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freedomfireflies · 8 months ago

Text

Punished*

Summary: The one where you've been a brat to your dominant, Harry, and he's finally had enough.

Word Count: 5k

Content Warning: 18+, smut, degradation, spanking, voyerism, daddy kink, sir kink, age gap (6 years but not explicitly mentioned), exhibitionsim if you squint

Right about now, somewhere across town, Professor Styles is pulling your panties out of his pocket.

If you’re correct, he’ll be standing in the lecture hall, giving his opening remarks for his Applied Mathematics class, and reaching for his favorite pen. He’ll dip into his pocket, feel the silky fabric against his fingertips, and he’ll know.

And you will be royally and magnificently fucked.

Because around the time he realizes just what it is that you’ve snuck into his jacket, he’ll also realize that it means you are somewhere across town not wearing any underwear at all.

And he’ll be fucking furious.

But that’s why you did it. It’s what he deserved. After spending all evening torturing you, teasing you, edging you, and taunting you…he left you. Gave you exactly 0 orgasms by the time you went to bed, claiming you didn’t deserve any after being such a brat all day.

In your defense, you weren’t a brat. No, you didn’t exactly do the few things he’d asked of you. And no, you didn’t communicate with him that you were struggling with your essay and feeling stressed and overwhelmed. But you figured an orgasm would help fix a lot of that. Instead, he left you with none.

You felt rather proud of yourself as you subtly and effortlessly dropped your panties into the pocket while you kissed him goodbye. Knowing he’d be pissed and that he’d punish you for it. You secretly hoped he’d pull them out in front of the whole class. Or in front of the other faculty.

Either way, you knew the text was coming. And when your phone pings as you’re leaving your own class, you can’t help but smile.

You’re in big fucking trouble, little one.

You bite your lip with glee as you head across campus. You don’t answer his message and you certainly don’t apologize. After all, the day is far from through.

Around four, you return to his apartment. His office hours aren’t over until five and then he has a faculty meeting which will keep him out until seven. It’s hard some days to be away from him for so long. You miss him. It’s even worse that he doesn’t work at the same university you attend, so there’s not even the slightest chance that you’ll catch a glimpse of him during the day.

It bothers you more than you’d like to admit. And maybe that’s why you like to challenge him. Because at least if he’s upset and punishing you, he’s paying attention. You don’t want to settle into a routine where he comes home, gives you a quick fuck and a kiss, and falls asleep.

Or even worse…ends the agreement altogether.

You want to know you’re interesting enough to keep around. That you make this relationship worth it for him. He wants to be dominant. And you want to be his submissive. And even if that means getting spanked and edged from time to time…that’s okay.

So, once you get back to his place, you make a plan. He isn’t too upset yet. He needs a push. A gentle nudge.

And you know exactly how to nudge him.

You find his portable security camera, the one he only sets up when he’s out of town and away from the apartment. You bring it into the bedroom and then you turn it on. You know it’ll send him a notification that it’s active and that it’s sensed movement. From there, he’ll be able to open the app on his phone and see everything the camera does.

Which will be you.

On the bed.

Naked.

And touching yourself.

Breaking his favorite rule.

He won’t be able to do anything about it, either. Between office hours and faculty meetings, he won’t have time to send you a chastising text. He won’t have time to warn you or threaten you.

But he will be able to watch. You know he will. Even if he has to pull it up behind a notebook, his eyes will be glued to the screen and the thought alone makes you giddy.

You set the camera on the dresser, giving him the perfect view of where you plan to sit against the headboard. You strip off your shirt and skirt, but there’s no need to discard of your underwear—he already knows where it is.

You crawl onto the mattress, and you settle yourself into the collection of pillows. You find your favorite dildo and you spread your legs and you look directly into the lens.

Then, you smile.

You start slow, first by rubbing your clit, and settling into the sensation. Praying that Harry is somewhere watching right now. Then you start to tease yourself. One finger…then two. Slowly thrusting them into your cunt until you can add a third. The sounds are wet and delicious, and you moan his name even though he can’t hear you.

When you finally work yourself up to the dildo, you’re shaking. It doesn’t take long for you to cum—twice. Making a mess on his bed and on your thighs that you don’t exactly plan to clean up just yet. And after a quick break…you go back for round three before finally tapping out.

And once you’re through and feeling rather victorious, you wait.

However, waiting proves rather difficult once eight o’clock hits and he’s still not home. Then eight becomes nine and you don’t even have so much as a text.

And you realize not much later that he’s turned the tables.

Not only does he have the upper hand, but he’s using that hand to squeeze you out. To make you sit and sweat and bite the ends of your fingernails. He wants you to realize that he’s won. Even after everything you did today, he’s still won and he’s going to continue winning and you are undoubtedly fucked.

So, when the door finally opens about fifteen minutes later, your heart drops to your ass.

He strides in rather calmly. He tosses his keys into the bowl by the hallway. He slips off his large coat. He loosens his tie. And then he heads to the bar for a bottle of scotch.

He pours himself a drink and he doesn’t look at you as you sit on the sofa and wait anxiously for his reaction. He doesn’t offer you a hello. He doesn’t glare or even smirk. He keeps his back to you, and he takes two very deliberate sips.

Finally…he turns around.

He leans against the counter and begins to roll his sleeves up to his arms. Then, he crosses them over his chest, and in a gentle murmur says, “Hi.”

Desperate to please and to move the scene along, you scoot to the edge of the couch and place your hands in your lap. “Hi, Sir.”

He hums. Soft. Amused. “Sir, hm?”

You nod. “Yes. You are Sir, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” he echoes. “But you certainly didn’t treat me like one today, did you?”

You resist the urge to smile. “What do you mean, Sir?”

He pushes off the bar and takes one step closer. Then, he reaches into his pocket and pulls your panties free, dangling them from his finger. “Why were these left in my coat today, little one?”

“Oh…were they?” You bat your lashes. “Oops. I guess I forgot where I put them.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes, Sir.”

He takes another step. “And does that mean you were in class all day without any?”

You shyly glance toward your lap. “Maybe.”

“Maybe?”

“…yes, Sir.”

“I see.” He puts them back in his pocket. “So, like a little fucking whore, you paraded around campus in nothing but a short skirt with no goddamn panties just to piss me off?"

"...yes, Sir."

"Did you touch yourself during class?"

You blink up at him. "I thought about it. But I waited until I was in my car during lunch."

His expression grows harder. "So you touched yourself twice today. Without asking my permission for either one."

"That's right, Sir."

"And you wanted me to find your panties while I was teaching, then, didn’t you?”

“Yes.”

“To mock me.”

“No, Sir.”

“No?”

You shift and offer him your best pout. “I only wanted your attention, Daddy.”

“You have it.” He nods his chin at you. “But that’s not all you wanted, is it?”

You clear your throat. “What do you mean, Professor?”

He reaches now into his other pocket, pulling out his phone and hitting a few buttons before flipping the screen toward you.

And there you are. On the bed. Writhing, moaning. Coming.

Harry looks at you. “You went through quite a bit of trouble to make sure I’d see this, didn’t you?”

You bite your lip.

“In fact, not only did you want me to see you disobeying my rule, you wanted to rub it in my face. Wanted me to get caught watching you in front of all my colleagues and students.” He clicks the phone off. “Isn’t that right?”

He wants your honesty and even though you’re tempted not to give it to him…you need to see him upset.

You straighten up and look him dead in the eye. “That’s right, Sir.”

He leans back and studies you. He’s fighting a smirk now, but that mischievous green gives everything away. “Because you wanted my attention.”

“Yes.”

“And this is how you thought you’d get it.”

“Yes.”

“And how is that working for you so far, little one?”

“Pretty well, actually. You’re here, and you’re pissed, so…”

He leans closer. So suddenly, in fact, that it makes a breath catch in your throat and your eyes pop open.

He rests his hands on his knees and stares right through you. “Fine,” he agrees in an almost devious purr. “If you want me to punish you, darling, I will. In fact, I’d like nothing more than to bend you over my knee right now and feel your skin grow hot from my hand.”

You swallow.

“And then, once you’re fucking soaking my trousers, I’ll sit you down and return your generous favor.” He smiles. “And you…will thank me for every single spank and every single orgasm. The only words I will hear out of this mouth are, ‘Yes, Sir,’ ‘No, Sir,’ and ‘Thank you, Sir.’ Is that understood?”

You nod sheepishly. “Yes, Sir.”

“Good.” He straightens up. “You know what to say if you want to stop, yes?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Tell me.”

“Yellow or red.”

“Good. And what’s our safe word if you’d like to pause the dominant, submissive relationship and just be us?”

“Sunflower.”

“Good girl.” He reaches for your chin, pinching your cheeks tight between his fingers before forcing your head up. “What’s your color right now?”

“Green, Sir.”

“And you understand that my punishment is not a reward for this behavior?” He grips you a touch harder. “Just because I’m giving you what you want doesn’t mean I approve of the means in which you got it?”

Your lashes flutter as you nod in his hold. “I understand…Sir.”

“But you’re not the least bit sorry…are you?”

Slowly, you shake your head.

He smiles to himself before dipping down once again until his lips are only inches from yours. “I plan to change that.”

Your stomach flips.

With that, he releases you, and nods toward the bedroom. “Go. Wait on the bed. I’ll be in when I feel like it.”

You don’t waste another second. You run toward the bed and you sit on the edge and you wait like a good girl. You obey him because you know how badly you want what comes next.

He takes his time. He has another drink. Slips off his shoes. Maybe even answers a few texts. Then, after he’s finished teasing you, he strolls into the bedroom.

He says nothing as he takes a seat beside you on the mattress. He hardly even looks at you. His expression is stoic—unrelenting. The way it always is when he’s slipping further into the punishing dominant role.

“Come,” he says, and pats his thigh.

You do. You crawl over his lap and lay your stomach over his knees, bare ass eager and waiting.

He squeezes your hip. “Are you ready, little one?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good.” He smooths his palm over the curve of your left cheek before there’s a sharp smack to the right.

You jolt, sucking in a quiet gasp. “Thank you, Sir.”

You hear him hum appreciatively. He does it again to the other side this time. Hard. Firm.

“Thank you, Sir.”

Again and again. Sometimes on the same side, sometimes in a specific pattern. He goes until you’re nearly numb and tears are pooling in your eyes. The same way arousal is pooling between your legs. Exactly the way he wanted.

Because it’s not the pain that does it for you. It’s his pain. It’s the knowledge that he trusts you enough to do this. And you trust him enough to let him.

He wants to take the time to punish you and make you a better submissive. And even though you annoy him and challenge him, he wants to keep you around. He isn’t going to lose interest.

But most importantly, he enjoys it just as much as you do.

By the fifteenth spank—with a few moments of rest in-between—you’re raw and undoubtedly very warm. Despite his slight anger, he makes sure to caress your skin and show it a bit of care along with the abuse. He listens closely for your safe word, and he only continues once you’ve thanked him. A sign that you’re coherent and still present in the scene.

After a couple more, he stops. “Tell me again why I’m doing this. Let me know that you understand.”

Through a few sniffles, you manage to answer, “Because…I disobeyed your rule.”

“And?”

“…and I disobeyed you.”

“And?”

“I went to class without any panties.”

“Mm.” He seems to huff to himself. “What else?”

“I could have embarrassed you in front of your students and colleagues.”

“And?”

“…and I’m not sorry about any of it.” You glance over your shoulder. “I’m a bad submissive.”

“You are,” he agrees. “Quite possibly the worst. My sweet angel became my little devil overnight all because she’s an attention whore who needs Daddy to constantly put her in her place.”

He reaches for your jaw again and forces your attention on him.

“Is that what you are, darling? A greedy little slut who throws a tantrum anytime her dominant stays out late? You have to disrupt my life, my work, and my students because you’re so cock-dumb and desperate?”

Your heart is racing. The degrading comments make your insides wrench in the best way as you squeeze your thighs together. “…yes, Sir.”

“I provide for you,” he continues, pinching your cheeks with a rather unrelenting grip. “I care for you. I work hard to make money just so I can spend it on you. And what do I get in return? A disobedient little fuck-toy that can’t follow a single goddamn rule. All because she couldn’t tell me she missed me.”

He pulls you up until you’re sitting and your ass begins to throb in pain as you’re forced over the rough fabric of his trousers.

“Tell me you missed me,” he demands sharply. “Be a good girl for once and tell me what you really need.”

“You,” you breathe. “I need you, Professor. I missed you. I wanted you around.”

“Why didn’t you tell me that sooner, huh?” He wraps his fingers around the back of your neck. “Why did you play games with me?”

You pout. “Because I like playing with you.”

He scoffs. “You’re a brat. You’re a fucking brat and you need to be broken.”

With that, you’re nearly shoved off his lap as he moves to one of the dressers to search for something.

Handcuffs.

You already know what comes next and even though you know you won’t like it…you can’t help but feel just a little excited.

“Move to the headboard,” he says. “Hands on the bars.”

You scoot into position, wrists firm against the poles as he tightens the cuffs and makes sure they’re nice and snug.

In this position, he can do anything he wants. He can fuck you, he can taste you, he can have both holes at once. And you can’t do anything but let him.

Once you’re where he wants you, he gets off of the bed, and begins to unbutton his fancy shirt.

You enjoy the show. In fact, you practically drool as you watch those long, nimble fingers pop each button on the way down. The way the fabric slides against his tan, tattooed skin before dropping down his arms and onto the floor. The way he tugs on his belt before undoing his pants and letting those go as well.

And there he is. Clad in nothing more than his briefs, that beautiful, gorgeous body on display. He puts in quite a bit of time to keep up his appearance and stamina. If he’s not teaching and he’s not with you, he’s at the gym. He runs, he does yoga, he plays basketball. He’s a very fit man and you honestly can’t believe how lucky you are to reap the rewards of his hard work.

Your lips part, ready to call for him. Your eyes feel heavy with lust and your legs are practically trembling. You part them in anticipation as he drops his briefs and puts a firm hand around his cock.

He strokes himself a few times before he grabs his phone. You stare like you’re in heat and maybe you are because fuck, the way his tip is so red and swollen and absolutely delicious. And his hand, his glorious hand. Nothing has ever looked so good. The way he squeezes and pumps. The way his thighs flex as he walks back toward the lounge chair in the corner of the room to sit. The way the tattoos move with every thrust.

You blink. “Wait…what are you doing?”

His eyes snap to yours. “Did I say you could speak?”

“…no, but—”

“Excuse me?”

You exhale sharply. “No, Sir.”

“No.” He leans back, one hand still around his cock while the other rotates his phone until he can watch the screen clearly. “What I am doing is returning your favor.”

Your brows furrow.

“See…you wanted to touch yourself. Without me,” he explains almost smugly. “You wanted to torture me. When I couldn’t do anything about it. When I couldn’t touch you or feel you or taste you. So, I’m following your lead. I’m letting you watch. I’m letting you see everything that you’re missing.”

And you realize then. You understand. You understand and you fucking hate it because this is so much worse than what you were imagining.

“Harry…Harry, wait—”

He clicks his tongue and shoots you a startling look of waning. “What did I say?”

You whimper. “Sir, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I made a mistake. I was just…I missed you and I—”

“I don’t care,” he says before he hits a button on his phone and the speakers come alive with the sound of your voice. “You get to watch me while I get to watch you. And it’s a shame. Because now I have to waste it on myself instead of filling that sweet pussy the way you love.”

You whine again but it’s lost beneath the sounds of your pants coming from his phone. He doesn’t look at the real you. He looks at the disobedient version on the screen. The one with spread legs and a rather pornographic moan that almost embarrasses you.

He fists himself in the kind of way that makes every glorious muscle in his arm flex and tighten. It’s cruel how he makes you wait here, calling his name. Unable to do for him what he’s doing for himself.

“Look at you,” he exhales, lashes fluttering as he stares at your performance. “Stretching your little cunt with your fingers. Bet it felt good, didn’t it?”

“Yes…yes, Sir—”

“Did you think of me, little devil? Did you think of my fingers when you were fucking your little pussy. Did you pretend they were mine?”

You nod so fast, your head aches. “Yes, Sir.”

“I bet.” He squeezes the tip and hisses before moving back down. His chest is heaving, skin practically glowing beneath the lamp beside him. He’s beautiful like this. Jaw clenched and thighs spread. “I imagined your voice when I was in my meeting, watching. Didn’t have the sound on…but I knew. I know your sounds. Play them in my head on a loop.”

You yank on the cuffs and you don’t care that they’re cutting into your wrists. What he’s doing hurts so much more.

“And that fucking dildo,” he continues. He groans softly and his hips lift. “Yet another toy you aren’t meant to use without me. But there you are. Taking it so well. All the way, hm? Like it’s nothing.”

You need him to look at you. He’s so close and you just…you need him to put his eyes on your body and see the way you’re dying without him. It’s warm in his light and you think you might disappear if he doesn’t look at you just once before he finishes.

“It’s such a shame,” he murmurs. “Such a shame that you’d rather have silicone than my cock.”

You sniffle. “Daddy, no—”

“And if that’s what you want, that’s what you’ll get. For the next week, if I decide you get to cum, I’ll use the toy. And then I’ll let you watch as I finish myself off alone.” Finally, he looks up, and you want to wilt. “Or maybe I’ll use a toy, too. Maybe the fleshlight we got.”

Tears dance down your cheeks. You wish he was inside of you right now. Fucking you, stretching you. Pressing down on the bulge in your belly so you can really feel him. His hand is nothing compared to your pussy and you both know it.

“Professor, please—”

“Uh-uh,” he tuts. “No. You don’t get to cry. You don’t get to beg or feel sorry. You asked for this. You wanted to hurt me. To be punished and be noticed. So, I’m noticing you, darling. And what I’ve noticed is that I’ve been far too lenient with you.”

You squeeze your thighs in an attempt for relief, but it does nothing and he knows it.

“See, I thought you were good.” He rests his head back against the chair, overcome with pleasure, and you know he’s trying hard to hold out. “I thought…that when I asked you to do something, you did it. That if you needed me…if you needed to cum…you talked to me. You followed our rule and you obeyed. But clearly I don’t punish you enough if you think slipping your panties into my coat is a fun little game.”

“Sir…Sir, I don’t, I’m—”

“Or maybe they’re just the wrong sort of punishments,” he barrels on. “What you really wanted was to be spanked and tied up. Maybe even wanted me to use my belt, hm? Be rough with you? Make you cry? And I gave it to you. Because I’m a good dominant. But I need to be a better one. And a better dominant makes sure his submissive learns her lessons.”

You try to sit up. Catch his eye again. Plead with him. Because you don’t like where this is going.

“Starting now, your punishment will hurt. It will teach. If you so much as roll your eyes when I speak to you, I’ll have you sleeping in the guest room until you can fix your attitude.” He glances over his phone screen and hums when he sees you finish. “And if you try to pull another stunt like you did today, you won’t get to cum at all, and I might even send you back to your apartment.”

The tears feel hot as they drip down your chin. “Daddy…”

“Tell me you understand,” he demands of you now. “Tell me that you hear my rules. That you plan to obey them and respect them the way you need to obey and respect me.”

You’re tempted to throw a tantrum. To thrash and cry and beg, but you know it’ll only make things worse. So, you make a quick motion with your head, and whimper, “Yes, Sir.”

And your submissive reply is what tips him over the edge. He cums—hard—and with a rather lewd moan before spilling all over his hand, stomach, and thighs.

You hate it. He was right, it is wasted. Staining his skin instead of yours. To be washed off and disposed of instead of slipping down your throat or filling your cunt. A cruel, sadistic punishment that he seems to enjoy.

And he still doesn’t look at you. He doesn’t acknowledge your pain. Pretends you’re not even in the room. Instead, he grabs a washcloth from one of the drawers and cleans himself up before coming over to you. So there’s no chance you’ll get even a single drop.

He sits on the bed beside you and looks down. He pinches your chin—softer this time—and makes your tear-filled eyes look at him.

“I expect you to follow these rules, little one,” he repeats gently. “And I expect you to understand why you’re being punished. I don’t do it to hurt you. In fact, it hurts me more than it hurts you. Having to send you away or use a toy instead of giving you my cock? That’s not what I want. But it’s what you deserve. And I have to be a good dominant and make sure you learn your lesson.”

You try to nuzzle yourself closer to his hand and he smiles. “I do understand, Daddy, and I’m sorry. Just…just missed you.”

His expression softens now and he seems gutted. “So you said. And I’d like to know what I’ve been doing to make you feel so neglected so that it doesn’t happen again.”

You shake your head quickly. “Nothing, Sir. Just…your hours have been later. And sometimes I have a lot to study. And by the time we’re both finally home, we have to sleep. And then I feel like I haven’t seen you in weeks.”

He coos and reaches down to press a kiss to the tip of your nose. “Oh, darling. I know life is a bit hectic right now. And I haven’t called to check-in as much as I should, have I?”

You sniffle. “You have. But a check-in doesn’t replace the real thing.”

“I know.” He leaves a kiss to your cheek now. “I’m so sorry, my love. With the end of the semester, I’ve got so much grading to do, and so many final projects to oversee. There’s a lot of discussion happening in our department, and I’ve been pulled in a lot of different directions. I’ve been absent and neglecting one of my favorite priorities. And for that, I’m so sorry. And I will try to do better. Can you forgive me?”

You smile and nod as quickly as you can. “Always, Daddy.”

He chuckles. “My good girl. But you know that just because I haven’t been as present doesn’t give you a right to act out, yes?”

“…yes, Sir.”

“And I expect you to talk to me in the future if you’re feeling like this?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good. Do you have any questions for me?”

You nod again. “Can you please hold me?”

His smile feels like a breath of spring. “Of course.”

He undoes the cuffs and takes careful hold of your wrists. He grabs some calming salve from the nightstand beside him and applies it to the slight marks on your skin, just to make sure you’ll be all right and won’t feel any more pain. And once it’s on, he pulls the covers back, and tucks you both in.

You feel good in his arms, your cheek against his heart. There’s still a very prominent ache between your thighs but you know better than to ask him to relieve it. This is part of your lesson. He’ll make it up to you later—even if he only uses a toy to do so. But it won’t even matter because it’s him. And you’ll take anything he gives you.

The slight scruff on his face scratches your forehead as he rubs it against you to make you squeal. And you feel so happy now that he’s your Harry again. The man you feel safest with.

“Harry?” you whisper after the room has gone quiet.

“Hm?”

“I really am sorry about the panties. I didn’t want you to get caught.”

He laughs softly and kisses your temple. “I think if anything, it would have given me points.”

You grin. “The girls would have been so jealous.”

“Oh, I don’t think so.”

“I do. You’re hot, Professor. I don’t have to be your student to know all of your students want to fuck you.”

He glances down with a smirk. “All of them, hm?”

“Every single one. Have you seen yourself? Have you seen what you wear? And your hair and that beard and those eyes—”

“Okay,” he murmurs, and cups your cheek. “You’re very sweet, darling. And maybe you should give me your panties more often so I can remind everyone who I belong to.”

Your heart skips. The word belong means something more to the two of you than it might to anyone else. As his submissive, you do belong to him.

But he belongs to you, too. You belong to each other. This is a partnership—a relationship, no matter the dynamic. And the idea of him flaunting your claim on him makes you giddy.

“Daddy?” you whimper.

“Yes, little one?”

“Can we please change the subject before this gets any worse for me?”

His brows furrow. “Worse?”

You shift your legs between his and his eyes widen when he feels the smearing of arousal against his thigh.

“Ah,” he breathes before smiling. “M’sorry, honey. Know it must really ache, hm?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“And after all this edging, it’d probably feel so good to cum, wouldn’t it?”

Another nod. “Yes, Professor.”

“Mmm.” He kisses you. “Too bad. Maybe next time, yeah?”

You groan but you do kiss him back. Because you know that next time…

He’ll make it worth it.

Hehe this was fun and I am so down to explore them more later if we ever want!!! THANK YOU FOR READING 😭💞

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Amazing divider by @firefly-graphics! 💞

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moonstruckme · 2 months ago

Note

And since you're such an angel, I would love some:

snow angels with doctor!remus

Thank you and please hydrate 💧

Awee you're too sweet to me, thanks for requesting lovely <3

cw: blood (not a lot? if that helps), dizziness/lightheadedness

doctor!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 686 words

Remus cups your face in his hand, brows woven together in concern. “Did you eat lunch?” he asks you.

“Yeah.”

“What’d you have?” He swipes his thumb gently over your cheek before leaving you, going into the nearby bathroom.

“A sandwich.” You sound a bit defensive, which isn’t strictly fair. You know you gave Remus a bit of a fright when he came home to find you lying on the rug between the living room and the kitchen, too scared to get up. It was perhaps a tad dramatic—you could’ve walked over to the couch if you’d really wanted to, you’re sure—but you didn’t see any point in pushing yourself when you felt so dizzy and shaky on your feet. Remus has taken it as more cause for alarm than you have.

He comes back with a blood pressure monitor and a couple of other things, setting them on the kitchen table in front of you. “That sounds fine,” he murmurs, taking your arm to slide the cuff up it. You have the sensation of swaying in your seat, but you’re not sure if it’s really happening or only in your head. “And it’s been going on for how long?”

“Since maybe two.” You lean sideways so your head rests on his chest. Remus’ free hand comes up to hold it there gently, pinkie stroking the baby hairs by your temple as the cuff inflates around your arm.

“You should have called me, sweetheart.”

“I was okay,” you tell him. “I didn’t really think I was gonna pass out or anything, I just thought it’d be safer to sit down.”

Remus’ hum conveys some disapproval, but he doesn’t seem to think it’s worthwhile to continue arguing with you. The blood pressure monitor beeps, and he leans forward to read it.

“Hm, that’s normal.” He takes the cuff off you with a satisfying ripping sound. You curl and flex your fingers against the odd feeling.

Remus holds your head to his chest with his free hand while he leans forward, grabbing something else off the counter. He takes your hand, but you pull it from his grasp when you see what he’s holding, sitting up.

“Remus,” you whine.

He chuckles at your tone. “Dove, it’ll be quick.”

You let him take your hand again, but don’t allow him to pull it near that clicker thing. “Is it going to hurt?” you worry.

“No.”

You make a low, petulant sound in the back of your throat. Ordinarily you might be embarrassed for it, but you’re feeling rather self-pitying right now and entitled to some sulking. “Really?”

“Yes, love. Relax.”

Still feeling mistrustful, you allow him to pull your hand closer. He pricks the pad of your finger.

“Ow—Rem!”

“It’s okay,” Remus shushes you. “All done.”

“That hurt,” you complain, vindicated, as he collects the bead of blood on a reader.

“I know,” he admits. “It does, a little. But only for a second, yeah?”

You make your displeasure known through your silence.

“Look.” Remus takes your finger, kissing the back. “It’s better now, see?” He brings your head to his chest again, and it’s difficult to keep from softening when he kisses that, too. “Sorry, dovey.”

“It’s okay,” you say, begrudging, only because he really does seem to feel a bit bad.

“Mm.” He reads your blood sugar. “You’re at ninety two.”

“Is that good?”

“It’s normal.” Remus holds your cheek again, looking down at you and stroking pensively with his thumb. You’re not sure if he’s feeling for something or just touching you; you’re happy either way.

He hums softly. “Do you feel tired as well?”

“A little, yeah.”

“Headache?”

You tilt your head back to see him. “What’s it mean?”

“I’ll take that for a yes, then.” His lips curve softly. “I’m not completely sure what it means yet, but I’ve got a couple of theories.”

“Can you fix it?” you ask, though really you have complete faith. Remus always fixes it.

He kisses your head again like he knows what you’re thinking. His lips make a soft landing just short of your hairline. “We’ll see.”

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a-b-riddle · 4 months ago

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check tags for warnings

In the mood to write angst. Imagine you’re the conscientious observer who accidentally sees how your team talks about you behind your back.

Your morals were… complicated. You didn’t believe in killing anyone. Your faith told you that killing someone is wrong and even if it’s to save your life, handling a gun is something that doesn’t sit well with you. You’ve been to gun ranges. Mandatory for your position in the military that you have basic fire arm knowledge. But having something in your hands that could so easily take a life made you uneasy.

You were pescatarian, but tried to limit meat. Cried anytime you saw chickens in those trucks heading toward their demise. You fed stray cats around your house back home. You tried to be kind and cherished life in all most of its forms. The exception being garlic butter shrimp that was too good to give up and anytime of bug resembling a cock roach. And yes, palmetto bugs were still cock roaches.

And wasps.

Fuck wasps.

At the same time, you were pro-choice. Initially, you were pro-choice for other women, but you didn’t think you would have the strength to get an abortion. It wasn’t until you were holding your friend’s hand as she got her D&C that your views on your own body autonomy changed. It didn’t have to be medical to be necessary.

But you still refused to hold a weapon. Which is why even though you were a very talented medic, you were always judged for not carrying any sort of defense while in the field.

But no one on base would dare say anything to you about it. At least not to your face…

You got stuck instructing a training seminar when your phone continued to buzz in your back pocket. But even with the consistent messages, you didn’t falter by showing the newest members how to give basic first aid until health could arrive.

Nearly two hours later, you finally fish your phone out to see what’s going on.

Dozens of text messages in a group chat between you, Captain Price, Johnny, Kyle and Simon. You had gotten close to them over the last few months. You were halfway through your contract and were already dreading leaving knowing they were staying behind until the job is done.

You open it, your phone taking you to the first unread message.

Cpt.: Hows the arm healing up?

Soap: Fine. Hen did a good job of keeping the sutures nice and even. Should barely scar.

Gaz: Wouldn’t have a scar if she just fucking carried.

Soap: You think she honestly would even know what to do with a gun if you gave her one Garrick 😂

Ghost: Still think she’s a liability. Someone who won’t raise arms against an enemy isn’t meant to be on the team.

Cpt: Already tried. Laswell says we need the numbers. As long as she does her job there’s nothing I can do. We can’t be down a medic and it’s either her or nothing.

You shook as you continued reading the conversation.

Liability. Coward. It went on and on about how weak you were. Why couldn’t you just carry a small pistol instead of expecting everyone else to keep you safe.

It then switched to your personality. No one should be that happy. Annoying. A yapper. Couldn’t get a word in most of the time.

On and on they went until you realized they spoke so freely because they didn’t realize you were in this group chat. What did they say when you weren’t around?

You felt like a fool having extending more than just trying to be a civil coworker, but a friend. Taking on tasks that weren’t your responsibility simply to help them.

Getting a floral arrangement delivered for Johnny’s sister after she had given birth. Talking on the phone to the nursing home where Price’s mother resided trying to sort out her insurance. Taking priority Kyle when he was injured after falling out of a plane (both times) over your other patients. And always having the electric kettled going in the morning so Simon could have his tea without waiting too long.

You were helpful. Just because you had one boundary didn’t mean their words held any merit. But still you couldn’t help the deep feeling of just… betrayal? Rejection? You weren’t sure there was a word fitting enough to sum up how utterly stupid you felt.

Maybe they were right. This wasn’t a civilian setting. This wasn’t just life and death for your patients, but for you. You were out in the field with no form of protection except from others.

You weren’t abandoning your morals. You couldn’t. Not when every fiber of your being told you to remain steadfast. There was only one solution.

You didn’t have much to pack. Uniform was issued to you. Your stethoscope and some other tools came out of your own pocket. Your laptop, phone, charges. You packed all your lounging clothes and miraculously everything fit into a military duffle. Which wasn’t actually anything impressive given how big those things are.

You were confident in your decision even if it made you feel like a failure.

As you stood outside the office door you returned back to the group chat. One by one you proceeded to block all of them. You knew when you left the group they would know that the notification would pop up and they either wouldn’t give a shit that you finally knew what the actually thought of you or they tried messaging you to make amends to cover their asses. You weren’t sure which was worse.

Once you had blocked the last one, you left and knocked on the door that you had been idling in front of. A faint ‘come in’ was granted before you walked through.

“Hey, Kate.” You greeted. “Can we talk?”

#call of duty #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #captain john price #kyle gaz garrick #angst #grovel #mentions of abortion #reader is religious but not specified #no mentions of y/n #pro choice #reader identifies as cis female #hurt eventual comfort (but not right now)

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lovecla · 2 months ago

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TEACH ME (HOW TO MAKE HIM COME) | jack hughes.

nhl masterlist, nsfw, @lovecla’s kinktober collection, chapter five:

➴ chapter warnings: p in v, unprotected sex (don’t do this kids), semi-public sex (don’t do this either), jealous jack, dirty talk.

➴ word count: 3.7k

💌 from me to you: you asked, and you shall receive. thank u so much for all the love you all gave to TM(HTMHC) and i hope this final chapter can make u guys happy. sorry if it sucks, though. hope y’all still like me :,)

𖧷

AS YOU put on Trevor’s jersey, you contemplate tonight's game.

It’s November again; the leaves keep falling from the trees, the wind is still cold and impersonal. You’re still tired from all the studying, constantly reevaluating yourself and staying up until late at night to write papers.

Life is still as simple as it was before everything. Before crushing on Zack, before going back to Newark in Summer, before sleeping with Jack Hughes, although— Is it really?

You and Jack hadn’t done anything in months. After fucking him for the last time, you woke up with a Trevor Zegras holding a Hockey stick and ready to break it in half with the help of Jack’s head, which made you snap at him.

“What is your problem, Trevor?!” You yell, barely awake and already pissed off at your brother’s doing. “Why are you here at seven in the morning, yelling at Jack and— is that a stick?”

Trevor lifts it up proudly, like he’s okay with beating Jack up. “Yeah, it is! And it’s about to see Jack’s pretty face.”

“Well—” Jack tries, but you’re not hearing any of it.

“Stop acting like I’m fifteen or whatever. If I want to have sex with him, then I will.”

“What— oh my God. See, this is why I never wanted you to be friends with her. They always end up falling in love, man,” Trevor shouts at Jack, who’s doing his best to hold in his laughter. It isn’t doing much, though. “Sarah, Jack isn’t the right guy for you! He’s a man whore!”

“Y’know I’m still here righ—”

“I don’t care, Trevor, geez,” you sit down on Jack’s couch, covering your face with your hands before speaking again. “I understand why you’re upset and I appreciate the fact that you’re taking care of me, but I’m an adult. I know how to take care of myself.”

“You’re twenty—”

“Besides,” Jack starts, this time his face is serious and his arms are crossed in front of his chest. “I’m not gonna hurt her, you asshole. Have a little faith in me, no?”

“No?” Trevor scoffs, putting the stick down. “This is ridiculous.”

“What’s ridiculous is you thinking Sarah can’t stand up for herself, or that I will do anything to hurt her, intentionally. Like she’s just another one. Fuck off, Z.”

Trevor wouldn’t stop commenting about the two of you together, even when Jack wasn’t around you. It was tiring to say the least, so you decided to take the matter into your own hands and tell Jack that you were both done.

It was ridiculous, really, since you’ve grown to appreciate Jack’s company, not only as a friend, but as a possible future partner. Getting away from him wasn’t ideal, but if that was you needed to make Trevor shut up, then you’d do it.

Occasionally, you’d text each other, just normal conversations about how you’re doing, and how you’d wish you were together rather than studying for finals.

But today, the Devils were in Anaheim, playing against your brother’s team and you were going to watch them, for the first time ever. Not only you, though. It looks like all of your colleagues and friends are going— you’ve lost count of how many people texted you asking for free tickets.

You were agitated, since everything could go wrong tonight: your brother could go crazy and risk a penalty for punching Jack in the face, you and Jack would see each other after months and Zack was also going to be there.

In your defense, it hadn’t been your idea in the first place. Kiara suggested that you give the extra ticket Trevor gave to you to him, because it’d be a good excuse to talk to him and to leave the whole Jack situation behind.

But the truth is, you’re not really sure if you want to “leave the whole Jack situation behind”. You like him and you know he likes you back. Even though you had the biggest infatuation for Zack, it didn’t hold a candle to what Jack made you feel whenever he was inside you.

But, oh, well.

Now, it’s probably too late to ask Jack to try again. And even if it made you feel a little weird, you knew it was probably best this way.

𖧷

“OH, MAN, I can’t believe we lost.”

Zack’s complaints make you laugh. “I mean, it was kinda obvious. But, yeah, losing 6-2 is really tough.”

“We played well, though,” Kiara adds, trying to sound convincing. You and Zack both funnily stare at each other, choosing not to say anything. “Y’all are just mean. Sarah, it’s your brother’s team!”

“I know, I know,” you snicker. “Sorry. I’ll tell him he played well.”

“You’re seeing him tonight?” Zack asks, his brown eyes expressing curiosity. “Can I come? The Devils are fucking awesome!”

“Yes, we have, like, a little get together party, if you know what I mean,” you shrug, biting your lips. “I mean, you can definitely come if you want.”

Kiara eyes you eagerly as Zack smiles brightly at you, saying “thank you” at least a thousand times and rambling about how excited he was to meet actual NHL players in person.

You didn’t know if it had been a good idea to invite him, but you just felt bad to leave him out of the celebration— or what was supposed to be a celebration before Anaheim lost 6-2— since he was a huge Hockey fan. And even if you’re not all that interested in him anymore, he’s cool to hang out with.

Ever since you came back from Newark you’ve been spending more time with Zack. If anyone asks you anything, you won’t be able to tell them why is that, but you’re not complaining. It’s probably due to fact that you’re not that interested in him anymore, so you don’t have to worry about pleasing him all the time.

Now, you had much more interesting people to please.

You all walk to the dinner hall, where a bunch of players and coaches were talking and dining together, the Devils being loud and proud after a well played game, while most of the Ducks had pouty lips and frowns.

You walked around with Zack and Kiara, and quickly finding your brother, his loud voice outstanding everyone else’s.

“Holy fuck, that’s Jack Hughes.” Zack said, his tone not hiding his surprise and admiration.

You immediately turn your head to the side, confirming that Jack Hughes is, indeed, just a few steps ahead of you, chatting with your brother and a bunch of other players.

“Well, well, well…” Kiara whispers beside you and you discreetly shove her with your elbow, making her shove you back, playfully.

“I mean, we don’t have to talk to them right now, right?” You say, trying to find a way out. “They’re probably sad. I’d be sad if I lost a game.”

“Girl, what are you talking about?” Kiara rolls her eyes, clearly not taking a hint.

“Sarah, you can’t be serious!” Zack laughs, grabbing your hand and pulling you forward. You widen your eyes, staring at his hand covering yours and then looking back at Kiara, who just looks like she’s having the time of her life.

Zack keeps his hand around yours as you approach your brother’s group, Jack’s eyes finding yours immediately before falling to your hands.

“Oh, hey there, ugly duck,” Trevor smiles at you, and you take advantage of the opportunity so you can separate your hand from Zack’s, walking until you’re hugging Trevor tighter than you had ever done before. “What the hell, why are you squeezing me?”

You wanted to punch him. “Oh, I just feel so sorry for you guys!” You try to sound devastated. “Losing is tough.”

“They’re used to it, aren’t you, chickens?” Bratt says, making people around you laugh, as your brother’s frown deepened.

“Fuck you.” Vatrano hisses back, and you let go of Trevor, standing beside him.

Someone calls some of the guys, and you almost yell at them so that they wouldn’t leave, but they do, leaving you alone with Trevor and. Well, Jack.

“I’m a huge fan!” Zack starts, smiling at Jack like he’s God almighty himself.

“Oh, really.” Jack says, and you can tell he’s not even trying to sound nice. You frown.

“Yeah. Ever since you joined the NHL. A long time ago.” Zack probably doesn’t notice Jack’s lack of manners, or if he does, he doesn’t say anything, continuing the conversation eagerly.

“Are you calling me old?” Jack raises his eyebrows, and Zack laughs, clearly oblivious.

Trevor eyes you weirdly, already familiar with Jack’s attitude problem.

“This sassy mean apocalypse needs to stop.” Kiara whispers in your ear and you’re seriously just two steps away from shoving her again.

“I was talking to my girl over there, you guys are fucking awesome and—”

“Your girl?”

You see, usually you’d expect this question to come out of Trevor’s lips, since he’s the most annoying person in the world. But once you saw Jack’s eyes turning a deep, ocean blue shade and his face starting to get red, you realize, with surprise, that Jack was the one who asked that.

You stare at him, but he wouldn’t look at you. He was staring at Zack, with his hands in his pocket.

“Oh, yeah, Sarah.”

A year ago you wouldn’t believe if anyone told you that you would want to kill Zack Brian with your own two hands, but at this moment, it’s all you want to do.

Why the hell is he talking about you like that?

“I didn’t know you were dating, Sarah.”

You gulp, looking up at Jack’s upset face, shaking your head immediately.

“Yeah, little sis, I also didn’t know you were dating.” Trevor said, wanting to sound angry, but you knew him well enough to realize that he was holding back his laughter, just like the little shit he is.

“I’m not— Zack and I aren’t dating.” You stutter, alternately looking at Jack and Trevor.

“Oh. You’re Zack?”

Jack can’t fucking be serious.

Zack is happy and smiling again. “Hell yes I am! Can we, like, take a picture together or something?”

This time, Trevor steps in and coughs, politely interrupting the conversation and finally— finally— doing something about this whole mess. “Sorry, man, can’t do it. We have to head back to the party, otherwise our coaches will kill us.”

You knew it was a lie, Keefe and Cronin didn’t care whether their players took pictures with people or missed parties. As long as they stayed out of trouble and played well, they didn’t really mind their players’ personal lives.

But you wouldn’t say anything, not when you were already in trouble.

“Oh, that’s fine, it’s cool,” Zack shrugs, not hiding his disappointment. You almost pass out when you catch a glimpse of a smile on Jack’s lips. “I’m sure we’ll have plenty of other opportunities.”

“Sure, sure,” Trevor smiles, throwing his arms around you once again. “Are you coming?”

“Oh, I—” you look around, biting your lips. “I don’t want to leave Zack alone.”

Even though you did want to leave him alone, you just couldn’t. He had been so excited when you invited him to the game, talking about it for an entire week before tonight.

“He can come too.”

You stare at Jack, not missing the way his lips curled up, and his eyes still looked darker.

“Type shit? You really are the goat, man, fuck yeah!” Zack celebrates and you stare at Kiara, who’s also looking a little bit worried now.

“Great,” you say through your teeth, stepping away from Trevor. “Let’s go, then.”

God, please help me.

𖧷

“SO, FOR how long have you and Sarah been friends?”

You wanted to smash Trevor’s face against a wall and twist his arm until he started crying.

You were sitting at his table, surrounded by other players, Kiara, Zack, Luke and Jack. Fortunately, Kiara had been successful at keeping Jack and Luke bored with her stories about college drama, so Jack wasn’t really focusing on you, or Zack for that matter.

Unlike Trevor, who’s constantly making remarks about your friendship.

“Not long.” You answer, shooting daggers at him with your eyes.

“But you seem really close.” He insists, smiling innocently.

“Sarah’s really cool,” Zack starts, and again you remind yourself that if he had said this not even seven months ago, you’d be smiling and dancing. But now, all you want is to tell him to leave. “We get along really well.”

“She’s a sweetheart, isn’t she? I’m glad to call her my sister.”

“Trevor,” you smile, kicking him under the table. “Stop it.”

“No, no, I like when people compliment you. Makes me proud—”

You get up abruptly, making at least five people look at you, Jack included. Blushing, you smile awkwardly. “I’m gonna go to the bathroom. Excuse me.”

Walking fast, you make your way to the bathroom, walking down an empty hallway, finding the bathroom quickly. You got in, thanking God that no one was in there.

Jesus. What the hell is going on with both Jack and Trevor?

You understood if Jack was upset with you, because if it was the other way around, you would be just the same, even if you weren’t an actual couple. But Trevor helping the fire grow? He’s just being a child.

“He’s so obvious it’s embarrassing.”

Letting out a yelp, you stare at the man you’ve been thinking of everyday since the Summer, who’s now leaning against the bathroom door and smirking at you.

“What are you doing here?” You ask, crossing your arms in front of you.

“Well, you’re clearly not peeing,” he starts, approaching you slowly. “And I can’t stand that dick face anymore. Does he not know that complimenting you to your brother won’t get him anything?”

“Leave him alone, Jack,” you roll your eyes. “He’s just being nice.”

“He’s into you. You know that, right?”

You scoff, finding it genuinely funny. “Of course he isn’t. We’re just friends. He’s just being nice, I just told you.”

“I thought you were a smart girl.” He wets his lips and not looking at it feels like fighting against ten thousand demons.

“Are you calling me dumb? To my face?” You raise your brow, watching as he frowns.

“I’m just saying that I thought you weren’t so oblivious, baby. When I told you you’re everyone’s type? I meant it.”

“Jack,” you sigh, defeated. “Why are we having this conversation?”

“Because,” he steps closer, looking down at you. “It drives me insane to think that there’s a fuckhead sitting just a few feet away from us that thinks he’s the shit and won’t take your name out of his mouth.”

Your eyes softened, and you smile at him. “You’re jealous.”

“That’s for people who are insecure, baby. And that you already know that I’m not,” he smirks, resting his right hand on your chin, and you can feel his breath hit your face, making you hold back an embarrassing sound. “Do you need me to remind you how good I am?”

Your eyes double in size and you shake your head.

“Are you insane?” You shout-whisper. “You’re supposed to be back in New Jersey in a few hours. This is your team’s celebration dinner, for God’s sake. You’re not even supposed to be here.”

“And yet, here I am.”

He kisses you bruisingly, your teeth touching with the agressive yet extremely sweet action, and you moan inside his mouth, not realising, until now, how much you’ve missed him.

It was wrong but not kissing him felt even more wrong.

He gently pushes you further into the bathroom, locking the door behind him and putting you on the counter, making you hiss with the coldness of the marble against your exposed thighs and throbbing core.

“Jack.”

“Fuck, I missed hearing you say my name. One more time for me, pretty.”

“Jack.”

He kisses you again, and you busy yourself with messing up his hair, still a little bit damp from his previous shower. It smells nice and fresh, just like the rest of his body.

“We need to be quick,” You whisper against his mouth, his eyes staring at you, lust and desire written all over his face. “We’re not even supposed to be here and we don’t have time—”

“Put your hands on that wall over there,” he whispers, signaling to the wall on the other side of the bathroom. “I’m gonna fuck you from behind. Is that okay?”

“As long as you fuck me.” You shrug, getting off the counter and doing as he says.

He laughs. “I’ve created a monster.”

He’s quickly behind you, and you hear the filthy sound of his hands unzipping his fancy pants, as you quickly lift your skirt, putting your panties to the side.

“Spit.” Jack asks— orders—, putting his hand in front of your lips, and you do, the red that painted your cheeks deepening.

He’s inside you not long after that, and you both moan loudly, forgetting for a few seconds that there are at least one hundred people outside. You can feel your walls squeezing his cock as you try to find some kind of support on the wall in front of you.

“Jesus fuck, Sarah, how are you even tighter than last time?”

“Because, ah,” he’s pouding against you, the sound of his crouch slapping against your ass making you feel dirty and so fucking good. “Haven’t been with a-anyone else.”

“No?” You can hear the smirk on his face. “Just your little fingers then?”

You nod with your head, eagerly moving it up and down, moaning loudly and just a few seconds away from ruining your makeup.

“Baby, you need to be quiet,” Jack says, and his hand slowly leaves your waist, making its way to your mouth, caressing your entire body before it covers your lips completely. “I love it when you’re loud but have you forgotten we’re not alone?”

You roll your eyes at him, as he keeps hitting that spot inside you that makes you see the entire galaxy without needing a telescope. His dick is deep inside you, so fucking deep.

“Jack, fu—”

“Sarah?”

You and Jack both freeze as Zack’s voice echoes through the room. He removes his hand from your mouth and rests his forehead against your head.

“Oh my God.” You whisper, ready to remove yourself from Jack’s grip and leave the bathroom.

Jack doesn’t have the same thought as you, though. He removes his length until just the tip is inside you, just to slam his cock inside of you again, reaching deeper than before.

You bite your lips hardly, feeling the taste of coper fill your mouth, the pain of tearing your lips hardly noticeable— your heart was beating so fast inside your chest that it seemed too insignificant to be preoccupied with a little bit of blood.

“Sarah, are you okay?”

“Answer him,” Jack whispers, as he keeps fucking you, this time reaching down and rubbing your swollen clit too. “Sarah. Answer him.”

“I— I—,” stuttering, you try to focus. “Y-yes?”

“Are you okay? You’ve been in there for a while.”

Jack pinches your sensitive nub and you can feel the tears start to form in your eyes.

“Pretty.”

“I’m, f-fine, ah,” you shake your head, putting your hand on top of Jack’s but not making any move to stop him. “Just— headache.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. Do you want any help?”

“Fucking asshole,” Jack mumbles, your orgasm building up quickly than ever. “Tell him you’re fine, baby. Come on.”

“I’m fine, ah, thank you.” Biting your own hand, you feel your body shivering underneath Jack’s. “I’ll be b-back in just a second.”

“Alright,” Zack sounds convinced. “I’ll warn your brother.”

Even with your loud breathing you can hear Zack’s steps as he gets further away from the bathroom, and you barely have time to think properly before Jack is slamming his cock hard and fast inside of you again.

“You’re so fucking wet, baby, tell me. Does it turn you on the fact that anyone could catch us at any moment?”

Yes.

“Too bad I don’t share what’s mine.”

“Jack—”

“Fucking asshole wanted to be the one inside you right now,” he snarls. “No one will ever fuck you like I do, baby.”

“Hmh,”

“This pussy here,” he pinches your clit again, twisting it between his fingers making you gasp for air. “Will only get this wet for me.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck—”

“You were made to take my cock, baby. Made to be mine.”

Your makeup was most definitely ruined by now. It didn’t matter. Your mind was too focused on coming to care about anything else.

“Say it, baby, come on.” Jack whispers in your ear, kissing your neck afterwards.

“It’s yours, Jack,” you nod with your head, feeling your orgasm closer than before. “I’m yours, and I missed you so bad and—”

You come on his fingers, your thighs shaking as he continues to poud on you, not caring if you’re sensitive or not. He takes his dick out of your pussy after a few more thrusts, coming all over your cheeks.

Your uncontrolled breathing fills up the entire room, the smell of sex and sweat making you blush. Jack’s forehead is on your shoulder, and you can sense he’s just as tired as you.

“Sarah,” he mumbled, and you sigh, humming. “Be my girlfriend. I don’t care about Zegras, I never did. I’ll let him beat me up everyday if that means you’ll be the one helping me get up at the end of the day.”

You chuckle tiredly. “So romantic, aren’t you, Hughes?”

“I try my best.” He murmurs against your skin.

“I will be your girlfriend. But just know that if you cheat on me, or anything like that, Trevor will fuck you up, and I’ll let him.” You say, laughing quietly.

He moves so he can grab a piece of paper, wetting it and cleaning you, making you shiver with the cold water on your back.

“If my own brothers don’t kill me first.”

“Touche.”

#jack hughes #jack hughes x you #jack hughes x oc #jack hughes fic #nhl x reader #jack hughes au #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes smut #jack hughes x sister!reader #nhl imagine #nhl fic #nhl fanfiction #nhl players #nhl hockey #hockey #TM(HTMHC)#jh86

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itsabouttimex2 · 2 months ago

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Any fandom trends in LMK you literally can’t stand?

Urgh fucking absolutely.

Every now and then (often in the cycle of several months) there’s a new fic/comic that circulates the fandom promising that it’s going to be “The nuanced portrayal of Macaque and Sun Wukong that all of you were waiting for!” and the fandom cheers and claps and begins to hype and recommend this fic to every little corner of the audience that it possibly can, on twitter and reddit and tumblr-

Except the author’s idea of “nuance” is fucking inevitably:

“Sun Wukong gets his asshole verbally ripped and his teeth kicked in every other chapter and Macaque gets lightly scolded every five chapters and also everyone loves and forgives him and is on his side without any trouble. Also Wukong is a big bumbling dumbass who can’t tie his own shoes without making people hate him. Also Macaque never ever makes mistakes because the author likes him too much just doesn’t. But if he does no one calls him out on it. And if they do they’re in the wrong. And we’re going to address and rip apart Wukong for all of his shortcomings and mistakes, while pretending that Macaque has never done anything wrong. Look how nuanced I’m being!”

This also inevitably comes with a hefty helping of a side dish of “the author doesn’t know the difference between killing for fun and killing in self defense” that is never fun to deal with under any terms, where Sun Wukong puts down Macaque because the latter is a legitimate threat to either Wukong himself, his fellow pilgrims, a town or even the world, and then being treated like a cold-blooded murdered because the author can’t comprehend morality he committed the grave sin of “self-defense”.

(And yes, I’m aware that portraying a flawed relationship as nuanced isn’t a situation of splitting the blame exactly 50/50, it’s engaging with both sides of a situation and giving them proper care in regards to the context arisen from conflict and abrasion, etc. But when you’re hitting us with a 90/10, man? Just tell us that you’re biased! People will still read your stories!)

(And obv this doesn’t include villain AUS)

It’s just so fucking tiresome to hear the constancy hype around a big new “nuanced” fic and then it’s more of the fandom typical “shitting on Sun Wukong”.

The most recent one was genuinely so egregious in spite of the constant hype that I stopped reading Monkie Kid fanfic on A03 almost entirely at this point.

It’s just not worth the hassle.

#Time Talks #Lego Monkie Kid #LMK #LMK Fandom Critical #Sun Wukong #Macaque #Shadowpeach #Sundial #I’m so fucking tired #of this shitty fandom trend of calling clearly biased things ‘nuanced’#just because it ends with two characters getting together

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revelboo · 2 months ago

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Last Night Pt 3

IDW Bumblebee x Reader

• Carefully wrapping a blanket about you, he shifts you in his grip, enchanted by having someone even smaller than he is around. He knows some of the other bots are still on the fence about humans, but he’d been fascinated since he’d seen Wheeljack’s the first time. Tiny, but shaped curiously like a Cybertronian, soft with no natural defenses. Helpless compared to them. Everything about it had stirred his protective instincts. His curiosity. But he’d never meant for this to happen. Running a knuckle along your spine, he vents sharply when you stir in his grip, a little unhappy noise escaping you as you lift your head. Spot him and scream.

• The nightmare isn’t over. That big, yellow thing has warm metal servos curled around your middle, its denta bared in a grimace as you struggle to get away. Screaming to be let loose. And it listens. Your knees give out when it tries to place you on your feet and you fall on your butt in an awkward sit on the surface it’s set you on. Then it just backs up a step, both hands raised, palm out. “It’s okay. I won’t hurt you,” it says as you shudder. Needing to get away, to run, but too scared to move. “Look. See? I’m just, I’m going over here, okay?” Hands still up, it glances at a big metal berth and backs up toward it slowly as if it’s scared of you and that breaks through the terror gripping you as you clutch at the blanket draped around you. Watching it go and sit on the berth, hands still lifted in supplication. “See? We’re good.”

• Afraid to move in case you panic and hurt yourself, or Primus, help him, your little heart stops, he just waits. Watches you cling to the blanket he gave you as your breathing slows and your eyes dart around the room, then back to him in quick glances. “Where am I?” You ask and it’s a relief that you’re not screaming anymore. He wants to move closer, the fear on your face painful to watch. Knows that if he tries to hold you, to comfort you, that he might scare you again. So he lets his hands drop.

• “This is the Ark,” it says, glowing, blue optics flicking over your face, dipping to the white knuckled grip you have on the blanket. The voice is soft, masculine and friendly. “I’m Bumblebee,” it adds, he adds, you correct yourself. It’s hard to be scared senseless when he’s going out of his way to appear as harmless as a giant, metal robot can. Like he’s worried about frightening you. “Can I come closer? I won’t hurt you or-“

• “No,” you say with a shudder, the soft denial cutting him off and his shoulders slump. It’s not what he wants to hear, but he understands. You’re here now and not going anywhere. He can be patient if it means having someone to talk to, not being alone anymore. “Stay over there.” Sure. Whatever you need, just keep talking. Even if it’s just to tell him to go away or leave you alone. Even if you hate him, that doesn’t matter either. Just stay. Anything’s better than that lonely silence.

#transformers x reader #bumblebee x reader #idw bumblebee

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stillness-in-green · 2 months ago

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Some thoughts on The Discourse about the last BNHA cover

(Note: This Discourse was on Twitter. I don’t know how much of this may have been said here on Tumblr, so consider this either my contribution or just me reporting back on drama from other fronts.)

So, I saw a lot of back and forth over there between people who didn’t like the cover and people who did, and I spent a little while mulling it over. It seemed to me that the people who didn’t like it had a good point, but one they were not articulating particularly well, possibly thanks to the character limit and possibly also because the people talking about it tended to phrase their objections in sarcastic, consciously exaggerated terms because that’s the language months and months of dealing with the truly insufferable Horikoshi Defense Squad on Twitter primed them to use.

So what is the point? Basically this: In going for the lazy/easy callback in both the cover design and Dai (plate-hair kid)'s role in the final chapter more generally, Horikoshi landed on an "everything comes full circle" ending when what the story desperately needed was an indicator of change.

We didn't need to know that a kid with low self-confidence and nothing to speak of in the quirk department can still become a Pro Hero if he[1] wants to. We already knew that because it's what the whole story of BNHA was about! Deku passing the torch/paying it forward is nice if all you care about is Deku's personal arc, but it's sheer reductiveness if you care about literally anything else. If there was going to be a kid getting Deku's encouragement and help at the end, if that's the ending Hori was absolutely set on, it shouldn't have been the Deku Redux kid; it shouldn't have been the weak kid who has already been metaphorically proven capable of becoming a Hero.

1: And of course it would be a boy.

It should have been the troubled kid, the one from the bad family situation, the one who isn't sure whether he even believes in this Hero thing. It should have been the kid who, if nothing about Hero Society had changed, would’ve been rejected by the whole corrupt system—in so many words, the Tenko Redux kid. That's the one who we saw could not become a Hero under the previous system. That's who we needed to demonstrate the system's improvement.

Instead, all we get is Deku helping himself. And it fits, I guess, because “himself” is the only sort of person Deku ever wanted to save anyway—remember that in the very first chapter, Deku tells All Might that he wants to be a Hero because he was never “saved” as a kid and so he thinks saving is the coolest thing ever. Implicitly, then, Deku wanted to be the kind of Hero who could have saved the kid he was, and that tendency to reserve his compassion for people he can recognize himself in—the crying children and the Hero wannabes—is consistent throughout the series. Dai, then, simply becomes the very last of these examples, the chance for Deku to tell his middle school self that he, too, can be a great Hero.

And that’s quite a choice, isn’t it? Take a second to consider the implications there. The metaphorical parallel Deku helps is his middle school self, not his childhood self—there’s no evidence that Dai was bullied on the same level young Izuku was, and we sure didn’t see anyone telling him to jump off a roof. So, who does save those children, then, in this grand, improved version of Hero Society? Does anyone?

Well, not really. Not that we’re shown. Indeed, the child who was the closest analogue to young Izuku—a weak and seemingly quirkless boy who stuck his neck out for other rejected children, who still stubbornly wanted to be a Hero despite a parent's disapproval—was Tenko, and Deku pointedly did not save him.

To be clear, I don’t mean that just in the sense that Deku failed to save the adult Tenko became, but even in the emotional sense that the series clearly wants me to believe Deku succeeded at, the saving of the boy's heart? I don’t think Deku even managed that. Sure, he might have protected the echo of that child from a few memories, might have held his hands for a few exchanges of dialogue, but then the boy transformed back into the form of the Villain he'd become and was swallowed down the spiritual maw of the man from whom society failed to save Tenko to begin with! And what was Deku doing as this happened? Absolutely nothing but yelling impotently as he got blown backward and out of the mindscape.

Imagine that Deku had found some way to cheer up Izumi Kouta only for Muscular to kill the kid thirty seconds later. No one would be saying, “I think Deku still saved him—his heart, anyway,” if Deku got Kouta to smile and admit that Heroes were actually pretty cool only to do nothing but scream helplessly as he watched Muscular pulverize Kouta’s ribcage with one gentle squeeze.[2]

2: Mind you, this comparison is flawed! Unlike AFO’s vestige, Muscular doesn’t turn up to kill a child as a direct result of Deku’s own actions. Also unlike the events of the final battle, Deku doesn't jump up and personally administer the killing blow to the still-screaming victim, either.

It just leaves me thinking about some of the stuff @codenamesazanka has said about how the narrative treats Shigaraki and Deku helping him: not as something Deku has a duty to do, not something Hero Society on the whole owes Shigaraki (and all the other metaphorical expy/future Shigarakis), but rather a bonus, a nice extra, a demonstration to shine up Deku's Hero cred because he's making efforts no one else would bother with and that no one would reasonably expect him to make. It's not Deku’s job to save the Tenkos or the young Izukus of the world; apparently that just falls to society at large.

So then, what was the point of making Tenko/Tomura such an extreme case of someone who started in a similar place to Deku? Why make him, also, a weak kid who was told he couldn't be a Hero, if you're not going to have Deku save him in the way no one saved Deku himself?

From where I'm sitting, the answer is, "It seemed like a good idea to Horikoshi at the time, but proved to be poorly thought out." But if Deku failing to save his own closest childhood analogue was where the story was going the whole time, then Shigaraki should never have been used to parallel Deku to begin with. It's just a damned waste of Shigaraki as a character, an insult to everything he represented, to use him for ~the parallels~ throughout the entirety of the story except the very beginning and the very end.

Anyway, Pro Heroes are bullshit and the ending should have been them being radically reconceived from the ground up with input from all the people they failed to save. But again, if you have to still have Heroes-qua-Heroes at the end, and you have to have some stupid thematic echo because you as an author think callbacks are the single most compelling storytelling tool of all time, then everything we got on Dai should have been for Scissors-kun instead, and here I am very much including Dai's scene before the first war. An unsettling scene of a strange child with his mouth sewn shut, stuck in a straitjacket in a dark room should have been the last thing we saw before launching into the day of the raids, an apparent element for the future in the same way that so many future Villains were first shown in the wake of Stain's arrest.

See, Shigaraki’s own destructiveness is what ultimately frees Scissors-kun from the basement, “saving” this rejected, abused child in a way no Hero ever managed or even knew to try, just as Shigaraki brought light and a strange sort of hope to the lives of so many others whom Heroes failed. However, Shigaraki couldn't carry his ambitions through to the end. He was never able to meet the kid he indirectly saved, never able to offer that appallingly abused victim an avenue for his signature brand of rough justice. Heroes stopped him from doing so. So then, who will help Scissors-kun?

If we’re to believe that the story's protagonist has made a real difference, that Deku and his classmates have changed the world for the better, then we don't need to see them helping a kid who we already know is going to turn out fine because “he” aleady did. We need to see them help the people that previously only Villains would have helped, picking up the torch they struck from Shigaraki’s hands.

So sure, keep the scene with Granny Evil and Scissors-kun if you must, to show that it’s not only Heroes but also the broader Hero Society that’s changed. After that, though, show Deku stepping in. Show him taking an interest in this kid as a way to keep his promises—to Shigaraki, that the rejection and obliviousness that he sought to destroy have indeed been destroyed and will remain so, and to Spinner, that Deku will remember Shigaraki for the rest of his life.

When Deku is older and in a position to give advice to a kid who’s floundering and uncertain of what to do with his life because of what people around him say about him, make that character echo the characters the old system failed to save, not the character who the entire story proved would do just fine.

For god's sake, ditch Deku Redux.

Now, I know the obvious rejoinder here: We can’t use Deku’s story to say that BNHA already showed us that Dai would be fine because Dai has a quirk where Deku did not, therefore Deku’s path would not be open to Dai. To this, I would reply that neither Deku nor Dai specify that Dai wants/is able to be a top Hero, merely that he be the kind of Hero people can admire—which the story has also already proven true!

Ojiro got into UA with nothing but one (1) extra limb.

Manual has a perfectly middling quirk that turned out to be absolutely crucial in two different wars because it was the right quirk at the right time.

Wash’s quirk makes strong bubbles.

Like, this list is not short. Manifest Plates might or might not make Dai Hero Billboard material, but one of the major points of the endgame was the sublime and noble value of helping when you can, in the way that you can. So to reiterate, we didn’t need that to be proven again in the epilogue.

If anything, going the route of retreading the same story makes the epilogue much worse! Not only do we not get to see how this society is helping the people the old society most profoundly failed—victims who fall through the cracks and become Villains—but in seeing yet another a weak kid being mocked for his heroic aspirations, we find that we’ve barely moved a step beyond the exact same place we started.

That’s the message Horikoshi chose to go with, for both the closing chapters of the story and the story’s final volume cover. Truly, as art that summarizes the story goes, it’s a masterful choice! And that's the whole problem. The cover of Volume 42 is a perfect illustration of the self-absorbed, cynical, cyclical nature of BNHA's endgame. Little wonder, then, that it's hated by the same people who hated said endgame.

#bnha #bnha critical #green no. 2 #shigaraki tomura #bnha scissors-kun #more protag slander for the discerning palate #stillness has salt #bnha endgame

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xoxochb · 3 months ago

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— psycho killer ꣑ৎ‧₊˚.

warnings: chb setting, graphic violence, insane behavior, seduction-ish, two make outs pairing: ghostface! luke castellan x ghostface! daughter of aphrodite a/n: after ages I’ve finally finished this 😭🙏🏼

a ghost mask, a hunting knife, two beloved campers.

typically at camp when you heard anything about the hermes cabin counselor or the favorite daughter of aphrodite the mind would go to the perfect couple— and as this was indeed true, it wasn’t how they expected. one hundred percent not. It was almost obvious, the murders at camp. It wasn’t like you were trying to fully hide them, of course not. all the assholes you killed deserved to get their bodies shown on full display, to show off your handiwork. It was almost surprising how nobody knew the mastermind behind these perfect kills

the campers chosen for your bloodlust rage weren’t randomly selected this is why. each belonged to a certain point in your life, to a certain experience. such as an ares kid who threw you to the ground during a sparring session, or one of your siblings who made fun of your looks (in your defense an awful hair day, but who the fuck where they to be talking their outfit was three seasons out!), or a stupid athena kid thinking their the smartest in camp all “I know rocket science I’m better than everyone” bullshit. they might’ve got the worst of it. but there was more than just those three— you’d claimed the title ‘serial killer’ at this point. your killings didn’t go unnoticed though because luke castellan saw through your innocent act. how you’d be the first to every scene, how you’d dramatize every action trying to help mourn over the loss of many different campers who lost their lives to your hands. and he was surely not going to let you do this alone

tonight you had a conquered a perfect scheme with your partner in crime. thoroughly planned over the course of september, halloween night, campers busy with activities and your victim busy getting totally gutted!

“are you sure this plan is going to work?”

“are you serious?” you cross your arms and glare at your boyfriend “I’ve been working on this for a month and a half if this doesn’t work that’d be unlikely. and don’t you trust me?”

luke laughs softly and takes a step towards you, placing one hand around the small of your back, the other gloved hand cupping your jaw before you’re pulled in for a feverish kiss. and when he pulls away with a smirk against your lips he mumbles, “with my life”

you slip your knife from atop your bed into your hands. “then let’s do this”

⋆˚✿˖°

It was dark outside. a stygian hue filling the sky along with the small bright stars and the dull brightness illuminating from the moon above. not only was it dark it was fucking cold. though it was mid fall so you shouldn’t have expected anything less. In your lacy pink dress, you barely had anything on which wasn’t helping your cause either. with every step leaves crunch beneath you, left, right, left, right. until you at last reach your designated spot where your victim waits, paper in hand, twirling it around his fingers. you come up as quietly as possible behind him (or the tree behind him, whatever)

act i: currently in session

you put on your best I’m-so-happy-to-see you smile when you get close enough. “hey you”

the hepheastus boy turns himself with a seductive looking smirk. yeah you know exactly how this is going to go. you’d heard a rumor spreading through camp about this boy, apparently he’s a player, paying girls to have sex with him (which apparently isn’t a big deal but it might once stds start spreading, gross). regardless of this one reason you hated the boy anyways so it didn’t matter to you

his gods awful expression make you want to vomit on the spot, nonetheless you power through. “I was hoping it would be you. I always knew that stupid boyfriend of yours was a dud”

you roll your eyes and scoff. “ugh, I know right, he’s so pathetic”

you take the paper from his hands: a note written by your sister to meet her here. you throw it somewhere on the ground and fumble your fingers with the collar of the boys shirt, while his dirty hands wrap tightly around your hips

“are you gonna kiss me or what?” you mumble when your lips are close enough. but it’s almost as if the boy is aware there’s more to this meet up. doesn’t matter because once he hungrily connects your lips at last he won’t remember a thing

act ii: in the process

It was utterly disgusting— the way you let his hideous boy touch you, his hands gripping tightly over your dress in hopes it may disappear at any given moment. could this process take any longer? you began to wonder if your boyfriend had left you yo handle this on your own. yet at the same time you knew he wouldn’t let this idiot boy get away with putting his hands on you

you take matters into your own hands for the time being. while the hepheastus boy sucks along your neck you reach to your thigh where you had strapped your dagger. and almost as if on queue luke appears from within the bunches of trees. or so you hope— you don’t know for sure who it is until the ghost mask comes off. slowly but surely, through your sighs you manage to get the metal to the fabric of his shirt. luke gives you a nod indicating to make your move, quickly you shove the weapon into the boys abdomen, crimson liquid instantly pouring over your dress and the grass. the boy tightens one hand round your dress, the other touching the knife placed in his stomach. his head lifts from your shoulder to look up at you, the same blood pooling out from his mouth

and it’s heavenly, the sound he makes as he falls to the ground in agony, attempting to plea for you not to let him die, but of course you can’t hear over the liquid in his mouth all he can do is spit it out. you smirk and crouch down to his level admiring your recent work, then looking up to luke. “wanna do the honors?”

act ii: completed

he takes his mask off, shoving it into his robes pocket before taking your hidden ax from behind the tree. “what do we do once we’re done with him?”

“we burn him. once he’s all ash there’s no proof he was murdered”

you stand up from your spot on the ground, looking at the amount of blood that had fallen onto your dress. you frown but ultimately chose to ignore it, that was a problem for later. for now, the last task of the night was to properly dismember the body and take it back to hermes cabin for burning. you feel a sudden ecstasy as his limbs disconnect, one by one, legs, arms, torso, head, feet, hands, until he was nothing but bits and pieces. even better, it was none other than your lovely boyfriend that had completed this process, instantly making your knees weak— even better than this, however, was his blood adorned face, how badly you wanted to kiss all of it off slowly…

and you can. when he throws the ax on the ground and walks towards you, his hands resting against your hips as he pushes you back against the tree. you moan in utter delight when luke finally attaches his lips with yours (this elicits a laugh from him). your whole body practically curves into his, you throw your arms around his neck tightly to keep him as close as humanly possible. his hands find themselves trailing down to your thighs and back up underneath your dress. the heat of the moment is palpable (though this probably isn’t an exaggeration as his fingers twirl around your underwear, taking his time as he slide them off), in a needy manner you tug his hair gently, and if it weren’t for his hands on you, your knees surely would’ve gave out and you might’ve collapsed by now. his tongue traces over your bottom lip, you can taste the blood, and you need more of it, whether that was his touch or the taste of the crimson liquid you’ve grown to love

“you’re perfect” he rasps against your lips, before disconnecting them and trailing down your neck “gorgeous”

he reaches your pulse point and keeps his lips there longer, for sure making a mark for you to struggle to cover up later. he bites down carefully on your skin, making you moan in response, in addition to this he grinds his hips into yours, evoking more soft sounds from your mouth. you stop him for only a moment to murmur, “y’know, there’s nobody in my cabin…”

and that was enough confirmation for the both of you to discard of the dismembered body for someone to find the next morning, and to settle (or not so much) in cabin ten for the night

꣑ৎ if you enjoyed then reblogs would be greatly appreciated! my requests are currently: open if you have any <3

#xoxochb #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo series #pjo fandom #percy jackson #pjo #percy series #pjo hoo toa #luke castellan fic #luke castellan x you #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #percy jackson x reader

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asbealthgn · 2 years ago

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(i am not immune to peer pressure so here's a continuation. part one here)

It’s so rare that Steve meets anyone nice anymore.

It’s just hard to find people. Dating apps suck, and ever since Robin and Nancy got together, they hardly ever want to go to bars together. And what’s he supposed to do, just drink alone and hope he stumbles across someone?

Well, that’s exactly what happened today, sans drinking. He was heading for the bus stop, a tiny bit lost but he had a map and was pretty sure he could figure it out. He realizes he’s a tiny bit directionally challenged, and he’s still relatively new in town, and Robin and Nancy just moved to a new place, so it all came together to mean that getting there would take some puzzling out. All the same, he was prepared to figure it out on his own right up until he saw the super hot guy sitting at the bus stop and figured a little help couldn’t hurt.

And that’s how Steve ended up with an unexpected date (sort of) to Robin and Nancy’s baby shower (not a real baby shower).

Robin answers the door and smiles, then does a double take when she sees Eddie. Whoops, Steve probably should have texted her that he was bringing someone. He’d gotten a little caught up in the moment.

“Hey, hope you don’t mind I brought a plus one,” Steve says, hugging her before walking inside. Eddie follows him.

“No, no, that’s fine,” Robin says, voice a little strange as they take their shoes off and she shuts the door. “We’re all in the living room.”

They follow her through the kitchen and into the living room where half a dozen calico kittens and several adults are on the floor.

“Oh my God, they’re adorable,” Eddie says, leaving Steve’s side to get down next to the kittens. Steve gets a huge smile watching him. Fuck, he’s super hot and he’s now holding a tiny kitten, cooing at it? Steve might just get on one knee right now. Or both knees. Honestly, either one works.

If he were paying more attention to literally anything other than Eddie, Steve would notice that nearly everyone else in the room is also staring at Eddie. The only exception to that is El, who’s sitting cross-legged on the floor with the mama cat in her lap, both watching the kittens with the same wide-eyed intensity.

There’s a tap on Steve’s shoulder, and he turns to look at Robin. “Can we talk for a sec?” she asks, voice still odd.

“Yeah,” he says and follows her back into the kitchen.

She crosses her arms and leans back against the counter. “So are you gonna tell me what Eddie Munson is doing in our living room?”

“Oh, have you already met him?” Steve asks.

Her eyes widen. “Are you being serious right now?”

“Uh. Yes?”

“Steve, that’s Eddie Munson,” she says, “From Corroded Coffin?”

“From what?” he asks, though as she says, it does sound a tiny bit familiar.

“Corroded Coffin?” she says, “It’s that band the kids love. Along with like half of America if they’re not completely scandalized by them.”

“So what, you’re trying to tell me Eddie’s famous?” Steve asks. Robin nods. “Hold on, this isn’t like Paul all over again, is it?” Paul was a guy Steve briefly dated a few years ago, and Robin had somehow convinced Steve that he was an Olympic athlete. In his defense, she had mocked up some seriously convincing news articles.

But Robin is shaking her head. “No, I’m serious this time,” she says. She reaches into her pocket and pulls out her phone. After a second she turns it around to show him the Google results for Eddie Munson. There are a lot of red carpets and pictures of him onstage. And damn, Eddie seriously is so hot.

“Alright, well, you definitely didn’t have time to photoshop these,” Steve mutters. Robin nods, patting him on the shoulder. How did he accidentally bring a famous guy over?

Just then, Eddie comes into the kitchen, a kitten in his hands.

“Stevie, look at her,” he says, holding the kitten up.

Stevie? Robin mouths. Steve kicks her as he reaches out to scratch under the kitten’s chin. It mews at him.

“I asked Nancy—she’s terrifying, by the way,” Eddie adds to Robin, “And she said I can keep her.” He lifts the kitten to his face and it purrs as it rubs its cheek against Eddie’s. Steve is actually going to combust.

“Alright, well, I’m heading back in,” Robin says, voice back to that strained quality as she escapes the kitchen. Eddie doesn’t seem to notice, too busy whispering praise to the kitten.

Steve scratches under its chin again and it purrs at him. “What’re you gonna name her?” he asks.

“Don’t know yet,” Eddie says, “Isn’t she per—oh, hold on.” His phone is ringing, so he moves the kitten to one hand as he reaches into his pocket and pulls it out. “Hey Gar….Yeah, ‘cause you abandoned me….No, I’m in Japantown getting a kitten….No, that’s not a euphemism….Listen, I’m kinda busy, I’ll call you later, alright?…Yeah, see you, man.”

While he was talking, the kitten clawed its way up Eddie’s shirt and into his hair. “What’re you doing in there, sweet girl?” he asks, tucking his phone back into his pocket and reaching for the kitten. It’s gotten very tangled in his curls, though, and apparently really likes being there.

“Lemme help you,” Steve says, stepping closer to Eddie and extricating the kitten. Eddie’s hair is very soft. Good to know. “Here you go,” he says, holding the kitten out for him.

“One sec,” Eddie says. He ties his hair up quickly (also hot, fuck) before taking the kitten back. He boops noses with it. “Such a mischievous little girl.”

“Well, can you blame her?” Steve asks. He brushes a loose curl behind Eddie’s ear. “Your hair seems like a nice place to be.”

Eddie smiles at him, a dimple appearing on his cheek. “I’ll be honest, Stevie,” he says, voice getting a little lower as he moves closer, boxing Steve against the counter. “At first I just came along because you’re gorgeous, but I think I’ve fallen in love.” He holds up the kitten in one hand.

“You think I’m gorgeous?” Steve asks, feeling his face heat.

“‘Course I do, big boy,” Eddie says, leaning closer and putting his free hand on the counter by Steve’s hip.

Maybe this is stupid and way too forward, but Eddie is so dreamy with his eyes and his dimple and his hair and the kitten in his hand, so Steve leans in and kisses him. It’s a little relieving when Eddie kisses him back, free hand lifting to his hair while Steve wraps his arms around his waist.

Steve doesn’t notice the front door opening or a new group of people that includes Dustin Henderson coming inside. He doesn’t notice them entering the kitchen and freezing as they take in the scene.

That is, not until Dustin shouts, “Holy shit, is that Eddie Munson?”

tagging a few people who asked for a continuation/asked to be tagged (sorry if i missed anyone!): @nburkhardt @stargyles @csinnamon-fox @manda-panda-monium @silly-jellyghoty @lifeisnotsobadonceyoustopcaring @starquirk

edit to add that this ficlet is complete and the last part is here

#gareth after finally coming to pick up eddie: oh my god that wasn't a euphemism??#meanwhile eddie is just sitting there grinning like an idiot holding a kitten in one hand and steve's hand in the other #okay also everyone's tags on the last one were amazing #i wish i could have stolen all of your ideas but they did not all fit together #unfortunately #steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #ficlet

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chokisnumber1fan · 4 months ago

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how far can we go? — one | next

“what’s a lassie like yourself doing all the way out here?”

your pace quickens and you try your best to ignore the constant pestering from the man who has been following you for the past ten minutes.

“all alone...”

you don’t have the time for this.

“surely i can help you with whatever it is?”

you take a deep breath and turn around to finally face your pursuer - a man clad in blue, clearly from meztli. he stops in his tracks, and so do you. you reach for the dagger behind you, strapped to your waist, as you slowly back away from him. “i’m not sure it is anything you can help with, i’m sorry.”

“come on, you’re not going to give me a chance?”

you survey your surroundings, and then yourself. there was nothing you could have done, you’re not a fast enough runner — but you are also not in a place that a lot of people go to. all you wanted was to get the embercore flowers that grow next to the phlogiston rivers underground, and right now it looks like it’s either the man or the phlogiston river that would end it all for you. you really should have listened to chief wayna when he told you not to go alone.

the grip on the hilt of your dagger tightens as you pull it out in front of you, and your heart quickens. “whoa, isn’t threatening me with violence a bit too much? all i wanted was your name, you know.”

“you don’t need to know my name.” you click your tongue.

“too bad then, i’ll just have to get it out of mualani.” he smirks, and inches closer towards you; closer and closer until you’re backed up against the walls of an old ruin behind you. he’s seen you with mualani before. your legs turn to jelly as you imagine what this man might try to pull with mualani. although you probably don’t have to worry about her as much as you need to worry about yourself, because she is strong enough. you? your combat prowess is average at best.

“d-don’t come any closer, i will stab you!” you warn, and his face visibly turns into one of frustration. “why don’t you just give up?” he says, teeth gritted in an awkward smile.

and then you say the magic words.

“i already have a boyfriend.”

the magic did not work.

“come on, pretty, your boyfriend doesn’t have to know,”

you click your tongue in annoyance. “i am very much in love with him, you know,” you don’t drop your defensive stance, and contemplate just making a run for it. and then you see familiar amber green eyes and the tension in your body dissipates, ever so slightly. “he is right behind you, by the way.”

“oh, stop trying to make a fool out of me— OW!” the man groans as kinich throws a dart at him and walks over to your side. a little too close. but you allow it. “are you alright, _____?”

“kinich!” you throw your arms around him and bury your face in his chest and shaking ever so slightly, ignoring the man who’s fallen to his knees in front of you two. “i was- i was so scared!” kinich slightly stiffens but only momentarily; and then he pats your back in an attempt to calm you down.

“there is no way this guy is your boyfriend? what have you done to me?!”

you want to reply but kinich shakes his head. he breaks away from you and pulls out another dart. “want another shot? this is a toxin that paralyses your skeletal muscles, so you’re not going to be moving for at least two hours.”

“i— no thank you, but are you really going to leave me all alone here?”

“surely you can hold out for two hours. let’s get going, _____.”

taglist !

@yuriisclumsy

[please send me an ask or DM if you would like to be added ♡]

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #kinich x reader #kinich x you #kinich #fake dating

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cheesiedomino · 11 months ago

Text

Reasons ꙳ ੭ * ‧

synopsis: though he’s afraid to admit it, chan has an undeniably huge crush on you. in attempt to get his point somewhat across, he drops a few hints leading all the way up until the Valentine’s Day office party, but will that mean he finally confesses his true feelings?

genre: bang chan x fem!reader | coworkers to lovers wc: 3.1k tags/warnings: fluff, office romance, mild cursing, mentions of alcohol usage, kissing, reader is kinda obsessed w/ chan’s body but who tf isn’t ??

now playing 🎧: dream girl by crisaunt

[this is the first installment of my new valentine’s series where i write a short story for each member surrounding the themes of love, newfound romance, relationship hardships & more.]

If there’s one thing Chan could never refuse to resist no matter how hard he tries, it’s you — nothing else came near as close. You were his Kryptonite, Achille’s heel, whatever you want to call it. Chan was willing to do just about anything for you, ask him to jump and he’ll promptly answer “how high?” You had him wrapped around your little finger with a pristine, glittery bow. Some could say it was quite uncanny how he’d avidly jump at your every need and request. Whether it be from a small but adoring comment about the way you looked in your outfits or whenever he sees you struggling with something, he drops any amount of work he was doing to go help you instead. There’s no way he was doing all this just out of the kindness of his heart, everyone saw right through those tactics. Clearly there was an underlying ulterior motive in the back of his mind, and most people with a brain knew of this as fact not fiction.

Everyone that is, except you.

The minute someone brings Chan’s name up you get super defensive. You often feel the need to because of how almost every person in the office ships you two together. One of the main instigators— Mirae, your cubicle neighbor and karaoke buddy, had a habit of doing this constantly. She’s the first ever friend you made here and is a total ray of sunshine to work with, but also has the biggest mouth. She’d go around telling people that Chan has a crush on you all because he does so many selfless gestures to “impress” you. Once that got around , rumors began spreading like wildfire and suddenly it turned into you and Chan were dating.

As soon as you heard all of that you immediately shut the suspicions down, explaining that you two were simply just friends and how he’s a sweet, gentle soul. Which he most certainly is but his friendliness didn’t only stop at you, it extended to all the other employees as well. He’s the type of person who would make sure everyone else has food and a warm shelter before worrying about himself in the freezing cold. There aren’t many out there with a noble personality like Chan’s, he’s like an elderly man trapped in a young person’s body, always giving the most wise and stark advice. His way of thinking may be a little old fashioned but that didn’t make him boring by any means, he was quite fun when he wasn’t so immersed in his work.

You’ve tried to get him to let loose a bit more, even invited him out for drinks after work with your other coworkers but he declined each time. It never felt like rejection to you though, he’d be smiling the whole time he’s saying “no” but it didn’t seem disingenuous. The only reason he never took up any of your offers were either one of 3 things:

A). He’s far too nervous to get drinks with you

B). He’s too buried in his work

C). The gym is his second home

You and Chan are two vastly different people. He’s definitely the more laidback type who likes to stay at home while you love to going out and enjoy a fun night on the town with friends. Despite him knowing this, he’s never been one to judge your choices or care about what you decide to do outside of work. He even brings you hangover medicine when you come back on Monday looking like you’ve had way too many last weekend — a literal angel in human form. You wonder who the lucky lady will be that gets to marry him someday, it’s evident he’ll be a family man and would most certainly be the best dad any child could ask for. He truly possessed every lovely quality there is all in one person, a rarity that’s more hard to come by each passing day. You don’t know what you could’ve done in your past life to deserve to know someone like Chan, but you don’t regret it one bit.

This morning went like any other typical morning, you’d come to work slightly exhausted from being out later than expected. Usually, Chan would go up to your cubicle and flash a doting smile at you as he places a fresh cup of coffee on your desk. It’s always the little things that made you most content, a handsome guy delivering you your favorite cappuccino — sounds like the ideal life. However, things were slightly different on this particular morning.

Awaiting you at your desk was a large bouquet of flowers displayed in a decorative ceramic vase, accompanied by your warm beverage. You also notice something peeking out from the petals, a small white envelope without a name on it. Curiosity gets the best of you, rushing to open it and read what follows:

‘happy Valentine’s Day ___, these flowers will never be as gorgeous as you but I hope they bring you joy or at least make you half as happy as you make me everyday that I’m with you.

- CB.’

Well, you definitely weren’t expecting that note to be so… sweet ? Though it was a bit short, the message was clear, whoever wrote that really wants you to know exactly how they feel. You had to admit, reading that did make your heart skip a little— maybe even had you blushing and twirling a couple strands of hair. What caught you most off guard were the initials, ‘CB’, those letters seemed awfully familiar. Then you realize there’s only one person whose initials you personally knew that could match those; your coworker Chan. Your throat goes dry as you nervously attempt to swallow, unable to form any stable or coherent thoughts. Nothing, and you mean absolutely nothing, could’ve prepared you for this kind of revelation.

Scoping out the area to see if Chan was around, you couldn’t seem to find him anywhere. You consider the idea of texting him but ultimately you decide not to as you think it’d be weird to assume he even did this. They’re just similar initials that’s it, you’re probably reading too much into it. Maybe you really are going crazy or something.

“Oh my god, someone sent you those?!” A chirpy voice startles you, instantly recognizing it as Mirae who’s now behind you.

“Uh, yeah I guess so..” you acknowledge nonchalantly. Parting your lips just a tad as you take a sip of delicious espresso.

“Ah. I wonder who could’ve done it?” She fake pauses to take a gander at the possibilities, “It’s definitely not the guy with the Aussie accent and name rhymes with Pan!”

You almost spit out your drink. “Shut up!”

“Oh you know I’ll never do that sweetie.” She giggles at you being all flustered, “plus I’m right you just don’t wanna admit it.”

This is like an everyday conversation you have with her, it’s nothing new. “No, I’m a logical person and I know that me and Chan are just friends. That’s all we’ll ever be and nothing more!”

It’s exhausting having to keep defending yourself from the same rhetoric all your coworkers spew daily, and even more ridiculous how fast word gets out around here. Those rumors of you and Chan dating are still being told today, even after it’s been a good year and a half since it all started.

“Friends can also develop feelings for each other overtime y’know?” Mirae lazily rests her arm on your desk as she continues her speech, “I mean I’ve never fallen for a friend so I wouldn’t know.. but this is different! Do you not pay any attention at all to the way he treats you? He’s such a simp for you it drives me insane.”

Confused more than ever, you blankly stare back at her, “huh?” You just took every favor Chan has done as being a nice, thoughtful coworker.

“Okay I’ll give you an example, remember when everyone at lunch had that whole ‘Vernon is gay or bi debate’ and Chan agreed with every single thing you said even if it didn’t make sense? If that doesn’t scream simp behavior then I don’t know what does!”

Your doubt still doesn’t waver, “I just have a very compelling way of getting people to side with me!”

Mirae rolls her eyes so hard they could go to the back of her skull. “For the love of God ___, stop acting so dense at the obvious. It’s pretty much known in this entire office that Chan’s always been totally, 100% into you.”

“It is?” You blink rapidly.

“Yes! I can’t believe you’re even still shocked about this, the guy’s constantly making cartoon heart eyes whenever he sees you!” She states, voice laced with a dash of envy as she pouts, “I wish I had someone who looked at me like that.”

Her sadness is short lived when her face animates again, as if a light bulb just went off in her brain. “Wait I have the perfect idea, you should get him to ask you out at the Valentine’s party!”

“Um.. I don’t think he’ll go, he’s not a party kinda guy remember?” You sigh in reluctance, unsure of what to think at this point.

That doesn’t seem to bring Mirae’s mood down, she only reassures you with more positivity. “Trust me, he’ll be changing a completely different tune once he finds out you’re going.”

Work events are always somewhat a bit of a drag. You didn’t particularly care for them, but you do like socializing with most of your coworkers and other fellow staff on the team. The free alcohol is also another great selling point for you to go. Gina makes the best Jell-O shots and whenever there’s a work function going on she goes all out to prepare them. This time she made some strawberry daiquiri flavored ones, topped with a dollop of whipped cream and pink heart sprinkles to fit the theme.

You grabbed one immediately from the table, looking everywhere to see if you can spot Chan but still no luck. The fact this is making you slightly upset is beyond you, but you’ve never been one to fully understand your emotions. Maybe you were right after all for thinking he wouldn’t show up. Sometimes Mirae can try a bit too hard at getting your hopes up, but you had to figure out if he was the one who actually sent the flowers or not. ‘Who the fuck else could be CB?’ You thought, it had to be him, if not you’ll be blaming Mirae for years of mental damage and distress.

This job wasn’t the first thing you had in mind by any means, but it seemed like a friendly and open work environment when you came in for an interview. You ran into Chan that same day and he started talking to you in the lobby as you waited for your turn. He had the most illuminating, pearly white smile and his accent made the most mundane words sound a thousand times hotter. You secretly hoped you’d get this job just so you can talk to Chan all day. Fast forward to almost a year and a half later you’re now closer than ever and it feels like a privilege to work with someone as amazing as him.

As you finish your Jell-O shot, you try finding the nearest trash can but end up bumping into Gina. “Hey ___! Did you like the strawberry daiquiris I made?” She kindly surveys for feedback, flashing a cute puppy dog look at you.

“Duh, of course! I love everything you make Gigi, I might have to grab another one before they’re all gone!” You praise her kindly, “by the way have you seen Chan at all?” It was a bit a random of you to ask but you couldn’t just stand around and wait for him to magically show up.

Gina thinks for a moment and finally replies, “Nah I haven’t! Why’d you ask though?”

“Oh no reason really! Was just wondering I guess-” you awkwardly shrug off, taking a step back as you walk out the break room to go into the main hallway. Heading over to the water dispenser you grab a small paper cup and bring it under the cold water option, before pressing the button a deep voice causes you to freeze in place. Recognizing that raspy voice from anywhere, it was Chan calling out after you.

“Hey, ___!” You hear him shout from a distance, jogging towards you with an ambiguous look on his face. “Could I talk to you for a moment?” He asks once he gets closer, chest slowly rising up through his white collared shirt as he’s catching his breath.

You never really took note how chiseled his body looked, maybe it was the form-fitting material of the shirt but the outline of his pecs went perfectly in sync with the way his toned arms clung to the fabric. It was clear as day Chan takes working out very seriously, mesmerized by the sheer dedication it must’ve took to even achieve a dreamlike physique such as this. Realizing you still haven’t answered yet and have just been staring at this man’s chest for what seemed like centuries, you finally croak out a response.

“Uh, yeah- sure!”

He clears his throat in preparation, “There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you.. for a while now actually.”

Chan doesn’t seem like his usual keen self, he’s acting much more quiet and reserved, as if he’s got loads of worries on his mind. It makes you wonder…

Your heart began to race at a faster pace, not knowing what the outcome will be, you indulge in him anyway. “Hm? What is it? Don’t just leave me hanging, spill!”

Again he goes quiet, like there’s a force holding him back from saying what he truly wants. He’s usually a lot more confident and well spoken when he talks to you but this was a new side of Chan you haven’t seen before. You find it a bit endearing to be honest, it makes him more down to earth. What’s there not to like about him truthfully?

“Well uh.. you see I-”

“___! Where the heck were you we’re about to take another sho-” Mirae catches you two of you off guard, unknowingly walking in what seemed like a deep conversation. “Ohh, oopsies did I interrupt something? I didn’t mean to, s-sorry!” You noticed some of her words slurring a bit and couldn’t contain a tiny giggle, it didn’t take much alcohol for her to get tipsy.

The minute she’s gone and the two of you are alone once again, the energy shifts dramatically. You gaze up at Chan to see his brows slanted into a train of thought. He wasn’t saying anything, just staring right back at you with a cryptic look. Unable to gauge the direction of this situation, you think of what to possibly say to make it less cumbersome. Before you could utter a single word, he finally speaks up.

“Let’s get outta here,” He quickly suggests, yanking your hand as he roughly takes it in his palm to lead the way. His movements are swift and eager, knowing exactly where he’s going as you’re left with even more questions and zero answers.

“Where’re we going?” You sheepishly inquire, bewildered by his sudden unpredictable action.

He doesn’t answer you. Instead he’s continuing the journey, remaining in focus all the way until he reaches the back entrance. Opening the door in a hurry to make it outside, a rush of cool air hits the back of your skin from a tiny bit of flesh being exposed. Chan brings his hands up to your arms, pinning them to your sides as he pushes you back against the brick wall of the building. His hooded eyes were fixated on you like an animal looking at its prey. It almost felt intimidating, as if he was the whole universe and you were but a mere spectacle compared to him.

“Wait what’re you do-” you’re impatiently cut off as he leans in, pupils widening when you’re abruptly met with a pair of lips pressed against your own. You couldn’t move even if you wanted to, rendered still from the shock of this suddenly happening. An array of goosebumps scatter your suspended body, words can’t describe the way you feel in this moment— it’s pure bliss.

Eventually you do kiss him back once the shock wears off, parting your lips more to let him gain further access into your world. It was the most mind numbingly passionate, messy kiss you’ve ever experienced in a lifetime, wanting but Chan’s lips on yours forever and ever.

As you both pull away it’s quiet again, but not in an unpleasant manner as before. Now you’re silent because you’re admiring each other. Resisting the urge to grab his face and kiss him again, you watch intently at him biting on his bottom lip, giving you a sheer look of adoration and hunger. Your mind was in the highest state of euphoria, feeling like you’re on cloud nine. That kiss left you speechless, breathless, weightless, and all other adjectives in between.

“I can sit here and list off every reason why I’m in love with you, but I thought about it and figured this should be good enough to get my point across.” Chan suddenly expresses his true feelings while holding your hand tightly in his grasp. It feels like he can breathe again, as if a heavy weights been lifted off his broad shoulders. “Did you like the flowers I sent?”

You owe Mirae a huge apology the next time you see her.

“So it was you?!” A gasp escapes your lips, finally comprehending the fact that he’s genuinely liked you for this long. It still felt surreal to you that you even kissed.

“You didn’t realize it right away? I mean my initials were right there..” he nervously spoke once more. The effect you have on him is so dangerously good.

It’s hard to believe you were so oblivious to how Chan felt when it was all hidden in plain sight. You should’ve known something was up when he started learning how to cook the first week you met. During lunch you expressed that men who could cook were the ideal type of husband and since then he’s been on a mission to perfect his cooking and make you a proud wife someday.

Moral of the story? Life works in mysterious ways when finding your soulmate. The external forces come together to align themselves perfectly in harmony, bringing two beautiful souls to connect as one.

[End <3].

#skz fluff #skz x reader #bang chan skz #bang chan x reader #bang chan x you #bang chan fluff #skz au #stray kids fluff #stray kids x reader #stray kids imagines #skz scenarios #skz imagines #bang chan x female reader #skz x female reader #stray kids scenarios #skz drabbles #stray kids drabbles

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ambrosiagoldfish · 11 months ago

Note

HI! Can I request Vox, husk or anyone else with a s/o who has an addiction problem?

Yes I know my Grammar and punctuation is out of line 🙏🏽

Hazbin Hotel x Addict!Reader

(Vox, Husk, and Angel Dust)

Viewer Discretion is Advised!

Warning: Drug/Alcohol Abuse, Gn!Reader, Reader being defensive, happy-ish endings.

Request Box: Open

Word count: 1170

A/n: Hi! Thank you for the request! This is my first time writing both Vox and Husk so I had to do some research (and by research, I mean reading 2+ hours of how other write them) to get an idea of their main characterization.

I really enjoyed writing this as I personally have my own experiences with addicts and how it’s affected me as a person. So this was also a little bit of a vent post if anything. I also added Angel cause I think it fits the theme but also he’s one of my comfort characters and writing for him made me happy.

Hope you enjoy <3

Proofread like once so sorry for any mistakes!

Vox

He’s used to being friends/knowing addicts. I mean one of his closest allies (And TOTES not previous hook-up buddy) Valentino, is also an addict who also employs many as well. So he’s not a stranger to it.

So mostly he’s indifferent to it, almsot desensitized to it. He doesn’t really see a danger to it, I mean we’re in hell and you can’t exactly OD and die

But of course, death isn’t the only thing that can happen when you're an addict. The breakdown of you as a person often happens, as well as you being reckless with money. And this is where Vox starts to have a problem.

If you’re in a relationship with Vox, then clearly you mean a lot to him, he may not be the most expressive about it but he does. So to see the partner that he has opened up to and grown attached to deteriorate slowly in front of him is something he refuses to accept.

So one day he cancels a meeting with his staff and calls you to his office so you two will be alone. When you get there he gives you a cup of coffee and you catch up a bit. How was your day? Have you ate yet? Those kinds of things.

Until finally he decides to just break open the floodgates with one simple statement.

“Darling… I think you should get clean”

You were caught off guard at first

“It’s fine, What’s the problem? we’re in hell”

He then comes out with his honest opinion

“*Sigh* I know it’s hell and you can’t die… but surely you can see how it would make me a bit… worried for you.”

He paused

“I mean even last week you spent all the allowance I gave you on it and you would have starved if I didn’t buy you food, surely you can see why it’s a fucking problem!”

Eventually after talking and depending on how it goes you either agree to go clean or it ends with an argument and he’ll just try again later.

If you agree, he’ll make sure he’s with you ever step of your sobriety. Considering he’s one of the top rising Overlords and owns VoxTech he’s got money so He’ll higher the best people to help you go clean(Do therapist exist in hell?)

“Thank you dear, you have no idea how much this means to me”

Husk

Similar to Vox in a lot of ways but also really different. He himself is an addict with alcohol so he clearly understands the struggles of it.

He has lots of walls up but for someone who “lost the ability to love” he sure does care a lot for you. I don’t think he would try a get you to go clean, at least not right away (or even at the beginning of the relationship) simply cause he thinks he doesn’t have a right to judge. So in all honesty he might just let you be.

That is until he realizes that you do it to forget things and ignore your problems/past. He knew first hand that drowning your sorrows away with your choice of addictive vice did nothing but harm you.

Then when you two are alone at his bar he’ll talk to you about it in a similar way he did with Angel. Perhaps a bit more softer than he did with Angel but even then “softer” is a bit of an overstatement.

“Look, I know you got a lot of shit that you don’t want to think about… but doing this *sigh* it’s not going to work, at least not in the long term.”

“That’s rich coming from you.”

He laughs. I mean, you were right. He was single handedly the worst person to be judging you. But surely you can understand his point of view, right?

Either way though, he leaves it alone again. Occasionally bringing it up when you’re both alone. He expresses the same sentiment about it each time hoping that eventually, hopefully…you’ll come to see from his perspective.

When you do finally see that he’s worried for you and understand why, you agree to go clean. Which, for once in a long while, made his supposedly cold dead heart melt.

“Glad you finally came to your senses… Seriously, I’m glad…”

Angel

He is THE addict of the show, so obviously he knows what you are going through and THEN some. Now,. Here’s the thing, how he handles it depends HEAVILY on when exactly you got with him/when you started having you addiction problem.

If you started dating him when you already were an addict he most definitely wouldn’t question anything about it. Hell, chances are you both might have taken part in it together. And it’s only when he starts making progress in the hotel (post EP4) is when he starts realizing how bad of an influence you both were on each other.

If you started sometime AFTER you both started dating then this boy would honestly feel terrible about it, ESPECIALLY after EP4 when he actually started being sober more often. He’d feel like he was a bad influence on you and that it was his fault you turned to your addiction.

Either way though, he will eventually realize that he doesn’t want you to be/continue to be on the same path he was. He’d talk to Charlie about arranging you to stay in the hotel, either in your own room or you guys could share one (he would honestly prefer the latter) and then after the preparations are made he would finally ask you too

Angel wasn’t expecting it to be easy, he gets what it’s like to suddenly be asked to go clean. And he knows how addicts act when they don’t get there vices, how he acts. So he mentally prepared himself for the worst first before asking you to come over and talk.

“Uh… Y/n can I talk to you about somethin’?”

You nod your head

“I’ve been thinking and… I think you should crash here at the hotel with me… and’ go clean.”

You only laugh “Angie I’m glad this hotel thing is workin’ for ya but that’s not really my style. No- I mean, I’m fine!”

Angel knows he put you on the spot, so he lightens off a bit but continues pressing on. He explains how he feels and how he doesn’t want anything bad to happen to you, to end up where he is. The poor boy starts crying honestly with how much he’s worried. He rarely opens up to people so this was a big step for him.

Seeing how much he cared and worried about you really put into perspective how important this was to him. So you agreed after some thinking.

“*sniff* thank you Baby, I’ll be there with you every step of the way… I love ya’ you know.”

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moneymartin · 8 months ago

Note

nika hcs? anything tbh…… maybe things she’d do in a relationship! :)

gf!nika hcs ✧.*

warnings: suggestive content and smut at the end under the divider :p

afab!r

a/n: anonie this is so kyoot thank u 🥸 kind of long?? i got carried away 😣

my beautiful croatian baby where do i even start with you…

this girl is the definition of ALL THE FIVE LOVE LANGUAGES

defff loves having conversations. could talk to you for hours on end and never ever get tired of hearing you talk

long talks = a good relationship w her

you two 100% play basketball together

promises to go easy but goes absolutely batshit crazy on you when shes playing defense

will literally break your legs if she has to just so she can score when shes on offense

when you guys go to the gym you spot her sometimes and her shirt always rides up andddddd and

ok what i’m saying is you love her abs

they’re great.

LOVES being touchy

esp in public… has no shame whatsoever and isn’t ashamed of it

keeps her hands on yours, grabs your arms, or always holds your thigh when she has the chance

also really super possessive and protective over you. if she sees someone staring at you for more than a second she’ll start to make out w you in front of them so they scram

hugs you in front of them too with her head over your shoulder so she can stare them down while you’re incredibly oblivious to what or why shes doing it 😭

she marks you up in easy to see places so ppl know that you’re taken…

also gave you a bracelet or necklace with her initial on it and a heart charm or something like that😇

when you guys cuddle shes 100% big spoon no debate abt it

loves seeing you all tired she thinks its adorbs 😢

plays with your hair while you try to fall asleep or does it while you’re on the phone trying to sleep

but if she’s in a really bad mood she’ll switch and be lil spoon

makes you scratch her back so she can relax before she sleeps

and you gladly do it!!

love love lovess doing the little things for you

if you’re sick she will cook you up something good asfk for breakfast in bed

babies you the whole time too cause she can’t help herself ☹️

when she’s at an away game and you can’t make it she has this little notepad and writes love letters on them for every day she’s gone (iykwim)

i feel like she’d spoil you too !

mention one small thing and she’s already ordering it off of amazon

if you mention an artist she’s buying you tickets to their concert already 🙇‍♂️

new clothes like every week i swear

acts of service is her thang too

will do the dishes or the laundry whenever you need her to

she doesn’t even say no either like she’ll stop whatever she’s doing and will do what you ask

drives you all over the place even if its in a wholeee different state 🥲

when you can’t make dinner she’ll do it for you

i feel like she’s also very open to trying new things

maybe new foods with you or new date ideas when you get bored of the reused ones

i think she’d LOVE roller coasters

thats probably the one place you two would never get bored of

cooks you croatian food 🥹

in summer she takes you there too and you get to go to all the places she went to when she was a kid there 🙁

loves talking abt her home country. she’s so proud of it

soft dom. NO DOUBT ABOUT IT.

your pleasure is incredibly important to her

she doesn’t care about what she feels, she cares about what you feel

def uses a strap i can tell… she’d use it most of the time

LOVES overstimming you though its something she can do for hours but will stop when it seems like too much and you’re practically sobbing 😭😭😭

rough unless asked to be soft and gentle

service top is what i mean

10000% cusses in croatian 😩

like she’ll be face deep in between your legs and she’s mumbling curses under her breath and its SOOO HOT

when she tops too her face will be right next to your ear and every time she moves she’s grunting something in croatian

honestly i feel like she’d be a scratcher if you ever switched it up

marks and dots of blood ALLLLLL OVER YOUR BACK

you try to show them off afterwards so she knows how pathetic she ended up becoming 😇

MY GOD

I NEEDDDD HER

#be gentle i kinda like these #nika muhl x reader #nika muhl #wbb x reader #wbb x you #wcbb x you #wcbb x reader #uconn wbb x reader

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meelusinee · 2 months ago

Text

SUN-KISSED LIPS | B.Z X READER

word count \ 2.3k | fluff & stuff | slash / blaise zabini x reader

in which Blaise takes you out on a date in Italy after your O.W.L exams author's note at the end!

SUN KISSED LIPS | B.Z X READER

Exams had been stressful, to say the least.

Potions was absolutely dreadful. Snape’s watchful eye feeling like it was zoned directly onto you, any mistake you made seemed to displease the man even further than what you thought possible. Then Charms, where you had to remember at least 50 spells within the span of maybe two minutes. The written section for Transfiguration was absolutely dreadful, as was the showcase of Mandrake handling for your Herbology exams. Not to mention the abomination of your History of Magic exam, though you felt like everyone could only recall one or two things by that point of the week. Defense Against the Dark Arts was last, the only class you felt you had done something good in.

All in all, very stressful.

And that stress was not lost on Blaise either.

Blaise, your sweet and caring boyfriend, has had to handle most of your exam stress for the past month. Most of the time though, you were shutting him out in favor of studying.

He couldn’t blame you much, the O.W.L exams were important. Not everyone could buy their way into Ministry jobs, they would have to work for it. Your work ethic was always something that Blaise truly appreciated about you.

But right now, that work ethic was getting in the way of his love life. Which obviously meant that he had to devise a plan.

“Amore mio,” he whispered, hands moving to scratch at your scalp as you leaned over your desk. “The exams are over, what’s there to be stressed about?”

“I haven’t gotten my results back yet!” you said, the bone of your palm hitting your forehead before pulling roughly at your hair. “What if I failed all of them? I mean, these exams are really important. If I fail all of them, I won’t be able to do anything with my life.”

Blaise chuckled softly at that, gently pulling your hands away from your hair before kissing the top of your head. “Bambina, we have Umbridge this year.”

“God, don’t remind me.” you groaned. “I’ll die, Blaise. Actually die. She’s going to fail all of my exams, isn’t she?”

“Love,” he chuckled, pulling up a chair and sitting next to you. “Look at me.”

Blaise watched as you sighed before looking over at him, cooing softly as he finally saw your face for what felt like years. Your eyes were dark and swollen, both from a lack of sleep and crying. Not to mention how stressed you looked all together, with a sunken face and large pout that melted away at his heart.

“Tesoro,” Blaise whispered, his hands moving to hold yours. “You passed, my love. I know you did. You’ve been studying so hard for so long there’s no way you didn’t. I promise all of the professors will easily be giving you O’s on every exam.”

“But what if I fail?” you groaned, sniffling softly.

“You won’t fail.” Blaise said sternly, squeezing your hands. He didn’t want you beating yourself down anymore. “Plus, Umbridge likes me, and by association likes you. Maybe not the best person to like you, sure. But I promise it could help with your exams, the exams you don’t need help with in the first place.”

“You’re going to use bribery to get me perfect grades?” you chuckled quietly, scooting your chair a bit closer to him.

“I don’t think my bribery would be as effective as some people’s bribery.” he muttered, fingers caressing the back of your hands. “Maybe Draco.”

“How on Earth would you bribe Draco?” you giggled softly, looking up at him.

“Hookers.” Blaise shrugged, before smirking. “Which gives me a bit of an idea.”

“We are not hiring a prostitute.” you said.

“No, but we are going to go on a date.” Blaise smirked, standing up and walking over to your wardrobe. “Do you still have that black dress I got you last month? Or maybe the red one.”

“Blaise!” you chuckled, standing up and moving to stand beside him. “Where on Earth would we even go? We haven’t made reservations or anything.”

“We don’t need those.” Blaise said, nudging you with his elbow. “Put on a nice outfit, we’re going on a date.”

“This is ridiculous.” you giggled, arms wrapped around his as the both of you walked down the sidewalks of Italy.

In the time that you took a shower, put on a nice sundress, and did your hair and makeup, Blaise had found a portkey to an Italian plaza. In Italy. The sun was still in the sky by the time they got there, the sun setting in just a couple of hours.

“What about it is ridiculous?” he asked, smiling softly down at you. “We’re going shopping.”

“Shopping in Italy!” you said, giggling softly. “Like, what about that isn’t ridiculous? Just 10 minutes ago I was at Hogwarts, now I’m in Italy.”

“It’s nothing.” he said, the both of you stopping in front of a clothing store. “I want to get you a new dress, is that okay?”

“You got me two already this month, and we’re not even halfway!” you giggled, looking up at him. “Do I really need another one?”

“This one’s from Italy though, bambina.” Blaise smiled, kissing the top of your forehead. His hand was resting on your waist, the other hand moving to open the door for you both. “Plus, you’ll need a swimsuit as well.”

“I do?” you asked confusedly.

“Yes you do, c’mon.” he smiled.

The both of you walked into the store, Blaise guiding you to the swimsuit section. The first piece there was a red and white plaid one-piece, much similar to a picnic blanket. “I think that we should have a picnic at the beach.”

“If I have to wear a picnic blanket, so do you.” you said to him, hands on your hips.

“Maybe just plain red?” he asked you.

“I suppose that works.” you muttered, grabbing one of the swimsuits and holding it by the hanger. “What kind of dress did you want to buy me anyways?”

“I was thinking black.” he muttered, his hand resting on the dip in your back as you both walked to the dress section of the shop. There were shorter dresses and small sun dresses, though your gaze immediately turned to the more elegant ones at the top. “Maybe with velvet. Or a ball gown.”

“I am not letting you buy me a ball gown.” you said, wagging your finger in his face. “That is too much!”

“But then everyone would know that you’re a princess, wouldn’t they?” he smirked, eyes darting to look at the different dresses. “That one?”

It was a black silk dress, with a shoulderless sweetheart neckline and corset at the top. It was form fitting, and probably would cover your ankles. The top part before the corset was embroidered with small black gemstones, a small pattern of them also at the bottom.

“It’s really pretty,” you whispered, your eyes darting to the price tag. “But that’s too expensive. I couldn’t possibly accept it.”

“Sure you can,” he said, grabbing the first one off the rack and holding it against you. “It’d be yours, why couldn’t you?”

“Because it’s too much!” you said to him, looking down at the dress pressed against you. “Blaise, that is way too expensive. You’ve already bought me two dresses this month, don’t you have a budget of sorts? Surely you think this is too much too.”

“I’d rather dress you up than have my dad waste the worth of this on a pack of well-patted cigars.” Blaise said, kissing your forehead as he grabbed the swimsuit from your hands.

“Oh hush,” you grumbled out loud, trying and failing to grab at the dress and swimsuit from his hands as you both made your way to the counter. “I’ll get my revenge on you one day, Mister.”

“I’m sure you will, amore mio.”

The sun was just beginning to set as you waded your way into the water, small giggles escaping your mouth at the feeling of the cold water against your legs.

“It feels funny!” you said, smiling as Blaise pulled you into a hug. “You can feel it, right?”

“I can.” he smiled, peppering your face in kisses as you continued to laugh about the feeling. “It does feel rather unique, I must say.”

“It’s tickling me.” you said, holding onto his arms like a vice as the both of you waded further in.

“Are you cold?” he asked you, the water eventually making it up to your chests now. “I can put a warming charm on you, if you want.”

“It’s meant to be cold.” you said, arms wrapping around his neck as he lifted you up to carry you. “Plus, you’re rather warm yourself anyways.”

“Am I now?” he chuckled softly.

“Yes you are.” you said, booping him on the nose.

Blaise hummed softly, his finger tapping your back a couple of times before a small radio began to play. You looked around in awe, not having noticed the scenery before you two got into the water.

The water was absolutely breathtaking, the setting sun shining against it also giving Blaise the perfect sun-kissed look. His skin was absolutely glowing, and his smile mixing with the music made you feel like you just entered a romcom.

“You’re absolutely beautiful, amore mio.” Blaise whispered, humming softly to the tune of a song you didn’t know.”

“How’d you even get us to Italy?” you asked, chuckling softly at him.

“My family is Italian.” he hummed under his breath, raising his eyebrow at you. “You know that, don’t you?”

“I do!” you pouted. “I just didn’t think you’d have a bloody Portkey to Italy.”

“Well, I do.” he chuckled softly, nuzzling his nose to yours. “And now you know.”

“Good.” you hummed, nodding softly.

The two of you stayed in the water for a long while. You waded down to where the water would hit your shoulders, Blaise following close behind you as you both started to try and dance in the water. The sun set and made way for the moon, shining down on you as echoes of your giggles filled the night.

“Why don’t we go get some dinner?” Blaise whispered softly, his lips brushing against yours. “You’ll have to try the dress back on eventually.

“I’ll race you!” you said, the both of you wading your way to the shoreline. Blaise had originally beat you, but stayed behind and let you go first.

“I win!” you giggled, smiling as Blaise patted your skin dry. “Where are we going to eat?”

“This one restaurant I know, they serve the best pasta.” he whispered, kissing your lips as the both of you walked off of the shoreline and towards the plazas again.

You and Blaise were walking to the restaurant together, hands held together as he directed you. His hands had been all over you all day, especially when he helped you put on the dress and do your hair and makeup for the date.

Which led you to where you were right now, in a black dress to match his black slacks, the both of you standing in front of a rather fancy restaurant.

“What are you going to get?” you asked him curiously, smiling softly as he walked you to a table. He pulled the chair out for you, his lips meeting yours once you sat down.

“Carbonara,” he whispered, sitting across from you after adjusting his tie. “You?”

“I don’t know much about Italian dishes,” you whispered. “I mean, I know some things. I don’t know if I know everything on this menu though.”

“Maybe you should start with something you know.” Blaise whispered, his hand moving across the table to meet yours. “Lasagna?”

“I love lasagna.” you whispered, turning the menu to the drink section. “What about drinks though? There’s just so many.”

“Anything you want, honey.” he chuckled softly. “You can get wine if you want. I’ll take you back home, okay?”

“Okay.” you smiled softly, giggling as you looked at the menu.

The waiter walked up and took your orders, the food eventually arriving with steam coming out. “This is really pretty.” you whispered.

“It is, isn’t it?” Blaise asked, chuckling softly as his fork swirled through his carbonara.

You swirled your fork around the lasagna before taking a small bite, blowing on it before placing it on your mouth. “This is so good.”

“Is it?” Blaise whispered, smiling softly. “Do you want to try some of my stuff?”

“It looks really good,” you whispered softly, scooting a bit forward in your chair as he handed you a small bite. “Thank you.”

“Does it taste good?” he asked, smiling softly.

“It does.” you whispered, smiling brightly at the taste of it. “I love both of them. And this wine, it’s also really good too.”

“Is it?” Blaise asked, chuckling at that. “Do you want a bottle to take back to Hogwarts?”

“We can do that?” you asked.

“Yes we can.” Blaise nodded, smiling softly.

“We so should!” you said, taking another sip of your glass of wine.

“Merlin,” he whispered softly, his hand caressing yours. “I love you.”

You both had made your way back to Hogwarts, your feet stumbling as Blaise helped you down into the dungeons. Down the stairs, through the Common Rooms, and down to his dormitory. His scent wrapped around you as he wrapped you in his blankets, a small smile coming on your face as you realized it.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your eyes looking up at Blaise with a sleepy expression. “For this.”

You felt a lot better despite your impending test results, a lot calmer than you were not seven hours ago. This date was probably one of the best things that had ever happened to you.

“It’s okay,” Blaise whispered, his hand caressing your cheek as he kissed your forehead. “You need some rest, can you get some for me?”

“Okay.” you whispered, nodding softly.

AUTHOR'S NOTE

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAa this one was so fun to write oh my gawsh. beta-reading still sucks, but hey i got it done!

as alwayss, please like, comment, reblog, or whatever jazz you feel like doing. it really really helps out a lot more then you guys think it does, and i really really really appreciate it. if you have any requests, i have a masterlist full of characters i plan on writing for! so go check all that out, and have a great day!

#blaise zabini #blaise x reader #blaise zabini x reader #blaise zabini x you #blaise zabini x y/n #fluff #extra fluff #fanfic #fanfiction #harry potter fanfiction

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