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lenreli · 1 day

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The King and His Friend [Dreamling Week Day 1 - Indulgence]

[AO3] | [Dreamling Week '24 Masterpost]

G, 2.1k.

Hob deals with his own feelings for his returned friend, and the fact that Dream has become a fixture in his life.

Hob is used to the indulgences of life. The frozen food, always available and out-of-season if he wants it, the reverse cycle air conditioner he has at home, which can both be cooling and heating. So many books and foods to try, fusions of those who’ve moved countries, other countries adapting food―

Though, Hob is only getting used to the newest indulgence of having Dream ― Dream ― back in his life. Seeing him in the daylight, in the sunset, the small smiles gifted his way as they. Well, usually it’s him talking, still, as they talk and he drinks and complains about the essays of his students, about what they’ve been up to.

He almost doesn’t notice the slow build of feelings, happy as he is with Dream’s company. His oldest friend, the one who knows the worst and the best of him, visiting him more often and he gets comments from others about how he’s even happier than usual.

Right. The feelings. Which, of course Dream is pretty and regal, a painting put into the real world (waking world, Dream would say), but it’s when he’s finally convincing Dream to try some of the Malaysian satay chicken he’s making, a spoon of the sauce he blows on as Dream leans in and takes a sip of the sauce, and his heart skips.

“Good?” He asks, wide-eyed as Dream blinks, and Hob swallows down a cough at how raspy his voice is. He’s not sure what made Dream actually eat it when he asked, but now he only regrets it the tiniest bit as he sees Dream’s long eyelashes, the deep blue of his eyes.

“Wonderful,” Dream intones. Before Hob can get another word out, there’s a brush against a finger as Dream takes the spoon, licking the back of it with a pleased hum.

“That’s―good,” he chokes out, wrestling with the sudden need to see more of Dream’s pink tongue, to touch the pale cheekbones. “What made you want to try?”

There’s another hum as Dream puts the spoon in his mouth, looking through his lashes. “My sister enjoys human food. Perhaps there’s something to it.”

“It is pretty good,” he attests, pulse rushing as Dream licks his lips, cleaning off sauce.

Before, Dream was untouchable. He thought of terrifying and exciting trysts with the person he met every century, but nothing concrete or emotional. And now, with Dream more in his life, a friend that shows up to his lectures sometimes, or just for a beer and a chat. One notable example of Hob coming back to his home after a long day at the university, to see Dream curled up in the lounge room with one of his books.

And it’s so domestic, as they get used to each other in a way that isn’t every 100 years, as he gets used to a ― still prideful ― Dream, but who seems to find his house, and himself, a place to relax. Hob’s heart always melts as he watches the weight that disappears from Dream’s shoulders when he arrives.

Even now, with him marking a pop quiz, and Dream watching TV, fascinated by some CG-full action movie, it feels comfortable, and like he could just reach out and…

“Do you wish to change the channel?” Dream asks, and Hob almost bursts into laughter at hearing the words so perfectly enunciated, like the fate of the world rests on it.

“Uh, no,” he says with a grin and sits closer, able to feel Dream’s low heat. “It’s just nice, having you here more.”

At this, Dream manages to look away from the TV, blue eyes shiny and wet as Dream’s face goes through minute expressions, eventually settling on something like shock. “That’s not something I hear often,” Dream says quietly, looking back at the TV and Hob’s heart tries to make its way into the way Dream tries to make himself smaller.

“Dream,” Hob says gravely, Dream’s attention snapping back to him, “can I hug you?”

Dream gapes, mouth opening and closing a few times before turning back to the TV, “if you would like.” Dream mumbles, tensing as ― Hob doesn’t move.

“Do you want a hug?” He presses, knowing how his friend is very ― prickly, to put it mildly. Dream purses his lips and gives him a tiny nod, blue eyes watching him warily as Hob puts down his quizzes and hugs him.

Dream is bony and sharp, and there’s a gust near his ear as he holds onto Dream’s form tightly. His friend tenses even more, but eventually, slowly ― very slowly, starts to relax, hands eventually ending up on his back as they hug.

“You are in front of the television,” Dream says after however many minutes, and Hob chuckles as he moves to more of a side-hug, an arm around Dream’s shoulder as he pulls his quizzes closer to continue marking.

After that, Hob’s tactility always comes into play, holding onto Dream’s hands, putting a hand on the other’s shoulder, or in this case ― stroking the soft black hair, as Dream reads a book next to him on the sofa in his tiny office at the university.

“I will have to go back to work soon,” he says, shaking his empty container of salad he had for lunch. Dream grunts and burrows even closer to him, and Hob grins,, affection filling him as Dream’s head bumps into his hand, an ask for more, which he complies with easily.

“Must you?” Dream asks, blue eyes moving to stare at him blankly.

“It’s not like I tell you to not go to that important fae delegation or―” Dream blinks and raises an eyebrow, and Hob’s face heats, “well. Once! Okay, how about you just join me in my lecture anyway,” give the students something to talk about, he doesn’t say as he gets up, putting his container back into his bag.

“What is the subject for this lecture?” Dream asks, smoothly standing next to him, a hand clamping onto his wrist.

“Uh,” he frowns and gets out his books, “ah. Monarchy, mainly, how they affected the ordinary people,” he frowns as he puts everything into his bag, closing it and putting it on his back. “Are you going to stay for dinner?” He asks as they walk through the campus to his classroom, people’s eyes sliding over Dream as they wave at him.

“If nothing urgent arises,” Dream says once they’re closer. Standing at the door, Hob looks down at the hand around his wrist, grip like a vice still.

“I’m going to need that back,” he whispers, pointing at his wrist and Dream only blinks slowly, eventually releasing his wrist. Dream glides in after him as he gets his laptop and books out, setting things up.

“You keep spoiling me,” Hob breathes, heart beating quickly as Dream stops, looking up from his miniature ― work, the black sand moulded into terrible and beautiful shapes.

“Spoiling?” Dream echoes, blinking.

“With your presence,” he offers, sitting down across from Dream. There’s another blink and the black sand disappears, Dream’s shoulders tightening up, “it’s a good thing, Dream. I like having you here,” he explains before the entity can disappear, and Dream looks baffled now, a crease between his brows.

Dream opens his mouth, shuts it as he looks at the creature he’s moulding. “I like being here,” is what Dream settles on at last, shoulders coming down as Dream looks at him through his lashes. “You do not mind that I work here?”

“I dunno, I may have to introduce you to a work-life balance eventually, but this is the first I’ve seen of it, and it looks cool as fuck,” he grins, resting his head on his hands as he looks at the miniature version of a person.

Dream’s smiles at him, tiny and lopsided and the miniature fills in with more detail, black sand shifting under the entity’s gaze and fingers. “It will,” Dream pauses, looking up briefly, then back down to his work. “I plan for it to be a safe harbour for those in difficult times.”

“They’re not that bad to deserve that look,” he complains as he takes a bite of his Korean fried chicken. Dream, meanwhile, continues his wary stare at the plate in front of him. Dream gives him a narrow stare and Hob licks his lip, self-conscious of the mess as he takes another bite. “I’m pretty sure no-one would care if you ate it with a fork and knife,” he pauses, “maybe.”

“Many people dream of these,” Dream says, conceding as he picks a piece up delicately, turning his hand around to look at the sauce-covered meat. “Is it spicy?”

“I tend to go towards a high-level of spice, so yes,” he nods, “though this place does do different spice levels as well. Do you even like spice?”

Dream blinks, still staring down the piece of chicken he’s holding, “I am unsure, though. It has been so long. I should be able to handle it, of course,” Dream intones, voice going deeper as he considers the chicken before taking a bite, sauce ending up on the corner of his lip as he eats it.

Hob blinks, watching as Dream’s expression changes ― confusion, alarm, then pleased ― “does it pass the test?” He asks, waiting for the verdict.

“It bites back,” Dream says in wonder and Hob can only grin as Dream devours his piece, bone and all. Though, the bone bit did make him look to see if the other people were seeing it. Dream picks up another piece and once Hob’s sure that Dream’s working whatever magic he does to be unnoticed, does he relax, trying not to look too closely at the way Dream licks his pink lips to get rid of the sauce.

“Ordering more, then,” he says dryly, finishing off his own chicken piece as Dream devours the rest, uncaring of the sauce that ends on his face and fingers.

“Oh yes.”

Hob wakes slowly, mind hazy as he pats the soft hair of the person hugging him.

Wait. He’s pretty sure he didn’t go to bed with anyone last night. Cracking a yawn, he looks down to see familiar black hair. “Dream,” he murmurs, groggy as continues to pat the other’s hair, the entity under the covers with him.

“As you say, you spoil me,” Dream says, voice hushed and Hob suppresses a shiver at that deep voice so close to his chest, and with him still half-asleep. “In your dream, you said you wouldn’t mind.”

Sounds like me, he thinks, “and I was right. Just surprising, is all.” Dream hums, head nodding against his chest. “Did we talk about anything else?” Hob tries to remember, there’s only a gauzy, soft haze and Hob can only think about flowers.

“No. We mainly enjoyed each other’s presence,” Dream answers, and Hob wheezes as arms go around his waist and squeeze him tightly. “I had a,” Dream pauses, head moving up and Hob aches at the wetness in Dream’s eyes, the crease on his forehead. “Trying time.”

Hob yawns once more as moves to press out the crease on the other’s forehead, “hope it’s a bit less trying for you now.”

Dream gives him a tiny smile as he goes back to stroking the other’s hair, and Dream hums, leaning into his hand so his fingers brush against a pale ear. “You have helped immensely.”

“‘S what I like to hear,” he grins ― and then the alarm on his phone starts blaring, metal music reminding him that it's time to get up. Groaning, he leans over to turn it off. “That, on the other hand.”

Hob is getting a snack and a drink from his kitchen when he realises he’s walked past Dream, who is sitting on the sofa, back straight. “Dream? Are you okay?” Frowning, he takes his snack and tea from the counter, sitting next to his friend.

Dream looks at him, then looks at the TV, which isn’t even on. “If there is a story,” Dream begins, voice deep and Hob would almost say nervous. “About a king, who,” Dream stops, throat moving.

“Who what?” He asks, slowly eating his chocolate as Dream seems to find the words, brows furrowed.

“Who. Hypothetically, has strong emotions for his,” Dream gives him a quick glance, and Hob tries to ignore how much his heart is racing. “Very strong emotions for his best friend. Only friend, one might say, considering his other friend’s also his subjects,” even with how quietly Dream speaks, and Hob sucks in a breath, the words loud and clear, ringing in his brain. “How do you think it would go?”

Licking his lips, Hob scrambles some words together, joy and happiness which he restrains with how grave Dream is, like he’s waiting for something terrible. “Um, hypothetically,” he starts, “his best friend has many strong emotions for the king also.” Dream’s eyes go wide, shock clear as they stare at him, “but they can take things slow. Or fast. There’s all the time in the world. The universe, even. If the king wants.”

Hob smiles as Dream mulls over his answer.

[Fin]

#dc #the sandman #dreamling #dream x hob #dream of the endless #hob gadling #dreamling fanfic #dreamling week #dreamling week 2024 #writing #some fluff to kick off my week!

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wonuwrites · 1 day

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Seventeen's Reaction When You Can't Sleep At Night.

Anyone else having a rough time sleeping lately or is it just me? Past few nights have been rough so I thought of this little thing. Also was inspired to write this based off the song "When You Can't Sleep At Night" by Of Mice And Men. Hope y'all enjoy it.

Warning: mentions death of a loved one, anxiety, nightmares, fluff/angst in some places, minor cussing, fairly sfw but Dino's is a bit suggestive so MDNI, oh also some pet names like: Sweetheart, Baby. Love, Babe, idk the cute names and shit lmfao.

☾ S. Coups:

Your mind was racing and you couldn't help but stare up at the ceiling. You felt a bit guilty because you kept tossing and turning when you were attempting to fall asleep. Seungcheol who was next to you didn't say anything but you made him turn slightly as well while keeping his arm loosely around your waist. He was sound asleep and truth be told you envied him. You wish you could sleep like him. As if he could hear your envious thoughts, you felt his lips on your shoulder before he pulled you closer to him. "Still awake, sweetheart?" You nodded before turning over to look at him. He kissed you and pulled you closer to him. He'd ask you what was on your mind and would do everything in his power to help you sleep. He wouldn't even close his eyes until he knew you were asleep for sure.

☾ Jeonghan:

You made your way into the kitchen to get a cup of water. You were almost 80% convinced that sleep was not going to happen that night because a random bout of anxiety was just eating you alive. What was the anxiety? You had no fucking clue but it just kept nagging at you and you hated it. You just felt so small and you couldn't find your center. You remember a luke warm glass of water used to help one of your friends back in high school so you decided to try it. You only took a sip before tears threatened to fall which made you take a shaky breath. You leaned against the kitchen counter and tried your best not to breakdown but that didn't work to well. Soon you just let it out. You didn't know how long you were there but you felt someone come up behind you and pull you into his embrace. Jeonghan noticed you were taking awhile to come back to bed and decided to look for you. When he found you crying in the kitchen he felt his heart break into a million pieces. He wanted to give you space at first but also felt that you needed someone at that time so he just came and hugged you. You started to cry into his chest harder which he just rocked you until you were done and ready to talk about it. Sleep could wait.

☾ Joshua:

The first few nights after Jisoo left for tour or various schedules were the worst. You had become completely reliant on him and needed to feel his side of the bed had something in it. You had done everything to make it seem that way with adding weighted blankets, books, or even a pet. Nothing worked long term and tonight you felt it. You thought maybe you could gaslight yourself and get some rest that way but no. Nothing was working. Your eyes were tired but the rest of you was not. You decided to scroll on social media and watch fancams of him and hope that would help and it almost did until Jisoo decided to shoot you a text to let you know that he had just got to his hotel. Instinctively, you called him which made him nervous and confused. It was nearly 2:30 am in where you were and you were awake? Before he could even scold you in concern you told him you couldn't sleep. His heart would hurt a bit because he knew that you struggled sleeping when he was not there. He just stayed on the phone with you until you fell asleep. Even then he stayed on a little longer just to hear your breathing. "I'll be home soon, (Y/N,)" he would whisper, "I love you, always."

☾ Jun:

You had a huge project coming up at work in the next week and you were struggling to sleep. Jun didn't realize how bad it was until he stayed the night and noticed you were no longer snuggled into his side. He walked around the house while rubbing his eye trying to find you but it was as if you vanished. He almost gave up until he found a light under a closet door and he found it weird. He knocked on the door while whispering your name which made you gasp in shock. Before you could hide the evidence of papers everywhere Jun opened the closet door and looked at you with an emotionless face. You looked down embarrassed which made him sit down on the floor across from you. He would slowly gather the paperwork, and when you tried to protest he would just shake his head. "Baby," he would whisper, "tomorrow is your day off, how about we practice your project tomorrow after a good night rest?" You tried to protest again but he just looked at you with a pleading look. You would then feel guilty before nodding and looking down. This hurt Jun's heart because he didn't want to be a controlling person but truth be told he was worried for you. He leaned over and kissed both your left and right cheeks before helping both of you up. He led you back into the bedroom while whispering sweet nothings to you. Once you got into bed, he left the room to "hide" your project before joining you.

☾ Hoshi:

You shot up in bed screaming after having the most realistic nightmare. This nightmare has haunted you for years but you thought it was over. Especially with you now dating Soonyoung. Soonyoung jolted up as well asking what was wrong while wrapping his arms around you. You starting weeping into his chest which made him scared as hell. He hugged you as you kept saying "no" and tried his best to calm you down. His eyes started water as he realized soon that you were mumbling apologies to your ex who had passed away in the past. He never asked any information about his death but he knew that it hurt you a lot. He knew the best thing he could do was rock you and kiss the top of your head until you calmed down. Once you did, he held you like that until you started to cry again and apologizing to him. You didn't want Soonyoung to think you loved your ex more because it wasn't the truth. He whispered that you didn't need to apologize and reminded you that he was there for the good, the bad, and the ugly. "Baby, you don't have to tell me a thing if it's too much, but I'm here to listen if you are ever ready. I want to help. I love you, okay?" "okay."

☾ Wonwoo:

Your best friend recently passed from a freak accident and it was just eating you alive. Why did they have to go? Why so soon? You didn't even get to say a proper goodbye and that's what killed you. You just missed them so much and your heart hurt from it. Work had be generous and gave you a bereavement period but staying alone in your thoughts somehow made this time worse for you. You didn't admit it to anyone but Wonwoo knew you were struggling really bad. He saw the signs and knew you weren't sleeping well. Which is why Wonwoo was staying over the night of the funeral so he could do everything in his power to help you. Not with words but with actions. He made you tea and put soft music while you sat on the couch in a blanket while scrolling through your friends instagram. His heart hurt for you because he knew what it was like to lose someone. He sat next to you and put an arm around you. You leaned up against him, "I miss them," you whispered. "I know, I'm sorry." He continued to hold you until finally went to sleep.

☾ Woozi:

After a hour of tossing and turning, you realized that sleep was just not an option. You didn't know why it was so hard to sleep but it just was. You sighed as you turned on your phone and noticed Jihoon had just sent you an instagram reel. You couldn't help but smile at his name and watched the reel with a smile across your face. When you reacted to the reel you got a call pretty soon from him which you quickly answered. "You're still up?" He asked before you could even say 'hello.' This made you scoff before saying, "I could say the same thing about you." "Eh, I have an excuse. I'm in the studio." You rolled your eyes before getting an idea. "Can I come by? I can't sleep and wanna be near you. I promise I won't annoy you." He chuckled and hummed a bit. "Sure, wanna spend the night too when we are both finally sleepy?" "Yes please. I'll be there in 10."

☾ DK:

One of your many quirks was panic baking. Whenever you were stressed about something you would bake. It didn't matter if it was brownies, cakes, bread, cupcakes, lemon bars, or whatever. So many of your friends loved this little habit about you but they didn't realize you would do this instead of sleep most nights. However, Seokmin did. He came home after a long day of schedules when he smelt some goodies come from the kitchen. Normally people would be excited to smell goodies but not at 1:30 in the morning. He would sigh and make his way to the kitchen. There he saw you taking out some cupcakes. He waited for you to set the hot plate down before he called out your name. You jumped and looked at him as if you were a deer in headlights. He gave you a concerned look and that's when you broke down and told him you couldn't sleep because you were nervous so you baked because that "was all you were good at." As you continued to breakdown in front of Seokmin, he quickly made his way to you and just rocked you while you fell apart. He whispered sweet nothings and stayed there for awhile before promising to clean up the kitchen so you could take a shower in hopes it would make you sleepy.

☾ Mingyu:

It was one of those nights where sleep was the enemy. You just kept tossing and turning to a point where you were just getting annoyed. You had tried everything from white noise to brewing some sleepy time tea. Nothing worked. It wasn't until you started scrolling through instagram and noticed Mingyu just posted a photodump. You liked it instinctively and automatically got a call from your concerned boyfriend. It was 2am and his royalty was still awake? Unacceptable. When you answered his heart broke when he realized that you were struggling to sleep so he did what any good boyfriend would do and came over to snuggle. Hopefully he could help you sleep.

☾ Minghao:

It was a sleepless night the night before and you promised Minghao to a brunch date. You were exhausted by the time you got there but tried your best to shake it off so he wouldn't worry. However, Minghao knew how to read you like a book so you were not able to fool him one bit. He would just order the food to go and take your cute ass home so you could get some proper rest. He would wait for you to tell him if anything was going on but would just take care of you by brewing you a tea or cuddling you to sleep.

☾ Seungkwan:

Sleeping was never one of your talents. Honestly, you never could get the right amount of sleep. It would either be too much or too little. To say this didn't concern Seungkwan would be a lie. He would often ask how your sleep schedule was and if you mentioned you got less than 3 hours the night before his heart would break. Unlike Minghao, he would ask if anything was bothering you or what was going on but that's just because he wanted to make sure you were okay. If you were going through something, he would try his best to work it out with you. He even would offer a shoulder to sleep on if you got sleepy throughout the day.

☾ Vernon:

To say you tried to sleep was an understatement. You were tossing and turning, counting all the sheep, and even tried to gaslight yourself that you were asleep. However, nothing worked. You still laid wide awake while your precious boyfriend was asleep peaceful next to you. You sighed as you turned one last time and surprisingly that woke Hansol up. He rubbed his eye before flinging an arm around you and pulling you closer. "You okay, babe?" He would ask with his voice all gruffy sounding due to the sleep. "yeah... sorry." He didn't believe you and would roll you over so you were making eye contact, he tried to figure it out telepathically but he couldn't so he kissed your nose instead. The gesture made you scoff before snuggling into him. "I'm fine, just can't sleep very well tonight." He'd hum while playing mindlessly with your hair. "We can put on a movie if you want?" You would smile into his chest before whispering an "ok." It was moments like these when you were thankful he was there.

☾ Dino:

You sighed before sat up to get out of bed. Sleep was just not in the cards and honestly there were other things you could do instead of getting a restless night of sleep. However, you momentarily forgot your adorable boyfriend, Chan, was cuddled up next to you and his grasp tightened as you tried to escape his grasp. Him being stubborn made you giggle which made him smile before he looked up at you. "You can't leave me yet, it's still dark outside." You would sigh before wrapping your arms around him as well in defeat. "Sorry babe, I just can't sleep." "Mmm, why?" "I don't know. I've tried everything." He then opened his eyes a bit and gave you a little smirk, "I mean not everything...." You could feel what he meant and giggled before kissing him and hoping he could *literally* wear you out.

It's finally out. Please lmk your favorite one. Personally I loved writing DK's part. (as usual. It's so easy for me to write for him,) Please lmk what yall liked tho <3

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welcomedepression · 2 days

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Cw: 18+ Only! MDNI! Smut!

GhostxReader!

"The rain is coming down hard. It looks like we'll be spending the night in this cave." I sigh and sit down on the hard ground.

Ghost looks around. "We have no choice.." he sits down beside you, the sound of the rain is loud, the air is damp, and the rocks are slick

"Why are you so distant?" I look at him. it's a question that has been plaguing my mind.

He stays silent for a moment, his mask covering any emotion that may be displayed. His face, he finally answers you in a monotone, cold voice. "I've seen a lot of things. Some people would break if they saw what I had."

"I understand that, I just wish you weren't so cold towards me, I hate when you make me feel like I'm not a part of the squad." I sigh, but my eyes never leave his.

he gets up and paces around. He's breathing heavily, he's fighting some kind of internal battle, then he finally sits down again. "i can't...... i can't get close to you, i cant do it. "

"What about Captain Soap? Don't you trust him?" I look at him curious.

He hesitates. "Yes, but.. something about you.. I can't figure it out.." He looks away, his cold eyes hidden by the shadow of his mask.

"What do you mean by that?" I was confused.

he looks at you, he's looking at you with eyes of pain, pain he hasnt let out. "I- i dont know, i feel like i could trust you, but i've been hurt before."

"Don't let fear dictate your actions. I'm sorry if I came on too strong, but I know you can trust me." I smiled and pat his shoulder.

he looks at the ground. "I don't think you know the weight of what you're saying, the pain i've gone through. It's made me like this." He gestures at himself.

"I know, but you're not alone." I squeeze his hand.

He sighed, "Do you mind if I remove my mask?"

"Go ahead, it's just us two." I smiled.

He reaches up and take off his mask, he turns to look at me, his brown eyes meet yours, there's a small scar above my left eyebrow, his hair is messy, voice is still monotone and cold. "There we go, better?"

"Your hair is messy. "I chuckled.

He rolled his eyes playfully "yeah, I know, I was attacked by a tiger, then I had to get out of a cave and then run all the way here, I didn't have time to brush it!" He chuckled along with you. His eyes still are cold and distant, but they're not as emotionless as before.

Asmile breaks across my face as I laugh, "You're bad at lying."

He laughs, "Yeah, yeah, I'm a liar, but at least I'm a funny liar, unlike Captain Soap, he's got no humor." He teases.

"We should start a fire and get out of these wet clothes." *I was shivering."

Later

We started a fire and a makeshift clothes line.

Slowly undressing, I stopped midway as I looked at ghost, my eyes widened with horror, half of his muscular body was molted, reddish, purple hue overshadows his light skin.

"Oh my god, ghost! Your scars!" He looked over at me, at my reaction. He wonders if I'm disgusted.

Ghost looks away, "I-its fine, please dont worry about it."

"I'm sorry to pry, it's just i've never seen so many scars on someone before.. it must've been hell." I look at him with a face of disdain.

Ghost sighs, "It's a long story, but yes, I've experienced a lot. It's made me who I am today."

my fingertips brushed over the molted flesh, the uneven flesh is taut and slightly bumpy. "They're beautiful, all of them, every inch of you."

He suddenly freezes. He's shocked that you'd call such horrible scars beautiful.

I replaced my fingertips with my lips, kissing the delicate skin, slightly gliding my tongue across the disfigured chest. "Beautiful"

Ghost is stunned by the sudden action. "w-why?.. I'm all.. broken, scarred, not good-looking, I'm a mess."

"You're the only man that I want to be with." I kiss his from his collarbone up to his neck, nipping at his flesh.

Ghost blushes, "You really think that?.. I've never been good enough for anyone."

I kiss his cheek, "You're perfect to me." I place a hand behind his head and pull him in, kissing him passionately.

he kisses back, his heart beating like crazy "I-I thought, you'd find me disgusting."

I pull away slightly, looking up into his eyes

"There's not a single part of you that isn't beautiful."

Ghost hesitates, then pulls you in for another kiss, wrapping his arms around you tightly. Suddenly, I feel my back make contact with the damp ground. I run my hands up and across his chest, sharing a passionate kiss.

Later

Our bodies are one, as our moans fill the cave like a choir as the rain plays like a symphony, The undeniable pleasure rocks both of us to our core. Ghost spread my legs wide open so that his thrusts would go deeper and deeper as I moaned and whimpered.

"Slow down, we have all night."

He didn't slow down. Ghost loved rough sex.

Making sure I'd feel ever inch of his throbbing hard cock stretching my tight velvet walls.

"You're so tight, fuck!" Ghost grunted, not long before I felt the jagged ground of the cave digging into my knees as he fucks me behind in doggy style, having a fistful of my hair as he slaps my ass periodically.

As time progress so did our urge to climax, holding onto him tightly as we reached our peak together, collapsing against his chest.

Aftermath

Ghost smiles as he pulls you back into a kiss, and he whispers, "Promise one thing, y/n."

"Yes, what is it?" I look into his eyes, wondering what he wanted me to promise.

Ghost looks you in the eyes. He seems serious, the smile gone from his face, his voice low and serious. "If anything ever happened, if I was gone or hurt, or something, you'd never leave me, right?

"I promise, whatever happens, you're stuck with me." I whisper.

"I love you, Y/n."

"I love you too, Simon."

-THE END

#simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost x you #ghost x reader #ghost cod #ghost smut #cod fanfic #cod smut #cod fic #cod fluff #cod x reader #call of duty x reader #18+ content #18+ only #18+ account #18+ blog

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jenomong · 5 months

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"Numbers without sources Don't mean a thing to me at all Just enjoy it like we always have"

hongjoong, matz (2023)

#ateez #atz #atzedit #atzsource #kim hongjoong #hongjoong #*#me editing hongjoong: please stay still #please stay centred for a whole second #actually hongjoong's entire existence feels like #like he can't sit still. like he's always in a hurry #he's a very anxious workaholic #his verses feel vertiginously fast paced too #not just rhythm wise but his overall lyricism #cue: a walker #wish he could take some of that weight off his shoulders

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endotwrites · 4 months

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simon takes up a lot of space

cw: gn reader, insecurity surrounding physical appearance

a/n: i’m running out of ideas to write about so gimme some time to think mwah 🥹

simon sometimes forgets he takes up so much space. he’ll reach for something across from him only to knock something else off the table. or he’ll try and tiptoe down the stairs for a sneaky cigarette only for the stairs to groan under his weight.

sometimes, simon wishes he could manoeuvre in a way that no one would even realise he was there. like a ghost, drifting through the hallways instead of a 6’4 man with the broadest shoulders known to man.

when simon sits with his thoughts and prays to whoever will listen to just make him the slight amount smaller, you’re there to remind him how much you adore him.

all of him.

his large biceps that encapsulates the whole of you when you pout at him for a bear hug. his wide back that he lets you sit on when doing push ups. his soft stomach that have stretch marks similar to your own.

teaching one another to love themselves for who they are was always a massive part of your relationship and as much as simon reminds you that he will love you no matter what, you are always there to say the same for him.

even if he takes up 3/4 of your bed.

#endot writes #simon ghost riley #ghost call of duty #ghost cod #simon ghost x reader #simon riley #simon riley x reader #cod modern warfare #cod #cod x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley fanfic #ghost x reader #ghost drabble #ghost mw2 #cod mwii #cod mw3 #call of duty #endot sfw

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harrysbelovedd · 27 days

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espresso [rafe cameron]

“oh he looks so cute, wrapped round my finger..” ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

pairing - rafe cameron x reader

summary - rafe doesn’t do relationships, cuddling, kisses, and sweetness. strictly no commitment hookups had sufficed. that was until he met the girl at the coffee shop.

warnings - nothing rlly, just super sweet whipped rafe

Rafe was heartless. Cold. Rough. Any situation he had with girls was nothing more than that—a situation, a fling. He had absolutely zero desire to be in anything committed.

To his friends, his sisters, his family, and his hookups—he was a mean, heartless monster. (Only tolerating Wheezie, of course.)

And he liked it that way.

No one expected anything from him, no one bored him with their feelings. It made his life so much easier not being overly concerned about the well-being of others.

But today, when Wheezie dragged Rafe to some fancy coffee shop she’s been wanting to visit, his philosophy flew out the window.

“Yeah, I’ll have the caramel latte with cold foam,” the young girl recites her order. “Oh! And a chocolate croissant.”

“Yeah, for sure!” I smile at her, typing her order into the till. “Anything for you?” I turn my attention to the man next to her, presumably a father or brother—probably brother, he seems younger.

He doesn’t say anything, his gaze remaining intent on my features, like my words flew right past his ears.

“Um.. sir? Did you want anything?”

The girl next him sighs, shoving his shoulder. “Stop staring at her you creep.”

His head shakes, like he was snapped out of a trance. He comes to the situation at hand, pinching the bridge of his nose “I’m sorry, that was probably creepy, my bad,” he chuckles awkwardly. The girl next to him makes a face at him, surprised by his actions.

“It’s okay,” I smile. “I zone out a lot too,” I let out a small giggle, trying to make him feel more comfortable.

He grins, “Yeah, um, I’ll take a macchiato, thanks.”

“Great, and could I get a name for the order?”

“Whe—“

“Rafe,” he interjects. I grin, writing his name down.

He pays for the drinks, smiling at me before going to find a table with the girl.

“What was that?” Wheezie questions loudly.

“Shut it, Wheeze. I was zoned out, is all.”

She blows out a puff of air, “Yeah right, me and that barista could practically see the drool falling out of your mouth the second you laid eyes on—“

I kick Wheezie’s leg under the table when that same pretty barista comes by with our drinks.

“One caramel latte with cold foam and a chocolate croissant,” She smiles sweetly, placing the pastry and sugary drink in front of Wheezie. “And one macchiato for Rafe.”

When my name rolls off her tongue, I swear I see stars. She says it with a sweetness I’ve never heard before. Her voice so soft and kind. As she’s placing the drink in front of me, all I can think about it how much I wish I knew her name.

So, I incite a moment for her to tell me. “Thank you…” I pause, trailing off.

“Oh, Y/n!” She says, surprise I asked such a question.

Y/n. So fitting. It’s perfect.

“That’s a pretty name,” for a pretty girl, I wish to say.

She grins, her cheeks flushing a shy pink. “Thanks, if you guys need anything else, let me know!” She informs before wandering off.

Once she’s out of ear shot, Wheezie begins. “Might as well go kiss her over the coffee beans.”

“Oh, shut up, Wheeze.”

one year later

I walk through the doors of Tannyhill like I have so many times before, it’s become a second home.

“Hi, sweetie.” Rose says from the living room where she sips on a glass of wine, reading a book.

“Hi, Rose! Do you know where—“

“He’s in the gym with Topper and Kelce. Beware I hear a lot of groaning and shouting. Too much testosterone for their own good.” She jokes.

I chuckle, shaking my head as I head to the side of the house near the garage where the gym is. The blasting of rap music grows louder the closer I get along with the clanking of weights, and occasional grunts.

I open the door and see Topper and Kelce doing pull ups while Rafe bench presses. Rafe can’t see me due to obviously needing to stay focused.

“Hey, Y/n,” Topper greets, jumping down from the pull up bar.

Before I could ever reply with a greeting, Rafe hooks up the bench press, sitting up quickly. “Y/n?” He smiles, his smile faltering when he turns back toward his friends. “Aye, Kelce, turn that shit down.”

He gets up, walking toward me and pushing me out the door and back into the hallway. He closes the door behind him and his hands find their spot on my waist, a grin taking home on his lips. “Hey baby.”

I smile, my cheeks flushing pink. “Hi.”

“What’re you doing here?” He asks, his thumbs rubbing comforting circles into my skin that’s exposed near the hemline of my shirt.

My hands run up his chest, manicured nails running along the collar of his shirt. “Nothin’… just missed you is all.”

“Yeah?” He questions, that sly smirk on his lips. “You missed me, baby?”

“Yeah, come hang out with me? We can just stay upstairs or we can go to the beach maybe? Or go get lunch, hm?” I coo, my hands now running along his jaw, studying his every feature.

“Whatever you wanna do, my love. Just wanna spend time with you.” He leans in, his lips kissing their favorite spots along my jaw and neck. He pauses for a moment when he hears childish giggles from the other side of the door.

Topper and Kelce walk out, teasing grins on their faces. “I missed you baby,” Topper mocks. “I missed you more, come kiss me and spend time with me, please Y/n. Let me worship the ground you—“

Kelce was cut off by a rough punch to his shoulder. “Ow! Shit, Rafe. Not my fault you’re whipped.”

Topper and Kelce chuckle, walking past us toward the front door. “Try that shit again and you won’t be able to walk out of here!” Rafe threatens.

“Oh cmon, Rafe. They just know you’re wrapped around my finger,” I say loud enough for them to hear.

“Ain’t that the motherfuckin’ truth!” Topper shouts before shutting the front door behind him.

Rafe buries his head in my shoulder, “Baby, you’re just egging them on.”

I chuckle, “Sorry, you’re just so cute all wrapped around my finger.”

He looks back in my eyes, a smile on his lips. “I’m whipped and I’m proud.”

I chuckle, slapping his chest playfully as I drag him upstairs.

#obx fic #rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagines #rafe cameron fluff #rafe obx #rafe cameron blurb #rafe outer banks #rafe x reader #outer banks #outerbanks rafe

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gay-dorito-dust · 2 months

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How these guys would react to having their face held…

Dick smiles out of habit and pushes his face even further into your hands, humming in content.

He loves it when you held him, however that may be, as it was the one thing he looked forward to the most when coming home.

He’s prone to frequent bouts of fatigue with patrols and the like, but it was moments like these where he could truly appreciate your touch and the healing properties they have on him.

‘I could spend forever here in your hands.’ He’d sigh as he allowed himself to relax within your touch.

‘Oh really? Is that so?’ You raised your brows, watching as the features within his face relaxed into a one that showed you just how exhausted Dick looked. You could see the toll his job his job took but you knew that Dick was too devoted, too attached to what he does to ever give it up, no matter how constantly drained and tired it made him.

You respect his decision to keep doing what he was doing but there came times where you’d just wish he would take a breather from it all, even if it was just for a second, you just wanted to take the weight off of Dick’s shoulders and put it aside for a moment while you work the tension out of his aching muscles.

‘Yeah.’ He responded, feeling himself sink further into sleep. Dick loved what he does but some times he resents it for leaving him with little to no time to spend with you, at least not without him falling asleep five minutes within the interaction. Time with you was sparse and all Dick wanted to do was spend as much of it as he could to make up for the fact that he was barely home at all during the day.

He knew that he prioritised being a hero over your relationship too often and he couldn’t help but feel a tremendous amount of guilt over it during your relationship. You didn’t deserve to wait up for him every night to make sure he was okay, not while developing heavy eye bags of your own and a lack of a sleeping schedule.

He just hopes that one day you too will realise that you better then what he’s giving you and put yourself first, but you were too selfless to ever do that and he could feel that through the way you trace his features with your fingers with featherlight caresses.

Jason stiffens beneath your touch and goes unresponsive for such a long time that you were worried that you had accidentally crossed a boundary.

So just as you were about to remove your hands from his face, Jason quickly reaches out to grasp your hands and pull them back to cupping his cheeks as he then proceeded to nuzzle his cheek against your palm.

‘Stay.’ He whispered. ‘Please.’

Your heart broke at his plea but obeyed as you began to stroke his cheeks with either of your thumbs, feeling him gradually relax under your touch until he was practically a puddle in your hands.

‘I’m sorry.’ He whimpered, burying his face into your hands so that you didn’t see his tear stricken red face. ‘I don’t deserve this. None of it.’ He adds, cursing himself for being so pathetic but your touch practically broke him in the best way.

In your hands Jason felt as though all his broken prices were being put back together again through love, warmth and patience and that was enough to make him breakdown into tears.

Physical affection is a foreign concern to this poor man, and in due to that Jason is naturally going to be skeptical and on edge the moment the pads of your fingertips explore his jawline, before slowly coming up to cup his cheeks. ‘I’m right here Jaybridie.’ You utter softly as you felt his grip on your wrists slack a little. ‘I’m right here, I’m not going anywhere because nowhere is more important than staying here with you. Just take your time.’ And stay with him you did.

Damian is another one who’s not use to soft touches and sweet affection.

So he’ll initially be on guard when he saw you coming his way with your hands outstretched to cup his cheeks, but will huff and reluctantly rest his face in your palms, he’s extremely stiff while doing so and looking away from you out of initial embarrassment.

‘Get on with it.’ He’d mutter, acting as though such acts or moments of tenderness and vulnerability were beneath him, when in actuality Damian loved the feeling of you hold his face as though it were porcelain. He loved the fact that despite knowing his upbringing you still treat him with a love, kindness and warmth that he has never been shown before.

To Damian it was clear that you didn’t care if he was the son of Bruce Wayne and Talia al Ghul, grandson of Ra’s al Ghul. You only cared about him, Damian Wayne and he could feel that care through your touch as he vowed to cut through anything and everything that intended to harm you.

Your touch brings him a sense of calm, serenity and peace that brought him back from the brink a plethora of times, especially in moments when his arrogance and brashness would resurface. Damian was thankful for you being in his life, a true guiding light in his darkest moments, and he couldn’t think of any possible way to thank you for everything you’ve done for him but he’ll surly try.

Bruce feels the tension behind his eyes and in his jaw sooth themselves under your touch.

His eyes would slowly close as he brought his calloused hands up to gently stroke the inside of your wrists. Bruce needs no words to describe how he felt because he feels as though his expressions and the noises of content made it clear how much he appreciated you being here with him.

‘You look tired.’ You commented, tracing the weary lines on his hard face with your eyes as he observed your face and the way it showed most of your innermost emotions whether you were aware of this fact or not.

Bruce knew that you worry and that you worry a lot about him in particular when it came to whether he was sleeping enough, eating enough and keeping himself safe whilst fighting on the streets of Gotham. Bruce knew he was as stubborn as mule when it came to his life choices and that you were only just worried about him because you cared for him, but sometimes he wished you would redirect all this effort towards yourself because he oftentimes didn’t think he was worth of your worry, nor your care.

Bruce felt as though he should be the one taking care of you rather than you taking care of him. It’s not as though he hates it, it’s just you’ve shown him on countless occasions of your care towards him, and on even more occasions you have shown him of your unwavering dedication towards him. Bruce also feels like he should be the one paying you back for all the hard times where you stood by his side, watching him practically work himself to the bone and almost into a comatose if you didn’t step in and deal him away from the computers.

For you’ve proven time and time again that you weren’t so easily swayed into leaving, and that was made more true when he felt comfortable enough telling you that he was Batman and the dangers that would come with knowing such knowledge. You however only shrugged and told him that by his side, you were the safest you’ve ever been or will ever be.

‘More so than usual?’ He asked in a way that it might as well have came out as an indignant huff.

‘And by more so than usual you mean constantly, then yes, yes you are more tired than usual.’ You replied as you ran your thumbs under his eyes and across his eye bags as if to emphasise your point. Bruce only huffs as he watched you take in all of him with nothing but love and affection in your eyes and your touch.

John would most likely bite your hand out of an inherent need to be a teasing little shit.

Will boast about the fact that you just wanted to touch up his stubble. He wasn’t lying but you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing that and instead say; ‘in your dreams John.’

‘Oh I’m sure I am in yours.’ He reply with confidence as he winked, causing you to lightly pinch his cheek as punishment for his cockiness. ‘I hate you.’ You’d say as you push your fingertips through his stubbly beard, enjoying the way it deliciously tickles your skin, almost as though they were little prickly kisses.

‘No you don’t sweetheart, try as you might but you and me both know that for definite that you love me.’ John would state in a matter of fact tone. Once again you hated how right he was, but kept your lips sealed shut as not to give him any more ammunition to tease and contradict you at any given opportunity than you’ve already have.

The air between you is playful and light in comparison to how cynical, sharp witted and sarcastic he usually is on a daily basis. It was a welcomed change as you allowed the blonde to pretend to bite your hand, only allowing for his teeth to barely graze your skin before pulling away with a sly smirk as you scratch at his stubble.

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zephyrchama · 1 month

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Belphegor followed you down the hall as you dragged your suitcase. It wasn’t very big, but it was still heavy and annoying to lug over the thick decorative carpets. Every time one came to an end, the luggage thudded loudly back onto the hardwood floor.

“You sure you have everything? You packed the pillow I gave you?” Belphegor sluggishly matched his pace to yours. Having long legs must be nice.

“Of course, I triple checked.” ”Good. That’s my fifth favorite pillow, so you have to come back and return it, ok?”

You nodded as the suitcase went over another bump. This was your third time going over this exact conversation.

It wasn’t just the youngest, all of the brothers were antsy about your little trip. It was written all over their faces as you arrived at the foyer where they were waiting. Satan and Asmodeus solemnly stood up from the steps they were sitting on. Mammon and Leviathan had a hard time looking at you, their eyes darted all over the walls and ceiling. Beelzebub offered to move your suitcase by the door.

Just one weekend away. That was it. Solomon volunteered to take you back to the human world for a bit. You couldn't let a rare trip home pass by, as who knew when the next opportunity would arise. You could eat some normal food for once and stock up on your favorite human things. Though, your housemates reacted like you were leaving for a year.

“Did you pack everything?” Lucifer asked.

“Of course, I triple checked.” Deja-vu.

“Even the lotion I gave you?” Asmodeus looked so worried. He loosely took hold of your forearm with a tear in his eye. “Don’t forget, the sun is awful this time of year. I’ll never forgive you if you come back looking like a lobster.”

“Asmo, I won’t.” You grinned at his silly concern and leaned in for a hug. Asmodeus did not disappoint.

Everyone else took a step forward, hoping for a hug of their own, as Asmodeus breathed into your ear, “I’ll be waiting.”

“You have my number. If anything goes wrong, call me.” Lucifer sounded so reliable as he placed a hand on your shoulder.

There were half a dozen chimes of “mine, too!” and “same here!”

You’d been away for longer trips. How in the world did these guys survive for so many millennia before you met them? You turned to look at Lucifer, wanting to counter that Devildom phones didn’t even work in the human world, but he probably knew that already.

"Don't talk to strangers," he reminded, "and don't go out alone at night. Some humans are worse than demons." He wrapped his arms around you and wished “safe travels.”

Mammon stepped up next. He forced himself to stare at you, haughtily playing off the sadness he was really feeling. His bottom lip jutted out a little more than usual. “Well! You’ll bring me back a good souvenir, right?”

“Oh? I don’t know, I might not have time…” It was playful banter, yet your words shocked him. Mammon’s eyes widened. He began stammering and gripped your fingers. You quickly performed damage control, “Joking! I’m joking, Mammon. Of course I’ll get you a souvenir.”

The younger siblings piped up, “us too!”

“I’m getting everyone souvenirs, don’t worry!” You already had a few gift ideas in mind.

Mammon put his forehead on your shoulder and a hand on your back that he rubbed. “But mine’ll be the best. I trust ya.”

“Don’t let Solomon give you any food he cooks,” Beelzebub warned. “Actually, don’t let Solomon give you any food. Ever.” He tried to give you a lumpy-looking cloth bag, no doubt filled with homemade treats to take with you. It smelled scrumptious. Only issue was, the bag was half your size.

“Beel, there’s food in the human world. I can’t take all this, why don’t you enjoy it with your brothers?”

Beelzebub frowned, setting aside his present. It tilted under the weight of its own contents. You felt a slight pang of guilt, but how could you carry it all? That much food could last you a week.

He picked you up for his hug, your toes dangling several inches off the floor until he gently set you back down. Belphegor caught you as you regained your footing.

His hug was simple and cozy. He tucked a strand of your hair behind an ear. “Don’t forget about my pillow.”

You suspected that if you ever actually tried to run away, these seven would go to the ends of the three realms to find you.

Satan nudged your luggage, observing the way it slided forward an inch. It was heavy to you, but clearly not them. “That’s really all you’re bringing? Do you have enough clothes?”

“Yes! You helped me pack!” The repetition was really starting to grate on you. Things were never this crazy when one of them had to leave the house for a few days. They wouldn't even care unless somebody went mysteriously unseen for over a week. “You all know I’ve got everything under control. I’ll be back in two days.”

“Hey, how come Satan got to help you pack?” Mammon complained.

“We did too,” Belphegor said, his twin in agreement.

“It was a group effort,” according to Asmodeus.

Mammon crossed his arms. "No way! You let these guys see your underwear?"

Satan ignored them. “Do you want another book for the road?”

“I’ll be fine.” You gave Satan his hug. After letting go, his fingers hovered by your side. “We’re teleporting there anyway. I don’t think there’ll be time to read anything.”

One suspiciously quiet demon in the back stared at the floor. “Two days,” he sighed. Leviathan did a poor job of hiding how upset he was.

“Levi, aren’t you going to say goodbye?”

“Yes!?” His head jerked up, met your gaze, and looked down again.

“I can’t leave until I get a full set of hugs from everyone,” you admitted. “I’m missing a very valuable part of the collection.”

Asmodeus and Mammon readily offered themselves for a second go. Leviathan’s cheeks flushed with envy and he grabbed you a little roughly, squishing his face into your shoulder. “You’ll take lots of pictures? A-and you won’t forget about us?”

You scoffed, “how could I forget about you? We’re bound together by a pact, aren’t we?” As for photos… you didn't know what would be interesting, but it couldn't hurt to take a bunch anyway.

Lucifer cleared his throat, signaling to Leviathan it was time to let go. "I miss you already," he muttered.

The seven of them followed you out of the house and down to the House of Lamentation’s front gate. It was like having a school of fish circling you. You could call it a miracle they weren't following you onto the main road, but if they went that far you knew they'd unreasonably demand Solomon take them along too.

“It’s just one weekend!” you reiterated. “Take care, you guys.”

They peered at you through the fence bars, waving when you glanced over. It was a sad sight, and possible attempt to make you come rushing back. If it was this bad already, you didn't want to think about how they'd act if you were going away for one week.

#maybe sequel when I come back? this was supposed to be more funny but it turned into more fluffy. hm!#i think my original thought was “mc going to a sleepover at purgatory hall and lucifer being all 'overprotective parent' about it”#idk about this but i wanted to get it out of my system so i'd stop thinking about it #obey me! swd #obey me swd #obey me!#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me x mc #obey me x reader #obey me scenarios #omswd #obey me x you #obey me brothers #obey me fanfic #obey me drabble #obey me fluff

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multific · 4 months

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In Sickness and In Health

Paul Atreides x Reader

Summary: Paul fears leaving you while you are sick.

Paul hated to leave you alone, especially since you haven't been feeling so well lately.

Paul knew he needed to go with his father, but he didn't want to.

"I will take care of her." his mother tried her best to reassure him, but Paul was worried.

The love of his life, his beautiful wife has been forced to bedrest for the last few days.

The doctors examined you and determined that you had a simple illness.

A simple one, yet you suffered greatly because of it.

You had a high fever, you could barely eat and sleep was a difficult task.

You were separated from Paul the second day of your illness, now, he was only allowed to visit you.

He was kind enough to bring you books or read you some of his own.

"You must go, Paul, your father expects you to."

"I do not care. I don't wish to leave you alone."

"I understand, but I will be fine, I do feel better already, so please, don't worry too much."

"My mother said she will visit you often," he said as his grip tightened around the book he was reading to you. "I still don't want to leave you." he promised to be by your side, in sickness and in health.

"I will be fine." you said with a smile. Your smile made him believe that it might be all fine after all.

Yet, his worry never left him.

The next day, he left with his father.

Lady Jessica kept her promise and visited as often as she could.

You even started conversations with her. And she did enjoy talking about Paul when he was young.

Then, she even mentioned her marriage, and how she wished you and Paul wouldn't have to face the same or similar difficulties.

The week soon passed, and you were much better as you awaited Paul's return.

And soon enough, you were told that he was landing.

You rushed over, by the time you got there Paul was already off the ship, making his way to you.

"Paul!" you smiled as you slowly jogged over to him, he fully started running.

You opened your arms and wrapped them around him as he lifted you off the ground. You giggled into his ear.

"I'm so happy to see you." he said. "You look so much better."

"Your mother gave me a special tea, it truly helped," you said as he finally put you down on the ground and kissed you.

"I missed you so much." he said and you laughed a little.

"I missed you, Paul."

Paul never felt so relieved in his entire life. He was worried about coming back, so when he saw you, full of life and smiles, running over to him, the weight from his shoulders just disappeared.

All his worries left his body in a matter of seconds.

He held onto you tight and strong, afraid to let you leave his sight as he watched your face, full of life, your eyes, filled with love as you looked at him.

Not even in his best dreams did he ever imagine coming back home and finding you like this.

He was forever grateful for his mother for healing you.

He made a vow to never leave your side ever again, and it is a promise Paul intends to keep for the rest of his life.

Taglist: @castellandiangelo @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou @mandoloriancookie @brascaris @il0vebeingdelulu @deliciousfestsalad @groovyqueer

~Masterlist~

��AO3ˇ

/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE OR REUPLOAD ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

#paul atreides x reader #paul atreides x you #paul atreides x fem reader #dune fanfic #dune x reader #x reader #fanfiction #x female reader #paul atreides #paul atreides x female reader #paul atreides imagine #paul atreides imagines #dune x you #dune imagine #dune paul atreides x reader #dune movie #dune imagines #paul atreides x wife reader

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tacticalprincess · 5 days

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ok ok but imagine being simon’s gf and könig just being so infatuated with u :( he likes you so so much, believes you deserve better than simon and just pines after you ^_^

very im on fire of him

könig’s never been one to be discreet about his feelings, especially toward you. he doesn’t owe simon anything, much less loyalty. his crush has become an inside joke amongst the crew, has gotten dirty looks thrown at him by simon too many times to count for being just slightly too touchy to be friendly, too intense in his yearning. tuning in intently whenever you talk, doing small favors for you whenever he gets the chance, asks after you when you’re gone. too close for comfort, oughta get himself in trouble, simon says.

its hard to ignore a stare that burns a hole in the side of your head, weighted like a caress on all the exposed parts of your body. könig gets some sort of satisfaction out of watching you squirm under his intense gaze, eyes trained on you most of the time he’s around, because at least he makes you feel something. he wishes to sliver underneath your skin and infiltrate your thoughts just as you’ve done to him, sending his emotions into haywire just by way of existing. smiling at him so brightly, extending a fraction of the warmth and kindness that comes naturally to you, craves it when he’s alone at night. your boyfriend can’t blame him.

simon’s weird, quiet coworker, helplessly infatuated with you, his too cute, too sweet, too soft girlfriend. could only dream of experiencing the parts of you that are exclusively for simon — wonders how someone like you even ended up with a man like him. looking far too out of place under his tattooed arm, bottom lip tucked between pearly teeth bashfully while he chats to the group of guys in typical boyish manner. the occasional ducks of his head to kiss your forehead when he remembers you’re there is not enough attention showed to such a pretty, doting thing like you, in könig’s humble opinion. it’s not even that he believes he’s better than him, but a selfish part of him would rather you end up in his calloused hands than anyone elses. his mind strays the longer he observes you, imagines all the ways he’d treat you better, take care of you like you deserve. would’ve probably already proposed to you by now given the chance. you might seem happy enough, but that doesn’t stop him from searching for cracks in the polished porcelain. always waiting for a spot to slip in.

he finally gets you alone one night, finds you where you wandered off into price’s basement to fetch more beer. coming behind you to grab the case from your delicate hands like lifting a feather off the ground.

“boyfriend not here to do this for you?”

after you regain your composure from the startle, you scoff, peering up at könig through your lashes. “just thought i’d do something nice for him.”

“sweet. does he always allow you to do a man’s job?” sarcasm bites at his words.

“allow me—?”

“do you think he even noticed your absence, maus?” he presses a bit harder, his face holding the same indifference it always does under his mask, tone flat around his accent. “as i did?”

his eyes search yours for a second, looking for any sign of reciprocation for his feelings, and somehow you can tell he knows you don’t know how to respond. as a show of mercy, he steps to the side to let you squeeze past his frame and up the stairs leading back inside the house, heavy footsteps following slowly behind. he watches as you so easily slip back into simon’s side, how his arm finds its home around your shoulders without effort. concern knits your boyfriend’s eyebrows together as he leans down to peck your lips, never breaking eye contact with könig over your shoulder, a petty display of ownership. he watches.

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un-lawliet · 11 months

Text

“He Knows”

— in which you’re avoiding Gojo and he wants you to tell him why.

(or i’m coping with rejection rn pls god help me)

“You’re avoiding me.”

“Huh?!” You jump back, almost dropping your pen as you turn to see frowning Gojo Satoru staring down at you expectingly, the usually relaxed demeanour he wore crumbling in the slight dip in his brow.

It wasn’t a question, Gojo stated it as fact, and if you looked hard enough, the downwards tilt of his lips could tell you about his complete (and utter) disapproval in his conclusion.

“I have no idea what you mean.”

You were running, sprinting even away from your problems.

Avoid, avoid avoid.

You refused to let it come to this, cornered in a library with Gojo Satoru, a man you definitely were not avoiding, nope not at all.

“You.” Gojo leans down, capturing your eyes in his, “Are avoiding me.”

And you’re leaning back, in your seat, away from him. Attempting to create any distance between the pair of you, unable to stand the giddy rush of joy that the proximity generated.

A moment passed.

And then another.

And deep down you pleaded, with conviction similar to that of a desperate man crying out for God, that the floor would fall in, taking you with it and allowing you some leeway to escape.

Gojo cocks his head, blue eyes scanning your panicked face before he sighs and stands back up again, resuming his position of elevation before you.

“Why?” His voice lacked the sentiment of interrogation, he couldn’t find in himself to dwindle on anger, he missed you and he selfishly wanted you to know it, to feel guilt in your mistreatment.

“Gojo.” You started, moving your eyes away from his face to glare at the book your reading instead.

Were you sweating? You felt like you were. Oh God.

Jujutsu sorcerers were not supposed to fall for another, it was an unspoken rule shared between sorcerers.

An unspoken rule that constantly plagued your thoughts when you were near Gojo. And so, you decided confidently to yourself that you could easily get over this silly personal flaw. Surely it would be easy.

But Gojo isn’t an easy man, and falling out of love with him followed that damn trend.

At every turn of your head, your gaze found his, longing for him to catch your eyes and reassure you with his presence, boisterous, like how he handles everything. And at night, when you tossed and turned, the cruel Summer heat forcing you to wither in your bed, you wondered if he could ever dream of you like how you longed for him.

It was pathetic really.

And so yes maybe you were avoiding him.

But you were doing it with good intentions!

You weren’t about to burden him with your childish wish for his unreturned feelings. Not in this world, under these circumstances, not when he was already holding the weight of being the strongest.

“Is there something bothering ya?” Gojo paused, “Cause y’know you only have t’ ask, and I could take care of it.”

And you wanted to cry.

Because Gojo Satoru is loud, and unabashedly himself, but he cares in silence, through actions hidden behind a loud laugh and a cocky grin.

“No, no it’s nothing really.” You had to do something, to say anything.

“Nothing? I haven’t seen you in days Y/N.”

“I’ve just been busy…” You mumble, fidgeting awkwardly in your chair.

“Oh yea? With what? Reading?” Gojo scoffed, his shoulders dropping in poorly hidden exasperation.

Your cheeks burned as you nodded, unable to form words, “And missions too I guess.”

“I asked Yaga, you haven’t been on a mission since September.”

Fuck.

“Preparations for missions then.” You cringed at yourself, lowering your head in the shame of being caught in your own shitty lie.

“Come on Y/N cut the bullshit.” Gojo all but whines, “I know somethings off, I know you.” You look at him then, his shoulder slumped, and face pouting, and you felt horrible.

“It’s really nothing Gojo I swear.”

“See there!” Gojo jumped, his eyes wide with determination, a look you only ever see on him in the middle of a mission. “You called me Gojo, you never do that, it’s Satoru to you, just Satoru.”

“You’re upset because I’m not calling you by your first name?” You asked, unable to break eye contact with him.

“You use to call me Satoru.” He huffs, crossing his arms.

You had to get out of there, the fact that your confession was all but resting on your tongue scared you beyond words, and you moved to pick up your stuff.

Then you felt his hand touch yours and your froze.

“What’s going on inside that head of your Y/N.” He was so close, so, so close. You could feel the warmth of his chest that was almost pressed against your arm, “Please.”

And you crumbled, because your weak and you could never escape the way you felt when he was near you, how you could barley hold yourself back from leaning into his chest and breathing in his scent.

“Satoru.” You whispered, your confession hushed, your head down and eyes closed, “I think I like you.”

And silence.

Silence.

Silence

And you were running walking away, avoid, avoid, avoid, your feet moving fast, abandoning the books you had brought because oh my god you had just told Satoru Gojo that you liked him and that was stupid, you’re stupid, everything was stupid and-

You were pulled back into him, effortlessly turned around so that your face was in his chest, the sound of his chuckling encasing your shameful state.

“The fuck are you laughing for?” You protested, unsuccessfully trying to wriggle your way out of his embrace, his arms circling you close.

“You’re pretty when you’re embarrassed y’know?”

And you had to hold yourself back from punching him right then and there, because of course Satoru Gojo knew you liked him, of course he was teasing you.

Nothing can escape those damn eyes, and he’s smarter than he lets on.

“You’re such an asshole I hope you know that, as soon as I leave this room I am never speaking to-’

Your rambles were cut short when you felt a tiny kiss on your forehead, and you finally looked at him fully, only to see the softest expression on his face as he looked down at you.

“I think I like you too Y/N.” He winked, his hand tracing the indent of your spine as he pulled you back into a hug, rocking you gently.

And you hugged him back, finally allowing yourself the closure you had dreamed of for months.

End.

feel free to leave a request !!

masterlist here <3

( authors note: do we all wanna hear a mini rant about how the girl i fucking adore just got a boyfriend and my heart is in SHAMBLES- anyway i wrote this to cope pls enjoy,,, i love u thank u for reading have a great day <3 )

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru #jjk gojo #gojo satoru x reader #jjk leaks #hurt/comfort #soft gojo

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luvring · 7 months

Text

EARLY PROMISE

gn!reader | 1.3k words, you see the ring iwaizumi wants to propose with a little (very) early

there’s a box behind shirts that iwaizumi no longer wears in his closet.

maybe that’s why you’ve never seen it before. you never would have, were you not given permission to look for clothes to donate while he went on a run.

it’s small, velvet, and inside there’s a ring that, any other day, you would have lingered to watch for as long as possible at a jewelry store.

but you’re not at the mall, nor are you currently being proposed to. you’re at home, standing alone while your stomach churn, and fingers tremble as you stare at the box in your palm where, right now, it decisively should not be. “fuck.”

“babe?”

the sound of the door and his keys accompany hajime’s voice from the entryway. if you listen closely, above your heartbeat pounding in your ears, you can hear him kick off his shoes—them hitting the step that he’s tripped on a few times after long nights with friends and drinks.

he shouldn’t be home yet.

you will your voice to work. “yeah?”

“you looking through the closet already?”

“...yeah?” there’s a questioning lilt at the end as your eyes scan around, his engagement ring—your engagement ring?—still in your hands.

and you know the pattern of hajime’s walk. you know his usual pace, how the floorboards creak as he walks down the hall toward your bedroom. he’s steady—slippers sometimes dragging across the wood if he’s tired, quiet in the morning when he thinks you’re still asleep.

today his footsteps come closer, a little faster, a little heavier than usual.

you assume it’s from the same nerves as yours.

“i forgot, there’s, uh, some shirts i’m keeping that i don’t want—”

hajime opens the door and spots you easily, standing in the middle of the closet as if you were the worst criminal alive, caught stealing in broad daylight.

you to see.

“to throw away,” he finishes, shoulders dropping. his voice quiets to a whisper, “shit.”

silence circles the both of you.

the velvet feels warm in your palm—much heavier than it was a moment ago. you wish you had an analogue clock in your room instead of hajime’s digital. maybe its ticking could take off some of the weight you feel at the sight of him standing a few feet away. maybe you could stare down its hands, listen to its rhythm, let it guide your breathing instead of standing with bated breath, chest unmoving while hajime’s rises as he catches his own.

seconds pass and you flounder, mouth opening and closing while you stand across from each other, neither sure who should speak first.

you don’t think this is how proposals are supposed to go.

your eyes flicker to the still open drawer to your right.

and you walk over, crouch to put the box where it was, pat the old obscure band t-shirt at the top of the pile in front of it, close the drawer, and go back to stand where you were, hands clenched into fists on your sides.

hajime blinks.

“did you really just put it back?” he asks, a little breathy as if he wants to laugh.

you look to the wall beside him then back at his face, as if you could be confused about his question. “...put what back?”

and this time, hajime really does laugh. and then he shakes his head, the way he does when you ask a silly question. “hon—”

“no, no, i’m not—you—that was—” you shake your head and frown. you wish his laughter would comfort you the way it always does, but you think you need to let guilt stay, gnaw for a little while longer. “this isn’t how it’s supposed to go.”

he tilts his head and smiles, just a little. “you’re telling me.”

“hajime.” you purse your lips. “i’m sorry. i feel like i just ruined whatever you were planning.”

hajime huffs and walks toward you, arms reaching out to hold yours. his hands are cool from the morning air, and goosebumps cover your skin as his touch runs from your elbows to your hands, where his fingers find their place in between yours. he’s looking down at them as he speaks—the ones that had held the box, to be specific. “it’s okay, it’s not your fault i forgot. plus i decided to run back a block instead of just texting or calling.”

“you panicked.”

“obviously.”

letting go of one hand, you lightly push his chest. but his hand follows, this time holding you to his heart. you give him a look. “i would’ve done the same thing if i was as fast as you. and i don’t know, i could’ve checked somewhere else. or closed my eyes. or wiped my memory.”

“you would’ve checked eventually, and closing your eyes is not effective for what you’re doing.”

“mind wipe would’ve been okay?”

“how would i have known?”

“...the mind wipe-y gun in my hand.”

he snorts. “what? it keeps a little history of your memory wipes?”

“i don’t know, maybe they have those. do you have one?”

“we’re getting off topic,” hajime chides, though there’s no real anger behind his lopsided smile and tilt of his head.

you sigh. there’s no average way of dealing with the topic of exposed proposal plans, so the best you can offer is a small, closed mouth smile of your own. “...you really wanna marry me?”

he reaches to squish your cheeks. “no, that’s for the other person i’ve been dating since high school and live with while you’re asleep.” you roll your eyes and clasp your hand over his.

“of course i wanna marry you. i’ve wanted to marry you for years,” he says with ease, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“well,”—you fidget—“that’s good to know.” your reply is soft, and you will yourself to ignore the warmth that creeps up your neck and face. your eyes fall to where hajime’s thumb rubs the back of your hand, if only to avoid his gaze. “i...can i ask how you were thinking of proposing or is that weird? or maybe you shouldn’t tell me so you can still do it.”

he pauses.

you look at him. “hajime?”

he tenses at his name, sucking in his bottom lip before answering. “well, i was kind of leaving that part of the plan for later—”

“i didn’t even let you plan the proposal?”

“—but if you think about it,” he continues, already aware of how you’d react, “you just saved me a bunch of anxiety by implying you’d say yes.”

your mouth falls open, hands moving away from his. “i already knew i fucked up our engagement, but i really did fuck up our engagement.”

“you didn’t fuck up our engagement,” hajime breathes out your name as he moves to hold your shoulders.

your head falls forward, landing against his shoulder. “i fucked up our engagement so bad.”

your boyfriend, your sweet boyfriend who always seems to come out of situations calmer than you, snickers, and you hit his chest half-heartedly.

“why are you laughing, oh my god—”

“i’m not laughing—”

“shut the fuck up, you’re laughing—”

“i’m sorry—you just, you didn’t fuck anything up, okay?” his laughter quiets as his arms wrap around you. “i can still propose and keep it a surprise, and i’m pretty sure it’s better you found out while i wasn’t in the middle of the plan, yeah? we just…know your answer already which, seriously, is a relief, so stop beating yourself up for something that wasn’t your fault.”

silence wraps around the both of you again—softer this time. an extra comfort intertwined with hajime’s voice and arms holding you.

moving away to look at him, you let out a deep breath. “okay, but i still feel bad.”

“babe—”

“as if you wouldn’t feel bad,” you retort, which your boyfriend responds to with nothing but a look that says you’re right. “is there anything i can do to make up for it?’

he hums and taps your hips, thumbs fitting perfectly against you. “promise to say yes when i actually propose?”

and this time it’s your turn to laugh, though it’s more a puff of air followed by rolling eyes and a kiss to his cheek. “i can probably promise that.”

little nia luvring comeback Bc my brain Sounds Like a garbage disposal + nails on a chalkboard And only these fictional characters r keeping me going. Hope u all thought of me for a moment the past 2/3 months

@devilgirlcrybabiey @lordbugs @smiithys @xfangirl-trashx @passionateuchiha @scaramouchesfootstool @fifteenshadesofpinkk @chloee0x0 @kenmaslov3r @bakugosgrenade @sakusasdirtyragdoll @dai-tsukki-desu @momoewn @dazaisfavgf @simpforerenn @crystal-lilac @idontlikeyourjob @sparrowb3nscloset @awkwardaardvarkforever @rory-cakes @prblmtic @kuroaka @sunaslay @h0n3ysgh0st @lackey-laufeyson @bontensbabygirl @dira333 @spooky1magazine1bread @lilithlunas @anime-ships-gay @todorokiskitten @kellesvt @tooruchiiscribs @curiouslilbeast @fiona782 @cvhenia @mitskiologist @libbyistired @milkbreadforlife @itsukkie @sirimirihiro @mylahrins @aria-chikage @heyitstial

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi fluff #haikyuu x gn!reader

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ddejavvu · 6 months

Note

hiii!! can i suggest some hotch x bau!wife!reader where reader is pregnant and she doesnt know, but at work she goes on about how she doesnt know whats wrong with her lately and spencer suggests that she might be pregnant and then she find out that she is!!

I love your writing sm btw😚😚😚

i think i might finally have enough time to write whole blurbs again :'))

"No flamin' hot for you today, Mrs. Hotchner?" Derek eyes your bag of plain cheetos where they lay open on your desk, and you grimace at his phrasing.

"God, no," You groan, "Don't make me sick."

"You love those things," His brows furrow, and he leans on the edge of your desk with one hand, his thick fingers splayed out over the wood, "I'm pretty sure your tongue is permanently stained red by now."

"I like them when I'm not in the middle of some weird stomach bug," You admit, "I woke up sick. I don't know what did it, but it was probably something Jack brought home."

Derek pointedly removes his hand from your desk, but he's kind enough not to tell you that he thinks you're contagious.

"Feel better, mama." He offers with something that you're sure is supposed to be a sympathetic smile, but looks a little more like a wince. Emily isn't so easily scared off, though, and she continues munching on the carrot sticks she'd brought for a snack.

"You look tired," She comments, and you almost want to take offense, "You were up all night with your stomach thing?"

"No, just when my alarm went off," You hum, swallowing a bite of your sandwich and trying not to heave at the texture, "It was nice enough to let me sleep, but-" Your sentence is cut off with a well-timed yawn, "I feel like I've been awake for days."

"Probably just your period," Penelope hums softly, trying and failing to keep your menstrual cycle a secret, which isn't surprising considering her track record with secrets. Everyone is kind enough to ignore the information she revealed, but when you shake your head and grumble, 'I'm late.', Spencer snaps to attention.

"You've missed a menstrual cycle, you're feeling extreme fatigue, and you're experiencing morning sickness?" Spencer verifies, and it's only with his discerning brain that you feel a weight sink in your stomach - preferably not your unborn baby.

"Oh my god," You breathe, your hand coming subconsciously up to your stomach, "Oh my- oh my god! Aaron, Aaron!"

Aaron rushes out of his office with the combined urgency of boss and husband, his eyes locking on you sharp with concern.

The air between you is thick as the members of your team grin up at Hotch, leaving you the silence to cheer, "I'm pregnant!"

His eyes are no longer viciously worried, their sharp edge melting into something far softer. His lips part, barely enough to let air through, until they crack and curve upwards in a dazzling smile that the bullpen doesn't often get to see.

"You took a test?" He confirms, but when you shake your head, he dims slightly.

"Reid said I am," You offer, and his zeal is back. You're sure he wishes he could wrap you up in a truly breathtaking embrace, complete with kiss far too passionate for your work environment, but you'll save it until you're at home, away from prying eyes and phone cameras. Regardless, you can feel his exhilaration from where you stand, and you're already planning out a nursery in your mind.

"He's probably more trustworthy than the plastic stick," Derek claps Reid on the back, and the doctor looks like the wind was knocked out of him. They're both smiling, though, and you feel JJ's hand on your shoulder, squeezing happily.

"Congratulations," Rossi pats Aaron on the shoulder, much gentler than Reid had been subjected to, "But a word of advice, Hotch? Don't have any more. If I have to split my inheritance another way, it won't be worth killing me over."

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner scenario #aaron hotchner oneshot #aaron hotchner one-shot #aaron hotchner one shot #aaron hotchner headcanons #aaron hotchner headcanon #aaron hotchner hc #aaron hotchner hcs #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner dialogue #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x reader fanfiction

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risuola · 5 months

Text

INFINITY — F. READER x GOJO SATORU

When was the last time you slept? You couldn't tell, but Satoru was determined to get you to rest.

cw: slightly angsty if you squint, just idiots in love unable to communicate properly, death mentioned (the usual jjk content) — 1,3k words

a/n: i'm going through my wips, finishing them finally and posting, don't mind me ❥

“When was the last time you slept?”

Satoru’s soft voice entered your mind and brought it back to reality. You were exhausted, having no sleep for few days already. Your eyes felt heavy, your mind was foggy and as you tried to push through the fatigue, you struggled to concentrate on even the simplest tasks. Everything felt like it’s taking twice as much effort as usual and more and more often you were catching yourself at making silly mistakes that you wouldn’t normally do. It was probably the fact you were standing at the little kitchen unit in the hotel room you share with Gojo for the mission, and the cup you were trying to fill with water overflown already.

“Shit,” you cussed quietly, putting down the kettle and grabbing the roll of paper towels, knocking a bottle while you reached next to it. Of course it was open and another portion of liquid spilled all over the counter and the floor.

“Hey, whoa, I’ll deal with it,” the strongest was quick to take everything from your hands, smiling in amusement at the soft groan that escaped your mouth. “So? When did you sleep last time?”

“I don’t remember,” you grumbled, pinching the bridge of your nose. The job you had been assigned was taking everything from you and it wasn’t because it was hard. It really wasn’t much above the ordinary and your partner turns every task into a child’s play, but it was the unpredictability of the curses you were targeting that made you go without sleep for a week already. You had at most four hours of rest, broken into short naps when you just passed out and now, you were awake for 43 hours straight. It was taking a toll on your mind and body, the fatigue was like a weight on your shoulders, making your movements sluggish and your thoughts slow.

You sighed, rubbing your eyes aggressively, a desperate attempt to wipe away the foggy haze from your sight. It’s been some time since you don’t see clearly anymore, your brain was pulling tricks on you and though you couldn’t blame it for that, you also wished it to keep up for just a little longer

“Go to sleep,” Gojo told you, wiping away the water that you spilled all over the kitchen area. “I’ll deal with anything that might pop up,” he reassured, though his tone was everything but caring. He was teasing you, his playful nature and smugness fronting in his behavior as always. He wasn’t bothered by the mission, he was doing his job flawlessly and frankly, you were sent with him only to make sure people around are safe because Satoru has a habit of not caring too much about casualties.

“You know I can’t do that,” a groan from you only made the man chuckle. You were in the middle of war – it felt like it, at least – there was a plague of curses, most of them reaching first grade, day after day appearing in bigger quantities and it was straight up way too dangerous to let yourself to drift away. Last time you managed to close your eyes for a little longer than an hour, one of the demons broke into the hotel you were staying in and nearly killed you. It seemed like they were just waiting for the right moment to attack, when your guard is down and you’re vulnerable and you knew that once you fall asleep, you’re not going to wake up on time. Even if Gojo was volunteering to fight, you were convinced the moment he’d step away from you, you’d be dead. And that was the last position on your wishlist.

“I told you I’ll take care of the curses while you’re sleeping, don’t be so dense,” the strongest just shrugged, seemingly unbothered but the grin was ghosting over his lips, making you wish you could wipe it off his stupid handsome face. While you were suffering, Satoru was sleeping just fine, not caring about a thing because he didn’t need to care about being in danger when he always had a nice, protective layer of damn infinity around himself. The world could be burning and not a single spark would reach his sleeping form. Rest was a luxury he was able to afford during this mission and sadly, you couldn’t because once you’re not awake and ready to protect yourself, you’ll be swiped off the board.

“Why would you even bother, huh?” You snapped, not sparing him a look while you approached the window. The streets seemed oddly calm, now as dark as the sky above them, and you wished it would stay normal for the next hours so you would have one less thing to deal with during the night time.

Truth is, the very fact of sharing a job with Gojo is a curse in itself, one impossible to exorcise and it was taking every bit of professionalism that you had in you to just push through it. Your relation with the honored one is difficult. It’s complicated and straight up unpleasant, it seemed like you were stuck in an endless cycle of bickering. Every conversation seemed to turn into an argument, and every disagreement seemed to escalate into a full-blown fight. It was exhausting, emotionally and mentally, it was straining but no matter how many times you tried, you couldn’t manage to break the pattern and instead, you just kept going around in circles. The words you spoke to each other were getting increasingly cutting and the anger was growing with each passing day. Even when you did manage to reach a solution, it was always a matter of time before another conflict would arise and you’d be back to square one. It was as if you were trapped in a maze, with no clear path to a peaceful co-existence and that was enough reason for you to be convinced that Gojo would be the last person on earth worrying about your well-being.

“I don’t want you to die on me because of the lack of sleep, come one,” he shrugged, throwing away the wet paper towels and joining you near the window. “Rest, I’ll stay awake.”

“I’ll get myself a coffee,” you said, not convinced at all. Truth is, only few times you allowed yourself to pass out was when Satoru was awake, because you wouldn’t dare to close your eyes when he was sleeping himself, but you couldn’t trust him. And you’d feel horrible if you made him stay awake just so you can sleep.

“No, seriously, no coffee for you,” he grabbed you by the wrist and pulled towards the bed.

“Gojo, do you not understand—”

“Shhh,” he hushed, manhandling you onto the mattress, forcing your shoes off and gathering the covers to tuck you in as if you were a child.

“I hate you…” Was all you could mumble. It was a torture. The soft pillows underneath your head and warm comforter were so perfect, so inviting for you to just let yourself drift off. You wished to let the heavy eyelids down, to give your eyes the rest they need and allow your brain to reset and clear. You felt like your body was betraying you, the exhaustion was seeping into your bones, making it impossible to move.

“Yeah, yeah,” to your surprise, Gojo pushed his own boots off as well and in a moment he was in bed with you, sharing sheets and pulling you towards himself. “Now, here. You are now inside my infinity. You’re safe, sleep.”

Infinity. It felt safe, suddenly, but was it because of infinity or the man that now had his arms wrapped around you? You couldn’t tell and frankly, you couldn’t speak either, so you just hummed something in response as the sleep has taken you away.

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klemen-tine · 5 months

Text

For the Greater Good (Platonic! Yandere Batfam x Uncle!MaleReader)

MAJOR WARNING: There is physical harm in this, near the end, please proceed with caution. Non-consensual drugging at the end as well.

Fun fact I learned but felt like I knew, some pain medications can actually make you lose your memories.

Reader is Bruce Wayne's younger brother.

___________________________________________________________

Crying woke him up. Groaning and rubbing his eyes, he sat up with a lot of effort and threw his legs over the edge of the bed. Grabbing his cane, he threw on a robe to protect himself from the chilly air the manor tends to have, and he hobbled out of his room. His leg was still stiff and he cursed at how long it took him to get to the room, but once he did he limped inside and towards the crib.

He smiled down at the crying baby, dressed in the cutest starfish onesie. When crying blue eyes made eye contact with E/C eyes, the crying stopped and instead a smile bloomed on their chubby face. A chuckle escaped the exhausted man, reaching down carefully and picking the small thing up. He put his weight on his good leg and stood there, holding the little being in his arms.

Their cheeks have filled out, creating a plumpness that reminded him of the cream puffs he has tucked away in the freezer, and those sparkling blue eyes were something many people would be jealous about.

“You shouldn’t be up.” He could hear the cape swishing behind the other figure, and the all but silent footsteps that inched their way into the room. A smile bloomed on his own face, mimicking the baby, “Don’t come closer if you’re wearing that bat costume. You’ll give him nightmares.” A chuckle escaped from the other and when exhausted E/C eyes looked up, he was met with the amused blue eyes of his older brother.

Bruce ignored his younger brother’s words, walking closer to peer at his nephew in his brother’s arms. His mask was off, and he only wore the suit and cape. This way his nephew could at least recognize his favorite Uncle’s face. To which the baby did, smiling and laughing when Bruce came into their line of suit.

Y/N smiled, holding them closer and nuzzling his head with his cheek. Bruce watched his nephew flail his arms in that starfish onesie, making it all the more hilarious. His brother chuckled, gently bouncing the baby in his arms to try and soothe them.

“You stink.” Bruce chuckled, “How rude. I just came back from patrol.” Y/N rolled his eyes, “Everyone alright?”

“Yes, everyone is safe. It was an easy night.” Y/N’s shoulders relaxed and Bruce observed how the exhaustion creeped up on his brother. His shoulders sagging and the bags under his eyes looking heavier. His grip on Bruce’s nephew tightened only a little bit, pulling the baby closer.

If Bruce was better at art, it would be this moment he would wish to paint. The moon light streaming in through off-white curtains, over the sage green crib, and on the two bodies in front of him. His younger brother, wearing a black silk robe and his nephew in his starfish onesie being bathed in moonlight. The soft light reflecting off of H/C lock and S/C skin. It is the way that the moonlight casted soft shadows and seemed to only highlight his brother’s features. Blue eyes looked down to his nephew, who was fluttering those large blue eyes of his and trying to fight sleep.

It’d be more beautiful than any other renaissance painting.

His nephew looked so much like Y/N when he was a baby. A memory Bruce holds onto with care. Besides the eye color, which blue was a common trait in Waynes, his nephew could be nearly identical to Y/N as a baby. From the smiles, to the happy laughs, the waking up in the middle of the night just to be held.

It’s most likely what made this image all the more better.

Until Y/N’s face screwed and Bruce watched him shift his weight a bit. Worry taking over his features, he rested a large hand on his brother’s shoulder, “Y/N, you should go to sleep.” Y/N shook his head, “Not yet.”

“Y/N.”

“No, Bruce. Just… just a bit longer.” He wanted to look at what was left of the life he once had. His baby was a reminder of the love he had once felt for another. A love he didn’t know he was capable of feeling, until a few years ago. The very proof of said love, the only thing left was his baby. This cute, innocent, and lovely baby that held Y/N’s heart. Or at least what was left of it.

The Wayne brothers are intimately familiar with how quickly life can be taken away. Their parents’ lives taken by a bullet, and Y/N’s wife taken by a car. Anything could take this young life, and the very thought terrified Y/N. It had him jolting awake in the middle of the night and visiting the nursery whenever he could. His son was always near him, and he only just started letting himself leave the baby with his cousins, Uncle, and Grandfather alone.

His heart always beats anxiously whenever he couldn’t see his son, but Alfred and Bruce assured him that that response was normal. Bruce has been helping get over that hurdle, slowly drawing him further and further away from the room his baby would be in for a longer period of time.

Staring at the now sleeping bundle in his arms, all he wanted was to ingrain his son’s features into his memories. Just in case the grim reaper decided it needed another Wayne. If it does decide that, Y/N prays it’ll take him. He prays that it will leave Bruce and his nephews alone, that it would leave Alfred alone, and most importantly his son.

With help from his brother, he set his son down in the crib, watching the baby stir for only a bit before grabbing Bruce’s outstretched arm. His cane in Bruce’s other hand, and Y/N chuckled. Looping his arm in his brother’s as the older, broader, and irritatingly taller man walked back to his room next door.

“Do you want to take your medicine?” Y/N shook his head, “No. The pain isn’t bad, it was just a twinge.” Bruce nodded, sitting on the edge of bed and watching his brother settle under the thick comforters. He could see the anxiety forming in those eyes, and he knows if he doesn’t quell it now, Y/N will be up again to go see his son.

Taking off his gloves, he gently began to run his fingers through his brother’s hair, softly lulling the other to sleep. Bruce smiled, “It’s okay, Y/N. Everyone will be here in the morning.” A few more minutes later, Y/N was softly snoring, taking deep breaths and his body no longer moving besides the stead rising and falling of his chest.

Bruce shuffled quietly out the door, shutting it without a sound, and making his way back to his own room. No before checking in once more on his nephew. Bruce wasn’t as paranoid as Y/N was, but he did enjoy staring at the baby. Not with haunted looks like Y/N used to have, or the forever ogling gazes his own son’s had when looking at the youngest Wayne.

He gazed upon the baby just how he used to stare at Y/N when he was this small. Waking up in the middle of the night to stare in fascination that a human could be so tiny. When he was younger, Bruce used to climb into the crib with Y/N and sleep next to him. It would be quite the sight in the morning, when either Alfred or his parents found him snuggled next to Y/N.

Bruce is four years older than Y/N, and he took his older sibling role seriously. When they were younger, Bruce always had his hand in Y/N’s. Making sure that the other was never far from him. Which wasn’t hard even if they weren’t holding hands. Y/N has been attached to Bruce from the moment he could walk.

His protectiveness increased ten-fold after that fateful night. A night that robbed the both of them of their parents, and Y/N of his mobility. His hip had been shot due to Bruce pulling him close to him. If Bruce didn’t that bullet would have hit Y/N’s stomach, and Alfred had explained that a limp is a small price when it comes to a life.

Bruce had agreed.

Y/N had never held it over Bruce. He never blamed him, nor has he ever given him a dirty look for it.

The man wanted to ensure that his nephew will never have to go through what Y/N went through. He wanted this baby to grow up with a family already wrapped around those tiny, stubby fingers and he wanted Y/N to know that this family would bend over backwards for them. They would do everything in their powers for the two people that always seemed to be in the middle of everything.

He’s grateful that his nephew inherited Y/N’s looks. From the shape of this eyes down to his nose, everything looked like Y/N.

Nothing like that wretched woman.

His jaw clenched at the thought of her, and he quickly walked around the crib to pull the curtains closed. Cutting out the moonlight that illuminated the room and leaving them in almost complete darkness besides the hallway light from the open door.

He reached down, gently dragging his callused finger across the thin and fragile skin of his nephew’s cheek, who smiled in his sleep. Completely and devastatingly unaware of the mad house around him.

++++

“What are you doing?” Y/N stared down at Cass and Stephanie that were surrounding his son. The baby’s hair tied up with a small bow, and looked like a radish.

“Dress up,” Cass answered seriously, and Y/N nodded with a stoic face. Gone were the clothes he was dressed in early this morning and instead he was wearing a cute blue dress under a white top with puffed sleeves.

“Why a dress?” Stephani snickered and pulled out a photo from nowhere, and she stood to hand it up to him. He took the photo and he brought his other hand up to rip it.

“No!” Steph snatched it out his hands and Y/N stomped his cane, “Get rid of that! How did you even get that?!” It was a photo of him, as a baby, in girl clothes. Almost the same dress, same shirt, and same hairstyle. In the back was a cheekily grinning Bruce.

“Bruce.” He’s killing him.

“What?” Speak of the devil and he shall appear. Y/N whipped his glare towards his brother, “Why do you have that photo?!” Bruce blinked at him, took a look at the baby in the room, and then chuckled, “Oh, that photo.”

Y/N hates that his brother knew what photo he was talking about by just looking at his son.

“He’s cute.” Cass held up Y/N’s son, who continued to laugh and Steph whipped out her phone to take a photo. Y/N huffed, “I’m not mad you dressed him up. Bruce, why do you have that photo?!”

His older brother shrugged, “It’s a cute photo.” Y/N’s cheeks burned and Bruce had to stop himself from chuckling, taking advantage of the fact that Y/N needed a hand to hold onto the cane, and he squished his brother’s cheeks with his own hands.

“Bwuush.” Bruce watched those E/C eyes focus on him and fill with annoyance as well as with embarrassment. Those squished cheeks of his were red with a flush and Bruce knows that his baby brother’s nose would be scrunched if he wasn’t currently having his face squished.

The man released Y/N’s cheeks, smiling as he did so. His nephew started laughing and he turned his attention to Steph and Cass who were cooing and taking photos. At least some people were enjoying this.

Y/N sighed, “What other photos do you have of me as baby?” Bruce’s smile turned cryptic smile, walking over to pick up the laughing and smiling baby who squealed in the arms of his Uncle.

“Hey! We weren’t done!” Steph cried out, getting ready to try and snag the baby back, but Bruce cut her off, “It’s lunch time. Alfred is expecting us.”

“Steph, Cass, at least put him back in his regular clothes,” Y/N tried to defend some of his son’s honor, knowing that as an adult the photos will be haunting him. Stephanie grabbed Cass’s hand and ran out of the room, pretending not to hear Y/N calling their names. The man huffed, turning to Bruce who shrugged, “I’m sure everyone will be fine with it.” “I know they will be fine with it. It’s just my poor son is going to be haunted by this story and these pictures.” Bruce chuckled, moving his nephew to sit in one arm, while his other hand rested on Y/N’s back. He gently guided Y/N to the dining room, listening to his brother complain about how this whole family was just filled with people who do what they want when they want.

He was halfway through it when they heard running steps followed by a “Stop running!” Dick’s blue eyes locked on the three of him and his face looking feverish, “So they didn’t take him out of it!” Cheers were heard and Y/N swears that one day he’s going to club all of them. His oldest nephew walked over, his smile large as he took in his cute cousin who was babbling away and looking unbothered.

“Uncle, he really does look like you in that photo.”

“How do you know of that photo?!” Dick picked up his cousin from Bruce’s arms, and cooed at the chubby baby. Said baby squealed and gushed at the sight of Dick, raising his little hands and pawing at Dick’s cheeks and nose. It had Dick making a sqwauking sound and nuzzled his nose into those plump cheeks.

He motioned for the two other adults to follow him, “Alfred made lasgana, caesar salad, and some bread loafs.” Y/N can already picture the mess his son will make and that poor dress of his is going to ruined.

“Before he naps he’s going to need a bath,” He reminded Dick, who nodded, “Of course! Can’t have a dirty baby going to sleep dirty, now can we?” His hands held both sides of his cousin and he held him in the air as he wiggled him a bit, eliciting a cry of delight.

The walk to the dining room was filled with Dick asking his Uncle questions and Bruce walking besides the limping man. Both of their attention on him as he answered Dick truthfully.

“You guys are terrible,” Jason grumbled once he saw his cousin’s state, but it lacked any bite and he was holding back a smile. Stephanie cackled while Dick set the youngest Wayne in his high chair.

“Master Y/N, I can feed the Young Master while you eat.” Y/N smiled at Alfred, “Are you sure? I don’t mind feeding him, Alfred.” The Butler huffed, “Of course. It is not a hard job to do.” It was something everyone was grateful for. The youngest Wayne was not, by any means, a picky eater. He was a joy to feed and oftentimes Y/N’s nieces and nephews fought over who could feed him. Although, everyone could admit that Alfred is the best when it comes to making sure that their cousin’s food ends up more in his mouth than on the tray.

Smiling, Y/N and the rest of the Waynes dug into the italian-themed meal.

Damian watched his Uncle eat from his peripheral vision. He took into account how much food he was eating and how much just spread throughout his plate to look like he ate some. When he had first moved in after the accident, it was a common thing to witness. Their once gluttonous Uncle, because Y/N could and does eat a lot, was barely taking any bites of the meals.

The first month was hard on almost everybody. His Uncle always looked paranoid and he had his son sleeping in the same room as him. Damian understood that his Uncle was grieving and grief takes time. Even now, he could still see the signs of sadness in those E/C irises as he stared and took in everybody. Almost like it would be his last chance to do so.

It is that look that puts everyone on high alert around him. Monitoring and excessively checking on him just how he does to his son.

What Uncle Y/N doesn’t know won’t hurt him.

After an eventful lunch, it was Uncle Y/N who ended up taking his son to go put down for a nap, balancing the baby in one arm and using the cane in the other, he masterfully evaded everyones’ hand to help and limped through the manor.

Damian was the one to pull out his phone and watch the feed of his Uncle making it too his room with the baby still in his arms. Masterfully opening and keeping the door open until the both of them were in the room.

“He made it.”

“Good.” Call them cautious and they will agree. How could they not be? Y/N has had a tremendous impact on nearly all of their lives in some shape or form. His patience, kindness, and genuine happiness of just being alive was infectious and capable of attracting even the haughtiest of people.

He was too good for someone like her. Someone who was so impatient, deceitful, and not worthy of Y/N’s attention. Let alone hand in marriage.

When Y/N had first introduced her, everyone banked on it not lasting. It is why they did nothing to stop the continuation of the relationship. A simple fling. Only for two years later they would be married. It was only the revelation that she was pregnant that halted the plans for a bit.

Seeing Y/N as happy and excited as he was was enough to stave off the anger. Bruce’s grip became more possessive, Dick’s hugs became tighter, Jason’s bookstore trip became more frequent, Tim’s help in learning how to run Wayne Enterprise more demanding, Stephanie’s and Cass need to go shopping became longer, Duke’s need to understand his metahuman abilities became more intense, and Damian’s desire for his blood-Uncle’s attention all the more prominent.

Everyone all of a sudden needed something from Y/N more than before.

Then when the baby was born, all of the Wayne’s were present, including those who didn’t fall under Bruce Wayne’s legal care. All of them waiting for Y/N and his son.

Tim can recall his first time holding the baby, and how small he was. He had been terrified that he was going to break them, but Y/N’s careful guidance and soft instructions, that fear turned into admiration. To think, something this small could be this breathtaking.

His blue, exhausted and surrounded by bags from the lack of sleep, looked up and sure enough, Y/N was staring at him and Tim’s new cousin with so much love. Those delicate hands, hands that Bruce dirtied his for so they would stay clean, held his forearms in a gentle grip as he helped Tim find the right bounce to ensure that the newborn stayed asleep.

Tim quickly obtained that hospital video and saved it on the Batcomputer for everyone to remember the first time they held their cousin.

There had been a huge argument after that. How long should they wait for their plan to be put into action?

A lot of them wanted it to happen while their cousin was still a baby, unable to remember that woman’s face because she doesn’t matter. Only they did. Only Y/N did. Their cousin only needed to remember his father, Uncle, Grandfather, and cousins.

That was it.

But how young should they do it? Surely before any core memories were made right? Because then Y/N would only be hurt more. However, if they did it to young the stress might be too much for Y/N.

The first month after the accident was horrid. Y/N rarely got any sleep, and when he gory nightmares haunted him. The car was not supposed to crash in front of him, but by the time anyone made that realization it was already too late. The black car was completely crushed, and up in flames while Y/N could only hold their son and watch. Bruce was next to him, and he had caught his brother before his knees could hit the concrete.

It was a horrible day for multiple parties, and the aftermath was just as bad. Y/N couldn;t even handle the funeral proceedings, to which Bruce and shockingly (and funny enough) Jason handled. The second oldest nephew responding to every whim and whimsey his Uncle had, doing everything in his power to make the pain lessen.

Anything in the powers. Sometimes that meant anti-depressants and bumping up Y/N’s pain relievers.

A loopy Y/N was a calm Y/N, and a calm Y/N meant a well-rested Y/N. Sometimes he would rarely leave the bed, trusting on someone to take care of his son. To which they all happily jumped on the chance to do. He’s been weening off of the pain medication, choosing to once again deal with small pain in his hip, but he stayed on the anti-depressants.

That is the one pill everyone made sure he took. He needed them. Just how he needs this family. All he needs is this family.

++++

“What did you do, Bruce?” Bruce had to stop himself from cursing at his luck and at the boys for also not nooticing. All five of them in this room and none of them heard Y/N enter? Of course he enters when a comment was made about make someone disappear just like Y/N’s wife. They wouldn’t have a hand in it, because they don’t kill, but is it a murder if one of them lets it slip what type of car she drove to the man she screwed over the most?

It’s not their fault that her ex worked at the mechanic shop they frequented. It isn’t their fault that Tim accidentally said somethin about the car being his Aunt’s, because how was he supposed to knoow that the mechanic he was talking to was her crazy-ex? It’s not his fault. It’s not any of their fault, because she didn’t say anything about this.

She lied, repeatedly over and over again to Y/N’s and everyone’s faces. Only, she lied to a house full of detectives, a former soldier Butler, and a man whose happiness was at the forefront of everyone’s reasoning.

“Y/N-”

“What did you do?!” Terrified E/C eyes stared at Bruce’s rigid form. The older man did not intend for his younger brother to hear those words, and he didn’t like that all the blame was being pinned on him. It was a group effort.

One they all happily took part in.

Dick raised his hands, as if he could ease the tension, “Uncle, c’mon there might be a misunderstanding.” Vibrant E/C eyes, swirling with pain and rage, flickered to him and effectively shut him up for a bit. Jason, for once, chose to remain silent at the sight of conflict while Tim thought the paintings in the library looked interesting. Damian, like his father and oldest brother, was looking at him.

Y/N could feel his heart beating faster and his head hurting. He didn’t want to believe it. How could he? His brother, the nephews he loves, and the nieces he adores, all conspired to kill his wife?

Who… No, why? The question was written across his face and Bruce took it upon himself to clear the air. He motioned for the others to get out, which they did with no complaint. Dick sending him a guilty look, Jason not meeting his eyes, Tim and Damian sending an apologetic look before disappearing.

The heavy doors of the office shut behind them and Y/N clenched his jaw. Bruce and him maintained eye contact, staring each other down.

“It was a choice made by the Family.”

“The hell is this? A mob?” Bruce stared into Y/N’s enraged eyes, and he sighed, “Y/N, I know this hurts but it is for the best.”

“The best? The best for who?! Not for me! Not for my son! Not for your nephew!”

“You don’t know that!”

“And you do?! What are you clairvoyant now?!”

“She wasn’t good enough for you, Y/N.”

“Who are you to decide that?” Y/N hissed out, glaring at him with all the rage and resentment in his body. The past three years of the family getting together, photos, smiles, all of it now burning in flames and he was choking on the smoke and ashes.

How long had they been planning this?

“Y/N-”

“Don’t ‘Y/N’ me! Bruce, what the hell?!” It terrified him. His brother, the one he trusts most, and he just threw all of that back into his face.

If Bruce could do that to someone Y/N loves, what's stopping Bruce from hurting him? Y/N’s eyes widened. What’s stopping Bruce from hurting his son?

The boys walked out.

His head whipped to the door, and was about to start making his way out to the nursery, but Bruce had grabbed his arm, kicking the cane from his grip and making Y/N rely on Bruce’s weight to keep standing.

“Bruce, I swear to God, don’t you dare-”

“My nephew will not be touched in any malicious way, if that is what you are so worried about.” Y/N snarled at him, trying to get out of his iron grip.

“I don’t believe you.” Bruce nodded, “You don’t have to. Can’t you trust that your nephews won’t hurt him?”

“No. How can I trust the murderers of my wife?” Bruce’s expression changed, and the hold on his arm tightened. Y/N’s teeth clenched, “How could you do that? I trusted you! I fucking trusted you and you go and…” The weight of the situation fell on his shoulders and Y/N would have crumbled if it weren’t for Bruce holding him up. Tears leaked from his eyes like they were faucets and his chest started aching.

Bruce kissed the side of his head, and where he kissed felt like it burned. Like the heat of the fire on the day that car crashed with his wife in it.

“I know. I know it hurts but it’ll get better Y/N.”

“Don’t talk to me about something getting better when you’re the cause of it.” Bruce lowered them to the floor, making sure that Y/N was still out of reach of his cane. Y/N wanted to throw a punch, an elbow, or something to vent all the anger and pain he has in his body. However, the grip Bruce has around his arms keeps them pinned to his sides and it’s not like Y/N had the strongest legs. If they were to get into it, it would be literal boulder versus a twig.

Bruce has always been the bigger one between then, even before Batman. Bruce had inherited Thomas Wayne’s imposing figure, while Y/N had Martha’s thinner one. His brother had been his rock, just how he had been Bruce’s now he wonders if Bruce was the heavy ball at the end of the chain. His nieces and nephews the chains, his son his collar, and the manor the cage.

Y/N felt as if the reality around him was crumbling and he couldn’t even pick the pieces up. He choked down a sob, “How long have you been planning this?”

“The accident or having you here?”

“All of it.” Bruce rested his forehead on Y/N’s shoulder, “You were supposed to stay here in the manor. The very thought of someone being more important than me, than Dick, Jason, Tim, Damian, Alfred, all of them, it is so infuriating and terrifying.

“Because I was scared that one day you would leave me, alone in this manor with only the walls to talk to and the mirrors for company.” Y/N glared at him through his tears, “You’re lack of faith in me is astounding.” He would never have left Bruce, because they are all they had left of their family.

Not to mention, Bruce has the boys and girls for company. He wouldn’t have been alone. There’s Alfred and Y/N would have visited.

“I know its not an excuse, but dammit Y/N, it’s so terrifying.” Y/N tried to still his beatin heart, pumping his blood throuoghout his body and making him want to run. He wants to leave. He really, really, wants to leave. Y/N wants to pick his baby up and run.

“Do you know why I am telling you this?” Bruce’s grip loosened and Y/N waited until those arms removed themselves from around him and he lunged for his cane. Only for a large handd to wrap around the ankle of his bad leg and pulled. Dragging him away from the cane and causing Y/N to shout in pain.

He stared up at his older brother in fear, his leg still in Bruce’s iroon grip. Y/N wonders if this is what criminals see when looking at Batman.

“Because you’re not going to remember it.” His foot stomped on Y/N’s hip and there was a sickening crack and white flashed behind his eyelids. The scream he released sounded foreign to his own ears, and the tears now became ones of physical pain rather than emotional.

He started coughing from the amount of screaming and crying, and Bruce continued to look down at him. His eyes full of sorrow, but also acceptance. He was looking at Y/N similar to a parent getting ready to discipline their kid. Not wanting to but needing too.

Bruce released Y/N’s leg, eliciting another cry and he widened his eyes when he saw Bruce raise his foot again, “Wa-wait, Bruce–”

“It’s not believable if you only have a break in your hip.” There was another crunch and Y/N’s not even sure what broke but the scream he released was silent. The pain was excruciating and the questions searing into his brain. Who is he trying to make believe and believe what?

“You of course.” Bruce stared at his brother on the floor, and he knows Y/N’s screams and crying are going to haunt him but it is for the better. Y/N’s watery E/C eyes stared at him in fear and pain, tears rushing down his blotchy face and confusion across his face.

“Poor Y/N, you fell and broke your leg. So now you have to go back on your pain meds and now bedridden for a while.” Fear coursed through Y/N’s veins and although he knew it was futile he tried to crawl. His older brother watched, before walking behind his desk and rummaging through the drawers. Y/N wasn’t even close to the door when Bruce stood over him, and gently flipped him over.

Y/N screamed, trying to get away from his brother, but with one leg out of commission and his one arm now pinned to his side, it was a futile struggle.

“Get away! NO! I hate you! I absolutely fucking hate you.” Bruce held a pill in his hand, and in his mouth between his teeth was a water bottle. Y/N clammed up, biting his lips to keep them closed as Bruce came in closer with a pill. He wanted to knock it out of the other’s hand, but before he could even do that, Bruce’s knee rested on his broken hip and Y/N cried out in pain. His brother was quick in shoving the pill in his mouth, covering the orifice, and opening the bottle with the other arms that were pinning Y/N’s arm. He all but waterboarded Y/N with it, washing the pill down.

Afterwards, he held Y/N and slowly rocked back and forth in a mocking show of comfort. Y/N hit him, bit, and tried to shove him off. His cursing and shouting fell on deaf ears and the drug was beginning to take effect. His limbs became heavier and eyelids stayed closed longer.

“Shh Y/N, just sleep. It’ll be better in the morning.” Feeling one last bit of defiance, Y/N glared at his brother, “Tell me how you can kill my wife, but are unable to kill the Joker?” His eyes were closed by the end of the sentence, unable to see his brother’s reaction, but he heard the tight, “Good night, Y/N.”

++++

Crying woke him up. Groaning and rubbing his eyes, he tried too sit up but realized in confusion that his leg was casted and his head was incredibly foggy. A sound of discontent left him, but then there was a shuffling in the room and the crying stopped. In his blurry vision he saw Dick holding his son and Tim gazing at him softly.

“What…”

“You fell, Uncle. You broke your hip and shin and your cane unfortunately broke as well,” Tim informed as clinically as he could, holding his Uncle’s hand and staring into the hazy eyes.

“We had to give you a higher dosage of pain medication, and you’ll need to stay on them for a bit.” Y/N nodded in understanding, his attention returning to his gurgling son and smiling Dick, “It was terrifying Uncle, seeing you laying there like that. It’s a good thing Bruce and Timmy found you. Can’t imagine how bad it would have been if you were on your own.”

Y/N blinked, the situation dawning on him, “Yeah, that…that would be bad. Sorry Timmy, you had to see me in a traumatic state.” Tim shook his head, “No, I’m happy we found you when we did. I’m sorry that we didn’t get there sooner.” Y/N smiled, moving his arm to gently cup Tim’s cheek. It took all the effort in him to even make it that short distance, but Tim rested his own hand against the back of Y/N’s, nuzzling his cheek further into Y/N’s palm.

“Sleep Uncle, we’ll all be here when you wake up,” Dick encouraged, sitting next to Tim and bouncing his cousin. Y/N chuckled, “Okay. Please watch–”

“We will Uncle. Now, please rest. You and our cousin will be safe, I promise.” Y/N made a small hum before shutting his eyes once more, dreaming of when he and Bruce used to play in their mother’s garden.

________________________________________________________

Very Dark on this one. Was not the intention at all, but that's how it happened....

#batfam x reader #yandere batfam #yandere dc #platonic yandere #platonic batfam #Brother!Wayne #Brother Bruce Wayne #Male!Reader #Dc Male Reader #Batman Male Reader

1K notes · View notes

chantersboard · 14 days

Text

Lovely To Be Rained On With You

Summary: 3K. Reader and Joel rush to find shelter from the storm

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, post-outbreak, oral f!receiving, unprotected PIV, creampie

A/N: okay I have spent so much time on here reading other Joel fics and enjoying myself so I kinda wanted to give back. but first of all I need to get three things off my chest. one, it's been a long time since I've written anything. two, this is my first writing The Last of Us. three, and probably most important as I beg for kindness, it's my first time writing smut. this has been sitting in my docs for too long so Imma just press post and walk away. enjoy! AO3

The weather was changing rapidly. Not long ago it had only been partly cloudy, but now, for as far as the eye could see, the sky was one massive, threatening cloud. The leaves danced on their branches as the gusting wind flowed through them; their rustling a constant melody accompanied by the quickening beat of two pairs of boots.

Tightening the grip on your rifle, you look up at the darkening sky. The weapon could protect you from a lot, but not from this. It had been four days since you left camp and it was still another day’s walk until you returned.

There was no outrunning this storm.

A few feet ahead of you Joel Miller marches onward, his broad frame and long legs setting a rapid pace you struggle to keep up with. The pack on your back is overfilled and heavy with recently looted goods. It causes your steps to be slow, more cautious and measured.

You take a deep breath, “Joel…?” you begin. You’re both thinking it. Someone has to say it out loud. “It’s gonna pour in any minute.”

His graying curls dance along with the leaves in the wind. He steps over a fallen tree then turns and offers his hand to help you over. You graciously accept it, sliding your fingers over his calloused hand. The weight of the bag digs into your shoulders as you step over. Had it not been for the heavy sack you would have been closer to camp by now, but those supplies are the sole reason the two of you journeyed so far away.

“I know,” he says as you join him on the other side of the log.

“We’re too far from camp—”

“I know,” he repeats, his brows furrowing. He scouts the distance, bright eyes scanning left and right, through the trees and beyond. A bead of sweat slowly falls down his face, the unseasonable hot May weather demanding to be acknowledged.

“There was a cabin…” he trails off, lost in thought. You look ahead, only seeing trees. “D’you remember? Was it before or after all those alliums we saw?”

You think back and try to remember this area from a few days ago but a lot had happened since: Joel injured his shoulder wrestling with a jammed door; you found and promptly devoured a can of ravioli; there were two separate attacks with solitary infected; finding the motherlode of supplies in what looked like a doomsday prepper’s basement; oh, and then there was last night.

Still riding the high of finding all those medical supplies and ammunition (and a bottle of bourbon), the two of you spent last evening in high spirits. You shared stories and laughed and drank. Joel hummed a tune that had you swaying your hips and smiling towards the obsidian sky. For a moment things felt so easy and normal.

At some point that night, with only a sliver of the moon in the sky, you stumbled in the darkness and fell into Joel’s arms. You had looked up at him, your hand rested on his strong chest as you breathed in the scent of him. Your body tingled where his hands pressed into your waist. The stars twinkled above him as he smiled crookedly and whispered, “y’okay, sweetheart?” and you nearly confessed. Nearly told him how you truly felt about him. Nearly revealed you knew he watched you when he thought you couldn’t see.

Nearly kissed his gorgeous face.

But then he dropped his hands, the magic of the moment gone, and you swallowed your feelings. You fell asleep last night wishing things were different. Wishing Joel was yours.

A single raindrop plopping on your forehead brings you back to the present. “We saw the cabin first,” you recall. “And then the flowers.”

Joel nods, walking forward even faster than he had before. He too must have felt a raindrop.

The two of you continue onwards, the sky teasing you with singular drops of rain as you migrant the woodsy terrain. It doesn’t take long until you see them in the distance.

Alliums. The purple flowers, towering high on skinny stalks, sway in the wind. The bulbous plant, petals like bursting fireworks, are scattered across the field. The sight of them brings you relief. It shouldn’t be much longer until you find the cabin.

Just as you walk past the last bunch of flowers the sky begins to open up. The rain comes softly at first. Small drops that slide off your skin and moisten your clothing. Foolishly, you believe if it continues like this you’ll be fine. But as lightning shoots across the sky and thunder shakes your body, the drops grow heavier, their frequency increasing.

The rain continues to fall harder as you trek on. The sound of water blanketing the land drowns out everything else. Joel turns and looks behind at you, his normally bouncy hair weighted down and plastered to his face. Another clap of thunder rings as the rain soaks through you. It seeps all the layers of your clothing, through your jeans, through your socks, pooling in your boots.

Walking is becoming more difficult as your boots sink into the mud, your clothes are soaked through and heavy and your cumbersome backpack doesn’t help. You’re about to yell ahead, tell Joel it doesn’t even matter anymore, that you’re too tired, but then you see the cabin.

It’s a tiny little thing. The sheltered patio leads into one cozy room. To your right is a kitchenette, directly in front of you is a small living space, and further back, against the wall rests a bed. There’s a closed off area there as well, presumably a bathroom.

Joel crosses the cabin, his hand resting on the pistol holstered to his hip, and peers into the smaller room. His posture relaxes and he gives a quick nod. The cabin is safe.

You rest your rifle against the wall by the door and unceremoniously drop your bag. Relief spreads through your bones. You arch your back and stretch your arms upwards, pulling the muscles along your spine. You glance across the room and there it is again—Joel is watching you. His eyes travel your body and linger where your soaked top clings to your chest.

He’s lost in the sight of you. You raise your arms higher, his gaze warming your cheeks and your core, and you push your chest further out to taunt him. The wet fabric is unforgiving and you're sure he can see your hardened nipples even from across the room.

You decide to break the silence. “You think it will last long?”

Joel snaps to attention, his eyes finding yours as he runs his fingers through his hair. “Huh? What was that?”

“The storm,” you pause to lick your lips. “Do you think it’ll last long?”

Joel sets his backpack down at the head of the bed. “Not too sure,” he looks past you out the window at the turbulent weather, “regardless, we should stay here for the night.” He opens his bag and begins to rummage through it.

You nod as you walk over to the foot of bed. With your back facing him you sit on the edge. “In that case I’m gonna get out of these clothes.”

You wrap your fingers under the hem of your shirt and pull it over your head. You toss the clothing and it lands with a loud slap on the wooden floor. After kicking off your boots and socks you lift your hips off the bed enough to push your jeans to your thighs. You struggle to get the tight and stiff wet denim off your legs.

You lean back on your forearms and look behind at Joel. He’s suddenly very interested in his bag. You watch as he digs around, the muscles in his arms pressing against his tee. His face is glistening wet and it highlights the slope of his nose and the curve of his jaw. He’s just as handsome as always.

“Hey, Joel?” You bite your lip and wait for his attention.

His hands still as he looks down at you. “Yes, sweetheart?”

The endearment makes your heart swell. You swing your dangling legs. “Can you help me out of these? They’re giving me trouble.”

He looks at the jeans halfway down your thighs. You’ve changed in front of Joel before but after last night, after spending so much time alone with him, things have gotten intimate. You feel exposed half undressed in your mismatched undergarments, but it’s also exciting and your breath quickens under Joel’s glare.

“Yeah, I can help,” he nearly whispers. He drops his bag on the floor, the stuff within no longer important, and rounds the bed. You lift your legs when he gets close and await his touch.

He holds your ankles first. Gathering the material there, he attempts to pull, but the jeans barely move. So his hands climb up, over your calves, then behind your knees, and when they reach your thighs he pauses. He hooks onto the edge of the material, his thick fingers touching your bare skin, and pulls.

The jeans start to give way. As he tugs your body jostles, your breasts bouncing lightly in your worn bra, each jerk becoming more arousing. Once he’s peeled your pants off he discards them onto the floor along with your shirt.

“There ya go,” he says as he comes between your legs and leans in. “Will you be needin’ anything else?”

He looks at you, his eyes intense and questioning. He’s so close you can feel his body heat, even with his cool wet shirt brushing against your bare torso. A flash of lightning briefly brightens the room. You swallow hard and wait for the resounding thunder. You won’t repeat last night. You won’t let this moment pass.

“Kiss me,” you whisper.

And suddenly Joel’s lips are pressed against yours. He kisses you hungrily, mashing himself against you, finally feeding the longing you’ve both felt for some time. You part your mouth and allow his tongue entry as you melt into him. You explore each other, your hands running along his chest as you’re rendered breathless under his kissing. Your fingers tangle in his shirt. You pull at the fabric wanting to feel his skin against yours.

Joel breaks from the heated kiss and straightens his body. His eyes are dark and filled with lust as he yanks his shirt off. You watch him as you scoot back on the bed and fully lay down. He kicks off his boots and undoes his belt and jeans. His body is strong from years of manual labor. There’s a line of hair on his soft belly that trails under his boxers.

“What else do you need, sweetheart?”

You can’t tell if the roaring in your ears is the sound of the rain or of your quickly beating heart. Joel waits for your answer as he unclips the gun holster from his belt and rests it on the floor. His hardening cock springs free when he drops his pants and boxers.

He strokes himself slowly and you watch as his cock gets harder in his grasp. You rub your thighs together, desperately seeking relief for the growing ache between your legs. You unclasp your bra and cup your breasts. Joel softly grunts when you pinch your nipples between your fingers.

The sight of him bare and beautiful leaves you breathless. He looks so handsome with his hair slicked back and glossy from the rain. The sight of his cock, hard and ready for you, sets you on fire. He licks his lips and all you can think about is those lips on you. On your mouth, on your tits, on your cunt. You have never wanted someone so badly.

“You, Joel,” you finally say. “I need you.”

He smiles at your answer and makes his way onto the bed. He takes his time crawling up to you, planting kisses along the way. He pauses when he meets the apex of your legs.

His fingers curl around the band of your panties and he pulls them down and off. You open your legs, inviting him in, so desperate for his touch.

He looks up with hungry eyes. “I want to taste you,” he says as his fingers part your pussy lips, opening you even further for him.

Joel opens his mouth and presses his tongue against your cunt. He licks up, takes his time savoring you until he passes over your sensitive bundle of nerves. The sensation has you moaning and lifting your hips to meet his mouth.

“Oh, Joel,” you whine as he continues sucking and licking you, alternating between the flat of his tongue and the point of his tip. One of his large fingers finds the entrance to your hole and pushes inside.

“Fuck, you’re so wet for me already,” he mumbles into your folds. “One of my fingers isn’t enough, is it?”

Your hands run through his hair as he inserts another finger inside you, your walls clenching around him. He pumps his fingers in and out of you, curling them into the spot within you that has you moaning his name.

Your pleasure grows as Joel finds his rhythm, his mouth and hand working together to bring you closer and closer to orgasm.

“Please, Joel,” you’re begging, pleading with him. “Don’t stop! I’m so close, please don’t stop!”

So he doesn’t. His moans join your screams of pleasure until the pressure in your core finally snaps. Your back arches and your legs shake as your orgasm rips through you. Joel’s fingers continue to work through your high, prolonging your pleasure until your legs relax and your grip loosens from his hair.

“Fuck,” you exhale as Joel crawls up, his strong body caging around you. He leans into you, the touch of his skin on yours and the weight of him soothing your body. He nestles his face into the crook of your neck as one of his hands squeezes your breast, his fingers playfully twisting your nipple.

He’s planting kisses on you again, on your neck, along your jaw, then on your lips. You moan when you taste your own release on his tongue as he slips it between your lips. You spread your legs further underneath him, a fire burning in your core that only he can put out. His cock rests thick and hard between you.

“I still need you,” you whisper, lifting your hips to grind yourself against the length of him. You need all of him, every pound and every inch. You need his touch, his lips, his moans. You need him around you. You need him in you.

He grunts as you rub against him, your wet hole eager to be filled.

“I need you too,” he whispers back as he reaches in between your bodies. He grabs himself and aligns the thick head of his cock at your entrance.

You whimper as he slowly pushes himself inside you. Inch by inch your walls stretch to accommodate his shaft. Seeds of pleasure start to grow when he’s fully inserted into you.

Joel stills inside you and looks into your eyes. His face is twisted in bliss. “Goddamn, your pussy is squeezing me so tight,” he rasps. He sharply exhales when you flex your cunt around him.

You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him in for a kiss. He begins to pump his hips then, making soft shallow thrusts until he’s gotten used to the feeling of you. He moans into your mouth as he picks up the pace, nearly pulling himself out of you entirely before plummeting back into your depths.

His dick is intoxicating. Waves of pleasure wash over you each time he rams himself deep in you. He fills you completely, your wet hole stretching around the length of him.

Joel begins stroking faster, his hips snapping into you at a blinding pace. Your fingers dig into his back when he rocks into the spot that makes you arch your back and moan his name.

He smiles, satisfied with the pleasure his cock gives you. “Right there?” He asks as he continues to mercilessly drill into you, pounding your sweet spot over and over again.

“Yea—oh my god, Joel—yes!”

He’s already pushing you towards your next orgasm and he can sense it. He repositions your bodies, folding you nearly in half as he brings your knees up.

You scream out as the altered position lets him stroke deeper inside you. His cock hits your cervix, pain and pleasure meshing together, forcing you closer to the edge.

“You like that, sweetheart?” Joel asks as your moans increase in volume. “Look at your pretty pussy juices making a mess… so fucking wet.”

You look down where the two of you are connected. You watch as he disappears inside you and then reappears again, shiny with your slick. The image makes your head spin.

“I… oh fuck! I’m gonna… I’m gonna—”

“You’re gonna cum on my cock for me? Huh?” His strokes are becoming more erratic, his own orgasm approaching. “Gonna let me feel that pussy grip my dick while you cum?”

Joel’s filthy words combined with his dick destroying your cunt sends you over. You yell out as your orgasm knocks over you. Your pussy pulsates around Joel, pushing him over the edge. You milk his cock as he cums, his dick twitching inside you as his warm seed fills your hole.

The two of you lay there a while, Joel softening inside you as his body envelopes yours. When your body has relaxed and your breathing has slowed Joel softly presses his lips to yours. He rises and slowly pulls out. You feel your combined arousal spill out of you once he’s completely out of the warmth of your cunt. You immediately miss the fullness he gave you when he rolls over to lay beside you.

The storm continues on outside. Fat raindrops pellet the cabin and the wind rattles the windows. Staying in was a good call, the sky was already darkening with the approaching night.

You look over to Joel. His eyes are closed, his face is soft and relaxed. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him look so calm before.

“Y’okay, sweetheart,” you ask, mirroring Joel’s words from last night.

Joel chuckles as he intertwines his fingers in yours. “Yeah. I am now.”

#Joel Miller #Joel Miller x Reader #Joel Miller x You #The Last of Us #Joel Miller smut #joel miller fanfiction

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