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pesky--dust · 11 hours

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We all laugh (or get annoyed) at Jack for being stupid. I do it myself, but let me stand up for him right now.

Let me start quite obviously: Jack had no ill intentions when he brought Will Graham into the FBI's work. He was convinced that Will could save lives and was ready to support him in that — he wanted Alana Bloom to be his psychological support, and when she refused, he went to the psychiatrist she recommended — Hannibal Lecter.

Yes, I'm annoyed myself with how he keep putting pressure on Will (e.g. episode Coquilles: "You go back to your classroom and there’s more killing that you could have prevented, it will sour that classroom forever") and his way of thinking, which he admitted to Hannibal Lecter in Buffet froid, which I will show with a fragment of the script of the said episode:

(that feeling when you agree with cannibalistic serial killer)

It was after Coquilles in which Will said that he want to quit because it is bad for him, so no Jack, I don't think Will feels the same way.

But this post was supposed to be a defense of Jack Crawford, so let's get back on topic.

Jack didn't know the truth about Hannibal, he didn't know that Will had autoimmune encephalitis, and he had no reason not to believe Hannibal that what was wrong with Will was psychological. After all, Dr. Lecter was the psychiatrist recommended to him! And Jack had every right to believe that Hannibal was giving Will the psychological help he needed in his work with the FBI.

And Hannibal prepared the ground for the version that Will has a mental disorder. The story that Hannibal presented made sense: due to his empathy disorder, Will began to believe that he was G.J. Hobbs and continued his work, ultimately taking the life of his daughter.

Jack recruited Will to work with the FBI, believing in his abilities, but Hannibal made him believe that the job had broken Graham mentally. And it's not unusual for disappointed patients to blame their therapists, so it would be quite a natural turn of events for Will to start claiming that Hannibal is the copycat killer, just to avoid being the one to blame. And there was no evidence against Hannibal, because he took care of it.

And now let me focus on the episode titled Yakimono.

Miriam Lass turned out to be alive. Hannibal's partial fingerprint was found at the place where she was held! And on top of that, Dr. Chilton referenced a cannibalistic joke he heard from Hannibal! And Jack ignored it all!!!

But are you sure? In my opinion, he was already planning to use Will again. I think Jack started to suspect something when Beverly Katz was murdered. In Futamono, he tested the food served at Hannibal's party. No human flesh was found there. With Yakimono though, Will's honey pot act in regards of Hannibal begins.

And my theory may seem to make no sense to you, but let me dig into it.

Let me show you a deleted scene from Kaiseki which I find particularly important, crucial one, here:

Tl;dr: Hannibal is social anti social, Will can shape him somehow, because Hannibal believes that Will is as unique as him himself.

Which leads to the conclusion that…

To catch Hannibal, the FBI must take advantage of his weakness towards Will.

And during his honey pot act, Will was still working with Jack, so why wouldn't Jack trust him? However, in Mizumono, Will called Hannibal, warning him, which led to the bloodbath, so why, even after hearing in Aperitivo that Will wanted to run away with Hannibal and a part of him would always want to (Dolce), did Jack continue to trust him? I think it was because Jack thought Will blamed himself for Abigail's death and since he was trying so hard to be a parent to her, he thought that if he ran away with Hannibal, Abigail would be still alive. And in the end, Will "got" Hannibal arrested, right?

Why did Jack allow Hannibal's fake escape in The Wrath of the Lamb and involved Will in that?

In my opinion it connects with the paragraph from earlier. Three years had passed, Will had gotten married, adopted his wife's son, so he had mentally recovered from the bloodbath and the death of his surrogate daughter, right? He told Jack he was really happy, right?

Will may have warned Hannibal and wanted to run away with him, but he was the reason Hannibal was caught. Three years have passed and Will has gotten himself together. In front of Jack he was playing (at least partially) about how he doesn't want to be drawn into the "game" he was playing with Hannibal again, he warned Molly that when he came back he would be different (he didn't come back), he said Alana that seeing Hanniabal for the first time in three years made him feel like Hannibal was looking through to the back of his skull; felt like a fly flitting around in there (... and the Woman Clothed with the Sun), he assured her that he wouldn't let Hannibal into his head again. Will seemed to be traumatized by all this. Up until...

This is the scene where Will is in Jack's office watching what the Dragon has done to Chilton (The Number of the Beast is 666). He looks terrified, panicked, and then suddenly… he becomes sort of relaxed, calm? Would you agree with that? I guess so. But have you ever noticed that there is a transition between these two reactions? It is in front of Jack and Alana that he is terrified, in front of Bedelia he is calm and admits to her that maybe he exposed Chilton to the Dragon on purpose because he actually hates him (just like in the book, although in the book he set Freddy Lounds up to the Dragon).

Will played in front of Jack until the end. Even when suggesting using Hannibal as bait, Will pretends he's not 100% sure it will work, even though he already had a deal with Francis Dolarhyde (The Wrath of the Lamb). It was us as the audience who knew this, not Jack.

I think that Jack believed Will, because he wanted to; it was his way of trying to rehabilitate himself after what Will had to go through because of him because Jack didn't believe him from the beginning that Hannibal was the Copycat. I think that after it turned out that Hannibal was not only the Copycat Killer, but also the Chesapeake Ripper, Jack decided to never doubt Will's abilities again. And that doomed him, just as Kade Prunnell and Alana Bloom predicted.

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crimeronan · 16 days

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i'm currently having a fascinating flareup where everything in my body is on fire, but instead of sleeping through it like i used to, i'm combating the physical urge to leave my apartment at 4:30 AM in my good shoes and literally just run as far as i physically can before i finally collapse and have to call a lyft home. this is not a practical thing to do when you still have a migraine that means you cannot look at streetlights or headlights or the rising sun. so i googled "why does pain make me want to run," because i thought surely this isn't just a me thing, maybe there's a pinched nerve somewhere or a muscular issue i can resolve, i Know there are subreddits Filled with chronic pain tips, whatever. unfortunately, google is not built for this kind of literalism, and so the entire first page of results is just ["you forget to cherish her" voice] "Oh..... Sweetheart..... Poor Suffering Babbu.... Honey Bunches Of Oats..... You Are So Afraid..... Of Your Own Self....."

#(yes you are allowed/supposed to laugh at this post.)#thank you google. i assure you i am not.#inevitably later today i'll be posting an update like 'walked 5 miles but then wandered into traffic and a passerby called an ambulance #just because i curled up and started screaming in the middle of the asphalt. why don't people mind their own fucking business'#i can see this very clearly in my 12-hours-from-now future.#i am in so much pain yall.#i dunno what the deal is. no feelings of doom so im not horribly worried but the ongoing migraine is um. not good.#anyway. i'll be fine but i may need to walk 5 miles into traffic first #autoimmune tag

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drchucktingle · 2 years

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Something I’ve been curious about if it wouldn’t break the bit: are you one buckaroo or several sharing a name and persona?

greetings bud thank you for asking FIRST OF ALL want to say to you or anyone reading this post that i am not upset over this question and i am not upset with you. you have kindness in your trot and i know you are just asking to prove love in your own way. buds reading this please do not harass this person in fact maybe give them a follow or a like, they are trying their best.

OKAY NOW THAT IS OUT OF THE WAY i will talk on my feelings of this with simple statement:

this is not a bit.

i understand it can be difficult to accept this for some, especially in world where absurdity and cynical humor is so popular, but i am very sincere. even though i make jokerman jokes sometimes, even in my writing, tinglers are not supposed to be funny as a concept. if you laugh at them that is TOTALLY OKAY i understand this way when confronted with something out of the box but that is not the point of them at all. the point is that LOVE IS REAL for everyone (there are other points but that is a broad one)

now on to why i trot my trot in this way. first off is to protect my privacy this is simple enough. when i talk on son jon or sweet barbara or any other way i am adding a layer of secrets by changing names or relations or towns but that is just a fancy outfit for the real truth. i am NOT creating a character, i am protecting myself.

second and more important is that when i TALK IN MY UNIQUE WAY i am expressing myself without masking, which is something old chuck does every single day out there in the world as someone on the autism spectrum. i am VERY GOOD AT MASKING you would probably not know chuck was autistic when talking to me unless you were a close bud. but unfortunately this masking way creates very real tension in my body. i have trotted with CHRONIC PAIN for most of my life heading to emergency rooms where kind and handsome t-rex doctors could not figure out what the heck was goin on. basically LIVED in the dang emergency room. eventually chuck learned i carried my body TOO TIGHT from masking all the time, but what i realized is that allowing myself a space to type freely without way of punctuation or other restrictions and LETTING MY HEART SING to just be myself without masking made this tension release. pain started going away. GRAND IRONY of course is that when im trotting as chuck i wear a pink mask to take off my OTHER MASK of a neurotypical bud.

that is why i protect my way of speaking freely as well. if someone says 'well you need to talk like this right now' i stand tall and say NO BUD THIS IS MY SPACE AND I WILL EXPRESS MYSELF IN THIS WAY AND YOU AN TROT ON IF YOU WANT. this is firm boundary for me and my health.

anyway buckaroo to sum that up again: yes i am one person and this is not a bit

if you want to know more about my way on the autism spectrum i wrote a tingler about how it feels to have others say you are 'playing a character' and not actually neurodivergent. i think tumblr buds might enjoy so i will add it down here LOVE IS REAL thank you for your question

NOT POUNDED BY THE PHYSICAL MANIFESTATION OF SOMEONE ELSE'S DOUBT IN MY PLACE ON THE AUTISM SPECTRUM BECAUSE DENYING SOMEONE'S PERSONAL JOURNEY AND IDENTITY LIKE THAT IS INCREDIBLY RUDE SO NO THANKS

#chuck tingle #character #neruodivergent #masking #autism #autism spectrum #tingleverse #love is real #tingler #good talks with buds #buckaroo lifestyle

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mariahcarreyyy · 3 months

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love ur writing, so deserved!!! ‘shush, we can’t have anyone hearing this,’ + max or oscar… maybe with some overstim?

# prompt no.9, "shush, we can't have anyone hearing this." nsfw 18+ content under beware ⬇️⬇️

mariahcarreyyy's 2k celebration announcement post

The tricky thing with traveling to Australia with your boyfriend to meet his family for two weeks is not having neither the privacy nor time to fuck for two weeks. To shed off each other's clothes, kiss lovingly while Osc pounds into you, heaving breaths flowing out of his mouth when your pussy clenches around his dick like he'd ever fucking pull out now.

So, prior to entering the thick atmosphere of the plane, you and Oscar had devised a plan: you could go down on each other, but actual sex, even quickies, would probably wake up the entire Piastri house and therefore not be allowed. And both of you followed it.

For an impressive total of three days.

To be fair, what were you supposed to do when he sauntered out of the back door in those swim shorts, thigh muscles spilling out and all? Not promptly fly out of the lounge chair by the pool, clasp a tight hand around his pale forearm, and shove him inside the vacant kitchen?

"Y/n, what are you doi—oh," Oscar breathes out as your fingers curl around the hem of his shorts, tugging them down with one swift motion and housing your bottom lip between your teeth when your hand barely covers the base of his half-hard dick. "Oh, fuck, baby, turn 'round f'me, can't be the only one naked, hm? Lemme see you."

Hips swerving, you bend down to rest your forearms on the cool surface of the kitchen counters. Oscar's hand is heavy, cupping the swell of your ass, spreading the cheeks apart, and squeezing the soft flesh; the anticipation thrums loudly in your veins and sends the arousal in your stomach to stir.

You whimper when he pushes your bikini to the side, cupping your drenched pussy, and you can't help yourself when your hips desperately hump against his digits and moan loudly. "Osc, please—fuck, just."

"Shush," Oscar leans, his heated back flush against yours as he mumurs. "Can't have anyone hearing us, can we?"

A pout graces itself on your face; you crane your neck to look at your boyfriend's family, all outside, laughing and chatting livelyly through the large opening on the kitchen wall. Not quite large enough to show what Osc was doing to you, but to allow the obscene sounds to flow through it and into his relatives ears.

He shoves his fingers inside your hot walls, unphased, when your loud yelp catches the attention of one of his aunts, who merely furrows her brow and turns back to her company. "Can. We?" he grits out, each word punctuated with a sharp thrust.

"N-no, no—fuckfuckfuckk, Osc," you cry, burying your head in your hands to unsuccessfully muffle your moans, far too loud for your liking, but the curl of Oscar's lips trailing down your neck tells you he feels otherwise.

"Hm," he says, placing a sweet kiss on your shoulder and trailing his hand up to your lips, nudging two fingers against the soft flesh and grinding his dick against your ass. "But y'can't even do that. D'you want m'cock or not?"

You splutter when he pulls his fingers out of your mouth, just enough for you to reply. "Yes, yesyesyes, 'do I do, miss y'cock so bad, Osc, fuck," you grind back against his fingers and squirm when the coil in your stomach is so close to bursting.

Oscar sucked in a breath when your desperate movements had you consequently humping his dick. Had you two really been foolish enough to believe you could resist each other for two weeks?

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craisinsensation1029 · 24 days

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Tri Harder

Suguru Geto & Satoru Gojo

originally posted on AO3 ♡⸜(˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝ im trying to stop being lazy and transfer more stuff lmao. saw challengers yesterday and it was pretty nice!! loved the tension

After an innocent party game, Geto & Gojo make it their mission to fuck you. That's it.

Ch 2 | Ch 3

fem reader, alcohol, making out, dry humping, vaginal fingering, stsg one braincell activities, NO ONE IS STRAIGHT

5.7k

MDNI

“Seven minutes in heaven? Really?” Geto asked, looking down at the brown liquid in his cup. He took a small sip, grimacing at the taste of the cheap beer. Perhaps he should have brought something from home. “Seems a bit juvenile, don’t you think?”

Gojo looked at the face Geto made when he swallowed, and decided not to fill his cup at all. “I’m not playing that,” Gojo affirmed, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I don’t give a fuck,” Shoko slurred as she took another swig of her drink. The girl was able to drink anything no matter how vile the taste was. She shoved Gojo and Geto down to the floor where everyone else already heeded her request. Well, more like they allowed her to believe her strength could physically move either of them. “It’s my birthday, this is my party, and we’re going to play what I want.”

“What’s next?” Gojo grumbled, trying to comfortably fit his proportions to sit Indian style in the space allotted. “Playing Duck, Duck, Goose?”

Shoko slapped the back of his head so hard his sunglasses flew off his face.

Utahime laughed wildly as he put them back on his face while Shoko had quickly moved on from the act of aggression, whipping her head around wildly.

“Something wrong, Shoko?” Utahime asked between fits of laughter.

She said your name as her eyes continued to scan the room. “I don’t want to start the game until everyone is here.” She glared at Geto and Gojo. “Everyone is playing, after all.”

“We’re playing, jeez. ” Gojo rolled his eyes, although no one would be able to see the act of irritation beneath the shades.

Geto however, always seemed to know what Gojo was doing even when he tried his best to conceal his actions. “Play nice, Satoru. I’m sure this won’t be an all night thing.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he groaned, but then perked up. He said your name questioningly, and looked over at Geto. “You know who that is?”

Geto cupped his chin with his thumb and index finger. “I think that’s one of Shoko’s med school friends.” He knew the name sounded familiar, but he never had a face to put with it. “I’m pretty sure she mentioned that they study for their classes together, or something like that.”

Before Gojo could respond, the doorbell rang, and Shoko was bounding for the door. Turning the deadbolt seemed to be incredibly difficult in her already drunken state, so Haibara rushed over to assist her.

Shoko squealed your name once the door was open, throwing her arms around your neck. “You’re here!”

“In the flesh,” you chuckled as you wrapped an arm around her back to give her a small hug. She unlatched herself from you so you had space to step inside. “Happy Birthday! And I brought drinks!” A large blue cooler was behind you, and you reached for the handle to wheel it inside.

“Yes!” Haibara pumped his fist excitedly. “I got it, don’t worry!”

“Yu,” you cooed, placing a hand briefly on his arm, “you will always have my heart.”

“My heart's always yours, you know that!” Haibara answered back excitedly.

Gojo strained his ears from the living room to hear what you and Haibara were discussing by the doorway, but he couldn’t quite make it out. It seemed that you two were familiar. He furrowed his brow and looked at Geto. “How does Yu know her when we’ve never met her?”

“Are we supposed to know everyone Shoko knows?” Geto deadpanned.

“Well if she’s hiding hot friends from us, I’ll be mad,” Gojo huffed. Geto paid him no mind.

Shoko was practically salivating at the sight of the unopened cooler. “What did you bring this time?”

You laughed easily and pointed toward the keg in the corner of the room. “Whatever isn’t in there. You know that cheap shit always gives me a headache.”

“Oh, shut up!” Shoko rolled her eyes. “But anyway, you’re just in time. We’re about to play some games!”

You walked with Shoko along with Haibara, wheeling the cooler behind him, from the doorway to the living room where everyone was seated and waiting.

Gojo looked up eagerly while Geto looked up much more discreetly to get a glimpse of you.

You had on a light purple, bustier lace crop top with the perfect amount of cleavage spilling over the top. Gojo’s eyes trailed hungrily while Geto’s trailed much more tastefully to see the smooth skin of your stomach, belly button adorned with a pink, rhinestone belly button ring. A pleated, denim skirt that was almost too short to be practical sat snugly on your hips and gave way to lush thighs.

“I want to go first,” Gojo said quickly, perking up in his seated position. “This is one of my favorite games, after all.”

If looks could kill, Gojo would be dead. Shoko pointed an accusing finger at him. “ You didn’t want to play, so you and Suguru can decide who’s going last. ”

“I never said that,” Gojo grumbled, shrinking back down.

“Shoko, how about you introduce us to your friend before we start?” Geto suggested smoothly, more so because he didn’t want to sit next to a brooding Gojo. “Well at least I know Gojo and I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting her yet.”

Shoko was already head deep in the cooler, popping back up with a hard seltzer. “Oh, yeah. I guess you haven’t met her.”

You gave Gojo and Geto a small smile along with a wave before saying your name. They introduced themselves as well, and you extended your hand. Geto gave it a soft shake while Gojo took the opportunity to kiss the skin on the top of your hand.

“Great, now you have the burn the skin off your hand,” Utahime grumbled, all but pulling you away from Gojo’s grasp so you could sit down next to her.

“Will I get leprosy if I don’t?” you laughed, opting to sit on your knees.

“Probably something worse.” You wondered why she had such disdain for Gojo, but the utter look of disgust on her face made you not even want to ask any further questions. That was their business.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you assured, patting her knee.

Shoko plopped down on Utahime’s other side, and Haibara pushed the cooler in the center of the circle where everyone sat.

“The drinks are for everyone,” you said cheerily. “Please, take whatever you would like! I brought tons.”

Gojo didn’t hesitate to open the cooler, getting a limeade flavored hard seltzer; Geto opted for a mango flavored one. Nanami, Haibara, Utahime, and Mei Mei all grabbed drinks as well, cracking them open simultaneously. Everyone clinked their cans together shouting, “Happy Birthday, Shoko!”

“Whoever chugs their drink the fastest gets to go first!” Shoko exclaimed.

“Wait, what are we playing?” you asked.

Gojo wasted no time in gulping down his beverage. Whatever game was going to be played, it looked like you weren’t going first.

Gojo slammed his empty can on the floor, beaming at his own victory. “Looks like I am going first,” he said pointedly at Shoko.

“Not like going first is going to make it land on the person you want, idiot,” Utahime deadpanned. She drained the rest of her can and crossed her arms over her chest. “But go ahead, let’s see if the power of suggestion is going to work in your favor.”

“ What are we playing?” you asked again. Everyone was busy gulping down their drinks and declaring what turn number they would have. You hadn’t even taken a sip of your drink yet.

Geto looked at you, a gentle smile on his face that made the corner of his eyes crinkle. “Good ol’ seven minutes in heaven.”

Gojo used a foot to push the cooler to the side and turned his empty can on its side. He gave it a spin, crossing his fingers behind his back and mentally chanting your name.

“Any day now, idiot!” Gojo hadn’t even realized he closed his eyes, but of course no one else would have been able to take notice beneath the obsidian of his shades.

Gojo opened his eyes, and couldn’t help the shit eating grin that crossed his face. The top of the can landed squarely on you. “Was someone talking shit about the power of suggestion?” He cupped his hand to ear, leaning in Utahime’s direction. “Hmm? I can’t seem to hear anything.”

Geto placed a hand on Gojo’s shoulder, pulling him back slightly. “Satoru, what did I say earlier about being nice?” he chided.

“You don't have to go in there with that vermin if you don’t want to,” Utahime assured, cupping your hand in hers. “He can just spin it again.”

Shoko’s head lolled on Utahime’s shoulder as she pointed toward a door in the corner of the room. “Over there,” she hiccuped. “Don’t fuck up anything in my closet.”

Haibara tapped something on his phone. “I’ll keep the time for you guys!”

“I’m a big girl, I think I’ll be okay,” you laughed. “But I promise I’ll scream if I need help, don’t you worry.”

Gojo took off his shades, folding them and placing them in his pocket. He extended a hand toward you, and you couldn’t help but gaze at the length of his legs clad in black jeans.Your eyes continued to trail up, admiring the way the black shirt he wore stretched across the taut muscles of his chest and shoulders. A perfect, dazzling smile graced his lips, and he must have known you would pause on those brilliant, blue eyes framed by icy lashes.

You took his hand and he easily hauled you up, hand on the small of your back as you walked a few feet to the closet.

Gojo opened the door, ushering you inside.

When he pulled in the door, even with the shroud of darkness it was evident the space was tight. Gojo’s hand patted the wall looking for a lightswitch, and opted to reach above him when he didn’t find it. He was successful when he found a string, pulling it to be illuminated by a pathetic excuse of a lightbulb.

The flickering bulb cast the tiny space in a yellow glow, revealing a clothing rack stuffed to the brim with clothes on hangers on one side of the wall. Boxes lined the opposite and back walls.

You took a small step back, and he took one forward. Your back hit the wall of boxes, and he made no motion to shy away from you. Instead he inched forward again, his minty, fresh scent invading your nostrils.

He placed a hand above your head and craned his neck to look down at you. His looks were truly a marvel. His complexion was completely free of any blemishes, and he had pink, plush lips. His azure eyes were reminiscent of magnificent Caribbean waters; relaxing, cool, calm, but every bit inviting and playful.

Gojo took the same time to look at you, appreciating how every feature fit your face perfectly. Eyes framed by long lashes, perfectly groomed eyebrows, a nose so cute he would pocket it if he could, and lips that he desperately wanted to sink his teeth into.

Your chest heaved against his as he snaked a finger into the belt loop of your skirt, pulling your hips snugly against his. He said your name in a low voice. “Tell me you’ll let me kiss you.”

“You can ki–”

He wasted no time bringing his lips down onto yours.

He pressed in closer, resting one of his legs between your parted ones as his lips moved insistently against yours. Not a sliver of space existed between your bodies, and if he gripped the loop he was holding onto any more tightly, it would have broken away from the rest of the fabric.

With him angling his head downwards and you tilting yours upwards, the shapes of your lips fit perfectly together. He was rough, uncaring about the frequent bump of your noses or the occasional grating of teeth scraping against each other.

His tongue traced the shape of your upper lip, then moved to do the same to your lower lip. You could still taste the limeade flavor of the seltzer he chugged down just moments before.

He bit down on your lower lip; the force was gentle enough to be arousing, but stung just enough to cause your lips to part on impact. You moaned against him at the feeling, one of your hands snaking around to grip the hair at the base of his neck.

“ Fuck, ” he groaned against your lips, moving the hand resting above your head to cup one of your breasts. He gave it an ample squeeze as his tongue pushed past your parted lips, exploring the inside of your mouth.

It was almost if he was aiming to consume you with the ferocity of his kiss, each movement more insistent than the last. His tongue stroked yours as the hand that gripped your breast started to move further down your body. His large hand cascaded down the dip of your waist that gave way to your hips. All the while, he continued massaging his tongue against yours, moaning into your mouth while he did.

Your other hand wrapped around his back, palm splayed while your fingers dug into the material of his shirt. He let out another groan, and you took the opportunity to slip your tongue between his parted lips. His hand trailed further down, palming the flesh of your ass.

You quickly moved your tongue against his, the kiss only growing rougher as he hastily dug his fingers into the flesh of your ass. You could feel him stiffening against you through the fabric of his jeans, and you moaned into his mouth. He used the hand that was gripping your belt loop and lifted the short fabric of your skirt, desperate to press his pelvis closer against you.

Your breath hitched as he rolled his hips against you once, and your breath got caught in your throat entirely when he rolled them against you again. “ Satoru, ” you gasped, countering him by sinking your teeth into his bottom lip. You followed this up by sucking his bottom lip into your mouth, and his moans vibrated through you.

He rolled his hips against you again, pulling his lips away from yours to start a trail of kisses down your neck. They mirrored the roughness of the kisses against your lips, and you couldn’t help the moans that were coming out of you. All you could do was hope they weren’t loud enough to be heard outside, or the others outside were making enough of their own noise to drown you out.

You lifted a leg, aching for more friction. You whimpered when he rolled his hips again, your fingers digging in deeper to keep the grip you had on him. “Shit,” he murmured, licking a lewd stripe from the base of your neck to the bottom of your ear. He repeated the same action on the other side of your neck, opting to suck your earlobe into his mouth while continuing to roll his hips against you.

You panted, matching his movements to roll your hips in time with his. He gripped your ass even harder, his breaths becoming out harsh against the skin of your neck.

“One minute left!” Haibara’s voice called from the other side of the door.

Gojo wanted to make his last minute with you count, he wanted you to remember him. He wanted you to wonder why Shoko never introduced the two of you before.

With one hand still gripping your ass, he used the other to grip your throat, ensuring you were eye level with him as he continued to rut his hips against yours. “If I had more than seven minutes with you, I’d have you coming ten times over,” he whispered against your lips. “I haven’t even shown you what my tongue is really capable of,” he chuckled with a final roll of his hips.

Your eyes widened at his words as he crushed his lips against yours a final time.

“Time’s up!” Haibara called.

Your chest was heaving as you and Gojo untangled your bodies from each other. Both of your faces were flushed and sporting a sheen of sweat. He adjusted your skirt, pulling the material back down and aligning it so it was centered.

You glanced at what was now a raging hard on before he adjusted himself. Luckily, he was wearing black, so it wasn’t terribly difficult to conceal.

“You two better come out, or I’m coming in there whether you're decent or not!” Haibara called again.

“Well, thanks.” You nodded at Gojo. “I’ll keep what you said in mind, maybe I’d like to see it one day,” you winked, reaching for the closet door.

You pushed the door open, finding it hard to conceal the smile on your face. Your world was practically rocked inside the closet, but nothing changed on the outside. Everyone was still drinking and making conversation; it appeared another round of chugging went down in your absence, evident by more empty cans on the floor.

You grabbed another drink as you returned to your seat next to Utahime before realizing you hadn’t even finished drinking the one you had before going in the closet. You chugged that one down before opening the new one.

“You okay?” Utahime asked. A lazily smile was on her face, but she still managed to point daggers in Gojo’s direction. “I’ll beat his ass, I swear on everything I will if he hurt you.”

“I'm perfect, I promise,” you giggled, taking a sip of your drink. You couldn’t help but throw a wink in Gojo’s direction, which he returned.

Shoko’s turn was next, and her spin landed on Utahime. They both returned from the closet giggling with flushed expressions.

Everyone else went, and you had the final spin since you were the last to finish chugging your drink. By now you were comfortably buzzed, and gave the can a spin with a laugh as you waited to see who it would land on.

It landed on Geto.

“I’ll beat his ass too!” Utahime slurred, leaning into Shoko. She couldn’t help but burst into a fit of giggles as Shoko was howling from her statement.

“I promise, that won’t be necessary,” Geto chuckled as he rose to his feet. Similar to Gojo, he offered you his hand. “Care to join me?”

He had an ethereal kind of beauty about him. His hair flowed his inky locks that reached the middle of his back with small bangs in the front and another small portion in a top knot. Small gauges plugged his ears, and he must have been the same height as Gojo. He wore dark denim jeans, and a faded university shirt stretched across his chest.

Your eyes couldn’t help but trail to the veins on his arms and how prominent his Adam's apple was.

Taking his hand, you made the familiar journey to the closet.

Haibara was making some joke with Nanami and Mei Mei, the task of being the timekeeper at this point seemingly forgotten. You shrugged, and slipped inside the closet as Geto held the door open.

The alcohol coursing through your veins made your memory a little fuzzy to remember who went in before you, but you were grateful that they left the light on.

Leaning back against the boxes on the back wall, a lazy smile danced across your face. “Suguru.”

He cocked his head to the side as a light laugh escaped from his lips. He said your name, his voice wrapping around you like a warm blanket. “What is it?”

You beckoned him closer with a finger. It took all of two steps before he was directly in front of you. “Can I touch your hair?”

“Yes,” he answered. He wasn’t expecting that request, but happily obliged.

He gently grabbed your wrist and ducked his head to give you better access to his tresses. You threaded your fingers through his hair; it was as soft and luxurious as silk.

Your fingers grazed his scalp from the base of his neck, and he couldn’t help but close his eyes. Geto normally wasn’t a fan of people he didn’t know touching his hair, hell, he couldn’t say he really let anyone touch it, but he couldn’t reject you. Not with the polite way you asked.

His assessment of your features was no different than Gojo’s; your looks were nothing less than outstanding, but there was more beneath that. Your looks exuded softness, but your eyes brimmed with desire. Maybe it was his own buzz that made him want to please you in any way possible. Your touch was delicate, and he wanted to know if there was anything else soft about you.

Geto placed a hand on your hip, his thumb rubbing small circles into the exposed skin. “Enjoying yourself?” he asked.

“I am,” you giggled, “but…”

“Hmm?” he questioned. “But what?”

“I don’t want you to take this the wrong way,” you gushed. “But I really want to kiss you.”

You didn’t need the liquid courage to admit that, but it definitely helped to speed up the process.

Geto lifted his head, and used his other hand to cup your chin, his thumb caressing the skin there. “I’m happy you said that, because I want to kiss you, too.” With that, he brought his lips to yours.

Geto’s lips felt like a warm caress against yours, his lavender scent wafting into your nostrils.

You closed your eyes as his lips moved leisurely against yours, movements unhurried as your lips massaged each other’s. The hand on your hip slowly trailed the side of your body as his hand caressed the skin of your stomach, igniting a flame in your core. He placed his other hand on the arch of your back, and you couldn’t help the whimper that escaped your lips at his embrace.

His large hands were soft and moved delicately across the expanse of your skin. His fingers dipped into every curve, sending shivers down your spine. Every movement of his hands seemed calculated, and oozed a level of sensuality you couldn’t even begin to explain.

His lips parted as his tongue ran along your bottom lip. You more than willingly parted your lips, and his tongue slipped inside your mouth. The movement was seamless as the hand on your back pulled you closer toward him, keeping every part of your bodies connected. One of your hands was still threading through his silky hair while the other snaked beneath the material of his shirt to feel his defined torso. Much like his hands, the skin there was soft and smooth, but there was no denying the definition of muscle.

He hummed into your mouth at your touch as the hand on your stomach began to sluice down the expanse of your thigh. His thumb expertly moved in circles while his remaining fingers gripped the flesh delicately. He continued the motion, his hand traveling from the top of your thigh to just above your knee. The hand was equal parts warm and encompassing.

You moaned softly against his mouth as the palm of his hand moved to the underside of your thigh. He gave it a gentle squeeze before lifting it, wrapping it around his waist. His hand remained under your thigh to keep it propped up, the flame ignited in your core before now a fire burning out of control. He pulled his lips away from yours for a brief movement at the small gasp you let out at the motion, a gentle laugh escaping from him. “Everything alright?”

“Perfect,” you breathed out, moving your hands to wrap both of them around his neck. You pressed your lips back to his, this time tracing the shape of his lips with your tongue. You gently nipped at his bottom lip and started to explore his mouth once he parted his lips.

You could feel him harden with every stroke of your tongue, and the motion of your bucking hips seemed involuntary. The gentle grip he had on your thigh became a hard squeeze with every movement of your hips; the hand on your back trailing further down to cup your ass. He squeezed the flesh in tune with the movement of your hips, but was still careful not to dig his fingers too deep into your skin.

You felt yourself panting into his mouth as the kiss continued, growing sloppier by the moment. The controlled movements of your lips before were nearly nonexistent as you grasped for any part of him that you could get.

“Keep your leg up,” he murmured against your lips. He removed the grip from your thigh and moved from your body just so he had enough space to snake his hand between your thighs. You hitched your leg higher up on his waist and he buried his head in your neck.

Geto couldn’t help but laugh to himself seeing the faint marks Gojo left on your neck. His friend never held back when it came to self indulgence. He couldn’t blame him, though. He would have done the same if he were in the same position.

Just as lady luck had been on Gojo’s side on his spin landing on you, it was just Geto’s luck that no one else had a turn with you. If Gojo was going to be your first impression, he was more than happy to be the last.

“Mhm, keep your leg right there, angel.” His velvety voice wrapped around you like a bow on a present, and you knew you would fold to whatever he requested.

He brushed the pad of his thumb over your clothed clit, eliciting an instant moan from you. His lips latched onto your neck as he brushed over your clit again, loving the sounds of your moans. “That feels good, doesn’t it?” he chuckled softly against your neck, letting his lips mark another spot into your skin.

“ Suguru, ” you whined.

“Hmm?” His thumb began to massage your clit in slow circles, and you felt yourself clench around nothing. He barely touched you and your body already felt greedy for more. Your arms latched even tighter around his neck as if you were a koala hugging a tree branch. “You like the way that feels? Something tells me that you do.”

You moaned again as he continued to massage your clit, his lips still working against your neck. By now you weren’t worried about anyone hearing, you were more than certain the game had been long forgotten by everyone else in attendance. Your hands tugged gently at his hair, producing a small groan from Geto.

“Let’s see just how much you like this.” His voice was muffled against your neck. You didn’t have a chance to respond before two slender fingers were pushing the fabric of your underwear aside, running over your slick center. “Quite a bit, it seems,” he mumbled, letting his fingers run over your heat again.

Geto could feel himself growing harder just knowing how wet you were; just imagining how you would feel enveloping his fingers, inviting him in. Perhaps he wasn’t very different from Gojo at all when it came to self indulgence. He kept his thumb firmly pressed against your clit as he slowly pushed his fingers inside of you.

You welcomed his fingers, clenching around them as you struggled to keep your leg in its lifted position. He let out a groan of satisfaction as he slowly plumped the digits in and out of you, taking his time to reach that spongy spot with each plunge of his fingers.

“Hey! Who’s keeping time!” Gojo’s voice sounded loudly beyond the closet door. “I’m sure it’s been more than seven minutes!”

“Should we– Ah! ” Geto’s fingers stayed plunged inside of you as he kept his fingers curled against your g-spot.

Erection pressed firmly against your grounded thigh, he paid Gojo’s voice no mind as his thumb pressed harder against your clit. “Just focus on me, angel. They’re fine out there.”

His voice was dizzying as his fingers worked on the continuous ministrations of stimulating your clit and g-spot. Your breaths were coming out in harsh pants and your thigh was aching, but you were determined to keep it upright as you felt yourself coming closer to orgasm.

“You’re so close,” he murmured. “You’re going to come for me, aren’t you?”

“Yes, ye–”

“Don’t tell me you’re all just going to ignore me.” Geto’s fingers moved quicker. “Fine. I’m telling them to get the fuck out.”

One final motion, and you drenched his fingers, the excess dripping down your thighs and soaking the crotch of your underwear.

You barely had a moment to catch your breath before the closet door swung open. You hastily put your leg down while Geto made no movement.

“Satoru.” His voice was light, almost playful. His fingers were still inside of you, hand now sandwiched between your thighs. He pulled them out slowly before removing his head from the crook of your neck, turning it to face Gojo. “Is something wrong?”

“Hm, I don’t know,” Gojo groaned. “Maybe the fact that the game is called seven minutes in heaven and you guys have been in here for hours. ”

“I see.” He whipped his head back around and removed his other hand from the grip it had on your ass as he took a step back. “Didn’t mean to break any rules, of course. We’ll be out in a moment.”

Gojo closed the closet door with a huff, and you released a breath you hadn’t even realized you were holding.

“Was he… upset?” He wouldn’t have a reason to be, would he? This was just a silly little party game after all.

A small smile crept onto Geto’s face. “Not at all.” The corners of his eyes crinkled. “Don’t you worry about a thing, angel. He’s perfectly fine.”

You breathed a sigh of relief, focus now shifted to your still trembling legs. You straightened your skirt and gave Geto a sheepish smile. “That was… fun. Thanks.”

“Thank you. ” A small smirk danced over his lips as he adjusted him, striding over to the door. He opened it, gesturing for you to step out first.

Gojo was already sitting back down, poking fun at a now very drunk Shoko. Utahime was trying to tell, or rather scold him about something, but she was just as trashed, none of her words the least bit intelligible.

You couldn’t help but laugh as you rejoined them, going for another drink yourself. You wondered how long you were actually in the closet with Geto, but paid it no mind as you enjoyed the rest of the night.

A few hours later, Haibara, Nanami, Mei Mei, Gojo, and Geto started making their way out. Shoko and Utahime were already fast asleep on the couch, and you decided to sleep over. They would probably need to be nursed back to health in the morning.

“Does anybody need help calling an Uber or anything?” you asked.

“Already called one for Yu and I,” Nanami answered. “Should be here in a few minutes.”

“My brother is going to pick me up,” Mei Mei responded.

You nodded at both of them and looked toward Geto and Gojo.

“We don’t live too far, we’re good to walk home,” Geto answered, seemingly for himself and Gojo.

Nanami, Haibara, and Mei Mei all got into their respective rides, leaving the tall pair of friends left.

You flashed them both a smile as you walked them to the door. “It was great meeting both of you.” A part of you felt like you should have been swimming in some kind of guilt, but you were really swelling with pride. They were both too attractive for their own good, and surely they knew that. “I hope we get to see each other again, sometime.”

“I’m sure we will,” Gojo assured, a sly smile playing on his lips.

“Good night, angel.”

They made their way out the door, and you locked it behind them.

Gojo shoved his hands in his pockets as he and Geto began the short walk back to their apartment. Only lamp posts and the occasional passing car provided any illumination.

“I’m mad.”

“Oh?” Geto questioned.

“Shoko hid a hot friend from us.”

Light laughter escaped from Geto’s lips. “That, she did.”

Gojo stopped his pace, turning to look at Geto. “So what did you guys do?”

Geto laced his fingers, lazily placing them behind his head as he stopped as well to look at Gojo. “I could ask the same, but I already know you went all Dracula on her neck.”

Gojo scoffed. “Well unlike someone, I was adhering to the time limit.”

“Not my fault no one wanted to keep time anymore when it was her turn,” Geto shrugged in response. “I was just making her feel good, that’s all.”

A white eyebrow cocked. “Did you make her come?”

Another shrug from Geto. “I had the time to, why wouldn’t I?”

“ What? ” A pout formed on Gojo’s lips. “That’s not even fair!”

Geto unlaced his fingers from his head and waved the two fingers that were inside of you in front of Gojo’s face. “If you get close enough, maybe you can still smell her.” He wiggled his fingers again. “You can even lick them, if you want.”

Blue eyes turned into icy slits. “What am I, a dog? ” He took a step closer and smelled the offered fingers anyway. “And angel? What the fuck was that all about?”

“Cute lil’ nickname.” He shrugged again. “Just seemed fitting at the moment.”

Gojo groaned and threw his head back. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“We’re literally never thinking the same thing,” Geto deadpanned.

Blue eyes threatened to get stuck in the back of Gojo’s skull from how hard he rolled them. “Whatever. I say we go for it.”

“Hmm.” Geto nodded thoughtfully. “I guess this is a rare occurrence where we are sharing a brain cell.” He tapped his chin. “Think she’d want to?”

Gojo threw his arms around his best friend’s shoulder. “Oh, come on. It’s us. Not a chance the answer is no.”

ill upload ch 2 and 3 later lmao

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idleoblivion · 11 days

Text

"Yes, Professor" Crewel x GN Reader

Synopsis: The allowance Crowley gives you just isn’t enough. Maybe you can convince your alchemy professor to assist you somehow…

Word count: 1.5k

A/N: Literally the first smut I've ever written so I'm so nervous to post this, I don't know what possessed me to write this but here we are lol.

Warnings: Teacher/student relationship, gn reader, shy/nervous reader, semi-public sex, mutual masturbation, dirty talk, unprotected sex, overuse of the word 'puppy'

You knock on the door to his office three times and hear shuffling for a moment on the other side.

“Come in.”

You open it and take a few steps in before spotting him at his desk. Divus Crewel, your alchemy professor, as he sorts through a stack of what you assume are the lab reports you turned in earlier that day. He stops what he’s doing and motions you to a chair in front of his desk.

“You said you wanted to speak to me, yes? I hope you weren’t lying about it being important.”

You swallowed and tried to straighten your posture as you sat down. “No, I wasn’t. Thank you for meeting with me.”

He looks you over and you feel your resolve weakening. Maybe this really wasn’t a good idea after all.

Crewel meets your eyes expectantly. “Well, what is it then?”

You can barely continue to make eye contact with how tight your chest feels with anxiety. You play with your hands anxiously in your lap. After a few seconds of silence, he continues.

“I don’t have all evening, pup. Tell me what you’re here for, quickly.” His tone became more sharp, prompting you to nervously begin.

“So you know, about my…. um, living situation and uh, money… I, uh, I don’t really have a lot and m-my clothes and uniform are a wreck, and…. and my friends talk about seeing movies and going out but I-“

“Puppy,” he interrupts you, “I am aware of your circumstances. However, I am also aware that the headmaster does supply you a small allowance for food and clothes, even if they may be….” He stops himself from finishing his sentence as he looks at your uniform on you. “Never mind. I won’t lie and say I feel no sympathy for you, but if you’re about to ask me to start funding you as well, the answer is no. I could not allow myself to freely spoil every puppy who is less fortunate in my class.”

“I…well, I-“ you stutter, but will yourself to continue, “I didn’t say it would be for free.” The last part barely comes out as a whisper, but the look on his face tells you he heard it well. You shift in your seat at his change in expression.

“Oh? Well, it still wouldn’t be considered appropriate of me to take bribes or favors from students, but…” he trails off for a moment, and you notice an increasing intensity in his gaze, “I suppose I can hear you out.”

If you were anxious before, you were almost panicky now. You hadn’t expected to actually get this far, for him to actually consider your offer and not just scold or report you, but you couldn’t deny the building excitement inside you either.

“If… if you help me, I’ll, um… well, uh, what would you want me to do?” Struggling to find the confidence yourself, you try to make him spell it out, but he must realize what you’re doing as his smirk only grows.

“I think you had something in mind to offer me, puppy, and if you really want my help you’re going to have to say it.” He stands up and removes his oversized fur coat and lays it on his chair behind him. “That’s an order, from your master. Tell me what you’ll do for me.”

He leans over his desk, looking at you smugly. Part of you wonders if he knew this is where your conversation would head, but you quickly disperse that thought and stand up yourself.

“…Anything. Anything you want, I’ll do it.” You hesitantly step towards his desk and lean in.

He laughs lightly under his breath, then looks back at you.

“We’re just going in circles, aren’t we? Alright, puppy, I’ll be generous today and help you. Come here.”

You walk around the desk to stand in front of him directly. His gloved hand comes up to your face and holds your jaw gently. He leans down some, and speaks to you in a low voice.

“You know, there’s that Al-Asim boy and Kingscholar, among others, who have plenty of wealth to throw around at this school. So, what brought you to my office and not their dorms, puppy? If you can say that, I’ll give you a reward.”

His hand on your face forces you to keep looking at him. You take one more deep breath before quietly answering.

“I…I want you. Not them. You.”

He smiles at that and gives you a quick peck on the forehead. “Good puppy. Now sit on my desk.”

You lift yourself onto his desk and he walks forward, caging you in with his arms. He leans down and kisses you gently at first. Just his lips on yours has your body burning up as you wrap your arms around him. You let him slip his tongue in and he groans into your heated kiss.

“You know,” he pauses and takes a step back, “I think I’ve still let you get your way too easily.” He pulls his desk chair back up and sits down while removing his gloves. “So, be a good puppy and get rid of these.” He grabs and tugs on the pants of your uniform.

You feel your face get even hotter but comply, taking them off with your underwear and tossing them to the floor. You instinctively try and keep your legs shut, but he tsks at you and pries them open.

He bites his lip as he looks at you, then meets your eyes with a predatory look. “Touch yourself for me.”

You begin slowly, nervous and self-conscious under his stare, but the bulge straining against his pants tells you you have no reason to be. You try to look away from him but he calls your attention back immediately.

“Eyes on me. That’s an order.”

You hesitantly obey and fix your gaze back on him. He undoes his belt and frees his cock from his pants. Your hands slow as you watch him intently.

“I didn’t tell you to stop, puppy. Keep going.”

You’re both touching yourselves now, his eyes following every desperate movement of your fingers as you get more and more aroused. Watching him stroke himself to the sight of you adds to your embarrassment and pleasure. You bite your lip to stifle your voice.

“Puppy, you want to me to fuck you?”

You’re ashamed of the whimper you let you out when he says it, but nod vigorously anyway.

“Say it.”

“Yes professor, please fuck me.”

“Stop then. Hold your legs open for me.”

You obey and he walks back over to you. He kisses you again, deep and passionate while he undoes the tie of your uniform and opens your shirt. He gently pulls it off of you before his hands come up to grope your chest.

He pulls your hips closer to the edge, and you can feel him start teasing you with the head of his cock. You bury your face in his shoulder as he starts inching himself into you. You moan feeling yourself stretch for him. He grunted as he bottomed out in you, then held still for a moment.

He pulls you back away from his shoulder to look at you, and smirks at your lustful, blissed out face. He gives you no further warning before he starts moving, feeling you clutch onto him as he thrusts.

You can no longer stop yourself from moaning loudly, with how deep he feels inside you and him nipping at your neck while his hips never slow or stop, he fucks you steady and hard.

“Look at you, getting so loud. Is it good, puppy? You like it?”

“Ah- yes, yes professor, so good I-“

You nearly squeal as a particular thrust leaves you reeling, and he moans as he feels you tighten around him. He sped up, fucking you faster and harder until you felt tears welling up in your eyes.

“Crying for me, puppy?” He smiled and licked a tear that had fallen down your cheek. The pressure building inside you was getting to be too much.

“Professor, p-professor I’m-“ you gasped as he bit you on the shoulder and grabbed your hips roughly.

“Cum for me, puppy. You can do it, be good for me.”

With a wail, your orgasm hit you hard, making you keel over and grab onto Crewel for support. Your body was on fire and he didn’t stop for a moment, he just kept holding your hips with a tight grip you while he pounded into you harshly. He cursed under his breath, praising you in your ear as he chased his own release.

“Fuck puppy I’m close, take it, fuck-“

He finally releases and you feel his cock twitch as he cums inside you. The warm feeling has you softly moan again, despite how absolutely exhausted your body was.

You both took a few moments to finish coming down from your highs. He makes you look at him again, and smirks at how fucked out you look.

“So, we’ll get you some new clothes this weekend, puppy? That sound good?”

You tiredly nod, and he kisses you again.

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst smut #twisted wonderland smut #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #divus crewel #twst crewel #twst x gn reader #disney twisted wonderland #twst divus

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tainted-liquor · 9 months

Text

'I Have A Girlfriend! ₊‧.°

Post-Anesthesia!Miles Morales x BlackFem!Reader ᧔᧓Ingredients: Crack, kisses, and a lil bit of smiles! zᶻ∘⋆TWs: Menace Miles, N-word usage, Cussing, Jeff abuse, me brushing up on Spanish ⁺˚⋆W/C: 1k! ♡⸝⸝A/N: Crackfic abt post-op Miles 😝 I spent 20 minutes trying to get tumblr to work on my fuhkin computer. No images but dividers idc

"Miles, Put your tongue back in your mouth!" Mrs. Morales urged as she pulled him back on the couch. "Ay, Dios! ¿Cuándo te poniste tan pesado?" She huffed, flopping back on the couch. Miles didn't answer, groaning in frustration as he slid halfway down the sofa in protest. "MamiiiiiiiiiI!" He whined in a shrill voice, gauze muffling his every syllable. "Yes, Miles? What is it now?" Mama Rio asked, her tone laced with amused irritation.

"Dónde está mi novia?" He muttered as the top of his head smushed against the glazed hardwood floor. "She's on her way Miles, calm down you're not supposed to talk too much…MILES! NO NO NO!" She urged as she watched her son attempt to spit out the bloody gauze tucked into the back of his mouth. There were three soft knocks at the Morales's door, with Mama Rio sighing in relief as she opened the door to reveal your smiling face, your eyes widening as you heard Miles's low groans of disproval in the background. "Hi, Mrs. Morales! Is he…okay?" You asked quietly, peering your head through the front door as you watched Miles inch slowly off of the sofa. "Hey, sweetie! Oh don't worry about him he's…being dramatic…" she trailed off, slowly gazing at her son who was now folded in half on the floor.

She giggled quietly, stepping to the side as she permitted you entry into her warm and inviting home. You made a B-line for Miles, scooping the liquid boy up under his arms and laying him back on the couch. "Hey, my love! How are you-…Aht! Nigga!?" you began, eyes widening in shock as he shushes you, grabbing your face in his entire hand as he barely held his eyes open. "No! I…Have a girlfriend!" he slurs, doing a half-crunch to be eye level with you as he attempts to make eye contact. You laughed quietly, gently easing him back to his resting position. "I am your girlfriend!" You chuckled, watching as his eyes widened as wide as the anesthesia would allow them to.

"Muñequita! Te amo tan mucho…" He exclaimed, engulfing you in a surprisingly lethal hug that left you tapping his forearm for release. You nodded avidly, loosening his arm slightly so you could comfortably breathe before slipping away from his grasp to go help Mama Rio with some household chores. You spent around 20 minutes making small talk with her, talking about how his procedure went, how long it would take to recover, and a bit about how much of a fool he was acting just minutes before your arrival. You giggled as you gossiped like school girls, perking up when you heard the front door swing open. "Oh, Hello Mr. Morales!" You greeted, waving a hand energetically from the kitchen sink.

"Hey! Thanks for coming to check on…Miles." He begins, head slowly turning towards his son who was now face down and completely on the floor. He was babbling absolute nonsense, singing songs in the completely wrong key to keep himself distracted as he attempted to find his footing. You rushed over to him, Mama Rio holding up her camera and covering her mouth to silence any giggles that threatened to break free. "C'mon, Vamos a recuperarte…that's it…" You grunted, lifting a very zooted Miles off the ground, knees buckling as he leaned his head on your shoulder and rested every pound of his body weight against you. You gasped, nearly falling over before Jeff quickly grabbed Miles, attempting to throw him over his shoulder and get him to his room. Everyone fell silent as a loud *pop!* noise was heard, Rio laughing as loudly as humanly possible while Jeff winced in slight pain. Miles put all his strength possible into popping his father, remaining groggy and unafraid as he gave his father a sleepy but stern glare. "Who the FUCK are you nigga?" he garbled, feet dangling in the air as Jeff held him up under his arms just above his head. He gave him the most livid glare that would've sent sober Miles into a coma, sighing and shaking his head as he mumbled to himself. "Yeah, that's it alright. Grounded for TWO MONTHS!" You lost all composure, wheezing and cackling on the floor as you watched Jeff angrily swaddle Miles in his hoodie, tying the sleeves of the red cotton together in a makeshift way to make sure his arms didn't move again.

You and Rio struggled to find your air as Jeff threw him down onto the couch, wrapping two blankets underneath the cushion and around Miles to hold him in place. Miles cried loudly, screaming as his life depended on it as his father put his hands on his hips, giving him one final glare, and walking away. You struggled to breathe as you got up and patted Miles's head, hooting and hollering as you wiped the remnants of tears from your waterline. You were just about to calm down, taking deep breaths as you stabilized your lungs. "Oh, hey, Kitty!" you cooed, glancing over at the family cat as he jumped up on Miles's chest. Miles squinted at the small ginger cat, taking it in for about 10 seconds before screaming. "WOAH WOAH WOAH WHATS WRONG!?" You asked, watching as Miles's face contorted into one of genuine horror. The cat was now long gone, swishing off into the hallway to take several deep bites of food. Miles was still screaming, babbling incoherently about some sort of 'overgrown rat' being on his chest. You lost it once more, head and chest throbbing as you laughed yourself into hysteria. You cuddled up by your boyfriend, shushing him through tears as you peppered gentle kisses to the side of his face. "Miles! Calm down, okay? It's literally your cat!" You giggled, patting his face gently as he squirmed in the makeshift straight jacket his father put him in. After calming him down and getting him to drink some water you noticed him begin to mellow out, holding him close to you as you slowly silenced him to sleep.

"C'mon, shut the mouth…No-No, don't spit out your gauze we'll change that later. I love you, Miles!" "Bleh."

#atsv #across the spiderverse #into the spiderverse #miles morales x reader #miles morales #earth 1610 miles morales x reader #menace miles #miles is 1610 #miles morales 1610 #1610 miles x reader #spiderman 1610 #earth 1610 miles fluff

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spidybaby · 10 months

Note

Wenassss.... Can I request something? Maybe just having a nice evening with his parents and brother while Pedri is being soft with you in front of them and they just love you and your guys relationship? Pleaseeee

It's okay if you don't want to do it, I'm just in need of fluffly Pedri, I'm having some mean cramps and I cant think of anything else but this🥴 also take your time, ten un buen dia/tarde/noche.

Baecation

Summary: Your boyfriend family loves the way your relationship is, always taking care of each other.

Warnings: none ❤️

A/N: Ay mami, I was supposed to post this a few days (weeks) ago, but I hope you're good and don't have cramps anymore. Btw sorry, I was MIA but now I'm not 💋 also special thanks yo my girl @gaviandgrizisgirl luv u 💛

"If you can be an animal for a day, what animal would you be?" You ask Pedro, you're drinking a piña colada while Pedro is drinking a strawberry drink. "I would be a shrimp."

"A shrimp?" Pedro laughs, he thought you would answer with a dolphin, an elephant, or even with a butterfly. Not a shrimp.

You nod, laughing at his confused expression.

You both are in Tenerife enjoying vacation. Well, you're enjoying vacation, Pedri is recovering and training for the pre season and the US Tour.

"Yes, my friend," you say, sticking your tongue out. He kisses your temple, thinking that maybe that piña colada is hitting. "So, you would be what?"

"I, my friend," he says, making fun of the way you call him friend. "Would be a."

"A donkey." Fer scream from the pool. Adrian and Paula laughed, and Pedri gave him the finger. "It was funny, admit it."

"You'll be the most cute donkey." You grab his hand, kissing it multiple times. "Fer would be a cookroach. Those are ugly just like him."

They all erupt in laughs. That piña colada was definitely hitting. "Oh, preciosa, you're the best." He pulls you to him, hugging you and kissing your temple.

"That was mean." Fer says. He loves making Pedro mad, even tho he wasn't the easiest to make mad. Pedro has this soft spot for him.

"It kind of was." Adrian joins the conversation, "but you were a bitch, Fercito." He hit Fer in the head and goes back to Paula, his girlfriend.

"I was mean," you admit. "I'm sorry, Fer. I think you would be a killer whale." You say. He thinks about it for a while and smiles happy about it.

"And you, golden boy." You bop his nose with every word. "You would be a panther." You joke knowing that since he saw Black Panther II, he mentioned he wanted a panther.

He shakes his head, laughing at how you can remember everything. "Would you be a panther with me, or would you be the shrimp on my plate?" He asks, lips on your neck.

"Noup, still a shrimp." You say, making him laugh even harder.

Fer looks at you, smiling. He's happy for his brother because he found somebody who loves him and cares for him. He knows your relationship is a healthy one.

"Pedro, those drinks are allowed for you?" Fer asks, since he's the chef for his brother, he knows the diet and restrictions Pedro has.

"I'm going to get one more drink, and I'm done." Pedro says, even tho he wasn't drinking alcohol like the rest, he was drinking more sugar than what he was supposed to.

"Let me go get you that." You say, stopping him from getting up. He kisses your cheek, thanking you for doing that.

You walk inside the house, finding Rosy and Fernando talking and helping each other with the making of dinner for everyone.

"Hi, do you guys need any help over here?" You place the empty cup, grabbing the strawberry mix and pouring more for your boyfriend.

"No, mija, you can go back. We're fine here." Fernando says, cutting some vegetables.

"Are you sure?" You ask again. "Let me take this to Pedro and I'll be back to help you."

Even they tell you that it's okay, you know they need some help. You grab the cup back and walk outside.

"Gracias, preciosa." He says, grabbing the cup. "Come sit, I want to show you something."

You shake your head no. "I'm going to help your parents in the kitchen, show me later?" Your hand in his hair, caressing his brown locks.

He nods, and you go back inside. Rosy and Fernando are talking about a new thing for the tasca. "I'm back, let me help you with the dip."

You chat with them for a while, they ask you about your classes and about your family. "Tell your mother I want that cake recipe."

When you met the González López you brought a cookie dough cheesecake. Rosy fell in love with it, well they all did.

"I can make it. We can get the things tomorrow and prepare it." You suggest, cooking with him was one of your favorite things. She taught you so much, and you were happy to bond with her with that. "Pedro might hate us for preparing it while he's on a diet."

In that moment, Pedro joined the three of you. "And what exactly are you making?" He asks, curious.

"No seas chismoso." Fernando laughs, patting his son back. "Venga, entra ya que iré a llamar a los demás." (Don't be noisy, get inside, I'm calling the rest.)

He walks over you, you're finishing a dressing for his salad, he grabs your waist, positioning himself behind you, kissing your shoulder. "What is that?"

You explain all the dishes you helped Rosy prepare, and explain to him about the salad and dressing you saw on tik tok. It was good because it didn't break any of his diet rules.

Rosy paid attention to the too of you, loving how you cared so much about him to the point of remembering what can and can't he eat.

"And this chicken is made specially for you, it's less greassy for your salad." You finish explaining. Pedro, thank you and help setting the table.

Fer, Adrian and Paula walk inside, laughing at some joke Fernando told them. They went to change since they couldn't sit with wet clothes at the table.

In the end, Adrian and Paula ended up leaving. They were invited to dinner by Paula's family.

"I can't believe it." Fer says, acting hurt. "You're trying to take away my position as mom's helper."

You all laugh at how he says it. "Well, she's a really good helper and doesn't change the recipe." Rosy defends you.

"Plus," Fernando adds. "She's doesn't complain about chopping the vegetables."

"Es que ella es simplemente especial." Pedro, kiss your cheek. Making you blush. "Nadie como ella." (She's just simply special. Nobody like her.)

To you, it was still new the whole affection in front of his family, but to him, it wasn't. His parents were like that. Even his brother and his girlfriend were like that. You weren't as used to due to your family not being this affectionate with one another.

To them, you shouldn't be ashamed. They know how much Pedro loves you, always saying how special you're and how he's so in love.

Rosy and Fernando love the way you're with him, and obviously are proud that they raised a gentleman.

"I have to take care of you." You say as you pinch his cheek. "Now eat you salad."

"It's so unfair you guys have amazing meals, and I have pure salad and chicken." He says, even tho he's very disciplined with this diet and exercise, he's getting tired of seeing you all enjoying these amazing meals.

He told you that before, how sometimes he just wants to get a burger and some French fries, but he's focused on his goals to give up like that.

"Here, let's share some salad so you won't eat alone." You push the food Rosy prepared and grab a new plate to serve yourself salad and chicken just like him. "You see? Yummy."

The look Fernando and Rosy share is a surprise one, because not even them as his parents thought about doing that, not in a bad way, they always supported him in every way, but food is food.

"You must love this idiot a lot because I know you didn't just reject this whole delicious meal for that salad." Fer jokes. Making you laugh.

"We're a team, right preciosa?" Pedro ask you. Elevating his hand for you to high-five him.

"We are." You high-five him. Making his parents stare at you like aw. "Your mom and I are making a cookie dough cheesecake." You say to him.

The expression he has is a funny one. He can remember the taste and hate that he will not be able to eat it. "So unfair."

"I want to know." Fernando asks, looking at Fer and then at Pedro. "Which one of you is going to do the dishes?"

"Not me, I did them last night." Pedro says, lifting his hands. "It's his turn."

"I hate you. At the end you'll help me." Fer says, throwing a piece of bread at him. After that, the talk turned out about what's next for Pedro, the tour, the season.

You were about to help Fer with the table, but Rosy stopped you, telling you that you already helped enough in the kitchen.

She dismissed you, telling her son to take you away from the kitchen. "Vamos, tengo que mostrarte algo." He says, walking you both back to his room. (C'mon, I got to show you something)

You sit criss-cross on his bed. He did the same and pulled out his phone, "Look." He hands you some texts between Xavi and him about how you can go with him to the US Tour.

"No way." You say hugging him. "Pedro, no way."

The smile he has while looking at you all excited for going to the tour with his is one that can light up the whole sky.

"Es que eres increíble, gracias." You hug him again, laying on his lap and kissing his whole face. (You're so amazing, thank you)

"Everything for you." He says, kissing you back.

He knows you're not that used to public affection. Specifically around family, he remembers that one time you push him away because your little cousin walked into the kitchen.

The kissing session became more heated than expected. He was now on top of you, an unbuttoned shirt, and the straps from your blouse being down your shoulders are just the beginning.

His hands travel around your body, grabbing everywhere he can. "Eres hermosa." He humms before attacking your neck with his lips.

You try your best to silence the moans, not wanting his family to find out what you're doing. But the way he was touching and kissing you made it almost impossible.

Your nails scratch lightly on his shoulders, his shirt is on the floor now. It's now your turn to tease him. Kissing that soft spot that makes him crazy. "You have to be quiet, mi amor." You say.

His lips on you to silence the two of you. While your hands go to unbutton his shorts, his hands are pulling your shirt out of your head.

But three knocks on the door make the two of you jump scared. "Si?" Pedro is the one who talks.

"Mom and I want to show you guys something." His father says, "meet us downstairs."

Your heart is beating so fast that you feel like passing out. "We're so not doing this again." You say, walking to the bathroom to fix your clothes. "You need to fix yourself, Pedro." He buff, angry at the interruption.

Once you both calm down, you make your way to the living room where his parents are. "Did you call us?"

"Vengan, tengo unas fotos para mostrar." Rosy says, making room for you on the couch. "This is an old pic from our vacation." (Come here, I have some pictures to show)

You look at the pictures, finding them adorable. Both Pedro and Fer were so little and so adorable. "Back to the time when you used to listen to your parents." You joke looking at Fer.

Fernando laughs and gives you the reason. "Es que ere joyita, hijo. Hasta ella lo sabe." (You're something else, son. Even she knows it)

You love it when they share their memories with you. It makes the moments you spend with them so special.

"When we get time, we have to go print the pictures we took these days." Fernando says to Pedro. "We have to add them to the album."

"You'll have your first appearance in the album." Rosy tells you. "Don't repeat this, but Celine cried when she got into the album."

She whispers this so Fer couldn't hear it. Celine was Fer's girlfriend. She was so special and so lovely with all of them, even with you.

You're thankful for all the love they give you, always making you feel like one of them. "I'm so excited for my first picture on this album."

"Nothing to thank us, niña. We are the ones who had to thank you. For being always so special with our boy." Fernando says as he messed Pedro's hair.

"That's true. Thank you for loving our son so much." Rosy hugs you. "We know he can be a whole lot sometimes."

"Hey, don't give me a bad reputation." Pedro laughs. You grab his hand. Happy that you find your way with someone like him.

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rookieloveskashi · 12 days

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contents: fluff, post-war arc canon, pregnant reader, reader and kakashi are married and already have four children (if it isn't obvious yes i want to give him a baseball team), selfship-coded. wc: 0.7k

happy mother's day (or just normal sunday) to everyone 💕

“Papa.”

Kakashi made a big show of ignoring the little whisper, comfortably sighing and rubbing his face into his pillow. Two tiny hands pressed into his shoulder and started violently shaking.

“Papa!”

You suppressed a giggle and pretended like you were still fast asleep. Kakashi quietly exhaled the laughter caught in his throat before turning and looking into the expectant eyes of his three-year-old son.

“Yes, Obi—”

“SHHHHH!” The boy stared down at him with more exasperation than such a tiny face should be able to muster. “Don’t wake up Mama.”

Kakashi happened to know that you were wide awake, still fighting the belly laughs that would give you away. Beneath the blanket, you curled your fingers around his forearm to stabilize yourself.

“Why should I be awake when your mother is allowed to sleep?” Kakashi whispered to his son.

The boy rolled his eyes and sighed in a perfect recreation of Kakashi’s own younger self. “Becaaauuusee.”

Another little voice piped up from beside the bed. “It’s Mother’s Day.”

“We want to make breakfast for Mama,” a third voice chimed in.

Kakashi contorted himself just enough to see two more of his miniature self peeking over the edge of the bed, all messy silver hair and dark eyes.

Seems they planned a joint attack.

“Oh, that’s so nice of you,” he answered, dramatically yawning and snuggling back into you; his face tucked into your neck and his hand cradling your belly. “Well, you know where the kitchen is.”

Two little hands grabbed Kakashi’s face and forced him to turn away from you. Then he felt his son’s tiny uncoordinated baby fingers prying his left eye open. “Papa!”

“We need your help!”

“There’s three of you and only one of me,” Kakashi reasoned. “I would only get in your way.”

“We can’t use the stove!”

“Mmmm that does pose a problem.”

“Are you getting up or not?!”

The boys were making enough noise to wake the whole village. Kakashi couldn’t help but smile at the way they already embodied teamwork, if only to get their lazy dad out of bed. “Tell you what, let me go check on your baby sister, and then I’ll meet you three in the kitchen.”

“Okay!” the triplets answered in chorus before rushing out of the room in a thunder of tiny pattering feet (and hands; an interesting result of sometimes using ninja hounds as babysitters).

With the coast clear, you let out a few giggles as you turned over to face Kakashi. “Good morning,” you beamed.

Kakashi hummed and kissed the tip of your nose. “Didn’t you hear? You’re supposed to be sleeping.”

“Like that was gonna happen,” you laughed.

“We’re going to have to work on their stealth skills.” Kakashi pulled you in for a proper kiss, enjoying the warmth of your body for a few more moments before rolling out of bed. “Maybe you can fall asleep again before they come back.”

“No way! I’m too excited to see what they have in mind. Go on; don’t keep them waiting.”

Kakashi rolled his eyes, taking an extra minute to kiss your slightly swollen tummy before finally getting out of bed to chase after his sons.

Just as you were starting to worry that the breakfast had become more of a chore than your husband could handle, Kakashi pushed open the door—your infant daughter in one arm and two plates balanced on the other.

“Mama! You’re already awake!”

“Did Papa wake you up?!”

“No, ‘Kumo. I just woke up a minute ago,” you grinned.

The triplets climbed into bed and surrounded you, all but ignoring their father’s warnings to avoid crawling over your stomach. Once they were settled, Kakashi placed your daughter in your arms so she could be fed.

“There’s no room for your plate,” he laughed.

“I’ll feed you, Mama!”

“No, me!”

“I counted the strawberries!”

“Well I stirred up the eggs!”

“But I picked the plate!”

“You’ll have to take turns,” Kakashi interjected, patting each boy on the head to calm them down. They each quickly scooped up a bite of food, racing to see who would be ready first.

Kakashi’s eyes drooped with exhaustion, but the contentment he truly felt at the scene was written all over his face. Then he looked at you, and that contentment morphed into pure joy.

“Happy mother’s day, Y/N.”

#kakashi x reader #kakashi fluff #cw children #cw pregnancy #he has a breeding kink and i have no self control #kakashi x reader fluff #kakaly lore #adventures of the tiny rivals #rookie wrote #cw mother's day

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damiansgoodgirll · 19 days

Note

can you please write an Damian Priest X Fem Reader Story where Reader was in a toxic relationship and Damian helps her with the trauma from the past?!

damian priest x reader

likes, comments and reblogs are always welcomed!!

‼️ mention of past abusive relationship, damian being a softie , mention of verbal abuse and violence

behind closed doors

you’ve been in love before but you had no idea how it feels being loved.

you were in a happy relationship, or so you thought. but happy relationships aren’t made of lies, cheating, violence and hate.

you didn’t know what made him change his behaviour towards you. during the first months of relationship he was kind and loving, and suddenly he changed.

he blamed it on you being away for too long, he didn’t like that. he knew that you were doing an important job, working for wwe meant investing most of your time in your job but it was all you dreamed of.

you graduate in journalism just for that main reason and when you were offered the position of hosting some wwe programs after the main events you couldn’t say no.

you made so many friends that in all reality, were like a family to you.

but your ex didn’t like that, so he made you quit. when your colleagues noticed your sudden behaviour change, they started asking questions you didn’t want to answer. when they saw how you changed your wardrobe, they started investigating in your private life a little more and you hated that, and an escalated fight with your ex made you quit your dream job.

all because of him.

“let me know when you’ll stop whoring around” he said, with such a low voice that made you shiver.

“i’m not…”

“you’re not?” he laughed “yes you are!” he raised his voice at you, again “i see the shows you are hosting, i see all the wrestlers flirting with you and you, like the good whore you are, doing nothing to stop them!”

“it’s part of the job, i’m not flirting with anyone!” that was your first mistake, raising your voice back at him.

“so you’re saying i’m a liar” he went, gaslighting you.

“no - no, i’m not saying that…” your voice smaller “i’m just saying i’m doing my job, i’m a journalist and that’s what i’m doing…”

“now, hear me very well, you’re quitting that job and you’ll stay here at home, waiting for me when i come back from work, like the good wife you’re going to be one day” he smiled at you, making you shiver again.

“i’m not quitting my dream job!” you screamed back and before you could move, slap. a loud and strong slap to your face.

“scream at me again bitch! you’ll be six feet under ground next time” he screamed, before leaving the room and leaving you standing there, frozen on your spot.

so you did what he threatened you to do. you quit your job. without giving explanations.

all of your friends texted you, tried to reach you in some way but you never answered back.

he was controlling your phone, who you called, who you texted, what you posted on your socials. he became too invasive that at some point, you weren’t allowed outside without him.

rhea and damian, your best friends became worried about you, especially when they didn’t see you at the airport when you were all supposed to leave together for the european tour.

“what you mean she quit?” rhea asked jey.

“i don’t know man, she did. no one told me anything else. she simply quit without giving any explanation man…i’m worried for her, she wasn’t the same person anymore” jey said, making feel damian more insecure.

damian had a crush on you. he did from the first day he saw you, and he was heartbroken when he found out you had a boyfriend. but he didn’t want to ruin your relationship so he was okay with just being friend with you.

he was the first person to notice about your sudden change. the dress you wore were more covering - not that he minded what you were wearing, but he loved your coloured and crazy style that he was kinda shocked to see you wearing black long sleeve dresses everyday. he noticed the way you talked less and smiled less, he noticed how you stopped going to the gym with rhea, he noticed that you would eat less and less and alone.

he knew something was up, he just didn’t know what.

and now, the news that you quit.

he knew he had to reach out to you once he came back from the tour, even if it meant breaking your house down.

two weeks into the european tour and he finally was coming back home with all the crew. while being away he tried to call you many times but he was always sent to voicemail.

“i can’t do this anymore…something’s wrong, i can feel it” damian said to rhea once he was driving back to his home.

“you wanna go check on her?”

“not now…she’s probably asleep. i’m going tomorrow, when she’s home alone…” he said, gripping stronger at the wheel.

rhea just nodded, knowing that talking about you was hurtful for damian.

and so the first thing damian did was to wait until you were home alone. when he saw your boyfriend leaving was the moment he stepped out of his car and knocked on your front door.

his heart broke when he saw your face.

you had a purple bruise covering half of your left cheek and your eyes, they didn’t sparkle like they used to do.

“y/n…” he sadly smiled at you.

“dam - damian, what are you doing here?”

“i wanted to check on you…” he said and you softly smiled, letting him inside the house.

“i’m good damian, how are you by the way?” you tried to avoid the conversation that was coming.

“you’re not good y/n…what happened to your cheek?” he asked, a little too worried.

“oh i fell” you said causally but damian wasn’t having any of it.

“definitely not a bruise from a fall…y/n, can you please look at me?” he asked you softly stepping in front of you.

tears were already forming in your eyes.

“did he do this?” was all he asked before your eyes betrayed you and you let those tears fall “oh sweetie…” he whispered before wrapping his muscular arms around you.

it’s been a long time since someone hugged you like that and you didn’t want to let go. you felt safe in his arms but you knew it was coming to an end.

“is he the reason you quit your job?” he asked and you nodded, too scared to speak “look at me love…” he softly smiled, gently wiping your tears away “you’re coming with me…i’m not letting you stay here okay?”

“i-i can’t damian…”

“yes you can love, i’m not letting you stay here with that dick…he doesn’t fucking deserve you, not after this, i’m so sorry i didn’t realize what was going on before…”

“its not your fault dam” you said.

“so…are you coming with me?” he asked, hopeful.

“o-okay…”

“i’ll help you pack love…you’re staying with me for all the time you need okay?” he gently asked you and you nodded.

when your boyfriend came back home and saw that all of your clothes were missing, he went crazy. he knew he would have happened sometimes but he never thought that you would actually leave him.

he tried to call you and text you but you blocked his number. damian even turned your phone off so you could focus on your self a little more.

damian was so kind and patient with you. he firstly offered you his own bedroom but you couldn’t accept it, so he gave up and gave you the guest bedroom. the first few nights were completely nightmares, you couldn’t fall asleep and every time you did, you would wake up with a scream. but damian was always there for you, he helped you calm down after a bad dream, he held you if you wanted him to do so, he wiped your tears away everytime you woke up crying.

he was always there for you and you couldn’t be more grateful.

of course - if damian knew, rhea knew. you wanted to keep it a secret, the whole “violent boyfriend thing” - you didn’t want people to know about it.

eventually hunter found out and he was more than happy to give you your job back. he even suggested that you would be accompanied by guards from home to work and viceversa.

but somehow your ex found out too. he saw you were back working on tv, he saw you were enjoying more time with your friends again and he couldn’t accept it, so, after a failed attempt of breaking into damian’s home, you had to ask for a restraining order.

damian was always by your side, trying to give you your own space but keeping an eye on you.

you’ve spent two months now with him, and, even if you don’t want to admit it to yourself you were falling for him, more and more every day. you weren’t used to be treated with such love and care, and all damian did was natural for him.

but even if you were feeling better the nightmares never stopped.

“no, please don’t” you screamed but your boyfriend was just staring at you with a mischievous smile.

“don’t what uh?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

“don’t hurt me please, i-i will do anything you want to but please…don’t hurt me again…” but no matter how you begged, he wasn’t listening and so his strong hand met your face once again.

you woke up with a loud scream and damian, being only two doors away from you, came running to your bedroom.

you were heavily breathing and your eyes were full of tears.

“hey hey it’s okay…” he whispered gently sitting next to you.

you involuntarily flinched when you heard him talking.

“it’s me amor…it’s me, it’s damian…” he softly talked to you “breath with me…let’s breath together okay?” and you did as he told you.

his hand softly reached your face and wiped away your tears. you melted into his touch and he felt that. he wanted to scream how much he loved you but he didn’t want to scare you away.

“i’m sorry for waking you up…go back to sleep” you apologised.

“i’m not leaving you here…don’t apologise for this”

“i don’t want to keep being a burden for you and-…”

“stop it right there…hermosa, you are not a burden for me, you’ll never be a burden for me, you’re…i care for you, so much…i-i” he wanted to say he loved you but couldn’t “you will never be alone okay? i’ll be here for all the time you need me to”

“can you please stay here with me until i fall asleep?” you shyly asked him, hating how vulnerable you sounded.

“absolutely love…come here” he laid down and let you lay in his arms, the place where you felt more protected.

“thank you damian…i mean it”

“there’s nothing to thank me for…”

“damian…”

“yes?”

“i care for you too…maybe more than a friend should” you confessed “but it’s okay if you don’t feel the same, i just wanted to let you know, nothing would change our friendship”

“i want to change our friendship though…i wish we could be more than friends” he confessed too, making your heart skip a beat.

“what?”

“you heard me right y/n…i like you, a lot. i’ve always liked you but i didn’t want to interfere with your relationship, if i only knew what was really going on behind closed doors…i won’t rush you to do anything…we’re going slow if you want to…”

“i want to damian, i want to have a relationship with you i just” you were scared honestly “i’ve never been loved before, i don’t know how to love again…”

“it’s okay y/n…it’s okay…we’ll take things slow love”

“thank you damian…” you thanked him “but…i would really like to kiss you now…”

“we can do that” he smirked making you smile. his soft hand caressing the cheek where once there was a huge bruise, he leaned over you and captured your lips over his big ones. the kiss was soft, full of warmth and love that a tear of happiness fell from your eyes.

he smiled into the kiss, making you smile too.

“i liked that…” you confessed making him chuckle.

“good night hermosa…sleep well” he said when he saw you yawning.

his hand scratched your head, making you fall asleep faster than ever, his arms around you making you feel safe.

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p1nk-matter · 1 month

Text

shiggy fluff cause he deserves all the love // inspired by @aslutforfictionalmen's post (here's my interpretation, i also spontaneously wrote this @/3am so his quirk may have been erased not his trauma tho)

‘’There is no reason to be wearing that’’ You laugh as you look at him.

Tenko in a suit has to be the funniest thing you’ve ever seen. ‘’It's just a drive-in movie theater’’ You tease and he scoffs.

‘’Yeah well I can’t win, can I? Tracksuits are too casual, I remind you of a busker, remember? And what’s wrong with that by the way, you wish you had their talent–’’

‘’Enough, we’re running late’’ You cut him off but can’t hide your smile when he’s all annoyed lecturing you in a fucking suit.

The movie chosen was cliché, borderline comical especially when you’re accompanied by a tall man with questionable appearance. How you even convinced him to join you is beyond comprehension, most likely because you promised him to play Nintendo Switch, his latest obsession. You’d play with him regardless, a man with a childhood lost, robbed from things you experienced firsthand at a younger age but Tenko couldn’t really see it. You on the other hand recognized it, and through small acts (annoying as such because for some inexplicable reason he always lost to you) you showed him everything he’d missed.

‘’I wrote you 365 letters. I wrote you everyday for a year!’’

Ryan Gosling says as you feel a hand squeeze yours tightly, shoulders touching as the night sky glows above the projector. You turn to look at him confused, The Notebook was one of those films you’d seen a million times, failing to evoke powerful emotions after some time but it was still a very satisfying rewatch. Tenko turns his head.

‘’What’s wrong?’’ You say, anxious he might be having another panic attack. You knew how to calm him down but never the extent of it and that scared you.

‘’It’s nothing’’ He whispers, his voice is composed, you note, good.

‘’Yes... it wasn't over, it still isn't over..’’ Gosling continues.

‘’Can you believe he wrote to her all this time? This is so fucking cruel!’’ he almost shouts, as a couple of heads turn to look at him annoyed.

‘’Oh my god, are you crying over the movie right now?’’ You want to burst out laughing but the stares warn you otherwise, both your tones too loud. You can’t believe what a sucker for romance he is, he always acts all tough but ends up being hungry for love anywhere he can find it. You kind of get it, it also kind of breaks your heart.

‘’I’m so posting this’’ You tease as he wipes his eyes clean with a tissue he had in his pocket.

‘’I swear to god if you don’t shut the fuck up’’ His voice is shaky but his eyes are glued to the scene, anxious for what’s coming next. Will they make up? Maybe even make out, have sex? Poor him, he’s unprepared for the bittersweet end.

The drive back home is silent, you take it he’s still thinking about the film, contemplating its ending, unsure whether he likes it or not.

‘’Sooo.. did you like it?’’

‘’It was ok’’ He feigns indifference and you don’t continue. You allow him to ponder before speaking up, he almost always adds something on his own.

‘’I just think it’s funny she married the other guy, you know.’’ He says.

‘’What was she supposed to do? She didn’t know about the letters, remember?’’

‘’Still, if she really loved him, she should’ve waited, should’ve been alone, grieved on her own. How could she do this?’’ He asks as you sigh.

‘’It’s just a film and people make mistakes. You never know until you tell them.’’

This time he doesn’t continue.

‘’So what do you want to do?’’ You ask once you’ve arrived home, it’s already past midnight but both of you are too lively for sleep.

‘’You promised Nintendo’’ He reminds you and you sigh. Not your favorite part of the day but you silently take a seat next to him on the couch.

3 rounds of Mario Kart racing on the Nintendo Switch and Tenko is losing consecutively as he whines frustrated: ‘’Enough!’’

‘’I just don’t understand why you’re always losing’’ You tell him, as far as you know he was unlocking the game levels with ease on his own.

‘’I don’t know, shit, you ask way too many questions today’’ he complains, ‘’I’ll go change, this suit is itching the fuck out of me’’ he continues as you get up.

He finds you scrolling on your phone, a towel wrapped around him, droplets falling from his hair, which he must’ve aggressively ruffled (in failed efforts to dry) as he literally drops his body onto yours, scaring you and making you drop your phone.

‘’Tenko, fuck agh!’’ you groan, ‘’my phone!’’

He was so annoying and on top of that soaking your shirt too.

‘’I’m sorry’’ he smiles, he wasn’t really sorry, he missed you, he thought. Even though you were together the whole day, he still missed you. So much. He couldn’t get enough of you, any moment shared only made him more anxious for your next departure, he wished he could somehow glue you to his skin forever.

You playfully slapped his arm and he retaliated, pinching your nose as you pouted.

‘’Don’t pout’’ he warned, ‘’I'll bite you.’’ But you didn’t listen. He brought his mouth to yours as his teeth sunk on your lower lip, pulling at it and letting it out softly.

‘’Ouch, you douche!’’ You fake pain but he knows he didn’t actually hurt you, he could never.

There was a moment where neither of you did anything, must’ve been less than a minute, before he leaned closer, mouths in close proximity as he noticed your eyes shut.

I want to kiss her, he thought and he did. Soft lips brought to yours, as you immediately kissed him back, cupping his wet neck and bringing his face even closer, deepening the kiss. His arms quivered, threatening to make him lose his balance and fall on top of you, he lost himself every time you kissed him.

His hand slid down your waist, positioning you higher on the couch as your hungry mouth searched for his again, needy breaths escaped your lips, a sight that made him feel the all too familiar pain in his groin, a towel was still draped around him and you were still in your outside clothes.

A peak across the room showed him the window curtains open.

‘’Give me a minute, baby’’ He said as he got up to close them, returning to you with his arms stretched out, ready to move this somewhere more comfortable.

–

He was awakened by an asleep arm, your weight had fallen on it and he felt numb.

He gently tried to remove it but you moved around and whispered in a raspy voice, god, how much he loved that voice.

‘’What is it?’’ Your tone sounded anxious, were you afraid something was going to happen to him? Could it be that you cared that much?

Without a word he shushed you.

‘’It’s all right, go back to sleep’’ he said moments later, a pain in his chest since he couldn’t tell you that actually yes, there was something on his mind.

‘’You know, you have to tell people how you feel, remember?’ You spoke so wisely, even after an interrupted slumber and he couldn't help but smile.

‘’I know baby, goodnight’’ He said as you sighed and turned around.

For Tenko could not tell you that nothing compared to this, nothing like doing nothing with you and to admit this to himself was a big liability. He would tell you eventually, maybe he’d write it down, he found it easier, but on that day he chose to wrap his arms around you again, risking numbness, than to speak the words.

#shigaraki x reader #tenko shimura x reader #shigaraki fluff #mha x reader #this was such a cute idea omg omg #he needs a good hug tbh #el.drabbles

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sebastianswallows · 1 year

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— A/N: I saw this post by @ominisallow and was hit by so many soft and tender *★°*feelings*°★* that I had to write it down 😭 sweetest beby snek

— Synopsis: Ominis teaching the main character how to read braille by tenderly placing his hand atop theirs to guide them while reading aloud.

— Wordcount: ~ 800 words of fluff

— Pairing: Ominis Gaunt x F!MC

“How do you do it?” she asked, after countless minutes of staring at his hands.

“Do what?” said Ominis, fingers not even pausing on the page.

“Read like that,” she said as she scooted closer to him on the floor of the common room, where they sat before the fire. There was just a small and dimming flame left in the late night hours, and there was no one else around but them.

“I suppose the same way you do,” he smiled. “I perceive the symbols on the page and interpret them as letters.”

“You know what I mean,” said the new 5th-year with a tone that carried on it her sardonic smile.

“I don’t, really,” said Ominis serenely. “I have nothing to compare it to, you know.”

He’d stopped reading entirely. By now, he felt her by his side, her shoulder warmth-to-fleshy-warmth with his. Their robes were sprawled over the sofa at their back, and the shirts, white and starched, were paper-thin across their bodies. He only had to straighten his back a little to feel her right against his bony shoulder.

“I mean…” he added quickly, suddenly worried — frantically, irrationally — that he’d hurt her feelings, “I know in theory that you see the words written down and that they have a certain shape and that you need light to do it, but I suppose that’s as strange to me as my manner of reading is to you.”

“So,” she started cautiously, “each of those bumps is a letter?”

“Some are, others are in combination, yes,” he nodded.

Ominis allowed himself a smile at having found something to entice her, she who had learned everything so quickly and uncovered so many mysteries, and hoped she didn’t catch his grin — but she probably did, damned light, damned fireplace heating up his cheeks, damn…

“Can you show me?”

“W-what?”

If his grip had been lighter, he might have dropped the book when he felt that pressure, like a shiver on the page, as she touched it — then the deathly stillness of the book again as she let go of it as if burned.

“I mean — if you don’t mind. I wouldn’t want to —”

“No, it’s —”

“— to offend or —”

“It’s not, it’s —”

Ominis laughed stupidly at her shyness, at his, and as he turned his head toward where her small voice came from froze at feeling her so close, her little panicked breaths fanning on his lips.

“It’s no trouble at all,” he finished in a quiet voice. “I-I’ll show you, if you want.”

Without asking, his left hand let the book cover fall over his lap as it went in search of hers, feeling in the dark, across her bended knee, over the dip of the skirt between her legs, until it found her hand — dry, cold, a little shaky — and embraced it awkwardly in his own. She let him pull it back toward the book and, with like mind, they leaned into one another all at once to rest the book between them. Ominis took her right hand in his own and felt around her fingers until he caught the index.

“You can do it with one finger,” he whispered, facing ahead into nothing but feeling her cheek so close to his by now, “but it’s easier with two.” He caught the brief chuckle she gave at hearing that and blushed all the way to his ears for some reason.

“So, erm…” she started, fingers faltering on the page beneath his, “what does this say?”

“Oh,” said Ominis, “right, that’s…” He slipped his index between hers and her middle finger to rub it left and right over the text. “That says: A common — and — recommended — charm — for silencing — both beasts — and beings — is —”

“Silencio,”she finished, a smile shining through her voice. “Oh but this is so hard…” she complained, starting over at the top of the page and Ominis, without a thought as to why, letting his hand be carried with hers. “How can you tell which letter is which?”

“You learn it, of course, with practice,” he smiled. “See, this is A, this little dot here…”

“And I guess these must be C…”

“Only these two,” he continued, holding her finger between his own and pressing it into the page, “at the top, here.”

“And this is O?”

“It is. And this…”

They carried on like that, hand in hand, until they’d read the whole page through, and fell more lazily into each other, a sleepy tangle of elbows and knees and soft hair ruffled together, while the fire died and left them both in darkness, smiling with eyes closed while they read — Ominis from the book, her tracing each letter to the cadence of his soft and gentle voice.

#Ominis Gaunt #Hogwarts Legacy #ominis gaunt imagine #Hogwarts Legacy imagine #Ominis Gaunt x Reader #Ominis Gaunt x MC #Ominis Gaunt fluff #Hogwarts Legacy MC #sswallow;made a thing #sswallow;fanfics

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lucysgraybird · 3 months

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modern!university!coriolanus x fem!reader. part 2 here, part 3 here

notes: this is not set in panem -- if you're looking for a vibe, think harvard/uchicago/any of the old-guard, upper echelon US universities. i have another part in the works that i'll post tomorrow or thursday. also i promise that they both have some crazy in them . It will appear in later parts

“Please remember that I cannot accept late work for this essay,” your professor says as everyone packs up. “The deadline is the deadline for work for the semester, so everything has to be submitted by then. This includes any outstanding work you might have.”

She shoots a look at a boy in the front row when she says that, and he bows his head.

“Have a wonderful weekend, and I'll see you all Monday.”

You shove your laptop in your bag, sling it across your body, and make a beeline for the exit. This is your last class of the day and you have no intention of spending any more time in a lecture hall than you have to. Just as you're about to leave the building, someone catches you by the shoulder and pulls you back.

“Excuse you,” you mutter, turning to see who would do something so…well, to put it diplomatically, bold.

There stands a boy with a shock of hair so blonde it's nearly white and eyes so blue they're nearly translucent. It would be eerie if he didn't wear it well: angular and bright, it's like he's been carved from the purest block of ice. His pale features are offset by the rich ruby of his sweater. He looks royal, though you'd think a prince wouldn't go around grabbing girls by their arms.

“I'm sorry,” he says. “I've been wanting to talk to you for weeks, but you always fly out of the building and I didn't want to miss you this time.”

“Talk to me? About what?”

God willing, not about some group project that had slipped your mind. You're so careful about organization, but sometimes things slip through the cracks.

“Would you like to go out with me?”

“Who are you?”

His eyebrows (the only dark thing on his face) twitch, and you wonder if he's so arrogant as to assume you'd know who he is. He doesn't say anything, though, just extending a hand to you.

“Coriolanus Snow. Pleasure.”

You shake his hand, finding the official-ness of it a little odd. When you open your mouth to introduce yourself, he stops you.

“I realize this is going to sound…odd, but I do know who you are. You're the only person I listen to in that insipid class.”

“Oh.”

Because honestly, what are you supposed to say to that?

“Let me take you to dinner, please,” Coriolanus says. “At least for the conversation.”

Your pause must spur him on, because he continues, “And you're gorgeous. Honestly, you caught my eye before you even started speaking, and then…well.”

He's very forward, but it doesn't come off as desperate. He carries himself with such a confident air that if he hadn't tried to be suave, it would've been more awkward.

You allow yourself to be flattered, offering him a soft laugh. His poise must be a front, at least a little, and you can put up a façade too.

“Why, thank you, Coriolanus. I'd love to go out with you, but I'm so busy with finals coming up…”

This is partly true – you're taking the maximum number of credits your advisor would let you, which is over the credit load the school has set, so you have a good deal of work to do. However, you're not above playing a little hard-to-get, especially if you are interested in the person. Half the fun of a hunt is the chase.

“All the more reason to go out. I know a spot if you're free tonight – one more bit of fun before hitting the books?”

“What kind of fun, Mr. Snow?”

“Well, we'll see where the night takes us, if that's a yes.”

It can't hurt, right?

“It's a yes. I'll text you my address?” You extend your phone to him, a delicate smile gracing your lips.

“Perfect,” he says, putting in his number. “I'll pick you up at 7:30. Wear something nice.”

“Where are we going?”

“A surprise, but it's very classy. You'll love it.”

You can't wait to look this guy up when you get home. “I'm looking forward to it. See you tonight."

“See you tonight.”

—

“Classy” is an unhelpful dress code, you're discovering. It refers to such a range of places, so you're left to take a guess and hope you don't make some sort of grave faux pas. You're limited in being overdressed as a university student, so you select the nicest thing you brought from home. It's a wine-coloured dress that skims just the middle of your calves, with a cowl at the neck and a sweeping back that shows a tasteful (yet tempting, you hope) amount of skin. With a thin necklace and some earrings, you could fit in at most “nice” restaurants that would be appropriate for a first date with a nigh-stranger.

At 7:25, you slip on your coat and heels and head down to the lobby of your apartment building. Something tells you that Coriolanus has a tendency towards extreme punctuality, so you'd rather not keep him waiting a moment.

Just as you suspected, at 7:30 exactly the silhouette of a tall man appears at your door and your phone buzzes with a text.

Coriolanus Snow: I'm here.

When you open the door, he is, indeed, there, holding a bouquet of white roses and wearing a red vest and slacks with a white dress shirt. He is nothing if not coordinated, you suppose.

“Ah,” he says. “Hello. These are for you.”

It is a lovely gesture, and it garners a genuine blush from you while you accept the bouquet. “Thank you. They're gorgeous. I didn't even know they made white roses.”

He offers his elbow to you, which you accept. Though it's odd, there's something sweet about his anachronistic nature. You, like any college girl, have had many a bad first date, and it's pleasant to have one with a man who is, at the least, polite.

“My grandmother grows them. I dropped by and picked these up on my way here. You look wonderful, by the way.”

“Oh! Thank you. I wasn't quite sure what to wear because I don't know where we're going, so I'm glad I chose well.” You glance over at his outfit. “We match, sort of.”

“So we do.”

He smiles in a way that's almost indescribable – it's not quite aloof, though it has some of the same calculation behind it. It actually feels incredibly personal, and sets your heart racing. Why this boy gets under your skin the way he does – the way no one has before – is something you have yet to discover.

Your walk with him ends at a black car, for which he opens the back door and allows you to climb in before following you. A scan of social media earlier had turned up tragically few results, and every single thing Coriolanus does makes you more curious about him. He settles next to you.

“So are you a polisci major, or are you just taking the one class?” You ask, unwilling to let silence be for more than a moment.

“Polisci and philosophy,” he replies. “My goal is law school directly after college, and then politics.”

“I should've guessed,” you say.

“Oh?”

“Not in a bad way. Just…you're very smooth. Well-spoken, attractive, all of that. You'd do well in politics.”

The corners of his lips turn in a slight smile. “You think I'm attractive?”

You laugh. “I certainly do, Coriolanus. I do have standards, you know.”

“Then I'm very glad I'm meeting them. Are you looking to do politics too, then, or…?”

“Honestly, not right now. I think I might stick to academia for a while. I don't have the stomach for pandering that you have to have for politics.”

“It's my least favourite part, honestly. I did some work for a senator last summer and the endless word-parsing drove me insane. No one ever says what they mean.”

“Right. The image of it all is fun, though. Like playing a character. But you don't have to do politics to do that.”

Coriolanus nudges his knee against yours. “Are you putting on an image for me right now?”

“A lady never tells. Are you putting on one for me?”

When you turn, he's a lot closer than you expected. You can see the spires in his irises, like cracked moonstones, and can smell his cologne: whiskey and spice and something woody, clean.

“You'll just have to find out,” he says, his voice low in his chest. It's said as a secret – there's no one else in the car, but it's as though if he says it too loud the leather of the seats might remember. These words were for your ears only, the rumble meant to coast across just your skin, and you shudder.

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #coryo snow #tom blyth #tom blyth fanfiction #tom blyth x reader #coriolanus x you #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coryo x reader #coryo

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luvtak · 5 months

Text

seasons of love, hhj

✦ pairing hyunjin x reader

✦ genre/tw FLUFF! FLUFF! ONE MORE TIME SAY IT WITH ME! FLUFF!!! hyunjin and mc are very much in love! hyunjin is said to be taller than mc and have bigger hands. lots of kisses and i love yous. suggestive in a couple places. in and out of present and past tense lol. overall very sweet and lovely--hyunjin and mc falling in love through the seasons

✦ w/c 2412

✦ a/n okay so! this is a rewrite of something i posted springtime last year and i hated it lol. this time around i am very proud of hyune and mc and they’re love story and i hope you all love it too!! I've spent months adding scenes and taking them away until I got here <3 please like and reblog, and please please reach out if you have any ideas or questions or just wanna talk!! love you guys forever, mwah!!

He came to you in the Summer, bringing with him music and dancing, and so much laughter you forget how serious falling in love can be.

There is just something about warm weather. It could be the sun shining over your beloved, lighting them up like a god or a king, maybe it’s just that the temperature resembles the touch of your lover’s caress, or that the awakened world is made for romance. It was early July, and everything was blue and sunny; days were filled with jokes and getting to know each other over hot days and cold drinks. Confessions given on front porches and whispered under blue skies—a million firsts bundled up as the heat went away.

He tells you he likes you so quietly, whispering in his sweet little voice, “would you like to go out sometime?”

The way his tall frame looked against the paint palette sunset would live in your head forever; pretty hair and long legs, the sweetest smile curving up to his crescent moon eyes. Looking back, you wished you had a camera or shared his talent with a paintbrush–just to have that moment set in stone. The smile that made you say yes.

In the beginning, he was too shy to hold your hand or stand too close. Inching closer and closer until he stood against you–brushing his fingers against yours until his big hands were enveloping your smaller ones.

The first time he kissed you, his hands were shaking.

He was so nervous you could feel the goosebumps rising on his arms, but he asked so sweetly,

“Can I kiss you.” And there was no way you’d ever say no. Not when he stood there in his summer clothes and pink cheeks, not when it was Hyunjin asking.

He held you straight against him, both hands on your face—the first press of his lips like drinking water, so slow as not to choke then gulping it down. His skin was soft everywhere you touched, and his kiss was happy: full of teeth and giggles and coming up for air.

Getting to know him was like walking into your childhood home, everything about him as familiar as the lines on your palm. Some parts of you are certain you’ve known him before—maybe you were lovers then too, or maybe two trees whose roots were intertwined. In any reality, you can’t see how Hyunjin is supposed to be with you. There is just no other reason why he could know you so well already, no other explanation as to why his body fits around you like it was made to.

Late one night you tell him your theories, and the smile he gave you was so bright and shiny you thought the sun came up. You tell him calmly and earnestly,

“Hyun, I’m almost certain we’ve already met thousands of times before.”

August is hot and covered in orange sunsets and long kisses; pink skies the same color as his cheeks when he asks you out again and again. He tells you about his life while you flip through his journals, page after page dedicated to moments he loved and dreams he’s had, and moments yet to come.

The days are long and it’s so easy to care for him, 15 hours of sunlight allowing you to learn all of him and still need more. Sharing secrets under leaves and laughs under covers–it’s too quick to fall in love, too fast for this insatiable longing to rise up in you. But you think you are, you must be, what else could that aching pull in your tummy be?

The first I love you falls from your lips like the leaves around you. A day spent shopping in the Halloween aisles and holding hands to keep warm. He looks so pretty, dark hair standing out against the grays and oranges of the season, and you love him so much you can’t help but tell him. The words float easy, accompanied by wind bitten skin and a warm gaze.

At first, he hesitates, making sure he’s heard you right, until finally the sun breaks on his face and he speaks.

“I love you too, silly.” He says it like it’s obvious, and it is. He’s been telling you with his eyes and his hands for months, it’s the truest he’s ever felt.

Autumn is spent studying each other, learning how and when to touch—how to make him gasp and sigh. His eyes flutter when you kiss his hip and roll when you bite down; He scratches and pulls, he makes your teeth rattle with his skin. Late nights and early mornings mapping each other, he tells you he loves you and swallows the response, touches the words away.

“I love you; I love you; I love you.” You say over and over again, hoping it sinks into his soul like a second skin.

In mere months, he knows your heart like it’s his own, slotting himself into your life like he’s always been a part of it. Your body has become his home; he’s tied his heart to yours in a double knot. You’re made for him, he’s sure of it—molded from the same clay, split-a parts who’ve found each other.

He tells you things he’s never told anyone before, pressing the secrets against your lips and pulling all of your secrets out of you at the same time.

He adores you, cherishes you as a person, a friend, a lover. He feels happier than he ever has, and he wants to show you to everyone he knows. When he introduces you to his friends, the smile never leaves his face and his hand stays wound with yours. They welcome you like an old friend, and he feels like both pieces of his heart are melting together. He watches you joke with Felix and be teased by Minho, and he thinks you’re the piece that’s been missing this whole time.

Months have been spent just the two of you, and it’s been perfect–intimate and so warm, but seeing you among his friends changes things. Almost like it wasn’t yet real, and now it is.

When you go to bed that night, he tells you,

“They love you and I love you.” and the look you give him is so beautiful, he thinks he should bottle it and save it for later.

Winter brings an unwelcome guest, a yearning for him that won’t go away—it’s harder to love him when he’s busy, and you wish you could be stronger and less jealous, but you’re only one person. It gets considerably difficult to wash the harsh feelings away when he isn’t there to help you, too many nights spent feeling too far away from him induce an anger you can’t get rid of.

When he arrives late and smelling of alcohol, you can’t seem to swallow the bitterness—why would he be drinking when he could be here with you?

Hyunjin, never a novice in reading you, picks it up right away.

One quick comment and then yelling.

“Are you just tired of me?” It escapes from your tongue like a lash, pricking invisible scars onto every vein. He wishes you would know he misses you too, but how could you when he’s never around, not physically nor emotionally, so you keep screaming. Yelling so loud about things that don’t matter. You hope he knows you’re fighting to stay, not to leave, but the words leaving your mouths are so harsh, you can’t be certain if he remembers he loves you.

If you were in your right mind, you’d know he doesn’t want it this way. Everyday he longs for the heat of summer and the comfort of autumn. If he wasn’t drunk, he could tell you, but instead he says, “I just can’t do this anymore.” Maybe it’s better to let go and find each other next time, next life.

Recently it’s been too hard, and maybe he’s not strong enough to learn about this part of you, but you are.

You’ve never been afraid to learn his bad parts, sure he’s a dream shaped like a boy, but he’s also whiny and clingy, and sometimes he gives up too fast. Even though it’s hard, and the tears are streaming into the seam of your lips—you gulp down the acidity and tell him you love him.

“It’s never going to get easier, Hyun, you’ll always be busy, and I’ll probably always miss you, but I love you and you said we’re meant to be, and you’re not a liar.” You tell him you’re sorry for yelling, and he says he’s sorry too, and in the morning, he’ll use his hands to apologize and then his mouth and he’ll promise to keep you warm when he can.

Winter is spent learning to love the pieces of each other that are unlikable, to see the invisible boundaries of before and honor them. You remember your theory about the trees with woven roots, and you remind yourself sometimes you’ll have to sacrifice your share of the water to survive, and you hope it’ll be easier when the world reawakens.

Night comes so fast, and it's so cold, but he loves you. It’s been half a year now, and you almost can’t remember where you were this time last year. Were you freezing without him? Or did you only feel the cold now that he’s here?

All you know is his warmth–pressing into you wherever he can.

A silent promise for the spring yet to come.

His birthday arrives with the first of the blooms, the world not yet alive. You wish him happy birthday under warm sheets, whimpering the words in place of presents. He spends the day with the people he loves most and the happiness he feels eases into spring. He tells you it used to be his favorite; and you promise for his day you will bring some of the magic back.

You help him pick flowers to paint, and read him your favorite stories, you kiss him under cherry blossoms and show him your favorite sunsets. It helps some, but not all—even so, spring with you is prettier than without. He’s sure his skin is brighter because you kiss it, and his paintings are better because they’re of you. He doesn’t know if you believe him, but he means it. His world has become technicolor since you walked into it.

He says it’s just better with you, “I mean it, honey, life is unbelievable when you’re around.”

It’s almost been a year, months spent learning and growing just like the flowers scattered around you. He loves you, so it takes no hesitation when you ask him to move in. He feels like it was already in the midst of happening anyway—his one drawer became a dresser, and his favorite snacks found their way to your cabinets.

Months ago, your heart became his home, and now he gets to live in it every day. Sure, you bicker some: many sighs of “That’s not where that goes, Hyun.” Combined with sweet mutters of “Well, it should go there, sweetheart.” But it’s exhilarating to open his boxes and link his life with yours—mitch-matched mugs in the sink and dirty clothes mixed together.

Your home is filled with dancing and music, laughter and love. His paintings cover the walls, pictures of your days held with magnets on the fridge. His life is now yours and your days belong to each other, and every night he reminds you it’s almost been a year, but how could you forget.

Sometimes, when he puts a dish away wrong, or leaves his clothes on the floor, you question why you invited him in. Even so, you wouldn’t take it back. He’s added so much color into your life, spring personified. A lovely romantic boy who sets your soul on fire.

The flowers that line the street remind you of him, and the bees who accompany you on your walk sing a quiet song that resembles his sweet nothings.

Your sweet spring boy, Hyunjin.

Radiant in every season.

Somehow, he looks the prettiest in the July heat. Of course, every season you’ve spent with him he’s been beautiful, but there is something about his smile surrounded by clear skies. His cheeks are the same color as the flowers and his kisses as warm as the sun. Something about the season where you first met, encasing him in a beauty befit of a prince. You can’t believe it’s been a year with him, a year getting to know how to love him and feeling his love back.

Looking at him now, he could probably make you do anything which is why when he woke you up at the crack of dawn dragging you out to see the sunrise you couldn’t say no. It was frustrating at first, when all you wanted was a few more hours in bed next to him, but Hyunjin could make you do anything if he smiled down at you.

He’s doing it now, looking so darling in his light sweater and clips in his bed-messed hair, looking past you at the sunrise. You love him like this, and it takes all of you not to tell him, to keep the peace of dawn.

You’ve loved things before—people, places, things, but never a boy like this.

Hwang Hyunjin is so precious, so dear to you that it hurts sometimes. No one has ever loved you the way he does, his love surrounds you—covers you under a warm blanket of his affection until it radiates into you.

He’s telling you how pretty you are, how you look like the fresh blooms and you’re laughing—which is all he wanted. He only ever wants to make you happy, even if that means being a cheeseball sometimes. Especially if that means waking you up early enough to see the sun come up, and he wants to see that smile again, so he asks,

“Honey, do you wanna know a secret?”

“Oooo, yes tell me.”

“I love you.” It comes so easy, flows so quickly past his lips like a nightly prayer, like it’s something so objectively true he can’t lie about it, which it is. And your smiles is so wide, laughing at how sweet your boy is, and you say,

“Oh, I already Knew that. I love you too.” And he smiles, grinning at the summer sky.

#hyunjin #hyunjin x reader #skz x reader #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin fluff #skz fluff #stray kids x reader #stray kids fluff #stray kids scenarios #hwang hyunjin x reader #hyunjin x you #skz imagines #hyunjin scenarios #skz x you #stray kids #skz

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bimobuddy · 2 months

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Wings

I'm back :]

SFW Hazbin tk fic

Lee!Lucifer, lers: basically everyone else

CW: God is a character in this, however I'll try not to refer to him by name, in case that makes anyone uncomfortable. Also Swearing.

The God I have in mind is similar to (but not exactly) that fan-design with the four floating eyes, look it up, it's great. I am making my own design of him though that I might post if y'all want me to. He's a total dad in this btw, I wanted something fluffy and comforting.

Summary: it's just various moments throughout Lucifer's life when he's had his wings tickled

"Lucifer, darling- Hold still! .. Shi- Darn."

He sighed, watching his youngest son half-fly-half-scramble away. Sure he was -The- Father, but he was still -A- father. And right now he was trying to catch one of his most difficult children to preen his wings. Luckily, Lucifer couldn't get very far with his wings still being small and mostly soft downy feathers. And being a very predictable child, his father knew exactly where he was going.

The deity left the palace and headed out toward the garden. It was still a work in progress, not quite ready for earth yet, so while he worked on it, he kept it in Heaven for his children to play in. Lucifer loved it, especially for a certain animal he had recently been allowed to create.

And sure enough, the youngest angel was by the pond, laying on his tummy, gleefully watching the ducks. His father shook his head in amusement. "Lucifer-" He started, but before he could finish, the child squeaked and jumped up, trying to run again. However his father was quicker, easily approaching him in just two steps and scooping him up.

"I believe we were in the middle of something, son?" He said, shifting his hold on Lucifer to carry him in one arm. The young angel pouted. "No thank you." He said, earning a laugh from his father. "I know it tickles, but it needs to be done. You're growing out of your baby-feathers, and soon you'll have big-kid feathers growing in, and you want them growing in neatly right?"

Lucifer frowned, as if really thinking about it. Finally he nodded. "Yes." His father nodded in return, "Good. Let's get started then." He took a moment to sit down in the grass, knowing his son would just run off again when they were done.

As he started to gently run his fingers through his son's wings, he winced a little when a shrill squeal rang out. How can something so small and sweet make such an aggressively loud noise? He couldn't help but chuckle as Lucifer frantically flapped all six of his little wings, trying to get away, giggling his heart out.

Soon enough, they were done. The second the deity pulled his hands up and released his son, Lucifer was off, running back to the pond, where a couple of his brothers were. The father thought it was sweet until Lucifer tackled one of them for getting to close to 'his' ducks.

He sighed and went to separate them. "Kids will be kids, I suppose."

- - -

Lucifer flew through the clouds as if his life depended on it. "Come back here, Luci-Loo!" Came the voice of his older brother, Michael.

The teenager took a sudden, sharp dive toward the lake, hoping to lose his brothers. Yet again, it was preening season. Their father had since given up on Lucifer the moment he really learned how to fly, and left that job to his older brothers, who were better at keeping up with him.

As he approached the ground, he angled his wings to pull up at the last second. By the sound of a loud splash, followed by the voice of Uriel yelling after him, he knew his trick had worked, even if just on one brother. He glanced behind him to see both Michael and Gabriel still hot on his trail.

What he was not expecting, however, was to almost crash into his eldest brother, Raphael. He flapped his right wings to turn, but due to his speed, he just narrowly avoided his brother and crashed into the ground.

Raphael sighed, "Seriously, Lucifer? You're 116 and still running from preening? Honestly, you're acting like a fledgling, just sit still for it."

Lucifer was about to argue, only to be very violently tackled at high speed by his immediate older brother, Gabriel, so hard it left a dent in the grass from where they skidded. Michael landed next to them. "Nice going, Gabe, now his wings are even dirtier." He said, though his face clearly showed amusement.

The two youngest brothers wrestled on the ground for a bit, Lucifer desperately trying to get away while grinning in anticipation, and Gabriel trying to pin him face-down so his wings were accessible.

Raphael crossed his arms, though a slight hint of amusement played on his own face. "Lucifer, is it really that bad?" "YES! MICHAEL'S MEAN ABOUT IT!" The eldest turned to Michael, grinning a little. "Are you mean about it?" "Maybe just a little. I learned from Azrael after all." He said, elbowing Raphael before sitting on the back of Lucifer's legs.

Gabriel had Lucifer face-down, sitting in front of him while he held his arms down, knowing the youngest was a fighter. Producing a comb, Michael got started, using his left hand to hold a single wing down while his right ran the comb through Lucifer's feathers.

Immediately, his other five wings started to flap rapidly, a couple even hitting Michael square in the face by accident. The poor angel was squeaking in a poor effort to not laugh.

Raphael rolled his eyes and decided to help. He sat down and pushed all sets of wings down, holding them in place. "Alright, Michael, hurry up, you know the longer this goes on, the harder he's going to come after us, when this is over."

Knowing this was true, Michael got started, running the comb through his feathers once again. Lucifer snorted and practically exploded with loud, bubbly laughter. "NAHAHAHA! NOHOHO! FFF-" "Don't curse," Raphael warned. "I WAHASN'T GOHOING TO!"

"Liar." Gabriel grinned, holding his wrists down with one hand, using the other to gently scritch at his ribs, causing Lucifer to screech and bury his face into the ground. Raphael gave his brother a look. "Don't overwhelm him, Gabriel, his wings are bad enough already. You know he's had trouble breathing in the past with you two taking it too far."

Gabriel stopped, looking back at Michael. "I would have stayed in my room if I knew Raph was going to take us on a guilt-trip." He grumbled, earning a laugh from Michael.

Once they had gotten his wings fully preened and combed out, all three sat back and let him up. Lucifer lay there panting, still giggling occasionally. Raphael reached out to pat him on the head, as he usually did with his brothers after a preening, only to be stopped when Lucifer suddenly sat up.

"You all have five minutes to run and hide."

Alarmed, all three took off.

- - -

Lucifer lay there, in the arms of his wife, solemnly looking up at the pentagram sky that separated him from all he had ever known. Lilith could only imagine how hard it was for him to be cast out and separated from his family and childhood home. She hadn't had a family or a childhood to miss. But as far as she was concerned, Lucifer was her family now, and she hated seeing him in so much emotional pain.

She ran a comforting hand down his back, between his wings, only to be startled as he sharply inhaled and flinched. She pulled her hand away quickly, "I'm sorry, are you hurt?" She asked, easily lifting him under the arms to look at him (which really flustered the short angel.)

"No, no, darling, I'm not hurt, it just.. it tickled." He said. As Lilith set him back down in her lap, he blushed and looked down. "You can...." He looked back up at her, "You can keep going... If you want to, that is.. My brothers used to do it.. I guess it's comforting in a way."

Lilith smiled softly, running her hand through his hair, loving the way he leaned into it. "Alright, my love." She whispered, gentle hands returning to his wings. Lucifer laid back down in her lap, arms around her waist, as his wings twitched and lightly fluttered, giggles flowing from him like music.

Maybe eternity like this wouldn't be so bad after all.

- - -

That morning in the Hotel had been complete chaos. It started with Charlie chasing Vaggie around, having discovered her wings were ticklish. The girls continued to play for nearly an hour before Charlie finally got her girlfriend tapping out.

The princess easily scooped up her angel and kissed her cheek, while said angel was practically pouting. "It's not fair, I'm a soldier, I'm not supposed to have such a weakness. Imagine if someone outside the hotel found out-" Vaggie didn't get very far before Charlie set her down. "Oh come on, it's okay that you have tickwy wittle wings~" She teased, causing her girlfriend to blush.

"Besides, the Devil himself is way worse, watch." She grinned, looking over at a very startled Lucifer who had apparently overheard everything. As Charlie ran at him, he spread his wings and flew upward to jump over her. The more his daughter chased after him, the more he turned it into a game, because of course he would.

Everytime Charlie got close, Lucifer would laugh and leap out of the way, even jumping off the walls to keep out of reach. "You're gonna have to try harder than thAAT!?" He yelped, feeling something wrap around his ankle and yank him to the floor. When he got a good look at it, he saw it was one of Alastor's shadows.

"Oh come on, you fucking-" "Oh, I do apologize, your highness, but I can't have you getting your disgusting shoe prints on my walls." Alastor grinned, clearly enjoying the scene before him.

Lucifer was about to snap back, but was cut off by Charlie sitting on top of him, immediately burying her fingers into his wings, causing the devil to shriek, a couple of his wings beating the floor. He had forgotten how ruthless his daughter was.

"C-CHAHAHAHARILIE!"

"See, Vaggie, even the king of Hell has ticklish wings, it's completely fine that you do too." Charlie said casually, as if she weren't absolutely wrecking said king.

Lucifer's laughter shot up an octive as he felt those damned shadow tendrils burying themselves under his feathers under all six wings. He started kicking his feet against the floor and trying to push Charlie's evil hands away.

"FAHAHAHAHACK! FUHUCK OFF, BAMB- NOHOHOHO WAITWAITWAHAIT!" Lucifer squealed like a child as he felt another shadow emerge underneath him, swiping at his spine. right between his shoulder blades. All six wings furiously beat at the floor in an attempt to get those tendrils away from him, but it didn't work.

Charlie grinned, gently scritching right into the 'wing pits' of his middle set of wings, having been told by her mother that it kills him. And sure enough, the king practically screamed. His legs stopped kicking and his wings stopped beating as he could only lay there and take it, laughing loudly.

It wasn't until his face got red that she stopped. And it wasn't until Charlie stopped that Alastor did as well. He personally would have kept going, but he figured Charlie would have his head if he pushed her father any further.

Lucifer panted heavily, unable to stop himself from giggling, a little loopy from it all. He looked up at Charlie. "G-Grohounded." Charlie grinned, "You can't ground me, I'm an adult." Lucifer shook his head, "Nuh-uh."

She got off of him and helped him up. Alastor came over and 'innocently' placed a hand on Lucifer's back as a 'friendly gesture,' resulting in the angel snapping his wings shut and de-summoning them.

And being one for revenge, Lucifer lunged at the radio demon, starting the cat-and-mouse game all over again.

#sfw tickling community #tickle community #tickle fic #tickling #hazbin hotel tickle #hazbin tickles #lee!lucifer

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aestheticaltcow · 4 months

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Family Ties

I love that the fandom sees Carmy as a girl dad who practices gentle parenting. Gentle parenting is a great parenting style, don't get me wrong. Personally, I can see him butting heads with his teenage daughter like he wants her to express herself- but he also knows that teenage boys are weird and would want to protect her at all costs. This was just a thought I had a couple of days ago, and once I started, I couldn't stop. More Dad!Carmy content to come...

A/N: I didn't realize until I copy pasted this from my Google Drive. This was 6 freakin pages. I like longer fics, I'm sorry.

Carmy was furious. It took a lot of effort for him to ‘gentle parent’ with you when the kids, Grace and Oliver, were little. Now that both kids are in high school, he wishes he had been harder on them. You reassure him that the two of you have great kids, both work hard in school, participate in extracurricular activities, and aren’t afraid to talk to them about anything - he insisted he should have been harder on them, especially when he gets calls from the school about Oliver getting suspended… again.

Oliver was 15, and Carmy was convinced he was Mikey's reincarnation. Like you had, he did well in school, but he was Mikey in every other aspect of life. He just needed to get his head out of his ass before out-of-school suspension became stints in jail.

As Carmy walked down the hall to the principal’s office, he saw Oliver sitting on a bench talking to Grace- Grace, his little girl, granted she wasn’t as little anymore. She’s 17 and looked exactly like you when you were her age- except she had gotten his eyes. “Oliver.” Carmy barked, getting his attention.

Grace looked at her brother nervously. Carmy wasn’t the kind of Dad to ‘approve’ of her clothing, but he’d fight her on it occasionally, especially regarding crop tops and dresses. It came from a place of caring and not wanting his little girl to get hurt, but Carmy could take it too far.

Carmy noticed Grace turning the opposite way to get away from the Berzatto boys,

“Grace? Shouldn’t you be in class or somethin’?” Carmy questioned; she stopped in her tracks, knowing Carmy wasn’t in the best mood. She turned around and hoped he was too mad, Oliver, to notice the cropped corset she’d worn to school that day. It’s not like she’d worn it to get a guy to notice her; she’d just liked the contrast of its light green color with her baggy jeans, and she was supposed to match outfits with the rest of the dance team that day so he couldn’t be mad at it- especially since he’d encouraged her to join the dance team freshman year. “Someone texted me that Oli was out here- just wanted to make sure no one beat my baby brother’s ass.” she laughed. Carmy shot her his classic ‘I’m your father, I know when you’re lying look’ but shook his head; he was not ready to deal with that. “Put on a sweater.” Grace nodded at Carmy’s casual dislike of her top, “Yes, sir.”

Initially, Carmy was going to let it slide. He knew Grace was 17, she was going to college next year, and he wouldn’t be able to encourage her to make the right decision anymore, but while she was under his roof, she’d live by his rules. You laughed when he brought it up to you that night in bed. “Carmy, she’s a good kid. Gracie has good grades. She has good friends. She works; if she wants to wear a crop top, she can wear a crop top.” Carmy sighed. He saw the point you’d been trying to make with that explanation but wasn’t happy.

Grace hoped Carmy wouldn’t bring up her wardrobe, but unfortunately, she was wrong. Carmy had hired an older brother of one of Grace’s friends at The Bear- that’s how he’d found out about Grace’s non-family Instagram account. She hadn’t posted anything too scandalous; there were some pictures from parties where she was holding a red Solo cup, a few from a dance competition after-party where she’d been wearing something Carmy wouldn’t have allowed her to leave the house in, and of course the soft launch of her relationship. He was seething; you hadn’t known about the account either- you’d heard Grace talk to her cousins about a boy she liked, but the drinking and parties also surprised you.

“Carmy, you neeeeed to be careful with how you speak to Grace about this,” you emphasized through the phone. Of course, this would come up when you were out of town. “Baby, I’ll handle it.” “Carmen Anthony Berzatto. Do not, I repeat, do not shame our daughter. You can tell her you’re unhappy-” “I’ll handle it.” he hung up, and you knew you’d be walking into a shit storm when you returned home.

“Fuck off, Dad!” Grace screamed as she slammed her bedroom door. To say Carmy mishandled the situation would be an understatement; he stood outside Grace’s door, immediately regretting what he’d said about Grace. He questioned her character; he knew she was a good kid; he wanted to knock on her door and apologize, but Grace didn’t want to hear it.

Oliver sat in his bedroom and heard Carmy and Grace yell at each other throughout the weekend. He laughed when he realized Carmy double-downed on what he’d initially said about Grace ‘not being that kind of girl.’ and how people would ‘never take her seriously’ when he dropped the word ‘whore’ he knew there would be hell when you came home. The front door slammed, and he heard Carmy yell ‘fuck’ and slam a door. He looked out his bedroom window to see Grace running up the street. Oliver sighed and fished his phone out of his pocket; “Oli fuck off.” Grace huffed before immediately hanging up on him. He rolled his eyes and dialed your number. “Hi baby, everything okay?” “Nope.”

The house was antagonistic. Carmy was pissed at himself, you and Grace were also pissed at him, and Oliver managed to sink into the background. The family dinners you’d shared were typically full of conversation and life, but tonight was awkwardly silent. Oliver decided he’d take a crack at making it better, “Uncle Richie got to 100 Instagram followers. He’s pretty excited about it.” no one took the bait. He poked at the chicken on his plate, “Good dinner, am I right?” he grinned, looking around the table. Grace rolled her eyes and stood up from the table, “Grace?” you called after her. She ignored your question and went upstairs. “Well, I think it’s a good dinner- conversation wasn’t the best, but… we’ll get through it.” Oliver tried to lighten the tension in the room, but he inevitably failed, and Carmy told him to go to his room. Oliver obliged, taking his and Grace’s plates to the sink before shuffling upstairs. He walked past Grace’s room on the way. He paused and stood before the door; it was too quiet. He knocked softly before opening the door; she was gone.

“I just don’t know what to say to him. I’m pissed.” Grace vented as she lay beside Eva in the park by her apartment, “My dad was the same way, except he threw my clothes away. My mom ripped him a new one over it.” “Should I accept his apology and move out as soon as possible?” Eva shook her head and laughed at the suggestion. “Gracie, you know what you need to do.” Grace sighed, knowing her cousin was right. She sat up and pushed her hair back. “I’m gonna hide out at Danny’s house. Cover for me?” “Of course. Don’t get pregnant.”

“Gracie girl? Can I come in, honey?” you asked outside her door, but there was no response. “Baby, please?” you asked again. “She’s not home,” Oliver said, walking past you to the bathroom. “What do you mean she’s not home?” he shrugged. “I guess she snuck out after dinner.”. You pinched the bridge of your nose in frustration before walking into your and Carmy’s bedroom, “You have to fix this, Carmen.” you scolded in your best mom voice he’d heard a thousand times, granted it was typically directed at one of the kids. “Baby, how can-” “Carmen. If you ever want to be inside me again, you’ll fix this.” Carmy leaned back against the headboard; he didn’t think something like this could be fixed.

“Oh, hi, Grace.” Danny’s mom greeted her when she realized she was sitting on the couch with Danny. “Hi, Mrs. De Luca.” she smiled back, “How are you, sweetheart?” Grace shrugged at the question, “Been better.” “Oh, I’m sorry, Grace,” she frowned before turning her attention to her son “Danny. I need you to take Annie to school tomorrow morning, okay? I’m doin’ an overnight.” Danny nodded in acknowledgment. She smiled again and quickly ran out of the house, leaving Danny and Grace in the living room and Danny’s sister Annie upstairs, tucked into bed.

“So. What’s goin on with you?” Danny finally asked. He wasn’t mad that she’d come over unannounced, but it was obvious that Grace had been crying. Grace shrugged at the question, “Guess I just wanted to see you.” Danny scoffed. “Grace. Com’ on. You only come over on weeknights when you’re upset.” “Do not.” Grace challenged, leaning into his side. “I will tickle it out of you, baby. You should just tell me what’s up.” he insisted, sitting up slightly. Grace groaned and sat up, bringing her knees to her chest. She told him that she and Carmy were fighting about her ‘secret online life that everyone can see’ and how ‘she’s not that kind of girl,’ so why was she pretending to be? She was hesitant to include the part where Carmy had called her a whore, but as she looked at Danny’s sympathetic face, she couldn’t hold back. “The house is awkward- Oli tried to make a joke out of it, but it was just so fuckin’ annoying. I’m just disappointed in myself… he’s never mad at me, Danny.” Danny nodded. “I get that. What me to beat him up for callin’ you a whore? You know I will.” Grace rolled her eyes. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

Carmy sat outside on the porch smoking when he saw headlights coming in his direction; it was almost 2 in the morning. He sighed and took a final puff before ashing his cigarette. He assumed it was Grace, and he was correct. He heard her say her goodbyes to whoever dropped her off and waited for her to come up the driveway. “Hi, Grace.” he greeted, his lips pulling into a tight line due to their growing awkwardness. “Dad,” she responded, crossing her arms over her stomach. “Where were you?” “With Eva.” Carmy nodded. “Can I talk to you?” Grace shrugged and moved closer to Carmy. “I want to apologize, Gracie. I shouldn’t have said that about you. You have a good head on those shoulders- but I don’t want you to get hurt. Girls who posted stuff like that online when I was 17… you know what happened. Rumors and shit- I just don’t want people doin' that to you.” he explained, scratching at the back of his neck. Grace nodded, taking in what he’d said. “I understand, but I’m not a little girl anymore, Dad. I can handle myself; if I can’t, Danny has my back.” Carmy nodded, “We good?” he asked, looking down at Grace. He smiled when he saw her pulling her sleeves over her hands like when she was a little girl and felt uneasy. “We’re good.” Grace agreed. Carmy brought her into a lazy hug and kissed the top of her head. “I love you, always.” Grace smiled and hugged Carmy back, “I love you too, Dad.”

As the two went inside, Carmy remembered something she’d said, “Who’s Danny?” Grace stopped and looked up at Carmy cautiously. “Uh… he’s my- my boyfriend…”

#the bear #carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto imagine #carmen berzatto one shot #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy the bear #carmen berzatto x you #carmy berzatto #dad!carmen berzatto #dad!carmy x reader

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