#i’m actually in so much discomfort i can’t sleep

[hamausagi]

eugh

[toxycodone]

ship. Laios Touden x Reader

content. nsfw + gender neutral reader + period sex + bloodplay/kink

You and Laios have a pretty decent sex life. It’s a lot smoother than most couples. Laios is surprisingly into trying new things. The two of you share your kinks pretty openly. (Which is pretty necessary, considering that Laios is such an avid fan of roleplay…but that’s another story).

You two are in bed, kissing and messing around a little. This is common, you two gently feeling each other up. It doesn’t always go farther than this—most of the time it’s just you showing some affection—but it takes a little turn when Laios’s fingers start to trail under your night shorts.

Your breath catches in your throat, but not in a usual positive sense. You stop Laios in his tracks by grabbing his wrist.

“Hey, stop.” He abides. Before he can look at you puppy dog eyes and fall over himself apologizing, you speak. “I’m on my period. Didn’t want you to accidentally stick your fingers in blood.”

You expect his face to twist in discomfort, for Laios to do his usual dorky laugh to offset the awkwardness and for him to cuddle you to sleep. However…he gets that look. The one where his expression doesn’t really change, and you can see the cogs start to turn in his mind. He can’t be…?

“Are you in the mood?” He asks. He’s avoiding what’s really on his mind by testing how you feel. You just go along with it instead of pressing for now.

“To be honest, yeah.” You shrug. “But I don’t need to do anything.” “Well…” Laios looks away from you before spouting his biology facts. “Y’know, an orgasm releases endorphins. Dopamine. Oxytocin. The good chemicals, happy ones.” His fingers dip under your waistband again now. He doesn’t seem thwarted by the fact you’re on your cycle. “If you want…I don’t mind. Y’know, I can... Help you. Make you feel good, and—“

“Just say what’s on your mind Laios.”

He takes a breath, then sighs it out. Laios’s cheeks flush pink as he speaks.

"I still want to have sex with you. Even though you're on your period, I'm curious. I wanna try it."

"Are you sure?' You ask. He might be a bit swayed by different forms of media. So you want to ensure he knows what he's getting into. "It's messy. And it smells. And you're gonna get blood all over yourself if you do."

He nods, but his interest hasn't been quelled. He's oddly into this. Really into this.

"You just really want to know what it tastes like, huh?"

Cue his cute little blush.

Laios scrambles to get a towel when you give him the go ahead. Of course he wants to experience this, but he knows he can't just hop on into it. He wants to make sure you're comfortable and into it as well before he starts exploring.

Laios is EXTREMELY into period sex. You're so warm, so wet without him even trying. Sex this way is one of his favorite things to do. And it helps that each orgasm he gives you makes your cramps and other symptoms much less severe.

He really leans into the more primal side of it. Some things still linger from his time as a monster, and one of those is his affinity for blood. The sight and smell of it drives him wild. He'll start to growl and fuck you more roughly, digging his fingernails into your skin while he pounds into you. (Also...since the risk of pregnancy is low on your period...he's finishing balls deep inside. He cant resist the urge.)

And his teeth sink into the flesh of your neck when he finishes. The taste of your blood is addictive to him...you bring out a more monstrous side of Laios that's gotten buried deep within his psyche.

Your blood acts like an aphrodisiac to him. His senses are much more sensitive. You smell weak--like prey--and he wants to take advantage of you. He'll make sure he has his fill of all you have to offer and then some.

And speaking of tasting your blood...period head is always on the table. That coppery taste others may refuse is one he finds delicious (blame his appetite and newfound monstrous palette).

It's actually a sight to behold. Laios's mouth stained with blood as he's buried between your thighs. He'll look up at yours, eyes dark with lust, before gripping the meat of your thigh and pulling you flush against him again so he can consume you with fervor.

And Laios is SO ridiculously shameless about it too. After you've spent yourself on his face, he'll rest his chin on your stomach and wipe his mouth off with the back of his hand--only to lick the blood smears off his pale skin. It's so obvious he enjoys eating you.

[avoxrising]

Saw You In That Dress

Finnick x Reader

Masterlist Link

So @kittimbo posted this fic idea on their blog and I wanted to give a shot at writing it (see repost of the request on my blog).

Basically the reader is another victor from District 4 and Finnick’s childhood best friend. She has to go to an event in the capital in a sheer dress and it leaves Finnick very flustered and things heat up back at her place… smut ahead!

Content warnings - cursing, prostitution, unwanted public nudity, very smutty

“Tigris you can’t be serious,” you groan as you see the dress she brought you. It was made of purple organza and was very see through. Your whole body would be on display. Tigris had enough decency to provide you with a small nude thong but your chest was fully on display.

“Client’s request,” Tigris responds. “You just have to be with him during the event and then you get the rest of the night off to wear whatever you want. The siren must make her appearances after all.”

The capital had called you “The Siren” since your games. During the final eight interview your sister told the capital how you were the best singer in District 4 and the capital ran wild with that comment. You were made to pick up singing as your official victor hobby and the rest is history.

Knowing what would happen if you didn’t comply, you reluctantly let Tigris dress you. The dress wouldn’t actually be so bad if it wasn’t see through. The fabric flowed beautifully around your features and the halter top was covered in expensive jewels. Unfortunately, all anyone would notice was your bare top half, not the rest of you.

As your driver takes you to the event at Snow’s mansion you have a moment of panic. The fact that your childhood best friend and mentor, Finnick, was also going to be in attendance was a sense of relief until you saw what you would be wearing. Now you have to avoid him. You can’t let him see you in this dress. That’s literally the definition of embarrassing.

Luckily, the event is fairly crowded. You’re stuck to your client like glue for the whole evening, trying to hide your dress behind him as much as possible. Unfortunately, he purchased you and this dress for the sole intent of checking you out and showing you off, so he mainly kept you in front of him so your girls were in eyesight at all times. You could barely hide your discomfort.

“Come on Siren darling you need to meet my sister,” he coos. “She’s a big fan of Tigris and she would love to see your dress. I’m sure her date would too.”

You reluctantly join him as he glides across the room. The sight of his sister and her date makes you freeze. Of course it had to be Finnick. The second he notices your outfit his eyes shoot to the floor, doing his best not to stare.

“Celia my dear sister!” your client exclaims as he introduces you to a woman with green hair and eyes like a snake. “I’d like you to meet my lovely victor for tonight. Did you know Tigris designed her dress?”

The woman gushes over your dress, running the fabric through her fingers as you stand their uncomfortably. Ironically, Finnick looks more uncomfortable than you. He’s sweating and shifting from foot to foot. What is he doing?

“I’ll be right back,” he tells his date, scurrying away. She’s too enthralled by your dress to notice his absence but you can’t help but feel betrayed. Why was he leaving you alone to fend for yourself?

The rest of the event passes too slowly. It’s finally 3am when your driver picks you up to bring you back to the victors’ apartments in the capital. You spend the car ride removing all the pins from your hair and the jewels from your neckline that Tigris glued on.

When you get back to your apartment, all you want to do is change into actual comfy clothes and go to sleep, but your plans are sidelined by Finnick sitting at your kitchen counter. You can’t help but stare at him in disbelief, as if he had the audacity to think you’d want to hang out with him at this hour, right after he left you alone with your client and his.

You let out a long exhale before dropping your shoes by the door and heading to your room, eager to get out of your dress. Finnick, of course, follows you. What the hell was his problem?

“Hey,” he says as you walk further into your apartment. “How was your night?”

“Awful,” you huff, finally turning around to face him. “What are you even doing here?”

“I wanted to see you,” he nervously replies, doing his best to keep his eyes on your face.

“Well everyone has seen a whole lot of me tonight,” you retort. You cross your arms over your chest, causing Finnick’s eyes to abruptly snap back up to your face. He was definitely looking.

“I like the dress,” he comments. You roll your eyes and turn to head towards the room when he stops you, putting one of his hands on your arm.

“Wait,” he says. “I just wanted to apologize for leaving you with my client. I just couldn’t control myself with you in that dress. You looked…”

You look up at him, slightly confused. Sure you two had always been somewhat flirty for two people who were just friends, but something about the way you two were flirting tonight felt different.

“You couldn’t control yourself?” you smirk.

“No,” he shyly replies. “I really couldn’t.”

“Well what would you do if you didn’t have to control yourself?” you ask, dragging your fingers down the arm that lay on your shoulder.

“Do you really want to know?” he asks, using his arm to maneuver you so your back was against the wall. Things were definitely different tonight.

“Yes,” you nervously swallow. “Please.”

He hungrily encapsulates your lips with his as his hands hold you firmly against the wall. Was your childhood best friend and longtime crush actually kissing you?

His hands roamed up your stomach until they sat just under your boobs, hands pressing gently into the sheer fabric covering them.

“If I didn’t have to control myself in there I would have dragged you to Snow’s office so I could bend you over his desk and fuck you till you couldn’t walk,” he growls. “You would be singing my name like the deadly siren you are. I would leave marks all over you till your arms and neck matched your dress and everyone knew you didn’t belong to them.”

His hands dig into the flesh of your boobs and you let out a soft moan. You needed his hands in a million different places right now but the words wouldn’t form to tell him that.

“You just look too good in that dress,” he groans, pressing himself closer to you. Your hands drift down his torso until they come to rest over his dress pants. They were definitely getting a bit tight due to the conversation.

“I might look better with it off,” you smirk at him, sliding your hand down gently over his bulge. He let out a deep groan at the contact and swiftly guided you back over to your couch just a few feet away, where he promptly had you sit on his lap, facing him.

“I want to show them that they don’t own you,” he says as you kiss his neck, definitely leaving marks. You pull back for a moment to look into his deep blue green eyes. The two of you had crossed a line, and there was no going back to just friends.

“They don’t,” you tell him. “I won’t let them own you either.”

The moment intensifies until Finnick smashes his lips back into yours, hands pulling up the bottom of your dress. He slides your thong to the side and quickly goes to undo his pants. You impatiently yank them down to his knees, watching his very prominent erection bounce up to hit his stomach.

No words needed to be said, you two already knew what the other was thinking. You take ahold of his member and line it up with your soaking entrance. Only he could do this to you.

He unties the halter top of your dress, fully exposing your breasts to him. He can’t help but run is hands over them and give them a squeeze.

“They’re perfect,” he grins, looking up at you. “You’re perfect.”

You pull his lips to yours as you sink down onto him. He stretches you out nicely and it takes you a second to adjust to his size.

Slowly, you pull back up before sitting yourself back down onto him, moaning in the process.

“Fuck Finnick,” you groan. He ruts his hips up into yours, telling you to get moving. You heed his command and begin to bounce up and down on him, the sound of skin hitting skin filling your apartment.

He presses his face to your chest and gently bites and sucks as you ride him, loving the way your boobs bounce with every thrust. Eventually he has you turn around so he can wrap his arms around you and hold your boobs while you bounce on him.

He lets out a groan and you can tell he’s close, his dick twitching inside of you. The feeling in your stomach lets you know you’re close too, but you need something more.

You wrap one of your hands around his, guiding it down to your swollen clit.

“Please,” you beg as you push his hand towards your core. He does not disappoint as his fingers make contact with your clit.

It’s only a few moments later before your orgasm comes crashing down on you, with Finnick not far behind. He pulls you down onto him as he spurts himself deep into you, burying his face in your neck. You don’t think he could get any deeper but he continues to thrust as he coats your walls.

When the moment fades, he gently lifts you off of him, pressing a kiss to your shoulder as he goes to get a warm towel. You lay back on the couch, exhausted. You would have to lie to Tigris about why the dress got so sweaty.

“Here,” Finnick hums as he lays you back on the couch. He proceeds to wipe you up, your clit throbbing from the contact. After you are both cleaned up, you ditch the idea of pjs and climb into your bed together, the sun already rising over the capital.

“We should have done that a lot sooner,” Finnick states. You give him a happy hum in response as you nuzzle up against him. “Thank god I saw you in that dress.”

-

I hope this was in line with your idea! Let me know in the comments what y’all think of this and if I should do more of possessive Finnick in the future.

[emotionalsupport-ljh]

All Better 🩺🩹

It's okay to take a little break.

Fluff - woozi x nurse!reader (fem)

Woozi Birth Month special! One fluffy baby getting taken care of!

AO3 link

Word Count: 1.8k

CW: hospital, IV, mentions of fainting, mentions of self neglect

🤍⊹🩺♡⚕⟡˙🩹˙˙⟡⚕♡🩺⊹ 🤍

It’s too bright in the hospital room Jihoon is currently waiting in. The fluorescent light bulbs only seem to reflect the sterile white environment back in his eyes, causing him to squint slightly. He drew the blinds a long time ago, trying to avoid exactly this discomfort. He isn’t used to this. He’s used to the soft blue and violet ambiance of his studio and the LED of his computer. An IV drips steadily next to him with a tube connected in his arm. His phone died a while ago, and no one seems to have a spare charger in the hospital. He’s chosen to combat his boredom (and loneliness) by closing his eyes, breathing steadily. He knows he won’t sleep. He can’t. He has too much to think about and work to get back to. Forever the workaholic, his mind immediately starts making a list of what to catch up on once he can get out of here and back to his sanctuary. 

A small click and very light footsteps approach his side. He doesn’t mind them; it’s probably just that old nurse coming back to check on him again or lecture him about staying hydrated and getting at least nine hours of sleep because eight is actually too little and that lie was spread by blah blah blah. There’s quiet sounds of a pen on paper then a rattling of equipment and a squeak. Jihoon cracks one eye open at that new sound like a mouse had suddenly appeared to record his vitals. Not a mouse. A nurse. One wincing as he makes eye contact with her, his face emotionless.

“Sorry,” you whisper, “I didn’t want to disturb your nap.”

“I wasn’t sleeping,” he replies in a sigh. He opens both eyes and blinks away some of the discomfort of the environment. The first color he sees other than hospital white is pastel pink. And pastel flowers on hairpins. You smile down at him brightly.

“Oh! Okay! Well, you are doing much better. Shouldn’t be long until you can get out of here.” Your smile is warm and your voice is cheerful. 

“Thank you, Nurse…” he trails off, waiting for an introduction.

“Y/N! Just call me Y/N.” You can’t help but notice this patient as he lightly smiles for the first time since you’ve been here. It’s only been something like two minutes, but still. It’s a soft smile that crinkles his eyes into crescents. He’s very cute.

“Why couldn’t you have been my nurse the whole time? The other one kept nagging me.” Jihoon pouts a little as he talks. He’s really very cute. 

You hold the clipboard you were writing on close to your chest and relax your stance a little to talk, “Her shift ended. I’m her replacement.” It’s, for once, not super busy this afternoon, so you have some time before someone is breathing down your neck about checking on patients. There’s something about this guy that makes you want to pause and talk. Maybe even unload. His gentle eyes are tired; it’s like he has been carrying a heavy burden on his shoulders and this is his first genuine excuse to let up a little. His voice is soft in his chest, and there’s something adding timber, something somber.

“Good, you are much easier to talk to. My phone died a long time ago, so I’m bored,” Jihoon says, letting out a deep breath he didn’t realize he had been holding. 

You glance at his chart again. He’s been put on fluids and vitamins for dehydration and poor nutrition. This guy is overworked, stressed, and isn’t sleeping much. He’s literally on record saying “I only eat white rice, really” and he doesn’t drink much water. You begin to see why the last nurse wanted to lecture him so bad. 

“You should rest. Get some extra sleep while you're still here.” You gently goad him in the right direction.

Jihoon groans indignantly, “I really don’t want to. Besides, it’s uncomfortable here: too bright with the lights on, too dark with them off. I’d much rather talk to you.” He’s being a little whiny, even for his own taste, but any excuse to not waste more time while he’s still conscious. He has work to do. Well, maybe not to do right now, but he can still think about it.

You give him a half smile and set the clipboard on one of the chairs near the bed. “Sit up,” you command and he obliges without hesitation. You move in close to fluff his pillow and then gently, and without thinking, push down on his chest to get him to lay all the way back. You bring the thin blanket up to his chest, and for the final touch, you move the bottom corner of the blanket for it to expose one leg. Jihoon’s heart has been racing since you stepped forward to fluff his pillow and you clock it on the heart monitor immediately. 

“Is that better?” There’s a chuckle in your voice.

Jihoon nods kind of mystified, just staring at you with big eyes. You grab the discarded clipboard and move to the door to shut off the lights. It is really dark in this room. “I’ll be back,” you announce and speed off into the hallway.

Jihoon is staring at the ceiling while his mind reels at the interaction. Nurse Y/N, he thinks, What a force of nature. He finds himself missing the pop of color your scrubs brought to the otherwise bleak room. When he does reluctantly close his eyes, all he can picture is your smile. The silence is killing him, and, almost on queue, the door swings open once more; this time it’s a lot less subtle. 

You walk in with an assortment of items. A small noise machine, a night light, and an extra blanket. You carefully set up each item to make the room feel a hell of a lot cozier. Jihoon is once again at a loss for words. The oppressive sterility of the space transforms before his eyes. Once the night light is plugged in, there is a softer, warmer glow about the room. When you turn around, you are backlit in a golden light.

“Do you need a lullaby for your nap, as well, Mr. Lee?” you tease your patient smiling.

“Please, just Jihoon is fine. And no, this is… perfect.” Jihoon cracks a genuine smile, feeling all his stress slowly begin to melt away. “Where did you find a nightlight?”

“Pediatrics. The noise machine is from the On-Call room. You’re lucky no one is using it right now.” 

“I really am lucky, huh?” Jihoon says more to himself than he does to you. 

“Okay then, just Jihoon. Sweet dreams,” you say, flustered. 

They sure will be, he thinks. You watch as he settles into the bed and actually plans to rest. You slip out of the door with a prideful feeling in your chest. You’re good at your job.

When Jihoon wakes up, his first instinct is to reach for his phone and check the time. It’s around 2:30 in the afternoon. He’s been in the hospital for a little over an hour. He blinks heavy a few times then looks at his phone again in surprise. It’s charged! It’s attached to a charger, and it’s fully charged! He follows the rainbow colored cord with his eyes to the outlet it’s plugged into, and sharpied onto the brick are the words “Y/N’s Do Not Touch!!”. There’s a water bottle on the nightstand and a red jello cup. He sits up and take the jello cup in one hand and his phone in the other, checking his messages.

When you ease the door open with a light knock, you find him watching a video on his phone while his tongue tries to scoop the last bit of jello out of the cup. You giggle a little which catches his attention causing him to swiftly put the now empty cup down.

“That nap was good, huh?” you say, still giggling lightly and flicking the lightswitch. You walk up to check his vitals and IV for the last time.

“Yeah, actually, thank you… for everything.” Jihoon sounds less stressed out. He’s much calmer and even a little happier. 

“It’s no biggie, honestly,” you reply. There’s a beat of silence and you sigh before starting your next sentence. “I’m going to do that thing that you hate.” You gesture to his arm, and he presents it, letting you tend to the removal of his IV. Your touch is soft and leaves him wanting more. He wants to fall into your gentle and nurturing arms and stay there forever.

“Jihoon, this incident was serious. When you fainted, you could’ve ended up with a concussion or worse. You’re lucky, but… this all could’ve been avoided.” You choose all your words carefully and talk gently. “You have to take care of yourself.” you finish up and dispose of the waste. Then, you chance to place a hand on his knee and add with a smile, “I won’t always be there to do it for you.”

Jihoon, who has been looking down while you speak, looks up into your eyes with a look of resignation on his face and a slight smirk. “You don’t, like, make house calls or anything, do you?”

You laugh and lightly hit his knee you were once holding, “Of course not! But, if you have any questions,” you produce a slip of paper from your pocket, “shoot me a text or something.”

Jihoon takes the piece of paper and sees a phone number written inside. He breaks into a genuine smile as he runs his fingers over the numbers to make sure he’s not still dreaming. He speaks up before you leave for good, “I might have a lot of questions. Can I ask them over coffee? Tomorrow, maybe?”

You raise your eyebrows, “You sure you're not too busy?”

“I’m sure. I’m gonna take my health a lot more seriously now. Starting with having a date with the cute nurse.”

You blush, but before you can come up with a cute response, your pager sounds. You manage to say through a smile, “Get out of here! Your discharge paperwork is at the desk,” before speed walking out of the door to attend to the next patient.

Jihoon takes a beat, smiling to himself before gathering his things to leave the hospital. He is serious about staying healthy and conscious for his job and fans and to impress a certain nurse with his ability to improve by himself. Though, having you around to bring him back to life sometimes is certainly a plus.

[tokkiiecloud]

It’s hot outside so get hit by this bus take whv this is (Also don’t mind my writing, I ain’t no writer I have written a few fanfictions here and there soo..yeah)

WHB : it’s summer and it’s hot / Beach dates :

Characters : gn!reader ; Belphegor ; Bael ; Gamigin ; ppyong (Juno p) +angel : Raphael

CW : Sweating ; OOC

Belphegor :

this dude just sleeps through the heat

He’s inside with the air conditioner on

You just came back from a small trip in town with Agares and Vassago, and directly joined Belphegor who was sleeping in his room, you were drenched in sweat because of the FUCKING HOT AIR OUTSIDE and you were too lazy to go shower and change into a pair of fresh and cool clothes(he rubbed off on you)

You collapsed on the bed where Belphegor was sleeping, when he felt something that resembled a wet rat, he had to wake up from the discomfort, when he saw it was you he pushed you off the bed :

“WT- BELPHI?! THIS HURTS!” You yelled at him, he ignored you and went back to sleep, you were forced to take a shower and change when you came back he finally used you as a pillow.

Bael :

This man works through the heat (ac broken)

Collapsed bcs of the heat after waking up he started working again.

You walked inside of Bael’s office, he was still working despite when entering you could feel the unbearable heat, you started sweating profusely how could Bael work in this environment??

He smelt you’re sweats and looked at you giving a weak smile, he was close to collapsing, alerted you quickly went to him and grabbed his face worry in you’re eyes :

“Bael?! Your office is like an oven?!” You said worried, he just looked at you and apologized

“Sorry..the ac is actually broken but I’m used to the heat do not worry about me, go somewhere where the ac is on-“ he couldn’t finish his sentence before you dragged him out of the room, he wasn’t able to fight back because of his brain being turned to mush because of the heat.

After dragging him to a random chamber placing him onto the bed, making him drink some water, changing him into more comfortable clothes and going into the bed to cuddle with him.

He smiled softly before kissing your forehead and letting himself be taken care of by you.(Bael my beloved)

Gamigin :

He’s very worried about you staying hydrated

“Please don’t go outside too much”

Paradise lost, for some reason is not that hot?? But Gamigin still worries a lot about you he heard from Lucifer that human’s can’t withstand too much heat so he’s constantly checking on you, giving you water to keep you hydrated!

Ppyong (Juno p) :

Spends his day at the beach to be able to cool himself in the water

Listens to Avril Lavigne while swimming

He begged MC to go to the beach with him so he could spend some alone time together! Drinking wine together, watching the sunset together, swimming, his perfect idea for a date! Sadly he can’t hang out because the others will tag along…

At least he got a kiss on the forehead for the cute idea! It was worth it :

“Ppyong, I mean Juno, this is a very cute idea! Let’s do this next time!”

He giggles as you kiss his forehead, his smile is super bright almost blinding you more than the sun

Raphael :

Doesn’t give a flying fck at the heat

Has tried to kiss you while watching the sunset and will continue to try when he can

Interestingly, you found Raphael at the beach while hanging out with the devils of Gehenna and when he saw you…He took you away from them so for the rest of the day you spent you’re time with him

It was fun! You had a really good and goofy time with him he was still acting high and mighty but he was softer than usual until the sun started to set, both of you were sitting down on the golden sand :

“The sunset is beautiful..all those golden and pinkish mixed with a hint of blue create such a unique and ethereal look…”

He looks at you, eyes sparkling, he smiles at you as he grabs your chin and forces you to look at him, extremely gently as if he was handling a crystal glass :

“You know what else is beautiful and ethereal?” He looks deep into your eyes, leaning in closer to your face, when suddenly a bunch of demons intervened and brutally ended the sweet moment by starting a fight after the fight Raphael left but not without saying one last thing :

“Our moment was interrupted but we’ll have time to continue it some time later. See you dear” he smirks and flies away.

It’s donneeee!! YAYY! Don’t mind it going from weird /goofy or cringe ?? To sweet, I couldn’t stop myself from writing about them I just had too before the fandom completely dies you know?? So every time I get an idea I’ll write it!! :3

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Crash and Burn 9

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Tony Stark

Summary: a powerful man comes crashing into your life. Literally.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

The vertigo blurs to darkness. You wade in the sludge of your own unconscious, still addled by your waking discomfort. Deep down inside of you is a thrum that never quite relents. It keeps you from sinking into a full sleep but has you trapped in a shallow and fruitless slog. 

A single touch and you’re awake. You groan as your eyes snap open and you recoil into yourself. Tony laughs as he tickles along your outer thigh. Your leg hangs over the edge of the sofa as your other is straight down the cushions. You cling, teetering over the floor. 

You push yourself up, sitting in the corner as you put your knees to your chest and hug them. You can’t hide from him. Your nakedness tingles as he smirks at you. 

“There she is,” he taunts, “good morning, sweetheart. Ready for round...” he pauses to count on his fingers, “you know, I lost track.” 

You put your palm to your forehead and shudder. You did too. You can’t tell the start from the end. The night is just a haze. 

“Well, I don’t know about you but I’m ready to get the day started,” he unties the belt of his black silk robe and opens it. Your eyes flick up to avoid his hard length. Jesus Christ. “I know the silver at my temples might be deceiving but I run hot, sweetheart.” 

“Do you ever stop?” You groan and rub your eye. “I’m exhausted--” 

“I didn’t ask,” his tone deepens as he nears and grabs your wrist, ripping your hand away from your face. “When I snap my fingers you get into position. Any will do, really.” 

“Stop, stop, I--” 

He brings up his other arm and looks at the watch on his wrist. It’s more of a command center as it seems to do more than tell the time. He tilts his arms just so and a ripple rolls through you. You squeal and jump off the sofa, colliding with him. 

“Now, we can go groundhog day with this, I don’t care, but I’m thinking you’ve had enough of that. Still...” he twirls his fingers and the intensity throbs, “I like to watch you squirm.” 

You grab onto the open robe along his shoulders and grit your teeth, “please, please, whatever, I—I'll do whatever--” You put your chin down and whine. “Fuck, I can’t--” 

Your legs tremble as you barely keep from folding. You bite down on the tension and yank on him. You swing your weight back and pull him down with you onto the sofa. You open your legs around him in surrender. 

“Just get it over with,” you sneer. 

“Wrong fucking answer,” he clucks and shakes his head. 

He shifts and moves over you. He lines up with your cunt, rubbing up and down, but not entering. You drone and tug on his hair. 

“Just fuck me!” 

“Come on, have a little romance. Foreplay’s important,” he snickers. 

“Uggh, why... why...” you roll your eyes back and rattle with another swell of tension. “God, I hate this. I hate you.” 

“Oh baby, you say that but the way your cunt begs for it,” he lets his tip flick up and rams his fingers into you. “You’re a bad liar.” 

You moan as he curls his fingers and wiggles his hand. You squeeze him with your thighs and snake your hand down to claw at his ass. You try to pull him closer as you whimper. 

“Please.” 

“Say it nicer for me, sweetheart.” 

“Tony, please, please,” your voice cracks, “please just fuck me. Shit. Jesussssss.”  

You turn your head to the side and heave as the swell pulses in your core. Your eyes stream and your lip trembles. You can’t help but sob. You can’t take much more. 

“I know, once you go Stark... I never found a good rhyme for it, actually,” he teases and drags his fingers out of you. “Mmm, sweetheart, you like to play so tough but inside, you’re just aching for it.” 

He grabs his dick and guides the tip along your folds. You shiver as he impales you, contorting to take as much as you can. You don’t care that he’s laughing, you don’t care that he’s won, you just need it to stop. 

He doesn’t thrust. He just lingers. You snarl and smack his head in frustration. He laughs again. Your eyes blaze up at him. 

“You know I love when you look at me like that.” 

“You’re the worst.” 

“I’m fucking am,” he ruts once then slides out so he’s barely inside you. “But you still fucking want me.” 

You push your chest out and he cups it, running his thumb over your nipple, then flicks it. You groan and latch onto his wrist. You move your hips and he tuts, sliding out completely. You pull his hand up to your mouth and bite his knuckle to keep a scream from erupting. 

He leans into you slowly, this time delving in inch-by-inch. You writhe and pinch him with your teeth. When he bottoms out, you spasm. You hook your legs around him to lock him in place.  

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, we got all day,” he growls as he pumps his hips, “all,” in, “fucking” out, “day.” 

[georgiapeach30513]

Your Mark On Me, Part 11

Summary: can Steve be honest with himself, with you, and with his best friend?

Pairings: Steve Rogers X Reader

Rating: explicit

Warnings:  explicit language, explicit sexual content, mentions of markings, mentions of biting, bruises, unprotected sex, PIV sex, degradation, manhandling, creampie, cockwarming in public, voyeurism, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 3.9K

Previous

Series Masterlist

*dividers created by @firefly-graphics

*tattoo edit by @randomagnes0210

Steve smiles as he looks over your sleeping body. A warm comfort fills his entire insides up. You look more beautiful now, in this state of sprawled out mess than he has ever seen you. Perfect. No one could ever compare to you. And seeing you like this he takes the time to think about all that had happened between the two of you. Of how he’s never spent the time on anyone that he has on you. You’ve surpassed his every fantasy he’s had.

Picking up his phone, he scrolls through his messages. Having to scroll down further than he ever has for this contact before clicking it. His hand hovers over the keyboard a moment. Fingers tapping over the glass, before he erases everything he had just typed. He didn’t know what to say.

Laying his phone down he stares at you. Chuckling to himself because even asleep, you knew what you were doing. Turned on your side, and giving him the sweetest sneaky peek of your cunt. Your lips swollen and puffy from the pounding he had been giving you. Glistening in the early morning light, and ready to take him again. You really are his little slut.

Bruises and marks splattered over various parts of your skin. If you didn’t show that you did in fact like it, he would hate himself. He’s amazed at himself for how many different places his mouth had left their mark on your body. Reddened bruises and even teeth marks. Having to bit you for the amount of pleasure that overwhelmed his body.

He wants to hate himself for causing you any bit of pain or discomfort, and then you sigh in your sleep. Your body stretches out even more, and pushes the blankets down your body. You are a work of art. That little grin that pulls up your mouth. You’re, for now, satiated. You had proven to be just as much of a fend as him.

If you were awake, you were filled with him. So now he sits quietly, and hopes you can actually rest. You hadn’t gotten used to his size. And he coos at you with every wince when he stretches you open. It’s adorable, and he can tell you hate how he goes a bit softer as he’s entering you. Steve is a bit of a contradictory roller coaster, but especially during sex.

Steve hears a little tap on his bedroom door, and he pulls the covers back over you. He got the alert that Sam was driving up here, so it wasn’t a surprise. “Come in,” Steve whispers, and presses his hand on your bum when you stir. He wants you to sleep for a few hours this time. No more naps.

Sam waits in the doorway, watching the two of you. Noting how Steve can’t turn away. He rolls his eyes as he leans against the doorframe, “You get it now?”

“Get what?”

Steve still never stops to look at Sam. In the few days you have been holed up in the cabin, Sam sees a real change in Steve. There isn’t that hardness that’s usually present. “You finally understand caring for someone more than yourself,” Steve looks up at his friend, and responds by nodding his head.

”Dove looks exhausted.”

”I didn’t do anything she didn’t want me to. She is worse than me,” you weren’t quite there. But it wouldn’t take much. You were experimental with sex. Willing to try whatever Steve wanted to.

”I’m doubtful of that,” Steve huffs out a laugh, and turns to look back at you. You are too soft for him, and yet there’s this devil that lurks under your top layer of sweetness. “You need to call Bucky.”

”Why?”

“Because, you get why he was angry. Why he needed to leave. Why he knew you needed to protect Dove. Bucky knew before you did that you had found your person, and he didn’t want you to scare her away. And then you insulted his fiance,” feeling a bit of shame makes Steve unable to look up at Sam. But his eyes flick towards his phone. he’s tried a few times to text Bucky since you two hadn’t left this cabin. Barely even ate.

“Imagine someone calling Dove a basket case,” his heart feels like someone is squeezing it, and he has to watch you sleep to center himself. “Bucky and Shy deserve your respect. The things Bucky has done for Dove were for you. Call him. I think Shy would do Dove some good. Maybe she can soften your darkened Dove. I can’t believe she was this sweet little innocent girl. And now…”

“Sam, I’m going to marry her, and make her the mother of my children.”

“Then call Bucky. My wife sent me with a basket of food. Feed her.”

Steve didn’t have to tell Sam that he had been thinking of calling, well texting, Bucky. Sam had this ability to just know. It’s why he completed their friendship. He is the steady one. The one that helps keep them in line. And the one that isn’t afraid to call either of them out. And if he was letting it be known that Steve needed to talk to Bucky it was time.

But first, he was going to enjoy you again. But going back into the real world was looming ever closer. He couldn’t keep you here, even if he wanted to. Make you just take him whenever he feels like it. Work had to be done. He had an empire. And he needed his other part to join back in with the business.

”Mmm,” you whine, looking over your shoulder at him. “Captain, why isn’t your cock deep in my cunt, and fucking me awake?”

“And why is my pretty little bird saying fuck when I’m not inside her?”

“What is my captain going to do about it?” He gives you an evil grin, before ripping your legs apart. Positioning you more on your knees, lifting you up to get the perfect angle. He spits into his hand, and you mewl. Turning your head back to look at him as his thick hand runs through your folds.

“You’re drenched.”

“Because I need you to fuck me,” he draws his hand back, and quickly slaps over your bare center. “Fucking destroy me. Just…mmm,” moaning when he gets to his knees and his monstrous cock springs up to life. Dripping in precum as he presses hard in between your shoulder blades, and pushing you into the mattress. “You gonna fuck me, Captain.”

“Nope,” he chuckles as he lines himself up, he roams his silky steel rod between your lips. Coating Clarence in your juices, while you whimper into the sheets. “I’m going to murder your pussy,” he says, and with the next breath his hips push him through your sensitive cunt.

It stings, and you’re tender, but the fact you can hear Steve groan in pleasure behind you sets your soul soaring. His hands grope hard over your hips as he pistons deep inside of you. Becoming one with him again, and you start to sink into the bed with his force.

Stabbing into you with no remorse, until you’re flat on the bed, and still he jams himself deeper. “Is that what it takes to keep my little bird happy? Dovey, you need me to treat you like my little slut that bad?”

“Uh huh. Mmm,” your knuckles change color with how tight you cling to the sheets, and still you want more. Would be completely satisfied with Steve's entire weight pushing himself into you. The pleasure is just too much as you feel your body go into a different place. This was heaven. And Steve reminded you of this beautiful place multiple times a day.

He wants himself to be your religion. Needs you to desire nothing more than him. Like all you needed to survive was Steve Rogers. Your body acts on its own accord, and keeps your ass pointed up, so he can get extra deep. Could feel him all the way in your throat as he rearranges your insides. Accommodating him in a way no one ever has. Letting him use you as his little sex doll.

Manhandling you into whatever position he wanted. You couldn’t make up your mind on what feels the best because you just need him inside of you. Need to feel the way his piercing drags onto your skin as he pulls himself out, and then stabs right back into you. You were no longer human. Or yourself. You are just his.

“Steve!” You scream, muttering out gibberish. Speaking in tongues as you soar high with pleasured pain.

”You’re so fucking dumb for my cock, aren’t ya, Dovey? Sweet little Dove getting herself turned inside out for Steve Rogers’ cock. And she looks so pretty taking every bit of me. Doesn’t matter that it hurts a bit. We make it fit, huh?”

“Yeah. Yes! Steve, I’m coming. I’m coming!”

“My god, yes, you are. Got me in a fucking vice grip. Fuck, Dovey. You feel how deep I am?” You feel me flowing through your veins?” He reset everything in your body. You were the worst addict. You need a hit of him constantly. You would let this man treat you like a fucking rag doll, thanking him, and begging him to do it again.

“Fuckfuckfuckfuck! So fucking tight. So fucking warm. Dovey, you got me coated in your pretty cum. Are you ready to feel me? Ready for me to paint the insides of you?”

“Please, Captain. Want you inside of me all day.”

”You fucking whore. You sweet fucking slut of mine! Ahh!” He screams as his load shoots into your belly. Your brows raise in satisfaction as your walls milk every bit of his warmth. Swallowing his essence to keep inside of you for the times he couldn’t be. “You like that, baby?”

“It feels so good,” you sigh. Ready to cry as he starts to pull out of you. “But I hate when you do that.”

”I know, sweet Dovey,” leaning forward he leaves the sweetest kisses down your slit. Finishing on your clit, before righting himself, and staring at his handy work. “I love seeing you wide open because of me. Your cunt swollen, and would you look at that. Mmmm,” he moans as his cum starts to seep out. “Never miss a drop, hmm? You my sweet cum slut?”

”I’m whatever you want me to be.”

”And I want you filled, and leaking of my cum today. We got to go into the real world.”

”But Steve,” you start to protest, but he pushes three fingers into your gaping hole. Stopping all your thoughts because he just feels that damn good.

”You are only quiet when you’re stuffed. Shh, I’m talking, you listen. As much as I would love to fuck you like the little slut you are, we have to be adults. We have a life. I have a business. We can’t…Dove, you’ve got that look on your face. What do you want?”

“Can…no one has to know, but can I keep you warm today? We both get what we want,” he promised to make you sit and take him while he conducted business. And now you want to collect on that promise. You didn’t know who knew that you were full of Steve. It was your silent way of claiming him for everyone to see. He belonged to you.

”You’re killing me.”

”And I feel empty. You don’t want me to feel empty, do you? Steve? Captain? Please, can I keep your cock warm? I’ll sleep,” honestly, sleeping with him inside of you sounded peaceful. You knew that you could rest as long as he was there.

You are a menace to him. You broke down most of his walls, and made him want to do nothing more but to spoil you and give you whatever you want. “You better actually sleep,” just your smile, and the wiggle of your ass is enough for him to know that he made the right decision. You are his, and everyone needs to understand that they will respect you. Only he can degrade you. And he will. Later.

He never tires of watching you. Even now with his cock nestled inside of you, and your eyes gently closed, a soft snore of exhaustion hums off your lips, you are the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. He doesn’t care when everyone walks into the meeting room to see you sitting atop his lap, with your legs lazily dangling beside him.

Sure they could know that he is stretching you out. They can see you snuggled up against his disgusting burn mark. Able to watch your lips pucker out and kiss his mark. Your little sleepy sigh is the loudest noise in the otherwise silent meeting room.

This room is supposed to be his safe space. Everyone here should respect not only you, but will be willing to protect you at all cost. It’s an understood thing. Nobody here should take stock of how even when Steve speaks, his voice is softer. Whispering so he doesn’t wake you.

While everyone is listening to Steve, Sam’s eyes roam around the room. He can multitask. He isn’t quite as trusting as Steve. He thinks showing Steve’s weakness and vulnerability is a risky move. Sam doesn’t care that you’re here. It’s the intimacy of your position, and how he is just letting you be.

Steve has fucked many a woman in front of people. Humiliated them, and treated them as nothing more than a way to get his dick wet. But this is care. Steve couldn’t say the word, but it was love. Pulling down your skirt so no one could see any part of your exposed skin.

And then without thinking Steve kisses your cheek. Giving a nod to everyone at the table, and letting them know what their territories are. Sending them on their way, while Sam taps a finger on the table.

“What, Samuel?”

“You’re getting sloppy in love, Steven,” his blue eyes turn up to look at Sam, shaking his head. “Your vulnerability is putting the biggest target on her.”

”I’ll kill anyone that tries to hurt her.”

”Some people don’t just try. Some will do anything to destroy you, and you’ve allowed everyone to see what will kill you. Losing her.”

”Ready a car,” Steve says as he looks up at Sam. “I’m going to take her to see Bucky and Shy,” he looks back at you when you giggle. Swishing your body around when you peek to look at him. “You rotten brat.”

”I like Bucky, Captain,” trying to move again, he holds tightly to your hips, holding you steady.

Sam nods his head, and goes to make sure a car is ready for the two of you. “Thank you, Steve,” you whisper as your hands smooth up his chest.

”For what, Dovey? What could you possibly have to thank me for?”

“For letting me go see Bucky. But I’m not the only one that misses him, am I?” Steve rarely admits when he’s wrong. This time he does, but just barely he gives a single nod. “I knew it. You need him. He’s a part of you. Just like me, huh?”

“You are definitely a part of me, my sweet Dove. You mean more to me than you’ll ever realize. And yes, just like Bucky and Sam.”

”Then it’s time for you to accept that they have a special someone. Just. Like. You,” you’re so rotten with your little grin. Tapping on his chest to emphasize every word.

”Yes, darling. You are so smart when it comes to my feelings. I’ll let you handle those from now on,” with a sweet laugh, you lean up to give him a chaste kiss. Getting a bit of a growl from him. “Dovey, you have been keeping me warm for awhile, and to finally feel some friction is making me want to fuck you so hard on this table.”

”Do it then,” rolling his eyes he stands up, letting you drop onto the table with a bit more force than you were expecting, and he pulls himself out of the depths of your body. Hands behind your knees, he lifts your legs, pinning them on the table.

Cocking up an eyebrow, he lets a string of saliva drip down to your entrance, “You really are a slutty brat, did you know?”

“Maybe you need to make me behave. Cap—tain,” you screech as he enters back into you. Slamming your hands above your head, he sets a feral pace. They two of you needy for this. An hour of feeling him was a slight torture, and now he needs you in an animalistic way.

“Dove, I…” he growls, shaking his head. “I fucking love feeling you.”

”And I love feeling you,” he’s such an ass sometimes. Let him have his fun shoving himself into you balls deep. Let him hear the squelching sounds echoing in the room, and the table legs scratching across the floor with every thrust.

“Steve, it’s enough for now,” tears of pleasure fill your eyes as you stare up at him. You’d break him. He is getting there, even if it is slowly. You could feel it from him. And it was enough for now.

Leaning forward he captures your lips with his own. You love feeling his weight on you. Able to feel every bit of him on every inch of your body. He truly is the perfect fit. The two of you soak each other up. Never even pulling apart when euphoria spreads through both of your bodies. Sharing your pleasure as he spurts his cum into you.

Kisses continue, and you’re too wrapped up in each other to notice cold blue eyes stare at the two of you. Steve truly is a fool.

“Stop fidgeting,” Steve says softly, while your eyes stare at the ever passing trees. You couldn’t stop. It had been so long since you saw Bucky. And the last time Steve did, it wasn’t under the best circumstances. “Dove. Dovey! Little bird,” he coos over to you.

You finally look at him, your eyes shining with confusion. “Tell me what’s wrong,” this isn’t a question. It is a command, and you feel overly compelled to tell him everything. All that you have been thinking about during this drive.

“What if she doesn’t like me? What if she hates me? What if Bucky doesn’t want to see me? What if…?”

“What if you just breathe, sweetheart? Bucky likes you, and I don’t think that will change. From my understanding his Shy girl is a bit backwards. She observes more than she reacts. So she might not say much. And if she does, that is just her opinion. What about mine? And I love…spending time with you,” you narrow your eyes at him, and look back out the front windshield. He could be so infuriating at times. You’re hoping that he would just make a mistake, and say it. It seems to be right on the tip of his tongue.

“I want her to like me though. Because Bucky loves her. Even asked her to marry him. Isn’t that something?”

“Yes, so romantic to finally propose after years of being together.”

“Don’t put a timeline on people’s relationship, Steve.”

“Then don’t put one on ours,” his hand moves to your thigh. Giving your soft skin a bit of a squeeze. “Just live in the moment, honey. Ahh, there’s their home.”

“Is it a necessary thing to have your homes be out in the middle of nowhere?” You bite at your lip, looking up at their home. It was bigger than you had expected. Much too big for two people. Even bigger than Steve’s cabin which was nothing to scoff at.

“Shy doesn’t like people. She’s a bit of a recluse. And they built this home together. Designed it for what they wanted out of life, and she has no intentions of leaving. This is their forever home, the cabin is not my forever home. Let’s go, little bird. Stand up straight and smile when the door opens. Don’t make me have to get onto you. Be a brat when it’s the two of us. Do you understand?”

You do. With a sweet smile, you reach for the door, but Steve clears his throat, opening his, and your hands fall to your lap. Watching as he jogs to your side of the door. You can’t help but to beam up at him when he opens your door, extending his arm down for you to take.

He keeps a firm grip on your waist as he walks up to the house. Knocking on the door, his hand goes to your chin, and he lifts your face to look up. Despising when you don’t exude confidence. And then the door opens to the cutest woman, and your eyes fall to her stomach.

“Oh my god! You’re having a baby!” Steve looks over at you confused, and your hands reach forward before retreating. “Can I?” She giggles, but nods her head yes, and you press your hands against her belly. “How far along are you? Steve! I felt the baby.”

“We’re twenty-seven weeks. Bucky and Alpine are spoiling me rotten.”

“Alpine?” Shy points down to her leg, and you see the fluffy cat circling her body. Squatting down you hold a hand out to her, and she leans into you without hesitation. “Are you protecting your mama and baby during this time? Making biscuits on your baby’s home? I bet you are the best kitty in the entire world, huh, pretty girl?”

“Steve, you’re drooling,” Bucky whispers to his friend. “You look different, buddy. Must be…well, Dove is making a good man out of you. Grab her up, let’s come inside, or we can go to the backyard. Shy has almost got it perfect. She’s got her an English garden look out there. Something she’s always wanted since she was a kid. The Secret Garden is her favorite.”

Steve pulls at your arm, and you stand up. Giving a big smile to your former guard. “Come on, Dove, Shy won’t bite if you give me a hug. I’d be more worried about your idiot boyfriend,” giggling, you jump into his arms. Squeezing around his neck so tight, you worry he can’t breathe.

“I missed you, too, ya heathen. Come on, I think all four of us need to talk,” and you did. Lots of talk. So much time was missed. And you knew that there was a part of this relationship that would never be the same. Bucky had three things right here that meant more to him than his own life. He wasn’t risking his life to save yours and Steve’s anymore. The only risks he would be taking would be to keep him alive to see his family one more day.

While you might not ever be Shy’s favorite, you can see her curiosity towards you is real. She keeps her eyes on you, but smiles since her cat is so familiar with you. Alpine bounces between walking in front of you to walking in front of her. Ultimately choosing her family. It’s as it should be. Bucky is doing the same. And with a look up at Steve, you understood. You understood all too well.

Next

Masterlist

@tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @pono-pura-vida @sstan-hoe @peaches1958 @seitmai @smile1318 @andydrysdalerogers @cjand10 @midnightramyeoncravings @kmc1989 @theinheriteddutchess @annaallicce @feyfantome @jesevans @tittittoee @bananapiedreams @onclouds999 @darkserenity24 @abbatoirablaze @ashychangeling @identity2212 @mrsevans90 @weirdothatwritess @floralwsloski @thestralwriting @ambearsstuff @lyndys @kandis-mom @hoodiesandicedcoffee @awhoreformoree @nyxbellabarnes @buckybarnesisdaddy @honeyhoneylovelylove

[alargehunkofdebris]

the necessary anguish of the Good Omens 2 finale

Ah ok. So after 4 years of waiting post Season One and ten cumulative years of bookish fannery, I watched bonified New Content of Good Omens. And when those credits rolled, I sat there, not in my expected state of pleasant satisfaction, but in a state of abject shock.

I actually don’t know if I’ve ever had such a reaction to a show before. Or, rather, that I could still have such a reaction. I’m thirty, for goodness sakes – I was planning on being thrilled and charmed and entertained, not having my hands shake so much that it was hard to type a text. I wasn’t planning on losing an entire night of sleep because my heart wouldn’t stop pounding really hard, Neil. This was not expected. I had an estate sale to run the next day – by God, I needed that sleep.

 Anyway. These are my thoughts on the season, and on this upswell of mourning/unhappiness at such a gut-wrenching ending. As always, this are my dumb opinions and nothing more; take with a grain of salt, etc. 

I have seen a lot of suffering on Tumblr today. Everyone is in pain, and it makes sense. I, too, am in pain. But I might be in the minority, because I thanked God/Mr. Gaiman when things turned to pure pain in the end. Because narratively, despite the anguish we all feel, this is how it needs to be. And I was getting real worried there for a second.

When we have a mini-series (ie, a show with a set number of seasons) it can’t act the same as a series without a set end. We’ve got three potential seasons; therefore, they logically should behave like a three-act play, or the three acts in the standard Western movie/book plot. This middle season is the middle act, the second act. While it definitely doesn’t work exactly the same way, and needs its own story arc to work as a season, it is still functionally the middle part of one overarching plot.

And what usually happens near the end of the second act? All Is Lost, and the Dark Night of the Soul.

We NEED this to happen. This is what makes a plot delicious. If we’d had this perfect, lovely, romantic season where the stakes aren’t raised one bit and everything is fixed at the end, we would want for nothing and the gorgeous tension that keeps us waiting and watching would be lost. We wouldn’t feel that drive to create fanfics and fanart, we wouldn’t have the need to speculate or dream, because most of the tension was eased, and you just can’t have that if you want a highly anticipated third season. We’d have nothing huge and concrete to look forward to.

In fact, I was getting really worried once the Ineffable Bureaucracy started happening on screen, because I could see (I thought) past that bend in the road toward the end. I could see how this season might conclude, with big happy confessions of love and hugs and handholding (that’s all I expected, because I only expected the same chaste level of affection with both angelic/demonic couples) and then…then it’d all be over. What more could there be? I mean, there certainly could be more, but THIS is the main thing people waited for. The Happy Confession. The hug. The handholding. Whatever we got. And in my mind, having it now, at the end of season two, just wasn’t adding up – it did not fit. It couldn’t. No, we can’t have this now. It doesn’t work.

I get this peculiar thing that happens when things start getting too “everything is great!” in a story. I get the “someone needs to die” instinct. Instead of pure happiness that things are going great, there’s this feeling of intense discomfort, because I feel the weight of the shoe that’s failing to drop. I need it to drop, or else it throws off my entire standard-Western-narrative-trained brain’s balance. In the build up to The Scene, when things seem to be going swimmingly and heading directly towards the happiest and syrupiest of endings, I had to pause and pace my living room and roll around on the floor to alleviate the sheer build up of stress. Things can’t go this well. They can’t. There hasn’t been enough bad things, this is too sweet, too much. Can’t handle it. This can’t just be pure wish-fulfillment at this point; Good Omens shouldn’t work that way, it never has. We’d be happy in the moment, but then it’ll ultimately be a let down. No more danger. Nothing keeping them apart. No more tension, no more story. It was all too easy.

And then, finally, that shoe dropped. After a season of mainly getting along and being just thrilled with each other, they began to really argue. Things got horrific and serious, and I literally let out a breath of relief. I was able to watch without pausing every two minutes for a breather. Ok. Things weren’t over. This wasn’t the end. We had more to wait for.

And then it went on. The confession started, but in that gorgeously wrong way. And for the first time that season, I was actually feeling the stress of the story. Yes, there was danger throughout this season, but it was always layered with humour and wit. You didn’t get a demon scene without them doing something hilariously stupid. You didn’t get an angel scene without them being delightfully out-of-touch. The stakes were high, but they weren’t allowed to get EXTREMELY high. We never thought there was any question of them getting out of scrapes unscathed, because it was never all serious.

Never…until now. There was zero humour at this point. After 6 episodes of being pleasantly delighted, I was feeling the dread. However, I still thought I knew where it was going.  

See, I thought I had it figured out. If I had any extra money, I would have bet some of it. I knew that, whilst they’d likely have some kind of subtle confession of love and caring, and perhaps a touch – a hug, or a hand-hold (like Gabe and Beez) – I knew we couldn’t expect a kiss. This is a story thirty-three years in the making, and it’s always been in that grey area. They weren’t humans; they didn’t necessarily show affection that way. Besides that, we’ve had so many TV shows that get close, but rarely ones that go all the way to smoochville. OFMD was one of the very first, but it was new. It wasn’t an old, established story from the 90s like this is. It didn’t have decades-old fans waiting with bated breath for canon content. For Good Omens, we heard it time and time again in interviews; it’s a kind of love story. They had this kind of marriage. They cared for each other. They had a bromance. It’s close, but never quite there. So I thought I knew exactly how this would go, and would be thrilled with what we got. 

And then it absolutely didn’t go that way. It went exactly as far as so many hoped. And it went there like a knife to the gut.

And it was perfect.

Goddamn, what a season ending. Despite my lack of appetite and failure to sleep, I could not be happier with what Mr. Gaiman did. I am screaming crying throwing up and I’m thrilled about it.

The middle of a story is typically what drags; it never holds the highest stakes. Lord knows what we’re going to get in season three (knocking on wood), but I can only expect it to get bigger and heavier. And by God and/or Satan, am I prepared, in this deliciously painful purgatory, to wait and see.  

[tojisun]

kinktober — 04: choking/spanking

recom miles quaritch x human fem reader

!! smut - minors dni; ass and pussy spanking; choking and hair pulling; slight dumbification; size difference; dirty talk; no actual penetration

kinktober mlist

it was a slip of the tongue, something that your sleep-deprived mind conjured up with not much thought. it wasn’t even something that you usually pondered on, nor was it like a nagging feeling that would keep you up at night.

you didn’t even mean it. but it didn’t matter – you still said it.

you felt miles stiffen from where he’s pressed on your back, his hand pausing from where it had been slowly massaging the swell of your hip. 

you feel yourself freeze too, body locked in trepidation. 

“what was’at?” he asks, his voice rumbling from the top of your head.

“nothing!” you are quick to reply only to hiss in discomfort when his hand squeezes your hip in response, his thumb digging into the flesh of your ass. 

“i don’t like liars,” miles says because of course he would.

you know he’s not asking because he didn’t hear, not when you’ve been there to test the extent of his new abilities. you know this is part of a bigger scheme, something that had your legs squeezing together as you swallowed the lump in your throat to finally whisper, “i said i miss the way you used to fuck me, back when you were a human.”

there was a sudden hush in the room, the two of you stilling, before you’re being yanked from miles’ front and forced onto your elbows and knees.

“miles-”

“ass up, baby.” he pushes a hand down to the small of your back, forcing you to arch up in that way he always praised you for. “stay like that or so help me, cupcake, you’ll be pregnant by the end of this.”

you startle at his words – promises you know that can’t come true – as your breath leaves your lungs in a sudden swoop. you couldn’t even force your mind to catch up before a sharp sting reverberates from your clothed ass.

you squeal, breaking your form, but that only makes miles punish you again. this time, two slaps on either side of your cheeks, your pyjama shorts and lingerie not doing anything to dampen the blow. 

“i’m sorry!” you cry out as he manhandles you back up again. 

miles laughs, the sound so cruel as it slips past his lips. “of course you are, pumpkin.” his voice curls in a teasing manner, his southern accent making his words lilt in that mean way that he loves to use. 

you twist your head to catch a glimpse of miles, hoping to use your teary eyes and pouty lips to make him buckle, but your lover’s new body is made of long limbs and all defined muscles, leaving you eyeing nothing but an expanse of blue skin. you whine, wiggling your hips, but miles just hums, his warm hands wrapping around your trimmed waist, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles on your back before they hook onto the band of your shorts.

your breath hitches, your mind going blank.

miles presses his lips on your shoulder, gentle even as he slides down the silk pyjamas off your body. “y’smell so good, hon.”

the sudden shock of cool air hitting your body is chased away by the warmth of his front, and you melt into the sheets, your eyes going heavy at the press of his body against yours. big hands cup your ass, deft fingers massaging your muscles, and you giggle at how quick it was for your body to melt in his hold. 

miles kisses you one last time before he’s pulling back up. one of his hands leaves your hips, gliding upwards to trail burning touches along your back until it reaches the base of your nape where he pauses to swipe your hair away before finally wrapping the whole of his hand around your neck. you sigh at the pressure, feeling yourself slipping under the fog. 

“see? bein’ a good girl ain’t too hard, ain’t it?” miles murmurs, his hold gaining strength, thick fingers digging into your skin. you whine, feeling the heat build up from where he’s holding you, before he eases his grip again. “but of course, you rather be a fuckin’ brat.”

the barrage of slaps on your bare ass shocks you, ripping you from the heavy daze that you were falling into. a choked whimper slips past your lips and you buckle under his hold, trying, in vain, to escape miles’ heavy hand but the grip on the back of your neck grounds you – warns you – and you go still, reduced to muffling your shaky breaths into the pillow.

miles laughs throughout, his hand falling onto the quickly-bruising skin of your ass in unexpected tempo, never once following a rhythm. you are sobbing now, torn between the beautiful pressure of your lover’s steady hold and his punishing strikes, broken cries resonating amidst the slapping sounds. 

“y’r tremblin’ so beautifully, love,” miles growls and you startle when his teeth nip at your shoulder blade, his fangs digging into your skin enough to cause angry welts. he licks at the irritated skin and leaves another hit on your right cheek. “do y’know how wet you are right now, hon?”

you reply, you think – you don’t really know. it must have been a broken whimper because miles just hums in response, his thumb sliding up the column of your neck until it teases the short strands of hair at the base of your head. you feel his hand pat your hip gently before he dips a finger into your heat to press along your wet folds. 

you blink in surprise, causing tears to trickle down your already damp face as miles plays with your sensitive slit, messing you up with every stroke. he spreads your slick along your trembling body, rumbling chuckles vibrating from his chest as he stains even the insides of your thighs. 

“goddamn, cupcake,” he snarls. “you fuckin’ reek.”

you mewl at his words, burying your head back to your pillow, trying to ignore the heat spreading on your face. 

you want him to fuck you now. want him to make a mess out of your cunt, bury all of his cock until it breaches the entrance of your cervix. pleasepleaseplease-

“miles, please,” you hiccup out loud, feeling your pleasure swell in your pussy. “fuck me already, please miles. please!”

but miles just laughs, his fingers pulling away from teasing your folds. you buck in displeasure, wiggling your hips, hoping that miles will give in but you should have known better.

you should have expected this.

miles delivers another slap on your body, this one hitting your cunt instead. you scream, the sound so guttural that miles does it again and again, ensuring that with each hit his fingers brush against your hardened clit. 

you go dizzy at the blend of muted pleasure and resonating pain, going cross-eyed at the consistent smacks. you feel more than hear the way your slick makes the slaps wetter, his palm gliding a lot easier and with more rigorous purpose. 

it’s so good; it’s not enough – your mind races to make sense of what you are feeling only to get lost at the unending pressure.

“miles! miles!” you don’t even know why you are moaning his name.

“not yet, sweetheart. just a few more,” is all your lover says and you can’t make sense of what he means. what he’s trying to achieve. 

you lose track of time, giving up on cataloguing each rush of pleasure or pain that miles gives you. he has long let go of your neck to grip on your hair, fisting messy strands as he pulls. he’s left marks along the column of your neck, and you don’t even have it in you to care about how you will hide these under your uniform tomorrow.

then, ripping past your stuttering mind, euphoria seizes you all of a sudden, growing from the pit of your belly and racing along your spine. you freeze, not able to make sense if it will peak, too drunk from miles’ undoing. all of a sudden, you feel miles’ hand gaining speed and you realize that this is what he had been building you up for.

“cummin’!” you wail, arching into miles’ hand. “miles, baby, cummin’! i’m cummin!”

miles growls from behind you, his face burrowing in the juncture of your neck. “c’mon, pumpkin. cum for me.”

and you do, your body locking as you cum, wailing his name – the only thing you are still sure of. your eyes go blind at the pleasure, your ears ringing with white noise. 

distantly, you feel him press his lips on your damp skin, licking a stripe on your marked up neck. “‘s right,” he murmurs. “y’ve been such a good girl f’r me, sweetheart. such a good girl.”

he is saying something else but you lose your consciousness before you can hear them, your last thought being the quiet rumbling of elation that is spreading through you even amidst the angry bruises that miles left you with. 

but that is alright because you know that miles will take care of you. 

he always does. 

tags: @pandoraslxna @stargirlrchive @liwooa

[ianbeck]

Title: “Sleeping Bag Envy”

Scene: Teachers’ Lounge at U.A. High School. Mr. Aizawa is sprawled out in his signature yellow fluffy sleeping bag, sipping tea lazily. All Might is seated across from him, trying to mask his jealousy. The atmosphere is casual, but there’s an underlying tension over the ridiculous situation.

Aizawa (yawning and stretching within the confines of his sleeping bag):*

“Ahh… Nothing beats a good nap in my yellow fluffy sleeping bag. It’s like being hugged by a cloud, wrapped in pure comfort. You know, All Might, the softness is unparalleled. You wouldn’t understand.”

All Might (struggling to maintain his smile, his fists clenching slightly):

“Oh, I see, Aizawa! Always one to… indulge in the finer things in life, eh?” (laughs awkwardly) “A sleeping bag… that luxurious. Who would’ve thought?”

Aizawa (smirking, obviously enjoying All Might’s discomfort):

“It’s not just any sleeping bag. This baby is made from the finest fibers, meticulously woven for optimal coziness. Look at it. Look at the shine! It’s almost… silky to the touch.” (Aizawa slowly rubs the inside of the bag as if demonstrating) “Ever had anything so soft, All Might?”

All Might (clearly getting flustered, voice raising slightly):

“I—I’ve had many soft things, thank you very much!” (pauses, lowering his voice) “But… never anything quite like that. How much did it cost? Surely, I could afford one too.”

Aizawa (chuckling, eyes half-lidded):

“Ah, but it’s not about the money. It’s about… exclusivity. This is custom-made. You can’t just stroll into a store and pick one up. It’s been tailored… to my exact needs.”

All Might (getting more frustrated, his eyes narrowing):

“Tailored, huh? What, did they measure your… whole body?” (grits his teeth, trying to maintain composure) “Does it come with extra room for all that… attitude of yours?”

Aizawa (laughing softly, unzipping the sleeping bag just a little, showing how spacious it is inside):

“Actually, it does. Plenty of room for… stretching out. You know, after a long day of hero work, it’s nice to just… slide in. The feeling is… unmatched.”

All Might (blushing slightly but trying to hide it, crossing his arms):

“Slide in, huh? Sounds comfortable. Maybe I should try it out. Just, you know, for research purposes. Can’t let one of my fellow heroes have all the luxury!”

Aizawa (raising an eyebrow, giving him a teasing look):

“Research purposes, huh? Sure. You could try it, but I don’t think you’d be able to handle it. It’s… a little too cozy. Wouldn’t want you to get stuck in here.”

All Might (standing up, face red, clearly trying to maintain his pride):

“Stuck?! I— I’m All Might! I can handle anything! Just let me…” (pauses, awkwardly realizing the situation he’s putting himself in) “Besides, how soft could it really be?”

Aizawa (unzipping the sleeping bag all the way, laying it open, smirking):

“Come on then. See for yourself. But be warned… once you’re in, you may never want to leave.”

All Might (staring down at the inviting, plush interior of the bag, suddenly very self-conscious):

“I—I mean, well… maybe… maybe next time. I should really—uh—grade some papers!” (turns to leave quickly, clearly flustered)

Aizawa (closing his eyes with a satisfied grin, calling out after him):

“Sure, All Might. Anytime you want to… slide in, just let me know.”

End scene.

PICTURE AND SCRIPT WAS MADE WITH CHATGPT.

[klaus-littlestwolf]

Heyy I totally understand how you would feel uncomfortable about the Ed one so could you please do the insomnia one shot i cant wait to read it if you do xx

Internal Clock in Smithereens -Klaus M.

(Sorry this one took so long, I completely forgot I had nearly finished it)

She tried so incredibly hard to hide it.

The first 2 months of their relationship she came up with every excuse in the book to not stay the night at his house. Forgotten things, appointments the next day, family emergencies, and she had to give Klaus credit for putting up with it for 2 whole months before he began taking it personally.

Admittedly he considered she was just more comfortable sleeping in her own bed and so he had gone shopping and gotten the comfiest bed he could possibly find. He knew she liked it because she had drifted off on it for many naps at the strangest times, naps he always felt bad waking her up from for some reason he couldn’t identify, though she never complained.

He had also considered that she was uncomfortable around his siblings and so he set out to ensure they behaved themselves around her and they all did. Elijah loved Y/n, he was thrilled to finally meet his brothers redemption in human form, he knew this girl was it for his little brother and he would do anything he had to, to make sure she stayed with him. Even if that means controlling Kol.

Shockingly enough, Kol loved her as well. She distracted Klaus and kept him off of the youngest Mikaelson’s back, she also kept him in a mostly good mood which saved Kol many a time when he had screwed up again. Rebekah also enjoyed her (though it took her a while to warm up) after learning that Y/n was much different than her Scooby Gang friends and didn’t judge Rebekah. Y/n enjoyed spending time with the Original girl, going shopping with her, having days out just the two of them, basically giving Rebekah the best friend she had always wanted.

All 3 of his siblings would have done anything to make sure Y/n was comfortable in their home.

It was actually Elijah that proposed the possibility of her having sleeping troubles but Klaus dismissed this as he had seen her fall asleep in the oddest places at the oddest times.

When Klaus finally just asked her if she had reservations about being with him, she gave in and stayed over. She didn’t want him to think that she didn’t love him, or that she was afraid of him so she pushed through her discomfort and packed a bag, staying with him for the entire weekend.

The first day after Klaus woke up he had planned a day out for the both of them and though she was exhausted, she powered through. The second night she laid there, staring at the ceiling all night long with Klaus’ arms around her without the option of even reading on her phone, only getting about an hour and a half of actual sleep.

It was the third night that she finally snuck from his arms and ended up in the family room, reading a book. Klaus woke up around 2am and ventured off to find her, thoroughly confused as he could clearly see how exhausted she was when he looked at her eyes.

‘Love? What are you doing out of bed?’ He asked and she jumped, startled as none of the vampires in this house make noise when they walk. She had gotten used to identifying everyone she’s ever lived with by their footsteps but she can’t do it here.

‘I couldn’t sleep is all. Go back to bed Nik, I’m okay.’ He shook his head, moving to her and taking her into his arms with no effort at all.

‘I’m not going without you. Come on, I’ll make you some hot tea and you’ll fall right asleep.’ She shook her head this time and tried to get him to put her down. ‘I can compel you to help you relax…is that what it is? Are you scared of being here? I promise you that my siblings-‘

‘Nik! It has nothing to do with your family, I-‘ she heaved a heavy sigh, forcing her way to her feet and sitting back on the couch while he crouched down in front of her, taking her hands into his.

‘What’s going on, Love? I don’t understand-‘

‘I can’t sleep.’ She admitted, actually feeling good about finally saying it out loud to him. ‘I have had really bad insomnia since I was a kid. It started when I was 6, it’s why I end up napping in such strange places. I get so physically tired that my body eventually just passes out…it made for some interesting jokes with my family my whole life. That’s why I didn’t want to stay here, it’s even worse in unfamiliar places and I didn’t want to keep you up.’ Klaus paused, just watching his girls eyes as they looked over his face nervously.

‘Why didn’t you tell me, Y/n? It’s not a big deal!’ He eyes hardened and she glared at him angrily. ‘Let me rephrase that. It’s obviously a big deal that you can’t sleep. It sucks and I wish you didn’t have this problem, but it’s not a big deal to me.’ He hated how she looked up at him in that moment and he wanted so badly to comfort her, moving himself to the couch and pulling her onto his lap, kissing her head tenderly.

‘It’s embarrassing. Do you know how funny everyone thought it was when I was a kid? They got annoyed that I would be up watching TV all night but then be laughing about a new picture they took of me asleep leaning against the couch standing up. It was like my issues were a huge joke to tell at parties. My parents showed those humiliating pictures to everyone that listened, she sent one into school for my yearbook childhood picture. I don’t tell anyone…I should have just told you but I didn’t want to risk you finding it funny. God knows Kol would never let it go-‘

‘No one here will tease you, I’ll make sure of it. Now, let’s go get you to sleep. I don’t know how long compulsion will last but you’ll be able to get some rest. No more embarrassment over this, you had me worried sick, do you hear me love?’ She nodded, allowing her Hybrid to sweep her off of her feet and carry her back to his overly comfortable bed.

It turns out compulsion only works for about 3 hours at a time but considering how shitty her sleep normally is, it does wonders for her. Klaus is more than happy to wake up and compel her once again into sleeping for a few more hours and now that he can, he all but moved her into his home with him.

Apparently even a fucked up internal clock doesn’t stand a chance against a hybrid.

(This isn’t my best work. I wasn’t really into it and I feel like it really shows (even if it was already meant to be a short fic) but I hope you at least enjoy it a little bit)

Klaus Mikaelson Masterlist

[2nd2ndalto]

I have a headcanon that all the demigod kids routinely end up in each others beds/cabins at night, because nightmares and trauma and whatnot. So I wrote this smol fic.

~~~~~

There Is Rest and There's You

The first time Nico sees Annabeth leaving the Poseidon cabin at an ungodly early hour (having been dragged from his warm bed by Leo and Jason for an ungodly early errand), he flushes, quickly looking away. Because it's obvious, even to him, that she’d spent the night. But Annabeth merely sleepily raises a hand in greeting and continues on her way back to her own cabin.

Jason, maybe noticing Nico’s discomfort, simply shrugs. “Musical cabins,” he explains. “Happens a lot.”

Leo nods in agreement. “Yep. I had some really wicked nightmares last week, three nights running. I ended up on Jason’s floor. Would have been in the bed, but Piper got there first,” he adds, disgruntled.

Huh, Nico thinks. Musical cabins. That's a little weird.

After that, he pays more attention. It’s not unusual, as it turns out, to find the Apollo cabin overstuffed with various campers early in the morning, rivalling even the occupancy of the Hermes cabin. Sometimes it’s couples tucked in together, but more often it’s friends, siblings. Seeking comfort, and sleep.

It's six months into Nico's stay at Camp when he begins forgetting to lock the door to Cabin Thirteen. He nearly runs Harley through with his sword the first night he finds the younger boy fast asleep in his cabin. But after that, it quickly becomes routine to wake to the quiet comfort of someone else’s soft snoring across the darkened room. Most often it's Will, brushing a warm hand over Nico's forehead before settling into the other bed, but sometimes it's Harley, and several times Leo, complaining that Jason’s bed was already full.

It’s a little weird, but surprisingly nice. Nico begins leaving his door unlocked most of the time.

On a night late in February, the nightmares are worse than usual. Nico wakes in a cold sweat, heart pounding, tears welling behind his eyelids. He does what he usually does - dresses quickly, and walks. There’s something meditative about the rhythm of his boots on the ground and the sharp, cold air on his skin that usually settles him.

But the thing is, it’s really cold. And after only about half an hour he finds himself standing in the central green, torn. He can't feel his toes, but he can’t quite stomach the thought of returning to his own empty cabin, either.

His frozen feet lead him up the stairs to Cabin Seven. And gods, it’s warm inside.

There’s a soft rustle of blankets from Will’s bunk.

“Nico?” Will’s voice is soft and scratchy. “What’s wrong?”

The taller boy is out of bed and across the cabin in a heartbeat, reaching for Nico’s hand. Scanning him, Nico knows, blue eyes wide with worry.

Nico shakes his head. “I’m fine. Just - couldn’t sleep,” he murmurs, and the concern on Will’s face fades to sympathy.

“The bunk above mine is empty,” he says simply.

And that’s that. Nico climbs up, snuggles in. Will’s messy blond bedhead pops over the edge of the bunk, his smile fond. He squeezes Nico’s arm. “Sleep tight.” And then he disappears.

Nico worries it might be awkward, in the daylight. It’s anything but. The Apollo cabin is a riot of sound and motion in the morning. Austin flings a stuffed turtle at Nico's head. Nico's foot is hanging off the edge of the bunk, and Kayla tickles it, cackling when he squeaks.

“Breakfast time, sleepyhead,” she chirps.

“Sleep well?” Will asks as Nico climbs back down.

And the thing is, he really did.

Time passes. The nightmares wax and wane, but they get easier, mostly.

Until one night in July. It’s almost a year to the day since he came to stay at Camp - Nico thinks, later, maybe that’s why the nightmares hit particularly hard. He wakes shaking, gasping for air, convinced he’s fading again, permanently this time. It scares him so much more than it did when it was actually happening. He shoves his hands against the wood of his headboard, hard, positive they’re going to slip right through. They don’t, but he can't shake the panic.

Nico’s up and out the door in the space of a breath, no hesitation as he makes a beeline, barefoot, for Cabin Seven. The air is cool for July, the full moon shining bright above.

He can feel his panic ease the second he closes the door behind him, soothed by a quiet symphony of soft breathing.

But the bunk above Will’s is occupied tonight, and as Nico's eyes adjust, he realizes all the others are, too.

“Nico?” Will’s voice is a whisper. “Nightmare?” He sits up, silhouetted in moonlight.

“Yeah.” Nico steps closer. “Looks like you’re all full in here, though. I’ll see you in the morning.”

He turns to leave, but Will grabs his arm. “I’ll come with you.”

“No, it’s okay. I’ll be fine. You go back to sleep.”

Will gazes at him in the dark, fingers still wrapped around Nico’s wrist. “Or you could stay. Here.”

“There’s no room, though.”

“I have room,” Will whispers.

Nico blinks at Will’s bunk, then back at Will, his stomach attempting to leap into his throat. Will’s eyes are wide, nervous.

“I... um -” Nico begins. He can feel his face heating at the thought of it.

“Gods, di Angelo, just stop talking and get into his bed. Literally no one cares,” Kayla grumbles from the next bunk over. There appears to be at least one Demeter kid in her bed. Maybe two.

Will’s fighting a grin now and he shrugs. Nico shrugs back, then… climbs into the bed. Will scoots over to make room, pulling the blankets over them both. And gods it’s warm, and it smells like Will, and when nothing else calms him, that always does.

Nico lets his eyes close. Then -

“Do - do I feel like I’m fading?” he asks in a whisper, echoes of the nightmare flashing behind his closed eyelids.

Will gazes at him. Then he reaches for Nico’s hand.

“No,” Will whispers. Someone clears their throat nearby and Will grimaces, yanking the blankets over their heads.

“Did something happen?” he asks, his breath brushing Nico’s face.

“No, just - nightmare."

Will nods in understanding. “No. You’re good,” he smiles. He goes to pull the blankets back down, then seems to reconsider.

“That’s um… that’s usually why I end up in your cabin. At night.” he admits, quiet. “Sometimes... I just need to make sure that you’re still solid.”

Nico stomach flip-flops. "Oh."

Will shrugs, sheepish. He pulls the blankets back down, settling on his side. "Here," he says, reaching for Nico's hand again. "Then neither of us has to worry." He tangles their fingers together, reaching out to lay his other hand on Nico's arm, tethering him.

Will's soft smile in the dark is dazzling, and his hands are warm, and Nico worries his own answering smile might just light up the entire cabin.

When he wakes hours later to the familiar sounds of chaos, his head tucked against Will's shoulder, Will's face buried in his hair, well. He thinks maybe this musical cabins thing isn't so bad after all.

Notes

This is a short one! I tried to challenge myself to write something coherent in 1000 words or less. I almost managed it.

It is also my personal headcanon that Harley kind of attaches himself to Nico & sees him as a big brother. This comes up in something else I'm working on as well.

I would love to hear your related headcanons! Snuggly demigods! Sleeping in heaps like puppies!

Jason may not come up much in my fics but please rest assured he is Always Alive.

[knockyasocksoff2022]

It Counts

Sicktember 2024 - Prompt #10 The Sniffles (TM)

Words: 1,642

Pairing: Nakajima Atsushi / Akutagawa Ryuunosuke

POV: First person (Atsushi)

Atsushi’s Perspective:

The single light fills the bathroom with a warm glow, colouring my reflection orange in the mirror. I take the temperature reading device out of my mouth before it can start to beep, so as not to wake Ryuu.

Sure enough, no fever. Perfectly normal. It’s just the weather change giving the tiger, an animal taht prefers warmer environments, a bit of trouble. I’m being dramatic.

‘Spoilt brat! Since when did you become such a hypochondriac? Such weakness will only bring everyone around you down.’

The thought startles me, it came from somewhere deep inside my mind, the part that never really left the orphanage, that sometimes I fear never really will.

As quietly as I can, I walk back to bed. The entire flat has heated floors, but it still feels a bit cold. I know it’s just me because Ryuu sleeps, unbothered.

Still, if there’s any chance I even could be sick, I should sleep on the sofa. Just to be safe.

‘You selfish person, why didn’t you move to the sofa when you felt tired earlier? You’ll get him sick and then he might die!’

My mind's scolding confuses me. Am I sick or not?

-

The sofa is comfortable . . . normally when I’m sitting or cuddled against Ryuu, but now the discomfort is familiar. I drift to sleep, scolding myself for worrying about the neck pain.

–

“Huh?”

I think Ryuu said something to me, but I don’t really wake up until he starts the coffee grinder. The sound grate sound my ears.

“I said: Good morning, Jinko.”

“Oh.”

“May I ask why you are on the sofa?”

Crap! I can’t tell him. I mean, it’s not like I’m even ill. I don’t need him freaking out.

“Uh, I got overheated last night, so I came out here.” My voice sounds way too deep, almost guttural.

He raises an eyebrow, pouring the ground coffee into the coffee maker without looking. “Mmm, interesting, seeing as you’re wearing a jumper.”

Oops.

“Well, the jumper and blanket were too much, but the jumper by itself was fine.” I know I’m only digging myself deeper, but what else can I do? I can’t have him fussing over me when I’m not actually ill.

“Nice try, Jinko. As much as I enjoy you’re morning voice, you are clearly congested.” He trunks his back to me before I can retort. 

Ah, well, there goes that. I sigh, feeling the mucus shift unpleasantly in the back of my throat. I stand, crossing the living room to the kitchen, to make breakfast.

“Peppermint, or Lemon and Ginger tea, Jinko?” He trunks around, holding up two bags.

“Ryuu, stop. It’s barely the sniffles.”

“Tea is proven to help with symptoms like sore throats and congestion.” He explains.

“I know that, but I’m not-I don’t need all that. I’m fine, just- please don’t. Let me make my breakfast. I’ve got to pack my lunch too. I have to be at work at 7:00.”

“Nakajima Atsushi . . .”

My full name. That means he’s about to try and convince me (and it’s about to work). I cut him off.

“No, I don’t even have a fever. I’m not sick enough for this.”

“For what, Atsushi, a little tea? You drink tea all the time, what’s so special about it today?”

“I, uh- you don’t need to make tea for me.”

“Of course not, nothing I do for you is “necessary”, Jinko. I am the sick one. I am the one who requires care, Everything I do for you is because I want to. I know you are perfectly capable of making tea, so are you going to do it yourself?”

I won’t. He’s caught me.

“Well, Atsushi, will you?”

I can’t. It’s not right.

The way he’s looking at me . . . I have to give him so explanation. 

“I-I don’t deserve it,” I whisper. It feels pathetic to say it even if the words are air-horn loud inside my head. “I’m sorry, sorry for troubling you.”

His eyes narrow, faint brows furrowing, and he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. I did just what I didn’t want to do. I made trouble for him.

He exhales heavily, then speaks, “Don’t deserve it, hmm? Well, tell me then, Jinko, how sick do you have to be before you do? Why do I deserve all you do for me?”

What? What is he saying? Of course, he deserves it.

“Because you can’t help it, and I love you!” My voice breaks. It hurts a bit. 

Weak.

He exhales again, “God, Atsushi, do you hear yourself? I can’t help it? Of course not. But neither can you. You didn’t decide to become ill. You-”

“But I’m not ill, not really. I don’t have a fever, it doesn’t count.”

His eyes widen. He stands frozen for a second, then he’s hugging me, hard, face pressed into my neck, nuzzling me.

“No, Ryuu, stop, you’ll catch-”

He ignores me, “Is that what you think?”

“Yes! Now please back up!”

“If it doesn’t count, then why shouldn’t I hug you?” He asks, “If it doesn’t count, why shouldn’t I do this?” He comes close again, lips nearly touching mine. 

I shove him away, barely falling back as I do. I might now be very ill, but for Ryuu, even small things can turn bad.

“Just because you have no measurable symptoms doesn’t mean that you aren’t feeling poorly. Yes?”

I sniffle, I can’t help it anymore. “Y-yes.”

“Now, which tea would you like?”

“Um, Lemon and Ginger, please.”

“Alright, go back to bed. I’ll bring it in.”

“Ryuu, I have work.”

“Sleep would speed up the recovery process.” He argues.

“I want to go to work, I feel well enough. And work would distract me.” It’s true, I’m barely congested. I don’t even have a headache.

He looks at me with slightly narrowed eyes, scanning me up and down, then nods, “There’s no need to tell you that I trust you Jinko. If you say you’re fine, I believe it, but at least allow me to make you proper breakfast and pack your lunch. Try and get a few more minutes in while I do so. You’d be no help at work if you allowed yourself to get worse.”

I can’t argue with that, as harsh as he may seem, Ryuu always knows what will knock sense into me, it seems. I suppose that’s why we’re dating.

-

True to his word, I have plenty of time to dress for work when Ryuu wakes me.

“But, Atsushi, you are not wearing that ridiculous get-up, not today.”

He hands me a stack of clothes before returning to the kitchen to finish breakfast.

I unfold the stack. It contains my usual colours, with slightly different components. Instead of my usual capris, there’s a pair of soft, black joggers (the fashionable kind with the thin ankle elastics), an undershirt and a soft, white T-shirt (it’s long on me, so it must be his) Lastly, a black cable knit jumper to complete the outfit. There are throat lozenges in the pocket.

I leave it off for now, knowing my elevated body temperature I might overheat, but after a second of debate, I stuff it in my bag. Just in case I can’t take the office’s air con as well as usual.

Ryuu’s breakfast is delicious, and I eat almost all of it.

-

I blow him a kiss as I get up. He catches it, then hands one of his black lunch boxes. It feels heavier than it should. I give him a questioning look.

“Soup.” He explains, looking me over with a frown.

“Really, Ryuu, I’m alright.”

“Where’s the jacket?”

“I’ve got it right here, in my bag.” I open my satchel to show him, “See.”

“It’s windy out today, put it on.” 

Chuckling at his antics, I do. “Happy?” And I hand him back the bills from his pocket. “I think you left these.”

“O, that’s for cab fare. It should cover your trip there and home.”

“Ryuu, you don’t have to, the train is perfectly fin-”

He places a finger over my lips, reaches behind me to the coat hooks for a scarf, and fastens it on my neck.

“The station is blocks and blocks away, you don’t need to walk today. I’m sure you’ll get your steps in adequately at work. There. Now you may go. And you had better tell Dazai-san that you can’t fight today. If I see you, I’ll drag you straight back home.”

“Yeah, yeah, Ryuu, I will.” I blow him one last kiss before putting on my mask and heading out the door.

–

Of course, I get funny looks for showing up in a cab, and my outfit, but it’s mostly forgotten when they see my mask. Thankfully, Dazai-san steps in to keep Yosano-sensei, and Kyouka from worrying too much, as much of a hypochondriac as he is, he seems to understand not wanting attention. 

I’m glad for my jacket, the office feels colder than usual today.

-

By lunch, I feel better. Kunikida-san put me on desk duty, even when I instead he didn’t, but he said it hardly mattered since we had no field cases today. Judging by the amount of paperwork from our latest cases, that’s probably a good thing. 

Despite only filing papers all day, my appetite has come back. The tiger heals wounds instantaneously, but she takes a bit longer for things like this, so I’m not surprised. I’m starving.

It looks like Ryuu anticipated that I would be feeling better, just like always, even when he chides me he has more faith than I have in myself sometimes. 

The lunch box contains all the ingredients for chazuke, arranged carefully, minus the tea, which is in the thermos. That must be why it felt heavy. For some reason, seeing the lunch box makes my chest feel warm. It’s nice. Is this how Ryuu feels when I care for him? I can only hope so.

As I pour the tea, I can only think that maybe my burdens aren’t as big as I think they are. Maybe sharing my burdens isn’t always so terrible. Maybe sometimes sharing can make them smaller.

Either way, Ryuu’s double portion of Chazuke is wonderful.

[meiiuka]

hii!! i rlly love ur posts and i wanted to ask,

could you write fuyuhiko, ishimaru, and shuichi with a reader who ends up in the hospital alot?

if you cant/dont want to, just ignore this post! no hard feelings lol ^^ anyway, have a good day!!!

hi!! i’m so happy to hear you like my posts, it means a lot to me <3

fuyuhiko, ishimaru, and shuichi with an s/o who ends up in the hospital often:

category: headcanons, x reader, comfort, fluff

Fuyuhiko Kuzuryu:

• he just wants to protect you and make you feel more safe so he holds you closely when you’re feeling sick or anxious

• whenever you end up in the hospital, he gets really anxious and can become desperate for answers

• during your stay there, consider him your guardian angel bc he will not leave your side even if you insist

• he checks on you veryyy often. and he tries to be unobvious about it sometimes but 😭 he cares so much he can’t hide it

• “i don’t care what it takes to make sure you’re okay, i would go to the ends of the goddamn earth for you, got that?”

• he’s super stubborn and needs to make sure you’re okay, so he waits in the hospital room with you

• and if he can’t? he will wait outside in the parking lot until he can

• he’s argues with the staff about letting him in so he can check on you,, sometimes it actually works

• he kisses your forehead when you fall asleep because he wants to make you sleep well

• “i love you. squeeze my hand if you’re in pain, i can take it.”

Kiyotaka Ishimaru:

• he’s alert to any signs of illness or discomfort and has learned your signals overtime

• “y/n, i do worry there may be something wrong! are you feeling ok? should i get you a water? medicine?”

• he needs to be near you in case something happens. he loves you and wants to be prepared if anything occurred

• if you end up in the hospital, it never gets less scary for him

• even if its routine, he still can’t mask his anxiety behind potentially losing the love of his life

• “i felt too worried about you to sleep properly last night… would it be okay if i asked to stay in your hospital room overnight?”

• if this means he has to sleep on the floor, so be it, he will

• he tries to avoid smothering you but tends to be really physically clingy, just in fear you may feel alone

• “my love, tell me how you are. i want to listen to your fears and pain… i’d never move an inch if you asked me to! i’m right here.”

• he takes you out on lots of dates once you’re discharged, making sure you handle yourself carefully when you go outside again

Shuichi Saihara:

• he tries to come to your door every day and texts your phone if he knows he isn’t going to be able to see you irl

• “hey… y/n, are you feeling ok today? i was worried about you last night, i couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

• he doesn’t want you to worry about him worrying, he just wants you to feel that he cares

• and he definitely does. a whole lot more than he could even express to you

• when you end up in the hospital he’s the first to show up. how did he even know you were there?

• “i just… felt like something was off. gut feeling… and i needed to see the scene.”

• he loves writing little cards and sending lots of flowers and surprises to you when you’re in the hospital— every single time no matter how many

• “oh these? yeah, some are from your family and friends, but these ones are from me.”

• and he points to a neat stack of wrapped presents and cards

• he massages your scalp and leans over to kiss your lips and hand while you lay down

• “i love you so, so much. i could never lose you, i just want you to be safe and… comfortable. i’ll hold your hand right here.”

[fangirleaconmigo]

So I’ve been a bit absent. Putting a ‘read more’ because shit in my life has gotten very real very quickly.

One of my younger sisters went to urgent care with stomach discomfort last Tuesday. It turned out that she had a huge mass in her pelvis, (18x25 cm) and our lives were plunged into a black hole of fear.

In the past week/weekend, she’s gotten blood tests and referrals for more scans. Every test result is more ominous and terrifying than the last. It is definitely ovarian cancer and she will need a major surgery and we don’t know what else.

In one day, I moved her completely into my house. She gave notice on hers. We are trying to find foster care for her cats while she is in treatment because she can’t care for them during, and neither can I.

We still haven’t had a proper prognosis and treatment plan. That will be today, I hope. I am about to drive her to her first actual appointment with a real oncologist.

It’s early and I’m lying awake in my bed. I haven’t slept much in the past weeks. I go to sleep googling ovarian cancer, and I wake up and google ovarian cancer, and I feel like an entire house is crushing me. I can barely breathe. I have to go fetal position for a few minutes sometimes during the day to get through it.

We need some hope today. We need some good news. We need, at the very minimum, a plan for her care. Something to focus on.

Please keep us in your thoughts and send us some love and good will. She is either in shock or being very brave but she could get hopeful, or devastating news today (or more terrifying limbo) and I don’t know where that will leave us.

I won’t try to tell you how much my sister means to me. But I will say that we grew up together in an isolated family with shitty, monstrous, abusive parents and it fused us together in profound ways. I raised her to the extent that a child can raise another child. (It’s like that John Mulaney joke where he said his babysitter was so young, it was like a horse caring for a dog lol)

We are both super sci-fi fantasy nerds. I watch tv with her probably three to four nights a week, and we can talk for LITERAL HOURS about the intricacies of the writing and the characters on the various franchises. We usually agree, but we probably woke the neighbors with our argument about who the best Doctor Who companion was.

We work at the same hospital and share an office one day a week, and the people in the hall probably hear our elaborate Star Wars or MCU theories.

I know better than to get her started about certain things, but no matter what I do, every Thanksgiving she gives an entire speech about how the LOTR movie adaptations failed Gimli, son of Gloin.

We’ve been to Supernatural cons (we’ve both written SPN fic), and SDCC together many times. Actually, we went to ECCC together this year, so @spacecores and @roguepyrola met her and can attest to the fact that she is a mouthy, down to earth, absolutely brilliant, funny, foul mouthed, nerdy ass bitch.

I NEED HER, ok, I FUCKIN NEED HER.

So if you meditate, pray, send intentions, I don’t care what it is, I need it today. Her appointment is in about three hours and we need some hope.

Thanks for reading, friends. ♥️ I know this isn’t fandom related but we’re all real life human beings here with real lives, and that’s what is happening in mine.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Farmer's Daughter 8

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Walter Marshall

Summary: You notice a peculiar change in a family friend. (short!reader, sorry size kink is out)

Part of the Backwoods AU

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You finally manage to quell your sobs. A slight trickle stains your cheeks and falls onto Walter’s shirt. You sniffle and reach to wipe your nose with the back of your hand. As you do, your fingers brush against his chest. 

You hear his heartbeat, steady as you’re anything but. He’s warm and soft and sturdy. You feel a sudden rush of guilt for spilling all this out on him. You slowly sit up, pulling away as Walter gently, almost reluctantly, slackens his embrace. 

“I’m sorry, I–” you raise your head but find your words smothered.

You don’t realise what’s going on at first. Walter’s hand cradles your face as his lips press to yours, tilting your chin up as his thumb slides under it. You hum in surprise, eyes round as the scent of his sweat invades your nose.

You put your hand flat to his chest and push. You bring your other up and shove until he lets you go. His arm falls away and you turn, shifting and sliding off the step. You stand, dizzy and confused, clutching your splitting head.

“I… I’m sorry,” he stammers as he rises too.

You run past him up the steps, legs wobbling, skull pulsing from the hangover of your grief. You push the door inwards and clamour inside. You don’t stop. You barrel upstairs and down to your door, swinging inside with a careless snap of wood on wood.

You lean on the door and slowly slide down, knees bent to your chest as you hang your head forward and shield it with your arms. You hear shuffling and a set of hinges groan. Footsteps pad quietly outside your door.

“Honey, are you okay?” Your mom calls through.

“Yes,” you force out evenly, the effort further thumping in your temples.

“Oh, uh, I’ll be downstairs,” she says, her voice silty with sleep, “you in the mood for coffee?”

“No thank you,” you eke out.

You wait until she’s gone before you can breathe again. It can’t be real. That can’t have happened. You really didn’t believe it when your mother said it. Walter? Why would he ever think of you like that? And now? Of all times?

Your father is sick, your mother is in shambles, and life is already so complicated. It isn’t that he’s a bad guy, he’s nice and helpful and all of that. It’s just that you’re already scared and lost. It would only make things so much more complicated.

🌾

You stay in your room for the rest of the night. When your mother comes to check on you, you tell her you have cramps. Your period isn’t due anytime soon but PMS can be a bitch. Just as much as life can.

She leaves a plate on your nightstand regardless and you thank her. You’re not very hungry and only pick at it before giving up on the meal. You wallow in your restless discomfort. Your head pounds until you’re nearly delirious.

You fall into a sleep less than refreshing. Your headache follows you into the void and its shadow greets you with the daylight. You wake and roll over, unready for the day but knowing you must face it. You wash and dress and head down to pretend everything is okay. Again.

You start on breakfast as your mom has yet to appear. You don’t mind, it keeps you busy. You count out the eggs and strips of bacon, a few sausages too. You stack a plate with bread ready to toast and yawn over the percolator as you put it on to boil.

You hear tires and an engine. You go rigid, frozen as you stand at the counter. What do you do? Go get your mother? Help her with dad? Or Timothy? He can keep Walter distracted.

Too late. There’s footsteps on the porch then a tap on the frame of the screen door. You panic and clear your throat. Nothing happened. Nothing’s changed.

“Come on in,” you call and pull out a skillet to heat up.

The front door opens and your ears tweak as you listen to his movement. Deliberate and drawn out, as if he’s also avoiding you. You keep your back to the door as you work at the stove, adding a touch of oil to the pan.

He enters, his shadow flickering over the wall, and you sense him. Is he watching you? You refuse to look back and check in fear of being caught. You grab the sausage and the bacon and lay them out on an oven sheet.

“Good morning,” Walter says.

“Good morning,” you return in a small squeak.

He’s silent. Neither of you know what to say. Each time you try to think of something, the friction of your lips remind you of the feel of his. You hadn’t been thinking in the moment but you remember how soft but determined he was.

Why would he do that? After you were just bawling on his shoulder? Seeing you like that, a mess, vulnerable, half-broken? Your stomach knots as you keep your hands moving and eyes averted.

“How are you?” He asks in a strained timbre.

“Fine,” you answer sharply, taking a breath to ease your tone, “you?”

“Tired,” he says, “you need any help?”

He steps forward and you shy away. You stop yourself from going any further and shake your head, “I got it.”

“Right, I…” he begins.

“Alright, Patty,” your mom’s voice wafts from upstairs, “that’s it. You’re doing so well.”

“Oh, I gotta–”

You turn with the spatula and nearly run into Walter as he also moves towards the door. You stop as you face each other, wavering as you stare. His jaw squares and his cheek twitches, his eyes sparkling.

“You’re cooking. I’ll help.”

“Really, you do too much–”

“I know,” he agrees staunchly and turns away, “too damn much.”

He strides out and you stand there. What does he mean? Too much of what? Well, you can’t ask from him. He has helped more than he should, but is that what he means? Or does he mean… that? 

He wouldn’t just walk away because of that, would he?