#I still can’t wrap my head around those and then I scramble them and make them harder

[sinofwriting]

4 plus 1 - Max Verstappen (I ❤️ MILFS verse)

Words: 1,499 Summary: Four times Logan celebrated mothers day and the first time he celebrated fathers day (part of the I ❤️ MILFS verse)

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One

The first time Logan celebrated Mother’s Day, he was five. His grandpa had stolen him away from his momma, which had made him pout, but then he had crouched down in front of him and quietly asked if he wanted to buy his momma a present for Mother’s Day.

His grandpa, whenever he told the story, always liked to joke that he was surprised that Logan’s head hadn’t fallen off with how hard he had nodded yes.

He had gotten taken to the store where Logan picked out a card that apparently said world’s best mom on it, which had made his grandpa grumble that he was way too young for his daughter to be a mom before letting him pick out a big bouquet of flowers.

Scrambling out of the car and into the house, Logan struggled to hold the flowers that were nearly bigger than him and the card, just barely able to see the way his momma’s jaw had dropped seeing him and the ways tears came to her eyes when he cheerfully wished her a happy momma’s day.

Two

In 2014, Logan got to celebrate mother’s days twice for the first time. His momma not even knowing or realizing that England celebrated it on a completely different day, her bemused expression at him giving her candy and a card staying in his mind.

She had still hugged him tight, pressing kisses all over his face and telling him she was the best son, which had made him squirm, telling her that she was the best momma, the two going back and forth until Logan gave up because she had started to tickle him and his stomach ached from laughing.

Three

Logan stares at the display in front of him, trying not to feel awkward with the eyes boring into him.

“Dude, these are like fifteen grand.” Oscar hisses under his breath.

“Yeah and none of them are the one.” He hisses back, giving the employee a polite smile. “Do you have anything else?”

Their eyes narrow a little, but they nod, an emotionless smile on their face. “Of course, Sir. Our next display.”

Following them over to the next display, his eyes immediately land on a necklace and he instantly points at it. “That one. I’ll take that one, please.”

“Are you sure?”

He frowns, “Yes. I’m sure.”

He turns to Oscar as they start to open the case. “Momma is gonna love that one.”

“Do you have the money for that?”

“Of course.”

Oscar’s eyebrows raise. “Are you sure? Because if those were twenty thousand, I can’t imagine how much these will be.”

Logan nods, shrugging. “Yeah. I’ve got money.”

The clearing of a throat makes Logan turn back around, the necklace is sitting on the counter in its opened box.

“This necklace is forty thousand pounds.”

Logan hears Oscar taking in a sharp breath of air, but Logan is already reaching for his wallet. “I’ll take it. And no gift wrap please.”

They blink at him before nodding. “Of course.”

Oscar hits his arm when they disappear with the necklace behind a curtain.

“Are you kidding me? Forty thousand pounds for a necklace? Pan is going to kill you! Mother’s Day gift or not!”

Logan scoffs, rolling his eyes. “I’m eighteen now and it’s my money. Momma can’t kill me for buying her this. Besides, I haven’t given her a gift under a thousand dollars since I was like six. And she’ll love that necklace.”

Oscar looks at him in disbelief, shaking his head. “Okay, it is way too easy to forget that Harry is a billionaire and by proxy you are.”

“Something tells me you don’t want to know how much your birthday present was.”

“What does that mean?”

Logan smiles at Oscar, shrugging.

“Logan, what does that mean?”

Four

“Can I help with anything?”

Logan jumps at the sound of Max’s voice, nearly banging his head into the opened cupboard door if not for Max, quickly yanking him back.

“Shit.” He curses, turning Logan around and running a hand over his forehead and head, checking for bumps. “You okay?”

“I’m okay. You just scared me.” He chuckles. “Help with what?”

Max eyes him for a moment. “Mother’s Day. I know that it’s in between Miami and Imola for you guys, and I didn’t know if you wanted help with anything.”

“Oh.”

Logan looks at the older man, he doesn’t need any help with Mother’s Day. Already has his momma’s gift sitting in his closet, but Max is asking if he can help. Max cares about their relationship, so he finds himself nodding.

“Actually yeah.”

Max’s whole face lights up. “What can I do?”

Logan quickly says goodbye to his momma’s Christmas gift, but he guesses that what was supposed to be her Mother’s Day can just be her Christmas gift. “There’s this watch she likes, but there’s maybe ten available in the world right now.” He starts to tell Max.

Plus One

Logan has never had a father. And as much as he loves his grandpa, he wasn’t really a father figure for him. The closest he got was maybe Oscar’s dad, but even then he never really saw him enough for that. Max though… Max feels like his dad.

He cares about him, and not just because he’s dating his mom. He talks to Logan, checks in on him, before the first session of every day, Max always ducks into the Williams garage to hug him. He brings him water every time he does media, even when he isn’t scheduled for media for a few hours.

It hasn’t yet been a year, but Logan already can tell he’s fighting a losing battle of not just calling Max his dad. And he knows that Max hasn’t let himself think of himself like that. He’s heard him call him his kid a hundred times, but never once has he called himself Logan’s parent or dad. Always respecting the relationship between his mom and him and the boundaries that Logan has set.

But Logan wants Max to call himself Logan’s dad. Wants to call Max dad to his face and not just to Oscar when he’s too tired to filter or to the media to make the journalists go a little crazy.

So he finds himself laying on the couch, head in his momma’s lap as she runs her fingers through his hair.

“Can we talk?”

“Always.”

His lips quirk up a bit at the quick response. “It’s about Max.”

Her fingers still for just a second before resuming. “What about Max?”

Her voice is measured, smooth, and it gives Logan the courage to say the next words. “I want to call Max dad.” His voice goes quiet. “I want him to be my dad.”

“Oh, baby.” And her voice breaks around the words.

He sits up to look at her. “Are you mad?”

“No.” She smiles, reaching forward to cup his face. “No, baby. Not at all. I’m happy. I’m so happy.”

“So, it’s okay?”

She laughs, her free hand brushing away her tears. “Logan, you can call anyone you want dad, that’s not my choice, that’s yours.”

“Do you think he’ll be okay with it? I want to do it on Father’s Day. Give him a card too.”

“I think Max will be over the moon.”

A week later, Logan shuffles into the living room, a breakfast tray in his hands, where Max is sitting, watching the recap for Le Mans so far.

“Hi.” He greets.

Max smiles at him, “You didn’t need to bring me breakfast.”

He shakes his head, stopping Max from getting up. “I wanted to. It’s a special day.”

“I mean, Le Mans isn’t this kind of special.”

Logan huffs out a laugh, handing over the tray to Max, who places it on the coffee table before sitting on the couch next to him.

“Get enough sleep?”

Logan nods, running a hand through his hair, the other clutching at the card he has for Max. “Wasn’t too bad. I actually have something else for you, because y’know special day.”

Max’s eyebrows raise and Logan can feel nerves fill him. “I still have no idea what you are talking about.”

He shrugs and after a moment he passes over the card, carefully watching Max’s face.

Max looks delighted at getting handed the card, but Logan can see the moment he realizes what kind of card it is. His eyes going wide, his whole body stilling. The room would be quiet if not for the Le Mans highlights playing.

The older man carefully opens it up after a long moment, his breath catching as he reads the written words from Logan.

“Logan,” he starts, and his voice is thick.

“Happy Father’s Day, dad.” Logan speaks before he can say anything else.

“Come here.” He finishes, opening his arms, and Logan dives into them. “I love you so much, kid. So fucking much. I’m gonna be the best dad for you.”

“You already are.”

[spdrwdw]

Pairing: 1042 Miguel X f!reader Warnings: 18+ (Minors DNI) fluff, smut, food play (Is that a term?), Miguel has a weird kink ( it is still kinktober, after all), oral-m/f receiving, slight breeding kink, unprotected intercourse, no use of y/n Summary: Miguel seems to have a sweet tooth. Not only for the birthday cake you are making for Gabriella's birthday, but also for you. Word Count: 2018 A/N: Thank you to @phoenixflower468 who requested some earth 1042 Miguel content! I will continue working on my other requests. Thank you to those who submitted requests to help my writer's block! ALSO; if you'd like to be tagged for my future fics, please let me know! No translations at the end. I figured most of Miguel fic readers already know some of the Spanish pet names and phrases used by now, lmao Check out more of my work on my Masterlist

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Tomorrow was Gabriella’s birthday and you were scrambling getting the cake finished. It was already eleven at night and you were covered in flour and frosting. Or was it icing? You could never tell them apart. Anyway, you were decorating the cake when you heard footsteps coming down from the stairs. 

You quickly paused what you were doing, trying to hear the footsteps. They were too heavy to be Gabriella’s. Miguel was coming downstairs to check on your progress. 

“Miguel. Mi amor, I thought you were sleeping already,” You spoke softly as he made his way into the kitchen, taking a seat on the stool across from you. 

“I miss you,” he pouted. God. He was too adorable. He was six foot nine of pure muscle and dad bod and yet he was the most adorable thing in the world. Besides Gabriella, of course. 

“Lo siento, Miguel. I’m just trying to get this cake finished,” You apologized as you went back to work. Thankfully, those baking lessons you took back in college were finally paying off. The cake didn’t look half bad at all. 

“Why are you making a cake rather than just buying one?” He asked as he took a bit of leftover frosting..or was it icing..and licked it from his finger. You couldn’t help but to bite your lip at the sight. The simplest things this man did made you go feral. It just wasn’t fair.  

He noticed your expression and smirked. Oh, he was such a bastard! 

“What?” You asked, narrowing your eyes at him. 

He simply contained the smirk on his face and grabbed more of the frosting onto his finger and opened his mouth, tongue sticking out slightly before slipping his finger in, letting out a moan. 

You crossed your arms over your chest, trying to keep your composure. 

“I still need that, you know?”

Miguel chuckled and shrugged. “You know how I get around sweets, querida. I have such a sweet tooth.”

You simply gave him a look before grabbing your things and went back to decorating the cake. 

“Yes well, that sweet tooth of yours is going to have to hold off until tomorrow, Miguel. I can’t have you messing this up,” you grumbled, trying to concentrate on your work. You were almost done. 

As you tried to concentrate on drawing up some flowers, you could feel Miguel’s strong arms wrapping around your waist, his chin resting against your shoulder as he watched you work. 

“You’re doing amazing,” he complimented, placing a kiss on your cheek. You knew what he was trying to do. He was trying to get you distracted. 

“Thank you, mi amor,” you hummed, trying to not let him get to you. At least, not until you were finished with Gabri’s cake. 

Surprisingly, he was actually behaving, watching you in admiration as you finished up the cake for your daughter. 

“Looks perfect,” he hummed as you nodded your head in approval, marveling at your work.

“It does, doesn’t it?” You smiled, glancing over at him before pecking his cheek. 

“Mind putting it in the fridge while I clean up?”

Miguel nodded his head and did as he was told before an idea popped into his head and he glanced over at you. 

“Take the frosting upstairs with you,” he said, causing you to raise a brow. 

“What? Why?” You asked as you continued to clean the kitchen island.

“I want to try something,” he stated. 

“Try what?” You pressed, curious as to why Miguel wanted to take the leftover frosting upstairs.

“Just..I’ll show you when we get up there. Come on, mi vida. It’s getting late.”

—-

“What on earth? Miguel!” You gasped as you now laid completely naked in bed, with your hands tied above your head. It was to prevent you from stopping Miguel and his shenanigans. 

Miguel shushed you as he squirted some frosting out of the piping bag and onto the bottom of your navel, leading a trail all the way down to your pubic bone. 

“I told you I had a sweet tooth, mi vida,” he chuckled before he began licking the frosting off of you. 

Your body twitched a bit and you tried to fight back a moan. You had to keep quiet. You didn’t want Gabriella to wake up. 

“And you thought this would be a good way to ease your sweet tooth?” You questioned as Miguel began to coat your breasts with the frosting before taking a breast into his mouth, licking and sucking off the sweetness, swirling his tongue around your nipple and tugging at it before doing the same with the other breast. You couldn’t conceal your moans any longer. 

“M-Miguel..please..” you breathed. 

“Hmm? Please what?” Miguel asked, a smirk on his lips.

“You’re making me all sticky,” you pouted. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll wash it off of you later,” he continued to smirk before taking hold of your chin and ordered you to open your mouth. You did as he said, and he squeezed some frosting into your mouth, keeping it along your tongue before he kissed you, slipping his tongue into your mouth to catch the sweetness. 

“Mmm, tastes so much better coming from the pretty mouth of yours,” he moaned, licking his lips.

“Alright well, don’t be greedy. Let me in on some of that, too,” you stated. 

Miguel chuckled and freed your hands before he began to take off his own clothes. Geez, how did you get so lucky to have a man like him as your husband and father of your child? 

Miguel then laid down on the bed as you straddled his waist and saw him open his mouth, tongue hanging out as he waited for you to squirt some frosting onto his tongue. You did just that, shaking your head before leaning down and kissed him hard, all teeth and tongue as you tasted the sweetness in his mouth. 

In no time at all, you were both sticky and smelling sweet. The piping bag was now discarded somewhere on the bed, and you were now sitting on his face. Honestly, it was the best seat in the house, if you had anything to say about it. 

Miguel was eating you out as if your pussy was the sweetest thing on earth. Tongue slobbering over your folds, teeth nipping at your clit, and long fingers curled into you, hitting you at just the right spot, making you see stars. You couldn’t help but to grind against his face. Miguel could take it, though. He was sturdy. 

You tried to cover your mouth to muffle your moans, your other hand stroking his meaty cock. You could feel the veins twitching as your wedding band rubbed against them. Leaning over, you finally took him into your mouth, slowly, of course. You could feel his moan vibrating through you as he continued to eat your pussy, causing you to moan out around his cock in response. After taking in as much of Miguel’s cock as you could, you began bobbing your head, the tip hitting the back of your throat every time. 

It wasn’t long until you felt him twitching in your mouth, and you doubled down on your efforts, pumping him with one hand, and gripping his balls with the other as you continued bobbing your head. 

You felt his tongue assaulting your pussy, running through your bundle of nerves while his fingers curled up and rubbed against that spot that made you see stars. 

In no time at all, you were orgasming into each other’s mouths, and you didn’t dare to waste a single drop of him. 

Before you could even blink, Miguel picked you up and flipped you over, pinning you down onto the bed, lining himself between you and rammed his cock into your soaked pussy. 

“Oh! Miguel!” You gasped as he pounded into you. The wet, sticky sounds of skin hitting against skin bounced off the walls, filled with the harmony of yours’ and Miguel’s moans. 

“You feel so good, mi amor. So fucking good,” Miguel groaned through gritted teeth. 

“Kinda makes me wanna put another baby in you. Think that’d be okay?” He grunted. The thought of filling you up and getting you pregnant with another baby made his cock twitch inside of you. 

Eh, the conversation of having another child did come up every now and then, and..yeah, why not? Gabriella deserved a sibling. 

“M-Miguel..” You breathed, your mind going fuzzy as you tilted your head back against the pillows. 

“Qué pasa, amor?” He cooed once he leaned over and pecked you on the cheek, his pace still brutal. You were so close to your orgasm, you gritted your teeth.

“Can’t handle my cock? Hmm? Is my pretty wife gonna cum?” He continued to coo, pivoting his hips against you in a more snapping manner. 

“Cum over my cock, mi amor.”

And you did. Because when he commands you to do something such as this, you do it, gladly. 

“That’a girl,” Miguel groaned, his thrusts getting sloppy as he reached his limit and came, coating your walls with his seed, filling you up just how you loved it. 

Once he was finished, Miguel slowly pulled out of you and laid on top of you, however, didn’t put all his weight on you cuz, the man is huge.

Miguel rested his head over your shoulder as you both caught your breath. Your arms wrapped around him, pulling him closer before kissing his cheek. You just loved him so much. He was a great husband, and a wonderful father. The best person you could ever imagine having as your life partner. 

“You alright?” He then asked, a cheeky smile on his face as he gently rubbed your back. 

“I’m fine, Miguel,” You giggled softly before kissing him sweetly just as you heard something coming from the hallway. Your eyes suddenly went wide. 

Gabriella.

The bedroom door opened as you both scrambled to get your naked bodies under the covers. 

Gabriella slowly stepped in, rubbing her sleepy little eyes as she held her stuffed bunny in one hand. 

“Mamá? Papá?” She muttered. 

“¿Qué pasa, mija?” Miguel asked softly as Gabriella stepped further inside. 

“I can’t sleep,” she said, looking up at the both of you. 

“Oh, Gabri. Do you want to sleep here with us?” You asked her, and she quickly nodded her head. 

“Okay, go grab your blankie and your pillow.”

She then smiled and nodded her head before walking out of the room, and you and Miguel both bolted to the dresser and closet to grab some clothes and a quick change of sheets. 

As you fixed up the bed, Miguel as in the bathroom getting himself cleaned up, and then you stepped into the bathroom to do the same just as Gabriella came back in, holding her bunny, blankie and pillow. She climbed onto the clean bed just as you both made your way back out of the bathroom. Miguel closed the door and turned off the lights and joined you two, wrapping his arms around Gabriella. 

“Feel better, mija?” You asked with a smile and Gabriella nodded her head, grinning.

“Yeah! I kept hearing these weird sounds and I couldn’t sleep,” she said, causing you and Miguel to look at each other with slight embarrassment.

“I’m sorry, Gabri. Hopefully you won’t hear them again,” you told her, gently stroking her hair as she snuggled up against you. You noticed Miguel pouting over at you, to which you rolled your eyes and smirked at him.

“Let’s get some sleep. It’s your big day tomorrow,” you reminded her, kissing her cheeks as she giggled, nodding her head. 

“Good night, ladies,” Miguel said, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you and Gabriella closer to him, having your daughter sandwiched in the middle; which she loved. 

“Night night, papà,” Gabriella giggled. 

“Goodnight, Miguel,” you smiled over at him and leaned over to give him a goodnight kiss, still being able to taste the frosting on his lips. 

Perhaps you had a bit of a sweet tooth as well. 

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Tags: @migueloharastruelove, @camzzn

[reidology13]

I tell someone I love them (just as a distraction)

Spencer Reid x fem famous!reader

Summary: In the depths of his addiction, Spencer finds someone who needs an escape as much as he does. cw: talk of addiction, allusions to sex (no actual smut), angst no happy ending

Part 2 here!

Meaningless whispers of ‘I love you’ mumbled between laboured breaths and cold kisses in an apartment that doesn’t feel like mine. The sheen of sweat that coats his body is nearly constant these days, it has nothing to do with physical exertion. The glaze over his hollow eyes is the furthest possible thing from pleasure, although by now he might have his wires crossed. His face is beautiful, and I can see myself marrying it in another life, one where my chest isn’t as hollow as his cheeks. A life where I don’t have to ignore the fresh scars in the crook of his elbow as I pull his shirt off.

I am not in that world, and neither is he, a reality that I cannot grieve because this is what I asked for, what I have been working for since before I can remember. The parties that leave me empty and sick, the performances that start the moment I leave the stage, the new friends who tag along for my name. I love him because he doesn’t care about any of it, if only because he’s too high to care about much at all.

I don’t feel anything when I finish, I’m not sure he does, either. I watch as he disappears from my side, already scrambling to his bag, searching through it until he finds what he needs. He slips into the bathroom, finally taking his chance to feel something after the numbness of the night. He has his escape, he used to be mine. I wonder if one day the chemicals he defiles his veins with will stop calming his ever racing mind, or if I just need a higher dose.

When he comes back, I pull him close to me, dragging him back down into the bedsheets and sweat. It works this time, my skin alight with every electrifying touch as his fingers dance gracefully across my body. His hands shake as they move, a feeling that makes my nerves sing as a lump forms in my throat and my heart sinks to my stomach. He looks up at me with those brown eyes that would be so gorgeous if they held any emotion, anything but that violent hunger for a craving he should have satisfied moments earlier. He can’t up his dose as easily as I can, can’t pull his vice back to bed without the risk of never waking up. He doesn’t bother saying that he loves me this time, we both know it’s not true. Or maybe it is, but there are things he loves much more, and telling me he loves me debases one of the only pure things left in the world. I’m glad he doesn’t try this time.

He holds me afterwards, his trembling body not yet ready to stand up, or maybe he knows that the moment he does he’ll be back inside the bathroom. I turn my head away, and as he buries his face in my shoulder, I pretend I don’t feel the apology he mouths against my glass skin. He runs a hand down my upper arm, his touch tentative and light, scared that I’ll shatter into a million pieces. My heart does. If he knows about the tear that runs down my face, he ignores it, and I’m not surprised. Ignorance is what we’re good at, after all.

When I wake up, he’s gone, slipped into the early morning, or called into the job that he shouldn’t be doing in his condition. I crawl out of my cold, damp sheets, the disgusting aftermath of our night. The sick feeling that perpetually sits in my gut, loosening under him, twisting tighter under the sun of the next day. 

Slowly, I peel back the layers of sticky fabric, watching how they cling to my skin and each other as I force them into the washing machine. I turn it on.

Fresh sheets are laid out on my bed, sheets that haven’t yet witnessed the tornado of us, still clean and untainted by tears and sweat and words that never mean anything. I lay the sheet over the mattress, fighting to wrap it around all four corners as it perpetually escapes one, always sitting just slightly wrong. I place the pillows down carefully, fighting the urge to punch them like I’ve been wanting to punch his face every time he shows up at my door.

I can see myself marrying him in this world, too, getting him the help he needs and staying with him through it all. He would be able to be there for me when I need it, not an escape from, but support through the other parts of my life, a person to love and talk to about the hard things. But I know that is still impossible. One day, he will sober up and disappear, or I will be an uninvited guest at his funeral. There’s no option that ends well for both of us, the best we can do is take it as it happens and ignore everything.

I watch as the last blanket floats down over the bed, carelessly adjusting its corners. It looks exactly the same.

[altacctforastarion]

Urges

Basic title, I know. SPOILERS in this one, you’ve been warned. From an anon request, accidentally posted my draft and had to delete it again, ugh.

Hurt/comfort after reader loses control of the urges during combat. This is set in act 3, post killing Cazador, before killing Orin, so your urges aren’t new to anyone, but I’m following the gameplay, so this is only the third time you’ve lost control, the first being the bard, the second being the time you tried to kill Astarion.

This one is dark and bloody, heed the warnings please.

Warnings: sfw kind of? No sexual content, but there’s gore. 18+ mdni. You commit unhinged violent acts on some people that threaten the group, you get bitey. You threaten Astarion a few times, he does not give a single fuck. Hurt/comfort, you’re angsty, Astarion loves you dearly. Bathing/washing so you are nude, non sexual intimacy, fluffy despite the violent beginning. No pronouns for you, no use of y/n.

Tag list: @lotus-ignis @astari0nsju1ceb0x @obsessionprofessional

You feel the pressure in your head, but you don’t even have time to fight it, the urges take over and you see red, and the man in front of you doesn’t react quick enough, and your teeth sink into his neck, your daggers piercing his abdomen over and over as you come down on top of him on the ground. He tries to scream but he can’t manage much as his body goes into shock, your head shaking as if you could rip his throat out, cursing this body, the lack of sharp teeth.

You hear your companions yelling, and arms wrap around your biceps and throat, attempting to pull you off of what is now a corpse. It angers you, how dare those hands touch you, how dare they try to rip you from your prize? You’ve only just begun and they want you to stop now? No. You will not stop, you need more skin in your teeth and blood on your hands.

You let out a growl, momentarily pausing your borderline rabid head shaking, your teeth still fully sheathed in the man’s neck, his blood still flowing onto your body, iron covering your tongue. The arms around you have stopped your stabbing, but you will not allow them to take you away completely.

“Darling, he’s very dead, I think you can stop now.” Astarion’s voice is in your ear, infuriating you. You growl again, biting down harder and straining against the arms around you, he grunts as you struggle, “Come on darling, let go. You’re making a mess. He’s dead, you won, congratulations, Daddy Bhaal will be so pleased.”

Your father will be pleased, you know he’s right, but you aren’t. You crave more, and the vampire attaching himself to you will do nicely. You let go of the man’s throat and throw your head back trying to disorient the fool who tried to stop you, but he tuts at you disapprovingly, “That’s not very nice, I didn’t want to have to do things this way, really. Get ahold of yourself, darling.” He moves his head back, calling over his shoulder, “Will one of you big ones carry them to the river? They’ll want the blood out of their mouth and off their face.”

“Soldier? Can you… calm down maybe? And I’ll take you to the water, you can get clean-“ you cut the voice off, vaguely registering that it’s a familiar voice, your brain scrambled and furious.

“I’ll kill you all! And I’ll keep your fangs as souv-“ your threat is cut off as Astarion quickly removes the arm on your biceps, and then the butt of his dagger comes down on the back of your head, your vision fading to black.

—

When you wake, your hands and feet are tied, and there’s a weight on your back, your chest and stomach pressing into the ground uncomfortably, your pack is under your head, supporting it. Your shirt has been removed, and you see it laying on a rock in the sun, wet and bloodstained, your face is a few feet away from the water, but your hair is soaking wet, sticking to your neck and forehead.

Astarion’s disinterested voice greets you, “Hello, darling. Feeling more like yourself?”

You try to fight the urges, but your answer doesn’t come out how you wanted, your body struggling against his weight on top of you and the ropes the keep you restrained, “Your bones will make my castle!”

Gods, I’ve become a monster, you think, hoping he has the sense to kill you, to ignore the love confessions and the care he had for you.

But of course, he doesn’t have that sense you’d hoped for, instead he answers mockingly, “Yes, yes, and all is ash and meat, right? Really, you need to work on your lines, this is getting repetitive, love. You’re usually very clever, these urges lack your wit. Fight them, will you? I’m getting bored.”

You feel tears leave your eyes as you struggle internally against the urges, grappling for control over your own mind and body. You crane your head back to see him, and he smirks down at you as you bare your teeth despite your best attempts at reigning yourself in.

“You’ll beat this, love. Keep trying. The others went back to camp, in case you’re in there and wondering, the only person you hurt was a man we’d have killed anyways. You did try to headbutt me though, saying you’ll take my fangs as souvenirs. I must say, that one was funny, look at you, branching out with your threats. I do prefer them personalized. You flatter me.” He’s calm as he sits, like none of this fazes him, and it would be comforting if you weren’t so terrified of hurting him.

The urges wane, just a little, but enough for your body to still, for your words to return to your control, your voice raw from the screaming and blood you must have consumed, “I’m sorry.”

“There you are, my sweet! You’ve nothing to apologize for, we don’t choose our parents. At least this time your target was someone who would have died anyways, instead of me, as pretty as you looked all bloodied, I’d rather not be on the other end of your daggers and teeth, apparently. Do you know what the goal was with that? Why bite him if not to drink?” He ponders, as if you’re talking about the weather.

“You should hate me. You have options now, you can hate me. You should have killed-“

“Shut up. After nearly two hundred years of shit I finally find someone to care about, someone who stood by my side through everything, and they want me to kill them? Over some daddy issues? No. I do have options now, so many terrifying choices, but this one is easy. I will not kill you, I won’t even hurt you if there’s a way to rein you in without it. I will help you beat this because you can beat this. So if all I have to do is knock you over the head, tie you up and get blood and skin out of your teeth and clothes then so be it.” He sighs, “Are you all back together now? Can I untie you? Or should I wash the rest of you while you’re still bound?”

“No, the urges are still there. They want you dead.” You whisper the last part guiltily, moving your head to stare at the ground instead of the kind man sitting on top of you.

“I’ll free your feet so you can walk and I can get the rest of your clothes off then, you’re filthy. You can wear some of my clothes afterwards, you’re lucky I pack extras in my bag.” He doesn’t wait for a response, freeing your feet and reaching under you to undo the laces on your pants, pulling them and your underwear off. He helps you stand, and walks you to the river, urging you to sit, the water coming up to your chest before going to his pack, “Don’t drown yourself.”

He returns with soap and a sponge, and starts to clean you, heat rushing to your face as you become very aware of your nudity while he touches you, it was an afterthought before, caring more about the imminent threat of your urges, but now as he’s removing the blood and dirt thats caked onto your skin, you can’t help but pay attention to how exposed you are, “Gods, does Bhaal demand all of his children get so dirty while they kill for him? I feel any murder would do, there’s simply no need for you to get this filthy.”

“I wanted to bathe in that man’s blood.” You say solemnly, staring down at his hands as they work.

“Oh, yes I suppose that will make things messy.” That’s all he says, like nothing you say truly matters and you just snap.

“Why don’t you care? I’m a fucking monster, Astarion. I wanted to kill you, I tried to rip out that man’s throat, I’m dangerous!” You shout, water rippling as your body moves in the water, angry with him for either underestimating your urges or not valuing his life enough to care about your lineage.

“What would you have me do? Run away? No, you will fight this, we will find a way to save you. Your urges aren’t you, and you aren’t dangerous. You’re kind and caring and I love you. Stop trying to convince me otherwise, it’s a waste of time. Look at me, there’s still some blood on your face I need to get off.”

You obey, and he leans in and kisses you, putting the soap and sponge on the shore and pulling you in close when his hands are free. When the kiss breaks he laughs a bit, “There wasn’t blood on your face. And you didn’t try to bite, so unless those voices are still in there I’m going to cut you loose, you’re going to get dressed, and we’ll go back to camp, I’m sure the others are worried about you.”

You realize the voices have gone quiet, happily telling him, and he does as he said he would, giving you his clothes and complimenting your outfit when you’ve put them on, getting a laugh from you.

—

“So why did you sit on me? Was I still struggling when I was unconscious?” You ask as you walk back to camp, hand in hand.

“Hm? No. I wanted a seat and you tried to bite me last time this happened, so I killed two birds with one stone. You were very comfortable, thank you, love.” He smiles at you, as if sitting on your crazed partner to keep them from biting is a wholesome activity.

Your companions bombard you with questions and demands when you return, if you’re ok, if you’re in control, if you need healing, if you’re hungry, Gale made a very good dinner if you would like some, eat, you need to take care of yourself. None of them ask if you’re a threat, or tell you to leave, and you feel your heart swell, answering them kindly and accepting the food that is shoved into your hands.

—

That night you ask to be tied up again, and Astarion secures your hands behind you, moving weapons out of your reach just in case, as you settle in his tent. He pulls you to him, your head on his chest with an offer to stay awake and watch you if you let him feed from you, making a dark joke about the extra blood you have in your system.

You fall asleep to the sound of his voice, “I love you, at the very least you looked beautiful covered in blood, maybe a little crazy, but where’s the fun in completely sane people anyways?”

[oh-koenig-my-koenig]

doing the laundry

(cw: age gap 25/41; nsfw, mdni, smutty domesticity, könig likes panties a lot ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) (just like everything with panties i could think about), mutual mast*rbation, creampie)

König said he was gonna do some chores before we head out for dinner, but it seems like he's taking his sweet time. I go to look for him in this big ass house, running down to the cellar, where the washing machine and the dryer are. He said he'll do the laundry, so I'll probably find hi-

I peak my head in the door and my mind blanks, the words halting in my throat when I see him. Standing in front of the washing machine, his shorts pulled down, pooling around his knees. His hand is around his dick, moving up and down his length in hasty motions.

A piece of fabric between the fingers of his other hand. His nose buried deep in the soft purple, grunts dropping from his lips as he fucks his fist.

The frilly lace is giving it away. Those are my panties. My panties!

He is never shy about telling me how much he likes my taste, how much he loves having his face buried in my pussy. But this is a little different. My jaw drops, a gasp torn from my lips and he finally notices me. Dropping the hand from his face. Red hot blush staining his cheeks when he looks at me.

"Oh fuck, Liebes... I'm sorry.", he almost stammers, his mouth falling open, sucking in air.

Fuck. He looks so good. His chest peppered with dark hair heaving with his deep breaths. A stray strand of hair hanging over his face, sticking to his cheek. His abs taut, his dick hanging heavy between his legs, hard and red. The tip is leaking precum, wetting his hand, leaving stains on the sweatpants, as he tries to pull it up. Caught red-handed jerking off sniffing my panties.

As he is scrambling to get himself together, I take a few steps into the room, in his direction. Stopping his wrist when he tries to pull his sweatpants up even further.

"Don't stop on my account.", I tell him, getting on my tiptoes and pressing a kiss onto his jaw. He's still frozen in place almost like a statue, as I brush a strand of hair out of his face. Leaving him standing there as I make my way to the washing machine, lifting the hamper from its top and setting myself on the plastic covered surface.

Stupid heady desire rushing through my veins while I get rid of my jeans, purposefully keeping my panties on, a similar pair to the one he still got in his right hand. His eyes widen a little bit, the lustful stare meeting me while I sit there.

"I wanna watch.", I say, hoarse, almost soundlessly.

A little shiver shakes him, I can see it in the way his shoulders tense for just a moment.

"Okay." Taking one, two steps back until his back hits the wall, his hand dropping to his dick again as he leans back. This time it's the one holding my panties, the lace wrapping around his girth while he slowly starts to jerk off, his eyes meeting mine, a little smirk playing around his lips.

It’s not the first time seeing him play with himself, but still…

Mesmerized I watch him, biting my lip. I lean back too, propping myself up on my arm, and lift my legs up, positioning them at the edge and dropping my knees to the side. Showing off the panties I'm wearing right now, the fabric over my pussy already a little damp. Seeing him like that got me worked up a bit...

My hand moves down my body until it's between my legs, the fingertips brushing over the wet lace and I can't help but moan, the first contact with my clit - even through the fabric - making me squirm.

He falters a little bit, his eyes intently on my fingers, his own hand stopping for a moment before picking up speed again. He spits, down at his own dick, wetting it a little more, while gripping tighter.

My strokes get needier, feeling the wetness seep into the fabric as I start to rub myself, my hips bucking into my hand and I can’t help the sounds I’m making. Feeling the roughness of the lace against the sensitive skin, and the growing slick underneath.

As I pull the fabric to the side, he sighs. “Hmm, yes, stuff yourself, Hexe.”, the little order dropping from his lips.

And I’m more than happy to oblige, my middlefinger slipping into me. Adding another finger quickly, sighing as I try to reach deeper. Giving him full view of how I’m fingering myself, a little grin stalking onto my face, moans getting pulled from me as I push inside me, over and over again.

The simmering heat in his gaze feels like soft touches all over my body while he fucks his fist, his brows pulling together, his eyes glazing over as his jaw goes slack, a telltale sign that he is close.

"Fuck, g'na come.", he groans, his hand moving faster up and down his shaft, squeezing the tip with every pass.

"Not yet.", I tell him harshly, and he lets go of his dick, almost surprisinfly obedient. Breathing heavily, but just looking at me, his eyes narrowing, the lids droopy.

"Come here.", I mouth, making a 'come hither'- motion with my fingers, ignoring the wetness on them, and he follows in an instant.

"Yes, Ma'm."

Just two strides and his thighs almost collide with the washing machine, his dick hanging between us as he props himself up with one arm and leans forward.

I take the panties from his grasp, telling him "Open up." and he drops his jaw without hesitation. I love it when he takes charge, doing me however he likes to, but seeing the big hulking man just do everything I tell him to, also does things to me.

The look on his face, when I push my panties into his mouth, his eyes rolling back, groaning, sends another shiver over me. His hips rut forward, the tip of his dick nudging against my pussy, against the panties I'm still wearing, which only makes him groan more, the sounds getting muffled by my undies.

I chuckle a little, pressing a tiny kiss to his nose, before I pull the already soaked fabric to the side. He doesn't wait another second, pushing into me, and the sudden stretch pulls a loud whine from my lips. My hands shoot out to hold onto him, my fingertips digging into his shoulders as he grips the top of the washing machine and starts to fuck me. Deep hard thrusts, pushing me into the surface, and I desperately try to meet his movements, try not to get pushed off the surface.

He never holds back his sounds, his grunts and deep moans intermingling with mine when he is fucking me, but with the impromptu gag they get stifled in the most delicious way. Sounding a bit more desperate too. My own sounds reverberate off the walls, the small cellar room creating an echo of my moans, the slapping of skin against skin, the rattling of the machine underneath me as König's thrusts shake it.

The tip of his dick reaching deep inside me, his girth stretching me when he pushes balls-deep.

I reposition myself, my legs up high, ignoring the hardness of the surface beneath my butt. Leaning further back and my feet dangling over his shoulders as my knees get pushed into my front. The change of angle has me lose my mind, filling me up just right.

“Yes, yes, just like-”, I plead, my eyebrows pulled up, and my eyes going wide, the words getting stuck in my throat. I’m desperately hanging onto him, my fingernails digging into his biceps, leaving red marks - something he won’t mind at all - while I come. Making a mess on his lap, wetting the panties I'm still wearing even more.

König doesn’t stop, pushing my legs further back, his hands grabbing the plush of my thighs while he sinks into my pussy, his long hair whipping back and forth, the soft strands brushing over naked arms and shoulders. His eyes roll back, the expression on his face mirroring the one from before, when he had his nose buried in my panties, and he comes as well, his upper body shaking hard, the plastic surface aching as his hands press into it.

I can only stare at him, my mouth fallen open, my eyes fixed on him. The groan leaving his throat, getting caught in the fabric of my panties, sends a tingle down my spine.

His hips stutter forward, his dick pumping into me, sticky cum spurting inside me, spilling over my pussy and panties. He slows down, pushing into me one last time, slick dripping out of me.

He’s pulling back, softly caressing my thighs where his fingertips left little bruises with how hard he was grabbing me, lowering gently.

I jump from the washing machine, landing on the floor, grinning up at König. He’s still gagged, his chest heaving with heavy breaths. I reach up and pull my panties from his mouth, soaked in his spit, and he catches my wrist. Pressing a few soft kisses to it, and the back of my hand. When he lets go, I toss the little piece of fabric into the hamper.

“Thank you, Liebes.”, he hums, smiling down at me, drowsiness dropping his lids and blush staining his cheeks.

“Oh, you’re so very welcome, Sir.”, I tell him, getting on my tiptoes and press a kiss to his lips while he pulls up his shorts.

Grabbing the waistband of my panties, I pull them down instead, the damp fabric clinging to me for a moment, and then I put them in his pocket, patting it, gesturing him with a little wink, that those were his now. As he seemed to like them so much.

He grumbles something in German, pulling me against him again, capturing my mouth in a kiss. A long and sweet one that has me melt against him.

“Shower and then going out to dinner?”, he suggests, pressing me against his sweat slick chest, his arm coming around me. “I’ll do the laundry later.”, grinning down at me apologetically. Like I ever could be mad at him when his little distraction lead to some hot and kinky sex.

"Yes, cause that was my last washed pair of undies.", I tell him, with a sly grin and a sidelook at the basket full of dirty clothes. "Seems like I need to take a page from your book and go commando for once."

He groans, the sound almost turning to a little growl. "You're killing me, Hexe."

I giggle. "Just pray that I don't pick out my one short dress today...", I tease him.

He catches my chin, making me look up at him as he leans down, coming closer and closer. "Oh, quite the contrary.", he drawls, his signature smirk stalking onto his face. "I pray that you wear that one cause I like it. And you're still gonna be a good girl and behave."

My mouth drops open, sucking in a breath as he presses a kiss to my lips which is a threat and a promise at the same time. He lets go of me, and I grin up at him, before I back away, still holding his gaze.

"We'll see...", I say, dashing away through the door, but his hand still lands on my butt in a loud spank. I laugh as I keep running, up the stairs.

“Can’t catch meeee.”, I shout over my shoulder which always does the trick. I’m scooped up within seconds, his strong arms lifting me up.

“If you keep this up, we’re never gonna catch the reservation…”, he grumbles, but I see the mischief flashing in his eyes.

My answer is a giggle, my hand tangling in his hair, grabbing the long strands between my fingers, pressing kiss after kiss to the side of his face.

~ More in the Masterlist ~

[bloodibambiidoll]

It was just a dream

(Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader)

Summary: So this is based on This request that @taintedcigs got and she gave me permission to write it because it’s kind of heavy. The request is based on reader dreaming about crying at Eddie’s grave but I did change it to you having a dream about the day he almost died. That’s just the way it came to me personally. You have a dream about the day Eddie dies, but you wake him in his arms, and he comforts you in every way possible. WK: 3k.

Warnings: In beginning of the fic although it is a dream I do describe Eddie’s death so read with caution if that upsets you, unprotected p in v, love making, fingering, hurt/comfort, Eddie being the sweetest goofball, fluff. 18+MNDI!!

A/N: I’ve never written a single thing where I acknowledge “the scene” or Eddie dying, ever. Like I always write AU with no upside down. But after seeing those photos yesterday I’ve been feeling very emotional and I saw this request and idk it just kinda came to me. I did cry writing it, but it also comforted me a lot. But pls pls read with caution if this might be upsetting for you. Thank you to my lovely @babygorewhore & @bimbobaggins69 for beta reading for me. Sending everybody love.🖤

The muscles in your legs are screaming and your lungs burn with each step you take. The grey particle filled air feels like it’s filling your organs with each intake of breath. But it’s nothing compared to the tearing feeling in your heart, the anxiety and fear coursing through you pushing your aching body to keep running. The massive bite shaped gash in your calf is a distant sensation as your eyes zero in on the swarm of bats, eagerly searching for any signs of him.

“God fucking damn it, Eddie. Fuck!”

Tears stream down your cheeks and your throat is raw from the curses and screams you’ve been letting out for the last few minutes. At least you think it’s been minutes. It truly felt like it’s been hours since you watched him cut that rope. You screamed so loud you felt like your ear drums were going to burst. You scrambled back through the gate, injured leg be damned.

The minute you hit the ground, you didn’t stop. Not when you heard something in your shoulder crack, not when you heard Dustin screaming after you. You didn’t stop when one of those bats flew directly at you, you just ran faster, jabbing your spear directly into its heart as you went. And you weren’t going to stop. Not until you reached Eddie. You couldn’t. They’d have to kill you first.

The adrenaline in your body continued to push you forward, only a few feet away from the swarm now. You tried your best to focus your eyes through the endless streams of tears falling from them, and it took a few seconds but you finally saw him. Your heart lurched when you saw he was still standing, his shield held above him. It somehow gave you the strength to run faster, your spear slashing through the air at the bats to get to him.

“EDDIE!!!!!!!!!”

His head whips in your direction at the sound of your voice, a shocked look on his face. In the same moment he looks away a bat lunges at his side, taking a large bite out of him, causing him to cry out in pain.

“EDDIE NO!!”

You shove your spear into the bat that’s latched onto him and it lets out a shriek as it dies. Your relief is short lived because there’s a sudden stabbing pain in your already stinging shoulder and another one in your bicep.

“BABY!! WHAT ARE YOU DOING! FUCK!”

Eddie can’t believe you’re here, you weren’t supposed to follow him. He knew he wasn’t making it out of this, and now he was going to take you with him. He never should’ve cut that rope. He slams his spear against the bat on your shoulder, while you shove your nails into the one on your bicep. But it’s no use, you’re surrounded. Every time you get one off, two more are on you, and he’s starting to feel weak.

In that moment he does the only thing he can think to do, he wraps his arms around you, tackling you to the ground. His covers his body with yours, his arms on each side of your head, his face hovering above yours so your eyes can meet.

“I’m so sorry baby, I’m so sorry. I’m sorry.” Tears fall from his eyes and onto your cheeks, pooling together with the ones leaving your own eyes.

“It’s okay, it’s okay.” You soothe him, your bloodied hands reaching up to cradle his face. His eyes are shut now, his body tensing over and over as he uses it to shield yours against the bats attacks. “At least we are together, yeah? Kiss me.”

He obligees, his dirty sweat stained lips meeting yours in a desperate kiss. He kisses you over and over until he physically can’t anymore. His head lulling to the side against your chest. You hold onto him for dear life, barely even feeling the chunks you’re sure are being taken out of your forearms. You feel like it’s never going to end, until suddenly it does. The attacks all stop at once, a chorus of thuds sounding around you. Then you hear Dustin’s voice calling your names, it’s distant, but it’s there.

“Eddie, Eddie, they’re dead.” You shake him slightly and he groans. “You gotta get off me so I can take a look at you baby.”

“Oh my god!! Are you guys okay!?” You see Dustin’s panicked face standing over you and you wish you had it in you to make a sarcastic remark about how you’re obviously not, but you don’t.

“Dustin! Help me, help me roll him over, please.” You practically beg him, your sobs still haven’t stopped, the shallowness of Eddie’s breath taking away any relief you felt about the bats being gone.

Dustin bends down, rolling Eddie off you as carefully as he can. Eddie whimpers when his back hits the ground and you immediately shoot up right, leaning over him.

“Eddie, sweetie, can you look at me?”

“Bad, huh?” He groans, a slight smirk still somehow present on his face.

“No no, Eddie you’re gonna be okay.” Dustin is on his knees how, trying to access Eddie’s injuries through his panic.

“I didn’t run away this time, right?” Your heart breaks at the sound of his voice, this can’t be fucking happening.

“No, baby, you didn’t. But we’re gonna get you okay of here, okay?” You grab rub your thumbs over his temples, resting your forehead against his.

“Yeah, we just gotta get you to a hospital, come on, you guys gotta get up.” Dustin begs, tears fall from his eyes and it breaks your heart even more. You hate that he has to see this.

“I just… I need a second.” Eddie groans, his hand weakly reaches for your face, cupping it like he’s done a thousand times before, like you’re scared he will never do again. “I love you, I love you so much baby. You’re my everything, I’m so sorry.”

“I love you Eddie, I love you. It’s gonna be okay don’t apologize because it’s gonna be okay.” You rub your nose against his, he feels cold and his breathing is more shallow than ever.

“Dustin…” he turns to his young friend with a found smile. “You’re gonna have to look after those little sheep for me, okay?”

“No, no, you’re gonna do it yourself” Dustin’s sobs cause a new wave of your own to wrack through your body, shaking every bone.

“Nah man… you’re gonna do it for me…” Eddie smiles, patting Dustin’s cheek with all his strength. “Baby girl… you’re gonna be okay, okay? I’m … so sorry. I love you.”

His hands start to slip from both of your faces, his eyes falling shut.

“Eddie? Eddie!! No, no, no, no. Baby stay with me.” You shake his face, but this time you get no response. Your hands clutch onto his hair, your head falling to his chest. “NO!!! NO! NO NO NO NO!!! THIS CAN’T BE HAPPENING!!! EDDIE NO!!!”

You feel like the world is shaking around you, you feel like your heart is being ripped from your chest. You can’t lose him. You feel warm hands on your shoulders shaking you as someone says your name over and over again. You push them off. You aren’t leaving him. They’ll have to leave you here.

“Baby!!!! Wake up!!!! You’re dreaming, it’s a dream, I’m here.” Eddie’s voice finally gets through to you, and your dream hazed mind vaguely starts to recognize the feeling of his arms around you. You come back into your waking body slowly and then all at once, shooting straight up with a shriek.

You look around the room panting, it’s still dark, and you’re in bed. With Eddie. Eddie is alive. He didn’t die. The others got to you in time. You’re in your new fancier than you ever imagined, government tip off home. That you share with Eddie and Wayne. Eddie is alive. You start to repeat the mantra that’s become all to familiar to yourself in your mind as you feel strong arms wrap around you from behind.

“It’s okay baby, you’re okay, I’m here. It’s just a dream.” Eddie soothes you, pulling you into his lap so he can cradle you. He rocks back and forth, his hands running over every part of you, he makes sure to keep his grip strong, remembering that you said it makes you feel grounded. It makes you feel like he’s really here.

“Oh Eddie, it was so real. It was like I was really there again.” You sob into his bare chest as your hands desperately caress his skin. Some of it still has the same smooth texture you always remembered, most of it is rough from scars. But it’s just another thing that grounds you to reality, another reminder that he’s real and the dream wasn’t.

“I know sweetheart, I know. But it’s okay, I’m here, I’m always going to be here for you. I’m so sorry.” Eddie’s crying now, the guilt of leaving you, of putting you through this plagues him constantly. The dreams aren’t every night like they used to be, they’ve finally started to space out after almost a year. But it still pains him deeply that he put you through this. That on nights like this you scream out for him, because of him.

“It’s okay Eddie, it’s okay.” Your hands loop around his neck, pulling him close. You hate that he beats himself up, you understand why he did it and you’re just glad he’s alive, glad he’s here with you. But your unconscious mind couldn’t seem to get the memo. No matter how much you understood, no matter how much mental and physical healing you did in the waking hours, the dream always found its way back to you. “I love you. So much. I love you so much Eddie.”

“I love you baby, more than anything.” He wanted to apologize again, until his lungs gave out, but he knows you hate it when he does that. That you’ll just tell him there’s nothing to be sorry for, even though he will always feel like there is. So he does what he always does, he decides to show you how sorry he is without his words. To remind you how here he truly is.

He cups your face in his hands gently, like you’re porcine glass that could break at any moment. He rests his forehead against yours, just reveling in the feeling of being close to you. He takes deep breaths and you follow, you’re basically breathing each other's air but you don’t even care, you want it that way. He kisses you sweetly, once, twice, three times. The fourth kiss is more firm, but still so gentle. Your fingers lace through his hair as you shift your body so you're straddling him. His tongue softly licks across your bottom lip and you immediately grant him access, tangling it with your own.

He kisses you leisurely, his tongue exploring every inch of your mouth as his hands roam your body. Your thin tank top is the only thing separating your skin from his but it feels like the thickest winter coat right now so you break the kiss to quickly pull it over your head. You press your chest against his, his skin against yours feels like a breath of fresh air and you sigh at the feeling.

“My beautiful girl, you’re so beautiful, I don’t know what I’d do without you.” His brown eyes are soft and filled with love as they look into yours. He gives you a gentle kiss before his lips start to travel down your jaw and neck. Gentle caresses of his lips and flicks of his tongue pull breathy gasps and needy moans from you. “Let me show you how much I love you.”

“Yes Eddie, please.” It’s all you need right now, you need him as close to you as possible in every way. You need him.

“Lay back for me baby.”

You oblige, rolling off him and onto your back. You situate your head on the pillows and he climbs over you with a sweet smile on his face.

“Look at you, you think I’d ever leave someone as sexy as you? Not a chance baby.” He leans down and kisses you, his ringed hand caresses your inner thigh and you shiver. He brings it to your core, running his knuckles along your underwear covered slit. “I don’t think I could go a day without you.”

“You went like… almost two months without me when we were healing.”

“Shhh… that’s besides the point, that was like forced, doctor ordered, celibacy and it was almost more torture than the healing process. Don’t remind me of the dark times, babe.” You giggle at him, your heart warming at him just being Eddie. He stayed that way, laughing and joking, making D&D references through it all.

“You’re so dramatic. But, you’re not wrong. I missed you so bad when I couldn’t have you.”

“You can have me now babe, all the time, forever, whenever you want. I’m not going anywhere.” He smirks at you as he pulls your panties down your legs, you kick them off your ankles and spread your legs for him. He groans at the sight of your slick pussy, bringing two long fingers and running them through your lips. You moan and your back arches off the bed when he inserts them inside you, immediately curving them to hit that perfect spot.

“Fuck.” His fingers thrust in and out of you at the perfect pace, his thumb comes up to circle your clit and he leans down to place gentle wet kisses along your throat. “Oh god.”

“Yeah baby? Is that good? You gonna cum for me?” His fingers speed up and he gently nips at that spot on your neck that makes you crazy, his cock ruts against your thigh and it sends you over the edge. Your body tensing underneath him as moans rip out of you. “That’s it, good girl.”

He fucks you through your high, only pulling his fingers from you when he feels your body relax. He holds eye contact with you as he inserts the digits into his mouth, sucking your juices off them with a groan.

“Eddie… I need to feel you, please.” You reach for the band of his sweatpants, tugging at the material.

“No need to beg sweets, I’ve got you, I’m gonna take care of you.” He pushes his pants off, freeing his cock and taking it into his hand, stroking it a few times. He runs the tip through your slick folds, bringing it up to circle your clit before slowly pushing inside you. Once his hips are flush against yours he connects your lips again, kissing you passionately.

“Oh fuck, Eddie. Yes.” He starts to roll his hips, not pulling out of you, just reveling in the feeling of being inside you. You clutch onto his back, pulling him down fully on top of you, just wanting to feel his weight on you.

“Mmm you feel so good, so so good, pussy is always so good for me.” He’s kissing every inch of you he can reach, your cheeks, eyelids, neck, collar bones. He finally pulls his hips back, slowly pulling his cock almost all the way out of you before shoving it deep inside you again. He repeats this action a few times before thrusting into you deep and hard. He still has his weight on you, and he’s not fucking you fast, just taking his time feeling every single part of you. With his hands, his cock, his lips,

“Eddie, I love you, I love you, you feel so good.”

“I love you so much baby girl, more than anything, I love fucking you.” He picks up the pace a little, his hand snakes between your bodies so he can rub your clit.

“Oh fuuuuck, yes, Eddie I’m - I’m gonna cum soon.”

“Yeah, cum for me, I wanna see your beautiful face when you cum undone on my cock.”

His lips crash against yours, his tongue immediately licking into your mouth, he’s hitting that perfect spot over and over again and his fingers continue to circle your clit. It’s all so good, and it sends you over the edge. Your orgasm crashes over you, you let out needy moans and gasps against Eddie’s mouth as your pussy clenches around him. He pulls away so he can see your face, and the sight has him spilling inside of you. He falls forward, his face buried in your neck. He places gentle kisses there in between panting breaths.

The position reminds you of the dream, the memory really, but this time it doesn’t sting, because Eddie is alive. He’s alive and he’s panting on top of you for the best reason, instead of the worst.

“Thank you.” You sigh, wrapping your arms around him, squeezing him tight. “I’m sorry for waking you up.”

“Psh! Don’t be sorry, I got to be here for my girl and I got to have bomb sex? Seems like a win win to me.” You feel him smile against your neck and it makes you laugh.

He rolls off of you onto his back, and you have to push the thoughts of that day from your mind again but you don’t have long to think about it because he’s pulling you into his chest, running his hands down your back and placing a kiss on the top of your head before your mind can fully go there.

“But in all seriousness, don’t be sorry, okay? You know I’m always here for you. No matter what. Especially on nights like this. I’m all in, always. I fucking love you so much. I’m not going anywhere.” He puts his fingers under your chin, tilting your face up to look at him. He smiles at you sweetly, placing a kiss on your nose, then your lips.

“I love you Eddie. I’m always here for you too. I’m never letting you go. Ever.”

You nuzzle into his chest, just happy to feel him. Just happy he’s alive. You might both be scarred, mentally and physically, and they might not ever fully heal. But at least you’ll always have each other.

[clockwayswrites]

A bitty bit and a poll... cw: post canon typical violence, blood, offer of smuttiness ship: Danny/Jason

“Danny.”

“Hood,” Danny said, pushing his hair back as he turned Jason’s way. His thumb ran over the shaved side of his head. A streak of blood trailed behind by the motion.

“What did they want?” Jason asked. He kicked at the side of one of the groaning thugs for emphasis as he strode over to Danny.

Danny just shrugged. “The usual.”

“Not supposed to be the usual in my territory,” Jason growled.

“Yeah, well,” Danny said with that crooked grin of his. There was something all the more feral about the grin that night between the blood and the way the harsh magenta neon that adorned the outside of Danny’s shop broke through the light rain. “I’m in that grey zone; not in one place or the other.”

“Shut the fuck up. You’re my mechanic so you’re my territory.”

Danny’s grin widened and he had the audacity to wink. “Kinky.”

“What did I say about shutting up?” Jason asked as he started to look Danny over for injuries.

Danny pliantly, and almost with amusement, let Jason check him over. When Jason found a cut on the other’s arm, he huffed, tossed the bloodied tire iron Danny was holding away, and started to roll up the sleeve of the black over shirt.

“It’s fine Hood, it’s nothing,” Danny said as he peered around Jason.

Without letting go of Danny’s arm, Jason pulled out a gun and twisted enough to point it at the thug who was helping the one Jason had kicked off the ground.

“This street is off limits.”

“Ain’t Crime Alley!” the one said, spitting blood. “Old Gotham is—”

“Right over there. This street? It’s mine,” Jason said. He cocked his gun for emphasis.

“It ain’t—”

“It ain’t worth dying over! Leave it!” the other thug hissed and tried to pull them away. “If fucking Red Hood says it’s his then it’s his! Now come on.”

“Make sure you take the rest with you,” Jason ordered. He kept his gun trained on them until they were long out of sight.

“Do I still have to shut up?” Danny asked cheekily into the silence. “Because I can think of some fun ways for you to make me.”

Jason turned slowly to look at Danny. “What.”

It wasn’t exactly a question. Jason knew what Danny was implying, but what?

Danny just shrugged, still with that smile. “Can’t a man thank his knight in leather armor? I mean, totally feel free to turn me down. I’m not going to pressure someone into that sort of thing, but I figured it didn’t hurt to offer. You seem like you’re a little tense—”

As if they weren’t just in a fight.

“—and could use the release. I’m not going to pretend that I would mind being between those thighs. So what do you say, wanna let me blow you?”

Danny might as well have hit Jason with that tire iron for how his thoughts scrambled at that offer. Who the fuck did that? Danny had no reason to. Jason already made clear that Danny was under his protection. Jason had also been ramping up the amount of work he gave to Danny versus handling himself. It wasn’t like the guy needed to offer sexual favors.

Jason shook his head, as if that would clear his confusion. “Next time or something. I’ve got work.”

“Sure, wouldn’t want to keep you,” Danny said and took a step back.

“Wrap that arm.”

“What arm?”

“Danny.”

Danny laughed and tucked his hands into his pockets as he backed up into his shop. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll wrap it. Go out there and take on the big bad night, hero.”

“I’m not a fucking hero,” Jason called after him. “And lock your damn door!”

Danny gave a cheeky salute before disappearing into the shop.

Brat.

---

AN: NOW, you all know by now, I'm sure, that I love playing around with how balanced Danny is as a half and his hair color and things like that. This is the new idea I was whining about earlier. It's going to be about as pwp as I'm able to get and supposedly a one shot. Danny is very, very forward, Jason is very, very confused (and later very, very satisfied). So all that said...

[heartfullofleeches]

my head is filled with thoughts of dkay and a darling who knew d’angelo and im gonna cry

mr devil u can’t do this to me

the heartbreak of your dear friend (or more 👀)’s personality being uploaded into a robot

it’s like they’re with you again but you can’t shake the uncanniness of it all

dkay jokes about d’angelo’s death and you can’t decide if it’s offensive or self deprecating

they’re so close but so far

The worst thing is joking about D'Angelo's death is exactly what he would've wanted-

"You crying over a dead guy already? You cry at my funeral and I'm coming back to haunt you until I see that smile again.... I know it's selfish of me to say that, but.... just trying to lift your spirits."

Laughter was the best medicine in D'Angelo's mind, especially as his condition took a turn for the worse. He knew dictating people's emotions was impossible, but also hated the sad looks from those he loved like he was already gone when he still had some fight in him. D.Kay has bits and pieces of D'Angelo's memories. Somewhere in that scrambled code they likely have recollections of a teary-eyed Darling laughing through the pain by their friend's bedside.

D.kay logically comes to the conclusion making fun of the human they're basically a copy of is the way into Darling's heart. It's what he would've done, after all-

The thing is D'Angelo knew where to stop the jokes. D.kay doesn't.

Slapping on some additional angst of the sweatshirt D.Kay wears being the same sweatshirt D'Angelo wore- He notices darling rubbing their arms indicating they're cold and wraps it around them while playfully scolding them about going somewhere without one- Prompting Darling to just break down sobbing because that's the first thing the android has done that's exactly what D'Angelo would've done

[lackadaisicallizard]

Sundays

Growing up, Regulus hated Sundays. 

Sundays were mornings spent in church, pretending to the world that they were a perfect family. Sundays were stuffy clothes and tight ties wrapped around throats spouting nothing but lies about the Ancient and Most Noble House of Black. 

Sundays were carefully coordinated games disguised as family lunches, the entire extended family coming together to outdo each other in just how well they were doing. Sundays were masterclasses in manipulation, lies and deceit. 

But now, fifteen years later on the most ordinary of all days, Regulus can hear voices coming from the kitchen. 

“I think that’s enough eggs, Haz, why don’t you add more flour now?” 

“How much do I need to add?” 

“I have no idea, just pour until it looks right.” 

Sliding on his slippers, Regulus makes his way out of the bedroom and down the hall, stopping in the doorway of the kitchen. He leans against the doorframe for a moment, watching the scene in front of him. 

“How’s it going there?” His husband peers into the mixing bowl that seems to have more eggs in it than any hen could feasibly lay in a year. 

“The flour won’t come out of the bag,” Harry says with a frown. 

“Try banging on the end of it,” James suggests and before Regulus can even consider stepping in to stop him, their son does just that. He is far too much like his father for his own good sometimes. 

Flour ends up everywhere. 

“Papa’s going to kill me,” Harry groans through a layer of white dust. 

“Papa doesn’t have to know,” James says, “you finish the batter and I’ll clean it up.” 

Harry stirs it, a puff of flour rising into the air. “I think it may be beyond saving now, Dad.” 

“J’en ai marre,” their heads whip around at the sound of Regulus’ voice, both faces a similar mask of concern. “You two are useless.” 

He steps into the kitchen now, holding out his hand for the bowl, which Harry passes him with a guilty expression. “I love you?” 

Regulus’ own expression softens completely at that and he places the bowl on the counter before holding out his arms for his son. Harry moves into them without hesitation, being pulled into a warm embrace and leaning into his father. “Tu es la lumière de ma vie,” Regulus says, pressing a kiss to the top of Harry’s soft curls before pulling back and looking at him in the eyes. “That doesn’t mean you can get flour all over my kitchen though, compris?” 

“Oui papa, désolé. We were just trying to make you breakfast in bed.” 

“It’s true,” James cuts in, a smile pulling up the corner of his lips, “we know you’ve had a long week so we thought we’d make some pancakes.” 

Regulus smiles back, he can’t help himself. “I’m not sure which one of you thought you could pull that off considering the great scrambled egg fiasco last month.” 

“Those eggs were delicious and you know it!” 

“I had to go to the store for more and make them myself.” 

“… my comment still stands,” James says with a grin and Regulus rolls his eyes at his husband. 

“Harry, go and fetch the chocolate chips from the cupboard and I’ll attempt to salvage this.” 

Harry disappears into the pantry and as Regulus starts to decanter as much flour as he can from the very floury bowl, he feels arms wrap around him from behind. 

“I’m sorry about the flour,” James’ voice is low in his ear. 

Regulus hums. “I would say I’m surprised, but I’m not.” 

A soft chuckle followed by lips against his hair. “I’m also sorry for ruining your Sunday, love. I know it’s the first day you’ve had off in a while.” 

But the thing is, he hasn’t. 

Because Regulus knows what a bad Sunday feels like. They’re ingrained into his brain. 

But this right here? Making far too much batter to even out the mountain of flour that he can’t salvage from the bowl. Allowing his son to add almost an entire bag of chocolate chips to the mixture. Watching his husband smother a tower of pancakes with syrup and whipped cream. Cleaning up an incredibly messy kitchen together as a family after they’ve done. 

Well, this is what Sundays are now. They’re not perfect, or proper, or in the least bit civilised. 

And he loves every one. 

[ladyhoneydarlinglove]

{one piece ficlet, usopp & zoro} brave

continuing my 'zoro is actually quite profound and also the bestest first mate ever' series with some usopp & zoro brotp content 😌 nami's is here for anyone interested; my goal is to do one of these for each straw hat member and then compile them into a bigger fic to post on ao3 so stay tuned for more!

Rating: G Notes: post time skip

~~~~~

The Thousand Sunny is about twenty-thousand meters into its descent to Fishman Island, which means the sea around them has turned pitch black save for the occasional colorful display of bioluminescent creatures that dwell within the deep. There’s one happening right now, a giant cloud of something blue and twinkly floating alongside the ship as it continues slowly downward. It reminds Usopp of stars on a clear night, and he’s having fun making up new constellations and stories to go along with them that he’ll tell to Chopper and Luffy later. 

So when Zoro comes by to relieve him from first watch, Usopp smiles and says, “Thanks, but I think I’ll stay a bit."

Zoro grunts, which Usopp takes to mean ‘suit yourself’. He settles against the railing next to the sniper, and for a long while, they stand there together in companionable silence. Usopp got better about that, in the two years he was away; sits better inside awkward spaces, doesn’t feel quite such an oppressive need to fill the quiet with babbled nonsense. So for perhaps the first time in their friendship, it’s Zoro who breaks the ice first.

“So. Plants, huh?” he says. It’s stilted and awkward and so terribly Zoro that Usopp can’t help but laugh.

“Plants,” he confirms with a solemn nod, happy when he sees Zoro’s lips twitch.

“What happened to working with dials?”

“Oh, I have those too!” Usopp says brightly, pulling an impact dial out of his belt for demonstration. “But they’re harder to find replacements for down here in the blue sea. The plants are easier because I can regrow them myself.”

Zoro nods. “Makes sense.”

His lips twitch again, like they’re trying to remember the shape of the wide, feral grins he so often sported before their two years apart. Usopp realizes he hasn’t actually seen Zoro smile like that since they set sail, but he doesn’t get time to dwell on that thought much because then Zoro says, “You must have a whole bunch of new tricks up your sleeve.”

At that, Usopp can’t help but beam. 

“Sure do!” he says, unable to contain his excitement. And then, because he can’t help himself, he starts talking; rattling off a whole list of new stars and pods and special ammos, things he was working on before that he perfected and new things he’s bringing to the table. It takes him a while to realize how long he’s been rambling, but when Usopp looks, Zoro’s still listening, his now single hazel-grey eye trained solely on the sniper. 

It makes Usopp grin and maybe even blush a little, to have Zoro’s attention so clearly focused on him like that, because he knows that Zoro doesn’t pay attention to things he doesn’t think are worth his time. So to be considered worthy—it means a lot.

“Who knows,” Usopp finds himself saying as he wraps up his diatribe, “maybe in the New World I’ll finally be able to call myself a Brave Warrior of the Sea.”

Zoro frowns then, brow furrowing deeply. “I never got why you said that,” he says, and Usopp blinks.

“You don’t get why I want to be a brave warrior?” he asks, confused.

Zoro shakes his head. “No, I mean I don’t get what you think you need to achieve when you say you want to be a brave warrior of the sea. You’re already brave.”

Usopp freezes, mouth falling open as he gapes at the swordsman. 

“M—Me?” he stutters, brain scrambling as he tries to figure out what’s happening, because clearly he’s missed something. “That’s not… Zoro, come on, be serious!”

He laughs a little to let Zoro know he’s in on whatever joke he’s trying to make, but Zoro’s frown just deepens further. 

“I am being serious.”

Usopp flails wildly for a moment, not even sure where to begin. “But… But I’m not… Zoro, come on. When… When have I ever been brave?” he asks in stunned confusion. “You know me, you know I’m—I’m scared shitless like, ninety-nine percent of the time!”

Zoro rolls his eyes, like he thinks Usopp is being stupid. “Exactly,” he says. “But you go out and you fight anyway. That doesn’t sound brave to you?”

Usopp has gotten hit with a Gum-Gum Pistol exactly once in his life. The force of it felt like it shattered every bone in his body, rearranged all of his internal organs, and knocked his brain around like a pinball. And he can confidently say that he was less rattled by that than what Zoro just said to him.

He tries to respond. It comes out as a completely unintelligible high-pitched garble that Zoro nonetheless seems to understand, because he sighs and says, “Usopp, being brave isn’t about being fearless. Being brave is about being ready to piss your pants over something and then doing it anyway. Fighting when you’re scared like that takes guts. You’re brave. Nami’s brave. Chopper’s brave. The rest of us? We’re just a bunch of idiots too dumb to remember what fear is. Sure we’re strong, but we’re not brave.”

Zoro levels him with what Usopp has mentally dubbed a Monster Trio Look—the kind that says ‘I’ve made up my mind; argue with me at your own peril.’ They pop up fairly frequently on Luffy, Zoro, and Sanji, but always for things like battles or tactical decisions or other, important things. Not for anything like this.

Not for telling Usopp that he’s brave.

It takes him a long, long time to respond. Thankfully Zoro doesn’t seem to mind the silence.

“I… I guess I never really thought about it like that,” Usopp finally manages, hoarse and maybe a little wobbly, and Zoro has the fucking audacity to roll his eyes again.

“Well, you should,” he grunts, and there’s a note of finality in his voice that tells Usopp the conversation is done and will not be revisited; Zoro’s mind is made up.

Grass is green. The sky is blue. Usopp is brave. Simple as that.

[scoobywrites690]

Was going to reread your fics and saw that you are looking for an idea… the airline freaking lost my luggage and it’s day 5 with no news and it sucks ass.

ANYWAYS what if reader also lost her luggage while she’s visiting johnny (pre relationship or maybe they’re just “friends”) and he goes feral seeing her in his clothes?

I’m so sorry that they lost your luggage and that they still can’t find it. Hopefully you get it back, I’m routing for you and your luggage 🤞🏻💕

Anyway though, this request is scrumptious. I love it. In my eyes Johnny’s a bit feral when it comes to anything to do with his partner/crush but you in his clothes 😫 you’re gonna kill the man.

(Btw I don’t really know how the airline deal with lost luggage so I’m not sure how they tell you I’m just making it up as I go)

Johnny seeing you in his clothes🤭

With the airline losing your luggage as well as multiple other people’s, your annual stay at Johnnys is almost a disaster. But it’s salvaged by the few clothes in your carryon and some of Johnnys old clothes that are a bit snug on him now.

Even though Johnny said it was fine for you to wear as many as you need, you still didn’t want to ransack his drawers. Trying to hold off as long as possible but, it came to the point where you couldn’t keep spraying your clothes down with perfume to mask that they’ve been worn more than once.

So, you gathered up the few worn pieces you had, threw them in the washer and wandered into Johnny’s room to find something to wear. Wandering around in just your underwear was fine at the moment as Johnny had gone to grab some snacks as you were planning to have some sort of movie night together.

Digging through his drawers has you pulling out a T-shirt that you pull over your head, the fabric stopping just at the tops of your thighs. Continuing your search for something for your bottom half.

“Fuck me, lass” is all you heard from the doorway of Johnny's bedroom. And there stands Johnny frozen still in the doorway, with his eyes wide looking like they’re about to pop out his head. As you stand in his room with nothing but an oversized T-shirt on and your lace panties slightly peaking out from the bottom.

"What are ya tryna kill me?" Johnny questions as you scramble around trying to cover yourself.

"I'm so sorry, Johnny" You stamper out "I didn't think you'd be back yet" You explain.

"It's alright, don't apologise. Just cover yourself up I'm beggin ya" Johnny says his voiced sounding strained as adverts his eyes. an obvious tent forming in his trousers.

"You okay Johnny?" You ask a teasing tone to your voice, deciding then and there that you'd test the waters a bit.

"I'm fine" he says almost sounding strained as he continues to look anywhere but at you. refusing to meet your gaze

"Johnny" You say taking a step towards him "I think you've got a problem" You say trying to hold in your laugh as you point to the raging hard on.

"Fuck, yes I know" Johnny's says, his face twisting up into one that could be described as pain "And you're not helping right now lass. Standing there in nothing but my shirt and those sexy little panties, fuck me it's like you're tryna kill me" Johnny says frustration lacing his voice.

You're not sure how it happened. It was all very much a blur but next thing you know you're on the bed, legs spread out wide showing off your pretty little cunt to johnny. He doesn't waste any time before he's diving in for a taste of the things he's been craving.

His tongue instantly glides in between your folds lapping at your sweet sweet juices. his mouth latching onto your clit has your hips jerking up at the sudden sensation. Strong burly arms wrapping around the tops of your thighs soon have that problem sorted, locking you in place so you can't wiggle away from him.

His chin most definitely dripping in a layer of your slick, but that doesn't stop him. he continues his assault. his fingers are able to slide into you so easily. pumping your poor little pussy until your squeezing around his fingers as your orgasm comes crashing down.

But he doesn't let you recover, not even wasting a second before he's pushing your legs back. knees pressed to your chest as he's sliding his tip past the entrance of your weeping hole. a sharp hiss leaving his mouth at the sudden warmth and tightness that engulfs his aching cock.

Hands coming down on either side of your head as he pushes himself down on top of you, folding you in half has him bottoming out inside of you.

"Fuck me, lass" Johnny says through gritted teeth as he pulls his hips back before snapping them back into you, his cock ramming deep inside your pussy.

"If I had known you'd have looked so good in my clothes. I would have had you in them ages ago" Johnny tells you as he lets his head nuzzle into the crook of your neck. His teeth graze at your skin before they're biting down onto the tender flesh that connects your shoulder to your neck.

You can't help but let the lewdest sounding moan escape past your lips. Your pussy clenching in reaction to the sharp pain of the bite.

"Don't do that, darlin" Johnny mutters coming up to meet your gaze "or i'll finish faster than I want to"

"Please Johnny" You whine out "I need it, please"

and that's all it took for Johnny to pick up the pace. His cock rammed in and out at a brutal pace. his tip hitting your cervix with every thrust. the sound of his hips connecting with the back of your thighs fills the room as Johnny bottoms out over and over again. Your pussy clenched so tightly around him that every vein can be felt rubbing against your walls sending your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

"i'll have you" - "In nothing but panties - "and my shirts" - "All the time" He says between thrust "And I'll fill" - "This pretty pussy" - "Full of my cum" - "Every time" He says as he thrust into you hard a few more times before hes spilling his seed inside you.

(I gave it a quick scan but i haven't properly proof read so i apologise for any mistakes)(not sure if he’s feral enough throughout this so I might have to redeem myself in the future)

[castle-of-ruin]

Reacher Comes to Visit 2

A/N: Alrighty folks. Here it is. Part 2. A smutty one. I'm so beyond nervous. This is my first ever smut piece. I hope that all of you enjoy this.

Pairing: Jack Reacher x f!reader

Warnings: p in v sex, unprotected sex (let's be realistic here it's fiction. I didn't do the right thing. Wrap it up!), lotsss of consent, oral (f!receiving).

Please please let me know if I missed any warnings!

I do not condone the copying of my work. Do NOT repost my work.

Reblogs, likes, and comments are all welcome. Again, I hope you enjoy.

Some visual inspiration for those who care.

The next morning, you awoke to an empty bed and empty house. You would expect nothing less. They had a job to finish, and you knew they were not sticking around long. Getting out of bed, you pull on some clothes and make your way to the kitchen. Much to your surprise, the place is spotless. A smile pulls at your lips. They might be a rough and tough bunch, but at their roots, they were good people. You laugh to yourself quietly as you imagine the four of them scrambling around your house and cleaning. Surely, Neagley was the one who orchestrated the whole thing. It was a heartwarming gesture, considering you may never see them again.

After fixing yourself a quick breakfast, you take the seat at the table and eat your food in peace. Reacher flashes in your mind more than once as you finish up your breakfast and put your plate in the sink. You didn’t know if you would ever see Reacher again, but every part of you wanted to. Something told you that he would be back, but you didn’t want to get your hopes up. Especially when you didn’t know if he was going to make it out of whatever mess he was in, alive. You shake your head, letting out a scoff. Knowing Reacher, he would be just fine. He was a great fighter and unbelievably strong. That much you had witnessed when he saved you.

The rest of the day went by rather quickly, and once again, you found yourself getting ready for bed. It was well after nine o’clock when you heard that familiar knock on your front door once more. A gasp escapes your lips as you pull open the door and reveal Reacher on the other side. He gives you a small smile and shrugs his shoulders.

“I know, I look like shit.” He states with a smirk.

You took in the blood along the collar of his shirt and the even bigger bruise under his left eye.

“You’re right. You do. Come on.” You yank him in by the sleeve of his jacket. He comes in without any restraint, allowing you to guide him to the bathroom.

“Take that off,” you instruct.

The jacket slides off his shoulders as he shrugs out of it. You could have sworn you heard him wince but didn’t bring it up. Your eyes widen at the gash on his side, peeking through the holes on his shirt and the small cut on his neck. Whatever happened, he got beat to hell and back.

“Shit, I’m surprised you’re still standing, big guy.” You dab at the cut above his eye.

His hands grip your hips tightly, pulling you close to him.

“I can’t help you if you’re holding onto me, Reach.” You tell him as you stand between his legs.

Reacher pushes you back slightly and looks up at you. He didn’t need to speak to tell you he didn’t care about his wounds. That wasn’t why he was there. No, it was his want to hold you true to that promise you made him last night. Your hands rest easy on his shoulders as the two of you stare each other down in your small bathroom. Slowly, you allow yourself to place your hands on his cheeks, and he closes his eyes for a brief moment. He needs this just as badly as you do.

“Can I?” You ask, eyes drifting to his lips for a moment.

“Yes,”

Leaning in, you kiss him, this time with more fervor than before. His grip on your hips tightens, as if that's possible, and he stands towering above you. You can feel the countertop pressing into your lower back as he leans into you. Slowly, but surely, he backs you into your bedroom, not breaking the kiss for a moment.

Finding the hem of his shirt with shaky fingers, you tug at it softly, signaling to him what you want, asking for permission. Before you can verbally ask him, his shirt is flying into the other corner of the room. You laugh quietly and squeal when his hands find your ass and he lifts you in the air. Wrapping your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck, you kiss him again. Getting lost in the way his stubble scratches against your cheeks or the way his skin was so warm, you could feel the warmth through your blue jeans.

Reacher places you on the bed hovering above you briefly before attacking your lips once more.

“Let’s take this off, yeah?” He asks, fingers easing beneath your shirt.

You nod, giving him the okay. He pulls the shirt over your head and throws it across the room, and it lands with a loud thud. Reacher removes himself from you long enough to unbutton his pants and pull them off before he’s right back between your legs. You bite your lip as his black boxers hide no part of him.

The button on your pants pops open easily in your fingers, and you shimmy out of them. Reacher helps you get them off your ankles and drops them. Warm fingertips trace up your thighs, over your hips, and along your sides before Reacher hooks around behind you and undoes your bra. You shiver, as cool air wraps around your newly exposed skin. The chill is soon replaced by Reacher’s warm mouth as he uses his tongue to play with your nipples. Soft pants fall from your lips as you wrap your arms around his neck once more.

“Fuck,” You moan out.

Reacher hums against your skin.

“This is not the time for you to tease me, Reacher.” You practically growl.

You feel him chuckle against you. Instead of listening to you, Reacher moves down your body, littering your skin in kisses. His fingers slip beneath the waistband of your panties, and he looks up to you for a brief moment, asking quiet permission to take them off. You nod, and that's all he needs to practically rip them off you. Before you can adjust to the cool air his tongue finds your clit and you buck against him. Instinctively grinding your hips in unison with his tongue. Your moans grew louder as he worked at you longer, his large fingers toying inside of you. As you grow closer to release the warmth is ripped away when Reacher stands up once more. You almost protest, but stop when he rids himself of his boxers finally and comes back to you.

You watch as he runs his hand the length of his abdomen before settling on his cock. He strokes his cock in his fist a few times before running the head of his cock through your slick folds. A moan falls past your lips as he thrusts into you. Slow at first as he allows you to adjust to him, and he finds his rhythm. His hands hold your hips down as he thrusts into you, his pace picking up. Reacher drops his head into the crook of your neck and moans quietly. He bites down softly on the sensitive skin of your neck and you gasp.

Once again you wrap your arms around his neck as he fucks into you. He kisses you roughly as his thrusts meet yours. Moans fill the room as you feel yourself inching closer to your impending orgasm. A gasp falls past your lips when he lifts your leg, changing the angle in which he thrusts into you.

“Fuck,” You groan as he slows his pace with the new position.

Every delicious drag of his cock had shudders rippling through you. Cursing again, you pant out his name and close your eyes, the euphoria building in the pit of your stomach almost too much to bear.

“Look at me,” He instructs, gripping your chin softly.

Opening your eyes, you look at him, taking in the way his breathing labored, the way his pupils were blown out of proportion, and his green eyes were much darker than normal. He kisses you again, this time softer than before, but still just as bruising. Heat pooled in the pit of your abdomen as Reacher’s pace increased again. You were aware of each slow drag of his hips and counter thrust as he held you close as he neared his own release.

The coil in your stomach snaps, and you come, clenching around him as your orgasm wracks through your body. Not far behind you, Reacher finds his own release and collapses beside you. Spent you curl yourself up beside him and snuggle into his side, wanting to stay this way for as long as you could.

After laying there quietly with one another for some time, you prop yourself up on your elbow and take him in once more. His breaths were even once more, and his eyes drooped with exhaustion. Surely, he was exhausted after the day he had.

He surprises you by turning to face you. “I won’t wait two years to come back next time.” He murmurs, barely loud enough for you to hear.

“I’d like that.” You tell him, placing your hand on his shoulder and leaning in to kiss him again.

He pulls you close and holds you tightly, and as you drift off the sleep, he presses a kiss to the side of your head. Today was the day things would change, and for the better.

No pressure tagging some of the mutuals: @xxidontwikeitxx @cryingwriter @supernaturaldawning @gemstone-roses @a-reader-and-a-writer @quaritchscupquake

[yxtubers]

𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞

chris sturniolo x reader (fluff)

summary: chris tries to ease your worries as you try to find the perfect outfit

warnings/notes: mentions of insecurity, low self esteem

requested?: yes! number 24 “if only you could see yourself the way i do” and number 18 “can i have one more?” from my prompt list. @rainsoakedphoenix

> > >

Chris was waiting for you downstairs as you scrambled through a big pile of clothes, attempting to find something perfect to wear.

You were all going to dinner to celebrate the release of their new podcast. It was supposedly going to be huge - pretty much all their friends would be there. You haven’t met them all yet, so this was your chance to make a good first impression.

Chris had tried to calm you down countless times but you weren’t having any of it. This needed to be perfect.

Pulling on a pair of jeans you recently bought you moved to look at yourself in the mirror. Something seemed off about it.

When you had tried it on in the dressing room it was flawless, but now you felt lumpy and weird. It hugged you in all the wrong places and you felt like you couldn’t breathe in them.

Huffing, you unbuttoned them at the speed of light and threw them across your room, annoyed.

“Everything okay up there?” came Chris’ voice.

Throwing on a pair of cargos you stared at yourself in the mirror once more. You grew more and more agitated by the second - why did everything look so… weird on you?

You groaned as Chris gently pushed the door open, his head peeking in to see what all the fuss was about. His eyes darted from corner to corner, seeing the mess that you made while trying to look for an outfit. He immediately understood.

“Can’t find anything to wear?” he asked, standing behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist.

His eyes studied you in the mirror, trailing across your collarbone and hair, admiring the way your legs looked in these pants.

“I can find something to wear - I just look atrocious in all of them!” you said.

You were angry and upset. Even his comforting arms encircling you felt claustrophobic. You never understood what he saw in you - could he not see what you saw in the mirror? How could he stand to look at you? How could his perfect hands ever touch you so gently when you felt like the worst person in existence?

“I think you look good in those,” he responded quietly.

Moving away from him, you go to sit on your floor, continuing your search for something that would make you bearable to look at.

Rooting through the mounds and piles of fabric, your heart began to race. You had gone through almost everything in your closet and still nothing was good enough.

Digging your palms into your eyelids, you tried to push back the onslaught of tears that threatened to break out.

Chris, sensing your discomfort, walked slowly towards you. Sitting next to you, he rubbed your shoulder.

With his other hand he picked up a black top. It was his favorite, he always complimented you when you wore it. In his eyes you were absolutely breathtaking - and he wished he could make you see that.

“Don’t cry,” he coo’d, “How about this one? You know I love when you wear it.”

His attempts at easing your insecurities only made your tears fall faster. You hated yourself for feeling like this. Today was his special day and you were ruining it by being a crybaby.

“I look disgusting,” your voice quivered. Taking your hands away from your face, you looked around once more, desperate to just put something on and go about your day.

Chris rests his fingertips against your jaw, tilting your head towards him.

His own eyes welled with tears. He had never heard you talk about yourself like that - and it hurt. It hurt him to know that someone as amazing as you could ever talk down on yourself. He remembered each moment that his heart fluttered upon seeing your smile, and the heat that pooled in his cheeks whenever you’d wear that one sundress that he liked.

“Don’t say that about my girlfriend,” he said, a sad smile playing on his lips.

Sniffling, you lifted your eyes to meet his.

“You are so beautiful,” he whispered. “If only you could see yourself the way I do. Everything about you is perfect. The way your eyes light up when you talk about something you love, your adorable laugh when I make a stupid joke. God, even when you cry you look drop-dead gorgeous. Why can’t you understand that?”

Cupping your face in his hand and wiping your tears away, he continued.

“I think you’re the most beautiful girl in the world, and I’m the luckiest guy ever because I get to see this pretty face everyday.”

You nuzzled your head in his palm, finally calming down. Maybe you didn’t feel like the prettiest girl in the world, but Chris sure made you feel like it.

“I’m sorry for ruining everything,” you said.

You’re not fully sure what you even meant, but he seemed to understand.

“You didn’t ruin anything, okay? I’ll always be here for you.”

Throwing the shirt onto the bed, he offered you his hand, lifting you up from the ground.

“Now let’s get you dressed, yeah?” he said, picking the piece of fabric up.

Looking at your disheveled state, his heart broke. Your eyes were red and wet with unshed tears. Your fingers twiddled as you stared at the ground, your embarrassment evident. He wished he could take it all away.

“C’mere,” he said. He wrapped a hand around the back of your neck, massaging the sides with his thumb. Another hand moved to gently tug your waist towards him, careful to not make you uncomfortable.

His lips were against yours in mere seconds.

He tried to pour all his love into the one kiss, hoping and praying that you could feel how much he adored you. Once he pulled away, he noticed the smile growing on your face.

You loved when he kissed you like that. Like you were the only person in the world - like if he let you go, you would disappear.

“There’s that pretty smile!”

Blushing, you buried your head in his chest. He rubbed your back rhythmically, his fingers brushed against your shoulder blades and moved down to the small of your back.

You raised your head to look at him.

“Can I have one more?” you said, voice barely above a whisper.

Chris grinned stupidly at you. He found it so endearing that even after all this time, you were still so shy to ask for affection.

“You can have as many as you’d like.”

And with that, his lips pressed against yours once more. Somehow he was softer this time, his hands grabbing your face to keep you in place. If he could kiss you forever he would.

He brushed his lips across your jaw now, earning a sigh from you.

“Just one more,” he said before adding another peck to the side of your neck.

Moving your hair to the side, he kissed down to your collarbone.

“Mm, one more,” he repeated.

Now moving to the back of your ear, he pressed little silent promises of love across your skin. Nose brushing against your throat, he moved to the other side of your neck.

“One more, baby, I promise.”

As he left open-mouthed kisses across your neck, you felt like a damn goddess. Maybe one day you would be able to see what he sees. Your hums made his heart race as he lifted his lips back to kiss you one last time.

His pupils were dilated as he gave you a goofy smile, his eyes trained straight onto yours. Pushing you to sit on the bed, he helped you pick out your outfit, finally satisfied with the cute little smile you had plastered on your face.

How could you ever think you’re not good enough when he treated you like you were the best thing that ever happened to him?

- - -

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭:

@lollibumblebee

@d0wnt0wnstu4n1ol0

[thesturniolos]

tiny red dress pt 2

m. sturniolo x reader

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★

you can find the part 1 here !!

you’ve been fed sorry it took so long <3

y’all know the warnings, my last one got hidden 😫😫

tags: @strniohoeee @sturniolopepsi @strawberrysturniolo @sturnsbaby @sturniolossmut @sturnioloswife @mattslolita @mattsgirlforeva @malsturns @mattsgirlforeva @chrisdevora @christinarowie332 @kirby0strombolli @klarasmith @freshlovehacker @sturniolosstar @sturnioloss @mattsturniolos @chrisolivia4l @chrissturniolosbf @mattsturniolos @mattsturniolosgf

his hand wraps around my throat and pushes me against the wall, i gasp slightly from the sudden harsh contact and his piercing dark eyes staring me down.

the car ride had been tense after he’d said that and his hand had made its way in between my thighs, prying them away to stop me from moving them. it never stopped the throb underneath my clothes though.

“you just love to push my buttons, don’t you?” i struggle to find the words, not because of his grip on my neck but because he was so close and the way he looked at me made the ache in my pussy intensify and all i could do was whimper. i was desperate, for anything.

“that’s all you got? that’s pathetic.” he slaps me around the face and grabs my jaw to maintain eye contact, looking at me sympathetically, a facade to make fun of my vulnerable self.

i was like jelly in his hands, i would do anything for him. i didn’t even care about him touching me, making him feel good was enough to send me straight off the edge.

“please, i need you.” i plead and he smiles back at me, shaking his head. his hand on my jaw moves gently across to my lip as he pushes down and opens my mouth, my lips wrap around his thumb sucking slightly.

“yeah? you need me?” he watches as my tongue swirls around his finger and i close my eyes, wishing it was something else. my hips push up from against the wall and i feel his hand wrap around my waist, pulling me closer to him.

i nod and he quickly picks me up, my legs wrapping around his waist, as he takes me into our bedroom dropping me onto the bed as i stare up at him, my elbows holding me up.

“why are those still on? take them off.” he orders, as he sits on his chair, a little away from me on the bed on my own. he unbuckles his belt and leans back, watching me.”

i nod going to take off my dress but hesitate as i trail the straps down my shoulders. looking up at matt, “but you usually take these off-“

“do you want me to do everything? fucking do it, brat.” i quickly scramble to take off the tiny red dress and heels, kicking them to the floor, leaving me in a matching red set i bought a week prior, hoping this would happen at some point.

i sit patiently on the bed and wait for matt to walk over from his chair and do something, anything. but he doesn’t. he’s leaned back and staring right back at me, belt unbuckled and zipper undone. he looks so unbothered, different to his usual controlling self where he is quick to put his hands all over me.

“show me where you want me.” i slowly trail my hand down to slip it under my red panties, a dark spot especially for matt had formed in the middle. one finger, a single moment of pressure was enough to take my breath away. hours of tension, a knot in my stomach begging to be released.

i rub slowly at first but quickly increase my speed, desperate to finally get what i’ve wanted for what feels like an eternity now. i look up at matt, to see his brows furrowed and his hips bucking up slightly.

in seeing his reaction, i decided to play with him in return for him stopping me in the car and for causing such a scene at the party, he can’t get away with everything.

i throw my head back and groan, my hair falling from my shoulders and my eyes rolling back. i pull my panties aside so he can see my pussy, glistening with my wetness, sliding my fingers up and down.

at the sound of matt’s slight groans, i push a finger inside and pull it in and out at an agonising rate. i wanted an orgasm but it wasn’t the same without his touch, no matter how long it took.

he shakes his head looking down at me, the opening of his jeans revealing his grey boxers that drove me crazy, the pool in my panties becoming more prominent as he stares at me, his hand coming to the straps of my bra as he pulls them down.

it was silent, nothing but my fast breathing and the ring of matt’s keys against the buckle of his belt. he was acting so nonchalant, whilst i squirm with rosy cheeks and a raving heart.

his face was inches away from mine, he stares down at my lips before smashing his against mine, our tongues chasing one another, our breathing becoming desperate laboured.

my hands desperately grab at the hairs at the back of his head, pulling them slightly as his arm grips onto the naked skin of my back and pushes me closer to his clothed body. i groan into the kiss as i feel his raging boner against my pussy.

he flips us over so i’m sitting on top of him and suddenly i feel incredibly exposed, me being nearly naked whilst he has layers on. i break away from the kiss to pull at his shirt in which he grabs the hem and pulls it off in one clean sweep. my hands instinctively dragging against his abs as he winces, the chill of my hands on his burning skin, so much for his calm self.

we connect our lips, once again just as hungrily and the saliva runs from my mouth, down to my chin, onto my chest. i slowly grind my hips on his lap, the heat from my core now becoming increasingly hard to deal with.

“be patient, don’t be a little slut.” i shake my head, looking up, begging for someone- anything- to help me with the throbbing pain in my clit.

“i need you now, matt.” i pry at his jeans, hoping to pull them down to reveal what i really wanted. i didn’t care about the consequences, or the denied orgasms, try and stop me.

“you think you’re the one in charge around here?” he pushes my legs off his lap to push down his jeans and i sigh in relief as i see the huge wet patch on his boxers and his throbbing erection, my eyes lightening up, practically drooling at the sight.

i’m quick to grab onto the hem of his underwear, hoping to pull them down to but he grabs my head, pushing me up as he whips out his cock from his boxers instead of me and without any warning, pushes my head onto his dick, my throat closing around most of it.

my eyes widen, filling with water almost instantly. my gag reflex screaming at me, as i desperately try to pull back. “this is what you asked for. don’t act all pussy now. be a good girl for your daddy.”

and at those words, the saliva dripping from my mouth pools down to the bottom of his dick, his hand still pushing me from the back as i hollow my cheeks and my tongue lays flat against the veins of his cock. i look up to see matt with his head thrown back, only motivating me to go further if it was even possible.

i bounce my head up and down as matt pushes his hips up into my throat, thrusting desperately into me. straggled moans coming from my mouth convert instantly to vibrations which cause matt to open his mouth and practically shout profanities.

“i’m gonna cum- doin’ so good babe.” both his hands supporting me now as he pushes me to bottom out on his cock, filling my whole throat with his huge dick.

seconds later, i gasp for air as he cums straight down my throat, as i swallow it all - not a single drop wasted as i lick it all up.

“such a good girl for me, what a shame you’re not always like this” he pulls me off my knees and raises his head to take one of my nipples into his mouth. i gasp as he sucks and tugs at the bud, i’m scratching at his back desperately now.

“oh fuck- i promise i will be” my eyes rolling back as he trails onto the other one, grabbing and squeezing harshly at my tits, spitting onto them and licking it up.

he flips us over, me being on the bottom. my arms to my sides and my hair spreading across the pillows with his hands next to my head, peering down at me. his tongue slides across his teeth, looking at my body up and down, he looked hungry.

“you know our safe word?” i nod and i know this about to be real good but i’m also scared because he’s so fucking big and sometimes it’s like he doesn’t even realise.

his jeans and boxers are fully off now as are my undergarments, they’re scattered everywhere on the floor. flashes of red, grey and black, lace and cotton, it’s pure desperation.

he connects his lips to my neck and my eyes flutter shut, the feeling of his cold rings against my bare skin and how he sucks on my neck was all so much.

without no warning, no adjusting, he rams into me mercilessly at a rapid pace. my head shooting up instantly, mouth agape and boobs bouncing from the sudden impact.

he’s frowning, looking down to where we’re connected and clearly not satisfied as he thrusts deeper into me, making my whole body slide up the bed, my hands scrambling to find anything to grip onto.

the knot in my stomach is so loose and i’m ready to cum but i’m not ready to give up what ever this is because it’s overwhelmingly good.

women dream for this, this kind of treatment, the popping veins and the length matt keeps hidden his pants. it was times like this that made me go wild for him, how our skin slaps together and how his bulge was visible in my stomach.

“open your mouth.” he somehow manages to utter whilst pounding me relentlessly, no change in pace or rhythm- the man knows what he’s doing. i do as he says and he spits into my mouth. i feel it drip to the back of my throat and instinctively i swallow, making him grin and fasten his thrusts, if that was even possible.

sweat dripped from both our foreheads and it didn’t take long before i was begging for his blessing to let go, it was like a ball of fire in my stomach, like a volcano waiting for one singular rock to tip it right over the edge.

except i had no control of when i was gonna explode and the pit in my stomach released without no warning, a stream of liquid spraying from my pussy, all over matt and the sheets. my head was thrown back onto the pillow as far as it fucking could go and the moans that had been suppressed for so long could be heard from down the end of the street.

matt stared in awe at me as he kept on with his thrusts, catching up to his high which didn’t take long before he shot his huge load into me, painting my walls the most innocent white.

my chest rose up and down, desperate to catch my breath as i look down to see the mess i caused.

“jesus christ, you fucking squirted baby.” i was too tired to even think about what i’d done but i did know it made matt very happy and that was enough for me.

i was too sensitive to even clean myself up, my legs not letting me move one inch. we only went one round but that was enough to limit me to only the bed for a few days, the agonising wait is to blame for that.

“from now on, that dress is used for the bedroom and the bedroom only.”

[zeroseuniverse]

Trouble

Word Count:1.5K Summary: Her lips twitched into a smirk. “You think I’m the hero type?” Jungkook snorted from his post. “Hero? No. Trouble? Definitely.” “Again with the trouble,” She shot back, her grin widening despite herself. “I’m starting to think you like having me around.” Pairing: Jimin X Reader X Taehyung X Jungkook

Disclaimer: Please be aware that this is apart of the from the ashes series. This series will have aspects of violence, weapons, angst, blood, injuries, killing, and will heavily focus on oppression and segregation of mutants, Look after your mental state if any of these make you uncomfortable please.

Series Masterlist

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The clinic was chaotic, as always. Taehyung’s voice cut through the tense air, issuing sharp instructions to the assistants scrambling to keep up. Jimin moved like a ghost between patients, his touch soothing pain and panic with a quiet intensity. Jungkook was perched on the edge of a battered supply cabinet, his sleeves rolled up and his sharp eyes scanning the room for threats or opportunities to step in.

Then came the clamor from the entrance—shouts, hurried footsteps, and the unmistakable sound of a body hitting the floor. Jungkook leapt to his feet, Taehyung and Jimin freezing mid-task.

“Another one,” Jungkook muttered, already moving. “They better not bleed all over the floor again.”

The three of them reached the makeshift triage area just as a figure slumped against the cracked wall. Her ragged breath filled the room as she tried—and failed—to push herself upright. Blood streaked her side, soaking through a torn jacket.

“Move,” Taehyung barked, already assessing her injuries.

But instead of groans of pain or pleas for help, they were greeted with an unmistakable cheek.

“Well, isn’t this a welcoming party,” She said, flashing a wobbly grin. “Didn’t know I’d be getting the royal treatment.”

Jungkook snorted, arms crossed as he leaned against the wall. “You’ve got a real mouth on you for someone who can’t stand.”

“Try it, sweetheart,” she shot back, her voice dripping with humor. “I’ll still out-talk you from the ground.”

Jimin knelt beside her, his touch careful as he began stabilizing her wound. “She’s cheeky,” he murmured, more to himself than anyone else.

“She’s bleeding all over my clinic,” Taehyung snapped, though his hands were already moving with precision.

Despite the pain etched into her face, She winked at Jimin. “I could get used to you.”

Jimin blinked, flustered, while Jungkook and Taehyung exchanged looks.

“She’s trouble,” Jungkook said flatly.

“No kidding,” Taehyung muttered, though his hands never faltered.

As they worked, her charm never faltered either, her humor weaving through every quip, even as she winced under their care. But beneath the surface, they all recognized it—a resilience that burned bright, unyielding despite the cruel world that had battered her.

And for reasons they couldn’t quite place, none of them wanted to extinguish that fire.

Jimin’s touch was steady as he cleaned the blood from her side, his hands radiating a soothing warmth that momentarily dulled the pain. Her bravado faltered for the first time, a sharp intake of breath escaping her lips. Jimin looked up, his expression gentle but probing.

“You don’t have to keep up the act, you know,” he said softly. “It’s okay to just... breathe.”

She blinked, her grin faltering before she huffed out a laugh. “What can I say? Old habits die hard.”

Taehyung’s sharp voice cut through the moment. “And those habits are going to get you killed one day.”

She turned her head toward him, arching a brow. “Haven’t yet, doc. Guess that means I’m doing something right.”

“You’re doing something stupid,” Taehyung countered, wrapping a bandage around her side with practiced efficiency. “You’re lucky you didn’t bleed out before you got here.”

“Lucky or stubborn,” She quipped, her lips twitching into a smirk. “Probably both.”

Jungkook leaned against the wall, his arms crossed as he watched the exchange. “Stubborn, for sure. You’re the kind who’d crawl in here with both legs missing just to make a point.”

She winked at him. “Only if it meant I’d get to see that charming face of yours.”

Jungkook’s stoic mask cracked for a fraction of a second, a ghost of a smile tugging at his lips. “Flattery won’t get you out of trouble.”

“Oh, but it’s working,” she teased, despite the wince that accompanied Taehyung’s final tug on the bandage.

“She’s stabilized,” Taehyung announced, stepping back and rolling his shoulders. “But she’s not going anywhere for a while.”

Her grin widened. “Guess I’ll be your guest, then. Hope you’ve got good room service.”

Taehyung groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Don’t make me regret patching you up.”

Jimin chuckled under his breath, adjusting her position so she could sit more comfortably. “You’re lucky we’re used to trouble around here.”

Her gaze softened as she looked at Jimin. “You’re too nice for this place, you know that?”

“And you’re too reckless for any place,” Taehyung muttered, already cleaning up the supplies.

Jungkook’s sharp eyes lingered on her for a beat longer, something unreadable flickering across his face before he straightened. “She’s not just reckless,” he said quietly. “She’s running from something.”

Her smirk faltered, and her gaze darted to Jungkook. For the first time, her charm didn’t come as easily.

“Who isn’t, in this world?” she said, her tone lighter than her eyes.

The room fell silent, the weight of her words settling over them. Jimin glanced between her and Jungkook, concern etched into his features. Taehyung’s movements slowed, his back turned as he processed the implication.

Jungkook stepped closer, crouching to meet her eyes. “You’ve got people after you, don’t you?”

She hesitated, her grin finally slipping away entirely. “Maybe,” she admitted. “But if they come here, it’s not your problem. I’ll deal with it.”

“Not anymore,” Taehyung said firmly, turning to face her. “You brought it to our doorstep. That makes it our problem.”

“And we don’t abandon our patients,” Jimin added, his voice gentle but resolute.

She stared at them, her bravado gone and replaced by something raw and vulnerable. “You don’t even know me.”

Jungkook stood, his expression unreadable. “Maybe not. But we know trouble. And for some reason, we don’t mind keeping yours around.”

For the first time in a long time, she didn’t have a response. Instead, she leaned back against the wall, letting their words sink in as the chaos of the clinic swirled around them.

The tension in the room lingered, but the trio didn’t give her much time to dwell on it. Taehyung was already issuing orders to the assistants, his voice brisk and authoritative. Jimin gently helped her shift into a more comfortable position, his hands never losing their steady gentleness. Jungkook lingered near the entrance, his sharp eyes scanning the chaotic clinic.

“Alright,” Taehyung said, wiping his hands clean on a stained rag. “You’re stable for now, but if you don’t rest, you’ll tear those stitches and undo all my work.”

She rolled her eyes, the faintest hint of her usual cheekiness returning. “I’ll be the picture of obedience, doc.”

“Somehow, I doubt that,” he muttered, shaking his head. “Jimin, keep an eye on her. Jungkook, I need you—”

“Hold up,” She interrupted, her tone laced with suspicion. “What exactly do you mean by ‘keep an eye on her’?”

Jimin chuckled softly. “Relax. I’ll just make sure you don’t try to play hero and get up too soon.”

Her lips twitched into a smirk. “You think I’m the hero type?”

Jungkook snorted from his post. “Hero? No. Trouble? Definitely.”

“Again with the trouble,” She shot back, her grin widening despite herself. “I’m starting to think you like having me around.”

“Let’s not push it,” Taehyung said dryly, though a hint of amusement flickered in his eyes. “Now, Jungkook, there’s a group coming in from Sector Seven. They’ve been delayed, and I want you to check on them.”

Jungkook hesitated, his gaze flicking to her. “You sure that’s a good idea? If she’s running from something, someone’s bound to come looking.”

“And if they do,” Taehyung said, his voice steely, “we’ll handle it. Go.”

Reluctantly, Jungkook pushed off the wall and made his way to the door. He paused just before stepping out, glancing back at her. “Don’t get too comfortable. This isn’t a free ride.”

She gave him a mock salute. “Yes, sir.”

With a shake of his head, Jungkook disappeared into the chaos outside.

Taehyung turned back to her, his expression serious. “I mean it. Rest. You won’t be any use to anyone if you push yourself too soon.”

“And if I decide to push myself anyway?” she asked, one brow arched.

“Then you’ll deal with me,” Taehyung replied, his tone leaving no room for argument.

She held his gaze for a moment before leaning back with a shrug. “Fine. But only because you asked so nicely.”

Taehyung let out a long-suffering sigh before stalking off, leaving Jimin to tend to her.

Jimin sat down on a nearby stool, his gaze soft but searching as he looked at her “You really should take it easy. Taehyung’s rough around the edges, but he knows what he’s doing.”

She studied him for a moment, her smile dimming. “You’re not used to people like me, are you?”

Jimin tilted his head, considering her words. “People who act like they don’t need help? I’ve met a few.”

“And?” she prompted.

“And most of them do,” he said simply, his voice quiet but certain. “They just don’t know how to ask.”

She looked away, her fingers idly tracing the edge of the cot she was sitting on. “Guess you’ve got me all figured out, huh?”

“Not yet,” Jimin said, a small smile playing on his lips. “But I think I’d like to.”

For once, she had no quip, no sharp comeback. Instead, she let the moment hang between them, the chaos of the clinic fading into the background.

[myveryownfanfiction]

18+ MINORS AND THOSE WITHOUT AGE IN BIO DNI

tags: @illiana-mystery

warnings: swearing

AN: happy ghostbusters day!

I hummed happily when ray kissed my head. I rolled over and wrapped my arms around his neck. Ray chuckled before kissing me softly.

“I’m sorry I woke you.” He whispered. I ran my fingers through his hair and shook my head.

“Don’t be.” I mumbled, sleepily nuzzling into him. “I’m glad you’re home.” Ray hugged me tightly as he climbed into bed. “What was it anyway? Why didn’t you want me to go?”

“Gozer.” Ray said, waking me up.

“what?” I asked, sitting up. Ray nodded. “Gozer?!” He nodded again. “Please tell me that it’s finally taken care of.”

“yeah. Gone for good this time.” Ray confirmed.

“and the traveler?” I asked, fingers curling into his shirt. He didn’t say anything. “Raymond, tell me there wasn’t…”

“it was one time and i panicked and i thought it was going to be…not that bad.” Ray said. I rolled my eyes.

“not what I meant.” I said. “Was there a traveler?”

“not this time.” Ray said, kissing my forehead. I gave him a look. “I’m serious. There was no traveler this time.” I nodded and curled up against him.

“I’m glad you’re home. And safe.” I said, starting to drift off. Ray kissed my head again. The next morning, I got up and went to make coffee while ray slept in. He’d gotten in late and I didn’t want to force him up if I didn’t have to. I grabbed my cup and poured the coffee. I turned around to grab something from the fridge when I heard something behind me. I turned back to my cup and screamed. There was what looking like a miniature sized stay puft marshmallow man in my cup. It flipped over and waved at me before it started melting. I screamed again and scrambled back from the counter.

“what?” Ray asked as he came running into the room. “What’s wrong? Is it slimer again?” I shook my head and pointed at my cup, where a semi melted stay puft was still floating. “Oh.” Ray muttered, turning around to look at me with a sheepish look.

“Raymond!” I cried. “What the fuck is that? Why is there a tiny stay puft…” I noticed another one toddling along the windowsill. “Tiny stay pufts…” I stared at them wide eyed before looking at ray again. “Raymond Francis stantz!” I yelled. “For fucks sake! What did you do? I thought you said there wasn’t a traveler!”

“there wasn’t.” He shrugged. I opened my mouth but no sound came out. “There wasn’t. I don’t know what these are. They just kind of started happening.”

“But…it’s not…you can’t keep them ray!” I seethed. His face fell and I felt bad for a second.

“why not?” He asked, clearly upset. I ran a hand down my face.

“because we don’t know what they are or where they came from. Or what they can do.” I sighed. Ray turned back to the small group walking around our counter.

“right.” He perked up. “And we never will until I study them!”

“ray, no.” I said. “Sweetie no. You can’t…” ray stepped towards me and put his hands on my arms.

“just think…”

“no…”

“what it could mean…”

“It’s dangerous…”

“just a couple days…”

“you’re not egon.” I sighed. His face fell. “Ray I know you want to find the answer to everything. But you can’t. And that’s the beauty of our work. It’s ever changing and elusive. But this…” I waved a hand towards the marshmallows currently doing the Conga. “It’s dangerous ray.” I put my hands on his chest as he sighed. “Ray…wait a minute. What were you going to do with them after you finished your research?” I narrowed my eyes at him as ray tried to step back. I held onto his shirt and tugged him back. “Raymond.”

“well uh.” He started. I let my head fall against his shoulder.

“You were going to keep them as pets weren’t you?” I sighed. Ray stayed quiet above me. “Raymond.” I groaned. Ray wrapped his arms around me and rubbed my back. “For fucks sale ray!” I pulled back and ray grimaced.

“I mean they are pretty stupid.” He said, trying his best to look hopeful. “It’s not like they’re going to be much of a problem. We just have to make sure they can’t get into anything dangerous.”

“fine. Fine.” I gave in. “But you take care of them. You keep them out of my coffee. And you keep them out of the bedroom.” I poked rays chest and glared at him. He laughed at me and cupped my cheeks.

“deal.” He agreed before kissing me. The sound of the garbage disposal turning on made me pull away.

“RAY!”