#i will Never let go of the idea that he’s acting out like this again because of clock being gone. why else would it happeknIMMERIWTELY after
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You have mentioned, I think, a few times of the humans trying to avoid being sick. How would the bots react to their human being sick?
I'm just sick atm, you don't have to do anything if you don't want too
Dealing with the Human Being Sick Headcanons
TFP Soundwave x Reader
• Pausing in his typing when you make a noise he’s never heard, his helm tips toward your tiny frame. A tendril lifting as you curl into a ball, your little frame shaking as you keep making that violent noise. Drawing your knees up to your body as he loops his tendril about you, feeling those wracking sounds. And he’s bending over you, the side of his helm bumping your head. Because as soon as he touches you, that misery comes through loud and clear.
• Blinking up at Soundwave, even with no expression, it’s obvious your coughing is worrying him. “Think I’m getting sick,” you manage and he bumps you again, tendril curling tighter around you. Whatever he was working forgotten as he fusses over you, his other tendril whipping about to find and bring you every one of your blankets, pillows, any soft thing he’s ever gotten you and piling them up around you. Dragging water and food nearby, his helm lifting to look around like he’s trying to find anything else to give you and it’s so sweet, because he obviously isn’t sure what to do, but he’s trying. Settling yourself against the coil of the tendril, you tip your head to press a kiss against him when he tries to bump you with his helm again, feeling him freeze. “Thank you.”
IDW Prowl x Reader
• “Stop acting like a sparkling.” Hooking an arm around you, he drags you into his lap and grits his denta when you smack a palm against his jaw and try to shove him away. Do you have any idea how much energy mass shifting takes? “Behave,” he snarls, arms tightening around you, chin on top of your head until you finally give up and slump into his warmth. The shivering doesn’t stop, though. Servos finding bare skin, it’s a surprise to find you sweaty and much warmer to the touch than normal.
• “It’s a fever, you idiot,” he mutter, too exhausted to keep struggling against him. Why else would you have stripped down to your underclothes when he knows you can’t stand how cold his quarters are? He hadn’t bothered to ask, just frowning down at where you’d sprawled out on your belly, soaking in how cold his berth is against your feverish skin. And he’d dropped a blanket on you, scowling when you’d immediately slung it off and glared up at him. “I’m fine.” Venting against you to stir your hair, he refuses to let you go, practically wrapping himself around you when you’re already sweating and miserable. Like he’s worried and actually cares. Smothering you. “Some soup would be awesome,” you mutter, and it works. He lets you go, mass shifting to go hunt for a can as you snort. Hopefully there’s none in the Ark and you can sleep while he’s busy searching.
TFP Shockwave x Reader
• “Thirteen?” You’re usually awake by now, but you’re still curled up in the corner of your cage, your blanket tangled around your legs. It’s the rasping sound of your breathing that freezes him in reaching for you, because that sound isn’t normal. Almost wet sounding as your eyes open, head turning to stare up at him. Not smiling for him and his servos begin to tremble, the illogical chaos he keeps so carefully locked away, seeping out. Because something is wrong.
• He’s stuck again, unmoving aside from that faint tremor in his servos and the antenna on his helm flicking. You’ve seen it before, but usually he shakes it off. Covering your mouth as a cough shakes you, it’s an effort to sit up when you feel so awful. His one optic is flaring brighter, servos of his hand now flexing in almost spasms. “Shockwave?” Getting to your feet, you reach for him and he pulls away, that cannon powering up and lifting as his antenna go all the way back, head scanning the room like he’s looking for threats. Like he doesn’t know where he is and your breath catches. “Hey, can you get me some water? My throat’s raw,” you call out, trying to break him from whatever this is, because he’s scaring you. And slowly, his optic dims some and he looks down. Coming back to you as the danger passes.
IDW Starscream x Reader
• Fussing over you, his wings flick as he finds another blanket to tuck around you. “Fragile organics,” he mutters, using scorn to hide how much it upsets him, because he doesn’t know what to do. How to fix this. And you just curl into the nest he’s made you, absently reaching to pat his hand. Like everything is fine. Do you need a medic? Anything he can get you to make this stop? Because he hates feeling useless.
• Squinting up at Starscream as he adjusts your blankets again, you find his fidgeting too sweet, warmth spreading through you that he’s so worried about you. “It’s a cold. I’m fine,” you tell him for the third time, knowing he doesn’t quite believe you as he just vents before scooping you up blankets and all and relocating you to his desk. Apparently intending to sit and watch over you as he props his chin on his fist, optics running over you as he reaches to stroke your hair. So much for resting, but he means well.
IDW Bluestreak x Reader
• “Blue, I’m okay. Really,” you rasp, clinging to his servos as he completely ignores you in his panic, running for medbay with you tangled in the blankets you’d been sleeping in. It doesn’t matter that it’s just a cold, because he apparently thinks you’re going to die on him.
• Cradling you against him, he can feel how hot your skin is and can hear you reassuring him. Knows he needs to calm down, but fear has him by the throat. All those what ifs. Maybe you’re wrong, maybe it’s something dangerous and he might lose you if he doesn’t act right now. And he can’t risk it, needs you. So you’re going to Ratchet, because he needs to be sure you’re okay. You took care of him, now it’s his turn. You have to be okay.
TF Earthspark Megatron x Reader
• He can feel the judgment in Dorothy’s stare as he sits in the modified barn near the air mattress you’re sprawled on. Knows he should have let the Malto’s carry you in the house, but wanted you within sight. Within reach as his servos brush your throat and he watches Dorothy set down a tray with a bowl of soup, firmly telling him that this is the best medicine for a cold. It’s not that he doesn’t believe her, he just hates to see you so miserable, unable to help you.
• Feeling those gentle servos touching your cheek, your hair, you relax. Can hear that deep, rumbling brogue of his as you drift in and out. It’s only a cold, nothing major, but you can’t deny it’s nice to have someone worrying over you, taking care of you. Because it’s been a long time since someone’s worried over you like this, probably since you were a kid.
#transformers x reader#starscream x reader#soundwave x reader#ratchet x reader#megatron x reader#shockwave x reader#bluestreak x reader
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CLIMB THROUGH MY WINDOW
PART THREE — [fuckboy!chris x smart!reader. alcohol, drugs, blowjob]. somethings changed between you and chris, but you’re a smart girl and you know what it is — telling yourself to ignore how you feel and what’s going on.
ʚ part one ɞ — ʚ part two ɞ
you walk around the house, desperately looking for bella. “oh my god, where have you been?” she looks up at you from her position on a random couch, her words slurring slightly. “i was with chris.” you mumble watching as her expression shifts to a sly grin.
you roll your eyes at her insinuation. “shut up.” you huff, sitting down next to her.
“have you just been sat here alone?” you ask, subtly changing the subject. she scoffs, taking another swig of her drink which she definitely didn't need. “no- i was making out with some guy, but he left to get himself a drink.” she explains, her words a little jumbled.
you raise your eyebrows. “oooh, who is this guy?” you question, showing more interest in the hopes she doesn’t ask about chris. but she shuts it down, clearly more interested in your life than talking about her own.
“did you finally fuck him?” she asks, blurting out the words. you drop the act, letting out a sigh. “no, i didn't.” you mumble, pausing as you hesitate to continue. “he went down on me.” you add quietly.
she lets out a shriek, before gasping and grabbing your arm. “oh my god, was it good?” she leans in, whispering the last part.
you look over at her before slowly nodding your head, unable to hold back the grin on your face. her hand tightens on your arm. “holy shit! that good?” she questions, knowing that the way you responded meant it must’ve been really fucking good.
“would you calm down?” you usher, looking around to make sure no one was witnessing this interaction. she pulls back, a guilty look on her face as she motions locking her lips.
“so when are you having sex?” she says quietly, clearly not abiding to shutting up. you roll your eyes at her nagging questions. to be honest, you had no idea, so you hesitate to answer.
“do you think your parents are having any effect on this?” she asks carefully. you frown. “what no?!” you exclaim wanting to deny it to the ends of the earth. but then you think, looking down as you fiddle with the bottom of your skirt. “i know i'm not gonna go to hell for having sex before marriage.” you mumble out.
bella sighs, leaning into your space. “yeah i know you know that- you’re not fuckin stupid.” you let out a little sigh at her reassuring yet slightly inconsiderate words.
“i'm sayin, maybe you don’t wanna disappoint them.” she elaborates.
you think for a second, her words taking you back a little. did she just completely hit the nail on the head? no, because you were gonna have sex with chris. right?
“i wouldn't disappoint them.” you mumble out. “cause i wouldn’t tell them.” you explain, trying your hardest to rationalise against bella.
“so you’re saying you wouldn’t feel even a little guilty?” she pushes, holding her thumb and her index ever so close together.
you turn to her, pushing away her hand. “what do you know, you’re just a drunk girl with too many talking rights.” you mutter playfully.
she scoffs at your words slumping back against the couch as she crosses her arms over her chest. “wow.” she scoffs again, shaking her head. “i can't believe this.” she mumbles dramatically.
she continues to complain, incoherently mumbling about how she was completely right and you were just stubborn.
but you weren’t listening.
your attention was fixed on chris who you had spotted across the room. it’s like your mind and body just knew when he appeared, your gaze automatically shifting to him like an alert had gone off in your brain.
you usually looked a few times, took note of what he was doing and then returned your attention back to whatever you were doing.
but this time you were unable to look away, your stomach turning at the sight of him talking to another girl.
it’s not like you’d never seen him do this before, in fact you’d probably be able to completely mimic the way he flirts just by the copious amount of times you've seen him do it.
what made you feel nauseous right now wasn't the thought of him with another girl but rather the fact that your stomach dropped at the sight.
you’d never cared before, and that was easy.
but watching him right now, smiling every time that stupid girl put her hands on him, ‘mindlessly’ grabbing his arm- it made you feel sick to your stomach.
you weren’t naive, it was obviously jealousy, which came from a place that you were willing to ignore.
“hello- i swear to god you actually just don’t fucking listen to me, like holy hell.” bella complains beside you, which makes you turn back to her.
“sorry, i'm here.” you mumble. she lifts her head back up, looking over to where your gaze was before, taking in the scene of chris flirting with some girl.
“you told him you didn’t care if he fucked other girls.” she mumbles out unhelpfully.
you playfully smack her arm, although she’s completely right. “yeah because i didn’t.” you huff, still looking his way.
“past tense… interesting.” she mumbles, pretending to be in deep thought. you turn back to her, your mouth slightly open in shock. “would you stop analysing me, it’s freaking me out.” you tell her, not loving her drunk personality right now.
she holds her hands up in surrender, letting out a small giggle at your situation. “i hate you right now.” you mumble, letting your head fall to your hands.
“no you don’t.” she mumbles, pulling you into a hug. “you love me.” she mocks, dragging you down so that the both of you are slouched into the sofa, half your body on hers.
at this point you've given up the grumpy facade, giggling with her. but you both quieten down when someone approaches, a drink in their hand.
“uh, bella?”
you turn to see an attractive man with a confused look on his face. “oh my god.” she chuckles beside you as you awkwardly sit up. “this is the guy i was talking about.” she shrieks, one hand gripping his top whilst the other held onto your arm like she was introducing the two of you.
you smile up at him awkwardly as he gives you a little nod of acknowledgement, although his attention quickly returns to bella as she tugs on his shirt.
you're not sure how it happens, but when you look up from fixing your skirt his drink is on the side and his lips are on hers.
“oh, wow.” you mutter in slight shock, shuffling along the couch as they begin to make out. “jesus.” you sigh under your breath before standing up and leaving.
you never enjoyed walking around a party alone. and sober.
you found it so awkward, especially when you were mindlessly walking with no place to be, just hoping you'd find a situation you could involve yourself in.
what you hated even more was feeling like a complete loser when the guy you'd just gotten with was taking a girl upstairs right before your eyes.
you stood in the other room, looking through the doorway as she led him up the stairs, watching like some creep at their every interaction for all of five seconds.
you told yourself you were fine, that it didn't bother you. you tried your hardest to jump back into your precious carefree mindset, trying to hone in on the old feeling.
but something had changed.
something had switched in you because all you could feel was pure jealousy and most of all dread.
was he gonna fuck her? was he gonna do exactly what he did with you? was he gonna enjoy it more?
the thoughts rattled in your head. you knew you were overthinking, but it was hard to combat the intense feeling in you with rational thoughts.
you decided on a cup of straight vodka and a cig out front, sat alone on the steps to the house.
occasionally people would walk past, either leaving or joining the party. maybe it was the increasing alcohol intake or the lack of acknowledgement from others, but for once you weren’t embarrassed to be seen alone.
“you sat all alone?”
you turn to see chris, hands in his pockets as he looked down at you with a smirk. you give him a weak nod before looking back down at your feet.
“you good?” he asked, concern in his voice as he sat down beside you. “yeah, i'm fine.” you mumble, smiling a little, usually the move that would make chris actually believe you.
“you got an almost empty cup of somethin,” he peers down at it in your hand. “and you're smokin.” he points out, making a point against your pathetic stand.
you shrug like this is your usual state. “what's wrong?” he presses, his voice slightly softer.
you're taken back by his unusual care and attention to your emotions, used to him usually just moving on when you told him you were fine.
but now how could you tell him what was wrong.
you think, swirling around the remaining vodka in the cup. now would've been a great time for him to not care.
“is this neat vodka?” he questions with a frown. you zone back in, looking over at him. “...yeah.” you mumble out. he motions towards it before gently taking it from your grasp.
he takes a swig, wincing at the taste. “you’re fucking insane.” he tells you before handing whatever was left back.
“you're also upset.” he circles back. “or y’know- not doin too hot.” he says, evidently not very good with comforting words.
“not doing too hot?” you question, subtly trying to avoid answering the question.
he shakes his head, giving you a look. “y;know what i mean.” he huffs, his gaze turning into warmth, like he was trying to coax the information out of you with a look.
you shrug again, rummaging through your mind for an excuse, or another reason why you would feel shit. but as you think, horrendous images of chris and that girl pop up into your brain, stilling your train of thought for a second as well as your heart.
“you don’t have to talk t’me bout’ your issues.” he mumbles, reassuring a little as he pulled out a paper to roll a joint.
you look over, snapping back into reality and out of your stupid thoughts. “it's not that- i just…” you sigh, unable to explain yourself.
“m’just not used to you asking me shit like that.” you mumble out meekly.
the corner of his lips turn up, his eyes remaining on the half rolled joint in his hands. you take note of the small, amused reaction. “are you only asking me what's wrong because you're coked?” you blurt out, an almost shot in the dark.
he frowns a little, but the amusement on his face never leaves. “nah.” he shakes his head, denying your accusation. “might be why i'm persistently askin’.” he admits.
“big word for you chris.” you hum, mocking him in retaliation. he rolls his eyes, biting back a smile, but you could see it seeping through. the way he genuinely found you funny, even though he liked to keep you in check by never admitting it.
“shut the fuck up.” he chuckles, shaking his head as he speaks.
a peaceful silence settles between you as he delicately licks the paper, smoothing it over into a perfect cone. despite what he was doing, she admired how good he was.
“i could teach ya y’know.” he says, clearly taking notice of her attention. “i don't wanna learn how to do that.” you tell him.
he shrugs, fiddling with it as he looks over at you. “why not?” he asks, like you were crazy for turning that down. “just don't.” you mumble, looking over at him.
you'd forgotten how close he'd sat, the both of you looking at one another shining a light on the lack of space between your bodies.
close enough to kiss him.
the thought flashes through you before you can even think, and now your lips are on his in a soft delicate kiss.
you can't tell if he's shocked and frozen or just kissing back so gently it almost felt like nothing. but then his free hand wraps around your waist, caressing the skin through your top.
it's a slow careful kiss, with no intention of anything further.
he pulls away, clearing his throat a little before his hand comes back to the joint. he shifts to find a lighter, almost trying to do something to distract his mind from that kiss.
you on the other hand stare at his very move, almost infatuated with him. it's like that kiss had put a spell on you, completely consuming your mind.
you craved the feeling, wanting nothing more than to feel that soft touch from him again. but you know it won't happen again. like you'd both been caught in a loophole, into another universe where you weren't you and chris… but you also were.
he brings the zoot to his lips, lighting it before he takes a long toke, exhaling it as his body relaxed.
you want to speak, break the silence before it becomes awkward, but it never does. the two of you sat there not exchanging a single word, which made you think that he felt it too.
he passes the joint to you, brushing the tobacco crumbs off his lap with his other hand as he holds it out for you.
you raise your eyebrows before taking it from him, taking a small puff as he leans his elbows on his knees. “don't have too much, y’already tipsy.” he suggests.
it's not an order or a demand but rather a playful comment from a place of care. “i'm not tipsy.” you scoff, keeping up the light conversation.
“ok fine, drunk.” he huffs, correcting himself sarcastically as he rolls his eyes. you smack his arm lightly. “i'm fine, practically sober.” you tell him, lying straight through your teeth.
he shakes his head a little, clearly debating between staying quiet or continuing the conversation. “you initiated a kiss- you ain't sober.” he says, lightly mocking you for being tipsy.
you roll your eyes at his light insult, looking over at him before talking. “you think i wouldn't kiss you sober?” you question, your voice quiet yet clear.
his eyebrows raise at the change in vibe of the conversation as he motions for you to pass the joint back. “not like that.” he responds before inhaling.
you squint your eyes, the corner of your mouth tugging up. “like what?” you ask, your voice barely loud enough for him to hear.
he lets out a small chuckle at your teasing tone, loving the way you were testing him. but he doesn't respond, giving you a small look which said everything and more.
“you're funny when y’drunk.” he mumbles with a small smile, clearly finding this whole ordeal very funny. “m’not-”
“yeah, yeah- i know.” he interrupts, motioning you to stop, not wanting to hear you defend yourself anymore.
he focuses in on smoking as you finish the last sip of your vodka, earning a judgemental glare from him. you watch as he hesitates to speak, clearly ready to say something.
“can i take y’home?” he asks, his tone making it obvious that he was trying to keep it casual. “i'm sleeping over at bellas.” you respond in a whisper, feeling bad for indirectly rejecting his offer.
but he just nods, not showing a single care in the world that you didn't immediately say yes. “you guys gettin’ an uber?” he asks, although it's more of a suggestion.
you press your lips together, nodding.
“good.” he muttered before taking another toke, watching the smoke as it left his lips.
you sit in another calm silence, something that had been happening more often. you thought that it was because of all the unspoken words between you that you would be saying in these times. but you didn't talk- at least not in the way you should be. letting every tension-filled moment pass until it faded into the past.
he takes a final toke, flicking the butt to the floor before he stood. “lemme know if your plans change, yeah?” he mumbles out as he walks back in, leaving you sat alone again.
you go to respond but he's gone, his offer hanging heavy in the air. for once you felt yourself buckling at his words, the sudden urge to put him above all else looming over you, like he was in your head.
did he know how to get in there? was this all a mind fuck to get you at his demand?
you turn your head to the door, almost as if you were looking at him again. god did you feel stupid for wanting him so badly, a silly little fuck boy who gave you just enough attention to get you hooked.
of course you knew all about his ways before getting yourself here, you just thought you were smart enough to not fall for it.
but did chris’s mysterious, charming personality really trump your intelligence and self respect?
“wait, why can't you go home?” he asks as the both of you walk down the road, you explaining that you couldn't just walk into your house this late at night.
“because i told my parents i was sleeping over at bellas.” you say, watching as he rolls you a cigarette whilst walking. he nods a little, but it's obvious he doesn't completely understand.
“you always smoke this much when you're drunk?” he asks, raising an eyebrow as he hands you the cig. you put on a thinking face, slotting the cig between your lips as you search your bag for a lighter. “difficult to answer.” you ponder. “considering i'm not drunk.” you say with certainty, giving him a look.
“sorry, how could i forget.” he mumbles, bringing a lighter to the end of the cigarette. you watch as the flame lights the paper, blowing in and out to get it lit.
you’d caved.
going back into the party to find chris, subtly hinting that you did want him to take you home. bella was more than ok with it, getting excited for you. (which you shut down quickly).
but here you were, on your way to sleep over at a boys house. chris’s house. you'd never been in his room before, and quite frankly you were shocked he even agreed to take you to his house.
but there was something comforting about how he let you in, not shutting you out, and if anything encouraging to spend more time with you.
after walking in silence for a while, he motions you to pass the cigarette to him. “you always smoke this much when you're drunk?” you mimic his previous question as he rolls his eyes.
“shut up.” he scoffs, holding it between his fingers as he exhaled. “m’not drunk.” he mumbles under his breath before bringing the cigarette back up to his lips.
“huh, sure.” you scoff back to annoy him. he rolls his eyes again in response as he passes the cig back. “m’actually not drunk- so zip it.” he snarks.
“yes you are.” you tease, pointing your hand at him, smoke trickling out of the cigarette. “you wouldn't be letting me sleep over if you werent.” you continue, raising an eyebrow as you brought your hand back to your own personal space.
“would’ya stop mimickin’ our entire convo from earlier?” he accuses, his brows scrunching together. “wha- what?” you halt, holding your arms out dramatically.
“keep walkin.” he huffs, motioning you to get a move on. but you took it as avoidance, to move away from his previous statement.
“what convo?” you mumble as you catch up to him, a look of confusion on your face. he shakes his head, as if that's a response. then it clicks in your brain. “when you said i wouldn't kiss you like that if i was sober?” you tease, a smirk playing on your lips as you look across to him.
he lets out a sigh, like he's given up when it comes to light conversation with you. and like he knew what you were about to say next.
“so what did you mean by that again?” you tease, pushing his buttons a little. he shrugs, playing it off as he casually slips his hands into his jean pockets.
“that it was a random kiss is all.” he responds. “but you said ‘like that’- what does ‘like that’ mean?” you press.
he lets out a small chuckle. “was a good kiss.” he shrugs, looking over at you. you send him a sweet smile, letting the soft compliment seep in. “oh shut up- dont look at me like that.” he huffs, turning to look the other way, but not before you spot the soft blush across his face.
no fucking way.
“like what?” you question after a beat, just pushing him further. “okay, we're movin’ on.” he tells you warningly.
“ok, ok.” you nod, watching as he relaxes a little. you both walk in silence for a bit, abiding by his wish to stop talking.
“so what did you and that girl do?” you mumble quietly, and oh so stupidly. your words leaving your mouth before you could think, probably because of the alcohol in your system. (not that you'd admit it).
he scoffs, an amused look on his face. you couldn't tell if he was shocked that you'd asked, or somewhat admired it. but he gave the same back, answering your question just as bluntly as you'd asked it.
“she sucked m’dick.” he mumbles, looking over to gauge your reaction.
it was hard to hide your own shock that he’d actually answered, not beating around the bush. but you nod a little, looking ahead.
he hesitates for a second before speaking again. “why, you jealous or somethin?” he asks with a sly grin.
“do you want me to be?” you respond, just as cocky.
he's taken back a little but doesnt let it show, shrugging yet again. he goes to say yes, but stops himself realising how that looks. “nah.” he shakes his head, looking down for a second.
“then i'm not.” you hum, passing what's left of the cig back to him. he takes a toke, clearly thinking for a second as the both of you walk. “you don't have to be.” he mumbles, peering over at you, clearly not believing you. “could always just, y’know.” he looks down at his crotch, the suggestion clear as day.
you smack his arm, scoffing at his audacity. “you serious? is this how you get girls to do shit, use their jealousy against them?” you question, only partially joking, because of course you wanted to.
“so you are jealous.” he points out with a cocky smirk, flicking the butt to the road. you roll your eyes, looking away momentarily.
“fuck off.” you mutter, your cocky facade crumbling as you feel your shyness take over again. he nudges you a little, a grin plastered on his face. “don't get shy on me.” he teases.
you simply blush at his words, only getting more and more timid. but he smiles, finding it sweet as he hangs his arm over your shoulder.
you get to chris's house, following behind him as he unlocks the front door and walks in. it's a nice house, similar to yours.
you quietly creep up the stairs behind him, taking in his room as he opens the door. it's a typical teenage boys room, but with more posters and decorations than you thought there’d be.
“will your parents care that i'm here?” you mindlessly ask as your eyes roam over the room. he shakes his head as he empties out his pockets onto his desk that's already piled with junk. “nah, they won't come in.” he responds.
you nod, walking over to his unmade bed to sit, taking a closer look at his bedside table, noticing a picture stuck to his wall. “you have a sister?” you question.
he whips his head round in confusion before noticing what you were looking at. “yeah, but she's in college.” he says, taking his coat off to throw it onto his chair.
“huh.” you nod, wondering why he'd never spoken about her. but then again, when did you and chris ever sit down and talk about your family trees?
“you can borrow a t-shirt or somethin’.” he says, motioning towards his draws. your gaze follows, taking in the furniture, some of the bottom drawers not fully closed because of how stuffed they are.
you stand, opening the top drawers to find his socks and boxers. you shut it before opening the next ones down, pulling out a random t-shirt.
“pornstar?” you question, reading out the graphic on the shirt. he cocks his head round from where he's sat at his desk, raising an eyebrow as well as the corner of his lip. “what? you dont fuck with it?” he taunts.
you shake your head with a smile, shutting the drawer before taking your current top off to slip into his t-shirt. “got any pyjama bottoms?” you ask.
“uh, nah.” he responds, looking your legs up and down, clearly wanting you to not cover up. “don't own any.” he teases wickedly.
you roll your eyes, slipping your denim skirt off to leave you in just his t-shirt and underwear. he smirks before returning his attention back to his desk.
“what’re you doing?” you question, walking over as you rest your hand on the back of his chair. the view of him rolling a joint answers your question as you nod, raising your eyebrows.
you weren't one to comment on someone else's habits, but it was honestly impressive how much he smoked.
you stand behind him, watching as he does his thing. “wanna sit?” your eyes tune in immediately, your hand dropping from the back of the chair. “oh sorry.” you mumble out, backing away to go sit back on the bed.
he turns, face contorted in confusion. “the fuck you doin’?”
“huh, i was jus-” you go to explain but he cuts you off. “meant on m’lap.” he explains, amused at your misunderstanding.
your face heats up slightly before you stand up. “gladly.” you mumble, sauntering over to sit sideways across his lap, chris's upper body leaning back slightly to give you space.
then he leans forward into your space, continuing his previous activity. your arm wraps around his shoulders, the other leaning against his desk that was digging into your side ever so slightly.
“you wanna crumble some in?” he offers, holding out the clay-like chunk of hash. you take it from him, observing it curiously. “you giving me a tutorial?” you tease, removing your arm from around his shoulders, leaning further onto the desk.
“somethin’ like that.” he murmurs, his eyes darting down to your ass, nothing but your black lacy underwear covering it.
“ok, so what do i do?” you frown, completely oblivious to his ogling. “uh, jus’ use your fingers to pick small pieces off.” he instructs, now looking over your shoulder to watch your movements. “yeah, yeah. jus’ like that.” he praises as you crumble small pieces over the line of tobacco in the paper.
he watches you closely. “make sure it's even across the tobacco.” he tells you.
“like this?” you question, crumbling more at the front and end. “uh-huh.” he nods, before his gaze lingers back down to your ass, his hand following suit as he gently squeezes the flesh.
you smile as you feel his hand on you, his fingers digging into your ass. “is this why you wanted me on your lap?” you ask, your attention focussed on what you were doing.
he shrugs, a lazy grin on his face. “jus’ an added bonus.” he mumbles, tilting his head back to get a better look.
“hmm, sure.” you hum back, knowing that it was all calculated. not that you minded the groping.
“s’that good?” you ask, handing back the chunk of hash. he turns his attention back, his hands returning to the table.
“mhm.” he hums, picking up the paper to roll it into a neat cone. you keep your arms on your lap, watching as he licks the paper and does whatever. then he taps your thigh, telling you to get off.
you scooch off his lap, chris standing up with a sigh before he lightly slaps your ass,
“awfully touchy today.” you taunt, following as he sits on his bed, opening the window. “shut up.” he scoffs in response, clearly not wanting to address it.
you climb onto the bed, sitting by the window opposite him, legs crossed. he lights the joint, making no effort to keep it out of the window. it was obvious that he did this a lot.
you smoke in silence for a while, chris passing it to you before leaning against the wall. “you still drunk?” he chimes, an undertone of care and worry in his voice.
you shrug, exhaling out of the window unlike chris had been doing. “i was never drunk.” you mumble, looking over at him with a teasing glare.
“hmm.” he nods. “so you're still keepin�� that up.” he mocks. you shake your head slightly, rolling your eyes.
“i was tipsy at most.” you huff, ashing the zoot on the window ledge. he raises his eyebrows. “so you admit it.” he retorts. you playfully shove him a little, only spurring on his cocky grin.
“you're so annoying.” you sigh, handing him the joint. “you love it.” he murmurs under his breath, taking a toke.
you pull a face, furrowing your brows as if to deny his accusation. but you both knew it was true.
“so how was she?” you ask, pettiness drowning out your words. he scoffs, his tongue darting out in his cheek.
“what? don’t wanna talk about it?” you taunt stupidly. maybe you were lying about not being drunk, or you just liked to prod and push him in ways he didn't like.
“don't do that shit.” he scoffs, not quite as amused as you. but you don’t let out, just shrugging at him. “god, y’really know what to say.” he mutters sarcastically, shaking his head.
it was stupid of you to bring it up again, especially like this. you’d told chris from the start you didn't care about other girls, yet here you were. acting like a bratty, petty girl, desperate to be his no.1 in a swarm of girls.
“m’just curious.” you mumble, lying through your teeth.
he scoffs again, getting slightly annoyed at your attitude you were keeping up. “you're curious?” he echos, raising an eyebrow. “curious about another girl suckin’ my dick?” he snaps, his voice slightly harsher than usual.
“yeah.” you sigh, acting like this was a normal conversation, or that it hadn’t come out of the blue. he takes a toke of the joint before passing it back to you, refusing to answer by staying quiet.
“we're friends, i don't care.” you shrug, inhaling some of the joint. “just curious.” you repeat.
he lets out a huff, reluctantly answering. “was alright, nothin’ special.” he mumbles, looking over to see your reaction.
“did you come?” you blurt out, choosing to prioritise your curiosity over the logical idea to stay quiet, absentmindedly ignoring what chris does with his dick.
he chuckles under his breath, now finding it funny how serious you were. “no.” he responds, looking over at you.
“so, can’t have been that good.” you tease. he raises his eyebrows, letting out an amused chuckle. he didn't know if he loved or hated this side of you.
“you're on one right now.” he says, shaking his head as he motions for you to pass the zoot.
“why?” you chuckle, acting innocent in your intentions of the horrid conversation you had started. he takes it from your hand, taking a toke before speaking. “cause you ain’t even sucked a dick before.” he retorts, knocking you down a peg or two.
you pull a face, shrugging. then something takes over your body, the same thing that has made you act like this in the first place.
you shift in your spot on the bed, leaning forward to begin unbuckling his belt. he kisses his teeth, rolling his eyes. “the fuck you doin’?” he questions, thinking you were teasing him or pulling his leg.
“what do you think?” you whisper back, unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans.
he looks down, watching your hands. almost waiting for you to stop and say that you were messing with him.
but then your hand dips below his boxers as you tug out his soft dick like you'd done it a million times. “seriously, what're you doin’?” he scoffs, thinking you wouldn't go through with it considering you’d made it pretty clear that you weren't exactly up for everything.
you sigh, looking up at him with all seriousness. “sucking your dick.” you say as if he was stupid for even asking.
his throat goes dry realising you're serious, his dick twitching as it immediately begins to grow hard as the words leave your mouth.
you wrap your hand around his cock, pumping it a few times, before you scooch back to give yourself more space. you bring your mouth to the tip of his half hard dick, experimentally licking the slit.
he takes a toke of the joint, watching you with dark eyes, watching as he takes in the fact you weren’t bluffing.
he doesn't say anything, letting you do what you want at your own pace, turned on by the fact you'd never done this before.
you take his dick further, going about half way as you slowly slide it in and out of your mouth. he takes in a sharp breath, his dick stiffening fully now that he was in your mouth.
he tries not to speak, but his desperation gets the better of him. “go further.” he mumbles, his voice hoarse.
you look up at him through your lashes before abiding, taking his dick further down your throat until you feel the need to gag, pulling off before you do.
you recover quickly though, collecting the saliva in your mouth as you duck your head back down, sucking this time, your cheeks hollowed. you don't go as deep, instead stopping before you can gag, as you bob your head up and down.
“oh shiit-” he groans, the unexpected change in pace driving him crazy. you wrap your hand around the base, pumping it as you suck him hard. “fuck, you sure you never done this before?” he breathes out, taking another look at you.
you mumble around his dick, sending shivers down his spine.
you'd never done this before, and you were making it up as you went along. maybe part of the motivation was to prove yourself, a petty part of you wanting to make sure this was ten times better than what any other girl could give him. and maybe that extra motivation is exactly what made this a mind blowing blowjob.
“holy fuck – you’re good at that.” he breathes out, his free hand threading through your hair, whilst he held the other out of the window with the now forgotten joint.
his praise only spurs you on, bringing out something within you that just made you want to please him, and make him feel good.
he lets out low groans and breaths as you continue, taking on whatever he told you to do. catering to how he wanted it.
it had been about ten minutes and you were already doing a lot more, your wrist twisting in rhythm as you harshly sucked him, your tongue occasionally darting out delicately over the tip, the way he told you he liked it.
“mgh, so fuckin’ good.” he groaned,the hand that wasnt in your hair gripping onto his duvet beneath him. the joint now out and resting on the window ledge.
you shift your position, your ass now up, as you got into a sort of doggy position between his legs.
“shit, that’s fuckin’ hot.” he breathes out, looking over at your ass in those lacy black panties. the ones that had been consuming his mind the entire night.
you mumble around his dick again which just pushes him further to the edge. his eyes shutting tight as he tries to hold off his orgasm in order to enjoy the feeling of your mouth on him longer.
“you're gonna make me cum.” he moans, his voice breathy and rough. you feel your stomach bubble at his words, your brain going back to the fact that that other girl hadn't, and here you were, about to push him over the edge despite the fact you'd never given a blowjob before.
you suck harder, if that were possible, motivated to make him come. you wanted to make him feel good, better than any other girl ever had or could.
it consumed your mind like a plague. you hated how much you had begun to care, but right now you were ignoring that. focusing on chris's dick instead.
“oh fuck -” he whines, his hips thrusting up ever so slightly, making you gag. you pull off reluctantly to avoid throwing up as he removes his hand from your hair, your eyes now watering.
“jesus christ.” he breathes. you finally get a look at him, and he looks hot – completely fucked out. “i'm so close.” he mumbles out shamelessly, his usual casual demeanour completely gone.
“sorry.” you mumble, swiping your thumb across your bottom lip to remove the excess saliva.
“no no, you're good.” he says, his voice horse and desperate. you take his dick in your hand, jerking him off as you catch your breath for a second. “i can cum like this.” he mumbles, his chest rising and falling ever so slightly as he leans back.
you shake your head. “you can cum in my mouth y’know.” you tell him, not thinking twice about the offer.
his eyes widen a little. it's not like he'd never come down a girl's throat before, but he hadn't expected you to be so willing to do so.
“you sure?” he whispers. you don't respond, simply taking him into your mouth again which causes his mouth to fall open, his head tilting back slightly.
it only takes a few more minutes before he's rutting his hips upwards ever so slightly, his breaths coming out rugged.
“gonna cum.” he mumbles, letting you know. you continue the same rhythmic movements, wishing you could see him coming apart right now.
then he lets out a strangled moan as you feel the warm salty liquid spurt into your mouth. you wince your eyes a little at the taste, sucking it out of him until there's no more. then you swallow, pulling off him, immediately looking around the room for some water.
“holy fuck.” he breathes, falling back on the bed as his limp dick rests on his abdomen.
you hop off the bed, taking a sip of water from the glass on his bedside table.
“i don't even know whatta say.” he sighs, brushing his hair off his forehead. you swallow the water as you look over at him laid on the bed. “was it good?” you ask.
he scoffs. “shut the fuck up.” he huffs, eventually tucking his dick back into his boxers before sitting up. he picks the joint off the ledge, lighting it as he takes a toke.
you crawl back onto the bed, crossing your legs under, holding your fingers out for him to pass the zoot.
“youre somethin’ else - fuckin’ hell.” he says, still in an orgasmic bliss. he hands you the joint before gently grabbing the side of your head to press a soft kiss to your forehead.
you let out a small chuckle at his touchiness and affection. “i should make you jealous more often.” he murmurs, his cocky attitude returning promptly.
you roll your eyes before, playfully smacking his arm, giving him a stern look. “why would you do that when you know what i can do?”
he lets out a soft chuckle at your comment, smirking to himself in pride of your skills. “good point.” he agrees, looking you up and down as if he's still trying to process what just happened.
it's like something had switched between the both of you, new territories of vulnerability seeping through. you had done more than you told him you would, and to be truthfully honest, he cared about you more than he'd like to admit. the both of you acting like you were fucking dating.
©sturnsrecord
notes . finally posted the next part, hope everyone from my previous account manages to find this. enjoy xx
tag list . @iizzyyy @sophsturns @strnilolover @sturniolossss
#sturniolo smut#chris sturniolo smut#chris sturiolo fanfic#sturniolo fanfic#matt sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#nick sturniolo#sturniolo#chris sturniolo#★ctmw#★sturnsrecord
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Oh yes, and in general, these books are an excellent example of "if your characters act like the world is normal, the audience is probably just gonna roll with it."
There's a lot to be said about how/why to make that work, but it mostly boils down to, "Is this something the average reader of this genre is familiar with?" and/or "Is it similar enough to real-world concepts that they'll get the point?"
Governor Module... Hm don't know that one, but 1) it was hacked, so it must be a computer thing and 2) its purpose is pretty obvious from the name and what the character said it can do once it's hacked.
The feed? That's a new word, but okay, it says "entertainment feed" and you can watch shows and stuff with it. That sounds like a kind of internet thing, I know how internet thing works.
Streaming media at work? Everyone knows this! Oh, we can stream media directly in our brains here? Baller.
Giant sand worm? Everyone knows giant sand worm!
There's that feed thing again. Oh we can also send messages using it! Definitely an internet thing.
Laser guns? We fuck with laser guns. Laser guns in arms? Gotcha, character is either a robot or a cyborg, let's keep reading and find out which.
Hopper? New word but obviously a flying vehicle based on what they're doing with it.
Etc.
And really, we see this all over in fantasy and science fiction writing!
Star Trek didn't get around to explaining how warp drive works until TNG, but it's clear from the beginning that it's how spaceships go fast (and remember, this was a pretty new idea at the time).
Teleporter? Ok we've seen stuff where people disappear from one place and reappear somewhere else, now we have a device that does it.
Light saber? No idea how that works, but I know sword and I know light and it's glowing so ok cool.
If something is really new and really strange and really important to the plot, you can go back and give more explanation later. But you can get a loooong way by just. Showing characters using and interacting with things to explain what they are and how they work.
And if you really do need to explain something, a couple sentences will often do, and we can discover more about it as the story goes on.
Jedi?? No idea, but everyone knows knights. Yep and these are good knights, got it. Ohhh, there are evil knights too.
The force? Oh, it gives these Jedi people "powers," so like. Makes them superheroes or wizards. Some kinda magic field. That's neat!
Ah ok, this Darth Vader guy is one of the magic knights. Oh shit he just choked a dude out from across the room! So that's one of the "powers" the Jedi have.
(Martha Wells takes this to an extreme, but also by almost never explaining exactly how anything works, she leaves herself open to just go, "Oh yeah it does this too, but it can't do that" later on in the story.)
An important writing lesson I'm taking away from Murderbot is that you don't always have to ease your readers into the world and the characters and speculative concepts. Sometimes you can just start with the fun part where there's a sandworm trying to eat someone and that's fine too.
#ah that got a bit long#but it's one of the things I'm really passionate about in crafting scifi and fantasy stories
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hey sugar, for your celebration event (congrats btw) could you write the prompt below with our lovely spencer please? if not completely okay
“Just calm down, things will be fine.”
“My wife is being held at gunpoint and you think now is a suitable time to tell me to calm down.”
˚୨୧⋆。 prompt/s; “Just calm down, things will be fine.” “My wife is being held at gunpoint and you think now is a suitable time to tell me to calm down.” — from 50 dialogue prompts
˚୨୧⋆。 warnings; husband!spencer, reader is kidnapped/at gunpoint but it’s not described, just spencer battling internally with his worries, angst kinda, if i missed anything lmk
˚୨୧⋆。 a/n; send reqs pretty please🫶
— celebrate 600 with me?
the sound of muffled footsteps trailed throughout the dark alley, just beyond the warehouse doors.
inside, Spencer was pacing frantically, his mind running in every direction— but always back to you.
ever since you had started dating Spencer, and then marrying him, the mere thought of you always seemed to calm him down.
but now, now was the opposite.
his hands were shaking and his breath shallow. every thought about you turning into a worry if they’d get to you in time or not.
“Spence, stop pacing”
Dereks voice pulled him from his thoughts, even if just for a minute. his voice firm despite his efforts to calm down Spencer.
“just calm down, things’ll be fine”
he continued, his hands grasping Spencer’s shoulders to try and still him but Spencer jerked away. his eyes wide with panic as he started pacing again.
“my wife is being held at gunpoint and you think now is a suitable time to tell me to calm down?!”
Spencer’s voice cracked, the frustration mixing with the raw fear that churned in his chest.
every breath he took made it harder for him to stop thinking of you, of holding you against his chest and never letting go again.
“i get it, but right now losing your head won’t help her. we need you focussed”
Derek continued trying to soothe him, and despite his restraints another sigh fell from Spencer’s lips.
Spencer clenched his fists as he stared at the floor, trying to force the fear down. yet his thoughts still ran straight back to you.
the fear of seeing you hurt overtook every feeling he had in that moment, the thought being his worst nightmare.
“she’s strong”
Derek added quietly, watching as Spencer tilted his head to meet Dereks eyes before he nodded slowly.
“she can handle herself”
Spencer’s breath hitched at that. he knew it was true, hell he was the one that taught you how to defend yourself.
but the idea of you handling yourself in a dangerous situation like this was something Spencer admired about you, but it only made his helplessness gnaw harder at his insides in this moment.
he wasn’t there. he wasn’t able to protect you.
“i don’t know if i can do this”
Spencer blurted out, his voice quiet but Derek still heard him. speaking to himself mainly instead of to Derek.
“we’ll get her back”
Derek said, his voice unwavering as he held Spencer’s gaze. the eye contact make him anxious, pulling away and scratching at his neck as the worry continued to bubble in his belly.
"you’re gonna get her back, but you have to stay with us. we need you to think clearly."
a moment of silence passed between them, Spencer still trying to steady his breathing while his eyes flickered to the door of the warehouse.
every second felt like an eternity.
Spencer swallowed hard, trying to push back the questions spinning around his head. he couldn’t imagine a world without you in it, he couldn’t imagine his life without you in it.
you were his anchor, his reason for getting up every day— his being to see you smile each and every day. but now, now he was powerless to protect you.
“let’s get her back”
he finally spoke, voice hoarse but determined.
Derek gave him a curt nod, both of them moving toward the door and ready to act. Spencer on his left, the weight of the world on his shoulder but with one goal in his head— but he wasn’t alone.
not this time, not while they still had a chance.
⋆˚࿔ reblogs are highly appreciated 𝜗𝜚˚⋆
#𝜗𝜚 ㅤ― louie’s 600 follower special ⊹#⋆˚࿔ louie writes 𝜗𝜚˚⋆#𝜗𝜚 spencer reid#spencer reid#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid angst#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x fem!reader#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds#criminal minds oneshot#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds fic#criminal minds fandom#reid x reader#reid criminal minds#reqs open
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Mikey stretched his arms up, then out, then stretched each of the fingers. They always ached in the early morning like this, but it was slowly getting better, bit by bit. He pulled on the special gloves Donnie had made him and headed for the kitchen, only yawning a little bit as he went.
Maybe they'd have something easy today, yesterday’s fight was surprisingly long….
He usually slept like a baby after missions, but something was nagging at him. He hadn't been able to figure it out before bed last night, and the worry seemed to dissipate as he got up for the day. He chalked it up to the whole witch-incident, even if the spell had been a complete dud.
Some witches just weren't cut out for it, he guessed.
Mikey was shocked to see the kitchen light was already on, and when he peeked around the corner he got an even more surprising sight. Leo was already up, hand on his hip as he rifled through the cabinet for breakfast.
“Morning, Leo! I was gonna whip up some eggs and toast if ya wanna wait a little, “ Mikey started, voice soft in case Leo hasn't actually slept, as he seemed to have trouble doing these days. Well, more trouble than usual, anyway.
Leo didn't answer for a moment, but he did go still. Like he'd heard Mikey, but was afraid to answer.
“uh…you okay, Lee?” Mikey asked again, slowly walking towards his brother.
After the invasion - which was nearly a year and a half ago now - they'd all had trouble adjusting. They'd been beaten down both mentally and physically, and the recovery was long and slow. They were all still recovering, Leo included.
So it wasn’t too strange for him to not answer them sometimes, or for him to act strangely for no apparent reason. His panic attacks and nightmares had become less frequent as time went on, but they'd all learned how to help.
So maybe it was just something like that! Even though Mikey had never had Leo just ignore him like this before. Usually he at least acknowledged him or tried to communicate in other ways.
Maybe this was just a new development, and they'd help Leo through it like always!
Leo slowly turned around, with a faintly anxious expression. His breathing was even, though, and his eyes were plenty focused. So not a panic attack, but his demeanor was still…weird.
Leo stated at him with wide eyes for a moment, before letting out a nervous chuckle.
“Um…sorry, this is a really weird question, but…who are you, exactly?”
Mikey blinked.
Well, that was new.
He ran through a list of Leo's previous symptoms, and sometimes, yeah, he didn't exactly recognize them. But this was a clearly very cognizant and not panicking Leo, so it couldn’t be-
And then Mikey remembered the thing in the back of his mind. The worry that had been lingering since their fight yesterday.
What if the spell hadn't been a dud?
“ well this isn't good….”
--------
Another part to that one au idea. I still don't know what to call it, but I'm kinda hopping around the ideas for it. I don't usually write in such little parts like this, so maybe it will become something idk :)
Technically this is exactly how wirm was born so maybe it'll be like that LMAO
But yeah enjoy Mikey being like ' ah yes the trauma' and then realizing that ' oh that's not the trauma '.
This part happens BEFORE the last blurb I posted btw, so I'm labelling it part one :) Chronologically it happens the morning before part two ;)
Part Two
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Hi, it's me again, could you write another story about Buddy Wonder Woman's daughter, about her friendship with John and Dhmian, about her misadventures and about her adaptation to the new modern world
Here are some shenanigans the trio have gotten themselves into!
Hope you enjoy!
Wonder Buddy and the Super Sons shenanigans
SFW, Platonic, Slight Familial, Amazonian reader
WONDER FAMILY
Damian, Jon, and Wonder Buddy were often referred to as the New Trinity by the older Leaguers.
Almost spitting images of their parents in looks and personality.
But they had a different bond than their parents had with each other.
They had a deep-rooted friendship that none of their parents would ever have with each other.
It showed in some of their child like shenanigans.
Exhibit A. The Roomba Incident.
Buddy was very cautious of all the new technology around her, having never seen anything like it on the island.
She had a particular grudge against Roombas after one went rouge (Luthor tech) in the Kent household and she had to fight it.
Lois came back home to a very clean home, a dirty Jon, a new Wayne tech Roomba, and Buddy making apology deserts.
It took forever to get Buddy to stop raising her sword at another Roomba’s.
Damian: “For the last time Buddy this is not going to kill you!” Buddy: “You said that last time and look what happened!” Jon: “Wait!” He flies to the fridge and pulls out a popsicle. Buddy looks at it curiously. Jon: “I’ll give you the popsicle if you put the sword down.” Buddy looks hesitantly before sheathing the sword. Jon chuckles as Buddy has a big smile on her face while eating it. Meanwhile in the Watchtower… Diana: “…Something just happened…” Bruce: “What?” Clark: “Diana?” Diana: “I do not know yet… but something is waiting for me on Earth.”
Which leads to Exhibit B: Sweets.
It surprised both boys how much of a sweet tooth Buddy had.
It was also one of the easiest ways to sway her to their side of an argument.
While she was fair mediator, giving her some of her sweets, she might rethink her previous thoughts.
But they use this power sparingly.
After the Christmas Light Incident, they know better than to let Buddy have too much sugar.
Her inner Amazonian takes the wheel and has enough energy to fight a speedster.
At the Wayne Manor. Daiman: “I told you to watch her! You know she’s still new and gets lost!” Jon: “In my defense, she was right behind me when I last saw her. She couldn’t have gone that far anyways.” A few minutes later… Buddy after 3 plates of cookies and 5 bottles of soda, has her sword out and is swinging maniacally at the test dummies. Buddy: “DEATH BEFORE DISHONOR!” Jon, Damian, Jason, Time, and Steph are behind a table acting as a barrack. Damian: “Which one of you imbeciles thought it was a good idea to give her sugar!” Steph: “To be fair, I’ve always wanted to see what a sugar high Amazon looked like.” Jon peaks over the table. Jon: “She’s still going strong. Dummy number 98 is gone.”
It took a couple hours for her sugar crash to start happening.
All high sugar items in the manor are now heavily guarded.
Even with Buddy’s little hiccups, she is still an extremely loyal friend.
She has gone out of her way to make sure her friends are safe and happy.
Whether it be during missions or as civilians.
The boys wouldn’t give anything up for their friend.
They would stand by her side without hesitation.
Because they knew she would do the same for them.
Jon is trying to talk a bully down. The bully snickers and goes to punch Jon before he notices a girl and boy behind the Kent. Both are glaring at him. If looks could kill, he’d be at the center of the earth by now. The bully leaves. Jon smiles: “I did it guys!” Damian: “Of course.” Buddy: “Didn’t have a single doubt!” Later on patrol… Buddy is carrying Damian in the air. Damian: “I had it handled!” Buddy rolls her eyes. Buddy: “Yes, because nothing says I have it handled than hanging by one’s fingertips with a broken leg.” Damian: “My leg is not broken.” Buddy raises an eyebrow. Buddy: “You want to test that theory?” Damian grumbles in response. Another while later… Some random guy is trying to hit on Buddy at school. Random guy: “How about I show you a good time?” Wonder, oblivious, Buddy: “Oh? What are you planning?” The guy gets closer and slides his arm around her shoulders. Buddy starts to glare at him. His face starts getting closer. THWACK! The guy is now unconscious on the ground. Buddy blinks at the sudden drop. Damian: “Tt.” Jon grabs her hand gently. Jon: “You okay?” Buddy: “I’m fine.” Damian: “How could you let him get so close?” You can easily flick him across the street.” Buddy: “I thought he wanted to be friends.” Damian just groans before grabbing her other hand and starts walking. Damian: “I hate both of you.” Buddy and Jon just laugh as they let their human friend drag them back to the Wayne manor.
#dc#dc comics#wonder family#damian wayne#jon kent#super sons#amazonian buddy#super sons x platonic reader#wonder buddy
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As always many thoughts...
You laughed at his unexpected response as he ran his rough fingers along Rose's fuzzy hair. "Don't forget about the seafood platters." "Sweetheart, I'll never forget about the seafood platters," he promised, turning to look at you as his head sank back against the couch.
Of course he wouldn't 😅
"I am." His brown eyes remained fixed on yours. "I am. I told you I was. I want them close, but not too close. Like, I don't want them next door where they can hear me call you my filthy little slut or something." "Bradley," you said, laughing again as he took Rose in his hands to burp her. "They don't need to know the ins and outs of how you call me Daddy while you're gagging on my cock either." He kissed the baby on her forehead. "Sorry, Nugget. I'll teach you one day how babies are made, and you'll probably cringe the whole time."
Hahah this whole conversation cracked me up 😂
You couldn't believe how quickly he shut it down. "It was just an idea," you mumbled, watching him snuggle the baby. "So you wouldn't have to miss Rose the whole time while you're away."
Ok rude of Bradley, it was just a nice thought 🙄😒
You nodded and hummed, lips brushing the scars on his neck. "I'm just happy you remembered." "Sweetheart, I remember everything," he promised. "And I propose that we plan a trip for the three of us before the year is over. We can go anywhere you and the Nugget want."
🥰🥰🥰
"We'll be fast," he replied confidently, turning off the stove burner. "You're never fast! You like to linger!" "It's a new era, Baby Girl. The mom and dad era. I'll learn how to be quick so we can finish before she wakes up."
Haha I can't with him
"Oh, I love this so much," he whined as his other fingers found your clit. "I'm not happy about making this quick. I might need more later."
Of course he does 🤭
He could already hear Rose getting restless in the nursery down the hallway, her soft cries ramping up as Bradley slammed his cock into his wife. He wanted to make sure he got you off before he was done, but then you went and said something so hot, he knew he wasn't going to be able to hold on much longer. "I could always nurse you later if you want." "I take it you're interested in my offer." "Absolutely," he rasped, pulling his pants up so he could go say hi to his daughter. "If I ever say no to your tits, something is definitely wrong, Baby Girl. That would be your cue to take me out back and finish me off."
🤭🤭🤭
"When's the wedding?" you asked Jake as you dropped your tray next to his at lunch. He was eating the most delicious looking burger and a slice of pizza, and your soup and salad looked pitiful next to them. Seemingly no matter what you did, you'd stopped losing weight since the baby was born, and right now you were so exhausted, you couldn't even think about starting an exercise regimen.
Oh no, she is too hard on herself 🥺
"We've been engaged less than a month," Jake drawled, shoving some of the accompanying fries into his mouth. "Maybe some of us can wait a little longer to get hitched than your husband could, Angel."
Oh don't act like a saint Jake, we all know you wanna marry her sooner rather than later an if Cat had a buch of trauma and needs time because of that, they would have been married already 😅
Jake heaved a deep sigh, dragging a fry through ketchup. "He already calls me 'dad'. His speech was delayed, but it was still one of his first words, probably because I was around so much. I want to make sure Cat's ex doesn't get any rights, and if that means I need to hire another legal team before we get married, then so be it."
Dad Jake 🥹🥰
Maybe you could just get pizza. But you shouldn't. But it sounded so good as you watched Jake eat his. But your hips and belly were already so big, you couldn't let yourself.
Maybe maybe there is something else going on, hmm 🤭
"You look like a DILF."
He sure does 😌
"Be honest, how many of these do you think I'll need?" You snorted. "Unless every night is happy hour at the Copacabana, probably none. But knowing you, I'd pack at least two."
Hahaha this is so Bradley 😅
"This sucks," Bradley said for probably the hundredth time in the past hour. Standing at the curb at San Diego International Airport with a beautiful wife and a beautiful daughter, being forced to leave them for a week, was actually awful. He didn't want to go. He wanted to continue to cradle Rose against his chest with his arm wrapped around you until he missed his flight. "You need to go or you'll miss your flight. And then Mav will be on my case about it."
He just loves to be with his girls 🥰
Before he ducked inside, he cupped his free hand to his mouth and shouted, "I love you!" He watched you blow him a kiss and then pull away from the curb before he headed to the counter to drop off his bag.
🥰🥰🥰
To his absolute delight, all he had to do was ask nicely and flash his most charming smile, and he was handed the keys to a brand new, black Bronco. It was a model year newer than your red one back at home, and he was excited to scrutinize all of the little differences as he drove it around for the week.
He is living his best life 😅
Was he really that guy? Did he already miss his kid enough that he had to open up the photo gallery in his phone and scroll through a few pictures before he could drive away?
Yes, he absolutely 100% is
"Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw," she said, eyes snapping back up to meet his. "All the way from Top Gun. I've been waiting to meet you for weeks, Sir."
Oh oh this feels like trouble 😬🫣
Aim for the Sky Part 27 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: Bradley is required to travel for a week, and both you and he are exhausted. He's hoping this will mean fewer deployments in the future, but in the present, he's going to need to remember where his responsibilities lie.
Warnings: Angst, adult language, lactation kink, body image, fluff, smut, DILF Roo
Length: 3900 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader
Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.
Once again, your parents extended their stay to spend more time with Rose, but when they finally flew back to Maryland, it felt strange to be on your own with your daughter. You and Bradley fell into a regular routine once more, but it took him days before he came clean about being stressed out. When he got home late from work to find you on the couch feeding Rose, you could tell by the set of his shoulders that he'd had a long day.
"Can we talk about some things?" he asked, bending to untie his boots. You'd been wanting him to confide in you for days, but you were already exhausted again from the late night feedings and had pushed the comments Bradley made to Jake to the back burner.
"What's on your mind?" you asked, secretly pleased that he leaned down to give you a long, needy kiss, complete with his big hand on your neck, before kissing Rose as she ate. It had been a few days since you and he were intimate, and your body was already responding to him as he dropped down on the couch next to you.
"Can we just move to La Jolla? Nothing stresses me out when we have copious amounts of champagne and oral sex."
You laughed at his unexpected response as he ran his rough fingers along Rose's fuzzy hair. "Don't forget about the seafood platters."
"Sweetheart, I'll never forget about the seafood platters," he promised, turning to look at you as his head sank back against the couch. "Your mom and dad are serious about moving out here."
Your smile started to fade away. "Yeah, Roo. They are. And I thought you were pleased by that fact."
"I am." His brown eyes remained fixed on yours. "I am. I told you I was. I want them close, but not too close. Like, I don't want them next door where they can hear me call you my filthy little slut or something."
"Bradley," you said, laughing again as he took Rose in his hands to burp her.
"They don't need to know the ins and outs of how you call me Daddy while you're gagging on my cock either." He kissed the baby on her forehead. "Sorry, Nugget. I'll teach you one day how babies are made, and you'll probably cringe the whole time."
You sighed and reached for Bradley, cupping his jaw in your hand and stroking his mustache with your thumb. "My parents are seriously getting their house ready to sell. So just give it to me straight."
He nodded. "I don't want them over here all the time, okay? I love them, I really do, but they take over our house when they come. And even though we finished the attic so they could have a place to stay when they're here, Rosie can move her bedroom up there when she's older. So it wasn't a waste of time since the contractor saw your tits."
"It was a photo of my tits! I didn't just whip them out for him to see!" Now Bradley was laughing as you said, "It sounds like you're worried about having some boundaries if my parents become our new neighbors."
"Yes," he replied, nodding as you ran your fingers along his jaw. "That."
"I'm sure we can have a conversation with them and address all of your concerns." Rose seemed to be done burping, and you were treated to the view of Bradley cuddling your four month old against his chest. "Now, can you tell me what else made you have a bad day at work?"
"What makes you think I had a bad day?" he asked, placing soft kisses on Rose's cheek. "I could never have a bad day when I get to come home to my girls." You sighed as he ran his nose along her hair and inhaled deeply before he met your gaze. "Okay. It's not the end of the world, but Mav informed me that I need to take a trip to the Naval Airstation in Fort Worth. I don't really have any details yet."
"Okay," you replied softly, finally voicing what had been on your mind. "Well, maybe Rose and I can come with you for a few days? I can't remember exactly how much vacation time I have left, but it could be fun. And you did say the next trip should be for the three of us to enjoy together."
Bradley shrugged and immediately said, "Fort Worth in August? Baby Girl, it's going to be miserably hot. I know you, for some reason, miss the east coast humidity, but this is going to be gross. Ask Jake about it, he's from that ridiculous state."
You couldn't believe how quickly he shut it down. "It was just an idea," you mumbled, watching him snuggle the baby. "So you wouldn't have to miss Rose the whole time while you're away."
His head tipped back as he sighed. "I'm taking this new position so I can hopefully deploy less often and be here more later on. Even if I have to start working longer days, a week or two away from home is nothing compared to five months."
You bristled. "I understand that, Roo. We've talked about this so much. But maybe try to be a little bit more patient with the idea of my parents moving here so I can have a support system when you're busy?"
When you stood and rushed toward the bedroom, Bradley was right behind you, hand reaching out to grab your shoulder while he still held Rose tight. "Are you mad at me?"
Your stomach roiled with irritation, annoyance and disdain. You hated when you got like this, because he was the one who could bring out the best and also the worst in you. "I don't know."
-------------------------------
You were kind of quiet at home. Bradley hated it. You were a bit more vocal during sex, but that certainly didn't make him feel any better about the rest of it.
"I have my dates for Fort Worth," he informed you when he strolled in from work with some yellow flowers and a new book for Rose. Today was important to him. He wasn't sure you'd remember why, but he still wanted to acknowledge it.
"When?" you asked, continuing to make dinner while he looked around for the baby. "She's napping in her crib," you added, seemingly knowing he always wanted his daughter nearby.
"Second week of August," he replied. "So, pretty soon. But just for a week." You nodded as Bradley walked closer, and he realized what you were cooking. "Marry Me Rooster?"
"Yeah." Your voice was soft as you looked at him over your shoulder. You were also still wearing your khaki uniform, and he could tell you were tired. He was tired, too, but he wanted things to feel more natural around here again. He didn't want to accept that this was just how things would be now when the two of you were taking turns getting up with Rose all the time.
He wished he hadn't made such a fuss about your parents, because he really did love them, and it would be nice to have some help occasionally. And now he felt like you were continually annoyed with him, and he had to figure out a way to fix this.
Your voice broke into his thoughts. "It's kind of a special day?"
You sounded unsure. Like you thought maybe he didn't remember. But a smile immediately found his lips, and he gestured to the flowers. He should have known you'd remember. You remembered everything. You just made him a seafood platter to celebrate Carole's birthday the other day.
"I proposed two years ago." You visibly relaxed at his words as you took the flowers in your hands. He stroked the diamond ring on your finger as he said, "I couldn't wait another minute after I found this in the storage unit. I needed you to wear it. I needed you to say yes." You melted into his arms, and he kissed your forehead. "Can I go ahead and propose something else right now?"
You nodded and hummed, lips brushing the scars on his neck. "I'm just happy you remembered."
"Sweetheart, I remember everything," he promised. "And I propose that we plan a trip for the three of us before the year is over. We can go anywhere you and the Nugget want."
Your eyes lit up as he cupped your perfect cheek in his hand. "I have so many ideas, Roo."
"I knew you would. Can I make another proposal?" When you raised one eyebrow, he whispered, "How about we mess around before Rose wakes up?"
He was already wrapping his arms around you, turning you toward the hallway when you said, "But what about dinner?"
"We'll be fast," he replied confidently, turning off the stove burner.
"You're never fast! You like to linger!"
"It's a new era, Baby Girl. The mom and dad era. I'll learn how to be quick so we can finish before she wakes up."
This was the closest thing to a true quickie Bradley had experienced in a long time. Maybe ever. You were pushed up against the wall just inside the bedroom, belt jingling with your pants down around your thighs. He was going hard at a nice, steady pace with his hand inside your bra. Your warm milk dripped between his fingers and along his palm as he whimpered.
"Oh, I love this so much," he whined as his other fingers found your clit. "I'm not happy about making this quick. I might need more later."
He could already hear Rose getting restless in the nursery down the hallway, her soft cries ramping up as Bradley slammed his cock into his wife. He wanted to make sure he got you off before he was done, but then you went and said something so hot, he knew he wasn't going to be able to hold on much longer.
"I could always nurse you later if you want."
When he came, his vision flooded with dizzying color. Bradley lapped your milk from his hand, moaning your name as his hips eventually slowed. Rose was wailing now as you bent down to pull your pants up, cum dripping down your inner thighs as you looked at him with a little grin.
"I take it you're interested in my offer."
"Absolutely," he rasped, pulling his pants up so he could go say hi to his daughter. "If I ever say no to your tits, something is definitely wrong, Baby Girl. That would be your cue to take me out back and finish me off." You laughed when he said, "Happy engagement anniversary. I'll go take care of the Nugget."
-----------------------------
"When's the wedding?" you asked Jake as you dropped your tray next to his at lunch. He was eating the most delicious looking burger and a slice of pizza, and your soup and salad looked pitiful next to them. Seemingly no matter what you did, you'd stopped losing weight since the baby was born, and right now you were so exhausted, you couldn't even think about starting an exercise regimen.
"We've been engaged less than a month," Jake drawled, shoving some of the accompanying fries into his mouth. "Maybe some of us can wait a little longer to get hitched than your husband could, Angel." You rolled your eyes dramatically at him, but you were fighting a smile. "I'm trying my best to make sure that everything is in order for Jeremiah, if I'm being honest."
"Like what?" you asked, blowing on a spoonful of your soup.
Jake heaved a deep sigh, dragging a fry through ketchup. "He already calls me 'dad'. His speech was delayed, but it was still one of his first words, probably because I was around so much. I want to make sure Cat's ex doesn't get any rights, and if that means I need to hire another legal team before we get married, then so be it."
Tears stung your eyes as you patted his cheek gently. You knew you were lucky that you and Bradley were together and that he would do anything to take care of his child, but right now you were just so happy for Jeremiah. "He's such a sweet kid, Jake. And you love him so much."
"I do," he replied before taking an enormous bite out of his burger. You let him chew in silence while you picked at your lunch. Right now, you really wished Bradley was here, but the chances of him showing up were slim when he was out shadowing Maverick again. He was leaving in a few days for Texas, and you were feeling pretty emotional. It would just be you and Rose at home for a whole week by yourselves.
"Well, if you're looking for a nice venue, I know a good parking lot."
Jake barked out a laugh. "There's too much sentimental Bradshaw bullshit in that parking lot. No way I'd be allowed to get married there."
Then Cat showed up, and Jake's attention immediately shifted to her. You poked your salad around on your plate, wondering why you were so damn tired. You still had four more hours of work to get through before you had to pick Rose up and make dinner. Maybe you could just get pizza. But you shouldn't. But it sounded so good as you watched Jake eat his. But your hips and belly were already so big, you couldn't let yourself.
Your afternoon was filled with checking code that someone in Annapolis had entered, and they'd done a really shitty job. When you left your office, your eyes were tired, and you could feel yourself caving. You ordered a pizza and picked it up on your way home with Rose. Then you ate half of it on the couch while you fed her. And when you were done, you really wanted to cry, because you didn't know why you couldn't control yourself right now.
"I'm starving," Bradley groaned when he walked in. "You got pizza?" he asked, shoving two slices stacked up on top of each other into his mouth and moaning. Then he dropped down onto the couch and polished them off while you switched Rose to your other side. "I need to remember to pack my dress blues for Fort Worth."
"Why?"
Bradley shrugged and reached for the next slice. "Apparently, there's some sort of reception for the aviators that are selected for Top Gun in the fall. I don't know how much sway I'll have, but I'm really hoping I can pick some good ones for the next generation of the program since I'm aging out."
"You're not aging out, Roo!" you gasped. "You chose a different career trajectory!"
"I mean..."
"Stop. You're not old. Don't even try to tell me you're old."
"I'll be forty soon."
"You're thirty-eight."
"That's almost forty."
"You look like a DILF."
He reached for the last slice of pizza, folded it up and ate it while he reached for Rose. Like usual, she curled up on her father. Her features looked so much like his, but he was always the first one to argue with you about that, so you said nothing while he chewed up his food.
"I need you to help me pack for hot as hell Texas. I'm thinking just shorts besides my flight suits and uniforms?"
"I'll help you as soon as Rose goes to sleep for the night."
Bradley took the reins for the rest of the evening while you tried not to fall asleep before the baby. That was much easier said than done, but at least Bradley supervised tummy time while Tramp licked Rose, and then he gave her a bath. He read bedtime stories and changed her into pajamas so you didn't have to, gently setting her in her crib before joining you where you sat in bed yawning.
"You okay?" he asked, brushing his lips along your cheek before heading to the closet to start pulling out clothes to pack.
"Yeah. I just wish I didn't order the pizza, because it's empty calories, and it probably made me feel worse and more exhausted in the long run."
"But it was delicious," he muttered, piling up some of his favorite tropical print shirts. "Be honest, how many of these do you think I'll need?"
You snorted. "Unless every night is happy hour at the Copacabana, probably none. But knowing you, I'd pack at least two."
"See, you understand," he muttered with a smile as you chose two of your favorites and handed them to him. It was strange watching him load things into a duffle bag for something other than a deployment or special mission. You knew exactly how long he'd be gone. You knew it was just for a week and that he could FaceTime you and Rose whenever he wanted to, but it still felt like you were sending him away.
"We're going to miss you."
He immediately tossed the bag onto the floor and joined you in bed. "Don't cry, Baby Girl," he whispered, swiping at tears you hadn't realized were already filling your eyes. "I'll barely be gone at all. And I don't even have to finish packing tonight. I can do it later."
You nodded and let him envelope you in his warmth. That's how you eventually fell asleep.
----------------------------------
"This sucks," Bradley said for probably the hundredth time in the past hour. Standing at the curb at San Diego International Airport with a beautiful wife and a beautiful daughter, being forced to leave them for a week, was actually awful. He didn't want to go. He wanted to continue to cradle Rose against his chest with his arm wrapped around you until he missed his flight.
"You have to go now so hopefully you can do this less frequently in the future," you whispered, voice shaky with emotion. You looked really tired, and Bradley knew you wouldn't get much of a break this week. That's why he'd arranged for Nat to check on you at home a few times whether you wanted her to or not.
"Count on it, Sweetheart," he murmured, placing kisses to Rosie's soft hair as her little fingers poked at the insignia pins on his uniform. "And I need you to be a perfect Nugget for Mommy. I'll call later tonight after I get settled in the barracks."
"Okay." Your voice was muffled as you buried your face against his neck. "I love you."
"I love you both," he promised, collecting his final kisses from Rose before buckling her into her car seat in the back of the red Bronco. Then he got a particularly filthy kiss from you that left both of you grinning before you started to shove him toward the airport entrance.
"You need to go or you'll miss your flight. And then Mav will be on my case about it."
Before he ducked inside, he cupped his free hand to his mouth and shouted, "I love you!" He watched you blow him a kiss and then pull away from the curb before he headed to the counter to drop off his bag.
He hated traveling like this, in his uniform. It felt like everyone milling around, trying to check their bags, was looking at him. He was only wearing it today, because he wasn't sure what to expect when he arrived at a base he'd only visited one time years ago. The last thing he wanted was to seem unprepared in front of an admiral, so he wore his khakis as a precaution.
"Lieutenant Commander. Where are you headed?" asked the airline agent when she looked at his pins.
Impressed, he replied, "Dallas-Fort Worth."
She took his duffle, wished him a good flight, and then Bradley slept for the entire time he was in the air. Maybe you weren't the only one who was exhausted, because the nap seemed to do wonders for him. He woke up feeling rested, and just as soon as he sent a text letting you know he landed, he was off in search of a rental car.
To his absolute delight, all he had to do was ask nicely and flash his most charming smile, and he was handed the keys to a brand new, black Bronco. It was a model year newer than your red one back at home, and he was excited to scrutinize all of the little differences as he drove it around for the week.
"Don't like the lack of a car seat," he muttered, tossing his bag onto the backseat where he was so used to seeing Rose's infant carrier.
Was he really that guy? Did he already miss his kid enough that he had to open up the photo gallery in his phone and scroll through a few pictures before he could drive away? Apparently he was, and it made him ache to be away from her. This was so much worse than going to La Jolla without his daughter, because right now, he had neither of you.
When his stomach started rumbling for dinner, he drove to the barracks and showed his identification, only to be told his room wasn't ready yet. So he went right back out to the Bronco in search of dinner. He knew the name of a tavern popular with officers in the area, so he typed it into his GPS and headed in the direction it told him. He had to laugh, figuring he was about to walk into the Lone Star version of the Hard Deck, but that's kind of what he wanted right now. Dinner somewhere that felt comfortable if not familiar.
"Oof." It looked like a dump compared to his bar at home, but it seemed popular, and he was hungry enough that it didn't matter. When he walked in, he took a quick survey of the space before grabbing an empty stool at the bar. He ordered your favorite beer and a sandwich and took his phone out, careful not to set it on the bar in case the owner was part of some sort of association along with Penny.
He tried reading an article, but he felt as though he was being watched. Bradley tried to ignore it, fairly certain he didn't know anyone on base here, but the feeling nagged at him while he ate. The twang of music playing on the jukebox was distracting, but not distracting enough. When he finished his food and wiped his mouth with a napkin, he picked up his bottle and drained the rest of his beer while he glanced around.
Then he saw a young woman in a flight suit playing pool not too far from his spot at the bar. Her bright blue eyes were focused on his face, and her lips curled into a grin before she bent to sink her shot. Her patches told him she originated from Virginia Beach like he did, and that her call sign was Indigo. As Bradley turned, ready to sign his bill and leave, he saw her approach out of the corner of his eye.
"Can I help you?" he asked, turning her way again with one eyebrow raised. She was attractive, even up close, and he remained silent while her gaze traveled from his face down to his chest where his name tag was displayed. Then she gasped in delight.
"Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw," she said, eyes snapping back up to meet his. "All the way from Top Gun. I've been waiting to meet you for weeks, Sir."
------------------------------
Well, I hope BG is having a nice time at home without her husband. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls
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Hi! saw your taking requests, can i ask for dark s2 rafe and bimbo gf who rafe takes with him to bahamas and its like all the pogues on their trying to take the cross and she’s just oblivious and they have sex? Hope you like it!!
A/n: it didn’t end up that dark and was more or less just Rafe being controlling. I hope you like it tho 💖
Warnings: smut, public sex, light degradation, praising, Rafe is a warning in himself.
On the Beach
“Ray, need you..” You whine as Rafe leads you down onto the beach. You’d now been in the Bahamas for a total of three days and he’d still refused to touch you. The worst part was you couldn’t even touch yourself as that goes against his rules.
Rafe had a whole other plan which included him, you, a tiny bikini and a very deserted beach.
“Quit being a brat, d’ya want me to leave you out here? All alone?” He snaps, gripping your plush cheeks between his index finger and thumb. Rafe had trained you well enough to know that you were terrified of him leaving you, even momentarily.
Truthfully, you didn’t know when it all began. One moment you were dancing at a party with some friends when you first meet Rafe. A few months later, you are completely dependent on him and being taken to the Bahamas.
Rafe had practically conditioned you to act obedient and do as he says. This mostly worked for you since it almost always worked in your favour. He’d yell at you whilst angry and high, next day you’re getting a new piece of jewellery.
He’d refused to tell you anything about the cross and him killing Sheriff Peterkin. It helped the fact you hardly ever question him, aside from the usual bratty outbursts which became less and less frequent recently.
All you know is that Rafe had taken you on a shopping day then you were being pulled all the way to the Bahamas. Once again, you never questioned any of it and even believed Rafe’s lies about him wanting to take you somewhere special.
An absent minded smile crosses your lips as Rafe tugs you down to a secluded part of the beach. He may like the idea of people knowing who you belong to but that doesn’t mean he wants them seeing you like this.
“Happy now?” He teases with a smirk, looking down at you. “Come on, gimme a kiss.”
With a giggle, you tug him to your own height and press a soft kiss to his lips. It momentary but enough to get Rafe hooked. He’d spend days focused on the cross, now he was going to focus on his girl.
“C’mon, baby, wanna feel ya. Can y’do that f’me?” Rafe whisper, leaning down against your ear which earned him a ditsy but earnest nod. “Good girl, strip f’me, baby.”
“Here?”
“Yes, here. Why d’ya think I took you out here, to look at pretty shells?” Rafe mocks, his hands moving to tugs the pair of tiny shorts from you, leaving you in only a tiny bikini. It was a soft baby pink colour and Rafe had bought it for you when shopping a few weeks prior.
“So pretty, baby. My pretty girl.” He smirks, letting his veiny hands cup your ass through the poor excuse for a bikini bottom. All it took was a hard smack to your ass for you to take the hint and sit down on the nearest rocks.
“Such a good girl.” Rafe praises, tugging his khaki shorts off quickly to reveal his black boxers. It made you bite down on your bottom lip excitedly. Whilst Rafe knew you were the smartest in the room and on some occasions are the dumbest, you were always so obedient for him.
Rafe couldn’t help himself as he pulled his boxers down with a clean tug before practically tearing  your now soaked bikini bottoms off of you. His lips met your neck as he peppered kisses, not even bothering to prepare you before thrusting in.
“R- Ray..” you let you a soft gasp at the sudden intrusion. It was clear he’d been pent up for days now so had no plans on holding back. Rafe knew it took ages to get you used to his cock every time but this time, he didn’t care.
“Fuck, feel so good, baby. So fuckin’ tight f’me.” Rafe groans between each thrust. Slowly, your pain turned into pleasure and you didn’t even mind the strange sensation that went through you with every thrust.
You let out a series of whimpers as he fucked in and out of you. Everything felt spacey as your mind faded away. You could feel yourself on the edge of coming without even knowing it.
“Rafey, need it.. please, lemme cum.” You murmur in a soft dumb plead. Each thrust gets harder as you let out moan after moan, Rafe’s hand moving to cover your lips. It
“Jesus, kid, y’want this whole fuckin’ island to hear y’acting like a desperate whore?” He mocks, only getting harder as he feels his release coming soon. “C’mon, baby, cum f’me.”
With that, you both released. His hand slips from your lips to cup your face. Rafe looked down at you with a dark smirk, clearly satisfied with himself like any other time.
“My good girl, ‘kay?”
#dark!rafe cameron#dark!rafe#drew starkey smut#rafe cameron smut#rafe obx#rafe cameron prompt#rafe smut#season 2 rafe#bimbo!reader
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aaaaa i need to talk about yellow face i am so excited with where his character is heading. the entire point of him is he craves everyone’s eyes on him 24/7 and he used to do the most horrendous shit to make that happen but over time he calmed down when he realised he doesn’t need that to get the validation he needs, but when he lost clock- the only person to really promise to do better for him and try to be a good friend to him- he just completely flipped his shit and is even worse off than before, demanding everyone to praise him and hurting anyone who isn’t immediately benefiting him. Good.
#im a yellow face Fan and defender and apologist first and a person second#i will Never let go of the idea that he’s acting out like this again because of clock being gone. why else would it happeknIMMERIWTELY after#his elimination#clock had him the moment he said ‘i promise to do better going clock wise’. THATS THE FIRST TIME ANYONES EVER SAID ANYTHINGGGG LIKE THAT TO#YELLOW FACE#battle for dream island#bfdi#bfdia#bfb#tpot#bfdi yellow face#bfb yellow face#tpot yellow face#yellowclock#tpot Spoilers#tpot 8 spoilers
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He wouldn't blame Anya for biting his arm. If the roles were reversed, he'd probably do the same thing.
But Jesus Christ, that hurt!
His arms let go, releasing Anya with ease. One hand moved to rub at the spot where teeth had sunk into, seeing the little intents from teeth and the redness slowly springing up. His gaze was quick back onto Anya.
Why couldn't they be safe, if they had a plan and could act on it? His mouth opened, then closed briefly. "Anya." His voice was cautious, for her. "Anya, just breathe for a moment." He didn't dare step forward, as he didn't want to seem like he'd cage her in like some animal. Also, cornering her would be a bad idea. Probably wouldn't calm someone down. So he didn't move.
"Look, there has to be a chance we get off this ship. That we can get back home and have a life outside of this awful enclosed space." He insisted. He wanted to see his family again. His wife, his children. He wanted to feel the breeze on his skin again, walk around with his shoes off on the grass. Hell, he's starting to forget the faces of his family from being away so long. He wanted to go home and he will make sure they do. "We'll get off the ship. I promise. I promise, Anya."
Is it a promise that Swansea can keep, though?
A hand now raised to brush his hair back, contemplating. Swansea had a plan, he's just needing to set it into motion. And he-- His brain registers in a moment, a bit after Anya's already darted out, that she had run. Another moment, and his head is turning to look at the empty doorway.
"Anya?" He questioned out-loud, moving to the doorway. Then, he began to run after. He's never been the fastest, so he's more like.. Trailing behind.
[ @curlygrant44 @nursexanya ]
this thread is getting too long so it’s branching off time <3
”Stay still— Wait— please stay still—“ Anya begs as she tries to hold Jimmy down to the bed, but she knows well, by now, that nothing could be easy for her.
He falls and she can’t catch him, she can’t even bring herself to try. Blood trickles to the floor in scattered drops as he drags himself back up, towards Curly, and for a moment she watches in fear of what he might do.
But he only cries and mutters things she can’t even begin to make sense of, and for a moment, Anya is still, only watching as he weeps to his Captain.
Then she sees more blood trickling onto the floor, and remembers she has a job to do. She grabs a roll of bandages from the cabinet, but hesitates to get any closer than she has to. She looks back at Swansea, then at Jimmy and Curly, then at the bandages in her hands. Once again, she’s useless.
She takes a tentative step forward, then another, then slowly reaches for Jimmy’s shoulder, “I- You’re bleeding,” She tries, wondering if he can even hear her, “I need to take care of that.”
( @swan-and-bolts @curlygrant44 @cptjimmy yall lmk if anything needs changed!!)
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for real how epic that akd crushes this role for 6 seasons where they are acting it tf up and whenever they appear guaranteed Very Present when they contrast so much against the backdrop of the rest of the series' milieu in addition to having a usual intensity in demeanor and billions had to hold the role back to avoid eclipsing its supposed core parts but didn't just try to get rid of them about it and so we get all this energy already and the constant nonbinarity too. win
#winston billions#asia kate dillon#really showed up for a couple of actors just every instant giving utter performances#billions unable to contain them so we're shortchanged on behalf of these other roles that it very much can contain#and yet they also recognized like well this is gold so how about we absolutely never let them go#the epic highs & lows of billions giving taylor all their prominence in s4 only to then forever pull back on that#no they can't gain their autonomy again pre finale. no they can't escape wendy rhoades our insisted upon Centrist Hero core part lmao#winston fr it was like well we wrote a guy to be laughed at & pwned & he killed it....i guess we'll just do that for the rest of the show?#anyways nothing new here just thinking like Epic....Nonbinary#the idiosyncrasy that billions Can contain that other shows can't b/c billions has its deliberate off the railsness#and so for taylor to get to be this part that is even particularly idiosyncratic amongst that....scintillating. mwah#including being the closest to actually handling the idiosyncrasy of the autistic guy....#if they were Really allowed to be so powerful as to cast off the Billions' Correctness ideas (which they can't b/c billions can't)#winston could be like no but for real re: wendy....and then there's a problem if taylor ever did truly just stop bothering w/her lol#anyways fr their getting to put the So Gender out there via also overall getting to be So Character making the series 900x more engaging#well no breaking news to anyone here i'm sure but let's post about it again for sure yknow. anytime....Them#sure had Writing behind it from the start but then the Acting & [actual nonbinary person] providing So much crucial energy#all the more of that Need for the acting in just like. peak That re: winston lol. the acting Making it a part....#while the writing never strained itself trying to shift that distribution of effort lol. all up to the magic of actor w. roland....#also at all present in [so your character being much less hindered would break open the rest of the series' limitations huh] for taylor....#hooraayyy w/the most room for taylor in s4 but then that was as far as they could let them go & so shortchanged beyond that forever#and wayyy too much wendy & wags furiously held at the center of s7 like. taylor sacker philip teamup would be done w/this in 5 min?#skill issue for wendy & wags & for the series overall in not being able to Not focus 90098293hz of affection there at other roles' expense#didn't need all that axe either of course; another Thwartation device. if rian was gonna be like that should've written her out s5 or 6#dollar bill is here because he just has to be here? at least they didn't try to focus on him all thee time or anything but smh#well anyways lmfao the point is against all odds still all this serendipity for Taylor Mason akd tour de force & gendering good for us all
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fuck
#like idk i never realized just how bad she hurt me. i didnt even rly realize she hurt me at all#bc there are so so so many ways she sldve reacted so much worse. but like i never thought someone cld just straight up ignore it.#like i get the way i told her was dumb and confusing. ok. i can understand that. whatever#but idk. she said she wished my sister had told her years earlier so that she cldve helped her back then#but then suddenly it's different when it's me. suddenly it's 'but youve always been my little girl' and 'oh i dont know that sounds dangerou#s' and 'are you sure?' and 'how long have you felt like this'#well it's been almost 5 fucking years now and it hasnt changed. i havent changed. fuck#i trusted her. i trusted her to be there for me and to support me and to accept me and she threw it back in my face and never even blinked#i can never ever trust her again and she doesnt care. she doesnt even know bc shes so wrapped up in all the fucking lies she tells herself#fuck. she did everything wrong. fuck. i can never fully trust anyone with this part of me again bc of her#and it's awful bc it's such an important part of me. it brings me so much joy and i think on it often and i love myself for it#but it's just simmering in my chest and every time i think of letting it hit air again i freeze bc i thought it was safe once and it WASNT.#i wanted to get my name changed before high school. i wanted to start the medical process. i wanted all the thing i thought shed do for me.#my wants and my understanding of my identity has changed now but it still hurts.#it hurts so bad to see other ppl my age get all of that and to have the support of their family and to not be afraid to put a name to it all#im happy for them. but it's so awful hearing her point those ppl out w no self awareness like oh thats so good for them isnt that sweet#I AM RIGHT HERE! YOU COULD BE DOING ALL OF THAT! I NEEDED YOU TO BE THAT FOR ME!#and every time she does acknowledge it she gets it completely wrong or it's just to bemoan how little she understands#'oh everyones changing their name now its so confusing' 'im really trying i dont know what else you want from me' NO YOURE NOT! YOURE NOT!#YOUVE NEVER BEEN WILLING TO TRY. NOT FOR ME.#you never fucking loved me you loved the idea of what you thought i would be and you cant fucking let it go even when the truth is staring#you dead in the face. fuck. you complain about how i 'hate you' or 'think youre stupid' well maybw treat me with an ounce of respect and act#like you understand the things youve EXPLICITLY BEEN TOLD. even a little.#but honestly it's too late. if she were to suddenly have a change of heart now i wouldnt give a damn.#the damage is done you dont get to have this part of me and act like youre such a good and supportive mother.#i cant even say i hate her. i love her but shes hurt me more than anyone else ever has and i can never trust her to actually love me or even#fucking see me or support anything about me that actually matters to me#i dont know. i dont know. thinking about it again.#ive thought abt telling my dad. not bc it wld do any good but bc ik he values honesty and maybe hed throw me a 'damn that sucks'#my sister said this is something i have to fight on but she doesnt get it. i have no ground to stand on as far as shes concerned
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YEAHHHH!!!!!! >:D
Ancha I am SO glad you liked it because. Ough. I started writing it at like 11 at night and just. Kept going??? I was so so pumped!!!
I'm gonna try and follow where you went with the ideas, gimme a sec-
Okay so, yeah! Nightmare, at this point, views the training has his relax time! Kinda how someone can spend all their time doing work, say writing reports, and still enjoy writing stories in their free time! It still challenges him and interests him, but it's in a way with low stress. His knights can improve inch by inch now that their foundation is stable! And the training room is one of the most secure rooms in the castle, thanks to reinforcing it to withstand magic attacks!
And I really really wanted to take on idea of each of the guy's strengths! You got it perfectly so I'll try not to linger, but I kinda wanted to run off that original idea I had for the Knights knowing eachother and being in sync, but now it's more fitting to their personalities since I've gone into more depth with them! Killer has greatly influenced the others, in the way they fight and the way they act on the battlefield. It's like setting loose a feral animal on all these Knights who are Not Ready for dirty fighting. (Dust was used to diplomatic scuffles gone wrong, usually with the use of enchanted weaponry, Horror just. Did not fight prior to this. Abd Cross, as mentioned, was a muscle-memiry routine combat kinda guy!) And in the same breath, Killer learned from them too! Night might be their mentor, but Killer was committed to being a good influence on them, even if it didn't register to any of them-
A lot of that was also me trying to get a grip on how they'd behave in such a space alone with Night. Killer the most relaxed, Cross the most nervous, etc! And the little banter between them was fun!! (I also was trying to use technique I learned recently so combat reflection was a good opportunity for it, haha!)
One of my favorite bits in the beginning I think was, like you mentioned, Nightmare making sure they left training on a high note! I took the idea from your Q&A drabble actually, when u mentioned Night looking for ways to better keep hold of his knights? Yeah, he ensures to be even more vocal about what he noticed everyone doing well, just so they know! And Cross takes the praise the best visually, but he can tell the others at least seem pleased by it <3
Lastly!!! Yes, the bed-time was meant to be sorta a hint to the incoming turn of events, but it's also just meant to be a cute lil cameo too!! I think a few things never quite left his habits (like, his body getting more tired around Bedtime even though he regularly skipped sleep all together anymore) because. Y'know! Adult body still has Kid Night in there running the show! And because of the weird suspended state of his mind, it left him with odd quirks!
Okay, okay, hearing that you enjoyed the drama bit makes me SO happy, because this time I wanted to go with sonething that felt a bit more Nightmare-accurate. Night was always a quiet kid, a fawn rather than fight or flight, he kept his emotions tight to his chest because so few people cared in the first place. So, when his magic (the thing that made his moves for him, before he could freeze up or downplay or smother his feelings) Leaves? He's exhausted, and confused, and scared, and frankly out of it. He fawns again!
And the magic leaving, this time I wanted it to feel like it was in a moment of lull, no tension, no stakes (aside from a stinky Killer) and no sign for Night that anything was wrong. It all just dipped at once, and as it left his awareness it left him dizzy, disoriented, and!!!! I'm glad that you caught that he couldn't feel anything because the magic refused to work with him anymore!!! So the normal input didn't transfer to him!!! That weird lack of senses was also sort of my excuse to let the Knights start freaking out! Because idk how clear it was (intentionally not very if I did my job right lol-) but when Night's balance starts to screw up, Killer turns around. But it's Night initially who reaches out and grabs his arm, and then Killer has indirect permission to support his weight further and grab hold of him! Night subconsciously reached out to Killer, even if he didn't realize it in the moment. And ofc that's Killer being like 'oh that's not normal'.
And!!! Like in the og drabble, Dust goes on high alert immediately, but this time Cross and Horror hesitate! There's a part that Nightmare misses where Horror expresses worry and suggests he should grab the first aid and take a look, and Killer tells him no. Because Night (in that moment) is unresponsive, and Killer doesn't think Horror coukd help even if he tried. He might make it worse. And Horror tries to press his offer, before Night comes-to again to hear Killer snap at Horror to get Ccino! And like you said, Killer has no idea what's happening, but he's sure if anyone could help it would be Ccino! And in the meantime he just tries to keep Nightmare close, keep him steady. He doesn't like it one bit, but he knows he has to keep watch because Dust doesn't sense/see anyone, and Cross doesn't either as he guards the door!
And, ofc, Killer was horrified to find what was basically a babybones in his arms when all the goop left, but he was also shaken because. Well. That's the Prince from the tapestry. Night doesn't make the connection, but he'd seen images of Nightmare a few times, abd certainly images of his twin, enough to recognize that. Yeah. That's the same guy. And he can't explain it, but since Dust chimes in with magic loss, Killer makes some leaps in judgement. (Also!!! Dust isn't good with magic usually, but Nightmare's was so impressive it was always looming. The moment it was gone he spoke up. He's also OBNOXIOUSLY familiar with symptoms of magic loss. For. Obvious reasons 🙏)
Nightmare, in his fawning, couldn't decide whether the voice in his head reminding him that these Knights were kind, loyal souls was right, or if the instincts telling him to get away NOW were winning. He compromised in the firm of 'can't really move anyways so I'll sit here and be scared'.
And!!!!! I'm glad u liked Killer telling Cross to hold onto the magic! Killer's smart, and a fast thinker, and Cross was the nearest thing with any chance if keeping his king from??? Melting??? And to Cross' credit he DID grab it! He did great! (He feels awful about it after because from what *he* saw, it didn't help. It did! He just doesn't know!)
And. Ccino's piece in this was probably the part I was least certain on. Because Ccino assumed the Knights somehow set Nightmare into one of his worse episodes. Or, worse, he worried Night accidentally hurt one of the Knights and panicked. Horror was pretty vague about why he needed to hurry. And Ccino gets there and- well.
He hasn't seen that little skull in seven years, and it's got a big crack, and it's trembling, and one big eyelight is looking up at him. Nightmare was always his little brother, and yet all at once his instincts kicked back in. This was no powerful bomb waiting to be nudged just too far before exploding, not some otherworldly tyrant. This was his Nighty, somehow back to the way he was the day he protected his twin and swore into the prophecy. This was HIS Nighty.
So, for the first time in a while he drops pretenses. There's no effort to hide him away, Ccino knows well enough that trying to remove Nightmare from the Knight's vision right now would possibly get them both in hot water. So he does what he can, throws open his arms, and coddled his little brother tightly. So, so tightly. He has no idea how, or why, and obviously it's the same Night who'd spent the morning writing laws, but it was so surreal that he just had to get him close!!!!!
And Night, yeah, he just feels safe with Ccino, and irrational mind running off of a huge magic-drop? He deemed Ccino's arms a perfect place to shed some tears and then pass out-
If I had to do a follow-up it'd definitely be either a Ccino or Killer chapter following either the moment Night is free of the goop (Killer) or the moment he enters the training room (Ccino) and then the conversational aftermath! (I also think they move the whole party to Nightmare's room eventually, and somewhere along the line Dust brings up that lighter foods might help-) just lil silly details haha! But it's basically a force of nature making the Knights and Ccino agree to a pact of sorts just to agree to help Nightmare. He's still the king. He's just... young now. Again.
Okay I got a lil wild but- I'm just so so happy you enjoyed it!!! A healthy balance if shenanigans for the boys, panic for Nightmare, and an unexpected surprise for Ccino!!!!
New Age AU (The Magic Retreats)
Hi guys!!! So, I wrote this one in a fit of passion, but here's a brief take 2 on the most important chapter of the fic and the first one I posted! (In which Night becomes Tiny again :] ) As always this drabble is unedited and un-checked so uhh. Good luck!
(HI @ancha-aus , @papiliovolens , and @mutzelputz welcome back!)
The days felt like they were growing longer again. Maybe it was the change of the seasons, or the workload ramping up again making his nights bleed into his mornings. No matter the case, Nightmare was lucky to have moments of rest from his endless piles of debts and taxes and laws and requests that were strewn all about his office. They were nice, neat, piles now, but they seemed to be an endless cycle. He'd solve one problem and it would result in a new report of catastrophe somewhere else.
Often, he wondered whether it was that his Mother's ruling style had truly worked, or if she'd ignored it. After all, she'd been a God amongst mortals, why would she care for a few challenged livelihoods amidst her paradise?
The sharp clash of metal on magic drew Nightmare's attention back to the present. Against all odds, he'd managed to convince Cross to start training his sword again. When Cross had first started getting lessons to properly control his magic, harnessing even whisps of Nightmare's own spells on occasion, he'd quickly neglected his physical training. Over the last few weeks, Nightmare had voiced his worry that Cross might find himself up against another foe like Dust. One who he couldn't simply control. He needed to re-learn his old battle tactics. Only then, he'd promised, they would move on to harnessing both at once.
So, now, he was sparring against Horror in the training room. Nightmare sat off to the side on the benches, Dust and Killer on either side of him watching intently. Two of his tendrils hovered readily before him, ready to pounce to intercept any wayward attacks or truly dangerous intent, though he trusted his Knight to not put his newest comrade in any real danger. The other two tendrils lay lax behind the bench, curling comfortably beneath where his other Knights sat at his sides.
These were the sorts of daily distractions he enjoyed. Which pulled him away from the stress of the papers and the outside world. He could focus solely on his charges and how best to help them. They helped him so often, he just wanted to return the favor.
His eyelight followed the movements, as Horror stayed more or less right on Cross's tail. His axe swung slower than normal, and it was obvious he was taking the training seriously without giving Cross a heart-attack from the force of his normal blows. It wasn't often Nightmare allowed them to pair up precisely because of that. Horror had no magic for Cross to control, none that would help him at least. Meanwhile, Horror's brute strength could snap Cross like a twig if something were to go slightly awry.
A swing of the axe, Cross's longsword cracking against the handle as he blocked. A push-off, sending Cross back a few steps before he swung. Missed. The axe was on him again, this time towards his side. Cross jumped over it, swung his sword. Missed again. The axe came in again, from above. A narrow block, one which forced Cross to his knee, before Horror let up.
Horror was simply a marvel of physical combat. He hadn't been a good fighter when Nightmare met him, but he'd learned very quickly. From watching the guards, from listening to Nightmare. Though, Nightmare was almost positive Killer had actually been his biggest influence. Killer, the cockpit, single Knight at that time. He'd taken Dust under his supervision at the time, practically heading the dismantling of the crime rings Dust knew so well all on his own. Meanwhile, Nightmare was working with Horror to understand how to fix the farming situation across the kingdom. Once things settled, and Nightmare expressed interest in having Horror stick around, it was Killer who showed off in combat training. Horror spun off his feet and pushed off his hands in the way expected of a much smaller, leaner, monster. Very similar to how Killer fought when he was playing around.
It was evidently too unfamiliar for Cross. He'd been taught formal swordplay, but here in this kingdom? That was about as useful as playing with a slingshot and trying to operate a trebuchet. It seemed similar, but it could only get one so far.
Cross had been steadily improving, of course. Just a year or so ago, Cross had been besting all the rest of the royal guard out on the training field. But placed against Killer, the best of the best at practical combat, no holds bar? He'd fumbled. Now, Nightmare knew Cross could hold his own against his proudest Knight. That meant a lot in such a short time. Pride filled his chest at the thought, as he watched the two of them clash again and again.
He knew his time was running short for today. He'd had Dust and Killer work on their team-building and attack him earlier on in training while Cross and Horror were warming up. As he already knew, they were chatty, but very efficient in their coordination.
"On your left!" Killer would call out. Dust would simply duck as Killer instead vaulted over his head as though emerging from the shorter Knight's shadow, knife in hand, glowing red with energy.
Killer's use of deceptive verbal cues was a talent he'd come up with all his own. Nightmare remembered him pestering Dust over it every dinner for a week after he'd first thought of it. Dust had seemed annoyed at first, but Nightmare could tell after the first session of them trying it out, against him? He'd been unaware, and if his magic didn't work separate from his mind on occasion, they would have gotten him in the first two minutes.
They'd used it again earlier, and even after several years it still kept Nightmare on his toes. He figured that was why he felt tired as he watched the two locked in mock battle before him. The cognitive challenges did tend to make his socket heavy with sleep. And he hated to admit it, but he always knew about when to end their afternoon trainings, because it lined up with when his mind would start to lag. Even years later, his body still seemed to respond to the familiar draw of a long-discarded bed time.
He'd let them exchange a few more blows, before calling it off and ushering them all off to clean up before dinner. Even if he knew only Cross and Dust would go wash up. Horror would go change out of his training gear into clean clothes, he hated to look messy at the dinner table, abd Killer would simply stick to his side like glue.
It never was a point of complaint, he appreciated the commitment, but sometimes he really did wish he'd at least take a moment to swap clothes. Sometimes he tracked all sorts of dirt and scraps of magic out of the training room and into the halls.
Mm. The clashing seemed to have reached a rhythm. That meant Cross had gotten familiar with Horror's movement patterns again. It never lasted long, Horror was very adaptable, but it did mean that Cross would be locked into the stalemate now, or it'd be an easy defeat for Horror. Better to call it now and send them off with a bit of praise. They never ceased to impress him, they'd all grown so much.
"Alright, end the match." he called. It didn't take hardly a moment for the order to register after his voice carried to the two monsters.
Cross was the first to pull away, with Horror letting his swing fall short and his Axe's momentum swing up and into the air. He caught the grip and almost immediately stuffed it back into its own holster along his back. Cross sheathed his sword, and while a bit out of breath, he still grinned triumphantly and bowed amicably to Horror. Horror returned it with a nod. Their little ritual.
"Wonderful work today, all of you." Nightmare announced, his front two tendrils slinking back to his sides as they no longer had danger to be hyper aware of. To defend against. "Tomorrow, I want to see you two spar again, I believe you are making great leaps in progress, Cross. Dust will provide you both with terrain obstacles in the form of erratic magic attacks to simulate a more turbulent battle field and provide Horror with more opportunity to practice dodging." The suggestion seemed well-recieved, and Nightmare let his good eyelight turn to Killer, who sat grinning beside him. "Killer, you and I will be doing more endurance training for your magic."
"Looking forward to it, my Lord," Killer replied.
That made Nightmare chuckle a bit. Once upon a time, Killer would tense up at the premise of magic training. Then, as he grew bolder, groan at the mention. He was not proficient in the sort of magic Cross, Dust, or he himself relied on, but his preferred weapon was a knife or two summoned by his own soul. Since it was magic, Nightmare insisted he learn to better sustain and alter it rather than letting it atrophy in the wake of his extensive physical training. Now, seeing him grin lazily at the idea, not a worry weighing on his soul? It made Nightmare feel a lot more justified in making the rambunctious Knight do the more "boring" practical training.
"If we understand what to expect for the afternoon tomorrow, then you are dismissed. I will see you all at dinner," he declared. Humor filled his chest at the warmth which rolled off his knights at the mention of food. Dinner was always cooked by Ccino, and Ccino was the best cook. Nightmare would know.
He watched as Cross gave a little salute before he turned on his heel to begin to follow Horror's lumbering gait towards the heavy doors separating this room from the hall. The newest Knight's voice was quiet, but excitable as he started to reflect on his techniques to Horror. He always debriefed after a training.
Beside him, Dust swung forward off the bench and landed silently, already moving to follow the other two. His body-language always seemed disgruntled, and his expression was hidden under his darkened hood, but Nightmare knew he was pleased with his work tonight. Content with what he had accomplished.
"Cross is gettin' a lot faster." Killer's voice was calm beside him, and Nightmare followed the other's hollow gaze to where the other three were discarding their gear, hanging it up on the racks near the door where they always stored the supplies.
Four spaces, one for each knight. Killer had gouged his name into the wooden base of his own years ago.
"I agree." Nightmare let one of his tendrils wrap at the ground around a leg of the bench. "It helps that he is eager and willing to improve on his skills. And that he has others to lean on as he continues to learn."
Killer's scoff quickly devolved into a laugh at the thinly veiled praise. It wasn't unusual of him to slip it into conversation. A quick, gentle nudge of praise. Acknowledgement and appreciation. Killer had heard to most of it, and Nightmare often worried he'd find it insincere.
As far as he knew, he never did.
"You should go put up your armor as well." Nightmare suggested, nudging at Killer's back with a tendril.
"Yes, sir." Killer chimed, the sharpness of his laughter still on his tongue.
Nightmare rose simply, and Killer pushed off the bench with a quick hop. His feet planted, and Nightmare waited for him to take a step towards where the others were before moving to follow. It felt right, to see them all in one spot. Relaxed.
He moved to follow Killer's quick steps, only... All at once his vision seemed to double, and he halted himself. He could feel his tendrils lash out, moving to stabilize him against the floor of the training room. He still stood upright, just barely, but it seemed all his balance had left him. Instinctively, in a fit of habit, he shut his good socket and took a moment. The swaying feeling he was gripped by, even after a deep breath an counting to five, did not fade. The darkness which usually seemed to calm him only seemed to make the swaying worse. He could not tell if the motion was coming from him, or I the ground beneath him was shifting like the deck of a boat. Without his vision he couldn't orient up versus down, let alone find his stability again.
Opening his good socket provided him with orientation, though his vision still danced and swirled. He was looking down, down towards the brick ground, from the space behind his palm. When did he place his hand to his socket? The view included his legs, which he recognized now were shaking, and his tendrils which were trying to hold him in place.
And...
He jolted at the contact he could see but hadn't felt in the slightest. He skull reeled up so that he could see who had touched him. One hand on his elbow. The other- when did he grab Killer's arm? When had Killer turned around to look at him? Why was Killer looking at him like that?
It was Killer, who had ahold of him, though he couldn't feel the Knight's touch, and he couldn't tell if he was gripping the other's arm at all. Though he was, he could see it.
His vision warped again with the quick movement. A desperate bid to look past Killer. Was there a threat? The blurry form of Dust shot past him, he thought. Horror and Cross still seemed to be by the door.
The ceiling. Why was he looking at the ceiling? No, wait, the floor now. It grew closer, in the space between himself and Killer, as the opening for him to see it grew smaller. Then he couldn't see it at all, his vision replaced swiftly by- training gear. The leather smell invaded his senses as the rest failed him. He couldn't feel Killer, though he knew the knight was near to him. That, as far as he could tell, Killer had caught him. That he'd sunken to the ground under his own weight.
Why?
His socket wasn't being helpful. It seemed, from what he saw, that his tendrils were trying to melt away as they moved errantly to slap onto Killer's back or the ground beyond. Surely that wasn't right? His tendrils had never wavered. He shut his socket again, letting his skull sink into the training armor again.
It didn't occur to him for a few moments, that he couldn't hear his knights, until he suddenly could.
The voices were loud and grating, breaking his wobbling darkness once again as he tried to force his socket back open. What was wrong with him?
"Horror, I said go get Ccino! Now!" Killer. He'd know that voice anywhere, though he didn't like the angry tone. Like fire spitting from his tongue seemingly right above Nightmare's skull. "This isn't some sort of test, I- I don't know what this is. It can't be good."
Nightmare tried to reach out. Not physically, it felt he still couldn't control his limbs. No, he tried to sense. Did the others know what was wrong with him? Was the rising panic in his chest originating from his own emotions or theirs? Had... had one of them done something?
No, it wasn't them.
"Shit." Somewhere behind him, he heard Dust's voice hiss. "His magic levels are dropping. And fast."
For a second, Nightmare was stunned. What did he mean his magic levels were dropping? Though, it made sense. Somewhere deep in his chest he could feel it, the swaying motion as his magic tried to peel away from his bones. He-
"What do you-" Killer still sounded frustrated, and he too spat an expletive a moment later.
Nightmare, for the briefest moment, thought he felt touch again against his skull. He let his blurry socket fall closed again, the vision only worsening as his magic rocked with unseen waves of revulsion.
"Cross, try to grab his magic," Killer ordered.
The familiar splattering of the young Night would've been comforting, if the suggestion didn't fill him with dread. Killer knew better than that. They'd agreed Cross could only touch on controlling his magic. Nothing more. It was too vast.
"W-what! I- I shouldn't-" Cross attempted to stammer a defense, but Killer was quicker with words. Always had been.
"Just try. Now. Hold it in place and see if it stablizes." The command was a lot more controlled than the previous one, but his tone was leaving no room for error. "When the King and Ccino are unavailable, I'm in charge. Listen to me."
Nightmare had never heard Killer take charge in such a way before, and in his haze he might've written it off as a product of his imagination. All of this being some sort of weird hallucination. But he felt the invasive force of Cross' magic snake over his bones.
He'd felt it before, a sort of blanket or hand-hold aimed at the ends if his tendrils which could make them twitch a bit with Cross's own will. This time he felt it creep up the length of his spine and dig unseen claws into his shoulder blades. He could feel it, just like he could now feel Killer's chin and shoulder, where his skull had been tucked. He could feel the hand supporting his back, the other his side. He felt limp as the forceful magic washed over him.
Nightmare gagged.
Cross's magic caught on something, like a hook finding the fish, and for a brief few moments, Nightmare felt like he had a ball of gunk in his non-existant gut. Something heavy and feral, trying to escape.
For just a moment, he regained a breath of awareness. He felt his Knight supporting his weight, he felt the nakedness of his back where his tendrils had completely abandoned him, he felt the emotions of the three still with him. Fear. Confusion. Anger. He didn't like it much. He still couldn't move his limbs.
And just as quickly as it was stable, the hold on the wild magic slipped away. Like the fish had broken the string.
It flowed up, like the force of a dam finally released. Through his ribcage, past his shoulders where Cross's magic seemed to dissipate all at once, into his mouth.
Nightmare regained some semblance of control over his body at that moment. As the magic seemed to rush towards freedom. He shoved away from Killer all at once, the chill of the stone hitting his palms heavily and his socket opening if only to watch as he lost it. That dark, thick, sticky magic that had marked him as a bad omen. That had gifted him the power to rule in place of his twin. Protect those he loved.
It spilled to the stone before him, and he was stunned to watched that, as he heaved suddenly labored breaths, it sunk away. Disappeared. Just like that, instead of his familiar darkness, the protective shield, the instinctive defense he had grown to know, he was staring at the floor. And the space in which his wobbling arms hid under too-big sleeves, and from the cuffs escaped perfect, pearly-white bone. Bone he could never seem to reach no matter how hard he scrubbed with water and soap. Bones that seemed so frail in the torchlight.
"My king?"
Nightmare let his eyelight raise from the ground. It wasn't as wobbly anymore, his vision slowly coming back to normal. He still took his time trailing from the ground, to look at Killer's pants. He was on his knees, hardly an arm's length away. Then the edges of his chestplate. His arms were outstretched, hovering barely away from touching Nightmare. He shook at the closeness, but didn't dare try to move. Killer's soul was wobbling. Nightmare's boww furrowed at the sight. It was very small, but he'd always notice the little changes and moves. Though, he noticed an absence of something at the back of his skull as he stared. Something missing.
Killer's face was last. He looked serious, his dark sockets not a new sight, but Nightmare hardly saw Killer so serious. He'd seen the look before. Usually when he'd see someone bothering Ccino. It had always been brief, quickly disguised under his patented sadistic grin. Killer just watched him now. As though he was sone glass sculpture ready to tip off the end of the table.
He hated, as he stared, that he couldn't- he could feel-
He tried to shift, to whip his head to look for the knight he knew should've been behind him. And he was right, of course. A glimpse of Dust's shadowed skull and tense body-language told Night he was on high-alert, but Nightmare hadn't been able to feel him. Hadn't sensed his presence at all. No emotions, no aura, no nothing.
"Woah, steady!" Killer yelped as Nightmare felt himself tilt.
Looking up at Dust had disoriented him. The weight distribution was different now. His body listed to the side, and he flinched when arms wrapped around at his sides and tugged his upper half onto soft fabric. Killer's legs. Killer had caught him.
"My king, Nightmare, it's you, right?" He sounded the same. Something told Nightmare he was uncertain.
"Y-" His attempt to speak was short-lived. His voice wasn't right. It was high-pitched and raw. All the rumble and low tones entirely missing. He couldn't be sure if he stopped on account of keeping his pride alive, or if he feared speaking in a voice he hadn't heard in years.
It didn't help that he couldn't feel them. No matter how much he tried, the only feeling in his chest was his own solitary anxiety. Balling up tighter and tighter, an old friend come home again. If he could tell what they were thinking- if he could know if he was safe...
He bit back his panic, holding in the weakness which was threatening to give him away. Though, what else was there to give? If he was right, then the prophecy had finally rejected him. Left him as an offering to a pack of wolves.
Nightmare knew he was shaking, but some irrational part of him thought that if he kept his socket shut that this would all be some absurd night terror and he'd wake up cozy in his bed, or exhausted at his desk, or maybe passed out on the floor. Somewhere else. Anywhere else.
"What's wrong?" That voice was deeply familiar, and all at once Nightmare felt like he had a surge of strength. "Why did Horror rush me back here? Where is our King?" It was Ccino. He sounded more frustrated than anything else, but he didn't need to feel his emotions to know the rise to his tone. The worry buried there.
"We finished training and everything was fine," Killer explained, tone as even as he could muster, "But when we were on our way out, he just collapsed."
Nightmare pitied him, having to tell Ccino any sort of bad news. Nightmare didn't think as he attempted again to shove himself up. If only to catch a glimpse of Ccino.
As he peered barely over Killer's shoulder, he saw what the others did. Ccino had some sort if flour or wheat all down the front of his nice apron, and a few streaks along the thighs of hid pants from where he'd probably wiped his hands along the way. His expression was a mix of concern and fury that set Nightmare's soul into a pretzel-twist of regret, and his eyelights scanned the room as he rapidly approached Killer. Obviously looking for answers.
Only, Ccino arrived to Killer's side, and his growing rage seemed to stop all at once, alongside his steps. He stared down at Nightmare with wide eyes. Nightmare stared up at him wearily. The king's sockets were beginning to water. Ccino's expression, the way his balled fists twitched and relaxed, the way he seemed to lose all the tension I'm his body, just getting a glimpse at him. Ccino recognized his face, no doubt about it.
"Nightmare?" Ccino's voice was small.
Nightmare fumbled a bit as he tried to launch away from Killer. Having Ccino so close to him simply... broke whatever had been holding back the emotional damage within. It didn't help in the slightest when Ccino crouched and immediately tugged him away from Killer and into a gentle bear-hug there on the floor.
For the first time, in a very long time, he found that the welling of tears in his sockets didn't result in dark, tarlike, goop that fell in chunks down his skull. This time the tears were real, a transparent lilac which raced down his cheeks abd planted themselves against the fabric of Ccino's tunic and apron. He wasn't wearing his fur, he was smart like that.
Ccino's arms wrapped around his back like they always did, and Nightmare felt himself slipping. Ccino was safe. He had always been safe.
Nightmare didn't have time to begin sobbing as he had expected, or to even begin to hyperventilate into Ccino's shirt or curl into a ball against his chest. The moment Ccino nuzzled the side of his skull, his vision went blurry again.
At the tightening of Ccino's grip, he heard Dust's voice again. "Magic-loss. A lot of it." Faintly rolled into his mind like a distance voice two doors over. He didn't quite catch when Killer started to speak again, or Ccino worriedly said his name. Dust was right, the magic was gone. Out of nowhere. It was a lot for his little body to handle.
#new age au#sorry I think I missed the bit about Killer and Dust being brither-coded and them not listening-#but that was another of my favorite bits!!!! Killer just can't shut up and Dust (not yet fed-up) humors it!! 3 levels of#distraction for the enemy!!
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I've been thinking a lot lately about how Kabru deprives himself.
Kabru as a character is intertwined with the idea that sometimes we have to sacrifice the needs of the few for the good of the many. He ultimately subverts this first by sabotaging the Canaries and then by letting Laios go, but in practice he's already been living a life of self-sacrifice.
Saving people, and learning the secrets of the dungeons to seal them, are what's important. Not his own comforts. Not his own desires. He forces them down until he doesn't know they're there, until one of them has to come spilling out during the confession in chapter 76.
Specifically, I think it's very significant, in a story about food and all that it entails, that Kabru is rarely shown eating. He's the deuteragonist of Dungeon Meshi, the cooking manga, but while meals are the anchoring points of Laios's journey, given loving focus, for Kabru, they're ... not.
I'm sure he eats during dungeon expeditions, in the routine way that adventurers must when they sit down to camp. But on the surface, you get the idea that Kabru spends most of his time doing his self-assigned dungeon-related tasks: meeting with people, studying them, putting together that evidence board, researching the dungeon, god knows what else. Feeding himself is secondary.
He's introduced during a meal, eating at a restaurant, just to set up the contrast between his party and Laios's. And it's the last normal meal we see him eating until the communal ending feast (if you consider Falin's dragon parts normal).
First, we get this:
Kabru's response here is such a non-answer, it strongly implies to me that he wasn't thinking about it until Rin brought it up. That he might not even be feeling the hunger signals that he logically knew he should.
They sit down to eat, but Kabru is never drawn reaching for food or eating it like the rest of his party. He only drinks.
It's possible this means nothing, that we can just assume he's putting food in his mouth off-panel, but again, this entire manga is about food. Cooking it, eating it, appreciating it, taking pleasure in it, grounding yourself in the necessary routine of it and affirming your right to live by consuming it. It's given such a huge focus.
We don't see him eat again until the harpy egg.
What a significant question for the protagonist to ask his foil in this story about eating! Aren't you hungry? Aren't you, Kabru?
He was revived only minutes ago after a violent encounter. And then he chokes down food that causes him further harm by triggering him, all because he's so determined to stay in Laios's good graces.
In his flashback, we see Milsiril trying to spoon-feed young Kabru cake that we know he doesn't like. He doesn't want to eat: he wants to be training.
Then with Mithrun, we see him eating the least-monstery monster food he can get his hands on, for the sake of survival- walking mushroom, barometz, an egg. The barometz is his first chance to make something like an a real meal, and he actually seems excited about it because he wants to replicate a lamb dish his mother used to make him!
...but he doesn't get to enjoy it like he wanted to.
Then, when all the Canaries are eating field rations ... Kabru still isn't shown eating. He's only shown giving food to Mithrun.
And of course the next time he eats is the bavarois, which for his sake is at least plant based ... but he still has to use a coping mechanism to get through it.
I don't think Kabru does this all on purpose. I think Kui does this all on purpose. Kabru's Post Traumatic Stress Disorder should be understood as informing his character just as much as Laios's autism informs his. It's another way that Kabru and Laios act as foils: where Laios takes pleasure in meals and approaches food with the excitement of discovery, Kabru's experiences with eating are tainted by his trauma. Laios indulges; Kabru denies himself. Laios is shown enjoying food, Kabru is shown struggling with it.
And I can very easily imagine a reason why Kabru might have a subconscious aversion towards eating.
Meals are the privilege of the living.
#Dungeon Meshi#Delicious in Dungeon#Kabru#Kabru of Utaya#Laios Touden#Dungeon Meshi meta#you can have him in the tags too. as a treat.#Dungeon Meshi spoilers#this was directly inspired by livelaughlaios's post about Kabru self harming but I decided it got too long to make it a direct reply#this is a theory I've been working on for weeks because I kept noticing this while skimming for screencaps#I'm hesitant to trigger tag this because of the way certain subcultures on tumblr operate#but if anyone needs me to add a content warning please let me know#also I included image descriptions! I did my best#I think they even help illustrate my points but my god were they sad to write. Kabru is so fucking sad you guys#musings with Dea
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Task force 141 reacting to their very pregnant wife still trying to clean, cook etc
This turned more into ‘Task force 141 preventing their very pregnant wife from trying to clean, cook, etc’ lmaooooo I hope that's alright
Price
HA! Good one!
No seriously, it's actually hilarious that you think you'd do anything for yourself when your hubby's around
That man has been waiting on you hand and foot since you first got together. So now that you're pregnant and you think he'd let you so much as lift a finger? You must have a serious case of pregnancy brain, sweetheart
Price is doing all the cooking, the cleaning, the running errands, etc. throughout the entirety of your pregnancy (and at least the first several months postpartum)
He's kept you practically bed bound these last few months to the point where you think there's a perfect indent of your body molded into the mattress
Seven months in, he's suddenly called away to a quick mission halfway across the globe, and you think finally you'll get some of your autonomy back...
Well, think again because who should show up at your door the next morning than your mother-in-law herself, ready to pick up where her son left off
She came at the behest of your husband, of course, and was armed with a detailed set of care instructions
What does your husband think you are? Some sort of one-of-a-kind, priceless artifact that needs special handling? (Actually that's exactly what you are. Price-less… I'll see myself out 🚶🏻♀️)
Ghost
When it comes to having some semblance of independence during your pregnancy, Ghost will give you a bit of a longer leash than Price, but only just so
You’re going for a walk around the neighborhood? Hold on, let him grab his coat to join you. Or you're going into the backyard to tend the garden? He'll pull the weeds while you water the plants
But when it comes to letting you do certain things, there are some hard nos that he will absolutely not budge on
You try to use a stepladder to reach the top of the cupboard? Stop! You'll break your neck! You try to pick up anything heavier than 10 pounds? Stop! Give it here! You try to drive?... Don't even fuckin' think about it, precious.
The farther along your pregnancy progresses, the better he gets at predicting (and intercepting) your next move
You were gonna do laundry today? Well, wouldn't you know, he's already got a load going in the washer. You were about to make dinner? Well shucks, he just ordered takeaway from that Greek place you love
His ability to read your mind is honestly impressive once you get past how damn annoying you find it. Just because you're pregnant doesn't mean you're incapable of fending for yourself, and you're tired of him acting as if otherwise
But really, you can never get mad at anything he does for you. After all, what kind of a husband would he be if he didn't take care of his missus and your little one?
Soap
If you take Ghost’s cautiousness, mix it with Price’s thoroughness, and crank it up to an 11, you get Soap
From the moment he found out you were pregnant, he put your house into full lockdown mode, stopping just short of booby trapping the front door in case you got any funny ideas
You want some fresh air? Just open a window. You want to go for a walk and stretch your legs? Just take a few turns about the living room like you're some Austenian heroine
Don't let him catch you doing any kind of physical labor, because so help him Jesus he will grab a spray bottle and use it like you're a feral alleycat he's trying to house-train (he wouldn't really... but don't test him)
You try to unload the dishwasher? Ehrr! Wrong move. You try to remake the bed? Ehrr! Nice try. You try to mop up your own mess. Ehrr! Enough already. You try to– OCH, WOULD YE BLOODY SIT DOWN, WOMAN?!
For nine long months during his requested leave from work, your husband is attached to you like some kind of loving, smothering barnacle
But doesn't he miss his job, or the lads for that matter? What if the world needs saving? What will they do without him?
Well, (in his exact words) fuck the rest of the world! You're his world, bonnie, and he'll give you everything you could ever wish for and then some
Gaz
By far, you have the most independence with Gaz than you would with any of the other three men… at least, at the beginning of your pregnancy, that is
Once you get to around five or six months he becomes just as helicopter-y as all the others; he's just ever so slightly more bearable, perhaps
There's lots of peeking his head around the corner to check on you throughout the day or appearing seemingly out of thin air whenever you're doing something he'd rather you wouldn't
You've lost count of the number of times you've been in the middle of cooking or hanging up the laundry or whatever and his hand has suddenly appeared out of nowhere, gently taking the object from you before directing you to sit and rest
And like, look. He knows you can handle yourself. He knows you could conquer the whole world if you wanted to. That's one of the things he loves about you the most
But seeing you like this – so fragile, so vulnerable, so beautiful and soft and pregnant with his child; his child – it just… It makes him…
He just needs to do these things for you, alright, love? Just let him take care of you, please? Would you let him do that?
You already have so much you have to carry. Let him ease some of the burden off your shoulders. Let him do these small things for you because they don't even compare to all that you're doing for him 🥲
#wiw asks#john price x reader#captain john price x reader#captain price x reader#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost x reader#john mactavish x reader#john soap mactavish x reader#soap x reader#kyle garrick x reader#kyle gaz garrick x reader#gaz x reader#john price#simon riley#john mactavish#kyle garrick#tf 141 x reader#task force 141 x reader#cod x reader#cod mw3#call of duty#modern warfare 3#female reader
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Chaotic fem. reader/Best friend Bakugo
"I'm ready to be a mother," you stated out of nothing.
Bakugo was obviously taken back by your comment.
"Did you see something on tiktok that made you think that?" he looked at you while you kept scrolling in your phone. "You need a partner to procreate dumbass,"
"I know I need a man to procreate, but I thought that you could help me on that one," you bit your nails, showing less interest than a rock.
He left his phone aside so he could analyze you properly if you were talking seriously or not.
"I'm not going to introduce you to my side kick, He's like twenty," he tested.
"Twenty??? I'm almost twenty eight, that's still a reasonable age gap, " you gasped because his side kick didn't look like he was twenty. You thought that he would at least be twenty-three.
"No it's not"
After almost ten years of being friends, Bakugo was so used to your shit. The time that you wanted to go surfing? He laughed at your face when you didn't make it to the ocean because you were afraid of sharks. What about the time when you wanted a hamster? He said no, but you got it anyway, so when you lost it, obviously, he gave you shit about it, but after that, he was on all four looking for your little pet in the dorms.
"Fine." That wasn't your main goal, so you let it go. "Actually, I was thinking of you doing a quick hand job in my bathroom and giving me your sperm"
The silence between the two of you couldn't be more unbearable. Bakugo's eyes twisted in your direction while his cheeks were slowly growing a clear shade of rose.
"What? No!"
He was absolutely losing it. The impact of your sayings got him standing from his seat, almost panting. You and him? In his best dreams, but you didn't need to know about his secret intentions.
"Think about it. It's a great idea." You stepped out of your couch and went to his side.
"How are you going to explain that your kid has similar features with your best friend?" he flinched when you approached him. You were so close that your scent invaded him whole.
Bakugo was trying with all his heart and mind to think logically, but you, your body next to him, and your puppy eyes were making it so hard, in both ways.
"I don't know, and I don't care, I'll run away from the country, and you'll never see us again"
You were one of the best students from UA, right after him and Yaoyorozu, but right now, he was doubting if it was just an act.
"That's so clever." he rolled his eyes at you and walked to the kitchen to grab a glass of water, hoping that you would drop the subject and hop onto another like getting a bunny or going sky diving.
"I know, right? Now go in there, do the nasty job, and I'll put it inside of me, I'll even turn my body upside down so it sticks, " you jolted in joy, missing his usual sarcasm.
He almost spilled the water from his mouth to your face.
"Who the fuck told you that?" he spated obnoxiously.
"Kaminari," you shrugged.
"Are you even listening to yourself!?"
When he thought that that couldn't get any worse, you named the only person who could make him go crazy just by opening his mouth.
"I'm desperate. It made sense when he told me"
He could believe anything at this point. He was actually thinking that he was dead because what was happening between you two was a complete nonsense.
"So you are telling me this is something you've had in mind for a while?
You simply nodded, and he stayed quiet, considering everything you said. He wasn't looking for anything serious because of you. He passed for all seven stages of grief when he realized that he was in love with you and your silliness, so he decided long ago that he wouldn't date anyone because he wasn't interested in anyone but you.
"I know that look on your face," you smiled and danced around the kitchen.
You weren't looking for anyone either. Having Bakugo as a male figure in your life left the bar very high for others to match. They didn't meet your expectations anymore like Bakugo did, always by your side, laughing at your bad jokes and giving you his hand when you most needed, buying food and cooking for you, he has even bought you flowers for half a decade on valentine's day, a large bouquet of red roses every year since then.
"I'll do it," he told you, and you jumped excited on him. He grabbed you by your thighs, catching you on the fly. "Two conditions"
"Yeah, just name it," you batted your eyes at him.
"I'll take you on a proper date first, and you won't run away with my kid, got it?"
Bakugo thought that he was only doing you a favor, but he never saw coming that it only took one date to make you fall for him in the way he always wanted.
#bakugo x reader#mha x reader#bakugo headcanons#bnha bakugou#my hero academia#bakugo smut#bakugou smut#katsuki bakugo x reader#my hero academy fanfiction#mha bakugo katsuki#mha drabbles#mha fluff#mha bakugou#mha#bnha fluff#bnha drabble#bnha x reader#bnha#bakugou katsuki x reader#katsuki bakugou#bakugou x reader#bakugo katsuki#bakugou katsuki#bnha bakugo katsuki#bnha bakugo x reader
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