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#when your chips keep making jokes
selkiecoded · 5 months
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okay thats interesting! in the SF try-outs during the song "legally blonde" she sings about how she cant be legally blonde, while in the official version AND THE DEMO she sings about letting her be legally blonde. which means that at some point they changed the lyrics around, and then changed them back! laurence o'keefe.... nell benjamin.... what occurs in your twisted minds
#covers mouth sorry so sorry guys#im a huge fan of beacon of positivity + good boy (elle puts a leash on emmett confirmed) + love and war (not in the demo but part of SF)#+ i liked some of the lyrics in the demo version of so much better (it called back to beacon of positivity!!! (i am insane)) such as:#I dream of your name next to my own but mine's looking fine up there alone#but i greatly prefer all the official songs we got. well. maybe good boy over ireland wouldve been fun (i think ireland is boring)#but itd play into the 'all men are dogs hurr hurr' joke that im glad they avoided. anyways. what was i saying.#right i havent listened to every version of everything yet (for example theres a SF version of chip on my shoulder i need to watch)#(and just the SF vers in general. shes hidden from me... why was emmett there before the remix... let me see their conversation)#but from what i have heard they made a lot of changes that were sorely needed. in take it like a man demo shes so much meaner??#it made me sad. it wasnt a duet + they wrung out the romantic tension (no subtext by calvin klein... sigh) + shes meaner!!!!#in the bway vers hes baffled but enjoys going along w it + she genuinely likes him even when hes wearing his regular clothes#but in the demo vers she keeps calling him stuff like ugly duckling and talking about how the geek is gone :( but she likes that geek..#the lines 'how much do you think i earn??' and 'kindly shut up :)' are funny but speak to a dynamic between the two that makes me sad...#follow me for more beautiful opinions on a fifteen year old musical#(heaves. do you know weird it is to see comments from 15yrs ago when this was actually showing. my brother is fifteen.)#god im so sorry i should be put down like a dog#lgb bootleggers are intense. i swear they got a bootleg every night or smth bc we got her shoe flying off + SF + kyle as understudy etc#go watch a so much better compilation sometime how did they take so many bootlegs?? how did you find them??#and its awesome cause these were filmed on 2007/2008 tech which means they have 15 pixels maximum#SORRRRYYYYYYYYYY
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goosita · 4 months
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coriolanus snow is not a good man— he watches you from afar, eyes like a hawk and plush bottom lip pulled between his teeth. he doesn’t know if he’s being obvious and he doesn’t particularly care. he feels his teeth clench when you laugh and chat with other men, something hot and unpleasant stirring below his ribs. it should be him that makes you giggle like that, makes your nose scrunch like a little bunny rabbit at a joke. jealousy stings and he finds himself having cruel thoughts about things he wishes would happen to those other boys.
coriolanus snow is not a good man— but you speak to him so kindly, so softly. he’s never once mentioned anything about his home life, careful to keep up his facade. but you? you notice the way his cheeks are hollow, the way his belt has extra notches punched into it to tighten further. you wordlessly slide him a granola bar in class and pretend you don’t hear the way his stomach gasps the way he refuses to let his mouth do. you bring him a tin of cookies you “had leftover” the night before, filled with chocolate chips and butter that will bring his calorie count for the day up. he doesn’t say thank you, but the way the corners of his lips twitch upwards and his gaze softens when you pass him a pastry under the school desk is enough thanks for you.
coriolanus snow is not a good man— his hands shake sometimes, when he remembers the way sejanus had cried for him to help at the hanging tree. when he remembers the sound of his only friend’s neck snapping and echoing, the way it sent chills down his spine and he felt like vomiting. he did that. he killed sejanus. he is a murderer, and yet you still brush his hair back in the middle of the night. its starting to grow again, pale locks falling over his brow. he is a murderer, and you still kiss his temple. you still whisper that you love him, that he’ll be okay.
coriolanus snow is not a good man— the sore in his mouth aches, a necessary evil to ensure your safety. he’d had no other choice, that senator from 2 was eyeing you all evening at dinner. for fuck’s sake, he shouldn’t let it get to him. he’s a president now, not some unhinged teenage boy. but the way that man had touched you, let his fingers linger at your waist, that would simply not do. you are the first lady of panem, you were untouchable. to anyone but him, of course. as you pass by him where he sits, you tut softly and pause to brush the blood off his lip, licking the red fluid off your own fingertip and dropping a kiss to his head. you remind him to be careful.
but coryo is good to you— he touches you so carefully, hands so gentle. his fingertips are always cold, but it never bothers you. not when they brush against your hairline, his palms cradling your cheeks as he kisses you like a man starved. not when they graze the bare skin of your back, your chest flush with his as his lips make their way down your neck. not when they squeeze at your hips, your thighs splayed out around his own waist and trembling with the way he pushes his cock up into you. not when they caress your cheek in the morning, his soft whispers of “good morning, sweetheart,” echoing in your ears.
coriolanus snow is not a good man. but he is your man.
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buckyalpine · 6 months
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Sharon calls you fat (pregnant reader)
I live for the angst where Sharon/people call reader fat and make fun of her not knowing she's pregnant and Bucky protects the ever living fuck out of her because that's his gorgeous babymama. Bonus when Sharon is a jealous hoe. Throw in some protective avengers in there too. Breeding kink? Pregnancy kink? Also yes. He's a feral, horny little shit here, I apologize.
You huffed as you buttoned your jeans, the waistband sitting snugly around your waist, pressing into your skin a little bit more than usual. You dug through the closet to find one of Bucky's hoodies to slip on, loving the way the soft material engulphed you in his scent.
You weren't showing much yet but your body was certainly changing. Your sense of smell was heightened, constantly craving to be surrounded by your boyfriends smell. Your breasts were growing heavier and your clothes were more fitting than before. Cravings had already started. Your cheeks were a tad fuller and you were certainly glowing.
Bucky's super soldier serum was no joke.
You made your way down to make something for breakfast, grabbing a bag of peppermint tea to help with some of the nausea you had been experiencing. Sharon sauntered into the kitchen, still clad in her tiny workout clothes as she went to the fridge to grab a water bottle.
"Hey Sharon" You smiled as you poured water into your mug while munching on a cookie, grabbing another when your tummy rumbled. Baby Barnes clearly took after daddy, craving anything and everything sweet. And salty. And sweet and salty.
"Hey y/n" Sharon's eyes looked at you up and down, cocking her head slightly while you snacked, rummaging around for something else to eat. "Might wanna cut down a little there, huh" She teased, nodding to the potato chip you popped into your mouth.
"What?" You weren't sure you heard correctly, setting down the bag while she pursed her lips.
"Oh, nothing. I don't know how you eat that stuff, it's so greasy"
"Hm, yeah I guess" You gave her a weak smile, her words causing the insecurities you were already feeling about your body to creep back up again. You had a heavy feeling in your chest, seeing her flit about the kitchen, still perfectly toned. You shook those thoughts away, remembering the reason beautiful your body was different but it didn't do much.
The words still stung.
You decided to make your way back to your room to wait for Bucky to return from his morning jog with Steve, passing by one of the new trainees as you left the kitchen. Their hushed whispers caused you to stop in your tracks, your stomach dropping when you heard what they were saying.
"She's getting fat" Sharon snorted, hardly noticing you weren't out of ear shot while the trainee giggled along with her, nodding in agreement.
"Oh my God, you should've seen her at the gym yesterday. She was breathing so hard while running on the treadmill, I thought she was going to pass out. I don't even think she lasted 5 minutes before calling it quits" The trainee replied while Sharon rolled her eyes.
"She's gonna looked like a beached whale if she keeps eating like that, I swear she finished the entire row single handedly"
"I don't get what Bucky is doing with her. Honestly, I'm not even complaining. If she gets any fatter he's gonna leave her so maybe that'll make it easier for me" Sharon cackled along with the girl, the both of them snickering while swooning over the soldier. "He's so hot. I don't get what the hell he's doing with her, he can do so much better. Just wait till I show him, he'll see what he's missed out on"
You hardly realized you'd broken down into tears, slapping a hand over your mouth to keep from sobbing. You ran to your shared bedroom as fast as you could before anyone else saw you, closing the door and instructing FRIDAY to keep everyone out. You threw your jeans off, hating the way they were tighter on you, curling up under the covers, muffling your cries into the pillow.
-
Bucky ran his fingers through his short locks, making his way to the kitchen to grab some water after his run, smiling to himself knowing how much you loved to slink around him whenever he worked out. He loved how needy and cuddly you were, always burying your face into his neck of chest, trying to crawl up him like a tree.
"Where are you babygirl" Bucky called for you, expecting to see you in the perched in the kitchen with your pepper mint tea you'd recently been relying on, only to find a full mug without you in sight. Sharon and the new agent were still there, both of them eyeing him up and down, hoping to get his attention.
"Hey Sarge-
"Have you seen y/n" Bucky cut Sharon off, still looking around for you. Sharon rolled her eyes again, stating she hadn't seen you at all, since she'd spend her own morning working out. Bucky frowned, picking up the still hot tea, taking it up as he made his way to the bedroom.
"Sweeheart?" Bucky called for you softly, his heart racing when he hard soft sniffles from the other side of the door, his anxiety spiking when the door was locked. "Baby, are you okay? Can you open the door please?"
You hiccupped, trying to calm yourself down hearing Bucky's worried voice, quickly wiping your face before getting out of bed to open the door for him. His heart broke seeing his sweet girl with red rimmed eyes and puffy cheeks from crying, pulling you into him while shutting the door behind him.
"What's wrong mama" Bucky cooed, hugging you tightly while you whimpered in his hold, your insecurities at an all time high as he slipped his hand under your hoodie to stroke the bare skin of your back.
"Am I fat?" You whispered, worried the question would make realize you were less attractive, a fresh wave of tears streaming down your face.
"What?" Bucky pulled away, shock evident on his face while you stared at your feet, swallowing nervously.
"Please don't make me say it"
"Sweetheart, look at me" He held your face firmly in his hands making you look a him, "Why would you ask such a thing"
"I-I heard some people talking in the kitchen. Said I'm fat" If it wasn't for Bucky's enhanced hearing, he would've missed your fallen voice as you hide your face in his chest again.
"Absolutely not baby, who said that to you" Bucky held back on the red hot anger that surged through him, needing to comfort you first before raining hell on whoever hurt you.
"But I am Bucky!" You cried in frustration, pulling away from his hold. "It looks awful and I'm just going to keep getting bigger, I- I get if you don't find me as attractive-
"Hey, hey, stop, baby look at me" Bucky stopped your rambling, pulling you back into him, his hands holding your face firmly, "Do you have any idea how gorgeous you are to me? Hm? Do you have any idea how insanely attracted I've been to you ever since you told me you're pregnant?"
You shook your head, your heart jolting when he pushed himself against you, letting you feel the hardness between his legs, poorly contained in his joggers.
"Bucky-
"C'mere" Bucky threw your hoodie off before stripping his own clothes aside, his hard cock angry and leaking, desperate to fill you. "M'gonna show you baby"
He didn't give you a second to protest, carrying you over to bed and laying you down, spreading your legs apart, flicking his cock against your clit before tracing it down to your entrance and shoving himself home.
"Bucky!" you moaned, your legs moving on their own to wrap around his waist as he started to move, throbbing the entire time.
"You're so fuckin' beautiful mama, if you weren't pregnant already, we'd be in here all day till you were" Bucky groaned, grabbing and caressing your soft skin, already leaking into you. "You're gonna look so sexy when your belly gets all round, when these breasts get all big, they're gonna leak so much carrying my baby"
He moved to tug your swollen nipples between his pink lips, groaning at the thought of how sweet your milk would taste. Your back arched off the bed from how sensitive they were, your cunt fluttering around his cock, sucking him in deeper.
"I already know you're gonna get so swollen mama, its my baby in your belly. Did you forget its my cum that got you pregnant? Did you forget there's all that serum in my cock baby? I got you fuckin' pregnant, I'm you're babydaddy, I can't wait to see you get all tired, pouty and big with my super soldier baby"
"Oh fuck Bucky" you wailed, his words making your heart swell while your pussy nearly squirted as he hit that spongy spot deep in you, "P-please don't-don't stop"
"I won't stop baby, couldn't even if I wanted to, y'feel too good. Fuck, just knowing you're pregnant makes me so hard, can't believe I knocked suck a pretty little thing up, so lucky I got to stuff you nice and full"
Bucky started to fuck you harder till he headboard added new dents to the wall since the extra strength walls Tony added had nothing on Bucky's stamina and strength.
"Can't wait till everyone sees how pretty you're gonna look, m'gonna show you off, make sure everyone knows you're my girl, the love of my life, that you're carrying a piece of me in you"
"But- but what if they think-I won't look-" You're insecurities tried to sneak back in but Bucky wasn't having any of it, shutting ha down immediately.
"I'll fuck you in front of them. You think I give a fuck? I'll bend this pretty ass over, hold that perfectly round belly and stuff my cock in you till it leaks and makes a mess on the floor. I'll show them exactly what I did to get you that big in the first place, let them see how swollen my cock gets for you, goddamn, I'm gonna cum!"
Bucky fucked you hard and fast, letting you feel him in your stomach, not holding back one bit, his hand flying to grip onto the headboard.
"Bucky-Bucky gonna-I'm gonna-!OH GOD" You let out a silent scream, cumming around him without warning, your pregnancy making you extra sensitive, being able to orgasm without him even touching you.
"This sweet, soft fuckin' body" Bucky's pace faltered, sinking his teeth into your shoulder, "So good to me, so fuckin' good!, gonna cum mama, gonna give you more of my cream, gonna full that pussy up n'keep you pregnant forever, take it gorgeous, fuckin' beautiful, no one makes me hard like this, m'gonna cum so hard-fuck-fuck-FUCCCKKK M'CUMMING" Bucky roared against your neck, his cock bursting with ropes of cum, emptying his balls dry with sloppy thrusts until the sheets were soaked. You both panted, sweat covering your bodies, the sweet, primal smell of sex filling the room making your practically purr.
"You're the most beautiful thing to ever happen to me. I love you no matter what. You're stunning to me at any size, pregnant or not, don't you ever forget it" Bucky held you firmly, brushing his hands over your belly, pressing a kiss to your temple. You nodded, already feeling better, nervousness replacing your previous anxiety because you knew Bucky wouldn't let the incident slide.
"Who made you feel this way baby" His voice was gentle but he wasn't leaving any room for negotiation.
"Just leave it Bucky" You shrugged, not wanting to make it a big deal but he shook his head.
"Can't do that sugar. No one makes my doll upset. You get some rest alright? let me make you lunch and we'll take a nap after"
You nodded, letting him slip his henley over your head, grabbing some comfy sweats for you to wear and throwing on his own clothes before heading down. You froze as you neared the kitchen seeing everyone else downstairs gathered for lunch which was a rare sight but there had been less mission recently meaning everyone was home. Bucky gave your hand a comforting squeeze, a stark contrast the to protective anger he felt again.
"Who the fuck spoke about y/n" Bucky stormed down, silence filling the room immediatly, everyone staring at each other in confusion while Sharon's face filled with guilt. "Well?!"
"What happened Buck, Steve and I were training this morning" Sam said honestly, while the others nodded in agreement, still looking at each other wondering what was going on. "You okay, sweetheart?"
"Well someone said something because she was upset in our bedroom and it happened today" Bucky had a good feeling about who caused your distress, knowing no one else would ever do such a thing but he wasn't about to call out Sharon ha easily, seeing her already squirming in discomfort.
"There's an easy solution to all this, give me a second" Tony typed something into his phone before calling for Friday, "FRIDAY can you play back the audio from this morning from when y/n was in here"
"Certainly, Mr. Stark"
The audio started with you greeting Sharon, followed by her comment and then the conversation she had with the new trainee. Shock and gasps filled the room, everyone glaring at the blonde with disgust while she shook her head, her stomach churning.
"I-I didn't say anything! That wasn't even me!"
"Really? Then who the fuck was it" Bucky spat, ready to jump her across the table, his fists balled at his side. Sharon huffed, biting her lip while Bucky continued to glare at her, still holding your hand softly in his. His anger only flared more, thinking about how she thought she could replace you.
"Fine! I said it! But was I wrong? She is bigger than before" Sharon weakly defended herself, trembling when Bucky flinched, his self restraint growing thinner. Your eyes grew steamy, squeaking when Bucky moved to wrap his arm around your tummy, slipping it under your shirt.
"Cause she's pregnant. With my baby. I'm her babydaddy. I got her pregnant. You wanna know how? I fucked her. So hard. I didn't just fuck her, I made love to her cause she's my girl. Do you have any idea how attracted I am to her? How much cum there was? I didn't pull out once. She's so tight around my cock, its hard not to fill her up. Just kept going until my dick started to hurt and even then, I didn't wanna pull out"
Sam smirked at Bucky's utterly unhinged, x-rated rambling while Steve buried his red face in his hands. Tony cackled from the side while Nat patiently waited to get a chance to lay her hands on Sharon on Bucky's behalf.
"I-I get it, enough-
"You're delusional if you think I'd ever leave her for you. This is the love of my life. She's giving me a baby. She's beautiful. I chose this woman because she's special, she's this one I want to have a family with. You know what, you better get used to it cause I'm gonna get her pregnant again and again and it won't be hard considering how badly I constantly want her. In fact, we fucked just now, tell your little friend that"
"Oh my god" Sharon huffed, harshly wiping her tear streaked face, ready to throw up from embarrassment. She choked a sob, running out without looking back, Bucky's words tearing her apart. Everyone ignored her presence, immediately piling onto you with hugs, kisses and congratulations instead.
"Congratulations, babydaddy" Sam grinned, playfully nudging Bucky's shoulder making him blush, his arms still wrapped around your tummy. "And to you, little mama"
"I call god father" Steve announced, kissing your cheek before pulling Bucky into a tight hug, happy for his best friend and you.
Nat cracked a few knuckles, giving you a quick peck on the head, promising to celebrate later before following Sharon out, ready to hand her ass to her. The little trainee would be next.
"So what you're both saying is there's gonna be another super soldier running around here?" Tony's eyes lit up with excitement and a dash of fear when he remembered the baby would also be surrounded by idiots like Sam and Steve. He'd have to reinforce everything.
Immediately.
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ithebookhoarder · 4 months
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(BAU Headcanons) If you fell asleep on them
A/N: So... guess who fell into another fandom? I blame everyone on here and their amazing fics for convincing me I need to give this show and wonderful cast a chance. I may have binged 13 seasons in like a month... oops? I'm also looking at my fav BAU bunch here but I'm open to writing for other characters from the show
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Aaron Hotchner
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Just like some of the other members of his team, Hotch has a hard exterior that very few people manage to crack through. 
If you and he are in a relationship then I can bet you’ve already had to chip away at it, so you’re already pretty intimate with one another. Falling asleep on him is nothing to bat an eyelid at. If anything, he would welcome the opportunity to relax and hold you close to him.  
It also gives him an excuse to steal a few moments of sleep himself, not daring to move and wake you from your rest. 
He loves holding you close, letting himself listen to the steady beating of you heart as it gently lulls him to become calm enough to shut his eyes. 
However, if you weren’t in a relationship or if it happened in front of the others at the BAU then you know he’d immediately react by saying something about ‘work place conduct’. 
However, he’s clearly saying it for the sake of it as he’d make no effort to wake you or remove you from him. 
In fact, he makes sure to stay still and let you rest peacefully, making sure your neck isn’t bent so you don’t wake up in pain. 
He’d also make sure to lay his jacket over the top of you, a clear sign that you are not to be disturbed - under pain of death. 
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David Rossi 
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Rossi would be the first to complain if you ever fell asleep on him but it’s all good natured. In fact, he only ever complains about it to you after you’ve woken up and only as a joke between the two of you.
“What am I? Just a pillow to you? Are you trying to say my cooking has made me plump?” 
It’s hard to resist his charming smile, especially when he actually is rather comfortable to lean on. His expensive shirts are always soft to the touch, and the cologne you’d brought him last Christmas lingers as you nestle in close. 
He always make you feel safe, and that is an honour greater than any he’d ever been awarded. 
If it happened in front of the others you know he’d roll his eyes and mutter about the cheek of it all. However, his smile would be enough to tell the others he didn’t mean it. 
“I started reading my manuscript and this is what happens… guess that’s one way to leave a review.” 
He’d be sure to shoot daggers with his eyes at anyone else nearby who looked like they would wake you up. 
He’d also shoot down any possible jokes being made at your expense, his parental nature coming out in full force. 
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Derek Morgan
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This boy would be so smug if you ever fell asleep on him. Like, if you imagine a Labrador’s tail wagging with one of those big dopey grins, then that’s what he is. 
He is keen to try and capture the moment with a picture, setting it as his phone background to prove to himself it really happened. 
If it happens in front of the rest of the team then you know he is going to keep reminding you and everyone else whenever he gets the chance. 
However, you know that for all the bragging and teasing Morgan is actually super touched by the fact you fell asleep on him and he is keen to offer you a place to lay your head whenever you look like you need to take a beat. 
He even has a blanket and pillow in his go-bag especially for you. 
“Only the best for you, hot stuff.” 
He will never complain about it and - considering how much torture and pain we know this man can endure - he is more than capable of handling any cramp or pins and needles he gets as a result of you lying against him. 
Eventually, he would take the opportunity to try and sleep as well. With his job and his manic lifestyle, if he gets the chance to close his eyes he knows better than to waste it. 
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Emily Prentiss
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She would be shocked at first, especially if it’s early-on in your relationship. She isn’t really used to public displays of affection and you sleeping with your head on her shoulder is pretty public. 
She would stay as still as possible, though, scared of disturbing you or ruining the moment. She’d also probably be panicking internally, unsure what she was supposed to do. 
However, she soon takes a breath and relaxes. After all, you look so cute when you’re asleep and she is honoured you feel comfortable enough to relax around her like this. 
She doesn’t often get the chance to just sit and be peaceful so she savours the moment you’ve given her. 
She’d end up watching you for a while before relaxing and trying to adjust you so that you’re both comfortable. 
She would also take the opportunity to be affectionate, loving that she can run her hands through your hair and kiss your head without any fear of being embarrassed or rejected. 
After all, we know Emily has a soft centre underneath her tough, bad-ass exterior. She just needs to know she is able to express it. 
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JJ
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JJ is such a mom to everyone including you, so is over the moon the first time you fall asleep on her. She welcomes it with open arms, happy to melt into the embrace. 
It doesn’t matter if you’ve been together long or not, or if you’re in public. Either way, it feels like a personal badge of honour to be trusted in such a way, whether or not you meant to do it. 
She has enough patience not to move a muscle in case she disturbs you and ruins the moment. She knows that if you fell asleep like this then you probably need the rest. 
JJ would totally form a blanket cocoon around you to keep you warm and toasty as you sleep, wrapping her arms around you and cradling you close.
She’d smile the whole time, pressing kisses to the crown of your head and gently murmuring in your ear whenever you seem to stir. 
“Ssssh, Sleepyhead. It’s ok. I got you. Go back to sleep, honey.”   
If it was just the two of you then she’d be sure to try and move you somewhere more comfortable after a while, like the sofa or your bed. 
However, if you were in public then she would turn into a full mama bear and threaten anyone who came close or tried to disturb you. She has that angry mom look down to a fine art and has made grown men wither with it.
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Penelope Garcia 
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This beautiful baby angel would be so delighted if you fell asleep against her that she’d probably wake you up by accident after squealing a little too loudly. 
“Oh, oh, sorry. Sorry! Go back to sleep. I’m staying as still as a statue, you precious angel, I promise. So you just close your eyes and let me hold you.”
She’d probably manage like five minutes before she moves again and wakes you up, but it was enough time for her to steal a few private photos to commemorate the moment. 
They will most definitely be the background on her computer the following morning, and possibly yours too.
She would also be sure to make sure she has a blanket and pillow stashed away for you if you ever felt like taking an impromptu nap again when you weren’t at home. 
If you worked at the BAU they’d be kept in her lair - or your private napping room, as she tells you. 
They’d also be brightly coloured and super soft, chosen specifically by Penelope to make you as comfortable and as happy as possible, even whilst at the government building. 
“Just so you know, I gave them a spritz with this gorgeous lavender mist spray to help you knock right out the moment your pretty head hits the pillow. So, sweet dreams honeybun.” 
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Dr Spencer Reid
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Spencer is a precious boy and would be utterly baffled at first if he looked down and realised you had fallen asleep on him. 
He would be surprised he hadn’t noticed you drooping against him sooner, or that your breathing had slowed as you fell asleep. 
At first he thinks it must be a mistake, immediately trying to ease you off of him. After all, he wasn’t the most comfortable person to sleep on and people are far more likely to find his company irksome rather than soothing. 
However, after you start doing it more often he realises that isn’t the case. 
In fact, he feels rather proud that you’ve got the point in your relationship where you aren’t afraid to relax around him. 
He also learns how not to let it over-stimulate him. It takes some time to train his mind to not think about the possible pathogens that could be passing between you or the way your hair tickles his face. He’s also able to talk to you about positions to curl up in if you ever want to sleep against him again, that he feels more relaxed in. 
He’d also totally be happy to tell you all about whatever his latest hyper-fixation is, knowing the sound of his voice helps you settle better than any lullaby. 
Masterlist
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breadbrobin · 4 months
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campfire games
luke castellan x reader - percy jackson and the olympians
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[established relationship, fem!daughter of ares reader]
summary: bets are fun, until they aren’t. you’re fine though. luke knows you’re an absolute badass.
warning: pushy male behaviour, suggestive comments, swearing, bets, threats, assault (physical), sexual harassment.
word count: 1.6k
(help i’m writing too many of these but this is the only other good one also feel free to leave requests yall i’m on summer break i have so much time and need something to do 🤩🤩)
(also i am still in love with luke castellan thank you very much I CAN FIX HIM PLSSSS)
(also very sorry to anyone named andrew it was the first name i thought of)
——————————————————
there wasn’t much that your siblings in the ares cabin liked more than winning capture the flag, but watching you tear down another boys’ ego was definitely one of those few things.
campfires were great for many reasons. singing, marshmallows, games—and bets. when chiron and mr d. turned in for the night early, something that rarely happened, the bets would come out. guys would try and talk to you, your siblings would intercept them, find out what they wanted, then place bets among themselves and with other campers as to how long it would take you to tear them down a few notches, or, on occasion, tear them a new one.
clarisse patted your shoulder as two of your brothers talked to another camper. “incoming.”
“details?” you picked at the chipped red polish of your fingernails.
“son of apollo. been here for about two months. andrew. something about wanting to go on a date with you and thinking you’re prettier than the aphrodite girls.” she rolled her eyes. “he tried it on with me before and doesn’t like taking no for an answer, so break his spirit completely. or, you know, his bones.”
you saluted her teasingly. “yes, ma’am. you can count on me, sergeant.”
she patted your shoulder again with a joking grin. “good on you, private. godspeed.”
with that, she left you sitting alone.
well, not really alone.
luke castellan had somehow ended up as your bodyguard in all of these cases. probably something to do with the fact that you’d been dating in secret for the last three months. you weren’t a huge fan of keeping your relationship a secret, but when you’d told clarisse, she told you that her and your other siblings wanted to keep making easy money, and betting on me was the best way to do that. since everyone thought you and luke hated each other anyway, it was easy enough to keep it up, but as your mocking remarks turned to teasing, then to flirting, it was getting more and more difficult. and as he was getting more attractive each day, it was getting harder not to kiss him in front of everyone at camp.
you swivelled in your seat to look up at him. he was sitting three rows back, almost hidden in the darkness, a distinctly put out look on his face.
“you hear that?” you asked with raised eyebrows and a grin on your face. “he thinks i’m prettier than the aphrodite girls. when have you ever said that?”
“i told you you’re prettier than a model one time and you punched me,” he said dryly. “and then i said you look like a goddess while fighting and you punched me again.”
“in my defence, i did hate you at the time.” you shrugged. “got my back?”
“always.” he said seriously.
you grinned and winked at him as you turned around, waiting for the newest idiot to come annoy you.
luke had, once upon a time, been one of those idiots in your mind. he irritated you to no end. he was better than you at sword fighting, so you bested him at everything else. he was more popular than you, so you became one of the most well-liked people at camp. all of your attempts to break him down, however, only made him fall in love with you. now, there you were, wishing you could be sitting beside him instead of waiting for some loser to come annoy you to death.
“y/n, hey.” andrew said, sitting next to you, probably a little too close.
you looked over at him. “andrew, right?”
he nodded, his smile widening as you knew his name.
you sat up straighter and scrutinised him, looking him up and down. “yeah, you look like an andrew.”
you heard luke hide a laugh in his cup behind you.
andrew’s face fell a little, but he regained it quickly. “heard you were one of the best fighters in camp.”
“i am.”
“that’s pretty cool. i mean, i can help you become the best if you want.”
“no, i think i’m okay.”
“come on, i mean, everyone needs to improve. even the self-proclaimed best. bet i’m better at archery than you at least.”
you looked over at his smirk and had to stop yourself from smirking too. this would be too easy. “no. thanks, though. i’m good on my own. one of the best, remember.”
“you could be better. we should have a little challenge. a game.”
“i only play games with people i like.”
“you could like me.” he leaned a little closer. you leaned away slightly. “i bet i could make you like me.”
you had to stop yourself from laughing. “yeah, i don’t think so, buddy.”
‘buddy’ was usually all it took to break a man’s ego. you’d used it on luke many times during unusually flirtatious sparring, back when you still pretended to hate his guts. it didn’t work on him anymore, but it usually worked perfectly on everyone else.
andrew didn’t falter. “i bet i could. give me a chance. let me take on a date. show you a good time.”
“no, thanks,” you said calmly. your siblings were watching intently. clarisse looked ready to step in if you needed it. you wondered what he’d said or done to her to put her on edge. then you realised it wasn’t what he’d done to her. it was what he was about to do to you.
his hand was on your thigh, gripping onto the bare skin by the hem of your shorts.
his hand was on your thigh.
gross.
you looked up at him, eyes sharp. you could hear luke shifting slightly behind you. “what are you doing?” you voice was deathly calm.
“showing you that i can show you a good time, princess.” his voice oozed honey—sickly sweet and sticky, like a fly trap. good thing you hated honey.
“how about i show you how many bones there are in the hand? by breaking every single one.” your voice was equally as saccharine sweet, but your eyes were glaring daggers into his and your jaw was set tight.
he just shifted his hand higher. you tried to push him off but he was strong. annoyingly strong.
he tutted. “come on, sweetheart. you’re gonna make a scene.”
you finally managed to peel his hand off your skin. “i’ll make a scene, alright. get off me and leave me alone. and while you’re at it, leave my sister alone too.”
he raised his hands, a sickening, sleazy smirk on his face. “i was just being nice, princess. you and your sister need to relax. you especially. i can help you relax.”
“oh, i’d love that. you know how i relax?” you tilted your head mockingly, eyes hard. “i punch my enemies in the face.”
he laughed. “you’re cute. now, come on. it’s not like you’ve got anything going for yourself. i mean, you’re hot, sure, but no guys ever gonna look at you when they realise how much of a bitch you are. not like i will.”
you rolled your eyes and stood up. it was time to go and sit by luke. it grated at you, but if he wouldn’t listen to you, maybe he’d listen to another guy.
he didn’t let you leave. his hand gripped your wrist and pulled you back to him as he stood up too. you were chest to chest with him. he towered over you, at least six inches taller. you stepped back, but he pulled you in by your waist and laughed.
“look at how good we look together,” he smirked. “i could show you—“
you punched him in the stomach. he doubled over, finally letting you go, so you kneed his diaphragm. he gasped for air as you stepped back. your friend chris rodriguez whistled appreciatively.
“touch me, or anyone here, ever again and i won’t just hurt you.” you hissed at him. “i’ll beat your ass, then i’ll drag you past the boundary and leave you for the monsters. got it?”
he nodded, still hunched over.
“good boy,” you grit out.
“fucking bitch,” he grunted.
your eyes darkened, but you didn’t do anything. your siblings were right behind him, all ready to drag him away. “good luck walking tomorrow, andrew.”
“good luck finding a guy stupid enough to fuck you,” he scorned.
you laughed. “hey, luke?”
“yeah, babe?” he stepped down beside you, his hand settling on your hip and pulling you gently into his side. andrew faltered at the sight. he probably hadn’t even realised luke was up there.
“are you stupid enough to fuck me?” you asked with raised eyebrows.
he looked like he was trying not to laugh. “oh, i’m way past stupid.”
you didn’t care about any of your sibling’s bets anymore. you didn’t care that people thought you hated each other. you especially didn’t care that everyone was watching. you kissed him. and in front of the whole camp, he kissed you back.
your siblings groaned in disappointment, knowing their betting days were over, but you didn’t care. you smiled the stupidest smile ever as you pulled away, feeling like you’d just had your first kiss all over again.
“what?” he asked quietly.
“nothing.” you shook your head. “just glad we don’t have to hide anymore.”
after months of kissing behind buildings, pretending to fight in public and avoiding each other so people wouldn’t find out, it felt honestly freeing to kiss him in the open.
he kissed you again as your siblings dragged andrew away. “and all it took was an asshole.”
“thanks for not stepping in,” you said. “i had it handled.”
“oh, i know you did. i was more than happy to watch you destroy his ego.”
“good, because if you had stepped in—“
“i’d be going home in an ambulance?” he smiled.
“no, you’d be going home in a hearse.”
“ah, my bad.”
as the campfire kept burning, you sat down with luke. your legs were pressed against his and his arm was around your waist. there wasn’t much that you liked more than tearing boy’s egos down, but being with luke castellan was definitely one of those few things.
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jamespotterismydaddy · 4 months
Text
Spoil of War
dark!aegon x niece!reader
summary: aegon enjoys his time with his prisoner of war
A/N: my bad y'all, it took me forever to get this up
TW: MAJOR DUBCON, smut!!, bondage, incest, violence, kidnapping, degradation, body worship perhaps
word count: 2,245 words
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You sit in your childhood bedroom, stewing with your thoughts. It was all so quick, the battle with Daeron, the demise of your dragon. You should be grateful; she spent her last moments cushioning your fall so you wouldn’t die on impact, but you can’t help thinking that you would be better off dead. There’s hardly anything worse than being a prisoner of war, except being Aegon’s prisoner of war.
Speak of the Devil, Aegon has the guards open your chamber doors and the smug bastard strolls in. “Ah, my sweet niece. I finally have the chance to lay my eyes on you.” He regards your nightgown with great interest. You haven’t had a chance to dress yourself for the day yet. “You’ve been quite the subject of controversy as of late.” He says with a light smirk.
“Which part is controversial, the fact that you’re keeping me prisoner, usurper?” You say back to him with spite.
“Oh, don’t be so melodramatic. It’s a temporary situation.” He says, unconcerned as he walks over to your dining table of untouched food and picks up an apple, taking a bite of it. “Once your mother bends the knee, i’ll return you to her. It’s as easy as that.”
“Or they’ll take control of King’s Landing and Daemon will slaughter you where you stand.” You’ve never heard your voice filled with such hate before as when you speak now.
“Come on, the threats are hardly necessary. You are safe with us - for the time being.” He makes a stupid joking cringe face at the second part of his sentence. “You could do with being more amicable.”
“Amicable? I’m your fucking prisoner and if her Grace the Queen doesn’t bend the knee to your spoiled, traitorus ass, you’ll execute me.”
“War doesn’t often give you many options. And you, my dear niece, are a very valuable bargaining chip.” As he speaks, you know he takes the utmost pleasure in you being in his control. You want to wipe the smug grin off his face.
You reach for the piece of glass you had hidden, ever so slowly. You feel your hand clutch it and your gaze is filled with rage as you launch yourself at him. “You traitor!” You aim for his throat with the sharp point but he catches your arm. The broken glass barely grazes him, leaving only the thinnest line of blood as proof of your attack. He twists your arm and the piece of glass clatters to the floor. Your uncle releases you only so he can backhand you so hard that you fall to the floor.
“Gods, you’re a feisty little thing, aren’t you?” He wipes the drip of the blood off his neck. “Clever girl, going for the throat.” He laughs at you. You just tried to kill him and he laughs at you.
You glare up at him, your face distraught and full of vengeance. You quickly reach for the glass that you had dropped but as soon as you manage to grip it again, Aegon kicks you in the stomach. You curl into yourself, whimpering.
“Okay that’s enough of that. Guards!” The guards immediately enter the room, ready to defend their king. “Restrain her. Use… rope.” He has a certain look on his face as he says the last word, seemingly pleased with himself as he struts out of the room.
You’re left on your knees, by the fireplace for an hour until Aegon returns. Your hands behind your back, the bindings keeping you in place. There is, what you consider to be, an unnecessary amount of rope tied around your body that is seemingly for decoration, for your uncle’s pleasure.
“Are you calm now?” He asks as he strides back into your chamber with arrogance. “I wasn’t sure what the cool down time was for Strong bastards.” His stare is hungry as he looks upon you. “What a pleasant sight, my combative niece tied up at my feet.” He almost mumbles the last part.
“I will be calm when I watch your body burn.” There is heat in your words, your threats.
“That is a lot of big talk for a girl who is kneeling for her king. You’re much more desirable like this… when you’re helpless beneath my gaze.” His fingertips graze under your chin, tilting it up so you have to look at him. You jerk your head away.
“Don’t touch me!” You spit at his feet.
“Silly to say such things when you’re at my mercy.” He kneels down to look at you better, his fingers run along your soft hair. “I’ve never been more tempted. And i’ve been tempted many, many times.” He leans in to whisper in your ear. “I had forgotten how divine you are.”
You know where he’s going with this, what he wants. His finger trails down your nightgown, to your breast, giving it a light squeeze. “You’ll burn in the Seven Hells for this!” You say as you fight against your restraints.
He ignores your words. “If I were a more brazen man, i’d ravish you right here and now… oh wait.” He chuckles at his own joke.
The fire burns bright behind you and his dagger gleams in the warm light as he unsheathes it. He cuts one of the cap sleeves of your nightgown. “You have no right.” Your eyes flare bolder than dragonflame as you speak.
“Oh, my lovely sweet niece, I absolutely have the right because you are under my protection. If I want to rip that nightgown off and ravage you, who’s going to stop me?” He says sadistically… lustfully as he cuts the other cap of your gown.
“It’s not a proper way to treat an important bargaining chip.” You say softly. To be truthful, younger you would be preening at the chance to be so close to Aegon. Up until now, you had thought that part of you had died with Luke. Now, he’s so close, so... alluring.
“It’s not, but when have I ever been known to behave properly?” He then cuts your nightgown off of you, down the middle and as swiftly as he can without cutting through your bonds, leaving you naked other than the smallclothes that barely cover your lower half.
His eyes darken as he takes in the sight of you almost completely naked. His hand falls to your thigh, rubbing the smooth soft skin. “You’ve always had such a lovely figure, niece.”
You flinch and squirm some more. And then you begin to scream bloody murder. Aegon winces before grabbing part of your torn nightgown and shoving it in your mouth. “Such a noisy girl. Now, that’s better. You shouldn’t scream so much. I only intend to show you a good time. I promise you’ll love it.”  He smirks again. “Well… i’ll love it.”
His other hand trails up your navel, to your breast, giving it another squeeze. He then pushes you back on the flocculent carpet and what a sight you make with your hair splayed around you and your pretty mouth gagged. The pillows are strewn about you, in place so you can sit as close to the crackling fire as you wish. Now, it has become the perfect scene for Aegon to take you. He looks at you as if you are the maiden herself, descended from the heavens to be gifted to him. To him, your fairness outmatches Psyche… it outmatches Aphrodite. 
“You don’t know how long I have waited for this, princess.” He then rips your remaining small clothes off, leaving you completely nude. His eyes just rake over you for a moment before he speaks.  “Ah, a sight I could get used to.” He leans down to kiss your breast, focusing on your nipple, focusing on making you feel good? He litters little marks all over before moving to the other and giving it the same attention. He then begins to methodically kiss down your chest, to your tummy, past your navel. You know what he intends his final destination to be. You keep your legs clamped firmly shut, not fully because you want him to stop, and partly because of the wetness that lies between your thighs.
“Hm, a little shy, are we? How sweet…” It isn’t difficult for him to pry your legs open and he grins at the sight of you dripping for him. “Naughty little girl, all wet for her uncle.” 
You turn your heat to the side so you don’t have to make eye contact with him. He grabs your chin and turns your head back. “No. You will watch as I fuck you with my tongue.” You try not to groan as he licks up between your legs, his eyes on yours as his pupils blow wide. He kisses, licks and nips at you, taking you to places in pleasure you’ve never been before. When his tongue pierces your entrance, you can’t stop the whimper that falls from your lips. You hope the gag muted the sound enough that he wouldn’t hear, but your hopes are dashed when he lifts his head.
“I think I want to hear all the pretty little sounds that you make. No more screaming though. Unless, they’re screams of gratification.” He pulls the torn cloth from your mouth but you keep your lips stubbornly sealed. He shakes his head and chuckles before he is between your thighs again. The man eats you like you’re his last meal but you don’t let a single sound out, much to his displeasure even if he can tell that you don’t do it with ease. 
“Why must you be so difficult?” He asks exasperatedly.
“I want you dead.” He rolls his eyes at the statement. “Perhaps you aren’t as good at pleasuring women as you believe.” That pisses him off.
“You’re such a little liar.” He flips you over so your ass is in the air and your chest and face are squished into a cushion, your hands unable to hold you up due to their bindings. “Perhaps I need to fuck that bratty behaviour out of you.” He says and you hear the rustling of clothes behind you. You know he’s undressing and you know there’s no way you can stop him from taking you now, not with how you have pissed him off, not with how your cunt is so deliciously presented to him. But it won’t stop you from trying.
“Aegon don’t you dare.” You say with all the confidence you can muster. You don’t fear your maidenhood being taken, you fear the possibility of a bastard being put in your belly.
“Don’t you ever presume to tell me what I can and cannot do, wench.” With that, he shoves himself inside of you, all the way to the hilt. You let out a strangled moan and he laughs. “No keeping your sounds to yourself now.” He then begins to piston himself into you, the head of him brushing your cervix with each thrust. You feel so full every time his hips meet yours. “Gods i’ve never felt a cunt so tight and wet.” His hands grip your hips roughly so he can bring them back with each thrust, making it feel like he’s hitting deeper inside of you. 
“Aegon…” You whine out and squeeze a little around him.
“You like it, don’t you? You like it when your uncle fucks you. I’ve taken you as a prisoner and now you’re moaning in pleasure as I use you. What would your brothers think, what would your mother think, if they saw you taking my cock so well?”
You just whine his name again in response, your head too cloudy to give him an answer.
“I want you to say it. Say how much you love having me inside you.” He fucks into you so deeply that all you want to do is obey.
“I l-ove it, uncle. I love it when you fuck me.” You whimper out again as he stretches you so perfectly.
“That’s what I fucking thought.” His finger comes between your legs to rub your clit and you almost scream. “God, you’re such a little cockslut. Am I your first, little niece?”
“Y-Yes…” You say softly and he grins.
“I thought so. Nobody gets so worked up like a maiden.” He rubs you harder, so fast that you see stars. You begin to squirm a little as your walls begin to squeeze around his thick cock.
He grasps your hair at the roots and pulls your head back so you have to look him in the eye. “That’s right, cum around my cock, baby. Do it.” You fully reach your peak with his command. He watches your face contort with pleasure as you finish around his cock, drawing out his own orgasm. He gives a few more hard thrusts before spilling his seed in you. “Good girl.”
You wince as he pulls out, feeling empty now. He easily manoeuvres you back to your knees and stands up with you at his feet. He tilts your chin up so you have to look him in the eye again.
“I’ll be visiting you much more often now. You don’t have the kind of cunt a man can handle only fucking once.” His thumb strokes your cheek. For the depravity he speaks, his voice is surprisingly soft
“I hate you.”
He smiles gently. “Hate me all you want. I can take it.”
taglist (comment to be added): General: @valeskafics @urmomsgirlfriend1 @girlwith-thepearlearring @darylandbethfanforever9 @lovellies @juhdoche @papichulo120627 @watercolorskyy @ophelialaufey
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sixosix · 7 months
Text
summary you take it upon yourself to make it up to lyney when he couldn’t perform on the night he looked forward to the most—and lyney falls a little harder.
or, sickfic, basically, but it’s more than that
warnings wc 3k, mentions of injuries and blood, fluff!!! and a bit of angst oops
A/N @hiraethsdesires wanted to get tagged so here u goo!!! hope u like reading it <3
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“For the last time, Lyney,” you sigh, shoving one more macaron in the small, red box with the same shade as the accents of his hat, “I can’t attend your show.”
It’s a stroke of luck for him that you don’t have a line right now, or else you would’ve kicked him out the moment you saw him enter, fully expecting he doesn’t intend on leaving right away.
Lyney droops dramatically, his bottom lip jutting out in a pout. “Seriously? Not this week either?”
“Not this week either. Not ever, I’m pretty sure I told you.” You push the box against his chest, to which he responds eagerly by situating his free hand firmly over yours.
He keeps his grip firm when you try tugging your hands away. He bores his eyes into yours, too sincere and open for a performer such as himself—you feel a bit of your will chip away. “That night is special to me. Won’t you consider again?”
“Why is it special?”
Lyney’s lips curl into a smirk, striking right when you’ve faltered. “Because you will be coming to watch, of course.”
You jerk your hands out of his grip as he laughs. “Bold assumption,” you say, smiling a little when Lyney cries a ‘come onnnn’. “Lyney, I already said—”
“—That you have no one else to take care of the shop if you leave, I know, I know,” Lyney interrupts with clear disdain. “But don’t you think I deserve a bit of compensation? Surely you recognize my efforts in being this bakery’s most loyal customer. Most purchases and most compliments to the prettiest owner.”
You roll your eyes, but you do give it a bit of thought. Lyney has been the reason why your humble little shop tucked in some hidden corner of Fontaine’s city has been gaining attention. You’ve definitely increased in customers ever since Lyney took it upon himself to come over every day with a Rainbow Rose and a dream (and Mora).
“If I attend to one, will you promise it’ll be the last?”
Lyney’s expression shifts instantly. He beams, leaning close enough until your noses are touching. You swear you can see the sparkles in his eyes. “I can’t promise anything if you enjoy it so much you keep coming back for more.”
“Don’t push it,” you say.
“I won’t, I won’t,” Lyney murmurs, his smile turning softer. “You’re not joking around, right? That’s a yes?”
“It’s a yes, I guess.”
He kisses your hand three times, saying, “I’ll make it the best night of your life, I promise,” between them.
You look forward to it. You wouldn’t tell it to his face, but if he were to look closer and see the tremble of your hands to the smile on your face, he’d know anyway.
Lyney doesn’t come over the next day.
You will yourself not to feel too disappointed. You have no right to be. Every time he does visit, he’d just invite you to one of his shows under the guise of ordering whatever you tell him is the best seller of the day, and every time, you’d reject his offer. Yesterday was an exception—on a whim.
Maybe he got a revelation, thinking that he'll find it boring when he finally got you in his grasp.
It certainly doesn’t help that Lyney still hasn't come to visit the day after that, which happened to be the same day of the performance.
They canceled the show, you hear them say, from outside on the streets and even in the walls of your bakery. What a shame; I was looking forward to it.
So was I, you want to say through gritted teeth.
You knew their fame knew no bounds, but it was only then that embarrassment crept in when you realized that the show star, Lyney himself, frequented your small shop with a bouquet in hand to invite you personally. And you had the gall to reject him.
You also learn that the bakery feels much more empty without his blazing presence.
The moment you finish watching the customer exit the shop with two paper bags in their arms, you rush to fling your apron off and flip the sign to ‘CLOSED’.
You don’t often leave the bakery in fear of missing out on what could be busy days, but this is more important than that. You can’t handle working idly for another hour with guilt in your stomach urging you to do something.
You must look like a sight: speeding through the pathway with a bit of flour on your clothes and a determined glint in your eyes. Only when you spot a familiar house overhead do you pause to take a deep breath.
You can do this. You need to find out what happened.
“He got sick?”
Lynette nods, sighing in defeat. “Would you like to come in? I’ll explain as I make tea.”
You glance around unsurely, feeling a little out of place. You occasionally break the heart of the brother of this woman currently inviting you inside their home. You can only hope that Lyney hasn’t been lamenting his bakery troubles to his sister.
Lynette directs you to the loveseat of their small living room before padding over to the kitchen. “Make yourself comfortable,” she says in her endearing ever-monotone voice.
“I’m okay, thank… you…” Your gaze catches on a picture frame on the desk beside the seat of Lyney, Lynette, and what you can only assume from stories he’s shared is Freminet. Lynette is far from the camera, staring into the distance and sipping tea. Freminet is smiling awkwardly with no teeth, and the one eye he has visible isn’t even staring at the camera. Then Lyney sits in the middle, holding the camera with two arms and a wide grin, eyes screwed shut and his face so open.
You feel as if you’ve just caught a glimpse of something so personal, and the thought of that twists your heart and pushes it to beat twice as fast as normal. You’ve never seen him smile like that before. (You briefly wonder what it would be like to see it happen personally.)
“I’ve never seen him get this high of a fever before,” Lynette says, rousing you from your trance. She hands you a cup of tea, steam emanating from the cup.
“How did he even get sick?”
“I’m not sure… It could be because of the thunderstorm yesterday—he was out at that time and came home like that. He seemed really excited for tonight, too. Lyney kept telling me that this one would be special.”
“Because you will be coming to watch, of course.”
You nearly choke in your first sip because of your own thoughts.
Lynette looks back up at you over the rim of her cup. “With the stress of not being able to perform tormenting him, I assume he wouldn’t be getting better in time for the show. Or at least, not tonight at all.”
“Ah,” you voice lamely. You can’t even imagine the look of pure distress on Lyney’s sweet face—it hurts to even think about it. He’s done so much for you and even promised a whole show, only to fall sick before he could make it come true.
Will he think he’s at fault for this?
With your fingernails digging crescents on your palms, you quietly ask, “…Can I come visit him? Or would that be too much?”
Lynette’s gaze sharpens a little. “Has my brother told you the truth of our identities?”
“Most of everyone found out after the trial,” you answer without missing a beat.
“And still, you choose to care for Lyney?”
Is this a shovel talk? Are you experiencing a shovel talk right now?
“He makes it hard not to,” you say weakly; it’s the truth. You’re here because Lyney, throughout his little visits, has made you care so deeply for him that you started to look forward to each visit. “…Is that a no? Was that too much of a request?”
Lynette has a ghost of a smile on her face. “It’s perfect.”
The room is silent as you enter. You feel shame for visiting someone’s room without them knowing, even though you’ve been given complete permission by his own sister. Still, your face burns the closer you reach Lyney’s bed.
“Hey, Lyney,” you murmur as you kneel beside the bed. “I brought some of your favorites.”
He doesn’t respond, much to no one’s surprise. You wonder why you feel so disappointed that those lilac eyes aren’t looking at you, begging you, wooing you. Defeated, you place the bag of macarons on his bedside table, mostly an excuse to inspect his face closer.
His brows are furrowed, and a thin layer of sweat is on his forehead, even in his sleep. He looks nicer in casual clothes and his hair free from products.
A bowl of water is near his head, with a towel sitting in the bottom.
“You get really sick when you get it, huh?” you muse to no one in particular, gently wiping the sweat off his forehead. Then to his neck, where the warmth of his fever nearly burns you just by hovering close.
Lyney shifts a little. You pause with bated breath. Still, he doesn’t wake up.
“I’ll be right back,” you whisper, taking the bowl in your hands.
His nose is really red. You shouldn’t be finding it cute—really, what’s wrong with you recently?
But your movement brushed against the blanket over his torso and, with it, came revealing the side of his waist. His stomach is wrapped with bandages, and a spot of dried blood is seeping in on the bandage on his side.
Your eyes widen in horror, nearly making a loud, indecipherable noise before you catch yourself.
You rush to the door, finding Lynette in the same spot of the loveseat where you left her. Her eyes flick up to you, brows arched in surprise.
“Lynette, he—”
She catches on quickly. “He’s alright,” Lynette says, though her ears are curled back in distress. “He’s been given help. We knew of someone affiliated with Hydro and its healing properties. He’s alright.”
Well. Of course, she knew; she’s his sister. You can’t bear the thought of Lyney in the middle of a thunderstorm, finding himself in front of Lynette, bleeding. You feel sick just thinking about it. You can’t possibly imagine what Lynette has been going through, having to take care of her brother by herself.
You hesitate. “Can I come back here tomorrow?”
“Yes.”
“Oh. Wait—really?”
Lynette pauses. “Should I have not said yes?”
“I just thought you’d be a little more stern with me because of… you know…”
“I respect those who put my brother in his place,” Lynette says, then: “And those who don’t run from us when they find out what our identities are,” and that’s that.
“You brought a flower,” is the first thing Lynette says as soon as she opens the door the following morning.
“He gives me one every visit,” you explain, and you’re not quite sure why it’s humiliating to do so. “So, I want to pay him back at least this once.”
“Rainbow Rose,” Lynette notes as she shuts the door softly. You follow her into Lyney’s room, but she halts before you two can reach the door at arm’s length. “Do you know what this one means?”
You look at the Rainbow Rose nestled in your palm. It's been well taken care of since he gave it to you—all of them had been. “No, I can’t say that I do…?”
“He’s given everyone else Lumidouce Bells because this flower is a little more special.”
Lynette reaches for your hand, gently pushing the Rainbow Rose until you’re holding it against your chest.
She looks into your eyes. “That flower is like him giving his heart to you. Please, take care of it some more. Don’t give it back, okay?”
And as you mull over her words, she leaves. And left you standing in front of Lyney’s room alone, with your entire face feeling as if it’s been burnt by the sun.
But this is no time for distractions, no matter the implications. Lyney still hasn’t woken up yet, and it’s time to pay him back. He deserves that much.
“You finally feel better?”
Lyney blinks. Or, at least, he tries to, but his eyes weigh heavier than usual. He lays back down and chooses to close them back again. “Ugh…” he rasps out, “Lynette. My side is still hurting a little, but it’s much more bearable than yesterday. I thought I was about to die!”
“Don’t be so dramatic,” Lynette says, handing him a glass of water. “You already caused quite a scene.”
“Hmmm?” Lyney answers absentmindedly, finding himself ready to fall asleep again.
“You didn’t get injured yesterday. That was five days ago. And the bakery shop owner kept coming over every day.”
Lyney’s eyes definitely open at that. “What did you say?”
Lynette’s tail flicks. “The bakery has been closed for about four days now, and no one else but I know that it’s because the person responsible for it has been here in this room instead, taking care of you. It was even on The Steambird.”
Lyney’s finding it difficult to catch up. “Wait… wait. Are you saying…”
“You made Y/N, Freminet, and I worry so much, you know,” she chides.
Lyney’s heart shatters. “Does that mean—my wound—”
“I wasn’t the one changing your bandages,” Lynette says with a tiny smile as she watches her brother’s face explode in red. “Do you still feel tired?”
“Not at all!” Lyney springs up from his bed, his grin wild and insane. His side will most definitely punish him for this, but that’s far in the back of his mind. “Ah, so Y/N does care. All my efforts weren’t in vain!”
Lynette sighs, but still stays to listen.
“And—bandaging my wounds? While I was out cold? How intimate… My heart is racing at the thought of it.” He clutches his chest, because it’s true despite his dramatics.
“I’ve never seen Y/N before; I’ve only heard of what you told me every time you came back from the bakery,” Lynette starts, urging him to lie back down. She presses a towel on his forehead, and he yelps because it feels ice-cold. “But you seem wrong about every assumption, Lyney. I know the face of someone who cares.”
Lyney falters, his expression softening impossibly. “Y/N’s not mad I missed out on the show I promised…?”
“Y/N was worried about the same thing, but in your shoes.”
Lyney hides his face with his hands, but that’s a fruitless attempt. Lynette has a clear view of his red ears. “I can’t tell if I’m elated or mortified,” he groans. “Both, perhaps?”
“You’ll find out soon enough,” Lynette says, getting up at the same time the door swings open.
“I’m sorry I’m late!” you exclaim, though hushedly. “Lynette, I brought food to eat. Here, help yourself. Has Lyney woken up yet?���
“Oh, he…” Lynette takes your handmade lunch and glances down at her brother, briefly surprised to see him with his eyes shut and his breathing as steady as it had been when he was sleeping. “Excuse me, I want to eat.”
“Wait, Lynette—” you start, but Lynette is already walking away and eventually shuts the door. She must be very excited to eat her food.
You turn to Lyney, and the world falls silent. Lyney doesn’t know why he’s terrified of you finding out he’s awake. Was it guilt? Shame for a promised night in ruin, or humiliation for seeing him at his lowest point? He grips the sheet under the blanket tighter. His heart racing seems like it’s neither of those.
“Hello again, Lyney,” you say in a low whisper, and all of a sudden, his grip loosens, and his shoulders lose tension. “You should wake up soon. I promised Lynette I’d bake your favorite dessert if you do.”
You're not expecting any reply, ceremoniously reaching for the towel on his bedside table, like you’ve lived here as much as he has been.
The steady beat of your heart calms him, and he wonders how you aren’t hearing how fast his is beating yet.
Lyney finds himself enjoying being under your tender care, until the warmth on his side disappears and he panics instantly. His eyes fly open just in time for him to see you leaning in to press a gentle kiss on his cheek.
Lyney slips, instinctively reaching out to hold your head in place.
You both freeze, staring at each other wide-eyed.
His thoughts race. Four days. You’ve closed the bakery shop you swore to him you wouldn’t ever abandon just for anyone—yet you did for him. You’ve been taking care of him. And kissing his cheek, for god’s sake. Four days you’ve been caring for him so sweetly, and he wasn’t awake enough to experience all of it himself.
“You’re—you’re awake!” you exclaim, your hands on both of his cheeks. “Lyney, oh, you’re— Wait, how long have you been—”
Lyney silences you with a kiss on the side of your mouth. He smiles at your dumbfounded expression. “You shouldn’t promise my dessert,” he says, and he winces when his voice doesn’t come out as smoothly as intended. “I don’t want any more promises to break.”
“You didn’t break any promise, Lyney,” you say softly, and he blinks when your eyes glisten. “You’re awake right now, aren’t you?”
“Then,” he straightens to sit up, grinning, “let me make it up to you. I promised you a night you would never forget, didn’t I?”
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A/N not another lyney fic...
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clockwayswrites · 6 months
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City Pigeons Bleed Green Part 6
WC:1288 Masterpost CW: Self-esteem issues, past abuse, past experimentation, past starvation
“Hey Kid,” Jason said after he knocked on the door. It may have been left open a crack for safety reasons, but Jason still wanted to give the kid as much privacy as they could with all this.
The kid looked up at him from the bed with wide, startled eyes.
Right.
“I’m the one with the helmet.”
“I, yeah, same outfit,” the kid mumbled but didn’t look any less wide eyed.
Jason held back a sigh “Can I come in?”
“Sure, yeah,” the kid said as he forced himself to sit up against the wall with shaky arms.
Jason took the seat that Tim had used and kept a careful distance between them, even as he leaned forward and clasped his hands. “I want you to be honest with me, Kid, because you feeling safe here is the most important thing. I’ve made some soup and I’d like you to eat it and some bread, but if you don’t feel comfortable eating something I made we can do am MRE instead. That way you can know it’s still sealed.”
“No. I mean, no to the MRE. Soup sounds…” the kid had to stop and swallow. “That sounds really good.”
“Okay, Kid,” Jason said with as gentle of a voice as he could manage right then. “It’s only going to be a small portion to start, just to give your body time to adjust, but you keep it down and are still hungry there will be more. Whenever you’re hungry there will be food, I promise, and you don’t have to do anything to earn or deserve it. You can just ask whoever is around. Hell, when you’re well enough to walk around you can get anything you want from the fridge or pantry, okay?”
The kid nodded slowly, but that wide eyed look was back. Jason was going to have to warn the others about making sure that the kid ate and knew that he had free access to the food. They should get some granola bars, chips, and bottled drinks for the kid’s room too, but only once they knew the kid wouldn’t gorge himself.
“And just to check, any allergies or restrictions? I made the soup vegan, just to be safe, but it’s got some corn starch as a thickener.”
The kid shook their head.
“Good. After you eat, if you feel up to it, it would be good for you to take a bath or shower. But if you can’t,” Jason gave a little shrug, “that’s fine too. It can be another time.”
The kid shook his head. “I want to. I mean, if I can, I want to. A shower sounds… really good.”
“Yeah, I bet it does. I’ll go get you that soup and a sports drink. I know it’s going to suck, but we’re going to want to track you staying hydrated so you’ll be drinking lots,” Jason warned to another answering nod. He closed the door most of the way behind him again as he left the bedroom.
“He was awake then?” Dick asked softly when Jason moved to fill up a bowl.
“Yeah. Hey, can you start a log? I want to track what the kid eats and drinks and when,” Jason said.
“What’s the starvation concern?” Dick asked with a little frown as he tapped on the tablet.
“Right now I’m worried about the kid not believe he can eat whenever he’s hungry, so we’ll have to keep asking. But we need to watch for gorging. Lots of small meals often right now.”
Dick nodded. “Okay. I’ll make the log and set a silent alarm for whoever’s with him every hour. Did you talk about moving safe houses?”
Jason shook his head as he place two bowls and a plate of buttered bread on a lap tray. “We’ll let him get fed and through the shower first, maybe even another nap.”
“We don’t want him to get too settled here,” Dick pointed out.
“But we also don’t want to spook him,” Jason countered.
Dick just sighed. “Fucking timing.”
Jason opened his mouth—
“And if you make a dick joke right now I will throw something at you, little wing, I am not kidding.”
Jason help his hands up in surrender for a moment before he picked up the tray and headed back to the bedroom. He knocked with his foot before he pushed the door open.
The kid had fixed the bed while Jason was out of the room. He even straightened up the mess of tools that Tim had left.
It made Jason’s stomach turn over.
“You didn’t have to clean up,” Jason said, hoping to let the kid know he didn’t have do work to stay. “Red leaves a mess wherever he goes.”
The words had the opposite effect and the kid ducked his head. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have touched.”
“Nah, it’s fine,” Jason soothed. He’d have to mention this to the others too. “It’s nice not to accidentally step on a screw or something, just that you didn’t have to. Can I set the tray on your lap?”
The kid nodded and scrambled to straighten back up. Jason was careful not to touch him as he set the tray down and made sure it was balanced.
“So I divided the veggies up differently. Which bowl do you want?”
The kid’s eyes darted between the two bowls and then up to Jason, as if trying to find the right answer.
“I don’t mind either,�� Jason added, casually as he could, and sat on the bed next to the kid. “I can get more if I want it. Hell, I probably will. Spoiler always says I’m a bottomless pit with how I eat.”
Slowly, the kid reached out to scoot the bowl more more potato chunks closer to him. He glanced up at Jason from under the messy white bangs. Jason just smiled and took the other bowl for himself. He blew on a spoonful of soup before starting to eat. A beat latter, the kid did the same.
Jason ate steadily, setting a rhythm for the kid to follow, and the kid was mimicking him. It was almost like the other didn’t even know how to eat any more. For a moment, Jason had to close his eyes and breathe. The Pit Rage wasn’t what it used to be, but there was a still an anger that could burn inside him and when it did, it burned so fiercely hot. Right then, it wanted to burn whoever did this to the kid to ashes. Jason didn’t much want to stop it, but he wouldn’t risk scaring the kid for vengeance.
Not when this was his new little brother.
(He wasn’t going to mess up this time, not again.)
The sound of the spoon scraping softly against the bowl next to him trailed off. Jason kept eating, focused on his own bowl, so not to call note to it. He’d like the kid to eat a little more, but he wouldn’t push it. He’d push so little with this kid, not outside of keeping him safe.
When the barely there weight settled against Jason’s side, he froze.
Slowly he turned his head as little as possible.
The kid was tipped over, head pillowed against Jason’s arm, sound asleep.
Jason reached up with his other hand and tapped his comm twice. Dick was at the door in a flash, silent despite having obviously run. The alert bled out of Dick as he took in the sight and his face split into a grin. Silently laughing, Dick raised the tablet still in his hands and started taking photos.
Jason flicked him off for the next shot.
Damn brothers.
---
AN: Another mostly soft Trauma Tuesday! But my is poor Danny messed up... at least he has his big brothers looking after him! (Even he doesn't know that part yet.)
I no longer tag, but you can subscribe here!
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itaipava · 6 months
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— how f1 boys would act when crushing on someone.
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˒ ⌕ LANDO NORRIS
tries to become your best-friend. and makes sure everyone knows you two are close. actually plays it cool but secretly thinks of you 24/7. tries to deny his feelings and puts himself in the friend-zone so that it hurts less when and if you do. sometimes, his eyes subconsciously drop to your lips when talking to you. always invites you to hang-outs with his friends and unintentionally ends up ignoring or forgetting everyone else and mostly just talks to you or sticks with you. always tries to match your pace when walking together.
˒ ⌕ DANIEL RICCIARDO
casually flirts with you a lot but does so in a joking or playful manner. slow to realize his feelings but doesn’t bother hiding it once he does. goes out of his way to spend time with you and talk to you. so many little touches like slight brushes of the fingertips, a light rub of shoulders, or a game of footsie under the table. is endearingly protective over you and defends you a lot. asks you to text or call him when you get home, or often offers to walk you home himself. unknowingly smiles so big while texting you and lowkey gets embarrassed when someone points it out or when he notices his own reflection in his phone screen.
˒ ⌕ CARLOS SAINZ
looks at you like you must be protected at all costs, but also admires you and thinks highly of you. notices your little quirks and habits, and finds them cute. wants your opinion on things because he cares about what you think. wants to be updated about your life and keeps you updated about his. lots of eye contact. soft yet deep and intense gazes. unintentionally becoming more goofy and energetic around you. smiling uncontrollably when someone mentions your name or when he gets teased about his crush on you. always picking you first for his team when playing games with friends.
˒ ⌕ CHARLES LECLERC
is actually timid about liking you, and tries to teat you like just another friend because he doesn’t want to be too obvious. does subtle things like tagging you in funny posts, or remembering your favorite cake flavor and buying you one on your birthday. throws surprise parties or celebrations for you — your birthday? surprise! you just finished your exams? surprise, again! sends you memes and tiktok videos at 3 a.m. his words are neutral but his body language shows his feelings; can’t look at you directly without getting slightly flustered, especially when you’re in public or when surrounded by friends. sometimes becomes tongue-tied in the most adorable way when talking to you.
˒ ⌕ LEWIS HAMILTON
becomes more talkative and tends to ask a lot of questions about you. he tries not to overdo it but he’s just genuinely curious and interested. tries to find excuses to hold your hand; subtly grasping your hand just a little longer after a high-five or asks for your hand so that he can “read your palm” or compares hand sizes for the hundredth time. lingering gazes and touches when you’re around people. always buys you little snacks that you like. if you just casually makes a comment about how a certain color looks great on him, he remembers that and wears that color even more around you.
˒ ⌕ OSCAR PIASTRI
more smiley around you but is also generally chill. always tries to initiate conversations with you and keeps it flowing. he’s slow to realize his feelings, so his friends are more likely to notice it first. loves to tease you and loves it even more when you tease back. the type that probably won’t look away when you make contact but also gets flustered and a little annoyed when someone interrupts the moment. initiates hang-outs with just the two of you and likes to take you to his favorite spots, but claims that it’s not a date unless you want it to be.
˒ ⌕ MAX VERSTAPPEN
enjoys teasing you, but in a good-natured way; pinches your cheeks and ruffles your hair; steals the last piece of chips from you, only to buy you a whole new bag afterwards. showers you with compliments and also likes to help you with things — basically becomes your cheerleader and personal assistant. his voice or tone changes when talking to you, like he might be mad at someone and talking to them in an angry tone but as soon as he turns to speak to you, his voice becomes softer and sweeter. stalks your social media because you’re so beautiful and he can’t get enough of you. and he always comments on your posts, even if it’s a provocative comment, but he’s always there.
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thetriumphantpanda · 7 months
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she a bad lil bitch, she a rebel | joel miller
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Summary | Joel has to teach you a damn lesson, just like always.
Pairing | Brat Tamer!Joel x F!Reader
Word Count | 4K
Warnings | brat tamer!Joel, softdom!Joel, praise kink, implied age gap, spanking, use of rope restraints, hair-pulling, edging, orgasm denial, squirting, (1) singular pussy slap, unprotected PiV sex, rough sex, oral sex (M&F receiving), face-fucking, fingering, dirty talk, breath play, biting, cum play/cum eating, reader is a bratty menace, aftercare(!), no use of y/n.
Authors Note | All I'm going to say is this came to me in a dream and I had to get it down on paper. Mostly written on my phone with very little proofreading, so any mistakes are my own and I will live and die by them. This is basically just pure filth. Enjoy, and happy birthday to that old man. I love him but I would give him the hardest time, just like reader.
Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi
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If there was one thing that you lived for, it was pushing Joel Miller’s patience. The poor man had wandered into Jackson, little girl in tow, looking worn and weary almost a year ago, and from the moment you set eyes on him, you just knew you had to give this old man a run for his money. 
You’d started subtle, flirting with him on patrol, taking his distaste at your attempt to talk to him at every second as a personal challenge to break him, to work him down just enough to make your move. After a couple of weeks, he’s started talking, mainly in single word answers, but you’d managed to slowly chip him down. 
Then came the weekly drinks at The Tipsy Bison, everyone on patrol usually went, apart from those scheduled to be out that day, but he’d started laughing at your jokes and had even opted to sit next to you on occasion. Then one night, he’d walked you home, you’d had one too many glasses of whiskey, kissed him on the porch but agreed it wasn’t right to fuck right then, but he’d come back, that next night, both of you sober, and you’d kissed him again, and the rest really was history. 
It’s late afternoon when he comes through his front door, toeing his boots off as the door slams behind him. You’ve been led on his couch for most of the afternoon, reading a book you’d plucked from his shelf – some nonsense Western that did nothing to keep your attention, but was enough to keep you occupied whilst you waited for him to come home. 
“Afternoon,” You sing to him as he shrugs his jacket off, hanging it on the coat stand near the door, “Good patrol?” 
“Was fine,” He grumbles, just like he always does, he swats at your legs to get you to move them enough for him to sit down, “Scoot,” You lift them up just long enough for him to ease himself onto the couch, before you put them back down on his lap, abandoning the book on the coffee table, “You sort the stuff in the kitchen like I asked?” 
“No.” You say simply, shaking your head, subtly digging the heel of your foot into the front of his jeans. 
His big palm circles your ankle, gripping in warning, “What about the sheets, you wash ‘em?”
“Did you see them pegged out when you came home?” You ask, sweetly, using your other foot now to dig into his jeans. 
“Will you fuckin’ quit it?” He seethes a little, other hand gripping your other ankle to still you, “What have you done all day, huh?” He implores, “I don’t keep ya around to lounge about lookin’ pretty.” 
You chuckle, “That’s exactly why you keep me around, old man.” 
“Shut up,” He squeezes at your ankles, “I asked you a question, you gonna answer me?” 
You shrug, “Woke up late,” You hold up one finger, “Felt horny so I got myself off,” Another finger, “Had a shower, used the last of that nice soap,” Another finger, “Made lunch,” Another finger, “And then led here reading one of your stupid books until you came home.” A final finger raised so you’re holding up and entire hand, palm facing towards him. 
You’re looking at him, all scowling face and dark eyes as his fingers wrap even tighter around your ankles. If you didn’t know him like you did, you’d be frightened, but you know he’s just thinking about the best way to deal with you. You wonder which of his lessons he’s going to bring out today as the look he’s giving you shoots straight down to your core. 
“I ask you to do two things,” He sighs, like he’s tired, “I ain’t exactly expectin’ slave labour from you, and you sit here and treat it like the Hilton?” 
“What’s the Hilton?” You ask, genuinely curious, thinking it must have been something from the times before all this, the times you were too young to remember. 
“Forget it.” He growls, and you think any minute now he’s gonna move to drag you off and show you just how bad you’ve been, but he doesn’t move, just sits with your ankles clasped in his hands, staring at the wall in front of him. 
“I’ve been so bad Joel,” You goad, trying to wriggle your ankles free, “Aren’t you going to teach me a lesson?” 
“No,” He spits, “I ain’t, because you like it too damn much, ain’t teachin’ you anythin’ because you never learn.” 
You pout a little, looking up at him through your eyelashes, “Promise to listen real hard this time Joel,” You promise, “Try and learn and much as possible.” 
“No,” He speaks, stern tone, with a warning squeeze to your ankles again, “Been a long day, don’t have the energy to bring you into line.” 
“Ah, I see,” You muse, “You’re feeling too old today.” 
“What did you just say t’me?” He’s incredulous now, good, you’ve got him just where you want him. 
“Oh, nothing,” You giggle, “Don’t worry.” 
It seems to do the trick though, because he’s pushing himself up from the couch, gripping at your wrist now to pull you up as well. He pushes you gently by the small of your back to get you to walk in front of him, “Upstairs.” Is the only instruction he gives, along with a playful swat to your bottom as you start up the stairs. 
He’s crowding behind you, always following just one step behind as you make your way to his bedroom, suddenly aware that you didn’t make the bed when you rolled out of this morning. That’s surely another black mark to your name, you think, as he sits down on the edge of the bed. 
“Get undressed.” 
This is new, normally Joel liked to be the one to unwrap you, but you start working on the buttons of your shirt, undoing it and dropping it to the floor, followed closely behind by your jeans, leaving you standing in front of him in your underwear, “All of it.” He demands. 
Your hands shakily reach behind you to unclasp your bra, dragging it from your body to land with the rest of your clothes. You drag your panties down your legs and step out of them, wrapping your arms across your chest to try and cover yourself a little. Joel reaches out a hand to you, which you take timidly, expecting him to pull you into him so he could put his mouth on you, anywhere, but instead, you find yourself pulled to him and folded over his lap so quickly you let out a surprised yelp. 
“So fuckin’ naughty, all the damn time baby,” He speaks softly, running his fingers down the length of your spine, “Don’t ever think you’ll learn how to be good.” 
His hand trails down to your bare ass, gripping the skin with his hands, using his other arm to press you down into his lap, rough material of his jeans rubbing against the sensitive peaks of your tits and the soft skin of your tummy. He rubs his rough palm over the globes of your ass, anticipation building in your body. Then, he pulls away, bringing his palm down onto your ass with a satisfying ‘smack’ ringing through the air. It takes a while for your brain to catch up with what’s just happened, but then the stinging sensation settles across your skin and has you wriggling to get away. 
“Keep still,” Joel chastises, free hand digging further into the small of your back to keep you from moving, “That’s one, how many do you think you deserve baby?” He muses, “Fifty?” 
“W-what?!” You exclaim, “N-no Joel, that’s too much.” 
“Forty then?” His palm is cradling at the skin he’s just spanked. 
“T-ten?” You offer feebly. 
“Oh baby girl,” He tuts at you, “Aim higher.” 
“Fifteen?” 
“How about we settle for twenty, baby?” He asks, all soft and sweet, “Twenty seems reasonable to me.” 
He doesn’t give you time to agree, it would seem the bargaining time is over, as he brings his palm back down onto your ass, harder than before, but in the same exact place. It jolts you on his lap, makes you cry out. The front of your body dragging against his denim. 
“How many?” He asks, rubbing his hand over the skin he’s just spanked. 
“Two.” You reply quietly, trying to keep the whimper you want to let out to yourself. 
“Good girl,” He praises, raising his hand again, “Keep count for me, okay?” 
Smack.
“Three!” You shriek, as his palm yet again connects with that same patch of skin. 
Smack.
“F-four.” 
Smack.
“Oh fuck,” You groan, trying to wriggle away unsuccessfully, it’s already too much, “Five!”
Smack.
This one doesn’t hurt as much; Joel’s shifted the assault of his palm onto the virgin side of your ass for you. You suck in a deep breath, try and blink away the tears that have formed in your eyes, as his hand massages where it’s just struck. He gives you another four on that cheek, and then switches back to the original, bringing his palm back down onto the skin that you’re sure is reddening by now. 
“Joel!” You cry out, tears dropping from your eyes now, but your body betrays you and arches your back for him, pushing your ass up like you’re asking for it, “E-eleven.” 
It carries on like that, five spanks to each cheek until you’re practically sobbing over his lap. You count the twentieth spank and a feeling of relief washes over you as he bends over you to press a light kiss to the sore skin he’s left. It makes you hiss, the contact, no matter how gentle he is with it. Then, he’s shifting you off his lap and onto the bed, letting you scurry away to the top of the mattress as he stands. 
The stinging of the skin of your ass is still making you sniffle as Joel shuffles to the bedside table, digging around in it. You’re not quite sure what he’s looking for, focusing mainly on trying to keep the red raw skin of your ass off the sheets, when he stands, throwing what he was looking for onto the sheets next to you. You turn your head and see the length of rope that he keeps in his drawer just for moments like this. 
“Arms up.” He short with you, sitting on his knees next to you. 
You do as you’re told, raising your arms above your head, still pushing your ass off the bed, but knowing soon enough you’ll be focused on something else that isn’t the stinging sensation of your ass. He takes your wrists and binds them together deftly, like it’s a walk in the park for him, like it’s something he does all the time. Then, once he’s sure your wrists are safely encased in rope, he takes the other end and ties it to his bed frame. He tugs slightly to make sure the way he’ll have you thrashing soon means that you won’t be able to pull yourself free. 
“That okay?” He asks gruffly, to which you nod, “Words, baby.” 
“Y-yes,” You stammer, “It’s okay.” 
“Remember your word?” He asks, stepping off the bed to partially undress, shucking his jeans and flannel off, but keeping his t-shirt and boxers on. 
“I remember.” 
He hums in approval, settling himself on the bed between your thighs, using wide palms to spread you open for him. You’re absolutely soaked, pussy dripping with slick from his palms and the way he’s trussed you up to his bed. 
Joel lets out a low whistle, letting his thumb rub up the length of your folds, “See,” He murmurs, using his thumb to gently spread the lips of your pussy to reveal your clit, already swollen and begging for attention, “Told ya that ya liked being punished too much,” He lets his thumb make a single swipe over that bundle of nerves, chuckling as you cry out, hips bucking to try and follow his finger, “She’s already fuckin’ soaked for me, baby.” 
You let out a high-pitched mewl, a begging sound that you hope tells him that you need him to touch you, you need to feel the pleasure you know he’s capable of after the pain he’s just inflicted. Mercifully he obliges, pressing the calloused pad of his thumb back to your clit, slick gathered there from before, as he starts rubbing in fast, precise circles. You’ve been so worked up that you can already feel the coil tightening in your tummy, and you know Joel can sense it as well, the way your hips are moving in time to his movements and the way you’re arching your back off the bed are a dead giveaway. 
You can feel yourself reaching that peak, so fucking close to tipping over the edge when he tears his hand away from your core and sits back, watching as you try and move back towards him, moaning in frustration at being left high and dry. You’re wriggling about, trying to close your thighs to rub them together to get yourself off, when he pushes a wide palm into your belly. He’s so powerful in the best way, stilling your movements immediately as you look up at him, face serious. 
“Remind me what the second thing on your list was this mornin’, baby?” He asks, voice as innocent as pie. 
You’re wracking your brain, lust making you more confused about what the fuck he’s even talking about. Then it dawns on you, what you’d told him downstairs. Felt horny so I got myself off. 
“You’ve got a big brain baby,” He coos, one palm squeezing your thigh, “I know you remember, so go on, tell me what you did.” 
“I g-got myself off.” 
“And is that what good girls do?” He asks, hand ghosting back to your pussy, knuckles of his hand brushing over your skin there. 
“N-no?” You question. 
“That’s right,” He hums, fingers slipping between your folds once more to gather some of the insane amount of slick that’s pooling at your aching entrance, “And besides, gettin’ to come is a reward, and I ain’t sure you deserve that right now.” 
His thumb is back on your clit now, moving in exactly the same way as before, with just the right amount of pressure to be building you back up. It feels so fucking good already and you know the way it feels when he tips you over the edge, you know how delicious it is and God, you want it so bad. 
“Please Joel,” You beg, all throaty and lust-filled, “I’ll be so good, I promise.” 
“Maybe ya should’a thought about that earlier,” He growls, “Before you came without me, thought you could do it better than me, huh?” 
“No!” You exclaim, because that’s definitely not true, you could never make yourself feel the way he does, “Oh God, please Joel.” You’re so fucking close, just a few more passes of his thumb and you could do it, you know you could, but so does he, which is why he’s tearing his thumb away from you again. 
You actually cry now, tears of frustration building in the corner of your eyes, threatening to spill over as you thrash around on the bed, hissing when the rope around your wrist digs in but not caring all that much. 
“Quit your cryin’.” He chastises, hand on your hip to keep you still. 
You whimper, lip wobbling, trying to keep your cool. All you want is to reach out to him. You think if you could touch him, he would give you what you want, so you’re pretty sure that’s why he’s got you tied to the damn bed, to keep himself in check, to see this through, because Joel Miller always folds to you when you put your hands on him, weak man that he is. 
“You’re being so mean.” You cry out as he shifts, lying flat on his stomach so you can feel his breath on your aching pussy. 
“You were the one beggin’ to get punished baby,” And it smarts because it’s true, “I’m only givin’ you what you wanted.” 
He leans forward, tongue licking a stripe through your pussy, all the way up to your clit where he sucks the little bud into his mouth, rolls it between his lips and then lets it pop from his mouth like an ice-pop. He flicks it with the tip of his tongue a few times and you suck in a breath, your fingernails digging painfully into the palm of your hands as you focus on trying to reach the cliff edge and fall over it this time. 
You’re holding your breath, hips working in time with the movements of his mouth, eyes screwed shut just trying to focus on how good it feels. You can hear the rustling of sheets, which means if you were to open your eyes and look down at him, you’d find him grinding himself into the bedsheets for his own relief. He pulls off you, and you’re about to curse him out when he speaks. 
“You wanna come, baby?” He asks, punctuating it with a flick of his tongue. 
“Oh please Joel,” You beg, and even to your ears it sounds wrecked and pathetic, “Please let me come.” 
Then, you’re shrieking because the palm that has dealt so much damage to your ass this evening, has now swatted your aching cunt, “No.” He says simply, pushing himself back up and onto his knees. 
He pulls his t-shirt over his head, throwing it somewhere behind him. You’re squirming as he shucks off his boxers, moving awkwardly to kick them off, before he’s mounting your body, those strong thighs straddling your chest as his throbbing cock rests just millimetres from your mouth. He reaches down, let’s his fingers tangle in your hair as he pulls your head forward roughly. Your mouth, like muscle-memory takes over, opens, and the head of his cock slips over your tongue. You can already taste the salty beads of pre-cum as he shuffles forward a little, easing his cock into your mouth until it’s hitting the back of your throat. 
He holds your head steady with the fingers tangled in your hair as he fucks your throat. The sound is obscene, practically pornographic, the wet sounds that come as the head of his cock meets the back of your throat on every thrust. He pulls out of your mouth every now and then, when he’s thrust too hard and makes you gag on him, but fucking hell it’s turning you on so much. You can feel yourself literally dripping onto the sheets, you don’t think anything has ever made you this wet before. 
He pulls his cock out of your mouth one last time, a string of saliva connecting him to your mouth until he pulls away enough for it break, laying wet across your chin and down your neck. Joel shuffles back down your body and you think finally, you’re going to get some relief. 
He hooks your knees over his arms, pushing them forward to your chest as his throbbing cock slips through your folds. He rocks his hips a few times, the bulbous head of him swiping over your clit, before he unexpectedly buries himself into your soaked cunt in one go. 
You actually sob at the feeling. You’ve been so empty all night, and now you’re so full of him, so crowded by his body, that you finally feel some kind of relief. He’s still for a moment – once it would have been to get you used to the heft of him inside you, but right now, you know it’s because he’s just as fucked as you are, and he wants to make sure you’ve truly learnt your lesson. 
Once he’s collected himself, he sets a bruising pace. Cock dragging out of your slick heat and slamming back into you. He revels in the way your tits bounce with every thrust, so much so that he leans forward and bites at the flesh, sucking bruises into your skin as he pounds himself right into the very depth of you. 
“Doin’ so good for me baby,” He groans out against your skin, sucking your nipple into his mouth, letting it go with a wet pop as he pushes himself back up for me, “Takin’ your punishment so well.” 
The angle he’s got you folded into means the head of his cock is brushing against the spongy spot inside you every time. Your pussy is clenched so tightly around him that it’s a miracle he’s held on for this long. He finally brings his thumb back to your clit and you’re begging this time that he’ll let you finish, because if he doesn’t you’re pretty sure you might actually die. 
“Joel,” You mewl, “I’m g-gonna – holy shit – m’gonna come.” 
“Go on baby,” He finally relents, you let out a sob of relief, “Come on my cock for me, like a good girl.” 
It’s so overwhelming when it finally happens. Your vision blurs and blood rushes to your ears, blocking out any sound that isn’t the beating of your pulse. Your pussy clenches impossibly tight around him as pleasure finally floods through every inch of your body. You feel yourself literally gush on his cock, soaking his skin, your skin, the bedsheets beneath you. You think you might even scream his name as your body convulses and shakes, arches up into him. 
You’re slightly aware of him pulling his cock from inside you, letting your knees drop. You can hear the slap of his fist on his skin as he fists his cock, and then he’s growling out your name, his cum spattering over your tummy, lying hot and thick on your sticky skin. It’s silent for a good few moments, the only thing you can focus on is the sound of you both sucking in breath to your lungs and the burn of the rope around your wrists. 
“Look at me.” Joel demands, and you do, your eyes meeting his, which are almost black with lust, his face flushed, sweat pooling at his hairline. 
He drags a finger through the pools of his cum, bringing his fingers to your mouth. He presses them into the flat of your tongue, letting you swallow, which continues until you’ve cleaned every inch of him from your skin. He then works quickly to untie the knots that have you bound to the bed, freeing your skin from the burning feeling that’s settled there. 
“Stay still,” It’s still demanding, but it’s softer now, as he gets off the bed, dropping the rope to the floor, “I’ll be right back.” 
He comes back moments later with a glass of water and a cool cloth. He rolls you over onto your tummy, pressing the cool material to your ass, trying to soothe the red welts of his handprints that have already started to form. He presses soothing, open-mouth kisses to the skin before he rolls you back over onto your back. 
He moves you because you’re pliant now, to rest against the pillows, handing you the water to drink as he runs the last of the cooling cloth over your lower tummy and through the folds of your spent cunt, then it’s discarded to the floor with everything else, and you’re being pulled to his chest, kiss pressed to your forehead. 
“Too much?” He asks quietly, checking to make sure he hasn’t crossed some line with you. 
“Just perfect.” You reply, eye-lids heavy with sleep. 
He brings one of your wrists to his mouth, letting his tongue lick soothing stripes along the reddened skin there, kissing every now and then, but keeping you pressed tightly to his chest, you own arm draped around his waist.
“You learn your lesson?” He asks then. 
“Probably not,” You hum against the sweaty skin of his chest, “I don’t think you’re ever going to fuck the attitude outta me, Miller.” 
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lovebugism · 2 months
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I positively adore steeb and shy!reader 🥹 can I please request steve comforting shy!reader after her first experience with the upside down? he just vows to take care of her?
ty for requesting!! — steve takes care of you when you won't let anyone touch you after fighting vecna (shy!fem!r, hurt/comfort, friends in love, cw for mentions of bruises/injuries, 0.9k)
Hawkins Memorial Hospital smells overwhelmingly of bleach and very faintly of copper. You think the last bit might just be you, though. The scent of metallic blood and alternate-dimension muck hasn’t quite left you — even though you’ve scrubbed yourself raw in the shower, three times over.
You sit in Max’s vacant room while she’s out for surgery. Everyone else is either sleeping off the grief or getting themselves checked out. You can’t do either — too plagued by nightmares and too frightened at what the doctors might find if they look at you too close.
Steve finds you in the dim room, lit only by natural sunlight, standing in front of the small square mirror against the wall. You get lost in the splotchy bruises on your face until he knocks gently on the cracked open door. 
“Hey…” he greets, gently to keep from startling you.
You swallow down the fleeting panic. “Oh. Hi.”
“I, uh, I brought you some ice,” he tells you and steps further into the room, waving a plastic bag of chipped ice in his hand. “I saw you flinch when you wrapped up Dustin’s ankle. I figured your shoulder was bothering you…”
He’s visibly shy, but you’re impossibly shier. The deafening quiet and the proximity of your bodies are equally suffocating. You cower beneath the weight of it, wringing your clammy, cut-up hands together. “I’m— I’m fine. Thanks…”
Steve flashes you a wavering smile, lopsided and perfectly pink. He forces a laugh through an aching chest because you haven’t talked about what happened since you got back. He figured it was normal at first — that you were still grappling with the whole fighting monsters thing, but you haven’t let anyone touch you in days. The doctors have been begging to look you over since you got here.
“I just… I wanna help,” he confesses.
A pleading look swims in the deep honey of his eyes. It becomes impossible to turn him down. You’d have an easier time fighting Vecna, you think.
You swallow hard. “It’s… It’s my back,” you shrug, then grimace when the movement makes you ache.
You’d fallen through the decrepit floor of the Creel house and landed hard in the basement. The vines slithering there broke your fall. For the most part, anyway. The damn things would have swallowed you whole if Steve hadn’t been brave enough to jump in after you. 
“Can I see?” he wonders.
You hesitate for a moment. “I haven’t really— looked at it yet,” you murmur with a pained look twisting your features. You turn around when Steve approaches you. You feel his warm fingers along your back, knuckles skimming over your skin as he lifts your shirt with a slow and gentle touch — giving you ample time to stop him if you wanted.
When you don’t, he raises the fabric to the middle of your spine. The entire canvas of your back is darkened with a hardly healing bruise. The sight of it makes him grimace. “Jeez…” he mumbles before he means to.
Your brows pinch. “Is it bad?”
“We’re gonna need a lot more ice,” he answers with a forced laugh.
You giggle at his half-joke. The pretty sound makes him smile.
“You should probably see a doctor—”
“No,” you interject with a firm shake of your head, sterner than he’s ever seen you.
“But it’s— It’s kinda gnarly—”
“I’m fine,” you insist, despite the bruises darkening your skin. You turn back around to face him and avert your gaze at the pitiful look he gives you. You cross your arms over your chest and bite back a wince. “I’m okay, Steve. There’s other people to worry about right now.”
Max, for one. And all the rest of the kids for another. And the rest of the town who lost something in the earthquakes. You got off pretty lucky, all things considered — just a couple of bruises. And a cut or two. And some pretty gnarly nightmares. But that’s it.
Steve’s lip quirks in a sympathetic smile. “Here. C’mon. Sit down.”
He urges you to the made-up hospital bed with a hand hovering over your lower back. Your perch on the side of it, one leg curled beneath you, as Steve slides in behind you. He raises the hem of your shirt and presses the icepack against your shoulder blade, where the bruises seem darkest. His touch is gentle and feather-light, almost comically so. The bag of ice just barely grazes you.
“Is this okay?” he asks.
You nod. “Yeah… Thanks.”
His hand grows heavier when his touch becomes more confident. The stinging of the cold soothes the deep ache in your shoulder.
“No problem,” he says before swallowing down the nerves crawling up his throat. “I’m always here, you know? If you ever need anything.”
You exhale a sharp laugh through your nose. “I feel like you have better things to do than take care of me,” you murmur, wringing your hands into a knot in your lap.
“Well, I don’t.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
“What?” he scoffs. “That I’d rather dote on you than do anything else?”
“Yeah,” you laugh and shoot him a playful look over your shoulder. You smile when you find him already grinning at you.
“Well, believe it, alright? ‘Cause you’re stuck with me now.”
“Am I?”
“Yep,” he answers, popping the p.
“We fought monsters together, and now we’re bonded for life?”
“Exactly.”
You flash him another glance, eyes glittering as you bite back a beaming grin. “Sounds miserable,” you tease.
Steve nods with a crooked smile. “Absolutely horrible.” 
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emmyrosee · 1 year
Text
“How come you get to ride in the cart?” He says, a pout in his voice but a smirk curling at his lips. Your hip cocks up as your arms cross over your chest, more than willing to duke this out with him in the entrance of the store.
“Uh, because I’m adorable?” Your words only make his grin spread even more, he knows he’s supposed to make an argument against that but he can’t bring himself to; it’s true, you’re perfect in every trace of the word.
But who was he to go down without a fight?
“But baaaaabe,” he whines further, folding his torso into the cart. “I’m so sore from practice and ‘Samu hit me with the ball and I’ve been walking funny since, and I just want my perfect, stunning, and oh, so smart-“
“Oh my god, fine, just get in the cart!” You snort, the giggles bubbling from your lips. He merely grins victoriously before scrambling himself up and into the cart, other shoppers watching in annoyance and amusement as you watch his knees fold up to his chest.
“Comfy?” You snort, to which he nods over enthusiastically. You roll your eyes before folding yourself over the front of the cart to plant a kiss on his head.
“What do you even need, anyways?” He hums, his head turning back and forth in the superstore, sharp eyes glazing over the shelves. You lean on the handles of the cart, looking around and making a beeline straight to the snacks, giving him a dramatic sigh as you do so.
“Well,” you hum. “I know you wanted m&m’s and popcorn, but I also wanted to grab a few bags of Doritos and since the fuckface I decided to let spoon me at night ate the last of my cookies,” your eyes glare dead at him, only to be met with a wide, toothy grin. “I need to buy more.”
“The guy who spoons you at night sounds hot.”
“The guy who spoons me at night sounds like I’m going to smother him with a pillow.” With that, you two make your way to the snack aisle, your eyes glazing over the contents of the shelves hungrily. “You want any drinks or anything?”
“Nah, I’ll just take whatever you buy.”
You glare at him, “that’s kinda the reason we’re in here in the first place, you clown.”
He snorts at the nickname before hooking his chin over the side of the cart, his sharp eyes flicking over the colored bottles and cans. “Toss me a grape soda.”
“Grape?”
“Yeah.”
“Mid,” you scoff, grabbing him a can to put in the cart. He blinks unamused at you, but ultimately keeps his mouth shut while you make your choice.
“Oh, but my choice is mid,” he teases as you plop a can of lemon lime in his lap.
“This flavor has been worshipped all over the world- you just like the taste of cough medicine or something.”
“My mom only buys the bubblegum flavored cough medicine.”
“Feral.”
The little back and forth you share passes the time as you turn the cart to the chips and Candy, and without sparing a second, you grab the Doritos and toss them carelessly into the cart, smirking as you hear them crunch against his head and body.
“You know, I may annoy you, but I am still in the cart,” he says, shielding himself from another bag of chips that you swat in the cart. When he turns his head up to glare at you, he sees the goofy smile spread over your cheeks, and he’ll happily get beat up by your snacks if it meant he could see it forever.
It’s simple. It’s comfortable, annoying each other throughout the aisles and laughing when the other makes a stupid jab, but Rintaro knows that this is all he’s worked up for. A domesticity that had to be crafted carefully, and he’s honored that you decided to map it with your love.
It’s nothing all like he’d expected love to be like- and now, it’s love he’d never change for anything.
“Get your cookies and lets get the hell out of here.”
“Why? Afraid we’ll miss another episode that we’ve seen forty-eight thousand times?” You jeer, steering the cart to the back wall, where all the cookies are tucked away. He decides to say nothing, merely letting your own joke make you chuckle.
He says you're easy to sedate like that. Really, he does it because the way you get the last word makes you happy.
He watches your lips pull back into an almost relieved smile, grabbing the box of cookies and nodding happily, all before turning back to him in the cart.
“Now be careful,” you warn, clutching the sweet to your chest protectively. “Suna, I’m trusting you with the most precious cargo in the cart. Do not blow it.”
“God, no need to bring out the government name, just give me the damned cookies,” he scoffs, making grabby hands and rolling his eyes when you hesitate. “And for the record, I’m the most precious cargo in the cart. Don’t even start with me.”
“You’re like. Fifth, on the tier list.”
“I’m going to fart on your pillow. Give me the cookies.”
You do, with another small smirk. "You want anything else, baby?" You ask, though you proceed to the checkout.
"Nah, I think I'm good, booger."
You hum and steer him to the self checkout, letting you bag the snacks while he passes them to you, citing you both as the "dream team"- which briefly collapses when you refuse to take his card to pay for everything and chuckling as he scrambles for the wallet tucked in his back pocket.
"You're annoying," he grumbles at your lack of acceptance for his chivalry.
"And you're squishing my snacks- you trying to sleep on the couch?"
Regardless, you push him out of the store and into the night air, and even if he'd rather chew on glass than admit it, the way your face relaxes at the feeling of fresh air makes him melt, and he smiles dopily until you jerk the cart.
"Okay. Get out."
"Huh?"
For a moment, just a moment, it's possible that Suna Rintaro forgot he's in the cart.
"Get out. I'm not wheeling you home, babe."
He sends you a playful glare before using massive hands to grip the side of the cart for leverage. He tries to push back, but his legs can't extend much farther out.
At this point, you're just watching, one brow cocked in amusement and tongue licking the corner of your mouth victoriously. If you didn't look so hot, Rintaro would be furious.
“Babe?”
“What's up, player?"
There’s a silence between you both. You're the absolute worst in this situation by barely even acknowledging his struggle. his lanky frame, still in the wired shopping cart, looks so cramped, and maybe, just maybe, if one of the Gods loved him, they would smite him down from the face of the earth right now.
You smirk, “problems?"
"I'm gonna cheat on you with Kita-San."
"Like he'll he's gonna want you when you're stuck in a cart you begged to be in."
He gnaws at his lip in focus, trying to will his knees to unbuckle from their position and out of the cart.
But they refuse.
He whimpers in his throat while you point and finally cackle at him, loudly, rudely, being absolutely no help in this scenario, and he finally hides his face in his bent knees in embarrassment.
“I’m stuck in the cart.”
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asimpforyagami · 8 days
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🇨​​ 🇴 ​​🇳 ​​🇫​​ 🇪 ​​🇸​​ 🇸 ​​🇮 ​​🇴 ​​🇳​ !
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BSD MEN REACTING TO A CONFESSION.
↷ A/N ─ yes new divider again because im indecisive as heck
★ FT. ─ dazai , chuuya , ranpo , akutagawa , atsushi , fyodor
!! TAGS ─ mentions of suicide, insecurities, overall fluff
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"i love you."
ᴅᴀᴢᴀɪ.
promptly replies with, "i love you too."
he'll lean into you with an amused smile because he lowkey thinks you're joking
when he realizes you're serious about it he'll immediately stop the stupid grin
and look at you with this sincere look you've never seen on his face before
he'll hold your hand and everything while repeating "i love you too," for a second time, only this time he's serious about it too
definitely asks for double suicide later
"You know it's my motto to unalive myself with a beautiful woman. How lucky of you to have been bestowed upon this honour."
"Mhm."
"I'll say yes if you join me in a double suicide," he asks with puppy eyes.
"Dazai, you already said yes."
"I'll say it again!"
​ᴄʜᴜᴜʏᴀ.
he stops abruptly and half chokes on his expensive ass wine
poor boy is really confused 😭 because "where did that come from??"
he tries to play it cool but he's literally SCREAMING inside
we all know he's been betrayed a lot of times in the past so he feels hesitant about it
will decide to give it a shot tho
100% calls dazai to brag about it
"You may be taller or whatever (as if that matters in the first place) but were you the one able to steal her heart? Eh? I think not!"
You chuckle hearing him update his rival of his new relationship status.
"And anyway," he raises a glass of wine for toast. "I'd like to thank my good looks, good looks and did I mention my good looks (?) for making tonight the happiest night ever."
ʀᴀɴᴘᴏ.
"i know."
he has always observed every single thing about you - how you behave around others vs how you behave around him, the little times you look at him like you want his attention etc etc
he's known about this since like soooo long
he defo also knew when where and how you were gonna confess
went to yosano for tips to react to it and bought you chocolates and stuff. he thinks it'll make you happy :D
eats all of that himself even tho he originally bought it for you but you let it slide because he's a cutie patootie
"You could at least have been a bit subtle about it," he says, munching on his chips. "I mean, anyone who saw you would've been able to guess. I didn't even need my ability for this!"
He lifts his chin up thoughtfully, fingers ripping open another packet of snacks. "You should be grateful I'm not a snitch. Eh, well," he shrugs, "You're now dating the greatest detective in the world! Congratulations!"
ᴀᴋᴜᴛᴀɢᴀᴡᴀ.
"eh???"
like chuuya, he's pretty confused too
"are you sure?"
tries to keep a straight face and hide his fluster
he'll narrow his eyes at you as if he's trying to read your emotions. he doesn't wanna get hurt if he gets too attached to you and you two end up breaking up
also how tf is he supposed to believe that someone like YOU like someone like HIM?
reassure him that he's perfect please :( poor baby deserves the world
"I am a lot of work. I don't think you can keep up with all of that," he says shortly.
"I'll try my best."
"You don't have to."
"But I want to!"
He stares at you for a few moments, looking like he's about to cry.
"Oh, alright then," he waves a hand around. "But don't you ever leave me."
ᴀᴛꜱᴜꜱʜɪ.
screams
"SAY IT AGAIN PLEASE!"
jumps around everywhere in happiness
you dont even get a verbal answer the man's just dancing around
either that or he just faints
he's, like akutagawa, insecure about himself. but he's much more open to showing his emotions to you.
you end up cuddling the whole night or he calls off work to be with you for the rest of the day <3
"I..." he repeats the same word for the fifth time in a row.
"Yes?"
"Don't mind me, I'm just trying to come to terms with the fact that I get to date you."
"Is that a bad thing?"
"No, no!" he panics, wringing both hands all over himself hastily. "I love you! Really!"
ꜰʏᴏᴅᴏʀ.
no reaction. im sorry
spares a small glance at you but otherwise doesn't get distracted from his work
you think he's gone deaf from the way he just ignored you cuz what????
will spend like 15 minutes that way before extending an arm to you and you lowkey DONT KNOW WHAT TO DO??? HELP??
he'll stare at you for a few seconds before pulling you onto his lap and continuing with his work
and that's his way of saying yes
He shuts the computers around him down and taps your outer thigh twice. You immediately stand up and help him up. He stares at you for a few seconds, contemplating something.
"You know, I never thought I'd enable others to call me a lovesick fool."
"Does that mean you are a lovesick fool?"
"A little, maybe," he turns around and walks out of the door while you follow him with a soft smile on your face.
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waayfo · 16 days
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THE ULTIMATE GUIDE TO LOVE AVENTURINE !
✧ ◝ summary the important steps to love aventurine, 100% approved by aventurine. (or the things you do that he love)
✧ ◝ fluff / hurt/comfort / light angst / hsr spoilers (aventurine’s past) / mentions of aventurine’s real name (kakavasha) / reverse comfort / gn!reader / some personal hcs / trauma / lmk if i miss some !
Alright so, i noticed that Aven always hides his left hand, and when he puts his hands together to pray, he also uses his left hand. So i assumed that his left hand was verrryyyyy special to him.
While in the Dreamscape, he also said that he always hid one hand (left hand) under the gambling table, and that hand always gripped the chips as tightly as possible (based on his dialogue during the quest).
So imagine— you, who have a special place somewhere in his heart, always hold his left hand carefully, then caress it. He would go feral fr.
He would joke about it by saying, “if you keep doing that, i’m afraid that my left hand will always bring big luck.”
And every time he wakes up from the same nightmare that always haunts him, he will always look for warmth in you; wants you to hold his hand and then hear your voice that always manages to calm him down to call his name—or even his real name.
Aven is very happy when you let him do small things or simple tasks, such as combing, braiding your hair, or putting on the beautiful jewelry he gave you. And from just one glance, you know how expensive the jewelry is. And he will happily buy you new jewelry again and again.
Aven love the moment when he set foot back home. Because usually, he will see you wearing his shirt— which faintly smells of his fragrance, while you curled up in his king sized bed and asleep while you are waiting for him to come home.
And at that moment, he was ready with his phone to take a photo of you which he thought was adorable.
He love when you’re cooking breakfast for the two of you. Because he can easily surprised you by suddenly hug you from behind, then buried his head on the crook of your neck.
Also, he’s the big spoon! He will always cuddle with you while sleeping and it’s a must. He won't sleep until he makes sure that you are asleep first. Either because he's afraid you'll suddenly leave while he's asleep, or because he just wants to observe every part of you. And to hear your every breath so he knows you are still with him, and to see your face so he can fall in love with you again and again.
Aventurine groaned. He squirmed a little, seeking comfort in the nightmare he saw. As if he couldn't wake up from the nightmare, his eyes refused to open, making himself a little tormented by his past which is again approaching him through his dream.
The past replays itself like a film. A film that he is reluctant to watch again. But the film was played again without his permission.
‘… kakavasha.’ The name that almost everyone forgot was called after long time. Aventurine looked back, seeing a glimmer of light amidst the darkness.
When he squinted his eyes to clearly see the blurry object in the middle of the light, he saw a familiar figure that he had longed to see. She called out his real name once again in despair. ‘Kakavasha..’
But when she called his name one last time, Aventurine could glimpse a small smile on the figure's face. She’s smiling, my sister is smiling at me.
And once the light slowly disappeared, Aventurine woke up. Pulled back to the real world where he belongs. Feeling his head dizzy, Aventurine held his head. At the same time, he was trying to regain consciousness after waking up from a dream.
That's when he realized; tears that seemed to have been coming out of his eyes for a long time, and you were looking at him worriedly. Your one hand is holding his left hand—the hand he considers special. It all felt like a fever dream for Aventurine.
“Kakavasha?” Your voice called his name in worry. This time it's no longer the voice of the familiar figure or his sister, the one calling his name is now you— the person he loves and he treasured the most. Someone who has accompanied him, and always makes sure that he is okay. Someone who always waits for him to come home. It’s you.
Your other hand moved to wipe the tears that had fallen. Your warm hand touched the cold skin of Aventurine. One of the differences between the two of you.
“Don’t cry,” The voice tried to calm him down again. Countless time you’ve been calmed “Everything is okay now.”
Aventurine didn't know how to react. He just kept quiet.
Without thinking, you immediately hugged his body that had felt a lot of suffering. You hugged that fragile body. As he usually did, he returned the hug. His head was buried in your neck. He always manages to find warmth in you. “I’m here, Aven.”
How could he not love you again and again after everything you've done?
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imagine-shenanigans · 1 month
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i havent written anything in a hot minute but creepy neighbor johnny? anyone? shakes him like a bag of chips at you all
He lives in the same shitty building you're stuck in, with no in unit washer/dryer, and the only machines are available in the basement. They're ancient but they work, and they're just so much cheaper than a laundromat and you can barely drag yourself down into the basement when youre off of your night shift to wash your work uniform, let alone drag your carcass down to a laundromat outside of the safety of your locked building.
And usually despite being tired it works great! You can chuck down an instant meal while you sit in the laundry room after work, scrolling through your phone. You get all of the four washers/dryers free for yourself (though you never use all four, youre not crazy).
And whenever Johnny's home he's always jetlagged to fuck, and if he's alone he'll just do his laundry whenever he feels like it - which usually tends to be in the middle of the night, because if Mrs Johnson from down the hall grabs his bicep one more time he'll scream.
His obsession with you immediately snaps into place when he sees you sitting on top of the dryer, half asleep as you play on your phone. (Because like hell are you leaving your clothes unattended.) He tries to make small talk, making jokes or asking questions just to keep hearing your tired, slightly incoherent voice.
"Cold water," you yawn, rubbing at your face.
"What's tha' hen?"
"Blood," you clarify tiredly, leaning forward a bit to point at one of his shirts. "You wanna use cold water for blood. Not hot. The proteins in blood clump or something? I think? Anyway it'll set the stain."
Johnny blinks, and flicks the knob to cold instead of hot, a chuckle rumbling in his throat. He finishes loading the washer, and then moves to bracket his arms on either side of you, leaning in just a liiiitle too close and thanking you.
Plucks at your sleep shorts and runs the flimsy fabric between his thumb and forefinger.
Makes an off color joke about what a good little housewife/spouse/husband you'd be thats just a LITTLE too enthusiastic. Doesn't move back nearly far enough when the buzzer of the dryer finishing "saves" you. It makes it so you brush up against him when you clamber down and bend to get your clothes.
Watches you leave and memorizes what floor you set the elevator to. Ecstatic when he realizes you're on the same floor - nearly goes rabid when he hears your voice coming from the adjacent wall the next morning when your shower kicks on.
From them on he seems to ALWAYS be doing laundry when you are, like he's got a sixth fucking sense for it. He never does it where you can see, either but you SWEAR he's taking your underwear from the laundry basket on purpose. You just can't prove it because no matter how hard you stare or keep watch, or wait... he always, without fail, produces a pair of your skimpiest/most revealing/tightest pair of underwear from SOMEWHERE and chuckles that he found something of yours.
Then he asks for a finders fee, and, without fail, every single time, his request escalates from the last one.
He starts with asking for a hug, then a few weeks later he's escalated to a kiss on the cheek, but he always turns his head at the last second. By the third week he's giving you a sloppy, open mouthed kiss that leaves you breathless before he'll even think about giving your underwear back.
(And, god forbid you refuse, because he'll just fucking pocket them.)
He steals your mail, comes over for a cup of sugar, anything he can think of to be in your space he will. And, of course, should you choose to ignore him, and pretend youre still sleeping? He takes advantage of the fact that you're the only neighbor on his side of the hall, and absolutely makes a menace of himself. Presses to the adjacent wall so hard even he worries he might break through it, and moans so loud you're convinced he might go mute.
And at first youre like. okay! no worries! ill just put on noise cancelling headphones! (and if you do anything without those headphones on, thats between you and god.) But then he starts moaning YOUR name and panting like youre in the fucking room with him, until you inevitably get complaints and nobody believes you when you say youre not fucking the hot military veteran because everyone heard it. (or thought they did)
and, if you ever find something of HIS and return it?
He's going to ignore your request for him to stop as your finders fee. He has some more creative ideas for it after all
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the-offside-rule · 1 month
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Jenson Button (McLaren Era) - Formal
Requested: yes
Prompt: reader using Jensons name instead of his pet name
Warnings: none tbh
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Jenson's fingers tapped against the steering wheel as he navigated the familiar roads home from the McLaren Technology Centre. The hum of the engine was drowned out by the cheerful voice of his girlfriend, Y/n, on the other end of the line. "Heya, love." She said, her tone a touch too sweet for the usual end-of-day call. "Could you do me a favor?" Jenson smiled, glancing at the clock. "Of course, darling. What's up?" He asked, beginning to drive down the long road down the MTC. "Well, I was thinking... can you swing by McDonald's and grab me some chips, maybe a burger and a chocolate shake? I'm craving it." She requested, her voice holding a peculiar edge.
"Yeah okay, darling. Burger, chips and a chocolate shake, got it." He replied, a hint of amusement in his voice. Y/n rarely asked for such specific fast food orders. "Oh, and Jenson-" She continued, emphasizing his full name instead of the usual pet names she used. "Make sure it's fresh, okay?" A small frown creased Jenson's forehead. "Not if you keep calling me that." Jenson replied. "What do you mean? I called you Jenson." Y/n said, kind of confused. "Why the sudden formality? You never call me Jenson unless something's up." Y/n giggled amusingly. "Nothing's up, love, I promise. I just thought it would be nice for a change."
"Well don't, please and thank you. I quite like you calling me my pet name." Jenson's skepticism lingered as he pulled into the McDonald's drive-thru. "Jenson, your parents gave you that name." He rolled the window down. "Yes, my parents. You, darling, are my girlfriend. I like when you call me love and if you don't I'm afraid I'll have to block you." He ordered the requested items, making a mental note to ensure they were as hot as possible by the time he got home. As he drove away with the bag of fast food, he couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to Y/n's request.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, Jenson's heart raced as he hurriedly navigated through the evening traffic, eager to reach home and see what he'd done done annoy his girlfriend this time. The anticipation of seeing her after a long day fueled his desire to press on the accelerator just a bit more. Blue and red lights flashed behind him, causing Jenson to let out an exasperated sigh. Pulling over and groaning, he rolled down his window to meet the stern gaze of a police officer. "Do you have any idea how fast you were going?" The officer asked upon reaching the car. Jenson offered a sheepish smile. "I might have been going a tad over the limit, officer. Apologies, I'm just trying to get home."
The officer raised an eyebrow. "Home, huh? And where might that be?" He asked. "Right down the road." Jenson replied, gesturing vaguely ahead. "I've been away for a while, you see. Just eager to get back." The officer eyed Jenson skeptically. "You expect me to believe that? You're in quite a hurry. Who do you think you are? Lewis Hamilton?" Jenson couldn't help but chuckle at the comparison. "No, but I've beaten him a good few times." He replied, smirking.
The officer's expression remained stoic. "I don't appreciate jokes, sir. License and registration, please." Suppressing a sigh, Jenson reached for his documents and handed them over. The officer scrutinized them before returning to his patrol car to run a check. As Jenson waited, he couldn't help but replay the encounter in his mind. He understood the officer's duty, but the delay was becoming increasingly frustrating.
Finally, the officer returned, ticket in hand. "I'm issuing you a speeding ticket, Mr. Button. Please drive more responsibly in the future." Jenson gave a fake smile and took the ticket. "I appreciate the reminder, officer. I'll keep that in mind." As the officer walked off, Jenson mumbled to himself, the words "complete arsehole" being repeated multiple times.
Once home, he found Y/n sitting on the couch, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "You're back! Thanks, Jenson." He handed her the bag, studying her carefully. "Alright. What's going on? Why the sudden craving and the formal use of my name?" Y/n smirked, unable to keep the secret any longer. "Okay, okay. I just wanted to see how you'd react. I like getting reactions out of you." She smiled, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him in for a kiss.
Jenson raised an eyebrow. "Really? You made me drive to McDonald's and speed home because I thought you were pissed off with me. I got a speeding ticket!" Jenson said, lifting the ticket. "And you have a Happy girlfriend who now has McDonald's." Jenson chuckled, shaking his head. "You're something else, Y/n. Next time, just ask for McDonald's without the elaborate plan."
"It's not as effective though, is it?" She teased.
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