#i'm not good at shading so who knows maybe this helps

[butterscotchpiesandguys]

Running Late

You had never really been in shape, it was only natural that you avoided certain places around here, then. Places like the gym and most notably... the park. It was especially bad in late fall, that was when your local college started up track. So... what did you do? Same thing you always did, avoid it to the best of your ability.

Unfortunately for you, your abilities weren't quite good enough to stop fate from intervening. As usual you began your morning commute. It was simple and you liked the nice cool morning air, especially in the fall. Unfortunately... there was construction. You didn't know about it and now you would be late. This was going to be awful...

Your job wasn't amazing but it paid well enough. One other thing... you had been late quite a bit before... you were on one of your last strikes. So what would you do now? You called your boss, telling them you would be late due to construction... just hoping they would understand. Of course, they did not. They told you to go right to their office when you came in. Nothing good about that. So frustrated, you began walking absentmindedly to your better route... You hadn't thought this through.

When getting to the park you realized it too late, especially with the help of some dumb guy walking up to you. Right at the entrance. He wore a pair of athletic shorts that showed off his physique. He looked a bit upset but hard to tell through his shades. "What? Are you one of the people trying out for track? You're late." He looked you up and down. You looked angry, he looked annoyed... nothing good would come out of this.

You sighed and looked at him, "Look, I'm late for-"

He nodded. "Alright alright, I can tell you're late. What's your name? Gavin? Okay, Gavin we're running through the park and nature trail. If you can make it through that in... thirty minutes or less you're on the team."

"What? No you didn-" Again you didn't get to finish before he blew the whistle in your face. Instinctively and oddly you began running. Maybe it was to get out of the situation or maybe something else... Either way you ran. It was tough, you were huffing and puffing as your arms swayed side to side. Your chest was heaving with every labored movement. Your shoes were definitely not cut out for this.

As you kept going you started cussing, it helped you through the pain. Just a bit further and you could get out of the park... You kept running and running. Cussing out your boss, cussing out your co-workers, cussing out your job. "Fuck this" and "Fuck that" everywhere. With every step, every stride your mouth felt sore, your lips felt numb, your chest burnt. You felt like you were dying... but it also felt relieving. Your chest started to pump out, any fat or saggy man tits getting firm if not a bit jiggly. You were burning fat. Fat turned to muscle. Your chin? Yeah it felt like it was burning but really it was reshaping. You needed better air flow as you ran. Your lips were much softer, your chin was much more manly.

You ran your hands through your hair, unaware of the changes going on in your body. You grew hair on your chest, not much but notable. Your hair, nicely styled for your shitty office job, blew in the wind, shaping to a more... simple and trendy style. Helped and had a little bounce. Your head reshaped a bit too... What was going on?

As you neared the turn to get out you just tossed your jacket off and kept running, right passed it! You tried to stop but your legs wouldn't It was like they needed to run... They were growing more muscular. You were getting more muscular. It was easier to breathe and run now. The movements you were making were better, more fitting of a runner who did this often. But your clothes were so restricting... You took off your shitty shirt and belt... but that still wasn't enough. You went down to your underwear... odd... it was now compression boxer briefs.

Your bulge bounced with every step, it grew in size and smell. You were starting to stink quite a bit... Must be the sweat. The scent was intoxicating. You were having trouble thinking of your job. What was it again? Fuck who cared running felt so good. You had passed like three guys so far! Shows them! And you were late!

Getting past a few more you heard some bros... or... guys? No bros felt way better on the brainage. Well either way they were laughing. By now you had caught up to them. "What's so funny?" Odd... you could hold conversation while laughing. One explained that you were doing better than expected. The other made fun of you for being new. He did mention you were doing well with hazing. Hazing? But you weren't even on the team. But before you knew it one sprinted off.

"Oh fuck no you don't!" You laughed and started to sprint after him. Your body was changing and mind solidifying.... and just as you got to the finish marker. You weren't yourself anymore but who cares. You beat that guy. He even shook your hand.

"Name's Hunter, what's yours rookie?"

He laughed as the coach came up to you. "God damn, Gavin. For someone so late I didn't think you had the grit." He patted your back and handed you a shirt. It was yours yeah? Yeah it had to be.

"Gavin, huh? Yeah I think you'll fit in well on varsity." Hunter smiled and started to walk off. "Think you can take the cooldown?" He smirked, smug of course.

You paused to try and think for a second before laughing and blurting out; "Cool down? I'm hardly done yet, dude!" With that Hunter nodded and you two ran again... Racing... Hunter had found a rival, you found purpose, not if only you could find where you left your pants...

Enjoy your new life, meathead.

[toaster-fire-art]

bit of a palet cleanser. I've been working on touching up or reworking projects i did for my illustration class last year and this is the result of a couple of them!

The first is the Buddhist temple atop the Shibaozhai Pagoda, I drew the whole pagoda for class but I wanted to do detail work so yk.

Second are two studies I did of Rudolf Koppitz's photgraphs Bewegungsstudie (Movement/Motion Study), 1925 and as much as I searched for the name of the second I could not find it? may or may not be from 1927, don't quote me on it.

[eufezco]

THE MUSE

Benedict needs to practice female form. Naked female form. And who better to help him than his lifelong friend?

Benedict x fem!reader (smut with plot, friends to lovers) + no use of y/n. english isn't my first language (!)

Benedict didn't know how to ask you.

You had been friends for a long time, your families were practically one. Always so united, your mamas took walks every afternoon, gossiping about the ton and your fathers had been friends since childhood. You and Benedict were bound to meet.

You and he grew up together. You were friends with his siblings, you had held sleepovers with his sisters and won cricket matches against his brothers. Lady Violet Bridgerton loved you like a daughter and your mother loved Benedict like a son.

But your friendship with him had always been special.

When you were twelve, you ran away together to camp on the riverbank, just because Benedict wanted to draw the moon reflecting in the water at night. The following year, despite the scolding you received for your river adventure, you and Benedict sneaked onto private land just to pluck a few petals from the summer sunflowers to get him the perfect shade of yellow.

You and Benedict were very close. Of course, there had always been rumors about what kind of relationship you two had and that Lady Whistledown had only added more fuel to the fire writing about you two in her pamphlets. You and him never cared about that, and neither your families but it was true that you two have had to face some uncomfortable conversations with them about it.

That's why Benedict didn't know how to ask you. You had a lot of trust in each other, you had always supported his artistic vocation but perhaps this was too much.

—Oh, thank God you've come. I am in need of a model —. It was the first thing Benedict said to you when you entered his studio. The maid closed the door behind you, leaving you alone with him. Thank goodness the Bridgertons' service was very discreet, if anyone found out that you and him were alone in a room it would cause quite a scandal.

—Good evening to you too, Benedict.

—My apologies. Good evening —. He leaned to kiss your cheek.— I need a model —. He let you know one more time.

—How have you been? Very stressed from what I can tell —. You tried to have a normal conversation with him before you paid attention to what he required.

—Indeed.

You sighed. —Well, what is it? I thought we were going for a walk.

He nodded. —We can go outside later. But I need to get this done by tomorrow and I feel like I'm losing my mind.

—And...?

—I need practice female form.

You slowly nodded. You were aware that Benedict had been recently attending this art academy, you were happy that he was finally able to pursue his passion and you couldn't deny that within the characteristic desperation of the artists, he looked very attractive. Benedict's hair was a mess, his white shirt was half-open, his sleeves were rolled up. He would never have allowed himself be seen in society like that and you were grateful because otherwise he would have all the girls after him.

—And you want me to...?

—Pose for me.

You weren't quite sure how to do it but it seemed easy and fun. All the times he had drawn you, he had done it when you were distracted, reading, having tea with his sisters... The pencil moved effortlessly across the paper when he saw you laughing with Daphne or playing with the cards that Colin had brought back from his trip to Spain. He was already too embarrassed to admit each time he drew you and Anthony teased him by saying that if he didn't propose to you, he would show you his drawings, and Benedict's heart skipped a beat because he knew that his older brother was not known for being a joker.

Benedict still didn't know how he was going to ask you, maybe it was better to just let it out.

—And what shall I do? Just stand here? Like this? —You laughed and made a dramatic pose like the ones you saw in the paintings in the gallery you visited together.

—I need you to ...

Benedict swallowed nervously. He looked down at your dress and then directly into your eyes. You raised your eyebrows, waiting for him to finish. You also looked at your dress to see if there was something wrong with it.

—Benedict I don't think I understand what you are trying to say—

—I need to practice naked female form.

Benedict immediately noticed your horrified face. He wanted to go back seconds ago when he hadn't even asked but if it wasn't you, who would it be? —I will not draw your face. No one will know it is you. It will be purely professional, I just need a few minutes.

You bit the inside of your cheeks and decided to trust him when he said that it would be for professional purposes only. The unfinished nude sketches that made your cheeks burn when you saw them as you entered his studio showed you that Benedict found no inspiration in the bodies of the academy models. After a nervous swallowing, you nodded and Benedict's face lit up. He hugged you but you didn't have time to hug him back because he quickly went to prepare the canvas.

—Is the door locked? —You asked him as you shed the little jacket that covered your shoulders along with your gloves. Benedict rushed off to lock it and before he returned to his position behind the canvas. You called his name and gulped, your hands failing in their attempts to unzip your own dress. —May I please get some help?

—Oh, yes, of course. My apologies.

Benedict stood behind you, his fingers brushing the skin on your back as he began to slowly unzip it until the dress slid down your body and fell at your feet. Benedict felt like he had to look away, as if in a few seconds you would not be completely exposed to his eyes. He offered you his hand to help you get up on a small pedestal that he had in his studio. Once you got rid of your underwear, you felt vulnerable but not as vulnerable as when Benedict ran his eyes over your body from his position and with the paintbrush already in his hand.

He let out all the air he had in his lungs, he couldn't take his eyes off you. Benedict could not deny that he had imagined it on many occasions, but reality far surpassed his imagination.

—What... What should I do, Benedict? —You hugged yourself.

—Put your arms down and stand like that. You look perfect, darling.

Your cheeks burned after that. You did as he said. His brow was slightly furrowed in concentration as his eyes went from the canvas to you and back to the canvas. Benedict asked you to turn around and he squeezed his eyes tightly after seeing your bare ass. Purely professional, this was purely professional, he had to remind himself.

Benedict grabbed a wooden chair and walked over to you. Your heart skipped a beat once he was so close to your naked body and he felt the exact same. He placed the chair next to you and invited you to sit on it. He nodded slowly when you did, focusing on the new position of your body. Benedict went back behind the canvas and made a few sketches.

He cleared his throat. —Would it be possible if you... Could you spread your legs?

Your cheeks grew hot and you squeezed your thighs together.

The knot you had in your stomach got tighter and you felt your chest rise and fall slowly thanks to your deep breathing. You straightened your back in the chair and you did as Benedict asked. You felt the air of the room caressing you in that warm and wet area and he held his breath, his chest puffing out as your legs slowly opened for him.

—You are beautiful, darling. Do not be ashamed —. Every new inch he discovered of your body made you look more perfect in his eyes. It was as nice to see you as it was to paint you.

Your cheeks grew even hotter but this time it wasn't just your cheeks, your whole body was in flames starting with the area between your legs that was so exposed to his eyes.

—Could we try another position?

You nodded, relieved, you were sure it was painfully obvious the way you had gotten wet and you just hoped he was busy enough to not notice.

He dropped the paintbrush and got up from the stool on which he was sitting. Benedict felt the knot in his stomach grow tighter with each step he took closer to your naked body. You moved in the chair out of nervousness. Benedict leaned slightly over you. —May I? —He asked before touching your leg. His voice made you shiver, he was so close, you felt his hand brush against the skin of your thigh. You nodded and looked up at him while he repositioned your leg. Benedict's eyes meet yours, so helpless, his lifelong friend, was that innocence in your eyes, or was that...?

Lust.

Your hand grabbed the back of Benedict's head and pressed his lips against yours. His eyes widened in surprise but immediately after, his hands went to cup your cheeks as he fell to his knees in front of you. You opened your legs so he could place himself between them and be closer to you. The shameless hands of your friend traveled down your neck until they reached your breasts. You moaned against his mouth once he gave them a gentle squeeze, the soft palm of his hand brushing against your nipples.

Benedict left a trail of soft kisses from your cheeks to your collarbones and your breasts. He took one in his mouth as his hand played with the other, his tongue moving in circles around your nipple and sucking on it at the same time. Your breathing quickened and your lips parted to let out soft moans when Benedict's teeth brushed your sensitive nipple.

He let go with a pop sound and watched you gasp for air. Benedict placed his hands on the inside of your thighs and caressed your skin there before he slowly pushed them to open even further. His hands prepared you for him, his eyes asked for your permission. You nodded and Benedict flashed you a smile, that was all he needed. He peppered your thighs with kisses, taking small bites and kissing your sore skin afterwards. Your breathing deepened as his mouth got closer to where you needed him the most. He was so close he could smell you and oh Lord, his dick got hard as a rock at that moment.

You took a sharp breath when he licked from your entrance to your clit and savored your juices in his mouth. The image was completely sinful, his blue eyes were locked on you while his lips sucked on your bundle of nerves, his hands forced your legs to stay open for him. Your head was thrown back, your mouth was open in a perfect "O" form, your fingers digging into his scalp. Once he noticed the desperation in the way your hips rolled against his mouth, two of his fingers entered you easily. You stifled a loud moan, throwing a hand over your mouth.

Benedict hummed, sending vibrations to your clit.

—Talk to me. How does this feel? —He required.

—So good. It feels... —You bit down your lower lip, his fingers sank deeper. —It feels like heaven.

He was satisfied with your answer.

Benedict fucked you with his fingers until you had to grab his wrist to get him to stop, it was too much. Your legs closed around his head but his lips were still attached to your clit and he didn't stop until he heard how your moans turned into whines and cries, not until he noticed how your back arched off the chair and your chest rose and fell uncontrolled thanks to your panting. Benedict didn't stop, not until he felt how your pussy was clenching so hard that almost pushed his fingers out of you and he heard you moan his name one last time as your grip on his hair tightened.

He gave you all the time you needed to catch your breath, kissing your legs and intertwining his fingers with yours while you came down from your high. Benedict's blue eyes were locked on you making every effort to later recall every single part of you.

—How are you feeling, darling? —Benedict stood on his feet and held your hands so that you would stand up as well. Before you could answer his question, you both realized how your legs were shaking and laughed. At the same time, you felt Benedict's grip on your hands grow stronger to keep you from falling.

Benedict leaned in and kissed your lips in the sweetest possible way. The tickling sensation in your body that you felt when you were naked in front of him had turned into a different kind of tickling, now focused on your stomach. It was so familiar, you had felt it so many times when you looked at him but now, with his lips on yours and his hands treating you with so much affection and care, it was different.

You could confirm that it was not only lust but also love.

You hummed against his lips. —Wait, did you finish your drawing?

Benedict shook his head. —But, please, do not worry about that. I will help you get dressed —. You frowned confused and he gave a quick kiss to your lips so, as he had told you, you would not worry. —I can finish later. There's no way I'm forgetting your body, my dear.

[taurasiluvr]

BABY IT AIN'T REALLY CHEATING IF HE DON'T SEE ── BUECKERS⁵

how you can help palestine prequel part three

★ based on dope love by gucci mane. you have an annoying boyfriend who always seems to be jealous of paige. and you've never even given him a reason to not trust you . . . of course not!

 ⠀ ── ⠀warnings ;; nsfw under the cut, mdni. smut with a little plot, cheating (on irrelevant bf), asshole!paige, fingering, exhibitionism (sorta if that's what you can even call it).

 ⠀ ── ⠀word count ;; 3.6k

 ⠀ ── ⠀rylin's notes ;; requests are open for those who want to send them in :p

"you're embarrassing me," the words came out of your mouth, your tone annoyed as you glared up at your boyfriend. you couldn't believe that he asked paige for a 1v1 – and on top of that, he lost.

now he was acting all pissy, pacing back and forth on the court with his hands on his hips. paige, your best friend since forever, stood a few feet away, trying to hide her smirk. obviously, she shouldn't be intimidated by your boyfriend, who was supposed to be confident and supportive, not a sore loser.

"maybe if you hadn't underestimated her," you continued, your voice cutting through his grumbling. "you know how good she is, she's literally d1."

paige smirked slightly as she shrugged, taking a sip out of the red solo cup. "it's just a game, guys. it's not a big deal,"

your boyfriend shot her a glare, then turned to you. "why are you taking her side?"

"cus you're acting like a damn child," you snapped back. "it's not her fault you lost."

your boyfriend’s face flushed an even deeper shade of red. he stopped pacing and turned to face you, his hands still on his hips. the music and laughter from the party around you seemed to fade into the background as his eyes searched yours for any sort of validation.

"i just... didn't think she'd take it so seriously," he mumbled, his voice lacking its usual confidence.

paige chuckled softly, shaking her head. "i didn't take it seriously, man. it's just a game," she repeated, her tone light but her eyes sparkling with a hint of amusement as she glanced at you, licking her lips slightly.

"just a game?" he repeated as he glared at the blonde. "i just got beat by a girl! i'm gonna get absolutely flamed in the groupchat,"

"hey, she's also d1! you don't even play basketball," you retorted, feeling your frustration rise. "it's not like you lost to someone off the street. paige is amazing at this."

"whatever," he muttered, looking away and crossing his arms. "still feels like shit, specially cause you're my girl and shit,"

paige raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the interaction more than she should. "dude, it's just a game. and besides, who cares what your friends think? they'll get over it."

"easy for you to say," he snapped back, his voice growing louder as he began walking toward her. "you didn't just embarrass yourself."

you stepped between them, your patience wearing thin. "enough. you're acting like a sore loser and it's not a good look."

he glared at you, the hurt evident in his eyes. "why are you always defending her? it's like you take her side over mine every fuckin' time."

"because you're acting ridiculous!" you shot back. "paige is my best friend, and you're being unfair to her and to me. this has nothing to do with sides and more to do with you and your weird competition with her."

he clenched his jaw, his eyes flicking back and forth between you and paige. "weird competition? baby, it's obvious she has a thing for you, i mean jesus-"

you immediately let out a groan. "are we really gonna talk about this now, again? i told you-"

"i don't care, she obviously does!" he finally snapped. you grabbed his arm as he continued shouting about whatever he thinks is going on between you the blonde.

paige watched as you dragged your boyfriend to the side, letting out an amused laugh as she shook her head. she went back inside to get a refill, finding aubrey and nika.

"you gotta stop playing with him," nika stifled a laugh as she glanced outside, watching you and your boyfriend laughing. "i feel bad. we all watched him get absolutely obliterated by you."

aubrey laughed, nodding. "that was so fucking embarrassing, my god. i got an ick and i don't even like him."

paige shrugged, a smirk playing on her lips. "can't help that i'm good at basketball. and it's not like i'm doing it on purpose. he's the one who keeps trying to prove himself."

nika shook her head, still grinning. "well, he's definitely not doing himself any favors."

aubrey took a sip from her cup, raising an eyebrow. "you think she's actually gonna stay with him much longer? i mean, look at them."

they all glanced outside where you were still talking animatedly with your boyfriend. his face was red with frustration, while yours was a mix of exasperation and annoyance.

paige sighed, her expression softening a bit. "nah, probably. she deserves someone who doesn't get all insecure and jealous over nothing."

aubrey and nika exchanged looks, their faces entertained. nika spoke up, "paige we're not dumb, we know you've fucked before."

paige shrugged, a smirk tugging at the corners of her lips. "yeah well... they were on break," she look a sip of her drink as she glanced up at her friends, their expressions unconvinced.

nika raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. "on a break, huh? and does he know about this?"

paige hesitated for a moment, then shook her head. "nah, he doesn't."

nika let out a low whistle. "that's risky, paige. he looks like the type to not mind... you know, beating your ass."

paige laughed as she shrugged. "yeah and he's also like, 5'8."

"if he tried, he'd get humbled," aubrey glanced toward her blonde friend, a smirk playing on her lips. "again," she added.

paige chuckled, her confidence unwavering. "exactly. i'm not too worried about him. besides, it's not like it was a regular thing. it was a one-time thing."

nika leaned back, her expression thoughtful. "still, you should be careful. if he finds out, things could get messy."

paige nodded, acknowledging the risk. "yeah, but it's done, and i can't undo it, i just have to handle things as they come."

aubrey took a sip from her drink, her eyes glinting with mischief. "you know, if you play your cards right, you might not have to worry about him for much longer."

"yeah, i know," she smirked as she glanced at you, you were still arguing with your boyfriend. "i know,"

as they continued talking, you and your boyfriend reentered the house, your faces still showing signs of the recent argument. paige watched as you tried to shake off the tension, joining your friends and attempting to immerse yourself in the party's atmosphere.

nika leaned in, whispering to paige, "think she'll be okay?"

Paige nodded, her eyes following you as you made your way to the group. "she's a big girl, i don't think she cares as much she pretends to."

you approached, giving paige a grateful smile. "hey, guys. sorry about that."

aubrey waved it off, her demeanor light and carefree. "no worries. we're just glad you're back."

nika chimed in, "yeah, we missed you. come on, let's have some fun."

you felt a wave of relief wash over you as your friends welcomed you back with open arms. paige stayed close, her presence a steady comfort. the rest of the night passed in a blur of laughter and camaraderie, the earlier tension fading into the background.

 ⠀ ── ⠀

"and he's so damn clingy, it gets on my nerves," you resisted an eyeroll as you spoke, doing your night time routine in the foggy mirror. paige stood behind you, her hands on your hips and her chin on your shoulder, watching you through the reflection.

"yeah?" she mumbled as you nodded. her hair was wet from the shower, her eyes were red from the exhaustion of the whole day but right now – she didn't feel a tinge of weariness.

you sighed, putting down your toothbrush and meeting paige's eyes in the mirror. "yeah, it’s like he always needs to know where i am, what i’m doing, who i’m with. It’s suffocating."

paige grip on your hips tightened slightly, her presence grounding you. "sounds exhausting," she murmured, her voice gentle. "you deserve to feel free, not like you’re constantly under surveillance."

you nodded, leaning back into her embrace. "exactly. and tonight... all that jealousy over a basketball game? it's just too much."

paige pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder, her breath warm against your skin. "you deserve better than that. someone who trusts you and supports you, not someone who’s always questioning you."

you turned to face her, her hands sliding around to rest on the small of your back. "i know. it’s just hard. we've been together for a while, and i don’t wanna hurt him. but i can’t keep going like this."

paige's eyes softened, her thumb brushing gently against your side as her hands slid down them. "you have to take care of yourself first. it’s not selfish to want to be happy."

you smiled as her eyes dilated, her tongue sticking out to wet her lips. "he needs to trust you, cause... you know, you are," paige's voice came out teasing.

you let out a playful scoff as you pushed her away, a smirk playing on your lips. "gonna bring that up again, p?"

"what?" she laughed as her hands made their way back to your hips. "really gonna tell that i didn't rock your world? you were crying and everything, my ego's never gonna that go."

"i know," you felt your cheeks heat up, a blush creeping up your neck. "don't need to remind me every chance you get."

paige's laughter was warm and genuine as she pulled you closer again, her forehead resting against yours. "just making sure you remember,"

you rolled your eyes, but your smile widened. "how could i forget? you never let me."

"and i never will," you turned back around, continuing your routine. "i still think about it, you know?"

paige's smirk widened as she saw the seriousness in your expression through the foggy reflection. "yeah?"

"yeah," you repeated as you met her eyes through the reflection. "all the time."

there was a moment of silence as you continued your routine, paige was lost in thought as she zoned out. "does he fuck you like i do?"

the question came out of nowhere and you almost choked on the mouthwash. you spit out and paige watched your expression carefully. the air in the bathroom seemed to thicken as you processed her words, unsure of how to respond.

paige's gaze held yours steadily, her expression unreadable yet intense. she seemed to be searching for something in your reaction, her smirk fading into a more serious demeanor.

"no, he doesn't."

paige's smirk immediately came back with the answer, her hands pulling you into her chest. "yeah, i knew that."

she didn't any more of an answer, her lips found your shoulder as she began kissing up to your neck. as her lips found the sensitive spot just below your ear, your head spun with a whirlwind of emotions. the familiarity of her touch, coupled with the depth of your connection, ignited a fire within you that burned brighter than ever before.

paige's hands roamed gently over your back, her touch leaving a trail of tingling sensations in its wake.

her breath tickled your skin as she whispered against your ear, her voice husky with desire. "gonna do you so good, baby,"

as paige’s breath sent shivers down your spine, her words were a promise, igniting a flame of anticipation within you. you turned in her embrace, your eyes meeting hers with a mix of longing and uncertainty. paige's gaze softened, her fingers trailing lightly up your arms to cup your face.

“i’ve missed you,” she murmured, her thumb brushing tenderly across your cheek.

“i’ve missed you too,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

the tension between you was palpable, the weight of unspoken feelings hanging in the air. paige leaned in, her lips capturing yours in a slow, deliberate kiss that sent a rush of warmth through your body. you melted into her, your hands finding their way to her damp hair, pulling her closer.

paige's kiss deepened, her hands sliding down your back to grip your hips, anchoring you to her. the taste of mint lingered on your lips from the mouthwash, mingling with the familiar flavor of her.

with a gentle push, paige guided you back against the sink, her lips never leaving yours. her hands explored your body with a familiarity that made your heart race, every touch a reminder of the history you shared. as her kisses trailed down your neck, you let out a soft moan, your fingers tangling in her hair.

“oh p,” you breathed, your voice a mix of need and desperation.

she paused, lifting her head to meet your gaze, her eyes dark with desire. “tell me what you want, baby.”

“want you,” you confessed, your cheeks flushing with the raw honesty of your words.

paige's lips curved into a satisfied smile, her hands slipping under your shirt to caress the bare skin of your waist. “you’re going to have me, princess.”

with a swift motion, she lifted you into her arms as she carried you to your bed. her mouth claimed yours again, the kiss hungry and demanding. your fingers fumbled with the hem of her shirt, desperate to feel more of her as she dropped you on the bed.

paige broke the kiss long enough to pull her shirt over her head, her eyes never leaving yours. her bare chest pressed against yours as she kissed you again, her hands working to slide off your shorts. you arched into her touch, the sensation of her hands on you sending waves of pleasure through your body.

as your shorts hit the floor, paige's fingers found their way to your core, teasing you through the fabric of your underwear. you gasped, your hips bucking against her hand, craving more. paige's smirk returned, her thumb circling your clit with agonizing slowness.

she pushed you further up the bed, her body following closely as she settled between your legs. paige's eyes never left yours, her gaze intense and filled with desire. her fingers continued their slow, torturous teasing, making you writhe beneath her.

“paige, please,” you begged, your voice a desperate whisper.

her smirk softened into a sweet smile, and she leaned down to press a kiss to your lips. “love hearing you beg,” she murmured against your mouth before trailing kisses down your neck, her hands slipping beneath your underwear to finally touch your bare skin.

with a gentle but firm touch, she slid your underwear down, her fingers finding their way to your wetness. you moaned, your head falling back as she began to pleasure you, her movements deliberate and skilled. paige knew exactly how to drive you insane, her fingers curling inside you in a rhythm that had you teetering on the edge.

you let out a shuddering breath, your body arching into her touch. she set a steady rhythm, her thumb circling your clit in time with the thrusts of her fingers. every stroke sent waves of pleasure crashing through you, each one more intense than the last.

your hands tangled in her hair, pulling her closer as she kissed her way down your body. her lips left a trail of fire on your skin, each touch igniting a deeper desire within you. when she reached your breasts, her mouth closed over one nipple, sucking and nibbling gently.

the dual sensations of her mouth and her fingers had you spiraling quickly towards the edge. your breaths came in short gasps, your body trembling with the effort to hold back.

then, your phone began buzzing next to you. you let out an annoyed huff – you already knew who it was. you chose to ignore it, but paige had other plans.

"answer it, princess," she mumbled as she sat up, meeting your gaze.

you stared at her, bewildered, your body still trembling from her touch. "paige," you whispered, a mix of frustration and disbelief in your voice.

paige's eyes sparkled with mischief as she leaned in, her lips brushing your ear. "answer it," she repeated, her voice low and commanding. "want him to hear how good i make you feel."

your heart raced, both from the lingering pleasure and the audacity of her request. with trembling hands, you reached for the phone, your eyes never leaving paige's. she watched you intently, her fingers still moving slowly inside you, maintaining the agonizing pleasure.

you hit the answer button, bringing the phone to your ear. "hello?" you managed to say, your voice shaky.

your boyfriend's voice came through the line, filled with concern and irritation. "where are you? why haven't you answered my texts?"

paige's smirk widened, and she pressed a kiss to your shoulder, her fingers quickening their pace slightly. you bit your lip to stifle a moan, your head falling back against the pillow.

"'m... busy," you replied, your voice strained.

"busy? doin' what?" he demanded, suspicion lacing his words.

paige’s other hand moved to tease your nipple, her thumb flicking over it with expert precision. you let out a soft gasp, unable to hold it back. "just... with friends, we're at my..." you managed to say, your breath hitching. "apartment,"

there was a pause on the other end of the line, your boyfriend clearly picking up on the unusual tone in your voice. "you okay? you sound... different."

paige's lips curled into a wicked smile, her fingers curling inside you, hitting just the right spot. you couldn't help the moan that escaped your lips, your body arching into her touch. "oh fuck," you let out before you sighed, putting a hand over your mouth.

"i'm fine," you lied, your voice trembling. "just... having a good time."

Your boyfriend’s voice grew more insistent. "where are you? i want to see you."

paige leaned closer, her breath hot against your ear as she whispered, "tell him you're with me."

you swallowed hard, trying to focus on the conversation despite the overwhelming sensations. "'m with paige," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

"paige?" he repeated, his tone a mix of confusion and frustration. "what the hell is going on?"

"nothing!" you shouted, the frustration overtaking your senses. "my god, let me fucking breathe. we're just watching a movie and we're tired, can't get a second alone,"

paige's smirk grew as she listened to your conversation, her fingers still teasing you, maintaining a torturous pace that kept you on the edge. she nibbled gently on your neck, her breath warm against your skin, and you fought to keep your voice steady.

on the other end of the line, your boyfriend’s frustration was palpable. “why didn’t you just say that? you’ve been acting so weird lately.”

You took a shaky breath, trying to focus on the words and not the intense pleasure paige was giving you. “i’m not acting weird. just need some space sometimes.”

“space? is that what you call ignoring my calls and hanging out with paige all the time?” he snapped.

paige fingers quickened slightly, pushing you closer to the edge, beginning to completely finger-fuck you. you bit your lip to stifle a moan, your hips bucking involuntarily. “’m not ignoring you,” you said through gritted teeth, trying to sound convincing. “i think i just… need a break.”

“a break?” he echoed, his voice growing louder. “what kind of break?”

paige leaned in, her voice a whisper in your ear. “tell him you’re taking a break from him.”

you swallowed hard, the words sticking in your throat. “think we need a break,” you finally said, your voice barely above a whisper.

“what?” he shouted, disbelief and anger mingling in his tone. “are you fucking serious?”

“yeah,” you said more firmly, finding your resolve.

he began shouting but you were too engulfed in her fingers, your breaths coming out in shudders. the phone fell out of your hand as you moaned, your back arching into her touch.

paige chose that moment to push you over the edge, her fingers and lips working in perfect harmony to send you spiraling into a powerful orgasm. you cried out, your body shaking with the force of it, the annoyed shouts still coming from the phone.

paige caught the phone, her eyes locking with yours as she brought it to her ear. "she busy right now," she said, her tone unapologetic and firm. "she'll call you in the morning,"

with that, she ended the call, tossing the phone aside as she gathered you in her arms. you were still trembling, your body buzzing with the aftershocks of your orgasm. paige's touch was gentle now, soothing as she held you close.

"you gonna call him in the morning?" she teased as you laid on her chest. you stifled a laugh as you shook your head.

"probably, he's probably crying right now."

she shrugged, "i would too if i lost a bad bitch like you,"

you couldn't help but smile at her words, a warmth spreading through your chest. "you're ridiculous," you murmured, nuzzling closer into her embrace.

paige's fingers traced soothing patterns on your back, her touch comforting and tender. "yeah, but you love it," she replied, her voice soft.

you sighed contentedly, letting the calm after the storm wash over you. "yeah, i do."

you stayed like that for a long time, wrapped up in each other, the rest of the world fading away. eventually, the exhaustion of the day caught up with you, and your eyes grew heavy.

"get some sleep," paige murmured, her voice a gentle lullaby. "we'll figure everything out in the morning."

you nodded sleepily, feeling safe and secure in her arms. "goodnight, p."

"goodnight, beautiful," she whispered, holding you close as you drifted off to sleep.

if you enjoyed, any interaction is greatly appreciated!

with love, rylin 𝜗𝜚

[optimist-pine]

Bodyguard

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Warnings: people are naked, but it's barely even borderline suggestive

Summary: You need a bath, but there's no way you're going alone

Era: Season 1, the Quarry

Your skin practically crawls from the buildup of dirt, sweat, and who knows what else that's managed to accumulate over the past three days. You still haven't quite adjusted to the reality of not having on-demand access to a hot shower and your scalp is all oily, and itchy, and eugh - gross. A little shiver runs down your spine at the thought - well, maybe that's just more sweat...

The bold shades of the sunset are beginning to fade as you make your way to the Dixon brothers' camp. Currently they're the closest thing you have to neighbors, your tent being between theirs and the rest of the group. You're dying for a quick dip and rinse in the pond, but you don't actually want to die for a bath, and you know it's a dumb idea to go alone. Everyone else seems busy though and you've come to the conclusion that Daryl seems to be your only option.

Most of the others actively avoid the brothers, and you can't say you blame them. Merle's constantly stirring up trouble and being a general annoyance, and Daryl's quick to jump to his defense. But, on the rare occasion when Daryl isn't being held under Merle's thumb, you catch glimpses of a very different person than what he usually puts out.

He's sitting in an old lawn chair by the side of a fire when you approach, poking a stick around in the coals. Little sparks shoot off where the fresh evening air hits them, and the smell of woodsmoke fills your lungs.

"Hey." You greet. A spot of doubt begins to arise within you, but you quickly stamp it out. With recent events you were beginning to discover that there wasn't much room left for second guessing or overthinking anymore.

"Need somethin'?" He asks, eyes flicking up to you for a moment before returning to the flames.

You hang your thumbs in your belt loops, fingers tapping against your hips. "If you're not busy, I was hoping maybe you could go down to the water with me? I'd ask someone else but they all seem rather occupied at the moment... and I don't think Shane'd let me go alone." You say.

He looks up, jaw set awfully close to a scowl. "I ain't gonna be yer damn bodyguard." He huffs.

"No- I don't want you to watch me or anything like that- I guess I'm just asking for companionship?" You reply. "You could do whatever you're gonna do here, but just do it down there?" You hike your thumb over your shoulder in the direction of the pond.

He stays silent, but a sudden chorus of laughter flows out from the direction of the rest of the group. You study the way the firelight smooths out his rough edges, and you can't help but wonder if the look in his eyes is just boredom or if it's really loneliness.

"Unless you prefer Merle's company, then by all means I'll leave ya to it." You continue, trying your best to ignore Merle sawing logs in the tent, and erase the image of his hand too close to his crotch from your mind.

He jams the stick into the dirt hard enough that it remains standing when he lets go. "A'ight. Lemme get 'mah stuff."

"Awesome, I'll be over at my tent when you're ready." You smile, pleased and a little surprised that you'd managed to get him to say yes. Admittedly, Merle wasn't so bad when he was passed out, but it was reassuring to know that you were at least preferred company over an unconscious jerk.

---

Dirt and gravel crunch under your boots as the two of you walk, your knapsack bouncing steadily against your back with each step. "Thanks for coming with me. I'm not necessarily afraid of the dark or anything, but there's a lot worse things in the woods now than just coyotes." You explain. "And it's just nice not to be alone."

He simply grunts in response.

Good thing you didn't ask him along for his conversational skills.

When you reach the edge of the water you find a rock close to the shore to set out clean clothes and a towel. You see Daryl settle down, back propped against a boulder as he starts rummaging around in his own bag. "Whatcha gonna work on?" You ask.

He pulls out a whetstone and a couple large hunting knives. "Cleanin' mah tools." He replies.

You begin to undress, but a feeling of uncertainty causes you to pause. "Man, I wish I didn't feel like he's sitting up there right now with those binoculars..."

"Who? Shane?" He asks sounding surprised.

"Yeah." You shudder. "Guy gives me the creeps."

You hear scrape of the knife grinding against the sharpener. "Well, hurry up an'ere won' be anythin' ta see." He says.

"Yeah..." You keep your eye on Daryl while you finish, but he doesn't lift his gaze even once beyond sharpening his knife. "I won't be long." You assure him as the cool water rises around you.

As soon as you're far enough in you dive forward, the rush of water instantly reviving and refreshing your whole body as it flows past. You rise upwards as giddiness fills you and you break the surface with a laugh. "This is heavenly!" You gasp. You continue diving and twirling, every sore muscle and painful bruise easing away.

You pause to catch your breath and a small splash has you immediately alert. You left your knife up on the shore with Daryl, but you hadn't heard any sounds of alarm from him so surely it's not a walker. But when you look to the shore the sight has you almost equally as shocked. Daryl is chest deep in the water - bare chested that is - ripples being sent out across the still expanse as he sinks further in.

"Hey!" You yell. "I asked you out here because I thought you weren't some sorta pervert!" You hope it's dark enough that nothing in the water is visible because he's only getting closer.

The moon is full and bright, and the way it reflects off the water makes him look almost ethereal. "Can't protect ya if I'm up'ere an' yer alla'way out 'ere." He reasons.

"I don't need protecting." You roll your eyes. "And all the weapons are up there, Dixon!" You send a splash of water directly into his face.

He returns the splash. "Looked like I was missin' out on alla fun." He shrugs. "'Sides, ya never know when somethin' might jus'-" he disappears under the surface of the water and barely a second later something wraps around your ankle, tugging you under the surface.

When you're released you bob back up to the top wanting to be stern, but you're too busy giggling and swallowing mouthfuls of water to do so. When he surfaces behind you, you turn and splash him again sputtering, "Daryl you- that's not- I can't-" and end up full on belly laughing while trying to stay afloat.

You think you catch the shadow of a smile on his lips before he turns and floats away, like he's done nothing worthy of retaliation. 'Oho boy is he gonna get it.' As quietly as possible you lower yourself in the water, and using shadows from the moonlight, you swim under his head. Reaching up with both hands you use all your strength to grab his shoulders and pull yourself above the surface while pushing him down as hard as you can. Then you make a break for it.

You hear him gasp for air, coughing and sputtering as you swim as fast as you can in the opposite direction.

"Get back 'ere, woman!" He shouts, his tone highly amused. "Yer gonna hafta pay 'fer that!"

You don't realize how loudly you're laughing until the beam of a flashlight is suddenly shining directly in your face.

"Everything alright here?" Shane questions, standing on the shore not far from your and Daryl's discarded clothes. A few of the others are with him; Dale, Andrea, T-Dog, and Morales.

Even in the chilly water you can feel your skin begin to flush all the way down your neck. "Yes! All good!" You squeak out, squinting in the harsh brightness.

"We heard yelling." Andrea chimes in.

You're confident that in all your life you've never been more embarrassed. "That was laughing, guys. I wanted a bath and I asked Daryl to be my bodyguard. We were just, uh, blowing off some steam and I guess we got a little loud... Sorry if we worried anyone." You glance at Daryl who appears to be doing his best impression of the invisible man.

You can make out Dale's hat exceptionally well even in the darkness. "Are you sure you're okay?"

Their hesitation to leave sparks frustration within you - do they really think so lowly of Daryl? Is that what this is all about? Sure, nobody really knows him all that well, but you're all practically strangers and he's done alright by you. The desire to defend him takes over and you snap at the group, "Ah, what're y'all, the fun police? Go ruin somebody else's night and leave us be."

You don't take a good breath until they're all headed back to camp, and it's once again quiet and dark. You sigh, tilting your head back to watch the stars so high above as you float. "Dead people walking around eatin' living people - ya think they'd have bigger problems to deal with than a couple'a skinny dippers." You remark.

A quick exhale of a laugh, not quite a snort, echoes across the pond. "People're always jealous of'a good time if they ain't havin' one." He says quietly.

You pull your fingers through the water, feeling the tension push against them. "So... are ya feeling jealous, or did ya have a good time?" You ask.

"S'pose it wasn't too bad." He says. "But I ain't yer damn bodyguard."

And you grin.

---

Yeah, maybe it's a little awkward getting dried off, getting dressed, and walking back to camp but you sleep more soundly than you have since you arrived. And maybe you're a little annoyed with the way everyone seems to have nothing better to do than gossip, but that new gleam in Daryl's eye when he looks at you wipes it all from your mind. And maybe a lot of things suck, but at the end of the day there's someone who actually likes you, and maybe that's enough.

[spencereidluver]

D is for Diana

august 25, 2008

summary: You overhear Spencer calling his mother and telling her about you and how he's finally found someone like him and who can understand him.

word count: 675

warnings: none, just fluff and spencer crushing

It was a normal Monday morning. The sounds of files rustling and pens against paper filled the room as people filled out their weekly paperwork. The only thing off was the slow speed the certified genius across from you was working. There was something on his mind, but from the look on his face, you could tell he wasn’t in the mood to share.

“Hey Spence, I’m gonna go make some coffee in a little bit, do you want some?” You asked, trying to find a way of cheering him up without trying to pry at him. 

“I’m good, thank you though.” He said without so much as looking up from his desk.

You let him work for a little longer, before you finally let it get the best of you, and you just had to ask him. “Okay, Spencer,” you said, finally getting him to look up at you for the first time this morning. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he responded. “I’m just waiting on a phone call from my mom.”

That made sense. Spencer always got nervous when his mother was brought up. His phone rang moments later, seemingly right on cue. “I’m gonna take this in the conference room, I’ll be back.” 

Spencer opened his phone as he stood up, greeting his mother with a warm “hello.” He quickly ran up the stairs, nearly hitting himself with the conference room door as he entered. You giggled to yourself before getting up and making your way to the kitchen to make the coffee you’d thought about earlier.

_____

With a freshly made cup of coffee in your hand, you couldn’t help but follow your unconscious lead to the conference room, leaning against the door to make sure Spencer’s conversation with his mom was going well. You weren’t trying to be weird or creepy, you just were trying to look out for your friend. You knew sometimes his mom said things that hurt him, mostly without realizing it.

As you reached the conference, you heard the squeaky giggle you’ve heard so many times come from behind the door. You almost left it at that, but curiosity got the best of you as you leaned your ear against the wooden door.

“No, mom. She’s perfect,” you heard Spencer say. “Everything about her is perfect.”

There was a pause, Diana was talking. You wondered who he was talking about. Spencer hadn’t talked to you about a special lady before. Maybe you’d stick around a little longer.

Spencer began to speak again. “No, she is the nicest person I’ve ever met. She’s gorgeous too, mom… No, I haven't asked her out… No, no she doesn’t have a boyfriend… I just don’t want to ruin our friendship. And I don’t want to make work awkward if she says no.”

Work? The girl he liked was at work? 

“I can’t just ignore her if she says no mom. Our desks are right across from each other. I’d have to face her every day.”

Oh my god. He was talking about you. Your face turned a shade of red so dark it might be classified as maroon. Your stomach had so many butterflies it felt like it was migration season. 

You heard Spencer begin to tell his mom he’d have to be going soon, and you decided you’d better hurry back to your desk so he didn’t know you were listening. He’d die if he knew, you thought.

You thought for a second, before returning to the kitchen and pouring another cup of coffee in Spencer’s favorite mug. You knew he’d said no, but you also knew, especially now, how much it’d mean to him if he came back to a warm cup of coffee on his desk. You add 5 sugar packets to the small mug, just how he liked it. 

You returned to your desk, sitting your mug on your desk and Spencer’s on his. You grabbed a sticky note and a pen and wrote: "For Spence <3,”before sticking it to the mug and returning to your seat.

_____

next chapter: E is for Even Guys Like Me?

other parts: Spencer Reid A-Z Masterlist

view the masterlist in a calendar version! 

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a/n: i'm so glad that this group of stories has been so well received :) i've worked so hard on them and am trying my best to get ahead so i can release new parts at least every other day. i love reading all the comments you guys have left too... thank you all for the support. i'm so proud of the next chapter, it's definitelymy favorite one in the series so far. it's pretty long, but in my own opinion, it's worth it. the chapters are going to start getting more relationship centered, starting next chapter!

_____

Have Recommendations? visit my recommendations page to submit your suggestion, no matter how big or small!

_____

taglist: @universallyblizzardlove @ms-ks-world @justlivinginadaydream @dij-ology

[lecsainz]

˒ ⌕ CUTE MOMENTS

summary: some cute moments if you were dating one of the characters from the riordanverse.

an: my inspiration is running low 😭

( my last work for riodanverse || go to main masterlist )

˒ ⌕ CLARISSE LA RUE

Clarisse returned to her cabin after a day of training, only to find you cozily wrapped up in her oversized hoodie. The sight made her heart skip a beat. "Hey, that's my hoodie," she grinned, a playful glint in her eyes.

You looked up, a shy smile tugging at your lips. "I hope you don't mind. It's just so comfy."

Clarisse chuckled, walking over to you. "Nah, looks better on you anyway." She slid her arms around your waist, pulling you closer. "Besides, it's not like I mind sharing with my girl."

You blushed at the affectionate words, leaning into her embrace. "You're the best, Clarisse."

"Damn right, I am," she teased, leaning down to steal a quick kiss. "But you make my hoodie look even better. Maybe I should let you borrow it more often."

˒ ⌕ PERCY JACKSON

Percy returned to his cabin, tired after a day of training and quests. As he entered, he noticed a familiar figure curled up on his bed. It took a moment for him to register, and when he did, a surprised smile crept onto his face.

"Y/N, what are you doing here?" he whispered, not wanting to wake you.

You stirred, blinking sleepily at him. "Hey, Percy. I...uh, might have dozed off waiting for you."

He chuckled, finding your presence more delightful than any surprise. "You're adorable when you're asleep, you know that?"

You blushed, sitting up and rubbing your eyes. "Sorry for intruding. I'll go back to my cabin."

Percy shook his head, moving closer. "No way. You're staying right here." He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you back onto the bed. "This is the best surprise ever. I wouldn't want to come back to an empty cabin anyway."

You snuggled into his embrace, feeling completely at ease. "I might have left a surprise for you too."

Percy raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Oh? What's that?"

With a sly smile, you pulled out a small bag of blue cookies. "Blue chocolate chip cookies. A little something I whipped up for you."

Percy's eyes lit up, and he grabbed one eagerly. "I love you, you know that?"

Your cheeks turned a deeper shade of red, and Percy's laughter filled the room. He placed a gentle kiss on your blushing cheek.

"I love your cookies and you," he teased, his expression softening. "I mean it, Y/N."

Your heart fluttered at his words, and you replied with a shy smile, "I love you too, Percy."

˒ ⌕ LEO VALDEZ

Leo couldn't help but grin as you fussed over a small scrape on his arm, your eyes filled with concern.

"Hey, Sunshine, what's with the worried face?" he asked, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

You sighed, "Leo, you need to take better care of yourself. You're always getting hurt."

"Ah, it's just a little scratch. I'm practically fireproof, babe," he teased.

You rolled your eyes, but your concern persisted. "Seriously, Leo, let me help. I don't want you getting hurt all the time."

Leo's expression softened as he looked into your eyes. "Alright, alright, Nurse Y/N, do your thing."

As you rummaged through a first aid kit, Leo couldn't help but admire how adorable you looked, completely absorbed in caring for him. The thought crossed his mind – he was the luckiest demigod in camp.

When you returned with antiseptic and a bandage, Leo flashed a sly smile. "Does this mean I get a kiss for being a good patient?"

You blushed, trying to hide a smile, and replied, "Leo Valdez, you're impossible."

He winked, "But you love it."

˒ ⌕ LUKE CASTELLAN

As moonlight spilled across the camp, you emerged from your cabin, a sheepish expression on your face. Luke, who was sitting by the fire, noticed your arrival.

"Hey, couldn't sleep again?" he asked, sensing your restlessness.

You nodded, a slight blush coloring your cheeks. "Yeah, I thought... maybe I could sleep with you tonight? If that's okay."

Luke's eyes lit up, and he patted the space beside him. "Of course, come here."

You settled beside him, feeling the warmth of the fire and the comforting presence of Luke. As you nestled into his side, he wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close.

"Much better?" Luke inquired, his voice filled with tenderness.

You nodded, appreciating the security of his embrace. "Thanks for always being here, Luke."

He smiled down at you, planting a gentle kiss on your forehead. "Anytime, sweetheart. I love having you in my arms."

˒ ⌕ ANNABETH CHASE

You were quietly sketching in your notebook, capturing the essence of Annabeth's features with each stroke of your pencil. Lost in the moment, you didn't notice her approaching until she peeked over your shoulder.

"You drawing something interesting?" Annabeth inquired, a hint of curiosity in her eyes.

You looked up, a mischievous smile playing on your lips. "Maybe," you replied cryptically, revealing the sketch of Annabeth you had been working on.

Annabeth's eyes widened as she saw herself on paper. "You... you drew me?" she asked, a hint of surprise and shyness in her voice.

You looked up, a warm smile on your face. "Guilty as charged. Couldn't resist capturing your beauty on paper."

She blushed, clearly not accustomed to being the subject of someone's artistic attention. "I didn't know you could draw so well."

Leaning in, you pressed a gentle kiss to her cheek. "There's a lot you don't know about me, Wise Girl."

Her blush deepened, but she couldn't hide the small smile that played on her lips. "Well, keep drawing, then," she said, feigning nonchalance.

˒ ⌕ JASON GRACE

You sat in front of your vanity, engrossed in the process of applying makeup. The soft hum of a song played in the background as you carefully blended shades on your eyelids. Unbeknownst to you, Jason lay comfortably on your bed, observing your every move.

"Wow, you really know what you're doing with that stuff," he remarked, a lighthearted smile playing on his lips.

You turned to see him lounging there, a teasing glint in his eyes. "I'm just experimenting. What do you think?"

Jason propped himself up on his elbows. "You don't need any of that to look amazing, you know?"

You felt a blush creep up on your cheeks at his sweet comment. "You're biased."

He chuckled, getting up and walking over to you. "Maybe a little, but you're beautiful with or without makeup."

With a gentle touch, he brushed a strand of hair behind your ear. The sincerity in his eyes made your heart flutter. "I'm the luckiest guy to have you," he whispered, leaning in for a soft kiss that lingered, leaving you with a warm and fuzzy feeling.

[hairmetal666]

Never in a million years did Steve Harrington think he'd be standing in the drama club room in front of Eddie the Freak--who's sitting on a goddamn throne with his full lips pulled into a smug grin--asking to be taught how to play Dorks and Goblins. Yet, here he is, face a burning shade of crimson, as he explains for the sixth time what, exactly, he needs.

"Munson, it's not that hard. Henderson wants me to play in the--the game thingy they're doing when Will is home for a visit."

"Yeah, Harrington, and I stop listening every time you call it a game thingy. You obviously don't care about this at all, so why should I waste my time helping you?"

Steve rolls his eyes. "What if I pay you?"

Munson's face goes through a complicated series of changes before falling into a neutral mask, no smirk or teasing smile to be found. "You'll pay me to teach you dnd? Are you fucking kidding?"

"No?' Steve draws a hand through his hair, watches as Munson's dark eyes track the movement. "I thought you might help me out cause those kids never shut-up about you, but I'm willing to put money on it."

"Huh," Eddie says. He steeples his fingers under his chin. "Maybe I misjudged you, Harrington."

Steve lets himself smile at this. "I don't think you did. I don't give a shit about this game."

"Didn't take you for one to have a bunch of nerdy child friends."

"I'm their babysitter," he says, realizes immediately it was a mistake.

Eddie cackles until it turns into a full-bodied laugh, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes. "You are something else, Harrington," he manages.

For his part, Steve hopes Munson hasn't noticed how bright red his face is. "Does that mean you'll help me?"

"I guess," he rolls his eyes. "But if you're just screwing around, I'm out."

"No, yeah, totally," Steve nods too hard, sends his hair cascading into his face. "Sounds good. How much?"

"Huh?" Eddie tilts his face up, giving Steve a perfect view of the smattering of faint freckles across the bridge of his nose.

"I said I'd pay you. What's the going rate for dnd lessons?"

"Oh, nah, free of charge, Harrington. Henderson would eat me alive if he knew I made you pay."

The smile they share is soft, tentative, and Steve doesn't notice the swathes of pink decorating Eddie's pale cheekbones.

---

They meet up in the drama room after the last bell. Eddie is waiting on the throne with his feet propped on the table, sipping a Mt. Dew. His eyes widen when Steve walks into the room.

"You're on time," he says.

Steve scoffs. "Why wouldn't I be?"

Eddie shrugs, sets his feet on the floor. "Just wasn't aware that the King put a lot of stock in punctuality."

"C'mon, man, I'm trying not to be that guy, and I'm definitely not king of anything. Unless maybe it's Family Video, but even then, that's Robin."

"You're kind of weird, Harrington, you know that?" Eddie's dimples bracket his smile. The sight does weird things in Steve's chest.

"I've been told, yeah." Steve smiles back. "Where do we start?"

They start with dice, with a character sheet.

"Chaotic-good human Paladin?" Eddie asks.

He shrugs. "That's what Dustin keeps screaming at me. I got no idea what any of it means."

"That's not entirely true," Eddie says. "You've kept up with me so far."

"Yeah, that's you. Dustin rambles and then accuses me of not listening when it's over my head. When he goes on long enough, I start to get a headache right here," Steve rubs the spot between his eyes.

"That kid," Eddie says with the right combination of affection and frustration. "I don't know, you seem to have picked up on some of the stuff he said. You have a solid idea on gameplay, at least. I'd say you're doing pretty good."

"Thanks," Steve laughs. "No migraine yet, so that's a point in your favor."

"Migraines?"

"Head trauma."

"Byers?"

"And Hargrove."

"That was Hargrove?" Eddie asks.

"Hit me in the head with a plate."

"What the fuck."

"He was pissed that Max was friends with Lucas. He came after them. I couldn't just let him--I think he would've killed Lucas."

Eddie nods, hands fiddling with a die. "No wonder those kids love you," he says.

"We've been through some shit together."

"Guess it makes more sense why you wanted to learn dnd."

"As much as it pains me to admit," Steve rolls his eyes. "I love to make those little shitheads happy."

"Well, based on the way they talk about you, you succeed."

"You too, you know?" Steve offers. "All I've heard about the last three months is 'Eddie's so cool,' 'Hellfire's so fun.'"

"Jealous?" Eddie laughs.

"Completely," Steve admits.

"Don't worry, Harrington, I'll make a nerd out of you yet."

---

They meetup after school every day they can over the next two weeks. At first, Steve is surprised that he doesn't really mind spending so much time with Munson, that he actually, kind of, has fun. And the more time they spend together, the more Eddie infiltrates his space. Leans into Steve's side as they sit next to each other, brushes their hands together, hovers over his shoulder, faces nearly touching, as he checks stuff on Steve's character sheet.

It makes Steve feel--well, it makes him think of what it would be like to run his fingers through the soft gloss of Eddie's curls; wonders what that plump mouth would be like pressed against his own; can't stop thinking about if Eddie is as vocal in bed as he is everywhere else. He knows he also likes guys, has for a while, but he's never in his life wanted someone this viscerally; so much he can feel the ache of it in his teeth.

It's the last day before the campaign for Will, and Steve is fucking sad. He thinks maybe Eddie is too. He's at least quieter than normal, explanations not at their usual fever pitch. An hour before they usually call it quits, he claps his hands together (too gently, too unlike himself), says, "That's it, Harrington. You're not going to be more ready than this."

"Right," Steve says. Can't help his eyes from darting over Eddie's face, aching to know what he's thinking. "You'll be there tomorrow?"

Eddie bends his head over his notebooks. "Nah, I don't need to intrude."

"But--"

"It's okay, Stevie. I get that it's family only." He looks like he really means it, but his eyes are sad, don't shine like they should.

Steve doesn't know what to say to that, just nods, and then there's nothing else. They stare at each other for a few very long, quiet seconds, before Eddie says, "I'll see you around, Harrington."

"Right, yeah. You too." And he walks out of the drama room with the heaviest heart he thinks he's ever had.

---

Steve thinks he won't miss Eddie. That if he doesn't dwell on those hours spent with Eddie, learning dnd, that the missing will go away.

It doesn't.

Which is how he finds himself back at the high school on Wednesday, standing in front of the drama room door, willing himself to go inside. Eddie's on the throne, the typical notebooks and binders and Mt. Dew cans clustered around him, but he's not engrossed in imagining up a new campaign for Hellfire. No, his head is in his hands, knees drawn up to his chest.

"Eddie?" Steve asks.

His head pops up, and even in the low light, Steve notices the silvery tracks of tears down his cheeks.

"Steve! What are you--" he hastily wipes at his face with his shirt sleeve. "What are you doing here?"

Steve's acting only on instinct, crossing the room and dropping to his knees, taking Eddie's jaw between his palms, thumbing away the wetness on his cheeks.

"Did someone hurt you?" he asks.

Eddie's laugh is wet. "Nah, Harrington. I only have myself to blame for this one."

"Can I do anything?"

"Are you trying to kill me?"

"Sorry?"

"You, Steve Harrington, kind and compassionate? Learn dnd to make your little nerd friends happy? Who are you?"

"I'm just me, man," Steve blushes. "But, uh, I came to thank you." He's still holding Eddie's face in his hands, can't help but notice the way he flushes, how his dark eyes dart away from Steve's.

"I really liked hanging out with you," Steve says. This close to Eddie, his mind doesn't quite feel like his own. All he can think of is big eyes, soft curls, full lips.

"Yo--you did?"

"So much," Steve whispers. He doesn't quite remember moving, but now their foreheads are pressed together, warm breath mingling, lips almost, almost touching.

"I liked it too," Eddie breathes. After a few seconds, he laughs. "Knew I'd make a nerd out of you, Harrington."

"Shut-up," Steve laughs.

"Make me," Eddie says, and it's just that easy. Steve crosses the space still separating them, presses his mouth against Eddie's.

The kiss is slow, exploratory, the gentle discovery of how they fit together, the promise of all the things they can do in the future, all the pleasure they can bring.

"I'm not a nerd," Steve says when they part.

"No, you're right. You're like a nerd by marriage. Nerd-in-law," Eddie giggles. His eyes are bright, face pink, the most beautiful thing Steve has ever seen.

"Shut-up," Steve giggles right back.

Eddie raises an eyebrow, the dare obvious, and Steve doesn't hesitate to kiss him again.

"You wanna get out of here?" Steve asks when they part, significantly more breathless, jeans significantly tighter, than when he arrived.

"You're gonna have to role persuasion for that, Stevie," Eddie smirks.

[uhohdad]

Okay so I'm a complete SUCKER for sub!könig but we know he's a big brash military man capable of great violence but also. I wanna tear him down and build him back up. Brattame him. Gotta let steam off somehow right?

Could you do something with femdom!reader who gets könig as a client wanting to let some steam off from work and give up control for a moment and just fucking. edging and overstimming the fuck out of him. him crying from pain and pleasure. he realizes he likes being degraded... oh geez is it hot in here or-

(18+) Sub!König x FemDom!Reader

König’s leg is bouncing furiously, his knuckles white as he digs his fingernails into the arms of your lounge chair. Maybe this is one of those things that’s better in theory than it is in reality. The thought seemed… enticing, but sitting here, now, waiting for his dominatrix, his stomach is turning and his mouth is dry. He can’t help but feel embarrassed, stupid even, for being desperate enough to come here.

He’s just about to bail when he hears the commanding click of heels across tile.

König’s heart pounds in his chest, breaths thick and weighted as he struggles to work air into his lungs. He has to pinch his eyes shut, shoulders tensed in a brace as you enter.

The click of your heels still, and a few tense moments pass before König hesitantly opens his eyes, his lips pulled back in unease.

At the sight of you, standing in the doorway with your arms crossed under your chest, he chokes, his breaths ceasing.

He’s not sure where to look as you study him from top to bottom with strict eyes. Just sitting before you is putting a shake in his fingers.

You give a hum at whatever conclusion you’ve drawn in your head, and König opens his mouth to say something, anything, but nothing comes out of his stuttering lips.

Your heels click over to him, each slow, agonizing step making his heart pump a little faster.

The room is unbearably silent once you’ve settled between his legs, staring down at him in his seat. He feels like he’s in trouble, like he’s sitting in the principal’s office about to get his scolding. He can’t even look at you, fixated on his lap and fidgeting with his fingers.

You hum, your voice low and as smooth as honey, each word spoken slowly.

“Such a big, strong man like you. I’m sure there’s a lot of pressure that comes along with that. Is that right?”

König swallows, his eyes darting around. He still can’t look at you. He tries to work up the courage to respond, but can’t find the ability to speak, so he just nods, gnawing on his lower lip.

“I’m sure there are lots of people who depend on you. Is it a heavy weight you carry on those strong shoulders?”

König’s gaze moves to the floor, and he gives a sheepish nod. His cheeks are flushed a glowing pink, an arm slung across his chest and rubbing out his opposing bicep.

A curled finger gently presses under his chin, guiding his head up. Those pretty blue eyes meet yours, wide and nervous. Your voice is strict, but gentle, that of a teacher’s when she corrects a child’s wrongdoing.

“When I ask you a question, you say - ‘Yes, Miss,’ or ‘No, Miss.’ Do you understand?”

He swallows again, his irises flicking back and forth as his gaze switches between your eyes. He nods quickly, his eyes closing as he tries to get his thoughts straight.

His voice is barely audible, words poured quickly and soaked in embarrassment, cheeks staining a shade deeper.

“Yes, Miss.”

And of course, his cock is straining against the front of his pants, his hands resting in front of himself to try and hide it from you.

“Very good,” You say.

You bend at the core, your hand grabbing the back of his chair, your pretty face inches from him, relishing in how he curls in on in himself, how his shoulders raise, how he can’t make eye contact.

“Being so powerful,” You start, your voice just a sultry whisper, “It’s a lot of responsibility, isn’t it?”

He nods, having to work up the courage to speak again.

“Yes, Miss.”

Your finger finds his jaw, to tilt his head back into position. He obediently meets your eyes.

“You want me to take over that responsibility for a little while?”

König sucks in a sharp breath, his eyes darting around your face. You’re so confident, so forward, domineering and irresistible - König can’t even think straight, his mind blank and jaw slack as he searches for his voice. When he finds it, it’s weak and stitched with a needy groan.

“Yes, Miss.”

You offer a pleased hum, studying him for a moment. You stand tall before you gracefully climb on top of him, kneeling with your legs cushioned on either side on his thighs. Slowly, you lean in, listening to the sound of his heavy breaths as he shivers beneath you. His stubble pokes and scratches your skin when you give him a gentle, lingering kiss on his cheek before pressing your cheek to his. Your voice just a breathy, deep whisper in his ear.

“Have you been a good boy, baby? Or does someone need to be punished?”

Every muscle in his body tenses, and a stuttered choke catches in the back of his throat.

König can’t seem to find his words, short circuiting beneath you as you give another slow kiss on the side of his face.

You give a low hum, lips back in his ear.

“Do you need Miss to decide, baby boy?”

König gives a shaky nod. When you pull away, those pretty blue eyes are staring up at you so innocently, eagerly.

“I asked you a question,” You scold.

König’s eyes widen as he scrambles to appease you.

“Yes, Miss,” He blurts, a frantic nod accompanying.

You give a smug grin and another low hum. Your hands find tense, shaking biceps, palms sliding down the length of his strong arms. A soothing touch, slowing when you get to his wrists.

“You are a good boy, aren’t you?”

König is stunned, locked onto you, and is none the wiser when you slap a pair of heavy duty handcuffs around his wrists.

He sucks in a breath through his teeth, looking down at his restrained hands and giving a tug to the chain connecting each cuff. When he meets your stare again, his pretty blue eyes are wide and pooled with fear.

You give a two-note laugh behind a grin.

“If you want me to take control, I can’t have you able to overpower me, can I?”

He shakes his head slowly.

“No, Miss.”

Before he knows it, König’s on the bed, stripped of his clothes and back flush with the covers, his handcuffs attached to the headboard and ankles secured tightly to the bed. His cock is stiff and swollen, flush against his stomach and leaking precum all over himself. He’s buried his face into the pillows, eyes pinched shut and whines flowing freely as you deny him the orgasm he’s been circling for hours.

“Bitte, Miss, I need it, please, please, I’ve been so good.”

König has entirely unraveled underneath you, what remains of him wrapped around your finger.

You trace a light, leisurely fingertip from the base of his cock to the tip.

“I thought that was for me to decide.”

König lets out a truly pathetic whine, the metal of his cuffs clinking as he pulls on his restraints. When you wrap your hand around the base of his cock, his entire body tenses, a huff escaping him.

You torture him with slow, teasing glides up the shaft of his aching cock, trailing your thumb around the rim of his tip with each pump. Needy whimpers leave König as his hips rut into your touch.

“Please, Please Miss.”

“Please what?”

“Bitte, Miss, Please let me come.”

You give a soft laugh, offering him a bit of relief by speeding up your glides around his cock.

König’s eyes lull before pinching shut, embarrassing, sniveling moans leaving him, his body shaking in response to your touch.

It doesn’t take long for him to reach the edge again, his muscles steadily tensing and his grip on his restraints tightening.

“Bitte, Miss, please.”

He finishes on a whine, tears welling in his eyeline, his breaths sniveled and shaky.

“Mm,” You hum, “I’ll think about it.”

He lets out a sob, closing his eyes tight and sending tears streaming down his temples.

Your hands leave his cock to find his firm chest when you move to straddle him, and König lets out another whine at the absence of your touch. You take his cock again, guiding his tip through your slick arousal, listening to König trip over his own breaths.

“Feel so good, Miss. Please, Miss.”

“That’s a good boy. Tell me how much you need it.”

König whines again, tugging on his restraints as he grinds against you.

“F- Please, Miss, I need it so bad, I need you, I can’t- hn-”

König can hardly think straight, intoxicated off your power and desperate for release.

You line him up with your dripping cunt, and can’t help but lull your head as you stretch around such a thick cock.

König immediately begins to thrust his hips into you, and your hands shoot out to his sides to still him.

“If you move your hips, you’ll have to wait another round,” You warn.

“Please, I’m sorry Miss, I’ll be so good, please.”

“Good boy.”

You sink onto him carefully, swallowing his throbbing cock at a teasingly slow pace.

His moans are strained, muscles tight and trembling as he resists the urge to fuck you with everything he has.

“So tight, Miss, feels so good.”

“Mm,” You hum, a slow pace as you move up and down on his cock, swallowing a little more of him on each descent.

“Please, Miss, please.”

You’ve barely warmed up to him, but he’s already circling his orgasm, overwhelmed by the stimulation of your tight, warm cunt around him and long since aching for finish.

“Please, Miss!” He cries, more tears streaming down his face, his restraints taut with each tug against them.

When your bounces on his cock pick up speed, König’s face pinches, a pathetic moan behind the lip caught between his teeth.

“Come.”

At once, every muscle in his body contracts, eyes rolling, choking on a cry. He convulses underneath you as you work every drop of his pent-up finish from him, entirely succumb to your wet, tight cunt. When his breaths return, they’re heaving and stuttered, his cock pulsing inside you with each beat of his heart.

“Thank your Miss for letting you come.”

“Thank you, Miss, thank you.”

♡ KÖNIG DRABBLE MASTERLIST ♡

[steddie-island]

Broken

Written for day one of @steddie-week | Prompt: Secret relationship Rating: T | WC: 1,757 | Tags: Hurt/ Comfort, secret relationship, (referenced) canon-typical violence, coming out, slightly altered timeline ao3 | divider credit

No one was answering the phone at the Harrington house. There were no cars were in the driveway. There was a light on in the pool house, but Eddie knew that Steve left everything by the pool lit up as much as he could, though Steve had never explained why, and Eddie hadn't asked.

Eddie was starting to panic. No, that wasn't right, because he'd passed starting to the second day Steve hadn't shown up at school.

By day three, the radio silence had him chain smoking as he drove around town, looking for any sign that Steve still existed.

The fucked up thing was that Eddie wasn't supposed to notice. He wasn't supposed to care whether recently dethroned King Steve was okay, or whether he'd fucked off out of town. They weren't supposed to know each other beyond picnic table transactions while Hagan tried to get Eddie to give him a discount.

No one knew about the detentions they shared. They didn't know about Steve pulling up beside him when his car wouldn't start, didn't know about the hour they'd spent together figuring out what the fuck was going on. Or about the Saturday Steve volunteered to help him actually fix it.

They didn't know about the lunches spent in the back of Eddie's van, about the nights they watched the stars together through the open back doors.

They didn't know how soft Steve's voice had been when he'd whispered Eddie's name before they'd shared their first, and then their second, kiss.

Now the beautiful boy he cared about had fucking disappeared, without a goddamn trace, and Eddie was losing his mind.

One more sweep. One more sweep, and then I'm going to the police. Not like they hadn't ran into each other plenty, only maybe this time Eddie wouldn't end up in handcuffs.

The sound he let out at seeing Steve's car in the driveway was between a laugh and a sob. He barely had time to park the car before he was tripping over his feet all the way to the door.

"Steve! Steve, let me in!" His palm pounded on the door, and he knew Steve would yell at him for not even trying to be discreet when he'd warned about nosy neighbors more than once. "Ste—" The door opened, and Eddie stopped in his tracks. 

Steve's face was swollen and turning several varying shades of yellow and green, purple and red. Eddie's stomach dropped.

He'd expected a lot of things, was ready to be angry for being ignored for three whole days. There was anger, but it wasn't directed at Steve.

"Fuck. Fuck, sweetheart." Eddie slipped inside, closed the door, took Steve's face carefully into his hands. "Who did this to you?"

Steve winced as Eddie's thumb brushed against a fading bruise on his jaw. "This is really not a good time," he murmured. He meant to pull away, but he couldn't. Not now that Eddie was here, holding him, tugging him closer and tucking Steve so carefully against his chest. "Are you okay?" Eddie whispered. "I've been so worried, tried calling but no one answered…" "I've been staying with the Hendersons," Steve murmured. "Dustin's mom is a nurse, she was taking care of me. I haven't been home long." He turned his head to kiss Eddie's palm. "You should go, I'm okay now. I'm—" "I'm not leaving you." Eddie tipped Steve's head up and hissed softly at the discoloration on Steve's eye, where the white wasn't so white anymore. "Who did this, Stevie?" "Eddie, stop. Doesn't matter, it's been handled. It's fine. I'm fine. I don't have a concussion anymore. Claudia wouldn't let me leave until she was sure of that. I just need to sleep some more." Steve folded his fingers around Eddie's. "Go home. I'll call you in a couple of days." "No." Eddie pulled Steve in with an arm around his waist. "You're hurt, I'm not leaving you." He oh so carefully pressed their foreheads together before kissing the good corner of Steve's mouth. "I'm not going anywhere." "Dingus, you said it would be a second, but it's been— what the fuck—" Eddie looked up, his eyes wide. A girl Eddie had seen around school stood in the entryway to the living room with her arms over her chest. Her face was red, her mouth an open o of surprise.

Oh.

Oh.

Eddie's heart sank. This thing couldn't have lasted, he should have known that. Steve had someone else here, someone else taking care of him, why would Steve have called when he wasn't needed? When he wasn't wanted?

Before Eddie could drop his hands from Steve's face, though, Steve was gripping his wrists. "Eddie, wait, it's not like that. Robin's—" "Oh my god!" The girl— Robin— had both hands in her hair. "Steven, if you were not coming off of the assbeating of a lifetime I would give you another one. You made fun of my crush, but you didn't tell me you're screwing around with Eddie fucking Munson?"

The pink that flooded into Steve's face added to the rainbow painting the rest of his skin already. "God, you're as loud as Henderson." He shook his head, hissed when that made the world spin, then caught Eddie's fingers instead of his wrist. "Guess the cat's outta the bag." "Don't you mean you're out of the closet?" Eddie joked. He was staring at Robin, who didn't look pissed, or disgusted, or jealous.

Okay, maybe she was pissed, but not because he'd been kissing Steve.

"Is this why you kept asking for the phone?" Robin demanded. Even with sounding annoyed there was still a softness in the way Robin spoke to Steve as she adjusted the couch pillows for him. Eddie guided Steve directly to the spot Robin had made for him before sitting pressed tight against his side. There was a bag of frozen vegetables on the coffee table that Robin picked up and pressed into Steve's hand, meaning for him to cover his face again.

"I couldn't out Eddie to you," Steve pointed out. "But… yeah." He looked at Eddie. "I'm really sorry, but… I couldn't remember your phone number?"

"Concussions do that." Robin folded herself on Steve's other side and pressed the bag of vegetables into his hand, clearly ordering him to put them back on his face. "And this isn't his first one. I'm Robin, by the way. Buckley. I'm in band."

"Munson. I'm in a band." Eddie scratched lightly through Steve's hair, as if searching for any other places he was hurt that all that hair was hiding. "What the fuck happened?"

"Nothing," Steve said at the same time as Robin said, "Billy."

"Billy." Eddie looked at Steve and felt his stomach twist. "Fucking Hargrove did this to you?"

"Eddie, it doesn't matter," Steve said. He could feel an Eddie rant coming on— or worse, he knew Eddie, knew he didn't like fighting but he would fight for the people he loved. And he couldn't let Eddie get hurt on his behalf. "It's been taken care of."

"Taken care of. By the sheriff?" Eddie demanded. He looked at Robin, clearly expecting for her to answer as the person who didn't have the concussion.

"Max almost took out the Hargrove family line with Steve's bat," Robin said. At Eddie's confusion she made a swinging motion that landed between her own knees.

"Max is his little sister," Steve explained. "She stole my car, too."

"Hey, she did a better job than I would have," Robin pointed out.

Eddie shook his head— none of this made a damn bit of sense. "Why was Max driving your car?"

"Because I was in the backseat with Steve, trying to make sure he didn't die," Robin explained. She winced and reached out to take Steve's hand. "Billy broke a plate over his head."

"Jesus Christ." Eddie pulled Steve closer, kissed his temple gently. "How the fuck are you alive right now?"

"Spite?" Steve joked weakly.

"It was bad," Robin murmured. "Like… really bad. I didn't think Steve was going to wake up, and when he did wake up he kept getting sick…" She turned slightly green at the memory. "Claudia— Mrs. Henderson— she barely let him leave the bed for two days. He refused to get a CAT scan, but he listened to that much, at least. Stubborn asshole."

"Wouldn't have helped." Steve rested his head against Eddie's shoulder and closed his eyes. "We knew what happened, and we could guess how bad it was."

"Stubborn asshole," Robin said, waving at Steve with one hand while looking at Eddie as if to ask what to do with him.

"Claudia says you're okay?" Eddie asked.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine." Steve looked up at him with his one good eye. "I just… have to be really careful. No more concussions or I might not be so fine next time."

Once again Robin held on to his hand tightly, like they were anchoring each other together, keeping the Billy Hargroves of the world away by pure force of will.

"How long has this been going on?" Robin asked suddenly. "The two of you I mean."

"Few months," Eddie said, like he didn't have the date circled on his calendar, like he wasn't ready to get it tattooed over his heart.

Robin lightly punched Steve's thigh. "You could've told me," she said. "You can tell the rest of your kids, too, you know. They love you, too."

Steve smiled softly. "Maybe I wasn't ready before," he said. "But after seeing Red go after Billy… there's nothing those little shits can't handle."

"I need to know what happened," Eddie said. "There's still so much that isn't adding up."

Steve winced as he sat back up. "It is a… really, really long story. And it's not a pretty one. I'll tell you, but… maybe later? For now, can we just put on a movie and… and you two hold me?"

"Whatever you need," Robin said without any hesitation. She jumped up to grab the remote and to push the table closer to the couch.

"You'll tell me later?" Eddie asked.

"Promise." Steve kissed Eddie's cheek gently, then snuggled to him so Robin could take her place, too.

Anyone who looked at Steve could figure out this was a sad story, an angry story. It was a fucking horror story.

As the opening credits of Grease started playing, Eddie promised himself that he was going to make damn sure Steve got a happy ending out of it.

[komelrebi-san]

gojo satoru is such a dilf, oh lord

oh no, i'm so whipped for this guy i think i might be mentally insane because how does he have the ability to make me so delusional can someone get me a gojo where can i get a gojo

tw: MDNI!, age gap, single-handsome-neighbour trope, gojo is a rich single dad and his daughter is so damn cute, dom! gojo, fingering, slight choking, drinking, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap kiddos!!), size kink, tummy bulge, daddy+mommy dynamics, oral f! receiving, praise kink, semi-public sex (idk if it counts??), lmk if there's more!

don't like, don't read.

a/n: oops, sorry this was accidentally a bit longer than i thought it would be lmfao. pls comment/dm if you want this to be made into a full oneshot!

you, fresh out of college and just landed a well-paying job, managed to afford a house in a newly built expensive condominium. the apartment next door was uninhabited, as far as you knew. though, you were told otherwise when a little girl tugged on your hand as you walked by the playground in your condo, saying that she didn't know where her daddy was.

perhaps, for a second, you'd cursed to yourself at how careless and heartless the parent must be to have neglected their own child, especially a child as cute as this one! her hair was white as snow, shining gently in the sun; her eyes were a sharp blue, twinkling cheekily as she tugged on your fingers with her small hands. feeling yourself completely beaten by her puppy eyes, you decide to stay with her until her father arrives.

and oh, goodness, to think that all negative thoughts you had about the parent would completely disappear at one glance.

because fuck, he's gorgeous, he's the prettiest man you've ever met. and conveniently, his daughter happened to be the spitting image of him.

but wait, he lives next door! he just moved in.

at first, he was just a friend - a soft-hearted man who looks way too young to be in his early thirties: the kind that always called you over to hangout when his daughter comes because he knew you adored her chubby cheeks and grabby hands; the kind that always offered to help you with work and groceries and whatever that needed fixing in your house; the kind that always cooks for you or buys an extra serving of food on his way home from work.

but somewhere along the lines of knowing him, something sparked between the both of you (and it may or may not have been first planted in both of your minds by his fatally cute daughter, when she asked if 'the pretty lady next door will be moving in').

but it probably started on the night when he put his daughter to bed slightly later than usual, and invited you over for a drink.

there's nothing wrong with that...right?

wrong!

maybe it was the alcohol in your system, maybe it was the yearning for affection, maybe it was the ache for a proper relationship. but you'd told him what happened when he asked why your hand kept going to your neck when there's nothing there.

cheeks flushed, you'd told him how your ex cheated on you with one of your closest friends from highschool. and somehow you can't stop reaching for the necklace that you used to never take off, the one he gave you for your one-year anniversary.

and sometime after that, it led to you sitting in gojo's lap, lips against his with his large hands dangerously low on your hips. sure, it felt wrong because he already has a daughter whom you can't adore more than you already do, it felt wrong because he was like, what, 10 years older than you? and it also felt wrong because you're sure you shouldn't be kissing him when his daughter is sleeping peacefully in her bedroom just down the corridor.

but hell, it felt good too. because god, you swear this man is so damn fine - his eyes in the prettiest shade of blue possible, his soft white hair, his tall lean figure that he hasn't failed to maintain despite being a single dad in his early thirties, his large hands and, oh goodness, his voice. you're positive that you probably almost died on the spot when you saw him in a suit, veiny hands reaching to tug his tie loose with an almost wolfish grin on his lips as he said hi too you.

so, in conclusion, he's the biggest dilf you've ever met and goddamn there would never be a smash or pass judgement for him, because he is and always will be smash.

(oh, and there was this once he got grumpy and pouty because of his friend that came over...what was his name again? geto, was it? anyway, geto was really nice towards you, but gojo got pissed about it. but then again, gojo looks really cute when he's angry.)

and so, it happened.

---

dilf! gojo that never fails to give you the sweetest compliments and cutest pet names that leaves you blushing profusely. oh, he's such a menace, he thinks that you're so cute when you blush so he just ends up teasing you all the time. it's never 'y/n', it's always gotta be 'sweetheart' or 'honey' or 'cutie', or at the very very least 'n/n-chan'.

dilf! gojo that thinks it feels so natural to call you and his daughter 'his girls', curtsy of that one time when you dozed off with his daughter on your lap as you babysat her. 'my little girls look so adorable,' he'd say, sitting next to you while swinging an arm around your shoulders and pulling you into him.

dilf! gojo that is simply casually affectionate towards those close to him, and it multiplied when it came to you, it just felt so natural. forehead kisses, head pats, hair ruffles (oh god, his big hands, sheesh). it felt right to sling an arm around your shoulder or around your waist.

dilf! gojo that loves hugging you - it's not even that sexual, he just loves having you close to him, feeling your warmth and your sweet scent envelope him, feeling your body right up against his. he thinks that you fit perfectly in his arms (bonus! if you're short, bc he likes to prop his chin on your head).

dilf! gojo that insists you call him 'satoru'.

dilf! gojo that just simply can't stop thinking about you after that kiss, because holy fuck your lips taste so good, felt so soft against his. you looked so small and delicate in his lap, he thinks he can't possibly forget about the sight. you look so pretty when you're blushing and tugging him in for another kiss, wait no, you look so pretty all the time.

dilf! gojo who doesn't fail to notice how you got upset when he asked you to babysit his daughter as he'd be away for the night on a date. oh, the pout you tried to hide. of course he noticed it, because he knew that you want him, and fuck, he wants you too. so bad. so, so bad (but still, you looked so terribly cute as you fixed his tie for him).

dilf! gojo that came back as early as possible, heart almost jumping out of his chest when he realised you'd already put his daughter to bed. oh, you looked so beautiful as you waited for him to come back, sat on the couch with a book in your delicate hands. and he wanted, no, needed to explain to you that you're all he wants, who the fuck cares about that girl he was set up with?

dilf! gojo that just simply couldn't hold himself back as he saw your lips part in shock at his explanation as to why the date was so boring. of course it was boring, she isn't you, and she will never be you. why would i be looking for someone else when i've got my beautiful girls waiting at home for me? he'd say. and it's true.

dilf! gojo that just climbed on top of you and smashed his lips into yours. holy shit, it felt so good, it's just like what he'd been chasing after since that drunken kiss with you on his lap.

dilf! gojo that is so intoxicated by your taste, your scent, everything about you. one his hands cupped your face, the other traced up your thighs. though, he doesn't forget to ask for your permission, a smile curving onto his lips when your hips buck up into his hand, a breathy whimper of 'yes, please' falling from your lips.

dilf! gojo that is so obsessed with the way your juices taste. just from licking his fingers, he was tempted into licking a long stripe along your folds, groaning when quiet whines and whimpers bubble up your throat. if he had the patience, he'd eat you out for hours...but not today, because his cock was so hard that it practically hurts, begging to be released from its restraints.

dilf! gojo that swore if he was any less of a man, he'd have cummed immediately as he slowly pushed his big cock inside you, groaning when you clamped down on him. ah, but you can't be too loud, because you'd wake his daughter. so he settled on wrapping a large hand around your throat, squeezing just so very slightly, his touch gentle but dominating.

dilf! gojo that possibly just got harder upon seeing your small figure beneath him, back arching up and head thrown back. there was a bulge in your tummy. fuck, you're taking me so good, sweetheart. such a good girl for me, oh shit. he'd say, lips on your neck, his other hand gripping your waist.

dilf! gojo that rutted into you harder and faster when he heard you call him daddy. fuck, everything that left your lips always sound so pretty. yeah? you want me to make you a mommy? fill your cute little pussy to the brim with my seed? yeah? you gonna be a good girl and take all my cum? you want me to breed you, yeah? he'd pant, moving his away from your throat to knead one of your tits, crushing your lips with his to muffle your moans.

dilf! gojo that came inside you with a groan, painting your insides white with his thick sticky seed, reaching for that spot deep inside your pussy that made you see stars.

dilf! gojo that thinks you look so pretty, fucked out and panting, tongue lolling out of your mouth and cunt clamping down on his dick like a vice, both your juices spilling out of you.

dilf! gojo is serious about wanting you and wanting to be with you.

[chucky-vs-the-giant-tortoise]

tangled

JJ Maybank x toddler!sister!reader

(REQUEST): thinking of baby sister maybank maybe being 1-2 and jj is really struggling with her hair, and he wants her hair out of her face but doesn’t know what to do. so sarah and kie step in

warning(s): N/A

a/n: thank you for the request, m'love. if i'm being honest i may rewrite this in the future because i have unfortunately had very little motivation to write this week. :( but even still i hope that you enjoy.

also, to everyone who has written me a request, i promise i'm working on them! they should all hopefully be finished by this week or the next.

“Ow!�� Y/N squeaked, her plump digits failing to swat away JJ’s hands.

Her elder brother huffed, struggling to tame the toddler’s head of unruly curls. It was hard enough to pull all of the odds and ends of her hair into a ponytail far too small for his large fingers–let alone when she was intervening in the already troublesome process. 

“I know, I know,” JJ said, instinctively jutting out one of his hands to keep a wriggling Y/N from jumping out of his lap. He just barely managed to foil yet another one of her escape attempts. “You’ve just gotta sit still for a minute, peanut. Almost done.”

Y/N continued to whine, squinting against the harsh sun whilst JJ fiddled around with an elastic band in several failed attempts to create a functioning ponytail. The task only got harder as time trekked on—Y/N was antsy to join Kie and Sarah up at the bow of the HMS Pogue, and the more she tried to squirm her way to freedom, the worse JJ’s makeshift ponytails became.

“Jesus, dude. What the Hell are you doin’ to our mini Pogue, huh?” John B teased from the helm after several minutes of Y/N’s aggravated complaints, tonguing his cheek in amusement.

JJ had managed to get a good chunk of Y/N’s hair held sturdily away from her face, but several of her thick curls still fell like a veil over her large blue eyes. 

“Don’t listen to him, Jay. You’re a pro,” Pope laughed from behind him. JJ glared from behind the lenses of his shades.

“Ha-ha-fucking-ha. You ever tried to do this shit, man? It’s harder than it looks.”

The girls laughed as they caught a glimpse of JJ’s masterpiece. Y/N pouted, blonde curls spilling over her chubby face. “Need some help over there, Jay?” Kiara finally asked, taking pity on JJ who now wore a nearly identical pout to his baby sister. 

The boy sighed, running a hand through his own hair. “Please.” He scooped up his sister and carefully set her down on her unstable feet. “She’s all yours.”

Y/N, content with her newfound freedom, barrelled over to where her favourite Pogues had been sitting all afternoon: lounging around as they tanned and took swigs from their respective beers. Sarah laughed as the young girl fell onto her legs, wasting no time in sitting the little firecracker between herself and Kie.

“Wow,” Sarah said, observing the elder Maybank’s work up close. It was worse than she thought. “JJ really did a number on you, huh?”

“Jay bad at hair!” Y/N accused, brows furrowed in annoyance as she pointed a crude finger at her big brother. JJ rolled his eyes.

“Did better than you could've, peanut.” Y/N stuck out her tongue in response, and the girls chuckled as JJ reciprocated her gesture.

“Don’t worry, Y/N/N. We’ll take care of it,” Kie said, carefully undoing JJ’s handiwork without so much of a wince from the toddler. Sarah dipped into her bag to find a hairbrush and the few extra elastics she always kept on hand. “Gonna make you look so pretty, bub.”

“Promise?” The little girl beamed up at her, and Kie lightly pinched at her cheek.

“Promise.”

It took an embarrassingly short period of time for Kie and Sarah to get Y/N’s hair in order, brushing it into two braided pigtails on either side of her small head. The smile never left Y/N’s face as they worked, efficient and gentle in their process—the complete opposite to JJ’s hectic routine.

“Alrighty,” Sarah declared as she manoeuvred the final hairband, twisting the elastic a few extra times around the toddler’s braid to keep it in place. “You’re all done, Y/N!”

“I look pretty?” Y/N asked, eyes shining with anticipation. Kiara tucked a stray curl behind her ear.

“The prettiest.”

Y/N wasted no time in toddling back over to where JJ was now busy talking to the other two boys, her cheeks dimpled with pride.  “Jay!” She cheered, bouncing with excitement. The blond looked down at her, a grin breaking out over his face as he caught sight of his baby sister’s new hairdo. “Pretty?”

JJ chuckled, lifting her back into his lap and pressing a sloppy kiss to her nose.

“Beautiful as ever, munchkin.” Y/N wrapped her small arms around his bronzed shoulders, and JJ gave another quick kiss to her temple. “What’d’ya say we get Kie and Sarah to do your hair all the time now, huh?”

He barely had enough time to complete his sentence as an empty beer can came flying at his shoulder, thrown by a now smirking Kiara.

“You wish, Maybank!”

[luveline]

Hey Jade! I was wondering if you could do some Derek Morgan comfort?! Maybe reader who deals with headaches/migraines?

Hope you're having a nice day/night!!💛

thanks lovely, you too!

You're pinching the bridge of your nose pointlessly when Derek and Spencer arrive that morning. 

“D'you guys do a coffee run?” you ask, surprised to see them come in at the same time. 

“We did!” Spencer says, putting a paper cup down in front of you. “I got you a donut, too.” 

“Thanks, honey,” you say, rubbing the hot spot between your brows to no results. Spencer smiles, pleased, and sits at his desk with the bag of donuts to start a napkin dissemination. 

You wrap your hand around the coffee and let it warm your fingers. 

“You okay?” Derek asks. His brows are pinched upwards at the starts but otherwise furrowed. “You don't look happy.” 

“I have a headache,” you admit. Talking is twice as hard with the pain pulsing behind your eyes; you slur. 

“What?” 

What does he mean, what? You look up from the desk in confusion, but he isn't confused like you, he's borderline upset. “It's not that bad,” you say. 

“It looks pretty bad where I'm standing.” 

Derek grabs the back of your chair and turns you toward him, his expression a mirror of your own discontent. He's wearing a short-sleeved shirt that in any other circumstance would draw your attention, and the badge clipped to his shirt is wonky. 

You're in pain, but you like him. You care about him in the weird way that makes you want to make him breakfast and tie his shoelaces. He is not a man that needs coddling, but you can't restrain yourself, reaching for his pocket to right his badge. 

He laughs quietly. “You're squinting.” 

“Pain's in my eyes.” 

“Sweetheart.” He takes your face in one hand and turns it down, away from the harsh office lights. “You're impossible to understand.” 

You laugh but wince when a flame of pain sparks anew. “I think it's travelling. It's in my brain.” 

“That's your second best feature.” 

“Don't make me laugh,” you plead. 

Morgan gives your cheek a rub with his thumb before pulling away. He takes the few steps to his desk and opens the drawer, pulling out a familiar pair of sleek black Ray-ban shades. “Here. Try these on for size,” he says, opening the arms wide. 

You close your eyes, but there's no need. Derek's extremely careful pushing them over your ears and up your nose. 

“Too sunny in here?” Blake asks, bemused as she skirts past with her mug of tea, her baby bump nudging the back of your chair. 

“Poor girl's not feeling good,” Derek answers for you. 

“Poor girl thought you felt sorry for her,” you say, staring at him through the grey lense of his shades. They're immediately helpful. You won't tell him that, though. 

“I pity anybody stupid enough to feel sorry for you, sweetheart.” He hesitates for no more than a second, dropping his hand onto the stretch of your shoulder blade gently. “You take anything for it? Aspirin?” 

“I did,” —your voice wobbles of its own accord, the instability that comes with a pain that has no clear end in sight— “but it hasn't kicked in yet.” 

He rubs your back, pressing his cheek briefly to your forehead in a side-armed hug. “Let me get you a glass of water.” 

“Morgan?” you ask, catching his arm. He waits. “Kiss it better?” 

You say it because you know he'll crack a smile. It's not nice seeing him so worried, and your headache genuinely feels a little better when he laughs. “Don't start with me. I'll do it. You know I will, beautiful.” 

You sink back into your seat and push his sunglasses up. “I'll be here.” 

He leaves to get you a glass of water. While you're waiting, Spencer passes you your donut, which you pick apart and chew on feebly. Distracted, a warm, chaste kiss is pressed to your cheek as a familiar hand places a glass of water in front of you. 

Derek wiggles his eyebrows at you, asking, “Better?” 

“I'm telling Penelope.” You wince as you turn on your monitor. “In a bit. Just as soon as this screen gets less bright.” 

[violestars]

𝙡𝙚𝙩 𝙝𝙞𝙢 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙠 𝙄 𝙣𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙙 𝙝𝙞𝙢

𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: Sunday x male reader

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮: childhood friends to best friends to nothing au, where rejecting your confession is worth more than the pain of infecting your perfect image with his sinful existence.

𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚: not proof read, !!only male readers!!

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: yandere-ish?,maybe ooc, mention of religion, implied homophobia, angst no comfort, just depressing.

𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙨: part 1, part 2

Your childhood friend is a rather confusing fellow, to the point where one would think his significant other, if he ever has one, is the type to do riddles for fun. You also love riddles but moreover, you love him. Can anyone blame you? You were consumed by these feelings in your undeveloped mind. Seven was the age you fell for Sunday, for the charming boy that is your childhood friend. Maybe it was just some puppy love between two foolish kids but no one can explain the bubbling excitement in your stomach whenever a barely visible pout was drawn on his face, whenever he uses sugar coated words to kindly ask others to leave you two alone or how his clinginess to you was shown so slyly. You were an equal to Sunday and it has left a sweet taste on your tongue till this day.

As you grow older, your mind started to question this fondness for him. You were taught love doesn't need any explanation but you aren't dumb, there are always reasons behind everything. Even the unknown comfort, warmness one could find in another is also a reason. You knew that because you have experienced it with Sunday but that wasn't your concern, for now at least. Deep down you knew this love for the other male wasn't merely a mystery, your relationship did not belong in those cheap romcoms you two would binge on a sunday night. Was it more evident on the day you went crying to him about your religious mother? Was it because of the warm hands that traced your cheeks, causing you to lean into such softness as he teased you with a coo? How you wished he could repeat his supposedly sin against his perfectionist family's belief was the attraction to the same gender, how the boyish smirk once he admitted how good rebellion feels.

School isn't your strongest suit and you beat yourself up for that, it also didn't help knowing your insecurity enabled the hatred from others. From family to friends, even strangers, their greatest gift to you was just pitiful stares. Sunday was different though, the soft smile that never fails to comfort you, the warm embrace of the only friend you can lean on, he was truly a breath of fresh air throughout suffocating days of school. The only subject you were good at is literature but the skills you've gained failed to form a clear answer to why your best friend has never doubted you. Asking him yourself only made the progress more complicated for both your mind and heart, as he flicked your head and told you about how much he worried more about your efforts than some silly printed texts.

“Your mind is built from poetry, not numbers, my little train-wreck.” You remembered his soothing voice right beside your ear, ignoring his ways with words and how it shaded your tear-stained canvas a light red, you let out a weak chuckle to lighten the mood.

“And yours is built of riddles. I'm not stable enough to solve one right now, Sun.” Your lighthearted response only brought him to laughter, a smile now placed onto your face as you silently hoped he would drop whatever sentimental words he just thought of since it was already as awkward as it could be. Who in their right mind would ask their best friend to climb through the bedroom window just because regrets were hitting too hard at 3 am? The guy has a controlling family for god's sake.

“You let people treat you so poorly just because of a subject, or it is everything about you throws them off. Why, though? You might think you're weird but I feel like you're just performing. A spectacular show that doesn't meet its audience, so desperately wants to be heard.”

As you thought you couldn’t drown yourself in thoughts of him further, this only deepened it. How you wondered if he actually has a third eye, silently guilding your thoughts to their respective docks. In your mind, he is the epitome of elegance, sometimes you wonder if the word is made specifically for him. Sunday is just perfect, while in one way he was expected to be due to being the adopted son of such a high status family, you felt like he doesn't even have to try. He handled stressful situations with ease, he joked it's you who taught him so with your antics. You two are the polar opposite, yet it felt like two puzzle pieces finding each other, different notes that falls in tune. You wondered how he tolerated everything throughout the years, not that you were complaining, it was just your anxiety often questions the authenticity of this friendship but as his hand cradled your face, the usual smile reserved for only you entered the view, you knew the dreams about him were real because Sunday adores you.

Unfortunately, your dreams crashed. You mentally cursed him for ruining everything, but it was not his fault he couldn't reciprocate those feelings, it was not his fault he is destined for greatness and you are the loser that existed. You knew you were being petty but it hurt how everything turned out to be a cacophony in disguise, how you two favored the full moon that night like the way you favored each other. Well, the way you favored him. Sunday wouldn't know all these shameful thoughts, you only nodded at his kind refusal with choked breaths after all. His frown only deepened once he noticed how tears sharp as the finest blade threatened to fall from your eyes and slice through his heart, but he didn't say anything. It hurts that your feelings were treated like a slipped word, a dumb accident, by both you and mostly him.

He knew you're worried, he was trained to be attentive to every change to his surroundings yet here he was, hands in a tight grip like how his thoughts were tied together in a messy knot. Sunday has been avoiding you, not right after the night of your confession though, he wasn't that cruel but he was evil enough to do it after reassuring you, hoping you would not throw away such unshakable friendship. Reason was, Sunday didn't know why he couldn't accept your love, he should have trust in every card he played, that was what they taught him.

It just tasted bitter. He isn't a saint, he hoped you also knew that, his mouth is filled with lies and his existence needs to be soaked in soap. In other words, Sunday is a freak of nature. Him and his sister were adopted to a rich family after the passing of their parents. Sadly enough, he still felt like nobody's son, his every step reminds him of walking on fragile ice under the threatening gaze of his so-called guardians but he still walks anyways. His sister, Robin, has her own dreams to fulfill and no one will dared to rewritte her role into another plaything for the Gods. That's why Sunday will carry all the burdens, the responsibility that will never be put onto Robin's freely spread wings and he works hard to keep it that way.

Sunday lived in this facade that is made of others' desires, he was a trapped bird that pretends to be an eagle, he felt like the strongest piece but never the mastermind. Unlike him, his darling was the salvation humanity carved for all their miserable life, you were the living proof that the lord heard his songs. You slowly metamorphosed into his only God though, Sunday believed his schemes were always concealed because he worshiped you. Sunday believed you didn't exist because he was only worthy of your afterimage. You were and are his 'father', his entire universe. He shamefully found himself praying to your name against the family's knowledge, images of your beauty embroidered in his mind rather than any flight of fancy.

But how Sunday loathed himself, how pitiful is he if everyone were starting to lead their own life yet he was still following a script, how unfortunate is he if the boy of his dreams felt like the vast sky from his cage. Why does one feel deep disgust within but still mindlessly follows the same path? He wanted to fly upward, to feel your touch but the sky is unreachable and so is you. Sunday knows his love for you like the back of his hand, it's more than the platonic feeling towards his sister and the ambition towards a perfect future, it's the only thing the family didn't plant into his mind at such a young age. His love for you felt like the only thing he could freely express.

You knew he wished to live in a dreamscape, where he would generate happiness for the unfortunates but you don't know this dreamland of his sprouted from the purest of love for you. Those troublesome worries won't reach you there, he swore upon his life that he would shield you away from this brutal world in your new home. You only laughed at his silly delusion though, you never wanted to live in a lie and he knew that clearly. Sunday envied that part of you, he detested how strong you are despite all attempts to drag you down but maybe that's what confirmed his feelings towards you.

You were able to confuse Sunday in the best way possible. You could sob about how ugly you are, complain about your failure of a life and hatred for reality but in the end, you didn't mean it. You wanted to live for the imperfect tomorrow, you wanted to erode a stone that is your destiny with him, with Sunday. Yes, that's what you are. So imperfectly beautiful as he's perfectly fake. That's why he would push you away, as unreasonable as his actions were, he will not taint your future and dirty your determination, this kaleidoscoping pain shall never reach your ears. Sunday doesn't want anyone to find out you're his weakness, he doesn't want to acknowledge you're the sweet reality to his pained dream. He was happily in your shadow even if he could catch a glimpse of your performance.

Sunday loves you so he will let you go.

© art by @/Ceoretkr on twt

[peachsayshi]

I have an a request!!! What about boy dad gojo taking care of his son while his s/o is sick? Maybe he takes him to work and face time her with his son when he has a break or between classes?? And his son misses her a lot cause it’s his first time seeing her sick🥹

➳  minors / ageless / blank blogs dni   ➳  tags: fluff; dad gojo and son reader

"mama! wanna talk to mama!"

"easy, tiger," satoru consoles, using his long arm to pull the phone away from his son's grabbing fingers.

"dada, wanna talk to mama!" his son insists, inching his body forward which prompts satoru to adjust his legs so his boy doesn't climb off his thighs. using his other hand, the sorcerer lightly runs his fingers through his child's soft locks to calm down his excitement while and in the meantime taps away at the screen to video call you.

"there you go," he whispers as he brings the phone to his son's line of sight, his heart swelling when you finally answer the call.

"hi," you croak softly, your voice thick and hoarse while you rub your tired eyes. "what time is it?"

"it's lunch-"

"mama!" your son interrupts, his small hands curling over satoru's fingers as he holds both sides of the screen. "mama, miss you!"

"hey, cutie", you reply with a tiny smile, but satoru can see the exhaustion weighing heavy on your face. "miss you soo much,"

you've been sick for the last four days. a terrible cold that's kept you bedridden. satoru and your son have been isolating to make sure that they don't catch what you have, but your boys have been wallowing without you around. your son has been extra needy and keeps bringing up his "mama" every chance he can get. satoru is in the same position as well, hating that he can't cuddle up to you in the middle of the night, or that he can't wake up to your good morning kisses.

"mama sick," your son says with a furrow of his brows, moving his hand over the screen like he's trying to touch your face. "mama get better ok?"

he's still learning his words, trying to form whatever sentences he can with the vocabulary that he has.

you nod your head, "yeah, baby, I'll be better soon,"

your son smiles at the camera, his eyes twinkling with delight. "kisses!" he announces, before leaning forward and pressing his lips onto the phone screen.

you blow him back three kisses in return.

at this point satoru can't help but feel a little left out, so he arches forward to rest his chin on his son's shoulder, the two of them now centering the screen.

it's wild seeing them both together because they really do look like twins. your son's hair stands as a harsh contrast because it is identical to yours, but his eyes are a blend of your love. there's an icy blue that pierces through his natural color on the left side, a unique trait that distinguishes him entirely.

"can I get some kisses too?" satoru pouts at the camera, and your son obliges but placing one kiss on his cheek.

satoru can't help but grin, "thanks, rugrat, but I was hoping the kisses would come from your mama..."

"but mama sick," your son answers nonchalantly, twisting his body slightly so he was turning toward's his father's instead.

"she just blew you some kisses," he answers back with a raised brow. "I can't get any?"

your son blatantly shakes his head no.

satoru deadpans at the phone screen, and you have to use the blanket to cover your amused grin but you clear your throat as a cough escapes you, and satoru can't help but wince.

"how are you feeling? is the medicine helping at all?" he adds.

"yeah, it is. I'm feeling much better today actually."

"there's a pot of soup in the fridge " he continues, his cheeks tinting a slight shade of pink. "I made it last night"

satoru toiling away in the kitchen is a rare sight. the man grew up spoiled, and rarely ever had to take care of himself. you're the only person who knows that the first time he ever touched a stove was in his late teens, with shoko and suguru assisting in teaching him. he doesn't experiment much, but he was able to perfect a handful of recipes over time.

your eyes widen, glisten with absolute love. "thanks, handsome. I'll be sure to heat some up..."

"just want to see you back on your feet, angel," satoru murmurs, and presses his cheek against' the plush surface of his son's. "you've got us pining over here, isn't that right?"

your son nods his head, bringing one hand to hold his father's jaw. "sick bad, want mama t'get better now..." he acknowledges.

(meanwhile, you sneakily take a screenshot of the two of them in frame)

requests are open for dad gojo.

[mismatched-sockss]

Kiss it better

» Pairing: Emily Prentiss x fem!BAU!Reader » Wordcount: 2,4k » Warnings: hurt/comfort, established relationship, non-sexual nudeness and touching (except for maybe a short allusion but emily turns reader down), reader has female anatomy (breasts are mentioned), mentions of unsub beating up reader and the resulting injuries, reader takes unspecified pain medication, pet names (honey, my love, baby) » A/N: no detailed body description --- pls take a look here for more info about my reader descriptions in general

⚶ masterlist ⚶

You tried to muffle the pained groan when you leaned into the shower to turn the water on, so Emily wouldn't hear. You didn't want her to worry her again. Still, not even five seconds later she slithered into the bathroom, almost slipping on the floor with her socked feet as she ran to the door.

"What are you doing?", she asked warily, her brows furrowed as she watched you like a hawk.

"Taking a shower?" You slowly turned to her and simultaneously started to unbutton your shirt. Your knuckles ached slightly from the movement, but the pain was not bad enough that you would have to stop.

"Yes, I can see that. Why are you doing it alone?"

"Because I'm a grown woman and can tak- ow!" Pain shot through your whole upper body when you shrugged the shirt off and moved your arm wrong. You tried to breathe through the pain and shot Emily a thankful smile when she helped you to fully remove your shirt.

She gasped when she saw the full extent of your injuries when she turned back to you after she threw your shirt into the laundry basket. She had been busy dealing with the Unsub and the local police earlier when the EMTs checked you, so she only knew what happend from what you told the team. This was the first time she saw the result of what the man had done to you.

Hotch had sent you to interview a potential witness, but when you knocked on the door the guy freaked when he saw your credentials. You fought with him but he got a couple of good kicks in once he had you on the floor.

Luckily you only had a couple of small wounds were the skin on your knuckles had split from the punches you were able to land, a cracked rib or two and a slight concussion. The big bruise that covered your right side looked really bad; it reached over half your stomach and your ribs up to your shoulder blade, shining in an angry mixture of different shades of red and purple.

As long as you moved with caution the pain was manageable so far and the bruises looked a lot worse than your injuries actually were. You could only imagine how bad it must look to Emily right now.

"Oh honey", she breathed out as she stepped closer. She reached out for you, her fingertips just barely touching the skin of your shoulder as she traced them along the bruise. Even though the bathroom had gotten warmer as it slowly filled with the steam from the hot water, her touch send a shiver down your spine and goosebumps started rising on your skin. "I'm so sorry. I should have gone with you."

You smiled at her as you took her hand between yours. "It's not your fault, okay?" You squeezed her hand and started to draw soothing circles on her skin with your thumb. "We had no way of knowing that Keller was the Unsub, when I left to interview him. And I was the one who insisted I would be fine on my own. Also, you already were halfway to the M.E.s office by then, so you wouldn't have been there either way."

"Still. Reid could have gone to talk to the M.E. alone. Then I could have gone with you." Emily raised her other hand to your cheek and softly stroked her thumb over your cheekbone. "I don't like seeing you hurt."

"I know, baby. But I'm okay." You crooked your head to the side as you leaned into her palm and rolled your eyes as you corrected yourself, because physically you were far from okay. "Okay, more like I'll live."

"You better...", she pouted.

You laughed and after she joined in, a sign that the tension was slowly leaving her, you leaned in to close the space between you both and kissed her.

Emily smiled when you parted and nodded her head to the running shower. "Let's get you cleaned up." She helped you to take off the rest of your clothes and then took off her own so she could join you in the shower. She insisted to do all the work and ordered you to "just stand there and look pretty."

The both of your stepped inside the shower stall and a deep sigh left your lips when the warm water hit your skin, immediately relaxing your tense muscles. The water pressure was light enough that it didn't hurt when it landed on your skin.

Emily reached behind you to grab one of the bottles and signaled you to turn around and face away from her, before she flipped the lid and squeezed some of the flowery smelling stuff into her hand. You closed your eyes when she started to shampoo your hair, her fingers gently massaging your head. She giggled when you hummed. “Feels good?”, she asked. You just hummed again and let your head fall back. When she was done with the shampoo, she unhooked the shower head and rinsed your hair out, then she worked some of the conditioner in as well. Every step - shampoo, rinse, conditioner, rinse - she softly massaged your scalp.

She proceeded to lather her hands up with shower gel. While she was doing so she planted a small kiss onto your right shoulder, right above the edge of your bruise. Emily's hands glided over your skin, washing your arms and your back, and she made sure to move over your injuries as softly as she could so she wouldn't hurt you.

By the time she made you turn back around, her touch had done much more to you than just washing your body. With a new portion of shower gel she started on your collar bones and worked her way down, over your breasts and stomach.

Your breathing quickened and you put your left hand on her waist to pull her closer. You tried to kiss her, but Emily turned her face away and chuckled. “Nope.”

“Mean”, you said and pouted. She kissed your nose before she bend down to wash your legs.

"I'm not being mean, but you are hurt. You'll have to wait until you're better, my love." She looked up at you and the sight alone - Emily on her knees in front of you and the way she was looking into your eyes, paired with her hands on your thighs - almost drove you insane. Like you said. Mean.

You groaned and rolled your eyes playfully. "Why do you have to be so responsible?"

"Because I love you and because I'm your boss."

"Just because you've been in the BAU longer than me, doesn't make you my boss”, you laughed.

Emily shrugged, a wide smile on her lips. "Tomato, tomahto. It's pretty much the same thing."

After the both of you were done in the bathroom - freshly showered, bodies lotioned and dressed in comfortable clothes - Emily gave you some pain killers and sat you down on the couch so she could apply new bandages on your hand.

“It's really not that bad”, you said. She held your right hand in both of hers, examining your knuckles - split skin accompanied with light red bruises that were already turning purple.

She shook her head. “It's bad enough. Just let me do this, please?” Emily didn't wait for your answer, didn't even look up at you, before she dabbed some disinfectant on your knuckles; then she wrapped the new bandage around your hand.

“Okay”, you breathed out, giving in. You could tell she still blamed herself that you got hurt, heard it in the way her voice had cracked just now. If dressing your wounds and tending to your every needs would help that she felt better about it, you'd let her.

You didn't blame her. Or even Hotch. The only person at fault was Keller. But you knew, that if the roles were reversed and Emily would have gotten injured in the field while you weren't around, you would blame yourself as well. Probably even if you would have been around.

So you let her do her thing. You let her fix you something to eat, let her wrap you up in a cozy blanket and let her brush your hair. You would lie if you would say, that you didn't like it.

It was still early enough in the evening that you had time to cuddle up on the couch with each other and watch TV while sharing a tub of ice cream. Emily had you sitting between her legs, your back to her chest, so she could hold you without you having to lie on your side. One of her hands had found its way back into your hair, her fingers playing with your hair and untangling the knots that were back in your hair after she had brushed it earlier.

You had stopped paying attention to the TV a long time ago, fully focusing and enjoying her touch. From time to time you felt her planting a quick kiss here and there - the side of your head, your neck, your shoulder.

Slowly but surely it lulled you to sleep, you eyelids getting heavier by the minute. You adjusted your position, turning your head to the side to lean your forehead against her neck. Just when you were about to drift off, your hand slit off Emily's thigh and it collided with the empty ice cream container next to you. You jumped, not because it hurt your hand but because it had startled you in your half conscious state. Immediately after you doubled over in pain; which you regretted the second you did it as it only made it worse.

“Woah, hey, hey.” Emily grabbed your shoulders to hold you steady.

Tears shot into your eyes and you whimpered. It felt like your whole right side was on fire. Now with the sudden movement and since you had rested for a while, your more than sore muscles ached even more than they had before.

A sob fought its way out of your throat and before you knew it, you were full on crying. The crying didn't make it better: your head started to pound again, your side got worse as your body shook with every sob and when you started to hyperventilate your ribs violently protested against having to hold your lungs in.

Emily held you against her, making sure to not hurt you any further of course, and brushed the hair from your forehead. She stroked your hair as she was trying to calm you and she whispered “Shhh, it's okay... It's okay. Just breath.” into your ear over and over again. It hurt her, that she couldn't do anything to help you, to ease your pain. To take the pain away.

It took a while for you to calm down, until your breath evened out and your sobs stopped, only soft whimpers leaving your lips now. Emily asked you if she could get you anything and when you asked for painkillers, she sighed and kissed the side of your head. “It's too early to take another dose. I'm sorry, baby. We-”

“I don't care”, you cried. “Please...”

For a short moment she fought with herself. She wanted to help you, but you only had taken the last pill about two hours ago; the prescription said to wait at least four hours between doses. But with one look into your eyes, she dismissed all caution and nodded. If it only had been 30 minutes, it would have been a different kind of story. And not keeping to the advised time frame one time, shouldn't hurt.

“Okay”, Emily breathed out and carefully got up to get the medication and a glass of water. When she came back, she took a seat next to you and placed the pill in your hand. You took it and after drinking some of the water you gave her the glass back. “Thank you.”

“Of course”, she said and placed the glass down. “Why don't we get you into bed, huh?”

You just nodded. All you wanted to do right now was sleep. You were so tired. From the day, from the crying, from the pain.

“Do you want to go now, or do you want to wait a moment for the medication to work?”, she asked and brushed a strand of hair behind your ear. God, you hoped the pain killers would work their magic quickly.

“Now please”, you said in a low voice.

Emily took your hand and helped you stand up, walking you slowly over to your shared bedroom. You stopped at your side of the bed, waited for her to pull back the blanket and then carefully laid down with her help.

“I'll be right back”, she told you, once you were all set. While she was gone, you closed your eyes and hoped, that your pain would stop soon. It had dulled a bit by now and lying down had helped your body relax. Right now, your headache was hurting the most in your body. Luckily it had stopped pounding in the rhythm of your heartbeat, but there was still a constant, sharp pain that felt like your head was about to split open.

You laid your wrist over your eyes - the bandage felt both soft and rough on your skin – and you kept it there, not moving it even when a soft clink on your nightstand indicated Emily's return; presumably with a fresh glass of water. You could hear her walking around the room and shutting off the big room light before she climbed into bed.

She softly touched your wrist and moved it away from your face so she could hold your hand in both of hers in between your bodies. “Are you feeling better yet?”

You turned your head to look at her, watching her pull your hand closer to her face and planting the softest kisses on your bandaged knuckles, one by one. You smiled at her. “A bit, meds are slowly kicking in, I think.”

“Good”, Emily said as she smiled back at you from behind your hand. “I'm glad. Try to get some sleep.” She sat up slightly and supported her weight on her elbow so she could lean down. First, she kissed your lips, then she planted a kiss on your cheek and one on your eyebrow.

“Good night.”

“Good night.”