#drabble

[moongreenlight]

Soap (who you’ve never met before ever in your life) being your server during an anniversary dinner with your long-time boyfriend except he took one look at you by the host stand and decided he had to have you. 

Calls you “sweet thing” while he unwraps a straw and puts it in your water glass for you. 

Asks if you’re out with your brother (without making eye contact with your boyfriend) and even after you told him no, he still ‘makes the mistake’ a few other times during the meal. 

Stops over way more than is necessary. Probably has the kitchen intentionally screw up your appetizer so that when you bring it up he can make you feed him off of your fork. For quality control, of course. “Cannae have a sweet thing like you wasting the talents of a pretty mouth like that on something below par.”

Your boyfriend is pissed. Sends back his food twice and makes such a scene that the manager comes over. When he throws accusations of an “overly fucking friendly waiter,” you try to smooth the situation over by saying that everything was fine. Your boyfriend gets so riled that he throws a fistful of cash on the table and tells you it should cover his meal and your ride home. 

Soap swoops in while you’re sobbing at the table. Slides in your side of the booth carrying a scoop of vanilla ice cream topped with an obscene amount of whipped cream and a cherry. Squashes you up against the wall while he coos kind things in your ear. Like he’s reading off a script meticulously chosen to include all of the right things that make you let down your guard enough to agree to let him drive you home. 

“Wouldnae hear of you driving yourself home in this state, kitty.”

And once he finally gets you back to his, he goes in for the kill. Keeps saying the right things, keeps wrapping his arm around you and pulling you right into his side, keeps pushing his face close to yours. So much so that it almost feels like it’s your idea when you- still hiccuping and sniffling softly- lean forward and close the centimeters wide gap between you.

#drinking a baja blast zero and thinking nasty thoughts as is my god given american right. #moongreenlight #moongreenlightwrites #sephspeaks #cod mw2 #call of duty #cod x reader #141 headcanons #drabble #john soap mactavish #soap cod #soap x reader #soap mw2 #soap mw3 #johnny #johnny soap mactavish x reader #johnny soap mactavish #johnny mactavish #soap mactavish #john mactavish #soap call of duty #soap smut #putting tags on posts when I put them out on my laptop is fucking harrowing

[dragon-ascent]

You face off against the Geo Lord in an epic showdown.

"The moment is now, Rex Lapis," you announce, staring down at him from where you are perched. "I have come to challenge you!" Every single moment of your journey has culminated into this moment right here.

What you were made for.

And if fate has willed it, it's what your foe was made for, too. The older man is poised, golden eyes shining in amusement as he looks up at you. "You have done well to come this far, esteemed one. If a battle is what you seek, then so be it. Ready your weapon!"

"Weapon?" You laugh mockingly. "No, I need no weapon to fell you!"

The god smirks in response. "Then nor shall I use one." He gets into position, eyeing you like a hawk. Waiting for your first move.

"Here comes...the cuddle monster!" You jump off the couch and glomp your husband. "Raaaaaah!"

"A formidable move," commends Zhongli, holding you tight, "but can you counter...this?" He squeezes you, but you squeeze back with as much vim and vigor.

You cackle. "You're no match for me, Deus Auri!" You kiss his cheeks repeatedly, tackling him onto the soft sofa.

"Ah...you are strong..." he murmurs, holding you by the waist. "However, do not underestimate me, Huggable One." He takes your mouth by surprise in a deep and passionate kiss, rubbing your hips as he does so.

You find yourself melting, turning limp atop your husband. "Oh my," you sigh dreamily when he pulls away from the kiss. "Perhaps I'm no match for the Geo Lord after all..."

But just when Zhongli thinks the match is over, you grin and slide your hand teasingly lower, cupping him between his legs, eliciting a moan of surprise from him.

"I know just how to vanquish you," you tease, giggling at the way he closes his eyes with a small smile as you gleefully advance your surprise turnaround attack.

Suffice to say, the victory goes to you tonight.

#sini writes #zhongli #genshin impact #zhongli x reader #fluff #drabble

[alltheirdamn]

DECLINED | Mechanic!Joel x f!reader

*The Bet*

Summary: Joel makes you a bet during a night out. Rating: 18+ Explicit Word Count: 3k Warnings: Pre-outbreak AU, mechanic!joel, established relationship, mentions of alcohol, banter, teasing, semi-public sex, unprotected piv sex, oral (f! receiving), edging, ROUGH sex, squirting, hair pulling, choking, cum eating, facial, light spanking, light face slapping, heavy kissing, explicit language, pet names (darlin', cowboy, babydoll), brat taming (kinda?) A/N: This is just pure FILTH. Eat it up, kids, I know you love it.

Masterlist | Ko-Fi

Friday nights always meant date night with Joel. With Tommy babysitting Sarah and the work day done for you both, he insisted on taking you to his favorite bar on the outskirts of town. You were looking forward to a night alone, especially when you had a surprise up your sleeve. Earlier in the week, you came across a boutique in downtown Austin that sold very…niche t-shirts…and couldn’t help buying one. Putting the finishing touches on your makeup, you stepped back and admired your outfit. You had on the tiniest pair of cut-off denim shorts hugging your ass, a pair of worn black cowboy boots, and a fitted tank top with Cowboy Pillows written across your chest. It was perfect, and you knew it would drive Joel crazy. 

Joel stopped dead in his tracks when you came waltzing out of the house and toward his truck; the hand holding open the passenger door tightened until his knuckles turned white. 

Staring you down with a fire lit behind his big puppy dog eyes, Joel shook his head in protest.

“Absolutely the fuck not, babydoll,” he swore. “Take that pretty ass back inside and change.”

You stood before the truck with your arms crossed and the biggest pout forming on your lips. 

“Did you even read my shirt, cowboy?” You asked, moving your arms to reveal the words stretched over your breasts. 

“It’s very cute, darlin’, but you ain’t goin’ out like that,” Joel grumbled. 

“Why?” You frowned. 

“I ain’t tryna get arrested tonight. ‘Cause if one man lay eyes on those perky tits, I’m killin’ them.”

You strode toward him, pressing your body against his. His hands found their usual spot over the swell of your ass, his fingers prodding into the supple flesh hidden under the denim. You hummed as his mouth dipped to your ear, his teeth grazing over the shell as his voice dropped low. 

“Why don’t we just stay in?” He breathed. “Wanna take you right back in the house and fuck you ‘til you can’t walk.”

“You promised me a night out, Joel,” you whined. 

He made his way down your neck, peppering you with open-mouthed kisses before responding to your demands.

“Fine,” he muttered against your skin. “Get your sexy ass in the fuckin’ truck, and let’s go.”

He released you and climbed into the truck with a mischievous grin. Joel quickly pulled you across the bench, tucking you into his side as he pulled out of the driveway and toward the bar. You brushed your hand over Joel’s thigh, your fingers creeping up to the zipper of his jeans. He shifted in the seat, spreading his legs a little wider to welcome more of your touch. 

“You’re gonna get yourself in trouble, babydoll,” he warned. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you replied innocently. 

His hand shot out before you could drag his zipper down, bringing your fingers up to his mouth to place gentle kisses along each digit. 

“I’ll make you a bet,” he smirked, turning his head to look at you.

“What kind of bet?”

“No touchin’ each other tonight. The first person to do it loses.”

A giggle bubbled out of you as you considered his offer. Knowing Joel, he’d lose before you stepped into the bar. The idea of teasing him all night already had your thighs clenching tight, the friction of the denim against your aching clit nearly too painful to bear.

“What happens to the loser?” You asked.

“Loser gets to do whatever the other one wants.”

The truck slowed to a stop as the streetlight turned red, and you moved closer to reel him in for a deep kiss. If this bet was going to happen, you wanted all the attention before you set out to win the bet. Joel’s tongue brushed over your lips, coaxing your mouth open wider and deepening the kiss. You moaned into his mouth, tangling your hands in his hair to hold him closer. 

“You’re on, cowboy,” you grinned, pulling away as the light turned green. “Hope you’re ready to lose.”

“We’ll see ‘bout that, darlin'.”

The bar was mildly crowded for a Friday night. Most of the patrons were older men sulking around or flirting with the bartenders. Soft country music floated out of the jukebox in the corner, and you found yourself swaying your hips to the melody. Joel watched you as you danced, his eyes never leaving your body unless he caught wind of another man admiring you from afar. You laughed each time he scowled at them and upped the movement of your hips just to get a rise out of him. Watching him try to hold back from touching you was cute, his hand nearly crushing the beer he was nursing. 

After your third drink, the tipsy feeling started to settle in, and self-restraint was slowly phasing out of your body. Joel noticed the shift in your mood as you perched yourself on a barstool. You tried to hide the way you clenched your thighs, chasing the friction of the denim rubbing against your aching clit. Leaning in as close as he could, Joel lowered his head and chuckled. 

“Doin’ okay, babydoll?” He whispered in your ear, his mouth a breath away from your neck.

You shivered at the phantom touch; he was so close, yet not close enough. 

“Stop it,” you exhaled. “You’re not playing fair.”

“Not playin’ fair?” He questioned. “You ain’t been playin’ fair since you walked out the damn house.”

“Aw, poor baby,” you feigned sympathy. “Am I driving you crazy with my lil’ outfit?”

“You have no fuckin’ idea, darlin’.”

Scootching off the barstool, you tilted your head toward the vacant pool table. Joel’s eyes followed the motion, raising his brow at your silent invitation.

“Y’wanna play?” He asked. “Hope you’re ready to lose, darlin’.”

“You talk a big game, cowboy. You’re on.”

You grabbed a cue stick and waited for Joel to rack the balls and center them on the green velvet table. He grabbed his own stick and gestured to you to start. 

“All you, babydoll. Let’s see it.”

You rounded the table and leaned over to line your stick with the cue ball. Inhaling on the pull of your stick, you exhaled and drove it into the cue. The sound of the resin balls breaking shattered the music in the background, their triangle formation scattering across the table. You managed to sink two striped balls into the left corner pocket and rose to assess the damage. Joel stared at you, impressed, nodding as he lined up his stick with the cue. 

“Y’got stripes, babydoll. Solid’s are mine,” he mutters, his eyes trained on the ball. 

You watched, mesmerized, as Joel’s shoulder muscles moved fluidly with each extension of his arm. With a strong drive of the stick, Joel sunk the four ball into the right-center pocket. Giving you a cocky grin, he rounded the table again, this time directly facing you. He stared up at you, his eyes dark under the furrow of his brows. You bent over the table's edge, propping your face onto your hands and shimming your shoulders slightly. Joel’s eyes snapped up to your chest, fixated on the way your breasts pushed together.

“Not fair,” he gritted before sending his stick into the cue ball. 

The ball scratched on the table, missing the solid he aimed for. You smirked at him, sticking your tongue out as you skipped around the table to settle into position against the table. You eyed Joel as he moved to stand behind you, and you rewarded him with pushing your ass out further. Giving your hips a little wiggle, you sent a forceful shot into the cue, sinking the nine ball and ricocheting it against the twelve ball, sending it into the right corner pocket. 

“Damn,” Joel mumbled, tracking your body as you lined up for your third turn. 

“Didn’t think I was good, huh?” You laughed. 

“You’re good at everythin’, darlin’.”

The dip in his voice vibrated up your body as you pressed your legs against the table to line up for the next stroke. Joel leaned his hip against the corner of the table, folding his arms as he watched you aim your stick at the cue. 

“C’mon, babydoll,” he whispered, drawing your focus away from the shot and causing the cue ball to sink into the pocket rather than the fifteen ball you were gunning toward. 

“You play dirty,” you grumbled. 

Joel crowded you, his body inches from yours. You arched into the distance between your bodies, barely keeping your chest from brushing his. 

“I bet those panties are already soaked, huh?” Joel teased.

You gave him an innocent smile, ready to deliver the final blow to his restraint. Rising onto your toes, you kept your mouth close to his ear. 

“They would be if I were wearing any, cowboy.”

You pulled back to see Joel’s nostrils flaring, his eyes roaming down your body and back up. 

“Bathroom. Now.” He demanded. 

“But we’re still playing,” you whined, gesturing to the pool table. 

Joel’s hand shot out to your waist, dragging you to his body. 

“Fuck the game. Need you in that bathroom now so I can fuck that sassiness outta you,” he growled. 

“I’m not sassin’ you, cowboy. You’re just a sore loser,” you taunted. 

“I ain’t gonna ask again, babydoll. You either walk to the bathroom right now, or I fuck you on that pool table in front of everyone.”

“Maybe I want a crowd,” you shrugged with a coy grin. “Bend me over right here, cowboy. Show them who’s yours.”

“Bet you’d like that, huh? Have all them eyes on you while you scream my name and soak the table. Y’wanna show everyone how good y’take my cock?”

“Do it,” you smiled. 

Joel’s hand traveled down your ass, squeezing it hard enough to make you yelp before smacking it hard. A few heads turned at the sound, their wandering eyes scrutinizing you and Joel. Even though Joel could be all talk, you knew he wouldn’t actually fuck you in front of everyone, not when he was the most protective and selfish man there was. 

You were too turned on to fight it now. Turning toward the bathroom, you glanced over your shoulder and smiled as Joel watched you walk to the dimly lit hallway of the bar. You didn’t have the care to notice heads turning to stare at you as you passed, the excitement too strong as it coursed through your veins. You barely had a hand on the door when you felt a warm body pressed against your back, and Joel was quick to shove you inside the one-stall bathroom. With a quick turn of the lock, he had you pinned to the ceramic sink and his mouth crashing against yours. While you tangled your fingers into his messy curls, Joel worked at your shorts, tugging the tight denim down your hips and thighs. He broke away from your lips, staring down at your bare sex as you spread your legs slightly. 

“Fuckin’ christ, babydoll,” he exhaled. “Can’t believe you been keepin’ this from me all night.”

“Like what you see?” 

Joel wrapped two strong hands behind your thighs and lifted you onto the edge of the sink. You gasped at the shock of the cold against your bare ass, bucking your hips forward to search for his warmth. He lowered himself onto his knees, keeping a firm grip on your thighs as you settled your calves over his shoulders. Peering up at you between your parted legs, Joel gave you a wicked grin before brushing his nose up your inner thighs. 

“You know I won, right?” You questioned as his tongue pressed against your throbbing clit. “Technically, I should be calling the shots.”

Joel glared up at you, his pupils blown wide under the red lights of the bathroom. 

“Y’can call the shots all you want later,” he mumbled. “Right now, you’re mine.”

You cried as his tongue dipped inside you, his jaw working overtime to pull each pitiful sound from your body. He drew circles around your slick folds, purposefully avoiding your aching clit. You whined every time his tongue brushed close to it, that agonizing surge of pleasure coursing through your body. Music from the bar drifted into the bathroom, layering over the frustrated cries leaving your lips. 

“Stop teasing, cowboy,” you panted, bucking your hips against his tongue.

“This is what ya’ get, darlin’,” Joel spoke against your wet cunt.

“Please,” you begged.

He pulled away entirely, leaving you chasing the orgasm you never got. Spinning you toward the mirror, Joel worked at freeing his cock with one hand while pressing the other hand into your spine. You flattened against the sink, your hands pressed against the mirror. Glancing up, you met his eyes in the mirror, watching as his lips twitched into a devilish grin. That was all the warning he gave before he drove into you in one fluid stroke. 

“Fuck!” You cried, your head falling between your shoulders.

Joel’s hand wound around your hair, twisting it into a ponytail and yanking your neck back until you strained against his grip. 

“Nuh uh, babydoll,” Joel grunted. “Watch me while I fuck you.”

You locked your eyes with his through the reflection, watching as his face twisted into something carnal. He pounded into you with enough force to make the sink underneath you creak with the weight pressed against it. Joel kept a relentless pace, dismissing every whine and sob falling off your lips. He reached around you with his other hand, wrapping his hand around your throat and squeezing tight. You heaved in a breath as your vision blurred, the pleasure mixing with pain every time he slammed into you.

Your orgasm started surging up through your core, snaking into your bloodstream and becoming unbearable to hold back. You choked out a sob, your thighs quaking as the pleasure built inside your stomach.

“Joel,” you choked. 

“Y’need to cum, babydoll?” Joel taunted, driving into you hard.

His cock hit the right spot over and over again until he felt your cunt clenching around him. He pulled out at the exact moment your orgasm exploded through your body, liquid gushing out of you and down your thighs. Joel growled in approval, sinking back into you as the aftershocks sent tremors through your limbs.

“Good fuckin’ girl,” he praised. “Keep takin’ my fuckin’ cock. I ain’t done yet, babydoll.”

His hand was still gripping your throat, his fingers applying more pressure to cut off your ragged whimpers. You clawed at the edge of the sink, entirely at Joel’s mercy as he wrecked into you harder…faster. He didn’t lie when he said he was going to fuck the sass out of you; you were helpless in this moment. 

But you fucking loved it.

“So. Fuckin’. Good.” Joel punched out each word through every thrust. 

Joel released your throat and wrapped both hands in your hair, using it to guide your hips back against his cock. You were so full of him and so sore, but you couldn’t deny the pressure swelling inside your stomach. You gasped for air as each thrust grew stronger, his cock assaulting you until you spasmed under him and let your orgasm rush out of you. 

“Fuck! Fuck… fuck… fuck,” you chanted, chasing the throbbing pulse inside your body. 

Warm liquid drenched his cock, the lewd sound of his hips meeting yours echoing around you. Joel pulled out suddenly, leaving you hollow and soaked. Wrangling you to your knees, Joel pumped his cock over your open mouth, grunting out your name as his release painted your tongue and lips. Bending down to eye level, Joel lapped up the cum dripping off your swollen lips before bringing his hand up to slap your cheek. He rubbed a hand over your face, smearing your makeup around, leaving you a fucked-out mess.

“Y’look so pretty like this,” he hummed, pulling you in for a hungry kiss. You whimpered into his mouth, his tongue intertwining with yours. 

“I love you, babydoll,” he sighed, pressing his lips against your forehead. 

“I love you too, cowboy,” you preened. 

You were used to him being rough—dominant—but this possessiveness was intoxicating. You wanted more.

“I think I should sass you more often,” you giggled. 

“You enjoy bein’ fucked like a bratty lil’ slut?” He smirked. 

“Love it,” you exhaled, dragging him back to your mouth. 

Joel helped you back into your shorts after you both took a moment to breathe. You turned towards the mirror and admired the complete mess that you were; your hair was mangled into knots, your shirt was askew, and your face was covered in streaks of mascara, smeared lipstick, and drool. A giggle bubbled out of you as you tried to tame down your hair and wipe away some of the makeup coating your rosy cheeks. Joel grabbed your hand, tugging you away from the mirror.

“Leave it,” he whispered. “Want everyone to see how filthy you are.”

“Seriously?” You gaped. 

Joel nodded his eyes, his eyes coasting over your body. 

“Seriously, babydoll. Need to show them you’re mine.”

“I think they already know,” you said pointedly. “I’m pretty sure I was loud enough to break the jukebox.”

He chuckled at your statement, tapping your ass and guiding you toward the door. Dropping his mouth to your ear, he softly kissed your neck before twisting the lock open.

“C’mon, darlin’. Let’s go home so y’can have your way with me.”

“I’m going to make you pay for this, cowboy,” you warned. “I'm going to have you on your knees begging for it.”

“I’ll happily worship you all night, babydoll,” he smiled, kissing your cheek before guiding you into the hall and out to his truck.

#mechanic!joel #joel miller x f!reader #joel x f!reader #joel x female reader #joel miller fanfic #joel miller smut #joel miller tlou #joel tlou #pre outbreak!joel #one shot #drabble #this is just filth

[frickingnerd]

trying to win back your heart

pairing: katsuki bakugou x gn!reader

summary: after your break up, bakugou tries to win back your heart - and he's very persistent!

"don't you ever get tired of doing this?"

you sighed and looked at your ex-boyfriend and the big bouquet of flowers he held in his arms. ever since you had broken up with him, after your last fight, bakugou had tried everything to win you back. flowers, sweets, teddy bears, love letters – you had seen it all! 

"never, not when it's about you!"

he grinned so confidently at you, that you just couldn't help but roll your eyes. bakugou was just too stubborn! it was what led to you breaking up with him and now he tried to use this stubborness of his to win you back as well. 

"i told you, i don't need flowers or sweets or whatever…" you were growing frustrated with him. "i just want some time alone right now, alright? once i've calmed down a bit, we can talk again"

that confident grin on bakugou's lips faded away and he lowered his head. 

"could you at least take the flowers then? i don't really have any use for them, you know?"

he reached the bouquet out towards you. you hesitated, but ended up taking it, which caused that stupid grin to appear on bakugou's face again. 

"you took the flowers, so you can't be that mad at me~"

bakugou hummed victoriously, earning a glare from you. 

"shut up and leave before i change my mind…"

#katsuki bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #katsuki #bakugou #bakugo #katsuki bakugo #katsuki bakugou #x reader #x you #x y/n #x gn reader #exes to lovers #mha x reader #bnha x reader #mha #bnha #my hero academia #my hero academia x reader #boku no hero academia #boku no hero academia x reader #fluff #oneshot #drabble

[multi-fandom-imagine]

LUCIFER MY BELOVED <3 <3

I love pregnant reader/Lucifer stuff, could I maybe request some domestic fluffy dad-to-be Luci pls?

A/n: Dad!Lucifer 👏

"Are you sure you are okay?" Lucifer hovered over you as you were relaxing in your chair.

Letting out a soft laugh, you sighed as you placed your hand on your belly letting your eyes drift closed for a moment. "I'm fine Luci, you need to stop worrying so much."

Lips quivering, Lucifer knelt beside you as he rested his cheek on your belly. "Darling...I have too." Giving you a pout he then placed a kiss to your wrist smiling up at you. "You are a goddess, you needed to be treated as such."

Letting out a yawn, you let your body relax into the seat as he started to message whatever ached. Your eyes drifting close. "Fine." You muttered giving him a teasing smile letting your fingers caress his cheeks, Lucifer arching into your touch.

"I cannot wait to meet you." Lucifer muttered placing another kiss to your belly. "You are very loved...you have your mommy and daddy....you have your big sister Charlie and Auntie Vaggie." Closing his eyes the King of Hell clutched the fabric of your dress as he blinked away a few tears.

"I promise I will be a good father."

"You don't have to promise Lucifer, because you already are."

#drabbles #drabble #lucifer #lucifer morningstar #lucifer magne #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin lucifer #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer hazbin x reader #lucifer x reader #lucifer hazbin #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x y/n #lucifer magne x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader

[cute-sucker]

EX HUSBAND RAFE HEADCANONS !!

ex-husband!rafe will continuously come to your house telling you it's only to check up on your baby girl

ex-husband!rafe will catch himself calling you sweetheart and honey, and them stop himself before it gets out of hand, iching his head and tilting his head in that endearing way

ex-husband!rafe is in tune with your cycle, and you swear the man knows the exact day to send you chocolate and sweet things to handle your sweet tooth

ex-husband!rafe will sleep on the couch with a sheepish smile, but then will soon later join you in your bed, cradling you in the way that made your breath catch whispering "what's the master bed for then, huh?"

ex-husband!rafe will know everything about your dating life/borderline which may seen creepy but somehow you know it's for your health and somehow you understand it all

ex-husband!rafe will let the goddamn pretentious expensive preschool know that his daughter is worth the world and the last thing they want to do is piss the cameron's off

ex-husband!rafe would find himself desperately cracking an inside in an attempt to reminisce about times before your split

ex-husband!rafe will still introduce you as his wife in business outings, a sharp smile on his face while his hand wanders possessively low at the small part of your back, and sometimes you liked how he took stake of what was his

ex-husband!rafe would always attend school events for their daughter, cheering their daughter at the soccer match, and making decisions over coffee

ex-husband!rafe would have you a new bouquet every single time he comes to your house- almost as if to make up for every single one he didn't give you when the two of you were together

ex-husband!rafe still glances at you in that way where dull sparks travel up into your heart, and you feel the testament of time and the feeling that you would never forget the imprint he has on your mind

ex-husband!rafe always compliments you, and sometimes he kisses your forehead, and when you're crying too hard he bundles you in his arms and tells you everything

ex-husband!rafe watches cheesy romance movies with you, both of your legs entwined, and he watches you during those rom coms all teary eyed and telling him it was the best time for romance

ex-husband!rafe lets you know everything that happens in his life, if it's for a little chat or a ride in his car- and his car? he still drives you everywhere. who knows the types of sickos there are in the world? that's what he says to say as he rants furiously

ex-husband!rafe is still the first emergency contact in your phone, and when you get in trouble - he's running to you, arms open to cradle you in his warmth. he always knows how to handle the situation

ex-husband!rafe starts baking for you, and sometimes he leaves a few cupcakes or muffins every single he comes. at this point you feel the sudden urge to grab his face and kiss him every single time he cheekily leaves more loafs of bread for you

ex-husband!rafe loves your daughter and you to the moon and back, and he calls the two of you, "his girls," and you swear sometimes you feel your heart break when you see the wary look on his face

ex-husband!rafe always avoids the question regarding why you split up, because he sees the way hot tears well up in your eyes, and the way your hands shake underneath the table and the last time a bastard asked that question--rafe almost punched him in the face

ex-husband!rafe curses himself every single day for signing those papers and letting the best goddamn thing he ever had go.

#ex-husband!rafe #rafe x you #rafe outer banks #rafe imagine #obx fic #rafe cameron #rafe x reader #angst #rafe obx #fluff #drabble #headcanon #sad thoughts #i'm not crying you are #pls send me asks for this man #ex husband!rafe x reader #obx fanfiction #rafe cameron headcanons #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron imagine #rafe concepts #rafe fluff #rafe fic #outerbanks rafe #rafe cameron x fem!reader #obx3 #rafe cameron obx #rafe cameron x reader #rafe x fem!reader

[batfleshh]

I got sad and horny and had this thought so take it ig

Price X M!Reader nsfw mdni and stuff not proofread

“Shh. Shhh, boy, just play your music, yeah?”, Price whispers to you as you sniffle, your leaky cock hard in his rough hand. You try to mumble something to him, your hand shakily gripping your phone as you wait to unpause the song coming through your earbuds. You whimper at him, letting out tiny sobs as you try to tell him it hurts, that you just need to cum oh so bad.

He gives you gentle kisses on your neck as you beg him to let you release, only reassuring you that you’ll be okay and never giving you a clear answer. You lean back against his chest and sniffle, your thumb unpausing the song. You shudder as John’s hand moves up and down your cock, your own noises being muffled by the music playing in your ears. Your head rests back against his shoulder, his hand picking up speed as you begin to pant and squirm. His arm wraps around your abdomen, warm tears falling down your cheeks as you feel his own member poking at you from below.

You attempt to squirm again, more tears leaving your eyes as you begin to whimper and whine in his ear, his thumb rubbing circles on your oozing tip. Price just lets you make noise, not attempting to silence you as the song in your ears drowns it out for you. He gives you more kisses on your neck, beginning to suck and bite at the skin as you feel yourself getting closer and closer to release. He reaches his free hand up and grabs at your neck, giving it a few squeezes as his other hand moves up and down your shaft.

You finally cum on his hand with a sharp yelp, losing yourself for a few moments as you thrust yourself against his hand. You bite your lip, trying to stop the cries that were going to leave you from escaping. You hear the song that was playing conclude, going limp against Price and sniffling. You feel him shuffle around before kissing you on the jaw, whining gently at his gentle hands pulling your boxers up.

#bat bite #male reader #x male reader #gay #cod x reader #call of duty #cod x male reader #drabble #captian price x male reader #captain price smut #captian price #captain john price #john price #price x male reader #price x reader #cod price #I got bored

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Man 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: mob!Lloyd Hansen

Summary: a demanding customer complicates more than your work life.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You stand behind the counter, ready to serve the next customer that comes through the door. If you thought the rush was bad, the lulls are worse. The time drags by as the clock seems to taunt you. You sigh again as you hear Bre clattering around in the back room. You’d rather be back there folding up empty boxes and scouring trays.

You yawn and waver on your feet. The small local cafe doesn’t have the consistent traffic of the franchised kiosk just down the block but there are still hectic rushes. The mornings just after nine, then at noon when the office workers run out for a refresh espresso or a lunchtime sweet, but the afternoons usually deliver no more than the errant college student on their laptop or a few friends in between visits to boutiques.

The door opens and you glance over at the man who walks through the door. He strikes you as out-of-place as he struts across the cafe, hitting a table with his thigh, and sneering at it as if it insulted his mother. He’s tall with broad shoulders, and his hair is slicked back while the sides of his head are buzzed. He wears a black turtle neck under and open jacket and a pair of matching slacks that show off his ankles. His loafers are a rippling grey and black snakeskin print with a shining silver buckle.

You grip the sides of the till as he approaches but he doesn’t look at you. You stare, a little put off by his lack of acknowledgement as he peers up at the menu. He steps forward, tapping his fingers on the counter as he blows out between his lips. A golden signet ring flashes on his pinkie. You’re still not sure he’s in the right place.

“Hello, sir, can I get you--”

“Shh,” he hisses and holds up his finger. You snap your mouth shut and blink. He squints at the menu. He hums, clucking as he gives a thoughtful look to the hand-painted letters. Alright?

You wiggle your foot impatiently, biting your tongue. You’re not an inherently rude person but some customers make you wish you were. You watch him and he finally lowers his chin.

“Oat latte. Half blonde espresso, half regular, with the toffee nut syrup and a sprinkle of cinnamon.”

You nod as you punch in his order. It’s quite the drink. Sometimes you think people just pile on to see how far they can push service workers. They can’t just have a simple drink. Some even request the temperature to the digit.

“Alright, got it, it’s fifty cents for the syrup, is that okay?”

“Fifty cents?” He echoes haughtily, “no, that’s not okay.”

“Um, okay, well, it’s uh, on the menu,” you crane to look behind you, “fifty cents for a flavour shot, twenty-five for whipped cream.”

“I didn’t ask about goddamn whipped cream. They don't charge me here, doll. Get me the goddamn drink,” he demands.

You reel. Admittedly, you’re new. You’re learning but your first lesson was simple; customers are awful.

“I can just take the syrup off, I guess,” you hit the x and the whole order disappears.

“Didn’t you hear me? No charge, honey. It’s on the house.”

You purse your lips and look at him. You raise a brow. Alright, this is a new one.

“Um, if you’d just hold on, I think... uh, I should ask--”

“Yeah, you better fucking ask,” he sneers as swipes at a stack of paper cups and sends them flying. You flinch out of the way and spin to burst through the door to the kitchen.

“Uh, Bre,” you say, “there’s a really angry dude out there and he wants a free latte so uh, what do I do about that?”

She looks over at you as she puts a tray of cookies on a cooling rack. She frowns and her forehead stitches. She pulls of her oven mitt and checks her fitbit.

“Shit, it’s Thursday,” she mutters as if it’s the end of time.

“Yeah, it is, so uh--”

She waves away your words with the mitt and tosses both on the counter as she hurries past you. Confused, you turn to follow her through the swinging door. You stay behind her as she goes to the till.

“Mr. Hansen, so lovely to see you, what were we getting today?” She chimes, more lively than you’ve ever heard you. At any other time, she’s dulcet, almost monotone, completely over the cafe lifestyle.

He scoffs and his eyes drift from her to you. He pokes his tongue into his cheek, “oat, toffee nut, half blond, half regular, cinnamon on top,” he notes each element tersely, “and how about you teach this one some goddamn manners.”

He glares at you and you give a wide-eyed look. You shrug at Bre as she glances over at you. She shakes her head subtly. You take a step back.

You grab a cup and she quickly takes it out of your hands, “I got it, stay out of the way.”

You put your hands up and back away. You don’t know what you did wrong. Who is this man? He smirks and hovers on the other side of the counter as he crosses his arms over his puffed chest. Bre brews a fresh espresso and steams the oat milk.

“I’m waiting, sweet lips,” he cups a hand to his ear, his other arm still over his chest.

You look back and forth.

“Apologise,” he demands.

Bre clears her throat and you glance over, your mouth falling open dumbly.

“Oh, uh,” you face the man again, “I’m sorry, sir, I didn’t know--”

“Well, now you fucking do,” he sneers as Bre places a cup down before him and a paper bag.

“Mr. Hansen, there’s a cinnamon bun for you too. We just took em out of the oven.”

“You’re such a dear, Bre Bear,” he cooes, sending you a venomous snarl.

You cringe as he spins and strides out with his fare. You watch after him, still thoroughly perplexed. Bre wipes the counter with a cloth.

“The next time he comes in, give him whatever he wants,” she says quietly.

“Oh, I didn’t... who is he?” You garble.

“Better you don’t know. Just think of him as the boss,” she sends you a desperate look, her eyes gleaming, “if you know what’s good for you, you’ll smile and listen.”

She brushes you with her shoulder as she goes back into the kitchen. You furrow your brow and glance towards the door. The man’s just outside the windowed walls, watching you. He winks before he disappears beyond the next facade

#lloyd hansen #dark lloyd hansen #dark!lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #the gray man #series #drabble #the man #mob!au #au

[harrietlancaster]

The lake 🌅✨💕

Her heart was racing.

She noticed how distracted Sebastian was by her, as one by one she undressed in front of him. He still held onto her bag, that she handed to him a moment ago to place somewhere safe, completely unaware of how his lips were parted slightly and his chest was heaving with every breath.

If her heart wasn't beating as fast as it was, she might've been giggling at the funny face he was making. After all, it was his idea to take a dip, when they found this lake, hidden deep in this forest. He was his usual overly confident and teasing self, never once thinking she'd actually do it.

Yet, here she was, just in her chemise, her eyes lingering on his darkened ones, before she stepped into the soothingly cool lake. The water was clear and sparkling, giving this place a magical feeling. The plants beneath the water tickled at her feet, her steps getting heavier and slower the further she walked into it.

When she turned around to see Sebastian still rooted to the ground, the first thing she noticed was the very apparent blush all over his freckled cheeks and forehead. Even his ears were glowing red.

She knew, now standing in the warm rays of sunshine, that he'd be able to see through the fabric and see her silhouette. But what she didn't know was how the sunrays made her hair look even more golden, her skin glow and her eyes stand out so much more.

"She's a goddess," Sebastian thought to himself, as he gulped thickly...

...and merely choked, as in the same moment that she looked away, her arm reached out, pulling on the bow of her chemise.

Just like the green bowtie in her hair showed everyone around her, that she was his, she would show him, just how much she meant that.

After half a year (also counting the 4 months of avoiding it) I finally finished this art!!! I'm so happy how it turned out! Thank you @rednite-dork for the help! 💕

Here are the two artworks of Harriet without the background! 🤭

divider by @saradika

#my art #harriet lancaster #harriet arabella sallow #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy mc #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian x mc #sebastian sallow x oc #sebastian x oc #sebastian sallow #sebastian #sebastian sallow hl #sebastian sallow hogwarts legacy #drawing #hogwarts legacy drawing #hl drawing #drabble #hogwarts legacy drabble #hl drabble

[fungal-rot]

joel drabble or something (MDNI)

i feel like pre-outbreak!Joel was a sweet lover. he’d shower you with kisses, praise you, wasn’t afraid to laugh at a funny noise during sex. he’d look at you like you hung the stars and moon yourself. he’d lazily hug you from behind as you made breakfast, talk about plans of your day. and when he’d come home after long hours of work he’d cuddle up next to you, laying his head on your chest and listen to the steady drumbeat of your heart.

raider!joel was a man who took what he wanted, when he wanted. consensually, of course- the man wasn’t evil. but god willing, when he wanted you on your knees, you’d be on your knees. he was rough, manhandled you, wanted to put his focus somewhere else that wasn’t on his own pain. he just wanted to forget.

jackson!joel is a man who worships you, kisses the ground you walk on. he’s already lost so much and is learning to love again. sex is passionate and desperate with him. he’d hold you tightly while pumping into you, sometimes slowly and gently, other times greedily like you were the only thing that could keep him grounded- and often times, you were. he’d tell you how much he loved you, and he’d show it through actions by taking care of your needs first before his.

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel tlou #joel miller tlou #the last of us hbo #tlou #joel miller x you #pedro pascal #the last of us #joel miller the last of us #joel miller imagine #joel miller fanfic #joel miller smut #joel x reader #joel the last of us #drabble

[moongreenlight]

Mafia!Price is NOT your fucking aesthetic. A full comprehensive list as to why.

He cooka da pizza!

He goes to church every Sunday. A massive Roman Catholic Church downtown. Ancient building with floor-to-ceiling stained glass windows depicting the life and loss of Christ. Full two hour masses that he always wears a suit to. At first it starts as some last-ditch attempt to absolve him of his guilt, but then it became habit. 

And maybe it was his wife. Her parents were devout and just about keeled over when they found out their only daughter was married by a quick ceremony in the courthouse to a man they’d never met. Her mother was the worst, though it was to be expected. Likely didn’t know John had won his new bride when her husband didn’t have the funds left to pay off his debt. Fucking miracle she hadn’t yet done the math and realized his first child was born seven months later. He’d be persecuted to no end.

There was a target on his back since the wedding. Always put him in the hot seat on Sunday evening dinners while his wife was trying to wrangle their children into eating their vegetables. Drilled into him about work and life and why he always seemed too busy to prioritize “something worthwhile” in his life. Mother sets in on him like she’d been waiting for the opening all evening.

“So, John. Remind us what you do for work.” Accusatory. Glaring over her barely touched plate of roast at him.

“Contracting. Bit of this and that.” He fights the urge to roll his eyes, if only barely. 

“Hm. And what does that entail? Can’t keep you as busy as you swear you are.” She’s unabashed. Her husband doesn’t share the sentiment. He sighs into his glass of brandy and tries to catch her eye. 

“Don’t do much hands-on these days. Project management and bookkeeping for me now. Brought on a few guys to do the grunt. You remember from when we did your bathroom, I’m sure.” He doesn’t shy away from the challenge. Principled. 

“Boys would do well to have some structure. Bet they haven’t been in a church since they were baptized.” She ignores his parry and switches to what she really wants to talk about after looking over to her daughter who is all but force-feeding them florets of broccoli. Typical.

He finally wore down after a Christmas where the only gift he got from them was a deep brown leather-wrapped bible. Used. Split down the spine, dog-eared pages.  Like they’d stolen it from the shelf in the pew for the dolts who weren’t well-mannered enough to bring their own. 

From then, it had become a welcome escape from reality. Church in the morning. 8am service, because he was up before the sun anyway. Sipping coffee in the kitchen beforehand, pouring over a heavy binder with the title ‘family finance’ scrawled in his wife’s delicate handwriting across the front.

He could hear her wrestling with their two boys in the bathroom upstairs. Their indignant screeching clueing him in that he should probably get up and help, but he always tried to steal a few more moments to himself. Calm before the storm.

The boys have sour looks on their faces when they stomp down the stairs not five minutes later, though they’re nothing in comparison to their mother who’s only a few steps behind. They get the deep furrow in their brows from him, the bitter curl of their lips from her. 

“Glad you’re enjoying your slow start, John. Really.”

He should feel worse for not helping. Tries to lay her hackles back down by snapping the binder shut and pressing a chaste kiss to her temple. She barely pauses to accept it before pushing past to pack her purse. Four bibles, his ratty one, her perfectly white one with different colored sticky notes poking out the sides, and two smaller children's bibles that she’d shove in their laps for appearance sake. Snacks for the boys, and a flash of the handle of her small handgun- safetied and then shoved into the bottom of her tote.

“Should’ve shouted f’you needed help. Can’t hear a thing down here.” The boys snicker when he winks over at them. They’re outfitted in their Sunday best. Slacks with damp finger marks on the thighs from where she’d tried to smooth out wrinkles. Buttoned-down shirts that they were already tugging at the collars of. Hair gelled back, no doubt the reason for their griping earlier. 

She doesn’t find it nearly as funny as they do. Shoots him a nasty look over her shoulder before disappearing into the spare room to grab a pair of low heels. 

“We’re already late. If we have to sit in the back again, you’ll never hear the end of it.” It’s not an empty threat. They’d missed one service and some aunt had told her mother in passing. Took three months to get her to stop bringing it up.

“S’not even half seven. Takes fifteen minutes to get there.”

It’s supposed to mollify her, but it has the adverse effect. She looks ready to throw a shoe at him when she sits on the bottom stair to tug them on. He raises his hands in surrender.

“Easy.” 

Somehow all four of them make it to the car in one piece. He sends a message to Kyle before they leave telling him to save them a space toward the front to err on the side of caution.

#I'm mafia-baiting sorry #This was really just to get me back into posting my writing lol #moongreenlight #moongreenlightwrites #sephspeaks #cod mw2 #call of duty #cod x reader #141 headcanons #drabble #price cod #captain john price #john price #captain price #price x reader #captain john price x reader #john price x reader #mafia au

[dragon-ascent]

Stay in bed a little longer with Zhongli.

The morning sun illuminates all that it sees in a faint golden glow - except the room you and Zhongli are snuggled up in, because the curtains are drawn. As far as either of you are concerned, it's not yet time to rise.

"Shall we get up now, dearest?" Zhongli asks, his thumb rubbing soft circles on your cheek. You shake your head, pressing up against him further. His leg entwines with yours in response, willfully giving in to the cuddling.

He hums, and out comes his tail that flops gently onto your hip. "Oh!" you exclaim.

"Oh, shall I put it away?" Zhongli starts to retract his tail, but you hold onto it.

"No, I was just surprised is all." You kiss his tail, not missing the way it immediately starts wagging when you do that. "I like it!" Smiling, Zhongli lets his tail wrap around you gently, giving you loving little squeezes. You giggle.

Your husband presses a kiss to your hair, tenderly petting you while his tail continues its affectionate squeezes. "You are lovely," he whispers, planting another two kisses, "have I told you that?"

"About every ten minutes," you reply, nuzzling his chest. His tail coils another ring around you at that.

Zhongli lets his hands wander, calloused golden-veined fingers tracing patterns along your skin, chuckling when goosebumps form along the trail of his touch. He watches, rapt, every little reaction your body has to his appendages before speaking. "I was thinking I should like to have breakfast in bed this morning."

"Oh, okay," you say, oblivious to the way his scales gleam sinisterly. "What would you like to have?" Zhongli cups your cheek, the smile never leaving his face. His tail coils another loop around you - just how long did he make it? - and as his hot breath fans your neck as he utters the one word, you shudder.

"You."

#sini writes #zhongli #genshin impact #zhongli x reader #fluff #drabble #suggestive

[multi-fandom-imagine]

Okay, since Lucifer has proposed to the nanny reader. What about Charlie being so excited when Y/N asks her if she wants to help mommy pick her dress?

Charlie probably talks to her new sibling through Y/N's bump . Lord help us if Charlie asks why the baby is in there or anything about pregnancy.

A/n: This is so cute 😩

"Charlie, would you like to come with me to pick out a dress?!"

Charlies eyes went wide, the little girl giving you a bright smile as she nodded her head quickly rushing into your arms. "Yes!yes!yes"

"Dress shopping?! I want to go!"

Turning to face Lucifer, your lips tugged into a smile as you titled your head to the side. "I was hoping for a more a mother and daughter type bonding thing and besides....isn't it bad luck for the soon to be husband to see his future bride in her wedding dress."

"Please.." Lucifer pouted clasping his hands together as he did his best to give you puppy dog eyes. Seeing her father's distress, Charlie grasped a fistful of your shirt in her tiny hands.

"Please mommy! Can daddy come too?!"

Dropping your shoulders, you gave the little girl a smile placing your hand on her cheek. "I can never say no to you Charlie."

"You look like a princess mommy!" Charlie beamed up at you.

Lucifer hummed nodding his head quickly, he couldn't take his eyes off of you. You were beautiful, breath taking, a goddess. He was practically drooling just watching you.

Smoothing out the dress you took a deep breath to stem your nerves. The bump was evident enough, so you weren't quite sure if this dress was the one. "It doesn't make me look fat."

"Nonsense!" Lucifer jumped up as he then cupped your cheeks. "You're beautiful! You're going to be glowing!"

Charlie smiled nodding her head as she kicked her feet in the chair until she jumped off making her way towards you. Her little hands placing themselves on your growing belly. "You like this dress too? Don't you? Mommy looks so pretty!"

Squealing, Charlie beamed up at you as she rubbed your belly. "See! See! The baby likes it too! Get it mommy! Get it!"

Lip's quivering, Lucifer tilted his head as he watched you both. "My little girls!" Sniffling, he made his way towards you both, pulling you two into his arms.

Charlie smiled nuzzling her face into your belly as she clutched the fabric. "Mommy...how did the baby get in your tummy?"

#drabbles #drabble #lucifer #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin lucifer #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #lucifer magne #lucifer mange x reader #lucifer x reader #lucifer x you #lucifer x y/n #lucifer morningstar x you #lucifer magne x reader #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer hazbin x reader #lucifer hazbin

[cute-sucker]

three mistakes

words: 880 tags: kook!pope x reader note: thank you @princessbrunette for reading the draft !! love u <3

when pope first met you he didn't think much.

after all he was the smartest kid in the grade, so of course you were insignificant. you may have been a scholarship kid, a nice one at that. that was your number one mistake, and there were three that you committed that first week you arrived at kook academy.

two. you were a little too sweet on him, he thought because you always smiled brightly at him, and wore those cute little skirts. last week you had given him a brownie that you said you, "made." but then you dropped the napkin and leaned down to get it for him it was the school uniform, but you sure knew how to lay it sweet.

so what? you were pretty, but pope didn't fall for that sort of thing. nah, he had seen enough pretty bimbos, and after you were new. you couldn't change anything.

three. that was until science class. it was one of his easier subject but then again what subject was hard for him? and then he was laughing to his friends, the desk pushed back, and a smirk on his face. you were sitting in front of him, head bowed down and deep in thought. you were still thinking even after the teacher had left for a few minutes.

he had a sudden thought, just a small comment might tip you off. he'd experienced this with other girls. they liked it to argue, or teasingly fight, and you were there in front of him, just waiting to be messed with.

but what to say to you? pope had to be sly with these comments, just something to make your cheeks go red without causing your smile to wilt. it was art what pope could do with his sweet mouth, and pretty soft eyes. some said that his dick was the size of his ego, and some put it a little nicer — that he was charming. but that didn't matter because when he looked at you he knew he had to say something sweet but scandalous enough to cause you to giggle. he would never admit this—but he wanted to hear your laugh.

suddenly he remembered the butterfly necklace you always had on. it was silver, and so shiny on you. he swore that there was some sort of school regulation about jelewy, but you had managed to pass by with that cute necklace. it was little dangly thing that lay before your chest. it had dainty wings, and glittery in the sun. it reminded him of you.

"y'know i always thought butterflies were like cockroaches with wings. ugly you know?" pope muttered to his friend. but he couldn't help but gesture at you in a sly moment, and his friends got it. they sniggered, and pope knew in another life he would ditch the bastards for how stupid they were. antoni was the smartest of the bunch.

it was almost as if that piqued your interest. you turned around, doe eyes wide almost as if you were shocked and taken aback.

"i think butterflies are beautiful," you whispered outraged, tightly holding onto your necklace. pope could barely keep in his laughter at your dumbstruck expression. he leaned in to take a full look at your face before looking back at his friends with a mock surprised face.

"yea' you think?" he whispered crudely. "can a dumb little bunny like you think?"

suddenly, you seemed to coil in, biting your lip, hot tears welting up in your eyes. he could see the way your hands shook beneath the desk as you furiously turned around to face him. "butterflies can see ultraviolet colors that are invisible to the human eye," you cried out.

pope found him stopping in his tracks because he swore there were tears in your eyes when you whispered out the fact. yet, he couldn't find himself to care, somehow he found himself enjoying the look on your face. almost wonderstruck, he found himself taking in your pretty face.

what he wanted to say to you was, "so what?" but he found grinning at you like you were a child.

his friends were laughing behind his back, and but he could feel the stinging sensation that what you had said had mattered a lot more than the stupid conversations that he had.

and somewhere in the middle of this, you were glaring at him, and then sniffed before turning away from him.

but he shrugged it off. what could you do anyways? huh? cry to your parents about how pope heyward couldn't take you seriously. for all you knew, if your parents did complain, the dean of kook academy probably shrug you off because pope heyward was an asset to their school. but there was something inside of him, something soft and nice said that knew he should say sorry, yet when the bell rung he watched you leave the room in a rush only leaving him with a dirty glare.

so he forgot about it. you were just another dirt poor scholorship kid? the last one had to leave because they couldn't take the academics. funny. maybe the same would happen to you.

⊹˚. ♡

you ran home crying, mascara running down your face, as you pulled your tiny skirt down. you had tried to be nice, you had tried to kind and most of all you had tried your best to be friends with everyone. goddamn it you had even given heyward a brownie! he clearly didn't like you.

what was it? what was so wrong with you that he felt the need to be mean to you? all you had done was tried. you had always tried, as your head felt empty and studied till your hands were sore from highlighting and your eyes felt bleary from scanning pages. until it all paid off and you were off to kook academy.

your cousin kiara had told you to wear your butterfly charm, and the two of you made brownies. she had yelled bye to you that first day, and now you sat next to her crying your eyes out.

"what went wrong?" she asked you quietly, as you burrowed your head into your pillow. you groaned, and shook your head furiously.

"don't wanna talk about it," you whispered looking up at her. she looked at you sternly, and you finally let out a soft sigh, "it's pope heyward," at this she rolled her eyes, tilting her head as she thought of a plan. you hoped that somehow she would find an answer - a solution to your problem

"i think you should get back at heyward. be smarter than him. that's how assholes like him work. they have crazy big egos but that's all he has. he looks wimpy to me," she scoffed looking at the previous yearbook where you had furiously crossed out pope's face.

"yeah right," you huffed at her, crossing your arms as your eyebrows were knit together. "he's ten times smarter than me."

"no, i think your underestimating yourself. just wait and see, and don't you dare lose the butterfly charm."

so you listened to her, and the next day you had little pink bows with butterfly imprints. in fact you strutted up to pope and gave him a dirty look, and you saw the way his eyes got wide before he opted for his all-knowing smirk.

"looking like a really pretty bunny. did you wear those bows for me?" he snickered, nudging his friends when he said that. you gritted your teeth and just walked the other way.

you were going to beat him. you knew you were going to. today the class was getting their results back for the major english assignments. you were hoping to get something high enough to throw in his face, and you knew you would relish the look on his face.

"class, we'll be handing out test scores now for the written passage. ," your teacher droned before stopping before your test and handing you yours with a smile. you felt happiness bloom in your heart-it had to be good right?

quickly you turned it around, and looked at the circled number. 100, a pristine number that was circled along with a "distinct voice." you felt yourself beaming, until you felt a tap on your back. it was heyward, yet he looked uneasy. he was glancing at your hidden paper.

"what did you get?"

of course he'd want to know. he'd want to know what you got so he could average it himself. after all this was your first test of the year, and he was checking if you really were the scholarship kid that could get the best grades. you found yourself smiling secretly, biting your lip.

finally he gave you a pointed look, "do i need to clarify? what did you get on your test?" he asked exasperated.

you bit your lip from beaming too hard, and shrugged in a nonchalant manner. "full marks, i guess."

"what does that mean?" he grinned, "is that a 60% for you? would make sense, bunny," he muttered, his brown eyes glinting with humour. now you would have been sadder, but instead there was a venomous bite to your speech.

"do i need to clarify? it's a hundred percent."

he shut up, glaring at you, "you're lying."

"yeah, what did you get?" you bit back.

he shook his head, "none of your business."

so that was it. you let it go and turned away looking pleased. the last went by easier, and the golden hundred was still shining in the paper. it was a triumph. a win that pope heyward understood.

it was here that pope realised that he had made one mistake.

he had underestimated you.

#pope heyward #pope heyward prompt #kook!pope #academic rivals #academic weapon #scholarshipbunny!reader #shy!reader #angst #fluff #drabble #obx fic #pope heyward x reader #pope heyward fanfiction

[steddieas-shegoes]

cw: mentions of scarring, canon-typical violence, flashback (not graphic), minor body horror (again, not graphic, mostly just emotional feelings about scars)

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Everyone gave him weird looks when they walked in, quickly schooling their features when they noticed he was awake and watching them.

He didn’t know exactly what that was about.

They had him on a lot of good drugs.

But eventually he got weaned off them, and he noticed the pull of bandages on his side, and his arm, and his neck, and his face.

He was still unable to get out of bed. Still couldn’t even reach his arms above his chest for more than a few seconds.

But he damn sure reached up to feel the cloth and plastic surrounding his cheek. How had he not noticed for days? How had no one bothered him about it?

Maybe they had and he just didn’t notice. The morphine was one hell of a drug.

Wayne was soft, patient with him. Saw him touching it, saw the way his eyes filled with tears. He’d never been particularly vain, hadn’t cared much about what he looked like to others, but this felt bigger than that. This felt like he was changed in a way that everyone could see.

Add it to the list of things people could bully him for.

He cried himself to sleep, Wayne’s hand in his, silently comforting in the way he’d always done.

When he woke up again the next morning, he was alone.

It was the first time he’d been alone since the boathouse.

He could swear he heard bats outside his door, screams coming from the attached bathroom, flashes of someone dying on the ceiling.

He felt the sharp sting of teeth puncturing his skin.

He felt hopelessness creep into his bones as he gave in.

Maybe this time they would finish the job.

“Eddie!”

Steve Harrington’s voice broke through the thoughts, panicked enough to bring Eddie back to his hospital bed within a second of hearing it.

“Shit, are you okay?” He continued, hand brushing against Eddie’s bandaged cheek.

Eddie nodded once, closed his eyes, leaned into the touch.

He could blame it on any number of things if Steve felt weird about it. The morphine, the flashback, the loneliness.

“You’re okay, Eddie. I promise. Won’t let anything happen to you,” Steve whispered.

Eddie believed him.

He fell back asleep with Steve’s hand gently cupping the mangled side of his face.

If Steve could still touch him there, then maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.

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Steve came by every day, sometimes in the early morning, before visiting hours officially started, sometimes well after Wayne had left to get some sleep. He always smiled when he walked in, a genuine one, not the one everyone else gave that was so fully of pity and pain he couldn’t bear to make eye contact. He sat down on the side of the bed, not the chair like everyone else, not scared to be close.

And every single day, without fail, he would run his finger along the edge of Eddie’s bandage on his face, watching his own movements and cataloging any changes.

Eddie sat quietly, still, scared to put words to anything happening. Scared to tell Steve what it meant to him to have someone acknowledge his pain in this way. Scared to think Steve could mean anything by it.

It was easy to pretend Steve was doing this because he cared.

Maybe he did care.

But he didn’t care the way Eddie wanted him to, needed him to.

So he stayed quiet, still.

He watched.

He fell asleep while Steve talked about his day, the kids, what Joyce made Hopper do around the house.

He woke up alone most days, but that was okay, because Steve would be there eventually.

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“You ready to get that thing off?” Wayne asked, gesturing to the bandage.

“Oh. Today?” Eddie suddenly didn’t want to ever be without the bandage. Removing it meant he’d see what was under it.

It meant seeing how much that place had ruined him.

The pull of the stitches hadn’t been as obvious with the pull of the bandage masking it.

But now it’s all he felt.

The nurse smiled at him as she put some antibiotic cream over the area, saying he would probably still have to keep it extra clean for the next week or so while the stitches did their job.

Wayne smiled at him in the way that meant he didn’t really want to smile at all, but knew Eddie needed him to.

Steve didn’t come.

Eddie didn’t sleep.

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He woke up with panic in his chest and a silent scream in his throat.

He woke up with Steve’s hand on his face.

Gentle, soft, but a strong comfort.

“Promise I washed them first. They said we have to be careful about germs,” Steve said quietly.

“You don’t have to. I know it’s…it’s gross. It’s ugly. I’m ugly.”

Steve shook his head. “No. Not gross. Not ugly. Alive.”

“Steve-“

“You’re alive, Eddie. You could have your entire face held together by staples and you would still be a miracle. You’d still be the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

Well, Steve’s charm wasn’t an exaggeration, was it?

He wasn’t even sure if the skin barely pulled together could blush anymore, or if the heat that should be on his cheek was burning on the outside the way it felt like it was on the inside.

“It’s gonna be awful when it heals. I saw it in the mirror.” Eddie could feel every stitch in his jaw, the few that spread across the corner of his mouth and bottom lip, the ones that were nearly up to his ear. “I’ll always have a crooked face. The scar will always be huge. It’s all anyone will see.”

“Then they aren’t looking.”

Eddie bit his lip, eyes searching Steve’s. “But you are.”

“No. I’m seeing. There’s a difference. I see you. I see what you’ve survived. I see the mark it left on you. I know it wasn’t just the scars that cover your skin.” Steve leaned his head down, touching Eddie’s forehead with his own. “We all have them. And we’re all still here. Your heart’s beating. That’s all that matters to me.”

“Who knew you were so good with words?” Eddie smiled sadly.

“Robin says I’m just good at not having a filter.”

“She’s right as always.” Eddie wrapped his fingers around Steve’s wrist, turning as slowly as he could to kiss his palm. “You’re not scared of it.”

“No. Are you?”

“I’m scared that you’ll change your mind when it’s always there as a reminder of what happened.”

Steve kissed his nose, making him smile for the first time in what felt like years.

“I’ll have the reminder that I got you out of there. That no matter what, the bats couldn’t finish the job. That you were stronger and you made it.” Steve let his hand drop, but quickly laced his fingers with Eddie’s. “I know it’s a lot to ask of you to trust me, but will you? For today?”

“Just today?”

“I’ll ask again tomorrow.”

“And what? Every day after that?”

Steve smirked.

His eyes were glistening with tears, but Eddie could tell it wasn’t sadness or fear.

“If that’s what I have to do.”

They hadn’t even talked about feelings, not really. Nothing that made any sense to Eddie, nothing that they could define. A part of Eddie was still convinced he was in a coma and dreaming this entire conversation up.

But even the nurse had noticed the way Steve watched him, how he touched him, how he fought for him. She said he’d been a firecracker from the moment he carried him into the hospital, dripping blood on the tile, staining the halls with his demands for help.

Wayne said he barely left his side the first day, only doing so when the doctors had told him they would call the cops if he didn’t.

Erica even noticed how things had changed between them, stating that she refused to watch her babysitter and the only DM she had respect for make out.

But Steve held Eddie, made him feel like he could get out of the hospital bed and live a life that wouldn’t keep him running. Steve was there.

Steve might even love him. If not now, then some day.

And Eddie could trust him today.

He could probably trust him tomorrow.

“Kiss me?” Eddie probably shouldn’t. The stitches tugged when he talked, and another mouth anywhere near his wounds was just asking for an infection.

But Steve would be careful. He knew what Eddie could handle.

It was barely a kiss. A graze of the lips at most.

But it was the best kiss Eddie had ever had.

At least until tomorrow.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #drabble #yall I am having thoughts about Eddie with a very large face scar and it led to this #I know people have drawn stuff before but I’m #I mean like what I am thinking is from his bottom lip across his entire jaw #to his ear and then down his neck #and it’s not remotely even or straight #very jagged when it heals because they weren’t really aiming for stitching it straight they just wanted to get it closed #also a firm believer that Steve has no filter at all and is SO GOOD at romantic declarations because of it #like he doesn’t edit anything #if he loves you you’ll know because he says I love you in all words except those at first #anyways wrote this during dessert for my besties birthday dinner so #not checking for typos hope there aren’t any lmao #if my phone autocorrected she’s probably wrong

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Man 2

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: mob!Lloyd Hansen

Summary: a demanding customer complicates more than your work life.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

A few days pass as the humiliation of your big lesson clings in the air. You think about it too much. Enough that you find yourself cringing to yourself on your bike ride home or even when lying in bed. You’ve never been the most socially adept so the encounter leaves you reeling.

As you help Bre with opening, you feel your heartbeat pick up once more. You need to chase the elephant from the room. You puff out and wet your lips as you glance over at her. She measures out grinds into the silver machine as her eyes pinpoint on the task.

“Um, so, Bre,” you approach her warily with a fresh sleeve of cups, “I wanted to ask you something.”

“Mm,” she grumbles groggily. She’s on her second coffee already and she only just got there twenty minutes ago.

“So, um, that guy, from the other day,” you rub your boiling neck, “with the mustache. You said he’s the boss. So he owns this place?”

She scoffs and rolls her eyes as she shuts the lid of the machine and turns the silver dial on the front. She shakes her head as the machine starts to brew and she plants her hand on the counter in front of it. She faces you, her other hand going to her hip.

“Mr. Hansen? Lloyd. Hansen.” She enunciates as if you should know the name.

Your lips downturn and you shrug, “is that his name?”

“Are you new in town?” She asks hotly.

You nod, “yeah, actually. I used to live about forty minutes out of town but there was nothing there--”

“It shows,” she retorts, “he owns this shop, he owns the street outside, he owns me, he owns you. He owns this city. Got it?”

You hum and nod as you look thoughtfully to the ceiling, “not really. But he’s important, got it.”

“Just if he comes back in, come get me and say as little as you can. And please, for the love of god, do not ask him for money,” she snips.

“Oh, alright,” you deflate, “I didn’t know--”

“Now you do. Just trust me when I tell you, you don’t want to fuck around with him. If he tells you to pour boiling water on yourself, you’re better off just doing it,” she sneers.

You wince, “okay, sorry, Bre, I was just asking.”

“You ask too many questions,” she turns and goes into the backroom. She returns, dangling a keyring from her finger, “open up. It’s time.”

You take the key and go to unlock the door and flip on the sign. You retreat back behind the counter, swallowed up by the tension between you. You regret asking. You thought it might help clear the air but now you can barely breathe.

When the first customer enters, you volunteer to help them. Bre just mutters and slurps from her coffee. She might have less of a headache if she takes it easy on the caffeine. You don’t say as much to her, nothing really at all as you work through order after order.

She hops onto prep as you man the till while the queue grows. The morning rush is in full effect as you slide baked goods into little paper sleeves and hand them over before sending customers down to the window to wait for their drinks. The hectic flow helps you forget about the awkward start.

When at last the crowd trickles down and the cafe hums with voices sitting at the tables, you have a moment to catch your breath and center yourself. You like this job, it’s just like your last one, but the company isn’t as pleasant. Bre taps her thumb on her phone screen and ignores you.

The ebbs come with hide tides and soon lunch has you scrambling once more. The smell of toasted bread and cinnamon has your stomach grumbling. You’re too busy to let the emptiness bother you for long. When high noon influx subsides, Bre yawns.

“Lunch,” she announces, “I’m going to head down to Tabitha’s. They’re having a clearance sale.”

“Oh, alright,” you agree, not mentioning that she said earlier you could go first, “I’ll be here.”

She doesn’t respond as she disappears into the back to get her things. You hear her leave through the side door that leads through to the alley. You sigh out and watch the sit-in customers on their laptops or chatting with friends.

You resist the temptation of the tarts staring at you from the display. You can hold out until it’s your turn. The door jingles and a new customer enters. You’re too fixated on the painting of a latte to glance over. Not until you sense the sudden shift in the air. Several people quiet and pack up to go.

Footfalls scuff across the floor and customers leave their unfinished drinks on the table as they hurry for the door. You peer around then at the approaching shadow. It’s him. Oh no. Bre isn’t here.

“Um, hello, Mr. Hensen,” you smile shakily, “how are you?”

He stares at you as he comes to stand across the till from you. His blue eyes darken as he lets a long exhale out through his nose. You gulp and your cheeks tremble. He tilts his head and arches a brow.

“Hansen,” he corrects.

“Right, Floyd Hansen, I remember--”

“Lloyd,” he hits his fist on the counter and you gasp. “Lloyd fucking Hansen.” He leans forward and bares his teeth, “get that through that thick fucking skull.” He reaches for you, grabbing the front of your shirt, “you won’t forget who I am.”

“I’m s-sorry, I’m bad with names--”

“Shut up,” he twists the fabric until it strains against the back of your neck, “if you weren’t so goddamn pathetic, I’d drag you across this counter.”

Your eyes round and you bat your lashes. He’s only an inch away from you. You shiver as he opens his hand and presses the vee of his index and thumb to your throat. You’re frozen, terrified. Who is this man?

“Get me my fucking coffee,” he squeezes then shoves you so you choke.

You stumble back and bring your hand to your neck. You nod, eyes glittering with unspent tears, and look around. You can’t remember what he ordered. You’ll just have to make something up. Or maybe you could just sneak out like Bre...

#the man #lloyd hansen #dark lloyd hansen #dark!lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #the gray man #drabble #series #au #mob au