#i wrote this instead of sleeping

[0bticeo]

welcome to the show!

summary: vox sends you as a spy to the hazbin hotel. alastor decides to give him a show.

tw: voyeurism, biting, blood play, fingering, valentino mentioned. english isn't my mother tongue.

you're thrown in hell - quite literally. the fall from purgatory and its beasts was long, arduous, and painful.

you've led an ordinary life. woken up. worked. slept. repeatead. same old decaying matter as everything else. you didn't think too much of it, of course not. you were twenty something and rising slowly, steadily in your company as an esteemed lawyer. memento mori didn't ring a bell. maybe it should've.

now you're in hell, and you're burning with sheer, unbridled rage, because how dare they throw you in there? (you're all in hell for a reason. all of you, fangs and bad intentions bare to the world.)

you take up your old job at vox tech. lawyer for a corrupt company. old habits die harder than you do. there, there's the thrill of probing the opposing companies and sinking your fangs into them, corrupt little fox with a too wide smile on your face.

what you gather is this: velvette's sense of fashion involves too much purple, valentino is the embodiment of everything you hate and vox... vox is obsessed with the radio demon. he's disappeared not too long after being asked to join the vees. you'd know, you're the one who wrote the contract he refused to sign. bastard.

could've been fine, really. but they work you to the bone and treat you as little less than a glorified secretary. when valentino throws the cup of coffee you brought him to a board meeting with the other executives of the company, you slam the door on your way out and don't look back.

it goes like this: you've been in hell for a while, and you're done playing the part of the sinner. so you tell charlie morningstar when she greets you at the hazbin hotel.

she accepts you, welcomes you with, out of all things, a song. too much trouble for dear old you.

"nonsense! everyone deserves to be given their rightful importance!"

that one hit close home.

you don't have the time to thank her before she's introducing you to the staff and the rest of the hotel.

vaggie, staring you down with a suspicious eye, fingers itching to reach for her spear. ah. an angel. fascinating.

angel dust. you have to thank him for being here. after you murder him for calling you an enticing little vixen and winking at you.

husker. former overlord. sold his soul to the radio demon in a bad game of poker.

your hair stand at the back of your neck. static crackles in the air. your ear twitches. alastor's entered the game.

"alastor, it's a pleasure to meet you, quite the pleasure my dear!"

he brings your gloved hand to his lips. even through the thin leather, you can feel the warmth of his breath, the press of his teeth like a warning.

his grin deepens when you introduce yourself in turn. a glimmer of recognition flashes in his eye.

shit.

**

you've always liked to cook. there's something about the glimmering edge of a knife cutting thin slices of meat that appeases you. tonight, you crave some rabbit.

somewhere in the kitchen, the clock ticks the minutes away, time bleeding out. doesn't matter when you have eternity to atone for your sins. 

the watch at your wrist flashes. 2:37. of course, insomnia had to follow you down to hell. it served you at voxtech, back when you were pouring over contracts and meaningless paperwork.

you make your way towards the fridge, hoping to god you'll find something to satiate your appetite.

"ah, feeling peckish my dear?"

you startle.

alastor.

you turn, back facing the counter, resisting the urge to bare your fangs. there he is, slithering out of darkness, a spectre in red. you wonder if it's a reminder of the blood he's shed.

"what do you want?" you snarl.

he laughs, static buzzing in your ears. you blink. when your eyes open, he's inches away from your face, craning your neck towards him - he's tall, that fucker.

"why so aggressive, little vixen?"

his fingers dip down your shoulder, down your arm, until they close on your wrist. his teeth press against the bracelet of your watch, scraping the skin beneath, drawing a drop of blood. the screen glows, a faint blue light in the penumbra of the kitchen.

your breath catches in your throat. he's gorgeous, blue light draped over his hair like threads of moonlight.

he hums, the vibration settling low in your gut.

"i just want a little taste..."

you shiver at that. at the way he looks at you like he wants to devour you, consume you whole. at the way his tongue presses on the cut, lapping at the blood. you tense, biting back a soft, needy little sound.

his leg pushes your thighs apart. you don't realise you've been humping against the warmth of him until his hand settles on your hip, claws digging into your skin hard enough to draw blood.

"behave, little spy."

you laugh at that, baring your throat.

"was it really that obvious?"

he hums, clawed finger trailing down the column of your flesh, pressing against the jugular. he can feel your pulse, staccato little thing beating wildly as you look up at him, lips parted with want.

his smile stretches, impossibly wide.

"vox wouldn't have let his precious little lawyer go." his claws tap against your watch. "and i'd be a fool not to get a taste."

he kisses you. he kisses you, teeth nipping at your mouth until you can feel static against your tongue, until you arch your back against him. you whine, claws digging in his shirt, eager for more. of course, he pulls away. bastard.

"patience, my dear. all good things come to those who wait."

you scoff.

"because seven years and s'more weren't enough?"

a pause. his lips trail down your throat.

"i suppose that's fair."

he bites you, teeth sinking at the junction of your throat and shoulder. you keen, a breathless moan of his name as you feel him grind against you. you shouldn't let this happen. shouldn't revel in the warmth of him, body going limp in his grasp. shouldn't drag his hand towards your aching core, let him press his fingers against your slit and chuckle at how wet you are. you can't let him finger you on the kitchen's counter, can't mewl like a wanton whore.

you do.

you do, his name like a prayer on your lips, hips stuttering, desperate for release. you feel him against you, lapping at your flesh like a starved hound. when he lets you go, there's a spider-web thin string of blood connecting him to your shoulder.

the sight of him takes your breath away.

there he is, eyes half lidded, looking at you. there he is, blood, your blood, dripping down his lips, his chin.

he leans closer, watching you, the way your shiver at his every touch, as his free hand digs in the tender skin of your breast and sinks into the flesh.

oh.

something snaps in you - you're on fire, head thrown back in a silent cry of his name.

on your wrist, the watch flashes blue. alastor grasps your wrist in his hand, bringing it up. it's easy for vox to see you. you, disheveled, red fur a mess of sweat and blood, panting, cheek pressed against alastor's chest. you, nightgown hiked up to your hips. you, legs wrapped around alastor's waist, teeth sinking into the meat of his shoulder to muffle your moans as he drills his cock into you.

vox groans at the sight, pants growing too tight.

the radio demon smiles.

"hope you enjoyed the show, old pal!"

#obticeo writes #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x y/n #hazbin hotel x you #alastor x y/n #alastor x you #alastor smut #hazbin hotel smut #i wrote this instead of sleeping #alastor what are you doing to me my god #stop

[gauloiseblue]

[TW: rape, non-con, dark]

There's something about stray dog's behavior that speaks König to me.

He'd been kicked around, ridiculed, and left on the cold pavement alone. He had no real house, and had to beg even for a scrap of food. Those were the factors that forced him to grow teeth way earlier—and sharper—than he's supposed to.

He'd held the bitterness in his heart, causing him to despise the weak, the poor who couldn't stand up for themselves. The perfect replica of his past self.

He hated seeing them, he'd even go as far as 'taking care' of them. Letting them know that no one would help them, no one would come to the rescue. Just like what people did to him back then.

He recognizes his contribution to the vicious circle, yet he finds himself helpless as he's unable to break free from it.

Perhaps that's when God decided to punish him for it.

There's a mission that required him to work together with the other team, and met with the reprisal for his bad deed, in the form of a medic.

He didn't spare a glance at her, didn't acknowledge her existence, until she defended her patients in front of him.

One of the missions went wrong, causing the soldiers to be injured by gunshots and a grenade. It was theirs to blame, because they didn't pay attention enough, but she shouted at him, telling him if he'd given them a deserved break, it would've been avoided.

He, of course, was angry at her.

He told her she didn't know anything, that she's hindering the mission. But she didn't flinch, even when he growled at her.

It frustrated him, because even his glare would send his soldiers running. Yet it didn't work on her. The people who's not afraid of him are usually those in power, but she isn't one of them. She's just a mere medic.

He tried to kick her out of the team, but the higher ups told him that there's no one available for her replacement. He also tried to make her quit, but what he did came back around to him, as he received a penalty.

It stresses him out, to the point that he'd overwork himself to distract him from his thoughts.

One day, a bullet passes through his heart and lungs, causing him to collapse on the spot.

In daze, when his consciousness slips in and out, he thinks how he could've easily avoided it. But his body wasn't listening to him, delaying his feet to move back.

In what feels like months, he opens his eyes for the first time after the incident.

What he sees, is a pale light on the ceiling, and a blurry figure by the bed.

And there she stands, just like the angel of mercy.

She doesn't say much, except for telling him to rest, and that he's lucky he survived.

She tells him the same thing for days, before he can muster two words out of his mouth.

Shut up.

And strangely, she smiles.

"Seems like you've recovered well." She responded, "Welcome back."

She continues to nurse him, despite his snarky remarks that she easily deflects. She takes care of him with patience that should've withered away from the moment she joined the army.

It shouldn't have bloomed in front of him.

For the first time in his life, he feels the weight of his guilt on his chest. He could've been kinder, could've been softer, and he would've broken the cycle just like she did. But he chose to nurture his anger—just like his father, and his father's father.

Then again, she could've gotten it easy from the start. Though in his heart, he knew it's just an excuse for his behavior.

The day he's permitted to work again, he left without saying thank you.

At night, he wonders if she'd come to hate him as well. No one would blame her if she does, but deep in his heart, he hopes she doesn't.

Since that day, he has followed her like a lost dog. But he would turn his head away whenever she looked at him.

Sometimes he scoffs at himself for thinking about injuring himself, just so he could receive her care. Yet he couldn't help but panting at her feet, lapping up every little conversation they made. He wants to surrender himself to her, letting her put a collar around him and call him hers.

And it's all because she showed just a little kindness to him.

On lonely missions, or lonely nights, he often imagines what they could be. Living in the suburbs, white fences, and kids. The picture perfect of the marriage.

Until it all shatters on the ground.

It's not his intention to eavesdrop, but he couldn't help but lean in when he hears her voice. She sounds happier, as she shows her friend the ring on her finger.

So he bares his teeth,

And bites.

(One time, her uncle had to put down their dog

Because he bit his children for no reason—

Other than jealousy

He heard the dog whined

on the cold table,

alone, and scared

As the vet slowly pushed the poison

Into his bloodstream

And God, how cruel is it

To put a heart inside of a beast

When all his life

He only knew

How to bite?)

He pants as he presses himself into her, causing her to whimper, as her voice is long gone from screaming and crying.

She must've had no idea of what's coming to her when he called her to his office. The scratches and bruises on his body were enough proof of her gullibility, that she came to him, unassumingly, and trusting.

He had her bent over his desk, smothering her easily with his body as he forced himself into her. She was a fighter, but not strong enough to defeat him.

He had lost his inhibitions, as his back arched for the eighth time, spilling his seeds into her.

And she's lost as well, as her eyes were unfocused, and all her energy had been zapped from her body.

"Leave him." He said, as he drove himself into her once again.

She lets out a high-pitched moan when his cock stretches her open again, filling the room with sticky sounds.

"Leave him and love me instead." He said for the second time, and she cried in pain when he buried himself too deep.

"Love me," He sobbed as he pulled the ring out of her finger, knowing fully well he couldn't replace it without twisting her arm. "Please love me."

Her tears flood her cheeks as she watches him discard the ring from her, before latching his mouth onto her shoulder. Marking her with another bite, drawing yet another blood with his teeth.

He knew she had closed her heart the moment he slammed her on the table. He knew she wouldn't come to love him. But if he's not loved by her, then no one should.

#i wrote this instead of sleeping #i don't know why i wrote this #tw noncon #konig x reader #call of duty #cod #cod mw2 #stray dog behavior as a metaphor of monstrous love #könig x reader #könig cod #i feel like konig is so angst coded that I can't think of happy fics whenever I think of him #or yandere coded #whatever #you get the point

[evanpeterswhoresblog]

Linger

Sirius Black x rockstar! f!reader

warnings: smut, p in v, rough sex, like pretty rough guys he bites you till you bleed, underage drinking, underage smoking, a lot of smoking tbh, drunkish sex, kinda has a plot so yeah lmk if i missed anything

summary: you and your band mates decide to go out to a pub, where you end up meeting the most handsome boy you’ve ever seen.

word count: 4.2k

a/n: guys i’m so bad at these summaries holy. this is probably my favorite fic i’ve written. the flirting and the tension like omg. trust me. also, let’s pretend The Runaways are british and let’s pretend everything id accurate hahaha. enjoy ;)

~~~

“Do you think we’ll be recognized tonight?”

You turn to your bandmate, Joan, and shrug. “It’s fifty-fifty.”

“What pub are we going to again?” She asks.

“The one where they let underage people in, of course, you’re still the only one who’s twenty-one in the band you know,” you reply.

The other two members of your band, Sandy and Lita, are ahead of you, engulfed in their own conversation. You slide your hands into the pockets of your jacket and try to keep up. You’ve been in the band for a few months as the new lead singer. Their old one left to start her own band, claiming it to be more successful. Yet your band is the one that’s gotten sold-out shows, interviews on television, and pictures in magazines. Sometimes you like to think it was fate that she left, and you just so happened to be in town the night they were holding auditions. The fans surely enjoy your voice more, they make you out to be the leader even though you’re only seventeen and the newest member. You don’t mind though, and neither do your bandmates.

It’s almost ten when you arrive at the pub and thankfully no one has recognized you yet, or they have and simply haven’t said anything. There’s no one at the door to check IDs just like Sandy had said. The four of you enter fast and find a table. The music is loud, the lights are low, and people are dancing all over. You like it, a lot.

“Drinks?” Lita questions a few seconds after you sit.

“You know it!” Joan replies.

“I’ll be right back then.”

Sandy takes out a pack of cigarettes. “Care for one?”

“Obviously,” you answer, holding your hand out. She hands you one, you’re quick to light it and stick it between your lips, inhaling a deep breath of smoke. “How come the police haven’t found this place?”

Joan rolls her eyes. “They have.”

“And? Why don’t they shut it down?”

“They have people who come here, of course, sons, daughters, you know that sort of thing. It may be illegal but it’s trustworthy,” she explains. “Why do you care anyway?”

You shrug. “Just curious I suppose.”

Lita arrives back at the table, four glasses held in her arms. You take yours fast, eager to taste whatever liquor she got for you. It’s bitter, with a hint of sweetness in it. Based on the color as well, your guess is some sort of vodka mix. You drink it despite the awful aftertaste it leaves in your mouth. The cigarette between your fingers helps a bit. The four of you talk for a while and enjoy the peace of having no fans around.

“You should go to the bar y/n,” Lita says after some time. “Or well it might be too late now, but when I was there, I saw a boy your age, remarkably handsome.”

Sandy laughs. “You’re trying to send her home with someone already?”

Lita nudges the other girl with her shoulder. “No, I’m only trying to get some new song material.”

“We’ll see if there’s any potential,” you say, taking the last sip of your drink and getting up. You brush down your hair. “Do I look alright?”

“You’re always beautiful,” Joan answers, letting out a cloud of smoke.

“Wish me luck.” You chuckle before heading to the bar.

With every step you take, you feel eyes on you. Most belong to older men who shouldn’t even be paying you any mind. You’re used to the feeling of being watched, with all the fans and paparazzi that corner you before and after gigs. So, you move through the pub without a second thought about it.

In the back of your head, you curse yourself for not asking Lita what the guy looks like. For a moment you question how you’re supposed to find him, but then your curious eyes find one guy who stands out. He’s leaning on the wall, a glass in his hand and a cigarette between his lips. Based on his face, you figure he can’t be more than nineteen. And oh, how right Lita was. His hair is dark and long, almost reaching his shoulders. He’s dressed in a simple white tee shirt and baggy jeans. Despite the distance, you swear you can make out a sliver of a tattoo on his shoulder. He’s gorgeous, almost too gorgeous.

You approach him carefully, thinking of different opening lines in your head. Would it be wrong to use your fame to get him to take you home? Probably. But you’ve seen Joan do it plenty of times. She always says it’s simply a tool and that you should use it to your advantage. You’ve never done it though. Perhaps it’s your little amount of consciousness that remains that tells you it’s wrong. You don’t know and the alcohol in your system doesn’t help. So, when you reach him, you say the first thing that comes to mind.

“Hi.”

He looks at you, the cigarette dangling between his lips. “Hello.”

“How old are you?” You ask, immediately feeling stupid for such a question.

“What are you a cop?” He chuckles.

You feel your cheeks heat up. “No uh... sorry.”

“It’s fine love, just not a very good pick-up line,” he replies. He takes his cigarette out, his eyes locked on yours. “Especially since you look like you’re sixteen.”

“Seventeen actually.” You correct him.

“Ah, well there’s something we share then.”

Something about the way he’s looking at you comforts you. There’s no recognition in his eyes at all. You can tell. To him, you are just another girl. Not the lead singer of The Runaways. Just a simple girl.

“You can try again if you’d like,” he says. You look at him, confused. “Try another pick-up line.”

You gently smile and think for a few seconds. Nothing better comes to mind.

“Come here often?”

He laughs. “Somehow I think that was worse than the first one.”

“Sorry. Usually, I’m better at this sort of thing,” you reply. You put your hands back in your pockets, suddenly feeling very hot with embarrassment.

“Don’t be sorry, it’s cute.”

There’s a moment of silence. He takes a sip of his drink; you stare at his hand. The way it looks wrapped around the glass makes your stomach fill with butterflies. You hate how much you want him to take you home. You don’t even know his name. But he’s handsome, so much so it makes you unable to think straight. You need to know more.

“Are you from around here?”

He nods. “Born and raised in London. You?”

For a split second you wonder, if he’s from London how come he doesn’t know who you are? Sure, your band isn’t on the same level of success as Queen or ACDC but you’re also not underground. You push the thought away.

“Originally from Westchester but now I’m here in London for... work,” you answer.

“Work? I thought you were seventeen.”

“Yes but, eighteen next month. I already finished school.”

He takes another drag of his cigarette. “Wish I could say the same, I still have another year left. Though, I rather enjoy school, gets me away from my dear parents.”

“Oh, where do you go?”

You notice the way he shifts his posture. “Out of the country, you wouldn’t know of it.”

“Like a boarding school?”

“I suppose you could say that.”

You look around the pub, a slight feeling of awkwardness blooming within you. You don’t know why you’re so nervous. You’ve done this before. You decide to blame it on the cheap vodka because really, you’re better than this.

“So, what’s your name then?” You ask after a few more minutes.

“Does it really matter?” He replies, catching you a bit off guard. He flicks the ash off his cigarette, his dark eyes on yours. “All of it’s the same.”

“I don’t know what you’re referring to,” you say, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Don’t play dumb love, I know this isn’t your first time. I’m sure you’ve chatted up many other lads and had them take you home.” There’s something about the tone in which he speaks that has your knees almost wobble.

“Why would you think that?”

He sighs, leaning over to a small table discards his cigarette in an ashtray, and leaves his glass. When he leans back on the wall, now with both of his hands-free, he buries them in the pockets of his baggy jeans. He looks down at you with an expression that could send your morals far out of mind. You want him, terribly. And you think he knows this.

“Besides the fact that you said you’re usually better at this, you’re also possibly the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen,” he eventually answers.

You can’t help but roll your eyes. “I highly doubt that, but nevertheless thanks for the compliment.”

“I mean it. Most girls I see still wear those long skirts and sweaters, but you, you’re dressed like you could pass as a rock star.”

Your face heats up once again. You know he’s right. With your leather jacket, flared jeans, high-heeled boots, and small tight top you know it’s clear what kind of person you are. Your makeup only adds to it, black smudged eyeliner and glitter on your eyes. It’s a toned-down version of what you wear on stage. He doesn’t need to know that though.

You give him a smile and shrug. “Rock is my favorite genre, what can I say? You sort of got that look too though, not quite as intense.”

“Not a gentleman?” He chuckles.

“No.” You laugh, shaking your head. “At least I hope not.”

“I see. You don’t fancy the good boys. Well fortunately for you, I’m a bit of a troublemaker. At least, that’s what my schoolmates and family say,” he mentions. “What’s wrong with the good boys anyway? They could treat you like a lady.”

“Too gentle, I’m not a fan of it,” you answer honestly.

He smirks, sending warmth straight to your core. “So is your intention to get me out of here and treat you... not gently?”

“My intention is simply to buy you another drink, maybe enjoy a dance or two. What happens at the end of the night is not particularly on my mind right now. I’m more focused on learning your name. Why? Is that what you’d fancy?” You counter, looking up at him through your long lashes.

It has the effect you hoped for because he stands up straight, his back finally off the wall. He offers his hand to you, and you take it softly in yours. It’s so much bigger, so much warmer. You try your hardest to kill all the thoughts of where else you’d like him to touch you with his hand.

“Sirius Black,” he introduces himself.

“Like the star?” You question without thinking.

“Yes, like the star. Now what’s your name.”

“Y/n y/l/n,” you say.

“Charmed. So, how about that drink?”

You smile. It’s going to be a good night, you know it.

The next few hours go by in a flash. You and Sirius drink more than you probably should and dance to the many different songs that play on the jut box. A few different times throughout the night you find the eyes of your bandmates, each of them giving you big smiles and thumbs up as they watch you with Sirius. At one point Joan makes a lewd hand gesture, and you barely get a chance to see Lita smack her. It’s past twelve when you find yourself outside the pub with Sirius sitting on a curb sharing a cigarette.

“I hate these bloody shoes,” you mumble as you dig your heel into the pavement. “They make my feet sore.”

“Then why do you wear them?” Sirius asks, amusement evident in his tone.

You exhale a long breath of smoke, passing the half-burnt cigarette back to him. “I dunno. Beauty is pain.”

“For some, but I’m sure even without those things you’re just as pretty. Actually, I would bet pounds on that being true,” he replies.

“I think I’m rather plain without all this. Would you think the same of me without my makeup and outfit?”

You watch him smirk. “I should think you look even prettier without all of that on. Especially the clothes.”

Your stomach fills with butterflies for the thousandth time tonight. Your shyness left hours ago when you took your first shot. So, instead of simply blushing and looking away, you stand and look down at him with your own smirk.

“Quite the charmer. How about you find come back to mine and find out for yourself?”

He takes one last drag of the cigarette before standing, flicking it to the pavement, and crushing it beneath his sneaker. You watch helplessly as he releases a cloud of smoke, his hand now held out to you.

“I’d quite like that. Lead the way.”

~~~

You don’t know how you keep your composure the whole way home, especially with Sirius’s hand handing yours the entire time. On the train, as you sit, your head on his shoulder, he rubs his thumb across your knuckles. It’s a gesture that makes you glad you aren’t standing because your legs feel like jelly. And on the walk up to your apartment, he lets go of your hand and instead places it on the small of your back. You almost fall down the stairs at the contact.

Once you’re inside you immediately take off your boots, leaving them somewhere by the front door. Your jacket follows, only it’s hung on one of your kitchen chairs. When you turn to look at Sirius you find his eyes wandering all over your apartment, examining the details you assume. His sneakers are off, his hands are in his pockets.

“You must have a special job, this place is wonderful,” he says.

“My mates help me with the money, it’s not all mine,” you reply. It’s true, they do help you earn money from performing. You step closer to him, your hands behind your back. “And it’s really not that big. One bedroom, one bathroom, and one very tiny living room combined with the kitchen. But it’s more than enough for me. Would you like the tour?”

“Of course, if the tour starts in your bedroom.”

You can’t help the blush that takes over your face. “Follow me.”

The walk is fast, with every step you feel your heart rate increase. You’ve done this a few times, but for some reason, this time feels different. Perhaps it’s because all the other guys can’t compare to Sirius’s beauty in the slightest. Or perhaps it’s because you already like him a bit more than you should for a one-nighter. You don’t know. And you don’t care to know because you’re about to reach your door.

You open the door fast, letting him in first, and closing it behind you. It’s dark, the only lights coming from outside your small window. You don’t reach for the lights though. Instead, you step closer to the boy, the sound of your breathing suddenly far too loud for your liking. His silhouette moves closer to you as well. It’s almost like there’s an invisible force pushing the two of you together, and you find yourself liking it.

He touches you first. One of his hands finds your waist, he guides you to him faster. Soon enough, you’re practically pressed against him. You can barely breathe from the proximity. You’ve never felt something this intense. You look up at him, your bottom lip between your teeth.

“Still want me to not be gentle?” He asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I want you to ruin me,” you say, pressing one of your hands to his chest. You’re happy to find his heart is racing just like yours. “Don’t hold back.”

“Alright.”

Before you can even think of another thought, his lips are on yours. You kiss back instantaneously, your hand moving up into his hair. It’s soft, like you expected. He’s far from gentle with his kissing, and you’re glad. His lips move fast on yours, his teeth scraping your tongue. He bites down on your lip so hard you whimper, and the metallic taste of your blood clouds your senses.

Still, despite the pain, when he pulls back you almost whine from the loss of contact. But his hands move fast to pull your shirt up. You help him get it off, then move to his. Through the darkness, you can see the few tattoos he has on his chest and shoulder. They’re dark, they’re beautiful. You run your fingertips over them as he leans back down and connects your lips once again. You begin to guide the two of you towards your bed.

When the back of your knees hit the mattress, you allow yourself to fall back onto it. Sirius doesn’t follow you though. Instead, he stands between your legs at the foot of the bed and begins to undo the buttons of your jeans. You watch in awe, lifting your hips to help him drag them down your legs, leaving you only in your bra and panties. You sit up, your eyes on him, as you start undoing his belt.

After his jeans are on the floor he pushes you back down on the mattress, climbing over you this time. You kiss him deeply, dragging one of your hands down his warm back, and weaving the other through his hair. That warmth deep inside you has grown, consuming you entirely. You can feel the wetness between your legs, surely staining your panties. You’ve never been so turned on by a guy in your life.

He suddenly parts your kiss, his lips beginning to move down your jaw and neck. You moan, throwing your head back to give him more access. When he bites down on you, so hard you can feel a stinging from it breaking skin, you pull at his hair, sounds of pleasure escaping your swollen lips.

Eventually, after leaving many hickeys and bite marks on your neck, he pulls back entirely and flips you over onto your stomach. You smirk against the mattress as you feel him unclip your bra. To help get it off, you lift yourself on your hands, and the straps quickly fall. You throw it off without even thinking about it. You’re about to turn back but Sirius presses a hand between your shoulder blades, silently telling you to stay as you are. You don’t hesitate to comply.

You feel him move and instinctively you lift your hips in the air. He places a kiss on your back, it almost makes you shiver. Then his hands are on your hips, pulling your last piece of clothing off. You normally would feel some sense of vulnerability at this point. Completely naked with your ass in the air. But the alcohol mixed with the utter need you have for Sirius takes control. You feel him shift.

“Do you have a rubber?” The sound of his voice makes you squeeze your legs together.

“Unless you have a disease, you don’t need one. I’m on birth control,” you answer, looking over your shoulder at him.

“No diseases I swear,” he says.

“Then proceed.”

You get up properly on all fours, the anticipation killing you. When he positions his tip at your entrance, you inhale sharply. He rubs his cock through your wet folds for a few seconds, brushing against your clit ever so slightly, before thrusting inside you in one quick, hard motion. You can’t help the moan that leaves you. He’s big, stretching you in a way that’s on the brink of being painful. It’s perfect.

He fucks you hard, very hard. Each thrust hits that spot inside you that makes your legs shake. At one point, your arms give out and your face presses against the mattress. Your hands twist in the sheets, your moans muffled by the bed. Sirius doesn’t like this. He twists one of his hands in your hair and pulls you up, the pain only adding to the building of your orgasm.

“Sirius,” you gasp. “Fuck Sirius.”

He’s relentless. He fucks you through your first orgasm, not faltering for even a second. He only stops when you can’t hold yourself up anymore, pulling out and flipping you onto your back. You scratch your nails down his back as he begins to fuck you in missionary, your lips on his.

You don’t know how long passes by the time he tells you he’s close. What you do know is that your second orgasm is not far either. With tears in your eyes, you let him switch positions once again, this time you’re on top of him. Your muscles are weak and sore, but that doesn’t stop you from riding him as well as you can. Sweat covers your body, and incoherent words drip off your lips. You can barely take it anymore.

“I-I’m almost there,” you mumble.

“Me too love,” Sirius replies, his breath ragged. “Finish us both off.”

You struggle to hold yourself up, a tear rolling down your cheek. “I don’t know if I can.”

“You can, just a few more minutes,” he assures you, running one of his hands through your hair.

Much to his word, in a few minutes, he finishes. Hard. He moans your name in an indescribable tone, and his cock pulses inside you so intently, it causes your second orgasm to occur. As this happens, you lie on his chest, both of your breathing very uneven. He holds you tight against him.

Eventually, you roll off him and stare at your ceiling. You try to comprehend what just happened. Never in your life have you experienced something so intense. Most of the time when you told guys to be rough with you, they’d be turned off. But Sirius... You turn to your side to face him.

“Want a smoke?”

“Certainly.”

~~~

It’s safe to say, you don’t let him go all summer. You spend every second you can with him. Most of the time in your sheets, but a good amount doing other things. You paint his nails black, teach him how to wear eyeliner, and how to dress more like yourself. You enjoy every second you get with him.

He never does discover your fame, at least he never says so. You think he would know. Each time you go out you try your hardest to be unnoticeable and you always hide away magazines and switch the channel whenever something about your band is shown. But he never does say anything. Sometimes at night, you sing to him softly and you always laugh when he tells you that you should take it professionally.

You learn how much he hates his family, except for his little brother. You learn he loves Queen and David Bowie. You learn his favorite color is ironically black. You learn as much about him as you can and with each fact you do learn, you only fall more for him. But you never speak of it. You know the inevitable ending.

On the night before he goes back to school, the two of you lay in your bed, a thick silence between you. As usual, you pass a cigarette back and forth. Only this time, there are no words accompanying. Until he speaks.

“For once, I’m not looking forward to going back.”

You turn to your stomach and look at him. “I wish you didn’t have to go.”

“Me either,” he agrees. He holds the cigarette to you; you take it fast. “I can phone you if you want. You know, while I’m there. Or send letters.”

“Do you think that’s a good idea?” You question.

“I think I really fancy you, and I don’t want to leave on a bad note.”

You give him a weak smile and press a kiss on his bare shoulder. “Oh, Sirius.”

~~~

A few months later...

“Five minutes till show time,” an assistant tells you.

You’re sitting in your dressing room backstage. Joan, Sandy, and Lita all have their own space now. You find it funny how much The Runaways have blown up since the summer. Now, everywhere you turn you see yourself in a magazine or a news article. You can’t go anywhere without being recognized, or without the paparazzi showing up.

As you look in the mirror your mind travels back to Sirius. This happens a lot. Right before a concert, you think of him. Sometimes you wonder if maybe he’s out there listening. You haven’t heard from him since he went to school. You aren’t angry, only a bit sad. You’re mostly grateful though. He inspired most of the songs in your number-one album that got the band all the new attention.

You stand from the vanity and sigh. Tonight, your performance is being televised worldwide. Beside the door is your guitar, you pick it up as you begin your journey out to the stage. You’ve got a good lineup, even a small intermission for a happy birthday song. You hope wherever he is he hears it.

After all, it is November 3rd.

#fanfiction #sirius x you #i love smut #sirius black smut #smut #harry potter fanfiction #sirius black #sirius x reader #sirius being sirius #harry potter fandom #marauders fandom #marauders fanfiction #marauders era #the runaways #fanfictions #i wrote this instead of sleeping #smutty #smoking #smut prompts #i love this so much #my favorite #sirius black is a little shit #flirting #sirius black being a flirt #fanfiction is life #i am smut writing rn #best writing ever #marauders #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #summer love

[jealousjersey]

• mike schmidt hc’s🏹 •

contains: fluff and smut

mentions: fingering, eating out, switch!mike, perv!mike

🏹 mike whines until you give him permission to eat your pussy. mike would spend days straight just eating out your sweet cunt if he could.

🏹 mike loves the sound of you moaning in his mouth while he fingers you. he prefers to keep kissing to feel your jaw slack with pleasure.

🏹 mikes job is stressful, but he just looks at the sexy polaroid of you in that lacy pink bra you snuck in his wallet and just sighs with a grin on his face. knowing you’re his.

🏹 mike enjoys pleasuring you more than he enjoys getting off. hearing you moan his name makes him nearly cum in his pants.

🏹 mike takes aftercare very seriously. he would rather die than not have you cleaned up and comfortable in bed with him while cuddling up next to you and reassuring how good you were.

🏹 mike is a big fan of pda, especially when someone is hitting on you or trying to get your number. his favorite move is to wrap his hand around your waist and pull you in closer. you always get butterflies when he does this.

🏹 mike would fight for you. when the fight in the mall happened, he’s been known to intimidate men who approach you. he likes that he’s thought of as a fighter, and even more that people would back away from you because of it

🏹 mike does what he can for you and abby to live a stable life, although this comes with the risk of him working himself out. he won’t let you pick up a job to help out though, he’s very clear about that.

🏹 mike is mostly dominate in bed, but as soon as you edge and tease him he whines and begs for you to keep going and to let him finish. it’s almost funny how he can change so fast.

🏹 mike cracks jokes just to hear you laugh, he thinks your laugh and smile is the sexist thing about you.

🏹 mike is kinda a perv, looking for any excuse to look under your little skirt, any excuse to look down your shirt to see your perfect tits, any excuse to watch you change clothes.

#jersey writes #perv!mikeschmidt #five nights at freddy's #josh hutcherson #mike schmidt x reader smut #mike shmidt #jersey tries not to go insane contest #i wrote this instead of sleeping #smut #fluff #switch!mike #jealousjersey

[crangrapel0ver]

Sunburns and Silence

Caring!Katsuki Bakugo x fem reader.

Summary: Katsuki cares for you after you become effected by the drawbacks of your quirk. Once you go back to your normal self, he expresses how much he wants to take care of you; although you guys can't help but be interrupted by your well-intentioned friends.

Word count: 4,076

Tags: Caring!Katsuki Bakugo x fem reader, Bakugou cooking for reader, dealing with sunburns, heavy petting, and making out.

“Get in groups of three! we're doing a quirk exercise. Try to get with someone who's quirk doesn't suit yours. Two of the groups will have four people, not three.” Aizawa ordered while he led us to the middle of the arena. It was a similar arena to the one we were at for the sports festival, but it seemed to be a bit bigger without as many stands above. I look to my classmates to see who would be good for the exercise. Most of the groups had formed while I was taking in the arena, and there were only a few people left. Mina, Kaminari, and Sero had grouped together almost immediately. As did Todoroki, Midoriya, and Uraraka. Iida, Tsuyu, and Momo had paired together near Todoroki's group. The other groups were too far away for me to discern, but as far as I could tell, the only group left missing someone was Bakugou and Kirishima's group.

“Oi! Come on Airhead. You're with us sweetheart.” Bakugou snickered as if he was amused with the group. He waved me over with two fingers and I quickly jogged over to him just like he beckoned. As I approached Kirishima turned from Mina's group and gave me a bright smile.

“You ready to win this (surname)?” Kirishima asked with a pat on my shoulders.

“Oh you know I am Kiri! I wonder what it is we'll actually be doing.” I grinned up at him while I looked over to Professor Aizawa. He was looking around with his hair pulled back in a bun to get the hair off of his neck. I understand why. The April heat makes my skin sticky. My own hair was pulled up out of the way. We were all in the school gym uniforms; although most of the students had rightfully ditched the jackets. Even in a thin white tank top, I could feel the sweat pooling on my forehead. I could tell the heat was getting to the boys as well, them having to wipe the sweat off their face.

We hadn't even started the exercise and the sun was already making us exhausted. I just hoped it would get over soon so we could go inside and get something to drink.

“Now that you all are in groups, go ahead and organize yourself at the edges of the arena. We're doing two groups at a time. you'll fight to try and grab each other's flag while protecting your own. You'll have fifteen minutes to get the opposing flag. The first group up is gonna be…” I zoned out as Aizawa drags on. His voice becomes a murmur as I look to the sky. There wasn't a cloud in sight, and the sun wasn't getting any dimmer.

I flinch as a hand slaps my back. It's Katsuki. From the way Kirishima has already walked off, I assume we're to find a spot at the edge to watch. I wordlessly follow him as he finds Kirishima next to Mina, Kaminari, and Sero's group. The first two groups go to their flags and I take a seat against the arena walls to rest my feet. I can see Katsuki's watchful gaze out of the corner of my eye. I just watch the grass and try to not fall deeper into the murmuring of my friends' conversation. The heat isn't letting up anytime soon, and before I know it the first groups are done. I hear Aizawa call for the next two groups, but his words are lost on me. I haven't even used my quirk and already, I'm experiencing the drawbacks of exhaustion. I see a tall figure in front of me and before I can recognise I've put my hand out, Bakugou is pulling me up and telling me that I'll be staying with the flags. All I have to do is stop anyone who comes too close while he and Kirishima get the opposing team's flag. I have to try not to get lost in his ruby eyes while he tells me about the plan.

“You listening to me, Airhead?” He huffs, stirring me out of my stupor. I can see that Momo, Iida, and Tsuyu have already gotten ready for the match. I nod to him as confirmation while he squints at my silence. He lightly slaps my arm as a sendoff and he's off to get set with Kirishima. I can see them nod at each other while Aizawa counts off the match.

As soon as Aizawa says go, they're off in a flurry. I can barely make out what's happening when I see Iida coming my way. I stop him in his tracks just before he gets too close. I can tell he's fighting to get out of it, but I'm too focused on him for the hold to weaken.

Tsuyu is next passing around Bakugou and Kirishima and I can see her gearing up to snag the flag. I paralyze her where she stands and I can feel my concentration slipping. Iida is able to move slightly and he's about to break out completely when Kirishima makes his rounds back to our side. He manages to get Iida in his rock solid grasp before he can speed towards the flag. I still have Tsuyu stuck where she was before, but then I can almost feel my mind slipping away from me.

I know Bakugou will be aggravated if I don't protect the flag. He gave me the easiest job and I don't wanna let him or Kirishima down. I hear a muffled yell, but before I can look towards the sound Tsuyu is out of my hold and reaching for the flag. I'm able to push her away and temporarily stop her, but my hold is limited. she can't run towards it or reach for it, but she's still able to thrash her body around. I can only afford to focus on her if I want to keep the paralysis. I can see Kirishima and Iida fighting somewhere near our flag. I just keep repeating Pause! Pause! Pause! I could see Tsuyu slowly moving out of my hold and I couldn't stop her.

I couldn't do anything. It was as if I was quirkless. It felt as though my quirk was being used against me. I just looked at Tsuyu's movements to grab the flag, only to be stopped by Kiri.

“Bakugou retrieved Yaomomo's flag. Bakugou's team wins.” I can hear Aizawa's voice somewhere behind me in the arena. I saw Kirishima helping up Tsuyu from the ground. I wanted to move to ask if she was okay, but I couldn't seem to move towards her. I can see Katsuki walking up to me, passing Kirishima, Iida, and Tsuyu. I can only look at him, as he says something. He's probably teasing about not being able to keep my quirk to hold them down. I can see him squinting at me like he always does when he's upset with me.

“Did you hear me?” He asks with something lacing his tone. Is it concern or is he aggravated with me ignoring him? I nod at him slowly, not being able to move more than the subtle nod. He only sighs and grabs my elbow. His grip guiding me to the edge of the arena. Over to where the other groups sat. The sun is still beating down onto us. I can feel his calloused hand rubbing the inside of the forearm. One of his hands  holds mine and he rubs his thumb on the back of my hand. It's more gentle than I expect him to be, and I don't know what it's for. I'm just staring at him trying to find the strength to move my hands to hold his. I move my other hand over to his, but the ability to contract my hand is lost on me. I'm turned to face Katsuki, and I can hear Aizawa saying something about going back to the dorms for the rest of the day. I didn't make an effort to leave until Katsuki moved the hand holding mine to rest on my back. He lightly pushed me forward with his hand not leaving my back.

We're in the common room for class A and I'm sitting on the sofa chair that Katsuki put me in after I got back from my shower. It had taken me longer than most of the other students because I couldn't seem to open the door handles or move the shower nod. I struggled to close my hands around the soap to wash my face. I couldn't take my hair out of the ponytail it was put in this morning. When I arrived back downstairs, Katsuki stood up from the table in the living room. I could see him walk over to me and I didn't realize he was trying to lead me over to one of the chairs.

“What do you want to eat?” His warm hand grabbed my cold one, and I could've stayed in his hold forever. I look up at his ruby eyes and I can’t help but relax at his warm gaze. I frown at the question while just barely shaking my head. I don't know what I should eat right now. I can't imagine cooking in this state. The last time I tried to cook while I was like this I ended up burning my hand. Katsuki was so mad when he found me in the kitchen, clutching my bubbling hand. He simply huffed and pushed my hand under cold water while he took the pot off of the stovetop.

“You're not cooking like this. Not after you burnt yourself last time.” He snarled at the memory of me crying silently while cradling my hand. When it happened, I couldn't even yell or ask someone for help. I just silently looked up at him with my puppy dog eyes. I nod at Katsuki, and he just sighs and pulls away to walk to the kitchen. My eyes follow him and stay with him while he moves around to different shelves and cabinets. I see people shifting out of the corner of my eye, but I don't bother to check the movement. I only look over when Mina waves her hand slightly in front of my face. Mina and Kirishima are sitting on the couch next to my chair while Kaminari is crouching in front of me. He reaches to rub my hands with a gentle smile, but I can only glance at him before looking back over to Katsuki. When I glance over, I meet his eyes and he only nods at me then goes back to cooking. I'm pulled back to Kaminari when he squeezes my hand. He asks me if I'm doing alright and I can only stare while he frowns at the blank expression on my face. He glances over to Mina and Kirishima while making a concerned face, glancing at me with a head tilt. I blink slowly and look over to where Katsuki was, but he's gone. My brows furrow as I slowly look around to find him. 

I'm pulled out of my silent concern when he appears in front of me, ushering Kaminari out of the way. He sits on the coffee table in front of me and he looks between me and what he has in his hands. When he moves his hand to my face, I look at his hand not knowing what he's doing. He's holding a spoon. A spoon full of fried rice with small pieces of egg, peppers, and sausage. It's one of my favorite meals, but I didn't know Katsuki knew that. He ushers the spoon to my face again, and I think I know what he wants now. I open my mouth slightly and he puts the spoon in my mouth. He gives me time to chew it before he picks up a cup for me to drink. I've been parched since we went outside into the sun, but after the exercise I couldn't open the water bottle in my room. I tried at it for a couple minutes silently in my room before giving up and getting in the shower. I’m usually not able to move my hands and use small muscles when I’m exhausted like this. It’s like when you lose blood flow to a certain limb and it does to sleep. I lose it in most places which leaves me feeling hollow. Like my body doesn’t work anymore. 

I sometimes feel bad for people who are under my quirk if this is what they feel like. Your mind is slower and fuzzy. Your limbs might as well be absent because you can’t use them. You're helpless in your own body and you can do nothing but wait it out. Usually when I get like this, someone will drop me off at my room and I’ll sleep until I can feel again. On days like these, people don’t seem to notice my inability. They think I’m just tired, not that I’m being paralyzed by my own quirk. Unable to control my body or mind fully. Some people notice, but they don’t know how to help. Not that I could tell them what I need, I barely know what I need myself, but Katsuki never has to be told what I need. He always seems to know what to do without us needing to communicate my needs. 

Katsuki continues to spoon feed me the food he made for me, always so patient with me. The warmth of the food spreads through my cold body. I can hear Mina, Kirishima, and Kaminari gushing over the sweet action, but I can't seem to care. Their conversation continues on, but Katsuki doesn't add to it. He only focuses on me. One of the students on the other side of the room must’ve dropped something because a shattering sound startles me out of the solace Katsuki is giving me. A burst of voices and laughter flows throughout the room, killing the comfortable quiet that I was basking in. My facial expression only barely changes from the blank exhausted one to a slight curiosity. Katsuki doesn't follow my gaze over to the source of noise, he just stays looking at me with that expression I can never place. He taps my knee after a second of me observing their conversation, but when I don’t look back at him, he softly says my name. I look back over to him with a slow blink and soft sigh. 

“Are you feeling any better?” He asks with a hand rubbing my knee and lower thigh. The action is chaste, but It still warms my heart. I tilt my head and lightly lift my shoulders into a shrug. He continues to rub my leg as he looks over to the rest of the class which isn’t going to settle down any time soon. He picks up the bowl slightly to ask if I still want any and I just look away to the empty kitchen, still not being able to find my words. He understands my intention without it needing to be explained. He moves his hand from my thigh to grab my hand gently. He pulls me up slowly with him and takes me to the kitchen where he washes the dish, and I just stand where he left me.

Why is he so kind? For anyone else he would have just left them to deal with themselves. He would’ve scoffed if someone else had asked him to feed them. He’s always been a little gentler with me, but I assumed it was because he thought my blank state wouldn’t be able to handle his brash nature. 

I don’t notice when he stops doing the dishes until he's in front of me and putting his hand on my lower back. He ushers me to the elevator, and I spare him a glance when I notice he presses his floor number not mine. He rubs my back with his thumb, the warmth from his hand bleeding through my shirt. 

When the slow elevator pings and the doors open, I silently walk wherever Katsuki leads me. When I’m with him it’s easy to allow myself to shut off, knowing he will take care of me. He puts in the code to his door and when we get into his room he just points towards the bed. I sink down into the well made bed as he walks to get something. I grab one of his throw blankets and pull it around my shoulders. He’s gone for a couple minutes, and there's some shuffling in the bathroom where he went. When he leaves the bathroom he turns on his small heater and walks over to me. He has a container of clear gel in his hands. He sits the container next to me on the bed and reaches to pinch the material of the blanket between his fingers. 

“You gonna let me put this aloe vera on?” I nod up at him, my tired gaze not leaving his ruby eyes. I pull the blanket off and the material rubs on my sunburnt shoulders that I hadn’t felt until now. The skin hadn’t been aggravated by my tank top, but the blanket seemed to set it off. Usually when I went to relax with Katsuki in his room, this was my favorite blanket. Claiming the soft blanket as my own whenever I was here, but now I wanted nothing to do with the itchy material. His lips tightened into a line when I winced, but it's relaxed whenever he let out a deep breath through his nose. He gently pulled my hair into a bun to keep it off my back.

He easily opened the container and began rubbing the gel into my red shoulders. My eyes close with a sigh as the cool gel eases the hot skin, and I can't help but smile softly. He puts a little bit of aloe on my forehead and cheeks. He spreads a thin layer of gel across the bridge of my nose. He wipes the last bit on the lid of the container, and when there's nothing left on his hands he moves to cup my jaw. His thumb rubbing the edge of my jawline that doesn’t have gel on it. I lean into the touch and he smiles at the small action. 

“That feel good? I thought you were gonna melt outside today.” He chuckled softly, but I only looked up at him. He planted his knees on the bed and bent down to be face to face with me. He glanced down at my lips and I leaned forward looking at his ruby eyes that were always softer when they looked at me. I licked my lips and his grip tightened on my jaw. He closed the gap and placed a gentle kiss on my lips. I kissed back as best as I could before he pulled away again. 

He had a fond look in his eyes when he looked at me, only inches away. I leaned closer to him again with my eyes closed, silently begging for another one. He granted my wish, this time with a deeper kiss. He moved to cup the back on my neck where there wasn’t any sunburn. His hands lacing through my hair while the other one wrapped around my waist. My hands rested on his muscular arms. He kissed me like I was air and he was drowning. He held me like I was never going to be in his arms again. He devoured me like he was starving. When he pulled away I looked into his rose colored eyes and he must've seen my dazed look. 

“Are you better now?” he asked, not letting me out of his hold just yet. I nodded at him and he gave me a skeptical look. 

“Thank you Katsuki. For everything.” I whispered with a quick kiss on his lips. I wasn’t completely back, but the numbness has subsided to a fuzzy feeling. Even though I’m still exhausted, it’s something I can manage now. 

“You don’t have to thank me for this. Someone has to take care of your ass.” He mumbled into my lips as he closed his eyes again and kissed me once more. His hands pulled me tighter to him before releasing and guiding me to lay against the bed. I moved to lace my hands through his hair as he explored underneath my tank top. He just barely grazed the underside of my boobs, and he kissed me a little harder realizing I don't have a bra on. He continued to kiss me with a warm passion until a knock startled us out of the makeout session. 

“Bakubro! Is (surname) in here? Mina went to check on her and she wasn’t in her room.” Kirishima asked from outside the door. Hopefully he hadn’t heard anything. If he saw us now, with puffy red lips and the aloe vera smeared on Katsuki’s face, he’d definitely know something was going on. Katsuki finally pulled his warm hands out of my shirt and walked over to the door. He opened it just enough for me to be blocked from Kirishima’s view. 

“Yeah, she’s in here. I just got her some aloe vera and she’s resting a bit before she goes to her room for the night.” Katsuki says with ease. It’s technically true, but Kirishima doesn’t need to know that our version of ‘resting’ was with Katsuki’s hands up my shirt and his tongue in my mouth. Kirishima seemed to hum in understanding and I see Katsuki freeze when Kirishima asks about why he has aloe vera on him as well. 

“Tch, I was a little sunburned also. Why are you being so nosey, Shitty hair?” He tried to defend, but Kirishima just chuckled as he patted Katsuki’s shoulder. He wasn’t believing a word that came out of Katsuki’s mouth and we all knew it. 

“Whatever you say, just remember we’re going out into town tomorrow morning. Try to make sure she actually gets some rest.” He grins and I’m sure he can see me from just behind the door. 

“I will, Shitty hair.” Katsuki mumbles as he looks back towards me. He says goodnight to Kirishima and Kirishima says goodnight to both of us with a boyish laugh. Katsuki shuts the door with a sigh and returns to the bed with a small grin. He gets back on the bed over me and pulls him into a slow kiss. Katsuki puts one of his hands on my exposed thigh and the other in my hair. This time I lace one of my hands through his hair and grip his arm with the other. He smiles into the kiss and I can’t help but smile as well. We break apart and he looks down at my lips before initiating another breathtaking kiss. I almost think I’m going crazy when another knock at the door sounds. Am I having deja vu? No, unfortunately there’s another person at the door. Katsuki groans as he’s forced to break the kiss and take his hands away from my soft skin once more. 

“Come on Bakugou! You can’t hide her away in here.” Mina yells through the door, and I can already imagine her stance. Her hands are probably on her hips, impatiently tapping her foot while waiting for Katsuki to open the door. When he does, Mina can clearly see the aggravation slipping onto his expression. “Don’t be so sour. I just wanted to check that she was feeling okay, but clearly she’s feeling more than okay right now.” she grinned slyly and I could feel the glare from Katsuki. She waved through the door past Katsuki and said goodnight as she walked off in the direction of Kirishima. 

There’s no way we're hearing the end of this tomorrow or anytime soon. I can’t seem to care as Katsuki falls back into the bed and pulls me onto his chest. Eventually the fuzziness of quirk exhaustion fades and Katsuki’s warmth encompasses me as I fall asleep on his chest. His warm hands wrapped around my waist and my thigh pulled up around his waist. My hands resting on his chest as his heart beats lull me into a quiet sleep.

#bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #my hero academia #fluff #tooth rotting fluff #making out #how do i even tag this #kirishima eijirou #mina ashido #im just a girl #i wrote this instead of sleeping

[soleilandpeaches]

it's enough to make a girl blush

Keigo Takami x Fem!Reader

synopsis: he really just wanted to let you sleep; he should've known how much of a nympho his precious girlfriend was.

song title inspo: Wet Dream by Wet Leg

Warnings: cursing, oral sex (m!receiving/implied f!receiving), petnames, afab reader, orgasms

Dragging his feet through the hallway and into your room, boots echoing softly as he tries not to wake you. Once he enters your room he stands over your sleeping figure as he discards his clothes. He settles on the edge of your bed, watching you sleep in comfortable silence; the only sound being your dozing, even breaths.

He reaches his hand to you, silently petting your head before running his fingers down your misshapen braids you wear to bed. He lets out a long sigh, watching as you mumble listlessly in your sleep, ever so slightly leaning into his touch as his fingers gently stroke the apple of your cheek. He smiles, even in your sleep you still yearn for him.

Stepping out of the bathroom and back into your room, his mouth tasting minty and his face feeling fresh; he lifts up the covers and snuggles into your bed next to you, his arm reaching around your shoulder to pull you into his chest. He presses your hair to his nose and takes a long whiff of you, breathing out another long sigh.

You washed your hair today, he notes, grinning to himself again before his face falls quickly; he feels his cock stir in his boxers.

Shit.

Smoothing his hand over the print in his pants, he curses weakly to himself.

He can’t do this next to you, he thinks. Not only will it risk waking you up, but the thought of doing something so lewd when you sleep so peacefully next to him causes him to grimace.

No, he chastises, he’ll just get up and take care of it in the bathroom. No big deal. He's a grown man, after all.

And yet, just as he goes to sit up, you latch onto him, refusing to let him leave you again after you just got him back. Though you’re still asleep, which he would find adorable despite the raging hard on desperately needing his attention.

A part of him does want to wake you, selfishly, he might add. But damnit, he loves you too much, and he knows the one thing you love to do almost more than fuck him is sleep. What kind of man–no–boyfriend, would he be to rob you of your much needed rest.

Begrudgingly, he carefully pulls you off of him to stand, just until your sweet and innocent voice whispers to him: “Where are you going?” You murmur sleepily.

“Shhh,” he hushes lightly. “Just going to the bathroom. Go back to sleep, Dove.” He urges gently but your eyes have already peeled open, admiring his naked chest and legs and oh.

It didn’t take you long to find out why he was leaving you so hastily.

“It'll hurt to pee with that, no?” You tease him tenderly, your eyes barely lifted and your lips curling into an amused grin.

He breathes your name softly, “Just go back to sleep.” He exhales, turning his back to you as he sits at the end of the bed, ready to stand before your chest meets his back and your arms wrap around his neck, hands coming to rest against his pecs.

You press your cheek into the space his wings meet his back, causing them to flutter for a moment. A shiver flows through him at the feeling of your soft, pillowy lips pressed against him. You lift your head lazily, allowing your warm breath to fan against his neck; his hair rapidly standing as his body burns hot.

He attempts to say your name again, struggling to sound more assertive yet it comes out closer akin to a hushed plea.

“Yes?” you coo against his ear seductively. He hates the effect you have on him, hating your torturous self-awareness and how you love to hold his weak resolve against him.

“Are you mad at me?” You press desperately, your hands kneading against his muscles, trailing lower and lower and stopping just above where he needed you the most, only to glide teasingly back up, your nails gently scraping across his stomach causing his abdomen to flex. Your fingers halt once you reach his nipples, feeling them harden at your touch, you gently tug and pinch as your lips nibble and nip at his ear and neck.

“No,” his voice cracks as you mouth at the back of his earlobe, fingers continuing their assault on his chest.

“I just didn’t wanna bother you.” He admits finally, breathing out the words that were trapped in his chest. Although, he knows now he couldn’t have been far from that, since you seem to be fully enjoying yourself and ravaging his body. You seem to agree, huffing out a short laugh.

“You’re not bothering me.” You murmur against his neck, slowly coaxing him back into bed.

Once he turns back around to face you, he cups your face in his palms and pulls you forward into a sweet and soft kiss–the kisses he knows get you to melt underneath him. And to no one’s surprise, you sigh happily into his mouth, your lips curving upwards as your arms loop back around his shoulders and your hand grips the back of his head, bringing him closer to your sweet mouth. A series of smooches following and resonating through the room.

Suddenly, your arms untie themselves so you can push him back against the soft cushions of your bed. He watches intently as you lean over him, the way you swing your hips: seductive and confident as you slowly crawl over him. You place yet another gentle kiss to his parted lips, your tongue tenderly teasing into his mouth before you pull away, smirking down at him as you watch his lips chase yours. But before he can protest, you’re littering kisses from his chin, to his jaw, and down his throat, suckling and nibbling as you go.

You peer up at him through your lashes as you take one of his nipples into your mouth and suck. You watch as he keens, purring as one hand flys to the back of your neck and the other simply resting against your arched spine.

You bring one of your hands to fiddle with the other, causing him to arch his chest into you: chasing the pleasure of your talented tongue.

Gasps and soft moans fall from his mouth as he squirms underneath you. He feels your self-satisfied smirk against him but he doesn’t care, not when you're making him feel so good.

Once your hand leaves his chest to rub down his body to the hem of his pants, he feels himself twitch in excitement. He trembles as you pull off his nipple with a wet pop! You then ask him if you can take them off.

“Yes! Fuck Angel, please don’t stop…”

You giggle, tugging them down his legs before you settle in between them. He feels your lips find the corner of his mouth as your dominant hand gently grips the base of his dick, squeezing experimentally before slowly (and agonizingly) tugging upwards, your hand twisting as you do so.

“Fuck, baby please.” Eyes screwed shut, he begs shamelessly; he just needed to feel you.

“Please what?”

“Please touch me…”

“I am touching you.” The smug hilt in your voice doing nothing to aid in his frustration.

“Please!” He cries, “I need you so bad!”

Giving in, you shush him coolly. “You have me, Sweet boy.” You promise, your voice a warm quell to his nerves. Peeking his eyes open, he gazed up at you endearingly. His hands find home on your hips, thumbs gently rubbing hearts into your skin as you bend forward, arching your back as your lips wrap around his leaking tip.

He feels your tongue flick against his frenulum, causing him to let out a gasp followed by a breathy whimper. You chuckle against him, sucking him further into your warm mouth until you reach the base of his pelvis, your nose nuzzling against his trimmed pubes.

“Oh fuck Sweetheart, just like that…”

You hum happily against his dick, the vibrations sending a pleasurous tremor up his spine. He eases his hand on top of your head and allows you to pull off him, hollowing your cheeks as you do so, peering up at his addicting, flushed out expression.

You sink back down faster than you came up, his hips lifting involuntarily, thrusting down your throat and emitting you to gag around him.

“Fuck! Yes! Shit, baby…”

Your separate, unoccupied hand joins between his legs to fondle at his balls, squeezing as you slurp and choke around him.

He swears to himself heaven could never compare to the heat of your lewd mouth or your sweet pussy. Nothing in this world could ever compare to how good you make him feel, his beautiful, perfect girl.

“Shit, I’m gonna cum baby…”

“Fuck!” His hoarse breath tapering off into a high pitched whine as his hips pick up in pace, holding you in place against him as your tongue lavishes and twists around his cock. His eyes roll back until all you see is white, cursing and groaning your name aloud. Continuing to feel your moans against him, he fucks his fill down your throat with hot white spurts of cum, grinning when he feels you swallow without being told.

“Good girl…” he sighs with relief.

You beam sleepily up at him, compelling your lips off his cock unhurried, cheekily shaking your ass for him as you do. Your eyes hold a playful mirth as you let excess cum run down your lips and down into your his shirt. He stares as you lick your lips before he shoves your shirt up into your mouth to watch his cum travel between the valley of your breasts. Leaning forward, he licks a stripe between your tits; his hand reaching up to unashamedly grope at you, pulling and tugging at your nipples as you did him.

He marvels at your pathetic, beautiful whimpers and whines. Lifting his head, he opts to drop your shirt from your mouth to replace it with his own. Prodding his tongue between your parted lips, he kisses you hungrily, pushing his own cum back into your mouth. His hand gripping your soft cheeks and pressing you against his face, his stubble scratching against you.

Releasing you, he smirks down at your panting, blushing face, lips swollen and red. It takes you a moment but you eventually smile back at him, lip catching between your teeth as your hands continue to explore him.

“Guess I should return the favor, Sweet girl."

#i wrote this instead of sleeping #i was thinking of this and HAD to write it #i’m so in love with this man #hawks x reader #keigo x reader #takami keigo #takami keigo x reader #keigo takami x reader #bnha #mha #keigo takami #hawks smut #hawks x you #keigo x you #mha hawks #bnha hawks #mha x reader #bnha x reader #keigo takami mha #keigo takami smut #keigo takami x you #my hero acedamia #boku no hero fanfic #boku no hero academia #my hero fanfic #hawks x y/n #keigo takami x y/n #mha smut #bnha smut #hawks fluff

[dystopicjumpsuit]

Hey, Sunshine 💙

A/N: Wishing the happiest birthday to my beloved @sunshinesdaydream!

Pairing: Hardcase x Reader (GN; Reader has a nickname)

Rating: T but minors DNI as always

Wordcount: 1.1k

Warnings and tags: fluff; kissing; Star Wars swearing

Summary: Hardcase has a birthday surprise for you.

Suggested listening:

Masterlist | Sign up for my tag list

Three hours, twenty-two minutes, and thirty-seven seconds. 

That's how long you had left until you'd officially be on shore leave. A whole week off. No handing out uniforms; no listening to sheepish explanations about how exactly a trooper ended up with an undersuit three sizes too small (HOW?!); no defending your distribution numbers in pointless meetings with your supervisor. Just five days, all to yourself. You could do anything you wanted. 

Well. Almost anything.

You finished taking stock of the Resolute’s uniform inventory and sent a quick comm to the supply officer to let her know the ship was running low on socks—again—while you tried not to think about a certain heavy gunner with the sweetest eyes and the prettiest ink in the GAR. The truth, which you would never admit even under pain of torture, was that you'd happily skip shore leave if it meant you'd get to spend more time with him.

But you couldn't, so you didn't.

Instead, you'd be spending the week on Coruscant, NOT with Hardc—your friends, which was FINE. It was absolutely FINE, and you were excited to finally have some free time, and maybe it sucked just a tiny bit that you'd be spending your birthday alone in a hotel room in the mid-levels, but it was FINE. There was plenty to do on Coruscant, after all. You were sure you'd be able to find something—

“Hey, Sunshine.”

You shrieked and jumped in surprise as the voice sounded close behind you.

“Hardcase, you scared the kark out of me!” you gasped, smacking him in the chest with a compression suit and doing your best to ignore the way the world suddenly seemed a little bit brighter. “What are you doing here? Don't tell me you lit your dress uniform on fire again.”

“That was two times!” he exclaimed, affronted. “It's not like I did it on purpose.”

“Then why are you here instead of getting ready to paint the Entertainment District red?”

He eyed the compression suit warily. “If I tell you, are you going to hit me with that thing again?”

“Depends on what you say,” you replied with a cheeky smile.

Apparently unwilling to take any chances, he took the suit from you and folded it neatly, then set it aside. When he turned back to you, he looked almost… nervous? That was new; you'd never seen him display anything less than well-deserved confidence. He licked his lips, and with an effort so heroic that you mentally awarded yourself a medal, you kept your gaze steadily on his eyes instead of staring at his mouth.

“I, uh, have something for you,” he said. He fumbled in one of his many pouches—why do they have so many pouches?—and produced a small box wrapped in colorful flimsi. “It's nothing much, just, er—happy birthday, Sunshine.”

He shoved the box toward you and looked away quickly. Surprised, you accepted the gift and examined it curiously as Hardcase watched out of the corner of his eye. On closer inspection, you saw that the flimsi was covered in hand-drawn geometric patterns in your favorite colors, and your heart gave a strange little thump at the thoughtfulness and effort he'd put in.

“How’d you know my birthday was coming up?” you asked.

“I have my ways,” he said in a dignified tone that was utterly subverted by the eager expression on his face.

“So mysterious!” you laughed.

He grinned. “A mystery, wrapped in an enigma—”

“Shrouded in flimsi,” you finished.

“Exactly. Now open it!”

“But the mystery!” you teased.

“Mysteries are meant to be solved. Open it!”

He was practically vibrating, his earlier jitters obliterated by anticipation. Unable to resist tormenting him (just a little, as a treat), you took your time to unwrap the box, painstakingly avoiding tearing the flimsi. Once you had it completely unwrapped, you held up the flimsi and admired the artwork.

“Hardcase, this really is gorgeous. I didn't know you could draw like this.”

“Kriff the flimsi, open the box! I know you're doing this on purpose.”

With one final, mischievous smile, you complied. Your breath caught when you saw what was inside: a simple cord necklace, and on it, a crystal pendant that flashed purple and green in the light, intricately wrapped in silver wire.

“It's beautiful,” you whispered. “Did you make this?”

He nodded. “I found the crystal on Saleucami. Reminded me of you.”

“Saleucami was months ago,” you replied, confused.

“I know.” 

Your eyes flitted from his face to the necklace and back again. On impulse, and before you could lose your nerve, you asked, “Can you help me put it on?”

He didn't reply, but he stepped closer to you and picked up the necklace. He fumbled with the clasp a bit and paused to tug off his gloves with his teeth. Once he got the clasp open, he lifted the necklace and fastened it gently around your neck, his calloused fingers ghosting lightly over your skin.

Maker, he smells so good, it's not kriffing fair, you mused, trying to refrain from huffing him like glue.

“Thanks.” Your voice sounded suspiciously hoarse, even to your own ears.

His thumb stroked softly down the side of your neck.

“Hey, Sunshine?” he whispered.

You swallowed, suddenly feeling a little lightheaded. “Yeah?”

“Can I kiss you?”

Your breath stuttered to a halt. “... Yeah.”

His eyes dropped to your lips, and he slowly closed the distance between the two of you. As his hand slid around to cup the back of your head, your heart hammered so hard you were sure he must be able to feel it. He glanced back up at your eyes, as though looking for confirmation that you wanted this, and whatever he saw there seemed to satisfy him. His lips touched yours softly, his kiss achingly tender at first. Then you brushed the tip of your tongue against his lips, and he drew in a sharp breath, pulling you tightly against himself.

How many times had you imagined kissing Hardcase? Dozens? Hundreds? It didn't matter, because none of them even came close to the reality. He kissed you like you were the only being in the galaxy, like you were his entire world. When at last you drew away, breathless and dizzy, he whispered your name—your real name—like a plea, quiet and reverent.

His thumb traced around the shell of your ear. He nuzzled your cheek, then pressed his lips to the corner of your mouth one more time.

“Been wantin’ to do that forever,” he murmured against your skin.

“What took you so long?” you asked in a hushed tone.

“Didn't want to kark it up,” he replied. 

“Oh,” you whispered. “Well. You didn't.”

He held you close to him, his breath soft and warm across your face as his fingertips drew tiny circles in the downy hairs just where the back of your neck met your head. After a moment, he spoke quietly.

“Did you have plans for shore leave? Because if not, I have a few ideas.”

---

Looking for more Hardcase fluff? Check out my ficlet, “A Question of Seman-dicks.”

Taglist:

@secondaryrealm @sev-on-kamino spicy-clones @wings-and-beskar @523rdrebel @merkitty49 @anxiouspineapple99 @sinfulsalutations @arcsimper5 @starrylothcat @clio3kantarella @cloneloverrrrr @goblininawig @ladytano420 @arctrooper69 @wolffegirlsunite @sunshinesdaydream @mandos-mind-trick @littlemissmanga @stunkbiggu @starqueensthings @clonemedickix @marierg @idontgetanysleep @moonlightwarriorqueen @dudewhynotthis @sleepycreativewriter @tcwmatchmakingau @littlemissbshine @multi-fan-dom-madness @heavenseed76 @wizardofrozz @bobaprint @sweetcream-coldfoam @banksys-rat @skellymom @pickleprickle @trixie2023 @mythical-illustrator @dickarchivist @cw80831 @kimiheartblade @meredithroseg @flyiingsly @lightwise @swcowgal @reader6898 @cdblake1565 @epicy0n

#clone trooper hardcase #hardcase x reader #tcw hardcase #the clones wars #star wars #tcw fanfic #star wars fanfic #i wrote this instead of sleeping #dystopicjumpsuit writes #Spotify

[wolfoftheblackflames]

Help! I couldn't help myself and wrote more fluff! Enjoy ya Misfits!

Hooves and Wings:

“You have hooves?” A memory had made itself known to Charlie, who smiled fondly at a gift she was preparing.

It had been when she first met Vaggie, and the two became friends, though it was a rocky start with the angel not exactly settling down. (Cue Flashback)

It had been over several days since Charlie had rescued a cute girl by the dumpster. She hadn't noticed the golden blood until it was on the bandage over Vaggie's eye socket. “Hmm..” It made the princess curious but she decided to respect her friend's privacy. “Looks like it's healing nicely, shouldn't be too long now till you're fully recovered.” She smiled at Vaggie moving some of that short hair to the side.

“Still feels weird..” Vaggie muttered as the angel was given fresh bandages and a gauze over it. Charlie was gentle with her and smiled softly. “Yeah? Well I have something for you.” The blonde grinned slightly and took out a small box.

Vaggie tilted her head curiously, and with a nod from Charlie, the angel opened it and stared. “Esto es muy lindo..” (This is really cute.) She smirked a bit seeing the eyepatch in the box. “Thanks Charlie..” She added picking it up to examine it.

Charlie giggled. “I like making stuff so I figured I'd make this for you.” She blushed, scratching her cheek. The two were in their casual attire as Charlie playfully did some cute hand tapping on her own thighs. “There's also something else.” She added with a giggle.

Vaggie blinked and looked back into the box and found what looked to be a beautiful looking red-pink ribbon that matched the stitched in x design on the eyepatch. “You're spoiling me here…” She replied with a soft smirk.

“I couldn't help it.” Charlie gulped and rubbed her neck. “You're like the first friend I've had in a long time, so..”

“Well I'm flattered…” Vaggie smiled warmly, her eye focused on her friend.

Charlie stretched and got off the bed in the guest room. “It's getting late, I'll leave you alone so you can sleep. Good night Vaggie.” She smiled and went to her room.

What happened next surprised the demoness as she blinked hearing a knock. “It's open!” She called from her bed as she was slipping off her shoes. What greeted those ruby eyes was an adorable sight, Vaggie was in a beautiful white nightgown while holding a pillow and blanket. “Vaggie, what brings you here not that I don't mind?”

“You said we're friends right? I'm not used to it but.. Um.. Would you like to do a sleepover?” Vaggie rubbed her neck with a bit of golden hue to her cheeks.

Charlie beamed at the idea as she grinned patting the bed. “I'd love to! Just let me change into my pj's ok?”

Vaggie smiled and nodded though blinked, spying Charlie’s feet. “You have hooves?” She tilted her head.

“Y-yeah, I was about to do some cleaning actually…” Charlie blushed, lightly rubbing her neck. “Are they weird…?” She asked since before she was told they were by her douche of an ex.

“N-no, they're actually kinda cute?” Vaggie replied with an awkward smile. “It just caught me off guard seeing them, that's all…”

Charlie blinked a little surprised with a slight blush but that small crush she had on this cute woman only grew. She smiled fondly at Vaggie. “So what did you have in mind?” She giggled but then pointed to her large shelf of movies. “If it's a movie, feel free to browse my library while I go change.”

Vaggie nodded watching the princess do a light skip to the bathroom. Though once Charlie came back out in her red long sleeve pj shirt and pj pants she blinked seeing Vaggie sitting on the bed by the hoof care kit. “You've done a lot for me already, so may I help you with your hooves?” She asked as Charlie blushed slightly. “Sure..”

The two sat on Charlie’s rather large bed, though the princess fought the urge to squirm as Vaggie tickled her hooves while cleaning them. She found it cute seeing her crush so focused on the job at hand. “Pffft…. Vaggie!” She couldn't hold back a giggle. “That tickles!”

Vaggie blinked hearing Charlie snort, and it earned the princess a small laugh from her new friend. This only made Charlie crush even harder since that laugh was the cutest she's ever heard. Once their giggle fit was done Vaggie finished picking out the last of the debris from those cute red hooves. “There we go.”

Charlie giggled, flexing her hoof toes with a delightful grin. “You kept tickling me, you know?” She smirked, coming closer to Vaggie who blinked. “Time for some payback!”

“Charlie!” The angel couldn't escape the tickle barrage as she was once again a big giggle fit, with the most adorable snort. “Ack! Can't breathe!” She howled with laughter. She managed to catch her breath when Charlie looked satisfied with her tickle attack.

“You have the cutest laugh.” She grinned but blinked seeing Vaggie grumble with a small wince. “Oh sorry, did I hurt you?!” She was alert and attentive as Vaggie gave a small smile.

“No, I'm ok..”

“You sure?” Charlie gave a soft, concerned look. Vaggie giggled a bit and nodded. “Yeah.”

Charlie sighed in relief, she had been worried she aggravated the wounds. “Sorry about that though.”

Vaggie looked a little surprised but then smiled a bit and went to grab a movie. “Oh? A knight’s tale? That's a classic.”

“Yeah I like it cause the protagonist chased his dreams and achieved them.”

“Want to watch it then?” Vaggie smiled holding it up. “Yes please, I'll go grab us some popcorn!”

The two snuggled up under a blanket that was draped over their shoulders with a bowl of popcorn in Charlie's lap. Alongside them were two adorable goat dragon demons Razzle and Dazzle since who could leave those two out. Soon Charlie pushed play on their movie night. (End of flashback)

------

In the present day Charlie was grinning widely while carrying a gift box for her precious angel. “Hey Vags?” She peeked into their shared room.

“Hm?” Vaggie blinked looking back, she was casually cleaning her spear. “Oh hey sweetie.” She flashed a smile before her attention went back to the spear.

Charlie pouted a bit, but soon smirked devilishly. “I guess you're super focused right now, you don't want the gift I got you..” She stated in a playful sing-song-like tone. This caused the angel to look back at her, raising an eyebrow.

“You got something for me?”

“Yep. So could you put the spear down please?”

Vaggie shrugged and did so, she could always sharpen it after. “Alright, you have my attention, love, what is it?”

Charlie grinned and walked over carrying the box with a pretty red bow on top. “Just something I figured you needed babe.” She replied and handed Vaggie the box to open.

“Oh?” Vaggie removed the neatly wrapped bow and looked inside, she blinked, spying the gift. “Do you like it?”

“You got me a wing care kit?” She sounded surprised. Charlie grinned and nodded. “Yep, I figured since you regained your wings, I'd help you take care of them.”

Vaggie just looked at Charlie though smiled gently at her and planted a soft kiss to her wonderful girlfriend’s cheek. “Gracias mi amor..” (Thank you my love)

“I know a little bit about wings since when I was little my dad let me play with his…” Charlie replied and smiled. “Seeing how beautiful yours were, I knew for sure I'd have to get you some care stuff for them.”

Vaggie chuckled. “You spoil me, hon..” She soon brought out those gorgeous gray gradient feathered wings, which made Charlie squee. “I'm glad you like them..” She smiled a bit but then looked a little sad.

Charlie lightly cupped Vaggie's cheek, with the big secret out in the open, the princess knew why her sweet angel made such a face. “I absolutely love them, my cute song bird.” She smiled softly, lightly touching Vaggie's forehead with her own. “It makes me happy they came back because of the love we have.”

Vaggie closed her eyes with a soft smile, though her cheeks became a darker shade of gold hearing that new nickname. “Song bird?”

“Yeah, cause your wings and that beautiful voice you have love.” Charlie giggled nuzzling her. She peppered Vaggie's face and neck with kisses earning more giggles from her beautiful girlfriend. “Charlie stop, that tickles!”

The two remained close for a bit until Vaggie reluctantly pulled away. “You're such a goof..” She wiped a stray tear from her eye. “Go ahead.” Vaggie turned and stretched those wings out for Charlie while moving that long silvery hair away to expose more of the feathers and her back.

“Your goof.” The princess grinned and lightly started to run her fingers along the feathers. “Quick question?”

“Hm?”

“Does it get like… Bedroom-ish? Sorry but I'm curious.”

Vaggie rubbed her chin, though shuddered a bit when Charlie ran her fingers through the feathers near the base. “Yeah?”

“Oh.. Hehe..” Charlie had a cute grin. “OK so only in the bedroom then..” She couldn't help it as her tail popped out and started wagging a bit.

Vaggie noticed and gave a playful smirk. “You perv..” She teased making the hellborn turn red with blush.

Charlie decided to get Vaggie back for making her flustered with a soft kiss to the old scarring on her songbird's back. With both equally a blushing mess the two soon burst into laughter. Vaggie smiled fondly as she felt Charlie being careful with her wings, giving each feather a soft comb through and lightly taking out any damaged ones. “Ooo!” Charlie grinned, having some old feathers in her hands. “I kinda wanna turn these into stuffing for pillows…”

Vaggie snorted. “Of course you'd say that..” She chuckled, shaking her head. “What having a pillow that smells like you would be nice?” This only earned more laughter from Vaggie who held her stomach.

Charlie grinned, hearing that laugh she loved so much. She tried to continue, but Vaggie was in a cute giggle fit. “Vaggie, if you keep moving, I can't apply the oil!”

“Sorry, but the thought of you cuddling a pillow stuffed with my feathers is too cute..”

Charlie pouted but rolled her eyes smiling waiting for Vaggie to settle down. “That's the coverts done.” She stated making Vaggie look at her.

“Since when did you know wing terminology babe?”

“Uh, I.. Well I looked up how to care for wings beforehand…”

Vaggie blinked but smiled. “You planned this for a while huh?”

Charlie nodded softly, she smiled cutely as her fingers gently combed through the tertiary feathers. “Yeah… You always work so hard to take care of me and the hotel. I wanted to do the same back..”

“You do though..” Vaggie looked back and smiled.

“How so?” Charlie blinked as she couldn't help but be curious.

Vaggie thought for a moment then smiled. “You gave me a place to call home when I was torn away from Heaven..” She stated fidgeting a bit. “I'm not proud of who I was, I always felt so guilty about killing your people Charlie…” Charlie blinked but remained quiet as she went to the secondary feathers next. “Being an Exorcist, it was strange but I had a place there, even if the praises sent shivers down my spine.”

Charlie blinked but soon brought her tail to lightly hold Vaggie's wrist while her fingers carefully aligned those feathers. “Honestly I never really had many friends until I met you.” The angel continued finding comfort in the small gesture. “I had one job, to be a murderous killing machine..”

“Vaggie…” Charlie's heart ached for her girlfriend. Sure the secret did hurt her, but she gave a soft look. “You were scared to tell me weren't you? You basically didn't bother to correct me when I thought you were a sinner..”

“Yeah…”

Charlie dipped her head down and nuzzled into Vaggie's hair giving her girlfriend a soft kiss on top. “What happened to you then?”

Vaggie blinked but sighed. “I don't exactly like talking about it..” She muttered, looking away. “But I'll try..”

“Vaggie, you don't really have to say anything..” Charlie replied lightly, reaching over to take her hand.

“I do hon, it'll eat away at me if I don't.”

“But..”

Vaggie gave that hand a gentle squeeze. “One request please…” She sounded a little hesitant. “Anything love?”

“I like your hands… Could you keep roaming them on my wings, please? It relaxes me..”

Charlie nodded and continued her work. She looked worried at how nervous Vaggie looked. Her mind drifted back to her once, saying, “If I can't help you, then what's the point of me?” The princess gave another comforting kiss to her songbird's wing, this time making the angel relax more.

“You remember how we met, babe?” Vaggie's gaze drifted to a photo of the two together. “I do, it was horrible, you were so hurt…”

Vaggie steeled herself and took a soft breath. “I came down from heaven that day, and the guilt took over when I chased a child sinner to an alley… I let them go.” She stated as Charlie gasped.

The angel raised her hand to stop Charlie from speaking. “You won't like the next part..” She looked at her loving princess. “Do you… Still want to hear it?”

“Yes…” Charlie gave her a soft gaze. She loved Vaggie more than anything, even when the secret was revealed and she was hurting, Charlie didn't deny that deep in her heart, it already belonged to this wonderful person in front of her, her talk with Rosie reassured it tenfold.

Vaggie blinked, seeing that loving kind glint in those ruby eyes. She smiled softly, though her old wounds began to ache at the mention of the next part. “Okay…” Vaggie took a soft breath. “Next thing I knew, someone was behind me, and with much brutality, my eye was taken..”

Vaggie felt the heat from Charlie's demonic form, yet continued knowing it would piss off her beloved even more. “I was in shock and fell to my knees, and in a quick second I saw who it was, someone who I thought was a friend, but no she was petty and always had it out for me.” Venom dripped from her words as Vaggie gritted her teeth. “Lute, Adam's right hand bitch.”

Charlie stared and growled. “And she also ripped off your wings?! All because you spared a child?!” She moved her hands back and dug her claws into her own palms.

Vaggie looked at Charlie and blinked seeing those beautiful hands starting to drip blood. “Hon..” She gently took those hands. “I plan to settle the score next time I see that asshole.” She smirked looking determined.

Charlie looked at her with deep demonic red eyes. “Yeah, and I know you'll kick her ass. But love, we stick together ok?” She loosened her hands letting Vaggie hold them. “I don't want you getting hurt anymore.”

“Hey..” Vaggie lifted those hands up and kissed the palms. “I don't plan on dying in the battle with heaven, babe.” She then got up and picked up her spear. Charlie blinked, still fully demonic as she saw her beautiful angel do a small kneel, which reminded her of the knight from one of her favorite movies. “O-oh!” Charlie blinked, seeing her beloved take her hand and kiss the knuckles. “Sorry but I also plan to protect my home with everything I've got as well.”

Charlie couldn't help but swoon at Vaggie, who looked incredibly dashing right now. “Geez, someone's feeling theatrical today, I guess I rubbed off on you.” She teased but smiled warmly gently pulling Vaggie up from her kneeling. “You even remembered our first sleepover movie.”

Vaggie blushed but smiled at Charlie, though it was replaced with a cheeky grin as she set down her spear again. “Yeah, but I also remember this too.” Her deft hands came to Charlie’s sides and easily tickled her princess, sending the demoness into a laughing fit. “Nooo!”

This caused Charlie to revert back and whine as she howled with laughter. “Revenge.” Vaggie grinned as she let up the tickle barrage when Charlie tapped out. “Meanie…”

“You love it though.”

“True, now we have a big day of training tomorrow, shall we go to sleep?”

“Don't forget your hooves, hon..” Vaggie stated with a soft smile. “Oh, it's been so busy I almost forgot, thanks love.” Charlie flashed a cute grin. She then rewarded Vaggie with a loving kiss to the cheek.

“Go you goof…” Vaggie playfully shooed her away as Charlie giggled. The two then started their nightly routine, it was one of the last peaceful moments they were able to share before the big battle with Heaven.

#charlie morningstar #vaggie #chaggie #hazbin hotel #cute as fuck #i wrote this instead of sleeping #fluff #lute mentioned #awkward vaggie is fun #flustered charlie is fun #starmoth #rainbowmoth #damn theres alot of chaggie ship name alternatives! #I love charlie's hooves #i think Vaggie has beautiful wings #hurt/comfort

[wylanslcve]

Okay don't mind me I'm in the middle of a Crooked Kingdom reread and feel overwhelmingly inclined to rant about Jesper Fahey because this fandom just doesn't give him the treatment he deserves. I'm specifically going to incoherently ramble about the scene in Crooked Kingdom where he, Colm and Wylan are being shot at because I feel like that scene is representative of Jesper's arc - but, before we dive into that, let me contextualise a few things first. Jesper does things for the thrill of it: he thrives off chaos and spontaneity, hence why he "always felt better when people were shooting at him". It's because the sound of gunfire "called the scattered, irascible, permanently seeking part of his mind into focus like nothing else" - and it also provides a distraction from his pain and trauma, because whenever he'd think about it, "everything in him recoiled. Trying not to die was the best possible distraction". Whenever anything to do with his past or his debt is brought up, "his hands returned to his revolvers" because he found himself "longing for the cool, familiar feel of their pearl handles beneath his thumbs". It steadies him as much as it possibly can when he's not in a dangerous situation, momentarily calling his mind into focus, an attempt at distracting himself from his afflictions.

Based off similar instances, the scene in Crooked Kingdom where he, Wylan and Colm are being shot at should have brought him that same satisfaction that any other shooting would. He "should be buzzing from the excitement of the fight. The thrill was still there, fizzing through his blood, but beside it was a cold, unfamiliar sensation that felt like it was draining the joy from him." What makes this situation so different to the others is that he can't ignore his problems and trauma now: it's staring him right in the face. Colm is right there. The thrill of the fight doesn't feel the same because "all he could think was, Da could have been hurt. He could have died." And we know that Jesper's debt would cost Colm the jurda farm Jesper grew up on, forcing him to acknowledge the reality of his problems: with Colm being right there, Jesper just can't ignore his afflictions because all he could think about is how his father would "suffer for his antics". If you ask me, this is so representative of his character arc as a whole.

This is further emphasised by how he's reflecting on the first time he spun Makker's Wheel right before this ambush, its intention being merely "harmless fun", but it ended up evolving into an addiction that "split [his life] like a log into two distinct and uneven pieces: the time before he’d stepped up to that wheel and every day since". The rush of a high-stakes situation is the equivalent of the "harmless fun" - it's a thrill that Jesper enjoys feeling, but in reality it's doing much more harm because it's preventing him from acknowledging and facing his pain. And he's indeed in so much pain: there's so much anguish inside of him, but he'd do anything to distract himself from it because the reality is just too painful.

This is where the tables come in: later in Crooked Kingdom, when the crew are being ambushed by the Khergud, Jesper "could feel the pull of East Stave" because he didn't have anything else to occupy his mind with. Then, the minute he thinks about facing his father, "the need to be at the tables was overwhelming" because he desperately needs to distract himself from the reality of his circumstances: "since Kaz hadn't obliged him with something to shoot at, Jesper needed a pair of dice and long odds to clear his mind". He can't use the ambush as a distraction, so the tables it is. As Inej tells him, "they feel like medicine. They soothe you, put you right for a time. But they’re poison, Jesper. Every time you play, you take another sip." This isn't the first time poison has been used to represent something that is preventing the Crows from healing - we also see it with Matthias, when he tells Brum in Six of Crows, "the life you live, the hate you feel - it's poison. I can drink it no longer". Just like how the exploitation of Matthias' grief and pain as a means of fueling hatred prevented him from healing because it kept exacerbating the anguish within him (he had to stop drinking the poison to do so), Jesper's addiction - and, by extension, the thrill of a high-stakes situation - prevents him from acknowledging the wound inside him and working towards healing it. It gets to the extent where “he had always thought of himself as lucky… what if he’d been bluffing this whole time?” - he’s gotten so used to suppressing his pain that he, in a way, loses sense of who he is. His façade has distorted his perception of himself. It's not until Colm arrives in the Barrel that Jesper is forced to acknowledge just how deep that wound is and how much it's festering - just like how he couldn't even feel the thrill of a fight properly because of the possibility of his father getting hurt.

That scene is one of many cracks that start to form as Jesper continues to bottle up all of this pain and trauma, until he finally breaks when Wylan proposes that he's such a good shot because being a Fabrikator allows him to direct the metal of the bullets. Jesper protests, asking Wylan why he can't "just let things be easy" - why can't he just let him keep ignoring his problems, when it's so much easier than facing them? But Wylan stands his ground, explaining that "they’re not easy... You keep pretending everything is okay. You move on to the next fight or the next party. What are you afraid is going to happen if you stop?" This is why Matthias calls Jesper “angry and frightened” - he’s afraid of stopping, because he knows stopping means that he’s forced to face the reality that he’s deeply wounded. This is when he finally breaks under the burden of his own pain, under the reality that he can't keep ignoring it anymore - hence why he chooses to put his share of the reward in Colm's name because, as he explains to Kaz, "I don’t think I’m ready for that kind of money just yet". For the first time, he's acknowledging his problems and working towards fixing them, no matter how much time it takes (because trauma and addiction don't just disappear overnight).

n e ways this ended up being significantly longer than anticipated but this is what happens when I start analysing these books: it snowballs out of control and suddenly I can’t shut up.

#look at me going on my silly little rants again #i wrote this instead of sleeping #i might have missed a few things but again i haven't finished my reread yet so this is all i've got for you today #i just love jesper fahey okay #i would do anything for him #literally anything #and call me bold for saying this #but he deserves a fandom that treats him better #jesper fahey #kit young #six of crows #crooked kingdom #grishaverse #shadow and bone #shadow and bone season two #shadow and bone season three #six of crows spin off #soc spin off #leigh bardugo #meta #soc meta #six of crows analysis #soc analysis #kaz brekker #inej ghafa #wylan van eck #nina zenik #matthias helvar

[delulupost]

From Being Betrayed To Being The Betrayer

Part 1: Betrayed

"The most loyal hearts are broken by betrayal"

-TF 141 x Reader

○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○

You just arrived at Task Force 141 base. You feel so lucky to be accepted at one of the best task force groups. After you get out from the helicopter, a guy with a Mohawk approach you and pat your shoulder.

"Hey there. You must be the new sergeant. What's your name?" He help you carry one of your bags to your room. "My name is y/n, my callsign is Hawk," you speaks to him as you brings your bags to your room.

"The name's John, callsign Soap," he speaks to you with a friendly tone. He looks like a good guy, a guy that seems like an easy going person especially to the new person in here.

After you put your things in your room, Soap brings you to the meeting room and introduced you to the other members. Price already knows you since he's the one that responsible to invite you to join this task force. Gaz is just like Soap, an easy going person and likes to make joke to you as well as Soap. Ghost in other hand... doesn't like you that much. He has trust issues with new members, especially you. But he treats you well even though he rarely speaks to you.

For the next few months, you and the other members of Task Force 141 go on a mission together, treating you as one of their own. Even Ghost start to open up to you slowly as your easy going personality warming his icy cold heart. You're happy now, as you think you finally found your family. You slowly develope a crush on your lieutenant around 8 months after joining this task force because he save your ass while on a mission.

But one day, everything change when there's a rumor among the operators saying that there's a spy among you. People start to get suspicious at each other and this make things worse. To calm the situation, Price calls you, Ghost, Soap and Gaz as he wants to discuss this situation.

After discussing the situation, Price will send you on a solo mission to gain some intels from the enemy base. You agree to carry out the mission and you'll be send to the enemy base tomorrow morning. After you left, Price, Ghost, Soap and Gaz looked at each other.

They feel something is wrong about you, especially Ghost. About how you making friends with other operators in just a short period of time. All of them agree to send you to a solo mission. Price didn't tell you exactly all of the information that you need, even some of them are made up too. It's actually a suicide mission, as everyone agrees that you're actually the spy in the task force but you're not.

◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇

There's actually a hidden camera set up somewhere in the meeting room, recording the discussion between the four of them. A mysterious person stop recording from the camera, then proceed to keep the video.

◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇

On the mission day, while you're carefully approach the building that Price said before, there's a person walking slowly from your behind. As the person finally get near to you, they hit your head hard and you fell unconscious.

After a few hours later, you finally wake up after fell unconscious. You see there's a man sitting infront of you across a table. You try to stand up, but you can't when you realize that you are tied to the chair. You struggled to wriggle out from the rope, but you finally stop because you realise you can't escape.

"What do you want from me?" You speak to the man infront of you with anger in your voice. "Showing you the truth," he grins at you. He leans at his chair as he looks at you. "What truth?" You ask him again, but this time confussion can be heard in your voice. He just smiles at you as he turn on the tv infront both of you using a remote control.

#i wrote this instead of sleeping #call of duty #cod mw2 #tf 141 #x reader #ghost x reader #x you #soap x reader #gaz x reader #price x reader #141 x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #john soap mctavish x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #john price x reader #ghost x you #simon riley x you #soap x you #gaz x you #price x you

[farfromstrange]

Please, Be Okay | Matt Murdock x Reader

Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader (gender neutral)

Summary: When Matt doesn't text or answer your calls during a night out, you can't help but suspect the worst.

Warnings: Angst, mentions of death and blood, hurt/comfort, not proof-read

Word Count: 2.3k

A/n: So it's like 2am over here and I was trying to sleep, sat up straight in bed, and started to write this in like an hour. I'm not sure what this is, but I actually kind of like it now.

“Please, be okay.” 

It’s nights like this that you were afraid of. The prepaid flip phone you carry is silent, not because you turned off the sound but because no messages are coming in. No calls, no texts, and therefore no signs of life from the only number that is saved on the phone.

You know you worry too much most of the time, and usually, he either forgets to text or he’s too busy to let you know he’s okay, but there is one thing you can always count on: Matt Murdock answers when you text him because leaving you worried in the comfort of your shared apartment, clinging to the hope he didn’t get fatally injured during his nightly patrols, would be an awful thing to do to a loved one. You need to know he’s okay. You need to know he’s alive. Your worry eats him alive, so no matter what, he finds the time to text back, even if it’s just a stupid period. He always texts back.

Tonight, you have texted him fifty-seven times in an hour. He always texts back, but tonight, he hasn’t. And it’s not his usual five-minute delay. 

You’ve been stuck whispering, “Please, be okay,” into the void of darkness, your phone, and God himself for hours and there has not yet been a sign that he is, in fact, okay. And it’s not just something that irks or frustrates you, it causes the pure essence of panic to course through your veins, grab your throat and keep you in a chokehold as you fall victim to the cruel spiral of your never-ending morbid thoughts. 

He hasn’t texted back or answered your calls in an hour and you’re starting to worry that this might be it. He might be lying in a dumpster again, barely hanging on, and this time Claire won’t be around. Or he is in the middle of a heated battle with his enemies and someone has managed to breach his suit and soon enough, he will be choking on his blood in a pool of red liquid without anyone around but him and his never-ending self-blame. He will take that to the grave, you know it. 

Your mind reels with the different possibilities, and none of them are pretty. He doesn’t simply forget to answer, that’s not like him, and he hasn’t been silent for longer than twenty minutes after being begged for a sign of life. You’re sure he hasn’t even read your messages, and at this point, you’re hyperventilating and you’re crying as you’re pacing the floorboards because damn you, Matt Murdock, you’ve had a deal. At this point, you’re sure he’s dead in a ditch somewhere and your last conversation will have been a phone call because you just had to do overtime at work. Your last conversation would have been about dinner plans you never got to fulfill. Your last conversation would have ended without an ‘I love you’ and that’s what breaks you; you love him more than anything and seeing him hurt always manages to hurt you even more, so thinking about him being dead or dying somewhere, without you, without support and without hope, it breaks the heart that loves him more than you love your own life. 

You call Foggy, you call Claire, you even call any other hospital in New York. They must think you’re crazy by now, but the nagging feeling that something is terribly wrong eats away at your heart and takes your breath away.

In front of your inner eyes, you can see his warm smile. You can feel his lips on your skin, his lingering kisses, and hushed confessions of how much he loves and adores you. You can hear his laugh and his corny jokes. But then you look further and you can see his bloody and bruised body lying there. You can see his scars, fresh wounds adorning his chest, his suit torn apart, and all of his shields gone. His chest heaves with his last few breaths and as he dies, he whispers your name. He calls out for you the way you always would when you’ve had a bad day – and you know it doesn’t compare, but you have never left each other alone when the other was struggling. You truly believed you would have more of these moments with him, you would get married and eventually start a family because you both said that it would heal the scars from your past. You wanted to move on and start a new and better life together, showing each other the love you lacked all this time from the people who were around you. But he is probably dead and there is no future for you if the man you love is dead.

You can’t imagine burying him. It hurts too much. Having to explain to Father Lantom what happened, having to stand at the altar and give a eulogy and say goodbye to him as he’s lying in an open casket, waiting to be laid to rest – these thoughts are so present, you can’t see anything but the truth in them. 

You’ve always feared this moment and now it’s here, and you don’t know how to act. You don’t know what to do. The uncertainty turns into assumptions and the assumptions turn into your worst enemy. 

He’s prepared you for this, but you refused to listen before. 

What kind of casket would Matt Murdock want, anyway?  

You choke on your own tears as you sink to your knees in front of the couch. You gave up on praying. God won’t hear you anyway. Your body is shaking and you’re not quite sure where to go with yourself, but you don’t exactly have anywhere to go either. 

You’re so focused on the only thing you can think of that you don’t hear the rooftop access creaking open or the heavy footsteps descending the stairs. 

“Sweetheart?” he sounds hoarse as he speaks into the dead of the night.

For a second, you think it’s a ghost, but then your instincts kick in and you look up, your cheeks stained with tears. 

“Oh, my God!” you say. 

Matt stands in the blue lighting of the billboard outside. His mask is on the floor, and his gloves have been discarded. He looks fine. He looks alive. 

You get off your knees and walk up to him, your steps determined. You yearn for him. Your broken heart starts mending, but the pain is still there, and the relief only makes you cry harder.

“You didn’t call,” your voice is barely above a whisper, “and I thought you died.”

His eyes soften. “My battery died,” he says. 

My battery died. You are such an idiot, you tell yourself. It’s one of the few things you haven’t even considered, and it’s the most logical. The stupid battery died because phone batteries die sometimes, and he doesn’t exactly have any other means of getting in contact when he is out there, and you have never felt more stupid for reacting the way you did. But also, the fact that there could have been some truth to your fears reminds you that your anxiety is never entirely without reason, especially not with him. Not with Matt Murdock, not with the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen as the man you fell in love with; with him, anxiety about his well-being is never entirely unreasonable. For a second though, you want nothing more than to slap yourself. 

Your breath shudders as you wrap your arms around his shoulders. “I thought I lost you.”

“Hey, it’s okay.” He instantly hugs you close to him. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking and I didn’t notice until now. I’m okay, baby. I’m here. I came back.”

“You’re here.” You lean back to check his face and body for injuries, but he’s okay. You prayed and he is okay, even though you still can barely believe your own eyes. “God… don’t ever do this to me again. I hate you so much.” Your fist collided with his shoulder and his face says as much as ‘I deserved that’. 

There are not many more places you can or want to hit him before the dam you’ve put up to hold back your tears after he stepped in breaks once again. 

He holds you as you cry. Feeling him close to you alive and breathing is a small victory, but it’s enough for now. It’s enough to give you a moment of relief, being in the arms of the man you love and being safe with him as he is safe with you. 

Still, it could have gone differently and tonight could have been the night he wouldn’t have come home to you because even though phones die, so do humans and with Matt, there is a very fine line. 

His hands find your face. Slowly, he leans forward to connect your lips. The kiss is gentle yet firm, a reminder from him that he’s okay. He places your hand on his chest as he does so, making you feel his rhythmic heartbeat through the fabric of his suit. You can feel his chest rise and fall beneath your shaky fingers. 

You whimper. “You’re really okay,” you say.

“I’m okay,” he says with a smile. “Nothing happened to me.”

“But you didn’t answer and I… you always answer. You always fucking answer, Matt, but you didn’t tonight. For hours, and I… God, you always answer and you didn’t. I was so scared.”

His face contorts. He can feel the pain in your voice, the vibrations hurting his ears and shaking him to his core. He figured before that his nightly rounds around Hell’s Kitchen keep you awake and worried, but he has never seen you this distraught before. 

Gently, he pulls you close again. “I’m sorry,” is all he can really say.

He knows your fear of him dying is not so far-fetched, and if his phone hadn’t died, the reason for his disappearance could have been more serious. He knows it, and it breaks his heart to hear your own breaking. 

You nuzzle your face into his neck, close to his pulse point. You feel him swallow, counting every heartbeat with precision just like he would yours. “Don’t ever die on me,” he hears you say against his hot skin, and he holds you impossibly closer. 

“Never,” Matt promises. He’s not sure why he makes a promise he doesn’t know if he can even keep it, but there is nothing he wants more than to be by your side for the rest of his life, and he doesn’t want to sacrifice what you have for anything, not even the chase.

So he makes a promise to you and himself, “From now on, I won’t leave the house without explicitly checking if my phone is charged, and I’ll make sure to check in every hour. I won’t ever leave you for so long again, and I won’t die on you. I love you,” he says. “I love you more than anything else in this world and I want to make this work. I can’t stand watching you break your heart and head over me and that needs to stop, so I promise I’m going to do everything in my power to make this easier, and I’m going to put in the most effort I humanly can.”

His eyes are stern when he looks just a little past yours, but he’s holding your face so tightly and close to his own, you can smell his breath, and his heartbeat under your fingers tells you he’s telling the truth. 

Your tears subside and you can muster a small smile that he would have given millions to see, just this once, just to see the relief and the love in your beautiful eyes. “I love you,” he repeats.

You don’t hesitate to kiss him, firmer than the one he gave you before. “And I love you,” you say. 

“Is that… Do you think we can make this work? That I can make this work? You deserve so much better and I intend to give that to you. Hurting you is the last thing I could possibly want and I hate myself so much that I did.”

“It’s okay, I know.” Your smile turns into a knowing breath of fresh air. “It’s not your fault.”

He hesitates before nodding, registering your words and allowing them to manifest. “Okay?” 

“Yeah, okay. I trust you, Matthew. I trust you with my body, soul, and my life, so there is nothing I’d consider impossible for you,” you say. “Just… just make sure you keep your promise and stay alive for me, okay? I need you to promise me.”

Your pleading time causes his eyes to soften even more so now. “I promise,” he says although he has many times before, but it soothes your conscience and he’s happiest when you’re happy. 

He promises to give you what you deserve, and you won’t ever have to cry because of him again. It’s something he holds dear to him and will do so until the day he dies, which he will make sure isn’t soon. 

As you lie in bed, the clock striking four am, you curl into him and you whisper the three words that have become your mantra, “I love you.” 

He kisses the crown of your head, tired but happy to be in your arms again. “I love you too, Angel,” he says. 

His heartbeat remains steady beneath your ear and you know, that man loves you as much as he says he does if not more, and it allows you to relish in the feeling of having him alive and well in bed with you again so you can finally close your eyes and get some much-needed rest. 

#matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #daredevil #daredevil x reader #gender neutral reader #matt murdock x you #reader insert #no y/n #matt murdock angst #matt murdock fluff #hurt/comfort #one shot #x reader #matt murdock fic #daredevil fic #daredevil x you #fluff #angst #i wrote this instead of sleeping #matt murdock imagines #human disaster matt murdock #not proof read #just rolled grammarly over this bitch and hoped for the best #still like it tho #lizzi writes (2am version)

[d1instigator]

features

the gentle rumble of the city could still be heard over the tv, it was a calm day for hobie and miles, a day of rest. where they could sit and enjoy each other’s company. it was miles’ favorite type of days.

hobies eyes are fixated on the the tv, miles legs long ago thrown over hobies and he’s tracing patterns onto miles shin. miles vision very quickly flickers from the stupid reality drama they’re watching, he just wanted to make sure hobie didn’t seem upset or anything. just checking in on him, however miles’ eyes linger, his sight skating up and down, up and down hobies face, torso, arms, legs, all of him. he looks back to hobies face, his eyes and lips in particular.

hobies eyes were so incredible. they could bore right through miles’ soul and read him cover to back yet, there was so much tenderness and warmth in the depths of his irises and pupils. and his lips, miles practically melted when hobie pulled that all-knowing smirk, and they were so full, they encased miles’ when him and hobie would kiss. and that lip ring? miles is gone, on a completely different planet. sometimes when hobie would pull him in by the waist, miles would shoot his hands up to hobies jaw and caress his thumb over his lips and he would stop, just for a moment, to toy with the piercing.

“‘ave i got something on my face, love?” hobie smirked.

miles snapped out of his hobie induced trance. the tips of his ears and cheeks turning pink in the process.

“nah, just enjoying the view i’ve been given.” miles swings his legs off of hobies lap and sits up properly next to him.

“do ya’ want an up close view then, sweets?” it was rhetorical. hobie already knew the answer, pulling miles over to straddle his lap. and nobody needs to know that miles shivered when hobie engulfed miles in a kiss and he could feel his piercing against his own lips.

#punkflower #hobie brown #miles morales #sorry if theyre ooc T-T #spider man: across the spider verse #miles x hobie #atsv #i wrote this instead of sleeping

[erenfox]

Me when I read this:

#thaluke #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #thalia grace #luke castellan #i wrote this instead of sleeping

[strwbrrymlkjh]

I can't say 'hello' to you and risk another goodbye

alhaitham x gn! reader

it was a casual day of strolling through the city looking for a gift for cyno and you never thought you would bump into someone you have avoided for a long time.

a/n: angst, hopeful ending, maybe OOC Alhaitham, title from 'i almost do' by taylor swift

wc: 2.5k

AO3

Every year on June twenty-third, you and your friends gather to celebrate Cyno’s birthday. And with birthdays comes gifts. You were not able to attend his celebration for the previous year so you were trying to make it up to him this year by giving him something special. It was a casual day of strolling through the city looking for the most appropriate gift and the last thing you thought would happen was you bumping into someone you have avoided for a long time.

As it turns out, listing off TCG card shops inside your head was not a very good idea as you will be too preoccupied to notice the the tall figure standing in your way, too immersed in his own world as well.

It all happened so fast. One second you were walking and the next, a strong hand is holding your forearm to prevent you from falling face first on the sidewalk and embarrassing yourself in front of countless people. You are about to apologize for not looking at where you are going and having your head in the clouds but your words get caught in your throat once you take a good look at your savior.

Standing in front of you with the same towering height, serious and calculating eyes and extremely familiar soundproof earpieces is your former boyfriend Alhaitham. Scanning him from head to toe, you think that you might fall again despite his strong grip on your arm. You will gladly do so and let the earth swallow you from where you lay if it means saving yourself from interacting with him.

You are convinced that the universe is out to get you as Alhaitham slowly and carefully lets go of your arm and removes the device covering his ears.

"Are you hurt?” He asked while placing the earpieces on his neck. You shook your head no as you brushed off the imaginary dust on your pants. The feeling of his touch lingers on your arm.

"I should ask you the same thing. I was not really looking at where I am going so it was my fault for bumping into you. Sorry.” You responded sheepishly while staring at the tiles that adorned the street.

"I’m fine.” Still a man of few words, you taught.

You finally had the courage to steal a glance from him only to find that he was already staring at you. Averting your gaze as quickly as possible, you started thinking of ways to flee. You wanted this meeting to end as soon as possible, to run as fast and as far away from here as you can, but you couldn’t. It was as if your feet were glued to the floor as you tried to make up excuses in your head.

Oh, that’s it. You should just tell him that you were looking for a gift for someone.

"Uhm, I should -” you started.

"Are you here to buy something for Cyno?”

You stopped in your tracks. Ah, yes. Cyno is one of your mutual friends.

You almost forgot about that fact as it has been a year since you last spent time with Alhaitham. Twelve months of radio silence and actively going out of your way to avoid him. Anyone would think that you two had a bad breakup. If only that was what really happened.

You have been captivated by Alhaitham the first time you saw him when you were children. As a child, you did not understand why but he was the first and only person that made your heart beat so fast you could feel it on your tongue.

Confessing your feelings for him was a spur-of-the-moment decision. He just looked so beautiful that day silently standing beside you as you wait for your fellow scholars at Pardis Dhyai. His turquoise eyes glowing in the sunlight, gray hair dancing in the wind. You would not have been able to stop yourself from telling him that you like him even if you wanted to. To your disbelief, the aloof and stoic man agreed to go out with you.

Everything was going well at first. You were trying to get to know him on a different level - memorize his quirks, the things that make him tick. All your friends are happy for you both. But soon enough, the consequences of entering something without giving it much thought caught up to you.

You were hoping for a change in him once you became his significant other. Maybe a little more affection and communication. Instead, you felt alone in the relationship - always the only one to remember the important details about the other, always the only one initiating and planning dates.

You did not want him to change. You just wanted him to make you feel that he wanted you too. That he wanted to stay in this relationship with you.

At some point, you felt that you were burdening him with your presence, that you were disrupting his life. You start drowning yourself in what-ifs, your insecurities like fire gnawing at your stomach. Maybe he really is not the one for you, that there is someone out there for him. Someone you could never be; a person kinder and better than you. Better for him.

Ending what you had was not something you thought would happen but thinking about prolonging the agony for the both of you was more than enough reason to call it quits. So you did. And just like when you two got together, he simply nodded his head and agreed to break up with you.

You knew that being in his presence, even as friends, would only make you fall harder than ever before. You were trying so hard not to regret your decision so you decided to keep your distance. No speaking to each other, no stealing glances. You even refused to be in the same room as him until you have completely moved on.

In the past year where the both of you did not have a single significant interaction, you were confident that any trace of affection for him has completely disappeared. You thought you would be able to look at him without feeling any pain or regret.

That was not the case, it seems.

You were back to square one, feeling exactly the same way you felt that day you confessed to him. You wanted to reach out and wrap your arms around his waist, card your fingers through his hair, stare into those eyes and get lost in them. But you know you can’t do those things anymore.

You noticed that he was still waiting for your answer so you nodded, not trusting your words.

"I should get going.” You whispered, not wanting to spend another second in his presence lest you cry and confess your feelings for the second time.

It was rude to just leave him there without saying a proper goodbye but your tears were threatening to spill from your eyes so you just gave him a nod and without waiting for his reply, turned around and began walking away.

A quick escape is what you were expecting. What you were not expecting was nearly jumping out of your skin when his large hand made contact with your wrist and pulled you back to where you were standing seconds ago.

You stared at him with wide eyes, and judging by the look on his face, he was also shocked by what he had done. It took him a few more moments to get out of whatever trance he was in and he quickly released your hand.

“Uhm.” You did not know what else to say. Even after all this time, Alhaitham still has that effect on you.<

"I need your help,” He said. You looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to elaborate.

Noticing this, he added, “I have not chosen a gift for Cyno yet.”

Ohh

“Is it alright if I come with you?”

Everything in you was screaming to say no and walk away just as you planned. But you know you can never refuse this man, another thing that remains a fact even if you are not together anymore.

“Sure. No problem.” You responded in a small voice. You are convinced that your mind is playing tricks on you when you see a small smile grace his handsome face. His smiles were rare, after all.

“I was planning on buying something from there.” You pointed to a nearby trinket shop with TCG card banners hanging at the front.

“Lead the way.” He pushed the glass door and let you step inside first before trailing behind you. Your eyes scanned the objects on the display shelves and you felt the tears pricking your eyes once again.

“Alhaitham.” you called out his name which caught his attention. Saying it out loud felt foreign to your tongue after a long time of only whispering it in your head. The man turned around and stared at you.

“I’m going to look for TCG cards over there.” You pointed at the back of the shop. He kept his gaze on you for a few seconds before nodding his head.

You wiped the stray tears that escaped from your eyes while looking at the cards. You were not in your right mind to pick anything decent so you made it your goal to agree on the first thing that Alhaitham picks and leave like you originally planned to. You can always come back here before Cyno’s birthday anyway.

You lingered for a few more minutes, giving Alhaitham enough time to pick something. It was then that you noticed a shelf displaying preserved flowers in glass encasements. One particular flower caught your eye, a Padisarah.

It looked so beautiful inside the glass encasement, as if suspended in time. You smiled at the thought. If only you could have frozen time that day you confessed to Alhaitham, when the only thing you can feel is the overwhelming love you have for him. Maybe you would not feel as if a part of you was missing. Maybe then you would not have to spend sleepless nights being a prisoner of your thoughts, dissecting every interaction with him, trying to find some sort of signal that he likes you as much as you like him. Until now, it was almost impossible to tell how he feels about you.

You were so lost in your thoughts that you failed to notice Alhaitham’s presence behind you.

“Have you found something?” You were startled as you suddenly heard his deep voice. He has caught you staring so intently at the flowers that he can’t help but examine it too.

You needed to get out of here. “I have to go. Kaveh told me he needs help with things.” was your lame excuse.

Alhaitham looked like he was about to say something. Instead he kept his mouth shut and nodded his head with an indescribable look on his face. You felt bad for lying but you did not want to break down inside the store in front of him.

“I’m sorry. Maybe you’ll find something here.” You headed straight for the shop’s doors. You have no idea where you are headed but you really just want some place where you can let your tears out.

You have always been an emotional person. It was one of the key differences between you and Alhaitham. Despite this, he has been very patient with you - always accompanying you to wherever you wanted to go, helping you with the lessons that you found difficult to understand, silently listening to your rants after a bad day. The memory made you realize that he showed his affection for you in his own ways.

Maybe he was not lacking, you were simply not content.

You have not made it to your car when the unshed tears started escaping and soon enough, you were bawling your eyes out. For the first time since you convinced yourself that you have moved on, you allowed yourself to cry.

You were sitting on the curb trying to control your breathing when you heard a familiar voice call out your name. Lifting your head, you saw a disheveled Alhaitham holding a paper bag with the logo of the shop where you left him.

You did not have time to wipe your tears away when he suddenly bent down and wrapped his arms around you, resting his chin on the top of your head.

I am so sorry,” the man whispered, his hold around you tightening. You were too shocked to even say a word. What is going on?

“I know I am the last person you want to see but I need you to know that I am so sorry for not saying anything and letting you walk away. I should have - “ his voice cracked.

“I should have said something.” he rested his head on your shoulder. You, still at a loss for words, became acutely aware of the close proximity of your faces. At this angle, you could see how tightly he has his eyes closed, as if stopping tears that are threatening to spill.

In a hoarse and broken voice, he continued, “Everyday, in a sea of faces, I find myself looking for yours. I missed you so much. You have no idea.”

You placed your hand on his cheeks urging him to pull back and allow you to properly look at him. It was the first time that you have seen him with this distraught and worried look on his handsome face.

He lifted the paper bag on the floor behind you and presented it to you. You opened the bag and the content was not something you were expecting. It was the preserved Padisarah you were staring at earlier.

You did not know what to say. You did not know what this meant. You looked at Alhaitham, hoping he has the answers to your unsaid questions.

“I thought you were shopping for Cyno.”

“I wasn't,” he admitted. Then closed his eyes and took a deep breath, as if preparing himself for something. “I had no idea how to keep you from leaving and it was the only excuse I could come up with.”

"Please accept it. I will not inconvenience you any longer.” Your eyes widened at his words. He took your silence as a sign that you did not want anything to do with him. He started getting up and walking away but you were still frozen in your place.

You were hesitating, still in the prison of what-ifs you made for yourself. Between the both of you, Alhaitham was never the emotional one but he had been very honest with his feelings today and it was only fair for you to reciprocate. This was the second chance that you did not know you had been waiting for and you’ll be damned if you let it slip away.

Wiping your eyes, you stared at the flower as you placed it back carefully inside the bag before chasing after the man you’ve loved for so long that you can’t imagine ever loving someone else again.

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin angst #genshin impact angst #alhaitham #alhaitham x you #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham angst #i wrote this instead of sleeping #getting back together #hopeful ending #genshin x reader #genshin #alhaitham x y/n #genshin impact alhaitham #genshin imagines #genshin fanfic #genshin alhaitham #tags are hard

[hum-suffer]

"You're my god." Said Kans, looking at the pregnant belly of his sister, looking at the future that was predicted to kill him. How bad must the child be, if it had the potential of killing him. A murderer. A god.

"You're my god." Whispered Vasudev as he kissed the forehead of an infant, who was covered in blood from his mother's womb still and yet smiled prettily at his father. He had saved him from rain and flood. A rescuer. A god.

"You're my god." Said Yashoda, cradling him in her arms, laughing and kissing his dusky cheeks. She held him close to her chest and somehow, she felt her heart align with every giggle he let out. An enchanter. A god.

"You're my god." Said Nand, as he ruffled his son's hair that curled in ringlets that shined even in darkness. Yashoda had told him of their son's miracles. Universe in his mouth. Somehow, beyond his love for her, Nand believed her. His played with his fingers. A hope. A god.

"You're my god." Said Radha, laughing as he bowed in front of her with flowers of different colours and scents. Tears dried whenever he appeared. She flourished with him, her becoming simply more. A flash of mischievous smiles, and she was his. A melody. A god.

"You're my god." Said Ugrasen. Bones and frail flesh scarring, hands shaking as he was held. Dusky and smooth skin contrasted every silver scar he had and blood returned to his fingers once more. He stained his grandson's yellow clothes with his blood. A healer. A god.

"You're my god." Smiled Rukmini, an open secret between the two of them, eyes shining with love that none could see but him. His hands held her feet and helped her up. He led her, homeward bound once more. Home wasn't a palace, home was at his side. A love. A god.

"You're my god." Said Sudama, tears glistening in his eyes as he gazed at the shredded skin of his friend's feet. Blood that rewrote everything that Sudama ever had been, blood that bled when words failed. A shelter. A god.

"You're my god." Said Arjun, meeting a cousin he never wished to part from, recently married and aching raw. Morals broken, vow forsaken. A hand held him up, a shoulder to lean on. A saviour. A god.

"You're my god." Said Yudhisthir as he knelt before a throne of his own, blood on his hands of those who lived before him. Blood stained hands washed the feet of the man who was the reason the throne was built. A kingmaker. A god.

"You're my god." Draupadi sobbed in his arms, bruises littering her face and arms, lip burst and forehead cut. At his feet, reverently cursing all and blessing him all the same. Lonely, inviting death with every word. A protector. A god.

"You're my god." Gandhari wailed, an accusation on her lips and tears coming to her throat. Blood dripped down her knuckles from where she had hit him fruitlessly. Her words, punctured and breaths shallow, all but dead. A killer. A god.

"You're my god." Balram tells him, calm and serene. So unlike everything they saw in their mortal lives. His clothes suffocate his skin almost beautifully and the sunset is something to watch. He's not watched the sunset since he was six, he thinks. He's not properly felt the sunset in this lifetime.

He smiles at his younger brother. The brother he was supposed to protect. The accusations still make ugly scars on his skin and Balram wants to accuse them all back for a moment. They never knew his god. None of them, except his Mata, knew his god. So serene, so calm, so wise, so innocent. His god is everything and anything and nothing at once.

They don't know what godhood is.

And as Balram leaves his body to return to his abode once more, he wishes they knew better. He wishes they didn't claim to know godhood or his god.

He waits to be reunited with his god and goddess again.

#hindu gods #desiblr #suffer ye suhana nahi #desi tumblr #hindublr #thoughts #krishna #yashoda #nand #rukmini #radharani #balram #dwarka #arjun #yudhishthir #draupadi #subhadra #did i work on this for two hours? yes #i wrote this instead of sleeping #writers on tumblr #gopiblr #krishnablr

[injuries-in-dust]

Alien: My human won't talk to me. They just act mad at me.

Councillor hologram: Can you think of anything you may have done which could have annoyed the human?

Alien: Nothing. We've been getting along very well for as long as we've known each other.

Councillor hologram: Perhaps you did something without meaning to. Talk me through the events which occurred prior to the human being angry. Maybe I will be able to detect where a possible mistake occurred.

Alien: everything was normal. I woke up, prepared breakfast. My human awoke, we talked, and suddenly they seemed angry at me.

Councillor hologram: perhaps it was something that was said. What did you talk about?

Alien *shrugging*: I didn't say much, they were the ones doing most of the talking. They were telling me about an unusual REM induced vision they experienced.

Councillor: humans call them "dreams."

Alien*nods*: Yeah, that's the word. Well, apparently, they dreamt that the two of us were getting prepared for a space-walk. Then the version of me in the dream told them something like, "I'm breaking up with you." And then proceeded to push them out of the airlock before they could put in their EVA suit.

Councillor hologram: Apologise!

Alien: For what?

Councillor hologram: for what you did.

Alien *shocked*: but I didn't do anything.

Councillor hologram: but your human dreamed that you did. You need to apologise for it. Bring some of their favourite human treats. They will forgive you, in time. They will accept it was a dream, eventually. But first, you need to apologise.

Alien: but that doesn't make any logical sense.

Councillor *nods*: is that not the definition of "human behaviour?"

#humans are strange #humans are weird #humans are space orcs #3am idea #should be sleeping #i wrote this instead of sleeping