#i haven’t even fully recovered from that yet

[thelightsandtheroses]

one: florida!!!!

Call It What You Want | Frankie Morales x OFC

Summary: Daisy never expected to move to Florida but recovering from burnout in the sunshine state seems a good enough plan. Years after the death of her estranged half-brother, Tom, she finds herself agreeing to move in with Frankie Morales, Tom’s former army colleague and friend. Falling for her roommate, who is definitely keeping secrets about your brother’s death, may not be the best way to ensure a fresh start, or is it actually what they both needed all along? Chapter Warnings: 18+ blog MDNI, mentions of previous canon death and grief, references to corporate burnout Word Count: 3.7k Notes: Please note I am not from Florida, or even the US, so there’s a degree of creative license here, What I know about firefighting probably comes from 9-1-1, other firefighter shows, or google so please don’t think this is gong to be an accurate depiction of the Florida FD for Frankie. It’s fic, babes, let’s let me be a little self-indulgent. This is a rewrite of my first fic which felt too fast, too angsty and not the story I wanted to tell for a concept I really loved. It’s seen some considerable changes since then while retaining several themes, but I am so excited to share this and particularly this version of Frankie who has been rotting my brain for months and months 🔥 🔥🫠

Series Masterlist | Next. | A03

Palm trees, beaches and viral memes. That’s what I’ve always associated with Florida. It never struck me as a potential place I would make my home. I thought I might vacation there one day perhaps; some time in a distant future when I had a real grown-up life and family and we would go to the theme parks, buy overpriced merchandise and fried food and take cheesy photos before flying or driving home.

It’s funny how things work out though, isn’t it?

I pull into the apartment block with trepidation.

This is the fourteenth apartment I’ve viewed this week. Fourteen. I thought the market back in Chicago was bad but this is a whole new hellscape, or maybe it was easier because I knew more people back then. College roommates turn into post-college roommates and your circle is fully formed. It means you have people when you need to find a new place, there’s a whisper network, friends of friends.

I don’t have that anymore.

I want it though. I miss it.

I think I miss it.

The advert says that this listing is for a single room and the apartment is occupied by a group of young professional women. It’s the best option I’ve come across yet in my browsing of online postings which has taken me through several levels of Dante’s inferno. Facebook is just one above Craigslist in the hierarchy of the internet hellscapes I’ve seen recently.  One guy asked for my shoe size and asked if I routinely wore high heels before I could view the apartment. Safe to say, that one went off the list extremely quickly. It was a shame though - that listing had a double room and balcony, but I think I can see why it’s been listed for over sixty days now.

I haven’t had a roommate since college and this whole process has been a soul-crushing exercise on my already fragile self esteem. I don’t think I can take much more of this.

I take a deep breath. I’ve got this. I will find a room so I can move out of Molly’s and do something, anything with my life. Anything that’s not just existing in this strange purgatory I’ve found myself in. I’m potentially placing too much importance on the apartment here, but it’s a symbol, an omen.

It’s a fresh start. A signal to the universe that I’m here, that I’m doing something.

I feel like everything else I’m hoping and dreaming of can’t even start unless I have an apartment, and I can’t afford my own apartment and start a business so I need to find a roommate.

Maybe this is finally the one.

“It was so bad, Benny,” I say, taking a glug of lukewarm beer. “It was like being in high school over again, but worse. Infinitely worse!”

“Worse?” Benny tilts his head as he asks the question, something that only heightens my association between him and golden retrievers.

“Yes, because I’m not sixteen with a promise it’ll get better when I ‘find my people’ in college. This sucks. What was I thinking? Clearly I wasn’t. Maybe I should have stayed …” I trail off awkwardly.

“You were thinking that Florida is the perfect place to start over, which it is, Daisy,” he replies confidently.

Benny and his brother, Will, have played a considerable part in my move here. They served with my half-brother Tom.

Tom died more than five years ago - I don’t really know much about how it happened, Tom and I weren’t particularly close. There was an age difference, I sometimes felt he didn’t want me as a sister. I was only a reminder of his own parents’ relationship breakdown after all. I wish I could say we had that sibling bond but we didn’t. It’s clear to me his real siblings were the men in his team - he was their brother.

After his death though, Will kept in touch with me. I wondered if he thought he needed to fill a gap from Tom, if there was a sense of responsibility there. Tom never called me though except for birthdays and Christmas. I haven’t told Will that though.

It’s been nice feeling like I have a big brother. The irony isn’t lost on me that I feel this the most once my actual big brother is dead.

Will encouraged me to move down here, as did Molly, Tom’s ex-wife. They said I needed a fresh start and maybe they’re right.

I can’t remember the last time I felt like me. I’m not even sure what that feels like now, who I’m supposed to be and who I am really.

Florida seems a good place for reinvention though, for something new. I’m closer to the beach, to weekends spent with my toes scrunched in the sand as I sip coffee and read books. Days spent with Benny and Will

“Hey Benny,” A voice calls as I hear the front door open.

“We’re in here.“

“You remember Frankie, right?” Benny asks casually. “Tom woulda called him Catfish?”

“Uh, sure.” I don’t but I won’t admit to that. I remember the name vaguely, but that’s all. Tom wasn’t big on the details of his life with me.

“You probably saw him at the wake last,” Benny adds.

Even if it hadn’t been four years ago since I last saw him, all I can remember of Tom’s funeral is a procession of strangers and the continual vibration of my work phone as I stood in a strange graveyard. That whole day was a stark reminder of the distance between us, that my own blood was a ghost to me even when he was alive. It bought me Molly, Tess and Will though.

Frankie walks in. He’s a little older than Benny but younger than Tom was. He’s all dark eyes and curls peeking out through a battered baseball cap; softly tanned skin and that smile … that smile is something. If he could bottle that up and sell it, I’m pretty sure he’d find a captive market.

“Frankie, you remember Daisy, right? She’s moved here,” Benny says. “She’s starting a coffee van.”

“Uh - yeah.” Frankie has no clue who I am, but his efforts to conceal that are admirable. “Now you mention it, Will might have said something about that. You’re uh, staying with Molly for now, right? You were in Boston before?” I nod, wondering what Will has exactly said to Frankie about my move. “A coffee van?”

“Eventually,” I add nervously, “It’s a whole process. So, I’m actually just temping for now while I get things sorted.” I have no idea why I’ve told him that, why I still want to introduce myself based on my career, on my outward accomplishments. I’m almost surprised I haven't tried to find an old business card in my pocket or referred him to my LinkedIn profile where it neatly lists all my employable skills and experience.

 Daisy is highly skilled in project management, board engagement, data analysis  and most of all completely falling apart all of the time, but she makes a mean slide deck. Plus, guess what, she’s open to work!

“Oh, right, cool.”

“Frankie works for the fire department. He’s a firefighter pilot now,” Benny says. “Out here making me look bad.”

“Aw, I keep telling you don’t need my job to do that, Benny.”

Benny laughs heartily and throws a cushion at Frankie who catches it with ease and a raised eyebrow.

“Well, that’s definitely cooler than paperwork and admin.”

“Not really,” Frankie says, “I mean, it’s not really cool if you know what I mean.”

“Oh,” you say with a groan, “that might be the most dad joke I’ve heard.”

“It’s a classic though,” he replies lightly. “You got a soda, Benny?”

“Fridge. Wait, I just had a brilliant idea,” Benny suddenly interjects with a grin. “I mean, I’m a genius.”

“Oh yeah?” Frankie asks, one eyebrow quirking up. “About soda?”

“No, no, no. You need a roommate, right?”

“Yes?” Frankie replies slowly with the seasoned reluctance of someone who knows exactly what Benny’s brilliant ideas usually result in.

“Daze needs a room, you need a solid roommate, voila!” Benny makes a complicated hand gesture and smiles widely.

It seems too simple, too obvious but despite the terrible apartment earlier, my heart races as I wonder what if Benny’s onto something.

“Benny, I’m sure Daisy would -”

“How soon is it available?” I ask.

“Uh, immediately. My last roommate moved in with his boyfriend, which is great for him, but I’ve been struggling to find anyone suitable for it since then.”

“Suitable?” Immediately flashbacks of the weird Craigslist ads come back to me, please don’t say Frankie is going to say something odd. “What do you mean, suitable?” I really hope Frankie isn’t actually the weird shoe size guy from Craigslist.

“I have a kid who stays with me regularly. I need someone I can trust, someone safe to be around him, and someone who’s not going to be a …”

“Frankie wanted to mandate a background check,” Benny interrupts, before raising his hands at Frankie’s expression. “I said I got it! Perhaps, if you interrogated people less though ….”

“I’m not gonna apologise for prioritising my kid.”

“So, do I need a background check to apply then?”

“Nah,” Benny says, “you’re Tom’s sister, right Frankie?”

There’s a comforting weight to his words. The conviction in his voice, the simple answer that takes it for granted that maybe I’m not one of them, but I’m adjacent at least. It feels unfamiliar. I’ve never been Tom’s sister, not to Tom at least.

I feel as though I’m wearing someone else’s skin, another identity, and it’s alien but comforting. It’s an identity I never knew I could wear. One I never even knew was an option.

“You’re actually considering this then?” Frankie asks, eyebrows raised.

“Well, yeah. Benny’s heard all about my nightmare of an apartment hunt so far… unless, I mean. If you don’t want to then that’s fine.”

“Alright Tom’s sister,” Frankie begins with a soft smile.

“Daisy.”

“Daisy. “I’ll send you the info. let me know whether you’re still interested then. No pressure.” His voice is honey smooth, low and there’s something else.

His eyes.

They’re kind. Soulful even.

“I’m interested,” I say without thinking. “I’m definitely interested.”

Of course life isn’t as simple as just being interested in the apartment and one magically falling into my hands. Frankie texts me the information which is sadly towards the top end of my truly pitiful budget but includes a double room, furnishings and the apartment has a balcony which in itself is a big reason enough to say yes. I instantly conjure up a romantic image of me sipping from a steaming mug of coffee in the mornings, watching the sunrise.

It’s farcical. I hate the sunrise, or at least being up at that time. I’m not a morning person at the best of times. 

Frankie says there’s a beach view from the balcony though … if you squint, lean one arm and twist at a very precise angle. It’s something he has advised he doesn’t recommend without exceptional health insurance though so that’s definitely off the table for now. He mentioned it’s close enough that the landlord said it was a coastal view but it’s clearly not really.

Texting him feels so easy - there’s a lightness to the conversation, even as we talk about something as serious as becoming roommates. It’s why I’ve agreed to this - the next step and the one that is now filling me with dread.

The coffee shop we decided to meet at is halfway between his place and Molly’s. I haven’t been here before but I mentally take notes of the roast, of the general ambience. The brownies look amazing - the perfect combination of a fudgy middles and the solid crackly top that immediately calls to me.

It’s a neutral space though, one where we can finally make a decision of am I becoming Frankie’s roommate or not.

I think I want to.

I really can’t take another week of Craigslist -especially after watching that true crime documentary last night.

I twist the empty sugar packet into a knot, only looking up as the doorbell chimes. I see Frankie immediately.

He’s wearing a baseball cap, dark hair curling out from underneath and the Florida FD hoodie he’s wearing looks particularly well worn, comfortable. I can almost imagine how it smells.

No. No. This is a roommate negotiation.

“Hey,” Frankie says as I stand up to greet him. I immediately panic - is this a hug situation, that feels too familiar, but a handshake feels like an awkward callback to my corporate days. I have no idea what I’m supposed to do.

“Oh, you already ordered?” Frankie asks.

“Yeah, sorry, I got here a bit early. Overestimated the traffic. I haven’t been here long.” Frankie looks at my almost empty mug of coffee, cocking one eyebrow.

“No worries. Do you mind if I grab a drink though? Want another?”

“Oh no, I’m good, thanks.”

“Okay.”

He walks over to the counter and I sit down and watch him carefully. This is a test really, an opportunity to try and work out his personality further. Does he talk to the barista? Is he cold or insufferable? Is he rude? These are all qualities I should be able quickly establish in just a few moments. Mum always taught me to notice these things on a date, to tease out those basics in the early days. Not that it’s foolproof. Not always at least.

Frankie seems. pleasant though, laughing with the barista but there’s almost a shyness about him. I don’t get it. From how Benny described him - a pilot, a firefighter pilot no less, I would have expected him to be as extroverted as Benny.

Frankie’s a surprise though. There’s a quietness to him, a slow and careful evaluation in each glance, in how he takes in the cafe around us as he sits opposite me. He’s assessing everything too and it occurs to me that as much as I’ve set this meeting up to work out if I can live with him, he’s doing the exact same thing.

The people pleaser in me instantly calls to attention, ready to perform and be perfect, be liked. To succeed. Automatically I straighten my posture, try and remember my very best table manners. I prepare to perform.

“What’s your poison?” I ask, which is a phrase I never use and an immediate sign I need to shift out of performance mode.

“Just an Americano.”

“Oh.”

“You don’t approve?”

“no, I guess it’s fine. I mean, I would personally recommend a pour-over and filter coffee than a watered down espresso. Something like a V60 or a -”

“I see what Benny meant about the coffee truck.”

“I’m not judging!”

He raises an eyebrow.

“Okay, only judging a tiny bit. Mostly I’m rambling. I’m just - I’ve never got the watered down espresso thing.”

“It’s got two extra shots in if that helps,” he confides with a smirk, “I was on shift yesterday.”

“Oh, we could have arranged this for later -”

“It’s fine. The shift wasn’t too bad, even got a few hours sleep!” Frankie empties sugar into his coffee and smiles up at me.

“How did you end up in the FD then? I don’t – I don’t remember it from before.”

Frankie pauses, twisting the empty sugar packet in his hands. The silence holds just long enough I worry I need to change the conversation before he speaks. “A couple of years ago I needed a change. It’s been good, much better than commercial helicopter flights for rich people.”

“Making a difference?”

“Trying to.” A ghost passes over his eyes. I immediately realise the link - Tom. His death. Was that the trigger for Frankie joining the fire department?

“Anyway, the apartment -” Frankie starts, reaching for his phone, “I took some new photos this morning.”

His wallpaper is him with a small boy. His son. I take in the wide toothy smile on his photo, the bright shine in his eyes and the same features I can see in Frankie, accompanied by a head full of brown curls.

“Felix,” Frankie says, a soft smile on his face.

“He looks like you.”

“Poor kid.”

“No, I mean - uh, how old is he?”

“Four and a half. He stays with me on alternate weekends, if I’m off shift, and sometimes in the week if his mom’s working late or something. A lot of it depends on my work patterns but that’s the general rule of thumb.” He wrings his hands together and I wonder what the story is there.

I have limited experience with children to say the least.

I’ve reached that point where half of my friends are parents, sharing photo after photo on their social media and speaking a whole new language. In contrast, the rest of my friends appear still mentally stuck in their early twenties party mindset. I’ve never been sure where I fit in with that; I’m definitely not a huge partier, but that sort of responsibility and commitment has filled me with anxiety. Maybe it’s my choice in friendships, in love.

I try not to think about it too much, the friendships left to dust over, the dates I was too scared to go on. I threw myself into my work instead because it felt safer somehow. I defined myself by my career and made that the only metric that matter.  I poured all of myself into the corporate world for all those years and it turns out I was naive. So naive. I actually thought they cared about me.

It’s hilarious in hindsight. Now I’m in Florida without even a leaving card to commend the efforts I put in. I’m a barely remembered spectre in the place I once thought I was indispensable in. A shameful secret swept under the rug. A never repeated name.

I can’t go back to that world again.

“Are you okay?” Frankie asks, concern creasing his brow. Great, five minutes into talking about becoming roommates and he already clearly thinks I’m disturbed.

“I’m fine, sorry, must have drifted away for a second.”

“Happens to us all,” he says lightly. “So, is that a problem?” Frankie folds his arms and I get the clear sense that he’s annoyed, that I’ve missed an important cue somewhere.

“Is what a problem?” I ask.

“Felix staying at the apartment, because sorry but it’s a non-negotiable”

“No, not at all. No, I just … I drifted away, like I said.”

“Right.”

Great, this is the first apartment that feels reasonable, and Frankie seems like a nice person and I’m wrecking it. Somehow at best, I’m managing to come across as scatty and someone who doesn’t listen, and a child hater at worst.

I need to get out of Molly’s. I need to make Florida work for me.

“I do that sometimes,” I say quietly, “It doesn’t mean I’m not listening, or anything. It’s just … it’s just something that happens. I don’t have a problem at all with Felix or …. it’s your home, Frankie.”

He pauses. “If you take the room, it’s yours too though.”

“And I get why you’re being careful about who takes the room because of that. Look, I can’t promise I won’t secretly judge your coffee choices, or leave coffee grounds everywhere, or watch really terrible TV from time to time, but I …”

“You don’t have to explain. I get it.”

“You do?”

“I do.” Frankie smiles. “So, you’re still interested in the room then? You really wanna do this? I thought Benny might be putting you up to this and I won’t be offended if you don’t want to live with some random guy.”

“Benny keeps reminding me you’re not though, are you?”

Frankie shrugs and looks away, something flashing over his eyes briefly that feels a little haunted.

Since moving back to Florida, I’ve realised that, at least for Benny and Will, Tom’s death is still an open wound even now. It makes me feel worse sometimes because Will was so kind to me after the funeral, so keen to ensure I knew they’d be there if I needed them, that I could rely on them in Tom’s absence and I didn’t know how to say I’d never been able to rely on Tom. My brother spent his life a half-stranger to me and I feel like a fraud pretending we were real siblings.  In five and a half years, the Millers and my brother’s ex-wife have been more of a family to me than Tom ever was.

“It’s okay,” Frankie says, “I’m sure you’ve got far better roommate options.”

“I actually really don’t. One guy asked for foot pics, and these women kind of judged me because I wasn’t corporate enough anymore, so I don’t have a wealth of better options.”

Frankie frowns slightly.

“It’s a brutal market. And your place looks… nice and you seem like you wouldn’t ask for -”

“Some guy really asked for that?”

“I blocked him, it’s fine. It’s the internet, Frankie.”

“Sometimes I fucking hate that thing.”

“Yeah, but I like being able to shop in my pyjamas.”

Frankie laughs. “Okay, fair point. So, Daisy, do you want the room? ‘Cause if you do, it’s yours.”

My heart races. The room is mine? It’s not just that I’ll be escaping from feeling like a perennial thorn in Molly’s life, but it’s a beginning. Finally I have the chance to make something here, to be Daisy 2.0 and leave the corporate burnt out husk of my old self in the rearview mirror.

“You don’t have some weird neighbour who plays the bagpipes at 3am?”

“No, I don’t have one of those. It’s a normal building.”

“Good, just wanted to check. Okay then, yeah, I think I do. Want the room that is.”

“Great. I’ll get the agreement emailed over to you and we’ll go from there.”

“This is going to be good”

“Yeah, yeah it is.”

I think this might be the handshake part.

Tag List

If you would like to be added to to my overall taglist please let me know - I am no longer creating individual fic taglists though. As a reminder this blog is 18+ - minors do not interact and I block blank/ageless blogs. Tag lists are a bit funky at the moment, so I recommend following me or my fic account @thelightsandtheroses-fics (you can enable notifications for that account) if you want to ensure you're up to date

Everything Pedro tag-list: @harriedandharassed @pedrostories @hiroikegawa @pedrosaidsheispunk @pastelnap

[danielnelsen]

ughh i’ve got about half a day to figure out how to keep working on my current project without a computer fml

[happyhauntt]

— march fic recs, brought to you by happyhauntt.

a wee fic rec post for a few of the fics i read in march that altered my brain chemistry!! i've put a lil comment next to each rec because honestly writers don't get praised enough for their work these days and i wanted to show my appreciation for these talented souls!!

grishaverse.

➡ kaz brekker.

what do you want from me by @rubysunnday. notes: literally perfect wtf.

dark days by rubysunnday. notes: i reread this literally constantly, it is so perfect, kaz's characterisation is perfect, i adore it.

bloody hands by rubysunnday. notes: i devoured this whole thing like a starving person it was sO good.

when am i gonna lose you? by @crowsmybeloveds. notes: this is so beautiful honestly i have no words.

the lost princess by @ellewritesalright. notes: look it's only part one but elle is a fucking wizard and i'm a sucker for an anastasia au.

you and me (a whole lot of history) by @heliads. notes: this was so cute and such a clever concept i fell in love!!!

schat by @amourology. notes: fully choked this is so adorable.

soulmate by @magpiencrow. notes: KAZ BREKKER SOULMATE AU didn't know i needed this but now i need 100 more!!!!

➡ nikolai lantsov.

nine long years series by @ellewritesalright. notes: i am actively fucking screaming over this fic. i will never stop. this might genuinely be the best thing i've read in a LONG while. everything about it has me sobbing i actively CANNOT COPE. and it's not even finished yet.

one of us by @songofpatrochilless. notes: literally had me sobbing you don't understand the domesticity of it all!!!!!.

come on back to me by @atlabeth. notes: there is a very strong chance that i'll literally never stop screaming about this fic.

dreams of you by @wh0refornikolailantsov. notes: every cell in my body is SCREAMING.

this love by @lantsovsupremacist. notes: did not, in fact, give you permission to hurt me like this do it again.

salt in the wound by @in-my-feels-probably. notes: brain goes brrrr this has everything i need to survive tbh.

wanting was enough by @rubysunnday. notes: beautiful stunning magnificent i want to eat it.

an exhausted smile by @writing-havoc. notes: think i had an aneurysm reading this it was that amazing.

run away with me by @sumsebien. notes: i am still sobbing over this.

in emerald hearts, emerald minds by @undiscovered-horizon. notes: love love love love love. there aren't enough words in any language to describe how much i love this.

➡ alina starkov.

alina starkov x reader by @heliads. notes: alina does not get nearly enough love and this was so fucking sad and cute and brilliant.

➡ nina zenik.

the ten steps to 'i love you' by @sophierequests. notes: this was SO HEARTWARMING AND SWEET i adored it!!!

➡ zoya nazyalensky.

forget-me-nots by @syllvane. notes: not enough zoya fics on this hellsite. but also this ripped my heart out and made me sob so RUDE. i feel devastated.

➡ inej ghafa.

inej ghafa x reader by @heliads. notes: INEJ MY SWEET BABY, this fic is everything to me. everything. and it's so beautifully written!!!

➡ the darkling.

the dark side of the moon series by @myhairpintrigger. notes: this fic is ASTOUNDING. i haven’t cried this much reading something in a long time. i was FULL-BODY SOBBING. i don’t even like the darkling. i am Not a darkling girlie. but i was intrigued by concept of this fic and i can safely say it has ruined my life. this is Emotional Damage Incarnate. i will never recover. author, i salute you.

911.

through the smoke by @borntobewondering. notes: spent twenty whole minutes sobbing after reading this. i felt undone i felt hollow i felt so utterly fucked. author is a genius and that's all there is to say.

not so one night stand by @shmaptainwrites. notes: this was so fuckin adorable i'm in love.

d.c. to l.a. by shmaptainwrites. notes: bobby my guy just doesn't get enough fucking credit and this is so fucking adorable.

criminal minds.

➡ spencer reid.

trouble almost all my life by @januaryembrs. notes: this series is. it's literally. everything. i love bugsy like she's my own child. sister relationships are everything to me. i spent an hour sobbing in my bed over parts 2 and 3. i want this tattooed on my forehead.

➡ aaron hotchner.

found by @benedictscanvas. notes: DADDY i mean what. all jokes aside this was so sweet and beautiful and i'm in love the writing!!!

doctor who.

rage rage (against the dying of the light) by @morganas-pendragons. notes: felt feral after reading this. kayla just gets me in my feels every time.

heartbeat by morganas-pendragons. notes: this was the most emotional devastating thing i've ever read and i fully needed 3-5 business days to recover. rude. i want 100 more.

untitled by morganas-pendragons. notes: PAIN i love this so much.

ache by morganas-pendragons. notes: just scoop my heart out of my fucking chest i don't want it anymore after reading this.

a mind full of blissful terrors by @magiccath. notes: simply fucking amazing.

light in the dark by @i-imagine-my-doctor. notes: screaming please i adore this so much.

baby talk by @kisstherainwriting. notes: THE ABSOLUTE CUTIEST EVER. there's not enough clara fics and this had me squealing and feeling all warm and fuzzy!!!

holding my hand by kisstherainwriting. notes: angst galore this was STUNNING.

in another's eyes by @cas-kingdom. notes: PERFECTION.

where do we go now series by @theetherealbloom. notes: literally so fucking amazing i don't have enough words.

marauders.

the winner takes it all by @ellecdc. notes: brb faye is having a STROKE--

come back, be here series by ellecdc. notes: i think i had a full on stroke while reading this series. the attention to detail is insane. the characterisation is perfect.

i don't know you anymore (maybe i never really did) by @thenyoumightaswellwrestleangels. notes: SCREECHING i'm in love you don't understand.

bridgerton.

➡ anthony bridgerton.

distractions by @peterpparkrr. notes: simply immaculate.

right person, all the wrong times by @wwinterwitch. notes: did you mean one of my favourite tropes bc this is it.

right in front of me by @idontgiveaflyinggrayson69 & @thirteenisles. notes: i felt feral after reading this tbh.

➡ sibling!reader.

reluctant caretaker by @rubysunnday. notes: this fic hit my heart in all the right places okay sibling stuff means everything to me.

did she have a cookie by rubysunnday. notes: a joyous read from start to finish i CACKLED the whole way through.

moon knight.

come back to me by @mgparker. notes: still sobbing. immaculate.

the other sarcophagus by @starryevermore. notes: i literally reread this constantly i adore it so much!!

marc spector x reader by @softlyspector. notes: i had an aneurysm reading this and i haven't been the same since.

more marc spector x reader by softlyspector. notes: i am having an intense emotion hold on. anytime i see autistic stuff in canon content for any fandom i SQUEAK. and this is so well done honestly.

star wars.

heartless by @youvebeenlivingfictional. notes: i reread this constantly, it's so amazing and heartwrenching and beautiful and i want to eat it.

little talks by @light-yaers. notes: you simply do not understand how much i adore everything beff writes. i adore this fic more than i need oxygen to breathe.

right where you left me series by light-yaers. notes: personality-defining series. i LIVE for this fic. every update adds five years to my lifespan. if you're not reading this you are MISSING OUT.

a light, a song, a bluebird by @millllenniawrites. notes: made me SOB 10/10 would recommend if you like emotional trauma.

invisible string by @campingwiththecharmings. notes: pining!!! loneliness!!! i adore!!!

hard landings by @softlyspector. notes: no. no you don't understand. this fic doesn't just own my soul it is my soul. i want it tattooed on my face.

misc.

hopper x reader by @luveline. notes: you don't understand this might be the cutest shit i've ever read and jade is a fellow welsh person which automatically makes them brilliant in my book.

muña by @in-my-feels-probably. notes: alicent means fucking everything to me and this had me sobbing.

mistletoe magic by @writingsbychlo. notes: literally the cutest fucking thing ever, had me kicking my legs and squealing!!

[nyx-express]

Pink.

Info: This is part of a drabble series I'm starting, about colours and their associations with emotions. This one's happier and hornier then the last one, yay.

Pairing: Spawn!Astarion x fem!Tav (unnamed)

Summary: Their first time post endgame, when they had decided to take it slow for Astarion's sake.

Warnings: 18+, smut, oral, fingering, a bit of dirty talk, PiV, some happy tears and blood (only a drop). It's porn with a tiny bit of plot and LOTS of feelings. This isn't kinky at all, they're not fucking, they're making love. It's romantic, it's vanilla, it's what we all deserve every once in a while.

Word count: 4k

Spawn!Astarion x fem!Tav/reader - Pink [associations: love and romance, peace & nurture, warmth & euphoria]

It was a quiet, clear night, dim lights dancing around the crackling wood in the fireplace in Tav and Astarion’s bed chamber inside the Wyrm’s Rock Fortress. After defeating the Brain, Wyll had taken over as Grand Duke of Baldur’s Gate, offering guest rooms to anyone in the party who wished to stay in the city. Indefinitely if necessary, he had said, which was a relief since the two hadn’t yet decided when or where to join the army of spawns in the Underdark that had been unleashed after Cazador’s defeat. Seven weeks had passed since they’d saved the city. And they had gone over quickly, as everyone was still either recovering or helping to rebuild all that’s been broken under the Abolute’s attempt for tyranny. 

Astarion lay in their mahogany bed, reading something he believed only Gale would truly enjoy - some Netherese crap about the Weave and whatnot. He could get used to this though; residing like royalty in a castle and being treated as one of the city's heroes. The guest rooms were clearly built to accommodate noblemen, furnished with care and a certain touch of arrogance, much to his liking. Glancing up from his book, his view followed his lover when she made her way across the room, dressed in a dark nightgown and her hair damp. Putting the dusty tome aside, he stretched out an arm to grab her attention and said, “Come here, my love?”

She answered with a smile, taking his hand and sat down next to him. “Missing me already?”

“Terribly,” he jested, fingertips brushing across her knuckles. “The nerve of you leaving me alone here in Ravengard’s chamber of horrors.”

“This chamber of horrors just provided me with yet another free bath, for your information,” she replied, holding his gaze. “Are you hungry? You haven’t fed in a while.”

“Positively ravenous,” he said, fangs poking out of his sly grin as he pulled her into bed. 

“I see.” She held back a laugh. So that’s where the dramatics came from.

Holding her close, Astarion’s head went where it belonged, to the crook of her neck, his favourite spot, where he could smell her blood flowing even through her skin. But there was something else, a new scent drifting to him from her hair. Lavender? Hells, Wyrm’s Rock truly wasn’t half bad. Just as he inhaled again, she turned at an angle to offer her neck to him fully. He grinned to himself. Always so eager to please. 

She closed her eyes, bracing herself for the icy caress Astarion would pull her in. His fangs pricking her skin only ever hurt for a mere moment before a pleasant coldness spread through her body, sucking the energy from her like a proper hike would. She didn’t mind the blood loss and was happy to provide him with what he had told her was the finest red he’d ever tasted. Any moment now, his fangs would penetrate and make way for him to feed on her. When his lips finally touched her though, his canines remained absent. A kiss, gentle and soft, was pressed to her neck. Then another. The sensation wasn’t unknown but still unexpected. Instead of turning cold, an immediate warmth spread from where his lips lingered, up to her cheeks and down, all the way to her core. The kisses kept coming, wandering up to her jaw, then back down towards her chest, his hands still holding tightly onto her waist. She released a sudden, hot breath, unsure of what this meant. 

Astarion and Tav hadn’t slept with each other since the party at the Druid’s Grove, having decided that it was for the best to take it slow. He had told her that he didn’t know what he wanted for himself in terms of sex, after two hundred years of having to lure in people for Cazador with his body. He only knew he wanted her, one way or another. And she had agreed, that he had to heal first, find himself and discover a worth unrelated to offering himself for other people’s pleasure. That he could be safe somewhere, with someone, without giving something in return. 

They still had been close since, held hands at any moment that allowed it, spent nights exchanging small kisses, or her favourite, holding his face while they talked and watching him look at her for what felt like hours.

But this, the way he planted kisses on her now, was completely different and reminded her of their night in the Grove. Though surprising, the affection wasn’t unwelcome. She’d lie if she said she hadn’t missed it. Her promise remained true, she would wait for him to be ready, no matter how long it took, even though her body longed so heavily for his touch from time to time. Still, she needed to be sure if she was reading the situation correctly.

“Astarion?” she asked, another gasp escaping her when he sucked on a tender spot, to which he immediately stopped.

His lips pulled away from her, a confident grin still on his face. "Yes, darling?" 

“Are you sure? If you want this, I mean.”

His hand went up to her neck, fingers placed behind her ear while his thumb traced her jawline. “Feeding from you? Oh, you know it’s my favourite pastime.” 

“Not the feeding. The kissing.”

His expression didn’t change, but his eyes retracted as if he was suddenly shy, roaming over the sheets next to them. “I didn’t mean to… I just felt like it. If you don’t want me to-”

“No, no,” she interrupted as she put her hand upon his. “I like it. I really do. I just want you to know that we don’t have to… go all the way through with it. We can stop at any time, alright?”

His eyes met hers again. “Darling, I tend to finish what I’ve started.” He neared her face with his, staring at her lips. “But thank you. For saying that.” 

Crashing his mouth against hers, he kissed her deeply, his hand on her neck pulling her even closer. His lips like velvet brushed against hers so smoothly, leaving hers agape. He let himself fall back onto the mattress, pulling her with him so she could straddle his hips. 

Astarion smiled as he looked up at her. “I missed this, you know.”

“So did I,” she replied, voice hardly above a whisper before closing the gap between them once more. The kiss was more tender, some kind of promise woven within as their tongues met, until she felt him getting hard beneath her. It was his turn to gasp now, followed by a chuckle when he felt her rolling her hips against him. 

“I can tell,” he mumbled between kisses, his fingers playing with the strap of her robe and quickly untying the knot. Falling open, the robe granted him a view of her figure, delicious and relaxed, that made it impossible to keep his hands to himself. He reached between the fabric, hands running up her sides, thumbs softly touching the plump skin on the underside of her breasts. “You’re so beautiful, my love,” he whispered into the night without fully realising it, before pulling her close again. A searing kiss with her fingers raking through his hair followed as the robe slipped from her shoulders, now only attached to her at the sleeves around her underarms. 

She pulled them off, tossed the gown to the side, and unbuttoned his shirt in return. Astarion watched her nimble fingers work and decided to help by pulling it over his head, soon to join her gown on the floor. With nothing but his trousers between them, she felt his erection grow harder and ground against him once more, marking his trousers with a trail of her wetness. 

“Now, now,” he cautioned. “Leave some for me to taste you, will you?” He sat up, pressed a kiss to her burning lips and proceeded to turn her over, so she was on her back. Hovering above her, his eyes darkened ever so slightly, a hungry grin plastered across his face before he made his way down to her core.

Just thinking about it made her head spin, how he would touch her there, savour the essence between her legs. Not tonight though, she thought as her hand found his hair, tugging lightly on it when he was halfway down. Astarion looked at her, a question hanging between them.

“As much as I’d love you to do that, I want this to be about you. I want to make you feel good,” she said, holding his chin gently between her fingers.

Astarion blinked and closed his mouth, his eyes never leaving hers as he studied her for a moment. “Oh.”

“Is that okay?” she asked and he seemed to think of what to say. What he wanted.

“I suppose it is, yes,” he then said, the corner of his mouth pulling upwards, showing off a dimple. 

She sat up, repressing a smile and took his hand in hers. “Lie down, love. Make yourself comfortable.”

When he did and had nestled himself between the frilly cushions, Tav straddled him again, took his face into her hands and kissed him. Astarion grabbed the outside of her thighs this time, sliding up to the curve of her hip and then back to cup the cheeks of her ass. She smiled into the kiss, letting him touch her however he wanted before she pulled her head back and made her way down his body. 

Both her hands were on his thighs now, starting at his knees and slowly stroking upwards. When she reached his groin he released a shaky breath, looking at her intently. She began to undo his trousers, so he pushed his hips up, helping her to get rid of the pesky garment once and for all. Turning back to him, her hands went straight to the tent that had formed beneath his briefs, touching him through the last layer of fabric. Astarion’s breathing turned shallower when she pulled them off him too, leaving him bare before her. With his erection freed, she took in the sight of him, making sure to etch the image into her memories forever.

“I’m afraid I can’t find the words to describe how perfect you look for me,” she told him as she reached for his dick. Pumping it once, twice, and still watching him react to her touches, she asked, “Does that feel good for you?”

He nodded, eyes half-lidded as if her movements had him entranced. “It does, yes. More than good.”

Her thumb brushed over his tip, spreading the bead of precum that had accumulated before she bent down. With a flattened tongue, she licked a stripe from bottom to top, looking Astarion in the eyes to see his lids close, brows knitted and mouth agape, sucking in a hiss of approval. Pleased with his reaction, she pumped him again, then wrapped her lips around him, softly at first, and swirled her tongue around the top. Working her way down, she tried to take more of him each time, stroking her hand down the part that didn’t fit. Her tongue flattened when she bobbed down and twirled around the tip when she came back up, sucking in her cheeks and leaving Astarion a panting mess. 

Somehow, with his eyes still closed, his hands found their way into her hair and proceeded to guide her up and down on him at the pace he desired. She felt herself getting wetter then, having achieved just what she wanted - to be there for him, to serve him and to make this special night all about him and his needs. Moans filled the air when he approached his climax and she almost smiled with his dick in her mouth, still led up and down by his hands. His voice was like music to her ears, she could tell how close he was by the way his fingers gripped her scalp and the twitch in his hips, so she brought her free hand around his balls, cradling them with light touches, silently inviting him to let go.

“Oh fuck,” he breathed, his fingers twisting even tighter in her hair. “I, ah!” 

There it was, she thought, he was going to spill into her mouth any second. But then, right before he could, while cursing out a string of stressed moans, he pulled her off him. His chest was heaving, she realised, now that she could look at him again, a thin film of sweat spread across his forehead. “What’s wrong?”, she asked.

“Nothing, darling,” he said between deep breaths. “I just… It’s been a while, as you know, and I don’t want it to be over this quickly. I want this to last as long as I can possibly manage, which certainly will not be as long as I’d wish for it to be, judging by my current state. But there’s more I want to do with you. To you.”

He sat up and held her by the waist, meeting her with yet another kiss, tasting himself on her tongue as his erection pressed against her skin. Pushing her down by the shoulders, he made them switch positions, so he was on top again. 

“My turn,” he quipped, with a boyish smirk and began to kiss his way down her body. Hands on her chest, he squeezed her breasts tenderly, his mouth hovering over her left nipple.

“Wait,” she said, despite herself.

He stilled his movements, looking back at her. “Yes?”

"I wanted you to enjoy yourself fully tonight, you know," she began until his thumb circled her nipple, causing her eyes to shut close.

“Do I look like I’m not having fun?” he asked, resting his head down on her tit while he lazily massaged the other one.

“Oh, you do, believe me. But what I had in mind was more focused on you, not me. I’d rather please you than have you please me tonight.”

He chuckled to himself, eyes meeting hers again. “Darling, this is pleasing me. That’s exactly why I do it. For my pleasure. And yours of course. What I’m saying is, seeing you come undone by my hand, or tongue, or cock… is what I want most right now.”

She grinned and rolled her eyes at him, shaking her head with a laugh.

Astarion appeared serious in contrast, a pleading look on his features. “Please, let me do this.”

The laugh caught in her throat when she realised he truly meant it. He wanted to make her come for his pleasure. So she swallowed once and answered, “Okay then. Do as you wish.”

He let out a hum of approval as he began to suck on her nipple, his teeth scraping lightly across the surrounding skin. Tav’s breath hitched when he went for the other one, forcing her eyes to remain open. She needed to see every second of this.

He kissed a line down her stomach, his breath fanning into her navel when he settled between her legs. His expression was downright obscene as he kissed the tender skin on her inner thigh, eyes never leaving hers. His fangs had pricked the thin flesh, if intended or not, she didn’t know. A single droplet of blood gathered around the tiny wound, quickly wiped away by Astarion’s tongue. Another hum from him, his eyes flickering closed as he savoured the taste of her while his hands drew patterns and neared her core. 

She didn’t notice she was holding her breath when Astarion’s lips pressed a kiss to her pussy. 

“So wet, my darling,” he mused. “Just for me.” 

All she could do was nod between moans as he finally pressed his mouth against her and let his tongue dance over her clit. Her head snapped upwards, eyes on the ceiling above while he circled her, teased her and groaned deliciously into her skin. She pushed herself to look back down and watch him, his eyes already on her as he continued lapping and sucking at a torturous pace. Closing his eyes with what she interpreted as a grin, he brought a finger to her entrance, lightly pushing until it was inside of her. There was hardly any resistance, her body was so ready for him, welcoming all he had to give with ease. So he pushed and pulled a few times, then added a second finger while his tongue still worked its wonders on her. 

It felt like she was breathing fire, her lungs threatening to burst when he curled his fingers inside of her. Moans turned into screams and she instinctively threw her hands to his head, clutching his curls for dear life, pulling him even closer while this rogue bastard devoured her like a god. 

“I’m going to come,” she managed curtly, face already scrunched into a heavenly grimace. 

Astarion didn’t answer, focused on the task at hand and kept working her towards the finish line until everything inside her seemed to explode. Her entire body tensed, limbs convulsing as she screamed his name, surges of pleasure rippling through every muscle, every inch of her. Wave after mind-numbing wave crashed against her but he didn’t stop, didn’t break the contact between them and when she felt the orgasm begin to fade, Astarion sped up his movements, fingers and tongue ceaselessly striving to reach his goal a second time. He succeeded almost immediately. Just when she thought her breath would steady, when her twitching legs seemed to relax, another peak hit her, and this time it squeezed all the air out of her lungs. She couldn’t gasp or scream anymore, only endure as the glorious rush made her lose her mind. Tav pulled Astarion off her, gasping for air and fell back into the pillows, chest heaving with a dull smile on her face.

He towered over her, grinning wickedly at the state of her before wiping the back of his hand over his drenched mouth. “That was to your liking, I take it?”

She didn't answer, unable to find the strength yet, just waving her hand at him as she tried to come to her senses. Astarion laughed softly as he watched her chest move, the beads of sweat that had formed all over her body glistening in the light until she was capable of thinking again.

She got up in a daze, Astarion sitting upright on his knees in front of her, his hands resting on his lap, erection still visible. Tav crawled over to him, mirroring his position and kissed him at the same time as her fingers wrapped around his dick. He was still rock hard, breathing heavily into the kiss. “You nearly killed me, I’m afraid,” she whispered against the skin of his neck. “I’ll have to pay you back in kind.” His head fell back with a sigh as she pumped him faster, eager to give the man she loved so much the pleasure he had given her. 

She pulled his head back towards her, the need to watch him enjoy himself too strong. And he showed her everything, every twitch of an eyelid as she rolled her wrist around him, the way his mouth fell open when she squeezed him harder, or the deep line that formed between his eyebrows when he tensed. He moaned sharply and just when she thought he’d release, Astarion grabbed the hand that was working on him.

Tav stopped her movements, afraid she’d done something wrong or that he wasn’t ready, that it still might be too much for him. “Are you all right?”

He brought her hand towards his face and placed a kiss on the back of it. “Quite alright, my dear.”

“What’s the matter then?”

He eased her worries with a smile, pulling her closer by the waist. “I don’t want it to end like this tonight. I want something else. More.”

Anything, she’d do anything for him. “And what is it that you want?”

Shadows fell upon his eyelids as he bent his head down, still maintaining eye contact. “I want to fuck you.”

Her mouth fell open for a split second before she could nod. Too eager it seemed, as Astarion grinned at her reaction. “Lie down, darling.”

She followed his instructions and let him get on top before he pressed himself against her, supporting his weight with one arm. Another kiss, short and sweet, contradictory to the situation was placed on her lips as he lined himself up at her entrance. And when he pushed himself in, all the air seemed to leave her lungs once again. He did it slowly, watching her reactions closely, as he entered her inch by inch. They moaned in unison when he bottomed out, some wicked sense of relief, a feeling of wholeness, uniting them. He pulled back equally as slow, a need to prolong and savour this moment for as long as possible spreading in his chest. She reached for his face, holding onto each side delicately as he rocked back and forth, her mouth falling open when he hit a particular spot. 

“Do you want me to turn around for you?” she asked, her thumb caressing his earlobe.

“No,” he whispered. “I need to look at you right now.”

That somehow left her speechless and she returned to enjoying the feeling of him fucking her slowly as well as the sight he granted her with. He didn’t speed up his movements but ground into her harder after a while, unable to resist the temptation any longer, already panting from how turned on he was. His voice was quiet, barely audible to her, had she not paid such close attention. “I love you, I love you, I love you.” He sang it like a poem with every snap of his hips against hers. 

“I love you too,” she replied, pressing her fingers tighter against his neck in confirmation.

“No, you don’t understand,” he sighed, still moving in and out. “I Iove you.” 

Something wet landed on her chest, a warm droplet of some sort. A single tear, she quickly realised, that had fallen from Astarion’s eyes. She wiped away its trace on his cheek and pulled him close, kissing him deeply. She’d hold him like this until the end of time if he needed her to, would tell him how much he meant to her for hours on end if he only asked. “I love you, too,” she replied with certainty until their lips met yet again. Her tongue found his and she could still taste herself on him, mixed with the salty flavour of another tear, which must have been hers. 

When they pulled back and looked at each other, Astarion was still fucking her at a leisurely pace. He exhaled a laugh and said, “Sorry, this wasn’t supposed to happen. The crying and all.”

Tav smiled, wiping away her own tears. “It’s okay, I don’t mind a bit of sappiness every once in a while.”

“Enough of that, I say,” he answered and sped up his movements. She could feel him hitting even deeper now, more determined than before and as he turned her hips at an angle, she knew the coil in her belly was about to snap again. He held her feet to his chest, leaning over her like a magnificent predator as he thrust into her again and again. His other hand went to her clit, rubbing in quick circles, never slowing the rate at which he fucked her. 

Her vision blurred as the third orgasm hit her, eyes rolling back in her head as the pressure became unbearable and she could only scream his name. Astarion moaned at her convulsing around him, her pussy squeezing him even tighter in rhythmic throbs. He came with his head falling back, releasing his seed into her hot cunt with a few more hard thrusts. He fell on top of her then, muscles finally unwinding and his mind free of everything but her.

They stayed like that for a long while, sticky bodies pressed together, limbs tangled and Astarion’s dick still sheathed inside of her. There was no need to talk, they knew what the other one was thinking anyway, so they held each other until sleep pulled them from consciousness.

@bg3-fanfic-reblogs

[funlovinzara]

Sukuna x reader “Your boring…and basic.”

Warnings: sukuna is very degrading, angst, threats

Your Yuji’s girlfriend, you stayed over at his dorm in jujutsu high because you didn’t feel good and he insisted you stay to rest..you’re a bit scared about your safety.

A/n: Im still sick while writing but i feel a-lot better today so i might as-well get something out for the time being💥

—————————————————————

It felt like you just got hit by 10 trucks. You don’t know why Yuji insisted on letting you stay in his dorm, he was only gonna get sick too. But you were really comfortable in his bed, it was really pillowy, soft and a bit bouncy which made you fall asleep nearly 3 times.

But you didn’t want to sleep yet, you wanted to wait until Yuji came back at least. You haven’t gotten to see him all day and you really missed him, but at the same time if he were to return by now and you were still awake he would scold you by saying “Sleep is the most important part of recovering during a sickness!! Go to bed!!” I mean you didn’t really care though, as long as he came home safe.

This was almost your 4th time falling asleep until you hear the door swing open, you turn on the other side of your chest to see Yuji finally walk in.

“Yujiii…..” you slur trying to say his name but it comes out in a groggy, sickend voice.

“Hey…im gonna go shower. Im tired.”

He shuts the door violently, the dorm room shaking in response. Thats odd. Well maybe he probably had a bad day is all, but that was still weird with the very short greeting. Oh well, He’s back safe. You and Yuji have been together for a while now, he was the one who confessed first but you needed a LONG time to think about it. Why? Because of Sukuna duh!

If Sukuna came out ANY time while you two were together its gg’s for you, thats why it was so hard to date him. Besides Sukuna you loved Yuji a-lot but with that curse basically bound to him for life it’s scary. Well hey, bonus points for Sukuna being attractive but those measly points don’t add up to the other tall rack of points of him killing you. Why did you even give in? Because love is a sick thing.

You love Yuji so much you dated him anyway regardless of the fact that a deadly, unmerciful curse was latched to him at all times watching you from place to place, hour to hour, minute by minute. Snapping back into reality, your were completely zoned out while Yuji was showering. You heard the water turn off and you decided to turn back on your other side not facing him.

You hear the door open and footsteps walk throughout the dorm room, was he looking for something? Ah right, earlier that day you did fold his clothes and put them somewhere else for the time being.

“If you need your clothes there in the little cabinet…”

“Thats not what i need brat.”

You froze. Your heart beating quicker…and quicker…Oh my gosh.

Please, please please tell me this is just a prank he set up with his friends. It’s just a joke…it’s just a joke..

You’ll be fine! You’ll be fine. Your mind is racing with possible outcomes, are you going to die?? What do you do what do you do.

Very slowly, you turn onto your other side again and land your eyes on Sukuna who was digging through Yuji’s bag, with only a towel on his waist. He looks up at you and you flinch.

“Do you have a staring problem human? Your in your weakest state, i could kill you right now.”

The air in the room gets thicker and tense, you don’t know what to say. The pressure is too much to bear..

“Sorry.” Was the only word you could push out, he was right. Maybe if you were fully recovered you could be able to put up a fight. But not for long anyway…Sukuna is strong. You take your eyes off of the curse and look into a corner of the room, but from the corner of your eye you can see Sukuna walking towards you. He examines you, your face, your eyes, and your nose, that is drooping extremely because you’re too scared to move and wipe it.

“Pathetic.”

You’re on the verge of pissing yourself, this was the most scariest encounter of your entire life.

“This is what this Yuji brat is into? I can tell you’re so so weak. I can crush this boy’s dream and end you.”

He grabs you by the neck, it was already hard to breathe because of your nose. So all you could rely on was your mouth but your throat was getting clogged more and more by his hand. He lifts you up to look at you even closer, handling you like a rag doll.

You were choking and struggling to breathe, you could feel death pulling on your leg. That is until he lets you go, your body flopping on the bed hardly moving because of how sore you feel.

“I find absolutley no pleasure in killing you, at least not today.”

What the heck does he mean by that-

“But, I’ve never seen you try your hardest. I will test you, i wanna see if you’re as good as this Itadori boy says. If not, you deserve to die. Your boring…and basic.”

“You wench.” He spat at you before collapsing onto the bed. That…really hurt. Psychically and mentally. Tears slowly fall before you quickly stop them, you back yourself away from Yuji’s body, scared to see what will happen.

“Y/n…Y/n???”

He regains his humanity and looks up you seeing your frightened form. “Im sorry for what just happened i was too tired and i couldn’t control him-.”

“Yuji.”

“Yes..?”

“We should break up.”

———————————————

Umm i have a love hate relationship with sukuna💥💥💥

[minkdelovely]

love and power

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧     ✧     ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

chapter four

“take what you want.”

Alastor x Fem!Reader ; MDNI 18+ ; [y/n] used sparingly ; Alias in Hell is Sylvie

tags/warnings: blood, flies, poisoning, mentions of nausea, descriptions of: violence ; cannibalism. ; suffocation ; and murder, kinda angsty?, slow burn eventual: smut

word count: 3.4k

author’s note: just a quick little note here for something i felt the need to clarify. there’s a moment that would have been perfect for alastor’s microphone but i am working under the fact that it’s still broken, which (to me) carries too much significance for his character and i don’t know how to magically fix it for him 🥲 i just realized i haven’t explicitly addressed why it hasn’t been mentioned at all and wanted to explain myself lol

prelude ; chapter one ; chapter two ; chapter three ; chapter four ; chapter five ; chapter six ; chapter seven ; chapter eight ; chapter nine ; chapter ten: part one ; chapter ten: part two

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧     ✧     ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

Seeing the distress on your face, Angel put a hand on your shoulder and tried to do damage control. “Whoa, babe, it’s okay! It’s probably just a coincidence — forget I said anything, all right? It was a gag!” 

You had been doing so well at keeping Donny from your mind today, but you could feel the panic welling up again. As the blood drained from your face, your mind raced with questions. How did Angel know it was Donny that you had attacked yesterday? How did they know each other — through work? Was someone looking for whoever had been responsible for it? What would happen if they found out it was you?

He peered over you and gave Alastor a nervous look. If you were shrinking against the static you felt building behind you, you didn’t even want to know what his face was looking like right now. But the thought of Angel being in Alastor’s line of fire was worse.

“But that was his name,” you said, giving them each a quick look. “Or at least that’s what I heard his friend call him.”

“Perhaps the elevator isn’t the best place for this,” Alastor said cooly, stepping forward to push the button that re-started your descent. He pivoted to face you and Angel and you felt admonished under his gaze. “Sylvie and I are on our way out, but if you’re free this evening Angel, we can discuss this more in private. I have some questions of my own.”

“It’s a date, Smiles,” Angel cooed, happy to diffuse the tension, and you felt yourself relax when he gave your shoulder a little squeeze. “I knew it was only a matter of time before you’d invite me up to your room.”

Alastor’s smile strained as his gaze wandered from Angel to you, leering. “Who said anything about my room?” 

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

The walk into the city had been quiet, the tension from the elevator ride not yet fully gone. You knew Alastor’s good mood from yesterday wouldn’t last forever, but nothing could have prepared you for Angel’s ambush. How were you just supposed to sit with this until tonight? Your mind was still going in circles with questions, but what you really couldn’t let go of was how upset you had gotten at the sound of Donny’s name. Last night you thought you had made some kind of peace with your actions, but apparently you weren’t quite there yet.

It wasn’t so much the murder that bothered you, since you knew he’d eventually recover. Besides, it’s not like it was something you technically hadn’t done before. Though what happened with your grandmother was different; you’d poisoned her for starters. The rest was damage control and you died in the process so… karma. 

It was the rage you displayed that was chilling. You had never lost control like that before, no matter how upset you had been. And even though you had thrown up, you never thought — no. It was still too much to think about and your stomach turned in response, threatening to evacuate what little was in there.

You were so lost in thought it wasn’t until you were nearly standing in it that you realized Alastor had brought you to the alley. He really was such a menace. Donny was nowhere to be seen but the large pool of blood left behind had baked into the concrete. The bag with the liver was there as well, rotting in the afternoon sun.

“Is this the bag you were muttering about earlier?” Alastor asked, leaning over it with his arms crossed behind his back. You had forgotten about letting that slip while you were cleaning, your headache getting the best of you in a moment of weakness. Alastor hadn’t been moved.

He seemed unbothered by the putrid smell that you were actively trying not to gag on. Flies escaped the bag as he inspected it with the tip of his shoe and you grit your teeth in disgust at the sight. Alastor looked over at you when you didn’t respond right away, his neck bent at an unnatural angle to make eye contact. You managed a nod in confirmation, too nauseous to dare open your mouth to answer. Had he really brought you here just to see if you had been lying about it? Or did he just want to see you squirm? Probably both.

You nearly fainted when he reached inside the bag, sending more flies on their way, and held the soggy, rancid parcel in his hand. Enjoying your repulsion, he made a show of inspecting it. The glittering smile on his face one of the more genuine displays you’d witnessed. 

“Such a shame. This would have made a great surprise,” he said as his hand turned over, the liver falling to the ground in a resounding, wet slap. 

Almost instinctually, your hand went to your mouth, drawing out a lighthearted chuckle from Alastor. He wiped off his hand and made his way back to you then, and you trailed slightly behind him down the street. Neither of you noticed the drone.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

Alastor was beginning to feel… impatient.

Considering the ordeal yesterday, he hadn’t expected you to be in the best of moods but you had started the morning off with some promise until Angel Dust appeared in the elevator. His lip twitched at the thought. What a fucking disaster that had turned out to be! The gray cloud hanging over you since then had only seemed to build, despite his effort to snap you out of it by popping into the alley.

Of course that had been mostly, if not solely, for his own pleasure. It was disappointing but not surprising that your victim Donny had been retrieved. Alastor had recognized the name of course, recalling how Valentino was shouting at his phone as he left the dry cleaners. It just had to be one of his little toys that you messed with, didn’t it? Not that you had known, but it was only a matter of time before that garish buffoon would find out about you. And despite it all, the dried blood that nearly reached from wall-to-wall was such a marvelous sight — what a mess you had made! A job well-done indeed, though it had put him in a bind. 

He knew you weren’t going to have the same appreciation for it that he did, and your disgust at his performance with the spoiled liver had been fun enough. He hadn’t been lying when he said it would have made a great surprise. But none of that had done anything to cheer you, and now you weren’t even keeping pace, walking behind him like a kicked dog. Hell, you certainly looked like one, the sullenness on your face threatening to break his own composure by the second. This wouldn’t do, not for the last free afternoon that he had you at his disposal. 

Alastor paused, ignoring how you ran into him and cursed, his attention on a cafe across the street he was fairly certain he had visited before. Perhaps sitting down to chat would help. It was lunchtime, anyway.

“Let’s stop in there,” he said, looking down at you, taking care to point out the cafe. Lord knows your poor soul needed all the direction it could get right now.

“I thought you wanted something from the butcher?” you questioned, eyeing him and the cafe with suspicion. 

The Radio Demon narrowed his eyes, smile tight, his shadow pulling free of him for a moment. If he wasn’t on the verge of being pissed off your question would’ve been funny; a feeble attempt at seeming to know his mind. And as of now, he was not in a laughing mood. Were you really so self-absorbed that you couldn’t tell you were on thin ice? A reset was definitely in order.

“Can’t a fellow change his mind? That rigidity of yours puts such a sour mood on everything! You seem to be full of nasty little habits,” Alastor sneered, pleased to have gotten under your skin as you scowled at him.

He didn’t wait for you as he made his way across the street, knowing you’d follow whether you wanted to or not.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

Being treated to lunch wasn’t something you had ever expected from Alastor. Impossible didn’t even begin to describe this scenario. It was just so… cordial. He always took his meals alone at the hotel, making Rosie the only person you knew he would willingly dine with. And there was no way sitting down to a table with you would equate to that. Rosie was a peer — a friend! You were not and never would be.

That much was evident when he had held the door open for you, clearly forcing his hand. Outwardly, it would have appeared a genteel act but you knew better, even without the self-righteousness on his face as you quietly entered the cafe. What else could you have done but obey? It’s not like you could run away, having already felt the ominous tug on your neck as he walked across the street. 

He had left you at the table to order at the counter, and you watched as the cashier struggled to maintain his composure in Alastor’s presence, seemingly scared to death. It was the first time you had ever seen someone outside of the hotel interact with him, you realized. Alastor was being polite enough, though nothing seemed to reign in his air of superiority. The look in his red eyes told you all you needed to know: he loved having power over others. Whether it came from a place of fear or respect didn’t matter as long as he had the upper hand. This was the demon you belonged to.

When he joined you at the table, you could tell he was in a bit of a better mood. Despite the means to get here, you silently thanked the cashier for cowering. Hopefully he had softened whatever blow Alastor had in store for you. Though the placid look Alastor was giving you made you fidgety. Could be the calm before the storm…

“You’ve been testing my patience,” he finally said, waiting for the boy from the register to leave the table after dropping off two coffees. “But luckily for you, there are more important things I’d like to discuss. I’ve had quite a busy morning, not that you bothered to ask.”

It took all you had not to roll your eyes but you managed to keep a straight face, feeling his temper writhing just under the surface of his calm facade. But you had been with him nearly all morning. Or did his suite magically clean itself? What could possibly have happened in between those few gaps? Especially something you’d want or even know to ask about. And if I’d asked, you wouldn’t have told me, you thought indignantly.

“I’m sorry… the whole thing with Angel just really threw me off,” you said as sincerely as you could. It wasn’t a lie, after all. “And I don’t think going to the alley helped, either,” you added, eyes flitting from him to your coffee. Bold, but also not a lie.

He chuckled into his cup. “I’ll concede to that. I thought it would be funny, but I shouldn’t expect you to share my taste in humor. You’re still so new, and all that. But I worry if you don’t shake that mortal way of thinking you’ll wither, my dear, and that would be a shame. If you’ll allow me, I’d take great pleasure in helping you fix that.”

You were unsure of how to react. Technically, he didn’t need to ask your permission for anything, so was this just the illusion of giving you a choice only to end up as a trap? It felt as if there was always something just out of reach whenever he spoke to you like this, like the fine print in a contract. He was only direct when he was upset, which you’d prefer if you were being honest. Anger you could take — understand, even. But this? You were just spinning your wheels. 

“So, what, I’m not doing the afterlife right, or something?” It had been somewhat of a joke, but the look he gave you was smug.

“That’s precisely what I’m saying. You’ve been dead a few months now, yes? But the moral compass you’re adhering to won’t benefit you here. Take Donny for instance,” he said, eyes brightening as you flinched at the name. “What’s bothering you so much about it? He provoked you, didn’t he? Regale me with your account!”

He made a show of settling in his chair, adjusting his coat and crossing his legs, apparently content to sit for hours if that’s what it took for you to open up. You remembered him asking you to tell him what Donny had done when you were walking back to the hotel yesterday, but wasn’t that just teasing? The expectant look on Alastor’s face begged to differ. 

So you told him.

To your surprise, he sat there and listened as the words spilled from your mouth. Your intent hadn’t been to ramble, but he didn’t seem bothered by it as you took him through the events of yesterday morning. Eventually getting to how you had been so close to making it back in time, only to be cornered and harassed; a sick twist of fate just for wanting to be prepared. He was calm as you told him how Donny had grabbed you and licked the tears off your face, but you could’ve sworn you saw his eye twitch.

“And then I just… lost it, I don’t know,” you sighed, hiding your face in your hands. “I was just so mad! Like who the fuck did he think he was, touching me like that? And my body just reacted before my mind could catch up. But then when it was all over, I…,” you paused and let out a breath, fighting against the turmoil in your stomach from what you were preparing to say next. “I can still feel how my teeth punctured his skin. I can hear the sound it made, even more than the screaming. I didn’t even know I was swallowing it all until…”

You stopped then, the tingling in your throat painful, your coffee long forgotten and cold. He had been there for the rest of it, what more was there to say? Did he really want to know how every sip of liquid or bite of food since then had been nearly-impossible tasks? How you had sobbed in the shower as you watched the blood stream down your legs and into the drain? Or how you barely managed to look yourself in the mirror because it felt like someone else was looking back? Those didn’t seem like details he’d be interested in.

In fact, weren’t they the very things he was inferring your morality had burdened you with? You’d only be making his point for him, and somewhere in your mind you concurred. You didn’t want to be saddled with this misery forever, but the person you always thought you were was slipping away, and you just wanted to cling to whatever pieces you had left. Horror was a welcome pill to swallow. It meant that you hadn’t completely enjoyed what you had done. 

Because part of you had enjoyed it.

You thought of your grandmother again. In life, there had been countless times you made yourself small for the sake of accommodation. No telling how many words had died in your throat because it was easier not to say them. So as you watched her fall out of that godforsaken chair she loved so much, gasping for air that wouldn’t come as she crawled on her hands and knees, you relished it. She had pushed you to your limit and was finally paying the price. Appalling as it was, for the first time in your life you had felt strong. 

Killing Donny hadn’t left you with the same feeling of victory as killing your grandmother had, though. What his intentions for you had been, you’d probably never know, but they definitely weren’t anything good. In that sense you were very glad to have gotten to him first and, to a certain extent, would do it all over again if need be. But none of this was information you felt like confessing to Alastor.

“And here I was, hoping that the cannibals had rubbed off on you,” Alastor mourned, resting his chin in his hand. “So eating him is what’s upset you, not the murder?” You couldn’t ignore the glimmer in his eye or the insinuation behind it.

“You’re generalizing,” you chided, sighing as you crossed your arms. You were feeling very tired now. “But yes, if that answers your question. He’ll heal eventually and he would have hurt me if I hadn’t done what I did.”

“That’s true enough,” he agreed, pushing back from the table to stand. He offered you a hand and you took it, feeling slightly stiff from sitting so long. “I suppose you’re not as hopeless as I thought, but my offer still stands. I think under the right circumstance, you could learn to enjoy it.”

You scoffed. Was he serious? “Was that really what you wanted to talk to me about? I’m not trying to eat people for fun.”

Alastor didn’t answer, but his smile was wicked as he took your arm in his as you left the cafe. You did your best not to imagine what thoughts could be passing in his mind, but felt relief all the same seeing him in a better mood again.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

The two of you had barely entered the lobby when Angel sprang off the couch in the parlor, looking irritated and worn out. “Fucking finally! We need to—”

Alastor couldn’t help but wonder if he was the only creature in this realm that understood the art of subtlety. Hadn’t the debacle in the elevator been enough for one day? Was he doomed forever to salvage any bit of decorum that he could come across? It was truly lamentable.

“Sylvie, why don’t you go prepare my room for the evening? I’d prefer to speak with Angel alone,” Alastor said, removing your arm from his as he turned to face Angel Dust. He could feel his shadow threatening to separate from him, but scaring the boy would be counterproductive. “Shall we head to yours?”

He ignored your huff of frustration at being dismissed, but was grateful you didn’t fight him on it. It’s not a battle you would have won anyway. As soon as he saw that you were in the elevator, Alastor’s shadow enveloped the two of them, re-materializing in Angel’s room.

“Remind me to never let you do that again,” Angel grimaced, rubbing his arms squeamishly. “I feel dirty, and that’s sayin’ a lot.”

Alastor’s patience was threatening to snap, and he didn’t succeed in maintaining a pleasant tone when he spoke. “Why don’t we discuss whatever it was you were about to shout in the lobby? Or was the urgency just an act?”

Angel scoffed. “Hey, fuck you, all right? I was just tryin’ to help, and now I’ve been roped into your bullshit! Val’s been blowin’ up my fuckin’ phone all afternoon — he said a drone caught you and Sylvie in an alley or some shit?”

Alastor’s eyes went black, his pupils switched to dials. Fuck. This was all happening much sooner than Alastor had planned for. He had originally planned to ask Angel what Valentino had known in regard to Donny, hoping to have the upper hand and confront the cretin on his own terms. But now the ball was in Valentino’s court… and he had brought it upon himself. He just had to go back to that fucking alley earlier, didn’t he? Alastor could feel the rage threatening to consume him, but that would have to wait until he had a moment to himself. 

“What does he want?” he managed to ask without venom, antlers growing despite himself.

“I don’t know, but he won’t quit houndin’ me,” Angel huffed, sitting on the edge of his bed. “He wasn’t even pissed off about Donny, he thought it was funny! That piece of shit barely gets work anyway. But now he knows you’re involved and said he wants to meet up you know where. Whatever the fuck that means…” 

Alastor sighed, eyes returning to red, and wiped off his monocle if only to keep his hands busy. He’d hate to strangle Angel Dust by mistake. It would be difficult to explain, and besides, he wasn’t one to shoot the messenger.

“Tell him I’ll be there tomorrow afternoon. I’ll do what I can to ensure he keeps you out of it going forward,” Alastor said in a clipped voice, blood dripping down the corner of his mouth. He disappeared from the room before Angel could respond.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧     ✧     ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

tag list: @fairyv-ice, @wat4r, @midorichoco, @raynerrold

[merbear25]

Shunsui and fem!reader nurse roleplay scenario? (readers the nurse no one wants to see that man in a nurse costume). Nsfw of course lol

Ohohohoo~ What a fun scenario 🤭 Thank you for sending this in. I hope you like it 💜💜

You’d been nursing your boyfriend back to full health after a big battle. Tending to his wounds helped make your bond closer because you saw a part of each other that wouldn’t have been shown to you otherwise. Your devotion helped scheme a wild idea to play out this role to its fullest.

CW: NSFW, MDNI, fem!reader, established relationship, roleplay (sexy nurse), some teasing, fluffy smut, vaginal penetration, cockwarming, cowgirl, cumshot

Bedside manner (Shunsui)

You came into the bedroom to check on him again, thinking that this would be the last change of his bandages you’d have to do. He greeted you with a smile like always, asking about how your day was going, to which you always responded with gentle teasing.

“Not much else has changed since I saw you a couple of hours ago,” you chuckled softly.

“Oh? Well, then I suppose that’s a good thing.”

Your gentle hum while humoring him on all the ins and outs of your duties for that day never failed to get even the slightest smile out of him. Even though he knew what you’d be up to, yet still asked was something that grew on you. Unwrapping his bandages, the wounds healed nicely, albeit leaving some light scaring in some areas. 

“These look good.” You lightly touched his skin, examining him more closely. A soft inhale came from him. “Did that hurt?”

“No, no, your fingers are cold.”

“Oh, sorry, I guess I shouldn’t have come right in from outside.”

“Don’t worry about it.” He took your hand in his, bringing it to his mouth. His lips ghosted your fingers, letting his breath warm them a little. “I can think of a way to warm you up.”

A smirk played on your lips. “Is that so?”

“Mmhm, been thinking about it for a while, actually.” He placed soft kisses along your knuckles, savoring the way your skin warmed up under his lips. “You’ve been such a good woman, taking care of me the way you did, that I couldn’t help the image I got—you in that nice little nurse outfit you wore for Halloween. You still have it, don’t you?”

His sultry gaze sent shivers down your spine. Your flustered nod made him smirk. “Can you put it on for me for one more request?” The giddiness carrying you out of the room was more than enough of a response from you.

While waiting for you to return, he smiled to himself. Recollections of you tending to him up until he was fully recovered warmed his heart. To have such an incredibly selfless woman by his side was something he never realized he needed so much. His eyes flicked to the doorway. You entered in that skimpy dress, thigh-high laced stockings, and the top already undone to show off your chest.

“You’re absolutely breathtaking.” He adjusted himself to pull you on top of him.

Climbing on his lap, you hiked up the short skirt of your already risque dress. Your g-string left nothing to the imagination and did just as you hoped it would do—lure him into grabbing at your exposed body. His hands went up your dress, tugging on your skimpy underwear and claiming your stomach. Pulling you closer, he wanted to be buried in your cleavage. Kissing and sucking at your sensitive skin was already making you pant with need.

Your hands ran up and down his chest, lightly combing through his chest hair when he nipped at your hardened nipples. Bathing your sweet body in desperate breaths, hot wet kisses, and needy touches was driving you wild. You couldn’t help but moan from the intensity at which he wanted you. Leaning back, the hardened arousal waiting for you had you moaning softly.

“You’ve been waiting a long time for this, haven’t you?” The motion of your hips lured a groan from him.

“Can you blame me? You’re so perfect that it drives me crazy.” Your hands roamed over his bare stomach as you stabilized yourself on his lap. Your hips moved against him, teasing him for more. A wet patch spread on the small piece of fabric of your panties the more you rubbed against him, leaving you hungrier than ever.

“I loved taking care of you, and I don’t want to stop just yet.” Releasing his arousal from confinement, your fingers wrapped around it to give his throbbing need for you a few mercy strokes. The head of his cock showed glistening beads of cum from the slightest attention. “Tell me what you’ve been dreaming about all this time.”

“I just want to feel you… Want to feel you around me so badly.”

Pushing the thin garment to the side, you positioned his tip with your entrance. Pushing it in, you gasped softly, and as you sat on it, you could feel your walls spasming. “I’ve missed this…”

His hands gripped your hips tightly, forcing you in place to allow himself to enjoy your soaked walls twitching around his length. “Me too…” He groaned while bucking his hips slightly.

You met his movements slowly at first, fully savoring the sensations. In no time you began chasing after that fluttering deep within your core that he was hitting so perfectly. His hands moved to your waist, guiding your eagerness up and down on him. 

The scent of desperation blended with the tangy musk of sex. Wet slapping skin filled the room as you creamed on him, your wetness dripping on his hips.

“You’re so perfect,” he moaned in shaky breaths. “In every way”

Your pants of readied agreement grew shrill as he praised you. Hearts pounding against your chests, sweat kissing your skin, and breathless words of devotion: you couldn’t hold on anymore. A blissful groan passed your trembling lips as you shook on him. His choked gasps accompanied a swift pull of you off of him. His hand clenched at his cock, as he pulled you closer. Your breasts were caressing his flushed face, while he shot hot loads on your back and your ass.

You held him closely as he caught his breath. His cum trickled down your smooth skin and onto his stomach, letting the intensity of your session sink in.

“You did such a good job healing me.”

The both of you chuckled softly, still holding each other for a little while longer since you didn’t have the chance for physical intimacy in what felt like an eternity.

[thewhumpcaretaker]

Hellooooooo 🗣💙🖤

While I'm still thinking and going back to that gif of Riccardo in a bathtub... what do you think about Santino being taken care of like that? What would even get him into that situation that he has no strength or will (or can't do it on his own) to take care of himself like that? How would John help him? I'm pretty sure he is willing to do anything for him. :<

His husband is not doing well, he has to take care of him 😞

Pathetic little wet cat moment with Santino... but also just hurt/comfort again ❤️‍🩹

HELLO this got so out of hand, it's 1,400 words. I ended up really loving this prompt! Lots of comfort for the pathetic wet cat, he really needs it. By the way, this is in the early days of their relationship – they haven’t even made it official yet.

Here's the gif that inspired it.

🖤💙You'll Thank Me Tomorrow 💙🖤

TW: alcohol, vomiting, a person being refused sex because he's too drunk to consent, nonsexual bathing

John was watching the Camorra prince carefully from across the bar. Pink and green lights crashed together on his cheeks, enhancing their lively flush. And he looked beautiful, animated, but…something was wrong. He was talking too loudly, laughing too much, and there was a hint of anger in it. John couldn’t make out what he was saying over the general babble and the music, but whoever he was talking to had been irritating him for a while now, and he’d been dealing with it by throwing back shot after shot of whiskey. It wasn’t like him. He had a glass of wine sometimes in the evenings – it helped him relax. But he never got drunk. John had never seen him like this before.

He caught Addy’s eye over the tap and she let concern flicker through her expression for half a second – yes, she saw it too.

He eyed the man on the stool next to Santino. He was well dressed, a Camorra higher-up of some kind. And he was saying something that Santino absolutely hated. Maybe he was a rival? It was hard to tell. But he was getting more intense as time went on, in response to Santino’s intensity. Before he knew what was happening, their voices were raised. Damn it…he couldn’t bring himself to stay out of it anymore.

He appeared at Santino’s side so suddenly and quietly that he almost startled him. “Hey. Is he bothering you?”

“Wha - ? Oh, John.” He recovered himself in a moment, and instead got a wicked, petulant sort of grin on his face. “No, he’s not bothering me. He can’t bother me. Look, I can even do this.” Santino shoved him.

The man was understandably irate. “Lay off it!”

“Why should I?” He opened his arms, thrusting out his chest, cocky. “You can’t do shit to me! Continental rules.” He grinned, a smug, feline thing, so distinctive to his particular manner of bravado.

“Santino – “ But it was too late. John saw what was going to happen before he did. The man grabbed the glass next to him and dumped it over his head, leaving him shocked and spluttering, with his hair clinging to his face. The conversations nearest to them died away, and a ripple of awkward silence spread to the edges of the room.

He swayed dangerously, moving towards the man instead of the opposite direction where he should be going. “Tu… figlio di puttana…[You….son of a bitch…]”

“Boys!” Addy broke in, a note of solemn warning under her normally bubbly demeanor. “You know the rules. We’re going to be sensible about this, right?”

Santino was still babbling on, almost incoherent. “You don’t…you don’t get to…” But John grabbed his arms, as much to keep him from falling as to keep him from lunging forward.

“Yes, we are. Thank you, Addy, I’ll take care of him.” She nodded in thanks. Santino’s weight lurched around, struggling against him, but he just marched him away towards the elevator.

“Wait…where are we…”

“Your room.” He was leaned fully against John now, seeming suddenly so small, and it made it hard to think. His heart was racing against Santino’s alcohol-drenched vest. “…What floor?”

“Ummm…”

“Never mind. My room. Is that okay?”

“Okay.” He slumped against John’s shoulder, absently grabbing for his hand. John blushed and let their fingers entwine. But Santino was whining even as he nuzzled against him. “Why’d you pull me away? Tsk, you’re so…I could have taken him.“

“You’re not supposed to ‘take him.’ You’ll thank me tomorrow.” He paused. “What did he say to you?”

“He said…he just kept saying things…that he’s glad I’m not the heir, that I don’t deserve command over any of my territory. Kept saying it too subtly and in a friendly way, so I couldn’t say anything back, and I just got angrier and angrier…I hate myself when I’m like this.”

“Don’t hate yourself.” It was a simple thing to say, but it had to be said. The fight was draining out of Santino, and in its place was something tired and needy and very pitiful. The elevator doors opened and John pulled him down the hall towards his room.

“John…I’m too drunk.”

“I know.”

“I don’t feel good.”

“I know.” He stroked his hair and started fishing out his room key, still supporting Santino all the while.

“He’ll attack my territory tomorrow. Because I shoved him. He’ll use it as an excuse. He did it on purpose.” Santino sounded so defeated. His mood was worsening by the moment.

“…Yeah.” John led him inside towards the bed, narrowly preventing him from stumbling into the nightstand and he clutched at his tie in response, trying to steady himself and nearly dragging John down in the process. “Just lay down.”

But Santino just continued swaying and holding onto him. It took him a second to realize he was going to be sick, and by that time he couldn’t get him to the bathroom. He just held his hand and waited for it to be over.

It was like all the energy drained out of him after that. He sunk down against the wall with dead eyes. The room seemed horribly quiet. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I’ll call room service. Um…let’s get you cleaned up.”

Santino nodded. He didn’t seem capable of speaking anymore. There were tears on his cheeks and it made John’s heart ache. He didn’t let go of his hand for even a second while phoning for a maid, and then lifted him in his arms and carried him into the bathroom, locking the door behind them. The room filled with warm steam that made the world feel almost equally blurry to both of them, a sad but intimate space of deep love and care for one another.

None of it seemed to reach Santino. He was limp and pliable and completely unresisting as John peeled off his shirt. He hesitated at his belt, and didn’t touch his underwear at all.

John got him into the water and stood there with him, steadying his shoulders, making sure he wouldn’t fall or be sick again. “We’ll just get you cleaned off enough and then you can lay down, okay?”

“Mmmm…can I have a bath actually?” John almost laughed, relieved that there was still some hint of the demanding little prince he knew.

“Yeah. Anything you want.”

But of course he pushed further. “Can I have your cock in me then?”

This time he really did laugh. “Well no…not that. You’re too drunk, mio caro.”

“Mio caro…” he repeatedly, dazed. “Is that how you feel about me?”

John swallowed. “Yes. It is.”

“That’s how I feel about you too.” A flood of unbridled happiness. But…it couldn’t be true. Santino would probably forget he said that in the morning. Don’t hope. Don’t let yourself hope.

“…Come on, step out for a minute so I can run the bath.”

He looked even more pitiful, leaned against the wall all soaked and shivering in the minute or two it took for John to get the bath water ready. He had a towel around his shoulders at least, but John hurried as much as he could, and rewarded him with a forehead kiss when he was done. Then he lowered him gently into the water. Santino’s eyes closed as he leaned his head back, and he sighed miserably. But after a few moments, he finally seemed to get some peace.

John attended to him in every way he could. He lathered shampoo into his curls and rinsed him with handful after handful of warm water, massaging over his scalp and then the base of his neck. And Santino relaxed further and further at the feeling of those strong, capable hands moving over him, making sure everything was exactly as it should be. He made little inadvertent sounds of joy at being so comforted, and then finally became so sleepy that he made no sounds at all.

John would have to get him out of the water once it got cold, but for now, he might as well let him rest. John sat down on the edge of the tub with a hand over his chest and just held him, looking at the deep frown lines and the signs of care already forming at the corners of his eyes. The world had been too harsh on Santino. He deserved so much gentleness. And John decided then and there that he would give it to him.

[boyfriendstevie]

Holiday requests!! Yay!! I have still not recovered from sturdy, but I'm coming in hot with a request for naughty 😏

I would love something with Steve, and from wintery prompt list #2, number 27 (getting tipsy on eggnog and mulled wine) and smut prompt list #3 , number 18 (you.me.bed.clothes.off.now)

- @superblysubpar 💛

hehe thank you taylor!! combining this with another ask that also had #27 on it, as well as the prompt "Baby—shit—I don’t think I’m gonna make it to the bed like this.” | oral (steve receiving), gn!reader, 18+ only!! mdni!!

-

Steve giggles — literally full-on giggles — as he closes and locks the front door behind him when the last of your friends leave. The eggnog and mulled wine you’ve had over the course of the evening leaves both of you in a weird state of tipsy. Not drunk, but definitely not sober, mostly just giggly and clumsy. And horny. 

Even in his stupid, ugly Christmas sweater he looks handsome. You always want him, but it’s turned up to an 11 when you’re tipsy and finally alone. 

“Steeeevie,” you call his name in a sing-song voice, pointing to the air above his head, “Look!”

His head whips up and he giggles again when he realizes he’s standing directly under the mistletoe you’d insisted on hanging earlier. “O-oh shit!” he hiccups, and holds his hands out to you, making a grabbing motion in your direction, “C’mere, honey. Need a smooch.”

You gladly oblige, setting the drink in your hand down on the coffee table before making your way to him, “I knew the mistletoe would come in handy!” Your hands slide around his torso, front pressing against his as you pucker your lips and lean up on your toes. 

He meets you halfway, arm curling around your waist as his lips meet yours. Steve fully intends for it to be a quick, soft kiss, but you really want him, and refuse to let go. It only takes a second for him to melt back into you and kiss you again, this time kissing you like he has something to prove. His lips are soft, and he tastes a hell of a lot like the alcohol in your drinks, mixed with a dash of peppermint. It’s festive, and it puts you in the mood for something other than the holiday spirit. 

When you finally pull back to take a breath, both of you are panting. Between breaths, you steal another kiss and grin at your boyfriend as you say, “You. Me. Bed. Clothes off… Now.”

Steve’s eyes grow comically wide as he nods dutifully, “We can do that.” He grabs your hand in his and begins pulling you away from the front door, towards your bedroom. 

It’s like a movie, though, the way you keep kissing as you walk, bumping into furniture, stopping to press each other into walls to keep making out. You’re nearly to the bedroom when you’ve got Steve’s back pressed against the wall as you kiss. Your hands wander, seemingly of their own volition, and slide underneath his sweater, fingers tucking under the waistband of his jeans. 

A soft gasp escapes Steve when your cold hands touch his skin, and he nearly crumples, even though you haven’t properly touched him yet. Any amount of alcohol tends to turns Steve’s senses up times a million, and it doesn’t take much for him to become putty in your hands. 

You don’t move your hands for a moment, opting instead to keep kissing him. He’s fervent about it, teeth nipping at your bottom lip, even as your hands push between his jeans and the fabric of his boxers. He only falters for a moment with a soft whimper when you cup his cock in your hand through his underwear. 

Unsurprisingly, Steve’s half hard already with the alcohol in his system, and with the way you’d pressed up against him for a kiss and then stumbled around in the dark together. You rub your hand along the length of his cock, palming him gently as you kiss. It doesn’t take very long before he’s whining into your mouth, hips pushing into your touch. 

Steve only breaks from the kiss to wrap a hand around your wrist and stutter, “Baby— shit— I don’t think ’m gonna make it to the bed like this.”

Even though you’d been the one to suggest taking it to the bedroom, you’re not against getting to it sooner, and peck Steve’s lips before sinking to your knees in front of him, “That’s okay, Stevie. I’ll take care of you right now.” 

Pressing another kiss to his hips right above his waistline, your fingers find the button of his jeans and then the zipper. “Oh... fuck,” Steve mutters a bit weakly as your hands pull at both his pants and his underwear, “Right here? In— in the hall?” 

“Mhm,” you hum, a bit distracted by the sight in front of you. He’s so hard, leaking precum onto your fingers as your hand wraps around his length. You press the softest of kisses to the tip, tongue flicking out over his slit, and giggle when he twitches in your hand. Your eyes shoot up to his, meeting his heavy, half-lidded gaze, “’S that okay?”

“Oh, fuck,” he murmurs again, one hand reaching down to cup your cheek as you stroke him slowly, waiting for his answer, “y-yeah that— ’s okay.” 

“Great,” you say softly, pushing your cheek into his hand for a moment before you turn back to the task at hand, giving him another kiss. It looks like he might say something, but you cut him off when you take him into your warm, wet mouth. Hollowing your cheeks around him for just a moment, just enough to tease, you pull back with a wet pop and glance back up at your boyfriend, "Gonna cum in mouth in the hallway before we even get to the bedroom, baby? Hope you'll have another in you..."

join the celebration!

[olive-enthusiast]

Defending Aziraphale cause I KNOW y’all are gonna come for him:

1. a lot of people say that him deciding to go back to heaven is a character regression and doesn’t make sense- but it does! aziraphale has 6000+ years of repressed trauma from doing what heaven tells him! and even if he does seem to be taking steps forward (shades of gray), he never fully takes that big leap away from heaven (very LIGHT shades of gray). you can’t just recover from it!

2. also, we never actually see him get over the demons bad angels good thing. crowley is the only exception to this rule, in his eyes. he still views the Fall as a bad thing, which is why he wants them to be angels together!

3. people are also saying that it’s crazy ineffable bureaucracy got together so fast without too much internal conflict, unlike the (now divorced) husbands. but it makes sense because GABRIEL AND BEELZEBUB RAN THE SYSTEM. AND CROWLEY WAS CLEARLY A HIGH RANKING ANGEL WHO FELL VERY EARLY ON, MAKING HIM VERY DISILLUSIONED WITH THE SYSTEM. aziraphale mever got that chance- he was a lower ranking angel that was beaten down by this system, and as such doesn’t see that it’s the system that’s corrupt, not just the angels within. he still believes that heaven is a GOOD place filled with BAD angels, because he has literally never had the chance to learn otherwise.

and this is why it narratively makes perfect sense for him to become the supreme archangel- he’ll finally be able to see that the idea of heaven is corrupt because he’ll be in charge of it!

4. aziracrow have also been shown to be a direct parallel to nina and maggie. in the last episode, nina says that they’re not ready for a relationship because she just left her incredibly toxic and abusive partner. aziraphale and nina are in very similar situations! he literally just left heaven, which was incredibly toxic and abusive, and might not be ready for a relationship with crowley yet! however, unlike nina, he doesn’t fully believe that his previous situation was toxic, so he goes back- because he hasn’t seen enough to understand!

5. he clearly wants to FIX the system, not just be a part of it, because he is intrinsically such a selfless being. he still hasn’t learned to put what he actually wants before what he thinks everybody needs yet, because, again, he doesn’t understand how heaven works!

in conclusion i love aziraphale and i haven’t slept because i’ve been thinking about the finale so lmk if this doesn’t make sense but i will not be changing my thoughts about aziraphale

ALSO KEEP REWATCHING GOOD OMENS WE NEED SEASON 3

[save-the-villainous-cat]

hiii love your writing omg could you do like. enemies with benefits banter. (w hero x villain obvi) (eg u don’t have to do the nsfw but like the banter)

“So.”

“So?”

The hero crossed their arms in front of their chest as their eyes scanned the villain. From their feet right up to their head. As always, their eyes were hypnotising and the villain almost got a little too distracted.

Sometimes they wished they weren’t as invested as they were. Sometimes they wished they returned to their bitter and cold self.

But, Christ, they were so much happier.

“Is there something you would like to confess?” the hero asked. They almost sounded disappointed.

“Uhh…like how I’d rather watch you undress right now?”

The hero tilted their head and took a step forward. Immediately, the villain could see how their grip on their weapon tightened and instinctively, the villain reached for their own. They were gonna get their ass kicked if they didn’t make the right moves.

“What?” the hero asked, smirking now. “Are you scared?”

“Scared or turned on. Haven’t really decided yet.” Within seconds, the hero managed to push the villain against the wall. One hand on the villain’s shoulder, pinning them against the hard wall, the other still holding the hero’s weapon — a gun this time — and pressing it against the villain’s jaw.

“Well, you better figure out what you’re feeling in the next few seconds because I’m just gonna ask once. You robbed a bank this morning. Where’s the money?”

“Already spent all of it,” the villain said. They shrugged but had to smile when the hero’s eyes widened in shock.

“On what?”

“Oh, I just…” The villain’s fingertips touched the hero’s wrist gently and followed the large scar down the hero’s forearm. They remembered the injury a little too well. A badly broken arm that had needed months to recover fully. To be honest, they didn’t even need the money. They just (desperately) wanted the hero’s attention. “…I just wanted to spoil a certain someone. You know. Dinner, vacation, shopping. All that stuff.”

“You’re so full of shit.” Despite their words, the hero was blushing. Their grip around their gun loosened as they were lost in thought and the villain seized the opportunity to turn the tables and grab the hero and turn them. As a result, they pushed them against the wall, making sure they were gentle with the hero’s ribs. They were still bruised from a recent fight.

The villain leaned in and let their breath hit the hero’s exposed neck.

Probably one of the most sensitive parts of the hero’s body.

“It’s a bit much. But I’m willing to treat you like royalty. I mean who wouldn’t? After such a night…”

“Hey.” The hero pushed the villain’s face away from them, embarrassed. “I’m here for the money you stole, not for…you know, not for…”

“And I just wanted to see you,” the villain answered. They took in a deep breath dramatically. “Is that such a sin?”

“You know, most people separate their work and personal life,” the hero said. Again, the villain’s face came closer and this time, the hero only rolled their eyes and tried to dodge their gaze.

“Well, the first time we got…personal was at work,” the villain reminded them. It had been a very eye opening experience, that was clear.

The hero’s blush deepened and it became quite apparent to the villain that they were a little tired today. They always got a little shy when they didn’t have enough energy.

“Hm. Alright, alright. I guess that’s all the time I’m gonna steal from you today. Don’t want you to be overworked and then all exhausted next time we have—”

“Alright,” the hero said quickly. “Just give me the money and I won’t arrest you.”

“Mmm…fine.” The villain let their eyes drop to the hero’s lips. One last tease. “Feel free to visit me this evening.”

“We’ll see.” As always, that meant they’d be there.

At eight o’clock sharp.

[sunshinesteviee]

only you - s.h.

summary: steve finally wakes up after surviving the upside down, and all he can ask for is you, though you're not sure why; gn!reader wc: 2.1kwarnings: mentions of injuries, the hospital, a touch of angst?, slight enemies to lovers, canon? we don't know her a/n: this was originally supposed to be a blurb for my 8k celebration, but got way out of hand! for my wifey @sparklingsin

You’re lucky to have escaped the upside down fairly unscathed, you know that. You’d been scratched and bruised, briefly strangled by the vines, but aside from that, you’re okay. Most of your friends weren’t that lucky, and many of them sit in hospital beds still. Meaning you’re still rotating between their rooms, making conversation with Eddie, who, despite having literal chunks of his torso torn out by the demobats, seems to be in good spirits, comforting Max when she’s awake, and sitting silently in Steve’s room. Steve, who has yet to wake up. Steve, who you’re not totally sure would even want you there. 

The relationship you have with Steve is complicated, to say the least. You’d never liked him in high school. He’d been arrogant and rude, and at times, he could be a bully. It wasn’t until a weird twist of fate — Max being terrorized by this otherworldly creature — that you really got to know Steve. He wasn’t the same as he’d been in high school, but you still had your reservations. The feeling seemed to be mutual; Steve didn’t seem to care for you much either with how cold and distant he could be. And still, you find yourself spending a large chunk of your time sitting in the silence of Steve’s room by yourself, willing him to wake up.  

When it’s just you, though, you pull the chair in the corner of the room closer to his bed, and grasp his hand in yours, whispering soft encouragements to him, even though you’re not sure he can hear you, “Don’t give up now, Steve.” 

With each passing day, you lose a bit of hope. Eddie, who had suffered an arguably worse attack from the demobats, had woken up quickly. Max, who the doctors still don’t know if she’ll fully recover, is making conversation sometimes, even though she sleeps most of the day. The doctors think that on top of being attacked and bitten like Eddie, maybe Steve had just worn himself too thin. He had been attacked, and then carried on like nothing had happened. He’d winced as Eddie’s rough denim vest slid over his bitten back and arms, but hadn’t said anything else. You still don’t know Steve very well, but you saw how much he pushed himself to keep everyone else safe. And now everyone was worried he’d pushed himself past his breaking point. That he might not recover. 

One day, Dustin bursts into Max’s room with a breathless gasp of your name, eyes wide. Your heart races, and you know that something has happened, though you have no idea if it’s good or bad. Dustin’s eyes dart from you to Max, and then back to you, “Sorry to interrupt, I just— Steve’s finally awake.” 

“He is?!” Max asks, an urgency in her voice you haven’t heard before. 

Dustin nods, still looking at you intently. The way he’s looking at you gives you a funny feeling, and your stomach turns as he murmurs your name again and adds, “He’s asking for you.” 

“Me?” you ask, jaw dropping as you balk at your younger friend. You can’t imagine why Steve would ask for you, of all people. 

He nods again, “He won’t… All he can ask for is you. Won’t say anything other than your name.” 

You glance at Max, who quickly nods, and you shoot up out of your seat, following Dustin out of her room and down the hall to Steve’s room. There’s a bit more commotion behind the door than you’ve seen in a while, and it causes you to freeze. You’re not sure what you’ll find in there. Dustin notices your hesitation, the way your hand pauses at the handle. He knows about the moments you’d had with Steve, when no one else was around. It had been an accident, really, when he’d opened the door, and found you bent over Steve’s bedside, grasping his hand tightly in yours like you never wanted to let go. At the time, he’d quickly and quietly backed out of the room, but stored that bit of information in the back of his head for later. He knew the dynamic between you and Steve was odd, but he also knew that Steve cared about you, even if he hadn’t known how to show it. “It’s okay,” he assures, nodding to you, “He asked for you.”

Sucking in a deep breath, you nod and push open the door to find that Steve really is awake, and is half-sitting up in bed. He’s still connected to quite a few wires, and there are a bunch of nurses surrounding the bed, checking his vitals, but he’s awake. He’s awake, and he’s alive. You let out a soft gasp, hand flying to your mouth, as you breathe out his name, “Steve.” 

You’re not quite sure how he heard you, your voice had barely been above a whisper, but Steve’s head whips to the doorway, eyes going wide when he sees you there. His voice is raspy from not using it for a while as he croaks out your name. 

“Steve,” you say again, louder this time as you start across the room, “You… you’re okay. You’re awake.”

A few of the nurses step away, realizing that you’re the person he’d been asking for, letting you step up to his bed. Steve cracks a tight smile, and he nods, “Yeah, I am. At least I think I’m awake… this isn’t a dream, right?” 

Laughing a little, you shake your head, “No, not a dream. This is real. Are you…” You trail off, not even sure what you were going to ask, and your hand pauses it’s descent to Steve’s arm. You’d held his hand frequently while he was out, but you’re not sure he’d want you touching him now. Instead, you let out a soft sigh and ask, “How are you feeling?”

“Umm… you know. Weird. Everything… everything hurts.” His voice is still scratchy, and he stumbles over his words with a wince, eyebrows drawing together and nose scrunching up. “Shit.”

“Shit,” you echo softly, sinking into the same chair you’d already spent many hours in over the last few days. The same chair you’d sat in only an hour ago, begging Steve to wake up for the millionth time. Your eyes dart down to your lap where your fingers pick at a piece of fraying denim. For some reason, your voice comes out shaky when you speak again, “I-I’m glad you’re awake, Steve. Dustin, he—“

Steve cuts you off abruptly, unable to help himself from blurting out, “I heard you, you know.”

You feel like the air has been sucked out of your lungs, and the only thing you can think of saying is, “What?”

“While I… while I was out, I could still hear everything. When people were talking to me and stuff. I heard the things you were saying. About the kids, and Max and Eddie. And… about me not giving up, needing me to wake up.”

Heat rushes to your face, and no matter how far you sink into your chair, it won’t swallow you whole, unfortunately. Unsure of what to say, you pull one foot up off of the floor, hugging your knee to your chest, and press your cheek into your shoulder in an attempt to hide. You can’t look at Steve as you reply, “Oh… Steve, I—”

He interrupts you again, voice as firm as it can be in his current state, “Thank you.”

Your gaze snaps up to meet his, eyebrows drawn together in confusion. Shaking your head slightly, you murmur, “What for?”

“For caring.” This time, Steve is the first to look away as he tilts his head back against his pillows, eyelashes fluttering as he blinks rapidly. “I mean, I know those twerps care, and Robin and Nance, too, but… I don’t know. Means a lot that you care even when you don’t particularly like me.”

“Steve, I don’t—“ you pause, taking a moment to collect yourself, and then scoot the chair you’re sitting in closer to his bed. “In high school, yeah, I wasn’t particularly fond of you.” Steve opens his mouth to say something, but you keep talking, “But you’re a different person now, I think. I hope. Max is like a little sister to me, so seeing how much you care about her — how much you did to protect her — means a lot.”

A soft pink springs to Steve’s cheeks, crawling up to his ears as he stares at you. He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth and nods, glancing away again, “I am. A completely different person, I mean. I-I’m sorry if I was ever awful to you in high school. How… how is Max, by the way?” 

You wave your hand in the air, dismissing Steve’s worries. Whatever had happened in high school was behind you now. His question, though, makes you realize that the still doesn’t know everything, and that you’re taking up all of his time. “She’s okay. I mean, she’s alive. Not totally herself, though. I can— I don’t want to take up all of your time, I’m sure you’d rather talk to Robin or Dustin or Max. I’ll see if a nurse can bring Max to your room.” 

As you stand up to leave, Steve’s hand darts out, fingers catching yours to stop you from moving. You notice a flash of pain on his face as he outstretches his arm towards you and mumbles, “Stay.” 

“Okay,” you nod quickly, not wanting him to push himself any further, and drop back down into your chair next to him, “Okay, I’ll stay. Don’t hurt yourself on my behalf, Harrington.” 

Steve huffs out a laugh in an attempt to mask the pain on his face. Instead of saying anything, though, he asks, “What about Munson? I was worried he wouldn’t make it when we got to him.” 

“Oh, Eddie’s fine. They treated him, and he was begging to be up on his feet after like two days. He’s still here, his room is down the hall, but he’s doing well. Maybe I could ask for you guys to room together?” You finish with a mischievous grin, and don’t realize that the pad of your thumb is rubbing back and forth across the top of Steve’s hand. 

“Oh, god, please don’t,” Steve groans with a grimace, nose wrinkling, “Turns out I don’t mind the guy, but I think he’d drive me insane in here.”

Letting out a small laugh, you nod in agreement, “I know what you mean. But it’s actually been good to have him around, he’s been keeping everyone’s spirits up.”

“Has it been bad?” Steve asks after a beat of silence, pursing his lips slightly, eyebrows furrowing together.

“Steve, no one was sure when — or if, quite frankly — you’d wake up.”

“Oh.” His voice is small as the reality of the situation starts to set in, “I didn’t realize.” 

“Needless to say, we’re all glad you’re awake,” you murmur in reply, your gaze set on him.

It’s quiet again as Steve glances down to where your fingers are still intertwined with his, but he can’t find it in himself to pull back. Just as he’s about to reply, the door to Steve’s room flies open, the handle nearly banging into the wall as Robin bursts in, eyes wide and voice frantic, “Steve!” 

The two of you jump in surprise, your hands flying apart as you scramble backwards into your chair. 

Robin looks and sounds nearly angry, but you know she’s on the verge of tears as she rushes across the room, pointing at Steve, “You just had to wake up the one time I went home, didn’t you, you asshole?! If you ever scare me like that again, Steven, so help me god—“ 

Steve grins, wincing once more as he pushes himself further up in bed, and Robin gives him a hug that you’re worried will cause him even more pain. You’ve come to learn that Robin is quite the talker, and she’s quick to launch into a rant — something about how worried she’s been, and updating Steve on everything that’s happened. 

You know that your conversation with Steve is done for now, and start moving towards the door. He notices, giving you an apologetic look over Robin’s shoulder — a fleeting look before turning his full attention back to his best friend. It’s only a moment, but you have a feeling there’s much more to be discussed at a later time. You'd sit by his bed all day, if he asked.

And he does ask for you again, only an hour later.

[junkissed]

pov he just finished blowing your back out and giving you head and now he’s watching you come down from your high while he waits for you to whine and beg him to come back to bed so he can fuck you dumb (or fuck you to sleep, which ever comes first… but probably both)

why are you so mean to me 💔💔😞....

member — dom!junhui x reader word count — 555 warnings — descriptions of female anatomy, nicknames (princess, darling, good girl, pretty girl), there's no sex but there's like. sensual touching ig you could call it

jun stands off to the side of the room, running his hands through his hair by the long, gilded mirror on the mantle. in the reflection he can see you, still laying flat against the bed, fucked out of your mind as you struggle to recover from the orgasms he’s just given you.

he watches your chest heave with each shallow breath, trying to force your brain to catch up with the rest of your aching body. a thin sheen of sweat glistens on your skin and your hair is a tangled mess. you keep your eyes tightly shut out from the rest of the world as your cunt throbs, and you can hear your heartbeat in your ears.

when you’ve finally recovered enough to sit up, he turns around from the mirror.

“did you have a nice little break, my princess?” he coos, his tone just barely condescending. “are you done for the night?”

“no— jun, please, need you,” you gasp out, still struggling as you haven’t fully caught your breath. “come back to bed.”

“more?” he says, raising an eyebrow, but he walks over and sits down beside you at the edge of the bed. “but i’ve given you so much already. my baby still needs more?”

you fall back against the sheets again with a whine. “yes, please. always want more of you, junnie.”

he pouts, a look of faux-concern on his face. “but are you sure you can take it? you’re already so worn out.”

you shake your head quickly. “no ‘m not! not tired at all. you’ve barely even fucked me yet.”

you both know that’s a lie. he’s fucked you in so many positions tonight, it would rival a professional’s gymnastics routine.

his eyes darken as he slides around onto the bed. he climbs on top of you and lets his cock rest against your stomach as he straddles your hips, the tip still glistening from the night’s previous rounds. “is this what you want, my darling? want me to fuck you stupid?”

you whimper out another “please”, reaching up to grab at his biceps and trying to pull him back down closer to you. his muscles are smooth and firm in your grip, and you swallow a moan at just the feeling of him.

“now that’s a good girl,” he says as he runs his own large hands up and down your body, squeezing your breasts and grinning when he sees your eyes wrench shut and hears soft whines fall from your lips.

every inch of your body aches from how long you two have been going at it, but even after so many hours of pleasure you’re still insatiable. yet you find yourself struggling for words, unable to form a coherent thought.

“tell me what you want, pretty girl, and i’ll give it to you.”

all you can do is whimper and plead with him, rambled begging as if it’s been weeks since you’ve cum, when in reality it’s been just minutes.

he just knows exactly what you want, what you like, and he knows exactly how to give it to you that’ll leave you a babbling, exhausted, satisfied mess.

he smiles with pride as you get more and more desperate, knowing he hasn’t even really done anything with you yet. oh no, he’s just getting started.

i hope you enjoyed this!! if you did, consider reblogging with tags or leaving a comment or an ask :) it shows me this is something people want to see more of, and knowing people like this makes me want to write more of it! thanks for reading!!

> drabble taglist | @wonderfulshinee @noniestars @onlymingyus @just-here-to-read-01 @wonuziex @enhacolor @yourfavoritefreakyhan @dkakapizzaboy @skzzooyaaa @zozojella @rainyjeno @jwnghyuns @uwuheeseungie @miriamxsworld @synthetickitsune

> strikethrough means your blog cannot be tagged, please check your visibility settings

> if you’d like to update your taglist preferences to add or remove yourself from my “short drabbles” taglist, you can fill out my form here: join my taglist here!

[urdrowning]

reconcile / l. williamson

AN i apologise for the quality. i am very much hungover as i write this. and idc if its mid february let me use this christmas gif my girl is ADORABLE my god i need to be in leah williamson’s arms RN

requested? - yes

word count - 2.5k (i’m proud of that)

—————

sarina had finally announced the england squad for the AC cup. you were elated to see you’re name listed. having recently recovered from a broken ankle, you were barely getting playtime. it’s as if nobody believes you’re truly fully healed, especially with jonas keeping you as pretty much a permanent bench warmer. knowing that sarina trusts you and you’re abilities is like a wash of relief and you’re over the moon. you assumed leah, your girlfriend, would be celebrating with you, as she’s repeatedly campaigned for your wellness and ability. but now it feels like it’s all been a lie.

you were out visiting your best friend, alex scott when you found out, she unsuccessfully attempts to lift you up in a hug of congratulations due to her shorter stature. you thank her before you realise that you have to go home and tell your girlfriend (even though she already knows, she’s on the same squad. but she’d pretend to act shocked for you anyway) excitement rushes through you as you practically ran to your car and sped home (which may result in a speeding ticket, but who cares, you’re gonna be playing for england).

rushing into your shared flat with a giant smile on your face to tell your lover the news, you’re greeted with a frown on her face before she utters

“you can’t do it y/n, you’re not ready.”

the smile drops from your face and it makes leah’s stomach twist with guilt, but she refuses to let it show and remains staring at you with a stern gaze.

“you.. i- what?”

you spluttered in shock. where did this come from? for several weeks she’s been by your side, fighting for you to get playtime.

“you can’t do it. you’re not ready to play in a tournament like this yet.”

your pride seems to shrink as you begin to fill with anger. how could she? all of her support and for what? just to belittle you and your abilities?

“are.. are you serious right now, leah?”

you hated this. you’re not a fan of conflict in general, but with your girlfriend? a nightmare. the thought of her being angry with you making your world feel as if it’s shattering.

but the anger that courses through you almost crushes the dread you feel, you’re justified in this argument, she isn’t.

“dead serious. you need to call up sarina and tell her you can’t compete. you’re not ready and sarina should’ve realised that”

she sighs. she hates this as much as you do. she hates to be the reason you’re upset, but she is adamant in her opinion.

“why? why, leah, am i not ready? because i have been working my ass off for weeks and you know this!”

you’re raising your voice, making her wince slightly, it goes unnoticed by you due to your unbridled anger and she scoffs at your lack of empathy as she snaps at you

“because you’re not capable enough! there’s a reason you haven’t been getting playtime you know, it's because you’re not trusted, y/n! you’ll slip on your ass and injure yourself again, you’ll put the whole fucking team in jeopardy, and i’m not ready to lose because of you being a loose end.”

word after word is like a stab in the gut. hearing it from a normal teammate? painful. but hearing it from your girlfriend? agonising.

“oh.”

you try to hide how your voice is raw with emotion, but you know it’s a futile attempt. she hears it anyway. she reaches out for you slightly.

“y/n..”

you move away from her touch, cold and distant. you don’t look at her, your gaze fixated on the floor. you know that one look in her blue eyes and you’re gonna break.

“don’t. just.. don’t.”

your voice shakes as you move away. you can’t be here right now. you can’t be around leah.

so, what do you do? you grab your car keys, turn towards the door and leave. leah doesn’t move. she doesn’t try to stop you. she’s dug her grave, she may as well lay in it.

you sit in your car for at least 6 minutes before you start the engine. tears fall from your eyes and warm your face. it feels as if your heart has been ripped out of your chest, you feel as if you’ve been stabbed in the back. out of all the people to doubt you, leah? the person you love most? why did it have to be her.

you wipe the tears off of you, take a deep breathe and drive. you don’t know where you’re headed, all you know is that you need to be away from leah.

why you ended up at alex’s house once again is beyond you. but here you are, sat on your bestfriends sofa, crying in her arms.

“i’m sorry, y/n. she’s being an absolute dickhead. you’re more than capable and she should know that better than anyone.”

she holds you tightly as she rants. vehemently disagreeing with leah, defending you so passionately. it’s as if she retired from playing as a defender in football to become your own personal defender instead.

“i appreciate it al but in all honesty i’d rather forget about it. i’m tired, i just wanna scream into a pillow for the rest of the night.”

she laughs lightly as she releases you from her tight grip, nodding at you.

“you know where the spare room is. stay as long as you need, okay? love you”

she truly means it, and although it’s not what you need, the small statement makes you feel a bit better.

“thank you, al, love you too. night.”

she squeezes your arm lightly, mumbles goodnight and leaves you to your own devices. you sniffle slightly and head for alex’s spare room. which has practically become your bedroom with the amount of times you’ve stayed here.

the minute you walk in you can do nothing but collapse on the bed, the past few hours have been a whirlwind of emotions and it’s drained you of any energy you possessed. you glance at your phone to check the time, only to be greeted by your lock screen, a photo of you and leah. she’s hugging you from behind, kissing your cheek as you close your eyes, smiling. you groan at the image as it causes more tears to spring to your eyes, you attempt to block the photo with your hand as you check the time to see that it’s only 5:54 pm. you sigh and contemplate your options.

you could either, stay in the room, look at photos of leah, cry and binge watch pitch perfect. or, you could simply just sleep and pretend that today’s fight never even happened.

you choose the latter, as the crushing weight of reality is too much to deal with.

…

so maybe sleeping it off wasn’t the best idea you’ve had.

after about 5 minutes of you forcing your eyes shut, and trying to force your mind to be calm. you realised that you can’t sleep without leah’s presence which then causes you to get emotional again at just the thought of her (you’re a little unstable there babes, but it’s okay, we don’t blame you!)

you text alex, asking her to come hold you again. you can hear the thumps of her footsteps before she opens the door and slides onto the bed

“i’m sorry about this.”

she smacks you playfully. opens her arms for you. you slot yourself into her arms and sigh. it’s nice, but it isn’t leah.

“don’t apologise, y/n. you’re my bestfriend. i’m here for you.”

you murmur a thank you as your eyes grow heavy. the emotional exhaustion mixed with the comfort of you’re best friends touch sends you into a deep sleep.

——————

you wake up to raised voices, the sounds making your newfound headache 10x as painful.

memories of the previous day flood your mind as you sit up in bed, you feel better after having rested, but still, the memory of the fight and what was said crushes on you.

shaking your head to clear yourself of your thoughts, you try to listen in to the voices from outside your door.

“i don’t trust that you won’t snap on her again though”

that’s alex, she has a protective tone to her voice

“i won’t. just, please. let me speak to her.”

you’d recognise that voice anywhere. anxiety fills you as you realise that she’s hunted you down. of course she has. you ran out on her. she’s probably come to end things with you officially.

you hear alex sigh.

“.. fine. but if you upset her, you’re out.”

of course she managed to find you. of course you would go to alex’s house. leah knows you better than you know yourself. she’s your other half, and now you’re about to lose that. it’s crazy that even after all the horrendous things she said to you yesterday, you’re sat here in anxiety about HER leaving YOU. god, the grip this woman has on you is insane.

a knock on the door ceases your inner monologue.

“come in.”

you cringe at the sound of your voice. the hoarseness of it is not at all pleasant.

the door starts to open and you see her shadow before you see her. your mind goes to overdrive. this is it, the end of the best 4 years of your life. she steps in the room and she’s holding something behind her back, you close your eyes, not wanting to see the box of your things she’s most likely collected. you’re not ready for this to be over, not willing to accept your reality. with a sigh, you open your eyes slowly to see that instead of a box, she’s holding.. flowers?

“for you.”

she looks shy. you look confused. if the tension from yesterdays argument wasn’t there, you’d have both laughed at each others faces. but instead you glance at the flowers in her hand. red and yellow tulips, your favourite.

you take them from her, clutching them tightly, you whisper a thank you.

“leah, what are you doing here-“

she cuts you off, talking quickly.

“i need to talk to you, will you hear me out? please, just listen to me.”

you nod, gesturing for her to continue. you won’t talk, you’ll let her say what she needs to say. you’re not in the wrong here, she is.

“y/n, i- .. i’m so sorry. i love you, i love you so so much and i am so sorry. you have every right in the world to be angry with me, i mean shit, i’m angry with myself. i can’t believe i let my emotions take control of me, i don’t think you’re a burden. you’re everything to me.”

she’s nervous as she speaks, stammering and playing with her fingers. it reminds you of when she first asked you on a date, over 4 years ago, she was shaking with nerves.

your voice is small when you speak, taking her words into account but also remembering the cause of the argument itself.

“so why did you say those things leah? why don’t you think i’m good enough to play?”

she frowns and shakes her head, her eyes are looking at your hands, clutching the flowers she’d given you tightly.

“i should never have said anything like that. you’re more than capable of playing, i mean hell, you’re incredible. i was just being selfish.”

she’s determined. she’s got a mission in her mind, and leah’s too competitive to give up on her mission. she’s not going to stop trying to earn your forgiveness.

“selfish?”

you’re even more confused. you can’t begin to understand.

“yeah, selfish. y/n, you mean the world to me. i love you more than i love anything. when you first broke your ankle during the match against chelsea and i saw you get carried off on that stretcher.. it was awful. seeing you in pain, it scared me so much. i know you’re healed now, but i’m scared, i don’t want you to get hurt again. i cant stand seeing you in pain and suffering.”

you sit there and process what she’s told you. taking in all the information, her fear of your health.

“my god leah, you need to learn how to be straightforward.”

you laugh at her. you need to teach her how to communicate better. she lets out a laugh. you’re not sure whether it’s because of your joke or if it’s out of pure relief, but the sight of her smile is enough for you to not question it.

“maybe i do.”

she smiles at you, still standing infront of the bed, looking at you. suddenly aware of how awkwardly she’s been stood there, you roll your eyes at her as you reach over to grab the hem of her shirt.

“get over here, idiot.”

you don’t have to tell her twice, she gets into the bed and melts into your arms. she buries her face on your chest as her arms wrap around your middle. you rest your head on the top of her own, gently stroking her back as you lay together. a contented sigh leaves her.

“i was so nervous. i was worried you’d not want to ever see me again.”

you smile slightly, both glad to know that you weren’t alone in your worries and glad that she values you so greatly, that she fears the thought of not having you in her life.

“not a chance, we’ve got too many plans together. i can’t really become y/n williamson on my own, can i?”

leah lifts her head from your chest as she moves her hand to cup your cheek. she gazes at you with an enamoured look in her eyes.

“i adore you, y/n.”

she leans in and your lips meet. kissing leah is unreal, her lips fit against your own perfectly, and almost every kiss with her is as special as your first. she pours so much passion into the kiss, as if she’s trying to portray how much love she has for you through it. you move a hand to her hair as the kiss deepens. you’re both in a world of bliss until a sock smacks the side of both your faces.

“oh no, you are NOT doing this in my house!”

alex stands in the doorway, hands on her hips looking like a very disgusted mother.

“ugh, alex! what’s wrong with you!”

you groan, your face flushed with embarrassment as you bury it in leah’s shoulder. leah laughs at you, her face flushed with both embarrassment of being caught and excitement of being with you.

“come on y/n, let’s go home, yeah? i’ve got some more presents for you back in our flat.”

she gets up and offers her hand towards you, you take it, smiling.

“gladly.”

[panic-flavored]

I keep imagining some robotnik superior showing up unexpectedly in his lab and being like "🤨...Wait there are three mermai... *stone kills him*

I plan on writing a fic about this eventually, but I've been short on time lately 😭 Long story short, Robotnik moves Stone to an underwater lab he's been building to save him from being un-alived by the government, and at roughly the same time they find out Stone is pregnant. So fortunately the merfamily is totally safe! Here's a blurb from the WIP of that fic, since it probably won't be posted for a while:

---

The words echo off the lifeless conference room walls and rattle around unpleasantly in Robotnik’s brain. They are not words Robotnik wants to hear, and if he’s being honest, some time ago he’d forgotten that he’d ever have to hear them in the first place.

“Doctor?” Commander Walters offers Robotnik an appropriately concerned frown. “Did you hear me?”

Robotnik clears his throat, refocusing. “No, uh- no. I must have spaced out. Say that one more time for me.” He heard him loud and clear, of course, but he wants to pick through it one more time, see if there are any loopholes or contradictions he can take advantage of to be found in the words.

“Oh, sure… I understand, I’m sure you’ve been working around the clock lately.” Commander Walters says. “I said that if you’ve acquired all the data you can from the living specimen, it’s time to turn him over to the autopsy team. It’s still your project of course, so you can be as involved as you’d like to be going forward. But after six months of research, I think it’s safe to say we can–” here, Walters does that annoying rotating motion with both of his pointer fingers, “--wrap it up.”

Robotnik feels a little bit sick. Furious, mostly, but the sour heaviness in his guts is close to making him gag. Has it been six months already? Back then, this plan didn’t bother Robotnik in the slightest. When he first stormed into the biology lab to assert himself as the project leader, he didn’t care how injured and malnourished Stone was - Stone wasn’t Stone back then, he was the ‘specimen’. Robotnik hadn’t chewed out the pitiful scientists over their subpar treatment of Stone because he’d worried about Stone’s safety, it was because they’d compromised the scientific process. There was no sense in researching a living subject if that subject was too weak and sick to move, after all.

Obviously Robotnik’s opinion had changed rather quickly. He’d been told that the ‘merman’ wasn’t intelligent, wasn’t sentient. That he was mindless and violent. Fools. Almost as soon as Robotnik dismissed the rest of the team, it became apparent none of that was true. Stone quickly proved himself to be highly intelligent, learning ASL almost as fast as Robotnik once had. He was complex, loyal, and terribly interesting. He saw the world so differently than anyone Robotnik had ever met. 

This is a very wordy way of saying that Robotnik fell in love, even if he hated framing it in such a simplistic, childish way.

Stone fell first, to be fair. He’d marked Robotnik, he claimed him, they were mates and now Robotnik is hearing another person say that Stone needs to be killed and torn open soon. It all seems so surreal. 

“You can’t just put a time limit on science, Commander,” Robotnik says icily. “Six months is nothing. I haven’t even had ample time to study his metabolic rate yet, it’s vastly different from a humans–” “Six months was your estimation, not mine,” Walters counters. “When you took over the project, that was your projected timeframe.”

Robotnik inwardly kicks himself. He originally gave himself six months to ensure he had a comfortable cushion of time, but he’d been positive four months is all it would take to collect all the necessary data before passing Stone off to another team. 

“Well if it hadn’t taken two months for the creature to fully recover from what those amateurs did to it before I arrived, I would have been done by now!” Robotnik growls. It hadn’t taken two months for Stone to recover, but it seemed a believable amount of time to a person who isn’t personally familiar with how quickly merpeople heal. “Why do you think I’ve been ‘working around the clock’, Commander? Making up for lost time!”

Walters frowns in consideration, rubbing a knuckle thoughtfully against his stubbly chin. “Ah yes, I remember reading about that in your initial reports. I hadn’t considered how much that may have set you back. In that case, I’ll give you another two months to finish your research, Doctor. Does that sound fair?”

It takes Robotnik less than a second to run the numbers, the estimations and impromptu simulations - yes, he could certainly finish his work in two months. Not the work Walters was expecting him to finish, obviously. Something much, much more important. “Two months sounds more than fair, Commander.”

[jjsfavgirl]

Hellooooo sweetheart! It's me again this idea has been stuck into my mind for so long so i've wanted to send you this request🫶🏻

So reader keep asking jj to get her a bunny but he keeps saying no and she won't stop complaining and whining until jj finally give in and buy her one which looks like reader 💕 thanks youuu!

Bunny

I love this idea!! Also I deeply apologise if this sucks or for the spelling mistakes I went out to a party earlier and haven’t fully sobered up yet:) Ty for this request girl. 🫶🏻

JJ Maybank x bunny!reader

Warnings: pet names.

-

“But look how cute they are!!” You squealed, flashing JJ the cute bunny on your phone, the same ones that flooded your Pinterest boards .

“Absolutely not.” He muttered, not even bothered to glance at the small animal on your phone.

“Why?” You pouted, turning your phone back to you in order to scroll through even more cute photos.

“Because you only want one because they look cute.” He began,taking his attention off the tv and looking at your pouted lips. “You’ll sit with it on the sofa and take cute photos and I’ll be cleaning up its shit.”

“Fine, might as well just say you don’t love me.”

-

“Jayyyy?” You stretched out, walking outside the château to see your boyfriend changing the oil on his bike.

“Yes,bunny?” He looked up from his bike to smile at your, your hands behind your back making him know you wanted something.

“Bunny?” You giggled, covering your mouth in order to hide your wide grin.

“All your talk about wanting a bunny gave me the idea of your new nickname.” He grinned, walking over to me and pulling me into a firm hug as he placed a kiss on your scalp.

“Speaking of?” You spoke as you looked up at the blonde boy with sincere puppy dog eyes.

“Nope.” He replied, pulling away from you and walking back to his bike as your eyes rolled so far into the back of your skull you’re surprised they came back to meet the blonde boy again.

-

(Texting JJ)

Hey Bun! What you up to? 🫶🏻

Just looking at bunnies I want to buy:)

So it’s bunnies plural now?

Yes!

You still want one of those?😒

Duh!🥹

You’re in luck princess! Be there in five! :)

JJ? What???

Read 15:43

-

Just like JJ had told you, you heard three knocos on your door causing you to hop off from your white fluffy bed and spri towards your front door, a bright smile appearing on your face as you spotting those oh so familiar blonde locks through the slightly transparent glass.

Somehow, your bright smile grew even wider as you spotted your blue eyed boyfriend cradling a fluffy brown bunny.

“Oh my god” You cried, running up to take the bunny off him, no,dong it close to your chest as you kissed and cooed at the soft creature. “Jay.” You pouted, “You really did this for me?”

“I’d do anything for you, bunny.”

-

Sorry this took so long I’m still recovering from my hangover as I said :) enjoy!