#if it's not on here. i didn't watch it or didn't care

[miange1]

THANOS

male reader, thanos being pushy, bathroom sex, i'm a heavy believer thanos loves rough sex, aphrodisiacs, reader pretends he feels nothing for thanos, reader is a Korean speaker yet race is not mentioned, italics means switching to english, homesickness, anal fingering, being forced to stay quiet, thanos has a big dick and you cant prove me wrong, im 100% sure he's experienced in every kind of sex possible, brian moser typa freak, reader isn't a virgin he just hasn't had say gex

"Ah! You're alive!" He smiled, coming to hug you tight in his arms. He took small note of how you looked at him, how happy he was even after many people had died, there was no reason to be happy.

Yet to him, there was. He was seeing you, and he was head over heels just for you. He would pull multiple things just to make sure you wouldn't be hurt in the slightest, whether it meant keeping you close to him, or having others die just to keep you by his side.

Scoffing, you shoved yourself off of him and squinted your eyes towards him. "Don't touch me. You're weird." His voice turned whiney as he did the exact opposite, throwing his body into your shoulders and hanging off of you. "Come on, this ain't primary school is it? I don't have any cooties." He shook you slightly noticing that you laughed, he swore he heard it but you shook your head and frowned— claiming you did nothing of that sort.

"He has no interest in you." Nam-gyu came up behind him, patting his arm. Thanos shook his head, "No, he does. He just doesn't know it yet." Nam-gyu gave him a weird look, looking back over at you and watching as your expression changed when you went to your own group of choice. "See that? He didn't smile at you." Thanos planted his palm on the brunettes face, ignoring him and shoving him off.

"Oh— dude!"

"Shut up." Thanos kept his eyes on you, but his words directed towards his friend. "I can tell when someone is playing hard to get, it's easy." Nam-gyu shrugged, "I can't tell."

"Well of course you can't." Nam-gyu made a noise of offense. What was that supposed to mean?

Night fell, and everyone just wanted to sleep. Needed a break, especially you. It was pathetic to you, your stomach hurt and you felt like crying every single second. You missed your mom, and you just wanted to go home. You wanted to eat at the dinner table with her again, you wanted to mess around again, and feel happy. But now you were here just because you thought this was a quick way to get money.

"Fucking scam.." you muttered, getting from your mattress to head off to the bathroom. It was quiet, the floors squeaky underneath the unbranded shoes you wore on your feet. This whole situation was unsettling.

You took a moment, splashing a bit of water on your face to clear your head.

Multiple thoughts that ran through your head had been interrupted by the door opening. "I'll be out in a minute.." thinking it was a guard, you wiped your face and got ready to leave.

"Leave? I just got here."

Oh, thanos could just hear your eyes roll before he even saw you. "Why the long face, hm?" His purple hair blurred passed you as he leaned on the sink, grabbing your hand to pull you closer to him. When you didn't pull away, he already knew he had you.

"It's none of your business." He looked up a bit, shrugging. "Good point. But I don't like that answer." God he was annoying.

A harsh breath pushed from your nostrils, taking a moment to think about what to say. You thought, and you thought, but then you thought too hard and your lip started to quiver slightly. Eyes getting watery, trying to get something out but it was silent and Thanos didn't expect this from you.

He himself stuttered a bit before he took into action, feeling your hand pull away slightly he tightened his grip and pulled you closer. The usual smug look was much more caring and considerate truly wanting to hear you out. "I'm sorry I just.." more broken sobs came out.

"I'm sick..sick, of this. I want to go home, Thanos I want to go home." From a few inches away, to hugging yourself into his chest he allowed himself to have his arms around you.

A slight smile tugged at the edge of his lips, it's not that he was going to fake comfort you because he really did feel sorry. It's just that this was his chance.

He stopped hugging you for a moment, opening his necklace, taking out an orange pill and offering it to you. "It's something that will make you feel better." He mumbled a small, "I promise." After seeing your suspicious face.

You grabbed it, observing it a bit. "Thanos. Is this a sex drug?" He eyes averted a bit, lips going into a thin line. Your face had pure disbelief, but you popped it anyways. Before he could even smile, your lips connected with his and you backed him into the stall of the pink doors.

The two of you were already hard, grinding on each other and practically swapping spit. His hands were kept on your hips, making sure you stuck to him like glue and didn't part from him.

"Oh fuck.." your voice, God he loved your voice and he needed to hear more of it. His lips came to your neck, open mouthed and sloppy and making sure marks were left for others to see that he finally had you.

Your fingers went to his hair, gripping them due to the pleasure he was bringing you. Damn he was good even if he was just dry humping you and sucking your neck. It made you think how many times he must have had sex before this as well, making you feel just a bit jealous.

You gripped tighter, pulling his head back so he could look you in your eyes. You shivered a bit feeling saliva drip down to your collar bone. Gross. "Fuck anyone after this, and I'll kill you myself." He giggled like an idiot, nodding his head. "Yes sir."

His tongue came to suck on his own fingers for a bit, while his other hand worked on pushing your pants and boxers down. "This gonna feel weird, just give it a minute." His joking tone dropped, giving you a bit of a feeling in your dick. He sounded like he wasn't high 24/7 though the two of you were high off of an aphrodisiac. It was just attractive.

His fingers prodded for a moment, before pushing in and you had instantly yelped. He pushed your head into his shoulder, shushing you. "It isn't that I care." He spoke softly into your ear, "But it would bother you if someone heard, hm?" His painted fingers moved inside of you, thrusting in and out and he knew exactly what he was doing and it had you crumbling right then and there, you were sure he was holding half your body weight up.

"Thanos, Thanos, fuck.." He himself had groaned, his own eyes rolling back hearing you moan out just for him. His fingers pulled out, making sure you kept still. "Don't move too much." Your eyebrow cocked a bit, what did he mean? He took out his own, tip red and sensitive as he messaged it up and down just a bit.

But you, your eyes were wide with surprise and almost regret. "No." He looked back up at you, "No?" But he needed a yes.. "No. No way is that gonna fit." Oh, that was it. He almost thought you were gonna leave him like this. "Oh, but please." He put your chin up, kissing at your neck again to keep you distracted.

"It's only gonna sting a little..tiny.." He pushed inside, too eager to wait it out and go inch by inch. You winced, hitting his shoulder as even more tears pricked at your eyes yet they were tears of pleasure.

"Shush, hey hey, stop moving." You whined and complained. What did he mean stop moving? This fucking hurt! But he only had so much time to prep you up.

"Slow, go slow—" "I am going slow." The feeling of his girth stretching you open was pain you never felt before, yet it felt so good at the same time. Groans turned into moans and whimpers, your harsh grip turning into soft squeezes on his clothes from each thrust he was giving you.

"Shit..so tight.." As much as he had wanted you to moan loud for him, you were getting a bit too loud yet you couldn't help it. He kept you preoccupied by kissing you, muffling your noises down just a little bit.

He was so damn close, could feel your pre on open skin and could feel himself pulsing inside of you, he was so close—

"Player 230, and 231."

[startaegi]

FAVOURITE CRIME, namgyu. 【 CHAPTER 01 】

⤑ pairing, namgyu x fem!reader

⤑ synopsis, in which namgyu breaks the heart of his childhood sweetheart and tries to piece it back together again while fighting death.

⤑ series masterlist, favourite crime.

⤑ chapter two, coming soon!

⤑ notes, i had to give the reader an age to make the story make sense!! i listened to rosé’s album on repeat writing this chapter and it fits the plot perfectly

⤑ taglist, @chrisstyle @seonghwasslytherin @princessofthepuppets @ziallgf (let me know if you wanna be added)

You often wondered about the first moment you fell in love. It happened so gradually that you couldn't quite recall the moment it finally clicked. The same thought followed you in the small hours of the night, on the long work days when your feet and back ached, and especially on the days when you missed his presence most.

It had been the summer of 2008 when you first met him. You were a bright eyed eleven year old, too innocent for the world. The sun had finally started shining after a long week of summer showers and so your sketch pads laid against the hot pavement, pencils scattered around you. Your bottom lip was jutted in concentration, hands flying across the paper, a brown pencil tucked between your fingers.

You paused as a shadow blocked the sunlight casting darkness across your drawing. You slowly glanced upward expecting your mother but instead a boy towered over you, eyes focused on the paper at your folded legs. You looked down and back at him again.

"That's pretty good" He said, finger pointed to the cat drawing you were currently sketching.

"Thanks" You replied, tone clipped. "Can you move? You're blocking the sunlight"

He shuffled to the side, the soles of his shoes scuffing against the pavement. He continued to hover over you for the next minute or two, eyes focused and head moving when your pencil flicked in a certain direction. You tried your best to remain cool, uncomfortable under the unknown boys stare.

You dropped the pencil, staring up at him. "What are you doing?" You questioned.

"Watching you" He replied matter of factly.

"It's creepy"

He shrugged. "As i've heard before"

His words softened your gaze a little. You knew what kids were like. Their mean words, their horrid actions. You had known it a little too well, it was the reason you chose to stay so close guarded. Even at eleven you knew how cruel the world could be.

You straightened your back, apologetically looking back at him. "I didn't mean that" You said sincerely.

"It's okay, i'm used to it" He laughed it off. "Do you live here?" The boy pointed to the house behind you, the one with the windows pulled open and the trot music lowly drifting out.

"Yeah" You admitted, a little embarrassed.

He scratched the back of his arm, a red mark, almost like a burn, stood out against his pale skin. "Cool, we're neighbours" He beamed.

Hyehwa Station was fairly empty for a Saturday night. The only sounds came from the racketing trains passing through and the footsteps of the commuters heading home after their 9 to 5's. You wrapped the coat tighter around yourself, attempting to savour the warmth and took a seat at the empty bench. The small screen read ten minutes until the next train to Itaewon. You let out a sigh stretching your legs. The long work hours were slowly killing you.

Too busy trying not to fall asleep you took no notice of the person now sat beside you, too tired to care, until he loudly cleared his throat. You looked to your right, a well dressed man smiled, a little menacing if you were honest, at you, briefcase at his side. You smiled awkwardly back, bowing your head slightly out of politeness.

"Would you like to play a game?" The man questioned, the same uncanny smile on his face.

The unsettling feeling of dread settled in your stomach. You moved closer to the edge of the bench, as far from him as you could. "Excuse me?" You replied.

His head titled to the side, facial expression frozen. "Would you like to play a game?" He repeated.

"No thank you" You muttered under your breath.

The stranger didn't reply instead he stood up, opening the briefcase on the now empty spot he had once been sitting. You watched him in confusion, you didn't have the time or energy to be dealing with the strange people that frequented the subway stations. You pinched the bridge between your eyebrows, sighing loudly.

"Would you like to play a game?" He asked again as if stuck on a record.

"Look-" You started, turning to face him but froze momentarily. "What?" You asked dumbfounded.

Enough money to pay the month's rent gleamed up at you. Stacks upon stacks of Korean won sat neatly in the briefcase. You glanced up at him and back at the bills again. You didn't hesitate before asking, "What's the game?"

The man's eyes sparkled, his smile somehow becoming wider. He reminded you of something from the horror comics you used to read as a child.

He reached into the case pulling out two envelopes, red and blue. "Ddakji" He said, gaze fixated on you. "I'm sure you know how to play"

You hadn't in years, you'd probably only played it once or twice but you nodded nonetheless.

His twinkling eyes crinkled with a smile, "Win and i'll give you 100,000 won. Lose and you'll receive a punishment." He paused. "Ready?"

Your brows furrowed. "Punishment?"

"Just a light slap"

At this point you didn't care, you would've taken any punishment if it meant winning the money in that briefcase and you were winning it.

"Okay" You agreed, standing up and shrugging the backpack from your shoulders, then placing it onto the bench.

Five rounds later and you were 100,000 won richer. Your left cheek throbbed, your eyes filled with tears. Your mouth tasted metallic from the cuts you'd bit into your cheeks in frustration. He was too good at this, his calmness told you he'd done it one too many times.

"Congratulations, Y/N-ssi" The man applauded, slowly clapping.

You stared back at him through hooded eyes, attempting to catch your breath. He stretched out a hand, fingers delicately picking up the stack of cash and passing it to you. You quickly snatched it, scared he would take it away from you and tucked it safely into the pocket of your coat.

He closed the case, turning to face you cheerfully. It seemed this man didn't know how to be upset. He reached into his pocket, taking out a small brown card and holding it out for you. You hesitated but took it from his grasp. Three symbols stared up you, a square, a triangle and a circle.

"Call the number on the back if you're interested in winning a lot more" He said, bowing in your direction and then taking off towards the exit.

You flipped it over and truth be told a number was there. Your mouth twisted, mind in battle with itself. If it was another game of ddakji or even worse, some other childhood game, you'd be screwed, you would be loosing whatever money was up for grabs in the first round. Your childhood was spent in comic books and colouring pencils, or in textbooks and homework, not on the playground with other kids playing games, you'd have no idea how too.

Your mind contemplated it over on the train ride home, occupying your running thoughts with something else for once. You entered the cold apartment at almost midnight, instantly throwing yourself face down onto the bed. Your backpack and coat still on. You let your body sink into the mattress, exhaling loudly. The apartment was silent, so quiet you could hear the refrigerator humming and the wind rattling against the windows.

These were the nights when your mind went to him. When it was quiet. When it was your heartbeat you could hear and not his underneath you. You flipped onto your back, backpack digging into you, moving uncomfortably you pulled it from your shoulders tossing it onto the floor. Your fingers found your pockets taking out the brown card, staring intently at the phone number. When had your life become such a shit show, when had accepting a beating from a stranger in the subway station for 100,000 become the normal. This wasn't how you planned it for yourself. You often wondered where it all went wrong.

[skyrigel]

Guardian angel - the salesman

Kidnapping, manipulation, forced feeding, mild dumbification [ Read Guardian devil here ]

He watched your face, ridden of any turmoil. Sleep laden and lips parted, blissfully lost in a foreign dream.

It pleased him to see you sleeping so peacefully, in your dingy apartment with broken windows and leaking ceiling, loud hostile music coming from upstairs and poor regulator that did nothing to warm your room. The bed left your body sore and cold, there was no comfort there for a pretty one like you, so soft, so tender. But it's alright, he'd got you safe here baby.

As much as he loved watching you sleep, but it's been hours after he had taken you out from that shitty apartment, paid the six months due rent and slapped the landowner three times — for all the windows he never fixed and only asked for payments. Next he logged into your email, sent the resignation you had drafted months ago but never sent because there was no work except it. You don't need it now, you needed none of their bullshit. 

You belong to him, he'll take care of you.

“Easy…wake up now, sweetheart.” He cupped your face, skin warm and soft. Your lids slowly opened, expecting harsh day light that came through the broken panels, cheap curtains did nothing to block out the rays. 

There was none of it, your body felt rested and warm. 

“I..Y-you— this..” You scrambled back like a kitten spotted stealing bread. Banging your head hard against the headboard and pain ozzed up in short waves.  His big palm coming to rest on the back of your head and smoothing down the pain, “You must be hungry.” 

It wasn't a question, a statement.

“Who are you ?” You snapped back, trying not to waver your gaze at the tray he was hoisting up with careful, with a steaming bowl in between. 

“Chicken soup,” He said, then smiled like a devil masquerading an angel, “oh, me ?” 

“Who are you ?” you asked again, desperation pouring its way inside you. He was handsome, very handsome. 

“I am your everything baby. Your lover, your family, your angel….” His eyebrows tugged manically, “And your devil.” 

You bite your lips hard enough to draw blood, then open your mouth to say something, counter him. He wasn't. He wasn't. He — 

Meanwhile he blew the steam away from the scooped up herby soup, countering him wasn't something that would please him. You can be a brat all you want later, talk back all you like. He's here, he'll listen, maybe you should give him a list of all the people who've pissed you. That will be good, but for now you must eat and rest. He didn't want to drug you, but there was no other way. 

“Eat, love.”  He pushed as your lips parted, it wasn't hot enough to burn your tongue. He knew it as well.

“Is it good ? I made it for you.” 

Your eyes teared up, it tasted similar, it was the sort of thing that tasted like home, although you haven't known it for so long after your parents' home smelled too much like alcohol and bruises. 

“Hey, hey, hey —” He cooed, as much as he liked how puffy your lips became and goddamn those star like eyes. But it pulsed his heart to see you cry. “What happened ? Tell me.” His sleeve came up to wipe away the soup from the corner of your lips . 

You breathlessly shaked your head.

“Was it you who sent food every day ?” You looked up, eyes into eyes. He leaned forward, his hands holding up the tray.

“Don’t worry too much baby. I've got you.” He whispered, pressing his lips on your forehead and taken aback with your raised chin, a moment, then his lips met yours in a peck. He pulled away, you were all flushed, another moment. He kept the tray aside on the bed table, and smiled like the tempted devil. Slender fingers came and held your jaw hard, before he drank you up all the way in. His lips glided and pried open your mouth to let him get a taste of home, rawly he fucked his tongue in your mouth and felt his cock erect in the simple thought of using your mouth. His beautiful kitten, his cock slut.

It's alright, he's got you. His baby, all his.

[lorasdolly]

doctor gf!abby finding you in the er of the hospital she works act and acting all concerned and cutesy

𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐉𝐎𝐁

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

𝗱𝗼𝗰𝘁𝗼𝗿 𝗴𝗳!𝗮𝗯𝗯𝘆 anderson 𝘅 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

It was nearing night time, meaning that Abby would be home soon from her excruciatingly long shift.

Abby took longer shifts, allowing herself to make enough money for the both of you. She prided herself in have the capacity to take care of you, cherish you, and everything else she wished.

So, to appreciate that, you decided to make her a special dinner. Even if it was dark out, Abby hardly got breaks on the job.

You were aware, yet she told you not to worry.

You worried, nonetheless, taking it into your own hands today. The only downside was the shakiness of your hands from the winter weather.

Since the oil was hot, practically spiking, you tried to begin the cooking process. Till the quickness of dropping something took you by suprise, one thing leading to another, and your hand getting burnt from burning oil.

Your first reaction was to yell, and once you got out a couple tears, your next step was to grit your teeth and do something about it.

Tears kept spilling but you were frantically getting Abby's first aid kits. You had told her it wasn't necessary, but she knew you better than you knew yourself, storing them in random little places for fast accessibility.

You took a damp towel specifically made for burns and draped it over your hand, then grabbing a coat and keys.

You drove, clenching your jaw at an attempt to distract yourself from the chronic and stinging pain. Pulling into the ER room Abby worked at, you walked to the lobby and showed them the burn.

Desperately you spoke, "I need my girlfriend– God, now—"

A nurse directed you to a patient room, prioritizing your case before the burn could get any worse. You hadn't even got a chance to tell her your girlfriend's name.

Yet, the nurse knew. With the birthstone promise ring on your hand, she could already assume only one doctor had such a deep affection for their girlfriend.

After a few minutes of bouncing your leg up and down, the door swung open simultaneously with the noise of elastic gloves being pulled into place.

Your watery eyes stared up at Abby, a small groan leaving your parted lips. "Abs'—"

She shook her and made her way to you, grabbing the wrist of the damaged hand tenderly to inspect the burn. "How on earth did this happen, angel?"

Her concern seeped through not only her words, but actions. She observed the severity of the burn, nearly sighing in relief when she realized it could be easily taken care of.

"Nearly went into cardiac arrest when the nurse called for me," She spoke heartily.

"I– I was making you dinner," you began, words panicky and all squished in one breath.

She allowed you to keep speaking while grabbing supply to clean the wound, nodding and humming in acknowledgement in every second.

"It had oil in the recipe, so– so I heated it on the pan," you kept breathing unevenly, explaining with shaky hands.

Abby could grasp where the rest of the story went, but she let you continue, washing the area with a light soap and lukewarm water on a towel. She was insanely focused on both taking care of you and listening to you.

"It spilled, I got burned, rushed here—" Abby cut you off with an „uh-huh“.

A frown presented on your lips, watching her apply ointment, "It's not that bad, babe. Just need to be more careful." Abby said, never lifting her gaze off your hand.

"How 'bout we order take out next time you feel like doing something sweet?" A humorlessly chuckle came from her throat, an attempt to calm herself down from the insane worry of ever leaving you alone again.

"It was an accident, Abs'." You said with a petulant expression. "You can't forbid me from cooking." You declared but she didn't take it that seriously, tilting her head in a "That's exactly what I'm going to do." look.

"Maybe I'll just install cameras anywhere you could get hurt this way." She alternated, a brow cocked at her own idea.

You rolled your eyes, uninjured hand coming to rest on Abby's shoulder. Abby didn't react, simply bandaging the burn properly.

"Abs', I'm sorry." You whispered, your lips lingering over her ear.

She paused in her movements, the process over with. A sigh left her, a hefty sigh. "I'm not mad, babe. I'm worried." She clarified, making eye contact with you and as hand encircled your wrist.

You didn't reply, mesmerized with how she lifted your burned hand to her lips, kissing the wrists tenderly. The pecks traced to your palm, a firmer kiss left there.

"I should clock out now, no?" She asked after a hot minute of silence. She received a nod from you, a quiet craving to have her all to yourself at home, pampered and loved.

"I'll cook for us. Stay far away from the kitchen." She released your wrist, using the moment to lighten the tension with humor.

[jaeminify]

[4:39am] ☆ mark lee.

synopsis ☆ this was wrong, sinfully so. but when you're presented with two strong arms and three sultry words whispered in your ear, mark lee has you right where he wants you, and you're not complaining.

pairing ☆ dom!mark x afab!reader

warning(s) ☆ spit kink, swearing, semi public sex?? (they're in a bathroom but it's clean), mark is possessive, slight student x teacher but mark is the TA and they're the same age so... porn without a plot!

"Baby, fuck..."

Mark Lee was known to keep his composure. He never lost his cool or got himself too angry where he had to excuse himself from a classroom, but, when it came to you, all attempts of patience flew out the window and out crawled all the greedy thoughts Mark desperately tried to hide every time he saw you.

As if being your TA wasn't enough, Mark had the (unfortunate) pleasure of becoming your personal tutor. It was thanks to Professor Jeong that Mark gave you the extra attention to help you secure your internship next semester.

Little does your professor know that Mark was helping you in many ways, instead of one.

"Fuck—" Mark whispers again, trying his best to control his hips from thrusting deeper in your mouth, ignoring the bass of the music that's blasting through the house.

Outside of classes the two of you were friends. Yes, friends, even with his dick in your mouth you two had interesting conversations that made Mark want to learn more about you.

All your likes, dislikes, pet peeves and habits. He just wasn't aware of where it was leading up to (read: here as in, in a house party with drunk adults slurring their speech everywhere you went, but Mark and you were in a spare room on the second floor— that was off limits except to you).

You trace the veins of his cock, smiling up at him when you pull your mouth away. Wrapping your fingers around his shaft to drag your palm up, and down, and up, and down, taunting him until his eyes rolled back and his hips thrusted forward. You were thinking about all the ways he could ruin you and all the ways he could make you cum.

You tell him exactly that, and he shudders.

"Want you to make my legs shake, Mark, I need you to be all I think about. You want that too, right?," You whisper loud enough for him to hear and it's killing him. If not literally, then he might be feeling it now. He couldn't believe someone who looked so innocent, could look so deliciously sinful when on her knees with his cock in your hand and your lips covered in spit.

Mark gets an idea and tugs your chin upwards with his hand, "Open," he demands and easily, you follow his orders. A ball of spit lands straight onto your tongue, earning a moan which Mark catches between his lips when glides his tongue across yours.

"Take some more baby, I know you can. You and your dirty little mouth are gonna get more than what you asked for." He grunted, but you giggle, happily taking his dick in your mouth, watching his chest heave up and down while he mutters a string of curses, along with praises to keep you going.

"That's right, pretty girl. Just like that— Oh, you're so good. This isn't your first time, is it?" He groans, fisting your hair to ground himself when your tongue plays with his balls, giving kitty licks while your hand glides up and down his shaft.

"Fuck—" Mark forcefully pulls you off his cock, ignoring the way it twitches when you whine from being interrupted.

Instead, Mark makes it up to you by placing you on the counter, pushing your skirt up to your hips and getting on his knees.

"Sorry to stop you baby, but I just can't fucking take it— Need to taste you." Before you can respond, he dives right in with his tongue against your clit, flicking it then mouthing it so well, you have to stop yourself from sliding down the marble counter of the bathroom.

As of now you didn't care where Mark wanted to fuck you, or eat you out. You'd take either. The bathroom, the hallway, the staircase for everyone to see— the pleasure was too much and Mark was enjoying it, possibly more than you.

The more he licked the louder his moans got, and the vibrations were adding to your pleasure.

"Shit— Mark! Oh my god— yes, yes, yes! Yes! God, right there!"

While Mark tried his very best to be quiet when you went down on him, you did not. You didn't care if the next person lining up outside could hear you. You were getting eaten out by the boy you found incredibly hot, there was no way you were going to keep yourself quiet.

Before you knew it, you were squirting out your juices on his face, but instead of shying away, you pushed your hips further up into Mark's face, to which he gladly accepted as he cupped your legs into his arms and pushed his lips against your pussy, licking you clean and drinking up all the juices you had let out.

You don't know what happens for a split second, but soon, Mark is staring right at you with a closed mouth, but when he leans forward to kiss you, here's out another string of saliva onto your tongue, making your roll your eyes back.

Your cunt is still sensitive, flinching when you feel his cock against it — still hard, and erect. But you're too distracted by the kiss he gives you to even care. You ignore the ache in your bottom region and wrap your legs around his middle, wanting to be as close as you could be to him, and Mark accepts.

He grabs at any skin he feels; your thighs, your hips, your waist before landing right on your ass and he squeezes it like his life depends on it. You let out a squeal that turns into a moan, and you feel Mark smirk against your cheek as he leaves opened mouth kisses on your face.

"Yeah? Like that?" He slaps it one more time before grabbing a handful, then tugging you close so this time his cock rests directly on top of your cunt, smirking at the face you make. "I'm gonna have my way with you baby, and I'm not gonna stop—" he pants out.

"If that's not okay, and if that's not what you want, tell me now, angel. Tell me now and I'll let you go and we'll pretend this never happened."

You can't help but smile at his thoughtfulness. Even when he was clouded with lust, and his eyes were looking straight into your eyes, you know you could easily back out without him being mean or judgemental about it. But, you waited too long to get here with Mark to back out.

All you could see was the way his dick rested between your lips, and your mind was screaming more!

"Mark," You wrap your arms around his neck to pull his closer. Your lips against his, you lick them then smile, "I don't want to back out, or stop here right as it's getting good."

Mark shuts his eyes as if he's fighting a dilemma in his head, but then he's staring down at you and leaving soft kisses against your jaw.

"What do you want to do, Y/N? Say the word. I'll give it to you."

You smile softly when he reaches behind your ear, giving it a small peck then trailing down your neck again.

"I want you, in me." He halts, then looks up at you again as if to confirm what he heard, and you gladly repeat yourself. "I want you, to fuck me so stupid that all I can think about is your name," You lick his upper lip, "Your cock," You tug his bottom lip with your teeth, softly pulling it back then letting go.

Lastly, you kiss his lips.

"I want you, Mark."

Mark smiled and carried you in his arms, locking the bathroom door as he laid you on the rugged carpet in the middle of the gigantic bathroom. It helped keep you warm from the marble floor, Mark would prepare something special for you; a picnic date first then a second round in a bedroom, like it was meant to be in, but right now he needed to please you.

"Baby wants my cock?" He asks as he lays you down. When you nod and reach up for him again, he smirks, finding it hot that you can't seem to get enough of him.

"Don't worry," He whispers against your lips as he hovers over you, "I'm gonna make sure you never forget who you were with tonight."

☆ rough draft but i thought of it in the moment and decided to let my thoughts run free LOL hope u liked it <3 till the next oneshot! any typos or errors will be fixed when i reread x

☆ ps. i have a brothers best friend!jaemin wip im still editing which may take a while so i hope this helps quench the thirst a little <3

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

Hey, I love your writing it is amazing ! Can you please write a story about Marcus acacius being in a political match with a reader from a city he conquered ? ❤️❤️

warnings: +18, some nudity, some kissing, some wine, forced marriage, mentions of war and death

note: I don't know if you'll like it, sweetie. rather boring. but thank you very much for this message with a request, it was good to take my mind off everyday life.

General Marcus Acacius [masterlist]

marriage l General Marcus Acacius

The golden bracelets fell with a loud clatter to the bottom of the ornate metal bowl.

"This is unacceptable." You repeated for the umpteenth time that day and probably the thousandth time in the past few days. "I don't know who could have allowed this to happen. This is..."

You were at a loss for words, so all you could do was groan loudly with suppressed rage. "If I were a man..."

"But you're not, my lady. If you were a man, your head would have been impaled on a spear and exposed to public view long ago." Ava, your servant, approached you and slowly began to remove the next pieces of jewelry that adorned you. "General Acacius seems quite..."

"I don't care." You interrupted her quickly, and seeing the smile, you asked quickly "Do you know anything more? Tell me."

The fighting lasted a long time and many people died. Fire, death, screams and the clatter of steel. Finally, the sun disappeared, covered by a huge cloud of black smoke. The Roman Empire came and claimed the land you were born and lived on. With blood and sword, as they were wont to do.

The city was conquered. You could no longer defend yourselves, it was pointless. Nothing could resist such power and strength.

You saw it all, but you didn't know that your fight wasn't over. When you were informed that as part of a political agreement with the occupiers, you were to marry the general who commanded this army, you were furious.

"My lady." the man who brought you this news bowed deeply "It is necessary. The city will gain protection. The people will be safe."

You could still smell the smoke, it permeated you. You saw the ruins and women mourning their loved ones. You knew he was right.

The first time you saw General Marcus Acacius was when he entered the city with his army and officially took over its rule. He was a tall, broad-shouldered man with a prominent nose and curly hair sprinkled with gray. You didn't like him.

You saw him for the second time during the wedding ceremony. He had beautiful brown eyes, and his hands grabbed yours with unusual gentleness for a soldier. He tried to smile at you, but you were too proud, too angry and too scared. 

You had to look at him with a mixture of all these feelings, because he lowered his gaze and didn't dare to look into your face again that evening.

You knew, however, that he was watching you. You felt his gaze on you, but you didn't take off the mask you put on. You wanted him to feel that you did it out of compulsion, that you didn't want such a husband, that he didn't even deserve your attention.

Ava carefully put down the necklace decorated with precious stones and looked at you with strange excitement.

"You know, my lady, that several of our servants were sent to serve high-ranking soldiers." you nodded "I spoke to the one who served General Acacius."

You frowned. "Did he hurt her? Those barbarians shouldn't..."

But she shook her head. "He didn't do anything." she replied. "Kayi served him in the bath, and the General didn't even touch her with a finger, didn't spare her a glance. She expected that after such long battles, the presence of a woman would be provocative for him, but no. He dismissed her."

"What does that mean?"

"I have no idea." Ava sighed. "But you, my lady, will find out tonight. General Acacius is your husband now."

You almost jumped when you heard the door to your chamber slam. He was here with you, you couldn't escape anymore. The footsteps indicated that he had crossed the room and approached the table where the wine was. You watched him closely from the bed you were sitting on.

The armor he was wearing shone. The precise hands of the servants must have taken care to wash the blood and dirt off it. You saw that the General poured the wine into two goblets, then turned and slowly headed towards you.

"It's been a long evening. You must be tired, my lady." His voice was pleasant, low and enveloping. You hesitantly took the goblet from his hand.

"Indeed." You replied. "I think there's still a lot ahead of us."

General Acacius looked at you with interest. "Do you think so? I saw how contemptuously you look at me." you didn't look down even though you felt the heat creeping up your neck "I don't blame you. I even expected it. I would be surprised if a woman like you welcomed the occupier with open arms. I wouldn't be surprised if you have a hidden dagger under your robe."

"Do you want to search me, General?" you looked at him defiantly. You thought about stabbing him in bed, but what then? The Romans would raze the city to the ground, not a stone would be left on a stone, and the inhabitants would end up slaughtered or as slaves.

"I believe you are reasonable." he took a sip of wine without taking his eyes off you, and you did the same "Call me Marcus."

"And what do you want to call me?"

"With your name. Or as you wish. Morning breeze? Favorite of the gods? Goddess? Beloved..." he took the goblet from your hand and placed it on a small table by the bed. "From the first moment I saw contempt in your eyes and I knew I deserved it. You don't greet someone who brought you war with flowers."

Marcus took off the cape that was thrown over his shoulders and carelessly threw it on the chair.

"This marriage wasn't my idea." he continued taking off more elements of his armor. "But I won't hide that when they showed me you I thought that the gods were really kind to me. But who am I to be worthy of someone like you..."

"You are the General of the invincible Rome." you stood up and walked up to him. Your hands were shaking, but you tried to hide it as you started to untie the straps at his side, his gaze was piercing you, you could almost feel it under your skin. "You conquered us. Such marriages are something that gives hope for peace and rebuilding what was destroyed. If I were a man, you would not have such mercy."

"But you are not. You are much more."

You raised your gaze to him. You could drown in his eyes, in this trembling candlelight they were like a dark well, but it did not scare you, quite the opposite. You immersed yourself in them slowly. With great care you took off his breastplate and carefully placed it on his cape.

"I don’t expect you to give yourself to me." Marcus said as you reached for the next straps. "I couldn’t be so impudent, greedy or..."

"You didn’t touch any of our servants. Why?"

Your question caught him off guard. "And should I?"

"Others would not hesitate."

"Or maybe something much more valuable was offered to me?" you frowned trying to understand his words. A small smile spread across his lips. "You, my lady."

Another piece of his armor fell to the floor. You didn't look away from his face though.

"I will not take you by force. I am not a barbarian."

"We must fulfill our duty to the gods. Otherwise, our marriage will not be accepted by them, or Rome..."

You gasped in fear as his hand grabbed your chin and turned your face to him. "Your body belongs to you. I have no right to it."

"As a husband..."

"As a husband, I would be honored if you allowed me to worship you, but I will not take you by force. You have my word."

You could feel that he was telling the truth. Every word that left his lips was a promise that you knew he intended to fulfill. Marcus stood before you in a burgundy tunic that he wore under his armor. If you had a dagger hidden under your robes, you could stab him, you knew exactly how to do it.

You only whispered. "I trust you, Marcus. I don't know why, but I do." 

He felt you tighten your fingers on the fabric he was wearing and began to remove it from him. You were slowly revealing his body. Skin kissed by the sun, a wide chest and strong arms. He saw your eyes flicker quickly down his chest straight to his half-hard cock.

"Forgive me, my lady, but if you saw yourself the way I see you, you would understand."

"I'll take that as a compliment." you replied.

Your hands reached for the ribbon that wrapped around your waist and after a moment the thin robe you were wearing slid off almost silently.

If Marcus was lying, you would have seen it in his gaze. But it wasn't there. And something strange began to form in your heart toward this man. You began to see him. Him, the man who stood before the woman and asked her for mercy. His body quivered as your hand rested on his chest.

"I should hate you, Marcus." You said quietly. "You brought war, death and tears. But looking at you I don't see it in your eyes, I don't feel it in you. We both can be pushed by the current of our history."

"If you had met me at a different time, could you..."

"Love you?" Your fingertips traced familiar patterns on his skin. "I don't know. Maybe."

He bowed his head slightly, his hand tenderly brushed your arm, sending a pleasant shiver through you. "And now?"

"I think time will give us that answer."

Something in your voice, touch and gaze made the thought he had been holding inside for so long come to the surface. A warm hand cupped your cheek, his thumb stroking your delicate and soft skin. "Just let me taste you once. I'm not asking for more."

You nodded, and he didn't hesitate. His lips crushed yours. He tasted you like you were the sweetest fruit in the world, the most perfect wine or a fresh breath of air. Your legs went soft so you clung to his solid body. The heat of his skin transferred to you at a fast pace.

And Marcus kissed you, his tongue slipped between your plush lips claiming another territory, but it was supposed to be only his. Only his.

You moaned quietly, a strong arm wrapped around your waist giving you stability and a sense of security.

Gods! If you had any doubts, they flew out of you at that moment. But it was Marcus who regained his senses. With no small effort he tore his lips from yours.

"If you give me more, I won't be able to hold back." he whispered "You're safe with me, I'll give you the world. I'll give anything in the hope that you'll be favorable to me."

"Then let's take this step together, Marcus." You replied just as quietly. "Let's see where this path leads. My husband." 

And he knew he was lost.

☆☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

[universalincubal]

Hey there. So I was in Nazi circles as a child until adulthood and came from red Northern and Southern California, the Deep South, and am now living in that funky part of the Midwest where it's still segregated but pretends to like queer people (super weird). So I've lived in and have stomping grounds in a good chunk of the USA. I am now 21 years old, just to make this a little clearer.

Anecdotally, I have never, and I mean legitimately NEVER personally known a Nazi who was not at the least a partial Trump supporter, if not an outright follower of his cult. There is definitely a range, but in effect it produces the same result. I'd say about 35% of everyone I knew was in his cult by summertime of 2019. The rest were vocal supporters of largely an avidly supportive bent.

Any leftover individuals who didn't like whatever random decision he made at whatever time, kinda just shut their mouth and chose to focus on what they did like about him or what he was doing to the country. Trump was doing such a flurry of things for so long and he was spinning such wild stories that people became addicted to the drama high and just didn't want to stop living in that high. They were the real right ones, they had held fast, they had done their righteous work and now the fruits of their labor were finally becoming apparent. And then Trump lost the election and took all of that with him. That's a significant part of the reason for the Insurrection, and the suicides.

Because Trump is an open supporter of Nazism and Hitler, and bad actors who happen to be Nazis (literally watched this live and recorded before 2021 but can't find any evidence now that Google is AI), Nazis in turn provide him at least surface level support because even if that Nazi happens to disagree with Trump's image, overall demeanor, or select-any political decision, they understand that he is their best option to actually get what they want. What they want is a Fourth Reich. They believe the USA is the new motherland and that the Fourth Reich is prophesised to occur here, presumably somewhere in the Heartland, as a grassroots movement that takes back the decimated personal rights of White Americans and people of Aryan descent. (The reason I state it this way is because this is how they romanticize it and this is how it would look to an outsider. It may also help recall memories in those who may suspect or need to remember specifics on Nazi upbringing.)

Now yeah, I've heard of Nazis who don't support Trump. The problem is they are largely ostracized from the rest of the community, at least from what I've seen. They don't show up at the family functions or the important meeting. They don't sit in at the council anymore. Their granddaughters see them less. There's a clear social loss to not supporting Trump in the last ~8 years and because he is taking the White House again, there will continue to be. This should be paid attention to.

I could see how an ostracized individual could do some petty crime like this, but that shouldn't be ignored or downplayed. A deeper rift between differing kinds of Nazis is dangerous for everyone because it creates a lot more singly dangerous acts, risky individuals who are more likely to drop a bomb in a store, or shoot their wife or parents, or drive a vehicle through a crowd, than to organize a militia. We would need to see Nazis with differing opinions come together in one movement to achieve militias and enact whatever judgement they see fit in any organized fashion. This does not mean that chaotic, disconnected violent acts would not be ridiculously dangerous and cause terror in the general populace. I personally know, having grown up Nazi, that mass disorganized violence is what Plan B is for.

Be careful around Nazis. They live for volatility and are incredibly dangerous. Be smart and stay safe. They will always try to get a reaction or an effect with what they say. Just don't let them have it. They have the White House and all of our rights and lives with it. It's not worth risking your safety or the safety of anyone else because we have a longer fight we need to win with stamina and perseverance. If they hit first (and they have and will continue to), they will always be on the wrong side of history, and we are free to retaliate as necessary for the good of society. Good luck out there.

Trump supporter or opponent?

Someone just painted a swastika on Donald Trump's star on Hollywood Boulevard but the cops can’t figure out if it was a supporter or an opponent.

[hopepunk-humanity]

Here's a hopepunk story that I've been thinking about recently. I was heading to school and it was cold (for where I live) teeth chatteringly breath seeingly why didn't I wear warmer close my hands feel like popsicles cold. And early-ish in the morning like 8am. And there's this old man jogging, bundled up in mittens and a colorful hat and he is moving just so incredibly slowly. Like snails pace I could probably walk faster, but you can tell he's moving as fast as he possibly can like his arms are pumping and the way he's moving his feet it felt like watching a jogger in slow motion. But he kept going and I felt so incredibly happy for him because he was still going. Even though it was slow he was so determined and all I could think of was good for him. To keep moving even when it's slow and even when its cold and even when you see others moving faster than you. Just keeping moving. Never give up.

Something I've noticed with the older adults in my life is that they don't care about meeting other people's arbitrary expectations anymore. They're content to move at their own pace, in their own way. I think that's worth learning.

[dianagpeppermintnightmare]

A Word on Rei Hino's Anime Characterization

Okay so this is a take I have seen a LOT of Sailor Moon fans make, and it is really, really aggravating. There's a tendency within the fandom to take the manga as being holy writ that reflects author Naoko Takeuchi's "true" and "pure" vision, that the anime subsequently ruined through various means. This has popped up in, for example, baseless rumors that series director and Revolutionary Girl Utena co-creator Kunihiko Ikuhara hated Takeuchi's work (of which has already been debunked previously) or spinning a narrative of Takeuchi versus the animation team.

Now, the notorious take I'm referring to is the character of Rei Hino being mistreated by the anime and "ruined" compared to her manga portrayal. This is partly because, while the rest of the five main girls carry largely the same portrayal from anime to manga (some tweaks here and there because of the format), Rei is very different.

In the manga, she's cold but firm, old-fashioned and upper class, the embodiment of a traditional noblewoman. She cares very little for pop culture, she's very focused on her duties as a miko, and she's a bit of a stick in the mud with a gothic streak. She also does not like men and has no romantic interest in them.

In the anime, she's a fiery hothead who's loud, sarcastic, and easily frustrated with Usagi's antics. She's kind of pathetic, her moments of grandeur easily undermined with slapstick, and while she is focused on her duties as a miko, she's also in-tune with pop culture and regularly reads manga. She also does like men and does show some romantic interest in them.

Yes, these are both different characterizations. But the assumption that malice had anything to do with the reason for Rei being so different is bizarre because it relies on assuming some kind of conspiratorial effort to undermine Takeuchi's vision. The fact of the matter is...the reason for Rei's different characterization was down to a simple error in communication within a very haphazard production.

One has to keep in mind that Sailor Moon's entire existence wasn't some quest by Takeuchi to make an amazing work of shoujo manga. Her editor, Osano, had a meeting with Toei sometime after the original Codename: Sailor V one-shot was published, and pitched them the idea of a full series based on it. Takeuchi didn't know anything about it. She was basically brought into a production that, yes, she made her own, but it also involved a lot of companies wanting a franchise to make merch and money. This would evolve into the start of Sailor Moon.

What's more, keep in mind that the Sailor Moon manga began publishing at the end of December 1991. The first episode of the anime aired in early March of 1992. Keeping in mind the amount of time that would've been involved in producing the first few episodes, things were going at a tight pace. The whole idea was a mixed-media production where the anime and manga would be tied together with merchandise for the girls watching the series. It would've been impossible to make the anime a one-to-one adaptation of the manga. Even Takeuchi was making things up as she went along, it's very well-known that she had no idea where to take things after the first arc.

How does this tie into Rei?

A Brazilian fan documentary that personally interviewed series director Junichi Sato answered this question back in 2018, and it's so simple that I'm baffled none of the "Anime!Rei sucks" brigade know about this. But this is right from the mouth of Sato, the man who was the series director for the first season and a half of Sailor Moon. To paraphrase it simply: the animation team often had to meet with representatives like Osano and others, who were acting as middlemen between the anime team and Takeuchi. Takeuchi was busy with the manga, she wasn't always able to meet with the anime team. But by the time Rei had finally appeared in the manga, the anime team had several episodes in development where Rei was depicted differently than Takeuchi's vision. The lack of communication was what ultimately led to this divergence in portrayal. At the very least, when Takeuchi informed them, they tried meeting with her again to compromise.

That being said, there's a couple things here. While the format of the manga was monthly and introduced characters relatively quickly, the anime was weekly and allowed for more stories and episodic adventures. The anime also took a more comedic tone, so you had funny slapstick and hijinks. The first several episodes are Usagi by herself, with Luna as the straight man playing off her antics. Then you get Ami, who's more straightlaced, but has a calm and reserved personality.

And then you get Rei. Rei, who's loud, fiery, combative, regularly snarks at and belittles Usagi's antics, and engages in a dynamic with a lot of back-and-forth pushing.

That's entertaining. It changes the series up from just Usagi being silly and only having Luna to reprimand her, to having an actual teammate who she has to fight beside and who reprimands her. Regardless of any personal feelings regarding Rei's characterization, it works. This is memorable. Rei's more reserved and calm personality in the manga just wouldn't work the same for the tone the anime was going for.

There's one rumor that blames the change solely on Kunihiko Ikuhara, even though he wasn't even the head director by that point. Now, Ikuhara does like Rei as a character. And he did play a part in how Rei was characterized in the anime, insofar as he directed several of the episodes she appeared in. You can definitely see some similar DNA in Rei's haughty but easily-humiliated presentation and compare it to Nanami Kiryuu from RGU. Two completely different characters, granted, but there's some similarities there. But this also ignores that animation is a collaborative effort and Ikuhara wouldn't have been the one making the scripts or directing every episode where Rei is characterized the same way, never mind how it ignores Sato's previous comments about the tight production. At most, while Ikuhara likely played a part, he wasn't the only one in the room, and there were more genuine reasons than anything conspiratorial afoot.

Did Takeuchi hate this change? Honestly, I don't know, but I don't think she ever openly disliked it. We know for a fact that she had friendly relations with the voice actors, including Michie Tomizawa, Rei's VA. We also know that she cried during the final episode of the anime. At most, she admitted to having some frustrations with the Sailor Moon R movie (ironic, considering it's held as the best of the three movies), but she didn't seem to hold any ill will towards the anime crew. I've heard more about her having issues with the higher ups at Kodansha and Toei than anything to do with the actual animation crew.

One last quibble is the accusation that, with Rei's manga portrayal being against dating guys and her anime portrayal being boy crazy like the other girls, that it amounts to straightwashing. But uh...y'all know Takeuchi wrote Rei crushing on a guy too, right?

This is from a story Takeuchi wrote called Casablanca Memories. It does one thing that the anime never did, which was explore Rei's background. Her dad is a sleazy politician who doesn't care about her, her mom died when Rei was a little girl...and there's this guy named Kaidou who's her dad's assistant. Rei has known him since she was a little girl. Rei is actually in love with him.

Yeah, she's in love with a grown-ass man, I'm not about to get into all the weird stuff in Takeuchi's work.

But the idea that Rei was "straightwashed" in the anime is complete nonsense. Sure, I don't really like that she's made to be boy crazy, but it's pretty clear that Takeuchi's intent with Rei was more of a "Had one love and her heart was broken" thing than making Rei a lesbian. Rei being a lesbian is a very popular headcanon, but it's not what Takeuchi intended. Straightwashing is taking a character who's queer in the source material and making them straight in an adaptation, which...isn't what happened here.

So, to give a tl;dr, the way the anime depicted Rei wasn't "ruining" Takeuchi's vision, the production of the anime was a mess and miscommunication largely caused the change in characterization, and Rei wasn't straightwashed. I'm not going to argue that the anime adapted things perfectly, there's a lot of issues with how other characters are handled (Mamoru and Setsuna are done far better in the manga and lord I would take the Dream arc in the manga over most of SuperS), but I think it says a lot that in my experience, every time I've gotten someone into the Sailor Moon anime, it's been that characterization of Rei that's stuck with them.

Something was done right.

[filisite]

And here we go again?...

- Dad! - You screamed in despair, running to the huge screen on the building that was currently broadcasting. Your father was going to commit suicide to save the earth and his loved ones.

How he regretted not telling Stone that he loved him, that he was not only his friend, but something more. How he wanted to tell his daughter to her face how much he loved her and was proud of her.

And that he regrets that he couldn't be a better father to you.

Ivo Robotnik trusted the first person he met, and now he regrets it so much that he completely forgot about his own child, focusing exclusively on taking over the world and Gerald's fake kind smile.

If he can't take over the world, he'll at least save it.

- My beloved and only daughter, I love you, baby. - He moved on to you after he opened up to Stone, he couldn't leave you without telling you his last words. He knew that Stone would take care of you, that he would be a better father than he was.

All the events of his life, from childhood to adulthood. Graduating from school with a gold medal, entering the best university, getting a high-paying job. Receiving fame for his inventions... And the birth of a child he loved with all his heart. The difficult fate of the Worker, which he overcame and became the best version of himself.

The last words he wanted to convey were said.

...

You and Stone returned home, neither of you talking to each other on the way back, just hugging each other tightly before going to bed.

[reader] was in shock, she was stunned and desperate, she wanted to cry and scream. She didn't want to admit that all this was real, her only loved one had died. To save their world.

But honestly, she would sacrifice the world for the person she loved.

Was that really what Shadow felt?

A burning pain in her chest, a desire to burn everything around her, to destroy everything, leaving nothing but emptiness.

The girl cried into her pillow all night, trying to drown out her pain, to be strong for her family and friends.

...She is not alone yet.

...

[reader] was still crying, although she had long since fallen asleep. She needed time for the pain to pass, that's what heroes say in movies, right?

The previously clean pillow absorbed all her grief, all her tears of regret.

Shadow appeared in the middle of her bedroom and stood there, sympathetically watching her cry and sob in her sleep.

Hedgehog walked up to her bed, stood by her face and gently brushed a strand of wet hair from her forehead.

He knew how much it hurt, but he couldn't do anything for you. You can't bring the dead back to life. No matter how much he himself dreamed about it for fifty years in the capsule.

Mobian could only wipe your wet face with his palms now. As if he could absorb your grief through the fabric of his gloves, he even wanted to do that. If only you weren't suffering.

Shadow leaned towards your face and kissed your forehead. Memories of her came to mind, how she could convey all the love through that touch.

He made the right decision, Maria would definitely want peace, for her loved ones to be happy.

He is not alone, he has you. I hope you think about him too.

[jsmainblog]

shoulder to cry on - spencer reid ⋆｡‧˚ʚɞ˚‧｡⋆

requests are always open <3

spencer reid x bau!reader,

summary: after a particulary bad case which upsets you spencer offers you some comfort

warnings: light angst, illusions to child murder/death/killing

fluff 💗/ angst 💔

It had been a hard case. Even just thinking about how everything turned out makes your eye's water and your throat raw. Sitting on the BAU jet staring out the window you grapple onto the ledge in your mind to avoid being dragged into the unforgiving hell of emotion surrounding the case.

Most the BAU team are asleep. All except for one. He sat quietly in his seat seemingly engrossed in the book held in his nimble hands that you have come to known better than your own. You notice the way his eyebrows furrows, or the way his lip curls, or when he's looking at.. you? Your eyes dart away quickly. You know they are red rimmed and glassy and if anything Spencer knows when somethings up. Even just one glance and he could tell. Having a profiler and genius as a boyfriend has its pros and cons sometimes.

Spencer stands, his long limbs seeming unsteady as he comes and sits next to you.

"Hey" he says gently. He gives you that smile. The smile that makes you wanna melt, the smile that makes you believe everythings okay, the smile that you want to confide in.

"Hi"

"So I know you probably not having a allergic reaction, and I know its hayfever season, and I know you probably didn't put any contact lenses in so are you going to tell me whats wrong?" he says gently trying to inquire about your emotional state without pushing you. Your heart can't help to flutter. He knows you so well.

"Is it about the case?" he inquires again. When your eyes dart away you see a saddened, almost sympathetic look befall his face and he sighs.

"Baby, you couldn't have saved them you know that. There in a better place now, a place without pain. Please sweetheart don't blame yourself, I know it's tough but I can't sit here and watch you be so upset." he murmured.

"I know that Spence but if I did something different I could've...I could've saved them or at very least one of them. I didn't.. I didn't want to fail them." you choke. You feel his arm wrap around your shoulder and a tender kiss placed to your temple.

"You saved a life angel. Thats better than saving none okay? One kid is going home back to their mom and dad. One baby is going back to their parents." he mused. When a raw sob cut through your throat and tears spilled over the already sensitive rim of your eyes Spencer pulls you into a tight hug. His splayed hand rubs circles on your spine, his other hand which rests on your hip, rubs your hip bone with his thumb.

"Sshh shhh. Your okay, your gonna be okay lovely. I'm here don't worry." he mumbles into your hair pressing a kiss to your crown. You sob quietly into his chest as his warm palms and lips attempt to comfort you.

"Oh my sweet girl. I know, I know. I'm so sorry angel. Deep breathes for me now." he mutters. When you finally lean away from him revealing your tear stained face he wipes his thumb over travelling tears. Spencer looks like his heart is aching, which in reality it is. He's seeing the girl who he cares so deeply and eternally for break down in his arms for something she was no control of.

"I'm sorry." you say bashfully a weak smile tugging at your lips.

"Sweetheart what are you sorry for? If your sorry about being upset you have absolutely no reason to be sorry for. Infact, if you didn't get upset I'd be even more worried. You don't have to be sorry for being human baby, or having emotions, everyone on the team has probably done this in the jet bathrooms if I'm gonna be honest." he says trying to lighten the mood a bit.

"Really?" you say a bit shocked. You thought the other team members where so resilient, acquired through years of emotional berating from cases and a 'if it happens, it happens.' attitude.

"Course we do. JJ always has to have a minute after some cases revolving around children, Morgan with pedophiles, I do with those who are struggling mentally. Some of us aren't as strong as we think. But its okay, at the end of the day we know we've tried our best and if we've at least saved one life we are happy. Its better to focus on what went right rather then mulling over what went wrong." Spencer explains. It shocks you again, you've noticed BAU members having unusually long time spent in the jets bathroom but you didn't think it was for crying at all. It comforts you a little, while yes your teammates, your friends are in pain at least they feel the same way you do. At least they can understand.

"I think you should sleep sweetie, I think it would be good for you. You know because you can't think in your sleep. Well actually you can, you process your thoughts and events from the day subconsciously, and you dream, and you can wake yourself up from thinking when you are asleep. I'm not helping am I?" he rambles.

"No, not particularly."

"You wanna sleep on me? I don't want to sound full of myself but I think I'm more comfy then the jets headrest." he suggests.

When your head drops to his shoulder and your eyes close, you don't feel like your head is a swarm of bad memories and thoughts surrounding the case being played on loop its just filled with thoughts about Spencer. Mainly on how grateful that you have such a sweet, loving boyfriend in your life. At that point in time you knew that you love Spencer, that you are inlove with him and it fills you with ease because you already know he loves you back.

[x-aefx]

Hihi !! 🩵

I have a little request and I was hoping you could to it ! So I was thinking you could do a little blurb of F!Reader having like really bad cramps and Billie just comforting them that’s just pure fluff bc I’m having like horrible cramps rn and I need smth like that ☹️

This is so cute🤍 i hope you like it and i hope you get over your cramps soon🫶

𖦹 ☼ ⋆｡˚⋆ฺ ♡

SWEET - BILLIE X FEM!READER

𖦹 ☼ ⋆｡˚⋆ฺ ♡

You had your day planned. You were supposed to organize your closet, practice guitar and do some cleaning. it was supposed to be a productive day, yet you lay on your bed in pain.

Out of all the things you had planned for today, getting your period was not one of them. Your eyes squeezed shut as you felt the sharp pain from your cramps, the hot water bottle you clutched doing little to soothe you.

"fuck." You muttered in discomfort.

"y/n!" A voice called from downstairs. Billie closed the front door behind her as she invited herself into your home. She looked around not finding any sign of you. She frowned in confusion.

"up here." You tired to call out as loud as you could, but the pain you were feeling made it hard to do. You turned on your side to try find some relief.

Billie didn't hear your response, but she walked upstairs anyway, not thinking of any other place you could be, and she knew you were home since your car was here and the house was left unlocked.

She smiled excitedly as she walked to your bedroom, figuring you were cleaning or working and thats why you hadn't heard her. She was excited to see you. You two had made plans to hang out, which Billie always looked forward to. You were her favorite person.

Opening the bedroom door her smile faded slightly, her brows drawing together in concern as she seen you curled up in your bed, a hot water bottle clutched against your stomach. She knew immediately what was wrong, she had seen you many times like this, and you with her.

"y/n?" She called out your name again, this time sympatheticly, feeling the urge to take care and comfort you. She walked over to your bed.

You exhaled the air you had been holding, growing frustrated with the cramps you suffer from every month. You turned your head to face her, a pained expression on your face. Billie frowned down at you, she hated to see you in any kind of pain, it broke her heart seeing that expression on your face.

Billie put her phone and car keys on your bedside table, she shrugged off her jacket and shoes, and gently climbed into the bed beside you.

She wanted to do everything in her power to ease your pain.

She lay on her side, sitting up with her weight on her elbows as she leaned down to rest her face in the space between your shoulder and face. You leaned into her embrace, her touch welcoming and needed.

Billie wrapped an arm around your waist, the pads of her cold fingers tracing up and down your warm skin, leaving goosebumps after them. She tilted her face so that she was facing you. She smiled lovingly down at you, her lips placed small gentle kisses on your cheeks down to your jaw. Her fingers met the hem of your shirt and moved under it, dancing slowly up the skin of your stomach.

You smiled lazily up at her causing Billie to smile too.

"how's my sweet girl?" She mumbled. Her free hand moved up to comb her fingers through your hair, her fingers weaving gently through the strands.

You shook your head slowly. "Not good." You mumbled. Billie's smile softened. She leaned down and placed a small, sweet, kiss on your lips before moving down further in the bed. With her fingers she slowly pulled up your shirt slightly to expose the lower part of your stomach, where you had been clutching the hot water bottle.

You watched her curiously, but with the up most trust and love.

Billie began placing small, sincere kisses along your stomach, not neglecting a single place. She took her time, being gentle and making each kiss as loving as the last.

A small smile tugged at your lips, you sighed in content as your eyes threatened to close.

Billie smiled against your skin. Your shirt raised higher as she made her way up your stomach, leaving a soft and delicate trail of kisses with her.

Somehow you had manged to get distracted from your period cramps, feeling nothing but the love Billie was showering you with. You felt completely at peace in that moment.

Billie lifted her face to meet yours. She grinned up at you happily, making you chuckle at how adorable she looked. Billie leaned in to kiss you again, a soft and tender one, you both smiled against each other's lips.

"thank you." You whispered.

Billie softly shook her head. "You don't need to thank me, im here to take care of you, always."

You smiled back at her, thinking 'how did i get so lucky?'

Billie placed another tender kiss on your forehead.

As she lay back on the bed you climbed on top of her, resting your body flush against her front, as her arms wrapped securely around your body in a loving embrace, showing you she wasn't going anywhere.

You hid your face in the crook of her neck, relaxing as her fingers traced small circles onto your skin. You smiled when Billie began softly humming the tune of a song, the noise calming you.

You didn't know if Billie somehow soothed your pains, or if her love overpowered the pain you felt, all you knew was you felt happier and better in her arms.

"i love you." Billie whispered.

"i love you too." You whispered back, your smile audible in your voice.

Billie placed another tender kiss against your head, sighing in content as she smiled fondly down at her girl.

𖦹 ☼ ⋆｡˚⋆ฺ ♡

[lorasdolly]

Thought of some fluff with Ambessa.

Ambessa with a reader who never learned how to care for their curly hair properly. Their hair is similar but due to circumstances, reader just never learned how to manage/properly care for their curls and it shows.

— 🦌

𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐑 𝐃𝐀𝐘

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

𝗰𝘂𝗿𝗹𝘆 𝗵𝗮𝗶𝗿 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝘅 𝗮𝗺𝗯𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗮 𝗺𝗲𝗱𝗮𝗿𝗱𝗮

Ambessa's hands engrossed you in the bath, her legs spread as you sat inbetween them. Your back was up against her chest, both nude but in the hot water. Your eyes fluttered clothes as her hands massaged your scalp, bubbling up with the shampoo she used.

You hummed, feeling her broad figure behind yours. Ambessa had recently commented on your hair, wondering why she'd never seen you take care of it.

Your first response was to whine and complain about her bluntness, but she didn't give you a chance to before she was dragging you into a bath.

It wasn't the worst thing, she started whispering sweet things in you ear as she washed your hair. She took the shower head, gently rinsing the shampoo off and kissing the top of your head.

She repeated that once again, then lathered your hair in conditioner, only using her own products on your hair. "You didn't have to do this, 'Bessa." You said gently, leaning into her touch.

"And why not? Aren't I allowed to care for you?" She spoke, not paying much mind to your words. Her hands worked magic, nearly falling asleep in her arms.

"It's embarrassing," She scoffed at your words, grabbing your chin gently to turn your face, both of your eyes meeting. "It's embarrassing that you had to call me out on something like this."

Her thumb traced small circles on the side of your chin, "You need not to be ashamed. That's why I'm here." She reassured. Her hand let go of your chin, moving to rinse the conditioner too.

You shift awkwardly once the water pressure is turned off and she drains the bath, wrapping you in a towel and then herself. "Have you ever used any creams on your hair, dear?" She asked, using a smaller towel to dry you hair a tad bit.

"I— I've tried but they don't work." She chuckles softly, grabbing a few things and setting them down on the sink. Her hands wrap around you, moving to your under thighs. "Around me, dearest."

Your arms go around her neck, soon hoisted up by her onto the other side of the sink. She detangles it in sections, cooing softly in your ear.

She gets a generous amount of cream, apply it in the same sections tenderly. She notices the way you drift off, staring into her eyes without any focus. "Are you going to learn or will I be having to do it for you every time?" She says playfully.

You snap out of the trance, focusing on her movements. "Perhaps." You say, eyes flickering.

"Perhaps, what, dear? Perhaps I'll do this each time?" She questions, washing her hands in the sink, both of you still in your towels, yours slightly coming off.

She kisses your forehead, "Do you want it to air dry, dear?" Her voice is mellow against your forehead, her hands adjusting the towel.

You nod softly, wrapping your arms around her so she could hoist you up again into her arms, "Can we watch a movie, 'Bessa?"

She chuckles throatily, quickly thinking about how her routines have changed since she's been with you, accommodating her life to yours. "Alright."

(𝗔-𝗡 ; 𝗽𝗹𝘀 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗴𝗶𝘃𝗲 𝗮𝗻𝘆 𝗼𝗳 𝗺𝘆 𝗽𝗼𝗼𝗿 𝗸𝗻𝗼𝘄𝗹𝗲𝗱𝗴𝗲 𝗼𝗻 𝗰𝘂𝗿𝗹𝘆 𝗵𝗮𝗶𝗿 𝗺𝗮𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝗮𝗻𝗰𝗲 😩 𝗳𝗲𝗲𝗹 𝗳𝗿𝗲𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝗰𝗼𝗿𝗿𝗲𝗰𝘁 𝗺𝗲 𝗮𝗻𝘆𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲)

[averycutesalamander]

from the prompt list, for my bestie <3 gn reader ! 29: Tucking their hair behind their ear.

Sometimes Boothill could swear that the universe itself is trying to inconvenience him at every possible turn. 

He's on his way back home to you after an exceptionally long absence; too many time-sensitive missions got stacked on top of each other, and he hasn't had a single day to spare with all of this running around. (He's found that he gets especially cranky when he's kept away from you for too long; he has to wonder if the poor bastards he's been shooting can tell.) 

There's some kind of issue with the dock he usually uses on your planet, though, so he's been forced to find somewhere else discreet to land his ship; it took him a good few hours to even find somewhere that he's confident won't sell him out. When he texted you saying he'd get home late, he wasn't quite expecting it to be this late. It's well after midnight by the time he finally manages to land, and he has to fight to keep his irritation in check. He's weary and tired and pissed off and he misses you like a prisoner misses the sun, so he makes the walk to your home in record time. 

He opens the front door quietly, retracting his spurs just before he steps inside. He wipes off his feet as he settles his hat on the rack, carefully tuning his hearing to track down your heartbeat; he finds its comforting rhythm in the living room, slow and even. Sleeping, if he had to guess. The house is quiet and the lights are off; you probably passed out before dusk. 

Sure enough, when he turns the corner, he finds you asleep on the couch; you're still in your day clothes, your phone cradled against your chest. His chest aches, just as it always does when he lays eyes on you again after coming back home; it's like he's just shaken a heavy weight off of his shoulders, and suddenly, everything is right in the world. A quiet pang of guilt echoes in his chest, though; he hates making you wait like this, even if he's twice as pissed about it as you. 

(You never, ever complain about things like this. The most you do is playfully grouch, but you never seem to lose your patience with him. He doesn't know how to handle it.)

He crouches by your side, his gaze soft with affection. Tenderly, he tucks your hair behind your ear, smiling gently when you sleepily crack open your eyes to look at him.

“You've been waitin’ out here this whole time, sweetheart?” He tilts his head, watching as your lashes flutter. “I told ya to head to bed if I didn't get here in time.”

“Didn't feel right,” you mumble, sighing in apparent bliss when he cups your cheek, your skin hot against his metal. “Wanted to stay up until you got here.”

(Fuck, you're too sweet for him. He's not sure what he did to deserve someone as lovely as you.)

“C'mon, then,” he murmurs, soft and fond. “Let's get ya into bed.”

You hum absently, nuzzling harder into his palm, and his heart pangs with some kind of feeling he can't quite name – something bigger than fondness, but warmer than endearment. Gently, he scoops you up into his arms, careful to support your head as your fingers twist lightly in his jacket; you don't tense in the slightest as he lifts you, and something about the sheer weight of your trust has his throat feeling tight. 

He moves you to the bedroom, careful to avoid bumping you on the doorframe. The room is dark, lit only by the sliver of moonlight that streams through the closed curtains, but he doesn't have any trouble navigating in the dark. (When he first gave up his body, he certainly hadn't predicted that he'd be using his night vision for something as banal and loving as this.) He shifts you over so he can cradle you in one arm, pulling back the blankets with the other and settling you gently onto the bed. 

(You always look so damn pretty; it drives him crazy. You look like an angel, your face all soft with sleep and your body lax with exhaustion. His heart aches from the force of his adoration.)

“Lemme get some clothes for ya, sweetheart. Can't imagine that's all that comfy,” he murmurs, and the only sign that you're awake is the soft grunt that you reply with. Adorable. 

He rummages in your dresser for a moment, plucking out the pajamas that he knows you find the comfiest. Then, he returns to your side, carefully and gently guiding your clothes off of you; he can tell that you're trying to help, but your tired squirming is ultimately more of a hindrance when he's just manhandling you anyway. (He can't say he minds. You're too damn cute when you're tired.) Finally, once you're bare, he eases you into your sleep clothes, easy and familiar. Then, he tucks you carefully under the blankets and sits by your side, smiling gently at the way you sigh and hunker down into the plushness of your pillow. 

He leans down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, almost certain that you've already fallen back asleep. You surprise him when he stands back up, though. 

“Don't go,” you whine, simultaneously theatrically and genuinely dramatic. “Get in. Wanna hold you.” 

You reach out with one fumbling hand, clearly intending to grab onto him; he smiles fondly as he links his fingers with yours, snickering as he settles back onto the edge of the mattress. 

“I'm just gonna wash up real quick, sunshine.” He strokes his thumb across your knuckles, quietly savoring the blissful heat of your palm against his metal. “I'll be back in a jiffy.”

“Don't care,” you grouch flatly. “Get in.”

He chuckles harder, delight blooming in his chest as he raises his brows. “Even though I smell like a fudgin’ barn?”

“Don't care.” He can tell you're starting to drift off again, because you're slurring so badly that he almost can't discern what you're saying. “You smell like you, and I love you, so I like it. Get in the damn bed or I'll never let you give me head again.”

He spies a smile creeping onto your face when he laughs, bright and earnest. “Well, that'd be a mighty shame for both of us, so I guess I gotta get in,” he drawls, his heart soft with affection. 

You make a pleased noise, and when he carefully loosens his grip on your hand, you let him go without fuss. Moving to his side of the bed, he starts to systematically remove all of his clothes, his pins rattling softly as he shucks off his jacket and his belt clinking as he tosses it away. His gun is placed lovingly on the nightstand on his side of the bed, and he removes the unpleasant casing on his left arm, familiar and easy. 

When he's bare – it's a shared preference when you cuddle him – he lifts the blankets and slips into bed beside you. You flipped to face him when he was getting undressed, so when he draws you into his arms, you latch onto him seamlessly; you move with him as he shifts onto his back, keeping you cradled against his chest as you straddle him. The moment you get settled, the two of you sigh in open bliss; your weight on top of him is practically euphoric after such a long absence, and the heat of your body practically sings in his wires. 

“I love you, sweetpea,” he murmurs, pressing his lips to your temple, his body going limp as he breathes in your scent – the smell of warmth, of home, of love. 

You make a series of unintelligible noises that he thinks is supposed to be, “I love you too.”

He smiles, soft and foolishly lovestruck. He tracks the steady beat of your heart, his breathing following yours as you drift back into sleep, warm and content. 

It's good to be home. 

[dalliancekay]

"Just because you're paranoid doesn't mean they aren't after you.”

Joseph Heller, Catch-22

I don't yet know how to explain this... And will probably mess it up. But I think that in fiction, sometimes in life too* and in my case, obviously particularly I'm talking about Good Omens here - people often forget that if something terrible does not happen, that it was going to be fine all along** and the character who was worried about it, was overreacting (being stupid, cowardly, uncool, wimp, sissy etc etc).

It was @seaweednpeanuts who put this idea in my head and now I'm trying to express my thoughts on it.

You know how people tend to joke that Aziraphale and Crowley do nothing in S1 and are completely useless and isn't that hilarious, but aww, we love them anyway, the two idiots etc? Sure, it's funny but it's also not true.

When Aziraphale says:

He doesn't mean - 'we are completely useless'.

He means they messed up as far as it goes for things they were supposed to be doing. And even thought they were doing. They didn't double check they were raising the right baby for example; they perhaps could have (but Adam grew up the best human he could have been - by well.... sheer accident? Fate? God's actual Plan?).

If they weren't both so good and kind and dither so much trying to find other ways to stop the Armageddon (I’m looking at you Aziraphale), they could have found Adam in Tadfield and kill him. And if they were truly with their respective sides... well, it all would have gone very differently too.

That's one thing.

They messed up, sure, as far as big grand Ineffable Plans go and nothing went the way they imagined (or were told) but they still played an important role in bringing the whole Armageddon and War plan down. The point is, that everyone there did. In some way. From Anathema to Adam's dad.

Just because it was fine in the end doesn't mean a real possibility of Armageddon wasn't there. Not unless you want to take away all the agency away from Az and Crowley (which is the eternal debate over an omniscient God anyway).

And it's the same across millennia. Just because Aziraphale is extremely cautious about his words, Crowley's words, their actions and the possibility of them being watched or overheard and punished for working together, doesn't mean that the possibility wasn't always there.

It doesn't even mean that the possibility couldn't still be there.

GIF by @i-seeaspaceshipinthe-sky

They aren't safe. They've never been safe and there was never anywhere to hide or run to.

And Crowley knows that too.

"You'll be amazed at the kind of things they can do to you, down there," he said. "I imagine they're very similar to the sort of things they can do to one up there," said Aziraphale. "Come off it. Your lot get ineffable mercy," said Crowley sourly. "Yes? Did you ever visit Gomorrah?" "Sure," said the demon. "There was this great little tavern where you could get these terrific fermented date-palm cocktails with nutmeg and crushed lemongrass-" "I meant afterwards." "Oh."

They have suffered already so much; even if they did manage to keep their Earth jobs and their friendship for over 6000 years. Their existence was always fragile.

Aziraphale gets blamed so very often for how cautious he is.

I hate it when this line gets weaponised against Aziraphale. (Yes, I admit, even in fics.) Because, he has nothing to apologise for. He couldn't have done anything differently. There is no way Crowley could would e v e r blame him for saying no to a date. For never saying out loud how he really felt. What he really wanted.

Those things were impossible. And even though Crowley offered, if you actually watch his face after Aziraphale refuses, he is not angry or bitter or offended (as many metas and posts would have him feel). He's sad and thoughtful. Because Crowley knows exactly how much he is loved and cared for by that refusal.

F15 is so tragic because once again, Aziraphale is reminded they are not free. That they are not safe and they have not been left alone.

And this time

he's truly furious about it.

*Controversial perhaps, but you know all those feel-good posts and quotes about asking people in retirement homes or something what'd they have done differently and what are their biggest regrets and they all say (or at least the published picks say) some sort of - I wish I worked less, tried less hard to make money, spent more time with kids and family etc...

Well those can fuck right off. Because I believe that most people would absolutely want to spend more time with their friends and kids and family and less time at work and constantly worrying about money. But that's not how life works, is it. Just because I was lucky so far and managed to pay all bills somehow, doesn't mean that I can just stop worrying about them, does it. Next time, I'd love to know the places these quotes are coming from. Just because Donald didn't spend time with family and is now dying alone doesn't mean his regrets and have anything to do with Tom on the other side of town who worked 3-4 jobs at a time his whole life and his biggest regret anyway is not trying harder (he couldn't have tried any harder) so his kid wouldn't have to work part-time job while at uni. Donald was always a jerk and his regret should be that he was a jerk and didn't pay his taxes so people could stress less about what happens when they lose a job.

Anyway. Rant over.

I know Aziraphale will win his love and his freedom and his happiness. But that doesn't mean that his worries and his caution and his anxiety were ever unfounded.

** When Gabriel claims that most things are fine in the end, he's not exactly contributing to it, is he. It's Aziraphale's stubbornness and caution that keeps him safe.

[strwbrychffoncke]

"won't you stop with that look on your face?,, 2k words synopsis: zayne & caleb taking care of you..... contains: lnds zayne + caleb x f!reader (she/her used ,mc!coded) ,sick!reader ,worried!caleb ,doctor!zayne moment ,bickering (zayne + caleb) ,one use of "gege" ,you bicker w caleb ,caleb makes u tea ,kinda smug!zayne at the end ,v annoyed caleb LOL ,i think thats it note: (not edited!) another late night braindump of mine (short n sweet this time cause i started falling asleep while writing it lol??) this can be read as a sequel to "baby ,i care for you,, but can also be read by itself :x

-

the door to your cozy home doesn't allow more than three knocks to resound through the hardwood before its swung open for the guest by a certain impatient pilot.

"took you long enough," he frowns at the man standing at the entrance.

"apologies, i still had one last round of check-ins and was in the middle of handling some paperwork when you called. how is she?"

caleb sidesteps from the entrance as zayne maneuvers past him, letting himself inside the familiar home, slipping off his shoes at the doorway. caleb shuts the door before whirling around towards the indifferent doctor.

"in her room, where i've been taking good care of her the past couple of days."

caleb's voice is filled with pride as he leads zayne down the hall (not that he didn't know where it was already after so many years), filling the doctor both wild mild irritation and exasperation.

"you say that, yet you're the one who yelled at me to make a home visit to check on her."

caleb scoffs as they both arrive at your door, caleb gently pushing it open and entering with zayne following close behind.

you're sitting up in bed, sipping on some water when the two men from your childhood walk in, causing you to perk up as much as you can in your fatigued state.

caleb approaches the bed first, mattress dipping as he takes back his seat on the edge where he'd been accompanying you before, patting your head as you recap the bottle.

"doctor's here, finally" he mutters the last word but you catch it, causing a pleasant laugh to bubble up, the sound easing both men's concern for you, if even just slightly.

zayne approaches from the other side, assessing your condition from what he can see- immediately noticing your slightly-shivering form despite the blanket wrapped around your shoulders and comforter scrunched in your lap- before reaching a hand out to lay across your forehead to check your temperature.

"how are you feeling?"

his deep voice is soft, especially soothing to you that you know you could drift off easily if he continued speaking.

"i'm okay, really" you peer up at him, throat still slightly scratchy as you're still recovering from the initial soreness from a few days prior. "gege's just overreacting," you tease, reassuring smile making zayne crack a grin.

"i'm not- you're not fine!" caleb insists before turning to zayne.

"she's been sick for almost a week now, a week! that's way too long!"

"you seem to have a mild fever," zayne tells you, drawing his hand back, continuing to assess your physical condition before he responds to the agitated pilot.

"did you forget that, for how little she falls ill, this is usually the standard?"

his soft touches travel down your neck to your shoulders and down your arms, checking for any discomfort as he continues.

"shouldn't you, of all people, know that the best?"

caleb grits his teeth at the doctor's jab as he watches his hands examine you, looking at the way your shallow breaths escape your parted lips as you glance between the two.

you're only listening to their bickering, but you're too tired to think about intervening right now.

"of course i do, but when she's had an ongoing fever the whole time with congestion, and now a cough with headache and body aches when it first started as a sore throat, do you expect me not to worry?" he spits, pointed gaze aimed straight at zayne.

"it hasn't broken at all?" he looks up at you for an answer.

you're about to speak when caleb answers for you.

"no!"

zayne hums, unraveling the stethoscope from his neck, placing the earpieces in place before sliding the cool metal down your shirt, a small apology escaping him as you shudder at the feeling before checking your heartbeat.

"but it hasn't been consistent in temperature, correct?"

"nope."

zayne urges you to take a deep breath.

"its simply an indication that her body is having some difficulty fighting off the illness. since its gradually gotten better, i wouldn't say its something to worry about."

he moves the stethoscope, urging another deep breath from you.

"but-"

"in any case, for how good her immune system is at keeping her healthy, the drawback is that her body is quite vulnerable when sickness comes, so it usually lasts longer."

he moves the metal to your back to check once more, asking for one more deep breath.

"i understand your worry since her condition worsened before improving. but most of the symptoms have subsided, yes?" he's looking at you again when he asks this, and this time, caleb lets you answer.

you nod quickly before responding properly.

"yes! i had a headache when i woke up today, but it went away really quickly. otherwise, my cough has gotten better, and i'm still struggling with congestion," you unconsciously sniffle, driving your point. "i guess i've still been a little tired too? but i'm feeling much better than before!"

satisfied with his findings of everything being normal and reassured by your own words, zayne smiles down at you before withdrawing the stethoscope, turning his gaze to caleb fully once more.

"i thought you knew her better than anyone, why make a fuss about it all of a sudden?"

caleb's eyes narrow at the jab.

he's doing it on purpose.

"because, she-"

your harsh coughs halt their conversation, sleeved arm coming up to cover your mouth as both men's heads snap towards you.

the coughing fit is gone as quickly as it came, and thats when you notice their concerned gazes boring into you.

"don't you think that cough sounds pretty bad, doctor?"

"it's nothing extreme. you're taking medicine for it, yes?"

you nod.

"yeah," caleb pipes up, jabbing a thumb into his chest before continuing. "i've been giving her medicine for her throat, fevers, and even allergy medicine this entire time."

"he made me take so many pills... save me, zayne~" you sulk up at him; he gives a fond look in return.

"hey, it was for your own good!"

"you tried to feed me six different pills at once!"

"maybe because you needed all of them! do you really expect me to believe you would have taken any medicine on your own?"

zayne sighs at the two of you

just like usual. some things never change...

you huff out a breath, pout adorning your face.

"caleb?"

"hm? yeah?" he perks up, eyes glued to you awaiting your next words.

"can you make me some tea?"

"anything in particular?"

"chamomile?"

"sure thing, i'll be right back," he ruffled your hair again, side eyeing zayne as he passes him before he's out the door.

you let out a sigh, and zayne's eyes are locked onto yours.

"sorry to make you come out here, you must be tired," your words are remorseful, feeling guilty for, in a sense, making him work overtime.

"i told caleb i was fine, but he wouldn't listen. he was actually upset with me at first since i didn't tell him i was sick and had to find out himself when he came home and saw me," you share bashfully, thinking back to his worried expression and stern tone.

"well, i can understand him a bit," zayne's eyes drape over your bundled figure. "a certain hunter likes to think they're invincible, and isn't exactly the best at looking over their health."

"hey! i did take medicine the first two days, y'know?"

"did you take them consistently?"

crap, he got you there.

"well..."

"figures."

"you're so mean!" you whine, but the doctor only chuckles.

"well, if you're saying this, then i have no doubt you'll be fully recovered in another couple of days."

at that moment, caleb steps back in with a slightly steaming mug in hand, slowly walking over the the free side of the bed to hand it to you.

"here you are, pipsqueak, just the way you like it!"

"thank youuu," you smile, reaching out to grip the mug with both hands.

"careful, it may still be a little hot."

you nod, allowing the warmth seeping through the mug to warm your hands before taking a small sip.

a little sigh of relief escapes you, and the three of you engage in quiet conversation, neither man wanting to leave your side quite yet despite knowing that you were completely okay.

-

its later in the evening, your tea long finished, using the last remnants of it to wash down some medicine administered by caleb (who had nudged you before you drifted off, not letting you sleep until you took the medicine for your own good he repeated as you washed them down with the still-warm tea).

after that, it didn't take long for you to doze off to the hushed voices of your two favorite people, breaths evening out as you floated off into the land of dreams.

its silent for awhile after that, two pairs of eyes watching over you when caleb suddenly turns towards zayne.

"so? she's really fine?"

zayne's eyes drift towards the source of the voice.

"yes, so long as she keeps taking her medicine, she'll continue recovering well," he adjusts his glasses before continuing. "and anyway, from the looks of it she just seems to have caught a bad cold. the symptoms can last for a week or so; its really nothing to worry about."

caleb lets out a breath he didn't realize he had been holding.

what a relief.

zayne, figuring its about time to go home himself, stands from his spot, checking that he has everything on him when he speaks up again.

"its not the first time she's gotten sick like this. why were you so worried this time?"

caleb thinks for a long moment before settling on his answer.

"seeing her so weak and tired was just so..." he trails off, eyes taking on a distant look in them. "it'd just been awhile. even if i knew she would be fine, it was just.."

zayne nods, understanding crossing his features.

"i know what you mean." he glances over at your peaceful slumbering figure once again. "at least she had you to take care of her. who knows what her condition may be if she were left alone like this?"

caleb clicks his tongue at the thought.

"terrible, that's for sure. she really can't be trusted to take care of herself, especially not when she's sick."

"i'll be on my way now. even though the chances are low, if anything changes, don't hesitate to call me."

"sure," caleb nods, standing from his spot as well as he begins walking zayne to the door.

"thanks for coming over and checking her out."

"its no problem, it puts my own mind at ease as well."

zayne slips on his shoes before speaking up again.

"i'll check back in tomorrow. try not to fuss to much until then."

"ha-ha, whatever you say, doctor zayne."

"and next time, maybe don't yell so loudly through the line. i was momentarily concerned for my eardrums, and it certainly couldn't have been good for her headaches."

caleb feels irritation replacing the gratitude he'd felt just moments ago.

"sure, i'll keep that in mind."

zayne adjusts his sleeves before speaking again.

"though, since you know her best, i'm sure you could figure out what's good for her and what isn't, especially when she's like this."

the faintest smirk curls on the edge of zayne's lips at the growing scowl on caleb's face.

"you-!"

"well then, i'll see you in the morning. goodnight."

zayne's exit is curt as he exits through the door, all too satisfied at the reactions he drew out of caleb.

on the other hand, the deepspace pilot wanted to yell in frustration (though, managed to refrain from doing so at the reminder that you were fast asleep just a few doors down).

instead, only an annoyed groan escapes his throat as he clenches his fists, one singular thought circulating his mind:

that guy was really so annoying!

-

a/n: almost completely recovered ,this idea came to me after seeing sm posts ab zayne/caleb beef or everyone hoping that their beef would be crazy LOL -