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#really thank you so much for sending this ask
ghoulphile · 2 days
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wish you'd make me cry | c.h./the ghoul
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➥ pairing | cooper howard/the ghoul x f!reader ➥ word count | 2.3k ➥ warning(s) | 🔞 smut; rough, dom!cooper, frottage, sitting missionary, dirty talk, degradation kink, pet names, teasing, dacryphilia, bareback, drug/chem use (jet), shotgunning, high sex ➥ summary | "You’re such a needy fucking brat." :3c ➥ notes | drabble (that's no longer a drabble lol) request for @tearueful, thank you bby!! this one really got away from me... i had to stop myself from writing lol. un-beta'd atm. masterlist | feel free to send in thots, questions, requests! | feedback is always appreciated ❤️
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Setting up camp for the night in an abandoned warehouse, you and Cooper wait out a radstorm that blows in off the horizon. Because while he loves sitting outside with a smoke, soaking in the rads until he’s buzzing with frenetic energy, you don’t feel like hunting down RadAway tomorrow.
It’s quiet apart from the distant sound of super mutants and ferals roaming the city, the sporadic roar of thunder, and rain tinging off the sheet metal roof. There’s still hours left until daylight, and it doesn’t seem like the volatile weather will break soon.
Unfortunately, you’ve read all the Grognak comics you could get your grubby hands on three times over, and there’s not much else to pass the time besides scuff your boot along the concrete floor, and pluck at a stray thread hanging off your tattered sleeping bag.
Meanwhile, Cooper lounges on his side, unbothered. His hand - bare for once - props up his head, the unscarred skin of a commandeered digit stark against angry rad burns and ropey scars. Between the knuckles of his other hand, he rolls a vial of chem over and over in a mesmerizing flick of deft fingers.
A lantern sputters between you as the old battery struggles to keep it lit. Its jaundiced glow banishes the thick darkness; a fuzzy halo of light that elongates shadows and deepens the cuts of his face.
You kiss your teeth, and say, “Hey, you got any more Jet?”
Lazy eyes slide towards you. A hairless brow quirks. “And if I did,” he asks, the vial pausing between his fingers, “why you wanna know?”
“Dunno, I’m bored… wanna get high?”
“Well, shit,” he whistles, bares his teeth. A low, crackling laugh rumbles from his chest. “Why the fuck didn’t you ask sooner.”
You shrug and crack a knuckle.
To be honest, the idea hadn’t occurred to you at first. Now that it has, anticipation curls low in your belly. Not only has it been a long, long time since you last got high (the sensation a hazy, half-remembered dream of fuzzy warmth and whirling thoughts), you know Cooper always carries a top-notch stash.
The little chem fiend, you think fondly.
“So,” you prompt. “Wanna get high together or what?”
“Sure as shit, darlin’. Let’s party.”
He settles against the pockmarked wall beside you with a soft grunt, the grit of concrete digging into his back. Thigh to thigh, his body is a rad warm line of heat. A bloom of suffocating heat in the otherwise biting chill of a wasteland night. Gunpowder and smoke tickle your nose when he leans over to rifle through his bag, leather creaking.
Muted, mellow; everything fades into a silent companionship as you pass the red inhaler between you. With every puff, whorls of smoke curl from your mouths until a murky gray cloud hovers in the air; defining the edges of your crafted universe.
The acrid vapor of chem burns its way through your lungs and into your bloodstream. A bitter taste coats your fattened tongue, lips tingling as your palm smothers little coughs. A flood of static rushes down your nerve endings, sends your head spinning.
As your vision blurs, the tension leeches from rounded shoulders with a bone weary sigh. And with every slow clicking blink, colors spark to life in a distorted kaleidoscope. Head lolling to the side, you watch through heavy eyes as Cooper rattles the inhaler and takes a shallow hit.
When he exhales, little tendrils of smoke caress the plains of his cheek. Dance along the hollow nasal ridge. “Almost out.” He grunts, your fingers brushing when he passes the cartridge back. “Go on, now. Finish it.”
The kind gesture (for him) touches you.
Then a faraway thought flutters.
Snags - settles into a nebulous desire.
And before you can second guess yourself, a rumble of thunder shakes the building. Wipes away the last of your common sense, and reservations. After all, why not? He was nice enough to share. You can too.
To his credit, Cooper doesn’t startle when you slink into his lap - not that you expect him to, even without being chem-addled. He tracks your movements from beneath a heavy brow bone, the dark Nuka Cola of his eyes glittering like shattered glass in the wane light.
“Heh, this that kinda party then, darlin’?” he asks once you settle, your thighs draped over his hips and your ass flush with his crotch. “‘Cuz you’ll be wanting ta extricate yourself if it ain’t.”
—Before I do it for you.
Humming, you dip forward until your breasts brush over the wide expanse of his chest. Interest flickers to life behind your navel; cinders cracking and popping along your spine. While you’d never considered Cooper a sexual availability beforehand (what with his never-ending search for family), the laden weight of his gaze as it pauses on your chin before dropping lower sings through your blood.
Kickstarts your heart into a galloping stutter that thuds against your ribcage as longing hooks behind your navel, tugs sudden and sharp. The world spins.
Maybe, you think, peering at him from beneath the fan of your lashes. Maybe…
“Pervert,” you murmur, biting down on a small smile.
The knife-sharp smirk falls from his lips faster than a comedown from Psycho when your fingertips ghost over the curve of his jaw, turning his head towards you. Like this, you share breath, the scant space between you thrumming with energy.
So close you can see flecks of gold in the amber whiskey of his eyes.
Your forehead brushes over his; the rough drag of gnarled skin sending a shiver through your limbs. “Let’s share the last hit. S’only fair.”
Pausing, he considers you for several long moments.
His gaze bounces from yours to the playful curve of your mouth and back. A small eternity passes like this. And then - when you’re about to crawl away to lick your wounded pride - the most imperceptible of nods grants his assent.
There’s a hiss of aerosol, a lung burning inhale, and then you’re exhaling into the open gash of his mouth.
Wisps of smoke dance off your tongue onto his, the bow of your lips glancing off the swell of his top lip as you squirm closer. You feed him chem in a slow, steady stream until all the air has left you.
He groans - a wounded, low-throated sound.
Your eyes flutter open to find him already staring, his iris a thin ring around the Blackhole of his wide blown pupils. Hooded, hungry: a caged predator. You lick your lips, and in doing so, flick your tongue over his.
Your stomach swoops, “I --”
“You’re such a needy fuckin’ brat, y’know that, sweetheart?”
Whether it was an apology or some other retort stuck to the back of your teeth like hard candy, you’ll never know because in the next moment a rough hand knocks the Jet out of your hand. The inhaler cracks against the concrete with a plastic smack before skidding off into the darkness.
A burning palm curls around your wrist, calloused fingers digging into your fluttering pulse point. “Hey — hngg!”
He yanks you close, and you taste the violence in his kiss.
Harsh lips map out the softness of yours as teeth pinch and roll until your mouth is a swollen mess of tender flesh and smeared spit. Keeping up with the frenzied scrape of his tongue and the deep pulls of his kisses is like trying to weather a hurricane or fight off a Yao Guai with a single bullet.
“W-Wait,” you gasp, fingers twined through the lapels of his duster. “I don’t --”
“Shut up,” Cooper growls, worrying the swell of your bottom lip until a bead of blood bubbles to the surface. He sucks it away with a stifled moan, his hips kicking up against the plush of your ass.
“Shut the fuck up right now. You know what you was doing - trying ta act innocent when you’ve been gaggin’ for it.”
Flustered, you pull back, “No, that’s not true!”
It’s hard to keep your balance with chem pumping through your veins, and you sway to the side. The only thing keeping you upright is the bruising grip Cooper has on your wrist. “I haven’t been — you’re wr-rong.”
He spits out a mean spirited chuckle. “If that’s what you need ta tell yourself, sweetheart.” A critical eye drags down the pathetic sight you make, crumbled as you are in his lap. “But I know the truth. I felt you looking - pantin’ after me like a bitch in heat.”
“...”
Panic grips you by the throat, your pulse thundering against the thumb he strokes along the curve of your shoulder. You should’ve known better.
Of course, he’d notice.
He was The Ghoul after all - best bounty hunter from this coast to the next. It was his job to perceive everything around him, sus out friend from foe.
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
“I’m… I’m sorry.”
What else can you say?
He brought you along (for whatever reason, fuck if you know why), and you’ve caused nothing but trouble every step of the way. It’s a wasteland miracle he hasn’t kicked your ass and left you bleeding in the dirt by now.
I have to fix this. Whatever it takes.
“I ain’t wanting you sorry.”
Gulping, you will away the sting of tears, and say, “Please, don’t kick me out.”
“Y’know, sometimes I think it’s a miracle you survived this long at all.”
“You don’t have to be so rude about it…” 
“Listen good and well, sugar,” he says with a roll of his eyes, that tender hand brushing over your neck turning into a collar as he drags you close. His lips whisper over yours with every word. “I didn’t go through all of this bullshit just ta get rid of you. Now--”
Hips rut up into you, dragging the firm line of his growing erection along the soft globes of your ass. “Stop teasin’ and make yourself useful,” he says. “Or you will be sorry.”
Everything after that flicks in and out of focus like a zoetrope: the burning clasp of hands, the slick glide of hungry mouths, the frantic rock of your hips as you both chase after dry friction with a desperation that borders on madness.
Your hands don’t know where to settle, fluttering from the nape of his neck to the breadth of his shoulders to the rippling muscle of his stomach as he rocks into you. Bites at any exposed skin that he can until his teeth leave marks you’ll carry for days.
All the while the hard edges of his body crash into your softness like waves against an eroding shore. Liquid fire blazes in your belly like a raging wildfire, scorching you from the inside out until you’re dumb and dripping.
The chem snaking through your body enhances the littlest of sensations until you feel like one giant exposed nerve. Slick drenched and sweaty, you moan weakly and rest your forehead against his cheek.
“Please,” you slur, thighs trembling where they squeeze at his live-wire hips. “S’not enough - need more. Wanna cum. Please, please, please. Make me cum.”
Cooper bites out a curse, his fingers biting into the fat of your ass. “Yeah, s’that right, sweetheart - d’you think you deserve it for bein’ such a lil brat?”
“Yes, yes, please, I’ll do anything. Just - hhahh, fuck!”
The fabric of your panties clings to your folds, and your pants chafe.
Your clit throbs with every thud of your heartbeat, every firm grind of his cock and low husk of his voice. Want him seated so deep inside you choke - your poor pussy struggling to take his cock as he rides you so hard you cry.
“Anything?” he asks with a breathless chuckle.
The devilish gleam of his eyes rattles your bones, shivers of electric anticipation fizzing through your veins like Quantum.
“Well, shit. Don’t come cryin’ ta me when you regret it. Now, take off those fucking pants and ride my cock like a good girl.”
And when he bullies his way inside, those thick ridges dragging along gummy walls, you almost swallow your tongue. He’s so big - the biggest you’ve ever had.
Every inch is a struggle, a victory. He’s not patient, he’s not kind. You don’t want it any other way, spread so wide your pussy flutters pathetically, trying to push him out.
Then the fat head grazes past the rough patch of your g-spot, sliding home to kiss your cervix. Your knees lock around his ribs, your head tossing back as a high-pitched whine punches its way out of your throat.
“A-Ah! I can’t — oh shit — you’re so,” you babble. “Too much!”
An ache spears deep, roots behind your navel.
“Heh, you asked for it, sweetheart. Look at me.” A scarred thumb wicks away a tear as you peel your eyes open with a sniffle. “That’s it. Shit, you look s’pretty when you cry.”
He licks his skin clean, uses his wet thumb to reach between you and roll the pad over your abused clit. You jump, sliding up on his shaft only for gravity to drag you back down with a solid smack of skin, your limbs jello soft.
The motion slams him deeper and slick drips from you in a sticky gush to soak his balls. You cry out, reedy thin.
Cooper grunts, warns, “You keep doing that and we’re not stoppin’ til you’re dripping cum.”
Though the thick haze of chem and syrupy sweet pleasure, you cobble together a grin and lick your way into his mouth. Tangle your tongues and suck as your hips arch into his. “Please, ruin me,” you breathe.
A possessive greed glints at you from the depths of his hangman eyes.
“Don’t go sayin’ I didn’t warn you, sweetheart,” he promises.
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luveline · 1 day
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omg I just saw your post about Steve where you asked which Steve we wanted. I'm missing KBD Steve so bad rn. Anything like a family movie night would really just heal my soul rn! (love your writings so much btw)
ty for requesting <3 mom!reader, 1k
“Did you play guitar?” 
Steve slinks further down into the corner of the couch, Avery too big but exactly where she’s meant to be in his lap. She’s affectionate from years of the world's most ridiculous parents, he assumes, so he could have Avery sit beside him rather than on top of him, but why bother? She’s gentle about how she sits despite her long limbs, swinging one arm behind his neck as she gets comfortable against his chest. 
“Did I what?” Steve asks. 
“Play guitar?” She points at the TV. “Uncle Eddie plays guitar.” 
“I can play a little bit, nothing like Uncle Eddie,” he says. “Just enough to serenade mom. I’d sing her all her favourites.” 
“So you had a guitar? Where did it go?” 
“I don’t know, babe. Maybe in the attic? There’s not room for all our stuff sometimes, so me and mom box it up and put it up there.” He looks at her knowingly. “Why, do you wanna try?” 
“Can I?” she asks. 
“Not tonight, but tomorrow? Is that okay? I’ll have to get the ladder from the garage, and we’re gonna watch a movie soon.” 
Avery’s pretty easy, as kids go. When Steve says tomorrow she doesn’t whine. In fact, she gives him a grateful, shining smile, the arm that’s laid across the front of him curling tighter as she presses her face into his neck. “Thanks, daddy.” 
He thinks that it’s because he’d guessed what she wanted. But that’s his job, to understand her and make her happy. “You’re welcome.” Then, because he loves her and he’s feeling quite loved up by her hugging and the feeling of her hair under his chin, he drops his voice into some rare parentese for her, “I bet you’ll be great at it. It takes some patience, but you have so much of it, and then you can play anything.” 
She giggles. “Like the song from The Neverending Story?” 
Steve’s heard enough of that song to last him a lifetime. “What about that song you and mom like? Have you seen her?” He’s tempted to sing it, and he figures it won’t hurt under his breath, “So fine and pretty, fooled me with her style and ease–”
Dove interrupts with a laugh as she tries to join in. The words escape her, but her passion makes up for it. She climbs up from her seat across the couch, sending the jellybeans she’d been holding in the lap of her nightgown careening across the living room floor. 
“Dove!” Avery says. 
“It’s okay, I’ll get them,” you say, standing just in front of the doorway with a towel around your shoulders. 
Steve hadn’t known you were there, you were gone so long for your shower he honestly forgot what you were doing. He groans as Dove drops her face into his jaw, what a disaster, but she doesn’t cry so he brushes it off while you clean up.
“Dove’s gonna help,” Steve insists. “Aren’t you, babe? Ow. You’re gonna help mom pick up your jellybeans. Ow, baby, don’t step on me.” 
“No,” Dove says with a giggle. “Sing again, daddy.” 
Beth jumps in behind you in fresh pyjamas, her hair damp and water wetting the neck of her t-shirt. That’s why you’d taken so long —your shower had been commandeered. It’s nice to see you both in some comfy pyjamas, better to see his lovely Beth feeling better. She’d been sick for so long it was starting to make him depressed; seeing her invigorated after a good shower and chasing down jellybeans with a mischievous smile makes his night. “I got them!” she says. “I got them, mom. There’s like, seven.” 
You hold out your hand. “Thank you. I think you got all of them.” 
Steve misses the rest of your conversation, a chubby palm smushed to his nose that he attempts to throw off. Avery giggles at his misfortune as Dove says, “Sing! Sing!” 
“I can’t sing, I can’t breathe,” he says. 
Dove pulls her hand back. She’s as close to rolling her eyes as she can get. “Sing.” 
“Now I can’t, Dove, you’re making me shy.” 
“Dad!” 
“You sing,” he suggests, leaning back, shielding Avery from her younger sister’s volatility with his arms. 
“We’re gonna sing so much.” You beam as you unveil the VHS tape for tonight’s movie. In time, your three girls gasp aloud. “Daddy’s favourite movie, the Little Mermaid!” 
“It’s not my favourite movie. That movie is my enemy. It makes all my babies cry.” Even Dove ends up in tears, though she usually cries when Ariel’s upset, rather than during Part of That World like her sisters do. 
“It makes you cry,” Beth says. 
“Beth, do we have a problem?” he asks. “Are you trying to get into a fight with me?” 
Beth grins and runs across the rug to climb up on the couch where Steve’s being submerged. She sits down by Doves’s feet, wrapping her arms around Dove’s little tummy, squishing herself to Steve’s side. “No, dad. I love you.” 
“I don’t believe you. I think you know you’ll lose if we wrestle.” 
You snort. Steve steals a glance at you between all the little arms, your hip pressed to the TV stand, your lip between your teeth as you click the wrong button. It’s not like you’re stupid, just the TV is old, and half the buttons don’t do what it is they say they do anymore. Your nose wrinkles and you backtrack, and Steve wishes he was standing right there to smooth it over with his thumb. After a few seconds of searching (and harassment on his end, Dove’s fingers dangerously close to his ear) you click the right thing and the tape that the girls were watching before dinner pops out. 
You smile to yourself at a job well done. Steve smiles at you, though you don’t see him doing it. 
“Your moms kinda pretty, huh?” he asks Avery. 
“Not kinda, super.” 
“How’s the baby?” you ask. 
Steve gives the baby monitor on the table by the couch a tap with his finger to make sure it’s still on. Feedback whines. “She’s hasn’t made a peep since your shower, honey.” 
“Maybe I’ll go see if she’s okay before the movie comes on. Miss the previews.” 
He can’t wait for you to sit down. “Okie dokie. Give her a kiss for me.” 
You raise your hand in scout’s honour. As you’re walking up the stairs, Avery shifts in Steve’s lap and asks, “You smile at mom all the time, does it make your cheeks hurt?” 
He sews a hand behind Beth’s back. “Nope. I have strong cheek muscles.” 
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formula1blog · 1 day
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hey could you write about Carlos Sainz. Y/N is a 24 year old Spanish journalist and she and Carlos flirt all the time in front of the camera and Lando and Charles make fun of Carlos because he is always looking forward to doing an interview with Y/N ​​because they flirt hard every time. two that on twitter they created a hashtag on the flirting moments between y/n and carlos
Behind The Camera
Carlos Sainz x Spanish Journalist fem!reader
A/N: I hope this is wat you meant. I never worked with these fake apps before, so don't pay too much attention to dates and times.
One of the flirting scenes is highly based on that one Sebastian Vettel interview.
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The paddock was buzzing with people from all around the world. Grand stands were filled with the colors of different teams and drivers. There were big crowds of orange for the hometown heroes, Max verstappen and Lando Norris.
Cheers were heard as Carlos crossed the finish line in p2, just behind his teammate and in front of his old one. The red bull had crashed out of the race after the touch when Sergio Perez tried to overtake the Dutch man. Unfortunately both of the cars tuned into each other, moving Carlos up to third. After the pitstops he had managed to do an undercut on the Mclaren driver and finished on the second podium place.
"That is P2, mate. Good job," his race engineer congratulated him through the radio, prompting Carlos to let out an excited scream.
"Vamos!" he exclaimed, parking his car in front of the P2 sign and stepping out with a wide grin on his face. Charles stood on top of his own car, proudly displaying one finger in the air to signify his win. Carlos congratulated his fellow driver on the victory before turning to his team and embracing them in a warm hug, celebrating their shared success. It is a good day for the Ferrari fans and that didn't happen often.
.
"Congratulations Carlos on your p2. How are you feeling?" You ask with a bright smile on your face. You always loved interviewing Carlos. He is always really nice and you have nice conversations behind the cameras. Also a plus point that he drives for your favorite team.
"Great now that you are here," he answers, his eyes twinkling as he gives you a wink that sends a shiver down your spine. You have to try hard not to blush at the man's charming comment. "It's a great day for the team with a 1-2 finish. I hope we have more of these moments to come."
"You were absolutely flying out there today. Your performance was outstanding. I am sure that you have more of these moments. "
Carlos smiles at your words, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than necessary. "Thank you. The car felt great and the team did a great job with the undercut." He had been looking forward to seeing you today after he heard you will do the podium post race interviews. Lets just say he had some extra motivation for this race.
"With the undercut you managed to get in front of Lando. Was it difficult to keep him behind?"
"Of course. He is a great driver and their car is very fast. He really had me concentrate those last laps. " Carlos looks back at where Lando was standing next to the race winner. Lando gave him a little smile for the comment.
"The safety car came at a good moment and you got a free pit from it. Do you think you could have had the same pace with the old ones?"
"The safety car did come at a great time. I was struggling with the tyres and really wanted to switch them. The team said I couldn't because then I had to drive out the race for the remaining laps and that was too many. So having an extra free stop really helped. "
"Any plans for after the race. How are you going to celebrate it?"
"I am sure there is a party planned already. Good thing is that it is summer holiday and we don't need to do training wasted." He jokes and you let out a laugh.
"Sounds great. Have any plans for the summer break? How are you going to spend your free time? "
"Well, What are your plans?" He smirks and you have to take a second to let your mind take in his comment. You want to play to game with him, but chose to be professional and do as if you don't get the hint.
"Nice of you to ask. I'm heading back to Spain to visit some family," you reply, trying to maintain your cool exterior even as your heart races at the thought of his attention turning towards you.
"I hope I see you around then, Hermosa" Carlos says, his smirk widening as he rakes a hand through his hair in a gesture that sends a jolt of desire through you. You say your goodbyes before Lando takes his place in front of your camera.
Out of your sight Charles laughs at his teammate and gives him a pat on the back, a playful smirk placed on his face.
"What?" Carlos looks at him with confused puppy eyes. He takes his water bottle and takes a sip.
"What are your plans." Charles imitates his teammates question before letting out a louder laugh that turns the head of other people. "Mate, just ask her out already. It is painful to watch you keep flirting with each other."
"I ask her what her plans are. That is just being polite."
"Alright. And when you found out she was doing the post race interviews, you didn't smile from ear to ear because you would be seeing her again?"
"She is a great journalist and my friend. "
When Lando came back from his interview with you he had made the same remark as Charles and Carlos just groaned in reply. He was not going to hear the end of it.
The fans on twitter were going wild after the interview. It wasn't the first time you and Carlos had shared some flirty comments and there were fan pages dedicated to the two of you. There was even a tag going around with all the fans favorite moments of you two together that you weren't aware of.
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Lando laughs as he opens twitter. He was at the celebration party after the race and he had sit down next to the two ferarri drivers after a round of shots.
" Whats so funny?" Carlos asks with a confused expresion as he tries to look at the Brits phone. Lando shows the Twitter reactions.
" Looks like you are the only blind one."
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vbecker10 · 3 days
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Hellooo, hope u r doing good , I rly like ur work like it's all amazing ♡
Can I request Loki having a friend who is a mortal -female reader- but she is a mutant who can take up body energy -like Rogue in X-Men- and that's why she was always alone till her and Loki met and she defends him infront of the avengers, and he falls for her slowly ig 😅 -smut or fluff as u want-
Ik it's kinda lame, if u can't write it's alright
In all cases, thanks for the amazing writings ♥️
You Can't Hurt Me
Pairing: Loki x female reader (Y/N)
Summary: You are finally going on a solo mission as an Avenger, or at least you were supposed to. At the last minute, the team decides to send Loki with you which is something neither of you are happy about. After an accident in the field, you come in contact with Loki and the two of you realize your ability to absorb someone's life force, memories and powers doesn't work on him.
Warnings: arguing, swearing, feeling alone, pushing others away, minor injuries, plane crash, Loki being an ass to everyone including you - fluff in the end of course
A/N: I'm so sorry it took me forever to get to this ask. I'm finally going through my requests and I thought this idea was awesome! I tweaked it just a little cause my brain kept going in different directions but I really hope that's okay. Thank you for sending it! I hope you like it! 💚
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"Are you freaking kidding me?" you ask in an annoyed tone as you get up from your seat in Steve's office.
Before Steve can reply Loki stands and adds, "I have never agreed with a mortal before but I am afraid I must in this case."
You glare at him and cross your arms. He could agree with you without being an ass about it, you think angrily.
Steve sighs and rubs his temples. "Look Y/N, I know you were supposed to go on this mission alone," he says and you nod dramatically, "But Fury, Tony and I decided Loki's skills would be useful on this mission."
"Then let me borrow his powers," you look at Loki and begin to pull off one of your gloves.
"If you touch me-" he threatens as a dagger appears in his hand with a green flourish. You put your glove back on slowly but you smile to yourself knowing you made the god nervous.
"Stop it, both of you!" Steve says loudly, slamming his hand on the desk. You and Loki both sit immediately on the chairs opposite Steve, you suddenly feel as if you are at the principal's office. He clears his throat and calms himself before he continues, "So far teamwork is not something either of you have excelled at. If you both want to remain on this team," he emphasizes the word, "you will go on this mission together."
"This is absurd," Loki argues and you roll your eyes but agree with him.
"What's absurd is the fact that neither of you are willing to work with anyone," Steve counters. "You are here because you have both been written up for splitting off from the team when we have explicitly ordered you not to."
"You know I'm better off alone," you tell him holding up a gloved hand. "The X-Men never had an issue with me going on solo missions or handling things on my own."
"You are welcome to return to the mutants," Loki offers with a smirk.
"Loki, seriously?" Steve says with an exasperated sigh but the god just shrugs.
"Y/N, just because you can't physically touch anyone doesn't mean you can use it as an excuse to avoid being near people or working with them forever," Steve says turning his attention to you.
"Yes it does," you mumble and sulk down in your chair with your arms crossed.
"And you," he ignores your comment and turns to Loki, "you are still on probation. If you want to remain here, and not be sent back to Asgard, you need to act like a member of this team."
Before either of you can say anything else, he gets up and says, "If you can't work with each other, neither of you will last much longer here. You're dismissed."
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You snap your gum and click to the next page of the book you are reading on your tablet. Loki sits across from you with his nose in a book as the autopilot guides the jet towards your destination. You pop your gum again and Loki groans in annoyance. A smirk spreads across your lips, you would feel guilty about bothering him but he spent the morning calling you 'human' so you pop it loudly a third time.
"Will you stop that," he hisses, looking up from his book.
"It's an old habit," you make an excuse and shrug.
"It is an exceptionally annoying habit," he corrects you.
You hold eye contact with the God of Mischief and pop your gum in response. He practically growls as he closes his book but his words are cut off by a warning alarm blaring throughout the jet.
"What the hell is that?" you ask, getting up from your seat.
"I have no idea," he admits as he follows you to the cockpit of the jet.
The plane shakes violently and you almost lose your footing, Loki instinctively reaches out to steady you, his hand grabbing your clothed arm. You nod quickly to acknowledge the gesture and the two of you reach the control panel. A series of red lights blink frantically and your heart races as you try to decipher what is wrong but neither of you knows how to operate the jet.
You flip the switch to contact the base, "Tony what the hell is going on up here?" You know the panic is evident in your voice.
The only response you and Loki get is the crackle of static then suddenly one of the two engines goes terrifyingly silent.
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You blink your eyes open slowly, your head pounds and your whole body aches. The smell of smoke and fire fill the air and your eyes sting. You try to sit up and hear someone talking but you can barely make out their words over the ringing in your ears.
"Y/N," Loki says again, shaking your shoulder lightly to get your attention. "Are you alright?" His lip is split and he is covered in dirt. His eyes are full of concern as he kneels over you, not something you are used to from the God of Mischief.
"Yea," you answer him quietly as he leans back a bit so you can sit up straighter, "I think so." You look around in awe at the torn and broken remains of the jet scattered throughout the field, unsure how you are both alive.
"I've radioed the team, they should be here in less than an hour," he informs you in a calm voice.
He rubs your shoulder in a soothing manner and you close your eyes as a breeze blows dust around you both. You shiver a bit and realize your jacket was torn during the crash, panic floods through you when you notice how much of your skin is exposed. Loki's hand gently rests on the bare skin on your shoulder and you pull away from him quickly.
"Don't touch me," you warn him and he backs away from you, his hands up in front of him. "You can't touch me, I'll hurt you," you remind him, trying to cover your skin with as much of left over material as you can. You try to get up to put distance between you and the god but you can't put weight on your left leg, it buckles under you and you fall back to the ground. You look down and see clean gauze wrapped tightly around your calf, your pant leg torn open from whatever caused your injury.
You look down in shock then look up at Loki. "How did you do this?" you ask, noticing the blood on his hands.
He shakes his head, "I don't know. I wasn't thinking, I just needed to stop the bleeding."
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"I need to talk to you," he says unphased by your attitude which makes you nervous. "I haven't been able to stop thinking about what happened after the crash." He rubs his hands nervously as if your blood is still on them.
That night you lay in bed staring at the ceiling unable to sleep. When you first climbed into bed, you worried the memories of the crash would prevent you from sleeping but it was the moments after that kept replaying in your mind. Closing your eyes, you can almost still feel Loki's warm hand resting gently on your skin. You roll over, pulling the sheets tightly around yourself when to hear a knock at your door. You sit up and check the clock next to your bed, it's just after midnight.
You limp carefully to the door and open it, unsure who you expect to see. "What do you want?" you ask Loki, easily returning to how you typically treat each other.
You take a step back to let him into your room. You feel anxious knowing he is the first member of the team you've ever invited into your private space. Loki takes a seat on your couch as you pick up your hoodie that is hanging by the door.
"I think I know why I could touch you without your powers affecting me," he says and you look up at him, pausing as you zip your hoodie.
You shake your head and take your gloves out of the pockets. "Strange said it was most likely because I was unconscious," you remind him.
"I don't think your powers work on me," he says after a few moments of silence pass between you both.
"You and I both know that's not true," he keeps his eyes on you as you slip on one glove then the other.
You sit at the far end of the couch, afraid that he is wrong about whatever his theory is. He is right about one thing though, Strange's reasoning didn't explain why Loki was able to touch the skin on your shoulder after you woke up. You had done everything you could since you arrived back home to not think about how that was possible, you were terrified that it was some sort of fluke and would never happen again.
"They work on your brother," you remind him. You had grabbed the older prince by the wrist for only a few seconds during a training session two months ago. You were unable to contain his lightning abilities and fried all the computers in the lab. Thor spent the next four hours unconscious in the med bay. "Being a god doesn't make you special," you tell him in a harsher tone then you mean to.
"Thor and I are not..." he sighs. "We are not the same. You know we are not true brothers?" he asks and you shake your head. "Thor is an Asgardian and although I look like one, I am not."
"So whatever you are is why you think I can touch you?" you ask.
"It is hard to explain," he tells you. "I am from Jotunheim, realm of the frost giants. This is not my true form. I use an illusion to alter my appearance as Odin did before I knew the truth." You can tell by his tone that this is not a story he is used to sharing with others.
You take off your gloves and look at your own hand, remembering the pain and heartache even a light touch has caused to others around you. "Are you sure you want to risk this for me Loki?" you ask. "If you're wrong... I could seriously hurt you."
You listen quietly as he explains how he was taken as a baby and brought up on a series of lies. He rubs his hands nervously as he talks and never makes eye contact with you, staring at the ground as he speaks. When he finishes he lifts his hand and looks at it as he wiggles his fingers slowly, a green glow emanates from his fingertips and flows down his hand. As his magic travels, his skin slowly turns a deep shade a blue, thin ridges form intricate spirals on the back of his hand.
"This is just a well crafted illusion," he says as the glow retracts and the blue fades away.
"If I'm right... you might not need to be so alone," he counters gently.
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"I... I don't believe this," you smile. Tears of joy and relief gather as you slowly look up at Loki.
He holds his hand towards you, palm up waiting patiently for you to move. Slowly, you reach you hand out, your heart pounding in your chest. Your fingertips lightly touch his fingertips and you hold your breath as you wait for the pain to spread through both of you but nothing happens. Your eyes lock on your hands as you slide your fingers towards his open palm. You still don't feel anything as you rest your palm on his, your fingers settling on his wrist.
He closes his fingers around your hand and you let out a laugh in shock and disbelief. There is no pain, no burning on your skin or in his veins as his memories are pulled from him or his powers are absorbed. Just his warm, soft skin against yours, a feeling you had almost forgotten.
"You can't hurt me," he says when your eyes met.
"I can't hurt you," you repeat. He raises his other hand to wipe away one of your tears as it travels down your cheek. The simple gesture draws even more tears. It has been so many years since you have been able to feel another person, you can barely hold yourself together. You get up suddenly and walk away from him.
"I'm sorry," he says as he stands.
"It's not... you didn't do anything wrong," you assure him as you wipe your face then wrap your arms around yourself. "It's been almost ten years since I've touched someone I wasn't trying to harm. When I gained my powers, I severed my connection to everyone I've ever loved or cared about. My family, my friends, my coworkers. I left all of them."
He listens to you quietly, not moving closer.
"I'm terrified of hurting the people I care about, that's why I left the X-Men. I was there for eight years and I was becoming too close to everyone. I was constantly afraid someone would try to hug me or give me a high five or just bump into me in the hall. I had to leave and when I came here..." you look down, ashamed of how you acted. "I avoided everyone and antagonized you on purpose so no one would want to be friends with me. I thought it would be easier, safer if no one ever wanted to be near me."
"I understand," he says and you look up as he takes a few steps towards you. "I have my own experience building walls to keep everyone out, even my brother. My reason for keeping the others away is far less noble than yours. You push people away to keep them safe while I push them away to keep myself safe."
"I have been lied to and betrayed by my family my whole life," he reminds you of your conversation only minutes ago. "If I never let anyone in, if I never care about anyone, then they can never hurt me. It's why I've been so rude and condescending to everyone on the team, including you," he admits.
You are quiet for a moment, you know exactly what you want but you are afraid he will turn down your request. "Can I..." you pause and he gives you an encouraging smile. "Can I have a hug?"
"I'm sorry for how I treated you," he tells you honestly. "Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?"
"I'm afraid I am not very good at hugs," he says and when you look at the ground he adds, "But I can give it a try, for you."
You can't stop the smile that spreads across your face as you move towards him. He puts his arms around you, pulling you close. You wrap your arms around him, your hands settle on his back and your cheek rests against his chest. He is stiff in your arms but after a second, he seems to relax and lowers his cheek to rest on the top of your head.
You close your eyes and listen to his heartbeat, his breathing slows and you feel as if all the tension is leaving your body. After a moment you mumble something against his chest and he chuckles.
"I have no idea what you said," he tells you.
You lift your head and look up at him. "This is the first hug I've had in close to ten years," you repeat.
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He touches your cheek gently and says, "That is truly a shame because you give wonderful hugs." You giggle and blush then he adds, "This is the best hug I have had in a very, very long time and I do not plan on letting go any time soon."
I hope you liked this!! Please like, share and comment if you did 💚💚 Please let me know if you want to be added to my taglist!
@soubi001 @mochie85 @lokiswife-dark-fox-queen @animnerd @cabingrlandrandomcrap @icytrickster17 @lokisgoodgirl @mischief2sarawr @stupidthoughtsinwriting @mjsthrillernp @holdmytesseract @lulubelle814 @goblingirlsarah @im-briana-stan @foxherder @alexakeyloveloki @siconetribal @lokidokieokie @kneelingformyloki @jiyascepter @eleniblue @loreniscrying @muddyorbsblr @alyeskathewave @loz-3 @firedrakegirl @javagirl328 @princess-ofthe-pages @morally-grey-variant @soulpiercing
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geekforhorror · 2 days
Note
hiii, hope you’re well. i had a specific idea about anakin being a personal trainer or maybe a pilates personal coach, and he helps reader… stretch. was thinking about prompts 2 and 43. thank you <3
best for business
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pairing: personal trainer anakin x fem!reader
warnings: SMUT (DNI IF YOURE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH IT!), dom!anakin, sub!reader, power imbalance, inappropriate relationship, age gap, unprotected p in v sex, public sex, anakin is kinda mean, praise, orgasm, etc.
prompts: “just a little harder” and “i told you to stay still”
1k celebration!
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“I told you to stay still.”
It had all started off so innocently. You had booked an appointment with Anakin. It had been a while since you guys had a one on one session and he was an amazing personal trainer who tested your physical limits even when you felt like giving up. Today was different. You had been struggling to stretch the way Anakin wanted you to.
That’s how you ended up with your legs spread wide open with his cock deep inside you.
You obey his demands which makes Anakin grin from ear to ear. “Now we’re getting somewhere, sweetie,” he coos. You felt his cock split you open with every passing second he remained inside of you. “This will provide that nice stretch in your upper thighs and glutes,” he says smoothly.
“Fuck Anakin!” you scream.
“Shhh…there’s no need to let anybody know how much of a slut you are,” he warns.
Even though the two of you were in a reserved room, there were still plenty of people in other nearby rooms to catch the two of you in this scandalous act, which added a sense of excitement.
“Just a little harder,” he says, giving you a good heads up as to what was going to happen next. Without wasting anymore time, he speeds his erratic movements and thrusts even harder inside your tight little pussy.
He presses his hand down on your stomach, showing you where his buldge rested in your stomach. “And this will stretch your core, baby. Feel it?” he asks.
“Oh yes…” you breathily moan.
“Atta girl…always been my best client,” he praises.
You could feel yourself unraveling around his cock which only made you tilt your head back in pleasure. You could feel every single girthy inch of him which could’ve been mistaken for heaven.
“So close…fuck…” you whine.
“Is that so?” he teases. You nod your head so frantically that it could’ve fallen off. “Did my girl learn her lesson?” he implores with his voice being full of curiosity.
“Yes sir!” you yelped.
“I like the sound of that, sweetheart,” he coos.
“Just please let me cum…” you pathetically say.
“You’ve got it. Show me how much you really learned,” he says authoritatively while rocking his hips against yours.
You can feel the heated coil start to snap deep inside your stomach which only adds to the passion filling the room. It only takes a few more thrusts from Anakin before you finally cum all over his cock. He fucks you through your well deserved orgasm and takes in how well your insides flutter around him. That alone sends him over the edge before he spills his warm seed deep inside you. Both of you groan at the feeling, never wanting it to subside.
A few seconds pass by before he finally pulls out of you, trying to catch his breath alongside you. Finally coming down from your respective highs, both of you find your breathing patterns return to normal.
“Do you give this treatment to all of your clients?” you ask jokingly.
“Just you, sweetheart…just you,” he replies with a chuckle.
“Let’s keep it that way,” you say with a smirk.
“I couldn’t agree more.”
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tag list: @zapernz @mortalheartache @midnight-raine @camiemorgan8 @myheartwillgoon2022 @demieyesore
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zvdvdlvr · 2 days
Text
Just A Little Late
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🩻 - Synopsis. The day comes when Aaron realizes he has to talk to you. Is he able to repair your relationship or does he get the rejection he knows he deserves?
🩻 - Warnings. Angst. Fluff? Possible ooc!Aaron. Mild description of blood and a fire.
🩻 - Author’s note. Thank you all so much for the love of this mini series! I have an epilogue in store if you’d like :)
A couple hours after you got home, your phone buzzed. Looking down, you saw ‘Big Boss 😠’ on the lockscreen and glared down at the glowing box. With a trembling hand, you unlocked your phone and read the message.
From Big Boss 😠: It’s Hotch. What are you doing tonight?
To Big Boss 😠: Why do you care?
You bit your lip after sending. Were you being too harsh? You felt your heart sting. You hated being mean to Aaron, the man who had previously fought tooth and nail to be by yours (and your team’s) side. But after he chose not to visit you or even communicate with you during your stay at the hospital… it’s safe to say you felt betrayed on another level.
From Big Boss 😠: Because you are apart of my team.
You scoffed. “Really? Are you fucking serious, Hotch?”
To Big Boss 😠: Didn’t seem like that when you apparently didn’t have a word to say to me when I was in the hospital. Or at the restaurant.
With tears in your eyes, you threw you phone at the wall as hard as you could. The sound of the screen shattering and broken glass falling to the floor was exactly how you felt.
— 
Spencer and Derek were the ones that went to find you. You were two (full!) hours late to work. Every minute you didn’t show had Aaron’s heart rate picking up. But he knew he couldn’t go to find you. So he sent Spencer and Derek, telling himself he couldn’t keep hiding from you forever.
Spencer unlocked your door as Derek swept the front and back yard. A precaution, but Spencer was worried nonetheless. Because you were never late!
“Y/n?” Spencer asked, his hand finding the gun strapped to his hip. “Are you alright?” 
He heard a loud sigh and guessed it was you over the sound of the T.V.
Derek nodded at Reid and they both toed cautiously toward you, completely unaware of how you’d react to them being in your home. Uninvited.
“Mama? You alright?” Derek asked, eyebrows furrowed.
Spencer looked around. You phone and a bunch of glass laid in a pile near the wall. You had clealry thrown it from a distance- from the couch? Had you even gotten up?
“Will you lay with me?” You tiny voice asked. You were completely swaddled in a blanket leaving only your eyes and nose peeping out.
“I-“ Derek started, clearly taken aback by your actions.
“Of course we will. Move over, you. Derek, call Hotch and tell him we might be a little late.”
Derek watched Spencer sit down on your couch with wide eyes and an open mouth. “I- yeah. Alright. I’ll be back in a second,” he said, pulling his phone from his pocket. He stepped outside and shut the door as he dialed.
“Hotchner?” 
Derek rubbed his head with his hand. “We’re at y/n’s. She’s-“ Derek sighed. “She looks horrible, man. She looks like she cried all night and didn’t get up at all during the night. Her house is clean, but she did a number on her phone. What’s goin’ on with our girl?”
Hotch felt his heart squeeze in his chest and suddenly he couldn’t breathe. You cried all night, your phone was lying in pieces, and you even had Derek worried. Aaron had to fix this. “I don’t know, Derek.” Liar, Hotch thought. “Stay with her. Get her up and moving, I’ll be there soon.”
“Okay. I don’t know what you did, Hotch- and don’t lie to me because we’ve all seen it- but you need to get your shit together.”
Aaron felt a singular teardrop run down his face and land on the stained wood of his desk. The dial tone blared loudly in his ear and Hotch felt like the biggest asshole on Earth.
Derek went back into your house and locked the door. “What are we watching, nerds?” The man patted your blanket-covered legs and sat down.
As Spencer explained the show as briefly as Specer could, both men acted like the didn’t see the tears fall out of your eyes and your body shuddering every time you inhaled. Spencer let you play with his hands to keep from picking at your lips until they bled.
Eventually, Derek convinced you to go get cleaned up and dressed. When you came back out, Derek persuaded you into letting him braid your hair (props of having sisters) as Spencer picked something to watch.
You had just started laughing when you heard someone know on the door. Derek tutted poshly and refused to let you move until he finished the braid.
“Better hurry up,” Spencer commented uselessly from your couch, munching on popcorn you didn’t even know you had.
You scoffed. “Good idea, Reid.”
“Off to the races, you,” Derek joked, pushing your head forward when the braid was completed.
“You both suck. Never letting you in my house again-“ you muttered, opening the door. Words fell right off your tongue.
Outside your door, Hotch held out a concerningly large boquet of your favorite flavors. Your mouth fell open and you felt like slamming the door. Just as you started pushinf the door shut, however, Derek swung open the door. 
“Y/n, please listen to what he has to say. I think you need to hear it.”
You looked accusingly at Derek, eyes flickering between the two men in front of you. “No. No! Because why would I listen to a man who wasn’t there! You didn’t show up! You. Weren’t. There. Get out of my house. Get off my property. I quit. My documents will be at your desk tomorrow. Leave. Get out!” You yelled, pushing Derek out of your house (no small feat, my God) and yelling at Aaron.
Spencer swiftly avoided your glare and flailing arms, leaving Derek and Hotch to fend for themselves.
“Y/n, please. Just five minutes. Listen to me- five minutes!” Aaron pleaded. His voice cracked and he faltered against you.
You had moved from Derek to Aaron, trying as hard as you could to push them out the door and onto the grass. “No! Please just leave me alone. I can’t- you made your point when you couldn’t even look at me after I came back to work!” You yelled, not noticing the tears sparking in the back of your eyes.
Derek was glad almost every other adult was at work- the screaming match you and Hotch were holding wasn’t pretty.
Aaron let you push him out the door, but held onto the porch railing. “You were the one distancing yourself from me-“
You froze for a moment, looking at him with so much hurt in your eyes, Spencer assumed you had just gotten your spinal cord severed. “Bullshit! You’re lying to me and you know it, Hotchner. You- you left me there. Dropped me off at the hospital and left! ‘Oh, yeah! Her face is so torn up now, she’s so scarred and fucked up, I can’t be seen with her!’ Is that what you were thinking when you left me there? Huh?!”
“Medic! I need a medic!”
Hotch tore away from the firefighter’s grip, bounding over the lawn to where our were choking on smoke. “Y/n!”
You tore at the ground with your bloodied fingers, slowly going limp.
Aaron didn’t feel the heat of the fire as he slid one arm just under your neck and another arm under your knees. “Please, y/n,” he whispered, navigating through the burning building , blood dripping from your wounds into the threads of Aaron’s clothes.
He held onto your hand as you were pulled into the ambulance on a gurney. Ash and soot streaked his face, but he hadn’t looked away from you. Despite the deep knife wound that twisted and warped your face, despite the burns on your body, and despite your faint breathing, Aaron held on to you. Crying and pleading and hoping.
When Rossi had finally tore his hands from yours, he watched dazedly as you were rushed into an OR. For hours he must have stood there, watching the floor. Waiting.
Waiting.
“I- I love you, y/n! I couldn’t watch you die in some sterile room where I can’t help you! So I left. I left and couldn’t bring myself to see you because this,” he said, gently running a finger from te top of the scar down to where it ended at your collarbone, “this tells me that I failed. I failed you, y/n m/n l/n, and I know nothing I say will excuse that, but the fact that I failed to protect you…” Aaron looked away. “I couldn’t- I couldn’t stand the fact that I failed to protect ome of the only people I care about.”
Your hand came up to hover where Aaron’s was, still resting on the edge of your collarbone. “I needed you,” you whimpered, voice shaking. Your lip quivered as the man who said loved you stepped closer. “I needed you and you weren’t there. You left.”
Aaron nodded vigorously, his own tears falling down his face at your words. You were so close to him, letting his hand trace you carefully even though a part of you still hated him for not being there. Aaron hated him too. “I know. I know, y/n and I’m sorry. But- but I’m here now. I won’t leave unless you tell me.”
You leaned forward and latched your arms around Aaron’s waist and fell, crying into Aaron’s expensive shirt. “I hate you, Aaron,” you wailed, vice-like grip on his jacket tugging him even closer to you.
Aaron closed his eyes and let you fall into him. “I know you do, y/n. I know.” One of his hands rested on the back of your neck and the other kept baby hairs off of your face. “I know,” he whispered, crying silently.
Spencer and Derek both nodded, knowing your relationship (and horribly harbored feelings) wasn’t hopeless after all.
🏷️: @zaddyhotch @mxrgodsstuff @bunnylov-3-r
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hitomisuzuya · 2 days
Text
Scaramouche x fem!reader Smut. Modern College AU Video call sex. Dirty talk. Daddy kink. Sex toy. Degradation. Praise. Dom!Scara
First of all, everyone, thank you so much for your supportive comments yesterday. I am okay 🥺
Scaramouche's eyes watched the clock, waiting for the agreed upon time for the video call. He had to be out of state for a family function, and he was despising every second of it. Especially that you couldn't come with him.
A text that you'd send him earlier had been the only thing occupying his mind all day. It read: "I couldn't sleep last night, so I laid awake fingering myself and thinking about you. I couldn't make myself cum, Daddy."
He really wished you had taken a video to attach to the text message.
Scaramouche couldn't have clicked the call button fast enough, his eyes immediately treated to the sight of you already naked on your bed. Your vibrator was next you. "So eager that you are already naked," He greeted, smirking in approval, "my poor little slut is so needy," His cock twitched seeing you react to the sound of his voice.
"Mhm," Your sigh was shaky as one of your hands started to drifted down between your legs. A visible shiver went through you at his degradation. It never failed to make you wet.
"Don't start touching yourself yet, slut," Scaramouche hissed, making your fingers pause over your clit. You looked at him needily in question. "You need to be punished for that teasing text message."
You huffed, frustrated as your hand dropped onto the sheets. "T-Teasing?" You asked, wanting so badly to rub your swelling clit. His voice always had such an affect on you.
He scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Calling me Daddy and telling me you can't make yourself cum. You really should've taken a video, teasing slut. I guess I can't really be surprised that you need me to instruct you on how to play with your needy pussy," He licked his lips hearing a soft moan escaped your parted lips as you shifted restlessly on your bed.
You shivered as more wet gathered on your cunt. His harsh, domineering tone always made you so weak. It was torture to hear him degrade you that way and not be touching you, or fucking his cock into you.
"Please, Daddy, please. I'll be a good girl, I promise," You pleaded, rubbing your thighs together.
Scaramouche sat back on his bed, and palmed his hardening cock. "Now, spread your legs like the good girl you promised to be. Let Daddy see how wet you are," He could practically see you melting as you spread your legs, giving him a view of your wet and puffy pussy.
He let out a hum of approval. You spread your folds for him hesitantly, looking at him submissively for permission to touch yourself. He nodded. "Slowly stroke and rub your clit," He commanded, his eyes following your fingers as they found your clit.
You let a soft moan, slowly pressing circles on your clit. You felt it throb under your fingers, your hips rocking up into your fingers for more friction. His cock was straining hard in his pants watching your fingers dance on your clit.
"A little bit faster, pinch your clit. Tease your fingers at your pathetically messy hole," He groaned as he freed his cock from his pants. He watched your fingers roll your clit, your hips jerking off the bed as louder moans sounded from you.
Scaramouche's cock pulsed in his hand, squeezing it briefly before pumping his hand. The tips of your fingers prodded at your entrance, scooping your juices onto your fingers before sweeping them back up to your clit.
He was purposely making you use your fingers first, knowing that you couldn't make yourself cum. His cock only pulsed more with anticipation of you repeating your text message to him.
"Good ahead, whore," Scaramouche moaned, pumping his hand faster on his cock, "Fuck one finger into that needy cunt of yours. Tell Daddy how much you want him," He so desperately wanted to see you lose yourself in your desire for him.
You gasped in pleasure as you heeded his command. You slowly pumped it in and out of yourself, your eyes glued to the screen as you watched him jack himself off. It aroused you further, you picked up the pace of your finger.
You writhed on the bed, giving him the utter vision Scaramouche craved to see. Your moans were starting to sound frustrated as you desperately curled and pumped your finger in and out of you. You barely heard his next commands to pinch your nipple and push a second finger inside you.
You scissored your walls apart, your legs shaking as you barely brushed just short of hitting your sweet spot. You pinched your nipple for extra stimulation, but it provided you little relief. "I..I can't make myself cum, Daddy," You whimpered, your hips bucking into your fingers.
Cum almost spurted onto his hand when he hard you call him Daddy. Your cheeks heated hearing his aroused moan. "That's right, slut. Cry for Daddy to help you cum," He groaned, rutting his cock into his hand.
"Help me, please, Daddy," You pinched and rubbed your clit, your hand grasping the sheets tightly. Your fingers squelched lewdly in and out of you, making you sloppier mess in your frenzied desperation.
Scaramouche decided you'd had enough. You were so dazed from his degrading teasing, your body twitching with the need to cum that you couldn't think. "You poor, pathetic slut, you can't even make yourself cum. Turn your vibrator on and rub it on your clit," He instructed behind a moan.
Your fingers shook as your hand groped around for your vibrator. You let out a relieved moan feeling the toy hum on your throbbing clit. Your back arched as you grinded your cunt against the toy. "Only Daddy can help me cum," You babbled, your pussy clenching sensitive around nothing.
Scaramouche had to fight not to roll his eyes into the back of his head as he fisted his cock. He wouldn't dare look away from the screen, not when you looked so fucking beautiful writhing and fucking your cunt onto your vibrator.
He massaged and pinched the head of his cock, one his hands reaching down to squeeze and massage his balls. "Fuck it inside yourself and moan about how much you wish it was Daddy's cock."
Your pussy immediately clenched around the toy when you pushed it inside of you. You were breathless, pleasure bursting white hot behind your eyes as vibrations hummed against your sweet spot. "I wish this was your cock, Daddy. I want it inside of me. I need it inside of me," You gave him exactly what he was asking for.
"Good girl, good girl, good girl," Scaramouche chanted, right on the cusps of his orgasm. Your pathetic pleads and moans, the lewd sounds of the vibrator squelching wetly in and out of you were only ushering it in faster. "Fucking cum for Daddy," He growled.
You finally came undone, your walls squeezing around the vibrator as you squirted. You shook from the intensity of your orgasm. Incoherent cries of Daddy tore from your throat.
Cum ribboned onto Scaramouche's hand hearing your cries, his legs shaking as he fisted his cock through his orgasm.
You were always such a a good girl for him.
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bitterchocoo · 2 days
Note
My first time requesting but I need a part 2 of Kilmer where aventurine adopts the reader (somehow) or gets the reader away from that awful man 🤕 angst with comfort and a bit of fluff in the end if its possible, Thank you!! :) (P.S. I love your works!!)
Shama
Aventurine | Child M. Reader (Platonic)
Part One | Part Two (You're here)
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"It's an all-or-nothing surrender!"
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No matter how many days, weeks, months have passed. The sight of that serial number on the neck of a young child has sear itself into Aventurine's mind. Images of his own past flashes before his eyes. Those times, those things he went through.. the thought of someone else going through the same thing at such a young age. Sends a chill down his spine.
Every time he ever met the man for business, his gaze would linger on the child much longer than the man he was having business with. That blank expression, those expensive and luxurious clothing on him. Like a little trophy. Just for show. A way for his caretaker--no.. owner to say "Hey! Look at this shiny new toy I got! Isn't he pretty?" Put in a glass box, a collection, a doll being stored on a shelf.
Every time he has to meet up with the man, Aventurine makes sure that he brings gifts. He doesn't mind buying gifts for clients. It's nothing really. Anything to make [Name]'s life more bearable... but his main concern, his main target is the trophy, the doll, the child, [Name]. And evert time he gave [Name] a gift, it's always met by complete silence and subtle glances directed to his owner. As if asking permission to take it.
"See this? This is a limited type of confectionery that everyone in the galaxy simply adores. There are only sixteen slices sold every day. Here, why don't you have a taste?" Aventurine says, his hand gestures towards a plate of slice cake. A very popular, very delicious dessert. One that he hopes the child would take it. [Name] glances over to his master, as if he's silently asking if he could, which earned him a firm nod. "Go ahead, it's rude to not accept gifts."
After contemplating over it, [Name] took a seat next to Aventurine, his hand reaching out towards the dessert plate, with his other hand the child use the utensil to eat his dessert. It was simply divine. It's no wonder this cake is a favorite of the people in the galaxy. [Name] had never tried anything this wonderful before.
The subtle light in the child's dull eyes make Aventurine smile widens.
Anything to make [Name]'s life more bearable.
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But even so, these gifts could only do so much.. he needs a plan. A permanent one. But it seems... he doesn't need to think of that anymore...
The "lifeless doll" had taken care of it.
Aventurine merely stare with widen eyes as the boy stood there in front of all of them with handcuffs on his wrist, the usually clean and tidy suit he wore is now messy with wrinkles and splashes of fresh blood, his neat hair now in shambles as he look at them through his hair strands with dull eyes.
As if what he had done didn't face him one bit.
It was a banquet, a normal banquet, nothing special, another day, another business. The waiters and waitresses handing drinks and foods to every patron. A normal business event.
And yet..
It had end in a massacre.
The trial went on and on. the trial took way too long for comfort, for every evidence and every alibi... the child is proven innocent. It took what felt like an eternity to finally gathered enough proof for him to be proven guilty. And yet..
The IPC showed him mercy. Finding it to be such a shame to lose such an asset. The length this boy went through, not breaking character as he slowly make his plan come into fruition.
This "lifeless doll" isn't as lifeless as he make himself to be.
For someone as young as him.. to be able to make elaborate plans and following it through till the end.. and creating evidence and alibies to prove himself innocent, whether if it's fabricated or not...
He's a mastermind.
And the IPC can't simply let such a valuable asset to simply.. cease to exist.
.
.
.
But that smile soon disappears once he heard the sound of someone entering the room, a man that he's well familiar with. There's no mistaken those eyes. He then approached [Name] before kneeling down in front of him.
At a vacant room, [Name] sat on the edge of the bed looking blankly at the wall in front of him, his gaze sometimes shifted between the wall and his still blood stained hands, along with the handcuffs on his wrists. The sight of it could make anyone feel uneasy and squeamish. But to him.. it brought a sense of satisfaction as a ghost of a smile made it's way onto his face. For his plan had come to fruition.
Giving him a sense of comfort he never thought he could ever feel.
"The IPC has pardon your crimes, but of course that still didn't erase the fact you had slaughtered a whole banquet of people... I'm afraid you have to work hard in order to clear your name.."
A soft and warm smile adorn on his expression as he stretch out a hand towards the younger. "In the meantime, you'll be under my care.."
"...Malachite."
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flamingpudding · 12 hours
Note
All right you got my creative juices running with part five of Klarion is Dan yes the first series I ever came to you with
To find him Klarion isn't the only one living in the DC dimension in like the word of protective mother Danny is he sent one of clarion's older siblings to go with him Larsal/Lassie
She was one of the clone children that was created long before Danny knew that was trying to clone him she was one of the first failures
She doesn't really have a physical form as much she is more of like a big pit of water that has like a spiritual like form like Dr Fate
She hates Vlad so much that the entire League of assassins who's also hit him even though they don't know who he is but know that Danny got from Clockwork was about her and visiting
Klarion knows about the quote as the same thing last knows about him being a villain they keep each other secrets cuz they know they make Mom disappointed
When they do have somewhat of a physical form it's a cowgirl with a horse made entirely of Lazarus Pits
Along with that Vlad making surprise visit after feeling someone's littering his name more than usual it's like a call about anytime he knows his children or Daniel is talking about him
Also Batman's freaking out after I think that one of Danny's kids is such a little hater that they made a cult just despite their father which makes the Justice League think Vlad really that bad
This is just the funny idea and I know it's not a good prompt I'm still trying to think of more sorry
Oh I love this! Thanks you!
This is going to be fun in a way I hope! Enjoy~
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Danny barely avoided getting questioned further about his relation to Vlad when he noticed the green post-it note and made a grab for it. "Oh would you look at that! Pop is sending us a message!"
Okay maybe he said that louder than necessary but he needed to change the topic. He didn't need more people on to torment the fruitloop. His own kids were already giving the man enough grief as it was. He didn't need distant cousins or an entire hero society of another dimension coming after the fruitloop too. Not that he would mind that much but some mercy towards the redeemed man would probably be appropriated.
Either way Danny focused his attention on the note only half heartedly listening as Klarion continued his family tree explanation to his little hero friends. He blinked at the note several times before laughing happily. "Would you look at that! Lassie is going to come by! Your Granpa Clock is giving us a heads up, so I can prepare a fresh batch of ectoplasm for her to stay healthy!"
Whatever Klarion was explaining right now was abandoned as he sat up straight. "Lassie is coming too?"
"Well of course she is." Danny hummed happily, thankful for the chance of seeing both his kids that liked to life in the same dimension.
"Lassie?" Red Robin piped up questioning. Oh looks like this is one of Klarions siblings they hadn't gotten to yet regarding explanations.
"Yes my fourth oldest but unofficial second oldest." Danny nodded with a proud mother smile on his face. "She lives in this dimension too to keep an eye on Klarion so he would stay safe and dosen't over do it."
Klarion on the other hand groaned. "I don't need Lassie to baby sit me!"
"Klarion, sweety you were new to the whole living alone in another dimension thing. You spent the longest in FarFrozen and the Ghost Zone with me because of your destabilisation." Danny reprimanded him softly and the teen heroes snickered behind Klarions back to which the witch boy turned to glare at them with a greenish blush across his cheeks.
"So what does that sister of yours look like?" Impulse asked to change the topic and because he took a bit of pity on Klarion for the way his Mom was apparently embarrassing the witch boy. His question resulted in Klarion flipping though the photo album before stopping at an image of Klarion next to a pit of green something. Impulse arched an eyebrow and was about to comment when he got pushed roughly to the side by Red Robin.
"THAT'S A LAZARUS PIT!"
The way Batman's chair clattered to the ground as the man stood up looked every bit like he was going to rush over to the teens spoke for the shock that Red Robin shout had caused. The Ghost King and Klarion on the other hand looked rather calm as they barely reacted to the shout and Danny even motioned to Batman to sit back down again, as the chair that fell rightened itself again.
"Calm down. Lassie is a good child. She wouldn't hurt a fly." Danny told them smiling, not realising that both Batman and Red Robin were giving him increadulous looks behind their mask.
"A.... good child?" Batman repeated his slowly his voice even more tinged with his usual gruff gravel in a way that both Superman and Wonder Woman side eyed him worried while Flash snacked on a pack of melon flavoured ships he snacked from a table.
"She doesn't have a physical body, that is why she is relying on the pits of natural ectoplasm your dimension has. There was a little problem with her physical form and we just couldn't restore it and she refuses to get a unoccupied clone body like Klarion has." Danny explained further not minding the stares he or Klarion were getting.
"Pits of natural ectoplasm?" Batman reiterated, his tone clearly questioning, to which Danny only blinked a couple of times surprised. "I thought your dimension knew what they were? Sure the way you guys use them is strange and Lassie did sound a bit concerned when she told me about it but I didn't think you guys weren't aware what they were."
"No that is not...." Red Robin started but then but himself of as he turned around hurriedly in a defensive position as he noticed someone coming in through the window. He wasn't the only one. All the heroes reacted as one at the new presence, however what they didn't expect was a member of the League of Assassins blinking up at them stunned after climbing in through the window lifting their hands palm up in a gesture of peace.
"Woah hey there calm down! Klarion what the fuck? Why are there so many heroes in your Apartment?" The LoA member spoke up and all eyes turned to Klarion who instead only deadpanned. "I told you Mom was visiting to meet my 'friends'"
"Lassie, what did I tell you about possessing bodies?" The Ghost King piped up in a disapproving tone and they heard the distinctive tone of someone knocking their head against the table, probably Constantine.
"Sorry Mom but there are not Pits of ectoplasm near baby brother I could use to form a body." The LoA member, apparently possessed by Klarion's elder sister replied sheepishly. To say Red Robin was weirded out was an understatement. Usually if he encountered LoA members they were aggressive and most likely there to take him or one of his siblings out.
"That's an League of Assasin member...." He muttered under his breath to which said member laughed. "This guy was the closest to me to use for the moment. Don't worry I will release him later and he won't even remember a thing. I got my little sheep's well trained."
"Little sheep's?" Wonder Girl repeated a hand on her hip as she stared sceptically, to which Klarion face palmed and muttered a low "Sis shut up...."
"No Lassie, don't shut up." Danny intone from the kitchen table he was still sitting at with the other adults, his head was now resting on his hand as he stared at his two kids who visibly flinched.
The LoA member, possessed by Klarions sister, scratched the back of is head nervously as they faced the Ghost King. "Ah Mom, uhm hehe you know funny story..."
The heroes were pretty sure that the room had gotten several degrees colder and they weren't sure if that was because of the mood of a parent about to interrogate their child or because of the Ghost Kings power. (At a later time Constantine swore it were the Ghost Kings powers.) There was a awkward moment of silence the heroes weren't sure if they should be present for that or not especially when Danny stood up and walked over to the teens.
On reflex Wonder Girl, Superboy, Impulse and Red Robin made room for Danny to walk past them as they watched on torn between curiosity and pity, because clearly Klarion and his sister Lassie must have done something they weren't supposed to do. And honestly they were more curious what they did, after all the Ghost King hadn't been that faced when it got revealed that Klarion was more of a Villain than a Hero to them.
"Lassie, what did you do?" The teen heroes couldn't see Danny's face but from the tone they had a feeling that Danny was arching an eyebrow at his children.
Lassie laughed awkwardly once more. "So... you know how grandma Pandora kind of thought us about how our own emotion can influence those around us exposed to our ectoplasm over a long period of time?"
"Lassie..."
"I might have raised something akin to a cult on accident and passed on my personal grudge and hate towards the fruitloop along to them and they might now have the subconscious drill of attack on sight if Vlad ever makes an appearance in this dimension...." The LoA member slowly spoke up which had several of the adult heroes blinking in disbelief.
Batman especially was in shock of hearing about this since had the most interaction with this 'cult' as apparently one of the Ghost Kings children liked to call the League of Assassins. The bat suit wearing hero was about to interject and ask more but stopped when the Ghost King let out a suffering sigh like the most tired parent in existence. "And you didn't think about telling me this sooner because?"
"We don't like to disappoint you Mom." The two children of the Ghost King replied simultaneously like one united front. Danny in response gave his kids a light chuckle. But before Danny could go on any further Red Robin decided it was probably a good time to interject and remind the Ghost King of their presence.
"I got a question if you don't mind..." He lifted his hand like he was in school as he pulled the attention towards him. His curiosity won over his caution of the situation. "Klarion if the Lazarus Pits are actually 'ectoplasm' as you mentioned before, and are largely influenced by your sisters emotion. What happens to guy that bath regularly in them or someone that got thrown in there and game back out rage filled?"
"Red Robin!" Batman call out reprimanding instantly knowing where Red Robins line of question was going.
The possessed LoA member on the other hand blinked at them before scratching their head sheepishly. "I think I know who your talking about. I am still sorry about that second guy. When he got dunked into my ectoplasm, I kinda just came back from a visit home and had a bad fight with Vlad and was especially rage filled towards him."
"So does that mean...?" Red Robin inquired further ignoring Batman's silent glare towards him for even bringing these questions up and just as Lassie was about to answer Danny interjected.
"Lassie, go fix your cult." Another green note at materialised out of nowhere and had fluttered in the air before him and caused the Ghost King to face palm the moment he read it's context.
"Mom?" Both Klarion and Lassie asked with a shared worried glance.
"Vlad has come into the dimension for some reasons and is currently getting chased down by your cult."
There was a stunned silence after which Klarion and Lassie, in the body of the LoA member, broke out laughing hysterically which only caused Danny to lightly glare at his children. Meanwhile the teen heroes weren't sure if they should feel sorry for the old man called Vlad but considering all the red flags they had picked up from what Klarion told them, they felt a little like the man deserved that.
The adults on the other hand felt slightly torn, well mostly Batman. It was clear that this Vlad was a bigger threat than both Klarion and the Ghost King were making him out to be, considering the entire existence of the Lazarus Pits hated that man. But on the other hand as heroes they probably should feel obligated to help the man especially if, according to the Ghost Kings words, he was currently gotten chased in their dimension by the League of Assassins.
Danny on the other hand never felt more like a tired mother than he did right now. Sure he knew about his unofficial second oldest hatred towards Vlad but this certainly was a new level of hate. Especially since she apparently 'accidentally' (he doesn't by that at all) raised an entire cult that subconsciously hated him too.
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monster-disaster · 3 days
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Can you do a female demon x female reader? I need more lesbian monster content !!!!
demon!female x human!Reader Good to know: smut
Summary: You meet an ex-classmate from college for an interview. She has other plans.
You can feel your professionalism slipping through your fingers with each passing second you spend in the female demon's presence.
The fragrance of her perfume fills your senses when Ada comes closer, sitting down on the armrest of the sofa. She leans against your side while gently holding your arm and caressing your skin with her freshly painted nails. The teasing touch sends shivers through your body.
"Your pictures don't give you enough justice," she says. "You are much prettier in real life."
Your voice gets stuck in your throat. "Oh?"
The woman hums, leaning closer. "I follow you on Instagram." Her plump lips ghost over the curve of your neck. "You are the sweetest in your colorful summer dresses."
"Thanks," you croak out, almost sounding like a question. Heat burns under your skin while your heart pounds in your chest.
"I hoped you would wear one of them today."
"I'm sorry?"
"It's fine," she chuckles, looking over your form shamelessly. You wear a white blouse with a dark blue skirt that reaches your knees and matches your high heels.
Standing up from the armrest, Ada moves in front of you. You feel cold without her firm body pressing against your side.
You watch her, mesmerized and breathless. "What are you doing?"
A slow grin pulls on her vivid red lips as she slips onto her knees. Your thighs clench at the sight of the woman.
Ironically, there is something ethereal about her. Perhaps it's the smoothness of her light pink skin or the gentle curls of her dark hair framing her horns, which are a few shades darker and gracefully trace the curve of her head. You can't be sure since there is so much you can admire about her. Your heart skips a beat as your eyes follow the straight slope of her nose and the firm curve of her full lips.
"Something I wanted to do since we met in college."
You can feel the warmth of her palms even through the thin fabric of your skirt as she rests them on your knees. Your muscles tense for a second when the beautiful demon pushes them apart while your mind struggles with keeping up with the woman. Her hands trail up on your legs, pushing your clothes up with the slow but confident motion.
Ada looks up at you with amusement in her eyes. "Did you know I liked you back then?"
You shake your head. You had no idea. The demon wasn't a mean girl by any means, but she was always... unreachable. Sometimes, you weren't even sure if she knew about your existence even though you spoke several times.
"I'm surprised," she chuckles.
By now, your thighs are bare under her caressing hands. Her thumbs move between your legs in slow circles, getting closer and closer to your panty-clad pussy.
"Why?" You ask. You sank deeper into the sofa without your noticing. You melt under her touch.
"All my friends knew about my crush on you."
You want to slap yourself across the face when the only reply you can force out of your mouth is an 'oh' and Ada laughs again, slipping her long, manicured finger under the damp fabric of your panties to pull it away.
"It's fine, though," she says. "I mean, this is my chance to make up for the lost time."
Your mind is blank as you try and fail to process everything. Your whole body is on edge with anticipation. There is a heavy knot in your belly, keeping you on the sofa, compliant and easy under Ada's attention.
"And it's definitely worth the wait," she grins, letting the tip of her thumb brush over your clit for a second. Just enough to take your breath away and send shivers down your spine.
"Really?" You gasp out, holding onto the leather of the sofa. Your nails dig into it, and you only hope you don't damage the fabric.
She hums, leaning closer. Her shoulders spread your legs apart even more.
When you woke up and got ready to do an interview with your old classmate about her successful company, you didn't think you would end up like this. Half-naked and wet in her office while she feasts on the sight of you.
"So pretty," she says, letting her finger slide over your wet slit once again, parting your lips in the process to get a better view of your soft, glistening center. "And smells so good."
Your mouth opens to say something, but before you can form words, the demon grabs the flesh of your thighs to tug you to the edge of the seat.
"Hold them for me," she says, holding up your legs until you reach behind your knees to do as she says.
Heat and embarrassment flood your whole body in the new, vulnerable position.
"Good," she hums, reaching under you with one hand to grope your bottom while her other hand keeps your panties out of the way.
You watch Ada transfixed as she leans down and licks your pussy with one long swipe. Her eyes are on you the whole time, staring at your unfocused eyes, open lips, and heaving chest. The demon's mouth moves up to your clit, flicking it with her tongue before sucking the sensitive bud into her mouth. Her cheeks hollow, and your back arches. Your legs almost slip out of your hold as your toes curl with pleasure.
"Ada." Her name escapes your lips as a moan, and she hums, satisfied.
"You taste so good, Y/N," she says. Her lips and chin shine because of your wetness. "I imagined being between your legs so many times since you called to get an appointment with me."
"Really?" You gasp out, her thumb works on your clit, not giving you any break even while she talks.
You called her because of the interview a week ago.
"Really," she replies. "I was so angry when I couldn't find a date sooner to meet you."
"It's fine," you gasp. Your hips grind up against her hand. Her fingers are soaked with your juices by now.
The female chuckles. "It is now."
She winks at you before lowering her face down back to your pussy, opening your lips to feast and slurp on you. Her finger doesn't stop on your clit while your climax builds inside you with each passing second.
"I'm almost there," you groan, closing your eyes.
Ada hums. The vibration of her reply rolls through your body in thick weaves. You moan and gush around her tongue that slipped inside your aching hole while you were busy chasing your pleasure under her caress. 
Ada's tongue fucks your pussy while teasing your clit and making you see stars under your closed eyelids. Your orgasm ripples and trembles through you while your muscles jerk and twitch, and your nails dig into your own skin at the curve of your knees.
For long seconds, the world stops existing while you sag into the sofa, and the woman still between your legs cleans you up with long swipes. Every touch and lick of her tongue on your sensitive flesh makes you twitch and shake.
When you lift your head to look at her, she grins at you hungrily. "We can start the interview now."
- Masterlist Sweet Asks Patreon
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dinogoofymutated · 1 day
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Hi!! I LOVE your Remy hcs! They were so sweet and in character 😊 I'm on my period and ya girl is suffering and I keep thinking that Remy would be the sweetest AND totally amazing in the fried food department 👀 Any hcs? Totally chill if nah
xx
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Gambit/AFAB!reader!- Period HCS YES!!! just yes. absolutlely. I want to taste this man's cooking so bad but I am ridiculously sensitive to spice and would probably die.
I have a similar req for Nightcrawler as well so keep an eye out for that one too ;) Sorry that this is a little short!
TWS: Menstrual cycles. Cramps. Menstrual cravings. Damn I'm hungry rn ngl. Can be read as GN as no pronouns are mentioned.
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If cooking Isn't one of Remy's love languages I'm calling bull!!
I mean, who else would go out of their way to cook beignets for breakfast? I mean, sure, he could have made the dough beforehand but seriously that shit takes time.
I 100% believe he would go out of his way to make you anything you were craving on your period. Fried chicken? Done. Beignets? Obviously. Done! Hell, you want stuffed french toast but every time you try to make it you fail miserably? Don't worryyy! He's got you.
Although, that doesn't mean he does it for free!! He asks for payment via smooches and love. He tends to stray away from period sex until he knows you're comfortable with it, and if you are comfortable with it he's always there to offer his assistance if you need an all natural pain killer ;)
Mother nature fucking sucked. It wasn't enough that you had to deal with blood leaking out of you every month, but debilitating cramps on top of that? Straight bullshit!
You've been cocooned under your blankets all morning, curled up into a fetal position as you delt with the intense cramps. You've already taken the last of the painkillers you kept in your bedside table, and unfortunate for you, they were not working. You know you've certainly missed breakfast by now, but you just hurt too much to get up. You're face down on your pillow when there's a quick knock at your door before it opens.
"Good morning, Chère~" Remy sings. You cant really respond to him other than giving him a tired hum. You hear the door shut behind him before the sound of him placing a plate on your bedside table.
" 'Figured you weren't feeling well when you weren't at the table, so I've brought you the Gambit special." He jokes. You feel the bed shift with his weight as his sits next to you, running his hand up and down your back soothingly.
"Thanks Rem." You mumble. If only you could bring yourself to sit up. You can smell the sweet scent of the beignets he had brought you, and it makes your stomach growl loudly. You wince as another wave of pain hits you coincidentally, and you're absolutely sure your body was planning to kill you.
" S' pretty bad, huh?" Remy asks, a comforting hand brushing the hair out of your face. You nod.
"Alright, c'mere." You don't have a chance to refuse as Remy is sitting you up, making space so he can sit against your headboard. You're blearily blinking your eyes open as he drags you into his lap, propping you up against his chest. You send him a groggy, questioning look, but he only responds with catching you in a chaste kiss.
"What? You didn't think I was gonna let my favorite person suffer alone, did you?" He asks, sending you a smile that you can't help but return. Remy feeds you your breakfast like that, keeping you snug and safe between his arms as he gives you plenty of kisses and rubs your lower stomach through each wave of pain. Those painkiller never did kick in, but at least you had someone sweet to distract you for a while.
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Text
The Quiet Ones 7
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No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: You live a quiet life, but your peace is fractured by a chaotic man.
Characters: Lloyd Hansen, short!shy!reader
Note: like Staind said in that one song, it's been a while.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.
Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖
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Lloyd brings you down the flight of stairs, his arm through yours as you teeter in the heels. You’ve never been one for anything besides flats or sneakers. You’re getting acquainted to the painful arch of your feet and it’s doing little for your agitation. 
While this man might be entirely too direct at times, he can be just as vague. You still have no idea why you’re dressed like some dainty rose. Whatever delusion he’s living in, it’s not the fairytale he believes it is. 
Savoury aromas waft in the air and draw your nose towards the kitchen. You glance at Lloyd curiously. He puts his hand over yours and winks. You quickly turn your head straight. 
“Don’t worry, jelly bean, I got everything sorted. Can’t have you sweating up a storm in the kitchen. Private chef,” he clicks his tongue, “besides, our guests won’t settle for anything less.” 
You arch a brow but don’t ask. As much as you want to know who he’s expecting, you dread finding out. You highly doubt it’s good company. 
He takes you into the living room. A large chandelier dangles from the high ceiling, the long crystals casting marbled pale light around the space. The tall windows peer out onto the green lawn, dim in the rising evening hue. The ornaments are just as sleek and precise as every other room. Polished marble and spotless porcelain. 
As you take in the curved couch and round ottoman, Lloyd shifts your hand from the crook of his arm and tugs you to face him. He raises your knuckles high and kisses them. You blanch and resist the urge to pull away. His mustache tickles your skin. 
“Baby, you look spectacular,” he purrs, “did I mention that dress hugs your ass in all the right ways.” 
You bite down and nearly snatch your arm away. No. Don’t rile him. Tolerance will keep you safe.  
“You didn’t,” you murmur as he clings to your hand and places it against the chest of his jacket. He wraps you up in his arms as if he means to dance with you. 
“Well, shit, it really does,” his hands crawl down your sides and he scoops your ass up in his large hands, forcing a squeak from you as you press against his chest. “How about an extra dessert tonight?” He winks. “I bet it’s sweet, huh?” 
He leans in, nuzzling your forehead as he growls. You shudder, but he might mistake it for excitement. His nose brushes yours but his lips stop short of yours as a chime interrupts him. He freezes and reluctantly draws away. 
“Wait here,” he smirks and flutters his fingers longingly as he struts away. 
You blow out through your lips and swivel to glance around. It’s a nice place but you miss your apartment. You miss being alone. You miss when you didn’t know this man. 
You mash your hands together and wring them. You hear voices. A man and a woman. Great. This is really strange. You don’t understand what exactly he’s up to. Is he not afraid you’ll start begging for help? Somehow you don’t think that would do you much good. 
“She’s in here,” Lloyd’s voice carries through ahead of him, “mom, dad, my lady,” he waves towards you. 
You stand frozen to the floor. Uh. Mom? Dad? Oh gosh, it’s a family dinner. You blink and slowly step forward as Lloyd waves you closer. 
“My mother, Delores, and father, Lawrence,” he introduces the two other figures. 
The woman is tall and blond and statuesque. You feel even smaller in her presence. She looks down her long nose, her irises blue as ice, and her lips a soft shade of rose. Her hair is so icy, you can’t tell if it’s blonde or silver. 
The man is as tall as Lloyd, a little broader, and wears a cerulean jacket over black. His hair is streaked with the same sandy shade as his son, mingled with shocks of white. He tilts his head as he measures you, his eyes narrowing. 
“Hm,” that’s all you get. You feel much the same. 
“We’ve come all this way, tell me supper is ready,” the woman, Delores, tuts. “Crab cakes, right, honey?” 
She looks at her son and he frowns. His mustache makes the expression even more theatrical. You hate to disappoint but what did he expect? I mean, look at you. 
“And I appreciate you coming,” Lloyd says, sounding unlike you’ve ever heard him in your short acquaintance. Something about it is disingenuous, for as honest as that man can be. “We’re super excited to have you.” 
“Have you had those windows looked at?” The man stops to scope the ceiling to floor panes, “impractical things.” 
Lloyd’s shoulders square. You can’t see his face but you’re certain he’s not happy. You don’t see anything wrong with the place. It’s a bit over the top, too sleek, too shiny, but it’s not horrid. Most people can’t afford anything like it. People like you in your boxy apartment. 
“This way,” Lloyd says and waves them towards another doorway.  
He takes them across the entryway and you follow behind. The dining room has high ceilings and an overly long table. You can’t imagine anyone would ever need that many seats. 
Lawrence sneers with disapproval as Lloyd pulls out a chair for his mother. Delores primps herself as she sits, popping a compact out of her purse to touch up her lipstick. You stare from the doorway, drawn forward as your host clears his throat and eases another chair away from the table. 
You near and sit. His parents have even you on eggshells. You can tell they won’t be much help to you. You’ve got more than enough with their son. 
“I’ll just go check on dinner and you can get to know each other,” Lloyd declares as he claps his hands. 
You wince as his mother snaps the mirror shut and puts it away. She looks you up and down as you keep a dull stare. His father examines the butter knife as if searching for any speck of filth. 
“So, dear,” Delores begins. “Aren’t you a quaint one?” 
You scrunch your nose up. Quaint? You’re not a house. 
“Quiet, aren’t you?” She chuckles, “well, what do you do then? How’d he find you?” 
“Probably one of those websites again,” Lawrence grumbles and curls his lips. “Women these days, they’ll jump at a dollar sign.” 
You shake your head and tilt it. You’re not a mean person. You wouldn’t consider yourself malicious at all but he annoys you. And her. Their judgement reminds you of your schoolyard bullies. 
“I do data entry,” you answer, ignoring the snipe. “We met... uh...” you frown and look at the table.  
We met when your son stalked me and starved me out of my apartment. Yeah, you don’t think that’s going to get more than another condescending trill from her and indifferent grunt from him. You pick at your nail, the movement catching her eye, and you pull your hands apart and hide them behind the table. 
“We met...” 
“At the cafe,” Lloyd strides in and approaches the chair next to you, standing behind it, “supper will be out shortly.” He sits and grabs your hand, bringing it onto the tabletop, “you know, I saw her from across the coffee shop. Just waiting. I was just taken by her. Her effortless beauty--” 
“Effortless indeed,” Delores comments. 
You flick your lashes and glance over at your abductor. How is he preferable in this moment? You blink and turn your dull gaze ahead, staring through the blonde. You don't do well with confrontation, you're more the type for avoidance.
Lloyd quiets and brings his other hand up, chewing his fingertips before ripping them away from his mouth. He keeps his grip on you with his other and sighs. He looks up and shrugs. 
The silence doesn’t last long as several bodies enter and lay out plates in front of each seat. A man in a black jacket and chef’s cap emerges and announces the appetizer; crab cakes with black truffle crostini. You stare at the food. It doesn’t look very tasty; it’s too curated. 
“Mm, crab,” Delores sings as she picks up her cutlery, “how delightful.” 
“Yes, see, I remembered,” Lloyd utters. 
“All this flash,” Lawrence clucks as he lifts his fork, “you know, there’s more too life than show. Your fancy car, the house, your women...” 
“Dad,” Lloyd goes rigid, “she’s not just another woman. I wouldn’t bring you here if--” 
“Oh, no? The last one, I recall, was wearing a bright red thong. How do you think I know that?” The older man snips. 
“She’s not like that,” Lloyd rebuffs. “I told you, she’s different. She’s the one.” 
“Well, she definitely doesn’t talk as much as the last one,” Delores remarks tritely. “And Lawr,” she nudges her husband with her elbow, “she does have a certain allure. She definitely is... different.” 
Your brows nearly meet in the middle. You close your eyes to hide the roll. You exhale through your nose. You don’t care about these people. You don’t even want to be here. So, why try? 
That's it. Don't try. You don't need to impress any of them. You're not going to dance for them like they want you to. They aren't your parents and your own parents don't earn enough of your concern. You don't care about them and you definitely don't care about the man beside you.
Defence is the best offence, right? You're not going for an outright attack, that won't work. It's about repulsion.
You wiggle free of Lloyd’s grasp and surpass the cutlery to pick up the crostini with your fingers. You shove the whole cracker in your mouth and chew without caution. You hum and nod as you swallow it down. Maybe if you can disgust his parents enough, they’ll make him get rid of you. It’s not much of plan but more than you had before. 
“Oh my,” Delores hovers her cutlery over the crab cake and gapes at you. 
“Mm, oh my, good,” you speak through a full mouth. 
“Uh, right, mom,” Lloyd raises his voice, “did you try the wine?” 
“The wine,” you say through another mouthful, “mmm.” 
You slurp messily. Your heart is racing and your skin is tingly. You don’t talk in front of strangers often. Always mindful of every single action. You never want to draw attention. Never step out of line but now, you’re toeing every one. It’s embarrassing. 
“Lloyd,” Delores breathes. 
“Honey,” Lloyd touches your shoulder, “let’s slow down.” 
“I’m starving,” you argue and nearly choke, coughing into your hand. 
“We still have several courses,” he lowers his voice, “please, jelly bean, don’t do that.” 
“Do we have any more of this stuff,” you hold up the second crostini. 
“Please,” he begs and puts his hand on your thigh, squeezing. 
You smile, food in your teeth, and show it to the table. You’re going to barf, not just from the soft cheese but your humiliation. Hold it together, just a little longer. 
“She definitely is... something,” Lawrence says and sends his wife a look of disgust. 
You clear your plate as quickly as you can. The food is like rocks in your stomach. You’re not used to eating that much, not to mention, that sort of fare. It’s rich to the point of too much. 
You wiggle your nail between your teeth and pick at them until Lloyd grabs your hand. You flutter your lashes in his direction. You really think you might throw up. Not only because of the fishy taste in your mouth. 
Before you can think of your next move, the plates are cleared away and replaced with the next course. An entree of filet mignon and seasonal vegetables, as announced by the chef. You imagine it’s similar to what they serve in those fine restaurants you could never afford. 
“Fine cut,” Lawrence offers as he turns over the steak with his knife and fork. 
You saw through your own and look at the middle, “ew, is it supposed to be this colour?” 
The table is quiet as you poke at the steak with your knife. You push it to the edge of the plate and make a face. You poke at the roasted potatoes instead.  
“Rare,” Lawrence sniffs, “I’ll take the chef’s name.” 
“Can he make cheeseburgers?” You ask. 
“Jelly bean,” Lloyd hisses, “what’s going on? What’s wrong with you?” 
“Nothing’s wrong,” you shrug and look at your plate and huff, “fine.” 
Like a bratty kid you pout. You pick up the steak with your hand and gnaw on it, making it into an effort. Lloyd reaches over and takes it from you, putting it back on your plate. 
“Stop, please,” he begs. 
You shrug and wipe your hands on your dress. He latches onto your hand, gripping it tight until your joints hurt. You wince as he stands, still clinging to you. 
“I was meaning to wait until dessert but... she’s had a long day. She’s not feeling herself,” he reaches into his jacket with his other hand and turns. He looks down at you and clears his throat, lowering himself to his knee. His blue eyes meet your grimace. Oh, god. “Jelly bean, sweetheart,” he pulls out the velvet box and your stomach lurches, “will you--” 
You bend over your lap as you lose all control. You spew onto the floor, the sick splashing onto your feet and Lloyd’s pants. You cup your mouth as you puff, bile staining your tongue. You groan and stay folded over your knees. 
“Oh, Lloyd, you can’t mean to marry that?” Delores sneers. 
“Truly, son, you brought us here for... her? Really?” 
Lloyd looks at you and his forehead lines. He shakes his head and opens the ring box, picking the ring from the cushion, and grabs your hand. He shoves the row of large diamonds onto your finger. You stare at the sparkle in horror as you slowly sit up and he stands. 
“We are getting married,” he insists, “and I didn’t bring you here for your blessing. I only brought you to let you know.” 
“Married?” You and Delores echo in fraught unison. 
“Yes!” Lloyd stomps his foot, nearly stepping in the puke. “You can’t stop me, she can’t stop me,” he jabs his finger in the air, “no one can stop me!” 
“Settle down, boy,” Lawrence says. 
“Come on, baby,” Lloyd snatches your wrist and pulls you to your feet, “let me get you cleaned up.” He winks and wiggles his tongue out at you and his parents groan.  He curls his arm around you and lowers his voice to a whisper, "I got something else for you to choke on."
Well, that didn’t work. 
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drdemonprince · 2 days
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I've experienced suicidal ideation since I was about 8 years old and got very close to attempting I think 3 times? I'm overall doing pretty well right now and it's been a few years since I seriously considered attempting, but I don't expect the thoughts to ever completely go away. I've got a lot of opinions as to what people can do to help, here are a few thoughts:
1. Just fucking *be there.* The biggest harm reduction tool I use is to just avoid being alone when I feel shit getting bad. Just offering to be around can go such a long way. If you're worried about a friend, ask to do homework together, start watching a show together, ask to come over after work and make dinner together. They may or may not be up to saying yes, but at least they know they have that option if they want it.
2. Relatedly, you can do small things to help them take care of themself. Showering and cleaning and eating vegetables all make me feel better but can also be incredibly daunting. Having a buddy helps. You can bring your friend some good leftovers (that they don't *have* to eat, maybe you just made too much), offer to help them fold laundry or pick up their room together while you chat, or call them before you plan to shower yourself to remind them to shower, too.
3. Send low-pressure reminders that you're thinking of them. Getting a "Hey, how are you doing?" text when I'm really in the thick of it? Awful. Way too much pressure to respond. Getting a "I made a new playlist if u wanna listen"? Huge! Just sending a meme or texting something about a show you both like is a great way to remind a friend you're thinking of them without making it all intense.
4. Don't make a big deal out of someone self harming, and never fucking shame them for it. When I self harm it's a way to divert my overwhelming negative feelings into something that isn't killing myself. It's a coping mechanism, and has genuinely saved my life. You will not get someone to stop self harming by expressing your worry or disapproval. If they want to talk about it, hear them out. Otherwise, it's not your fucking business.
Thank you Devon for opening up this discussion. I hope my experiences can be of some help, and I can't wait to read your piece on this.
This is amazing, thank you so much ♥️
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wrathofrats · 2 days
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Mushy May Day 6- "you're blushing"- alpha and omega.
As usual thank u to @forlorn-crows for the prompts
And thanks to @ghuleh-recs for the divider!
No warnings apply, just 750 words of alpha and omega flirting (:
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“Papa would never say that omega” alpha snorted
Omega chuckled to himself as he wiped the rim of a golden chalice with a cloth, setting it neatly in its place on the table.
“He did! Best guitar player in the entire ministry. Said he wouldn’t have wanted to summon anyone else”
Alpha set down the matching plate in his hands, giving omega a side glance. It was barely effective through the thick mask that adorned his face but he hoped omega had gotten the point anyways. He pulled the tablecloth free of any wrinkles as he took a look over the communion table one more time.
“Papa has threatened to send us back to the pits for spilling a drop of wine on his precious tablecloth, there’s absolutely no way he gave me a genuine compliment.” Alpha turned to stare at omega through his own mask, seeing as his eyes crinkle in what he can only assume to be a wide smile. “Besides, if you wanted to tell me how talented I am then you’re more than welcome to. No need to hide behind the excuse that papa said it”
Cleaning the chapel after mass was always a lackluster duty. Mostly sniffling from the dust that never seemed to dissipate, and making sure everything was to the ministry’s high standards of organization. It was always alpha and omega who were forced to stay an extra hour or two to wipe everything down and put things back in their places. The roles of being the right hand men of papa would be nice with their high ranking, but more often than not it meant they were sent to do boring monotonous tasks together that papa had deemed important.
“Oh I never need an excuse to compliment you, just don’t know if you can handle it” omega teased. A goading tone to his voice.
“You don’t affect me as much as you think you do, you’re only fueling my ego. But if that’s your intention then please do go ahead”
Omega stood to lean against the podium, an almost challenging look in his eye, practically asking if alpha truly meant what he said. It was a stupid stand off admittedly, more for alpha to metaphorically flex his muscles and stroke his ego than it was to really prove omega words couldn’t get to him. Or if it was purely for alpha to hear omegas sweet thoughts about him, then that was his business.
“Have I really never told you how talented I think you are? That you continue to impress me with how fast you learn the songs?” Omega said, crossing his arms in front of him
“Yeah I’m sure you do” alpha rolled his eyes, “probably because if I didn’t papa would have my head, we can’t all be favorites around here”
“You’re my favorite if it’s worth anything”
Alpha tried to look like that didn’t immediately make his chest constrict. A stupid tight feeling that he got whenever omega acted like he did like him beyond their stupid jokes and banter.
“Well I’d hope so. We are together constantly, didn’t think it would be earth or something” alpha played off like he expected that kind of answer.
“I just think that under your massive ego you’re actually really kind, I know how gentle you actually are alpha” omegas voice softened in a genuine, comforting way. He stepped away from the podium, instead making his way slowly towards alpha, who seemed to fumble at watching omega step towards him.
“Just not a complete evil bastard, is that so hard to believe?”
“I mean it’s not hard for me to believe at all, you’ve always been a sweetheart, to me at least.”
Alpha fiddled with the cloth under his hands as he tried from some leverage on the table. His eyes darted around, a horrible attempt at looking inconspicuous while also not looking omega in the eye.
“And that’s not even all of it. You’re so handsome under that mask, it’s such a shame papa makes us wear them all the time, would love to actually look at you while we work”
“Shut up” alpha choked
“Why? Are you blushing? You seem really flustered” omega chuckled, continuing to move forwards while alpha tried to subtly move backwards.
“I’m not blushing you asshole”
“Oh really? How about you take off the mask then”
“You just want to see my face since you love it so much” alpha tried to play off. He turned his face towards the floor, even the idea of omega seeing his eyes was more than a bit overwhelming as his face heated.
“Maybe I just want to see you blush for me”
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anothermansjeans · 24 hours
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never give you peace
s.r x youtuber!reader
summary: during their first date, youtuber!reader feels the sudden anxiety that they can never give spencer peace
cw: little angst; hurt/comfort?? mentions of going to a restaurant, strangers coming up to reader, reader is in their head :( the smallest mention of the foyet/haley plot
wc: 855
a/n: hi!!!!!! i would LOVE to take requests for youtuber!reader and spencer!! PLEASE send them in! i love these two sm. inspired by peace by taylor swift!
++
You didn't know when it started happening– the random people walking up to you asking for photos– you just gradually started to get used to it after twenty or so times. Normally, it wouldn't bother you. The people who support you and the reason you make YouTube videos deserve the world in your eyes, but now that you're here, walking down the streets of D.C with Spencer on your first date… it was bothering you… just the tiniest bit!
It took a while for you and Spencer to get to this point. A lot of phone tag (you were both very busy people), you being out of town, and Spencer being out of town really put the two of you through the ringer. To say you deserved this moment of having a proper first date would be an understatement, which is why these two sweet girls walking up to you with shy smiles put you on edge.
“Hi! You're Y/N, right?”
You and Spencer were supposed to be at the small bistro not even a hundred feet away at this point. If you were by yourself, you would be ecstatic to talk to them. Maybe you're a shitty person (you're not. Spencer would later make sure to explain that you're allowed to have boundaries and that talking to strangers normally puts people on edge). Maybe for once, you wanted to not talk to the people who made your career possible. Maybe you feel too bad even thinking this way that the people pleaser is screaming to come out. “Uh… hi.”
“Do you mind taking a picture with us? We’re obsessed with your videos.”
You've been hyper aware of Spencer by your side the entire time. He’s never seen you in your element with followers. You have no clue if he's ever been through something like this with anyone he’s previously dated, but you want to assume this is all new to him and you're probably scaring him away as the seconds tick by.
You're only brought out of your thoughts when you hear Spencer speak up next to you. “Go ahead.”
“Okay…” The process was relatively quick. Spencer offered to take the photo, the girls thanked him profusely, and about five photos total were taken. When Spencer returns the phone the two turn back towards you with wide smiles plastered on their faces.
“Thank you so much! Have a nice night!”
And that was that. Except, it didn't feel like it was done. There was an awkward feeling settling over the two of you, but nothing was said as Spencer linked your arms back together and continued to walk to the bistro.
It was eating at you the entire time you've been in the restaurant. He never brought it up though, always steering the conversation to your shared interests and throwing in a fun fact now and then. It was right before the check came that you finally had enough with the all-consuming thoughts and blurted out the only thing you could truly focus on.
“I could never give you peace.”
“What…?” His wrinkled eyebrows did all of the talking.
“My… job. More people have been doing what those two girls did– asking for pictures. And I know how serious your job is, if people start asking for pictures of you too… I don't want to put you in that position.”
It was quiet for a moment. Although he was a genius, Spencer needed a moment to take in what you said. “Ditto.”
What? “What?” You slapped your hand over your mouth. You did not mean to say that out loud.
He didn't flinch, going straight into explanation. “My job is serious. Serial killer serious. My boss lost his wife because of this job. If you're worried about me in regards to your job, I’m worried out of my wits for you.”
“So… if we both can't provide peace?”
“It's a good thing I enjoy a little chaos.”
A small smile was shared between the two of you, and after the waiter dropped off the bill, you took another look at him. “Well, Dr. Reid, you really are a genius. You solved a majority of my fears with one small conversation.”
“It doesn't take a genius to see what he has in front of him has great
potential to be one of the best things in his life.”
A smirk appeared on your face when he shyly looked at you. “That good, huh? Does that mean I scored a second date?”
“Of course!” Spencer perked up, eyes immediately widening. “Did you know that the typical success rate for getting a second date is 13.7%, which gives a match an opportune time to learn the real chemistry between them and their match, including their values, passions, and family? First dates are actually–”
Sitting there, listening to him changed the smirk to a genuine smile. Maybe the two of you couldn't provide peace on the outside, but as he continues to speak passionately, you feel nothing warmth spread throughout you. The same type of warmth you feel at home; the same type of peace.
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calxide · 1 day
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⸻ SLEEPLESS NiGHTS 💤
kazuha x gn!reader | 500+ words ; no pronouns used for the reader. i, literally, cannot sleep so i wrote this fic pls help. written in lowercase. not proofread pls just let me sleep already. words: milk, punch are mentioned. sleeping tgt. god when will i have this. just pure fluff, some brainrot, and definitely no sleep for me.
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“i can't sleep.”
it's past two in the morning, yet here you are, standing in front of a dazed, closed-eyed kazuha — a plushie in your arms, blanket on your shoulders, and an oversized pajama.
kazuha tried his best to force his eyes open. but he fails, so he just sends you a smile.
“come in.” kazuha almost hit his head on the doorframe when he turned around to make way for you to get in.
you plopped yourself comfortably on his sofa. “sorry, i had a terrible sleeping schedule last week. now, i can't get it out of my system.”
you've been pulling all-nighters last week because of the hell-stack of schoolworks you had to do, and now, you couldn't bring yourself to sleep, so you decided it's best to show up at your best friend's door at 2 am since you live in the same building anyway.
kazuha chuckled and went to the kitchen. “milk?”
“sure… i'll take anything to make me pass out.”
“a punch then?” he joked.
“why not?”
a few minutes later, he comes back with two glasses of milk in his hands. “here you go, sleepyhead.”
“you're the sleepy one here, dummy.”
“fake it til you make it, they say,” he joked and took a sip from his glass.
as soon as you both finished drinking, kazuha offered to bring it in the sink. after a while, he came back with a blanket enough to fit you two in—enough to cover the sofa you were sitting on.
you raised an eyebrow as if asking what's his plan for the night. kazuha simply shrugged, sat beside you again and covered you.
the blanket was fluffy. it was warm to be under the blanket, and even warmer with kazuha by your side.
you noticed him drifting off. kazuha has been a victim of your sleepless nights for quite awhile now, but he doesn't seem to mind. sometimes he'd ask you to tell him stories so your problems would come off your chest, sometimes he'd be the one to tell tales for you to fall asleep.
but tonight, kazuha's clearly tired, he's completely dozing off. his head was hanging and you're worried he might actually fall off the sofa.
“you can sleep on my shoulder, you know,” you whispered your offer. “or like, just lay your head on the sofa.”
without thinking much, kazuha immediately made himself comfortable using your shoulder as his pillow. you wondered if he had forgotten you were the one who he was supposed to help fall asleep.
although, you don't really mind. sometimes, it's not bad to lend a shoulder to a friend, literally.
you and kazuha just stayed like that for who knows how long — it was quiet, the comforting kind, with the only source of noise coming from the air-conditioner.
you examined his peaceful sleeping face. kazuha looked beautiful as he always does.
you smiled as you felt your heart flutter. ah, silly thoughts.
“good night, kazu,” you mumbled.
you planted a kiss on kazuha's hair, then laid your head on top of his. yawning, you finally felt the melatonin kicking in. and so, you drifted off to dreamland.
kazuha shifted his position a bit and smiled as if he was dreaming. “sweet dreams, y/n.”
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NOTE hello hahahahaha 5 months in in 2024 and im back just because my eyebags are insanely bad and i havent had an 8-hour sleep since god knows when (exaggerated but u get my point) plzzz wait for me school is almost done. thanks hope i can fall asleep now... p.s. i havent written anything for so long now so i apologize...
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