously, what do you do when you’re not here?”

Adeline sighed, clearly reluctant to entertain this. “Why does it matter?”

“Because I feel like I know nothing about you,” he pointed out. “And I don’t think that’s fair, considering you know every single weakness in my knee.”

That earned him a slight twitch of her lips, but she covered it quickly.

Mason smirked, encouraged. “So? What’s the last film you watched?”

“Something animated, probably.” Adeline exhaled through her nose, shaking her head.

“Animated?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Yes.” she said simply, jotting something down in her notes. “I like them.”

A slow grin spread across his face. “Right, so you’re one of those people who cries at Toy Story 3.”

“Like you didn’t.” She shot him a sharp look.

“I never said that.” Mason laughed, caught off guard.

Adeline shook her head, but he caught the way the corners of her mouth twitched. It was the closest thing to a smile he had seen from her in two weeks, and for some reason, it felt like a small victory.

But, Mason wasn’t done yet.

“Alright, next question.” he said, shifting on the couch as she reset the resistance band for his next exercise. “Favourite food?”

Adeline didn’t even glance up. “Why?”

“Because, I need to know whether or not I can trust your taste.” he said seriously.

“I don’t know. Pasta, I guess.” She let out a slow breath.

He nodded in approval. “Alright, safe choice.”

She rolled her eyes. “Great. I passed your test.”

“Another one.” he continued, ignoring her pointed look. “You’re in a pub, right? What’s your go-to drink?”

Adeline hesitated, adjusting the band in her hands. “Martini.”

Mason grinned. “Classic.”

“Are you done interrogating me now?” She ignored him.

“One more.” He considered.

Adeline shot him a look. “Mason—”

“C’mon, Adeline.” he pressed.

“Fine.” She sighed.

He leaned back slightly, studying her. “What’s something that always makes you smile?”

For the first time, Adeline faltered. Just for a second. She opened her mouth, as if she had an answer, but then quickly shook her head.

“You’re out of time, Mount.” she said, cutting him off before he could push further. “Back to work.”

Mason studied her for a moment, sensing there was more to her than she let on.

But, before he could say anything else, her phone buzzed loudly on the table. Adeline glanced at it quickly and frowned.

“Stella?” she said, her tone sharp with concern.

Mason wasn’t trying to eavesdrop, but he didn’t have to. She was standing right there, pacing slightly as she listened.

“What?” Adeline stopped mid-step, pressing her palm against her forehead. “No, no, of course. Thank you for calling me. Is she okay?”

Mason straightened slightly at that, his grip tightening around his phone.

Adeline let out a sharp breath, nodding to herself. “Yeah, I’ll figure something out. Thanks for taking care of her, Ella.” A pause. “I know. I will.”

She hung up with a sigh, rubbing her temple before finally meeting his gaze.

“What’s going on?” Mason asked, setting his phone down.

Adeline hesitated, then exhaled. “There’s a storm—like, a bad one. It’s hitting the whole city. Stella just called to tell me the roads are a mess, and they’re advising people to stay home.”

Mason frowned, glancing toward the window. The rain was hammering against the glass in thick sheets, and the wind had picked up, making the trees outside sway aggressively.

Adeline tucked her phone away and grabbed her jacket. “I need to go.”

Mason’s frown deepened. “You can’t go with this weather.”

“I have to, Mason.” she argued, already slipping her arms through the sleeves. “Lily’s waiting for me.”

Mason stood up. “Adeline, be serious. It’s dangerous out there.”

“She needs me.”

“And she needs you safe.” he shot back. “You think she’d want you driving through a bloody storm just to prove a point?”

Adeline froze for a second, like the thought hadn’t fully settled in yet.

Mason sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Look, I get it. You don’t like feeling out of control, but this isn’t about that. It’s one night. Stay here. Lily is safe with Stella, and in the morning, when the roads are clear, you go home.”

She shook her head. “I don’t want to intrude—”

“You won’t.” Mason cut her off. “I have a guest room. Use it.”

Adeline hesitated, chewing on the inside of her cheek. He could see her brain working, trying to find another way.

Mason softened his tone. “Adeline, c’mon. You know I’m right.”

“Fine. Just for tonight.” She exhaled sharply, running a hand through her hair. Finally, she let her shoulders drop.

“Good. I’ll set up the guest room.” Mason nodded, relieved.

“Didn’t think you’d be so insistent.” Adeline gave him a long look, then smirked slightly.

“Yeah, well. Maybe I just don’t want to be responsible for my physiotherapist getting struck by lightning.” Mason shrugged, turning toward the hallway.

(…)

Adeline sat at the table, arms crossed, watching Mason move around the kitchen with an ease that surprised her. He was focused, stirring a simmering pot on the stove, occasionally glancing at her with that annoyingly charming smirk of his.

She had no idea what to do with this version of him — the one who wasn’t being difficult, wasn’t pushing back against therapy, wasn’t rolling his eyes when she told him to do another set of exercises. Instead, he was cooking. For her.

And worse? He was good at it.

“I didn’t take you for someone who actually cooks.” she said, trying to fill the silence.

Mason glanced over his shoulder. “Why? Because I’m a footballer?”

“Something like that.” She shrugged.

“Wow. Judging me already.” He scoffed, tossing freshly chopped basil into the sauce.

Adeline rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t ignore the way the kitchen smelled incredible — garlic, tomatoes, basil, something rich and warm.

“What exactly are you making?” she asked, shifting in her seat.

Mason’s smirk deepened. “Pasta.”

At first, she didn’t think much of it. But then, something clicked. Her brows pulled together.

“Wait…” She narrowed her eyes. “You did that on purpose.”

“Did what?” He stirred the sauce, completely unfazed.

“My favorite food.” she accused. “You remembered.”

Mason hesitated just slightly before turning off the stove. “Maybe.”

Adeline stared at him, unsure how to respond to that. He wasn’t flirting — not really. There was no teasing lilt in his voice, no smugness like he was expecting her to swoon over the fact that he remembered some small, insignificant thing about her.

And that was the problem. He wasn’t trying. He was just… being Mason.

“Still doesn’t mean I trust you with it.” She looked away, suddenly feeling the need to regain control.

“Fair. But you’ll see.” Mason laughed.

(…)

Adeline twirled the pasta on her fork, eyeing Mason skeptically before taking a bite.

She chewed slowly. Too slowly.

Mason leaned forward, elbows on the table, watching her with a smirk. “Well?”

She swallowed. Paused.

“It’s… edible.” she said, deliberately neutral.

Mason scoffed, feigning offense. “Edible? That’s all I get?”

She took another bite, betraying herself. It was good. More than good, actually. The kind of warm, comforting food she hadn’t had time to cook for herself in years. But admitting that felt dangerous, like giving Mason the upper hand in a game she wasn’t sure she was playing.

“You like it.” He grinned knowingly.

“I didn’t say that.” Adeline huffed.

“You didn’t have to.”

Before she could argue, a deafening crack of thunder shook the house.

Adeline jumped. It was instinct, her body’s automatic reaction, the way her fingers curled slightly against the table.

Mason noticed.

“You good?”

She straightened, forcing a shrug. “It’s just a storm.”

He didn’t press, just tilted his head like he was filing that information away.

Then, as if on cue, the lights flickered — once, twice — before going out completely.

The room was plunged into darkness.

Adeline exhaled sharply. “Oh, c’mon.”

“Perfect.” Mason muttered.

For a moment, neither of them moved. The only sounds were the rain hammering against the windows and the distant rumble of thunder rolling through the sky.

“Do you have candles?” Adeline shifted, trying to adjust to the darkness.

“Yeah, I think—”

She took a step.

So did he.

They collided.

It wasn’t just a light bump. She practically stumbled into him, and suddenly, Mason’s hands were at her waist, steadying her, and her palms were pressed against his chest.

A beat of silence.

They weren’t moving.

Adeline’s pulse skittered.

It was ridiculous — completely unintentional — but for a moment, all she could focus on was the solid warmth of him, the way his breath hitched slightly, the way they were close. Too close.

“Uh—” Mason started, but his voice was quieter now, uncertain.

Adeline swallowed, stepping back immediately. “Sorry.”

“Yeah, no, it’s—” He cleared his throat. “Let me find those candles.”

She exhaled, rubbing her temples as he moved away, his presence still somehow lingering in the space between them.

Within a minute, Mason returned, striking a match. The small flame flickered to life, casting a soft glow as he lit the candles and set them on the table.

The warm, golden light illuminated the room — and her.

Mason glanced up and… didn’t look away.

Adeline’s face was turned slightly, her features softened by the candlelight, the sharp lines of her usual guarded expression smoothed into something quieter.

He caught himself staring.

Look away, idiot.

He didn’t.

Instead, he shifted, rubbing the back of his neck, forcing a smirk. “Well, at least now I can see the exact moment you admit my pasta is amazing.”

Adeline’s gaze flicked to him, and for the first time all night, she almost — almost — smiled.

(…)

The guest room was far nicer than she expected. Warm-toned walls, soft lighting, and a neatly made bed that looked far too inviting. The duvet was thick and plush, extra pillows stacked against the headboard, and there was even a folded blanket at the foot of the bed. It was obvious Mason had put effort into making it comfortable for her.

Still, comfort didn’t settle the unease sitting in her chest.

Adeline sat on the edge of the bed, exhaling slowly. The rain lashed against the windows, the wind howled through the streets, and every few minutes, a deep rumble of thunder shook the house. She curled her fingers around the duvet, grounding herself as another crack of lightning split the sky outside.

She wasn’t scared of storms. Not really.

But she hated the way they made her feel — small, vulnerable.

And tonight, the vulnerability was doubled.

It was the first night she had ever spent away from Lily. She knew she was safe with Stella, but the distance gnawed at her, the absence of her daughter’s tiny weight beside her unfamiliar and disorienting. She couldn’t count the number of times Lily had snuck into her bed in the middle of the night, curling up against her for warmth.

Now, Adeline was the one in need of warmth.

She tugged at the hem of her shirt, regretting her choice of clothing. She hadn’t exactly planned on sleeping over at Mason Mount’s house. She had left her flat in a simple long-sleeved top and leggings, something comfortable enough to work in but definitely not warm enough for this storm. The power was still out, and the temperature in the house had dropped, the cold air creeping through the walls.

She got up, searching through the drawers in the guest room, but they were empty. Not even a spare blanket. Her fingers twitched at her sides. She really, really didn’t want to ask Mason for anything.

But she was freezing.

Adeline sighed, dragging a hand down her face before stepping out of the room. Mason’s door was slightly ajar, candlelight flickering through the gap. She hesitated for a moment before lightly rapping her knuckles against the wood.

“Mason, do you have—”

Her words caught in her throat.

Mason stood near his dresser, his back turned to her, his broad shoulders illuminated by the soft, golden light. And he wasn’t wearing a shirt.

Adeline had seen plenty of athletes shirtless before — she worked in physiotherapy, it came with the job — but this was different.

Maybe it was because she had never allowed herself to notice before.

Her gaze flickered over the strong lines of his back, the way the muscles shifted when he moved. Then her eyes fell to his arms, tracing the dark ink that contrasted against his skin. She had noticed his tattoos before, in passing, but she had never really looked at them. The designs flowed together seamlessly — quotes, symbols, intricate details that all seemed to mean something.

Mason turned slightly, running a hand through his hair, and she caught sight of the tattoo on his ribs, peeking out just beneath his arm.

Something unfamiliar twisted in her stomach.

She needed to stop staring.

Clearing her throat, she forced her gaze back up. “It’s, um—” She exhaled sharply, trying to pull herself together. “It’s freezing. Do you have a hoodie or something?”

Mason turned fully now, reaching for the dresser. “Sure.” He pulled out a hoodie and walked over to her, offering it without hesitation.

Adeline reached for it, but as he handed it over, their fingers brushed — warm and solid against hers.

She inhaled sharply. It was nothing. Absolutely nothing. But for some reason, she pulled away quicker than necessary, gripping the hoodie tightly.

Mason tilted his head slightly. “You know, I was about to offer you a blanket, but I feel like you’d rather freeze than accept too much help from me.”

His tone was light, almost amused, but there was a softness in the way he said it.

Adeline huffed. “I don’t mind help.”

Mason smirked. “Right.” Then, after a pause, he added. “You know, if this storm keeps up, I might have to start charging you rent.”

Despite herself, a small exhale of amusement slipped through her nose. “I’ll be out of your way as soon as possible.”

Mason held his hands up in surrender. “I’m just saying, if you see me bringing out a lease agreement tomorrow, don’t be surprised.”

Adeline shook her head, clutching the hoodie tighter against her chest. “Thanks for this, though.” she said, nodding toward the fabric.

Mason gave her a small smile. “Anytime.”

She turned quickly, retreating to the guest room before anything else could be said.

Once inside, she shut the door and leaned against it, her heartbeat uneven.

Ridiculous.

With a sigh, she pulled the hoodie over her head. It was oversized, the fabric soft and slightly worn-in, fitting far too comfortably around her.

Then she noticed it. The scent.

Her fingers curled into the sleeves instinctively as she caught the faint traces of cedarwood and something distinctly him. It was clean, warm, familiar in a way she couldn’t quite explain.

And she hated that she liked it.

Swallowing hard, she shook her head, climbing into bed and pulling the duvet tightly over herself.

But even as the rain continued to pour outside and the thunder rumbled in the distance, it wasn’t the storm that kept her awake.

(…)

Sleep wasn’t happening. Not even close.

Mason had been tossing and turning for what felt like hours, his body exhausted but his mind refusing to shut off. His leg still ached slightly from the session earlier, but that wasn’t the reason he was wide awake.

She was.

Adeline was in the next room. Sleeping under his roof for the first time. And somehow, that fact had planted itself in his brain and refused to leave.

He wasn’t sure why it mattered. Maybe because, for the past few weeks, he’d only seen her in controlled emotions — either at the hospital or in his home for their sessions. But now, there was something different about the air between them. The way she let herself be just a little less guarded. The way she let him take care of her in small, quiet ways.

And the way she let him see her scared.

Mason sighed, rubbing a hand down his face. He didn’t know what it was about her that got under his skin so much. Maybe it was the fact that he’d spent the last month being an absolute pain in her ass, and now he was starting to feel like he wanted to make up for it.

Another deep rumble of thunder rolled through the sky, shaking the windows. He glanced toward them, exhaling. The storm wasn’t letting up.

He squeezed his eyes shut, willing himself to sleep — until something caught his attention.

Footsteps.

Soft ones, barely audible over the rain.

Mason sat up slightly, listening. Another crash of thunder came, louder this time, and then a shadow moved past his door.

Frowning, he pushed the covers off and swung his legs over the bed. He didn’t have to guess who it was.

When he stepped out into the dimly lit hallway, the soft glow of candlelight flickering in the living room revealed exactly what he suspected.

She was curled up on the couch, knees drawn to her chest, sleeves of his hoodie gripped tightly in her fists. Her face was turned toward the window, her expression unreadable, but when the next crack of thunder hit, he caught the subtle way she flinched.

“Can’t sleep?” Mason leaned against the doorway, crossing his arms.

Adeline startled slightly, turning toward him. She recovered quickly, straightening her spine like she hadn’t just jumped.

“Storm’s loud.” she muttered.

“That’s why you’re sitting here alone?” Mason hummed, stepping closer.

“It’s… quieter in a way.” She shrugged, her gaze flicking back to the window.

“Right. Totally makes sense.” He raised an eyebrow, unimpressed.

“You’re really annoying sometimes, you know that?” Adeline huffed, shaking her head.

“I’ve been told.” Mason smirked.

Another deep rumble of thunder crashed above them, rattling the windows. This time, she couldn’t mask the way she tensed, her fingers gripping the hoodie even tighter.

He noticed. And this time, he didn’t ignore it.

Mason hesitated for just a moment before grabbing the blanket draped over the back of the couch. Moving slowly, he sat down beside her, close enough that their legs brushed, the warmth of her body radiating through the small space between them.

Adeline stiffened slightly at first, her breath hitching, but she didn’t pull away.

She only glanced at him, wary but not rejecting the gesture.

“Relax, I’m not going to steal all the warmth.” Mason smiled, nudging her knee with his.

“You already did. It’s your blanket.” Adeline huffed, but there was no real bite to it.

He chuckled under his breath, shifting slightly to adjust the fabric around her shoulders. His fingers brushed against her arm as he did, the contact brief but enough to make something settle in his chest — something warm, something that felt different from the usual banter between them.

She didn’t pull away.

Didn’t tense like she normally would.

Instead, she let out a quiet exhale, fingers curling into the sleeves of his hoodie like she was grounding herself.

Mason watched her for a moment, the flickering candlelight casting soft shadows against her face. There was something about seeing her like this — unguarded, not fighting him at every turn — that made him hesitate, just for a second, before reaching up and tugging the blanket higher over her shoulder. His knuckles grazed her collarbone, slow and unintentional, but neither of them moved away.

“Better?” he asked, voice quieter now.

“A little.” Adeline still didn’t look at him right away. But eventually, she nodded.

Her voice was softer than he expected, and it did something to him.

Mason swallowed, dragging his gaze away from her face before he let himself stare too long. “Well.” he said, shifting like he needed to distract himself. “That’s progress.”

She exhaled a quiet laugh, the first real one of the night, and Mason barely resisted the urge to smile.

Another rumble of thunder rolled through the sky, louder this time. She flinched, not as much as before, but enough for him to notice. And this time, he didn’t think — he just moved.

His arm lifted slightly, hesitating only for a moment before settling across the back of the couch behind her. He didn’t touch her — not really — but it was close enough that if she wanted the reassurance, it was there.

She didn’t lean into it, but she didn’t pull away either.

Instead, she sat there, gripping the sleeves of his hoodie like it was the only thing keeping her there. And Mason, despite himself, found that he didn’t mind.

“Look.” he said after a beat, keeping his voice light, “If you were scared, you could’ve just said so.”

Adeline turned her head, shooting him a glare that, this time, had no real heat behind it. “I’m not scared.”

“Right. That’s why you jumped five inches off the couch a second ago.”

“You’re impossible.” She said, shooking her head.

“And yet, here you are.” He let out a breath, something like amusement flickering in his expression.

Something about that made her chest feel lighter.

Another deep rumble of thunder shook the windows, but this time, Adeline didn’t flinch as much as before.

Maybe it was the blanket.

Maybe it was the warmth between them.

Maybe it was just the fact that, for the first time in a while, she wasn’t dealing with it alone.

Whatever it was, something had shifted between them.

And Mason felt it.

For the first time in a long time, he didn’t feel the urge to run from it.

(…)

[holylulusworld]

Dumbass stalker (2) – Crazy for you

Summary: You’re the worst stalker ever.

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x Plussized!Reader

Warnings: stalking, obsession, possessive/delusional reader, mentions of sex

A/N: Please consider this reader is obsessed with SB. Her behavior is concerning.

Dumbass stalker masterlist

Dumbass stalker (1) - Every step you take

The place is crowded, and you hate yourself for coming here. It’s one of the rare occasions you allowed yourself to go to an official fan event.

Girls and even some boys scream Soldier Boy’s name. They are like in a trance, just like when you watch your man walk on stage. He waves only at you, but the crowd cheers, believing he means them.

Soldier Boy will talk about his next movie projects, and you couldn’t stay away. How can you miss the revelation of his movie project and the new costume he’ll wear?

“Ladies,” he purrs into the microphone, making you weak in the knees. His piercing green eyes focus on your face as he steps closer to the edge of the stage. “Gentlemen. Thank you for coming. We will reveal the trailer in a minute, and I will answer your questions.”

“YES!” You smile and clap your hands, feeling your panties dampen as he runs his tongue over his plump lips. “We love you!”

“I know you do,” he snickers and twirls on the stage to shake his ass. “You only came here to take a look at me.” He turns back around and pushes a few loose strands out of his face.

The show begins as the other members of the Seven join Soldier Boy on stage. You barely look at them. Queen Maeve and Starlight are not concurrence for you. They are not interested in your man.

You stare at Soldier Boy, watching him cup his crotch. Usually, you hate when men do this in public, but you don’t mind when it’s him. He’ll get away with anything.

“He’s such a hot piece of ass,” a girl to your left swoons. You roll your eyes and continue staring at your man. The trailer wasn’t as interesting as watching him.

Soldier Boy smirks and looks toward the crowd. He chuckles as the girls sigh loudly whenever he looks their way.

“Alright,” he says and claps his hands. “It’s twenty questions time.” You giggle at his playful tone. “What do you all want to know about the movie?”

The crowd cheers when Queen Maeve reveals that a few lucky ones can come to the stage and ask questions. You won’t even try. Soldier Boy knows you’re there only for him. That is enough.

One of the girls in the front row gets lucky. Queen Maeve helps her enter the stage and hands her a microphone. She nods and encourages the girl to ask her questions.

“My question is for Soldier Boy. What do you like in a girl? Do you like them skinny like me?” She squeaks when Soldier Boy takes the microphone out of her hands to answer.

“Well, I like all the ladies,” he grins, as the girls cheer and scream his name. “But honestly,” you swear he looks directly at you when he says, “I like me some cushion, you know. If things get heated, I like a girl I can grab and do—” He can’t end his line because Queen Maeve rips the microphone from his grasp.

You whimper as he winks at you. Did this really happen? Did Soldier Boy look your way? Did he talk about you?

“Thanks for the question,” Queen Maeve says while glaring at Soldier Boy. “Next question, please.”

Another girl and another enter the stage. They ask questions about the upcoming movie and how it feels to be a hero. The seven happily answer every question of their fans.

You yawn, bored because Soldier Boy prefers to play with his phone instead of answering more questions. He looks to the crowd one last time before leaving the stage without talking to the rest of the seven.

Sighing, you decide to leave too. If Soldier Boy is no longer around, there’s no reason for you to stay.

While you make your way through the crowd to reach the exit, a pair of green eyes follows your every move.

Maybe you’re not as invisible as you believed you were.

Tags in reblog.

[hamiltonaf]

Hello ! Can I request a Lewis x reader who's a famous singer and he attend her concert please ? Him reacting to the songs she wrote for him and how it end up a bit smutty with they finf each other backstage ?

Fantasize | Lewis Hamilton

Pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Female Reader

Word Count: 1.1K

Warnings: Slight smut

A/N: Hello my loves ! The song inspo for this oneshot is Fantasize by Ariana Grande. Thank you anon for requesting. Hope you babes enjoy. Requests are open .xx

From long nights in the studio a few weeks ago to now going on tour felt like a breath of fresh air. The tour was starting off at home, in London. Excited, though my nerves took over me - even though I’ve been doing this for so many years now, I should be used to it, but not when I have a special guest attending…my situationship, Lewis.

Our situationship goes back about 3 months ago, when my PR manager thought it would be a good idea for me to date Lewis. I haven’t been in the dating light for quite a hot minute and apparently I needed to get back to it so people had something to talk about, especially since everyone nowadays is a fan of F1. Surprisingly his PR manager had agreed on it and apparently we would make a good looking couple.

It started when I attended the race in Miami, no one questioned it or got ‘suspicious’ because almost every A list celebrity attended. 3 weeks later I attended the Monaco GP, yet again I was a guest for Mercedes so people started to slowly talk about it. Didn’t go to any other race for a whole month since I had song writing and recording to do in studio. People really started to talk when I went to the British GP, not a coincidence to anyone that I’m from England but because my rumoured ‘boyfriend’ is British.

I grew to love the sport and let’s say my feelings also grew for Lewis. It felt a bit forced at first since we were patched by our PR team, but the more time we spent together alone, the more we learnt about each other’s true self. From sweet and shy to daring and flirty.

Lewis’ rizz is unmatched to any man that I’ve met or been with. He can start off as such a gentleman but can so smoothly move onto flirting with me and making me feel weak at my knees. Speaking of weak, we’re back to feeling that way now since Lewis was on a break in between races and decided that he wanted to attend to support me. For some reason he just makes me feel nervous, in a good way of course, I don’t even feel nervous to perform around friends or family or even my fans for crying out loud…wait, am I in love ? I’m pretty sure this is what it feels like to be in love and here I am being in denial about my feelings.

I was backstage warming up my vocals whilst getting my hair and makeup touched up, when we all heard a knock at the door. My manager walked over to the door and stepped aside as she held it wide open without a word, I looked through the mirror to see it was Lewis. “Aww Lew ! So glad you could make it” I smiled as I watched him walk towards me. “I’m so glad to be here. Very excited to see you perform tonight. Nervous ?” He asked as he rubbed my shoulders. My PR manager then escorted everyone out from the room so we were left alone.

“Very nervous but excited for the most part” I smiled as I then stood up to face him. “Don’t be, you got this. I’ll be cheering you on from the side. Just look to your left and you’ll see me” he smiled. “You’re so cute. Thanks for that, I’ll be looking out for you.” Just then my PR manager yells through the door, “(Y/N) you need to get dressed !”

I shut my eyes for a second, “Okay give me 5” I yelled. “Can I stay to watch ?” He smirked. “No, Sir. See you after the show” I felt the heat rush to my cheeks. I then turned him around by his shoulders and guided him to the door. “Just a peak” he pleaded as he bit his bottom lip. “Stop or I might just cave in. Bye” I blushed as I held on the door handle. “I’ll try my luck later. Break a leg” he said softly, he then caught me by surprise by giving me a sweet kiss and a wink before rushing out.

I finally got dressed, had another round of touch ups and put on my ear piece before heading out back stage for my entrance. I still felt flustered and I couldn’t stop thinking about Lewis. I really need to get my feelings off my chest after the show.

Out of the thousands of people screaming and looking at me I could feel a particular pair of eyes burning into me, when I took a quick glance to my left, he was right there as he said. His phone in hand, recording me looking his way. I shook my head and looked back towards the fans.

On the last verse, the energy in the stadium was ecstatic.

Mentally, physically weak

Boys blowin’ up my phone

They just ain’t you, ooh, baby

…

Tryin’ to behave, but I’m feelin’

Some type of way

That just ain’t me

The band and I took a bow before I gave a vote of thanks to the fans for coming, and for all the love they’ve shown on the album. After rushing off stage to my dressing room, my mind was running with thoughts of Lewis. Speaking of the man himself, he was already seated in my dressing room. “Hey gorgeous. You did amazing out there. I’m so so proud of you” he rushed over to me as he pulled me in for a hug. “Yet again, thanks for coming. It really means a lot” he then broke away from our hug with a serious look. “I was supposed to tell you this before you left and I can’t hold it in any longer”

“Okay well same and it’s eating me up inside to hold it back” I said as I took a deep breath. “I love you” we said simultaneously. “Oh my gosh” I lowly said. “Are you joking ?” He asked with the biggest smile on his face. “Lew this isn’t something to joke about” I said seriously. “Then please be mine, officially” he said as he then wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me against him. “I thought you’d never ask” I grinned as I leaned in and closed the gap between us.

“As sexy as this dress looks on you, it needs to come off” he said in between kisses. The kiss got heated by the second as his hands trailed from squeezing my bum to the straps of my dress, pulling them off my shoulders. Just then there was a knock at the door. Shit. “Babe your car is here !” my PR manager shouted. “Damn it” I said frustrated and heated. “Well I guess we’ll have to continue this in the car” he said as he helped me adjust the straps of my dress - he grabbed a hold of my hand and pulled me along with him, eagerly waiting to continue this in the car.

[alphajocklover]

Hey bro, I have a bit of a strange situation going on. You see, I’m a big nerd, like playing dnd, good at math, into card games nerds. And I never really questioned it. But recently, I’ve found myself wanting to be more active, I’ve been wanting to become something I am not, a big strong guy. And it all stared when I rediscovered the Xmen through the show and upcoming movie. Could you, I mean, would you mind helping me become like my ideal man, Wolverine?

I want to be the small hunky and hairy beats he is, oozing with libido and sex appeal.

It's a little strange, but I’ve been getting a lot of superhero requests recently! Not that I’m complaining, I love writing about superheros. They’re interesting characters who have long histories and decades of lore to use. Plus they’re usually hot as fuck. And Wolverine is one of the hottest. Muscular, with a thick layer of hair, and gruff as can be. He’s traditionally a loner, but he has a certain rough charm to him. There’s a reason he’s been a part of almost every superhero team at one time or another. People can’t get enough of the guy. It could be his inventive power set, his ability to change with the times and still remain interesting and relevant. Or it could be that he’s an incredibly manly hunk whose animalistic nature makes people weak in the knees. He’s everything you ever wanted to be, or at least everything you’ve wanted to be since you saw those new X-Men cartoons. When you watched them, something awakened in you. And now… you’re becoming just like him.

You’re not becoming him, if that’s what you’re thinking. Whatever is happening to you can’t give you claws like Wolverine or coat your skeleton in adamantium. I mean, in our world adamantium doesn’t really exist, and even though some transformation methods could turn you into a perfect replica of wolverine or add onto the periodic table, this one won’t do that. It’s more fun to be a stud without the responsibility of being a superhero anyways, especially since one of his main powers is to survive incredibly painful situations. Now you get all the pleasure, none of the pain, and an absolutely studly body.

One common fun fact that people like to bring up about Wolverine is the fact that he’s… while he’s short. Really short. Since Hugh Jackman is over 6 feet tall, people tend to forget that in the comics Wolverine is a complete shortstack, standing at 5’3”. So, I’m afraid to say that you’re going to shrink quite a bit. Luckily, being shorter just makes your new muscles look even bigger and better. Your biceps are enormous, your pecs are amazing, and your abs are almost inhuman. That, plus a heavy layer of manly, thick hair, and you look like you walked right off the pages of a comic book. Or out of a very suggestive movie. Of course you don’t want to just look like Wolverine. You want to be like Wolverine. Which means a few… adjustments to your personality.

That might seem daunting or scary at first, the idea that your personality is going to change. But you won’t feel that way very long. Nothing is going to faze you anymore. Just like Wolverine You’re tough as nails and you act like it. Literally nothing throws you. You’re a certified badass. Yes, you have a sensitive side like the real Wolverine, but most people aren’t gonna see that. Most people, from your manly new friends to the girls you hook up with, are going to see the manly man, the strong warrior, the beast.

There are some small differences between you and Wolverine of course. The main one being that the guy in the comics doesn’t hook up with people very often. Too busy saving the world. And when he does get a love interest, the feelings between them are pretty serious. You don’t have the same patterns. You’re the type of guy who has a new girl every night and is constantly looking for more pussy. You can’t help it, with a massive cock and an even bigger libido. You’re the best at what you do, and what you do is fuck.

**Hey guys! Hope I did Wolverine justice. He’s a super hot character and I had a lot of fun writing a tf inspired by him. Hope you enjoyed!**

[bb-sg]

Beg Pt.4

Part 4 is here!

I recommend reading the first parts of the story if you haven't already.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 5 Part 6

Relationship(s): Geto x fem!Reader, Gojo x fem!Reader

CW: fingering, rough sex, dom/sub dynamics, punishment, impact play.

You waited until the notifications stopped and you heard the last ping. You smirked at the phone, laughing at the irony of everyone trying to reach him while you were seeking his attention too.

On the lock screen, illuminating from the phone, was a message from Geto Suguru reading, “Hi Y/N.”

Is he using his friend’s phone to text me?

You bit your lip, your cheeks burned involuntarily. The message was a couple days old, but you still hesitated before writing out your reply. You couldn’t hide the fact that you were nervous.

You wrote and rewrote your message several times before sending a simple, “Hello?”, back.

You continued to gather water and mindlessly fish while you waited for a response.

-Geto Suguru: Gojo told me about you, and how you helped him. I figured I should at least thank you. Saved us the hassle of doing it ourselves. I’m Geto. His friend.

He told someone about me?

You were nervous. You stayed away from people for a reason.

You hesitated in responding. You thought about ignoring the message and waiting to see if Gojo would try to reach out to you himself. Although, this seemed like the best option if you wanted to see him again.

I really do want to see him again though.

-You: Oh, it was no problem. Happy to help him out. Is he okay?

You hoped that the message didn’t come across as desperate. Even if you were.

-Geto: Yeah, the knucklehead is back to normal. Only thanks to you, love. I’m surprised he hasn’t called you yet, you were all he talked about for a week.

This response made you giddy, and weak in the knees. Just like when you had a crush on the playground. You had no reason to believe this man, he was a stranger to you after all, but God did you hope he was telling the truth.

-You: I’m sure he’s busy, just happy he’s okay.

You tried to leave your response vague and devoid of the eagerness you genuinely felt. Not wanting to come off too strong.

-Geto: I’ll have to owe you a favor. Gojo said you live out in a forest. Is that right?

You bit your lip, feeling your nerves bubbling to the surface. The conversation between the two of you began to flow organically. You felt a swell of emotions building up when you realized an hour had flown by and you were still texting him. The conversation was friendly and welcoming.  He was easy to get along with, and seemed calm and collected, especially compared to Gojo’s rowdier personality.

You couldn’t believe that he was real. You started to question whether or not Gojo was even real or if you imagined this whole thing. You wanted to pinch yourself to make sure you were awake.

One thing didn’t make sense to you though: Why did he start talking to you anyway?

I don’t want to ask and have this whole thing become ruined.

-You: Hey, why did you start talking to me anyway? 

There was a pregnant pause after you sent the message. You waited impatiently as you stared at the screen, muscles clenched with anxiety, but the phone remained silent.

Why wouldn’t he respond to that message?

The sun was starting to set but you didn’t want to leave until you heard from him. You tried to brush it off as you slowly packed up your things. You were dragging your feet, hoping that you heard the phone go off before dusk set in.

As you started your hike back to your home, you racked your brain trying to piece together what any of your conversation with Geto Suguru really meant. You felt drawn to him for some reason, you wanted to trust him and believe that he was being genuine in his interest in talking to you.

You heard rustling coming from the depths of the forest. You peered into the darkness trying to see what it was. You picked up the pace, eager to get out of this area and back to your home. 

It feels like someone is watching me…

Your eyes kept scanning the forest, waiting for the shadows to move and for someone to jump out at you. You liked living in desolation since you rarely ran into anyone, but you couldn’t deny that this place had an ominous aura about it. Especially in this moment.

You noticed that something shifted among the trees. You froze in place, your hand gripped your face mask tightly, getting ready to defend yourself.

Your heart pounded in your chest, body started to tremble as your fight or flight instincts kicked in. You opened your mouth ready to command whatever it was to leave you alone when you felt a hand clamp over your mouth and pull you in.

What the fuck. Who is this? What do I do?

You tried to fight back against the person, swinging your elbow back to try knock them back. They grabbed your arm quickly and anchored it to your side.

“Whoa there kitten, put the claws away, it’s just me!”

You recognized the playful and animated voice immediately. Gojo.

“I thought it might be fun to try and scare ya a little but you’re a little jumpy today huh?”

He leaned in close to whisper in your ear, his hand still clamped tightly over your lips. You weren't any more relaxed knowing it was him lurking in the shadows. Your heart was still racing, your body was still tense and rigid.  

His presence was overwhelming. You felt intimidated by his energy, his height and how close he was to you.

“Oi, I’m going to let you go but you gotta promise not to do anything stupid.” You could hear the smile in his voice as his hand dropped down and he stepped back and away from you.

“I’ve been waiting for you to check that phone for like a month. You were starting to hurt my pride!”

You turned around and took him in. He was dressed casually in a long sleeve white sweater and black jeans, topping it off with his black shades he was so fond of. He was feigning a hurt expression with his hand covering his forehead and his other hand clenching at his heart.

“I was starting to think you were only using me for my body.” He smirked and looked at you over his glasses. His brilliant eyes were sparkling, much more of life than the last time you saw him.

In an instant you remembered how irritating he can be though.

What an ass.

You playfully swung to smack him on the arm, but he swiftly dodged it, laughing at your attempt.

“You couldn’t hit me if you tried princess!” He cackled.

Your face soured as he belittled you. You looked him up and down and held your hands on your hips, challenging him.

I know I can’t win but I’ll be damned if he’s going to talk to me that way.

He shoved his hands into his pockets and cocked his head to the side.

“Well, c’mon then. Let’s see it.”

You instantly threw a punch towards him, but missed as he leaned just out of range. He laughed as he straightened up.

“What was that? That was a terrible punch!” He laughed throwing his head back.

This asshole! He’s only been here for two minutes, and he pissed me off.

He finally stopped laughing and held his hands up, when he saw how angry you were.

“Oi! Don’t get all mad now. How about I show you how to throw a punch eh?” He slowly approached you and like he would a rapid dog. You kept your fist clenched to your side as he walked around you, stopping right behind you.

His hands landed on your shoulders firmly, rubbing them up and down to get you to relax. Your skin prickled with goosebumps when you felt the warmth emitting from his hands. Gojo pulled you back against his chest while resting his chin on your shoulder. “Relax,” he whined in your ear.

You gasped, flustered by how close he was again. He shook your arms a little until you gave in and loosened up enough for him to manipulate your limbs. He lifted and guided your arms and hands into a fighting position with your hands up guarding your face.

“There. keep your hands up so you can protect yourself. You want to be able to react quickly if necessary. When you throw a punch, you need the force to come from your hips.” He instructed you in a serious tone.

His hands left your arms and drifted down to your pelvis, gripping you tightly. He tapped your thigh and used one of his feet to gently push your dominant leg back, staggering your feet. You stumbled a little bit he stabilized you. You felt the rumble of his chuckle against your back.

“Now, rotate your hips and really throw your fist like you’re trying to punch through your target.” He whispered in your ear, his lips ghosting over your skin. He walked you through the motion with his hands, his body flush against yours, correcting your form gently.

“Just like that kitten.” His breath tickled your neck as he repeated the same technique a few more times. “Good. You’re doing so well.”

 He’s got to be doing this on purpose.

Your skin burned as your mind raced with indecent fantasies of him whispering the same phrases to you under different circumstances.

“Now that’s how you hit someone. Not that you’ll ever be in danger with me around.” He slowly retracted himself from you and shoved his hands back into his pockets. The same smug smile as earlier returning.

“Anyway, enough about you being defenseless”, he stuck his tongue out at you. You rolled your eyes at how childish he was. “I’ve been checking the find my phone app constantly, waiting for you to get service. Took ya long enough.”

He started walking towards your house, only looking back when he noticed you weren’t following him.

“You coming? I’m starving, I hope you stocked up on food this time.”

Why did I miss him...

You sighed and ran to catch up to his long legs. You two walked in silence, finding a comfortable pace as you navigated your way through the forest. You snuck nervous glances over to scan his features, waiting for any clues that would help you understand why he was here.

His face remained calm and peaceful, he seemed to be enjoying the walk. You almost didn’t want to disturb him. The way he looked lost in a daydream made you wish the walk was longer.

Curiosity got the best of you though. You took out the phone and typed out a message before tapping him on the shoulder to catch his attention as you held the phone out.

He looked back at you before reading your message.

-Why are you here?

He laughed, “What, I can’t stop in to say hi?”

He playfully shoved you with his shoulder and you couldn’t help my smile, cheeks burning up.

“I just wanted to see you. Plus, I’ve been training nonstop since I saw you last. I could use a break and your place seems like a good place to rest up and relax.” He pushed his glasses down the bridge of his nose to wink at you. “Among other things.”

You smacked his arm, and he yelped in mock surprise. You frantically typed out a reply.

-I’m not running a hotel or vacation home Gojo!

He threw his arm around your shoulder and pulled you close.

“Of course not! I wouldn’t pay to stay out here, and you really don’t have any good amenities. You’re not really going to turn me away though, are you?”  His voice was smooth like velvet, and rich like honey.

You shrugged your shoulders halfheartedly.

“That’s the spirit!” He hollered in excitement before picking up the pace, his long legs leading the way.

Before long you reached your house and began unloading everything. Gojo immediately started rifling through your kitchen looking for sweets.

You watched him curiously. A small smile forming on your face. You hated to admit it, but you did stop at the store and grabbed a few things he might like after his last visit. He happily tore into some mochi he had found.

How does he just worm himself into my house so easily?

You glanced at the phone and remembered that you were waiting for Geto’s reply. You opened the messages and saw he had replied.

-Geto: You seemed interesting from what Gojo had said about you. Someone worth getting to know. Is this okay?

You bit your lip before putting the phone to sleep. You couldn’t help but feel excited about his response. You quickly changed your facial expression before Gojo could see. You wondered if Gojo knew that his best friend had been texting you all day. For some reason, it felt wrong.

You didn’t see how Gojo’s jaw clenched in annoyance when he did catch how your face lit up when you looked at your phone. You didn’t know that he could see everything.

You began to write a message to tell Gojo about your conversation with Geto when he interrupted you by grabbing your hand and pulling you to sit on the couch with him. He seemed giddy as he smirked at you.

“Guess what! I’ve been working on a cursed technique that may be able to protect me from your cursed speech! You’d be able to talk to me without having to worry about cursing me!”

You gawked at him, genuinely shocked and confused by his news. You didn’t believe him at first, but the look on his face told you he was being honest. He was excited but there was a hint of determination and seriousness underneath his happy demeanor. He almost seemed tense beneath it all.

I’ve never been able to openly talk to anyone. You had a thousand questions but couldn’t force yourself to ask any of them, so he continued explaining.

“I’ve been working on creating an infinite space around me, like a shield, that’ll make it impossible for anything to touch me. Including your cursed energy.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, trying to make sense of his explanation and understand his technique.

He took your hand in his and squeezed it softly, bringing your focus back to him. “Maybe we should try it out and see if it works.”

He took off his glasses and folded them into his pocket. He met your gaze before nodding his head at you, encouraging you to talk to him.

You pulled your mask down and around your neck. His eye immediately went to stare at your lips for a moment before meeting your eyes again. He loved being able to see your entire face. He adored how flustered you looked, biting at your beautiful lips, barely making eye contact with him. It made him want to ruin you.

He encouraged you more, “Go ahead. I want to hear your beautiful voice angel.”

You cleared your throat, “S-sorry, I’m nervous. I don’t want to hurt you.” Your voice shook as you concentrated on choosing your words carefully. Suddenly, your throat felt dry and tight.

He smiled wide and squeezed your hand tighter, pulling your hand to his chest and leaning into you. His face inches away from yours.

“Your voice is sweet, like sugar.”

You giggled, unable to wipe the smile from your face.

“Thank you, Gojo. Is it hard to keep up your technique?”

His smile faltered a bit, you almost didn't catch it the change before he plastered on a cheesy smile again. “I can hold it for a bit without much trouble. I’m working on finding out how to regenerate my cursed energy indefinitely, but I haven't quite perfected it yet. I can keep it up for about an hour constantly before I get tired. C’mon, try to curse me, give me your best shot.”

Is he doing this for me?

You studied his body language, looking for any signs that he was exhausting himself. Your gaze landed on his lips which were so close to yours. You could feel his breath fanning over your face. You felt a familiar ache in your body, your skin burning up.

“Kiss me. I mean if you want-”  You began before he cut you off and his lips met yours. Your lips molded together as his hand snaked into your hair. 

He groaned into the kiss as he pulled you into his lap and held onto your hip. He guided you into place and held you down against him. His fingers snuck under your clothes to grip at your bare skin, his touch burned into your skin. You dug your fingers into his chest as you gently bit his bottom lip, begging for more.

 Wait!

You broke away from the kiss in a panic. You pulled away quickly and covered your mouth with both hands.

Did I just force him to do that?

You felt the vibrations of his laugh against your body as he pulled your hands away from your face and into his own.

“Don’t worry, it was my choice to do that. I’ve been wanting to kiss you since I saw you.”  He took your face in his hands to force you to look at him. He was beautiful. The contrast between his vibrant blue eyes and smooth white skin made you weak.

“It looks like my technique works though.” He moved your head to the side with his hand and laid soft kisses on your neck. “Now... Tell me all about yourself.”

His kisses ignited the fire inside you, wanting nothing more than to feel his lips everywhere on your body. You tried to form words, but they were stuck in your throat.

“C’mon kitten, focus. Don't let me distract you.” you felt a sharp sting on your ass when his hand landed on you. You gasped and bucked your hips forward against him trying to pull away from his hand. He groaned when you inadvertently bucked against his hips. “You know I’ve gone through a lot of trouble to hear your voice. Don’t make me wait any longer.”

“I-I don’t know what you want me to say.” You quipped anxiously, more focused on how his teeth grazed the sensitive skin on your neck.

“Let’s play a game, 20 questions. Each time you answer one of my questions, I’ll reward you but if you don’t answer my question, then I’ll have to punish you.” He nipped at your ear mischievously as he ground his hips up into yours.

You chuckled to hide your nervousness, agreeing to his game with a simple nod.

“Alright kitten. Tell me, “He paused thoughtfully. “Where are you from?”

You gripped his shoulders tightly, relishing the way his fingers grazed up the skin on your back, tracing the curve of your spine.

“Kyoto. I’m from Kyoto,” you whispered.

“Good girl.” He purred into your neck as he hooked one of his fingers into the neck of your shirt and pulled it down your shoulder. He sucked small bruises into your skin as his lips followed the ridge of your collarbone. You moaned softly at the sensation.

He hummed appreciatively at your response. “Has anyone taught you how to use your cursed energy?”

He turned more serious, the graveness in his voice made you want to shrink away from him. You felt your cursed energy flare up due to your anxiety. It could taste it building in your throat. You forced it down to the pit of your stomach.

“Yes. when I was young.”

He hummed again, biting your skin. One of his hands snuck its way into your bra and gently caressed your breast. You gasp at the contact as he squeezed and tweaked your sensitive nipple. The fabric of your shirt felt rough compared to his soft touches. Gojo continued to nip and kiss at your neck and shoulder.

“Who taught you angel?” He inquired.

You shook your head no, refusing to respond. There were some things you wanted to keep private. This was a part of your story you didn’t plan on telling anyone. You tried to pull back from him, but he held you in place.

He tutted in your ear before stilling all his movements. “No? You’re going to give me the silent treatment on that one?”

He pulled back away from you to stare at your face. “Punishment it is.” His eyes darkened and he pinched your nipple hard enough to make you yelp.

He squeezed your ass before pushing you off him.

“Take your pants off, now.” He commanded in a low voice.

You wanted to refuse, not give into his game, but you craved him more than you wanted to admit. You felt starved for touch while you raked over his form. He sat with his legs spread wide, his elbows perched on his knees while he leaned on them. His eyes followed your every move as you gave in to his authority and began sliding your pants and shoes off.

“Now, turn around and bend over in front of me. Keep your hands on your knees no matter what.” You heard his command. “Count each one.”

You didn’t have to see him to know what his plan was. You heard the impact before you felt the sharp sting on your backside. Your skin igniting aflame where his hit had landed.

“O-one.” You meekly let out, bracing yourself for the next one.

“Hm I couldn’t hear you. Louder this time.” The next slap was harder than the first.

You squealed, “Two!”

You bit back a sound that was a cross between a screen and moan. Tears built up in your eyes, but you couldn’t deny that you felt the wetness building in your core. He rubbed and kneaded the cheek he had just slapped. He groaned when his fingers grazed your panty clad warmth, noticing the damp spot growing.

He spread your cheeks apart to admire you. You heard him groan before you felt his breath against your hot skin. he gently the area he had already slapped before squeezing your hips, pushing you away from him.

“You drive me fucking crazy. I’m almost not able to control myself.” His voice was rough, almost guttural. You looked back at him and saw the relaxed and excited Gojo was gone. His pupils were blown wide with lust and glued to your core. “Eyes forward.” He barked as his eyes flickered to yours. You turned your head back and waited in anticipation.

The last strike caused you to moan in agony and euphoria. He chuckled and rubbing his hands over your ass to soothe you, occasionally brushing against your center.

“You’re so wet, I could take you so easily kitten.” Gojo teased you before he coaxed you to sit down next to him. You winced at the sharp pain that jolted through your body when your skin made contact with the couch.

“You know I don’t like to punish you, right angel?” He cooed while stroking your cheek. His eyes feigned concern and his smile was anything but sincere.

“That’s a lie.” You snapped back.

“Yeah. You are right, guess you got me there.” He laughed and draped his arm on the back of the couch, caging you in. “Now. Let’s pick up where we left off hmm?”

His fingers brushed over your thighs teasingly. “Let’s try some more easy ones…”, he tapped his finger on his chin while he pondered.

“Ah! What’s your favorite flower?” He leaned his head against his arm while he watched you consider his question. His eyes sparkled mischievously while he oozed charm.

You laughed at his sudden change in attitude and answered his question. 

He smiled and gripped your thigh tightly sliding them apart. “Now I get to reward you and I’ll know what to bring you next time I stop by.”

Next time? You bit your lip at how nervous that made you.

He continued to ask simple, basic questions about you. He asked what your favorite food was, what sports you liked and what kind of music you liked. Each time you answered his fingers moved another inch up your leg until his fingers were tracing the outline of your panties.

“Take your clothes off angel. I want to see you.” He cooed while pulling the band of your panties down while you lifted yourself up enough for him to slide them off. You pulled your shirt and bra off and threw them on the floor. Your heart rate quickened as you felt your need for him growing.

His fingers traced up and down your slit lightly, just grazing you, teasing you.

“You’re so desperate, already soaking wet for me. I can even hear it.” He listened while he ran his fingers between your puffy lips, hearing the sound of his fingers gliding through your slick.

“Stop teasing me Gojo.” You panted out, annoyed with his game. He felt some of your cursed energy seeping into the room, he didn’t think you were even aware that you were trying to curse him.

“If you don’t drop the attitude, you won’t get anything.” His face turned to stone as he spread your legs further apart.

“Tell me angel, do you get lonely up here?” He asked while he regarded your naked body with fondness and desire.

You shook your head, surprised at his boldness before you answered him.  “Yeah, I guess. Sometimes.”

His finger dipped into your entrance slowly, he groaned quietly as he slid in easily. He began pumping his finger in and out of you, his eyes were glued to the sight of his finger shimmering with your wetness.

“Hmm... did you miss me?” His aura had shifted, feeling a sudden coldness wash over you.

“You really are full of yourself.” You retorted.

He gripped your chin in his hands before squeezing them together.

“Answer me.” He released you, his eyes bored into you. You felt him looking through you, you felt even more naked under his gaze.

“Y-yeah. I did.”

He stroked your cheek again as his thumb brushed against your clit. Your back arched and muscles clenched around him. You lost yourself in the feeling, but you wanted him to give you more.

“Have you been talking to anyone, besides me of course?”

You couldn’t think straight while he curled his finger deep inside of you, brushing against your walls in a way that made your toes curl. You moaned before clenching your hands into fists, you shook your head.

“N-not really.” You choked out.

He frowned and slid another finger inside you. You gasped at how good the stretch felt with his long fingers inside you. He brushed his thumb against your clit again, eliciting an uncontrollable moan to out of you.

“Were you planning on telling me that my friend was texting you today? It’s not nice to keep secrets from friends angel.” His voice dropped several octaves while his movements slowed to a halt.

You froze, stunned that you forgot to tell him but even more shocked by the fact that he knew the whole time. Slowly you shook your head.

You sat up and tried to explain,” Gojo I wa- “.

He grabbed your arm and pulled you to your feet as he towered over you.

“On your knees.” He commanded. “Maybe you can earn the right to call me Satoru.”

************************************************************************

Not my favorite chapter but I'm so excited about where it's going!

Angst to come!

Thank you for reading, likes and reblogging is appreciated, It helps spread my work! Much love.

Please do not repost. I do not own any jjk characters or artwork.

@purpleguk @shuxjodie @kama-star @creolequeen11210 @herosinos @fonkymonkeyfriday @coffee-addict-32

[abbysunderwear]

The day I turned seventeen pt1

Warnings: none really for this chapter, eventual smut, angst, mentions of abuse

Chapter 2

You wake up in an unfamiliar building and immediately try to flee but then you feel a stabbing pain in your abdomen. Memories flood back to you.

A fucking random man stabbed you. Out of everything in an apocalypse that could hurt or even kill you it had to be some dick. And of course he took your shit

Just as you try to get up again a muscular, and fairly pretty woman rushes in “hey hey easy” she says and pushes her hand against your wound making you groan

You push her away “get off of me. I don’t know you. Where am I?” You’ve grown not to trust anyone, especially in this new world.

“Well first come down jeez” she scoffs “This is our base, we saw you bleeding to death and brung you here but I mean we could’ve left you if that’s what you would’ve preferred”.

This girl has jokes is the first thing you thought. “Thanks…not everyone would’ve done that” you say that last part quietly “so what did that” she asks pointing to your wound

“Some dude I think, I can’t remember much but I know he was stealing my shit” you say clearly annoyed. “Soooo….” “Abby” she tells you “y/n, so Abby where exactly are we?” You ask as you two walk down a long hall “Were in Washington, The sound view stadium or at least that’s what they tell me”

“Hmmm never heard of it” you were born sometime after the apocalypse so you don’t exactly know what the old world was like, your dad was an abusive asshole and your mom left when you were two. “Y/n? Could I ask you a question?” You snap out of your thoughts and turn to Abby

“Sure” Abby looks down to the ground fidgeting with her finger nails “why were you out there?” You can’t tell her that, you barely know her “I don’t feel comfortable talking about this” it came a little harsher than you intended it to “sorry it’s just a sensitive subject” Abby finally looks at you with a soft smile “it’s okay I get it” that makes your heart flutter?

That smile had you thrown for a loop, sure she was pretty but that for some reason had you weak in the knees. You guys finally reach the dining area and a guy starts approaching you guys “hi Abby, hi um I never asked your name but mines is manny and you are welcome to stay” “my name is y/n, thank you is there anyway I can wash up?” You ask feeling so icky from the blood and dirt “yeah Abby can you show her to the showers and get her the essentials?” “Sure manny, come on” you follow Abby to what you assume is a commissary and get everything you need and head to the showers

“Thank you Abby, for everything” you give her a gentle smile and head into the shower. To your surprise she follows you in and starts undressing? Oh shit it’s a community shower

A/n: this chapter isn’t really long or good 😭 because I was rushing but next chapter will be better I promise

Taglist: @mygodwomen (let me know if you would like to be added)

[hailey-murdock]

Lose you

Paring: Matt Murdock x Fem!reader

Warnings:(for this entire series) Angst, death, illness, nightmare, established relationship, drinking, depression, use of pet names, fluff, minor but implied smut, mentions of college Matt and reader(let me know if I missed something out)

Summary: Matt "the man without fear" may not after all be that. He fears he'll lose the person he most loves

WC: 2.1K

Other characters: Foggy Nelson, Frank Castle

A/N: Hello sweeties, I've decided to make a Matt Murdock series. There will be 4 chapters for this series. Grab tissues cause this shit is sad. (Reblogs, comment and likes are appreciated).

You were enjoying a quiet evening with Matt in your apartment. You had wrapped your arms around Matt feeling weak and tired and out of nowhere I started feeling sick.

"M-Matt….. I-".

Matt put his hand on your shoulder.

"What's wrong? " Matt got worried and he kept holding you close.

"Hey, I'll do anything for you, you know that, right? Just tell me what you need. You are the most important thing. Nothing else matters."

He got scared the moment he heard your heart beating slow. He grabbed his phone and called an ambulance immediately. 

You tried to nod but you felt so weak and your eyes began to close and your heartbeat got slower by the second. Matt was really scared. He didn’t want to lose you. He picked you up in his arms and tried to keep you awake.

"Hey, it’s OK. Stay with me….Hey, look at me. Please don’t leave. Please…" He kept his arms wrapped around you and he shook you a little. "Please, sweetheart. Please."

Matt was crying and tears were in his soft brown eyes. He had never felt so worried. He didn’t wanna lose you. You were the love of my life. 

"M-Matt h-hospital". You whispered softly to him. "Yes. I'll take you to a hospital." He got up holding you in my arms. He didn't let you go. Matt carried you to the closest hospital and he made sure to get her a bed right away. He tilted his head in the direction of where a doctor was and he ran to him. "My girlfriend is unconscious. I want you to make sure she's ok and will be ok."

The doctor came over right away and started examining you. He seemed worried, too. Matt waited outside. He was shaking from worrying about you. You had already gone through so much in life. Matt would never forgive himself if anything happened to you. He couldn’t live without you, the woman who he deeply loved, the one person who gave him purpose, a reason to want to keep fighting, to breathe.

Matt held his head with one hand. He  just wanted to make sure you were safe and that you were ok. He tried to calm himself down but he just couldn’t. He was just so scared. The doctor came out to see Matt and he sighed as he walked towards him."Are you family?"

"I’m her boy-....I'm her husband." Matt was getting desperate of the silence of the doctor, the way sweat formed on his forehead and his breathing was uneven.

"What is it? What happened? She was talking to me normally and then she became unconscious. How is she? Is she in trouble? Is she going to be ok?" Matt needed answers to all of his questions, he felt his world slowly falling apart.

"She's still alive, she's sleeping at the moment but I do have news."

"What is it?" Matt's  heart was beating really fast as he got ready for the worst. "Just tell me. I can handle anything. Just tell me that she’ll be ok." 

"We ran some exams and we noticed something…we found a tumor in her brain…. that caused her to become unconscious….I'm sorry son".

Cancer? Matt started shaking. "Please...no...."

Matt wanted to cry. He felt so worried and his throat felt dry. "How...how bad is it? What can you do? I'll do anything for her. Please." Matt couldn't contain his tears, he felt his knees weak. Somehow he was still standing but the news couldn't get inside his mind.

"That's the thing she's at the first stage, luckily we detected it early and not way too far later. She's gonna have to need treatment, there's no possibility that she'll be cured but we'll do everything we can to help her."

"T-thank you. Thank you." Matt breathed a sigh of relief. It was still scary and it was going to be a rough fight, but at least she wasn't going to die…or at least that's what he hoped for. "Can I see her? Is she ok enough to talk?" Matt needed to be with you, he needed your help to ground him back. But over all, Matt just needed you.

"She's asleep but if you would like to be there with her you can."

Matt nodded at the doctor. He took a deep breath. "Yes, I would like that. I want to be by her side. She needs me and I'm not letting her be alone in this fight." 

The doctor understood his pain and nodded. "Well follow me then." As the small walk to your room made Matt think of the outcomes of this new news. Once Matt gets there he feels your cold body on the bed sleeping. He  walked into the room slowly. He got closer to the bed and he tilted his head towards you. You were asleep. Matt sat down next to you and he took your hand and he held it. He wanted, no he needed to hear your sweet angelic voice, so he called out your name gently.

Matt waited for you to wake up. He felt worried and his heart was beating fast. He hoped that you could hear him. You slowly started to wake up and you turned your head and you saw Matt and smiled softly. "H-hi Matty." When he realized you were waking up, he smiled.

"Hey, sweetheart." He squeezed your hand gently. "It's me. I'm here with you. I'm here and we'll get through this together. You'll never be alone. And I've got you. I'll be here for you. I'm not moving from here until you get better and we'll spend the rest of our lives together." Matt smiled as he continued to hold your hand and he kept squeezing it. "How do you feel?"

"I'm tired but what are you talking about? What do you mean by "We'll get through this together Matty?"

"Didn't the doctor tell you? They found cancer. They said it was cancer." His voice started to get slightly shaky. He felt so bad but I wanted to be honest at the same time.

"But...they said it was early….You'll still live a full life. They said there were a lot of things they could do. You'll be ok". Matt tried to smile for you but he felt sick to his stomach as the words left his mouth.

"Cancer? That's impossible. There's no way that could happen to me".

Matt held your hand and held you a little closer. "I know. I'm sorry, sweetheart. I feel so useless, I wish there was something I could do to help you". Matt wanted to keep holding you because it felt safe and comforting.

"But...I will be with you through all of it. I'm not leaving your side. And you'll never be alone. I'm with you and you're the strongest person I've ever met in my life. You are the most important person in this world to me. I love you. And that won't ever change".

You stayed in Matt's arms not returning the hug or anything as you still didn't get through my head anything of what he said. Matt stayed quiet and he just held you. He was worried and didn't know what to say. He sat there with his hand around you. All he wanted was to hug you and hold you close to him. He couldn't speak. And he didn't want to leave you or leave your side while you were going through this. Matt wanted you to know that you weren't alone. He loved you and he would do anything for you.

"When can I go back home?" You said in a very quiet voice.

"They said they'd want you to stay here for about a week, but then, they'll want you to stay at home and rest. You will still have to go back here every day for exams and checkups. We can go home after a week or so. They'll let us know all the details……Do you want to be held? I know this is a lot but...I can't ever leave you. Not when you're here. I'm here always".

You nod softly as you answer "y-yeah....I just want to go home Matty". Matt felt his heart breaking into small pieces. How could you, an innocent and sweet person who has done no wrong in your entire life be punished with such illness. "I know, baby. It's a lot. And it's not fair". He was starting to tear up but he held himself back. "But we'll get through this. I'll be there every step of the way. You're strong, sweetheart. You're stronger than anyone should have to be, but I know you can do this. We're together and we'll go through this together".

"W-what if I-". You felt your throat dry up and unable to form any sentences as you thought of the possibilities of what could happen in the future.

Matt of course understood what you meant but he didn't want to think about it. How could he live in a world without the person who he loved deeply. "What if what, sweetheart"?

He couldn’t help but feel scared. Matt felt the tears building up again. He didn't want to think that anything would happen to you. He loves you so much. Not being with you ever again? Matt couldn't think about it. He felt terrified, but he didn't want to give up.

"Nothing is going to happen to you. We're together and you're strong."

You took off Matt's red glasses and looked into his eyes. "But what if I do die"? The last word comes out as a whisper  that if someone was there they wouldn't have heard you but Matt did. 

His heart was already bleeding because of what had just happened. But now, he completely broke down when he heard you ask that. Matt was crying and shaking. He couldn't speak. He felt broken and his heart was completely shattered. He loved you so much and he wasn’t ready for that to happen or ever to happen. He was scared now more than ever. Matt was known as "The man without fear". But now, he feared losing the only person he truly ever loved. Matt was in complete disbelief. But your question and your words were so real. They were so real. Matt didn't want to lose you. Nothing in this world mattered without you. 

Tears fell down your face just like Matt, the both of you in complete pain. "I don't want to leave you alone Matt....I can't do that to you". Your heart was broken, just like you needed Matt in your life, he needed you as well. The idea of Matt alone and sad made you feel bad even if it wasn't your fault.

 He kept crying when you said that. Matt put his arms around you and he held her close. He shook as he was crying. "No! Please, no."

Matt couldn't stop the tears, he was crying so much. He held you even more closer, afraid that you could slip through his hands. "Please don't say that. We're going to get through this. You're not gonna die. I'll be there every step of the way. It'll be alright."

The tears kept coming, and he couldn't stop them. You pulled Matt's face in front of yours and you kissed him to make you stop thinking about the slight possibility of you dying. Matt's heart skipped a beat. And he felt his stomach warm as you kissed him. It made him so happy and for a minute it made him forget everything. It was so unexpected and the kiss felt like an eternity. You pulled away from it to breathe and Matt smiled at you. "Well, I guess that works to stop my tears".

Matt tried to move his eyes to where her face would be. He couldn't stop smiling. It felt so good to have you in his arms. He squeezed her tightly. You are the love of his life. Matt still had an enormous smile on his face.

"I love you, sweetheart". Matt pulled you close to him and he put his arm around you. He kissed your head. "You're gonna be alright."

"We're gonna be alright". 

Matt smiled and squeezed your hand a little bit. "You're...completely right. I'm so sorry I just freaked out. I just...I don't want to ever lose you. You're everything to me. I've never loved anyone as much as I love you. And I don't think I ever will again".

He squeezed your hand harder and he held you close. It's like Matt wanted to hug you forever.

"It's okay baby, I know if the roles were reversed I would freak out too. I love you Matthew Michael Murdock". 

"I love you more sweetheart".

Next: Chapter 2

[nullshocked]

❤️🧡💛💚💙💜💗💖💕💘🤎🤍🖤 sorry i mean uhhhhhhhhhhhh dealers choice

Send a Heart + a Ship For a Brief Snippet 💗 slow kiss / gentle kiss / inevitable / soft

He’s waiting outside the bar, chainsmoking through a pack of cigarettes when someone asks: “Are you Jean?”

The name always makes him tense. He only lets two people call him Jean anymore: Promise because she’s known him long enough that she’s allowed to, and Virgil because that’s his partner. The only other people who know that name that are people he doesn’t want to talk to, and frankly? Jack has no clue who the fuck this man is. Some older human, made haggard by too much alcohol and the late hour. No names or memories spring to mind.

“Sorry,” Jack grunts. “Wrong guy.”

“You don’t remember me?” The man asks. “I came by so many times.”

And looking at him, Jack thinks he might sort of recognize him. Or rather, he recognizes the kind of man he is. There were a lot of men like him back then, their faces rendered foggy and incomprehensible by the shit he was using. And that just means he has even less reason to talk to him. He takes a drag off his cigarette and blows smoke in his face.

“Fuck off.”

The man doesn’t like that. Beer makes him as mean as it makes Jack stupid enough to pick a fight. He grabs Jack’s arm and Jack stops listening to anything he has to say. Panic seizes him the way it does when anyone suddenly grabs him, kicking and shouting, trying to twist himself out of his own jacket just to get away.

He nearly tumbles over when something slams into the man and knocks him over, wobbly knees struggling against the momentum of the man hitting the pavement. It takes Jack a few seconds to register Virgil, the taller man placing himself between Jack and the man. The elf doesn’t even have to say anything. The man takes one look at him, scrambles to his feet, and staggers down the street away from them.

Jack works his jaw and leans against the wall. “Asshole.”

“You okay?” Virgil asks quietly.

“Couldn’t take no for an answer, that’s all.” Jack fishes out another cigarette from the dwindling pack, fingers shaking as he goes to light it. He feels sick to his stomach. More nicotine isn’t likely to help that, but if he doesn’t keep his hands busy he’ll just end up tearing at his own skin.

“Can we go home?”

“Yeah.”

His free hand finds Virgil’s arm, fingers tangling in the sleeve of his coat. Jack always feels strange showing any outward affection to him in public, feeling ridiculous and clingy for doing so. But right now he doesn’t want to stray too far from the other man. His nerves ease a little more with Virgil close to his side.

When they get back to the apartment, he finally breaks down and cries—angry, bitter tears, frustration and sorrow melding together until it overwhelms him. He presses his palms into his eyes and starts to sink to the floor, but Virgil catches him in his arms and pulls him in.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry—” He feels pathetic and weak, that somehow all this time can pass and yet it never stops. Something finds him, sometimes a man and sometimes a memory, and it all comes flooding back again.

Virgil doesn’t waste words. He holds Jack in his arms and lets him cry, his fingers massaging the base of his neck. And when Jack runs out of tears to cry, he bends down and kisses the corner of his eye, then his forehead, then the tip of his nose. And then he takes Jack’s face on his hands and kisses his lips, long and slow and gentle.

“You’ve got me?” Jack murmurs, more statement than question.

“I’ve got you,” Virgil responds softly.

[starlessskies94]

Consequence (Joel Miller x OC)

Summary: What if Joel survived his injuries from the Abby and Fireflies attack but ends up with really bad amnesia. He can’t remember his wife, Ellie, or the Outbreak; only before. How will his family bring back the man they once knew?

Pairing: JoelMiller x OC

Note: For some reason this one was rather difficult for me to write and I'm still not 100% happy with it. However I hope it doesn't disappoint because I don't want to obsess too much to the point of causing myself writers block so I'm posting, moving on and hoping for the best. *Trigger warning- description of a panic attack*

Chapter Twenty Eight

He felt numb. His heart ached, smashing to pieces like every window in the room. Shattered glass littered the floor around him, broken bricks leaving dents in the floor from where they’d been thrown. His hands were trembling so much that he hadn’t even noticed they were bleeding. It had been over an hour since they’d driven away with Ada and Joel still hadn’t any idea what to do. He could follow their trail but knew he’d be outnumbered. He could head off in the opposite direction and hopefully meet Tommy at the radio tower, but the longer he left Ada the more risk she’d have of being tortured or worse. He was running out time. 

He needed to make a decision. He swore that he’d keep her safe. That those bastards wouldn’t touch her and he’d failed. Just as he’d failed to stop Ellie and Tommy from getting hurt back in Jackson. 

Just as he’d failed to save Sarah. 

He was weak, broken. Collapsing under the weight of it. Dropping to his knees, chest tight and suffocating. He pulled at the neckline of his shirt in a feeble attempt to force the air back into his struggling lungs. His breaths were ragged and short. He couldn’t move. Couldn’t think. Feet and hands tingle as his vision is blurred and dizzy. He couldn’t do this. Not anymore. What was the point of fighting? The point of possessing so much strength if he couldn’t even protect the people he loved. 

He was falling and this time he could see no way out. 

Dark shapes rush into his vision, as hands grab onto the front of his jacket. “Joel…easy; deep breaths. In and out…” the voice sounded a thousand miles away. “Joel, look at me.” The voice said again. “What’s wrong with him?” Another voice asked in distress. The question was answered though hell if Joel knew what was said. “Joel…can you hear me?” That voice, he knew that voice, for the longest time he didn’t think he’d ever hear it again. He took a deep breath and held it for a second or two before letting it go. Repeating the process several times as his vision began to clear and his chest settled from the rapid palpitations hammering through flesh and bone. “Ellie?” he croaked. “Yeah it’s me. Just breathe slow like Tommy said okay? You’re alright.” 

He felt the knot in his chest loosen at the sight of her and Tommy. His brother, kneeling on one side of him and Ellie on the other. 

“Hey, you good?” Tommy asked tentatively. Joel just nodded his head and took another deep breath. “Yeah I’m good, thanks.” He said, patting him on his shoulder. Tommy smiled as relief flooded his face. Letting his weight take him as he sat fully beside Joel. 

“Anytime. It’s good to see you alive, big brother.”  

“You sure you’re okay?” Both brothers paused at the question. Joel looked across at Ellie, the tension thick between them. Was she still angry at him? Did she still hate him? She didn’t look mad. If anything she looked worried. Just like she had when he’d found himself impaled back at the university. Scared. Concerned. Fragile. Looking into those large eyes staring at him now, it was like she was fourteen again. Except she wasn’t. Not anymore. She’d grown up. All grown up. And Joel had missed most of it. He gave a ghost of a smile and took a chance. 

“I’m good, kiddo. Don’t you worry about me.” He dismissed, in that way that he always did. But he froze when he saw Ellie’s eyes widen at his words. Shit. Had he said the wrong thing? He seemed to have a habit of doing that around Ellie. But her brows lost their crease; her face falling pale. Eyes welling with tears. A small broken gasp escaping her chapped lips. 

“Wait, you…called me kiddo…you know who I am?” He almost cried himself hearing how broken she sounded asking the question. 

Oh baby girl. You have no idea how much I’ve missed you. 

“Course’ I do, could never forget you.” He chuckled in spite of himself. His heart ached at the warmth that filled her gaze at him. He was caught off guard when she flung herself at him in a hug. It felt like coming home. The only thing missing was Ada. He squeezed her tightly; not wanting to let go. This had been something he’d thought gone. And he’d be damned if he ever let her go ever again. 

“Oh hey… it’s okay. I’m okay.” They both knew he wasn’t just talking about his injuries. His memory loss. Their broken relationship. It was about everything. Ellie had said herself that she’d wanted to try to forgive him. Maybe now they had this second chance to fix things; she find it in her heart to really do that. And even if she couldn’t, Joel was just grateful she wanted anything to do with him at all. He’d take what he could get. Even if it was just this. Just this one small minute made up for the two years of silence and pain. 

It was quickly broken by Tommy rising to his feet and surveying the damage that surrounded them. 

“What the hell happened here Joel?” He asked in concern. It was hard not to be. The infected littering the ground, the bullet holes plastered into the walls and doors. It was evident there had been a fight and struggle of some sort here. Joel tried not to look over at the blood stains that marked the sidewalk. Ada’s blood. He squeezed his eyes shut as he tried not to dwell on the events flashing through his mind once again.   

“She’s gone…those bastards took her. I wanted to stop them but she wouldn’t let me.” He saw them both pale at the news and tried to keep his composure as he explained. 

They sat with him as he told them all that had happened that morning. What he and Ada had figured out between them and their plan to find them and decide how to move forward. He saw the darkness in Ellie’s eyes as he told them what they’d done to her mother before dragging her away. Her expression was stone-like and harsh. He recognised the hatred and anger in her eyes as he had seen in his own; the only difference was; he hated seeing it in Ellie. It tormented him as he followed them back to the theater they’d apparently been staying in. There was still tension in the air. Joel felt like he was drowning in it; his head swaying like a limp tree in a harsh wind. And it wasn’t the after effects of his panic attack. 

He watched Ellie up ahead; seemingly leading the way. She strode with purpose, confidence. She’d grown so much in the last two years. Damn he’d missed so much. It had been hard not being part of her life for all that time. Especially because Ada had tried her hardest to bridge the divide between them again. But every time the teen pushed back. Now Joel wasn’t sure where he stood. She’d hugged him like she missed him. The concern in her features had seemed sincere. And Tommy had said that she had been the first one of the group to pack her stuff when they’d planned to head out to look for him. 

As they made their way back through the town; Joel followed as they led him towards the old building. However he paused when he felt the pair flinch at a corner. Ellie pulled out her gun as did Tommy. They both seemed in sync with each other as they split up and flanked opposite sides and moved along the side of the building's walls, Joel followed suit. Instincts perhaps a little rusty but still there; and positioned himself with his back to the wall as they moved further forward advancing towards the door. 

A man from what he could make out was trying rather harshly to wrench the handle of the large door. His hood was up making it difficult to see the intruder's face. Ellie darted forward with her gun trained on him, finger already on the trigger and ready to shoot. The fact that she didn’t hesitate bothered Joel, he didn’t like seeing her so unfazed by the possibility of killing. “Don’t fucking move.” She spat. The man froze, raising his hands in surrender. “Turn around slowly.” the man did as she said. But the moment he turned, all weapons were instantly withdrawn as Ellie sighed in relief. 

“What the hell are you doing here?” She asked. Jesse dropped his arms in a bout of relief at seeing his friends. “I wanted to help you guys find Joel…” He stopped short as Tommy cleared his throat, catching the young man’s attention. “But…Uh…I see you guys already found him…” Ellie held back a small laugh as she exhaled through her nose, “Hello Sir, glad to see you’re okay.” He uttered awkwardly, Joel just smiled politely. “Thank you son. I appreciate your wanting to help.” Jesse nodded, trying to hide the pride that beamed in his chest from the given praise. Ellie knew Jesse had always respected Joel greatly and his opinion meant more than he’d ever admit. “How the hell did you find us?” Tommy asked. Jesse just shrugged with a smirk; “You guys were not easy to track but I had a good teacher.” The younger Miller scoffed jovially at the comment, “Kiss ass.” “What are you talking about? I meant Maria.” 

Joel snorted as Tommy’s face fell. “Walked right into that one didn’t you.” His brother just scoffed sarcastically “Yeah well, I’m sure we all got plenty to catch up on. So we should probably head inside.” 

Ellie wasted no time and quickly ushered everyone inside the theater. Dina rushing to the door when she heard their footsteps. She was taken aback when she saw both Joel and Jesse walking through into the lobby. Ellie tried not to react when she rushed towards Jesse, grabbing him in a hug. The two hurry inside sharing hushed whispers as they go. The redhead walks on past them and heads for the back room, Joel watching her as she goes. He turns to ask Tommy if he’s missed something going on but his brother just replies with a knowing look and follows after Ellie. 

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

She stares at the map of the town laid out on the large table that sits in the center of the room. Voices fade in and out of focus as she’s lost in her own thoughts. 

“Ellie?...Ellie…” A voice calls, catching her attention as she glances up to see every face looking at her. It had been a few hours since they’d come back. Had some well deserved food and restocked on supplies before gathering in the back room to plan their next move to rescue her mother. But so far she’d paid no attention to any of it. Her mind had been processing a million things at once. To get back one parent, only to then lose the other was too much for her. To hear what those fuckers had done to her mother made her blood boil to the point of almost exploding. But she knew she had to be smart if they were going to get her back. If they were going to get home. 

She turned towards Tommy as he called for attention again. “Sorry…run that by me again.” She said a little too rushed. But thankfully Tommy didn’t question it. Dina took the moment of silence to turn up the radio by the side of the room as the frequency crackled to life. She’d managed to fix it in the time she’d spent alone, explaining to the group it was a loose connection that had been easily rectified. She moved back towards the map and pulled out a marker as she pinpointed different spots for everyone to see. 

“Okay…so, the numbers are locations. See? The radio tower? That’s six. And there’s a lot of chatter coming out of two, so I’m assuming that’s their home base.” She explained. “What about the hospital? I’m pretty sure they're based there too.” Tommy asked. Dina took a second to glance over the map before pointing to the other side of town. “There? I think. Thirteen maybe? I have heard some orders being sent out from there. But it’s not much to go on.” The man deflated at the information, silence falling on the group. “I’ve watched them for the last few days, they take day and night shifts. Reckon it’d be easier to move at night when the groups are smaller.” Joel suggested, as Ellie nodded in agreement. “That’s a good idea but we still have no leads on where they’ve taken mom.” They shared a look, both worried for wife and mother. Jesse glanced at Dina and Tommy; the three sharing the same thought. If anyone was going to find Ada…it was those two. Just as the younger Miller moved to speak up, the radio once again crackled to life. 

‘Fatality reported in Nine. Repeat fatality in Nine. Over. This is thirteen responding. What’s the situation? Over. This is Nine. One of our own was killed by the lone female prisoner. Prisoner is now detained. Requesting further orders. Over.’ 

“Female prisoner?” Jesse questioned. Joel and Ellie wasted no time in jumping to action. “They’re talking about Ada. Quick Dina, which location is nine?” Joel asked. “Uh…I’m not sure. It could be one of two possible places. One is here…” She pointed to the map stating the downtown area. “The courthouse…and the other is here…” She moved her hand to the other side of the map. “At the town hall. But they’re at opposite ends of each other and I don’t know for sure which it is.” He nodded. “Okay, then we split up. Tommy, you and Jesse head for the town hall and Ellie and I can make our way downtown to the courthouse. Dina could you stay here and keep a track of their movements on the radio.” “Of course.” She smiled. The others wasted no time in packing up once again, making their move towards the door and heading out. Tommy gave Joel a pat on his shoulder before leaving, telling him to stay safe. His older brother returned the words in turn before watching him and Jesse head out. He waited patiently by the door for Ellie to catch up, giving her the time she needed to say goodbye to Dina.

He wouldn’t push this time. If she needed space, he would give her that. When she finally emerged from the back room she walked past him without a word and he tried not to take it personally. It would take time to be like they were again. Joel knew that. If he wanted her trust back, he’d have to earn it. 

[wildlife4life]

Full moon bond or once upon a buddie intrigue me for wip asks if you’d like to share anything 😊

Because I admire you and your work so much, I will gladly share snippets from both!

Full moon bond is very popular today and I've answered a few more about it here. Here is another snippet:

Maddie and Chimney were the last to arrive, strolling up to the camp site looking slightly haggard and very tired. Jee was apparently going through another sleep regression period and lately super attached to both her parents. Technically they didn't need to shift during the full moon due to being lynx shifters instead of wolves, but Chimney says that he's been joining full moon gatherings for so long now that he swears he can feel the pull of the moon just like a wolf. Maddie, having taken Chimney's bite, says she feels the same. Plus they're pack and the bond would be very inconvenient to ignore when they can feel the others had shifted and the thoughts that are being shared. Maddie makes a beeline for Eddie the moment she notices him and Eddie braces himself. He knows exactly what she is going to speak to him about. Its the same conversation every full moon since her turning. Brown eyes misty with concern, the female lynx plants herself in front of her brother's partner. Her gaze flickers away for a second, taking note of the magical markings around the campground. A deep breath in and Eddie suspects she's trying to catch a whiff of Buck's scent. Maddie recognizes the witch's work and she was probably hoping at the sight of it, that Buck had joined the shifters this full moon. She becomes further disheartened when that is not the case and her saddened eyes return to Eddie. "He told me he was going to think about." She says softly. Buck has been telling his sister that before every full moon since she took Chimney's bite. It was lie every time and only to have one less person pester the witch about joining the pack. Slowly, Maddie reaches out and lets her fingers hover over Eddie's bare chest, glowing gold orbs tracing the geometric brand that marked him as Buck's mate in replacement for a bite. "I thought when you two mated, when he took you as his anchor Evan would..." Evan would finally join the pack and be one with them all during the full moon. Yea, Eddie thought so too.

Once Upon a Buddie is much beloved and the first fic I actually created for buddie and I really hope to get back to it.

Hot deputy whipped his full attention towards the jailed man, causing Buck to take in sharp breath. The entire force of the deputy’s anger and attractiveness were slightly overwhelming and made him a little weak in the knees. “Oh, you’re not?” Hot deputy growled and shivers went down Buck’s spine, imagining that same tone used in another less civilized situation. “Then what are you? Huh? Cus what I see is a stranger, an outsider from a big city driving my son around and feeding into his out-of-control imagination.  Letting him believe that you are some sort of Prince!” Buck jumped to his feet, “Hey man all I did was listen.  I didn’t confirm or deny anything.  And I drove him to a hospital, a safe haven where he told me his mother works!”  He was getting tired of the being accused as some sort of child perv.  “Christopher ran away on his own accord.” “My son has no reason to run away!” the Deputy yelled. “No one would listen to him! And when someone finally did, he was told he was crazy, making everything up.  He felt alone, so he ran to find someone who would listen, who would maybe understand!” The Deputy took several steps forward, fist clinching tight at his side, “Don’t act like you know my son!” “Diaz that is enough!” Sheriff Grant jerked the Deputy back at the collar of his jacket before turning back to Buck, “You too Buckley.” Buck threw his hands up in surrender and dropped back on the bed, “I’m done answering questions. Give me my phone call and corroborate my story.  I want out of this town.”

WIP tag game

[bluejaysandblackbats]

It Takes A Village

Fandom: YJ98, Flashfam, DC Comics

Summary: After witnessing Bart murder someone, his friends scramble to cover Bart's tracks and stumble upon an international scandal as a result.

(Minor background: Bart took a gap year, and Conner did two years of community college. This starts shortly after Bart's 19th birthday. So, Conner and Jenni are 20, Bart and Cissie are 19, Tim and Cassie are 18, I made Greta 17 for the sake of the fic, and Judy is 15. I decided to make Owen 22 and Thad 16 for plot reasons. Clark and Conner are brothers in this fic, and Clark is 12 years older for the sake of this fic, so he's 32.)

Chapters: 10/?

Characters: Bart Allen, Conner Kent, Judy Garrick, Jay Garrick, Joan Garrick, Cissie King-Jones, Cassie Sandsmark, Tim Drake, Greta Hayes, Jenni Ognats, Thad Thawne, Owen Mercer, Meloni Thawne, Clark Kent, Wally West, Linda Park, Courtney Whitmore, President Thawne

Relationship(s): KonBart, CissieCassie, WallyLinda

Additional Tags: Serial Killer AU, No Powers AU, Angst, Dark Comedy, Bart Allen Kills in This Fic, Minor Thad Thawne, Separated in Childhood, Some Smut in This

Chapter Ten: Ill

After the fight, Bart’s fever spiked, and he tried to say goodnight to rush to the parking garage. Grant and Grant’s friend Tommy and Tommy’s friend Dinah and Tommy’s father, Ted… They all wanted to talk. His line of vision thinned out and his stomach dropped as he continued to nod and smile. He couldn’t muster the energy to speak. “Oh man, I forgot… Bart’s got work tomorrow. We gotta go,” Grant stated. Bart nodded, smiling at everyone, mouthing goodnight but not managing a sound. 

They nearly made it to the garage when Bart got tunnel vision, and his ears started ringing. He grabbed Grant’s arm in a last-ditch effort to keep his balance, but his eyes rolled back, his knees buckled, and if it hadn’t been for Grant’s quick thinking, he would’ve landed on his face. 

**

Bart woke up in the hospital, groggy and speechless as he reached for his IV. Grant stopped him. “Hey, buddy… Let’s not do that. We’re in the emergency room. You took a little spill, and they want you to stay until your temperature—.” 

“No… I have to go home. They’re gonna call my grandparents,” Bart mumbled, “I don’t want my—.” 

Grant shook his head. Bart sank into the bed, too weak to move. “Bart, they called your grandpa a couple of minutes ago. Bart, why didn’t you tell me you were sick? I would’ve understood,” Grant frowned. Bart shut his eyes. 

“I have to call my grandpa… I have to—. I don’t want him to come here,” Bart mumbled as he opened his eyes and reached into his pocket to grab his phone. 

He called Barry because he was scared to call Iris. “Bart! Hey, are you okay? We just got a call saying you passed out,” Barry panted over the phone. 

“Grandpa, you don’t have to come out this way. I’ll be out of the hospital before you get here—.” 

“Bart, what happened?” Barry asked. 

Bart didn’t want Iris to come to the hospital. It would’ve reminded him of the observatory. It would’ve made everything worse. “Grandpa, I can hear you moving around. Just stop for a minute,” Bart pleaded in Interlac. He rarely used it with Barry because the language sounded strange on Barry’s tongue. With Iris, he dropped the veil and spoke in mostly Interlac. It rolled off their tongues naturally, leaving Bart the space to say everything he wanted as fast as it came to him. 

“What’s wrong?” Barry asked. 

“Nothing… I’m sick and bit off a little more than I could chew today. I’m fine. I’ll stay home for a few days after I sign myself out—.”

“Bart, if you don’t want us to come down there, you’ve gotta promise to stay until they discharge you,” Barry whispered. Bart shut his eyes. 

“Fine… And Grandpa, can I ask you a quick question?” Bart asked. He softened, hoping Barry could answer something for him. 

“Ask away,” Barry whispered. 

“When you found out Grandma and I were alive—. Grandpa, did Grandma ever tell you what happened to her when she wasn’t with me?” Bart questioned. He felt a sick pit in his stomach as the words left his mouth. 

“Not much. She said she did what she had to to get you out of there. I don’t think she wants us to know… I try to respect that,” Barry answered. Bart sighed. “I know… Get some rest. Keep us posted. I love you, Pup.”

“Love you too, Grandpa. And goodnight just in case I fall asleep and forget to text you later,” Bart whispered. They hung up, and Bart pressed his palms against his eyelids.

“You okay, Bart?” Grant asked. Bart nodded. 

“Did it look bad?” Bart asked. 

“Your nose started bleeding and you threw up in the ambulance. It looked like coffee grounds—.” 

“Shit. Don’t worry. I’m taking something for that… Thanks for staying with me,” Bart smiled, “But I’ll be okay if you have to leave. I’ll call Cissie and tell her after—.” 

“Bart, is something going on that you don’t want me to know about?” Grant asked. Bart shook his head. 

“I just don’t like people to make a fuss over my health. I’m gonna be fine. I promised my grandparents that I’ll stay until the hospital discharges me, so you don’t have to worry about—.”

“I don’t have anywhere to be… And I’m not making a fuss. I’m hanging out with a friend. You know… That’s the first time I’ve heard you speak anything other than English,” Grant noted. 

“I feel like I’m never saying the right thing in English. I’ve never been one for nuance,” Bart half-joked. 

“I think you’ve gotten the hang of it. There’s a lot of distance between what you’re saying and what you’re thinking now. I know that for sure… Listen, I know you didn’t have it easy. You bounced around a lot, too… And I know we don’t have the same experiences, but I can’t help but feel like you’re trying to mask something. Some kind of—. I don’t know. You’re masking some sort of trauma,” Grant observed. It made Bart feel exposed and naked. 

“Grant, you’re getting dangerously close to something that’s none of your—.” 

“Bart, I’m not trying to hurt you… I think you’re hurting yourself. I want you to know there are places for you to talk to people about what’s going on that aren’t like—. Places that aren’t traditional talk therapy. Your stress is killing you. I’ve never known you to be sick before, and you can’t honestly tell me you came down with—.” 

“Grant, stop. Stop, okay?” Bart interrupted as he tried to close his eyes and go to sleep. 

“Okay. I’ll be here when you wake up,” Grant replied. 

**

Bart’s phone vibrated in his pocket and he shifted uncomfortably as he reached in his pocket for it. His headache subsided. He answered his phone without looking. “Cissie called and said they kept you overnight at the hospital. She told your job you wouldn’t be in for a few days, and I’m on my way to the—.”

“Tim?” Bart questioned, still confused. 

“Cissie asked me to come early to make sure you don’t land yourself in the hospital again. Besides, we can listen to Creachur King and Late Night Licks when they drop,” Tim replied. 

“Late Night Licks is back?” Bart asked. 

“Who listens to Late Night Licks?” Grant asked, half-asleep with his eyes shut. He lay over Bart’s lap. 

“My friend, Tim. If you’re in town, you can listen to the new episode with us. I’ve been meaning to introduce you two to each other. Tim, would you mind if Grant listened with us?” Bart asked. 

“I wouldn’t mind. Cissie told me Grant wanted to stay a night or two. I heard they’re having a celebrity do a voiceover for the premier’s story of the week along with an interview,” Tim replied, “I gotta get back on the road, but I’ll see you in a little bit.” 

“Alright… I’m gonna get some more sleep. Wake me up when you get here,” Bart whispered before hanging up. He fell asleep with his phone on his chest, and Grant sat up. 

**

Grant, Tim, and Bart squeezed together in the queen-sized bottom bunk, listening to Late Night Licks through their headphones using a splitter. Bart started to nod off before sirens startled him awake. He ripped his headphones out and gave Tim the laptop before climbing over Grant to go to the bathroom. He returned a few minutes later to grab a bag of gummies from his drawer, and he ate three. “What’s that?” Grant asked. 

“You don’t want one,” Tim answered without looking. Grant’s eyes widened. “Yeah.” 

Bart nodded. “He’s right,” Bart replied as he put his headphones on to finish the episode. A few minutes before it ended, Bart let his head tilt back, feeling heavy and weightless at the same time. He shut his eyes, gently clearing his throat. He opened his eyes, turning toward the door. “Bart?” Grant whispered. Bart climbed over Grant. “Where are you headed?” 

“The shower,” Bart mumbled as he took his phone with him. 

Bart soaked in the tub, shutting his eyes as he scrubbed his skin. He leaned back into the water, letting it cover his face, and he ran a hand through his hair. The sponge in his hand lightly brushed his forehead, and he groaned. He took the sponge and ran it down the underside of his left arm. He couldn’t hold onto a single thought as it came to him, so he honed in on the sensations that felt the best. He ran the sponge down the center of his chest, past his waistline, and he shut his eyes, absentmindedly touching and squeezing. Sweat dripped down his temple as he took his other hand, cupping the underside of his balls as they twitched in his palm. He groaned long, low, and drawn out from the back of his throat as he came into the tub. He let the water drain and stood still, watching until it was gone before turning the shower on. 

He got out once he started shivering, and he dressed before calling Conner. “Bart, hey. How are you?” Conner asked. “Do you feel a little better?” 

“I love you,” Bart whispered, still half out of it. “I’m okay. I’m a little high right now, but I—. I—. Playing with your hair and—. The little bit of hair above your waistline—. What’s that called?” 

Conner laughed over the phone. “ A snail trail? ” Conner asked. 

“Mhm… I like that. And I like the way you sound when you wake up and—. Conner, I like you. Everything about you. You’re perfect to me,” Bart whispered. Conner made a noise over the phone. 

“I like you and love you too, Bart… Try to get some rest tonight—.”

“I want to hear about your day,” Bart interrupted as he draped himself across the couch, wrapping himself in a blanket. “I want to hear your voice.”

“Okay… Well, this morning I had french toast and bacon in the cafeteria. Then, I walked to class and Cassie took me to her gym. I like her gym better than mine because the girls there like to recommend songs to each other, and a couple of them brought their boyfriends who were super cool… And Clark invited us out for milkshakes at this new place. Lois ordered for everyone, and I had a strawberry milkshake with collagen in it. That was pretty cool,” Conner took a deep breath, “And I’m on lunch right now at work… But I get off at three in the morning. If you get up late tonight, you can text me. I’ll probably be up.”

“Sounds good… Thank you for talking to me about your day. You don’t know how much it helps,” Bart whispered. 

“Of course. Thank you for asking about my day. If we don’t talk tonight, I want to talk to you about your day tomorrow,” Conner whispered. 

“Okay… Talk to you soon,” Bart mumbled. 

“Okay. Bye, baby,” Conner replied before hanging up. Cissie came in the front door and frowned. 

“Bart, why is your hair wet?” Cissie asked. She grabbed a towel from her room and dried him off. “Tim and Grant were supposed to be—.” Cissie sighed, and Bart looked up with a big smile on his face. “What?”

“Give me a hug. I missed you,” Bart whispered. Cissie softened, sat down, and wrapped her arms around him. “I had a good day…”

“Did you smoke today?” Cissie asked. Bart shook his head. 

“Gummies,” Bart replied. Cissie chuckled. 

“Oh, nice… I had a good day, too,” Cissie replied. Bart lit up.

“Tell me all about it,” Bart requested with gentle enthusiasm. 

Cissie sank into the couch beside Bart, relaxing her shoulders, and she glanced at him. “Oh, I crushed it in class today. We had a comprehension check this morning, and I was so ready for it. Then, I—. Oh, I got you something,” Cissie answered as she reached into her pocket and gave Bart a little bottle of juice. “I got it at the juice bar down the street. It’s a wellness shot. I got it for like seventy percent off because they were about to close… And they were gonna toss it.” 

Bart opened the bottle and downed it without a word, and he turned to her with a sour expression. “I see why it’s a shot… Thanks, Cissie. Did you get something for yourself?” Bart questioned with his eyes closed. He lay over her lap, reached for the remote, and turned the TV on without looking. 

Cissie took the remote and turned the news on. “I did. I got myself a celery juice—.” Bart heard someone on the TV speaking his language, and he sat up. “Oh god, Bart. Isn’t that awful? They say he was in there a while before they found him,” Cissie replied. Bart kissed her temple and returned to his room, leaving Cissie perplexed.

**

When Bart was well enough, he started spending all his free time at the park on jogs. Three days. Watching and waiting. He marked the time on his skin with lipstick. Easy to wash off. The times varied. So, his afternoon jogs proved to be equally fruitful. Dr. Eric Donnovan. From the park, Bart found his car. From the car, Bart found his opening. Eric Donnovan always parked in a secluded area. It was usually within a two-block radius of the park and hidden well enough that Bart could be alone for as long as he needed. 

Bart read more about him in some of the other files when he could stomach looking at them. He couldn’t bear to read Thad’s, so he read the others. Dr. Eric Donnovan botched more medical procedures than he successfully completed, which led Bart to believe he was harming children on purpose. The desire to kill him led Bart down a rabbit hole of vengeful gestures. He wanted to kill Donnovan so much that it made him sick inside. It twisted his stomach into knots and he couldn’t sleep. He tossed and turned, thinking of all the ways he could harm him. He couldn’t do it within the first two weeks, but he knew the third week… The third week, when he went to visit Conner, he’d have the opportunity to do it. He couldn’t visit Conner the first week because he was still too tired to drive, so Conner visited the following week.

**

Conner kissed Bart’s neck, reaching up Bart’s shirt. “I missed you last week. I’m glad you’re feeling better,” Conner whispered between kisses. Bart seemed limp and uninvolved. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know,” Bart whispered. Conner stopped and sat beside Bart, waiting patiently for an explanation or a description of Bart’s feelings. 

“Are you okay?” Conner asked. 

“I think I’m distracted… I can’t get my head right,” Bart mumbled, “I’m sorry.” Conner smiled. 

“Don’t feel bad… We could actually watch the movie we put on,” Conner offered. Bart looked at Conner’s sad eyes and something in him cracked. He couldn’t tell Conner everything, but he figured it wouldn’t kill him to tell Conner a little bit. 

Bart leaned over and grabbed his file from the drawer. “Conner, I want to—. You have to promise not to tell anyone if I show you this,” Bart whispered. 

“I promise,” Conner answered. 

Bart opened the file and took out a set of pictures. “Remember how I said these were my medical records? I wasn’t lying, but—. This was—. Look,” Bart stammered. He showed Conner a picture of a doctor forcing a mask over his mouth and nose while nurses held him down. He was careful to show the pictures that didn’t clearly show the doctors’ faces. Conner looked despite everything in his body screaming for him to look away. He swallowed hard as tears streamed down his cheeks. “Some of the procedures were normal but most of them were experiments to see how much I could take mentally. My pain tolerance. How long I could go without sleep. It was—. Effectively it was torture. I never hugged anyone. I never held hands. Behind glass... I never knew what my grandma smelled like.” 

“Bart,” Conner whispered, “This is what you—. No one would ever know you came from this.”

“That’s why I’m not always responsive. I’m—. I know it’s not normal now, but I—. Moving here, I didn’t know how anything worked. I didn’t know—. It’s so hard to reach out sometimes because I feel like it’s easier not to show anything, but—. I want you to know me. 

“I want you to understand that even if it isn’t comparable to anyone else’s emotions, I love you more than I’ve loved anyone. I want you, and I need you. I want you to need me, too. This isn’t to make you pity me. This is so you know, I came from a place where I wasn’t allowed to experience love in its purest form, and I love you despite everything I was taught. I was taught not to love or connect, and I love you now,” Bart explained. Conner kissed Bart’s cheek. 

“Thank you for sharing this with me. Thank you for trusting me… I—. Bart, I’m sorry for crying at this,” Conner smiled. Bart put his file away, turned to him, and wiped Conner’s cheeks. 

“Thank you for all the love you’ve shown me… And thank you for showing me what patience and humanity look like,” Bart answered. They kissed. His lips kept finding Conner’s, never truly finding air until Conner pulled away. 

“Do you want to watch a stupid movie?” Conner asked. 

“Let’s squeeze into Cissie’s bed and force her to watch something dumb,” Bart smiled. 

Conner paused, looking deep into Bart, and Bart froze, wondering if Conner found something he didn’t like. But Conner smiled, gently kissing his forehead. “You’re safe now,” Conner reassured. The word safe echoed in Bart’s head, and he smiled, trying to shake it off. “No one’s going to hurt you anymore—.” 

Hurt. Conner acknowledged the part that no one else seemed to. The hurt. It wasn’t the lack of safety. It was the fact that people hurt him and his parents and his aunt and uncle. It all hurt, and Conner understood that. Bart lay down, pulling Conner down beside him. Killing for Bart was his only way of returning that hurt to the senders. He hid his face in Conner’s shirt. “I changed my mind. Let’s stay here,” Bart mumbled. Conner nodded as he held Bart close.