#'well just take it at night then so you can sleep through it' i usually do but sometimes i fall asleep before i can

[aemondtargaryenonlyfans]

FORBIDDEN TEMPTATION.

Aemond Targaryen x niece!Reader

WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT—MDNI; canon typical incest/targcest (uncle married niece), menstrual sex, p in v, fingering, lactation kink

WORDS: 2.1 K

NOTES: Thank you to @lady-phasma and the rest of our little group for this period smut collaboration 😝 and extra thanks to @zaldritzosrose for the moodboard!! I love you guys sm 💕 It was so much fun working with this request. Cheers to the dragon friends🤍

✖️ 𝐚𝐝𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

A poking ache in your stomach is what pulls you out of your sleep, like a sharp, stinging tug that makes you curl into a bundle, clutching your belly. With your husband still sound asleep right next to you, his snores filling the room, you’re determined to not moan out in pain too loudly, though you’re close to failing. 

“By the Seven,” you whisper, a clear strain to your voice, and when you bring your hand down between your legs, the stickiness you're welcomed with makes you sigh. There’s hardly any light of the moon falling into the room, which makes it difficult for you to make out the source of the wetness that coats your fingers, yet the smell lets you know it’s familiar. Your moonblood. 

“Oh, this can not…” you trail off, moaning through gritted teeth as another jolt of pain runs through your belly. 

Next to you, your husband has been roused from sleep by your stirring and moaning, blinking against the darkness and blearily into the night as he tries to understand what is going on. Propping himself up on one elbow, his groggy voice is laced with worry as he speaks, “what is the matter?”

You shift to lie on your back again, leaning up against the headboard. “I… my moonblood has come,” you say. The realization that it’s just your monthly bleeding does bring you some sense of relief, meaning your husband has not yet managed to put another child in you, but it also concerns you. “It feels like someone is clawing at my belly from the inside out… and I can not remember for it to be so painful before the pregnancy.”

It’s an instinct he’s developed over the course of your pregnancy, something you still catch him doing every now and then, but Aemond‘s hand immediately goes to your belly, rubbing small, soothing circles to somewhat ease the pain. And for someone possessing the blood of the dragon, his body certainly emanates a lot of heat. You’re immediately drawn towards him, melting against his frame, warmth radiating off of his bare chest.

Aemond brings his lips to the crown of your head, wrapping his arms around you. “That was to be expected, was it not?” he asks.

“Yes, but it is quite severe.” You flinch again at the stinging pain, though it is not as sharp with his warm hand splayed over your stomach. “Could you fetch me the maester to ease the pain?”

Your husband’s mind, however, quickly comes up with a different solution. “Well, I have heard and read that there’s another way to ease that kind of pain, my love,” he says, a teasing lilt to his voice. “A more… pleasurable alternative that may not completely rid you of the pain, but certainly takes your mind off of it.”

His words and the innuendo don’t surprise you at all. Ever since he truly has learned what it meant to indulge in the pleasures of flesh with you, he’s turned into a starved beast, desperate to get his fill of you every night until your little Baelon was born, and determined to get you round with his seed as quickly as possible again. The few weeks of rest that had been prescribed by the maester were the most difficult for him, struggling to keep his hands off of you. It was the complete opposite to the way he was while you grew up together; your usually quiet and observing uncle turned into a beast, similar to the one he claimed when he turned ten. 

Aemond’s hand slowly drifts lower, and a small gasp escapes your lips, his fingers dancing lightly over the damp linen of your smallclothes. You look at him, your eyes half-lidded with a mix of pain and desire. “Do you really think… it would help?” you murmur softly, instinctively arching into his touch. The throbbing ache in your belly is temporarily replaced by a pleasant warmth spreading through your core. 

“Oh, I very much believe it will,” he whispers in your ear, his voice low and gravelly. 

A sly smile is on his lips as his thumb brushes over your pearl, making your breath hitch in your throat. Your head tips back into the pillows with a moan slipping past your lips. “Aemond…” you whisper, his name coming out in a mere breath, “please.” 

He is quick to bow his head forward, capturing your lips for a kiss. As he tugs on your smallclothes, you wrap your arms around his neck for support, using the leverage to shimmy out of the damp linen. 

You gasp against his lips as his nimble digits ease into your cunt, and Aemond presses his forehead against yours. Feeling you writhe beneath his touch, he lets out a low groan, a small shiver running down his spine at the wanton sight of his wife on the cusp of pleasure. “Relax, my love,” he rasps. “Let me take care of you.”

His fingers continue their ministrations, his touch gentle yet insistent, never slowing down, and your hips buck into his touch. There’s no denying your desire for him, your need for him. And while he focuses on easing your pain, your focus solely lies on him – or rather his cock. It’s always the same, for his fingers are never enough for you. 

Aemond has pushed his sleeping trousers down to the point he was able to free his cock, thick, hard, and the tip glistening with a few beds of his arousal, indicating just how badly he wants to take care of you. Feeling his knuckles brush your thigh as his fist slides up and down his length, you whimper in anticipation while a strained grunt leaves his lips. 

Without another word, Aemond positions himself between your legs, the motion fluid and practiced. His hands glide over the smooth skin of your thighs, pushing them further apart to accommodate him. 

There is some impatience evident in his movements as he drags the tip of his cock through your soaked folds, causing you to gasp each time it presses against your sensitive pearl. 

“Stop teasing me, Aemond,” you whine, your nerves on fire. 

His lips curve into a smug smirk at your desperate whine. “What’s the rush, my love?” 

Tilting his head forwards, he watches as he circles your entrance with his cock, repeatedly pushing just the tip inside�� only to pull out mere moments later. While it drives you insane with lust, it also makes you aware of how slick you are for him – knowing it’s not just your arousal he’s coated in now. 

That realization makes you feel shy, and you momentarily try to squeeze your thighs together to escape his hungry gaze – but to no avail. Tsking, Aemond is quick to pry your thighs apart again, raising a brow. “Do not shy away now,” he warns. “A little blood does not repel me.”

Pressing your lips into a thin line, you nod meekly at his words, and your husband takes that as his cue to continue. Where he usually sheathes him inside you in one, swift thrust, he’s slow and careful to enter you now, making sure you feel every vein and ridge of him on his way inside. You both moan in unison, never getting enough of each other. 

Despite you being quite tense from the sharp pain tugging at your belly, Aemond buries himself inside of you with ease, your moonsblood adding to your slickness. It feels different than usual – you feel different than usual, more sensitive – yet the pleasure it brings is heightened and coaxes you to melt around him. 

Your head tips back into the pillows, but Aemond is quick to bring a hand to the side of your neck, applying a bit of pressure to your chin with his thumb to force you to meet his gaze. There is a slight stutter in his hips as he sets up his slow pace, settling only once he’s found the perfect rhythm. With expert precision, he rolls his hips against yours. Your heels dig into his rear, encouraging him to go even deeper. 

The dull, continuous ache in your belly grows weaker with every thrust, replaced by a warmth that spreads all the way to your limbs, fueled by the squelching sounds of his cock repeatedly disappearing into your soaked cunt. 

Aemond has one hand on your neck and the other positioned on the mattress right next to your head, careful not to put all of his weight on your sensitive body. You take it upon yourself to tug on the low neckline of your nightgown, pulling it even lower to free your heavy breasts from their confines. 

Your body is still providing enough milk to feed an army of children, despite you merely birthing one, and while they are heavy and hard to the touch, wearing clothes has always been a far worse agony. The creamish silk has been damp even before Aemond has touched you, and so it’s no surprise droplets of milk trickle from your darkened buds as soon as your fingers touch them. 

And that is the moment he stops being careful, bowing down to capture one bud with his lips and press his body against yours. It’s a mix between a gasp and moan that slips past your lips, yet it’s enough to make clear the relief you feel. 

The position all but forces him to roll his hips against yours languidly, but neither of you mind for it seems to bring you both enough pleasure. You can feel him suckle on your breast in the rhythm your cunt clenches around his cock. His cheeks dimpled from the suction; he’s propped up on one elbow, using his hand to pinch and roll the other bud between his fingers. 

He alternates between licking and sucking, not keen on wasting just one drop of your precious milk. “Gods, Aemond,” you whine, arching your back against him. You feel him throb inside of you at the despair audible in your voice, spurring him on. 

Your hips move on their own accord now, grinding against his and matching his movements, the pain in your belly and breasts long forgotten as you chase your pleasure. 

A couple of moments pass until you feel Aemond’s breath growing labored, his chest almost heaving with more and more muffled grunts and groans escaping his throat. He is loud – much to your surprise – but your body seems keen at that, the pressure inside of your belly tightening at a rapid pace.

As his lips wrap around your other bud, the knot in your belly snaps. It’s either gripping the sheets or his hair to keep yourself grounded, and you opt for the latter, burying your hands inside of his silver strands. You use the grip to pull him closer to your breasts, more out of instinct than of clear will. 

The sheets below you are soaked with a blend of your arousal and moonblood, trickling out of your cunt and coating Aemond’s cock and the sac of his stones. It’s the tightness of your peak’s contractions that eventually forces the seed from your husband, milking him for every last drop of his spent. His muscles go rigid, yet he hardly withdraws from your bud to release grunts and groans, too drunk on what’s supposed to be for your son. 

He bites down as he spills inside of you, harder than you like considering your whole body is a sensitive mess at this point, but you do not begrudge him – it’s well deserved with how caring and careful he’s been to tend to your needs. 

He buries his face between your now soft and tender breasts as you leisurely ride out your peaks, both your movements slowly, but surely, coming to a stop. You tug on his hair, and the sight of his half-lidded eye and his swollen lips makes you clench around him once more. 

While Aemond swallows a groan, you urge his face towards yours for a kiss, moaning at the taste of your milk on his tongue. Labored breaths fan across each other’s faces as his mouth leaves yours, and you take a moment to stare at each other silently. 

“Is the pain… has it eased?” Aemond’s voice is a hoarse whisper. Panting softly, he sits back on his haunches. 

A small, bashful smile curves your lips, the haze of desire beginning to lift. Your body still thrums with the aftereffects of his endeavors. “I am quite alright,” you reply. “But perhaps we should indulge in a bath. I do believe a soak in hot water may alleviate my discomfort even more, and it seems we have both made quite the mess.”

You notice the mischievous gleam in his good eye. “If that is what my love desires, then consider it done. I shall have hot water brought to our chambers, and then I shall ensure that every bit of your discomfort is soothed.”

#aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen x reader #prince aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen #hotd aemond #aemond fanfiction #aemond smut #aemond x reader #aemond fic #aemond x you #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen fic #aemond targaryen x female reader #aemond targaryen x targaryen!reader #hotd x y/n #hotd x reader #hotd x you #hotd imagine #hotd fic #hotd fanfic #hotd smut #house of the dragon smut #house of the dragon fic #house of the dragon fanfiction #house of the dragon aemond #aemond stannies #ewan mitchell fanfic #ewan mitchell fandom

[yukoii1]

↳ a.n ; i’m feeling a bit angsty tonight :3. also it’s like 11, I wrote this half awake so i’ll edit this when I can but enjoy. 🫦

katsuki | katsuki didn’t handle your death lightly. his whole attitude had took a heavy turn since your death. he’s gotten a lot more aggressive, more meaner, cold..he barley talked to kirishima or denki or anyone at most either ignoring them or giving them short answers. his temper has also gotten much shorter, he would snap even at the smallest things. the class knew katsuki was grieving over your death— everyone else was too but he wasn’t handling it very good. they knew where he was coming from, you both grew up with one another. you guys got into u.a together, you did everything together. you two had such an unbreakable bond, you were the fire that kept him going most of the times..but when that fire went out? so did he.

every night he had dreams about that day. you’re all bloody, laying in his arms with fatal wounds, as you took your final breaths. your last words..those last moments kept repeating constantly in his head, “I..I love you…ka—suki..” you kept that same smile on your face weven when death was consuming you. your hand resting weakly on his cheek as he shook his head shouting for you to keep your eyes open, his voice started to fade slowly away as you reached your time. the last thing he saw on your face was your perfect smile. what ate him up the most was the fact he never got to tell you he loved you back. that’s what’s eating him alive every-night. opening his eyes wide and big, panting heavily with tears coming down his face.

his hands in search for you but when he felt your cold side..it reminded him. you’re gone. you weren’t coming back. he couldn’t sleep half nights, going into classes with bags under his eyes.. more quieter than usual. no matter how much he thought about you, your smile, your pretty face..you weren’t coming back. sleepless nights he would try to hold back his tears to stay strong but he couldn’t. he missed you so fucking back..your dumb jokes, your annoying kisses, your pretty laugh?. all he had left of you was one part of your costume that wasn’t ripped to shreds, it was your scarf. as he held it in his hand he held it tight letting his muffle cry’s sink through the cold night.

Izuku | he didn’t handle it well. he stopped talking to everyone. ever since your funeral he hasn’t been the same, seeing you lay lifeless in front of his eyes deepened his heart into a dark place. he would barley eat, he would barley socialize, everyone was worried about Izuku but he would always say. “I’m fine!.” with a big smile on his face but they knew he wasn’t fine. he was grieving. heavily. throughout trainings he would push himself, overwork himself as he remembered your final moment where you died in his arms. costume torn, blood everywhere, seeping out of you as he tried to stop it. he tears hitting your face as you smiled weakly putting a hand on his cheek as he placed his on top of yours, “I-Izu—ku..” you said weakly, a choked gasp, “I’m here! I’m here..don’t go..please!.” he begged and begged, you could only smile so brightly at him, taking big breaths as your mind became fuzzy, “I-I will always..b..e with you..” his heart dropped more and more as his grip on you tightened shaking his head, putting more pressure on your wound. “don’t say that!you’ll be ok..y-you’ll be ok..” you gave an airy chuckle, “I..lo..ve you..Izu..ku..” those were your final words to him. his mind was clouded with that moment, still visualizing seeing your blooded body laying with him.

he was lost into his thoughts, he couldn’t hear what bakugo was trying to say to him, he just kept throwing an attack after an attack. his memory was fuzzing up with that exact moment, he couldn’t get it out of his head!. it was chewing him alive, he was angry, he was sad—. what seemed like forever to get ahold of Izuku he was snapped out of his thoughts by one of the welders speaking to him. when he realized what happened, he seen a shocked bakugo who didn’t say much but just look at him, he then looked at all might who looked worried. he slowly floated down, landing on the ground mumbling a small sorry, before rushing away from the training ground ignoring all mights call. he wasn’t his normal happy self, he went deep in a dark hole suffocating with this burden attached to him.

the burden of not being there to protect you from getting killed. his fist’s clenches against the piece of fabric that was left from your suit. it was still dirty and bloody from the battle, memories kept going through his head as he tried to not think about it but he couldn’t. the moment the first welder told him, “it’s ok to cry when you lose someone that you care for deeply. it’s ok to let go, izuku.” the tears he tried keeping locked away fell down his face, the fabric he held in his hand tightened as he broke down. you both practically grew up with each other, did everything together, when you died..he felt like a piece of him was gone. you were gone. no matter how many times he’s shouted for you to open your eyes…you weren’t coming back.

#black reader #anime x black!reader #anime x reader #{ 🖋️} writings #angst #mha x black reader #mha angst #light angst #mha fanfiction #mha x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki x you #bakugou x black reader #katsuki bakugou #bakugou x you #izuku midoriya x black reader #izuki midoriya #izuku x y/n #deku x black!reader #mha deku #bakudeku

[treedaddymcpuffpuff]

Excessive Force : Tom Ludlow x Fem Nurse Reader (COLLAB W/ THE INCREDIBLE @johnwickb1tsch) - Chapter One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten Eleven Twelve Thirteen Fourteen Fifteen Sixteen Seventeen

TW: nsfw, angst

You wake up to the smell of bacon, coffee, and something sweet in the skillet.

Usually such a thing would mean you are dreaming, and you need to wake your ass up before you’re late for work. But you roll over to look into your tiny kitchen, finding a sight fit for Playgirl Magazine before your disbelieving eyes.

Dear Penthouse, I can’t believe this actually happened to me…

Detective Tom Ludlow is in your kitchen, making pancakes…in nothing but a towel around his trim waist. His dark hair is combed back, still wet from the shower. His broad shoulders are something to write home about–Kansas farm boys had nothing on this beautiful specimen of masculinity.

Had the night before even been real?

As though he senses your return to consciousness–or maybe the weight of your gawker’s stare upon him–he turns to look at you. “Morning, beautiful.”

You blink with surprise, because he is talking to you.

“Hi,” you greet, clever as ever, and goddammit but are you blushing?

“Whacha looking at?” he teases, spatula in hand. The very picture of domestic bliss. God help you, but in that moment you were 300 percent ready to put a ring on this man.

“Just…the most best thing I’ve ever seen,” you admit, knowing you’ll kick yourself for it later.

However, the smile he pays you, smug yet somehow gentle–it fries your brain entirely.

“Likewise, sweetheart.” He crosses the short space with a few long strides to press his lips to yours. “You like pancakes with blueberries?”

You’d bought the ingredients–and promptly stuck them in the cupboards–for just such a purpose, thinking that someday, when you had time, and weren’t bone fucking tired from working 12 hour shifts days in a row, you’d make a point to treat yourself.

Funny, how that never happened, until Tom Ludlow came around.

Here you are, getting emotional about blueberry fucking pancakes.

“Yes,” is the only answer you can muster, and he kisses you so sweetly that it curls your toes.

His soft smile down at you will be the death of you. “Sleep well?”

“Like a well-fucked rock,” you tell him, winning a bark of masculine laughter. 

“Likewise, beautiful. Definitely likewise.” He vacates the couch to flip his pancake. You continue to stare, still dumbfounded.

“Tom?” you ask, still struggling to wake up.

“Yeah, baby?”

“Did last night…actually happen?”

��Sure did. Don’t you remember driving to Vegas? We got the best Elvis in the building.”

You blink stupidly for a few moments, before registering his absolutely shit-eating grin.

“Very funny. And the joke would be on you, if you married me on a drunken lark.”

“Why?” he asks, seemingly amused by your discomfort.

“I told you. I’m a fucking mess.”

“Far as I can tell? You’re fucking perfect, and I’ll fight anyone who says otherwise.” 

You’re not really sure why this pithy little compliment brings tears to your eyes, your lip quivering. Only a beat later does he notice, and he rushes over again.

“Hey, hey, no crying, baby, I’m sorry. What’s wrong? I was just joking.”

You swipe at your eyes with the heels of your hands, embarrassed. “You’re just..so sweet, and I actually fucking believe you, when you say this shit, ok?”

He blinks, but god bless, it only takes him a moment to assess, and act. He presses his soft lips to yours, then his forehead to your forehead, as though he can will you to accept his declarations through osmosis. “Believe it,” he tells you. “It’s true…well. Not the Elvis bit. We can do that next weekend if you want.”

You know he’s joking…but it still doesn’t fail to utterly melt your insides. This man who manhandled and harrassed you has turned out to be the biggest fucking softy, and you just might lose your shit.

You’ve already cried in front of him too many times, though, so you play it off and act like what he’s saying is no big deal. “Really? I think I’d rather have Michael Jackson instead.” 

You wonder if he misses being married. If he fucked his wife like he’d fucked you last night…you can’t fathom stepping out on him. But then you also know, that sometimes cops can also be married to their jobs. It could make for a difficult threesome. You imagine going without him, while he was working an intense case, would be absolute hell.

Tom snorts. “Whatever floats my lady’s boat,” he answers, flipping another pancake onto the stack. He ports them to the table with a flourish. “Come eat, sweet girl. You gotta work today?”

“Later. Unfortunately.”

He sticks his full lip out in a pout that should be illegal on a grown ass man. “Then eat quickly, because I’m not done with you yet.” he informs you with a wicked smirk that causes a brand new flood between your already sticky thighs. 

He turns, that broad, tapered back on full display, to finish plating breakfast, and you can’t not watch the tight muscle in his butt shift in the thin towel. You get this sudden strange urge to sink your teeth into him and latch on, and wonder if ancient cavewomen bit their partners to lay claims. Because that’s what Tom Ludlow works on—the part of your spongy brain that developed before speech and theory—the part that wants to bite and howl. 

Evolution is a bitch. 

Oh no, he can cook. And cook good. The pancakes he sets in front of you, drizzled with honey and topped with fresh blueberries, taste like a fluffy heaven in your mouth. Even the coffee is splendid, done up blonde and sugary just the way you prefer. “Tom, damn,” you compliment between mouthfuls. “You went out to get blueberries?” It’s selfish, but the thought of him leaving you alone even to run out and grab something for you makes your insides twist uncomfortably. 

“Oh, no, I borrowed some from your neighbor.” 

Of course at that moment you have an entire mouthful of coffee that you almost spray on his bare, beautiful chest. “What?!” 

He adopts a bemused smile. “Very nice lady.”

“Please tell me you had more than just a towel on?” 

“Less, actually.” 

He bursts into laughter and the astonished look on your face. 

“I’m gonna kick your ass, Ludlow.” 

“She asked me something really interesting.” He wipes a little honey off your top lip and sucks it into his mouth, making you dumb enough to forget you’re annoyed. “She asked me if I’m the nightmare?” 

“I have no idea what she’s talking about.”

“You are a terrible little liar, you know that? I can see your tell from a mile away.” 

“Oh, what is it?” You smirk, shove a bite of pancake into your mouth. 

“You’re lucky I’m hungry,” he threatens, playful and promising, sending a thrill through your chest. 

You grab a glob of honey on your finger and kitten lick it off, almost bold enough to make direct eye contact with him for more than five seconds while you’re doing it. “Or what?” 

He pops up from his seat, and your first instinct is run. Run away. You make it two steps before he has you grabbed around the waist and is dragging you back to his place at the table. 

Your squeals of nervous laughter crescendo into a moan when he pulls you down onto his big cock. It surprises you as much as it did last night, how well he fills and stretches you. Not a piece of your fluttery hole unpunished by his silky, maddening pressure. You immediately grind, eager for that pressure to shift and rub and build you, but he stills you with a mitt on your waist. 

Then his big hands bunch in the ruffled fabric of your sundress, which somehow you never managed to remove amidst both of your eagerness to get to other parts of you instead. Slowly he draws it up over your head, tossing it away somewhere across the room. Before you can even begin to think about feeling self conscious he makes a low sound of appreciation behind you, running his hands down your curves. 

“So fucking beautiful. I just wanna stay inside this pretty little pussy all day,” he tells you, smoothing his wet tongue across your shoulder. You arch into him, and he nips your skin for the retaliation. “Feel her throb while I tell you what I wanna do to her. Jesus, you’re soaked.” 

You try to squeeze your thighs together for precious friction on your clit, but he tugs them back open, chuckling at the pathetic attempt. “You wanna fuck yourself, baby?”

“Yes. Fu-uhck.” 

“Want me to pet that pretty clit while you ride me?” He kisses up your neck, into your hairline, tugs your ear between his teeth and you see white fire. 

“Yes, Tom. Yes. Please.” 

“Then eat your breakfast.” 

It’s impossible to focus on the delicious food anymore. The chunks of stuff getting forked into your mouth are no match for the small taste of him. It isn’t long before he’s done with silverware and hand feeding you, making you lick and suck his sticky fingers clean. 

“Atta girl. Keeping me all warm and cozy.” His mouth traces circles on your upper back that make you twitch and gasp while his heavy pointer and index finger rest on your tongue, sweet and salty-pleasure and pain-the desire to move trumping all of it. 

When his fingers trail up your side and land on your nipple, rolling and pinching, you clench your thighs shut again. He grunts at you, although you think it was meant to be a sound of disapproval before you clenched deliberately on his cock. 

“You want to cum?” 

“Yessss.” 

“Then open your legs back up.” 

You obey with a groan of frustration, widening your hips so that the tantalizing pressure is off your throbbing clit. That means all you can focus on is having him inside you, and that would be great if he would just fucking thrust. 

Knock. Knock. Knock.

He grabs your hips to hold you in place. “You’re busy.” 

“Could be important,” you say. 

“More important than this?” He grinds up, into your cervix, into all the sensitive soaked walls of your cunt, and the answer to his question is no. Absolutely not. There is nothing more important than him or his cock. 

“Tom,” you hiss. 

He sighs. “Alright. I’ll get it. Get dressed.” 

How empty you feel, when you slide off of his cock as you stand on trembling legs. He halts your progress by gripping your hips, pressing his mouth to the curve of your buttocks. You forget about the door, and everything else, turning in his arms so that he can bury his face in your cleavage. “These beautiful–” He kisses one breast cupped in his hand, “Naughty,” a kiss for the other, just beside your nipple, the tease, “titties are in so much trouble.” He sucks on your perked nipple with a pop, making you cry out. 

Knock knock knock.

“Someone’s fucking determined,” he grumbles against your skin. 

Reluctantly you manage to pull away from him, and you remember this state of the art technology in your door called a peephole. Naked as a jaybird, you peer through the tiny lens–and gasp at the sight on the other side.

This clearly interests Tom, his head canting at an angle in question. You shake your head, just knowing a perfect storm is brewing. “It’s no one. Ignore it,” you say quietly, hoping they don’t hear you on the other side, praying they have the sense to go away. You try to distract Tom again with kisses and by trying to pull him towards the bedroom, but dammit this man is solid as a fucking tree when he doesn’t want to move.

“Who is it?” he asks with a lifted brow.

Knock knock. “Y/n? I know you’re home.”

Goddammit.

What can only be described as a wicked grin spreads over Tom’s handsome features. “Oh. Let’s say hello, shall we?” 

#tom ludlow x reader #keanuverse fic #keanuverse

[buncatz]

sick hoddie

paring: boyfriend!seokmin x gn!reader

genre : kinda hurt/comfort?, fluff

waring(s): reader is sick and going through a bad time, reader is smaller than seokmin, sweet loving boyfriend!seokmin, seokmin being a sweetheart, mentions of reader feeling inferior, a lot of love.

A/N: i been sick all this week and i'm feeling like shit so i thought that while i rest i can write about being take care of, this is my first long "fic" and english isn't my first language so im sorry if you see any errors anyways enjoy （╹◡╹）

seokmin usually lets people see what he thinks or feels, but the only thing he couldn't expose himself would be to talk about how much he likes to see you in his hoodies, at first it was normal, he realized from the beginning realize how forgetful you are, on one of your first dates the time passed quickly than he thought and soon enough it was night, normally the weather tends to get cold, you being yourself forgot about bringing a hoodie just in case, but Seokmin, seeing how uncovered you were, didn't hesitate for a second and he offered you his hoodie.

this was his downfall

Seeing yourself so small when wearing his sweatshirt, along with that feeling that everyone around you knew was his sweatshirt and that you were now occupying it for some reason filled him with pride and love.

But this was just the beginning

Now a few months has passed, you and seokmin are celebrating 5 months of being together, he has always been a romantic so he decided to invite you on a date, everything was fine until now, you didn't expect to wake up so sick. When you woke up the first thing you felt was a huge headache, combined with a sore throat and a stuffy nose, it was the perfect match for feeling like shit

You decided to continue with the day and you got up to wash your face. When you did so, you felt a breeze of cold and loneliness consuming you. A feeling of isolation was so big that you just wanted a hug and to feel good sooner, remembering that your boyfriend a few days ago "unintentionally" left his hoodie in your place, you didn't think twice and put it on. At the moment you did so, you felt the smell of your boyfriend invading your nostrils and the heat of the sweatshirt helped you feel a little better.

After a few minutes of sitting on your bed complaining while you coughed and sneezed, you heard the ringtone of your phone. When you answered it, you were welcomed with the melodious voice of your boyfriend, "good morning sweetie, how did you sleep? Are you ready for our day?" he asked enthusiastically, you instantly felt guilty upon hearing so much emotion on his part, when you opened your mouth to respond your body betrayed you (more than it already was) and with a weak voice you replied "good morning handsome, I slept well but I waked up being sick, I'm so sorry" Seokmin, being the attentive boyfriend, was able to realize the state you were in, not taking any importance to the plans he had for today and dedicating all his attention to you, he spoke "hey it's okay, Do you want me to go see you?" He asked gently, probably even if you refused he would come anyway, but you felt too tired to fight him so you just accepted with a weak smile.

After a few minutes you heard a knock on the door, with the little strength you had you went at a slow pace to open the door, when you did so you were greeted by the warm smile of your boyfriend "I'm sorry if took too long honey, I went to buy some things for you." "he said lovingly and then upon entering he kissed you on the forehead you replied with a hug.

He instantly realized that the hoodie you were wearing was his, feeling your weak touch made him realized how much you needed him, a few minutes after his arrival you found yourself wrapped in blankets as he showed you the things he bought you, among them were medicines, some vegetables and your favorite snacks.

Throughout the morning he was constantly checking on you, first he made you take the medication that he previously bought, while he tucked and left you in a comfortable place, he went to the kitchen to make you the miraculous "mingyu's sick soup" that in his words always helped him get better when he got sick, every now and then he would come back to you asking about your health.

When Seokmin finished cooking, he brought you the food. At this rate, you couldn't resist anymore and you burst into tears, which alerted your boyfriend.

"Hey honey, what's wrong? Don't you want to eat?" He asked worriedly as he took your face in his hands carefully wiping your tears with his thumbs. As you calmed down you looked at him with a pout and opened your mouth "I'm sorry for ruining our day, now we could have done what you had planned but you're here taking care of me." as if I were a child" you said between sobs, you tried to speak again but Seokmin's voice cut you off "hey beautiful, it's okay, you haven't ruined the day, if I'm here it's because I want to take care of you because I love you and I want to see you well "Apart from the fact that I don't care what I had planned, what I wanted was to spend the day with you" he said softly while leaving small kisses on your head, after reassuring you he began to feed you, with the excuse that you don't have to do any extra work, you just have to rest and let him love you.

In what remained of the day, Seokmin dedicated it to you, making sure you ate, that you were comfortable and, above all, showering you with kisses and hugs, even with your protests that you were going to make him sick, he couldn't care less since he The only thing I wanted was to see you smile.

Now you were watching the series that you liked so much, Seokmin was under you while his arms surrounded you, his hand was gently placed on your head giving you small caresses and it was at that moment where you realized that Seokmin's love was enough to be able to make you feel better than you ever thought.

#svt x reader #lee seokmin #seokmin x reader #seokmin fluff #svt fluff #svt fanfic #svt imagines #svt seokmin #seventeen imagines #seventeen fluff #seokmin imagines #seokmin x you #seokmin scenarios #dokyeom #dokyeom x reader #dokyeom seventeen #seventeen dk #dk x reader #dk x y/n #seventeen #svt

[annwrites]

just thought you might be lonely

— pairing: billy hargrove x fem!reader

— type: ficlet (part of a series)

— summary: billy comes to see you again, bringing you dinner & the two of you share hard truths

— tags: billy pining

— tw: mention of drugs, mention of domestic violence, eating

— word count: 4,117

— a/n: finding gifs of billy that even somewhat fit my posts for this series is gonna be difficult as hell

Billy struggles to get to sleep that night, because every time he begins to drift off, his heart starts to pound as he thinks about seeing you again the following day.

He feels like a damn teenager again at the excitement that fills him at the prospect of it—finally learning more, anything—about you. You clearly were not a social butterfly. Content to be left alone was more your style. That much was easy to detect right away. And, normally, he would respect that. But there was just something there that drew him in, left him wanting for more.

He was lonely. Had been his entire life. Even when he was surrounded by people worshipping the ground he walked on. And it didn't take much observation to reach the summation that you were as well. Why else would you be spending your spare time in an abandoned house in the middle of nowhere?

He wonders where you come from. Is your dad, or even your mom, like his? Surely you're not homeless, and he hadn't chased you out of the only place you had to call home, right? He frowns at that thought.

The least he could do to make it up to you was offer you...something. Money? He has a feeling you may be insulted by that. What if he offered to work on the house, then? Just some general repairs. Were you going hungry? He could always bring you something to eat—whatever you wanted.

He sighs, rolling over, squeezing his eyes shut. And is then greeted by the sight of you staring up at him from inside that closet.

It was going to be a long night.

Billy drags the next day at work. Thankfully, he doesn't commit any screw-ups, but he does end up cursing a bit more than usual while working on the undercarriage of a Pontiac.

He's beyond relieved once the workday is through and he can leave. He has half-a-mind to head straight home, desperate for a hot shower and a lie-down, as well as dinner, but instead opts for a brown bag filled with greasy diner food, and driving up that dirt road yet again.

"You here? I brought dinner!" Billy calls into the empty house.

He heads upstairs, same as yesterday, and the room with the mattress—as well as the closet—is empty.

He turns back around, trying the door you had locked yesterday...and finds it unlocked.

He steps inside, and finds furniture covered in stained white sheets, and there is indeed a window on the wall opposite him, which is now shut.

So, you'd been back. He wonders if you're here now, then decides he's not leaving until he's looked through every room.

A normal person wouldn't be trying this hard—honestly, a normal person wouldn't have cared this much in the first place about you coming here—but he was committed to getting answers now. No matter how long it may take.

The next room he tries has nothing more than a broken bedframe in it, a wooden bedside table with a lamp set atop it beside of it—the shade hanging loosely from it, and a shattered window. The one past it is a small bathroom, with a clawfoot tub against the left wall, a toilet and sink against the other, which all need a good scrubbing.

He sighs, going to try the room to his left now—the one before the room with the mattress—and finds the door locked.

He smiles. "Found you," he mutters.

He doesn't bother with knocking; he knows you won't open it. So, he instead kneels, setting the brown bag on the floor, and retrieves a multi-purpose knife from his pocket, pulling out a miniature blade from the side, then jamming it in the lock. He doesn't bother trying to jimmy it open; working with the doorknob. Perhaps he was being an ass right now, but once he was done, the handle would never lock again.

If it meant that much to you, he'd replace it with his own money—his own two hands.

He hits the butt of the tool with the palm of his hand once, twice, three times, and then he twists, biting his lip, shoving it in further, hitting it again and then the door swings open.

He stands, pocketing the knife, picking up the bag, and finds you sitting on the other side below a closed window, back against the wall, arms crossed, legs outstretched, and by the look on your face, he can tell you're not pleased with him.

He gives a small smile, holding the bag up. "Brought you something to eat." He hopes it will now serve to warm you to him even just a bit, given what he'd just done to your new hiding place.

You continue to stare at him for a moment, before narrowing your eyes. "Has no one ever taught you the meaning of a locked door, or do you just not know how to take a hint?"

He smirks, shrugging one shoulder lightly before crouching down and settling himself beside you, back pressed firmly to the wall as he opens the bag, pulling out a cheeseburger. He holds it toward you.

Your hands remain in your lap, resting atop an open book as you merely glance to him. "I'm not eating that."

He frowns. "I got it for you."

You can't imagine why. What was this guy's problem, anyway? The fact he had apparently been watching you for two weeks had already set you on-edge. But this? He'd busted the damn lock just to get to you. Who knew what was in that burger.

You grab your novel, picking up where you'd left off as soon as you heard boots heading up the stairs again, just like yesterday.

That had certainly scared the living daylights out of you. If only you'd initially bothered hiding in the room with the window—the one also with a lock on the door—that you'd finally climbed out of. Then he most likely would've left this place and never come back.

Ruined. Now everything was ruined because this creep wanted a piece of jailbait. Not like he's the first.

He sighs, unwrapping it, suddenly understanding why you refuse to eat it. He takes a bite, chewing, swallowing, and then he holds it to you again. "There's nothing in it, if that's what you're-"

"I'm not eating after a stranger."

He pulls out the second burger, offering it to you.

You don't bother even looking at him as you turn a page, saying, "Maybe that one is drugged, and this was all a ruse to get me to take it instead."

He sets his hand in his lap, leaning his head back against the wall, but still looking at you. "If I wanted to have my way with you, I'd already have you on your back, y'know?"

You side-eye him at that comment, before returning to your book. "Think awful highly of yourself."

He smirks. "I think you know what I'm referring to."

A beat of silence, then, "That's creepy. What are you, anyway? Thirty? I'm seventeen, you know."

He scoffs. "Thirty? Knock a decade off that, hon'. Well, nine years."

You shrug. "Look old to me."

His lip twitches. Were you ribbing him? He tosses the burger in your lap then and you roll your eyes, leaving it.

He then takes another bite of his, then another. He swallows. "What're you reading?"

"A book."

His lip twitches again as he fights against a smile. You were being curt with him in a desperate attempt at getting him to leave, clearly, but what you didn't know was that being unwanted wasn't a new thing for him.

"Does it have a title?" He pushes his luck further—now, for some reason—wanting to get under your skin. Which he knows is just...wrong, as you'd done nothing to deserve it. Except drive him mad with questions. If not a bit of longing that he'd told himself more than once he didn't really feel. It was imagined. Or, rather, not about you at all.

Maybe he should just hire a hooker, and then he'd feel better. He rolls his eyes at the ridiculous idea.

"Yes."

"Well, do I need to guess it, too?" He asks, taking another bite.

You shrug, turning another page. "If that'll make you happy, Willy."

"Billy."

You finally look at him, then, and his heart jumps when your lovely eyes meet his own. "Hm?"

"My name. It's not Willy. I mean, William is technically right, but no one calls me that. Billy."

You study him for a moment. "Uh-huh."

He smirks. You were entertaining, if nothing else. God, he wants to fucking touch you.

"You really going to let it go to waste?"

"I never asked you to bring me food." You turn back to your book. "Or come back here in general. Incase it isn't obvious, as it seems most things must not to be to you: I come here to be alone. Your presence is sort of defeating that purpose."

You were such a smartass.

"Just thought you might be lonely. Thought that maybe my thrilling company would be preferable to-"

"It's not."

You stop reading then, only pretending to. Maybe he was just trying to be nice, for whatever reason. Maybe...maybe he was lonely, too. But if he wanted back in your good graces, he was going to be replacing the lock.

You shouldn't feel guilty for your shortness with him. You'd not asked—or, much more, invited—him here. He'd just given himself permission to intrude on what you'd eventually come to consider your domain. Your place of peace.

You sigh, shutting the book, picking up the burger.

He smiles as he watches you take a bite, and then another. "Can I ask you somethin'?"

You swallow, looking at him.

"How'd you even find this place?"

"Walking." You take another bite.

"You don't...live here, right?"

You're silent for a moment, continuing to eat—the burger now halfway gone. "No. But if you even want to attempt at getting on my good side, you'll be replacing the lock."

He turns the least bit more toward you. "Happily."

You roll your eyes, biting then chewing again.

"Anybody else know about it?"

You shrug. "I've never ran into anyone else here. Until yesterday." You give him a glare and he chuckles.

You speak again. "So, you've been stalking me, huh?"

He blanches. "I haven't."

You glance to the knob, then back to him.

He smirks, looking down, rubbing his thumb into the callused palm of his other hand. "Guess I got a bit carried away, huh?" He looks at you from under his lashes.

"Why do you care in the first place?" You ask, genuinely curious about his...motivations.

"You fascinate me."

You quickly swallow. "Why?"

He shrugs. "Why not? Honestly, for the last couple of weeks, you're all I've been able to think about. For the most part, at least."

You grow quiet at that. You're not sure whether you should blush or balk at such a statement. In all honesty, it makes you feel a tad uncomfortable. All of it does, really.

"Can't find a girl your own age?"

He leans his head back, smirking. "Funny. Now who thinks highly of themselves?"

You cross your ankles. "So, instead of finding a hobby, you develop an infatuation with a random teenage girl, track her down to an abandoned house, and break into the room she's hiding from you in. I shouldn't find that weird? Maybe I should call the police."

Hearing it put like that makes him feel...not well with himself. It makes him sound...he doesn't want to think of what it makes him sound like. He's not...like that. He just wanted answers. That was all.

"You're the one living here, and you call me weird? And with what landline, sweetheart?"

"I told you I don't live here," you quickly shoot back at him, not replying to his comment about the non-existent phone.

"Ok, spend spare time here, then."

"You're avoiding what I said," you reply, burger now nearly finished.

He stares straight ahead, out the now-open doorway. He'd have a stop to make after work tomorrow now. Well, an extra one. "I don't have many friends, incase you can't tell by now. Well, none, really. Not anymore."

Quite a pair, you muse, taking your last bite.

He continues. "I'm not saying that's what I came here to find. I just..." He sighs, leaning his head back, shutting his eyes, utterly fucking exhausted. Not even he knows what the damn hell he's doing here. "Couldn't let it go, I guess. I wanted to meet you. Don't ask me why, because your guess is as good as mine."

He feels something bounce off his face then, and when he opens his eyes, the silver wrapper from your burger is now resting in his lap.

He looks at you with a raised brow.

You have a small smile on your lips, and you look at him for only a moment before picking your book back up again.

"You live in town?" He asks.

"I don't know, do I?"

He rolls his eyes. "I haven't followed you anywhere but here."

"Where do you live?"

He crosses his arms. "Outskirts of town."

"Why not in it?"

He becomes quiet then and you can tell there's something there to be discovered.

"Just don't like living on top of everybody else."

You hum your response, not really buying that answer.

He speaks again. "You still live at home?"

"I'm seventeen, so what do you think?." You turn a page.

He shakes his head. "So, you go to Hawkins High?"

"Mhm."

"Me too. Well, did. Graduated four years ago." He looks at you. "You like going to school?"

You shrug. "I don't much care either way. I'd rather be here, but..."

"Why not spend your time at home instead?"

"You sure do have a lot of questions."

"Plenty more where that came from. Never did answer." And he truly means it.

You sigh, shutting your book once more. "You're making it very hard to concentrate."

He nearly makes a flirtatious comment at that. It was only four years between the two of you. Occasionally, he still felt your age. Sometimes, however, he felt twice his own. He refrains. "I'll leave you to your reading soon enough. I only have a few dozen questions."

You blink at him.

"That's not sarcasm, by the way," he states.

"I promise I'm not nearly as interesting as whatever story, or version of me that you've come up with inside your head."

He waves a hand. "That's to be determined."

You turn more toward him then with an interested look.

He smiles. "I didn't really come up with a story about you, exactly. Just about what might be out here. Maybe you were camping, or swimming, or climbing a treehouse everyday."

"Well, you're at least somewhat right."

He raises a brow. "Oh?"

"There's a swimming hole not far from here."

He nods for a moment, then, "Should we go?"

You snort, standing. "So the strange man can drown me with no witnesses? Not likely."

You exit the room then and he quickly stands as well, following after you. "Where're you-" He's cut short by the sight of you disappearing around a corner, heading downstairs.

His boots thump loudly against each step as he tries to catch up to you. "Hey!" He groans as he reaches the first floor, turning toward the back of the house, watching as you exit through the rear screen door.

"The fuck am I doing," he mutters, following you outside.

He finds you seated on a porch swing that's missing a couple pieces of wood, the white paint nearly gone.

You stare up at him, watching as he positions his hands on his hips, only glancing momentarily to his partially unbuttoned shirt. You slip off your sneakers, crossing your legs before you as you begin to lightly swing yourself.

He looks off into the distance and sees the place is surrounded by yet more tall grass, but there's also a few apple trees. Surprising, he thinks.

He walks out, you watching him, as he pulls two ripe green apples from branches, heading back in your direction.

He sits, placing one on the banister behind the two of you before retrieving his pocket knife and slicing off a piece, handing it to you.

Gingerly, you take it from him, your fingertips brushing against his own, sending a jolt of excitement through him. Good lord, it'd truly been a long time, hadn't it? Since he had any form of female attention. Other than occasionally being ogled at the shop by women standing next to their soft-handed, clueless, accountant husbands.

You chew slowly, studying him.

And he just stares back at you doing the same. Only difference is, you don't seem bothered by the eye-contact. Four years ago, he would've known exactly what to do with you. Now? Not so much.

"Anything you want to ask me?" He says, eager to break the silence.

You consider for a moment, him now lightly rocking the both of you, pushing against the wooden floorboards of the back porch with his boots.

“Your accent—you’re not originally from here, are you?”

He’s quiet for a moment. “No. My old man moved us here when I was seventeen. From California.”

Long ways, city boy, you think. “Where is he now?”

He slices off another piece, popping it in his mouth, and then another one for you. He shrugs. “Still living in town. I run into him every now and again after work.”

There’s a story there. “Do you not get along?”

He’s silent again, slicing off another piece and then another. He has no idea why he chooses to divulge it to you, but if he wants you to trust him—to continue giving him answers as well—he has to give you something in return. “We never have. He used to smack my mom around. Until she left. Then it was just me, and I started getting the brunt of it. He remarried. Got a new step-daughter, which became my fuckin’ problem to look after. Once I was eighteen and out of school, he couldn’t get rid of me fast enough.”

You see the pain of it in his eyes, this truth he’s shared. You weren’t used to such honesty, because honest people were not the types you typically kept company with. By any means.

He looks at you again, handing you another slice.

You take it, chewing thoughtfully for a moment. 

“What about you?”

You stare at him for just a moment, wondering if you were really about to do this. Tell him this most dark, hidden truth about your life. One that…if it reached the wrong people—cops that weren’t already in the ‘right’ pockets—it could mean the end. For many. Not that you’d shed a tear to watch a single one of them fall. At least that way, they’d never touch you again. Ever.

“What do you do for a living?”

He frowns. “I asked you a question fir-”

“And if you want me to answer it, you’ll tell me what I’ve asked.”

His brows furrow. “I’m a mechanic.”

You sit forward then, holding out your hands. “Give me your hands, then.”

His confusion only grows. “What?”

“If you’re a mechanic, it means you work with your hands all day. They should be rough—callused. Otherwise, I’m going to assume you’re lying. Maybe you’re a cop. Maybe that’s why you’ve been watching me. Maybe you think you know something. So, you either give me your hands, or I leave, and this conversation is permanently over.”

He suddenly wonders just who the hell he’s talking to. What it is that you’re involved in, exactly.

He gives you his hands, and you turn them onto their palms. Callused most certainly, dirt—perhaps oil—seeped into the cracks, even. Rough like sandpaper. A familiar sensation that you’ve felt across every inch of you and then some.

You glance up to him, squeezing them tighter. “Are you a cop?” You ask with a raised brow, almost certain he isn’t. 

“Do I look like a cop?”

You continue to stare.

He sighs. “No, I’m not a fuckin’ cop.”

You let him go then, leaning back, crossing your arms. “My dad and I…we keep our distance from one another. I do as I’m told when he does occasionally tell me to do something—mostly helping him with the…family business, or household chores, and in return, I can do as I please without him bothering me.”

He takes one of your feet into his lap then, gently tugging your sock off, laying it to the side and massaging your sole. “And what is the ‘family business’, if you don’t mind me asking?”

You’d not been expecting the tender gesture on his part. But, you spent a lot of time walking. For various reasons. So, your feet aching was a regular occurrence. 

This was nice of him to do. Or perhaps he had other motives. Not that you'd be surprised. Men always did. Especially with you.

You’d not told this truth to anyone. And you’d known this man for perhaps an hour and you were ready to tell him this? Maybe you truly were a stupid girl. You’d heard as much a time or two.

“He’s a dealer. Meth, mostly.”

His hands falter. “And you help him by…?”

You shrug, reaching for the extra apple, taking a bite. “Like I said, doing as I’m told. That’s all you get for today. In regards to that question, at least. That subject.”

“And where is your mom in all of this?”

Another shrug. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

Where the damn hell had you come from? You seemed intelligent enough. Too much for your own good—or, perhaps, just enough. You did not come off as the daughter of a drug dealer.

He just looks at you, and you at him. His gaze softens. “You come here to get away from it. Does he make it in the house?”

You shake your head. “There’s a shed. Not that he doesn’t sometimes do it in the house, but it’s not often. That much he bothers with trying to keep away from me. He’s stressed time and again that he wants me to stay away from it, even if I’m surrounded by it…”

Your tone has grown quiet now, even perhaps a bit sad. 

You’re no longer looking at him.

“I’m sorry.” It’s all he can think to offer, and he knows it falls woefully short of what you deserve to hear.

You take another bite, a small one. “Me too.”

He leans his head back, closing his eyes, hand resting atop your ankle. “Just when I thought this shithole couldn’t get any worse.”

“You asked.”

His lip twitches. “I guess the only difference now is that I know.”

You notice the swing has stopped rocking. “Been here the whole time.”

“I guess so.”

After a handful of minutes, he begins to snore softly, and you know it’s time to go. You gently remove your foot from his lap, then reach over, retrieving your sock, and slipping it back on, then your sneakers.

You walk over, shrugging on your backpack, and then you stop and stare at him for just a moment.

He truly was very…pretty. For a man, that is. The types you were often around were typically more on the rugged or rough side. Handsome could be the adjective used to describe one or two. Pretty, however? Never. 

Long, dark lashes, full lips, bright eyes—when they’re open, that is—a sharp jawline, and dark stubble, hard planes across his abdomen; what you can see of it, at least. He almost looks like he belongs on the cover of a magazine. Perhaps Popular Mechanic, you think with a smirk. 

You step over to him, then lean down, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. And then you consider for a moment, before brushing another over his lips before pulling back, whispering ‘see ya’, before heading out. 

When Billy wakes again, it’s not quite an hour later, and when he looks to the side of him, you’re gone, an apple core sitting in the spot you’d previously occupied. 

He rises, stretching, then heading inside, calling for you. To no avail. 

He heads upstairs, and finds every room and closet empty. So he heads back down, exiting the house, knowing: he’ll see you tomorrow—his mystery girl.

#fic: stranger things (billy hargrove x reader) #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove x female reader #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove x you #stranger things x y/n #stranger things x you #stranger things x reader

[sweetiesicheng]

jeonghan - playground

word count : 591

-

"y/n?"

you looked down from looking at the nighttime sky and saw jeonghan standing a few feet away from you.

"oh, hello," you quietly greeted him.

he walked over to the empty swing next to you and sat down on it. you noticed a drink in one hand, most likely from one of the nearby convenience stores. he gripped one of the chains of the swing with his other hand.

"how have you been?" he asked you.

"i've been...alright," you answered, looking down at the ground in front of you. "have you been well?" you asked him.

"for the most part."

the two of you had broken up a few months ago, and you rarely communicated with each other afterwards. the last time you most likely texted him was on his birthday. you two had broken up on good terms, but you ended up just never attempting to communicate with him again. it was kind of awkward, considering how you two had many shared friends and other acquaintances.

it's sad to think you haven't talked to him. you always wanted to, but you never wanted to bother him. you never knew if he was talking to someone else…

"it's funny, us running into each other here," jeonghan said to you. you looked over at him, "at the place where we first met.” he took a sip of his drink and glanced over at you, “how's your sister?"

the two of you had first met back in high school. he was with a group of friends cutting through the playground while you were watching your younger sister, who was in elementary school at the time, playing on the playground equipment. one of jeonghan's friends, hoshi, had bumped into you, and jeonghan had helped you back up.

"we both live nearby. it's only natural to come here every so often," you said to him. "my sister, she's good. she's abroad right now and having fun," you mentioned. then, you stood up, "i'm going home. it was nice seeing you," you quickly said to him.

"wait."

just as you were about to take a step, jeonghan spoke up.

"can i tell you something?" he asked.

you turned to look at him, putting your hands in your pockets since you were starting to get cold.

"y/n, i..." he trailed off, clearly conflicted to speak. "y/n, i come here because i miss being with you and coming here reminds me of you," he spoke, admitting feelings that he evidently wanted to hide at first. "i usually come in the middle of the night when i can't sleep, but i just..."

you stared at him, realizing something.

"sorry for keeping you from leaving. you should—"

"i come here because i miss you too, jeonghan," you spoke, interrupting him. you laughed, trying to not make things feel so awkward, "we ended it on good terms, but how come i'm so sad?"

jeonghan got up and walked over to you. once he was close enough to you, he pulled you into his arms.

"i love you."

you hid your face in his chest with tears streaming down your face.

"this is when you're supposed to say it back to me."

"how can i say it while i'm crying?!" you yelled at him, very muffled but jeonghan got the gist of it.

he pulled away a little and started wiping your tears.

"wanna come over? we can talk about this," he asked you.

you nodded your head. "can we get a snack first?"

"absolutely. come on."

#sweetiesicheng #kpop #sweetiesicheng seventeen #seventeen #seventeen x reader #seventeen x y/n #seventeen x you #seventeen fanfic #carat #seventeen fanfiction #seventeen yoon jeonghan #yoon jeonghan #jeonghan #jeonghan x y/n #jeonghan x reader #jeonghan x you #jeonghan x oc #jeonghan fanfiction #seventeen jeonghan fanfic #jeonghan fanfic #seventeen fan fiction #svt fanfic #svt x reader #svt x you #svt x y/n #svt x oc #seventeen vocal team #seventeen vocal unit #svt jeonghan #svt yoon jeonghan

[watchingblsnowandforever]

Hello!!

The crack post saga continues... =D

Warning: long, long post 😊😅

To be very honest though, for today's ep I will be getting serious more than usual, because it was quite significant in the flow of the plot, and also had moments of communication (this emotional constipation is what makes me yearn for Cherry Magic ah) that need to be studied a little closely.

HOWEVER, there will most definitely be crack because this group of friends is (unapologetically) batshit crazy and my brain refuses to not make comments at the most inappropriate times.

Peem: NO ONE SAW ME CUDDLING MY CRUSH TO SLEEP RIGHT?!

The sheer panic in his movements, oh my gods. It should not be as hilarious as it is 😭😂

To be very honest though, I would've panicked a bit in his place too, with friends like those, they'd never let him live it down

Peem is so cute 😭

Nothing to see here, just a guy getting shy over how his prince charming hom-ed him, and they kissed through his hand and cuddled all night hehe

Phum: here he comes again :) *eye twitch*

Peem's expression, how he's still holding his hands as if he has the cup, Kluen's disbelief, and Phum's smug af face-

I'm wheezing 😭🤣

Kluen, I'm kinda starting to like you, but no.

You don't stand half a chance against them and their situationship.

Hope you find another boyfriend to fall in love at first sight with (and leave my boys alone please, they don't need any more complications) <3

Oh, Fang knows too. Of course he does, that's his little brother right there

We all know how protective of his brother he is, there's no way he'd let anybody else take care of him... unless, he knew Phum liked that person

les voila

Poor Tan, his theerak just ignoring him T-T

*looks between them* yeah, pretty much the same pic 👀

And here it is. The root of all his fears.

See, in this camp, almost all of them are paired up in the sense that they usually stick to that person. Even Beer has MIck. But then comes wild card Kluen, who's hogging all of Peem's attention as much as he can and that leaves Phum. Alone.

I will be getting back to this running motif of Phum being alone and how it changes through the ep in later scenes as well

Also, after they went back, both Mick and Beer asked if he really was okay, which made me smile, because maybe, Phum isn't as alone as he thinks himself to be. There are people who care for him, who are concerned, who'll support him, and of course, he always has Fang, his beloved phi

My poor babie Tan 🥺🥺

Also, notice how the shot is taken in such a way that they're the only ones in the frame, and are also standing within one specific part of the wall? (Ignore Kluen's head and hands please). It reflects how they're in their own world with each other, especially Tan

The nosy peeps gang strikes again!

Jokes aside, the synchronised strides, the background music together set the perfect levels of suspense and comedy

Peem, smug: yes! that emotionally constipated dumbass is finally getting out of De Nile

Pun: wait... is my plan actually working? Ah, of course it is

Toey: head empty, no thoughts, but... DOES P'Q ACTUALLY LIKE ME OMG I'LL DIE

Oh gods, FINALLY. I wish them a happily ever after. Sadhu 😌🙏🏼

Pun forgetting all about being quiet when Toey finally confesses is so on character 😭👍🏼

Also... what's even the point of being quiet? Q and Chain have been friends with these idiots since high school, of course they know they're peeking

Toey: *shooketh*

Gays in thai bl and staring off into the distance 😭

This scene was so, so beautiful and also quite important for both Q and Toey

Q knew what was up, more or less, but his confusion stemmed from his knowledge of Toey

Would Toey really go to these lengths? For him?

"Why? Are you the only one who can tease me?" <- Q says this to tell Toey that he might have been angry, but now he understands that Toey didn't really have any bad intentions

Hugs always get bonus points from me, and this was pretty up there

Pun hiding behind Chain is so on point

His friends: you're an idiot so we had no choice but to intervene 😭😭

Matt's (JJ) comedic timing is >>>>>>

Toey and Matt's friendship is also given weight in the series, and I'm happier for it.

Also revenge is sweet ehehe *coughs*

Moving on.

If there's no live singing dedicated to your One True Love, is it even Thai BL??

We Are making generous use of MSP songs 😭👍🏼

This scene.

The apology. It is at this point that they're leaving all the past pain, grief and anger in the past

Q makes sure to tell Toey that yes, he may have loved Milk Frappe Boy, but now, in the present, all his love was for Toey, his lovable annoying mentee

This apology is not only to Toey, or Milk Frappe Boy, but to himself as well, because by causing pain to a person he loves twice, he'd caused himself pain too

The perfect sweet and romantic moment, but also with a teeny bit of teasing, because that's who they are

No joke, I gasped and nearly stopped breathing when he said this

Peem's reply, his soft but kind of hurt voice were just so painful to hear

But it's also this moment that Peem gives Phum a reality check – if he really didn't want to, he wouldn't be doing any of this, and Phum had no business trying to control his life

The conversation outside with Q was significant, but also a diluted reflection of Peem's earlier (in ep. 7) talk with Q

Even a few episodes earlier, Q would have gone ballistic on Phum for treating his bestie like this, but now, he asks Peem how he feels for Phum, tries to understand exactly what their relationship is

It was at this point that he knew, he fucked up

Beer is a godsent. I love him <3

I think Toey says "I asked hia Tan to blow it up for me."

Also, Tiw and his rubber duck floater from MSP anyone? 👀

And, we are back to square one where Phum is left alone again

As I'd said before, this a repeating motif throughout the series, but especially the last two episodes

This is how it has always been in Phum's life: he has been left behind. He does have Fang, but now even Fang has a boyfriend. And while this does not affect his brother's affection towards him in anyway, it does introduce a new strand of lonliness for Phum because 1. no matter what, he loves his brother a lot, and knows how much he loves Tan, so he definitely will try to stay out of their way at least sometimes and 2. he wants a boyfriend too. Further, he wants Peem, but there's a push and pull there, and after what he said, in his mind he had pretty much ruined his chances with his crush

This is the moment Phum starts to hope that maybe, just maybe, his feelings aren't as unrequited as he'd thought.

On the other hand, Peem is the one afraid here. What if the deal is all that's holding them together? What if without it, Phum will have no reason to be as close to him?

Peem, baby, for one, your groups are already merged, and secondly, this guy is head over heels for you, no way he'd stop following you like a lost puppy

(Apparently, it's not Peem's turn with the communal braincell this week 😭)

Here, Phum is technically alone, but he's surrounded with friends, and he's smiling

He isn't left behind here, for once, he's sitting there by choice (to shamelessly ogle his crush, but shh we don't talk about that) with the comforting knowledge that when/if he jumps in, he won't be left out, Kluen be damned

Once the floodgates of affection have been opened to Q, there's no going back <3

(Also, notice how Tan is already asleep on Fang's shoulder? 👀)

FINALLY

I HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS MOMENT SINCE PEEM KICKED PHUM'S BALLS

Jokes apart, this moment is so, so beautiful. The kiss, the soft question "are you ready for my answer now?" (maybe Peem isn't, but hell if he denies this man his kissies).

Everything leading up to this point is also so very delightful

Phum helping them out in the cafe, despite probably having never worked a day in his life, discovering how Peem still kept the roses and finally, finally, the completed painting. This sight, above all, is what convinces Phum that Peem might have feelings for him after all; because which fool would lie about not having completed something that would free them from being a slave to someone? A fool in love, that's who

ALSO,

if they don't get together and have the fluffiest moments in the next ep, I swear to god, hands will be thrown *grumbles* they're already making me wait a whole damn week

Anyways, that's all for this week, see you next ep! (I cannot promise I won't be jumping around and screaming, but then again, this is supposed to be a crack post so-)

And if you made it this far, thank you so much for reading! 😊

Here, have a bubble tea and a sandwich 🧋🥪

[If you'd like, here are my previous posts: Ep 8 and Ep 9.]

#we are the series #we are series #we are #watching bls: we are #let's talk bl #phumpeem #qtoey #tanfang #chainpun #thai bl

[piratecaptainscaptainpirates]

Hey, we're almost birthday twins. Yours is exactly 1 week before mine. (Mines 14th) Hope you at least have a better birthday than you usually have. 😊

For a prompt, could you maybe write something like...

After a lifetime of having to be on high-alert, always prepared incase something happens- like an attack, Ed finds it hard to let that go. During the day Ed and Stede work hard to fix up their new home but at night Ed still can't relax and sleep, like Stede easily can. He's alert and ready for battle every time he hears a noise. Eventually overworking himself and lack of sleep causes Ed to collapse with exhaustion, leaving poor Stede panicked, thinking he's dead. Later when Ed tells him what's wrong, Stede decides they're taking a few days off from fixing up their home, and having a little 'them' time and he lovingly pampers and takes care of Ed and shows him he can finally let himself relax, be happy and just be Ed. After the life he's had he deserves it.

Yes yes good! Get cherished Ed!!

“This,” Stede said firmly as he adjusted the cool cloth he’d placed over Ed’s eyes, “has to stop. Right fucking now.”

Ed kind of whimpered, which was really the only noise he could manage at the moment. It came out like a pathetic, weak little sound, and Stede sighed, bending to kiss Ed’s forehead, the frustration in his voice melting away.

“I’m not mad,” he promised. “You just scared me.”

Yeah. Ed could see that.

See, getting your happily ever after was awesome. It was just that Ed’s brain couldn’t keep up with the program.

He could not fucking calm down. Sometimes, Stede had to ban him from going out to sit on the porch because he got too caught up in looking out over the waves, scanning the horizon for anything that might be coming to take this peace away from them.

At night, he couldn’t fucking sleep. He curled up with Stede, safe and sound, but the stillness and the quiet were weird to begin with, and his brain just could not stop. Every little noise had him sitting up, his breath catching, the familiar fear in his throat. Sometimes he clenched his eyes shut tight, trying to focus on Stede’s snores, but it didn’t fucking help. Nothing helped.

Their house was coming along. Ed tried to keep himself working, well past the point where Stede asked him if he’d like a break, trying to wear his body out so he could fucking sleep.

Didn’t work, and his body ached with exhaustion as he lay awake in bed, his heart racing at every little sound, his brain screaming at him that this was too good to be true.

And, today, it had all caught up with him.

Stede had just called him in for lunch, and Ed had been on his way up the porch steps when he’d lurched. The next thing he knew, the steps were in his face, and his cheek was pressed against the boards, and his knee hurt. He’d fallen.

And he hadn’t been able to get back up.

Fuck, but he’d scared Stede to death, he thought. He’d never forget his scream when he stepped outside to see what the holdup was and he’d seen Ed laying there, face-down and motionless.

“I’m sorry,” Ed whispered, now, the cloth over his eyes at least stopping him from having to look Stede in the face. “I’m…I dunno what’s wrong with me.”

Stede kissed Ed’s forehead, squeezing his hand before lifting a glass of fruit juice to his lips. Ed drank gratefully, and it soothed his throat.

“Haven’t been sleeping well,” Ed admitted.

“And you work too hard,” Stede added on.

Ed inclined his head. “I can’t…I’m having trouble calming down. Relaxing.”

“I see,” Stede said, and Ed thought maybe he did.

He stayed in for the rest of the day. Stede waited on him, bringing him blankets and books and little finger sandwiches, and that night…

Ed wasn’t sure if it was the fall or what, but he slept through the whole night and a good chunk of the morning, too.

And Stede had been serious, that what was going on had to stop there, because when he finally dragged himself out of bed, Stede informed him that they were taking a few days off. For “them time.”

Ed wasn’t sure how he felt about that. He didn’t want to know what Ed time would look like. Crushing skulls with his biceps, maybe.

Ed time, as it turned out, mostly consisted of getting spoiled by a boyfriend who was all too happy to pamper him.

They spent a whole morning painting each other’s fingernails (Ed chose pink polish and Stede chose teal). They had a bubble fight in the bathtub. Ed taught Stede how to put his hair up in a fancy complicated updo his mama had taught him a long, long time ago. The next night, they dressed up in the fanciest clothes they had and went out for a nice dinner (at the fish shack, but Ed thought their clothes really classed up the whole experience).

It was soft. It was easy.

And Ed could just be…Ed. Just himself, as he wanted to be, with no pressure or expectations.

Tonight, they were doing a home fashion show, and Ed had run into the bathroom to grab his eyeliner when he caught sight of himself in the mirror and the size of his smile made him freeze in his tracks.

He’d looked so happy. So safe. Relaxed and content and fucking happy.

Ed looked at himself in the mirror for a long moment. This, the peace and the contentment…it looked pretty good on him.

Ed gave himself a wave in the mirror. “Hello, Ed,” he whispered, and he afforded himself a smile before he headed back out to his new life.

#ofmd fic #pccp's birthday fics

[iliveinprocrasti-nationn]

one thing abt being disabled/chronically ill that some people don’t get is that sometimes body maintenance that ensures you have the absolute minimum amount of function can also be something that takes away a lot of control and autonomy. you can argue till the cows come home that making those decisions to try and help yourself (or realistically to try to make sure things aren’t worse than they already are) is something that exhibits control and autonomy and stuff, but they can be so limiting in practice because they’re things that take up so much time but have to be done to do anything else

#i have to sleep a lot. i’m at the point where functioning requires 8 hours of sleep if not more #I should probably be getting 10+ but i’m a student and i work so 8 is the minimum. but then also getting ready for bed is a whole process s #the whole thing can take 10-12 hours depending how much im sleeping. just to make sure i can do anything #that is time in my day i cannot use for anything else. it’s not ‘oh but i can push through it’ because i can’t without spending the next da #lightheaded and nauseous and vaguely dizzy and with such intense brain fog I can’t think with my fatigue so bad i genuinely don’t know how #get myself to work a lot of days. my abled peers don’t have to deal with this at all. they have unlimited study time if they want to #and yeah it is a choice i’m making that’s true i could just not do. except i would lose my job and fail out of college because i would not #be able to get to classes or do my homework or think. but being told ‘but you are making choices about your life’ when i have lost so much #of what i used to be able to do because i am spiralling down and continuing to get worse is so. #literally last year i would wake up at 6:30 and then go to school till 3 and then go to my internship until 10 and get home at 11 and be in #bed anywhere from midnight to two in the morning and then wake up the next day and do it all again. i graduated with a 3.9 gpa and made it #into my top college while dealing with my cancer symptoms and then the two surgeries about it #but now i lose half my day to just making sure i can get out of bed. i can’t go anywhere because my body is physically too exhausted #any extra time goes into doing homework or occasionally time to myself #not decimating my health by doing minimum body care responsibilities isn’t freeing. occasionally i have a good day which is freeing but tha #usually goes into just. other things outside class or work or eating. I don’t go do something for myself or go do something fun on good day #because I still can’t. good days just mean i don’t want to lie down on the pavement when i’m going somewhere #I just. I don’t magically have control over my life because i try to get enough sleep. i lose half my day to doing that and ultimately it’s #just a bodily function that would have to happen anyway #this is a vent post im just having a really hard time right now because it feels like im in exponential decline. it was nowhere near this #bad last semester. my grades are tanking and i have no free time because anything outside of sleep is either work or school #vent tw #yall can rb this just ignore my tags completely #disability #chronically ill #i keep trying to explain to people how pots works because that’s all logical but there’s no way to explain what it’s doing to my body or ho #i feel all the time. the last time i felt this bad was when i had a bad flu or immediately after surgeries because i don’t react well to #anesthesia and always come out of them feeling like shit. and now i just feel like this all the time and it’s only getting worse #I can’t even stay up late anymore because my body feels like it isn’t counting the sleep even if I get 8 hours #I can deal if I have a free day the day after but that just leaves Friday and Saturday nights and I usually still have to do homework

[nexus-nebulae]

damn i actually had a pretty good streak there of not having bad insomnia days. that's pretty impressive for me like i haven't really had one since early January

#usually i get them like. maybe once a week #i think it's partially my new meds? #got some meds for anxiety and oh my GOD i finally have something that WORKS instead of fucking lexapro AGAIN #literally all my doctors would go LEXAPRO!! even though it's never fuckin worked for me #BUT I'm on remeron now and it's WORKING #and i made sure to make my Scheduled Pill Time as something i could almost never miss (my mom getting home from work) #bc it's around the same time every day within a half hour range and since i have an outside reminder it helps me actually form a habit #i cannot form habits without outside help it's just. nearly impossible for me #and the meds do make me kind of tired but not enough that I'm fucking constantly sleeping like when i was on seroquel #i can actually fucking THINK through this tired it doesn't just completely take me out 100% of the time #I'm just Slightly Sleepy instead of a zombie #and it helps remind me that I'm tired bc usually i don't notice any physical feelings #(is there a word for that??????? i tried googling but it constantly gave me alexythemia which is not feeling EMOTION) #(when this is like. i can't feel tired or hungry or pain sometimes. or at least i lose the ability to be aware that I'm feeling it) #but anyway the new meds make me just tired enough to remember i need sleep #and i mean. i am sleeping slightly early but 8:30 isn't that bad i don't think #at least i have time to. you know. do stuff between the hours of 5-8 (the only hours my mom is home + stores is open) #and tbh staying up alone all night isn't. the best. for my mental health #i don't handle being alone well. and Pulse is being a dick about system barriers :P (/lh we know why it's needed rn) #we have. a deep deep fear of isolation. like not just being alone but Not Being Able To Call For Help At All #at least with phone/computer we have One outlet for help with emergency services so that helps slightly #we worry a lot about. what would happen. if we had a medical emergency. and nobody knew bc i couldn't contact anyone #mostly. the fear of Something Bad happening and not being found until hours or days later #i like being awake during the day tho bc theres Way More Options for help #and like the fear of Not Being Found doesn't go away like. ever #but at least when people are awake and around its lessened a lot #the fear increases exponentially with each possible second added to the wait time #so knowing that it's just One hour until mom is home and can check on me is a lot better than Nobody's Awake For 5 More Hours #(and my mom is deaf too so i can't just like. scream for help to wake her up) #(not that i can physically scream at all anyway my voice just cannot handle that anymore)

[zombiemollusk]

it should be illegal for serotonin to be part of the digestive system

#if i accidentally miss even ONE (1) day of antidepressants and i take them again i get the nauseas #bleagh i hate this #i don't wanna stop taking zoloft because it otherwise works fine but if the nausea side effect keeps getting worse i might have to #yes i have tums and alka-seltzers to help #and also hard candies even though i don't like them #but it likes to be stubborn #disability #mental illness #zoloft #zombie talks #'well just take it at night then so you can sleep through it' i usually do but sometimes i fall asleep before i can #and if i do that two days in a row i just take it in the morning on the third day so i'm still taking it

[ohdeerfully]

alastor request HAI can it be based on the fact that alastor doesn't sleep, and it's his lover finding out that petting his ears during cuddling makes him fall asleep.

thank you for your service

yess i love sleepy alastor thank u so much anon :D!!

Goodmorning, Love

Alastor x Reader (fluff) TW: none! join my discord! ═══ ◈ ══════════ ◈ ══════════ ◈ ══════════ ◈ ═══

You were well aware of the Radio Demon’s sleep habits. Or, well, lack of sleep habits. You often spent nights in his room, where he would sit with you in bed until you fell asleep and go do whatever the hell he gets up to late at night. You always woke up in an empty room, and often so in the middle of the night, struggling to rest again as a greedy tightness gripped your chest in worry and disappointment.

You understood, though, and tried your best not to let it get to you that you didn’t have his warm body next to you when you woke every morning. But you couldn’t help that twinge of sadness. You weren’t particularly needy or clingy, but would it kill him to stay in bed with you for a single night? And to have a slice of domestic bliss as you woke up?

Obviously. 

You roll your eyes as you lay, staring up at the ceiling. You had just gotten ready for bed, and now waited for said demon to join you for a few hours. Your fingers tapped, impatient, against your chest as you hummed absentmindedly.

“How lovely,” You heard him speak. Tickles of that radio static that always followed him clung to your exposed skin, which was signal enough that he had entered the room had he not announced himself. “What a siren you are, luring me here with that hum of yours.”

You smiled slightly at his comment, scooching over slightly to encourage him over. He obliged, joining you under the covers. He still wore his usual outfit, which made sense considering his tendency to go away all night. You purse your lips at the thought, slightly chewing on the skin.

“Why the face?” Of course he noticed your expression. He always noticed when any emotion tickled your face. You appreciated the genuine tone in his voice, the typical buzz of radio barely detectable in his words. He always got a little softer and kinder when he was alone with you like this.

You appreciated nights with him, being able to see a side of him that nobody else would live to spread word of. You enjoyed feeling a little special, especially to somebody like him.

“Do you think you could stay in,” You asked cautiously, fiddling with your hands as you inched closer to him, pressing your body against his. Even laying, he still seemed much taller than you. You gingerly guided his head down, against your chest as you spoke, hoping the multitasking would keep him from sitting up and rejecting your intimate gestures. “Just for a night. I miss you all night long.”

He allowed his head to lay against you. He did feel tense, of course, letting the back of his head be exposed in this manner as he lay vulnerable on you. It was a strange feeling, but not one he cared to consider for too long. 

“(Y/N),” He began with a sigh. “It’s impossible for me to get much done during the day, what with all the running around Charlie does. Somebody has to keep an eye on that young princess. I prefer to stay awake to get my own errands done at night.” 

I know that, you wanted to say and interrupt his explanatory ramble. You wanted to beg him to understand, just this once. You held in a sigh, watching as his head gently rose and fell with every breath you took. Maybe you should just take this submission from him as good enough.

You gingerly began tangling your fingers through his red hair, brushing out any kinks he may have gotten throughout the day. His tense body seemed to ease slightly, becoming more and more relaxed as you weaved your fingers through the locks.

“You have really soft hair, Al,” You commented, changing the subject. You figured there was no use convincing him. You let your fingers lightly trail upwards, up to his ears. You grazed them slightly with a finger. You touched again. When he made no motion of dislike, you fully began rubbing them. Petting him. You smiled to yourself at the idea of petting the feared Radio Demon. “And your ears are even softer.”

“I try to take care of myself,” He responded proudly. There was another hint of something in his voice, but you couldn’t quite place what it was. But it seemed heavy. “A well groomed man is a successful one.” You absentmindedly agreed as you stroked the velvety fur of his ears, switching back and forth between them and his hair. You had a preference for the ears, though.

You sighed and began humming quietly again. He rarely got so… comfortable, even around you. He always had some sort of guard up, always had his shoulders squared. He almost never became so… loose and vulnerable.

You noticed the clippings of radio frequency had stopped, which was a noise that was ever present in his wake. You had a suspicion why it disappeared, a small grin forming on your face.

Yes, the Radio Demon never slept. But that was a choice he made, not a curse that prevented him. Even demons get tired. You don’t know how Alastor makes it day by day without a wink of rest, but it was apparent that exhaustion had built up in him. He just needed to relax for a second.

You graced your fingers over his fringe, and craned your neck in a way to get a glance at his face. Yeah, you were right. 

He laid there, eyes shut, features relaxed with the lightest grin playing on his face. Even in sleep, you complained. It didn’t really matter. What mattered was the sound of his deep, slow breathing and occasional twitch of his velvety ears. You briefly wondered what the Radio Demon would dream about.

Would he be aggravated with you when he woke up, realizing you had practically cast a sleep spell on him? You didn’t, but the rate of which exhaustion took over may as well have been some sort of magic.

You shut your own heavy eyes, exhaling lightly as you continued to comfort yourself with the texture of his fur and hair. It didn’t take long for you to fall asleep.

You craned your arms and neck as consciousness came back to you, but an unfamiliar weight kept you from getting that good stretch in. Momentarily confused, you blinked open and looked down.

Red and black hair, more of a mess than usual, still took place on your torso. This was a first, and your chest felt like exploding with the glee of seeing Alastor still resting with you. He somehow looked even more relaxed than the night before, his cheek flush against your stomach, squishing his lips up slightly. A light grin was still there.

You gently brushed your fingers over his face, trailing a line around his features with an index finger. His eyes squeezed for a moment, and that static ambience of his slowly, quietly, returned. It was a noise that you had learned to find comfort in. He slowly opened his red eyes, a confused and sleepy daze clouding them. There was a wrinkle in his brow as he roughly propped himself up with an elbow, looking up at you with a furrowed expression.

“(Y/N)..?” He trailed, pausing to take in a shuddering morning yawn through a confused smirk. “Did I… Dear, what time is it?”

You looked at him tenderly. Oh, how cute he was, sleepy like this. Composed like an exhausted kid. Something even you have never seen before.

“Yeah,” You responded to his unspoken question. “It’s probably seven a.m. or so. I dunno.” There wasn’t a clock in your immediate line of sight.” “A.m. …” He said slowly. He sat up fully, looking down in disappointment at his wrinkled day wear. He quickly blinked the sleep from his eyes and managed to bring some composure to himself, but that lick of exhaustion was still prominent. Especially under his eyes.

“Yeah,” You said again, a light chuckle following. “Goodmorning, Al.”

He wasn’t obviously upset, it seemed. Though he probably was too tired to think about it too much yet. Maybe later.

“Well… Goodmorning, love.” He responded, still with a hint of confusion in his voice. “I suppose I accepted your plea from last night.” He brushed at his clothes while he spoke, trying to flatten out the creases that were brought on through a night of rest.

“Maybe more often?” You asked, twiddling your thumbs in anticipation. You already knew the answer, but it was okay. You knew how to keep him in now. You mischievously smirked as he closed his eyes and shook his head.

“Unlikely.”

#alastor #alastor x reader #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #ohdeerfully #alastor is eepy #fluff

[daytaker]

The Gang React to You Falling Asleep on Them

Lucifer

*deep sigh that speaks volumes to how difficult it is for this man to get any sleep, and here you are, conked out on his shoulder...*

If you don't wake up within a few minutes, he'll have no choice but to move. He is not the sort to be so sentimental that he can't bear the thought of disturbing your precious sleeping face. Of course, he won't be an asshole about it; he'll be careful and try not to wake you up. He might even drape his jacket over you for your nap.

But only if he doesn't need it.

Mammon

"Hey, my arm's gettin' a little stiff, can I just-- ...ah."

Oh. Ah. Alright. Cool. This is happening. Hmm. Damn. Not super comfortable, and it's kinda inconvenient to be trapped here, but, pshh, what's he supposed to do, wake up a sleeping human? He's heard that can lead to...cardiac arrest, or something. He ain't gonna murder you just to move a little sooner.

You did not just start snuggling him in your sleep. Did Mammon score today or did he score today? Too bad his arm's starting to fall asleep, but, well, nothin' in life is free.

Leviathan

"What...? WHAAAAAAT?" (But only in his brain. He doesn't want to wake you up. Mammon says that can lead to cardiac arrest in humans.)

He's pretty sure he's the one who's going to keel over from heart problems at this rate. He hadn't even realized you were getting sleepy. Are you bored watching him tackle this single-player old school RPG? Did you hate it all this time and you never even mentioned it?! Why is your face so close?! Do you not have any idea the kind of mental torture you're putting him through right now?!

Deep breaths, Levi. Deep breaths. This happens in anime all the time. It's...usually a good thing! It means that the main character and their love interest are tripping all the right flags, and... and how long is this scene going to last? Those scenes almost always end with the two still on the couch, then they skip to the next day or something. How long is he going to have to just sit here... suffering...?

After about ten minutes, he's reached his limit and he gently shakes you awake. He is so embarrassed that he insists you go to bed now, and he will not take no for an answer. Good night. Goodbye. *door slams*

AAAAHHHHHHHHH.

Satan

"Hm? Have you been getting enough sleep...?"

Satan would be very pleased with the situation, though probably less intensely excited than Mammon. He'll make whatever small adjustment is necessary for his comfort, then settle in and read for as long as it takes you to wake up. He feels very warm and fuzzy. It's nice. Hopefully you do this more often. But he should really ask you about your sleep schedule. Levi must be forcing you to stay awake too often.

Asmodeus

"Aww, aren't you adorable?"

This is precious. He needs to document it. As soon as he realizes what's happening, he'll carefully pull out his D.D.D., making sure not to wake you up, and start snapping pics. A few of you, a few dozen selfies with you, a few with him pretending to be asleep too, and then a perfect shot of him kissing your forehead. Grammable as fuck.

Er... is that drool he can see in one of those photos? ...You're going to have to wake up. You can't just drool on his brand-name jacket.

Beelzebub

"Oh."

He's used to people falling asleep on him, so this doesn't really throw him for much of a loop. However, he's a bit more careful of waking you up. He knows that if he wakes Belphie, he'll just fall back asleep within a few seconds, but you're not quite so adaptable. So he'll do his best to stay quiet and not move much.

But no matter how hard he tries, he's never going to be able to turn off his stomach. You'll probably wake up with a start as his stomach roars at you about twenty inches from your face.

Belphegor

"...zzzz..."

Who are we kidding, we all know he was asleep first. Probably, he's the reason you fell asleep so easily. He's soft and warm, perfect for drifting off to dreamland...

Diavolo

"Very bold! You really are astonishingly brave."

It's not every day someone has the stones to fall asleep in his presence, let alone fall asleep and use him as some sort of glorified pillow. What a nice change of pace.

He'll continue doing whatever it is he was doing before, but he is a busy demon, running the Devildom and all. He'll slowly and carefully extricate himself when it's time to move, then have Barbatos bring you a blanket and prepare some tea for when you wake up.

Barbatos

"Humans are awfully needy creatures, aren't they."

He can't help but chuckle. You just pass out during the middle of the day? Then again, it's possible you're probably not entirely well. He'll have to disturb the young master to ask what sort of accommodations to make for you. Of course, he's sure Diavolo won't mind. But it's irresponsible to let yourself drift off like this in the castle of the king of the demons, isn't it? This isn't a resort.

Sleep well, human.

Solomon

"You're just looking cute on purpose now, aren't you?"

Oh well! Looks like he's stuck here for now. Too bad. He'll smile, put an arm around you, kick his feet up, and settle in for the long haul. Hopefully you're able to get a good, solid nap in.

Most likely, you both will. He'll pass out too within ten minutes, give or take.

Simeon

"Oh- shh. There, there."

Well, if you aren't adorable... You must be so tired. He's glad you feel so at ease with him that you let yourself fall asleep, and you certainly look cute, but he's also a little concerned that you're this tired. He'll patiently wait for you to wake up. Then he'll make you some tea and gently remind you to take better care of your health.

Luke

"Eh...?! Hey! ...WAKE UP!"

How tired are you?! You need to get better sleep! Sheesh, you need to be more careful too. You almost crushed him.

#obey me #obey me headcanons #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me mc #obey me ensemble #obey me leviathan #obey me levi #obey me satan #obey me asmo #obey me asmodeus #obey me beel #obey me beelzebub #obey me x reader #obey me belphegor #obey me belphie #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me solomon #obey me simeon #obey me luke #text post #the om gang react #the gang react #gang react #tgr #dthc

[inkskinned]

it is the first snow today. i think we should all have off work, even though it didn't stick. i think there should be 4 national holidays, one for each season. happy first snow, go home and make cookies. for spring it can be the first crocus. for summer the first lightning bug. for autumn, the first golden leaf. go home, kiss your dog, feed your cat (who is absolutely already-fed but somehow still starving.)

i think we should all take more showers together, but i mean that in the soft way. i mean it like taking a nap. two years ago i had 5 adult friends in my queen bed, all of us laying across each other, head over belly over thigh over hand. any time one of us would giggle, it would ripple over each of us, like pulling on a spiderweb. kim actually needed to nap and didn't get to sleep and i am still sorry for it even though this is one of my most precious memories.

i think we should all wash each other's hair, i mean. i walk my dog and i watch someone put up twinkle lights around their front porch. alex and i just moved, and i love the neighborhood. already so many of our new neighbors have stopped by to say hello. the nice lady downstairs also collects plants, like me. she gave us her number on a pink post-it note. i am trying to decide whether to make her cookies or brownies.

i am going through a very hard time. something bad happened this weekend that i do not wish to discuss. it is hanging over me. i think of the green ribbon, and the woman who had her throat cut. it feels like that sometimes, inside of my body. like i am walking and talking despite being half-corpsed. like i am hanging on by a ribbon, standing on some kind of cusp. i keep saying - at least it wasn't worse. we are so lucky it wasn't worse. the idea is river-rock smooth now, all the edges worried off.

in this very dark night - the sun sets by 3 now - people don't need to, but they try anyway. they paint the missing light into things. i have an embarrassing number of missed calls and texts, but i feel the love from them nevertheless - hey. if you need something, i'm here. i will bring you food/puzzles/anything. i got you.

i think we should all have a big group chat where we do errands with strangers. this week i got lost in a home depot, which is wild because i'm a lesbian and we are actually hatched in a lowe's lumber section. there were two other women in the whole store. we ended up shopping together, at first by accident (we all needed things in the same aisle), and then because, well, why not. one of the ladies was taller than me, so she pulled down the screws i needed. i am agile and have the personality of a raccoon, so they sent me after anything below 3 feet. we talked about holiday plans and never learned each other's names, but did learn all the drama about each other's families.

i am making you cupcakes, because i have so much affection i want to pour it into batter. you ask me if i am eating enough per meal. i wrap your gift twice, trying to do it prettily. i get excited to give it to you, just because i hope you'll be excited too.

my parents drive an hour just to see the new apartment and to do the parent thing; standing in the kitchen saying things like "oh you'll get so much use from this dishwasher" and "well, you could paint that" and "when your mother and i moved it was uphill both ways and in a snowstorm and of course your brother was an infant." my mother brought me a plant for housewarming. i always say i love you before she leaves.

i play dnd on tuesdays still, after all these years. we all keep that night free. at one point, between grad school and marriage and all of it, we had to have a serious discussion about how to keep it running. we will keep going, we decided eventually. just to see each other, even if we don't play - you are all important to me. sebastian is not prone to affection but last night he stole my usual sign off - i love you all, be good, he said. he was laughing.

i don't love the winter, actually. i like snow in theory, but i grew up in the north, and am too-familiar with the season of "mud and sludge". i don't like being cold. but i do love something kind of soft and rare: every year around this time, people remember oh yes. you and i are human together. and i have love to spare.

it is the first snow, and something in my heart is finally warm again. i have spent what felt like the last 18 months just going-through-the-motions. it has felt blank and immediate, like i would never actually feel again. that sounds extremely trite and stupid - but that is the boring and familiar experience of depression. life just washes up against your windows, and you watch it happening. you see things that should be lovely and affecting, and it just whispers too-thin. i was desperately uncreative. uninterested in my hobbies. unimpressed by my writing. i told my therapist, often, i don't know how to find hope again.

almost sheepishly, something strange and lovely is burning in my chest. i keep not-looking at it, worried it will scamper back into the shadows again. it is skittish and wild, but it is so warm i want to sink my hands into its fur and feel it breathing. i love-hate it: if it's real, it can hurt me when it leaves again. but i am icarus-born, sun-lover and poet: i can't help myself. despite my best intentions, i am falling in love with life again.

i am planning to make cookies for my friends. alex and i are going to go christmas tree shopping. we picked out matching dish towels last night, and they have little mushrooms on them.

i love you. it does come back. yes, even after a long time. even for you. i promise. keep trying. you will wake up and it will be a day you can smile about.

write me when you get there. we will take the day off of work, and i will wash your hair, and we will both be laughing.

#spilled ink #writeblr #pos #recovery #my brain is like - don't trust it!!!!!!! AHHHHHHH!!!!! we can't be wrong again!!!!!! #and im like. what if the sorrow is the thing that's wrong though. #what if this - this!!!!! - is the truth

[tender-rosiey]

hiii 😭 I REALLY LOVE UR GOJO X YN SO MUCHHH 😔😔 I was also wondering like maybe what if y/n has a wound, like any where 🥲 it could be either on her back, arms, legs but she doesn't wanna tell gojo abt it and she hides it, then he will find out about it either she winces when gojo hugs her, starts wearing long sleeved clothes or her shirt lifts up while sleeping 🤧 TYSMM❤❤

strain — gojo satoru x f!reader

a/n: I am honored that you like my works, love! hope you enjoy this as well 🫶💕🫶 also happy birthday to the man, the myth, the legend: gojo satoru!! (it’s still his birthday in my country so hush I am not late)

you are more than a capable sorcerer. in fact, you are one of the strongest in the field.

however, like anyone else, there are some moments where things get a little out of hand, and you come back bearing a rather long slash on your left arm.

but since it’s pretty late, you decided you will bother shoko about it in the morning. that is how you’re finally in your home, with satoru nowhere to be found.

you frown lightly at the fact that he is still out there fighting curses, but a part of you feels relieved that you don’t have to explain your situation right now.

the night should pass by smoothly, and you will go to shoko tomorrow: a fool-proof plan!

so you do what you can to sanitize the wound, and cover it until you can get it treated properly. you also take the chance to indulge in your favorite snack as a good job treat.

after finishing your food and tidying up for the day, you’re finally in bed, all-cozied up and avoiding anything touching your wound as much as possible.

a deep breathe in, a deep breathe out, and you slowly drift to sleep.

not much time passes before satoru’s familiar footsteps echo throughout the house.

your husband has an abundance of energy.

but it seemed like today’s missions have drained him a bit more than normal, so he skips eating anything and heads straight to your shared bedroom.

his heart softens, and his muscles relax upon the sight of you tucked in bed. he walks to press a small kiss on your forehead, quickly changing into his pajamas and settling right by your side.

he stretches a bit and turns to spoon you as per usual, eyes closing in contentment.

but you wince, even if adeptly, and it sends alarms ringing through his head.

he jerks up, and his hand is instantly placed on your arm again, softly. there is an ever so faint change in your expression as your eyebrows furrow, and he has never pulled his hand away so fast.

he keeps debating in his head whether to wake you up or not, but he swiftly settles for the former.

he needs to know what happened. so he, regrettably, nudges your sleepy form, “y/n?”

you groan, but, nonetheless, you reply, “…what?”

while satoru often likes to base theatrics around his every move and phrase, but he also knows when to get straight to the point, “did you get hurt on today’s mission?”

you’re no longer half-asleep, and you quickly sit up, eyeing your husband. knowing there is no escape nor denial, you fidget with your fingers and nod slowly.

then you hurriedly utter, “but I was going to see shoko first thing in the morning; I promise!”

he nods slowly, holding your hands in his own. you’re left to look him in the eyes. satoru’s eyes being exposed makes him feel so vulnerable, or at least that’s how he is with you.

you can see every wrinkle, and every crease; you can see what he is thinking about in real time. he has long given up hiding anything from you, and, besides, it feels fresh to just let go.

but right now, as you look into his eyes, you see them swarming with confliction, pain, and worry.

he doesn’t scold you about not going right now because he knows that you will tell him that you either thought it wasn’t a big deal or that you didn’t want to bother shoko with it.

instead, he settles on a hushed whisper of “can I see it?”

you throw him a confused look, “why? I am getting it treated tomorrow anyway,” then you smile, “it’s not going to permanent if that’s what you’re worried about.”

he shakes his head, “it’s not that; I just—“ he takes a deep breath then looks at you pleadingly, “just let me see it.”

perhaps it’s to silence his thoughts and to show him that you’re truly okay, as okay as you can be.

you’re still alive, and that’s what matters, he thinks. nevertheless, he feels the need to see just how serious is the wound anyway.

reluctantly, you slowly take off your jacket to reveal the poorly bandaged gash on your arm.

he looks up at you, asking for permission because even if he needs to see it for his own selfish reasons, he has to put you above anything and everything else.

you nod, giving the free reign to slowly take off the bandages. you can barely hold back any pained noises, but you can’t help the wincing of your body.

satoru’s frown deepens, and with every move, your husband’s heart aches. it goes like that until the wound is finally unveiled.

you feel satoru observing the cut so intently that you look away. satoru curses everything that he can think of, and never has we wanted the ability to heal others more than right now.

he straightens his back, “that’s a deep cut, y’know.”

“I know…”

“you also realize that the wound could’ve hit your chest and inevitably heart, right?”

you huff, “listen, if you’re going to give me a lecture or keep making me feel bad about it then I will have you know—“

“you could’ve died.”

you notice the strain in his voice, so you turn to finally look eyes with him. he looks pained, so hurt, maybe even terrified at the fact that there was a chance that he could’ve lost you.

your expression immediately becomes that of sympathy, “but I didn’t, and dwelling on the fact that I might’ve died will only bother you for no reason,” you hold his hand, “I am here and alive, aren’t I?”

your husband sighs, resting his head on your right shoulder, “you’re hurting my poor little heart whenever you put yourself in danger like that.”

a giggle escapes your lips, and your hands naturally find their way in his hair, fingers gently carding through, “whatever shall we do.”

“if things went my way then you would just stay home looking all pretty like you always do,” he states, and you roll your eyes.

“well, they’re going my way tonight, so—“ the clock strikes twelve, “happy birthday, silly boy.”

his eyes widen and he pulls away to look you in the face. he blinks dumbly then looks at what’s in your hands: a cupcake with a candle.

a wide grin of unbridled joy appears on your husband’s face. his eyes shimmer in the moonlight as he laughs, “I really didn’t expect it this time!”

“you outdid yourself, pretty girl,” he hums, hand caressing your cheek.

“I still have a lot more things for you,” you beam with pride. satoru can’t contain himself anymore, and he pulls you into a loving embrace.

“I love you so much,” he murmurs beside your ear, pressing a light kiss to the side of your neck.

you pat his back, “I love you too, ‘toru,” you laugh, “but you’re pressing on my wound, and I think I am just going to cry and not because of overwhelming love.”

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copyright © tender-rosiey

do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported

#jjk x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x you #gojo imagine #gojo x reader #jjk imagines #gojou satoru x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo x y/n #jjk gojo x reader #jjk gojo x y/n #jjk gojo x you #gojo fluff #satoru x reader #satoru x you #satoru x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you

[slu7formen]

MDNI. luke x fem!reader

you and Luke end up stuck in the same motel room on a mission, but as he tries his best to stay as far away from you as possible, he ends up with you sitting on his lap and moaning his name.

warnings: enemies to lovers (?, reader’s godly parent is not mentioned, CLASSIC share-the-same-bed prompt, cussing, clothed s3x, pet names, teasing, kinda virgin!luke, dom!luke for a sec, luke sees reader in her underwear

reminder: english’s not my first language so I apologize for any spelling mistakes

₊˚⊹♡

The groan of the rusty –stolen– car door echoed in the woods like a death knell. You slammed it shut with a wince, the throbbing ache in your shoulder protesting the movement as you placed your bag on it. The vehicle now lay crumpled against a giant redwood, a testament to the gigantic beast you'd just barely managed to outrun before Percy took take of it with Anaklusmos.

And him, ever the optimist, managed a weak attempt at sarcasm. "Well, that went great, don´t you think?" he muttered to you, his voice laced with exhaustion. A fresh cut adorned his cheek, a reminder of his near-death experience, from their recent encounter.

Luke, face dirty and torso sweaty, slammed the trunk shut with a finality that mirrored the exhaustion etched on his face. Dirt smudged his usually perfect features, and sweat plastered his black hair to his forehead, a sight that would have sent shivers down the spine of any other girl at camp. On you, however, it just fueled the simmering fire inside you that made you want to punch his face.

He slung his worn backpack over one shoulder, the weight of responsibility and fatigue pulling him down.

"Remind me not to let you drive again. Ever." he said to you, his voice laced with a mocking lilt.

You rolled your eyes, the familiar irritation sparking within you. "Oh, give me a break" you spat back, hands on your hips. "I'm the only one with a license here, genius."

"Is your license useful when it comes to a stolen car, genius?" he replied, voice lowering to match his mockery and a punchable smirk playing on his lips. He really knew how to push your buttons, even when you were both staring down the barrel of another night on the run, another night without a decent meal or a good night's sleep.

"At least I can drive" you countered, ignoring the prickle of annoyance that ran down your spine. "Besides, who else would have gotten us this far? You?" You gestured towards the flickering neon sign of a ramshackle motel in the distance, a beacon of hope in the gathering darkness.

"Enough" Annabeth said, her voice firm despite the tiredness in her tone. "You two can fight later, but right now, we need to find somewhere to stay. I am not spending another night sleeping on a tree"

With a determined stomp, she marched towards the side of the road. You and Luke both took a step forward at the same time, then stopped, locked in a silent battle of who would yield. You mockingly straightened your arm towards Annabeth's path. "Ladies first" you said to him.

He squinted his eyes playfully as he walked past you. “Very mature” he muttered.

The flickering neon sign cut through the twilight like a neon lifeline as you walked. ‘The Sun n' Sands Motel’ proclaimed in faded glory, the letters crooked and the sun sporting a single, sad-looking ray. It wasn't the exactly luxury, but after days on the run, a crumpled car, and a near-death encounter with a creature straight out of your worst nightmares, this place looked like a five-star resort.

"Finally" you sighed, relief washing over you in waves. You could practically smell the promise of clean sheets and a bed that didn't groan ominously with every movement. And a shower. Gods, you craved that.

Pushing open the glass door, you were greeted with a musty scent that hung in the air like a forgotten memory. The lobby was small and poorly decorated, the faded floral wallpaper clashing horrendously with the worn brown carpeting. Behind a chipped counter sat a woman whose age defied easy categorization. Her hair, the color of tarnished silver, was pulled back in a tight bun, emphasizing the deep lines etched around her eyes. She sat engrossed in a beauty magazine, oblivious to the four weary demigods who had just entered.

With a sigh that condensed the exhaustion of your entire journey, you approached the counter. Slamming a wad of crumpled bills onto the counter, you declared, "Rooms for four, please."

Percy shuffled behind you, his eyes flitting around the room with a mix of curiosity and apprehension. Annabeth scanned the lobby for any signs of potential danger, her hand instinctively resting on the hilt of her dagger.

The woman finally looked up, her gaze lingering on you for too long before flickering to the rest of your group. A slow smile played on her lips, a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "One room, two beds?" she drawled, her voice thick with a southern twang that seemed to grate on your already frayed nerves.

"Two rooms" you corrected, forcing a smile that felt more like a grimace. Sharing a room with Luke Castellan, a roof, again, even in this desolate outpost, was an idea so abhorrent you couldn't entertain it for a second.

As if sensing your objection, the woman tapped away at a dusty computer terminal. A smirk played on her lips. "Couple's getaway, huh?" she asked, her eyes darting from Luke, back to you.

Percy and Annabeth exchanged a surprised and disgusted look. "What?" you demanded, your irritation bubbling over.

But before you could react, you felt Luke´s heavy arm slunging casually around your shoulder, his voice dripping with mock sincerity. "Looks like we're gonna have to get a little bit cozy, don't you think, baby?" he drawled playfully.

You gritted your teeth, biting down on the inside of your cheek to keep from exploding. You knew perfectly well he was just trying to get under your skin, and the worst part was, it was working. The thought of sharing a room with him was bad enough, but the idea of him calling you "baby" sent shivers down your spine – not of pleasure, but of pure, unadulterated annoyance.

Faking a sickly sweet smile, you leaned in and delivered a sharp elbow jab directly to his stomach. He doubled over with a groan, clutching his center for a moment. "Call me 'baby' again," you hissed, your voice low and dangerous, "and I'll punch way lower than that."

“Got it, muscles” he wheezed.

The receptionist, clearly enjoying the spectacle, leaned back in her chair and tapped away at the computer again. "Right now, we have one room with a double bed, and another one with two single beds" she explained.

You glanced back at Annabeth, a silent question hanging in the air. She nodded in understanding. Two single beds might not be ideal, but it was infinitely preferable to sharing a room with Luke.

"We'll take them" you declared.

The woman expertly counted the money, her lips pursed in concentration. "Rooms thirteen and fifteen." she announced, handing you two keys. "No smoking inside, and do not break anything, or you'll be charged double" the lady continued, her voice laced with a warning that was clearly aimed at you and Luke.

As you all four walked towards the stairs, you tossed the key to room fifteen at Luke. He snatched it reflexively in the air, a hint of confussion in his face. “Boys, you´ll share a room” you declare.

Luke scoffed behind your back. "What are we? Eleven?" he asked.

"It was a nightmare to drive a car with you in it" you retorted, "can't imagine what it would be like to share a room."

Later, after some questionable inspectioning around the room and re-organizing your bag for when you leave tomorrow morning, you finally had a little time to yourself.

The cool water splashed against your face, washing away the grime and exhaustion of the day. You glanced over at Annabeth, who was meticulously placing her most important things on the floor to clean and organize her bag; her dagger, her cap, a rope, a squished water bottle, and a few maps. Despite the cramped confines of the motel room, a sense of peace settled over you. Even with Luke's irritating presence hanging over your head, it was a welcome change from the constant fear and adrenaline that had fueled your journey.

A sharp rapping on the door snapped you out of your reverie. "Coming!" Annabeth called out. She opened the door just a crack as you peeked your head out of the tiny bathroom door. You were greeted by the sight of a very smug-looking Percy. His cheeks were puffed out, and he was clutching a brown paper bag that seemed precariously close to bursting.

"Uh, hey" he mumbled, his voice muffled through a mouthful of something chocolatey. "I raided the vending machine downstairs” he simply explained.

Annabeth turned towards you. “Dinner?” she asked.

The offer of a snack, however meager, was enough to send your stomach grumbling in protest. The idea of a proper meal sounded heavinly, the food from camp, the meat, the mashed potatoes. Gods, you really wanted to be back. But right now, even the greasiest bag of chips could be enough for you.

Percy shoved his way past Annabeth and into the room. He disgorged his loot onto the small bedside table that sat between your beds. Annabeth, with her usual organizational skills, started to create a semblance of order from the chaotic pile of snacks.

Across the room, you noticed Luke still leaning against the doorway. He had shed his usual polished exterior for a pair of worn sweatpants and a plain t-shirt, a sight that momentarily threw you off balance. He took you in with a lazy glance, his eyes lingering on your tired face and messy hair. "Looking good" he called, a smirk playing on his lips.

One of your eyes twitched in irritation. Grabbing the wet towel you'd been using, you flung it at him with a growl. He managed to snag it out of the air just before it connected with his face.

"Hilarious" he remarked.

Annabeth jumped in before the playful hostility could escalate further. "How about a movie?" she suggested, her voice laced with a hint of forced cheer.

The idea wasn't exactly appealing, but the prospect of some semblance of downtime outweighed the absurdity of watching television in a dingy motel room. You and Luke exchanged a glance, a silent agreement passing between you. You didn't know how much peace you could get in the middle of a mission, or for how long, but the idea of just sitting down and eating calmly while watching a movie was undeniably tempting. Even with the dubious snacks and the cramped quarters, it felt like a small oasis in the storm of your current situation.

The movie selection on the ancient TV was limited, to say the least. After a series of disgruntled grumbles and channel surfing, they settled on a cheesy romance movie with a plot that could have been predicted by a hyperactive squirrel. The acting was atrocious, the dialogue predictable, and the special effects looked like they were created by a bored teenager with basic editing software. Yet, despite the movie's inherent ridiculousness, a strange sense of camaraderie filled the room. Laughter, albeit tinged with exhaustion, erupted at the predictable plot twists and overly dramatic dialogue.

As the minutes ticked by, Percy and Annabeth succumbed to the fatigue of the day. Annabeth curled up by your side on her bed, but her eyelids eventually fluttered shut and her head lolled back against your shoulder. Percy managed to stay up for a little longer with Luke, but his snorting could easily be heard just ten minutes after.

Silence stretched between you and Luke, punctuated only by the rhythmic snores of Percy and the occasional sigh from Annabeth in her sleep. You glanced over at your friend, her head resting peacefully against your shoulder. Despite the discomfort of the shared bed and the dubious snacks, a sliver of normalcy felt oddly comforting.

Across from you, Luke mirrored your posture, leaning back against the headboard with his arms crossed. His gaze was fixed on the flickering television screen, but you knew his attention wasn't on the atrocious movie. He was lost in thought, a furrow etched between his brows.

There was tension in the air, a constant undercurrent simmering between you two. You didn't like each other, that much was certain. He was arrogant, self-serving, and his loyalty always seemed to have a price tag attached. Yet, a grudging respect had grown between you over the years. You both understood the weight of your responsibilities, the burden of protecting those younger, more innocent.

He cleared his throat, the sound sharp in the quiet room. "Hey, Per—" he began, his voice a low murmur.

“Hey” you called. Luke´s head snapped towards your direction. "He's been out for more than half an hour" you interjected softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "Don't wake him up."

Luke's head tilted to the side. Confusion flickered across his brown eyes before settling on a scowl. "What?" he hissed, barely louder than a whisper.

"Think about it" you countered, your voice a low murmur that wouldn't disturb the sleeping teens. "Percy's been snoring like a miniature thunderstorm for at least ten minutes. Annabeth wouldn't wake up even if a centaur stepped next to her right now. Waking them up would just cause a monster of a different kind."

You knew Luke understood. You weren't just talking about Percy's physical exhaustion. You were both keenly aware of the burden these young demigods carried. They craved normalcy as much as anyone, and these stolen moments of peaceful sleep, however fleeting, were a precious commodity. Watching them, so vulnerable and carefree in their slumber, filled you with a fierce protectiveness. The last thing you wanted to do was disrupt that.

Luke didn't reply, but his gaze mirrored your sentiments. A flicker of something akin to respect softened the harsh lines of his face. You weren't friends, not by any stretch of the imagination. He mean. Yet, you shared a common enemy and a common purpose – to protect those who couldn't protect themselves.

The silence stretched for a momento before he cleared his throat again, the sound sharp in the cramped room. "So," he drawled, his voice laced with a hint of resignation, "what do we do then?"

You sighed, frustration creeping into your voice. "Guess we're stuck sharing a room after all" you muttered, throwing your hands up in defeat. The idea was far from appealing.

Luke's face contorted in horror. He let out a theatrical whine that would rival any crying toddler. "Oh come on" he whined, stretching the word into several syllables. "Sharing a room with you? Talk about cruelty and punishment."

“Oh, just shut up” you whispered-yelled at him. “Trust me, I don´t wanna sleep next to you either. I´ll build up a wall of pillows before you can even start snoring”

There was a certain absurdity to the situation, being forced to share a room with your least favorite person. But beneath the surface, you both acknowledged the unspoken truth – the safety and well-being of Percy and Annabeth took precedence over any personal discomfort.

You both rose from your beds, a tense air crackling around you. Picking up your backpack, you hoisted it over your shoulder with a sigh. "Alright" you declared, marching towards the door. "Let's get this over with."

Luke followed, his movements mirroring yours. The walk down the cramped hallway was filled with an tension. Neither of you dared to speak. Reaching his door, Luke fumbled for the key, his irritation evident in his clumsiness. Finally, with a click, the door swung open, revealing a room identical to yours – basic, cramped, and thoroughly unappealing.

Stepping inside, you couldn't help but let out a groan. A single, double bed dominated the room, leaving absolutely no room for separate sleeping arrangements. God, why did Percy have to fall asleep? Why didn´t you and Annabeth pick this room earlier? Everything was going the wrong way for you. You exchanged a look with Luke, the message clear in your burning eyes.

"Snort or drool" Luke began, his voice a low growl as he pointed a finger at you "and I swear I'll throw you out the window"

"Hm, how charming" you replied sarcastically, stepping past him and into the room.

The bed loomed before you, a battleground for an uncomfortable night's sleep. With a sigh, you dropped your backpack onto the nearest chair. Luke began building a formidable fortress of pillows in the center of the bed. You rolled your eyes at the sight. This was so ridiculous.

A glance at your watch confirmed your suspicions. It was not too late to hop on quick shower. Percy and Luke walked down to the vending machine so quickly earlier that you didn´t even have time to wash yourself before they came to your room with the so called dinner. Your clothes clung to you uncomfortably, the grime of the day begging to be washed away. You looked for a clean shirt you were sure you packed before leaving camp days ago. The possibilites of a shower were low in missions like these, but you never knew.

Leaving your backpack open on the chair, you made your way to the bathroom door, silently pushing it open. Luke watched your movements for a fleeting moment, but quickly went back to his pillow fortification once your figure disappeared inside the small bathroom. He didn't think much of it at first. You were just getting ready for the night, whatever your methods.

Inside the bathroom, you began stripping off your clothes, the cool air a welcome sensation against your heated skin. In your state of exhaustion, you neglected to fully close the bathroom door. A foolish mistake, perhaps, but in your defense, the room was tiny and the it wouldn't be winning any awards for spaciousness. Right now, all you craved was a chance to scrub away the road dust and find a clean shirt for the —uncomfortable— night ahead.

A few seconds later, a muffled curse broke the silence on Luke´s side. Luke, realizing he'd left his toothbrush in the bathroom, stopped himself from the pillows task and approached the bathroom door. He was expecting it to be shut. A polite knock, a request for his forgotten toothbrush – that was the plan. But as he drew closer, his steps faltered. The door wasn't shut.

“Seriously!?”

There you stood, completely devoid of clothes except for your underwear, taking off your camp´s necklace and your earrings. The warm glow from the bathroom light accentuated the smooth lines of your shoulders and the curve of your back. Time seemed to freeze for a beat. Luke's breath hitched in his throat.

You whirled around, startled. A small laugh escaped your lips as you saw Luke's flustered expression. His cheeks were flushed a deep crimson, and his brown eyes darted around the room as if searching for an escape route.

"Didn't think you'd be so shy, Luke" It was a playful jab, a way to lighten the sudden tension that had filled the small space.

Luke sputtered, his voice barely even a regular tone. "Shy? I'm not-, I mean-…” he kept cutting himself off. “This-, don´t you know what privacy is!?"

His indignation was adorable, you couldn't help but think to yourself. You'd never seen him so flustered, so utterly out of sorts. A mischievous glint sparked in your eyes.

"Oh, come on" you countered, a playful smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "Don't tell me you've never seen a girl in this state before."

The question just didn´t have an asnwer. Luke's mouth clamped shut. His eyes widened for a moment, then darted back down to the floor, avoiding your gaze. There was a flicker of something in his eyes – a memory, perhaps, or a realization – but it vanished as quickly as it appeared.

The silence stretched, thick and awkward. You realized you had hit a nerve, a part of Luke you hadn't expected to expose, not in front of you. A pang of unexpected curiosity pricked at your insides. Just what kind of experiences had this arrogant, self-assured perfect golden boy had?

You opened your mouth to speak, to maybe apologize for your teasing, but Luke beat you to it.

"Just shower and get dressed, okay?" he mumbled, his voice tight with suppressed frustration. "I want to sleep."

He didn't wait for a reply, simply turning on his heel and retreating back to his pillow fort. You watched him go, a smile playing on your lips. The encounter had been unexpected, to say the least, but it had definitely shaken things up.

A low chuckle escaped your lips. "You'll wait for me?" you called out playfully, knowing full well he wouldn't answer.

"Shut up!" came his muffled reply from behind the pillows.

The silence in the cramped room was thick enough to spread. You emerged from the bathroom, a clean shirt clinging to your damp form and a towel wrapped around your head like a makeshift turban. You caught sight of Luke burrowed deep beneath the barricade of pillows, a picture of forced nonchalance. His eyes were resolutely fixed on the ceiling, but you could practically feel the heat radiating off him.

A mischievous glint flickered in your eyes. He might have gotten away with a verbal escape route earlier, but you weren't done yet. "Well, aren't you going to say something?" you queried, amusement dancing in your voice. "Speechless, Castellan? That's a first."

Luke remained stubbornly silent, his jaw clenched tight. He could feel the blush creeping back up his neck, a burning reminder of his moment of weakness. How was he supposed to act normal after seeing...well, after seeing more of you than he ever bargained for? The image of your smooth skin and the graceful curve of your back was burned into his memory, a stark contrast to the sarcastic warrior he knew.

You flopped down onto the bed, the makeshift wall of pillows separating you from Luke. You turned off the bedside lamp in silence before removing the towel off your hair, gently brushing it. The silence stretched on, broken only by the soft rustle of your brush. Just as you thought Luke had successfully retreated into a silent sulk, his voice broke through the tension.

"Look" he muttered, whispering "it was an accident. Just forget it, alright?"

You couldn't help but let out a soft chuckle. "Oh, come on" you teased, leaning back against the pillows. "Didn’t expect that seeing a little skin was such a big deal for someone like you."

Luke shot you a glare, but it lacked its usual bite. Someone like him? What the hell did you mean by that? Maybe it was the unexpectedness of it all, or maybe it was the way the dim light had cast your figure in a different light, one he hadn't noticed before. Whatever it was, it had thrown him completely off balance.

A sudden, and quite unwelcome, thought struck him. Just what kind of experiences had you had? He knew you weren't naive, or dumb. But the thought of you with someone else… the possessiveness that flared up within him surprised him. It wasn't jealousy, not exactly, but a strange sense he couldn't quite explain.

He pushed the thought aside, focusing on calming his racing heart. He needed sleep, not a philosophical debate about his feelings for his least favorite demigod. Just as he was about to drift off, your voice sliced through the silence, sharper than any blade.

"Are you a virgin, Luke?"

The question hung in the air, a verbal bombshell that shattered the fragile peace. Luke's eyes snapped open, wide with disbelief. Gods, you were bold. He stared at you in the dark, lifiting his head up just enough to peak from the pillows in between your boides, his mind struggling to process your words.

"What?" he finally managed, his voice husky with disbelief.

A faint blush crept up your cheeks, a stark contrast to the playful glint in your eyes. "You heard me" you countered.

Luke felt a surge of annoyance mixed with a strange vulnerability. He wasn't used to being caught off guard, especially not by you. He opened his mouth to retort, to deflect the question with his usual sarcastic wit, but the words wouldn't come.

His gaze drifted towards the wall, a silent battle raging within him. Should he answer your question honestly? The thought of revealing such a personal detail to you, his nemesis, was unappealing. But then again, a small part of him, the part he kept hidden away, craved a different kind of connection with you.

He took a deep breath, the decision made. "Does it matter?" he finally replied, his voice a low murmur.

You turned on your side, facing him across the wall of pillows, getting rid of some of them, dropping them to the carpeted floor. The moonlight filtering through the window cast an ethereal glow on your face, making your eyes seem to sparkle with mischief.

"Maybe it does" you said, your voice soft and laced with an undercurrent of something else - intrigue? Even in the darkness, you could see the way your words affected him, the way his dark eyes seemed to flicker with a mixture of emotions.

Luke opened his mouth to respond, but before he could get a word out, you cut him off with a laugh that seemed tinged with nervousness.

"Forget it" you said, shaking your head slightly. "Just... hormonal thoughts." The explanation felt flimsy, even to your own ears. This wasn't just idle curiosity; it was something deeper, something you couldn't quite explain yet.

Luke remained silent for a moment, your sudden change in direction throwing him off. Part of him was relieved you weren't pressing the issue, but another part, the part he usually kept suppressed, felt a flicker of disappointment. He wouldn't admit it, not even to himself, but he'd be lying if he said he hadn't found your boldness, your honesty, even your sudden vulnerability, strangely appealing.

"Hormonal thoughts, huh?" he finally echoed, his voice husky. "Does that mean you wanna have sex with me?" He dared to voice the possibility that you might be attracted to him. He must´ve been out of his mind.

The thought was simply impossible. Yet, the way your eyes sparkled in the moonlight, the way you'd turned towards him, discarding some of the pillows as if to bridge the gap…

"No!" you blurted out, as if reading his mind. The defensiveness in your voice surprised you both. "It's not that at all. It's just... I don't know." Frustration laced your words. This whole conversation was turning into a confusing mess. “Just… how far have you reached with a girl?”

Luke stared at you, dumbfounded. This night had taken a turn he hadn't anticipated. Why were you even talking about this? Why were you asking these questions? Why, despite the initial irritation, was he finding himself answering?

Heaving a sigh, he sat up against the headboard, exhaustion finally catching up to him. "Not too far, actually" he mumbled, the words laced with a weariness that surprised him. The words felt strange coming out of his mouth, a confession he wouldn't have made to anyone else. He hadn't meant to dwell on past experiences, especially not with you. He hadn't realized how much he'd carried on his shoulders, the weight of overlooked desires he never truly got to satisfy. Suddenly, the frustration in your voice clicked into place. Was that why you'd asked? Was it because you felt the same way, burdened by an unfulfilled yearning?

But as you shifted in your bed, suddenly sitting up on your knees, he couldn't help but notice the way your silhouette was illuminated by the moonlight. And then he saw it — the lack of shorts beneath your t-shirt, a detail he'd managed to conveniently overlook in the heat of the moment, which didn´t make sense at all.

"What are you—?" he began, the question dying on his lips as you moved closer. You began to dismantle the remaining wall of pillows, clearing the way between you.

His heart hammered against his ribs as you sat down on his lap, one leg on each side of him. You were close, closer than you'd ever been before. A mix of confusion and arousal that left him speechless. You stared at him, your eyes reflecting the soft moonlight, as your hands reached for his.

"Have you ever done this?" you asked, your voice gentle, devoid of the usual sarcasm you wielded like a weapon. You weren't mocking him, weren't trying to pry. This was a genuine question, a moment of surprising intimacy that neither of you could have predicted.

Luke stared at you, his mind reeling. His hands, usually quick and confident, felt heavy and clumsy under your touch. You guided them to hold steady of your thighs, even though you were not moving, not yet.

Luke had never been more confused in his life. His mind raced, searching for a coherent response, an appropriate action. Was this a trap? A test? 'What the hell?' his mind raced.

But as he looked into your eyes, searching for an explanation, all he saw was a reflection of his own thunderstorm. You were just as confused as he was, caught in a moment of unexpected intimacy.

Neither of you knew what to say, what to do next. This wasn't part of the plan. You were supposed to be enemies, rivals forced to share a cramped motel room.

You know, the classic shit.

But this wasn’t it. This was something strange that even though he hated to admit it, he didn’t want it to end yet.

So he trailed his hands higher. Higher, higher, higher. Then placed his hands on your hips. He was breathless, and a sudden feeling of dumbness filled his insides as he stared at you, reading you like a book; you were waiting. And he had no idea what to do.

But you surely did. A slight sway of your hips was all he needed to breath out the amount of air his chest was holding. Then another one, and another; each movement pressed deliciously against his cock, already hardened.

He let out a deep groan, teeth tightening and head falling back slightly.

You placed your hands around his shoulders, pulling him closer to you, almost chest to chest. Your hips kept rolling over him. If this felt good to him, it must’ve feel like heaven to you, due to your lack of lower clothes.

“You’re big, Luke” you whispered, a tiny smirk smudged along your lips. There it was. You again.

He thanked the darkness for hiding his red cheeks, but his state was not going to make him vulnerable again. He gripped your hips tighter, pulling at the top of your ass towards him over and over. “Fuck, just shut up for five minutes” he breathed out.

You didn’t answer. Your mouth hang open over his own. Your lips were dangerously close to touching, to kissing. But it was not gonna happen. As your hips rolled at a fast pace his breath tangled with yours, his moans, his groans, everything was swallowed by your own sounds.

He should feel embarrassed of behaving like this, not only because it is you but because he’s supposed to be in the middle of a mission. But come on, he knew this would happen soon or later.

All those years in which he secretly saved his feeling for himself. He had to hide the fact that whenever he touched your skin, whenever he felt your warm body against his hands, even the slightest and most teasing touch, a bolt of lighting went from the tip of his toes to his head.

He felt drunk in you in just a second and what, because he accidentally saw you almost naked?

He had to thank the gods for his luck.

“Oh, Luke” you moaned, head tilting back as you squeezed your eyes shut. Oh, he liked that.

He audibly chucked, laughed at you. “Who would’ve known?” he asked. “Who would’ve known you’d be so dirty, baby?”

Your eyes sparkled with fire, piercing Luke’s insides as the scar on his face twitched like every time he smiled. Despite the look on your face, your hips kept rolling over his; you couldn’t stop. It felt too good, too hot, too wet, even under Luke’s sweatpants.

“Don’t call me baby” you managed to blurt out, but the sound coming out of your mouth just made the whole sentence something pornographic. Luke didn’t complain.

You removed your hands from his neck. He was convinced you were gonna climb off of him and he would have to apologize repeatedly so he could finally get to cum with you on top of him; but instead, your hands travelled down his torso, and hid under his white shirt, pressing your palms onto his abs, pushing your own body harder against his.

“What should I call you then?” he whispered against your mouth, hands gripping impossibly tighter, finally gripping to your asscheeks. He had to hide a groan from the very back of his throat. “Bunny? ‘Cause you can’t deny you wanna hop on my cock?”

Now that was new.

If you were shocked, your face wouldn’t show it, but your body surely did. Your movements became sloppy, tired, and your chest moved up and down faster than ever. Luke rolled his own hips into yours, moaning uncontrollably at the feeling of his cock being constantly rubbed under your clothes pussy, and at the sight of the small wet patch you had on your underwear.

“Luke. I wanna cum” you moaned out. He liked that you didn’t warn you were going to, but you wanted to. As if you were asking for his permission.

“You won’t get off me until I cum, get it?”

He was a possessed man all of a sudden. His groans, growing deeper with every movement, his hands holding onto you for dear life and his breath twirling with yours as if you were the oxygen he needed to stay alive.

The tight feeling on your belly snapped as fast as you started to feel it. Yet you were obedient, so you kept moving.

The overstimulation was too much already, but when was gonna be the last time you would get to almost fuck Luke Castellan? Probably this time, you wouldn’t want to screw it up.

In fact, you wanted to do so much more. To suck his dick, to gag on it. To let him play with your body as much as he pleased and craved for. To let him take you anywhere and anytime he liked.

It didn’t take Luke long enough to hit his climax too, thankfully. His hips twitched against yours repeatedly as he placed his forehead on your chest. His breath was heavy as if he had run a million miles, his forehead sweaty.

Your hand reached his curls, smoothly running them down the back of his neck as if you were comforting him from the worst experience he had ever had. Little did you know this was his best so far.

“Do we-,” he cut himself off to swallow thickly. He didn’t realize how dry his throat was until he tried to speak. “Do we get to share rooms again?”

“What do you think?”

part two <3

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