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starfishstark · 3 months ago

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frank with someone who's very independent but actually pretty anxious inside? a person who can talk and appear pretty confident but really is super shy and quiet if you got to know her really. I just feel like he's pick up in that so early, doing chores for you he knows you don't like to do. AND when he finally gets you in bed and sees how shy you are he's shocked at the difference

OH. EM. GEEEEEEEE.

girl the way i could talk about this for hours im literally on my phone and im about to spit out all my headcanons on this (probably 700+ words on this, eyeballing)

if ur here for smut i have it bolded where it starts from

we all know, no shit, frank has UNHEALTHY habits. like man will rely on the fucking force and will power to get through his day, but the second it’s anyone else? it’s all of a sudden “nah, you knew you were hurting urself and you let it slide? nah you don’t hurt someone i love.” dhhdjeuxhdj man just fuck me on the wall don’t you

and i’m assuming like this is a reader who knows how to cope with that anxiety, just getting through her day and pulling through till she can curl up next to him at the end of the night, wanting sleep so she can just shut everything out for a second till the next day

NOW ME PERSONALLY. THIS FITS ME SO WELL. everyone assumes im an extrovert bc of how much i like to talk to people and openly try new things, BUTTTT if you were really close to me, you’d know how much i’d like to step back and let someone else take the wheel, how much i’d CRAVE it.

i’d be friending all night and day for a chance to just let someone control me (frank castle, baby, WHERE YOU ATTTT)

i think frank would clock you out so GODDAMN QUICK. in his life? false walls, fake personalities, they don’t work out. he’s gotta know who’s who at the very instant he meets them.

see you may think you’re masking your anxiety pretty well, or that you’re hiding this shyness great with conversation and such, but he notices. maybe it’s the way you tug on your sleeve, play with your rings, sway back and forth in a comforting rhythm just waiting to get by yourself again.

and here is our conundrum- frank castle knows you.

he all of a sudden knows the big ol secret that you’ve been covering for a while, because what the fuck? being vulnerable? huh? what’s that?

and it just shoots up from there, everytime you’re around him before you start dating, he starts doing little things to ease your anxiety.

maybe you’re getting food with your friends, he guides you in with the rest of the group, gets a table and gets everyone situated, and all of a sudden he’s telling you about this amazing dish on the menu that you’ll like, so you don’t have to worry about ordering. your fav drink? already memorized for last time. what? you need to book a ride back home? tf he just standing there for, “c’mon little lady, i gotchu covered.”

it’s so fucking pleasing to be around, relieving to experience, and just so perfect that you don’t notice he’s doing it on purpose, for you.

by the time you start dating, there’s so much trust built upon that foundation— yes, you can get bold and sassy time to time, but he knows at the end of the day, you want to be held. you want to just be held so tight like the rest of the world would fall apart if you didn’t, you want to feel like every seam is about to start floating apart if he doesn’t get those huge arms around you right there and then, squeezing like a weighted blanket, like a safe haven in the midst of everything

(i’m so fucking single someone hold me)

any time he’d notice your anxiety tics, like your hands kneading themselves in your lap, all of a sudden observing the lights in the middle of a conversation, oh he’s step right in, getting close to your ear so you could feel his presence around, so you could correlate the moment you felt safe and maybe trick your brain into giving into the warmth js for a second if he could help

“smthn the matter? talk to me hun”

right, but you being you, you get all people pleasing, lighting up your face with that years-of-practice smile and answering brightly enough that it tricks most people

frank being the only exception, taking your answer if your in public and reapproaching alone, or if it’s in public and it’s someone else bothering you, oh he’s be so quick to pluck you out of that place like a daisy.

already planning getting your favorite drink and someone to sit and talk so you don’t feel like you wasted a day, tf was that supposed to mean anyways, wasting a day? with a face like that? ain’t a day wasted when he woke up next to that face resting next to him.

if you’re the person to feel anxiety from just a messy house, he wouldn’t even complain. by the time you got home, the dishes are already out of the sink and arranged

the counters decluttered, and at least the bed is made. it puts your mind to ease when you don’t have to do it after your day, able to just toe your shoes off and run for a hot warm shower and then get started on dinner

if you didn’t want to make dinner, he’s already tying his apron or calling up take out (where tf does he get his money from? ion kno)

if ur like me, you like to make dinner in a clean kitchen bc u can play music, dance around and get stuff chopped up, cooked up, smelling good and tasting even better and it’s a control that seems small, but it just lets you…quiet. it’s a process but it’s not tedious, it’s healing, yknow.

he’s come up behind you, those large hands on your hips (fucking veiny, large, calloused hands on your hips, fingers splayed with and across the skin, the balm to your jittery energy, the still you need to stop moving so much, the need for your desires, god, i could write headcanons about those hands itself)

anyways. he’s deeply inhaling with his head crooked down to rest on your shoulder while he peers into whatever you were making, listening attentively, letting you get into the whole works of it.

you babble mindlessly while you cook, here and there breaking into dance from the music playing, and frank all but indulges you, letting you have your little bubble in this home, if not here then where?

ok, shut up starry, she came here for the fun stuff, stop projecting ur domestics canons onto them

(cri)

ladies and gentlemen of the jury, i plead guilty. pls have frank castle fuck me. matt is my lawyer he’s a very good one, tell em matt tell em how much i need frankie to bend me over

(matt sighs from the table: this is a parking ticket.)

now before yall got intimate for the first time, he knows you’re a tease, it’s an easy joke that spills out, oh yeah you’ve observed it people love to gaffaw at those kinda jokes, and you love to please some people.

and even with him, the stupidest things, and you’re a tease about it.

you’re kissing maybe, or maybe you just feel the energy, and you’re already yapping off going on and diffusing tension building inside you, it’s not anxiety but you can’t quite pinprick it yet. he makes you feel alive, but it’s new and you try to rid of it

oh but he gets your quiet real quick doesn’t he. all it takes is a “look at me, don’t hide. let me see your eyes.”

FUCK. GODDAMMIT. HOLY MAMA HAVE MY BABIES.

eye contact is SO HARD when you’re strung up, the thought of someone looking into you seeing you when you’re not your perfect self, it’s horrifying. yet he loves you so; maybe even more when that smug smile rests at his lips, pulling you by the chin back in for a smile.

yall haven’t even taken your clothes off yet, oh he’s gonna get a kick outta this

and we all know we’d already be wet as a slip n slide at this point, but he’s a gentlemen so he takes his sweet ol time with foreplay, lips on your skin while he unhooks your bra with one hand (my favorite party trick you geezer, js for me?) and all of a sudden you’re huffing and soft pants when his hands grasp at your chest, squeezing, with those hands, rough and yet measured delicately, oh he knows how to string you apart like that, you’re not moaning yet, but it takes you by surprise, your breaths are ticking up at the end, you like this so damn much

but frank is nothing if not a clever bastard, he makes you say it. “u like that? cmon, say it, hun. tell me to keep going, tell me you like that.”

yessir yessir yessir. god you can’t even look him in the eyes, mesmerized by the way everything feels that you trying to tuck yourself into him, wanting everything, wanting closeness, wanting him.

you’d end up murmuring something out, and he’d respond that he could hear you actually, insist on the fact (except he could hear the change in your breath from at ease to anxious? sure.)

he wouldn’t stop pressing against you, a soft roll of his hips before you could even start your second attempt at the sentence, effectively shutting you up and going “m cmon, lemme hear you.”

he’s not talking about you talking anymore

franks not stopping till you’re practically whimpering that it feels good, that he should keep going, shaking like a leaf, so he shushes you up, making quick work of the clothes, and kissing you brainless

“mm so quiet hunny? where’d my big-talking girl go, huh?”

MY GIRL 😫

(i have issues i know pls move along)

now he’s got you on your back, or pressed against the headboard, anywhere where he pries your legs apart, a kiss to your soft inner thighs as a thanks, one hand splayed across your hip and the other trying to work you open and loosen you up.

your eyes are skirting around, going here and there and trying to find a place to rest, practically blaring in your head DO NOT look down there; do NOT look up at him; Do NOT look at those damn muscle chiseled shoulders; the LAMP. yes. the lamp, very sexy, just focus on the lamp.

aw he’s having none of that, two fingers deep inside of you, not yet touching your sensitive soft clit, the sounds lewd and slick. knuckles deep, hitting places u physically couldn’t with his thicker longer fingers, grinning softly at your hesitance of where to look. that damn smile is what got you into this mess in the first place

“hun, look, look at me, ok? nah nunna that thinking nonsense, just look at me…n feel—yeah, you like that? right there? good girl, lemme hear you.”

you’re trembling, you’re gone coming after all that, eyes catching his and struggling still, but it’s his girls first time with a man good as him, he’s gotta let it slide. (oh he’s just a sucker for you)

once he’s successfully got you coming the first time, he’s gone. driven mad. you got this sheer coat of sweat painting your skin like a painting, eyes twinkling while they look up at him with expectations that he’s going to more than fulfill, hands propping herself up while he slides a pillow under her hips, so damn vulnerable and soft and fucking willing for him, willing to put up with his bullshit and his paranoia, trusting him and letting him control the moment, letting him soothe you, your need, it’s all driving him mad.

MADLY IN LOVE MWAHHAHAHAHAH (i am so sorry everyone i am not a serious person)

he knows you’re more sensitive cause you just came, and every stretch, every touch, feels like bliss exploding across your skin. it makes you so damn beautiful in his eyes

your hands are so small on him, anchoring onto his bicep or his shoulders, finding some place to hold onto while he fucking rails you into that bed

you know what getting hit by a freight train is like? me neither, but franks hotter than one anyways so who tf cares.

he’s got you gasping. hes got you there.

and all that sass, the attitude, teasing you gave him? worth every damn second of this. of this nervous shy girl that he knows js what to do with

make a (consensual) mess outta her

if you thought you’re getting away with only cumming once, well. it’s a good think he doesn’t want you to think in the first place, so you just lay back and let him take of it, why don’t ya?

ok back to my wholesome thoughts. we going aftercare with this one

ok anyways else a little sassy after sex like they’re making up for how dumb they were during it

(everyone boos at me. matt murdock in the back raises his hand and nods. “she’s right” he says. thank you matt)

so he’s cleaning you up and teasing you about what a mess it is down there and ur like “well who’s fault is that?”

and he grins, pressing just a little harder into that mound and rendering you useless for a minute, till you’re back again and going at him and he’s just smiling bc his girl is back. sassy, attitude, he loves it all. (especially when you’re as nervous as a mouse under him, but two sides to every coin type shi, yknow?)

warm bath depending on how boneless you are, still talking some crap against him while he picks you up from the bed like a bag of grapes, carrying you to the bath, (you’re still going on by the way)

it’s so heartwarming, just the way you got back up, he loves it. he loves you.

yeah, he loves you, alright.

and he gets u sushi. lotta sushi required for aftercare. or whatever the fuck you prefer. fufu? shi there’s gotta be a place in all of new york still open, and there’s gotta be some poor door dasher still ready to drive it over. italian? why didn’t u say so, the aprons coming out again.

anyways. cuddles. u get it i don’t gotta say more i’ve said enough.

i feel like deadpool with the amount of talking i just did. if i yap this much again, someone PLS say “starry, stfu” and get me outta my funk PLS

#frank castle x reader #frank castle #frank castle smut #frank castle x you #frank castle fluff #starry talks

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on-a-lucky-tide · 4 months ago

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just thought of a very sleepy nik w his hair ruffled and he's so so so warm and soft and i just died .im gone . How does Price not lose his mind at that sight

Anon, I think he actually would. I think it would be a full blown case of Price.exe has stopped working, 404 Error, bluescreening fuckery.

I think it would happen the first time he used his leave to spend time with Nik. Until then, their relationship had been fully and inextricably tangled in their work; snatched affection between operations, maybe sharing a cot or sleeping bag in a tent, a bed in a grotty rundown hotel but they still have to be up at the arse crack of dawn so they never get that full morning experience.

When they become "official", Nik asks Price whether they can spend some time away and Price, who has never had a reason to take leave beyond injury, gingerly books it in. Feels like he's breaking the law somehow, and Major MacMillan just calls him a "feckin' twat" with that sheepish look on his face.

Nik flies them to a little chateau in the south of France that belongs to a... uh, friend. Price doesn't ask any questions. They arrive late at night, shower, and tumble into bed because it has been a seriously exhausting few months. Price wakes at 5.30am because his body clock is wired that way after so many years. He leaves Nik to sleep because he looked absolutely shagged the previous day; perhaps he'd been up for over 24 hours due to an op.

Price goes for a walk into the little village for some pastries and coffees, enjoys the scenery and plans a few longer hikes in those distant hills, and then wanders his way back.

He expects Nik to be awake and standing on in the kitchen, but he isn't, so Price arranges breakfast on a tray and carries it upstairs, feeling all chuffed with himself that he's doing something romantic.

He stops in the doorway, his shoulder butting into the doorframe as he takes a moment to drink in the sight before him.

Nik is still tucked up in bed, the white sheets pooled around his waist, an arm beneath the pillow that cradles his head like a giant marshmallow. He is the most peaceful Price has ever seen him, hair ruffled, big chest and shoulders rising and falling in an even rhythm, completely out of it. His lips are slightly parted, stubbled jaw with its masculine lines all snuggled down into the softness of the bed.

Price has seen many a sunset, a mountain range, rainforests with rare and colourful animals, flowers. He's seen all seven wonders of the world. None of those compare to the sight of the man he loves safe, snug and relaxed in all those blankets.

And he's... well, he's Price's, right?

Price sets the tray down and sits carefully on the edge of the bed. He strokes the hair out of Nik's face and it's enough to stir Nik from whatever sweet dreams he was enjoying. He blinks awake, groggy, briefly confused, but it soon melts into a sleepy smile. "Dobroye utro, John," he murmurs, deep voice all sleep rough. "You are... dressed."

"Went for a walk," Price says. "Got breakfast."

"Hmm." Nik stretches his long legs out, seizes in a full body flex, like a bear waking from hibernation. "I would like an appetiser."

"An appe--?"

Price doesn't get to finish. In fact, his question devolves into an undignified yelp because Nik strikes like a bleedin' KorTac specialist and drags Price back under the blankets, making quick work of burrowing him out of his clothes. Turns out Price is the appetiser and holidays make Nik horny as all hell. Who knew.

#captain john price #cod nikolai #nikprice

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hyukalyptus · 5 months ago

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nsfw alphabet - hueningkai ! - cw. some mention of spanking (paddles/whips) in k, r, and t.

a = aftercare (what they’re like after sex) - biggest snuggle bug. i think he'd be too lazy to rly clean up even, just reaches for a t-shirt off the ground to clean y'all up a bit, then grabs u to snuggle, either spooning u and rubbing ur ass or ur laying on his chest :3

b = body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s) - ooooh ykw, i've never thought about what his favorite body part on himself is. probably his chest? i feel like he's pretty proud of his broad chest, and ofc fave body part on u is ur tummy

c = cum (anything to do with cum) - hm..likes stuffing it back inside u after it drips out

d = dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs) - rly wants to beg for a devil's threeway but is way too nervous ><

e = experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?) - ykw. i'd say average..? like he's had a few partners, maybe one or two one night stands, but definitely not a ~player~ he knows what he's doin!! very very good at making u feel good. i feel like he's the kind that's hyper aware of what the other person is feeling and is always trying to prioritize them.

f = favorite position - missionary (the jiggle)

g = goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.) - oh my god i think he's so fun during sex! i think he doesn't take it too seriously, but still understands the intimacy of it. like he does not get held up by the little things. likes trying new things and giggling at things with u during sex. ugh. so hot.

h = hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.) - i genuinely think he's a pretty hairy guy and keeps it that way.

i = intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect) - full on sweepin ya off ur feet. knows all the right buttons to press to turn u on, knows exactly what to say, knows how to say them, etc.

j = jack off (masturbation headcanon) - pillow humper.

k = kink (one or more of their kinks) - feel like he loves spanking ya a lil harder than most, like he loves paddles and whips with feathers, etc., and ice.

l = location (favorite places to do the do) - the bed. or shower for hand stuff.

m = motivation (what turns them on, gets them going) - what u wear! loves seeing ur body exposed ofc, but loves when you love what ur wearing, just thinks its such a turn on to have someone comfortable in their own skin and clothes lol

n = no (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs) - i don't think he loves the "please stop" or "no!!" kinda stuff. like if u say no or stop, he gonna stop. doesn't like messin around with that.

o = oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.) - loves receiving :p think he's a whiny mess, especially licking his balls OMG. as far as skill.. he's a munch. gets all slow and sensual with it too.

p = pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.) - somewhere in the middle (with penetration at least), like he's not overly rough, but likes a nice rhythm to it.

q = quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.) - not his fave. might have one in a dressing room backstage to get hyped up but that's about it.

r = risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.) - yes! i think he'd definitely be down to experiment. he'd be a lot more wary of any "painful" stuff but since he loves spanking so much, he'll try them, just super super cautious.

s = stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?) - i'd say he could last a while if he wanted, but gets kinda impatient. can definitely hold it off until u cum first though.

t = toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?) - has absolutely no problem with them whatsoever, just doesn't have a lot himself. likes paddles and whips like i said, but doesn't have a ton of the other kinds of toys. would definitely use one if u wanted. and maybe he's got a pocket pussy somewhere around here.... but honestly prefers his hand.

u = unfair (how much they like to tease) - not a tease imo.

v = volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.) - WHINY WHINY WHINY and grunty .

w = wild card (a random headcanon) - LOVES it when u pull his hair. like literally can't even do it in public or he'll moan.

x = x-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes) - longer than average. kinda veiny.

y = yearning (how high is their sex drive?) - lower than normal ig ? idk i don't have an incredibly high sex drive myself and i see myself a lot in him so maybe that's where im coming from, but probably cums...once every 3 days at least?

z = zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards) - love love loves a good nap right after he cums. like i said, just kinda grabs whatever t-shirt or towel he can find to wipe y'all asap to get to cuddling and napping <3

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saltnsugarbear · 3 months ago

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Beep beep hi

“Yeah?” They say with a hint of teasing to their tone, “And what if I do this?” They say, changing their rhythm slightly and hitting your weak spot. With lip. We both know that man can’t help but be a cocky bastard.

word count: 0.6k

content warnings: SMUT MDNI!!! afab genitalia, fingering (r!receiving),

It was no news that Lip could be cocky. Especially in bed.

He liked to think his experience gave him an edge. Gave him this sort of upper hand when it came to sex. And it kind of did, not that you'd tell him.

Granted that Lip didn't do much sleeping around (it was his other partners you were more worried about) you still refused to properly fuck him until he got tested. Being the prideful son of bitch he was, Lip refused to get tested. Swore up and down there was no need. But you were okay with the options that left you.

Lip was less than okay but didn’t object. Getting you off with his hands or his mouth (after knowing him for over a year, you can confirm he doesn't have chronic cold sores), would have to be enough for now.

And it was. It so was.

You're sure Lip was just as good with his dick, but it's possible you could keep your relationship here and you'd be satisfied. Despite his originally less than open mind, he also seemed okay to fuck you with the toys you had on hand as well. So his knowledge paired with a fake cock was a recipe for a good night for you.

He was also quick to assure you that he didn't expect reciprocation. Lip insisted he was fine with going and rubbing one out in the bathroom or, if you allowed, while kissing you on the bed.

All of this to be said, Lip was still an expert with his fingers. Not that you'd ever say it. But you didn't have to, with the way your body reacted.

Now, Lip hated when you tried to hold back. Hated when you kept your mouth shut in bed. He didn't care if you got a noise complaint from your neighbors, he'd deal with them. Didn't care if Fiona could hear you while she was downstairs drinking her coffee. Whatever the situation, he always wanted to hear you.

That being said, he hated when you did it to spite him. Because then he knows you know and you're being... Well, for lack of a better word you're being a bitch.

"Getting kind of bored here.." You mutter, rutting your hips up. Lip scoffs above you, pinching your clit between his thumb and forefinger.

"Really?" He asks, glancing up from where he can see you sucking him in.

"Yeah," you grunt, thrusting up into his hand when he curls his fingers up against your wall. "Getting fucked by the same fingers every night gets boring. Repetitive."

Lip huffs again. "'S your rule. Could be fuckin' ya proper if y'just let up.."

Now it's your turn to scoff. "Or y'could just- Shit- You could jus' go get tested-"

Lip groans before dropping his head down to your shoulder but you already know he's rolling his eyes. When he lifts his head up to meet your gaze his pace starts to slow.

"S' like you don't even want to fuck me. Like maybe your embarrassed.."

"Nothin' to be embarrassed about, baby," Lip tells you, giving you a small smile.

"Then you should get tested. Don't know if you're gonna be able to get me off like this." Your words are meant to be jabbing but they sound pathetic and pleading.

"Oh yeah?" Lip asks you, almost stopping his movements and making you bite your tongue. All you can do is nod. Holding his gaze defiantly as he lowers his face to yours

"And what if I do this?" He whispers against your lips before he bites at your lower lip. The pace he sets with his fingers makes you gasp sharply before letting out a loud whine. Your hands claw at Lip's forearm, gripping him so tightly he grunts into your mouth.

"Please, please, please, please, please," You babble. The way he's thrusting his fingers into you is blinding, making you squeeze your eyes shut as you arch into him.

"That's what I thought."

#saltnsugarbear #too much salt (18+)#200 grains of salt [ 200 followers celebration ]#lip gallagher x reader #lip gallagher fanfic #lip gallagher imagine #lip gallagher smut #lip gallagher fanfiction #lip gallagher x you #the garden [ mutuals! ]#original babygirl [ olive ]#shameless imagines #shameless fanfiction

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msbigredmachine · 7 months ago

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3 Sluts (Jey Uso)

Jey got two of 'em spittin’ on that thang… 😈💦

Pairings: OC/Jey Uso/OC

Word Count: 1732

Warnings: Threesome, SMUT

Credit to the owners of the pics and gifs.

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

His dark eyes, hazy, fixated and awestruck; his long fingers quivering on the back of her head. The cool outdoor breeze wafted over his saliva-slick length each time it escaped the warmth of her mouth, making him tremble in his spot on the large patio chair overlooking the clear blue waters of the Mediterranean Sea.

“Mmm…yeah, baby, I like that,” he drawled, watching her lather up her spit all over his dick with her hand before slipping him back in her mouth. He felt his body deflate with a low, satisfied moan as she sucked him thoroughly, her acrylic nails scraping his turgid flesh as they worked in rhythm with her warm, tight throat. Main Event Jey Uso was in Paradise, in more ways than one.

“Yeah, Lolo, get that shit.”

The familiar sultry voice prompted Jey to look up, his stare softening from lust to love as his girlfriend, Iris, stepped through the sliding glass door onto the balcony. Wearing a yellow string bikini that complimented her curvy body and brown skin, it was a welcome switch from the seriousness of the power suits she donned at work. Said power also allowed her to whisk him away to the sun-kissed climates of Mykonos on a private jet for some well deserved time off, much of which included getting tag-teamed by her and her best friend London.

Dating the heiress to the world’s most valuable Black-owned sportswear company granted Jey access to many precipices of pleasure around the world, such as the palatial villa the threesome were currently isolated in and had christened multiple times in just a few days. To have two of the most beautiful women he’d ever laid eyes on sharing their bodies with him on the regular was quite the experience, and he loved every second. There was never a dull moment with his fun, sexy freak of a girlfriend and her even bigger freak of a BFF.

“Hey baby,” he greeted her, rolling the breakfast trolley aside so she could squeeze into the chair with him. “That sleep was good, huh? It’s nine in the morning.”

“Y’all can’t blame me, you two knocked me out last night. Woulda slept some more if it wasn’t for all the moaning and cheek-clapping going on here,” she laughed. “The windows are open so I can hear everything.” She bent low to accept his kiss and lovingly stroked London’s hair, smirking at the look of complete bliss on her man’s face thanks to her best friend's magic mouth. “She’s good, ain’t she,” she asked.

London released Jey’s dick long enough to brag, “I ain’t just ‘good’, I’m the fuckin’ best.”

“Um, not as good as me, bitch,” Iris argued playfully, eyeing up her boyfriend through her long lashes as she guided his face back to hers, “Ain’t that right, Daddy?”

Her kisses were the cure for every ailment, Jey had since acknowledged, as he kneaded the soft, plump flesh of her derriere, moaning into her mouth as her tongue circled sensually around his own. At the same time, he felt his dick slide deeper down London’s throat, short-circuiting his senses momentarily. Iris giggled and decided to ease up on him, grabbing the can of whipped cream off the breakfast tray. Spraying a generous amount on a large strawberry, she held it to Jey’s parted lips for a bite. He chewed on it with a happy sigh, making her smile. It was nice to see him relaxed after working so hard for so many months.

“Mmm. Tastes perfect, just like yo sexy ass,” Jey praised, gifting her with a smack on her backside, “Give some to Lo, too,” he instructed.

Iris did as she was told and fed London with another strawberry. London sat up and took a sloppy bite, causing the juice to trickle down her chin, past the column of her neck and between her bare breasts. “Ooh, I made a mess,” she commented, licking her lips and eyeing up her friend with a sly, dark expression. “Help me clean it off, babe?”

Iris looked at her with a wicked grin of her own before leaning over Jey’s prone body to lap up the sweet juice that had dripped down London’s chin. London’s giggles dissolved to soft sighs as Iris used her tongue to trail the rivulet all the way down to the middle of her breasts, angling her head to suck her pierced nipple into her mouth. With a throaty moan, London sat up straighter, cupping Iris’s face and pulling her in for a kiss.

Wrestling fans have described a lot of his recent content as cinema, but to Jey, nothing he did could ever compare to the visual of hot, sexy women making out. It was a joy to watch the two centers of his universe indulge in each other. London moaned with every sweep of Iris’ tongue inside her mouth, his sexy girlfriend taking charge like she always did. Her grip on London’s chin was firm as their kiss deepened and got hotter. When it became too hot and he started to feel left out, he cleared his throat to recapture their attention, prompting the women to pull apart and giggle mischievously.

“Looks like Daddy’s missing us,” London commented, coming closer to press her lips to Jey’s, sharing the joint tastes of strawberry and Iris with him.

“Mm-hmm, sure looks like it,” Iris agreed, sharing a devilish smile with her bestie. “Let’s give him what he wants, shall we?”

Iris slithered down her boyfriend’s muscled body and settled on top of London, the can of whipped cream in her grasp. With her breasts pressed against London’s back, Iris drizzled some whipped cream all over Jey’s dick, from tip to ballsac, smiling when he hissed from the cold dessert against the sensitivity of his groin. London was going in on his balls while Iris wrapped her tongue around his tip, teasing for a few seconds before taking him fully into her mouth. The pleasure was quick to engulf him, his body hypnotized by their warm, eager mouths. He glanced down at his two girls, one on top of the other, his lips parted slightly in a sex-induced stupor as they feasted on his dick and his balls; it was hard to determine whose ministrations he was enjoying more.

“Fuck,” Jey whispered, his body melting into the chair, his hand coming up to cover his eyes. Head from London was already mind-blowing enough, but adding Iris to the mix took it to another stratosphere. His dick had not known peace since they touched down on the island, buried in either one of his girls’ holes at any given time. Not that he was complaining, not at all. He could feel the slow strokes of Iris’ thick lips up and down his dick, marking every inch of his sensitive flesh like a skilled painter working her canvas. Meanwhile, London’s mouth was stuffed with his balls. Her free hand was underneath him squeezing his ass, adding a new layer of sensation that caught him off guard enough to buck his hips suddenly, pushing himself deeper down Iris’ throat which made her gag a little. But she was never one to back down, coming up for air for a split second before going back in. His deep voice rattled with pleasure as he gripped her hair, desperately holding on as he lost himself to the wetness of their mouths and their sensual moans and sexy slobbers, intensifying the heat swirling in the pit of his stomach.

Handing the reins back to London, Iris returned to Jey’s side and caressed his sun-bronzed abs, watching his eyes roll to the back of his head with a smirk. He was getting closer, she could tell from his breaths, shallow and erratic, his handsome features scrunched in painful pleasure as she and London drove him crazy.

“Unnh, I’m gonna fuckin’ come,” he groaned, moaning again when Iris nibbled on the side of his neck, pinching with her teeth.

“Mmm, look at me, Daddy, you look so fuckin’ hot when you’re about to nut,” she cooed, rubbing her hand up and down his tattooed torso as he managed to drag his gaze to hers. She leaned down and kissed him, using her tongue to play with his mouth. In her peripheral vision she could see London cranking it up, her head and hands rotating ominously around his dick. “You gon’ fill up her mouth with your cum, baby? Cuz she’s been such a good little slut for you?”

Too wound up to speak, he could only nod his head with wide, glazed-over eyes. Iris plucked his nipple between her fingers, stimulating him some more. Her mouth and tongue loved all over the side of his throat, combining lethally with London’s deep throat soon plummeting him into that familiar abyss of ecstasy.

“Oh shit, shit, fuck!” Jey moaned, tossing his head back as the powerful orgasm crashed over him. His entire body jerked as his cum shot out and landed all over London’s chin and lips. The more she jerked him off, the harder he came in mesmerizing waves. The creamy, white nut covered his dick and trickled down to his balls and London left none of it behind. He struggled to gather his breath, exhaling shakily as she ran her tongue all over his still-sensitive length with a sultry giggle.

“Good boy,” Iris praised him, running her fingers through his hair and kissing his temple.

“Damn, y’all gon’ be the death of me,” Jey breathed, staring up adoringly at his girlfriend.

After London had licked him clean, she stood up and adjusted her bikini top. “Well, this was fun. But it’s gettin’ kinda hot. Wanna take the party inside?”

“You sure?” Iris asked, as London rounded the chair, kissed both her lovers on the mouth and helped them to their feet. “Yeah. We not doin' nothin' all day,” she reminded them, “I don’t mind just layin’ back and watching y’all. You two are so hot together.”

“Now where’s the fun in that?” said Jey, throwing one arm around Iris and the other around London as they stepped back inside the villa. “When we get upstairs, gimme ten minutes to recharge. Then Lolo, you gon sit’ on my face. Baby, you ridin’ my dick. I wanna see that ass bounce on me…”

THE END

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

Random drabble, I know, lol. Thoughts?

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#jey uso #jey uso fanfiction #jey uso fanfic #jey uso smut #jey uso x reader #jey uso imagines #jey uso x black oc #main event jey uso #wwe fanfiction

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kingtomura · 1 month ago

Text

Vitality | 6

Summary: You were always told heroes and villains had no place in your home. Not when there’s an increase in crime, not when there’s monsters on the loose in Hosu and certainly not when the man in your home raises a hand to you. All it takes is one impulsive decision to change your life forever. content: shigaraki tomura x female reader, slow burn, hurt/comfort, mutual pining, reader has a quirk, graphic depictions of violence, past abuse, past sa, angst, pstd, eventual smut, dark themes, found family LoV, mdni wc: 6.2k | prev | chapter 7 | m. list | read on ao3

Three.

That’s how many people died on the mission with Dabi. Three people lost their lives because they challenged the League of Villains and they paid for it.

But the worst part of all is not the fact that your nose still holds the putrid smell of charred flesh, it’s not even that this trip has given you more insight on the Cremation Villain himself.

No, the worst part of it all is that you feel stronger.

You feel as though you could take on anything — like you finally had a chance to take your power back.

Dabi was right when he said it’s you or them.

That phrase had been thrown at you over and over again in the past by your father and only now had it clicked in your mind.

You were finally in a space to do something about it.

And you had support.

Dabi may not be the friendliest of the League, but you know now that there is more than meets the eye when it comes to the distant villain.

So instead of a baseless fear, there is a newfound respect for the man, and it stays with you even through his snarky remarks and flippant exits from the base.

Those same thoughts are expressed in the mission recap you give to Shigaraki.

You’ve both found yourselves back into the rhythm of the roof. A quiet pocket away from the world.

“But there were three of them, and the one with the illusion quirk — I’ve never seen anything like it.” You go on, words falling from your tongue as you recall the recent experience. The blaze of Dabi’s flames left phantom tingles in your fingers and you bring a hand up to gaze at it.

Shigaraki is quiet as he listens on, taking a sip from his fizzy drink.

(Toga swore she couldn't find his usual sugar filled soda and now he’s stuck with a rosy pink drink and not nearly enough caffeine.)

There's a warmth that spreads throughout your chest as you bring your hand back down.

You missed it out here, even if the mission had only been a few days long.

“So,” Shigaraki’s low voice starts, capturing your attention at once, “there were no problems?”

“Hm,” you look to the night sky and then back to your hand, memories flooding your mind as your shoulders drag a slow shrug, “not entirely. Things got a little tense at one point when they got me, though.”

“Got you?” He echoes, surprise in his voice so slight it goes unnoticed.

You continue on, “Yeah, I thought it was over for me. The illusion quirk was trickier than I anticipated and the paralysis quirk was dangerous.”

Shigaraki brings a hand to his neck, the light scratching raising no alarms as you think back to your trip, almost excited to tell him how you finally stood up for yourself and did something about your situation.

“But the paralysis only worked because he touched me, and—“

“Someone touched you?” His tone held a tension so tight it made your words stall.

“Yeah, but Dabi, he—”

“Why were you on the front lines?” Shigaraki cuts you off, voice as sharp as the nails that rake across his neck.

The hairs on the back of your neck stand up, and you quickly find yourself slipping into dangerous territory, unsure if your next answer would be one to put you on the chopping block.

There’s a pit in your stomach beginning to form as you wet your lips.

This anxiety, it’s all too close to home.

You try to still your thoughts and answer in a way that would salvage this situation, “Well, it was because of Dabi, but he saved me—!”

Shigaraki doesn’t want to hear it.

“He could have gotten you killed.”

Or worse, your breath hitches at the thought. It hangs in your mind, trailing behind his words.

Yes, you could have been killed but the reality is much, much worse.

But you can’t bring yourself to say it.

Not aloud.

Not to Shigaraki.

“Reckless,” he mutters, more so to himself than to you, “we don’t need to take risks like that so soon.”

His rambles fade into the night as your mind races at what could have been, the light touches and mocking jeers pulling your attention from reality.

Shigaraki’s next words are the only thing to pull you back to shore.

“No more missions.”

Your eyes snap to him. “What?”

“It’s too much of a liability. We need a healer here, at the base — alive.”

You stare at him, dumbfounded that your leader has, in so many words, grounded you.

“But, Shigaraki—” You go to complain but he’s heard enough.

Your leader stands and makes his way to the exit without another word, nails still biting at the skin of his neck and effectively leaving you to sit in the somber company of the whistling wind and city lights.

————————

For hours on end it’s been a constant stream of punches, kicks and newly formed bruises on skin.

“You have to hit harder!” Toga calls out to you as her clone gears up to strike at you once more.

You groan as your fists come up again, dragging with the weight of your exhaustion as her doppelganger licks fresh blood from her knife. She hasn’t backed down once and shows no signs of slowing up.

There’s nothing more you can do but brace yourself and plant your feet. Even though you were tired, you would be damned if she got the chance to call you out on it. So instead, you put on a brave face and prepare.

The clone jumps with a speed that rivals the real thing and knocks into you with enough force to send you tumbling to the ground.

You go down with a yell and channel your energy into coming out on top of her.

With a bit of force and a lot of focus you manage to do it. Toga’s clone is restrained below you, her soft face clinched in pain as you pin her arm behind her back.

“Yes, good job, little bird!” Toga calls from her perch, “Now finish it.”

The knife her clone once held has fallen to the ground out of her reach, but well within yours. It should be no problem taking her out.

Finish it.

No big deal.

The clone struggles beneath you as your breathing grows heavier, feeling the weight of Toga’s gaze as it pierces your back and makes you sweat.

“C’mon! End it and we can be done for the day.”

There was nothing you wanted more than to be done for the day so you could head back to your room to decompress from this relentless training.

But…

You hesitate.

It may have been easy to come out on top with the man from the mission, but this was different.

Clone or not, it’s too much like her, and Himiko has done nothing but support you.

Her clone looks back at you, and you drop your gaze.

You just can’t do it.

Your eyes close as you hear Toga’s faint steps along the grass. She finishes the job without a second thought and her doppelganger turns to muck beneath you.

The substance it was made of clings to your bare knees and palms.

“What happened?” She questions, standing over your kneeled form and casting a shadow over you and your doubts.

The clone substance begins to evaporate while your eyes focus on her sleek school shoes that probably haven’t stepped inside an actual school in years.

“I... I don’t know.”

“You were able to help Dabi on the mission, weren't you?” Even though you can’t see her face, you can feel her concerned expression from the tone alone. “You’ve taken someone down before.”

“That was different. This one,” you pause, cautious of your next words. “She looks too much like you.”

Silence stretches between you both, loud and uncomfortable as it fills the forest fields with nothing but your awkward vulnerability and her heavy expectations.

One fact remains the same.

You are not a villain yet.

You realize there won’t be a response as the quiet drags. So, out of words and tired, you sigh and flop onto your back. The soft brush of the green grass molds beneath your body as you relax, your exhausted gaze finding the deep blue hue of the sky above.

There's not many clouds out today.

You hear Toga’s steps above where your head rests as she follows suit to lie down nearby, a calm sigh leaving her lips in the process.

Curiously, you turn your head to the side and take in her relaxed features — her golden eyes closed and cheeks dusted pink as she basks in the sun.

“Just you wait, little bird,” she coos, catching your attention with a smile spread across her lips.

“Hm?”

“You’ll be free to do whatever you want, you know?” She starts with a yawn and you wonder if she’ll end up napping out here, “Tomura will make sure of that.”

Your eyes wander back to the sky.

She speaks as if she believes it with her whole heart, and expects you to believe too.

Your eyes catch an airplane cutting through the infinite blue now, leaving its own trail of clouds behind and you watch it fly with placid interest.

Free, huh…

————————

He shouldn’t care.

He shouldn’t care and he doesn't care so why was this entire ordeal making his skin itch?

Tomura paces the space of his messy room as the prickly scratching habit makes itself known once more.

He can’t keep doing this. He can’t keep losing his temper around you.

Had recent events taught him nothing? He was supposed to be in charge, damn it.

What would sensei say?

Tomura scoffs at himself. It would probably be something along the lines of, “a mission’s success is more important than the losses taken,” and lucky for Tomura, there were no losses.

But there could have been.

Frustrated, Tomura crashes into his computer chair in a heap as he brings the machine to life.

He’s quick to pull up a search tab and make sure the various seeds placed for his future endeavors remain planted.

There is a goal to accomplish, a bigger picture and he can’t spend more time than necessary on something as simple as unmanaged feelings.

No, Tomura needed to grow. Sensei tried to make him aware of that.

Tomura closes one tab and opens another, typing your name into the search bar and taking note of the results.

Your articles are dwindling.

Good.

The sooner that false story leaves the eye of the public, the easier it will be for you to move on.

The sooner you move on, the sooner you’ll be able to reach your full potential.

The sooner you can do that… the sooner Tomura can stop wasting his precious time on you and your striking familiarity.

It's beginning to drive him mad.

Tomura is a leader, but he has no time to play therapist to those with troubled pasts. If that were the case he would have a private venting session with all of his League members.

He wants everyone to flourish and stand on their own. The operation just works better that way.

But…

That’s easier said than done.

Tomura leans back in his desk chair and takes a breath.

Dabi finished the job as intended, which means there's no one for him to take this rising frustration out on, and he’s become too high profile for his usual walks.

The roof was a compromise of sorts. Somewhere he could get fresh air without putting himself at obvious risk, but now—

Damn it, his thoughts cycle back — they always seem to cycle back — to the mystery that you are.

Tomura taps a finger on the desk as his thoughts run rampant.

No, he can’t let himself be blinded by curiosity. Especially not if it's going to interfere with his temper. He has to stay focused.

This isn't only about him now.

There’s a bigger picture to be revealed.

He has to take down All Might.

He has to focus.

Tomura closes the remaining tabs on his computer and shuts the system down.

The last of the lingering light in his room comes from his desk lap and it shines down on a lone scrap of paper resting on his desk.

It’s a polaroid.

One of a blond boy, locked in chains and muzzled like an animal.

The photo catches his eye and Tomura feels the puzzle pieces of the world snap back into place.

His rampant thoughts cease.

Yes, it’s best for everyone to find their place here, to flourish and stand on their own.

The mission before was just a precursor for what he had planned, and with a few more preparations the League could make their next move.

His sparse brows lift in amusement as he remembers how close his next goal is to fruition.

This was it.

With careful fingers he picks up the photo, a wicked smile dancing onto his features as his mind regains its much needed clarity.

In the League anyone could become what they want to be, and Tomura would be the one to ensure that.

————————

Everything feels humid.

It feels oppressive and stuffy and you can’t breathe.

Your lips purse as you try to break free of the spell that bound you. There’s no way to know when or how, but you were trapped.

Your eyes are open, but you can’t see.

The noises you try to make from your mouth don’t come out, sending you further into a panic. Your limbs try to hit at anything, but feel submerged in jello. There was no way out of this and you couldn’t shake the sinking feeling that if you didn’t do something soon you’d surely suffocate.

The sounds of muffled laughs and deep voices plague your ears as the unwanted feel of feather light touches dance along your skin.

Those touches soon turn harsh — hungry and biting for more of you than you could ever hope to give.

Your head starts to spin with the overload of feelings, your mind racing as you continue to fight against this assault.

You wake with a scream.

Out of breath and panting, you grip your cotton shirt, looking around your dark room for any signs of intruders.

There's no one there with you. The area is still and silent, the only noise to keep you company is the loud ringing in your ears as you try to make sense of what you know realize was a nightmare.

It’s the dead of night according to the clock on your nightstand.

Reaching over, you turn on the lamp, it’s dull light doing little to illuminate the space. You make due with it for now, though — thankful as it chases away the rest of the fog from your mind.

You feel shaken and outside yourself as your eyes dart around the room, your mind wanting to ensure that you are alone to bear the burden of bad dreams.

You are, and it was just a dream.

This mantra plays on repeat in your mind as you bury yourself beneath the blankets and try to go back to sleep.

But it’s no use.

Every time you close your eyes that sickening feeling claws its way back into your mind, haunting you like a lingering ghost.

The more you try to close your eyes and forget, the more unsettled you feel.

After countless minutes of tossing and turning bring you no comfort, you give up altogether and sit up, facing the night head on.

You can’t go back to sleep like this.

Any other night you would take this as an opportunity to find peace on the roof.

Your hands clench the plush of your blanket, pushing those thoughts away. You haven't been to the roof since that night, and maybe it was better that way.

Staying out of Shigaraki’s way feels more comfortable and making yourself small feels familiar.

So, rubbing the fast fading sleep from your eyes, you examine the contents of your room, scanning over the growing number of books on your bookshelf to the papers tossed haphazardly across your desk.

You pause.

There, sitting atop the desk, is the black gaming system Shigaraki gave you.

It hadn’t moved an inch since he gifted it to you that night.

But it wasn’t from lack of interest.

Ever since your conversation with Shigaraki on the roof, the training you had been doing with Toga had tripled to the point where your body ached from the extensive exercise.

You knew it had been Shigaraki’s doing, but your body was too exhausted to find him and complain about it afterwards.

Your body was too tired for anything afterwards, even disruptive dreams were rare on those nights. The only thing on your mind had been the ache of your muscles and the warm bath that would follow your rigorous routine.

You hadn’t dreamt at all.

The relief of retreating to your welcoming bed was too strong.

But now that’s changed.

Toga has left for a mission and you’ve found yourself with more free time on your hands than you would like to admit.

So, as phantom hands and lingering leers cling to your mind, you stand on shaky legs and reach your desk.

It’s cold, you note as your fingers brush over the scratched device, picking it up and searching for the power button. Some part of you doubted it held a charge after how long it's been sitting, but the bright white light of the screen startles you as it turns on, its cheerful chime loud in the silence of your bedroom.

There’s already a game inside.

A silly humanoid cat creature with a blue cap pops up on screen and you take a seat back on your bed.

It’s a colorful sidescroller that's not too difficult to get the hang of.

Getting lost in the game feels easy as you lie back and continue to mash buttons and beat the levels.

It’s… cute.

And distracting.

So distracting that you don’t even realize you’d fallen asleep until your eyes flutter open the next morning.

Days go by and the game has captured your attention more and more.

Toga is still away, and with her absence comes a lull in your tasks. You haven't completely put off training, but the break feels nice. Being strictly a healer comes naturally to you, and beyond that there isn’t much else for you to do.

The bar upstairs has been a more welcoming area. With its more lively crowd, you have a little more fun being around others instead of your secluded bedroom.

Shigaraki is in his usual place, slouching on a stool at the far end of the bar, while Kurogiri slides you another glass of the fizzy clear soda you swear you’re not becoming addicted to.

And you’ve brought the console with you.

Level after level, you soak in its bright colors, the semi-difficult puzzles and all around fun of the game.

Until you reach level nineteen.

You’ve been at it for hours, but the result is the same. Run, jump, kick and fall. Your character falls deep into the digital abyss and you’re stuck looking on as he respawns and bounces idly in place.

“God damn it.” You curse under your breath as your character dies for the fifth time in a row. You’re left to huff a sigh as you place the system down on the counter and glare at the empty glass of soda before you.

The game is fun, until it’s not.

You halfheartedly wonder if all games were this way as Kurogiri notices your frustrations and quietly refills your glass.

With a quick nod of thanks to the apparition you take the glass, downing the drink and sending your frustrations with it as you come back to reality.

A quick scan around the bar shows you that there aren’t many people in today, but that’s okay. Sometimes it's nice to just not be alone. And when there’s one too many members present things get… loud.

Your gaze lands back on the game, wearily debating if you should ask your leader for help with it — he gave you the damned thing after all — but you pause.

Shigaraki is quiet as he flips through a newspaper, completely unbothered by commotion beyond his readings.

You haven’t spoken since that night, you’ve barely even seen him.

Your brows furrow as those familiar anxieties begin to rear its ugly head yet again.

At home you would know if your father had a problem with you. The silent treatment only lasted so long before he would—

No.

You weren’t home anymore. There was nothing coming to get you or hurt you. You take a breath and turn towards your leader.

“Hey, Shigaraki,” it’s hard to be certain from the hand covering his face, but you believe he hears you, “Could you, maybe, help me out with this level? I can’t get past it.”

You try to stop the small tremble as you hold the small console out to him, half expecting him to completely ignore you like he ignores the racket around him.

But he doesn’t.

Shigaraki turns his head, eyeing the game and then looking back at you.

He reaches out, taking the system. His gentle touch surprises you as his careful fingers grip the system with a care only years of mandatory practice could cultivate. Those dangerous hands were free from the confids of his partial gloves, and you suspect that he prefers it that way.

They’re weapons and with his lifestyle it’s best to be ready for anything.

(You will yourself not to think of the implications your rooftop nights have — the nights where he is gloved and unguarded.)

It takes him no time to sink into the game, a soft tsk as he seems to find exactly where you went wrong.

“Here,” he hands it back to you, mindful not to brush his fingers against yours. “There was a platform above the hole. You had to jump at a certain angle to see it.”

The character on the screen cheers as he completes the level, but you remain stuck in place, unsure what to say besides a muttered thank you.

Somewhere inside you almost wish you had more to say.

Nightfall comes and the other members begin to clear out, but Shigaraki remains.

You debate retiring to your chambers as well, silently dreading the gray walls that await you.

The faint sounds of glass clinking meets your ears as Kurogiri puts cups away, fully absorbed in his task of shutting down the bar.

You move to stand, knowing you were better off heading to your room than the roof, better off heading to bed where your nightmares will undoubtedly chase you awake once more.

But…

No, you shake the thoughts from your mind.

You have the game. It shouldn't be a problem to play until you fall asleep.

The chill is the first thing to greet you as you open the door to your bedroom.

The silence is next.

A sigh leaves you as you make your way over to the bed, tossing the game onto your bedside table and allowing yourself to fall into the sheets.

No matter how much you try and fight the feelings they just won't go away.

You can’t deny it.

You miss the roof.

And even more, you miss gazing out at the city and you miss not being alone.

Silent nights with Shigaraki were… nice. Peaceful. The most peace you had gotten in a long time.

It takes a moment but you sit up, knowing sleep wouldn’t find you anytime soon.

Even if your leader wasn’t on the roof tonight, you could at least get some fresh air. It’s an easy option, you convince yourself as you grab the extra blanket Kurogiri gave you during your first week here.

You push down the worry clouding your mind and leave the desolate place you call your bedroom.

There’s an almost giddy feeling rising within your chest as you make it to the secluded space. A feeling that makes you feel like you’ve discovered a grand secret and it was yours and yours alone to keep.

For some reason you didn’t think Shigaraki would be there. You’d convinced yourself that maybe he felt the same way you did, too preoccupied with the sour note the night had been left off on and fully crossed out the roof as his hiding place.

But, no.

He’s sat in his usual spot, sipping his usual energy drink and looking out at the night sky,

Your steps are light as you slowly make your way over, gentle as if he would make a dash for the exit and leave at any slight sound.

But he doesn’t.

No, Shigaraki sits there, hand no longer obscuring his face. He’s so still you almost think he hasn’t even noticed you.

A naive thought.

Your leader seems more aware of his surroundings than the average villain.

Your steps stop just before you reach him, but his gaze remains fixed on the city lights.

“I brought you something,” your voice is soft, uncertain as you watch him take another sip of his drink. You knew the silence would last forever if you hadn’t broken it first. And it's not a lie, technically. It can be for the both of you.

Finally, he turns to you, eyeing the blanket in your hands.

“I thought it would be nice to have something to sit on.” You fight to keep your words from catching in your throat, but it’s hard. His piercing red gaze does nothing to soothe you and his lack of words makes your anxieties heighten.

“Are you stuck on another level?” His voice breaks through the tension and your shoulders begin to relax.

If he seems bothered by your presence he doesn't show it.

“No, I—” you pause, debating your next words — things feel so fragile right now. “I just wanted to come out here again.”

The wind whistles, carrying the strain of your worries on its back as you watch your leader.

“It’s been a while.” You continue, watching Shigaraki’s ashen hair blow in the soft wind.

“You’re free to do what you want, you know,” he says between another sip. “You don’t need permission.”

“Right.” You mumble, eyes cast down at the cemented roof he sits on, “stand up for a second.”

Shigaraki watches you, but does as he’s told, giving you an opportunity to spread the blanket below and it's an honest improvement to the space.

The quiet that spreads between you is more familiar. More comforting.

It lets you fall into the ambiance of slow cars and the calm city, the open air of the outside being just what you need to calm your mind and relax. You feel more confident in the unfiltered space, away from those gray, claustrophobic four walls of your bedroom.

“I wouldn’t mind some tips, if you had any,” you start, stopping that train of thought and pulling out the gaming system. The chime of the start screen fills the air and you bite back a smile.

He watches, the residual light from the screen shining against his face, making those ruby eyes shine brighter. “I might.”

You take the initiative and scoot closer to him, feeling a childish elation at the idea of learning something new about your borrowed game.

Shigaraki doesn’t stop you, but he makes no attempt to move closer, only reaching for the device and starting a new level.

“Here,” he tilts the screen, allowing you a better view as his character runs towards a wall. The faint smell of fresh linen meets your nose, it's soft against his well worn black hoodie. You try to ignore it, knowing your mind would wander but the proximity forces you to take note.

You never thought Shigaraki would smell bad, per se, but you didn’t think it would be noticeably nice.

Cozy, even.

“And if you do that right…” he continues, pulling your attention back to the tutorial at hand, “you should get… this.”

A box appears above the character and he jumps, claiming three extra lives and you would be impressed if you weren’t trying too hard not to show how distracted you were.

“O-oh! That’s cool.” Your hand finds the hem of your shirt, nervously picking at the seams as you watch on. Shigaraki wasn’t quite done showing you the tricks of the game and you wordlessly thank the stars for the distraction.

This time, he leans over giving you a much better view of the game as his fingers press the controller buttons rapidly. “If you time it just right you can do…” his words trail off as the character makes contact with an enemy, making it disappear while gaining a power up. “This.”

The character jumps, its new and boosted form reaches higher than he could have without and meets the finish line. Shigaraki wins.

“Whoa.” You breathe and in any other case you would try to say more, show more enthusiasm, but you can’t ignore the soft scent of oatmeal and cinnamon. Shigaraki smells… warm.

“It gets easier when you know where to look.” He finishes the demonstration and there's no chance you’ll be able to replicate his tutorials.

So you nod, hoping that the night sky will hide the growing flush in your cheeks.

Childish. Stupid.

You try to shake off the sprouting feelings.

It’s probably just your mind playing tricks on you, anyway. An act of kindness that sends your brain haywire.

“I didn’t think games like this were your type.” The words fall from your lips before you realize.

Shigaraki raises a sparse brow, more curious than irritated. “What games do you think are my type?”

“Hm,” you pause, stopping to really ponder what may or may not be Shigaraki’s type, “I’m not sure. To be honest, I didn’t think I would like this game as much as I do, to be honest.”

“You’ve never played anything like this?”

Your smile is somber as it bites the bitter taste of your past. “No, my father had me on a pretty tight leash. I didn’t play much of anything. There was one game I really wanted though. Um, I think it was pocket monsters?”

“You’ve never played pocket monsters?” Shigaraki’s tone is usually even, but even he can’t hide the genuine surprise.

You spit a laugh. “No, he saw that they battled or whatever and shut any dream of that down. Its,” your voice fades as you face the reality of your past, “Kind of depressing, really.”

Shigaraki stays quiet, watching the way you sigh. You wonder if he were looking through you, peering right into your mind and uncovering all of your dirty, disgusting past.

If he were able to see all of that — to see all of you — what would he say?

After a moment he turns away, seemingly having gotten his fill of your damaged disposition and bringing his attention back to the sky above.

“You would probably be a water type trainer.” He says suddenly, catching your attention.

“Hm? What makes you say that.”

He shrugs, a lazy half lift of his shoulders. “It just fits you.”

“Yeah?” Your eyes are caught on his fingers, the way those hazardous hands grip the console, careful not to hold it in a way that would harm it. Forever cautious that those hands would make it disintegrate into a pale dust and then nothingness, doomed to ashes as it would blow away.

You can’t imagine how stressful a quirk like that would have been to grow up with.

“You would be a ghost type trainer.”

“Oh?”

“Mhm,” You nod, eyes cutting away from his hands as you try to stomp down the sheepish feelings rising in your chest. “It’s in your name.”

Mourning.

The words go unspoken, hanging in the air between you. It hangs heavy and you want to continue, need to continue.

You think of your leader and his growing gang of misfits, you think of the way there were no questions asked when taking you in and his previous words of encouragement.

Tomura Shigaraki may be a dangerous villain, but he’s shown you more consideration than the person who was supposed to raise you.

“You seem like the type… to see the beauty in abandoned things.” You fight through the nerves and speak your mind, unwilling to back down with how far you've gone. “Things that may have been forgotten, or lost…”

Himiko’s words echo in your mind, then Dabi and his hardened expression.

“... Things without a home.”

The silence stretches for a long time, you almost worry that you’ve said something wrong, but you can't help but feel a little happy to have gotten that out of your mind.

You pick up the conversation again.

“You know, talking about games with you, I,” your eyes meet the blanket below, your digits picking at the hem of it. “I feel like I've missed out on a lot.”

Countless nights of telling your friends you can’t meet them at the movies, can’t go with them to stay-away camp, can’t do anything.

The only thing you can do is wait and watch your life pass you by in a prison dressed up as a broken home.

“Do you ever feel this way?” The words slip out before you're able to catch them, the ache of connection too desperate to stay hidden inside.

You don’t know much about Shigaraki, but you know that his upbringing must have been unusual if he’s turned out this way. Yet he’s here, trying to fight against what he believes is injustice. There has to be something that drives him to keep standing.

The quiet stretches and you’re about ready to change the topic and pretend you hadn’t asked anything.

“Sometimes.”

Your head turns to him, surprised.

He gives his half shrug again. “But there’s no point in sitting in something that can’t change. The past is the past. Carve your own future.”

You bring your knees to your chest desperately trying to fight off the familiar burn of tears in your eyes. Once you would start, it would only be downhill from there.

“I just want to be normal.”

“Normal is subjective.”

“Yeah, well, tell that to society.” The words are bitter and they leave a sour taste on your tongue, knowing there is no way to live a life where you are just like anyone else.

To be someone who’s had the comfort and privilege of growing up in a healthy, stable life.

To live in a world where you could only read the articles about some home invasion in another city and gasp in disbelief that something like that could ever happen.

In this fantasy world, you would shake your head in disappointment, make some comment about society going downhill and show the story to a friend for validation. Then you would close the page and move on with your day, forever forgetting about travesty because situations like that don’t happen to normal people.

But that isn't how things work.

Not for you. Never for you.

“You should take that feeling and hold it close.”

Your brows furrow as you turn to him, your impending spiral screeching to a halt.

“Foster it and let it grow.” Shigaraki continues, handing his gaming system back to you with such careful hands. So, so delicate and gentle, unable to even risk a brush of your fingers. Somehow, this feels even closer than if he had touched you. “Why should they go on about their lives while you suffer?”

His voice is soft.

It's tender, as if you were fragile enough to break with words alone. Your heart thumps against the cage of your chest as you hold the game tight, bringing it close and allowing it to anchor you. This conversation feels familiar, like the one you shared in your first days here.

Shigaraki gives a slow half smile and those warm feelings inside of you grow, spreading to your cheeks and ears while you hang on to each word, “you deserve to show the world your feelings.”

You gasp and meet his eyes, entranced as he breathes a new light into you with those words.

You see the beauty in abandoned things.

It's true.

But you never thought he’d see it in you.

A familiar roll of thunder drags you form your stupor, eyes transfixed on the gleam in his eyes and budding feelings within.

“Sounds like it’ll rain soon.” His voice breaks through, and he’s already rising from his place on the blanket.

You nod a tad more enthusiastically than you should and hurry to gather the cover, flushing deeper as you notice he’s glued to his spot.

He’s waiting for you.

Your feet patter against the concrete of the roof as you nearly skip over to him, the smallest drops of rain meeting your cheeks. Your mind races as you gather two important things from tonight:

Tomura Shigaraki is an interesting guy.

And you are a curious cat.

#shigaraki x reader #shigaraki tomura x reader #tomura x reader #shigaraki x you #tomura shigaraki x reader #mha x reader #my works #tomura shigaraki x you

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wchswift · 1 month ago

Text

ଓ CABIN NIGHTS

pairing: dean winchester x fem!reader

summary: to celebrate your first birthday with dean as a couple, you plan an romantic and quiet cabin getaway.

word count: 1.4k

notes: I'm actually pretty nervous about this because I don't know if I liked it... but since it's the love of my life birthday I had to post it anyway.

── english isn't my first language :)

You had known Dean for nearly six years, a connection that had blossomed in the most unexpected of circumstances. It all started when you met the Winchesters through Bobby during a hell of a hunt, where you were almost killed. Ever since, they have always been a part of your life, just as you have been a part of theirs.

You’ve been through a lot together, but your bond with Dean was particularly special; it was electrifying, charged with a chemistry that seemed almost tangible. While Dean had a well-earned reputation for charming women with his easy smile and quick wit, the interactions you shared always felt distinctly different. There was an unspoken understanding between you, a sense of completing each other; you were alike in so many ways, you were like the same person in different fonts, intertwining in ways that felt both natural and exhilarating. Over the years, through hunts, heartbreaks, and near-death experiences, the bond between you only grew stronger.

After countless ups and downs—shared glances filled with unexpressed feelings, and being there for each other in the most unimaginable moments— everything shifted. Nearly a year ago, you both decided to take a leap of faith, surrendering to that undeniable connection and be together for real. It was the best decision of your life, actually.

Now, one of the most anticipated moments for you was finally here—Dean's birthday. After knowing him for six years, this would be the first birthday you would celebrate as a couple, and it felt like a significant milestone.

Well, to be fair, Dean never exactly celebrated birthdays.

In the past, birthdays had been overlooked amid the chaos of hunts, danger, and the never-ending weight of saving the world. It was rare for there to be a moment of peace, let alone a celebration. However, this year was different, this time things were surprisingly calm for once, and you were determined to make his day special.

So, you meticulously planned every detail, wanting to create a day that Dean would cherish. He never had the kind of birthday he truly deserved, and you were determined to make it unforgettable, ensuring that he would feel appreciated and celebrated. He deserved that much—and so much more.

That's why, after talking with Sam and asking him to take care of a recent hunt, you decided to plan a special trip to a beautiful, secluded cabin nestled deep in the woods, just for the two of you.

"Ramble On" played softly on the radio. Since it was his day, it was only fair that he got to choose all the songs for the trip. This also kept him from constantly asking where you were going. To be honest, it wasn't entirely effective, but it was enough to spare you from a nagging headache during the drive.

You stole a glance at Dean from the passenger seat of the Impala, your eyes tracing the outline of his profile as the golden rays of the setting sun illuminated his features. The sunlight painted him in warm hues, casting soft, flickering shadows over his rugged face. His hand rested casually on the steering wheel, fingers drumming lightly to the rhythm of the song, a habit of his that hinted at his playful nature. The low, steady hum of the engine blended with the calming music, creating an atmosphere of tranquility as the world outside rushed by, a blur of fleeting colors and shapes in the twilight.

After several minutes wrapped in the warmth of comfortable silence, Dean finally broke the spell with a teasing glint in his eye. He turned to you, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Alright,” he began, his voice laced with amusement as he cast a sidelong glance in your direction, “sweetheart, are you ever going to tell me where we’re going, or should I just keep driving until we reach the edge of the Earth?”

You let out a soft chuckle, enjoying his curiosity. “I told you, Winchester,” you replied, a hint of excitement bubbling in your voice. “It’s a birthday surprise! That’s why I insisted on driving—so you wouldn’t keep bugging me about it.”

He rolled his eyes dramatically at you, feigning annoyance but unable to hide the small smile playing on his lips.

A grin tugged at your lips. “Come on, hot stuff. Don’t you trust me?” you teased, your tone light and inviting.

"You’re lucky I think you’re sexy when you’re all mysterious like that,” he shot back, the smirk growing wider as he glanced at you, clearly charmed by your enigmatic nature.

You felt a flutter in your chest as you bit your lip, a soft giggle escaping your lips at the energy between you that crackled with lighthearted flirtation.

The drive stretched on, the trees growing taller and denser until the road opened to a secluded clearing. Nestled among the towering pines was a small cabin, warm light spilling from the windows and smoke curling lazily from the chimney. String lights framed the porch, giving the place an almost magical glow.

Dean parked the Impala and stepped out, his eyes scanning the scene. He let out a low whistle. “You did all this?”

You leaned against the car, trying to look casual despite your excitement. “Well, it's not as much as I think you deserve, but I figured you'd like it. It’s your birthday, Dean. You deserve it and more.”

He stood there for a moment, as if trying to take it all in, then turned to you with a look you couldn’t quite place—soft, maybe even vulnerable. “You didn’t have to do this, you know.”

You pushed off the car and closed the distance between you, resting a hand on his chest. “I wanted to. You should have a good day, especially on your birthday, Dean. For once, let me do this for you.”

Inside, the cabin was cozy and inviting, the kind of place that felt like it belonged in a dream. After you settled in and looked around, you lit the fire. The flames crackled in the stone fireplace, casting a warm golden light over the room. The table was set for two, with plates, a bottle of whiskey, and a pie you’d spent way too long perfecting.

"There's also a cake waiting in the fridge, but I know you prefer pie, so I made both just for tradition," you couldn't help but smile, knowing how much he would appreciate the effort you put in.

As he looked at you, his eyes sparkled with a mixture of surprise and genuine affection, as if he couldn't quite believe he was sharing this moment with you. A smile spread across his face, illuminating the room with its warmth.

"Sweetheart, you’re so fucking amazing," he said softly, almost reverently, as he pulled you into his arms, enveloping you in a hug that felt safe and full of love.

Dinner passed in a blur of laughter, playful banter, stolen kisses, and quiet moments where your eyes lingered on each other just a little too long. By the time you were curled up together on the couch, the pie tin empty, the cake half eaten and the whiskey bottle halfway gone, the mood had shifted into something softer, more intimate.

Dean had his arm around you, his fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns on your shoulder. You leaned into his warmth, savoring the moment.

“What did you wish for?” you practically whispered, looking up at him.

He hesitated, his green eyes searching yours before he spoke. “You. To never let you go.”

Your breath caught, and your chest tightened with emotion. “Dean…”

“I mean it,” he said, his voice low and raw. “You’re… You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I don’t think I’ve ever had anything like this before—someone like you.”

You tilted your head up and kissed him, slow and tender, pouring every ounce of love you felt into that moment.

When you pulled back, you smiled. “You know, maybe you're the best thing that ever happened to me too... So, good thing you’ve got me, then. Forever, if you want.”

“Forever sounds just about right,” he murmured, pulling you closer.

As the fire crackled and the stars twinkled outside the cabin window, you knew this was a birthday neither of you would ever forget. And you were so happy about it.

𖤐 reblogs and feedback are appreciated! requests are also welcome, ty!

taglist: @lyarr24 @chevroletdean @foolinthera1n @nochedie

a/n: heyy idk exactly how taglists works, im trying to make one, but I'm not sure so i just tagged some of my moots I hope would like loll. but please let me know if you want to be removed or not! (I might make a taglist on forms)

#꣖ ີ ꣓ writes.#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #supernatural #dean supernatural #dean winchester drabble #dean winchester x fem reader #dean winchester one shot #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester 🪽

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too-much-tma-stuff · 1 month ago

Text

Sibling Bonding (Part 5)

Previous | Masterpost | Next

Danny went to bed early that night, shooing Damian out of his room and setting up the galaxy projector Bruce had bought him. Laying on his bed under the images of stars he relaxed, tracing them slowly with his eyes to memorize them. Tomorrow he would compare the projection to the pictures in his books to find out if it was really correct and if not he’d make the adjustments when he put up his own glow in the dark stars. Dick was coming back to visit tomorrow as well, hopefully he’d arrive early enough Danny could enlist his help putting them up, he couldn’t exactly reach the ceiling on his own after all. Not without considerable suspicion anyway.

He was looking forward to it! He hugged his alien plush to his chest and fell asleep without turning the nightlight off.

His dreams found him floating, drifting in a void before he heard a distant but urgent call. He flipped over, urging himself towards the sound till he was surrounded once more by toxic green light and ever more urgent need but also safety. It protected him, but it needed him. It showed him portals of swirling green into a realm of infinite doors, floating islands, and stars, it beckoned him home, a bright beacon to follow, all he needed to do was follow the lines and open a portal. The call made it seem so easy but even in his sleep Danny knew it wasn’t so! If he answered the call it would take years! Did they have years? Maybe, time didn’t have much meaning to such a powerful, ancient, mindless force, it could be centuries or weeks.

Danny started awake with a haggard gasp, twitching with imaginary aftershocks of the lightning that had raced through his body when he’d first died. He breathed in, and out, and his breath out tingled with cold on his tongue. He swallowed thickly and leaned over, knocking a familiar rhythm on the wall between his and Damian’s room. After a long moment the knock was returned and Danny slid out of bed, padding out of his own room and down the hall a little to slip into Damian’s. He avoided his brother’s traps with ease of practice and locked the door behind him before going to slip into his twin’s bed.

“Nightmare?” Damian murmured softly, shifting closer and reaching out to hold Danny’s wrist.

“Yes,” Danny sighed softly, closing his eyes.

“About the pits?” Damian asked and Danny hummed an affirmative.

“I hoped once we were so far away I’d stop hearing the call,” He admitted, feeling Damian’s fingers twitch around his wrist. Danny had only mentioned the call a couple of times before. “I hoped it wouldn’t be able to reach me here, but I still hear it.”

“What does it want,” Damian asked softly.

Danny sighed and closed his eyes more tightly, biting his lip as he considered that. “It wants me to come home, it says it needs me.”

“It wants you to go back?... Back into the pit?” Damian asked sounding scared, Danny should have thought about how that sounded.

“Yes. But I’m not going to listen to it,” He promised softly. “We have to stick together after all, right?” He got a hum and a gentle squeeze on his wrist.

“Will you be able to get back to sleep?” Damian asked after a moment of quiet.

“I’ll be fine, go back to sleep Damian. Father will probably take you shopping tomorrow, you should be well rested,” Danny assured his brother, shifting just a little closer. He didn’t think he would be able to go back to sleep if he was honest but Damian should still sleep.

Damian hummed in agreement in a way that said he was already half asleep. Danny settled down again and closed his eyes, but he was afraid that if he went back to sleep he would hear the call again. He didn’t hear it every night, but he heard it regularly, and he didn’t want too. He didn’t think that it was bad, the call sounded like home, it needed him, it was hurt and it needed to be healed. He understood, sort of, that the pit was a wound, and there were many pits, many such wounds. But how? He was too young! Hopefully the experiments on the Lazarus water he was planning to do with father and Tim would help him find how to help.

He lay there in the dark, listening to Damian breath for a long time, thinking about everything and nothing. He finally dozed off but he only slept lightly through the rest of the night and woke up to the sound of footsteps in the hall as Tim left his room. Danny carefully extricated himself from Damian, he couldn’t do it without waking Damian up, they were both too well trained for that, but he could do it without making him panic.

He left the room, closing the door softly, though Tim still turned around at the sound. Danny gave him a little wave and smiled, Tim raised his eyebrows at Danny coming out of his brothers room. Danny shrugged and walked back to his room, he wasn’t really expecting Tim to come back and meet him in the middle.

“Everything okay?” He asked softly and Danny nodded.

“Of course, just a nightmare. I’ll see you at breakfast,” Danny assured before ducking back into his room before he could be asked what his nightmare had been about. He got dressed quickly and headed down to the kitchen, following the sound of soft music to where Alfred was preparing breakfast.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Danny asked, and only the slight hitch in Alfred’s motions betrayed that Danny had startled him. He was going to have to make more effort to make noise as he walked so he wouldn’t startle anyone in the family, he knew was nearly silent when he wasn’t paying attention.

“Do you have any experiencing cooking master Danny?” He asked looking over at the young man with a barely perceptible eyebrow raise.

“Well no,” Danny admitted, rubbing at the back of his neck. “The Demon Head’s Heir’s always had better thing to do,” He said with a little sneer as he imitated his grandfather’s words. “But I would like to learn, and I’m skilled with knives for obvious reason, so if anything needs chopping…” He trailed off with a hopeful look on his face.

“Alright young master, I’ve had to ban half your siblings and your father from the kitchen, but I do try to give every new child a chance,” he agreed. He looked thoughtfully around the kitchen. “Well I’m making oatmeal this morning so there isn’t much I need help with, though I suppose as long as you can be trusted not to injure yourself or others you can help me chop up some fruit for on top.

“You know, I didn’t get to ask before if you or your brother have any dietary requirements or preferences?” He asked as he laid out some washed fruit on a cutting board and handed Danny one of the kitchen knives, watching him intently as he started to cut them up.

“We’re not picky, we were raised eating whatever was available as long as we didn’t suspect it of poison,” Danny said with a bitter little chuckle. “That being said I would certainly prefer not to eat anything with a slimy texture, or with a lot of vinegar. And I think… I think Damian would prefer not to eat meat. But I can’t speak for him obviously, I wouldn’t make changes unless he asks, but if you find a way to drop into conversation that that might be an option with him, I think we’d both appreciate it,” Danny said thoughtfully as he cut up the fruit to Alfred’s satisfaction.

“Thank you for the information master Danny,” Alfred hummed, nodding to himself as he decided Danny actually could be trusted with the knife and went to stir the big pot of oatmeal on the stove, tasting it and adding a little more honey.

“How come he’s not band from the kitchen?” Tim asked from the doorway with his arms crossed and a performative pout.

“I have yet to see any evidence that master Danny will physically injure himself when attempting to help,” Alfred said with a small sniff and Danny couldn’t help but laugh.

“Don’t worry Tim, I’m sure I’ll get banned soon enough as well,” Danny joked as he poured the chopped strawberries into bowl and moved on to chunking the apples. Alfred grabbed a bag of walnuts and added some to one of the bowls as well as some other potential toppings for the oatmeal.

“If you would like to help, Master Tim, you can begin bringing these bowls out to the kitchen, and set the table,” Alfred directed brusquely, pushing them into Tim’s hands.

“Darn, I should have kept my mouth shut,” Tim said ruefully, but that was his only comment as he started ferrying things to the kitchen and setting the table. When he finished Alfred rewarded him with a mug of coffee Tim gleefully snatched and went to sit down at the same place at the table he had sat in at every meal.

“Is there assigned seating?” Danny murmured to Alfred worriedly, He and Damian hadn’t always sat in the same seats, they hoped they weren’t breaking house rules.

“Not as such,” Alfred said slowly. “But Tim, Bruce, and Cass all find comfort in routine, so they sit in the same places at the table every day. You don’t have to follow the same routine, but I’m sure they would appreciate you not sitting in their seats.”

“That’s good to know, thank you Alfred,” He said with a nod, filing that information away for later. “I’m going to go see if Damian is up and ready for breakfast,” He said, slipping out of the kitchen and trotting up the stairs. He knocked on Damian’s door softly, and got no response. When he opened the door a little, just enough to peek in, Damian wasn’t there and he hadn’t been down in the kitchen or dining room. He must be of snooping, Danny gave a long suffering sigh and went to check the nearest rooms.

He wasn’t overly surprised when he found Damian in Tim’s room but he frowned disapprovingly nonetheless. “Come on Damian, it’s time for breakfast, you don’t want to be caught in here,” He chided, beckoning for Damian to come out.

“I know, usually you would be the one sneaking around to gather intel like this but since you’re shirking that responsibility it falls to me to find out what we need to know,” He sniffed as he ducked back out. Probably just hiding his embarrassment.

“We agreed to wait a while before we acted on anything. So I’m just enjoying being away from the League for a while, you should too,” Danyal said rolling his eyes. “But if you feel that way I’ll have a look around when you go out with father. The fewer people in the house the easier it will be after all.”

Damian harumphed but nodded, with that settled they were quiet the rest of the way down to breakfast, finding Bruce had come down. Danny sat down at the table, Damian sat across from rather then next to him this morning. Cass was the last person to join them that morning and the Alfred started bringing out the oatmeal for them.

“So I mentioned yesterday today I’m planning to take Damian out to get clothes and whatnot,” Bruce said once he’d folded up his newspaper and set it aside. “But before we go out I’d like to have an little meeting with both of you in my office, it’s nothing bad I promise. We just need to talk about how we’re going to handle introducing both of you to the general public.”

“Yes father,” The twins said automatically and in unison, the same way they would respond to grandfather or mother. Danny sighed and ran a hand back through his hair, he didn’t like that automatic response.

Tim seemed to think it was amusing, until he saw the expression on Cass face, who clearly understood the implications, then he frowned. Cass had been raised in the league too after all, Danny wasn’t sure if that made him want to bond with her or avoid the hell out of her.

To change the subject Tim started to talk about the tests he wanted to do now that they had access to some of the Lazarus Water. Danny leaned forward, joining in with the conversation, bouncing ideas back and forth till Bruce had to join in to reign them in a little bit when it was obvious the two of them would go overboard if left on their own. Danny kept his expression blank and didn’t pout about that, though it did worry him that they might not be able to find out what he needed to know under their father’s limitations.

Once they finished breakfast they stacked their dishes out of habit, Tim and Bruce trying it as well though they did a worse job then the twins. They just needed more practice, it was obvious they could be good at just about anything they applied themselves to.

“Alright, come up to my office with me please,” Bruce beckoned to his two youngest sons, leading the way up to his large office with the grandfather clock. He sat behind his desk and gestured to the seats across from him, Danny and Damian settled in the fairly comfortable chairs. Danny wondered briefly if Bruce might switch them out for less comfortable chairs if he ever had to have a meeting here with someone that he liked less.

“This was in the paper this morning,” Bruce said, handing the paper he’d been reading over to them. It wasn’t the front page with ho many rogue attacks Gotham had, but it was close, a big article with a blurry picture of Bruce and Danny. “There’s really no point denying I have a new ward given how many clothes I was buying Danny. And by tonight they’ll know about both of you, though there will be some chatter about whether you’re the same person,” He chuckled resting his elbows on the desk and lacing his fingers together.

“I don’t want that, and I also don’t ant to funny expose either of you to the media yet. So my plan is to do a press conference announcing both of your existence, as my biological sons,” He inclined his head to Damian who preened a little. “I only found out about both of you recently when you came to live with me, but you came from a bad home and you’ll need more time to settle in before being exposed to the masses. I’ll sign you up for school starting next semester, so in about 4 months. And a month or so before that we’ll start easing you in to going a couple of galas and controlled interviews so the novelty of you existing has worn off some before being integrated with your peers.”

“They won’t be our peers, they’re civilians. They will not be on our level,” Damian scoffed crossing his arms over his chest. “But your plan is acceptable, though I would much prefer to be home-schooled. I’m sure we’re leagues ahead of the other children our age who weren’t put through such rigorous training,” He said with a disdainful sniff.

“You probably are academically but it would help you to socialize with people your own age, if only to sure up your secret identity if you want to join me in the field. We can’t have anyone making connections between either of you and Batman after all,” Bruce pointed out. Damian tilted his head to the side a little as he considered and then nodded, accepting their father’s reasons.

“Would you like to help me write the initial announcement about the two of you?” Bruce asked the two of them.

“I would like that,” Danny said quickly, Damian nodded along.

“Alright, we’ll have to do that tomorrow because I don’t want to start my shopping trip with Damian too late, but I will call you both back in here tomorrow so we can write the speech and I can schedule the press conference.” He looked at them both, waiting for their confirmation before he nodded and stood. “Good, that was all I needed to talk to both of you about for now. Are you ready to go out Damian?” He asked looking at the green eyes twins.

“Yes, of course,” Damian agreed, getting up from his chair, hands folded politely behind his back.

“Good, you’ll be alright Danny?” Bruce asked and Danny gave their father a crooked smile and nodded.

“Of course I will, I’ll try to bond with Tim, and maybe Dick some depending when he arrives today,” Danny agreed easily.

“Hm, like Damian did yesterday?” He asked eyeing the younger twin with a disapproving frown, Damian winced. “Yes I know about that, we’ll be talking about it later,” Bruce told Damian firmly, making Danny wince as well.

“No, not like Damian did,” Danyal assured, softly and a little guilty because it felt to some degree like he was throwing his brother under the bus. Should he do something to get himself in trouble to take the attention off of Damian? It wouldn’t be the first time but… he didn’t really want to this time. “I hope you have a good day!” He said, waving to his brother and father before ducking out and going to go find Tim in his bedroom. The door was partially open but Danny knocked on it anyway to alert Tim to his presence.

“Hey, are you busy?” Danny asked, tilting his head a little. The wary look Tim gave him could only be a result of whatever Damian had done yesterday and Danny had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from wincing.

“No,” Tim drawled, his sharp eyes watching Danny’s movements, his shoulders tensed in case he needed to defend himself.

“In that case I was hoping you’d show me how to play some of you video games?” He requested, edging inside Tim’s room. “I think you and I might have similar tastes, but I know very little modern media, and I have nothing else today?” He asked, giving Tim his best puppy dog eyes.

“Uhh sure, I have some work I need to do for Wayne Enterprises and some cases but I can take a break to show you some stuff,” Tim agreed, closing his laptop and getting up. Danny smiled and came further into Tim’s room as he set up one of the gaming systems and perused. “We’ll have to start with something pretty simple till you get the hang of the controls, so a Mario game with multiplayer would be good,” He mused and grabbed a game.

“Sure, sounds good,” Danny agreed with some idea what Mario was, and settled in for a morning of frustration and fun as he tried to get a hang of the controls. He got it pretty well and started to have fun, though after a couple levels he still got tired and they stopped, switching to Tim showing him a movie Danny ‘just had to see' and talking a bit about what Danny should expect when he and Damian were enrolled in school. It was invaluable information really since neither of the twins had ever set foot in a school, Danny would pass on the information later.

When Danny heard a bit of a ruckus downstairs that indicated Dick had arrived he left Tim to his work and went to greet his oldest brother. He trotted downstairs, bracing himself for being hugged before he came around the corner and smiled at Dick. “Hello again,” He said brightly, and was ready for it this time when Dick gasped and rushed over to hug him tightly.

“Hello Danny! It’s good to see you again!” Dick greeted as Danny laughed and patted the older man’s back. “How have you been settling in? Where’s your shadow?” He asked curiously.

“We’ve been settling in alright, Damian is out shopping with father. I went out yesterday, and while we were out I got some glow in the dark stars. I’d like to put them up on my ceiling in he form of the constellations here, but I can’t reach the ceiling…” He trailed off and gave Dick puppydog eyes that made the older man laugh.

“Of course I’ll help you put them up Danny, I can lift you up so you can reach the ceiling no problem,” He assured, putting Danny down and releasing him.

“Thank you!” Danny said, already trotting off towards his bedroom with Dick on his heels. When they reached his room Danny grabbed one of his book of astronomy, opening the book to the two page spread of the night sky. Danny scanned the ceiling quickly, making quick calculations of how the small image would translate to his larger ceiling. “Okay, I’d like to start in the middle and go out in a sort of spiral I think,” He mused as Dick came over to look at the book over his shoulder.

“That makes sense. You really like the stars huh?” He asked, no judgment, just open, good natured curiosity.

“I do! They’re really interesting,” Danny agreed, putting down the book and grabbing the first pack of glow in the dark stars, padding to the center of the room. “Okay, lift me up please?” Danny asked, pointing at the ceiling. Dick saluted with a good-natured laugh, coming over to pick Danny up so he could start arranging the stars. This was going to take hours, but neither of them minded, focusing on the stars the contact bothered Danny much less, and Dick was thrilled to get to bond with his new little brother, and with the excuse to hold him. Sure by the end Dick’s arms were a bit sore from the workout, but that was a small price to pay!

#dc x dp #my writing #dick grayson #danyal al ghul #damian al ghul #bruce wayne #alfred pennyworth #demon twins au #multi part fic

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storiesofsvu · 8 months ago

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Not a Dream

Addison Montgomery x reader warnings: language, the briiiiefest mention of medical angst, pure fluff otherwise. This was requested AGES ago, not even sure who by at this point. I should really get better at noting that part before i answer the og ask lol. Anyways, have some Addison fluff!

This was queued but after today I need some validation serotonin so have this weeks early!🫶🏻

Take out dinner, a few bottles of wine and a night filled with gossip, trashy reality tv and old movies was nothing new for you and Addison. In fact, it was nearly a weekly function. It had started after one very long, too tough week at the hospital, you were her scrub nurse and just as, if not more invested in each of her patients, cases and surgeries. Out of the three of them, you lost one, nearly lost the second and had a serious complication come up with the third. While the remaining two ended up pulling through and everything was successful, it was needless to say the entire experience was a little too draining. So Addison asked if you wanted to join her for a drink and rather than bring down the morale at Joe’s, you ended up at her place where you could wallow in peace, eventually laughing over ridiculous stories and shows.

It was your ‘you’ time, but together, where you could relax and wind down from your high stress jobs, talk things through if you wanted, or just completely forget. It was how the two of you got to know each other, shared memories from your childhoods, told stories from your time in med school, Addison often commented how nice it was to have a real friend out in Seattle and you couldn’t help but agree.

You both felt completely at peace around each other, you knew you were safe, that you wouldn’t be judged for your pasts, that you enjoyed a lot of the same things and shared a lot of the same opinions. You worked incredibly well together, often bringing each other coffee in the mornings and sitting together for lunches. It was such a seamless and effortless friendship that grew stronger every day, which is why when the two of you fell asleep on the couch halfway through The Time Traveller’s Wife, you thought nothing of it. When the song played over the closing credits blared you awake you let out a soft sigh, feeling the warmth blooming through your chest at how secure you felt considering the vulnerable situation and nudged Addison’s side.

“Not letting you drive, c’mon, you know where the guest room is.”

She replied with a small groan but followed you off the couch after flicking off the television and disappeared into the guest room, lingering in the doorway just long enough to watch your bedroom door swing shut behind you. With a gentle sigh she retreated into the bedroom, still feeling the warmth on her skin where you’d head had been tucked into the crook of her neck while you slept. Her heart was a low strum in her chest, one that she knew matched the pace of yours, the two of you morphing into one single rhythm while entangled on the couch. As she pulled open the dresser to find the pyjamas you always left out for her she couldn’t help the way the corner of her lips curved up into a grin.

Falling asleep together wasn’t a problem at all. It was waking up and having to go your separate ways for the rest of the night that was the issue.

Addison woke up in the morning to the quiet clattering of you in the kitchen and the soft sound of summer rain beating against the window pane. She let out a relaxed sigh, rolling over in the bed to stretch out her body with a small groan, at least she didn’t have anything planned today for the rain to ruin. The last time she’d crashed at your place you’d left out a fresh toothbrush in the hallway bathroom and she was pleasantly surprised to find it still there, along with a face cloth and body towel in case she wanted to shower. Once she was finally refreshed, hair tossed up on the top of her head she wandered out into the main part of the house.

“Someone’s been busy.” She greeted with a small laugh and you glanced up from your spot at the island, a slightly shy smile on your cheeks.

“Oh, hey, yeah. I made breakfast.” You gestured vaguely across the island and Addison couldn’t help but chuckle again.

“I can see that.”

“I didn’t know what you liked, so I uh…” you laughed awkwardly, nearly wringing your hands, “likely made enough to probably feed a small tribe.”

As you watched Addison’s eyes sweep over the island you realized just how utterly ridiculous the entire thing was. Any overnight guest would be more than happy and thankful for a half toasted, plain bagel on the way out the door. Meanwhile you couldn’t remember if Addi preferred waffles or pancakes so you’d made both. And that wasn’t even the half of it. There were various fruits and whipped cream to be used as toppings if she didn’t want syrup, there was a plate of bacon, sausage, eggs done three different ways and two different types of hashbrowns. Bread was sitting in the toaster just waiting for her to wake up to be toasted (and not to worry, there were sourdough and multigrain options) along with a plate of sliced cheese, tomato, smoked salmon and red onion if she wanted to lean toward a breakfast sandwich option.

“I could have sworn we’ve had breakfast together before.”

“A cup of coffee from the cart and a pastry stolen from the nurses station does not count.” You offered and she laughed.

“Huh, you’re right. I guess it just felt like we regularly did.”

You occupied yourself with your coffee mug, taking a sip of the steaming beverage before you spoke again, “oh, and I picked up some of that oat vanilla creamer you like so much, it’s in the fridge.”

“God, you are just an absolute angel.” She beamed, stepping toward you to plant a kiss on the side of your head before effortlessly moving through your kitchen.

She didn’t have to think or guess, she just seemed to know exactly where everything that wasn’t currently on the island was. Addison plucked the perfect coffee mug from the cupboard, easily stepping over to the fridge to get the aforementioned creamer to add in the amount she wanted before filling up the mug.

“Plates?” She asked, turning back to you and you broke out of your trance.

“Oh, shit, guess I didn’t remember everything.” Both of you laughed as Addison turned toward another cupboard, managing to pull down to plates, passing one over to you before you grabbed whatever utensils you might need considering the amount of choices.

“Well, considering you put in such an incredible effort I think we’ve got to eat a bit of everything.” She stated, swiping a piece of bacon to munch on while she looked through the other plates, starting to fill up her own.

“Oh, Addi, no…” you protested and she tsk’d at you.

“Nope. It all looks amazing; I’m going to try all of it.” She slid a pancake onto her plate, “are you seriously telling me you can decide between sweet and savoury with all of this in front of you?”

“I guess you’re right.” You laughed, settling onto the stool across from her as you began to load up your own plate.

Now that you were focusing on eating the nerves jumping under your skin were finally able to calm down, knowing that Addison didn’t think you were as ridiculous as you felt. Especially as the two of you started to eat and she couldn’t possibly hold back her praise over how incredibly literally everything tasted, and honestly, she wasn’t wrong. You’d put way more effort into things than if you’d been cooking for just yourself and every little trick was a burst of flavour on your tastebuds.

“You know what it is?” She suddenly asked over a bite of pancake and you nodded as you put your coffee mug down.

“Once the batter’s started to solidify in the pan before flipping you add syrup right into the pancake.” You explained, “and real Canadian maple syrup from the farmer’s market, not store bought shit.”

“I guess you’re not wrong.” She laughed, examining her pancake before taking another bite and you felt your cheeks heat once again. “but I meant why I felt like a real, at home breakfast was something we regular did.”

“Oh?” You raised a brow in her direction and the smile she gave you was enough to make you completely forget how to speak.

“Because I feel like I’m home whenever you’re near me.” She reached out, briefly squeezing at your arm, “you’re just...perfect.”

“Addi…”

“Okay, fine. I know how you feel about the whole perfection thing, but you are the most perfect that you could be, especially to me. You go above and beyond being an incredible friend every day.”

“I mean, I just want you to know how much I appreciate everything you do for me.”

“You know, I take it back.” She suddenly glanced back up and you felt the nerves starting to tingle though you again. “I don’t know if friends would be the right word for how I feel when we’re together. You know me so well, better than anyone else that’s for sure. You know what I need before I’ve realized it, whether it’s a surgical instrument or day to myself so I don’t get sick, you have this magical way of anticipating everything and sometimes I don’t think I’ve shown you enough appreciation for that. Because not only the things you do, but also you mean the world to me, I hope you know that.”

Your mouth felt too dry to speak, not wanting to say something you would instantly regret, so you simply nodded instead, earning a warm smile from the other woman.

“Good.” Her hand slid across the island and she squeezed at yours, warmth blooming through your body from the point of contact all the way to the tips of your toes. When she interlocked her fingers with yours your breath caught in your throat and you were praying she couldn’t feel your pulse racing. “when I say you make me feel like home, I mean it. I don’t have to worry about anything around you, I can just… be. I’ve never felt this comfortable in my life, you’re like a—”

“Sister to you?” You interrupted and Addison stalled, her posture stiffening as she contemplated pulling her hand away from yours but you shifted oh so slightly towards her so she left it where it was.

“I was going to say partner.. but if that’s the route you want to go.” She laughed, her cheeks tinging pink as embarrassment flooded over her, “I’m pretty good at backpedalling after I’ve made a fool of myself.”

You fought the instinct to leap off your stool, knowing that now was the time to dive full into the deep end and never look back. “What?! No! No! I just… I never thought we’d end up together but here you are confessing everything to me.”

“You’ve thought about it?” She asked hesitantly, her eyes flicking back up to yours and you nodded once more, struggling to find your voice.

“Yeah… every day for the last month at least…” your voice was barely above a whisper, “hope that’s not too imposing… I thought I caught a vibe…”

“You did.” She admitted, a fluttering picking up in her chest, “I’ve been fighting off the urge to kiss you for weeks.”

“What’s stopping you now?” You blurted, apparently there was nothing holding you back anymore and she laughed softly, her thumb brushing over your knuckles.

“I guess nothing…”

Addison barely had to nudge at your hand and you were sliding off your stool towards her, your free hand pushing a piece of hair back behind her ear as you stepped between her legs.

“Hi…” You whispered and a grin took over her lips.

“Hi…”

“If I’m about to wake up and this is some wild figment of my imagination—”

“Then it’s the best dream I’ve ever had.” Addison murmured, her fingers tracing the side of your face before leaning in to close the gap between the two of you and her lips met yours.

You practically melted into her, her arm winding around your waist, pulling you impossibly close while your lips moved with grace against one another. It was a slice of heaven both of you had been waiting far too long for, lips curving up into happy grins as the kiss continued. You both lingered, perhaps too long in the morning light, just to make sure it wasn’t some kind of wild hallucination fueled by too many rom-coms, and that you weren’t about to wake up on the couch while movie credits played. Addison’s fingers tickled at your cheeks and you couldn’t help the gentle laugh that escaped your lips as you pulled away from the kiss, only to lean in again and peck her lips.

“Not a dream.” You murmured.

“Definitely not.” She replied with a smile, “now how about you go turn on some Housewives and relax with your coffee.” She squeezed at your hand, “I’ll clean this up and get all the leftovers into the fridge.”

Reluctantly, you stepped away from her, noticing that the warmth in the room, blooming in your chest and shining all the way into hers didn’t dissipate with the distance between you this time. You refilled your coffee mug before crossing into the open living room, dropping onto the couch to pick up the remote.

“Please, pack up multiple containers for yourself to take home, lord knows I won’t be able to eat all of it.”

“Who said anything about me going home anytime soon?” Addison called over her shoulder, a wicked grin on her face, her words bringing a blush to your cheeks as you sunk impossibly deeper into the couch in a fit of giggles.

You were certain, if this was a dream, it was the best one, and the most realistic one you’d ever had, and there was no way you would be forgetting the feeling of Addison’s lips on yours. However it wasn’t, and you wouldn’t have to worry about remembering the details because ten minutes later she was joining you on the couch, peppering your face in kisses that tasted like maple syrup and strawberries.

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#addison montgomery #addison montgomery x reader #not a dream #grey's anatomy #private practice #addison montgomery fanfic #addison montgomery fluff #fluff #one shot #grey's anatomy fluff #grey's anatomy fanfic

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evvyyypeters-fics · 6 months ago

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Freak Like Me

Jimmy Darling x felinehybrid!f!reader

Warnings! Angst, harassment, female violence, abuse/ CA, fluff ending, lil cringe maybe

“Mommy! Look at her!” Chirped the small child observing me like a zoo animal, a pure smile on her face as she pointed.

“Don’t look sweetie!” Hissed her mother, yanking her on the arm as she dragged her past me. Her glaring eyes darted between her enamored child and my face. I could tell the difference in the scorn between me and her child, even if I couldn’t prove it.

It's been 3 years since I’d been accepted into the Freak Show, the glares and scornful looks becoming custom to me over the course of my life. I was born a freak, just like everyone else. Everyday came new insults and reactions, and I never got used to any of them. But I learned to tolerate it. To ignore it and keep a smile, or a straight face. Everyone in the Freak Show was always supportive of me, comforting me and giving me a place that finally feels like home. But no one was a bigger comfort to me than Jimmy Darling.

Like me, he had an obvious malformation that needed to be hidden in public to be seen as ‘normal’ in society. He was one of the few people now in my life who I felt I could lean on the most. I felt he always had my back, and in return I had his. I’d had a crush on Jimmy for ages, his generous behavior and bold, friendly personality struck a chord in my heart. His love and protection for the other freaks, the ones who couldn’t fend for themselves as well, he beat the drum of my heart creating a stead-fast rhythm. As well as that cheeky smirk he dawned.

When I first met Jimmy, I expected him to make fun of me just like the other people in my life. He seemed like just the right asshole with his charms, flirts and overall charisma. Instead, he had this soft look in his eyes, something tender and special. I think we truly saw something in each other, a kinship. I was born genetically altered during an experiment orchestrated by the now asylum doctor, Dr. Arden. His sick experiments trying to create human abominations. And I was no exception.

He believed that with the agility and resilience of a cat, if he mixed feline and human DNA he could create a modified human with extreme agile abilities, hearing, smell and sense. His experiment ‘failed’ when I came out with only the behaviors of a domestic house cat and a set of cat-like ears and a matching tail. He kept me prisoner as a pet until I was 12, I was lucky to live that long with him as he originally planned to kill me, but couldn’t bring himself to do it as I was the only one of his experiments that didn’t turn rabid or died. I eventually escaped when I was 13, becoming homeless. The cups I held for money being spat into instead of just being ignored like the others.

Sometimes people would see me and instantly begin beating me up, leaving me wounded in the bushes. But it seems that cats must really have nine lives, because I lived to meet Elsa, who found me alone and battered in a ditch. Where she invited me to join her Freak Show. Where I met Jimmy, with his clawed hands.

A Lobster and a cat was quite an ironic pairing. Jimmy still liked to tease me from time to time, holding fish out in his hand and swinging it like bait as if I was dying to pounce on it. I’d just glare and cross my arms like I was tired of his foolish endeavors even though I quite enjoyed his little quips.

It was Saturday, a perfect night for the Freak Show. Elsa had managed to save the show for now with a few more acts added to the set, and a few new freaks added to the cast. I was included at the time. Our best show had 50 people show up, and our usual crowd is almost 20. Which is enough to get us all by for a while. Our balance usually runs out by the end of the month, but with consistent show times, it was a stable income.

Today I was asked to do fortune telling in place of Maggie, who (not so) unfortunately died in a freak accident. She was a fraud and ex-lover of Jimmy Darling, so a part of me didn’t feel much sympathy for her. I hadn’t known Maggie during either of our times at the Freak Show together, but I don’t miss her presence regardless. I just hated having been put with her job, feeling like a fraud myself. But Elsa insisted that fortune telling was quite popular, and with my cat-like features it was even easier to market.

I spent the whole night giving vague fortunes to anyone of any age. I mainly had children who were curiously fascinated by the flick of my tail and twitch of my ears. I spent more time answering their questions than telling their fortunes, which was sort of a win for me. I let some of the, granted less-greasy, children brush my tail for a moment before they shrieked and scurried back to their mothers like a flock of chicks.

In the corner of my eye I notice a dark figure standing in the distance through the open tent curtains, it’s tall and dons what I could only make out as a bowler hat and a long trench coat. When I squint my eyes to take a closer look, the figure is gone seemingly, as if I had just imagined it. It was getting late, and I felt sleep washing over me, but I hadn’t realized how tired I must have been until now. Imagining dark figures in the distance was quite unusual behavior for me.

I had begun to pack up the tent when I heard the soft swish of the curtains dropping, seeing the hazy moonlight disappearing in the enclosed makeshift room, illuminating only with the small candles and oil lamps dawning around the furniture to make it more moody. I quickly whip my head around behind me to gauge who just came in.

“Sorry, I’m closing up.” I said calmly, trying not to sound frightened, but I knew it must have been obvious anyways, my tail and ears always gave away my true emotions. Not to mention the bug-eyed look most likely plastered over my face.

I didn’t relax any further though when I saw a tall man standing there, he donned a brown bowler hat and a matching long trench coat. His hands tucked leisurely in his pockets. I noticed a small scruffy pre-shave beard on his chin, despite the tilt of his head under his hat hiding his gaze from me.

“Can I help you?” I ask, eventually turning my body to face him, getting in a stance ready to fight or run if I had to.

He raised his head and I could see the glimmer of his brown eyes, a deep droop in his lids and a small mustache upon his lip. He smirks amusedly at me.

“Yes, you can.” He says in a low, smooth voice. He was quite an attractive man, I had to admit. But there was something wrong about him, and I couldn’t place my finger on it yet.

That was until he took some steps forward and began to entice me with his words.

“What’s such a pretty feline like you doing here? When you could do so much more…you’re beautiful. You could be a model.” He smiles at me, like it was meant to be pleasant, but it only sent shivers down my spine.

I went into a defensive stance as I began to back away from him, but he only got closer, easily cornering me. I felt like an idiot for doing that, but I had no other choice. My breath began to shorten in my chest, coming out as sharp inhales, my heart fluttering like a hummingbird in my chest and pounding through my ears. I was getting dizzy with panic.

“Don’t be afraid, darling.” The man coos menacingly as my ears begin to flatten to my head. My words choked in my throat as I scream and thrash in my head, only coming out as burning tears in my eyes.

“Say….” He trails, glancing at my tail with a smirk. I freeze in place from his gaze and yelp painfully when he pulls at my tail.

“So, it is real.” He scoffs delightfully as if he almost didn’t believe it despite the clear movement.

“My…what a beautiful specimen you are, indeed…” He says slowly, taking his time with each syllable like a long breath. He reaches out for my hair and squishes it between his fingers, a new sort of mischievous grin on his face. One that is dark and disturbing and makes my hair stand up.

He starts to move his fingers to tuck my hair back behind my ear, but suddenly the curtains of the tent fly open and I see a familiar figure standing in the doorway with a look of sheer shock and surprise on his face that quickly turns into rage as he drops everything in his hands and storms over to the man. They’re almost the same height, so Jimmy easily grabs his shoulder to turn him and knocks a fair punch in his face. His deformed hand created what I assumed was probably a harsher blow than average.

The man instantly dropped to the ground, holding his now surely broken nose in his hand as blood seeped through his fingers like a river. He lifts his head to Jimmy and they just stare at each other for a split second before the man silently gets up and sprints away. Jimmy watches him run, practically huffing with anger before turning to me, his demeanor shifts and his breathing calms as he gives me a soft gaze.

“Are you ok?” He asks in a concerned, gentle tone. He doesn’t even let me answer before he swings his arm protectively over me and begins to lead me out of the tent and to his caravan.

“C’mon sweetheart.” He beckons, as if I wouldn’t follow him to the ends of the Earth no matter where we were.

As soon as he closes the door to the caravan behind us, the welled up sobs begin to climb out of my throat, thick and hot tears rolling down my cheeks. Jimmy instantly looks concerned and wraps me in a tight hug, resting his chin on the top of my head as his large hands rub my back soothingly.

“There, there.” He says comfortingly as he lets all the emotions built up inside of me through the day wash over and spill. Holding me tight to his chest so I could hear the calm, melodic drum of his heart, beating lovingly for me.

The sound itself begins to soothe me, along with his tender massages of my back and eventually the storm of tears subsides. He removes his chin from the top of my head and loosens his hold a bit as he points his face towards me and gauges my expression.

“Feeling better?” He asks with a soft chuckle, a gentle smile painted on his face that swelled in my heart.

I nodded silently and threw myself into another tight hug where he began to pat my head.

“Jimmy…” I said, my words muffled by the clothes on his chest.

“Yes, Darlin’” He replied, our cheeky little inside joke.

“Can we cuddle?” I ask, my cheeks becoming a soft pink when asking, slightly embarrassed at the request. I didn’t know how he would answer, we didn’t have the cuddly kind of relationship. At least, not in my eyes.

To my surprise I feel him shift, a soft nod. “Of course.” He rings out in a soft voice and I felt as if my heart could have almost exploded from how hard it started pounding in my chest. A feverish pattering that rushed through my whole body with a light weight feeling.

Without another word we both stood in silence, unsure of what to do, before Jimmy started slowly leading us both to his bed in a slow walk. He sat down gently on the mattress first before scooting back and letting me crawl forwards over him, nuzzling snuggly into the crevice of his arm and resting my head on his chest. I was soothed again by the subtle rise and fall of his breaths, hearing again the rhythm drumming of his heart in my ear.

He strokes my hair gently with his fused fingers, petting the top of my head like a true house cat. A strange hum began to pull from my throat as he continued to stroke my head and ears, his other hand wrapping around my back and rubbing it in slow motions up and down my spine.

“Are you purring?” He chuckled sweetly when he noticed the low sound.

“N-No!” I blurt out, shy and confused.

“I didn’t even know you could do that.” He says, smiling and resting his head back down on the pillow.

“Me neither…” I mumbled, and he lifted a curious brow, dropping it and letting it go.

Despite the strange reaction he pulled from me with the massages, he continued petting me, each rub and stroke becoming stronger and more deliberate. I felt the urge to continue the favor, my fists kneading into his chest with hesitant nudges. He smiled silently to himself when he felt the soft press of my knuckles rolling against his shirt. My eyes gently closed, eyelashes splayed over my pink cheeks.

Lulled to sleep in his arms, we both fell asleep together that night, waking up in each other’s arms and sharing a comforting smile together. Things were surely going to be different around here now.

Taglist (you can be added or removed at any time):

@fear-is-truth @xkaisxjazzxsingerx @lemoniiiiiii @jazz-berry @marchsfreakshow @colinzabelswife @dearlizzies @am3ricanh0rrorwh0re @xrag-dollx @lacucarachapisser @alittleobsessedbitch

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