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ddejavvu · 1 year

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Love to Lie - Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Reader (Part 4/FINAL PART) / Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3

Summary: Your worst fear is recognized when Bradley’s jet goes down with him in it. You’re not sure why you’re still his emergency contact, you’d broken up two weeks ago, but when you rush into the hospital room, you discover that you have a chance to fix the mistake you’d been cursing yourself for. The only problem is, you have to lie to Bradley, and you discover that you love doing it if it means you get to be with him again.

Contents/Warnings: fem!reader, Mitchell!reader, angst, angst with a fluffy/happy ending, amnesia trope, hospitals and their subsequent medical details, memory loss, goose and carole are still alive because i say so

WC: 4.1K / navigation / inbox

A/N: the real last part! i sincerely hope you enjoyed this series, it's very dear to my heart and so is all of the wonderful feedback you've given me on it. I love hearing what you think, it keeps me motivated to write more for you and I'm just so happy that I got to share this with you all. Thank you to anyone who's enjoyed this, I'm privileged to have shared your time and gotten your love in return. <333

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

You feel like he’s gutted you. Like he’s plunged the hand holding the ring right into your stomach, twisted it so that the gem inside slits your insides into ribbons, and wrenched it back out dripping and glistening in crimson.

He looks so hopeful, eyes earnest and shining as he stares at you, that damn ring held between you like a life preserve. Like if you let him toss it over your finger, reel you in with his tender heartstrings, you wouldn’t drown. You’d escape the dreadful ocean of grief that’s been slowly filling your lungs since you’d left, you’d give your tired legs a break from treading water if you could just say yes. The word is on the tip of your tongue, and your achy heart begs you to say it, but you can’t.

Not when he doesn’t know.

“Bradley,” You whimper, reaching out to lay a gentle touch over his hand. You wrap your hand around both his own and the ring, squeezing tightly, “I have to tell you something.”

Bradley’s enthusiasm wanes. He hadn’t waited long enough. You’re not in love with him yet; he rushed into things just like he had before and he’d ruined it. How did he manage to ruin it two times? The best thing in his life, and he’s fucked it up twice in a row now.

You’re looking at him with eyes full of sadness, and he catches a flash of pity in them; just like he’d feared. His stomach sours and he balks, spooking like a startled horse.

“No, no. No, it’s okay, you’re- you’re not ready yet, sweetheart, that’s okay. We can wait,” He babbles, wrenching his hand out from your own and jamming the ring back into the drawer, like if he can just get it into a safe zone, it’ll hit undo on the entire fiasco.

“No, baby,” Your face screws up, a barely-withheld sob behind your frown, “Baby that’s not- we really need to talk. Okay? I promised we would today.”

“I- I know, but-” He stammers, trying to evade your gentle touch as you pry his hand back from his dresser drawer, the ring still clutched inside and lining his palm with a layer of sweat.

“Let me talk,” You plead, “Brad, I need to come clean. Please?”

He’s sure you can see his Adam’s apple bob in his throat as he swallows what little saliva there is in his mouth, “Okay.”

“Two weeks ago,” You start, and the words feel leaden on your tongue; impossibly heavy. “-before your crash. You- you remember Javy’s crash, yeah?”

“Yeah,” His breath catches in his throat, visions of his teammate's poor girlfriend swimming in his mind. Visions of the woman he never wanted you to have to be.

“That really-” You choke on a sob, “That really freaked me out, Bradley. I realized that you could go down like that. I- I’ve always known, y’know, ‘cause of your dad. But I just- I was so young when that happened, and it wasn’t fresh, so when Javy went down… I had this revelation. That I could-” Your voice tampers down into a weak whimper, “I could lose you, Brad. I could say goodbye to you one morning and not get to say hello again in the evening. I just- lost it,” You admit, brushing away stray hair from over your red-rimmed eyes, “I’m sure you noticed I wasn’t the most pleasant to say goodbye to in the mornings. But- but baby, I was always so happy when you came home, because it meant I had more time. It felt like some awful time bomb,” You recall, “Like every time I said goodbye to you would be the last, and I couldn’t rest until you were back home. I’ve never felt like that before, I’ve always had confidence in your abilities. Even on deployment, I know you’re working with people who have your back,” You sniffle, “I’ve always known you could die, but it’s never felt that much like you would before. But then- Javy wasn’t the one who crashed,” You explain, voice thick with blubbering tears, “I mean- that was just his jet malfunctioning. And then all of a sudden I- it was like I remembered that I could lose you in some freak accident. Like it wouldn’t have to be your fault, it could just happen, and you could die. Like your dad, Bradley, I- I didn't wanna lose you like we almost lost your dad."

“That is,” You collect yourself, swallowing a heavy sob that leaves your throat achy and gutted, “My nightmare, baby.” You tangle your fingers with his where you’re still clutching his hand, squeezing tight enough to probably bruise the guy, “I don’t know what I would do if I lost you. I would die if I lost you, Brad. Even if I was alive, I’d be dead inside. I need you, I need you in my life, Bradley.”

What you’re saying sounds good to him. Terrible, of course, if he didn’t come home one day. But he is home, and you’re telling him you need him, and he can’t figure out why in the world you’ve said no twice to putting on the ring.

“You have me,” He vows, squeezing your hand right back, “Honey, you have me right here, right now. Why won’t you let me keep you?” He presses the ring into your palm, and you both feel the metal band burning your skin like it’s been superheated.

“You asked me to marry you before you crashed,” You blurt, and even though slamming a wrecking ball into your reverie of late feels like stabbing yourself in the chest, there’s something gratifying about telling the truth. About finally coming clean, about telling him exactly why you can’t say yes.

“You sat me down, and you gave me the sweetest speech in the world,” You recall with tears thick in your voice, “About how you loved me, and how you wanted to spend the rest of your life with me, and- and you proposed, and I said no.”

He chews on the inside of his cheek, analyzing the grief in your voice. You sound anguished, like you’re upset with yourself for saying no, but you didn’t say yes this time around, so he can’t believe what he hears.

He takes a deep breath, cutting off whatever you’re going to say next, “I know.”

It feels good for him to come clean, too. Even if he's dreading what'll happen, even if he thinks there's a good chance you'll march out the door, he's glad to be done with the lies. He'd loved them while they'd lasted, but they went down in flames just like his jet.

“-and-” You stop, blinking twice, “What?”

“I know,” He admits, “I- I remember, honey.”

“You- what?” Your eyes widen, and you lean forwards, gazing imploringly at Bradley, “Brad, you- you remember? You remember everything now?”

“Yeah,” He nods, watching as you process the information.

You feel sick. You’re not sure why, because you’ve already told him the truth. But memories are different than retellings, and you both know that. No explanation on your part would have conveyed the crushed, betrayed look in his eyes when you’d declined his proposal; there’s not words in the english language suitable to describe how desperately he’d pleaded for you to stay, even in just the simplest of touches to your waist, trying to pull you back to him that night.

Now he remembers that, now you’re on the same page, and when you turn it, you’re not sure what you’ll see.

The end of a chapter? The beginning of a new one? Or the blank back cover of a book, perhaps, if your luck has run dry.

“When did your memories come back?” You ask, your voice sounding faraway and dazed in the back of your mind. You’re not even sure you’ve really said it, you’re too wrapped up in worrying about what he’s thinking. If your confession had spurred on his memories, you’re not sure you’ll ever get a chance to put on that ring.

Bradley swallows what little saliva is in his mouth, “A while ago.”

“How long?” Your brows furrow impossibly deeper, your brain running circles trying to figure out what’s real and what isn’t, “Like- like since this morning?”

“Since I woke up,” He confesses with a heavy heart, because lying to you hurt even if he’d loved the outcome, “In the hospital. I- I didn’t remember at first, but they came back, uh, in a few minutes.”

You feel like you’ve walked into a cloud of smoke. Everything around you is foggy, and your brain can’t process what he’s told you. It feels like he’s lying to you, like he’s tricking you and pretending that he’s known the entire time just so as not to feel foolish. But that’s not Bradley, he doesn’t need to be smarter than you, or faster than you, or better than you, so you know he’s telling the truth.

“But- why did you lie?” You stare at him with tears glimmering in your waterline, and he’s sure this is what he looked like when he’d asked you not to go that night. Betrayed, confused, heartbroken.

“Because you did,” Bradley whimpers, wanting nothing more than to swipe a thumb under your eye and gather the tears there on his skin, taking the burden away from you.

“You came in and you asked to kiss me, and- and I wanted you to. I didn’t want to talk about what had happened, because I didn’t want you to walk out again, so I just- I lied. And I let you lie to me, too.”

You think back, and you remember how you’d walked back into the hospital room, on the verge of tears with nerves rolling in your belly. And you’d asked to kiss him, you’d given him the perfect opportunity to lie, and he’d taken it. And you can’t be mad at him, because you’d lied, too. You’re slightly hurt. It doesn’t feel good knowing that your lover- or, ex-lover lied to you. It feels even worse to know that Bradley lied because he thought you’d leave him if he told the truth. Like you’d turn tail and run, whooping through the parking lot about being free at last. But you’re the one that put that thought in his head; you’re the one that ran away. So you can’t blame him for keeping you on a short leash.

You feel too many things at once. You feel like a monster, like a cruel heartbreaker that had shattered Bradley’s to pieces. You feel confused, because you’re still processing that the past few days were entirely fake on both ends. You feel slightly betrayed, like you wish Bradley would have just told you. But you didn’t tell him either, and that makes you feel like an asshole. Too many feelings are bottled up inside, and they gush forth in a messy round of tears, one worse than Bradley’s ever seen from you.

It sets him in a panic, and he’d already been misty-eyed before. Now his own tears roll in fat droplets down his cheeks as he muscles down his sobs for your sake, dropping your hand only to take up your waist. He drags you closer on the bed, but it’s uncoordinated and a struggle as your limbs don’t cooperate. You’re limp like a ragdoll, and once he finally has you positioned in his lap he buries his face in your shoulder to soak his tears into your shirt.

“I’m sorry,” He whispers, his chest heaving and shaking with sobs, “I’m sorry I lied. I shouldn’t have, I- I know it was wrong. I just- I wanted you to stay, honey. And I thought it would be okay if we were both lying, because then I could make you fall in love with me again, and- and it was a stupid plan, I’m sorry. I should have told you, I’m sorry, I- I never wanted to make you cry. I’m sorry, honey, please don’t- please don’t cry. I love you, please, don’t cry.”

He thinks he’s allergic to your tears. His chest hurts, his face burns, and the front of his shirt is slowly sticking to his chest where you’re crying against it. He’s not sure he can handle much more of this, he can barely breathe and if you don’t stop crying soon, his lungs might collapse. He doesn’t like that you’re crying; even though he knows its a messy situation, even though he knows it’s complicated beyond belief, he’s worried that lying to you fractured your trust in him, and that won’t look good on his permanent record, especially not when he’s waiting on a yes or no from you regarding marriage.

“Honey, please,” He knows he’s not the only one at fault, he knows you’re just as guilty for lying as he is, but you’d done it out of pity, and he’d done it out of greed. You’d played pretend with him so that he didn’t lay alone in a hospital bed, but he’d lied to you so that you wouldn’t leave. He’s kept you trapped, and he’s worried you’ll break free from the cage and run.

“I’m sorry,” He cries, clutching tighter at you when you try pulling away, scared you’re on your way out, “No, honey, please, I’m so sorry-”

“Stop apologizing!’ You beg, a raw quality to your throat that bleeds into your voice. You can’t take it anymore, you can’t let him blubber out sorry after sorry for something he’s not at fault for. You wish he’d been honest, sure, but you couldn’t possibly blame him for continuing the game that you started playing.

“Just- stop, please,” You breathe, quieter now this time. “I- You’re not the one that has to be sorry.”

“But I am,” Bradley gushes, clinging tight to you, still nervous you’re trying to leave. But you’re stationed to stay in his lap, smearing away tears with the skin of your wrists.

“Well don’t be.” You huff, frustration swirling in your chest, all self-directed, “Don’t- don’t apologize for my mistakes! Bradley,” You whimper, rubbing at your eyes hard enough to see swirls beyond your vision, “I left you. I rejected your proposal, and I left you, and then when you almost died, and forgot I left you, I lied to your face. You had amnesia, Bradley, and I lied to you, in what world should you be apologizing? You should hate me,” You decide, stomach churning at just the thought, “I’m so sorry, Bradley, I- I’m so sorry! You should be throwing me out, you should kick me to the curb, and-”

“I don’t hate you.” He says, his voice gruff. He says it plain and simple, like it’s easy. Like there’s no hard feelings, like he’s not perturbed at all by your dishonesty, your betrayal.

“I love you,” He continues, and oh, does that drive the nail into the coffin you’re trapped in, “I love you so much, honey, I just don’t understand you. Why did you leave?”

“I was so scared,” You’re getting tired of saying it, but you know you have to, “Javy crashed, and I realized you could, too. Brad, I’m so sorry, I was so selfish, I didn’t wanna go through that. I left you because I didn’t wanna get hurt. I- I left to save myself from mourning your loss. But it didn’t work, and- and you still crashed, and I still almost had to mourn your loss, and it still hurt, so- so bad, Bradley. It hurt so bad,” You blubber, and he pulls you back into his chest.

“I know,” He murmurs, and you can’t fathom why he’s still comforting you, why his large, calloused hand is rubbing sweet, soft, soothing circles over your back like you’re not a traitor, “I know, honey, I can’t imagine. I’m sorry you had to get that call.”

“Come on,” You plead, your fists clenched in Bradley’s shirt, nails digging into the fabric, “Bradley, this- this isn’t fair. You should be mad at me. Even if you-” You can barely say it, the thought sounding like a fantasy; too good to be true, “Even if you love me, you should be upset. That I left, that I- that I lied, you can’t do this. You can’t comfort me, and you can’t apologize.”

“I can, too.” He argues, his brows furrowed and his mustache turned down with his frown, “Sweetheart, I know you’re sorry about all those things, you told me yourself. I know you’re sorry you left, I know you’re sorry you lied, it’s okay. It hurt when you left, but I never hated you. I wanted you back,” He admits with a shaky voice, “I wanted to fix things. And when you asked to kiss me in the hospital, I chose to let you lie to me even though I knew the truth. I liked it, baby, I loved it, because I had you back. You’re sorry, and- and I’m sorry, and we’re both sorry, so let’s do something about it. Let’s fix it, baby, please.”

“I want to fix it,” You sob, “I really do, Bradley. I- I wanted to pretend forever,” You confess, “Because it felt like it did before I left, and- you have no idea how much I wanted that back, Brad.”

“Me too,” He agrees with a rough sniffle, “I- I wanted you to pretend forever, honey. I really did, I- that’s why I proposed again,” He cringes at the memory, at the second time he’d asked to no avail, “Because I just wanted you to keep pretending, and say yes, and I thought- I thought I might be able to make you love me again, so I went for it, but I shouldn’t have. I should- I should’ve talked to you first, I should have told you the truth, but I just- I was scared, and-”

“Oh, Bradley,” You gush, grabbing the back of his neck and tugging him down into a hug. You might be smothering him, you’re not sure if he can breathe where he’s buried in your shoulder, but he doesn’t care. He’s clutching you like you’ll disappear if he doesn’t, and you’re horrified that he might really think that, but you understand why he does.

“Marry me,” He begs, “Please, honey, marry me. I’m not mad at you, I love you, please, just- just marry me, please. I can’t lose you again.”

“You won’t lose me,” You promise, tears flowing steady down your cheeks, “Honey, I promise, I won’t walk out unless you want me to.”

“I don’t,” Bradley shakes his head, his arms encircling your waist even tighter now, “I don’t want that, honey, please- please don’t.”

“I won't,” You promise, “But Brad- do you want to marry me for love, or because you’re afraid I’ll leave if you don’t?”

“I love you,” He croaks into your shoulder, and you know he’s not lying to you now, “I mean- I mean of course I’m scared to lose you. But I’m scared because I love you, and I still wanted to marry you even before this happened, before I was scared. I’m not trying to tie you down so you can’t leave, I’m trying to love you forever. It’s love, honey, I love you.”

“I love you too,” You wail, unperturbed by your messy, tear-stained, snot-streaked faces as Bradley lifts his head out of your shoulder to kiss you. It’s desperate, sloppy, and uncoordinated, but it’s the first real kiss you’ve shared in a long time, and you wouldn’t change a thing about it if you could. It’s all desperate, grabby hands and quivering breaths as you familiarize yourselves with each other again, remember what it’s like to be honestly, truly in love with each other. You’ve thrown the lies away like a hardened cast, and the bones beneath it have mended, still tender but whole again. You can’t get enough of him, you can’t take your hands out of his hair and you can’t press your chest up against his enough. He feels the same, he can’t possibly tug your hips further against his own, and he can’t dig his nose any further into your cheek or he might poke a hole there. But he wants to, so he tries.

You’re ravenous, not with desire but with love, the purest and sweetest form of it. You’re so glad to have him back, to really have him back, that you can’t care about your leg falling asleep where it’s bent awkwardly against his lap, or the stickiness of his tears on your cheeks. All you care about is Bradley, all you know is Bradley, all you ever want to know is Bradley.

He reaches for your hand while still engaged in the kiss, and you swear you feel your heart crack when you pull yourself away to stop him in his tracks.

“Wait,” You pant, wondering why he’s doing the same when he’d practically stolen the air from your lungs, “You’re absolutely sure you want to marry me? Even though-”

“Jesus,” Bradley huffs, keeping the ring in one hand and reaching for your face in the other. He squishes your cheeks together, until your lips are puckered and he can brace his forehead against your own, eyes wide and grin exasperated, “Yes! Yes, I really want to marry you, even though you left, even though you lied. I lied, too, honey. You left because you were scared, and that’s why I lied. I get it, okay? I’m not gonna turn on you, I love you. I want to marry you.”

“But- but we should work through this,” You propose, pointedly not swatting him away when he poises the ring over your marriage finger.

“Okay. We can work through it in marriage counseling,” He promises with a breathless smile, the expression wholly genuine because for the first time in three weeks, he’s confident you’ll say yes, “Because I want to marry you. Do you want to marry me?”

You’re not fucking this up a third time.

“Yes!” You gush, and you squeal when he jams the ring onto your finger, moving in for a kiss far more eagerly than you’re prepared for. It’s like being greeted by an overexcited puppy, one that’s a bit too big to be ramming into you, but that you can’t tell no. He kisses you voraciously, joining your hands together so that the metal band on your ring finger rubs against his own skin.

“I love you,” You pant, in a rare moment of being able to drag oxygen into your lungs, “And- I’m sorry. I love you so much.”

“I love you, too.” Bradley swears, kissing you again before you can murmur any more apologies, “It’s okay. We’ll be okay, baby. We’ll work through it. You were scared, so I’ll help you however I can so that you’re not so scared. And I was scared, so I’ll probably be a bit of a clinger for a while. That’s it, baby, we don’t have to break up.” He promises, “That’s all it is, honey. We can work through it. We love each other, we can do this.”

“We do love each other,” Saying it feels like a blessing you’re casting over yourselves, an affirmation that you want to say in the mirror ten times before starting your day, “I love you, Bradley.”

“I love you too, Y/N,” He hums, dissuaded very little when you turn your head to look for your phone. He presses the same frequency of kisses to your cheek as he had your lips, and you let him smooch away at your face while you hunt for the device.

“Here!” You find it tangled in the bedsheets, “Brad, let’s tell everyone.”

“Hm?” He glances sideways at your phone, “Oh. Yeah, my parents are probably worried.”

“My dad, too.” You hum, “I told him at the store earlier.”

“I told my parents then, too.” He confesses, “But- but they’re not mad at you, or anything honey, they understand.”

You marvel at the revelation, that that's the reason Carole had been so confident bidding you goodbye.

“I.. told your mom already,” You realize you still haven’t put all of his puzzle pieces together for him, “Uh, she knew before you woke up, actually. She was the one to suggest that I pretend nothing happened. She didn’t want you to be too stressed in the hospital.”

His brow furrows where he’s in the middle of kissing your jaw, and he pulls back to evaluate the new information. But he’s not angry, more exhausted. He chuckles weakly, “I told her today, she pretended she had no idea. Damn, that woman is a good actor.”

“Very good,” You agree, snatching Bradley’s hand out of his lap to curl your own over the back of it. Your hands are stacked palm-to-back, with Bradley’s resting on the blanket and yours overtop. Your ring glistens in the afternoon sunlight and snapping a picture of it is one of the most gratifying things in the world, second only to the feeling of it laying permanently on your finger. You’ll have to put this one in the photo album, the beginning of a new chapter.

Bradley doesn’t let go of your hand after you snap the picture, only flips his own beneath it so that he can hold it more securely. He puts his chin over your shoulder to kiss your cheek as you use your only free hand to type out a group text message to your family members. Bradley’s squadron will be next on the list, but for now, your family receives the shot of your hands intertwined, a ring glistening on yours.

I said yes this time.💗

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

1K notes · View notes

mxtantrights · 3 months

Note

this has been in my mind for DAYS

dick grayson falling head over heels for a detective that HATES him as dick but likes him as nightwing

and idk maybe the reveal would be funny asf that theyre the same guy 😭😭😭

a/n: this is a bit bigger than a blurb and honestly this could be like a whole thing but I've had fun with blurbs to this point so let's keep it going. if you want a second part / resolution defo come into my inbox and I'll bang one out because this was really fun thank you so much anon!! <333 (hope your pillow is cold on both sides for this<333)

Dick Grayson thinks certain things in life are just coincidental. His lucky number happened to be part of the winning lotto numbers last night. The older woman he let cut in front of him on the expressway ended up giving up her parking to him at the grocery store. And the love of his life hates him.

Yup.

You started working at the precinct six months ago? Yeah, six months ago. Dick was a normal guy working at his job six months ago. Then you walked in and suddenly he's falling head over heels for you and everything has meaning.

Six months ago he started acting like an idiot.

He knows you hate him. You avoid him when you don't have to see him. You don't even politely wave or smile at him anymore. You used to, in the beginning. But something changed, he doesn't know what.

At first he thought someone said something to you about him. Tried to put you off him. But he asked around and no one admitted to doing anything like that. They even admitted that they don't talk to you about him. Which hurt, ow.

So it's strikes him as odd when he sees you while in costume, and you actually smile at him. He's just finished up taking down a robbery gang targeting small business. And you're there, with you're badge and your smile. A smile!

He doesn't have time to talk. Or- he realizes he shouldn't talk because his voice would sound the familiar to you. Maybe. Maybe if you even remember what his voice sounds like.

He doesn't have time to talk because you start talking. Gushing, raving actually. About him. Well not him, per say, about nightwing. Which is him, but you don't know that. You can never know that.

You tell him how you happy you are to have someone like him protecting Bludhaven. About how people here aren't always looking out for the interests of others. And how he's been doing such a good job recently.

And then you're off. You wave to him goodbye, like actually wave to him with you hand. Something you've never done to him, him being Dick, and you wish him a goodnight.

He obviously goes home from patrol that night and tries to compute what just happened.

It's about week seventeen. Dick is standing with you on a rooftop. He has only talked to you five times. Bruce gave him a voice modulator but he still didn't want you to find out who he really was.

He should. His heart is telling him to tell you. You like this version of him. And maybe if you know the nightwing and Dick are the same person then you won't hate Dick as much.

But his brain is telling him he's an idiot. And that you'd probably hate him even more for keeping a secret like this, and letting you gush about him knowing full well that in 'real life' you don't like Dick.

You're ranting about something that happened today. A perp or something that got away from you. He can't really focus when his heart is telling him to end this facade tonight.

So he takes off his domino mask. And as you pace back and forth you don't notice. You don't notice as you keep talking, and talking. And then you turn to get his input, and find him maskless.

"What the fuck." you say.

"You totally hate me don't you?" he asks.

"Dick?" you ask

"Yeah, it's me." he answers you.

But you don't answer him, he realizes. Yeah you probably hate him more than you did before. Bad idea. Great thinking Grayson. He beats himself up internally.

"That's not-It can't be you! You're a detective!" you almost shout.

"This is my night hobby." he jokes a bit.

"Not the time for jokes, Detective Grayson." you answer him.

He sighs, "Do we really have to go back to the way we are at work?"

Your head tilts to the side a bit, "What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about you hating me. I mean, we don't talk. You try not to get partnered with me. You barely say hello." he explains.

Your eyes go wide.

"You noticed that?" you ask.

"Yes! How could I not notice that the love of my-" he cuts himself off.

You walk over to him slowly, crossing your arms over your chest. Your eyes squint as you get in his face. Seeing you like this, he can see why you were a bit menacing to the perps. They didn't play around with you.

"Did you just accidentally confess your love for me?" you ask, in a judgmental tone.

"I'm stressed out!" he answers back with his hands in the air.

You take a step back and place your hands in your back pockets, "You don't have to be. I don't hate you."

"You don't?" Dick asks.

"No. I don't. You just, pester me."

"So you think of me as a gnat? Or a fly to swat?" Dick questions you.

His hands falls to his sides.

"You're better at your job than you let yourself believe. I've seen your desk and the pile of cold cases you keep on top of it. Why do you do that?" you speak.

Dick looks taken back by that. He crosses his arms over his chest. He sees your eyes dart to his arms and then back up to his face. Struggle. You're struggling to not see Dick as nightwing. Maybe he did make the right decision...

"I don't get lost in the wins. It's easy to do that and get lax. The people of this city deserve someone who's gonna fight for them." Dick confesses to you.

You nod your head.

"What do you say we do the friend thing?" Dick asks.

He holds out his hand for you. You look down at it and then back at him. He smiles. And he swears he can feel the static in the air grow. He survived being 'hated' by you, he could survive being your friend.

You take his hand into yours. It feels warm, and like a shared understanding. Even though you never really explained why you hated him (he doesn't need to know what it really was, not yet) and he never explained why that bothered him so much (he'll tell you the first chance you ask about it)

"Consider the friend thing started." You say.

#dc x reader #dc imagine #dc blurbs #Dick Grayson x reader #Dick Grayson imagine #Dick Grayson blurbs

199 notes · View notes

heavenlyvision · 10 months

Note

ahh yay !! okay sooo… vamp!Tomas x fem!reader where tomas and the reader both like each other but never really said anything because they are both shyyy but after tomas gets turned by nitara tomas becomes a lot more cockier and confident causing him to cockily confess his feelings !! (smut? 🤍)

ty lovely and ofc have a good day/night <3

I love this request! I have written far more for it than I initially thought I was going to, I got carried away and couldn’t stop writing. I hope you like it anon! Thank you for gracing my inbox <333 sorry it took me so long to fulfil this request. I wish you a lovely day/night and I hope this lives up to your expectations :)

Dearest

Wc: 6k

Pairing: Vamp!Tomas x F!Reader

Warnings: 18+ only, smut, angsty for like a minute, thigh grinding, cunnilingus (over the panties 🤭), p in v sex, creampie, spanking (1), I think that is all :)

Harbouring an unrequited crush for a man that you would describe as one of your closest friends is one of the most difficult things you’ve had to do in your adult life, and you have not had an easy life. So, it feels a little bit ridiculous how trying this has been for you.

Tomas is someone you hold in high regard, his skills, his generosity, his kindness in spite of his losses, you could ramble on about him and all the reasons you like him forever. Unlucky for his brother Kuai Liang, that means you torture him with your seemingly endless growing affections.

“He brought me back my favourite–”

“–Yes, I know, I was there with him.” Kuai Liang sighs, this is the third time you’ve brought up Tomas in the last ten minutes.

Tomas had brought you back your favourite baked goods on his last trip into town, it made your chest feel full with how kind the action was. He remembered your favourite treat, and he went out of his way to get it. He thinks about you, even when you aren’t with him.

“I’m sorry Kuai, I’m just really happy.” You feel embarrassed about how much you’re gushing, but you can’t help it. There is no one else you can talk to about this, and you need to talk about it with someone.

“It’s fine, I didn’t mean to make you feel bad,” he smiles apologetically at you, “but you know, you should just tell him how much you like him.”

“I can’t do that! What if he doesn’t like me back? And then I’ve ruined our friendship over my silly feelings.” There’s too much for you to lose if you confess to him.

Kuai Liang refrains from a deep eye roll, he’s about to say something but Tomas walks up to you both.

“Hey guys, what’s going on?” He’s just finished some training with Hanzo, he looks tired.

Kuai sits and says nothing, waiting for you to answer him, “We’re just hanging out, drinking tea.” You motion the teacup up at him to see.

He nods his head, smiling at you, “Got enough for me?”

Kuai pours him a cup before getting up, “I’ve got to go meet with Harumi, thanks for the tea.” He nods his head down at you and pats Tomas on the shoulder as he walks away.

“Thank you,” you tell him in reference to the gift he brought back.

He moves to sit down next to you on the bench, “No thanks necessary, I knew it was your favourite, and I was in the area.”

He lied just now, Kuai had told you that they would’ve been home an hour earlier, but he went out of his way to find your favourite bakery.

You take a sip of your tea, smiling into the cup and humming your reply to him.

You ask, “How did training go?”

“Well, Hanzo is improving fast, I am sure it won’t take him long to beat me in a fight,” he chuckles, his pride in Hanzo displayed in it.

“I am sure he could, though I am sure I could beat you in a fight too.” You’re teasing, you are capable but not on par with Tomas.

He smiles at you, “You probably would win but I think that’s because you would play dirty.”

“Absolutely,” he knows you too well, any way to win.

You both sit and drink tea while talking, until you run out of tea, and then you’re both just talking. It gets late quickly but you both never seem to run out of things to say, and even when you do, you’ll say anything just to be able to talk to him for a little bit longer.

“I should probably head to bed now, it’s getting late,” you tell Tomas, hours have passed since he sat down.

He looks into your eyes, like he has something pressing to tell you but eventually settles on saying, “Okay, thank you for tea.”

“Thank you for my treats,” you lean into his side, and he holds you there. Both engaged in a side hug.

“You are most welcome, dearest.”

The way he calls you dearest makes your heart rate spike; he makes you feel like you are genuinely dear to him, and it makes you giddy.

You move past it, “I will see you tomorrow?” you ask him, mouth muffled in his shirt.

He replies, “Yes but it might be late, Kuai and I both have to help Lui Kang with something.”

So vague with his missions, trying to shield you from the truth you suppose. You always end up asking Kuai about them anyways, and he tells you, so there isn’t really any point in keeping it from you. It’s sweet that he cares to try though.

“Be safe.” You tell him.

“Always.”

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

That was the last time you saw Tomas, he left for his mission and Kuai came back alone. It’s something that haunts you, you remember how distraught you were. You were told he was turned by Nitara, which means he’s out there somewhere, you just don’t know where. Don’t know what he’s doing. But your home feels empty and lifeless these days.

All you do is spend the days waiting for the next, an endless, mind-numbing cycle. Kuai and Harumi visit you often, checking in on you, making tea. They’re worried about you, you know that. But you’re worried about Tomas.

Lui Kang and Kuai Liang have been putting a copious amount of effort into finding Tomas, wanting to help him, but Tomas doesn’t want to be found. And he’s making it abundantly clear. Leaving a trail of half dead people, that have messages from him, telling them to stop looking.

This isn’t something you learnt from Kuai; you’ve heard the whispers in the village about it though. Kuai has now picked up Tomas’ old habit of not telling you the extent of things, but you can read between the lines. Tomas is moving closer to the Shirai Ryu’s village, for what reason you don’t know but you feel conflicted about it. You want to see him, but he is not Tomas anymore, not really. Not the man you…

…The bond between yourself and Tomas had always been unbreakable, at least you thought it had been. With the way things are now, you don’t know who will be standing in front of you, if you ever see him again.

Due to Tomas’ movements getting closer to the village people have been assigned to keep tabs on you. Kuai hasn’t said anything, but people roam outside your house now, frequently. All hours, they will stroll by, you think they aren’t meant to be noticed but when you live with ninja’s long enough, you start to notice them. You appreciate the consideration, but it’s not needed, even if he does show, you’ll handle it yourself.

There’s a knock on your door, three polite raps against the solid wood. Right on time, 3pm in the afternoon. Every day, you get visited by Kuai, sometimes with Harumi, sometimes with Hanzo, but more often than not, alone.

Sighing you move from your couch to the door and pull it open, “Afternoon, Kuai.”

You pull it open the whole way, allowing his large frame to move past you. He walks into the kitchen and starts boiling some water.

“Good afternoon,” he replies.

The afternoon with him carries out the same way it has for the past couple months, he talks to you, trying to get you to open up. You turn it on him and try to get him to talk, about how he’s feeling, about Tomas’ last sighting, his plans for if they find him. But just like yourself, he doesn’t disclose anything. So, you both end up drinking tea in silence, mention the weather and then part ways.

Some days he is more stubborn than others, he stays longer, pushing you harder, he’s feeling that way this afternoon.

“I know you must be upset and missing him; you can talk to me about him, it might help.” He presses you; he’d love to hear you talk about Tomas the way you used to.

It makes you sad to talk about him though, “I don’t have anything to say Kuai, you know that.”

“That is a little hard to believe,” there is humour in his voice, it pulls a small smile from you.

It is rather ironic, going from never being able to shut up about him, to never talking about him.

“I appreciate the concern, but I am fine,” you lie.

He knows and he looks at you, eyebrow raised, “You are not.”

“No… I’m not but neither are you.”

“I suppose not.” He sighs and takes a sip of his tea.

You think now is your time to mention, “Could you stop sending people to watch my house, it’s annoying and unnecessary.”

“I think it necessary,” he shoots back, but he caves a little, “I will send less and less frequently, but they will still watch out for you.”

You go to argue further, “I really don’t think it’s–”

“–I am not willing to compromise further on this matter.” He cuts you off.

“Fine.” You concede, too tired to argue with him. Always too tired.

He seems pleased with the progress he’s made with you though, finally getting you to budge the slightest bit. Admitting that you are not fine is enough for him today. He leaves with no argument, and you sit back on your couch, enjoying your solidarity.

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

You’re in the shower when you hear someone rummaging around your living room, annoying, you think to yourself. It’s probably someone checking on you, though it’s odd they’re inside your house.

Wrapping yourself in a towel, you move through the ensuite and into your bedroom. Locating the sword you keep hung on the wall, if it’s not someone checking up on you, you may need protection. You pull it down, keeping it sheathed. Slowly you move towards the living area where the noise is coming from.

You sneak through the house as quietly as possible and come up behind the intruder, hands on the sword, ready to unsheathe it and strike if necessary. But then you realise the silhouette of the intruder is very familiar.

He turns around and faces you, a faux shocked look on his face, pretending to be frightened by you holding a sword.

Your voice comes out far more timid than you would’ve liked, “Tomas?”

“Ah, you caught me.” He holds his arms up in surrender, sly grin plastered on his face.

“What are you doing here?”

“Well, I came to visit you, dearest.” He says it like it’s the most obvious thing, as if he’s questioning you questioning his presence.

Your eyes squint at him, “Don’t call me that.”

“You never use to mind it,” his face twists into a fake sad expression.

You’re still in an attack stance, “That was then, I don’t know who you are now.”

“Please put the sword down, it really isn’t frightening, especially since you’re in nothing but a towel.” His eyes look you up and down, appreciating your scantily clad body in a fluffy towel.

Your lip pulls up into a grimace, “Don’t look at me, turn around.”

He waves a hand at you dismissively, “Chill out, I’m not here to hurt you.”

“Why are you here?” You’re quick to reply.

His presence is genuinely confusing, he didn’t want to be found by his own brother, but he came back here to break into your house and look at your living room furnishings?

“Like I said, I’m here to see you, I’ve missed you dearly… dearest.” He flashes you a cheeky smile.

He’s different, not right, not… himself. It’s uncanny and off putting to you. He is not the same kind man you called your best friend.

“I don’t believe you.”

His smile drops, “I know, but I’m not lying.”

He moves towards you, but you take a step back, hand pulling on the handle of the sword, ready to unsheathe it. He stops at your reaction; and rolls his eyes dramatically.

“I really am not going to hurt you, I wanted to give you that,” his head motions towards your side table, your favourite baked goods sitting atop it.

Your eyes round in shock, why would he go to the effort? You stop your thoughts before they get too hopeful, he could be trying to lure you into a false sense of security, and it might work. He looks mostly the same, not quite right but his likeness is there. He’s pale, bloody, an odd marking on his forehead, and fangs you can spot when he speaks, but the same.

It’s confusing you; you want to be happy to see him, but you don’t want to let yourself feel it if he isn’t quite right. If he’s going to hurt you or worse. You are happy he’s alive though, there might be a way to help him.

“Why did you bring me that?” You ask, also motioning towards the treats on the table.

“Because they’re you’re favourite,” he shrugs, “can you please put the sword down, this is getting a bit ridiculous.”

You have a baffled look on you face, “You’re the one breaking and entering??”

“Hey! I didn’t break anything.” He looks offended, hand on his chest. He sighs and rolls his eyes again, “I don’t know what to offer you here to make you feel better, dear.”

“I don’t really know either.” You consider what would make you feel better about him, other than him leaving. “Getting dressed… would make me feel better.”

“I don’t mind if you don’t.” He’s flirting with you, brazenly.

“Stay here… or leave… but don’t follow me.”

He has a bored look on his face, but he shrugs in agreeance.

At his reaction you begin backing away slowly, watching him as you leave the room. He tilts his head curiously at you as you do. When you can no longer see him, you shuffle quickly to your room.

You rustle through drawers to find clothes, settling on pants and a t-shirt. Something you can move around in if you end up having to defend yourself. You pick up your sword and exit your bedroom.

As you come back into the living area you see him sitting on an armchair in the corner, the one facing your larger couch. You move around the furniture to sit on said couch facing him. Your posture a stark contrast to his, you’re sitting up straight and alert. While he is lounging, legs spread wide, spine reclined against the back of the armchair. He’s fully relaxed and you’re… not.

“Still have the sword I see,” he notes.

Your grip tightens on the hilt, “I am not ready to trust you.”

“No, I wouldn’t think you would be.” His head rolls to the side quickly, listening, “are you expecting guests?”

You know what he’s hearing, your friendly watchers must be coming by to check on you.

“Kuai Liang started assigning people to come by my house, I didn’t understand why previously, I do now.” You reply casually with a wave of your hand.

“Mmm, he is taking care of you?” His question seems loaded, like he might be simultaneously pleased and displeased at the same time, no matter your response.

“Yes, he comes by regularly to check on me, he is worried.” You answer honestly, based on his hearing he’d probably be able to tell if you lied to him.

His eyes squint slightly, his reaction telling you nothing about his thoughts or feelings, “You going to alert them of my presence?”

“I wasn’t planning to.”

He seems a little confused, “Why not?”

“I’m not getting any information from Kuai anymore, he tells me nothing. If I let them take you, I doubt I’ll be updated of anything.”

“Very serious like this, you used to be much kinder to me.”

Your eyebrows raise at him, “I could say the same to you.”

“Fair enough,” he smiles at you, still eyeing you even though you are nowhere near as undressed as earlier.

“Stop it,” you tell him.

His gaze climbs up your body and then back onto your eyes, “Stop what?”

“Stop that,” your hand waves in circles around his face, referencing the way he’s been looking at you.

His head leans to the side, “Why?”

Your eyebrows pinch together, “Because I don’t know what it means.”

“I like you, is what it means.” His smile is as sweet as he can muster, it’d be sweeter if he didn’t have fangs.

Huh? Huh? What the hell? He likes you, is that possible? You must have the most bewildered expression on your face because he begins chuckling at you.

“Don’t laugh!” You’re frowning at him now.

“Sorry, sorry…” He waves his hand at you, “I didn’t think you’d look so confused, you’ve just made a very cute face.”

You sigh deeply, he’s making your heart rate pick up, you need to control it, “I don’t believe you.” You say in reference to his declaration.

“Yeah, you keep saying that, but it’s the truth. I came back to see you because I miss you and I miss you because I like you. I always have.” His confession is making you feel flushed. He’s saying things you would’ve liked to have heard ages ago.

“Why? Why tell me this now?”

“Was too scared to tell you before, now it doesn’t matter as much, our friendship isn’t exactly in a great place, no?” He gestures to his whole being with his hands, as if to demonstrate the reason for that.

“I don’t see myself trusting you, I hope you know that.” Honestly, mutual trust isn’t something you can foresee in both your futures.

But that’s obviously the opposite for Tomas, “I am pretty confident that I can change your mind, I got your heart rate to rise earlier. My confession bring up some hidden feelings?”

You’re interested, “How do you plan on changing my mind?” You ignore the second part of his sentence.

“I will come by as often as I have to, for as long as I have to, until you trust me again.” He seems earnest at least, but you don’t know if you have rose tinted glasses on when it comes to him.

“Do as you please, I have a feeling you’re going to anyways.” You huff at him, spine becoming less rigid.

He smiles at you, eyes bright, “I appreciate the permission, anyhow.”

His visit ends quickly after that last conversation, having made headway with you made him pleased enough to leave. He did promise he would be back the next night, and the night after that, and so on, and so forth. The promise thrills you, much to your contention.

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

Tomas stayed true to his promise, he comes by, every night without fail and has been doing so for the last few months. He never stopped flirting with you the whole time, making his affection for you perfectly clear. There are only so many ways you can brush him off and change topics though.

He sniffs the air, “I hate how much Kuai comes around, always smells like him in here, ruins your scent.”

Your eyes roll at him, “Well, he’s about as stubborn as you are about visiting. Must run in the family.”

You stopped holding your sword every time he came round about a month into his visits, believing he probably wasn’t going to bodily harm you. It was never far from you though, now it stays in the lounge, not close but not far. He has succeeded in slowly building some trust between the two of you.

In the kitchen you’re waiting for the kettle to boil, Tomas comes up behind you. Leaning down he inhales your scent, not so close to touch but close enough to have your heart pounding in your chest.

“What are you doing?” You ask.

“Smelling you.”

“Yeah, I can see that, why are you sniffing me?”

“You smell nice,” he’s still standing close to you, chest brushing your back.

You turn around and place a palm on his chest, aiming to push him back but he doesn’t budge. His hand comes up and he places it over top of your own. His eyes looking intently into yours, as you’re looking up at him, you’re struck with the realisation that your feelings for him haven’t left you. He’s changed and so have your feelings, but you still like him.

His eyes flit down to your lips, he begins moving in closer to you. Giving you ample time to pull away if you don’t want him to kiss you. You don’t know if kissing him is a good idea, but it doesn’t matter anyways, the kettle starts squealing, alerting you of its boiled status.

His hand lets go of yours, the moment ruined. You turn quickly, feeling like your face is on fire. Happy to be able to hide your face from him, though you know he can definitely hear your beating heart working overtime.

You take the kettle off the stove and make a cup of tea for both you and Tomas, he never drinks it, but he asks for it every time and holds it for the entirety of his visit.

Later, after tea, as you’re washing up Tomas stands beside you. Ever since your guard dropped enough to let him get this close to you, he stays as close as you’ll allow. Always right by you, flirting, joking, watching.

“Do you want me to wash up?” He offers.

“No, thank you.” You continue, scrubbing at your dishware.

When you’re done you go to wipe your hands off, drying them. Tomas grabs you and spins you abruptly, a shocked gasp pulling from you at his speed and strength.

“I like you.” Is all he says.

Your eyes are wide with shock, “You’ve already said so.”

“I just had to tell you again, so you know.”

“You tell me every day, and you relentlessly flirt with me,” you remind him.

“Just checking you haven’t forgotten.”

“You don’t make that possible,” you raise a brow at him.

“That’s the idea,” he smiles cheekily at you.

His eyes dip to your lips again, the moment from earlier being recreated. You turn your head to the side, feeling shy under his watchful gaze.

“Your heart is racing,” he comments, moving his hand to tuck a stray hair behind your ear.

“I know, it is my heart.” You feel flush in the face.

He leans a bit closer, “And how does your heart feel about me?”

Ah, he’s fishing today. He has been very patient, not asking you your feelings towards him but he is curious. Especially since he can tell you enjoy his advances, or at least react to them viscerally.

“I reserve the right to not answer that.” You feel as though you’re being interrogated.

He finds your answer entertaining, “I think… you like me too, but you’re still not convinced you can trust me.”

Yep, he’s pretty much hit the nail on the head, and he knows it. You go to answer him, try to cover for yourself but he’s quicker with his words.

Tone growing glib, he taunts, “Mmm, yeah, that was dead on, huh?”

His large hand come up and pulls your face back to his, holding you by your chin, between his thumb and forefinger. He tilts your face up, looking you directly in the eyes.

“Look at me and tell me, that you don’t like me.”

“I don’t like you,” you reply simply.

He scoffs, “Liar, I’ve grown on you.”

“Like a tumour, maybe,” you retort back.

He has a small smile on his face, “Now who is being stubborn?”

“Somehow, still you.” Your expression is one of defiance.

He rolls his eyes at you and groans, before grabbing your head on either side and pulling you into a kiss. It’s full and profound, and as he moves his head to the side, he licks into your mouth, deepening the kiss. A shocked mewl coming from you, one that he swallows down greedily.

Your heart feels like it might explode in your chest, and as he pulls away, he makes a note of it.

His forehead rests against yours, smiling cockily he asks, “Still don’t like me?”

“No,” you shake your head against him.

He captures your lips in another lustful kiss, devouring you whole, consuming the noises that escape you. Common sense eludes you, his kisses making you dizzy and unable to think properly. He walks you back into the corner of the kitchen bench, still cradling your face. Your hands coming up behind you, resting on the bench top. As a result, your chest presses further into him.

One of his knees slots between your legs, pinning you to the spot. His kisses take your breath away and you have to pull back to breathe. Huffing slightly at his insistent manner of kissing.

“Seems to me, that you like me.” He states.

“You’re mistaken.” You retort.

His head moves to your neck, inhaling the length of it, “it smells like you like me.”

Low blow on his behalf, his observation of your growing arousal for him makes your skin set alight. An embarrassing observation for him to make and he knows it. His thigh slots higher, resting up against your cunt. The contact makes you jump lightly, your teeth biting your lip to stifle your audible reaction.

His hands move to your hips as he leans down and kisses you again. His lips serving as a distraction so he can use the grip he has on your hips to encourage you to grind down on his thigh. You get lost in the feeling, the stimulation sending jolts of pleasure up your spine, the sounds you make spilling from you freely.

He rips his mouth away from you suddenly, before you can complain he pulls your pants down, you step out of them. Standing in front of him in nothing but your shirt and panties. He drops to his knees in front of you, pulling your thighs apart, just enough so his face can fit between your legs. His nose resting up against your pussy over your panties, he inhales deeply.

You gasp out at him, “Tomas!”

“Mmmsorry, you smell so fucken good.” He speaks against your cunt, muffling his words.

This display is mortifying to you and also serving to fuel your arousal. He hums pleasantly at your reaction. His mouth opens, sucking over your underwear, wetting them further. His thumbs pull your pussy lips apart, giving himself more access to your arousal. He’s lapping at your hole over your underwear, nose rubbing up against your clit as he licks at you.

You’re squirming above him, gasping for air at the pleasure he’s giving you. He grows more fervent against you, your cunt leaking from the pleasure. The smell and taste of you sending him into a frenzy. He doesn’t stop making out with your cunt over your underwear. Your legs are borderline shaking with your building orgasm.

“Tomas – ngh,” you’re trying to warn him of your impending orgasm.

One of your hands reaches for his hair, grabbing on, your hips beginning to faintly grind against his face. He doesn’t pull away to acknowledge your words, just continues slurping at your cunt, humming at you in confirmation.

The noises spilling from you reach a higher pitch, coming closer together. Your eyes are wet as they close tight against the intensity of your orgasm. When you cum it’s with a bite of his name followed by a large inhale of breath. Legs shaking, if he had not been gripping your thighs, you would’ve fallen to the floor in front of him.

He doesn’t stop as you cum, or even after, continuing to lick at you enthusiastically, aftershocks running through your veins. You twitch at the continued stimulation he provides. He growls against you, an inhuman sound that spikes your heart rate, and your excitement.

The sight of him between your legs, gripping your thighs open and feasting on your wet cunt could have you passing out. He huffs frustrated against you, and he rips your underwear off, actually tearing them off your body. You can’t even complain because he’s put his mouth back on your bare cunt. Drinking up all of the slick and cum from your cunt, he’s licking you clean, you might actually faint.

Tugging at his hair harsher, you push him back, “mm sensitive, stop.” You gasp out at him, words slurred together slightly.

Thankfully, he pulls away but stays on his knees, watching you quiver in front of him. His mouth finished eating you, but his eyes haven’t. He inhales one last time before standing up in front of you.

Cocky smile plastered on his face, “Divine, let me continue?”

You shake your head at him, “No, I will actually faint.”

He preens at that, delighted by your answer, “Are you ready to admit you like me?”

“No,” stubborn for no reason at this point. It’s clear to the both of you, you definitely like him.

He chuckles dryly at you, and then he’s spinning you around and pushing your upper half against the bench top. His hands run over your body, down your back and over your ass cheeks, he pulls them back to stare at your cunt, he whistles at the sight of it. And you struggle against him, humiliated by his actions.

“Will you let me fuck your tight pussy?”

You feel red and raw, his direct question mortifying you, mortifying you because, “yes.” You will let him.

He lets out an amused sound that turns into a growl at the sight of you bent over and waiting for him. Rustling can be heard from behind you as he pulls out his cock. He runs it through your folds, using your cunts prior orgasm to lube it. You rock back against him, rutting down on his dick. It sends shudders down your spine, the pleasure already plenty and he’s not inside you.

“Hold still,” he holds his hand on your back firmly, keeping you in place.

His other hand on his cock, running his tip through your folds before notching it at your hole. Slowly splitting you in two.

All he lets out is, “fffff–”

You clench at the stretch, clamping down on his cock.

“–UCK!” He lets out at your tightening pussy, “gotta relax, or I’ll never – nghf – make it inside.”

You’re mewling and barely the tip is inside you, his hand reaches down and around to rub at your clit, trying to get you to relax.

“Thasss it, dear, fucken perfect… jus. like. that,” he sighs as you relax a bit.

He’s able to have his whole tip enter you, and then he starts rocking back and forth slowly, trying to fuck you open on the tip of his dick. Your legs already shaking and he’s not even close to halfway inside you.

He begins fucking his cock into you more, incrementally, it has pleasure wracking your body. Taking his time, rocking in and then out, slightly more in and then out, rinse and repeat. Until he’s finally fully seated inside you. The full feeling overwhelming you, you grind back against him, wanting more of the feeling.

“Tomas–”

“Hold still, and if it’s – hah – too much, tap me, okay?” He asks.

You nod your head at him, but he slaps your ass and says, “Words, dearest.”

“I will tap you if it’s too much – jus please – mmmmove.” You’re wiggling back against him, trying to gain some friction.

Both his hands pull your ass cheeks apart again, gazing down at the way you’re wrapped around him. A deep growl coming from inside his chest at the sight. Pulling back almost all the way out, he slams back into you, jolting your body forward against the counter. You have a feeling you’re going to have all kinds of bruises tomorrow morning.

He’s fucking you in earnest, roughly, inhuman and pleased noises coming from him. A wet slapping filling your kitchen along with your mewls and whines. You brace yourself on the counter and begin fucking yourself back on his cock.

His hand moves up your body and grabs at the back of your neck, he pulls you up, holding you flush against his chest. Your head resting back against his shoulder. He’s fucking up into you, the change in position sliding you further down his dick.

The hand that pulled you up goes to the front of your neck, applying no pressure but holding you steady. His free arm moves from your hip to the front of your body, holding you against him, hand groping at your tit. His fingers pinch and play with your nipple, your cunt squeezing down on him at the sensation.

“Tell me, do you like mmme – ngh – now?” He whispers it against your ear, lips brushing the shell of it. It sends a shiver down your spine, goosebumps breaking out across your skin.

“Mmmmaybe – mmph – a little…” You confess.

He laughs and licks your ear, his thrusts never stopping or slowing. Your cunt starts to rhythmically pulse around his cock, you’re so close to cumming on just his cock, a sensation you’ve not felt before. Previously always cumming with the help of stimulation on your clit.

He taunts you, “Go on, cream all over – mmph – me, can feel you squeezing mmme.”

“Hah – Mm gonna–” You’re cumming, hard, on his dick. Your release creating a white ring around the base of his cock.

His hands move to push you back against the bench top again, he needs to see the way you came all over him. He spreads your cheeks again to watch himself fuck you, to see the way you creamed all over him. Mesmerised by your cunt and the way it takes him; he’s chasing his own high now.

He’s fucking you harshly, aiming to topple headfirst into his own pleasure. You clamp down on him, pulling his own orgasm from him suddenly. He cums with a shout of your name and a string of profanities. Filling your cunt to the brim with his release, he continues thrusting, stuffing all his cum back into your pussy. He groans at the sight, dick twitching inside you.

He pulls out of you slowly; he tugs his pants back on before spinning you around and placing you up on the bench. He wets some napkins from your kitchen with warm water and gently wipes your thighs clean.

His fingers push some of the cum leaking out of your cunt back inside, “Keep that there.” He tells you.

You hold your hand over your pussy, as he runs down the hall and comes back with a fresh pair of underwear. He slides them up your legs and uses them to help keep his cum inside you. Your legs are shaking from the come down, eyes wet and dazed. You’d let him do almost anything to you right now, with the way he’s given you the two best orgasms of your life, you think he might’ve earned it.

You watch him move around your kitchen, he finds your previous pair of underwear and stuffs them inside his pocket. He looks back at you and smiles deviously. Then he moves to get you a glass of water.

He presents it to you, “Drink.”

You accept it gratefully, feeling parched, you drink it all. It dribbles down your chin with how you gulp it down. He smiles at you and wipes your chin clean.

“I don’t think I can walk,” you tell him.

He’s smug, “Need me to carry you to bed, dearest?”

“If you’d be so kind.”

He obliges and carries you to bed, tucking you in. He won’t stay and he shouldn’t stay, though you find yourself hoping he would.

“I’ll stay until you fall asleep,” he says, practically reading your mind. He crawls into bed beside you, on top of the covers.

“Thank you, Tomas.”

He smiles kindly at you, “No thanks necessary.”

You fall asleep quickly that night. Fully trusting him and even feeling safe with him beside you. When you wake the next morning, he is gone but he’s left a note.

It reads, “I’ll be back tonight, dearest.”

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

A/N: This is not my best writing, but I find myself a bit fond of it, maybe because it’s a different character, a bit of a change up is nice. I did write almost an extra 3k than what I initially planned lmao. I find the need to add more plot in my stories. Anyways, thank you for reading! I hope you all enjoyed, my requests are open if you want a story like this one or if you want to share any thoughts, feelings, anything really, I am open for asks!! <333

#ask vision #tomas x reader #tomas vrbada #tomas x reader smut #tomas vrbada x reader smut #smoke x reader #smoke x reader smut #fanfic #tomas x you #mk1 smut #smut #mk1 2023

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pinknightsinmymind · 1 year

Text

【 found family hc's 】

abby anderson x fem!reader & ellie williams x fem!reader

wc: 4.4k

song rec: house song by searows. i listened to this on loop the entire time i was writing.

content: established relationship, modern!au, fluff galore, hc's for both abs and els, christmas with abs!!!!, bbq with ellie and family, minor angst, but this is all fluff so sweet it rots your teeth, hc's AND long blurbs for abby and ellie, mentions of parent loss(in this modern!au abby's mother passed away), mentions of adoption(for ellie's hc's), and sarah is here!! she is ellie's older sister <33 also pls read a/n for more info

a/n: in which you are dating one of the girlies, meet their fathers, and detailing your journey into becoming part of the family. i kinda wrote this with the idea of what it’s like to not come from a healthy family in mind, but it’s also vague and written in a way where you’re able to interpret it and shape it to fit whatever you have in mind and relate it to what you know. the main theme here, though, is finding/making your own family and building a beautiful life despite your past. this is kinda just me hoping i’ll be able to do the same one day. i began writing this while really sad, but i’m posting this in much better spirits. this started with my sadness, but now it makes me feel hopeful. anyways, pls enjoy, and if you think you’ll need them, get your tissues ready. i love you all and you are all so beautiful and worthy of love and good things. and if any of you ever need anything, my inbox and dm's are open <333

GENERAL HEADCANONS — applies to both abby and ellie

It’s an uncomfortable conversation, but when your relationship with her started getting serious, you explained what your family/home life was like and that although you’d love to, your family probably wouldn’t want to foster a close relationship with either of you. You told her you understood if this was a dealbreaker and if it was something she couldn’t tolerate, but that wasn’t her reaction at all. Instead, you were met with complete understanding that almost left you sobbing. You were happy to have someone finally understand that family—and navigating it—hasn’t been easy for you and it was good to not have things out of your control held against you for once.

As your relationship progressed, she made it clear to you that she’d love to introduce you to her family and that they were excited to meet you. She promised that they’d accept you into open arms and that everything would go well, so there was nothing to worry about.

You were nervous, of course, unsure how any of it would unfold because you had never met her family before. You had heard so much about them and knew they must have been amazing people to have raised someone as great as your girlfriend, but you were still scared. What if they could see everything wrong with you with just one look? What if they thought you were too damaged and no good for their daughter? Or what if they just didn’t like you? It was all so worrisome, but your girlfriend assured you it would all be okay.

Meeting the rest of the family was one thing, but meeting their fathers was the scariest part.

ABBY ANDERSON

You met Abby's dad during Thanksgiving—typical and sappy, but just so Abby. Of course she’d bring someone home during the holidays. You had been dating her for almost a year now, so it was about time you met him. You knew that Abby's mother passed when she was very young, and you also knew it would just be the three of you together for the holiday. Jerry did everything to make any occasion happy for his daughter since he knew her life would be hard enough without a mother, and that included holidays. As a busy surgeon—the top one of your city’s hospital, no less—he’s lucky to get this day off, and although he can’t make a whole turkey on his own, he cooks many other dishes to make up for it. He goes all out making desserts as he likes baking more than cooking, and he’s the main reason Abby has such a sweet tooth.

Jerry is nothing but welcoming to you, telling you how he’s heard so much about you (which in turn makes Abby blush, thinking to herself, He wasn’t supposed to say that! but she still keeps her cool). He asks you all about yourself, if you’re in school and what for, what your plans for the future are, then jumps straight into his dad-threats. He tells you in a serious voice that you better take care of his daughter, then lets out a laugh and offers you a slice of pie.

It went well, and you even stayed the night at Abby's childhood home, sleeping in her big and well-furnished room.

“What do you think?” she asked.

“I think it went well,” you said. The two of you were huddled up underneath the covers in her old bed, and it’s comfier than you expected. Maybe it’s because Abby has you pulled close to her chest as her hand rubs comforting circles on your back, but it’s still heavenly. “I just can’t tell if he likes me or not.”

“Please, he likes you,” she assured you. You could feel her trailing her hand down your sides gently now. “Otherwise he wouldn’t have been in such a good mood today. Promise.” You let out a small sigh at her words. You didn’t want to argue with her about this, and you felt the only thing you could possibly do was hope she was right.

You did see Jerry a few times after that, but it was only when Abby invited you to go see him with her. He was always kind and welcoming, but you couldn’t shake the gnawing feeling in your chest that maybe he didn’t actually like you. What if he was faking all of it? You couldn’t think of any good reasons why he’d like you and accept you with open arms. It didn’t make sense to you because all you knew to expect from a parental figure was rejection. Maybe he just didn’t think you were good enough for his daughter. You didn’t tell Abby any of this, though, because you knew she’d be crushed to hear you don’t think her dad likes you. It’s also because she’ll just tell you for the millionth time he does, and you’d hate asking her for the same reassurance over and over again. In the case of her father’s acceptance, it would do nothing to quell your fears.

You hadn’t expected the holiday season to help erase these fears, but they did. After a late night of watching movies, Abby brought up visiting her father for Christmas with you by her side. She was excited as she told you all about her and her dad’s traditions: drinking hot coco, watching cheesy Christmas movies, stockings full of gifts, and the works. You couldn’t tell her no. Not when her face was beaming with excitement and she had a big smile across her face. You appreciated how much she wanted to include you—no, scratch that, cherished it—but deep down inside you felt out of place. You felt like an environment as soft and as warm as that was not a place where you belonged. It’s not what you knew, not what you were used to, but you put on a brave face for Abby.

You didn’t believe her when she told you how extensively Jerry decorated the house, but it was exactly as she said. As soon as you walked through the front door, you could smell the vanilla candles and the scent of pine mixed together. You were greeted not only by Jerry, but by the presence of mini-Santa statues and multi-colored nutcrackers. There was a big wreath on the outside of the front door, and an even bigger one hung around the family portrait of Abby and her father. The Christmas tree was huge, probably close to six feet tall, and by the smell of the fresh pine emanating from it, you knew it was real. The tree was decorated with gold and silver ornaments, bright lights, tinsel, and a giant star at the top. The fireplace had stockings lined up against the chimney with other statues, trinkets, and family photos lining the shelf. The tree casted a warm glow over the living room, and it just felt so cozy inside. It’s crazy to think that this is what Abby grew up with, that this is the kind of childhood she had, but at the same time you’re happy it was. It’s what she deserves.

It may be Christmas day, but it’s already 9 P.M., so Jerry suggests hot coco, sweets, and a cheesy movie. Abby, of course, agrees and picks out her favorite movie for you all to watch. You helped her pick it out, specifically choosing it because you’ve never seen it before and because you know she loves it. You all get a slice of Jerry’s homemade apple pie, and it’s so warm and gooey you’re sure you’ve never tasted anything like it before. You wonder where in the mix of being a surgeon he found the time to be so good at baking, but it’s still so endearing. You wonder how many times he practiced these recipes for Abby, and it’s so heartwarming. You hope you can one day offer her a home the same way Jerry has.

Jerry settles into his worn-out, leather recliner with his cup of hot chocolate while you and Abby occupy the couch. There’s a glass coffee table in front of it where your two mugs rest as the two of you are snug in a blanket you’re sharing together. You’re nestled into Abby’s side with her arm over your shoulder as you watch the movie together. It’s comfortable, and the warm, yellow lights make the moment that much more beautiful. They cast a glow on Abby, making her look sweeter than she already does. Her hair is down for once, and you’re lost in the tenderness of the moment. Occasionally the two of you move forward and grab your mugs for a sip, but besides that this wholeness has no interruptions. It’s like you can feel your doubts melting away, and you feel comforted, welcomed, by the warmth of this moment. It doesn’t seem to push you away anymore, but rather it’s something you feel compelled to be a part of now. Well, no, that’s not exactly right either. It’s like you are a part of it now, and it’s accepting your embrace rather than your rejection. You don’t feel the need to push it away anymore, to create excuse after excuse as to why you don’t deserve it, and it’s like you’re finally letting it make its home in your heart.

After the movie finished and you all had your fill of hot chocolate, you hear Jerry get up from his seat and mention that he wants to give out stockings. You don’t think much of it, watching the man as he walks up to the fireplace and grabs two of the stockings that were hanging. You hadn’t paid much attention to them earlier, but when he comes up to you and Abby, you realize you should’ve. One has Abby’s name stitched into it with blue and orange thread, and the other has your name threaded into it with your favorite colors. He gives Abby her stocking first, then holds the one with your name on it out towards you.

“Is that for me?” you asked.

“Sure is,” Abby answered. You glance over at her and she’s practically beaming. She seems so proud of herself.

“Abby helped me make it. She made sure it had your favorite colors and everything,” Jerry explained. You finally take the stocking from his hands, feeling the heft of the weight of whatever was inside.

“I bet she got mad if you suggested a color that wasn’t.” You crack a joke in the face of this moment, because if you think too hard, look at the stocking too long, you might start crying.

“Nearly tore my head off,” Jerry laughed. “But it’s so you know you’re part of the family now.” You nod your head, clenching your jaw as your gaze keeps shifting between the stocking and the floor.

“Thank you,” was all you could manage to say in reply. You’re sure you could burst into tears at any moment, but at the very least they’re happy ones.

ELLIE WILLIAMS

You were never as scared of anything as you were to meet Joel Miller. You had seen him in photos with him and Ellie, and he did not look like he played around. In fact, he looked like he’s never fucked around a day in his life. The man intimidated you, and you had never even met him before.

Ellie’s Uncle Tommy’s birthday was coming up, and you were invited to the family celebration that would include Uncle Tommy, Aunt Maria, Joel, Ellie’s older sister, Sarah, and now you.

You had met Joel in passing with a quick “hello” whenever you visited his and Ellie's house, but you had never formally met him, especially not the rest of the family, either. You had also never met Sarah as she lived in a different city and was older than you and Ellie, but you were excited to. She was a young teen when Ellie had been adopted, and you had heard so many stories from Ellie about what an amazing older sister she was, so that was at least one family member you weren’t scared of. Uncle Tommy and Aunt Maria, though? Maria was intimidating, and Tommy and Joel had both been in the military. Who wouldn’t be afraid?

“Everything’s gonna be okay,” Ellie reassured you. You were both standing in front of Tommy and Maria’s front door, nervous as could be. Ellie held your hand in hers as she rubbed her thumb across your skin. “They’ll love you, promise.” Ellie reached up with her free hand and knocked on the door. A second passed in silence between the two of you before the door opened, and you were met face-to-face with Maria. She had short graying hair and a freckled face that reminded you of Ellie’s, and as soon as her eyes landed on the two of you, her lips turned upwards into a wide smile.

“Ellie, is this [Y/N]?” she asked. Ellie smiled shyly as she nodded her head.

“Yes, this is her,” she answered.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you,” Maria said politely. She was just all smiles, and she was much warmer compared to the scary image of her you created in your head. To be fair, she did seem really intimidating from her pictures, but she was nothing of the sort.

“Nice to meet you, too,” you managed to reply. You were still nervous, feeling like you were choking on the anxious butterflies dancing around your stomach.

“And she’s polite,” Maria prodded. She smiled even bigger as she pulled the door open for the two of you. “Anyways, come in. Joel and Tommy are in the back with the grill set up already, so just follow me.” Ellie walked through the doorway, pulling you with her towards the back of the house. Maria led you through the house’s front hallway into the living den furnished with couches and countless photos and decor hanging on the blue walls, then turned left into the kitchen. Sitting at the table was an older woman at least in her 30’s scrolling through her phone, but her eyes perked up as soon as she saw you all enter the kitchen. Almost immediately an excited smile spread across her face.

“Sarah!” Ellie greeted. The woman jumped up from her seat and gave Ellie a tight hug.

“Ellie, is this her?” she asked. Her eyes kept moving back and forth between the two of you.

“Yes, this is her,” Ellie answered.

“Wow, I’m so happy to meet you!” Sarah cheered. She came over to you and gave you a hug, something you hadn’t expected, but you returned it the best you could. As soon as Sarah pulled away from the hug, she was talking again. The way she carried herself was so confident and firm, and she held great amounts of eye contact while speaking—something you were struggling with at the moment. “Ellie has told me so much! She never stops talking about you!” She had a sweet, Texan accent when she spoke like Joel, while Ellie only had a slight one in comparison.

“Sarah!” Ellie groaned.

“What?” she asked coyly. “Was I not supposed to say that?” The answer was yes, and she knew that, but how could she resist teasing her little sister? Ellie just rolled her eyes.

“Come on, y’all, they’re waiting for us outside,” Maria announced. She nodded her head in the direction of the door behind the kitchen table, and you found yourself taking a deep breath. The door was glass, so you could see the wooden porch outside and the green grass, but no sign of Joel or Tommy—you know, just the two men who terrified you the most.

“Oh, yeah, I was gonna help Dad with the grill,” Sarah sighed.

“You? Helping with the grill?” Ellie teased.

“Hmm, more like standing there and talking to him,” she said.

“That sounds more like what you meant,” Ellie responded.

“Yeah, see y’all out there.” Sarah got up from her seat and was the first to open the back door, the hot air and smell of grilled meat wafting in as soon as she did. Maria followed her soon after, and you knew you and Ellie should follow suit, but you found yourself stuck, unsure what to do.

“Hey, you okay?” Ellie asked. The sound of the door closing shut hung in the air, and you knew you’d have to open it again soon.

“Yeah, just… nervous,” you explained.

“Everything will be alright, promise. I’m gonna be here the whole time, and we’re gonna be eating, too. That won’t be too bad, now, will it?” she asked.

“No, I guess not,” you replied.

“And you’ve got me right next to you. Don’t forget that.” Ellie gave you a sheepish smile, and you did your best to return it despite the queasiness in your stomach.

The barbeque went well, and it wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be. In fact, you felt well-received by Tommy as Maria and Sarah helped encourage him to hold conversation with you. The two women did a lot to help conversation flow and welcome you as much as possible, but the one person you felt like you weren’t getting through to was Joel. He was just so… quiet. It’s as if he was always on guard, always analyzing the situation, but what did you expect from a guy who used to be in the military? That seems to be the exact kind of disposition he’d have. He only really gave small replies in single words here and there, maybe an autobiographical question for you, then he’d retreat back to his silence. It was honestly unnerving, and as much as you did your best to immerse yourself in the conversation, in Ellie’s little jokes, Tommy’s laughter, Joel intimidated you more than anyone else ever had before. Why was he so quiet? Did he see something wrong with you? Did he not think you were fit to be his daughter’s girlfriend? Was he waiting for you to make a mistake? Was he planning how to tell Ellie that he didn’t think the two of you were a good match? All the possibilities were endless, and every single one terrified you to no end.

Despite the anxiety eating you up from the inside, you did your best to maintain your composure. You answered whatever questions Ellie’s family had for you, laughed at the jokes like you should have, all while trying to keep the crushing fear at bay. Ellie seemed to sense it somewhat, because at multiple points throughout the dinner she’d grab your hand under the table or rub your thigh comfortingly. When the night started slowing down, the sun sinking lower and lower, Tommy and Maria declared the end of the dinner and started clearing the table. Joel and Sarah disappeared into the house, carrying trash and whatever else they could back inside. Ellie leaned in close to your ear in order to speak.

“How are you feeling?” she whispered.

“I’m doing okay,” you answered. “Not as nervous as before, but still a little.”

“Did you enjoy yourself, though?”

“I did,” you replied.

“Joel and Tommy are good at barbecuing, huh?”

You laughed a little at her prodding. “Yeah, they are.”

“Look, we’re gonna get you some extra family points, yeah? Let’s offer to help Maria clean up. How does that sound?”

“Sounds good to me,” you said. This time you were the one to offer Ellie a little smile, one she was happy to see on your face after such a long day.

“Perfect.” She stood up from her chair and brushed off her jeans. “Hey, Maria, let me and [Y/N] help you clean up a bit,” she announced.

“Well, aren’t you sweet?” Maria asked.

“The sweetest,” Ellie joked. You were next to stand up from the table, picking up both your plate and Ellie’s while she gathered the left behind cups. Tommy had already retreated inside with the large dishes of food, leaving you with just Maria and Ellie. It was quiet besides the clanking of the dishes as all three of you walked inside. Ellie walked behind you as you reentered the house, slotting dishes in the sink and discarding whatever trash she had. Ellie came up behind you, her back pressing into yours for a second when Maria disappeared into the living room where everyone else presumably was.

“How far do we wanna take these points?” she whispered.

“Well, what are you thinking?” you asked her.

“I say we wash the dishes,” she suggested, and you could just imagine the stupid, little grin on her face. “It’ll make them like me more, too.”

“You’re such a dork,” you said as the laugh spilled out your lips. You turned around to look at her, and there was a goofy grin on her face just like you expected. Her hands ventured to rest on your waist, placing a kiss on your forehead.

“Whatever. Come on, let’s just do it.”

“Okay, you hate doing the dishes, so I’m starting to wonder what this is really about.”

“I… may or may not have promised Maria I’d do the dishes, and she’ll kill me if I don’t.”

“This is why you watch the promises you make,” you said.

“Moving along,” she said in a rushed manner, “are you gonna help me or not?”

“Yeah, because I need you alive.”

You and Ellie slotted yourselves side by side as you were forced to wash the dishes on account of your girlfriend’s promises. She was stuck washing while you dried the dishes. At one point Joel had wandered through the kitchen, muttering a small greeting to you both before disappearing outside. He left the back door open somewhat, but you said nothing, figuring he would be coming back inside soon. Despite the small interruption, Ellie, of course, couldn’t help being a little shit and splashing you with water every once in a while.

“You got my shirt wet!” you’d scold her.

“I’m sorry, baby,” she’d say all fakely. She pulled you into a hug, but once you separated, she splashed you with water again. After washing the dishes and Ellie cleaned the kitchen up a bit, you could tell she was tired and ready to go home.

“You look tired,” you commented to her.

“Yeah, I’m… all tuckered out. You ready to go home?”

“If you are, yeah.”

“Okay, let me find my… Where are my keys?” she asked. She patted at her pockets, looking for any sign of them, only to come back empty. “I think I left them outside.”

“I can go get them for you,” you offered.

“Oh, good idea. You get my keys and I say bye to everyone for us. Perfect.”

“Alright, I’ll go find them for you. Be right back.” You gave Ellie a quick kiss on the cheek before wandering outside through the back door. As soon as you stepped outside, your eyes landed on Joel sitting on one of the chairs with a mug in his hand. You had forgotten he was even out here in the first place, and you hadn’t expected or planned for this interaction with him. You took a deep, calming breath. You needed to act normal.

“Hello, Joel,” you spoke up. He turned to look at you, then returned his gaze to his mug. It was dark outside, and the porch light may have been on, but it was a dim, yellow light. Not at all helpful as your eyes scoured the ground for Ellie’s keys.

“Hello.” It was quiet as you wandered to the table, looking across the top of it for Ellie’s keys. Still no sign of them. You pulled the chairs out, and you didn’t find them on the seats either. You sighed as you pulled out your phone and turned on your flashlight. “What are you lookin’ for?” Joel asked.

“Um, Ellie’s keys. She can’t find them.” You squatted down to the floor, shining the light around the wooden porch as you continued your search.

“Oh, you two gettin’ ready to leave?” he asked. You turned your phone to the right, and something silver glinted back at you. The keys. Thank God. You grabbed onto them and got back up from the ground.

“Yeah, she said she was tired and ready to go home.”

Joel let out a small chuckle. “That sounds like her,” he remarked.

“It very much is her,” you replied.

“I heard her splashin’ you with water in there.”

“She can’t help herself,” you said. “She apologized, then she did it again.”

“Does that… make you mad?” he asked.

“No, not at all.” You were wondering what he was getting at with the question.

“You and her seem to get along well,” he pointed out.

“I think so, too,” you said, hoping you were choosing your words well.

“I can tell she really loves you, you know,” Joel said. He took a sip out of his drink, then glanced at you. “And you seem really good for her, too.” The words hit you right in the heart. You knew from what Ellie told you that Joel wasn’t a man of many words, but these were just enough. They seemed to give you the kind of confirmation you were looking for, that maybe you could put down the anxiety plaguing your mind.

“I’m glad you think so,” you said. You glanced at the mug in his hands again. Was that steam? “Can I ask what you’re drinking?”

“It’s coffee.”

“This late?” you asked.

“The girls always tell me that,” he said, and you saw the smallest glimpse of a smile ghosting his lips. You figured by “the girls,” he must have been referring to Sarah and Ellie, and that small detail stuck out to you. Despite how scary he was, deep down inside he was just a dad. A girl-dad, at that.

“Ellie always tells me how much she hates coffee.”

“She never lets that go. I tell her she has underdeveloped tastebuds to make her mad.”

“That’s perfect for getting under her skin,” you replied.

“That’s why I say it. Anyways, she’s probably lookin’ for you by now, or me, maybe.”

“Probably,” you responded. “After I find her, she’ll probably come tell you bye before we leave. I’m gonna do that now.”

“You go do that,” he said. “And you better take good care of her, by the way.” You smiled a little bit. Had you heard him say that earlier, you probably would have shit your pants, but now you were comforted by the dad-threat.

“I will,” you said confidently.

“Or I will… do something. I don’t know, I’ll figure it out.”

“I take your word for it,” you replied. You turned around to walk back inside, keys in hand, a new kind of pep in your step as you looked for Ellie.

#abby anderson #abby anderson headcanons #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x you #abby anderson x y/n #abby anderson fluff #abby anderson x reader fluff #ellie williams #ellie williams headcanons #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams x reader fluff #tlou x reader

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milkie2 · 5 months

Note

hi i wanted to say i appreciate your short comic regarding medkit & depth perception. i have one functioning eye (due to get my eye removed soon(TM)) and i didn't struggle as hard with depth perception (bc eye injury since childhood), but i still struggle with it sometimes. the comic made my struggles feel seen and it brought a smile to my face. thanks gamer

AAAAA HELLO HIIIII THANK YOU SO MUCH AND YW^^^^

I honestly didn’t expect to receive this but AAAAA I feel so glad the comic made you feel that way!! <33

I didn’t really have a deep thought in mind when I made this comic and just thought not enough people mention it but seeing your inbox changed that to smth more and this made me genuinely feel so happy AAAHDJJDA <333

Wishing you a lot of good luck on your surgery!! ^^^^ TYSMM!!!

#ask

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quackysmackk · 9 months

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OAKFKDJFNGJN I JUST STARTED READING YOUR FNAF COMIC AND IT MAKES ME SO HAPPY AKJDJFJJF

It's so fun to read and I'm so excited to see where the plot goes aljfjekjfj

I couldn’t sleep and I was going through my inbox- IM WHEEZING THIS IMAGE IS SO FUNNY 😭

But I’m so happy to hear that tho! I really do hope you enjoy it! <333

#asks #galaxythedragonshifter asks #help I can’t sleep

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wife-of-all-dilfs · 6 months

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also question about writing bc right now a bitch (it’s me, hi !!!) is struggling. how do u decide on plots & how do u structure them? bc i have two separate fic ideas & i do plan on writing both of them but not only am i struggling to decide which i wanna do first bc i really like them both but i also don’t know how to structure either of them.

i’m also procrastinating like a motherfucker so yk that’s super fun <333

i didn't see this in my inbox. i'm so sorry, forgive me, por favor 🙏

HI!! honestly, i really struggle with creating plots, it often takes me a long time to piece something together which factors into my excruciatingly long writing process.

i typically get inspiration from movies, tv shows, and books, and i give them my own original twist. i self-indulge a lot with my writing, meaning i write what i would enjoy in a relationship or i channel my emotions into what I'm writing (sadness, happiness, hornyness, what).

my advice (and i do realise i'm a little late to be giving advice) would be to write the fic that you resonate more with, the one you have a clearer picture in your head of, the one you are more emotionally connected with and know you will enjoy writing all the way through to the end.

structure-wise, i just dot-point vague descriptions of how I want the story to pace—different characters actions, internal dialogue, verbal dialogue, setting description, etc. it is very basic and messy, but it's just a guideline to keep your writing juices flowing.

e.g.:

character a walks over to character b

character b looks character a up and down, causing them to blush

[write description of character a's feelings for character b]

character b flirts with character a

"dialogue, flirting"

they get interupted

it's a shitty example but it explains what I'm trying to get across.

also, make sure your pacing isn't too fast or slow; writing a story is like sailing down a river—at some points, the water is going to flow more slowly, giving you time to savour your surroundings and create a visceral image in your mind's eye.

at other points, the water will turn to rapids, and only the most basic descriptions are necessary to the plot. deciding on which pace to use is mostly done on instinct and practice.

if you still can't decide which fic to write first, you can always try writing both at the same time. you aren't bound by any rules. write in a way you enjoy, even if it seems unorthodox to others! <333

idk if this made any sense, but I do hope it was at least a little bit helpful lmaoo

#writing #writing tips #writing help

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leviathans-watching · 2 years

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Heyy, so this is probably a really weird request but would you mind doing Obey me bro's + datables (if not that's okay <333)) with a gn type one diabetic MC? Just like.. everyone watching MC give themself shots and stuff or when their blood sugars are high they get really agitated to the point where they feel like crying cause they don't want to deal with diabetes anymore? I've been having a difficult time recently with my own diabetes ^^'. If you don't want to do this then please don't feel like you have to!!!! <3333

mc with type 1 diabetes

includes: om! cast & gn!reader (no pronouns mentioned)

wc: .4 k | rated g | m.list

warnings: depictions of needles/injections, dicussions of uncurable conditions and the feelings that might arise from them, mentions of death

a/n: i do not have diabetes nor am i that knowledgeable about the condition but i did do research ofc. however, if i got anything wrong or just am misrepresenting the experience/condition please lmk as that is not my intention at all! i hope this helps & ty for requesting!! my inbox is open to chat, req, or leave feedback so come say hello

please reblog :)

“doesn’t it hurt?” mammon asks, watching with poorly concealed curiosity as you attach the needle to your pen. “giving yourself shots every day?”

“i mean, yeah,” you reply, “but over time you kind of get used to it so i don’t really mind it anymore.”

“why do you have to give yourself shots again?” luke leans forward, squinting at the needle. “don’t humans have pills or other forms of medicine?”

“yeah, but insulin, which is the medicine i take, breaks down in our stomachs so it has to be injected.” aware of everyone's eyes upon you, you ruck up your shirt slightly, pinching a spot on your abdomen. with practiced ease you give yourself the shot, a little amused that asmo, who’s a demon for crying out loud, is too squeamish to watch. once you’re done, you remove the needle from the pen.

“that was it?” satan breaks the silence.

“i told you guys, i’m pretty used to it. but not everything about diabetes is that easy.” with a sigh you remember all of the times your sugar levels had reached worrying highs and lows and the frustration you often feel for having to deal with such a condition. “there’s no cure, and if i’m not careful, one mistake can be really dangerous. it’s honestly tiring to live with.”

“it’s not fair,” leviathan says suddenly. “that you have to live with it.”

you give him a wry, tired smile. “living with chronic issues or autoimmune conditions often aren’t. believe me, i completely agree with you.”

“is there anything we can do to help?” diavolo asks, a genuine worry lining his face. you’re touched that they all care so much.

“i mean, i’m pretty used to managing it on my own,” you begin, but seeing how they deflate hurriedly continue, “but sometimes i need a workout buddy because i get tired or it can be helpful for reminders to watch my bloodsugar or what i eat. but not too many though,” you add, knowing otherwise you’d be swamped in overwhelming concern.

“you should shows us what to do if something bad were to happen,” lucifer says seriously. “that way we know how to help.”

“that’s a good idea,” you reply. “thank you all for your support and care. it really means a lot to me.”

“well, duh!” mammon crows. “we love ya, mc, and want to make sure you’re safe and healthy.”

“and happy,” belphie adds. “so if you’re upset of feeling down i’m always there to listen.”

“thanks guys,” you say warmly. how’d you get so lucky to have such great people around you?

leviathans-watching's work - please do not copy, repost, or claim as your own

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toska-writes · 1 year

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Heyyy could you maybe write like an angsty one shot for fives x platonic reader with a happy pleaseee i love your writing so much your stories are all so we'll written thank you for all your one shots <333

This one has been in the inbox for so long there’s practically cobwebs on it

“Darken Worlds”

Summary: 2 times where you and Fives had each other to hold on to.

Paring: Fives x GN padawan!reader (PLATONIC)

Warning: ⚠️SPOILERS FOR “THE CITADEL” and THE UMBARAN ARC. Angstttttt hurt/comfort- this one is pretty sad MAJOR SPOILERS FOR DEATHS IF YOU DIDN’T SEE

Word count: 1409 (Not proof read)

Notes: there is no really happy ending in this one because it is my job to try and make you cry😈

It was hard to breath. For the first time in a long time the bucket over Fives head seemed too small.

His skin crawled as each remaining member of their squad passed. But Fives’ eyes scanned what was behind them.

Ragged breaths racked his body, he ripped the helmet from his head. It all felt wrong as his eyes tried frantically to search for a ghost.

Wait. He could still make it. His eyes were like hawks looking for any movement in the rubble and smoke from before.

He just needed a little longer. Fives knew that this couldn’t be the end.

All the other dominos have fallen, and he was unfortunately the last one standing alone.

Title waves of emotions crashed off of Fives, it shook your entire being as you looked over your shoulder to find him not coming along.

It nearly knocked the breath out of your lungs as you slowly advanced to his position. If you didn’t have the force you wouldn’t be able to tell anything was truly wrong.

Maybe that’s what scared you most for Fives.

To everyone he was watching the back of the pack, making sure nothing followed. Only now he hoped one person was.

“Fives?” Your voice caught in your throat watching as Fives’ helmet hit the ground, not acknowledging your words his back was still turned.

You knew what happened. The pained scream of Echos’ name ringed towards the back of your mind.

The pastroid armor heaved up and down in an uneven manner the longer you looked at Fives.

“Fives.” You were sterner this time walking up next to the trooper. The unraveling of his emotions were like pulling on a loose string.

Your hand reached out and rested on the shoulder plate. The string was pulled.

“Echo-“ He looked at you now, his voice was unlike anything that you’ve ever heard.

Unsure. Scared. He was unraveling.

“I know Fives.” You couldn’t help your voice from breaking. A lump rose in your throat making it harder and harder to breath.

In an instant Fives was engulfed in your arms. The larger man seemed to kneel down to your level and shove his head in the crook of your neck.

Fives’ whole body heaved as his sobs became louder and your shoulder was damp.

Tears of your own leaked down your face as you squeezed the trooper tighter. “I’ve got you Fives, it’s ok.”

His words were broken up by tears, stringing them together you got. “Echos gone- I saw him. He’s gone.”

Cradling the back of his head you could feel Fives’ grip on the back of your robes as you didn’t dare to move.

“I’m so sorry Fives.” A sob of your own was heard. “I know, I’ve got you Fives.”

You consoled many troopers before. Some, including Fives comforted you. Seeing a trooper as strong as Fives and one that you held as such an idol like this really opened your eyes to this war.

But right now Fives’ needed someone.

“Is he really gone?” The person speaking through Fives was no longer the mischievous ARC, it was that of an unguarded child. So vulnerable and ready to break.

You could only nod in response for a moment, afraid your own voice would betray you more. But soon you found your voice to say. “I don’t think Echo made it.”

An audible cry rung through your ears and your heart. You knew what it was like to be the last one standing, for better or for worse you both somehow made it this far and you couldn’t quite.

“I’ve got you Fives.”

•✩•

“They’ve got our gear and our weapons.” It was sick to you the fact that those Umbarans were dressed as the fallen just to get a jump on you.

In an instant from the thick fog horizon blaster bullets rained down as you were forced to take cover or pay the consequences.

A blaster rested at your side, your main focus being on your lightsaber until a stray shot seated your hand.

With a hiss the saber fell from your grasp while you were forced to duck out of the way yet again. The fog was so murky your senses didn’t even feel right as your eyes scanned desperately for your lightsaber.

You pushed forward without it for now, the darkness of the planet sat awkwardly in your mind making the force much more challenging to comfortably use.

Shot after shot you could barely see the enemies forces dropping, but so was your own.

“We’re experiencing high casualties.” You barely heard the words crackle over the comms. Worried you looked around towards some of your men.

You quickly located Fives and what you could make out as Tup- For a shiny the kid was alright.

Movement was seen in front of you, a shadow was running across the battlefield frantically. Your blaster was trained on it until you heard the unmistakable voice of your captain.

“Stop shooting! Those are our men stop.” You lowered your blaster slightly. You couldn’t be hearing this right.

You were fighting your own men? There’s no way-

Rex continued on as you emerged from your cover slowly following him.

“Take off your helmets, show them who you are.” His voice was desperate trying to pled with anyone who would listen.

The blaster fire died down as the captain continued his shouting. You watched Rex tackle what you once assumed the enemy to be, only now this time in his arms Rex held Cody to show the whole galaxy who they were fighting.

The breath was ripped from your lungs as all you could do was stare. You watched Rex look around at all his men before letting Cody go.

He feel to his knees with Rex close behind taking a huge breath in. They were firing at their own brothers.

They were killing their own brothers.

“No no no-“ the whispers escaped your mouth gradually becoming louder until finally you yelled. “No!”

The scream echoed throughout the planet, no doubt registering in the ears of the soldiers around.

Dread fell over you looking at all the bodies of the fallen, on both sides of the field. You don’t remember when Fives walked over to you, you could only feel as he slung an arm over your shoulder letting you collapse into his side.

Anyone who has ever know you could tell of how high up you held the clones in your heart, maybe that was why the first to get to you was Fives.

“Those were our men.” You couldn’t look up into Fives eyes, not now. “We’ve lost so many.” Your voice cracked in the last sentence.

It didn’t matter who could see, everyone felt the same it was just a matter of who would show it.

Fives looked up from where he had you cradled in his chest, all of this brothers had the same look of lost in their eyes. Rex met his own and he realized the same thing.

They were turned against their own men, and a kid watched and took part in it all.

The sobs seemed to wash over Fives as he slowly melted to the ground with you.

With a firm grip on both of your shoulders Fives held you up so he could get a good look at your face.

Red eyes met is own and it took everything in Fives not to break down with you right now. “You listen to me.” He spoke with a hard tone, only the edges seemed to reveal truly what he felt.

“It wasn’t your fault. You got that?”

It was you that had to be here, it was you Krell didn’t take in account for when he sent Anakin back to Courusant, and it was you that now had to live with it.

You shook your head slightly at his statement but a hand stoped you and wiped the river that poured from your eyes.

“I’ve got you here, it’s over now.” This time the word we’re more quiet, like Fives was telling you a secret that only you could here.

“Fives-“ you spoke softly saying his name. He was the one thing that was still here, but you feared if you moved too much the dark mist would take him away.

“I’m here with you.” Fives knew what it was like to survive, but sometimes it’s what you have to do.

_____________________________________

Taglist: @arctrooper69 @thereforepizza @padawancat97 @pb-jellybeans @floffytofu @verybadatwriting @solstraalaa @ray-rook @ct-0113

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