#hopefully you still like it nonnie!

[multifandomsimagine]

Imagine being Aaron Tveit’s girlfriend and him coming to see you play Elphaba on your first live show on Broadway

——— Requested by anonymous  ———

Giving the fan a nod and a smile as they walked away to their seats with the playbill he just signed clutched tightly to their chest, Aaron turned forward and began to open his own playbill. Flipping through the pages, he skimmed through the articles and ads until he reached the page he was looking for: the cast information. Right there on the first row was your smiling face looked straight at him.

He knew you were probably trying to calm your nerves in your dressing room as you counted down the minutes until it was time for you to go the stage if yesterday was any indication. Aaron had spent all of yesterday helping you with one more practice session, going over your lines and reading through the lyrics with you to make sure you knew everything.

It was after you seemed to know everything forwards and backward that he took you in his arms and tried giving you a pep talk as you were still feeling anxious about your stage debut.

"Hey what you're feeling is totally understandable. Everyone in theater gets nervous about their first time on stage. I know I was in Hairspray."

[lovecolibri]

SaL anon here friend, hoping you had a long, relaxing, holiday weekend!! Not a big Thanksgiving person myself, but I do like sleeping in. So tell me, should i start watching The Rookie, since it's a long wait after the mid season finale. Speaking of which, I'm mentally preparing for tomorrow, by which I mean bracing myself for some nonsense cliffhanger since they've literally set nothing up for any of the characters. Maybe the previews will change my mind, at least there's an actual fire??

Hello friend! We still had some of my mom's family in town from the wedding so that made Thanksgiving nice. I'm a big fan of food (especially the kind that results in leftovers), and lazy days relaxing and being cozy so that's always nice. We had my niece again though for almost a week and whooo boy does she tire me out. I also cannot get rid of this cough so I tried to do as little as possible, and mostly binged tv while working on a new crochet craft my office mate requested for a Christmas gift for her daughter and watching my room fall even further into disarray and disaster. We also tore out our living room carpet. Needless to say I do not feel rested and ready to go back into the office tomorrow! But I did get to have several nights of staying up late and sleeping in so that's always a plus for my night person brain.

As for The Rookie, it's good! Being cop-centric it's naturally a lot of copaganda, and a lot more "finding bad people doing bad things and chasing them down" and less of the "helpful" side of first responding we see with 911, but it does have a more hopeful bent than I was expecting, and quite a few moments of "they're not bad people just regular people who made a bad choice/had bad options". I was also prepared for Owen Strand levels of "main character screentime/storylines in what should be an ensemble show" syndrome with Nathan Fillion's character but it hasn't been too bad so far. Lots of female characters and so far I've enjoyed all of them. I'm bored with Tim's current LI because I'm already on the Lucy/Tim bandwagon, but I like the character and think she's interesting and have enjoyed her scenes (QUITE refreshing), and Nolan's LI storylines are also boring to me personally like Owen's were because I just find his love life to be the least interesting thing about him and prefer his screentime when it's looped in with the police stuff because it includes more of the main characters that way. That being said, I did like his LI's so far (almost done with season 2) and they were both involved enough in the things close to his job that they were able to be involved in main storylines going on. It's been enjoyable so far! It definitely hasn't struck the same chord as early 911 did since it's naturally a little darker in nature just due to the focus of the job (being called for crimes/solving crimes vs being called for rescue), and I haven't bonded to any of the characters as much as I did with the firefam, but I do really like all of the ensemble characters. Also it's been nice seeing threads being teased and storylines leading places and trauma being addressed right away instead of being forgotten about immediately and *maybe* cropping up later if we're lucky.

Speaking of all that mess, it's interesting that from what I can see, most of the buzz around 911 right now is about what is coming in the spring. Since the show has close out Hen's arc, and we know Buck's is dragging out for awhile and Madney's stuff has happened mostly off screen or been cut entirely, what are we even looking forward to for the finale? I said in the tags on another post that at least with s5 we were hoping for a Chim and/or Maddie cameo or at least phone conversation we got to see one side of (robbed), the BT breakup (ROBBED), and Eddie's breakdown that had been teased all season (partially robbed but at least the cliffhanger didn't come out of nowhere). But this season? Pretty much ANYTHING is going to feel like it came out of nowhere unless it's the start of the Buck breakdown because nothing else has been happening consistently enough to make sense. And even a Buck breakdown is a little out of the blue since he's been excited about the sperm donor thing since his talk with Hen and the firefam finding out was treated as a joke and there was zero follow-up in 6x08, and zero follow up on the "couch" thing OR Lev's death since those happened at the start of the season. Finding an issue with his sperm or issues with the couple COULD be something but given that it looks like the spring will have an opening disaster it's likely there won't be tons of follow-up until 6x12 and if we're lucky and get hurt Buck in the spring opening, then things *should* be about that and not the follow-up on the sperm thing anyway soooo 🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️

There's just like....NO direction for this season. Things are happening but having no impact, even when the potential for impact is RIGHT THERE, and instead of things being sprinkled into every episode it's like, ONE episode about a thing and then nothing for weeks. Hen's arc this season has been good, but with SEVEN main characters, you can't have only ONE of them having a clear direction their story is moving across NINE episodes. I guess we'll see tomorrow but on the bright side, as you said at least there's an actual fire AND we get the firefam in yellow wildfire turnouts with the added bonus of no Lone Star filter! Silver lining.

[greensaplinggrace]

im assuming you'll never finish that charthur fic? I've been waiting since the last chapter was posted and I've kind of lost hope. Hope this doesn't sound disrespectful I'm just wondering if it's possible you could summarize what you had planned for it, if you remember? I really like your writing. Have a good day

I don't find it disrespectful at all! I actually do plan on continuing the fic and have a full outline for it. I'm even thinking of rewriting it now that I'm a better writer. I only really write fanfiction for the fandoms I'm in, though, so I've sort of been waiting to rejoin the rdr2 fandom to finish it. which I will do eventually but who knows how long it will take.

I also plan on posting the new one after I've written all or at least most of it, to avoid leaving it unfinished

[azullumi]

“withering desires of a cruel man with broken confessions” ; aventurine

to you : 🧀 nonnie !! i hope you had a wonderful birthday and i’m sorry for taking a long time to finish this but hey, it’s done now (finally). belated happy birthday and i wish you all the best <33

premise — his belief that he doesn’t deserve the good things is rooted deeply underneath the dirt where he buries his corpse, and he doesn’t deserve you; this is an ode to clementia and he wishes that his song reaches you.

tags — w/ gender-neutral reader, fluff to angst, friends to friends that knows they like each other, orange as a metaphor for love, angry and forced love confessions, aven my self-sabotage and mixed signals king, 1.5k ; one-shot

note — made while listening to phoebe bridgers, faye webster, adrianne lenker, and ichiko aoba. this was supposed to be a short drabble about peeling oranges and sharing with them what happened

They say clementines are a symbol for mercy—gentle, soft, and sweet, like an echo of the sun. 

There’s the fresh smell of citrus in the air as he delicately pulls its skin to reveal its form, a warm burst of sunset trapped within its fragile walls, and his nails will be tainted by the color of its penance and he’ll forget what it feels like to only have hatred in his heart. Maybe that’s how forgiveness tastes; salvation will fill his blood as he sheds tears that carry his sins (they were never his).

“I don’t know how you can do that flawlessly.” You say, your voice drenched in wonder and amazement as you watch the movement of his fingers, adeptly peeling the fruit. The sections come apart neatly and perfectly in his hands.

He smiles, “It’s easy.”

“It’s not.” You insist, reminding him of the horror of the state the orange has become when you tried to share it with him. “Did you see the holes I tore through it? I was left with nothing but the mere coat because the juice sprayed in all directions.”

The sound of laughter forms in his throat and escapes, “It’s because it was small and the skin is hard. Come on.” He holds a small piece near your face and you part your lips open enough for him to feed you; a warm feeling resides in your cheeks as you chew. There’s a burst of sweetness, with hints of sourness that lingered in its nature in your mouth—it reminds you of the night when he held your form and gently guided you to the melody of the song. 

“Is it sweet?” He asks, his head tilted a little to the side as he bores his gaze at you. There are lingering touches, whispered honey-coated words, affectionate gestures, and eyes painted of different vivid hues and contrasting pristine tones that never seem to hold the light, only reflecting your form within. You hum, nodding your head as you answer, “You should teach me how to peel them, you know. I don’t want to be calling you everytime or having to rely on you too much.”

(Truthfully, and hopefully so, may you never learn so he’ll get to be this close to you always.)

He smiles, sunshine peeking through his expression, “I wouldn’t mind.” He wouldn’t mind if it were just a small matter or nothing at all, you can keep on calling for him, ask for his assistance or simply just his presence—he’ll come running to you. He whispers, “Use me as you wish,” and his words shatter as it falls to the ground. (See him as a tool that has never known its purpose. See him as worthless but mere dust that covers your window sills. See him as nothing but a fool who never understood the lines in his heart.)

You say, “You know you’re not just as little as that to me.”

“Then what am I to you?” The comfort of silence settles in the gaps of his fingers and he finds himself seeking, waiting, with bated breath. His gaze seems to still at your eyes before falling to your lips, lingering for a few moments before meeting your eyes once more, and your hands tremble; you know the answer, you know what to say, you know, you know, you know, you know—and, at once, there’s the warm feeling of his lips on yours as you pull him in, as he pulls you in.

It’s gentle, soft in all of its edges and cracks. He holds your face in his hands and you intertwine yours in his locks, and you pull at his hair, eliciting a hum from him. It’s a burst of warmth, the taste of something sweet still left in your tongue as he kisses you. It’s short yet it will be engraved and buried in the depths of your mind for eternity.

“I like you.” You whisper against his lips as you part, eyes heavy on each other yet his gaze wavers and his breath shudders.

“I…” Why else would he continuously seek your embrace? Why else would he prefer to be alone with you even if it’s just silence between you and him (your presence alone brings him comfort)? Why else would he take such time to understand your form and cradle your being as if you were born from glass? He didn’t have your hands carve the shape of his thoughts into the form of your being just so he wouldn’t capture the feeling of your touch on his skin and how he craves, yearns for it like a starved man—and yet, he’ll hold his head down in humiliation as he looks for the words on the ground. He’s worthless, useless, nothing like his ‘luck’ that seems to curse everyone around him, and you’re everything he’s not. “I’m sorry.”

His hands fall from your cheeks and he stands up, saying, “I’m sorry, I have to go.” 

The chair screeches beneath him; his thoughts remain silent yet deafening, your voice fading into white noise as you call for him. He has to leave—each of his footsteps are heavy, echoing back to him as if a semblance to contempt and mockery that trails his wake.

Fear and shame forms at the bottom of his lungs. What even is he afraid of? Is it the lack of experience? The fear of abandonment? But humans are not strangers to those thoughts, people are bound to leave and Aventurine wasn’t unfamiliar with that, so how could he be afraid of something that has become a friend to him? Maybe it’s when he’s torn apart from flesh to bones and they’ll see there’s nothing in him—he was born out of barren wastelands and dust, his form has been long since buried under the golden sands. Maybe it's when he’s shown everything to them and they seek for something that he doesn’t have; the disappointment that lies in their expression will forever haunt him. Was it fear or was it worry that nobody could ever love him for what he truly is? Behind the expensive clothes he wears, the shining and heavy jewelry on his wrist, the suffocating rings on his hand, maybe they prefer his skin tainted with letters instead of wounds that brands him as human.

“—Rine.” A hand grasps at his wrist, preventing him from leaving. He stills in his position, feet glued to the floor and his back turned against you. Your voice breaks, “Stay, please.”

He’s stuck, sutured to the ground, hesitation sewing his mouth shut. You urge him to turn around, your fingers tugging at him, so he could face you, so you could see him—he’s tattered, torn and conflicted over something you’ll never know. The unfriendly air of the cold night wraps around his figure, but your hand eases warmth and comfort in his weary bones.

“Why did you kiss me?” You seek for something in the gaps of his expression, looking for a falter in the lines of his features to know the thoughts that he hides beneath all the charades and facades.

“…It was a mistake.”

You answer, frustration slowly seeping into your tone, “You know damn well it’s not.” He knows completely well it’s not and it will never be. And you don’t cry nor plead, you beg with sore, trembling palms for an answer to soothe the disturbance of the waves that will come to swallow you, drowning you in the murky waters of your mind. “You don’t get to hold my hands and cradle me in yours and tell me it’s nothing. You don’t get to look at me in a way that is reminiscent of lovers and tell me it doesn’t mean anything. You don’t get to kiss me and say that it’s a mistake. You’re a cruel man, Aventurine, and you’re unfair for telling me that it was all nothing but a mistake when you haunt my dreams.”

“…I’m sorry.” He closes his eyes for a moment, darkness swallowing his vision yet his mind conjures an image of you in it, berating him. The broken pieces of your words are left scattered on the bottom of yours and his feet.

You ask, voice low, “Do you like me?”

“Why—“

“It’s a yes or no question, ‘Rine. Do you like me or do you not?”

“I love you.” His voice is raised and cracks start to form on the surface of his expression, “and it’s scaring me.” Forgive me. The clock continues to tick despite the world seemingly coming to a still at his words.

The air is suffocating and the silence sits on your shoulders before he says, whispering in a broken tone, “I’m leaving.”

And this time, you don’t stop him. His steps are rushed against the flooring, the sound of the door closing echoes throughout the corners of your mind. The walls of your home stand tall over you, his confession written and tearing through all over your wallpaper, screaming at you; you’re left crumbling on the floor. The sweet scent of citrus lingers in the air, the mess the two of you made still on the counter tops, and you wished you told him you love him too.

tagging @toorurs, the loveliest and sweetest of all. i hope you know that you're cherished and loved by me, and i'm so glad to have you and the sun that touches your skin must be too <33 always be reminded that you're beautiful and i appreciate everything that you do and say (you always make me laugh even when it's just the smallest and useless of things like wow you must have a special talent in making someone smile) !! thank you for always being there for me too and always cheering me up, and also making my day because everything for me nowadays is becoming unbearable and you're the only one that keeps me sane (fk exams and projects and research im going to cry)

© azullumi — do not plagiarize, copy, repost, nor translate any of my works.

[wandaslovey]

Hey, just wanted to say love all ur mommy Wanda content and can’t help but reread them all the time.

I was just wondering if u would wright something along the lines of reader injuring her leg some how, like a sprained ankle, and is having trouble walking on it but is to stubborn to rest up and not walk on it. Hence mommy Wanda having to take manners into her own hands, however u wish to interpret that.

Possibly with praise sprinkled in plz

If not it’s all good :) 

Her Stubborn Girl

a/n: hi nonnie!! thanks for the request! hopefully this (sorta) lengthy drabble is the sort of thing you were looking for :))

a/n: i wrote this in 45 minutes so please forgive all spelling/grammar errors thaaanks🫶🏻🫶🏻

•·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·•

you fumble with your keys, almost dropping them twice as you all but wrestle with them to stick it through the lock. you were tired physically and mentally. you had three in-person college courses every wednesday, and now being 4 weeks into the semester, you were seriously regretting your decision to be an “over-achiever.” your ankle hurt like a bitch. it was still healing from a sprain, but you hated walking around with those stupid crutches. you’d be damned if you drew more attention to yourself any more than your wrapped ankle already gave away. you finally enter your shared home with your girlfriend, wanda. you saw that her car was parked in the driveway, so she must have decided to work from home today. you huff, tossing your keys on the little table beside the door, carefully chucking your shoes off. you hear wanda’s feet padding against the hard wood floors to the kitchen. you mentally curse yourself as you know she’s going to immediately notice that you walked to your classes today with no crutches. you had hoped you’d have time to go and grab them from where you left them last but, no such luck.

“hi sweetheart, welcome h—“ wanda pauses as she rounds the corner, taking in your appearance and the lack of what should be the accompanying crutches. you offer her a weak smile and turn to get a water from the fridge, not in the mood for her to berate you for your carelessness.

“Y/N! did you seriously go to your classes today without your crutches??” she walks up to you from behind, her arm swiftly wrapping around your back to pull you carefully to the table. you sigh, running your fingers through your hair. you knew how sensitive she was when it came to your health and well-being. “yes. my ankle is almost healed,” you say to placate her, though you know putting so much weight on it today surely didn’t do you any favors. you could feel a throbbing sensation shooting up your leg, even though you were now sitting down. wanda takes the seat next to you, gently lifting your hurt ankle and settling it in her lap. “almost healed my ass…oh honey, look at it! it’s all swollen!” her fingers gently caress the area over her careful wrapping job. “you— stay right here.” she says, her tone chiding. she gently sets your leg to rest on the chair as she gets up to retrieve an ice pack.

she comes and sits back down, resettling your foot in her lap and gently placing the ice pack around your now extra swollen ankle. you suddenly feel a little bit guilty, knowing that you hurting yourself hurts her just as much—maybe even more sometimes. you didn’t mean to upset her. your shoulders slump forward, an apologetic look on your face as she looks at you with nothing but sternness. “i don’t take kindly to you not taking care of yourself Y/N. you know that.” your posture falls, the guilt weighing even heavier on yourself as her words affirm your suspicion. “i’m sorry, mommy.” you use her honorific, hoping it would help in smoothing her over.

your apology seems to fly in one ear and out the other as the firm expression remains plastered on her face. “you’re not going to put any more weight on this ankle of yours for the rest of the day. do you hear me?” you look down. avoiding her gaze as you nod your agreement. she grasps onto your chin with her thumb and first finger, lifting your head back up to look at her. “words. i need to hear you say it.” her grip on your chin is firm and you find that your previous defiant attitude when you first came home had all but vanished into thin air. “i won’t put any more weight on my ankle for the rest of the day,” you say quietly, your lip slightly pouty and your eyes wide, full of sincere apology. “good girl,” she nods, releasing her hold on your chin. she takes pity on you, knowing that she had scolded you enough already.

you sit in comfortable silence for several moments, her still holding the ice pack to your ankle. “how about we watch a movie together before i finish up my work for the day? then i can make us some dinner and you can tell me all you learned in your classes today.” you smile, quickly agreeing with her suggestion.

you move to stand, but she grips onto your foot to keep it there, giving you a warning look. “sorry..” you quickly readjust into your seat, remembering your recent promise to not walk on your bad ankle the rest of the day. she stands up, settling your leg back over the chair. “where did you leave your crutches?” she asks, looking around the room for them. you whine, not wanting to see or use those stupid things ever again. “don’t make me use those. i hate those things. they just make it more difficult to move around and they hurt my armpits..” you complain, your voice sounding petulant like a stubborn child.

she rolls her eyes at your tone, a small affectionate smile tugging at her lips before she suddenly reaches down and pulls you up into her arms. you make a small noise of surprise, but she makes no moves to put you down, instead carrying you to the couch that’s in front of the tv. she settles you onto the cushions, lifting both your legs so your feet were resting in her lap.

she lets you choose the movie and you put one on that you’ve both seen many times together. throughout the movie she’ll glance over at you, smiling kindly whenever your eyes meet hers. somewhere towards the end of the movie, her hands begin massaging your uninjured foot but you find the sensations felt more tickle-y than anything else. you squirm slightly in your seat, your foot twitching in her gently grasp. her lips curve into a knowing smile as she takes notice of your fidgeting.

“does that tickle, detka?” as she asks, she lightly scratches her fingernails over the arch of your foot. you press your lips together, unwilling to give her the reaction she was looking for.

“no,” you say stubbornly, barely glancing in her direction as you opt to keep staring at the screen ahead.

“oh, so you don’t mind if i do this then?” her fingers then move up your foot, tickling the sensitive little spaces in between your toes. you try to jerk and pull your foot back but she was quicker than you—using her other hand to firmly hold your ankle in place. a low whine and a stream of reluctant giggles bubble past your lips as her fingers scratch at your toes. “what’re you laughing at, huh? i thought you said this didn’t tickle…” she teases, keeping up her playful assault on your poor foot for a few more moments before stopping.

she leans closer to you, kissing you sweetly as she gives your foot a soft squeeze. she looks at you, love and adoration evident in her gaze. you melt under her affectionate look, feeling that warm fuzziness seep into your skin and brain.

“Y/N, i don’t ever want to see you without those crutches until the doctor gives you the all clear. if i do see that, you won’t like what i’ll have in store for you.” she turns more stern again for a moment, making sure she gets her point across. you decide to tease her a bit, her little tickle attack making you feel a little giddy still.

“like what? you’ll spank me?” you smirk slightly, knowing that that particular punishment isn’t normally so bad.

“oh no.. no, no. i know you enjoy your spankings far too much, my darling. i was thinking more along the lines of writing me 500 lines stating ‘i will take care of myself and obey my mommy.’”

she mimics your expression, also smirking as she knows you and how much you hate writing lines. you groan and her smirk stretches into a victorious smile.

“how about i throw in a sweetener? if you be the good little girl i know you can be, i’ll let you choose your reward once the doctor clears you.” her offer instantly makes you perk up, your eyes lighting up as several ideas instantly pop into your head.

“really??” you ask excitedly, almost bouncing in your place on the couch. she chuckles, nodding her head. “really, really.”

[sparkledfirecracker]

Guilty Pleasure

Request: Andy fucking his sister in law while Laurie is out of town for a week.

Word count: 5262

Warnings: 18+ only, explicit sexual content, explicit language, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), cheating but not really, spanking, fingering, penetrative sex, sibling rivalry, semi-bullying by a sibling, mention of re-marrying, porn without a real plot. If I missed any, let me know.

A/N: This contains cheating, do not read or interact if you're sensitive to familial betrayal. Jacob does not exist in this story. Anything you read is fictional and not based on actual events. This is not beta’d. Happy 2023, nonnie! May it be a great filthy and panty-wetting season. Tumblr ate your ask and I’ve tried to post this 3 times now. Hopefully this meets your expectations and thank you for dropping off the request (I’m sorry it took me so long) 😘. Enjoy!

I do not give permission to repost, publish or use any of my stories, that counts for media entertainment too. Reblogging, liking, commenting and ghost reading on the other hand is all allowed.

By clicking ‘keep reading’ or ‘read more’ you agree to be 18 or older.

Your relationship with your sister had never been loving, it always contained rivalry. Having wanted to curse your father for remarrying. Laurie was always being picked as the favourite in your eyes.

That is why it had surprised you the minute she had asked you to check in on her husband. Stating she was going to be out of town for the week. As a good sister you had agreed to her request, it also came in handy that you enjoyed spending time with Andy. He was generally nice and on top of that, good company.

Since you both worked together at the district attorney’s office, it immediately eased the awkwardness. With a slip of the tongue, you had offended Andy during lunch. Stating that you never had seen ‘Ferris Bueller’s Day Off’. Andy practically had demanded you to come over for dinner and watch the film together.

As the day came to an end. You had declined his offer to give you a ride as you still had some errands to run for Neil. Andy had huffed at the mention of his name. Muttering that Neil hadn’t been worth all the extra hours so that he could get praise for the work you had done.

It had been almost two hours later than initially planned. “Andy, I’m home.” You yelled excitedly through the house as you stepped through the front door.

His muscular frame appeared in the opened-up arch of the kitchen. With a wide smirk, he placed his hands on his hips and scanned you from head to toe. A comforting warmth wrapped around you like a blanket preventing the cold from creeping in.

You weren’t prepared for the intrusive thoughts to flood back the way they did. Laurie had won the bet between you both all those years ago. It wasn’t so much a bet, it was more a way to give you stick for not going after what you desired. Your heart shattered the moment she told you she started to develop feelings for Andy.

Seeing Andy like this made all the old feelings resurface. The doting husband waiting for his partner to come home. A soft yearning for his touch or those lingering eye contact moments. Mentally rolling your eyes when you looked straight at his wedding ring. Wanting to curse yourself for having allowed their relationship to go on this way.

Their marriage was based on a lie. Laurie didn’t love him the way you did, all this yearning had stopped the moment they said “I do”. Only to find out now that those feelings never had been gone. Just stuffed and locked in an imaginary filing cabinet.

Insufferable reminders of what could’ve been clouding your head. That’s where Laurie thrived, your discomfort. And it had become her running joke, teasing you for fawning over the man that she fucked at night.

“I hope you like pizza,” Andy let out a heavy sigh, “I’ve ruined the pasta.” He confessed, supporting an embarrassed look. Leaning back against the counter of the kitchen island. His hands gripping the edge so tightly it almost seemed like it drained the blood.

Was he nervous? He couldn’t be, he had never been nervous when you were around in the past. Though the tension between you both could be cut by a knife.

“I brought beer.” You smiled, holding up the six-pack in your hand breaking the slightly awkward silence.

“You didn’t have to.”

“It’s not polite to come empty-handed.”

“You’re family, you’re not obliged to bring anything.” He gave you a smile grabbing the six-pack from your hands. Making his way towards the fridge, opening the door, and looking back at you. “Want one?”

“I prefer a cold one.”

He nodded, grabbing two bottles from a shelf while sliding your six-pack into one of the empty spots. He cracked open both bottles, handing you one.

A polite conversation followed as you settled yourselves in the living room. With the amount of pizza ordered, you suggested doing a taste test. Andy admitted that he didn’t know what you would like and had ordered multiple choices while he handed you a notepad and pen to scribble down your ratings of each slice.

He had started playing Ferris Bueller’s Day Off and you were so invested in the film. Almost blocking out where you were, losing track of your surroundings as the television sucked you into the story at least so you had hoped.

Your your mind wandered to other things. What would life look like if you and Andy had started dating? What if Laurie never had acted upon her impulses? He kept it neat and groomed, the bristles must be so soft. His beard would surely feel great on your skin. Those hands were large and probably very skilled. The way he gripped his beer bottle with precision and delicacy. The motion made you swallow hard, shaking your head slightly to gain back focus.

The thought of those fingers deeply buried inside you made you clench. How the curl of gesture would send you over the edge with much skill. His perfect lips wrapped around your clit, licking and sucking your core. Pleasing you in any and every way no man had ever done before.

You blamed it on the way he walked around the office. He truly must be very well hung. The way his bulge had once been shown and on full display. Remembering the way he had looked back at you through narrowed eyes. As if to tell you that you had been the reason his pants got awfully tight.

With a choked breath, your chest warmed at the sound of his laughter. Clamping a hand over your mouth when you let out a squeak from the slight shock. His eyes burned holes into your skin as you felt him watch. Though it was hard not to do the same every time he laughed at a funny part, either taking a sip of the beer in his hand or taking a bite from his pizza.

“You know you can sit on the couch, right?” The question sounded more like a demand, but you tried to avoid his gaze at all costs.

“I know, but I like sitting on the floor.” It was a swift reply, gulping your beer. Nervous feelings grew in the pit of your stomach.

“When your ass gets all stiff and tingling, you know where you can get comfortable.”

You almost choked on the gulp of beer you had just taken. Coughing and laughing as you tried to breathe. Andy slid over, softly patting and rubbing your back.

“Don’t say things like that Andy, I could’ve killed myself.”

“As long as I’m here, you’re free from harm’s reach.”

“How noble, my knight in shining armour.”

“Is that how you’ve been seeing me for all those years?”

His gloating face said it all. He knew about your crush on him. How? Did Laurie tell him? Was it all those stolen glances in the office or the ones here on his couch in his own home? Maybe even all the tortuous looks and hurrying out of the room whenever he was near in your college days?

You felt your face heat up, trying to hide your embarrassed expression. Blood pumped through your veins like it was about to blow your eardrums.

“I’ve known for years.” Andy confessed, “I must say I’m amazed and angered at the same time. You have denied yourself to try and win me for you. Were you too shy to ask me out for that sorority party?”

You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath. There was no turning back. Lying to him or yourself wasn’t going to help either of you.

“Yes.”

“I need a little more words than that, sweetheart.” He inched his way closer to you.

“Yes, I was shy.” The lump in your throat felt uncomfortable.

“Why did you let Laurie treat you the way she did? Why did you let her win?”

“I don’t know. I should go home.” You rushed, trying to get up and run away from this mess that was unfolding. Instead, you were slammed back down, air left your lungs as you collided with Andy’s thighs. One hand kept you pinned down on his lap. The other massaging and squeezing your ass.

“It’s always been you that I truly wanted,” a warmth flooded your chest again. “Imagine my disappointment when you didn’t object during our wedding. Making me feel miserable and stuck in this marriage for years.”

Andy’s hand rubbed the globe of your ass, you gasped when his hand smacked your ass. Your muscles contracted under the impact but melted into the obtained position over his lap. The realization of him punishing you for all your past mistakes went straight to your core. Biting down on your lip to stifle the moan from breaking free.

“I’m sorry, Andy.”

“Are you really, sweetheart?” Andy asked, leaving another imprint on your ass.

“Yes.” A desperate cry for him

“How about you being exceptionally quiet and showing me how well you can take your punishment.” The question was laced with a promise. A firm one at that. “I’d like to hear how sorry you really are.”

You simply nodded bracing for impact, but it faded to surprise when he lifted your skirt. Andy hummed with satisfaction as your lace panties and garter set became exposed.

With each collision of Andy’s hand, your ass became more and more sore. Every harsh slap felt more raw than the previous one. Making you bite your lower lip, trying to keep the sounds muffled and still.

“Are you going to be good for me?”

“Yes.” You replied,

“I think you can do much better than that.”

Another smack burned on your skin. You nodded your head, crying out an “I’m sorry, Andy.”

You were surprised when Andy helped you sit back on the couch. Hissing at the burn of your ass on the fabric. Your mascara had stained your cheeks from the few tears that had slipped from the arousing pain.

His fingers softly brushed your cheek. Gathering the melted makeup or maybe even smearing it further. There was no telling in his movement.

“You look beautiful.” The whisper was barely audible and spoken with true admiration. Without thought, you pressed your lips against his. Feeling him smile into this moment. Probably because it had been the first time since you took charge of what felt right.

“Tell me you want this.” Andy breathed against your lips, as the kiss broke. Your eyes flickered open, meeting his gaze. Worry and hope both dancing in the blue hue of his eyes.

“More than anything.” It wasn’t a lie, but it would be wrong to act upon these feelings. “We can’t.”

“Laurie won’t mind. She doesn’t love me the way you love me.”

“But-”

His lips interrupted the speech you were about to recite. Guilt clearly wasn’t on Andy’s mind. The way his tongue explored every part of your mouth like he was on a scavenger hunt. Stroking, teasing, pleasing and obscenely filthy. He made you hungry for more.

Not even your wildest dreams could’ve prepared you for the searing passion. His large hands cupped your face guiding you to lie down. The moment he had you underneath him, his hands ripped your silk shirt with haste. Neither of you cared enough for the pearl buttons that flew across the room.

With a darkened hunger he glanced back at you. Toying your nipples through the laced fabric of your bra between his fingers. You arched off the couch as he pebbled and tugged on your breasts. Swiftly pulling the delicate lace down, taking one of your boobs into his mouth. You whined at the erotic swirl of his tongue, nothing but lustful precision.

His hands found the zipper on your skirt. Tugging the item off, discarding it on the floor. Running his hands over your garter belt. The look on Andy’s face said it all, he hadn’t seen anything like it in a long time. Making you his shiny new toy, ready to be devoured and owned.

You leaned up, cupping his face and pulling him into a desperate kiss. Feeling his hand smoothly moving over your panties. Your body had now become his playground, making you desperate for him. With a pout he broke of your kiss, searching for your approval as he pulled aside the material of your panties. A softened smile was enough for him to slide his fingers through your heat, coating them in your juices.

Andy brought his finger to his mouth, groaning loudly as he licked them off. You tried to look for that one moment where you would both find a reason to break this off. Yet all you found was a deepened craving to need one another.

You watched Andy lean down. Kissing his way around your thighs. The soft hair of his beard tickling and teasing your skin. Gasping at the tender lick from the tip of his tongue against your clit followed by a gentle kiss. Another lick gathered more of your soaked core. Sucking on the pulsating nub. His tongue explored every crease and crevice of your cunt.

The throbbing ache builded between your legs while Andy gently licked through your folds. Circling the tip of his tongue over your clit, making sure to tease you enough until you let out a soft whine. With every sound you made from his touch, he sucked down and placed a kiss.

He spread your legs wide, needing more space than you currently allowed him. For a moment shame coursed your body, closing your legs as far as he allowed you to. You covered your face with your arms as if to shield your emotions from him. Andy’s hands squeeze your thighs harshly, making you inhale sharply.

“Don’t you ever dare hide from me.” He warned, peeling your arms off your face. A fiery kiss pressed against your lips. Your moan seemed enough for Andy to start more exploration. Leaving your lips, pecking your jaw. Nibbling your ear, tracing your neck. Sucking, licking and teasing in order to make you focus on the sinful pleasure.

The suck of his mouth on your breasts made you arch further into him. The way he played your body like a fiddle. Making you sing a different tune. Allowing you to float on cloud nine when he had barely done anything yet.

The softness of his hands stroked your legs. Comforting you in this odd situation. Making sure to let you know it was okay to give in to him and enjoy this just as much as he did. Your panties were hooked around his fingers. Letting them be pulled down and thrown into the room.

The grip of his hands was a little rougher when he pulled your legs apart again. Coming face to face with your soaked cunt. You tried to read his face, a certain glow of admiration spreading across his features.

“Beautiful.” He praised. The whisper of his voice penetrated your mind. He clearly longed for you just as much as you longed for him.

His large palms held your ass, while the tips of his thumbs explored the outer edges of your pussy. For a moment you stopped breathing at his gentle touch. Juvenile play as if he was exploring what stroke would give him a reaction.

You watched Andy lean forward, feeling his tongue toy with your clit. Flat swipes, gentle circles and a rhythmic change between a slow and faster pace was enough to make you cry out for him. Your hands found the strands of his fluffed-up hair. Making sure he knew you appreciated his delicate touch.

His tongue swiped back and forth through your lips. Sucking his lips around your clit as he reached the top. Lewd noises filled the air as he drank up your juices.

His possession became clear when you tried to shift into another position. His large hands held you in place. Making sure you felt every bristle of his beard and movement of his mouth. His tongue sank deeper and with more pressure like a deprived man who had been kept from his dirty little secret.

You tugged his hair at the eliciting feeling building in the pit of your stomach. His beard rubbed your sensitive cunt as his tongue worked its magic. The feeling too overwhelming making your hands try to stop him. Andy hadn’t waited long to stop his actions. He furrowed his brows in annoyance.

“When I’m down here, you don’t get to interrupt me. Understood?”

“Yes-yes.” You stammered out under his gaze.

With a single nod, you felt his tongue deep between the lips of your pussy again. Delicate kitten licks toying with you and with each moan it spurred him on to fasten his actions. Burying his face for a deeper taste of you.

With a harsh suck, he popped your clit from his mouth. You felt him smiling against your pussy. Happy to be between your legs. Allowing you to play and tug his hair as long as you didn’t interrupt his meal.

His tongue flicked your pulsing clit while his thumb rubs up and down your hole. Gathering all of the dripping nectar with his mouth. Feeling the pressure of his other finger digging into your ass. Your hips bucked for a second and he pushed his thumb in.

Sobbing at the assault on your cunt only allowed for his tongue to rapidly flick and swirl your clit. The thrust of his thumb didn’t feel big enough. Only making you whine and whimper for more of his touch.

Another finger joins as you feel two fingers sliding up and down your pussy. “Yes!” You exclaimed at the relief of the soft stretch. Whining when he slid them back out.

Andy’s explored every inch of your soaked core. One of his fingers teased your entrance, making your body writhe under his touch desperately. Feeling two of his fingers slide inside felt like a gift. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head when he scissors them inside. Pulling them in and out to draw more of your juice out.

No man had ever given your cunt this type of attention. Not with this much precision. He hummed at the taste of everything you were giving him. Your moans increased as he made you feel so good.

“Oh fuck.” Your head craned backwards as you pulled his face closer to your cunt. Not wanting him to leave.

With a twist of his wrist, he curled his fingers against your sweet spot. Everything was happening so fast, you couldn’y even think about wrong or right anymore. His hand was covered in your sweet nectar, lapping it up with his hungered mouth. Drawing everything out that you’re giving him.

Your orgasm builded quickly, nothing but gasps, moans and whimpers leaving your body. Bucking your hips against his face was punished with his strong arm holding you down. Clearly sending you a sign that he would do all the work.

The burn of his beard had subdued due to the ecstatic feeling that rose. The squelched noises filled the air as your cunt drenched his fingers.

“Andy, please.” You screamed at the erratic pumps. Your legs clamped around his head. The spasms of your body erupted from his assault. “Please, stop, Andy.”

Shuddering around his fingers made him still his fingers and pull back from your pussy. His bewildered gaze met yours. He was a man on a mission. The grip on the couch eased up, as he let you have a moment to catch your breath.

Drawing his fingers from your core, he plunged them back in. Clearly sending you a sign that he would be the one making all the decisions tonight. Your trembling body assaulted another time as his mouth worked your core. Soft kisses and strokes helped you through your high. Working with you to come back down from the heavenly state he had put you in.

Andy got up without a warning. Holding out his hand for you to grab. Your cunt still pulsating from the mindblowing orgasm, making it hard to stand up. Rolling your eyes at this uncharming moment as he guided you up the stairs.

As he opened the bedroom door he turned back at you. Suddenly everything was starting to become too real as you stood in front of him vulnerable and naked. Guilt clouding your mind once again. Andy grabbed your waist, pulling you closer and swiftly turning your bodies, making you walk backwards. His lips teasing yours with soft pecks.

“You’re overdressed, Barber.”

He threw his head back laughing at your words. Releasing you from his grasp, undressing quickly. You glanced down your body, noting you still were in your own lingerie. Unclipping your bra, letting it fall to the floor.

Your fingers hooked under the garter belt around your waist. Andy stopped your hands from acting any further as you tried to slide it off. He raised an eyebrow, giving you a warning, watching him slide down his boxers. Gulping when his cock springs free as he pulls his boxers down.

Andy was bigger than any other man you had in the past. One thing was clear, Andy Barber wanted you more than anything. He was going to be yours for a night. Fuck Laurie and her stupid comments that still had haunted you.

You would devour him one time and then cut all ties. A way of getting him out of your system. Your hands wandered over your ass up your hips and waist. Gliding over your breasts, tweaking the nipples between your fingers.

“You’re so gorgeous, sweetheart.” Andy praised, stepping towards you. His hand settled at the base of your neck while the other cupped your cheek. His lips were hungry, searching for an entry. A filthy swipe of his tongue against your lips. Caressing your palate and dancing with your tongue. He guided you back towards the bed until you could take no more steps.

His cock pushed against your stomach, making the excitement shoot through your veins. Andy ground into you, making you clench around nothing. Humming at the strokes of his tongue, yelping when he suddenly pushed you down on the bed.

Taking advantage of your surprise he flipped you over. Climbing behind you with his knees settling on either side of your body. His hands resting beside your head, pressing loving kisses on your cheek, down your shoulder while tracing wet and sloppy marks down your spine. With every move, he slowly sat back up.

His hands caressed your ass, admiring the view underneath him. Slightly tilting your hips so your ass would spread a little, granting him more access to your pussy.

Andy ran his cock through your soaked core. Coating himself while working your excitement up again. He tapped your pussy with his length before sinking in his tip in to tease you. You gripped the sheets letting out a muffled moan.

“Please, Andy, I need more.”

“So desperate for my cock.”

“Please, fuck me.” You begged, feeling him pull out of you.

Andy repositioned himself, spreading his knees wide, making sure he all leverage over your body. A darkened smile held his face. With a single deep thrust, he nearly splitted you in half. The allowance to get used to his size was short lived when he bottomed out.

“So tight for me, sweetheart.” Andy husked, taking in every expression you displayed as you tilted your head to look back at him. He was looking for discomfort, but all you returned was a smile when he pushed back inside your walls.

His hips rocked in and out, stretching your cunt and easing off the burn. He pulled out, slowly dipping in and out of your dripping cunt. Your hands reached back to spread your cheeks for him while he slowly kept sinking in further and further.

Your hips kept lifting as he kept plunging in and out of your hole. He grabbed your hands, stopping the spread of your ass, guiding them upward above your head. With a rough grasp on your hips he impaled you deeply. Driving his cock inside your wet walls eagerly.

Soft whines escaped when he pounded you from behind. Working up your orgasm as he slided into you over and over again. Clenching around him when he angled his cock just right against your sweet spot.

He drew your body close to his when he rolled you both sideways. The pumps of his cock added more and more pleasure in this newfound position. Your foot rested on his thigh. Feeling his lips marking your neck. His large hand kneading your breasts, pinching your nipples and making you sob at the pleasure swirling in your veins.

You squeezed around him, suddenly releasing more frantic ruts from him. The muscles of your body tensed at the spearing motion. Andy’s hand circled your waistline finding your swollen clit. His flat fingers rotated your overworked cunt. Making you squeeze him even harder as you couldn’t withhold from cumming. You trembled in his hold as he kept you close.

He slid out and laid back, his cock still throbbing as you turn your body towards him. You licked your lips at the glistened length.

“I want to admire your view. Ride me, sweetheart.” Andy ordered

It was a different request than what you initially had in mind, but it wasn’t one you were going to deny him if it meant more pleasure for you both. Soaking up every inch of love Andy was willing to give you before you had to part ways.

Throwing your leg over, he holds his cock for you to sink down on. Your mouth fell open at the renewed positioned feel of his width. Halfway there he let you take control. Sliding his own hands up your body playing with your nipples and kneading the squishy flesh of your breasts.

“So good.” You gasped, bouncing gently up and down his cock. Watching Andy’s teeth sink into his bottom lip. Upon impulse you respond by leaning forward as you keep riding him. Your lips meeting, kissing him fiercely.

With your hips circling his cock his hands were free to roam and caress your body. His hands stroked the small of your back down to your ass, helping you push down further on his cock. Pulling you back into him when you lift a little too high. Meeting the slow rocks of your hips while your mouths desperately fuck one another on their own rhythm.

His arms circled your waist, holding you down, fucking up into your drenched cunt. Breathlessly you break off the searing kiss as he fucks you deeply. His eyes watch you closely, admiring your beauty as you work up to another orgasm.

Andy flipped your bodies, making your legs fell open. He sank back in deeply, resting his arms beside you. Your needy body right where he wanted it. You’re vulnerable while he was in total control. He slowly rolled his hips into you. The friction was deep and loving. Your legs circled his waist, holding him within close proximity.

His ruts deepen with every pound, making it harder for you to breathe. Every inhale was met with a cry of pleasure. Your sobs only made him pump you harder. Fucking you harder into the mattress. You were about to reach another high when he swiftly pulls out and pumps himself on your stomach. His white ropes painted your flesh.

“I want to pump you full of me.”

“Then fuck me, Andy.”

A consensual agreement, not one of you had thought of a condom. Too busy drinking up one another. Without another word, he slid back inside your walls. Opening one leg while resting the sole of your foot against his shoulder. Slowly you fell apart as your muscles tensed up again.

A rough pounding as he fucks you deeply. Taking him to the hilt, creaming his cock with your arousal. His hand took a hold of your ankle and he pressed his lips against the inside. You watch him lean his head back, feeling his cock twitch inside you.

Andy chased his own high with a guttural growl. The orgasm rippled through you, trembling underneath him. Your body screamed for him, feeling his hot cum filling you, squeezing him dry, needing every last drop as if he was your antidote to the venemous bite.

Freshly fucked dumb and pleasured. You were taken by surprise when Andy dove back down between your legs.

“You’re going to give me one more, sweetheart,” Andy stated, clearly not having gotten enough of your sweet taste.

The swipe of his tongue feels glorious, making you sob at the feeling. He hovered back over your body, kissing your lips and letting your taste your mixed pleasure.

His beard scraped your folds, while his greedy fingers pump your filled cunt. Andy drank from your pussy like it was his last drink. The swirl of his tongue circled your clit. The perfect suction on the pulsating nub. Dragging his flat tongue over your soaked hole. The sweet nectar with his cum dripping generously.

Your hands entwine themselves in his crazed hair as he vigorously pumps you with his digits. The sweet moans filled the room, as you felt the perspiration covering your body from being overstimulated.

Andy worked your pussy like a professional. His mouth not leaving your clit while his fingers did all the pounding. Curling and twisting them inside you. Your body started to spasm against his tongue when he penetrated your hole.

Drenched for just Andy as he licked you clean. Exhausting your body to the limit. Squeezing every ounce of liquid from it, like it was his mission.

Your throbbing core had pushed out all of his cum by now. The thought of him cleaning you out from his own cum made you even more aroused. Your muscles tensed up, making the ache of another orgasm even more pleasurable.

“Please andy, don’t stop.” You whined, feeling his thick tongue licking your clit.

Andy continued until your body stopped writhing. Fully saturated when your final orgasm had taken over. He pecked your cunt with his lips. Admiring it in its whole, while watching it pulsate around nothing. The ache was still there, but it was worth it.

“You did so well for me, sweetheart.” Andy smiled, leaning upwards. His body was on top of yours, pressing his lips against yours, stroking your hair as you willingly circled your legs around his waist. Locking him into your grasp with your ankles linked.

An intimate and vulnerable moment of just you and Andy. A moment that should’ve happened years ago. But now, it was too late. The damage was already done. Guilt overtaking your body.

“She’s seeing someone else.” Andy whispered softly as if he could sense your thoughts. Your eyes grew at the spoken words. How did he know that? “I’ve known for a while. She wasn’t ready to tell the family yet.”

The heavy weight on your shoulders immediately lifted your mood. His arms circling around your waist, holding your body tightly against his.

“Why didn’t you start with that news earlier?” With a balled fist you hit his arm.

He laughed and without answering he kissed you passionately like he had waited his entire life to do so.

[to-thelakes]

ok but i need a sequel to 'banged up'- pleaseeeee, kneeling, begging for more like 'banged up'

nonnie, ask and you shall receive <3

banged up (2)

pairing; frank castle x fem!reader

summary; frank continues to take care of your wounds while you worry for matt's safety until he decides makes an appearance.

warnings; fluff, hurt/comfort, reader is very injured but also very stubborn, soft frank, not proof-read, description/discussion of wounds and frank stitching the reader up, matt being (also) very soft, slightly suggestive towards the end, reader is catching feelings

notes; i think this is gonna need a 3rd part but i felt like this bit ended at the right time, i dunno what i was going to add to this part so i'm just gonna write another part at a later date (where maybe... frank and reader kiss) and then hopefully this fic idea will stop plaguing me, whoever sent in this ask in, i love you but i also hate you bc i have been plagued by thoughts of these two, anywayyy, enjoy <3

masterlist

part one

It was quiet as you lay in bed. Frank was still in the kitchen. You could hear him putting dishes away as you stared at your bedroom ceiling. The painkillers had worked wonders and lying still didn’t seem to hurt as much anymore. But your face was throbbing in pain. It was red and inflamed to the touch but Frank had promised to bring an ice pack when he was done with the washing up.

You were glad he was still here but you didn’t know where Matt was and that terrified you even more. He should have been here by now. Frank had said that he was going to come over when he was done with patrol. It had been hours. Frank had cooked. Patrol should have been finished and yet the familiar tap of Matt’s gloved hands against the window hadn’t come.

“Stop bitin’ your lip,” Frank scolded, startling your eyes back open. You slowly turned your head to look at him, the ache in your spine gave you a splitting headache. He had the ice pack in his hand as he walked over to the bed, “What you worryin’ about?” He asked. You slowly and gently began to push yourself to sit up. It made every fibre of your being ache but you ignored it, leaning back against the pillow.

Frank perched on the edge of your bed and moved the ice pack in his hand to rest against your cheek. It was red and bruised, probably a little bit swollen but he hadn’t noticed until you’d been chewing dinner. The pain had only got worse so he knew you needed to rest more.

“Why isn’t Matt back? You said he’d be back after patrol,” You responded. Every word made your jaw ache so you tried your best to speak quickly, get it all over with. Frank adjusted the ice pack on your cheek again before he held it there.

“Red can take care of himself. Don’t worry about him, yeah?” Frank said. You couldn’t help the scoff that fell from your lips but the second it did, you cried out. Frank was quick to cup the other side of your face, searching your eyes to make sure that you were okay. You sighed and forced your eyes back open to meet his.

“I’m fine,” You mumbled. He nodded and let his hand drop before he glanced at the bedside table. Maybe some more painkillers would do you some good.

“Can ya hold this for me, sweetheart?” He asked. You nodded and slowly lifted your hand to hold it in place. It made your body ache but you just closed your eyes and tried to forget what was happening. Matt was the one that had gotten you into this mess and he didn’t even have the decency to check up on you. It would have pissed you off if you weren’t so worried about him, “I’m gonna give you some more painkiller, open up,” He urged. You opened your mouth and Frank poured some of the liquid on the spoon before putting it in your mouth. You took it and swallowed it down.

“Aren’t I gonna overdose?” You asked, eyes still closed. You could feel the liquid slipping down your throat, every single movement and feeling in your body was amplified by ten. It was painful but the painkillers hopefully would provide some relief.

“Nah, you’ll be fine,” He said. You looked at him through hooded lids, exhaustion creeping up on you as you held the icepack in place. It was starting to warm up against your skin so you carefully flipped it over while Frank poured another spoon, “Open up,” he said. You grumbled but complied and took the spoonful. Then he capped the bottle and placed it - and the spoon - back on the side. You rested your head back against the headboard as Frank took the ice pack back from your grip. It meant that you could rest again.

“How am I gonna explain this to anyone at work?” You whined as your arms fell to your sides dramatically. Frank sighed and he gently nudged your thigh so that your eyes reopened. He had a sympathetic look on your face.

“Told you, you’re staying here,” He said. You narrowed your eyes but knew it was better not to argue. Your face hurt too much to argue and you closed your eyes again, “Wanna lie down?” He asked. You nodded and he placed the icepack on the side, “Come on, I’ll help.” With the two of you working together, Frank got you under the covers. Your face rested against the pillow and he tucked the icepack underneath. It was soothing against your red hot skin. He then slipped from the edge of the bed.

“Where are you going?” You croaked out as you looked up at him.

“Gonna go get Red,” He said. You pouted and he rolled his eyes, “Try and get some rest while I’m gone, yeah?” You grumbled but didn’t argue with him as your eyes fell closed again. Maybe it was better if you got some sleep. Lord knows that you needed it after the beating your body had taken.

-

The sun was trickling through your curtains when your eyes blinked back open. The pain was worse than it had been the previous night and you felt groggy. You felt sick. You wanted to throw your guts up but also didn’t want to move an inch. Your entire body hurt and you couldn’t help the soft whimper that escaped your lips.

There was an abrupt silence that permeated through the apartment. You hadn’t even realised that people were talking until they stopped. You rolled over, crying out as you curled up into yourself. Your body did it on reflex as if this pain was caused by your period. Curling up seemed to just make it worse.

“Hey, hey, sweetheart, what are you doin’?” Frank’s voice cut through the pain as the bed sunk underneath his weight. He gently nudged the covers back, urging you to lie on your back and you did - reluctantly. Every movement hurt and he checked your face over, concern etched across his features, “Can I check your stomach?” He asked. You nodded your head, not caring what he did as long as it relieved the pain that was running through your system. You felt so sick and every movement hurt. He pulled the covers back and your shirt was covered in a thick patch of blood, “Fuck,” He snapped. You blinked up at him blearily.

“What’s wrong?” You asked. The pain was too all-consuming for you to pinpoint where it came from so you didn’t realise that you had popped your stitches in your sleep.

“Red!” Frank called to the other room. His booming voice made you wince but he was quick to turn his attention back to you and cup your face, “It’s gonna be okay. Just stay calm and stay still, yeah?” You stared at him, confused and your brain was too addled with pain to understand but you didn’t move. You listened to him, “I swear to God, altar boy. If you don’t get here now,” Frank snapped as he turned his head back.

Matt appeared in the doorway with annoyance written across his face. He was holding the first-aid kit and an icepack as he walked over. He offered the kit to Frank while he walked over to you with the ice pack.

“Matt?” You asked as you looked over at him. He was still mostly in his Daredevil suit. His hair was mussed from the helmet and his gloves were off but otherwise, the red material still covered him all over.

“Hey,” He said as he sat on the edge of the bed. Frank had already shoved your shirt up away from your stomach and was carefully removing the popped stitches. You suddenly could feel how the pain radiated from your stomach, wincing with every movement Frank made against your sensitive injury, “Does your face hurt?” He asked. You let out a garbled ‘yeah’ as you tried not to wince in pain. He placed the icepack against it, leaning into the relief (and Matt’s hand). Matt’s gaze then turned away from you, your eyes closed at the small bit of relief, “What happened?” He snapped. Frank was now threading the needle, ready to stitch you up again.

“Her stitches popped while she slept,” Frank snapped back as he glanced up at you. You looked so serene considering the pain you were in but he didn’t have time to think about that. Instead, he focused back on your bleeding wound and pinched the skin together, beginning to stitch it. Matt could hear your soft whimpers and smell the spikes of cortisol with every prick but there wasn’t much he could do to relieve you.

“Knew you didn’t do a good job,” You mumbled from where your head rested. The fact that you were still joking brought some relief to Frank but his shoulders were still ridged as he focused on keeping you better.

“You wouldn’t stop squirming so it was kinda hard,” Frank joked back in response. You rolled your eyes playfully before you looked up at Matt.

“It’s always my fault, huh?” The pain hit you like a wave and he watched as you cried out, back arching. The brief jokey tone that you had taken vanished in seconds, “Fuck,” You wailed. Matt’s other hand came to rest in your hair, smoothing his thumb along your hairline. Your eyes squeezed shut as Frank continued his stitches.

“Nearly done now,” Frank reassured as he was on his last stitch. He tugged the skin back together before sealing the stitches up. Once he was happy, he leaned over and grabbed a piece of gauze, taping it over the wound, “Do you want some pain meds?” He asked. You hummed out, meaning ‘yes’ and Frank slipped off the bed to grab the pain meds from the kitchen. That left you and Matt alone for a moment.

“Where were you last night?” You asked, forcing your eyes open to meet Matt’s unfocused gaze, “I was worried about you,” You muttered. Matt sighed and he shifted his hand on your temple down to your cheek.

“I had to keep patrolling to make sure nobody came after you. How are you feeling?” He asked as you let out little hisses and whimpers of pain. He knew it was a stupid question and he knew exactly how your body was feeling but it was more comforting to hear you say it.

“Like shit,” You muttered, “Can’t believe being friends with you got me into this.” There was a teasing lilt to your tone and Matt chuckled. Even with your eyes half-closed, you knew that Matt felt guilty. You knew that he was blaming himself for what happened but you had decided to associate with Daredevil. Matt gave you the chance to walk away and you didn’t. It was just as much your fault as his.

“I’m sorry,” He said. You scoffed and shifted on the bed.

“Pft, this is nothing. I was walking around last night,” You responded simply. Matt couldn’t help but crack a smile as Frank walked back in with the pain meds and a spoon. Matt took it as his moment to slide off the bed.

“I need to go to the firm. Talk to Foggy and Karen. Will you be okay here?” Matt asked. Matt tried to make it seem like he was asking if you’d physically be okay but you knew that he was asking if you were comfortable with Frank being here. Which, to you, was an incredibly stupid question but you knew Matt. He didn’t trust Frank like you did. So, you simply nodded.

“I’ll be fine,” You reassured. Frank let out a soft ‘uh-huh’, almost glaring at Matt before he walked over to the bed. He helped you slowly get to your feet as Matt grabbed his helmet from the kitchen. He listened to the two of you for a moment before he decided that you would be fine under the care of Frank, “Thank you, for taking care of me,” You muttered as you looked up at Frank. You could see him better now in the daylight. His crooked nose from being broken one too many times, angular jaw, gorgeous fucking lips. His face was a little bruised up but he still looked so pretty to you. A love-sick smile began to overtake your face as Frank poured out a spoon of painkillers for you.

When he looked back up, he caught the way you were looking at him. You looked so bashful despite how bruised up you were. He held the spoon out and you took some down.

“Altarboy is too worked up,” Frank stated and you chuckled, swallowing down the painkiller. You nodded but that made your headache split across your temples. You winced before resting your head back.

“He needs to get laid,” You stated plainly. Frank chuckled at that and he poured another spoon out for you, “He’s not the only one but that won’t be happening for a while,” You muttered, a little bitterly. Frank held the spoon out for you, “They could have at least let me finish my date before they kidnapped me.” Frank’s eyebrows furrowed as you took the spoonful of painkillers, swallowing down the pink liquid.

“That guy was an asshole,” Frank stated and you looked at him, head tilted to the side slightly, “Didn’t treat you right.” You were a little puzzled by his words but you tried not to think about it. The guy you’d gone on a date with hadn’t been your type anyway but it was still a bummer that you lost the opportunity. It could have ended in you finally getting laid but it seemed that the universe had other plans; getting you tortured. What a bitch.

“Find a man that treats me right in this city and I’ll never look back, scout’s honour,” You muttered. Frank rolled his eyes and he grabbed the ice pack from the side, placing it against your face.

“Yeah. I’m not makin’ that promise,” He said simply. You couldn’t help the playful grin that spread across your face.

“Frank Castle backing down? I never thought I’d see the day,” You teased. Frank just rolled his eyes before he got up to his feet. You pouted at the loss of contact, craving the warmth of his touch. It had helped distract you from the pain.

“I’ll make some breakfast,” Frank said before he headed out of the room. You pouted, not exactly pleased but your stomach grumbled for something. So, you let him disappear to cook something delicious for you.

<3

[rottenraccoons]

Hi! I love the game, I'm absolutely obsessed with it. I noticed you don't have a patreon (or I can't find it), do you plan to do so in the future? I'd love to actively help you finish Obscura! Thank you so much for everything!

Thank you, nonny!

Patreon sounds cool, but at the moment we don't have any plans to use it. If you wanna support us the best way to do that is buying Obscura and giving it a review! On Steam, there are review thresholds that, when we pass them, we get small boosts to our visibility. We passed the 10 review threshold, and now we're looking at the 50 review threshold (hopefully we'll reach it before the end of the year) and the very distant but very exciting possibility of hitting the 500 review threshold. On itch.io the system is a little different, but a rating is still very helpful!

We're gonna finish Obscura regardless — barring some genuinely terrible thing happening to us — but there's stuff we'd love to do like porting the game or translating it for other markets, and the best way to get that kind of thing done is with a publisher with their big store of resources. Publishers are more likely to consider us if we can show them we've got an active and excited fanbase, so your enthusiasm is always helpful to us!

It sounds so cliche (which, fair, it totally is) but the best way to support us is to just buy the game, enjoy it, and share that enjoyment with us via reviews or with folks you know who might also like Obscura.

[heeliopheelia]

"please, come to bed" (heeseung x reader)

genre: fluff word count: 0.6k requested by nonnie ♡

a/n: it's 2am so i'm striking with another update lmao 💜 is2g after i'm done with this event you guys will be throwing up at the slightest mention of a heeseung drabble

Stopping dead in his tracks, Heeseung looks at you with confusion. He's just come back from work only to see your curled up posture on the couch, one that you have once claimed to hate sleeping on, which makes him wonder if he did anything to annoy you to such degree today. Silently, he runs over every little thing he's said to you, considering how or why could they make you so angry that you didn't want to sleep with him tonight.

He gives up eventually and walks up to you with a sigh. His tall figure steps in front of you, disturbing you from watching the newest episode of your favorite tv show. You peek up at him from above the blanket covering you from your feet all the way up to your nose.

"Oh, you're back!' You gasp happily, dropping the blanket down to stretch your arms out in a form of a hug invitation.

There's not even the slightest tint of anger in your voice which slightly calms Heeseung's nerves. He plops down next to you, instantly wrapping his arms around your smaller body.

Then he asks, clearly still bothered. "Why don't you wanna sleep with me tonight? Your back is gonna hurt from the couch again."

You internally coo at his worried face, big deer eyes peering at you with confusion. You smile sheepishly.

"There's a spider in our bedroom."

A spider. In our bedroom. It takes him couple seconds to even process your words properly. All of the tension leaves his body like air from a pierced balloon and he groans, pinching the bridge of his nose in between his fingers.

"And here I was worrying that I said something wrong or shit," he sighs, glancing at your pleading face from the corner of his eyes. He sighs again. "Fine. I'll be right back."

"Just don't kill it!" You call after him, pulling your knees up to your chest. "Catch it and let it out, okay?"

"Yeah, yeah. I know," he dismisses you with a wave of his hand before disappearing behind the wall.

You wait patiently for him to come back, wiggling your feet happily as you realize you'll actually be able to fall sleep tonight without having to stress about this little anomaly.

"There's no spider in here, YN!"

Your blood runs cold. What does he mean no spider. It was there half an hour ago, carelessly dangling from your ceiling right above your pillow.

You're still stiff when Heeseung comes back from the bedroom and crouches down in front of you. Placing his hands on your knees and squeezing them gently, he brings your attention back to him.

"You sure you didn't imagine it?"

His question has you scoffing and you cross your arms over your chest. "Yes, I'm sure," you say, squinting your eyes at him. He only rolls his own pair at your dramatic behavior. "Have you really checked everywhere?"

"Every single corner," he assures, placing his palm on his chest, right where the heart beats underneath his skin. "I promise it's not there. Must've ran away or something."

You stubbornly shake your head. "I'm not going anywhere. Heeseung, there's a beast roaming around our bedroom somewhere."

"Lord, give me patience," he murmurs quietly, deflating underneath your hard expression again. "Love, just please, come to bed," he groans, slowly giving up on the idea of actually getting any sleep tonight. He drops his head down on your lap. "I swear it won't come near you, alright? I'll tuck you in so tightly that it won't even find a place to slip underneath the covers."

You sigh, grabbing his hand hopefully. "You promise?"

He raises back to his feet, leaning down to press a kiss on your pouty lips. "I promise."

He lets out an internal cheer when you finally nod your head. Heeseung pecks your lips again, then repeats the gesture a little more fervently couple more times before slipping an arm underneath your knees and throwing you over his shoulder. He smacks your butt gently, earning an annoyed combo of a groan and a click of your tongue from you.

"Now, let's finally go to bed. I swear I haven't had a good night's sleep ever since I met you."

permanent taglist: @bambisgirl @arizejkt19 @luvmura @milisabunny @cathy-1997 @venividibitchin @ramenoil

[adventuringblind]

Let Me In, Please

Oscar Piastri x Reader

Genre: Angst, Mafia AU

Summary: Bodyguard Oscar knows something isn't right, he just wasn't expecting it to be so wrong.

Warnings: Implied r@pe, gun violence, depictions of self-harm

Notes: The request was for Enemies to Lovers, and I tried that... I'm not sure this meets your expectations, but I still hope you like it, Nonny!

Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi

How could she have been so stupid? This was supposed to be safe ground. An area she knows like the back of her hand. All she had to do was walk down the street to Oscar's apartment.

She tried calling him, but he didn't answer. The anxious part of her mind thought the worst.

Yeah, he certainly got on her nerves sometimes. Worse than her brother at times, but he knew when to give her space. Their friendship has been long and drawn out, but he'd do anything for her. He'd made that much clear. Regardless of how she pushed him away.

So, she didn't push anymore, instead she pulled... him down to kiss her.

Most nights he's stay at her place. The dangers of having a brother who runs her father's legacy: everybody is watching for a weak point.

Carlos had been it for her. The one who raised her with the untimely passing of their parents. But then he got busy, so he stuck her with Oscar.

At the time she thought Carlos had just gotten tired of having his little sister around. She knows better now and doesn't lash out at the Aussie for something that isn't his fault.

One block to his apartment. The longest, most difficult walk of her life. Her body hurts, clothes ruined, and skin dirty from his hands. She had no idea who he was, just that her own place isn't safe anymore. Not since he knew her name and managed to completely shatter a window to get in.

She's a mess. The dark streets not helping her mind.

The stairs almost kill her. Her muscles ache from fighting, the bruises rub against her clothes in all the wrong ways.

She reaches the door but hesitates to knock. The sinister thoughts in her head don't want to leave her alone.

She fixes her appearance. A little less wrecked than she looked previously, maybe enough to pass off a nightmare and some stupid anxiety.

She knocks. Oscar answers, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He looks surprised to see her, but the sleepy smile shows her he isn't upset about it.

He pulls her inside and offers her a mug of hot chocolate. Her favorite concoction of his. It's a drug that soothes her aching soul from the mess she's created.

He takes a seat next to her on the couch. "So, what brings you here so late?"

"Nightmare... you didn't answer your phone so I thought maybe something happened." She avoids his gaze. Eye's studying her, determing if he should push for more information.

"You're brother would kill me if he knew you walked here alone."

"He would also kill you if he knew that we're dating."

"Fair point."

Oscar lends her his clothes to sleep in and tucks her into bed. He's still awake, watching over her dutifully, even as her mind drifts into the peacefulness of sleep.

♤♡◇♧

Oscar doesn't like to snoop. Well, sometimes it's fun, but not when he's investigating the apartment of someone he loves.

Something is off, and he's going to figure it out. Her restless slumber and nails digging into her skin only helped co fin his thoughts.

He'd dropped her with Carlos and went right to her apartment. Only to find the door left open and window shattered.

Why hadn't she told him someone had broken in? Unless it was worse than that... but that wouldn't make sense.

Suspicions confirmed, Oscar heads back to get his lover. Hopefully, not to pissed at her brother. Their one-sided arguments have been getting worse. Enough for him to see how it's exhausting her.

She wants her brother, and he sends her away. She tries to comfort him, and he pushes her away. Enough to get aggressive on a few occasions when he's particularly peeved.

It's been a half hour, so the damage can't be too bad. Oscar speeds his way to Carlos' office, where both of them should be. Anxious to make sure she doesn't feel the need to slip back into old habits.

Oscar and her have been through the ringer with each other. He's seen the worst parts of her and made it a point to love her regardless.

To strong for some, to weak for her brother. It's astounding how cruel people are when they are intimidated by someone. Oscar feels comfortable knowing she can put a bullet through a skull.

Even so, it's jarring when he finds the office door wide open. Carlos is pacing back and forth, ranting to himself in Spanish.

Oscar still knocks before he just waltz in unannounced. He'd rather not get shot. Thank you very much.

"Mr. Sainz?" Oscar doesn't flinch when Carlos whips around and jabs a finger in his direction.

"Don't you dare leave my sister alone again."

Okay, he's a bit taken aback at that. "Sir?"

"I've been notified one of my men was at her apartment last night." Carlos slaps a file of images on the desk.

Oscar has to grit his teeth. The story they depict makes his heart shatter and anger course through his veins.

"I want him dead."

"Understood sir."

He walks out of the office, shoulders squared. Nobody gets to mess with his girl like that.

♤♡◇♧

The cold tile against her body is oddly numbing. It's familiar, a home when her emotions get too much.

Carlos showed her the photos. It hurt enough to make her sick. The bile burning her throat at having to relive the events of last night. The yelling hadn't helped either. Another mess for her brother to clean up.

The blade lays discarded next to her. The blood from her thigh staining the pristine white floor. The sting makes it better. Deserved for causing such a problem. Neccecary for removing the tainted skin. At least what she can for now.

She bleeds away the sins others have committed against her.

The door opens. She doesn't look to see who it is. She already knows. He's wearing his work boots. The ones she's come to be familiar with through this position.

Despite the sleek black color. She can vaugley make out the spots of red.

It's intimate, in a way, how Oscar cleans the blood from both of them simultaneously. He scrubs it off his hands and disinfect her thighs. He uses gentle movements to bandage the deep wounds. Barely moving her in the process.

She hadn't even noticed she was crying. Not until he sits down with her. Careful not to touch her in a way she wouldn't like right now.

She breaks when he bleaches the tiles. The red disappears like it has never been there.

The choked sobs wrack her body. Silent scream, mourning something that was taken from her. The burning in her thighs is a solid reminder of the atrocities she's plauged her brother and Oscar with

Always the problem, never the solution.

"Can I hold you?" His soft voice doesn't help her tears.

"Why would you want to do that? I'm just another - I don't know - dirty problem for you and my brother to deal with?"

Oscar holds his hand out for her to take. She reaches for him hesitantly. She knows Oscar would never hurt her. Not when he shoots anyone who does.

"You are not dirty. You are not a problem. I may joke about it, but I wouldn't have anyone else making my days interesting like you do." Oscar places a soft kiss to the top of her head. "You're the best problem I could've asked for."

"But, I feel gross now." She chokes on her air, suffocating on the feeling of that man's hands on her skin.

"I know it'll be hard, but I also know that you are strong. I'll be there for you when you need me. When you need me to compliment you, when you need to sit in the shower and was away the feelings, hell, even if you punch something, just tell me. Though I'd prefer you not punch me."

"You're not going to leave?"

"Love, I'm your problem. You're stuck with me."

"I guess we can be problems together then."

"Nah, you're not a problem. Just the love of my life."

She rests her head on Oscar's shoulder, hands still intertwined. It's small, but comfortable for now.

She knows Oscar won't push her. He'll be there when she's ready.

[bbunivxrse]

AHHH I LOVED UR "HATED HIM" GOJO FIC ITS SO CUTEE🥹 I WANNA SEE A PART 2!! im curious will the reader date gojo or js continue to hate him lmao

❥ IMPROVEMENTS - SATORU GOJO

pairing: gojo x f!reader contents: pt 2 to this fic although you dont need to read it to understand this one. no warnings js fluff here !!! word count: 2.5k on the DOT a/n: HII NONNIE IM SSOOO HAPPY U LIKED IT!!! im sorry this took so long ive been busy with work and exams coming up :( hopefully i can post more often soon :((( ANYWAZ ENJOY

so maybe you don’t hate Satoru Gojo. not anymore. since that moment you shared with him, you thought everything would go back to normal, and for the most part it did. well, you think it did, but everyone else saw the changes clear as day.

as time passed, from an outside perspective it seemed like the two of you suddenly had a… “stable” friendship. both “stable” and “friendship” being used very very loosely. although gojo prefered “happy relationship” and “loving marriage”. the yelling matches (you yelling at gojo while he just sits there and smiles like an idiot) that used to occur multiple times daily went down to only once a day, if at all. you didn’t seem to shoo him away as much or rant about how annoying he is. it was almost like you were warming up to him.

if nobody knew what had happened between the two of you it would’ve seemed like a random switch that went off one day, except everyone did know what happened, cuz gojo’s big mouth went and told everyone the next fucking day. to escape being made fun of to no end, you told everyone you only kissed him so he’d shut up and there was no feelings beyond that, which was half true. the other half of you knew that being all bandaged up by him after a mission gone wrong, sitting in his bed while he tells you how much he cares about you, a man who’d usually piss you off and act all goofy. to see him like that was like a breath of really fresh air and kinda changed the way you saw him.

obviously he was still super annoying and pissed you off, but he seemed to finally get the memo and tuned it down so that it was actually manageable. his laugh was suddenly cuter, his face was less punchable and his flirting was almost starting to fluster you. almost. he still made those stupid comments and monologues for waaayy too long but he got a lot sweeter in his teasing and actions. he somehow found out what your favourite foods and places to eat were and bought you food after long days of school, training sessions and missions and took you to places around tokyo on outings “dates”. your friendship with him was finally tolerable. 

waking up on a sunday morning, you hear the sound of buzzing from your phone on your bedside table. 

incoming call from gojo.

its way too early for him to be bothering you already, but you know very well that if you don’t pick up now he’ll keep calling til you do. you silently curse shoko for giving him your number when he asked her, since he already knew you’d say no to him. “what do you want?” you answer his call, putting the phone to your ear as you sit up in bed. “good morning to you too i guess..” you can hear the pouting in his voice. “what are you up to today??” 

“i’m training a bit with nanami and haibara later.” you check the clock on the table, mentally starting to plan when you’re gonna start getting ready to meet the two of them. “nanami!? why would you train with him!? he doesn’t know anything.” he seemed to completely tune out the second name you mentioned

“he knows more than you.” you laugh at his dramatic gasp over the phone, picturing the look on his face. “whateverrrr. you should train with me instead!” 

“no.” 

“what!? why not?? im soooo much better than him!” you can hear the passion in his voice and you begin to wonder how he can have so much energy so early in the morning, especially on a sunday. “please humble yourself, and i already told nanami i’d train with them anyway.” you glance back at your clock, continuing to consider how long you can stay in bed for. “fiiineee. we can train together next time. what’re you doing after that?” 

“after training i’m gonna…” your voice trails off as you think back to earlier this week, trying to recall if you had made any other plans with anyone for today. “not doing anything later. i’m probably gonna go back to my dorm.” you confessed, forgetting exactly who you were on the phone with. “oh so you’re free later? perfect! we sh-“ 

“no, i’m not free. i’m going back to my dorm gojo. and i’m staying there. all day.” you make sure to give him the details of your plan to stay in your room so he doesn’t have any wiggle room to plan anything. “hmmmm.. okay! ill just come over then!” 

“what?? n-“ 

“cyalaterbye!!” you hear the phone beep as he hangs up, now looking down at your lock screen. 'god he’s sooo annoying.'

getting out of bed after looking down at your clock again, you decide you have more than enough time to watch a bit of the show you’ve been catching up on. maybe about two and a half episodes?

checking the time halfway through the first episode, you decide you’re not in the mood to continue watching and you’ll watch a movie instead after training. you get up and begin getting ready for the scheduled training session you had, lightly fixing up your hair so you looked presentable and throwing on your uniform before heading out. 

training with nanami and haibara went well, and you were all surprised gojo didn’t show up to bother you but you figured he was busy with his own thing. coming home you immediately threw your uniform onto the floor and went to take a shower, feeling all gross and sweaty. ‘ill pick it up later.’

you turn the water on, allowing it to get hot before stepping into the shower. you decided to use your favourite body wash that smelled like heaven in a bottle, the scent filling up the entire bathroom and making all the air around you smell like your favourite fragrance. you linger in the shower for a bit, the hot water feeling therapeutic against your skin. once you were done you headed back to your room, throwing on some comfy flared sweats and a random tank top from your wardrobe. looking in the mirror, the outfit was surprisingly cute, and really comfortable.

in a good mood from the nice shower and already feeling pretty after only putting on some  random clothes, you decided to have fun and do some light makeup. maybe you’ll run a few errands later? you were a bit low on snacks at the moment.

finishing off your makeup with a pretty lipgloss, you look in your little snack drawer to see what you had left. some gum, a few candies and one bag of your favourite chips you’re planning to save. maybe it was time to restock. 

you throw on a light jacket and grab your bag, gathering your essentials and getting your shoes on before leaving your dorm. you decided to go to the little convenience store only a few minutes away since they had all the snacks you like. 

within a few minutes you made it to the store, picking out a bunch of snacks and candies you liked. as you were looking at the new flavours of candy they had, the bell by the door jingled as someone entered the store. “y/n!!” you heard a familiar voice behind you. “why are you here?? you said you were staying in your dorm. all day.” gojo mocks the tone you used with him on the phone earlier. “i changed my mind. why are you here?” 

“satoru wanted to get some candy on the way home.” suguru appears from behind him, giving you a smile and a polite wave. “hmm.. they have a nice selection here, what do you think i should get?” gojo puts a hand to his chin as he looks through all the candies. “the sour green apple candy from this brand is really good. and the lemon flavour too, they’re my favourites.” you say as you point to the candies. “then they’re my favourites too,” gojo immediately picks up two of each flavour you recommended, before picking a few other candies he knows you like.

“you do not need all that sweetness. think about your health.” suguru grimaces at the amount of sweets in gojos hands. “i’m not gonna eat all of it! do you really think that low of me? i’m sharing with my girlfriend.” he plops his purchase on the counter for the cashier, smiling down at you “and i’m still coming over,” 

“i didnt agree to that, nor do you have girlfriend.” 

“don’t care,” gojo shrugs as he takes his bag full of your favourite candies, cheerfully skipping out the door followed by you and suguru. the two of you followed as he happily pranced down the street and back to school. 

“you’re really not gonna leave me alone?” 

“nope!” you and gojo stand outside your dorm as he waits for you to unlock the door. you sign at his persistence, grabbing your keys from your bag and opening the door. he had never actually been in your dorm before so this was like a new world to him. “kinda messy in here. you needa clean up a bit y/n” gojo steps inside as if it were his own house, yet looks around at your space as if he were at a museum. “do you ever shut up? and take your shoes off. don’t step on my nice carpet. if it gets dirty i will kill you.” 

“yes ma’am.” he obeyed as if his life was truly in danger. you take off your own shoes, putting your jacket and bag away before plopping yourself on your bed. you watch gojo pace around your small dorm room, picking up random objects to inspect before humming and placing it back down. you know he should be monitored carefully while in proximity of your stuff but you really can’t be bothered to babysit right now and just allow him to stimulate himself.

after a few minutes of replying to missed texts from a few of your friends, you hear gojo sigh, dropping the bag of candy on the floor and placing his glasses alongside the makeup you put on earlier. you realize he hadn’t said a word for those few minutes. “you’re being too silent, what are yo-“ gojo fully drops himself on top of you, his hard head hitting your chest so hard you swear you heard a rib crack. “holy fucking shit you fatass, get off me!! you’re heavy.” you try to push him off you but he doesn’t budge. “but ‘m tired baby,” he whines as he made himself more comfortable on top of you. “i will kill you.” 

“m‘kay..” gojo yawns, wrapping his arms around you. now you’re stuck, great. you honestly didn’t think the word ‘tired’ existed in gojo’s vocabulary since he somehow always has energy. you had never seen him sleep before, which sounds somewhat normal until you remember the overnight trips and missions you and your classmates went on frequently, where gojo never slept. or he never let anyone see him sleep. you didn’t really realize it until now, with him on your chest already seeming close to knocking out.

as much as it annoyed you that you couldn’t get up to eat the candy he’d bought for the two of you to have, you figured if you woke him up he’d just bother the shit out of you until you let him sleep again, and you honestly realize how cute he is when he’s quiet. sighing in defeat, you open up your laptop that you had left on your bed earlier and throw on a movie you had already wanted to watch today. “hm..? what’s that?” gojo mumbles as he’s half asleep. “the movie suguru recommended me the other day. the one about the samurai?” 

“ohhh.” gojo turns his head away from the screen to rest on the other side of his head “that one sucks. and the main character dies.” 

“ugh, spoiler warning next time??” you flick the top of his head as he laughs. you scroll through the selection of movies on the site, humming occasionally while adding interesting movies to your watch later list. eventually you find a random movie that you had never heard of but it looks interesting enough and decide to watch it. the large boy laying on top of you turns his head back to the screen once he hears the new film playing. this time he doesn’t say anything, but you notice his eyes struggling to stay open as he yawns literally every waking minute.

“gojo why don’t you go back to your dorm to sleep? you can barely keep your eyes open,” you giggle at him as he tries to look offended but clearly doesn’t have to energy to. “mn-mm. ‘m watchin… with my wife.” he yawns mid sentence. “well i’m not your wife, soooo…” 

“you are my wife… we’re married… you remember.”  you know he normally only says stuff like that to get under your skin, but sometimes it sounds like he truly believes it, which is a bit scary. you can’t even pay attention to the movie with how hard you’re contemplating to get him off you and in his own bed, but it seems there’s truly no solution. he’s a freakishly tall and muscular man with 100% of his body weight on top of you, so you obviously can’t push him off. and he clearly wont willingly get up, and you know you can’t convince him to get up, so you begin to accept that you might actually be stuck here. 

“ill let you stay if you grab the bag of candy for me,” gojo seems to be too tired to remember that there’s nothing you can do to force him to leave and he easily could’ve refused. he lazily throws the bag onto the bed beside you before plopping himself right back where he was before. “now lemme stay.” you roll your eyes instinctively, grabbing the bag and picking out one of the candies gojo had picked for you. he lets out one last yawn before allowing his tiredness to consume him.

as you open up the sweets and start eating, you look down at gojo. you never really took a moment to actually realize how pretty he really is, and especially how cute he looks while he sleeps. as creepy as that sounds. you think it’s because his mouth is finally shut and he’s not saying the most annoying sentences he can come up with, or constantly blabbering to you about stuff you never asked him about and have no interest in. you honestly didn’t mind this heavy man peacefully asleep on top of you as you eat candy and watch a movie. it was quite nice, actually. maybe you’ll start to allow gojo to do things like this more often. 

i really had no idea how to end this :SOB: but it turned out well i hope. pls send requests btw i have ZERO idea what to write neext

[beneathashadytree]

Heyy can I request 57 and 63 for Mori Ogai smut? For your event ofc💓

SHAMELESS - MORI OUGAI X READER

Warnings : dubcon (reader is coerced into it, but they secretly want it), Mori is a perverted underwear thief, unprotected sex, no prep, some objectification and degradation, belly-bulge, this is not proofread, reader is gender-neutral!

Genre : smut born from hell

Word count : 0.8K words

Additional notes : I hope you like this one, nonnie! It’s very… different than anything I’ve ever written, but hopefully still somewhat enjoyable🫣

Prompts : “I knew you were secretly a pervert, but this…!” “You say that, but all I hear is ‘more, more, more.’”

Tip jar if you’d like to buy me a Ko-Fi!

Masterlist

“Oh my fucking God,” they choked out from the doorway, a horrified expression on their face as they looked at their boss where he lounged in front of them.

Sprawled all over the bed, it didn’t seem that the interruption bothered him in the least. There he was, amidst their rumpled sheets and looking perfectly at home intruding on their bedroom, a smirk on his curved lips and his long hair splayed out on their pillow.

But perhaps most alarming of all, was the fact that he’d pulled his hard cock out of his pants, and wrapped a fistful of their underwear around his leaking tip. If they looked closer, they’d notice that he’d already stained the fabric with his cum.

“Cat got your tongue?” His voice came out a little breathy, no doubt from the exertion of his… activities.

Their face was a bright red, feeling more embarrassed than the culprit himself was, apparently. “I’d worn those! They’re used!”

“That’s the whole point, my dear,” Mori chuckled, sitting up enough to look at them with his hungry eyes. “All the better to pretend I’m fucking you through them. And they smell… divine, I must say.”

They started feeling a little dizzy. “I knew you were secretly a pervert, but this…!”

“Is exactly what you’d like me to do to you, isn’t it?” He began to stroke his cock up and down once again, the slick sounds almost pornographic, as were his groans of pleasure. Even through his haze of lust, he managed to meet their eyes with a challenging look. “You want me to fuck you full with my cock, don’t you?”

“N-no, I—“

“Come, now,” he huffed out with a mirthless laugh, fucking their underwear in his fist. “You expect me to believe that when your own feet dragged you over here?”

Indeed, they’d walked over to the bed without even noticing it. It was almost like they were in a trance; unable to look away from his weeping, flushed tip, or the underwear stained with the pearlescent sheen of his previous release. Something about the sight knocked the wind out of them, and they hated every bit of it.

Now close enough for it, Mori used his other arm to drag them down onto the mattress beside him. “Take the one you’re wearing off right now,” he ordered. His smirk was anything but pleasant, but something about him right now demanded that they do just as he asks them to.

“Why?”

“I will either fuck you through it, or fuck myself with it. Which will it be?” he snapped at them, impatiently.

Under his lecherous stare, they could only reach out with wobbly arms and try to take off their pants. It seemed that they’d take too long, however, because no sooner had they stripped them off did he grab them by the hips.

“W-wait,” they cried out, as he unceremoniously shoved their underwear out of the way enough for him to slip his cock in the space created. “Sir, please, slow down!”

Mori shook his head, nudging his cockhead at them and wetting their entrance with his own mix of arousal and release, and watching as their eyes screwed up with a mix of sudden pleasure and worry. He paid their words no heed, as he could see just how much they’d wanted this from the way they pushed back onto his cock, as if begging him to do it faster.

And so he obliged them, and his own carnal desires. With one move, he’d shoved his cock inside them all at once, filling them to the brim and causing them to cry out his name, sobbing curses into his neck as they fell ontop of him. Clicking his tongue, he listened as they tried to formulate pathetic words of protest.

“F-fuck, I can’t… oh God! H-hurts,” they sniffled, digging their nails into his shoulders as he immediately began to pound into them, without so much as a care as to how they whimpered and their body jerked with every rough thrust. “I can’t take it… mmm, fuck!”

“You say that, but all I hear is ‘more, more, more,’” he chuckled, “You’re squeezing me like you never want me to pull out. And you expect me to believe you can’t take it?” His grip on their hips was merciless, and sure to leave a bruise by the morning.

Their insides felt like they were being molded to fit his cock; to be his perfect little fucktoy. His brutal pace was dragging the most pathetic whines and cries of protest out of them. He looked away from their tear-stained face, his dark eyes flitting between the sight of their belly bulging with each thrust, and where their drooling hole kept sucking his cock back inside them.

“You like it so much, and it’s killing you,” he laughed at the realization, something akin to wicked delight in his voice as his hips snapped up to meet their wobbly humps on his cock, “You want me to fuck you stupid, and you hate it.” All light vanished from his eyes, and he looked almost cruel as he met their gaze. “Good. I like my playthings messy.”

Taglist : @wifeofkyojuro @girlypowhat8 @the-foreigner

[holdmytesseract]

hello!! i saw you were looking for steamy stuff with daryl and was thinking about leaving him some steamy pictures with a polaroid, maybe they slip it to him at the worst time and he gets flustered and embarrasses himself or stick with steamy and he decides he wants to take his own pictures of them 😏

anyway, i hope you have a lovely day/evening 🥰

Sinful Distraction

Daryl Dixon x fem!Reader

Summary: You decide to leave a little surprise for Daryl. A little sinful distraction while he's away.

Warnings: umm... mentions of naughty photos? tiny bit spicy, fluff?

Set in Season 9!

Word Count: 1,2k

a/n: Thanks for the request, nonny! 😁 I loved it, hehe. Hopefully you like what I wrote! 🧡

Tagging: @km-ffluv @stitchintimefan @sweetpeapod @loz-3 @peaches1958 @fictive-sl0th @lou12346789 @bookofsecretjourneys @azanoni @fuseburner @hotgirlsshareaccounts @in-this-minute

Masterlist

A cheeky smile danced across your lips as you put the Polaroid you coincidentally found on the last run back in its hiding place, before you sat down on the bed and admired the pictures you just took. You bit your lip. They were perfect - and hopefully able to distract Daryl just a tiny bit.

Your man was going out for a few days, probably a week, helping Rick out, of course, to build the bridge, and you decided to not let him leave without a little... surprise. A gift, rather. He just had to find it. You'd hide the pictures in the back pocket of his baggy jeans, hoping that he'd need the red rug he always carried with him in that pocket. A perfect plan, wasn't it? You bit your lip, smirking; proud that you had this idea.

"Y/N?" Daryl's voice echoed down the stairs towards the basement you and Daryl called home. Hastily, you hid the pictures in your pocket, thinking he was coming downstairs. "I'm here! Yeah?!" He wasn't. "We are goin' in a bit! Thought ya might wanna come up and say goodbye?!" "You can bet your butt on this! I'm coming, baby!" You heard Daryl snort out a laugh. "Thought ya need my butt?! Ain't got nothin' to hold on when it's gone!" You couldn't prevent a rather loud giggle leaving your lips. You loved when Daryl once in a while got all humorous and sassy. He had such a dry sense of humour - and you loved it. "Well... Point for you, hon!" "I'll be outside!" You could hear the amusement in his voice. He was definitely smiling. You took a last look at the pictures, before you hid them again and quickly made your way up the stairs and out of the house. Daryl sat on the stairs on the porch, clearly waiting for you. As soon as he heard the door close shut, the archer stood up and turned around, facing you. "Ready?" He asked. You knew exactly what he meant. He asked it every time, just like you gave him the same answer - every time. "I'll never be ready to be separated from you." Daryl bit the inside of his lip - a habit you loved so much. "I know. 'M sorry. I hate leavin' ya, 's just..." "You have to, I know." You nodded, smiling and stepped with him down the stairs. When you and him hit solid ground again, you immediately reached for him; took his big hands into yours. "It's okay. It's who you are and what you do. I-I mean, I would've accompanied you, but Michonne needs me here a-and..." Now Daryl was the one who nodded, giving you a soft smile. "She does," he said. "Alexandria does." You smiled at him as well, touched by the utter sweetness of this man.

Daryl squeezed your intertwined hand and looked from side to side, checking his surroundings and making sure nobody was looking, before he dipped his head in order to give you a sweet kiss. Showing affection in public was still something he had to get used to, but you didn't complain, gave him all the time he needed. You leaned in the kiss, of course, trying to make it last as long as possible; even letting go of his hands, in order to wrap them around his neck. You were successful, keeping the archer's lips locked onto yours for a little while longer, before he withdrew, blushing ever so softly. He is so cute, you thought, suppressing an upcoming giggle. Then you suddenly remembered the pictures, which were still in the pocket of your jeans. That had to change, of course. So, you scanned the street again, pulling Daryl in another kiss and catching him quite a bit by surprise. Now that he was distracted by your lips on his, you reached for the pictures in your pocket, wrapping your arms around your man's broad torso, lowered your palms on his ass and finally managed to slip the cargo in his back pocket.

Daryl jumped at your sudden bold, intimate move and ended the kiss, looking at you with slightly widened eyes and an even darker shape of red on his cheeks. "What ya doin', woman?!" You giggled, remembering the conversation you had earlier with him. "Makin' sure it's still there. Testin' if I can still hold onto it, ya know." You said and winked, causing him to playfully roll his eyes.

After saying once again thoroughly goodbye to Daryl and the others who accompanied him, you retreated back to the little basement apartment you shared with the archer; hoping that your mischievous, cheeky plan was going to be successful.

After travelling to the bridge, alongside Aaron, Rick and Carol, Daryl went immediately to work. After all, the bridge didn't build itself. The archer didn't quite like to work with the Saviors. Former enemies, now turned allies, but he didn't have a choice, did he? They needed every help they could get. It was a big task and couldn't be done just by Alexandrians. Working in the heat of the summer wasn't exactly great as well, but that was also a thing which couldn't be changed.

It took Daryl almost two days to find the surprise you had hid for him but eventually, he found it...

"Daryl?" The archer lifted his head, looking up to face Aaron, who stood a few meters away from him. "Yeah?" "Have you got a rug or something with you?" Daryl nodded, sat back on his heels and reached for the familiar red rug in the back pocket of his jeans - only to find something what definitely didn't feel like his rug. His rug was there, too, but also something else. He frowned, but took the rug first, throwing it towards Aaron. "Thanks!" Daryl gave his friend a nod, before standing up and reaching for the other items in his pocket - which he had identified as Polaroid pictures, but the man didn't have a single clue what were on them, of course. When his gaze landed on the three pictures, his heart almost stopped beating for a second, eyes widening. He expected a lot - but not seeing you on them half naked, or well... very scarcely dressed. Goddamnit, woman, he thought, feeling his cheeks literally burn with how hard he was blushing. If he'd have found them in his tent, back at the camp, it wouldn't have been a problem, but out here? In 'public'? With all the men around him? No, he couldn't help himself but go as red as a beetroot. Nevertheless, he also couldn't help himself, but to skip through the pictures. The temptation was just too big. Just because he was slightly embarrassed, didn't mean that he didn't like what he saw... Quite the opposite. Daryl rather had to fight against the upcoming issue in his pants... On the backside of the last picture was something written on it, like he noticed. 'Thought you might need a bit distraction some time... ;)' Naughty girl, the archer thought, shaking his head. "Jus' ya wait 'til I get home..." He muttered under his breath. Revenge was sweet, after all, wasn't it?

[cherrycrushes]

I don’t want to go crazy with ‘too sweet’ or anything and I WILL req other schlatt x reader content BUT-

Prt 3 of ‘too sweet’; Reader TOPS jschlatt (or it’s set up for topping him) you….. you know what to do from here 😈💕

(you can have both of them be switches if that’s more comfy btw)

~🍰🍴

two sweet pt. 3 - oneshot (18+)!!

jschlatt x reader.

part one; part two

a/n: hi again nonny!! sorry if it's been taking long to get to any requests im sick rn :( but with that comes topping schlatt brainrot !! hope u enjoyed im so sorry it's rlly short 😔 i might make more schlatt oneshots so hopefully it makes it up AND AND IDK WHY RHE PICS R LIKE THAT SORRY GUYS

your giggles echoed in the room as you straddle jschlatt by his hips. he groaned and throws his head back as you started grinding against him.

"you're driving me nuts sweetheart..."

"shhh, let me take care of you," you put your lips on his to silence him.

he starts whining, wanting more and more of you. you kept teasing, edging him just a bit more. when you started riding him a little faster, you put your hands on his chest. his hands reaching for your waist, before you moved yours to stop him.

"how about a game, yeah?" you chuckled, baby hairs sticking to your forehead with sweat. "you won't be able to touch me til i say so."

schlatt threw his head back, annoyed, but grew harder at the thought of it. he dropped his arms down to play along. you put yours around the sides of his face on the bed frame, giving him a full view of your tits.

you started going at an intense pace, almost desperate. when you felt schlatt's dick hit a spot in your cervix, you could tell he hit the stop you've been looking for. you mewled as he kept hitting it. the wet noises and strained sobs filled the room.

"y/n please," he moaned. "fuck- i don't think im gonna-"

as you bucked your hips and went down once more, he sputtered out a mix of moans and your name. you felt dizzy as you came at the same time. slowly riding out your high.

you flopped next to the sweaty man and smiled, still panting from exhaustion. he awaited your words as he looked at you.

"well that was fun!"

[writing-whump]

Hector fic with Isaiah caretaker

Missing their brotherly love

Awww. This came at the perfect moment, nonny! Very very sick Hector from the seawater plus Isaiah. I struggled with this continuation for two days, then scrapped it and wrote it from the beginning and now I think it finally works, lol

Seawater part 2

"Isaiah. Isaiah, wake up."

Isaiah groaned, opening one eye at Matthew shaking his shoulder lightly. "Hmmm?"

"Stop playing a vampire. Up with you."

"Is something wrong?" Cowebs of sleep were slowing down his thoughts. Between training and afternoon, he slept like a dead, that was true. It helped him function for the rest of the time like he was fine.

Then again, Matthew wouldn't disturb him if it wasn't something serious.

"Go check on your brothers. Hector's sick as heck."

Yep, that was like a bucket of cold water, washing the cobwebs away. Isaiah sat up, kneading at his forehead. "What do you mean sick? What happened?"

Matthew shrugged, crossing his arms on his chest. "Threw up all over the hall, that's what happened. All seawater too. Think he drowned himself in a hissy fit or something."

"Seawater..."

"Yeah. I cleaned it up, just so you know."

Isaiah got up from the bed to change his lose shirt into a more formal short-sleeved button up and pants. "Did he ask for me?" he said hopefully.

"Nope." Matthew grinned. "Asked me not to get you, actually." He sounded terribly happy with himself for doing the exact opposite.

Isaiah shook his head. "Alright. Thank you." In that moment Isaiah was incredibly grateful Matthew was his second and would always be in his corner. Nobody else's.

...

Hector was pretty sure this was what rock bottom felt like.

He was heaving over the toilet for the umpteenth time, thick gushes of seawater shooting out of him like someone opened a damn faucet. Although that must have been the 8th time he was puking, his stomach still felt all bubbly and distended, firm to the touch.

He felt so incredibly full. The stupid water didn't seem to want to stop—he couldn't remember drinking as much of that damn thing as was coming back.

His mouth tasted bitter and salty, and he wasn't sure if his voice was shot from the salt or the repeated vomiting of it. Even worse was the constant thirst. He felt so thirsty his eyes and tongue burned, but he also couldn't phantom putting anything in his stomach.

It was as swollen ball of swirling cramps and misery. It hurt to touch, to not touch, to lean against anything.

Oh and the killer headache he was developing, that was fun too. Hector rarely got headaches, they were always somehow relegated to his youngest brother. Must have been from the dehydrayation.

He would have loved to drink so much, but the mere idea had him retching violently over the toilet again to the point he was seeing starts.

"Okay, just get it up, it's okay," Arnie said in a frantic voice that told him it was everything but okay. The younger blonde crouched beside Hector, one hand braced on his heaving brother's back, the other scrolling through Google articles about seawater poisoning.

Google to the rescue for real.

Hector spat a tangly bit of saliva into the toilet. It was just cloudy whirling seawater. He flushed the toilet and slumped back against the wall. A woozy feeling was joining the chorus of pains, the cold titles of the tiny apartment's bathroom digging into his knees.

His vision was swimming in and out of focus. Was he still at sea? His stomach was somersaulting like on a damn boat.

"This is good Hex. Your body will get rid of the salt and then you will make up for it with proper water and you'll be okay," Arnie said, hand patting Hector's cheek. "Just don't go passing out on me, deal?"

Hector forced his eyes open and snorted, the sound reverberating in his chest like a bullet. "Not passing out. 's fine, pipsquak. I'm fine."

His stomach muscles convulsed again and he struggled to keep the grimace off his face.

Arnie winced, attuned to his breathing. His hand landed on Hector's elbow as he helped him lean over the toilet again. Just in time for Hector's stomach to wring itself out of his throat, the splash echoing over the room.

Hector heaved several more times on empty, feeling the water swirl in his stomach, fighting for freedom. Or maybe just inflamming everything it touched for good measure. "Damn thing...w-won't stop..."

Arnie lifted himself on his knees to rub Hector's back, a steady presence. His worry warmed Hector up, gave him something to focus on. It helped with the panicky feeling rising in his chest as goosebumps rose on his arms.

The nausea was always there, horrible, higher than he ever felt before. He constantly felt like he could throw up, jaw tingling with it.

His stomach cramped fiercely, and Hector doubled over with a groan, falling into Arnie. The younger boy squealed, almost toppling under Hector's weight. "You can't even hold your head up anymore...we need to get you into bed-"

"God, my stomach...." Hector was way beyond caring what he was saying. The way his belly seized drowned out anything else. He curled up on the floor around his middle, moaning as his overfull insides tried to tear themselves in two.

"I got him," came a sudden voice. Another pair of hands was on Hector's back, massaging into the center of the tightly locked muscles. His body convulsed on the floor, his head almost bumping into the toilet tank, wasn't it for someone's palm on his forehead suddenly softening the impact.

"-Arnie, we need something to rehydrate him quickly-"

"-won't keep anything down! He retches every two fucking minutes, I don't know-"

The voices mixed, rose and fell with emotion but Hector couldn't tell them apart. It felt like his head was underwater, everything muffled by bubbles, and blood was rushing in his ears.

He recognized words like "pharmacy," "taxi," and "take Matthew." On some level, he could still perceive Arnie's voice jumping in worry and another calmer voice with an almost commanding presence saying something back.

The floor shifted under him and then fell away with a terrible sinking feeling. Hector struggled against the weird sensation, someone's arm around his back, hoisting him up. It was too quick, too unexpected. His belly cramped and sent out a new fountain of seawater. He felt like a water ballon toy squished in the middle.

"Hang on, buddy, hang on. It will be over in a second."

The temperatures changed as did the light, but his vision was still out. He could only see from behind his eyelids, eyes squeezed shut against the wave of vertigo and nausea clawing his mouth open at every turn.

He felt something soft underneath as he was lowered onto the bed, almost melting at the contact. That felt so much better than the hard floor. Before he could find his bearings, a gross feeling drove his teeth apart as yet another watery puke sprayed out.

Hands on his back again. Lifting him up on his side just enough so he could puke into something with a plastic bottom, the water splashing loudly against it. "There you go. It's okay, just breathe. Breathe, Hex."

It was a good tip since his throat burned with the rest of the salty contents. Hector took a breath, feeling like drowning all over again. He had to cough to clear his throat, but once he was breathing, he went completely limp against the pillow, exhausted.

It felt like he was asleep for entire two minutes, when he woke up again. He blinked his eyes open against, the offending afternoon sunlight. His mouth still felt terrible, his throat ached from thrist...the nausea was still there, high and horrible, but he could sleep through it, he would love to sleep through it...

A piercing cramp, like a knife to the stomach made him distinctly aware why he woke up. He shifted, trapped underneath the blankets, to curl up on his side, a whole-bodied shiver of revulsion shaking him from head to toe.

"You awake? Hey, bud." A hand on his arm, stroking small circles. He recognized the voice with a wince.

"Zaya...?"

"Yeah, right here. Welcome back to the land of the living." There was a smile in his tone, but with an edge of artificial lightness.

Hector forced himself to roll on his back to see and indeed, Isaiah was there, sitting against the wall on top of the blankets. All in black to keep in style, his hand still on Hector's shoulder, going with his movement.

Hector squinted his eyes, his head was hammering away with every breath he took.

Something about the sight of his oldest brother with that calm expression, only a gentle frown and the focused calmness of his eyes had Hector's insides twisting.

This was Isaiah's crisis face, the one when he was being attacked. When something was hurting. As if Hector's state could do that to him.

His breath hitched and he retched right there in bed. Isaiah grabbed the bowl near his leg with lightning speed, lifting Hector up into a sitting position.

Hector struggled over the bowl, stomach muscles spasming and burning with the exertion, but only a dribble of foamy bile came up.

"There, there. I know this sucks, but you are going to be okay," Isaiah said, patting his back gently while he put the bowl away again.

Hector wanted to laugh at the tone, the expression, the fussing. The exhaustion and nausea morphed into an intense, unexplainable stabbing in his gut. It came from deeper than his stomach, like it was stringing a cord all the way from his core. It caused an entirely different reaction than he expected.

He burst into tears.

Folding over himself, he was sobbing over his lap. He was just so tired of it all. He wasn't sure why he was sobbing, the pressure in his temples increasing all the more. His pulse quicked, his body protesting and struggling to give the last drops of liquid left to the few tiny tears that burned his eyes.

"Oh god, Hex, are you crying?" Isaiah pulled him into his lap, arms encircling him immediately. "You feel really rough, huh?"

"S-sorry, I'm sorry," he hiccuped, whole jest jostling with the force.

"Shhh, it's okay. You can cry all you want, it's fine. It's just me." Isaiah pressed him against his stomach, hand carding through the sweaty mess of his curly hair.

And Hector just gave in to the feeling. Being held like this, falling apart this thoroughly...he was shaking and tired and hurting and Isaiah was right there, where he needed him. He wrapped his hands around Isaiah like he wanted to physically stop him from ever moving again.

When the shaking sobs brought up a couple of burps, Isaiah didn't even flinch, just held him tighter. Hector was basically drooling in his lap, but the other wolf said nothing, cold fingers sliding to his cheek, his neck, shushing him like a child.

"Okay. We are okay. I'm right here. Everything will be alright," Isaiah chanted quietly in his ears, rocking back and forth. And Hector let go, losing himself in the reassurance.

[vasito-de-leche]

Hiya! I saw that requests were open, and I wanted to ask if you could do literally anything for Vertin and a reader who's romantic. I'd prefer if the reader was not involved with St. Pavlov in any way and actively avoids/makes it known they hate the Foundation, but I'd love anything that has to do with just Vertin tbh.

Anyway that's all, have a good day/night!

;R1999 VERTIN - "this life and the next"

Vertin x Reader. 1.1k words. hurt/comfort It's the end of an era and you have to say goodbye to the love of your life. But Vertin isn't ready to let go of you yet - she'll always find you in this life and the next.

I went for a little oneshot for this one and tried to do the opposite of my usual stuff to focus on the reader's POV for once lolol. still kept things pretty vague (hopefully) so this can be read as an arcanist/human reader!

ty for the request nonnie! not sure if the romantic part came across because, well. MY HAND SLIPPED WHEN WRITING THIS AND I GOT A BIT CARRIED AWAY. HOPE YOU LIKE IT ANYWAY!

Her hand slides into yours.

Vertin's skin is cold, it always has been, but her grip is firm and steady whenever she holds you. There is an unwavering confidence in her movements that sweeps you off your feet, like this is simply how things were meant to be.

Like the whole universe was meant for you and her, and nothing else.

You know of her role and title - the Timekeeper - and just the thought alone makes your chest ache. You know the things they expect of her, back in that awful institution of self-righteous bureaucrats, and your free hand curls up into a fist. You know of her safe haven, a pocket dimension in that suitcase she carries everywhere, but what good is it for when she's still trapped in a gilded cage?

This is an unspoken truth, one no one dares to mention in her presence - all the people she's saved throughout the eras, they know that their freedom and their future comes at the cost of hers. You know this, and so does she.

Above all, you know her.

She's Vertin, your precious, little dove. She's cold and she's the warmest person you ever met. She's hard to read and every little detail about her betrays that stoic nature. She will never stop trying to do the right thing, even when dealt the worst possible hand. You love her for it.

And you love that, at the end of the world, she's chosen to be here with you.

The timer on her forearm continues ticking down, but you don't care what the bold orange numbers say because the moment they reach zero, your life will end. And you've chosen enjoy every single second you have left with her.

If life were a movie, this would've been the perfect third act climax - a temporary goodbye between people who are destined to be together against all odds. There would be a fade to black, and the next scene would show you and Vertin, older and happier than ever, unbothered by the problems of a distant past.

Vertin calls out your name, bringing you back to the current present - your chest feels lighter than ever even as the rain begins to pour.

"I'm sorry. We only have about-"

"Hush, hush. I don't want to hear about that right now." You're quick to silence her with a gentle finger atop her lips. It's your turn to ease her worries, after all the burdens she's chosen to carry. "I want to hear what you think about the future."

There's a moment of silence, she's considering your words very carefully. You don't need to be a genius to know that she's dying to ask you to join her. You could brave the storm with her and everyone else if you try hard enough - but you're not willing to become another pawn for the Foundation. You can't do that to yourself, you've seen the way they treated Vertin, Sonetto, Matilda - everyone else. You've seen what Manus Vindictae do to their people.

"...Right now?" You nod at this, it's only fair after she's asked pretty much everyone she knows. You want to hear it, the hopes she holds in her heart. Vertin takes a deep breath. "You want to know what I think of the future, what I want in it. Correct?"

Somehow, the intensity of her voice makes your heart skip a beat. Like she's made up her mind about something important.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see it - water moving up, rain being reversed - but you keep your focus on Vertin and nod once again.

She pulls you into her arms, a hand in the back of your neck and the other one wrapped around your waist. In this position, with your face nestled in her neck, all you can see is the rise and fall of her chest in the little space left between your bodies.

Your face is flushed with both love and embarrassment - even now, Vertin is trying to protect you from seeing the chaos that surrounds you. You want to speak, to tease her for being such a reliable knight in shining armor, tell her that she can't keep making you fall in love with her, that you're meant to be the hopeless romantic - but she beats you to it.

"I want to see the future you told me about. One without pain, where everything is just one never-ending fairytale. I want a gallant, white horse to ride with you into the sunset. All those cheesy things that you love, I want all of them."

Her hold on you tightens. There is a constant, loud booming sound, like a dying star, that makes your ears hurt but Vertin's voice rises above it. Your grip on her is just as desperate.

"And I don't want to say goodbye to anyone ever again."

It's the end of an era, you can feel yourself dissipating, being pulled apart from inside out by time itself. The tears flowing from your eyes fly upwards instead, and you only let out a choked laugh when you pull away from Vertin, just enough to see her face. She's crying just like you.

"You're so mean, even now you're calling me cheesy and making fun of me." Your voice breaks when you say this, but you still manage to keep a light-hearted tone. "Hey, Vertin?"

There's a glimmer of hope in her eyes, like she's waiting for you to say yes, to dive head-first into her suitcase and forget about this bitter moment.

"Do you think we get our happy ever after in another universe? That we'll find each other, no matter what?"

Just as you stop feeling your feet, your legs, your arms - Vertin leans forward, her forehead against yours. You hate hearing her so vulnerable and broken like this, but you still commit every detail of her face and her voice to memory.

"Yes. Yes, no matter what it takes, I'll always find you."

"Promise?"

Those are the last words you utter before the universe rips you apart and the world fades to black.

You jolt awake, feeling a suffocating pressure in your chest. It's hard to breathe, even more so now that you realize you're crying. Something shifts to your left, the sound of blankets rustling about - the sudden movement makes you flinch, still dazed in your fear.

A cold hand slips off from yours. Someone yawns and whispers your name in the faint light of dawn.

"...Deep breaths, okay? Make sure to breathe with me." Her words are rehearsed, calm. You breathe in and out as she instructs. Once you calm down, the woman next to you sits up and rests her head on your shoulder. Her long, silver locks tickle against your skin.

"Feeling better, love?"

Almost on instinct, your hand reaches out for hers, now tracing circles on her bare forearm. No more "Storms", no more orange numbers, no more goodbyes.

"Yeah, it was just a... dumb nightmare. Thanks for the help."

This is your happy ever after. You turn just enough to kiss the top of her head and smile into her hair when she yawns again. That one is contagious, you yawn as well, feeling much more relaxed.

"Mhm...Oh, your breath smells like the leftovers we ate for dinner."

"Vertin! Way to ruin the moment!"