#third person reader

[lightofthemoonglow]

𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬. well, i do feel better now that you're here.

Leslie Vernon

Notes: third person reader. Part of my Amorous August series. Contains some mild spice, general feelings of unease. Never forget that Leslie is a killer and schemer.

--

The back door is unlocked.

She’s standing there, hands wrapped around a warm mug of tea. The smell of blueberry wafts up as she watches the door waver slightly, pushed inwards by the wind that’s just picked up. Shaking, she moves to close it, practically slamming the lock in place, doublechecking it to be sure that it’s locked before she retreats into the kitchen. The radio on the counter is playing an emergency weather report, which is rather redundant at the moment, since the wind is starting to howl.

Shivering even though it’s not even cold, she goes to check one of the counter drawers, hands shaking as she rifles through it. This isn’t the first time that something like this has happened. Weird things have been happening around the house lately and since she lives alone in the middle of nowhere, it’s been putting her on edge. Some of her clothes have been going missing. Doors are unlocked or open when they shouldn’t be. Someone left an apple on the passenger seat of her locked car.

And now all of her big knives are missing.

The screech of the wind drowns out her own little cry of terror. The mug of tea is knocked over as she scrambles to grab her phone, praying that the call gets through. There’s only one person she can call right now and when he answers, she nearly starts sobbing out of relief.

“Leslie, oh thank god you’re home. Can you please come over? Something weird is happening and I’m so scared…”

His voice is warm at the other end of the line. “I’ll be right over.”

--

The wind is screaming when Leslie shows up on her porch, holding a battery operated lantern in one hand and a plastic bag in the other. “I brought ice cream,” he says as a greeting, their bodies brushing together as he goes inside at the same time she moves to close the door. The locks are triple checked and she even jams a chair under the knob to be sure. “So, how are you feeling?”

“Well, I do feel better now that you're here.” She smiles awkwardly, hugging herself. “It’s just…I can’t believe this is happening to me. Whatever this exactly is.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m here and I’ll make sure you’re safe.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

--

Of course, that entails being in the same room. Just to be extra safe, the room is the bedroom, because no one can sneak up on them there and there is an ensuite bathroom, so they don’t have to leave the room. There’s only one bed, obviously, but that’s fine. It’s more than fine.

She kisses him first, tentative and nervous. The lights are flickering as she presses her lips against his and they go out for good when Leslie kisses her back. Tree branches scratch against the window as they fall back onto them mattress, no longer listening to the radio. They’re gasping into each other’s mouths, hungry for something that only the other could provide as lightning illuminates the room. She’s wet, he’s hard and fear is somehow working as an aphrodisiac, so it pushes them forward.

Afterwards, she falls asleep, a little smile on her face. Leslie watches her for a few moments before he gets up to head downstairs. Looks like he won’t need to mess with the basement door now. Things went better than expected tonight. Leslie had only intended to scare her a little, get her to call and for them to just spend the night together in a literal, platonic sense.

Tomorrow morning, before she wakes up, he’ll get the bag of knives from under the shed and put them by the back door. If it scares her enough for her to want to spend the night at his place, he’s not going to complain.

[sexlapis]

✧. ┊  5 TIMES YOU SAT ON NANAMI’S LAP

── .✦ nanami kento x gn!reader

s4w, fluff, cuddling, teasing, petnames, hand feeding, ooc nanami, sitting on nanami’s lap

⤷ nanami’s lap is your favourite seat. luckily for you, he is fine with being your…chair.

based off this post

a/n: #needthat #wantthat #sexyman #hotguy

[_____] = your name

masterlists

*

1 - NAP TIME

The rain droplets pelleting on the living room windows is what wakes you up, along with the deep chuckle of thunder that follows shortly afterwards.

One second it was all sunny with bright skies and now, it is dim and dark, and the only light in the room emanates from the television.

You do not remember putting this show on. You don’t remember falling asleep on the couch, either.

“Oh, look who’s awake.”

You sit up and there Nanami is, sitting opposite you on the couch, in his comfortable loungewear.

“Hey, I was watching that…” You mumble tiredly. A yawn escapes you. You rub your eyes.

“You were asleep when I came back, you know.”

“Yeah but…” you trail off. “When did you even come back?”

“An hour ago. I was excited to get my ‘welcome home’ kiss but instead, here you were; fast asleep and snoring like a bear.”

“I do not snore like a bear!”

Nanami grins and rests his back on the couch. “Don’t I get my kiss now?”

“…You called me a bear.”

“No, I said you sounded-“”

“Yeah, whatever, that’s the same thing.”

“Well, not r-“”

He’s interrupted by your unexpected crawl across the couch and sitting in his lap, covering the both of you with a blanket.

You rest your head on his shoulder.

“Do i still get my kiss-“”

“Oh shut up.”

2 - OFFICE HOURS

A knock on his door shocks Nanami out of his focus. “Come in.”

His office door opens and you appear, wearing your baggy pyjamas and dragging a blanket across the floor.

“_____…I’ve told you that you don’t need to knock. You’re the only other person who lives here.”

“Yeah, but it seems rude to just barge in so…” you waddle towards his desk where he sits, papers scattered all over his desk, “What are you doing?”

“Just some paperwork. Nothing interesting.”

“Yes, I know that part.” You respond to his last two words. “There’s a calculator…”

He lets out an amused huff. “What brings you here then?”

You shrug. “‘M bored…wanted to see what you were doing.”

“Sorry to disappoint, but I don’t think my paperwork will entertain you very much, baby.”

“Well…” You start. “I’m not exactly here for the paperwork…”

You’re now stood right beside Nanami and you peek at his empty lap.

Nanami notices. Nanami sighs.

He tucks out of his desk, just enough for his lap to be shown, and he only has to pat his thighs twice before your hopping right into it.

“Comfortable?” You shuffle in his lap, looking for the right position. It’s found, and you lean back to rest your back against his wide chest, blanket covering you legs.

“Yeah, I’m comfy.”

Nanami kisses your temple, and goes back to completing his work, which lulls you to sleep due to how absolutely boring it is.

3 - OVERTIME

Nanami heard keys fiddling with the door while he is on his laptop in the kitchen. He hears a loud, annoyed groan.

Must have been a long day for you.

Shoes are thrown onto the floor, along with your bag and your coat is flung onto the rack.

You trod to the doorway of the living room and Nanami’s sees how tired and disheveled you look.

“Hey, sweetheart.”

You only respond with a grumble.

“Hard day?”

Another grumble from you.

“Do you want to tell me all about it?”

A jumpy grumble clambers out of your mouth as you dash over to him and plop down on his inviting lap.

“Ugh, Kenny…these people…”

He rubs circles on you back, gently coaxing the complaints out of you.

“They’re so…they’re just so stupid.”

Nanami can’t help but chuckle at your bluntness and your genuine sadness at your coworkers’s stupidity.

“Seriously, they are! And don’t even get me started on that damn boss.”

So Nanami listens to you rant about your dumb coworkers while he just relishes in having you sit in his lap.

4 - GATHERINGS

On the rare occasion that you and Nanami organise a friend and family gathering, this time in the form of a barbecue, it is a success.

More people than you were both expecting showed up and your backyard was filled with music, friends, family members, chatter, kids running around and the smell of mouth-watering, flavourful meat.

The gathering lasts from noon until late evening, at which most people have left and the only ones who still lingered were close friends.

“Kento.” You walked up to where he sat on the outdoor couch, speaking to one of his work colleagues whose name you have forgotten. Something beginning with a ‘H’, you think?

“Hey, sweetheart.” He pauses his conversation to talk to you. “Are you tired?”

You were tired. You had been preparing the food, offering the food, playing with the kids, speaking to guests and now you feel the weight of all your hard work.

“I did not expect that many people to show up…”

“No, me neither. You did a great job, baby.” He huffs with a shake of his head. He then spreads his legs, more than they already are. “Do you want to rest?”

You are in in lap before he even finishes his sentence. Seriously, he does not finish his sentence.

He smiles at your urgency, admiring how cute you look curled up in his lap, your cheek squished up against his chest.

He takes a knitted blanket and throws it over your body, protecting you from the slight chill in the night air.

Nanami continues to speak to his friend, quieter now that you’re here, and caresses the back of your neck.

5 - BREAKFAST

“Kento, I’m- what’s all this?”

After spending a short time searching for Nanami, you find him outside in your colourful, shared garden. He sits on the garden chair, and on the medium-sized round table is a well prepared, delectable breakfast.

“Hm? Oh. This is breakfast.”

“Breakfast? But Kenny, I-“” You look down at your phone, checking the time, “I have to get to work-“”

“Call in late.”

You frown. “But-“”

“It’s such a nice morning, isn’t it?” He looks to the sky, taking a sip of his tea before looking at you. “Spend it with me.”

Well, he wasn’t wrong.

It was warm outside with beams of sunlight peaking through the gaps of the blooming blossom tree Nanami is stationed under. A gentle breeze curled through the air, the harmonic birdsong twinkled in your ears and the aroma of sweet-scented pastries wafted under your nose.

It did not take much to convince you.

“Okay. I’ll stay, but remind me to leave in thirty minutes.”

Nanami exhales and smiles, all soft and tender. “I’m glad. Come here, take a seat.”

Your stomach rumbles as you walk to sit in the garden chair opposite Nanami. He stops you.

“Where are you going?”

“Uhm…to sit down?”

“Oh, no, no…come sit on Kento’s lap, sweetheart. I want you to try this danish pastry,” he breaks off a piece so you can have some, “it’s my mother’s recipe.”

Ignoring your heart skipping a beat at how he referred to himself, you sit on his thigh, and he wraps an arm around your hip. He holds the piece of pastry to your mouth.

“Try a piece.”

You open your mouth and allow him to place it on you tongue, you lips briefly touching his fingertips. You laugh a little, flustered as you chew on the sweet treat. He licks his fingertip, the same one your lips touched.

“Do you like it?”

“Hmm! It’s very sweet!” You are glad you said yes to this. Work could handle you being a little late.

“Good.” Nanami shuffles forward in his chair, bringing you closer to the table of food. He kisses your shoulder and runs his hands up and down your waist. “Come on, eat up. You have a long day ahead of you.”

Nanami did not remind you to leave in those thirty minutes.

*

૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა

[gold-onthe-inside]

gingerbread kisses

who? spencer reid (s4) x bau!reader

summary: your first christmas as a couple with spencer involves baking, construction, and lots and lots of kisses

word count: 1.9k

content warnings: oral (f receiving), spencer calls r 'sweet girl', minors dni

"Yours looks so much better than mine," you whined, looking over at Spencer's gingerbread house, perfectly cut panels holding together to form a house while yours sagged at an angle.

"It's not that bad," he replied, if only to make you feel better and shifted closer to see if he could fix the angle of it, and you peered over his shoulder, watching his nimble fingers carefully adjust the panels, reapplying icing like it was glue. "There," Spencer said, pulling his hands away... and then it sagged lower and he frowned at it, puzzled, and you stifled a giggle against his shoulder at his utter confusion. Your nose pressed into his soft woollen sweater, arms wrapping around him. "Maybe if I--"

"Just leave it," you told him, kissing his cheek, your lip balm sticky against his warm skin. Even now, 6 months into dating, his cheeks flushed at your kiss, and he looked down at you, chasing your lips, his hands finding your cheeks, fingers equally sticky with icing. It was always so earnest, filled with as much longing as the first time you'd kissed him. He doesn’t want to let go when he pulls away, but then there's a streak of icing on your cheek and he can't help a wince.

"Sorry," he said, oblivious to your dazed look, moving to wipe his hands and you let out another soft groan of protest at the loss of him, only for him to come back to gently wipe your cheeks clean. "Can I tell you something?" he asked, looking at you intently.

"Always," you replied with your sweet smile and adoring gaze.

"This is the best Christmas I've ever had," he said, putting the cloth away, and you wished you could express how much you loved him in this moment, but you've never been as articulate with your affection as him. So you do what you know best; you tugged him closer, kissing him. You could live in this moment forever, his lips on yours, sitting on the floor of your apartment. Spencer pressed you back against the couch, his hands seeking your jaw, his tongue darting to your lower lip. He's always careful with you, slow and thoughtful, his thumb gently angling your chin higher.

You parted your lips, his tongue languidly exploring your mouth. His hand carefully slid down your neck, his thumb finding your pulse and he broke for breath, placing warm gentle kisses along your soft jaw. "My sweet girl," he murmured, reaching your ear. "I could do this forever."

Your heart fluttered the way it always did. He’d called you his since the beginning, sweet girl. He’d say it often, a gentle declaration of his affection. His hand slid down, thumb tracing the collar of your sweater, his face buried in your neck as he left his own mark on you, teeth grazing gently against the soft skin and your breath hitched. “God, Spence…” He felt you shift underneath him, already overwhelmed by his touch. Your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging a little when he mouthed at your neck. One of his hands rests on your hip, his thumb brushing the skin under your sweater.

He couldn’t help himself. You felt so warm and soft, so lovely wrapped in his arms. He pushed your sweater up gently, baring more of your skin, his touch warm, and light. He could spend hours just tracing his fingers across your skin. You tasted sweet, like sugar and vanilla, and he shifted, adjusting to slide between your legs. You tilted your head back, looking up at him, your eyes slightly unfocused, lips parted with your heavy breaths. His head dipped, mouth leaving marks along your neck as he pushed your sweater up again, just over your ribs, your breath stuttering as his teeth grazed over the sensitive skin. Your hand fisted in his sweater, a needy whisper escaping you, "Spencer..."

"Let me take care of you," he murmured against your shoulder, pushing your sweater high enough for you to wordlessly lift your arms so he could toss it to one side, and he needed to catch his breath as he looked down at you. He’d seen you a hundred times before, all those soft smooth curves, your soft sighs and breathless gasps that he lived for. You were so trusting in his arms, the way your fingers threaded through his hair, your back arching when his mouth found your stomach, kissing reverently at your soft skin. “So perfect,” he murmured.

You don't have the brainpower to spare to respond with anything other than his name, said so many times that it should have lost its meaning by now, but it never does. The way it came out all breathless and needy, desperate and reverent, the way you’d call his name as he pressed you into the couch, body over yours, pinning you in place as his mouth found your skin, tracing a path along your hip. You pulled uselessly at his sweater, biting your lower lip. “So impatient, my sweet girl,” he murmured, and your whine sent a spark straight through him.

"Want to see you, angel," you pleaded and he couldn’t deny you, even if he wanted to, not when your hands already reached to push under his sweater, your hands warm on his skin and he pulled back, pulling the offending garment off completely. You smiled, looking at him fondly. "Much better," you murmured, shifting up to kiss him again, your warm lips meeting his.

He met you readily, pressing you down again, his body covering yours, a warm comfortable weight. He could never get enough of how you fit against him, the feel of your soft skin against his fingers, the way your mouth moved against him, sweet and willing. The way your legs moved to wrap around him. "Okay if I take this off?" he whispered, hands finding the waistband of your pyjama pants, beige with little cookies printed over them, hot breath fanning over your face, eyes watching you as you nod. He slid the soft material down your legs, leaving you bare before him. It was a view he loved, all your bare skin, all his to touch and explore.

Your breath hitched as his hands gently nudged your thighs further apart, and he slowly sank onto his knees between them. You let out a small groan involuntarily, just at the sight of him between your thighs. "Angel..."

He shushed you gently, fingers tracing circles on your thighs, so close to where you wanted him. His eyes roamed over you, taking in every detail, your breathing and the way your legs twitched. “Just relax, my sweet girl,” he murmured, his thumbs rubbing soothing strokes across your skin.

"You're not making it easy," you muttered back.

He couldn’t help the smile at your comment, his hands slowly shifting your legs, lifting them to pull off your panties, and he could feel the way your breath caught, your body shifting slightly to help. He was so close to you he could practically feel your heat against his face. He was still gently running his fingers over the skin of your thighs, trying to keep you calm. “You’re so beautiful,” he said, voice impossibly soft.

His warm breath against you made your head spin, and you were too lost in the feel of his hands and mouth to do anything but gasp his name and tilt your head back. You were so wet, so needy for him, and you couldn’t help the way your legs shifted, pleading for more. He gently nudged at them, spreading you open further for him. He looked up at you, eyes dark with desire, the sight of you underneath him, leaning back against the foot of the couch, your chest heaving and your body tense, just for him.

He leaned in, and he didn’t miss the way your body jolted when his tongue licked over you, and he hummed against your skin. You tasted so sweet, so perfect, and he was slowly getting addicted to the taste, his hands holding your thighs in place as he slowly explored you. He’d wanted to make you fall apart, the way you’d done so many times for him, bringing him to the knife’s edge before pulling him over. But he couldn’t wait long, and he pushed forward, his tongue circling before he suddenly thrust forward, tasting as much of you as he could.

The effect was instant, and he felt you jerk against him, your gasp turning into a long moan. The sound made his hands squeeze at your thighs, wanting you closer. You were always so responsive to him, so sensitive, and you were already on edge from his light teasing. He loved the sounds you made, all those soft noises that you seemed unable to help when he was like this. He loved the way your skin felt under his hands, the way you would pull and tug at his hair when he was teasing you. He loved the way you felt, warm and soft all around him. He loved you, and he wanted you to fall apart. He was almost relentless, tongue working over you, delving into you, wanting you to come completely undone.

He didn’t want to pull away, wanted to keep going, to take you as close as he could, but you were already teetering on the edge, so close to climax. He loved how responsive you were, how he could pull those sweet moans and gasps so easily from you with just a few caresses. He wanted to see you come, wanted to feel your body shaking against him. He pulled back for a second, breathless, his voice already wrecked from how sweet you sounded, “Come for me, my sweet girl."

Your fingers scrabbled for his hair, needing something to hold onto as he brought you through your climax, his tongue not leaving you until you were begging him to stop, your body sensitive and overwhelmed. He let his hands gently trail across your thighs as you fell back onto the couch, boneless and still quivering. He couldn’t help a little smile at how wrecked you looked, your hair falling over your eyes, your body trembling. And yet you still looked beautiful, your bare body on display for him, your skin flush and warm. He shifted forward, his lips gently kissing your stomach and travelling up your body, until he laid down on top of you, his weight carefully resting between your legs, his head buried in your neck.

"I love you," you whispered, holding him, your fingers trailing over his back.

He lifted his head at your words, still so touched by your sweetness. After all this time, you still managed to surprise him. He shifted, propping himself up on an elbow to look down at you, his gaze soft and adoring. “I love you more,” he murmured, reaching up to gently brush a strand of hair out of your eyes, fingers tracing the line of your jaw.

"Not possible," you murmured.

He smiled, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “Agree to disagree,” he teased, his hand gently caressing your hair, fingers carding through the messy strands. He liked you like this; soft and pliable in his arms, your body still trembling from your orgasm. His fingers traced down the side of your face, before his knuckles grazed gently over your collarbone, tracing the line of your shoulder.

"You were right," you murmured, looking at him. "Best Christmas ever. Even if I can't build a gingerbread house for the life of me."

He looked at the wreckage of the house, then back to you, hiding a smile. “You’re good at a lot of things, sweetheart, but decorating is just not your strong suit,” he teased and you huffed and shoved at his shoulder in mock offence. He just pulled you on top of him, kissing you deeply all over again.

[dinogoofymutated]

Hi there! I'm currently watching the original X men series to catch up to 97, and I'm in love with Gambit.

Would it be possible to ask for Remy and reader to be on a secret mission, and the Ole "make out so they don't suspect us" trope comes in, and gambit kinda (obviously) has feelings...?

It could be sfw or nsfw, either is perfect! Thank you for all that you do, I've been trying to find fics for the xmen for a while 🙏🙏

Kinda spicy! Gambit/GN!reader

YESS!! YESSSS!!! I legit had a dream about this situation with remy the day before you sent me this ask and I was cackling in joy when I saw this! I basically hyperfixated on it because I love this trope.

TWS: sexual themes n shit, no explicit smut. As always, reader written while picturing fem! but no specific pronouns mentioned. Semi-public making out and touching. Nipples be touched but size and type of breast not mentioned.

-Ps- reader can see heat signatures for plot purposes. I usually try to keep powers ambiguous but it was a NEED!

"In here, quick!" Remy's thick draw catches your attention, just before he yanks you into an alley. The two of you were in New Orleans, looking for a specific mutant Xavier wanted to talk to. The only downside was that Remy still had a warrant out for his arrest, and wanted posters plastered all over the city from bourbon Street to the garden district.

"Don't worry Cher. You said. NOPD 'dumber than a sack of rocks, you said!" You gripe at him. Remy laughs, tugging you around the corner. The alleyways on Burbon street are mostly private areas, owned and sealed off by the bars that line the storefronts- but Remy knew this city like the back of his hand. However, things had changed since he was here last. That became apperent when the two of you reach the end of the alleyway and there's a brand new brick wall, a dead end.

Remy curses and skids to a stop, causing you to slam into his back. You send him a dirty look as you whip around, eyes adjusting to the brick surroundings. It's hard to make out the figures of the cops through the walls of the busy bar in in front of you, too many people crowding the street for drinks even this late at night. You strain your eyes a bit, but are able to make out the stiff-shouldered men, heat signature slightly elevated from booking it after the two of you. Unfortunately, they're headed towards the mouth of the alleyway.

"Damnit." You mutter, turning back to Remy. He understands what you mean just by looking at your face. He hums, thinking for a moment before he begins to take out a playing card. You grab his arm to stop him, trying to ignore how warm his skin is against your own.

"Don't. The explosion will just lead them to us." You say. Remy nodds, glancing at the corner before suddenly caging you against the wall of the alleyway. You try not to blush as he does so. Remy smirks at you, and you think your heart might just explode. You remind yourself that this is standard Remy behavior, but it doesn't stop your face from heating up. You can only hope it's too dark for him to see you properly.

"Well, there is another way we could fool those pigs." Remy says, quieter than before. You cock an eyebrow at him before looking back over in the direction of the alleyways opening, able to spot the cops as they begin to enter. In your peripheral, you see Remy running his fingers through his hair to flatten it. You open your mouth to ask him what he has in mind, but the sound of footsteps cut you off.

"-Well, if you're going to do something, you better do it quick!" You whisper back at him. Remy pushes you further against the cold brick, his hands drifting down to your waist as he leans over to wisper in your ear.

"Trust me, Cher. I'll take care of you." His words cause goosebumps to rise at the back of your neck, and you hardly have time to react before he's kissing you. Your eyes are blown wide, heart thumping wildly as you start to slowly relax into the kiss.

Unsurprisingly, Remy is a really, really good kisser. It's hard to focus while he's touching you like this, kissing you deeply like he loves you. He nips at your lip, and you gasp, having forgotten about everything else already. His tongue darts into you mouth, caressing the skin he finds there. You let out a small moan as one of his hands drifts lower, caressing your thigh and hiking your leg up just a bit. Your own hands slowly slide up his chest, drifting to his neck.

The heat in your chest is unbearable when Gambit separates from the kiss, a string of spit connecting your mouths before he wipes it away, nothing but affection on his eyes. You're panting for breath while he kisses the corner of your mouth, then your cheek, and then lower. Remy places wet kisses on your neck, sucking and biting as he tries to swallow you whole. You thread your hands through his soft hair as his does so, fully encouraging him to ravage you in whatever way he would like. One of his hands begins to slide under your shirt when a cough startles you out of your heated state.

Your first instinct is to turn towards the noise, but Gambit is quick to cup your cheek and pull you into another heated kiss before your head could move a centimeter. He keeps you occupied as his other hand fully caresses the skin beneath your shirt, squeezing and caressing your chest. You hear another exhausted sigh from the cops. You crack and eye open slightly, knowing they cant see you do so in the dark. One of them begins to raise his voice, but the other smacks him on the shoulder.

"Just another pair of drunks. We've got bigger things to worry about right now." The cop says. You could practically hear the other roll his eyes before they turn to and walk away. Gambit brings your attention back to him and only him when you feel a finger brush lightly against your nipple. You gasp, and Remy chuckles, playfully biting your lip as he pulls away. He's smirking as he looks at you, and you can only imagine what you look like right now.

"Looks like you enjoyed that." He teases, voice low and husky. You can't seem to pull your thought together properly when he's looking at you like that. You nervously look away, hands playing with his collar.

"And if I did?" You ask, glancing back at him to gage his reaction. He looks surprised at first, face morphing into a lovestruck smile before he tries to cover it up with a smirk. Didn't stop you from being able to see the heat rise to his cheeks, however.

"Then gambit thinks we should do this more often."

[reveryfics]

Late Night

Pairings: Eddie Brock & Venom x Male reader

Summary: Having just gotten out of the shower, you're met with Eddie and Venom both of which have more exciting plans then your moping around.

A/n: redoing this aesthetic on this post and some others. As always thanks for the likes and enjoy!

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

A young male steps out of his clothes, his bare feet sending chills across the cold floor. He grabs a towel from the rack hanging crookedly on the back of the door, its threadbare surface rough against his skin. He turns on the water, wincing as a rusty groan echoes through the pipes before a sputtering spray erupts from the showerhead.

He waits, counting silently under his breath as the water heats up. The minutes tick by, each one stretching into an eternity of anticipation. Finally, the scalding water begins to mingle with the cold, sending wisps of steam curling around the chipped porcelain walls.

He steps into the shower, letting out a sigh of relief as the hot water cascades over his tense muscles. He lathers up with cheap soap, the acrid scent filling the small space. He scrubs away the grime of the day, the memory of his dead-end job, and the gnawing hunger in his stomach momentarily forgotten under the soothing torrent.

As the hot water washes over him, the male allows himself to close his eyes. He pictures himself somewhere else, someplace far removed from this dingy apartment and life filled with supernatural beings. He imagines a pristine beach, the turquoise water lapping at his toes, the warm sun drying his skin. He breathes in the scent of salt and seaweed, the sound of crashing waves washing away the city's din.

But the dream is fleeting. The scalding water begins to cool, and the harsh reality of his situation seeps back in. He opens his eyes to the peeling paint and cracked tiles, the chipped shower head spewing its meager spray.

He finishes his shower quickly, the cold air sending goosebumps prickling across his skin. He steps out, wrapping himself in the scratchy towel. He looks at his reflection in the fogged-up mirror, seeing not the sun-kissed tan of his daydream, but a skinny kid with tired eyes and haunted shadows under his cheekbones. He sighs, a gust of steam swirling around him like a fleeting wisp of hope. He knows he needs more than a hot shower to escape his reality. But for now, it's enough. It's a small victory, a stolen moment of warmth in the cold grip of his circumstances.

There was a tense silence throughout the bathroom, broken only by the dripping water from the showerhead and throaty cough coming from behind the young male. The male's tired eyes peered at the man from the mirror, a low groan escaped past his slightly parted lips as he hung his head low. A pair of hands gripped his hips, the towel slowly slipping off his waist and onto the bathroom floor. The once scratchy feeling now replaced by the feeling of soft fabric against his bare skin.

Their eyes locked in the reflection of the mirror, both worn and tired from the day. The older male's hands slid up the others back, slowly massaging up and down his spine, shoulder blades, and neck. “You seem tense.” He whispered softly.

A soft chuckle sounded from the younger male, his body slightly relaxing against the other's soft touch. His muscles slowly unwound against every small and deliberate touch against his achy body. “Tell me about it.” He huffed, pressing his body against his partners.

There was a silence between the two for a moment, only for it to be broken by a quiet gasp as black tendrils wrapped around the young male's body.

The two guided him towards the bedroom, their hands cupping his face as Eddie gently pressed his lips against his partner's. Eddie's lips were soft, something he'd grown to love about the man. His own hand found its way around the back of Eddie's neck, pulling him in closer.

Eddie led him back and towards the bed, breaking the kiss when the two needed to breath before pressing back up against them quickly. The gentle kiss turned heated as Eddie sat against the bed, his partner straddling him. Eddie's hands now rested against his shoulders, while Venom still held into his waist.

The male pulled away, a small gasp falling from his lips as Venom's long tongue slowly trailed over his neck. The symbiote left out a low grumble, his tongue passing over each and every sweet spot he could find. His eyes fluttered closed, enjoying the feeling of Eddie and Venom kissing his exposed skin.

Eddie's hands gripped the soft skin of his partner's ass, earning a low groan from the male. He could feel Eddie's cock twitching in his pants, rubbing against his own exposed and growing erection.

The male pushed Eddie back against the bed, making quick work in removing his hoodie and shirt. Eddi hissed at the feeling of his partner's cold hands against his exposed chest and abdomen.

“Enjoying this aren't you?” He hummed, slowly grinding against Eddie's lap.

“You have no idea.” Eddie's voice mixed with Venom's, as the two groaned in response to the pressure.

His hands continued down Eddie's chest, stopping just above his sweatpants as he slowly came to stand in front of him. The brunette groaned as his undergarments were tossed aside, and the cold air of the apartment nipped at his erect cock.

He got on his knees, hands holding Eddie's hips down against the bed. His tongue ran underneath his cock, lapping up the beads of precum that leaked down his shaft. He continued, only stopping when Eddie's cock began to twitch and spasm against his lips and tongue.

Eddie pulled him up, his hands cupping his face as he leaned in to kiss him gently. He sighed against Eddie's lips, moving onto his lap like he had been before.

“Relax.” He hummed, pushing Eddie back against the bed.

The male slowly sunk down onto Eddie's cock, his head shooting back in pure pleasure. He let out a strangled moan as the brunette bottomed out, his cock twitching and pulsating inside his partner.

Eddie's hands found their way to his partner's hips, gripping them harshly. Venom's long tendrils wrapped around the male's cock, slowly jerking him in time with the steady pace of him bouncing against Eddie.

The two became a panting mess, strings of moans falling from their lips as their pace only quickened. Eddie pulling out only to slam back into his partner as Venom continued to jerk him off.

“Fu-fuck..” He moaned, his own cock twitching and leaking precum as Eddie slammed into his prostate.

A particularly hard thrust left him gasping for air as he choked on his own whines and moans, and caused him to clench around Eddie. As he continued for a second time, then a third, and finally a fourth, his partner came across his chest spasming in Venom's grasp. Eddie came not long after, burying himself deep inside as he rode out his orgasm.

Neither moved for a while, basking in the initial moments of their orgasm before Eddie slowly pulled out. He whined, collapsing in the bed beside Eddie and the symbiote, his chest heaving up and down as he caught his breath.

“You owe me a good bath.”

“Whatever you say.”

[cmkren]

— do you yield?

; gregory house x gn! Reader

Unsurprisingly, a night out between House and Wilson doesn’t end up uneventful. Tensions were strung in a-- stranger way, now with Amber in the picture. One of House's grand schemes goes sideways when the person he provokes ends up punching him right in the face. In an attempt to get Wilson in trouble (due to the whole curfew agreement), House got ahead of himself and now Wilson dumps him onto someone else rather than face the wrath of his girlfriend.

And of course, no one’s ever happy to see House on their doorstep.

a/n; sorta just ! Self-indulgent!! This fic leans towards sub bottom house roles, no sex just sloppily making out. Written in 3rd person, they/them for reader! Honestly not too proud of this, but I wanted to get this out 😓

tws!! Suggestive, minor blood play (like incredibly minor), and house bein house — 4.5k words

The plan had been going smoothly. Drinks were going down quickly for Wilson, lord only knows how stressed he had been to be downing alcohol like it was water, and thankfully for House he recalled scoring over God a couple years ago. Meaning he knew what had been haunting Wilson's always-ready-to-please mind.

The connection that Amber had been so similar to House had already been scrounged up, and even House would be lying if that made him think just a little too. Oh, nothing crazy maybe just the fact that if he'd been a woman, Wilson might have been all over him. Her?

The details didn't matter.

What did matter though, was his loss of control over the situation. House didn't know what he had been thinking. No one had been paying them much attention, and his goal was to just get Wilson drunk. Only Wilson. He supposed that he thought he needed to convince his friend to keep drinking? Maybe that's why House started drinking too. And maybe that's why he started picking fights with strangers.

It started off as passing remarks he made to Wilson, the infamous smug smirk that showed how he thought himself omniscient in a sense. That he was so sure he could read people like a book. To a certain degree, that was true. How else was he capable of coming up with schemes that would puppet the parties involved for his own benefit?

Eventually though, passing remarks would eventually turn into what seemed like heckling. No wonder he ended up getting socked right square in the face by a patron. House was always self-sabotaging, but sabotaging his own plans to sabotage Wilson's relationship with Amber? Now that was a little ridiculous.

Didn't change the fact that it happened though.

"Oh-- come on House, I can't bring you back to my place and you know it." Wilson's voice had some strain in it, one of his arms hooked around his friend's (questionable title given to the likes of House) waist as he led him to his car. "Especially not since you started this... this meaningless war." He muttered, the hesitance in his voice to say meaningless suggested that maybe he didn't think it was entirely meaningless. Perhaps a hint to the fact that he did find amusement in it. Hell, maybe even enjoyed it for a bit.

House was disoriented. Not by liquor, but by the fact that he had blood gushing out of his nose and perhaps even a bit of a broken nose at that. "She's got you on a leash, Wilson." He swallowed, wetting his dried mouth. "If I say I'm sorry for leaving you at the pound and give you a treat, will you come running back to me?" He spoke with a certain monotonous that always indicated that he was just being a dick. Everyone's heard it enough to recognize it.

On the other hand Wilson decided to ignore that remark and start tapping away on his phone. Scrolling through contacts in an attempt to make some sort of solution for this mess. “I’m handing you off to someone else House. Whether you like it or not—” he swung open the car door to the passenger seat, muttering a few ‘careful’s as he lowered the man into the seat. Impaired judgement kept him from stopping the bloody nose first, and instead opting to do it when he got into the driver’s seat first.

”Are you dialling Thirteen?” House tilted his head forwards, just letting his head hang before Wilson shoved a bundle of tissues against his face. In turn he winced and complained ‘oww!’ dramatically. “Better be Thirteen.” His voice all muffled by the tissues.

Little did he know, it was the nurse that worked under a couple of his former ducklings.

House usually didn’t care for the other staff around the hospital, but he cared when he thought he could squeeze out some information out of some. That’s what he’d done to them. But not only did they refuse to sell out their fellow coworkers, they had also exacted revenge on him not too long ago. They didn’t necessarily win but they also didn’t lose.

What they were capable of doing, was bruising his ego.

After that, the two just kept interacting. The rivalry the two shared was almost akin to a friendship, but neither of them would admit to such a thing. After all, they hated each other’s guts.

There was a mutual respect there though, hidden somewhere. Wilson liked to think that at least. He would mention it or make a comment about it to House but of course he was always met with a response like—

“Tomato, To-mah-to. Only respect they ever receive from me is purely superficial. Happy to see them go, even happier when they turn around and I get to watch them leave.”

Wilson had rolled his eyes then, taking it as another one of those jerky comments House made to be a dick for the fun of it. The longer he had let it marinate though, and the tone shift at the time, perhaps it had an underlying meaning to it. Or he could just be giving him the benefit of the doubt. Again.

The car engine roared to life when Wilson inserted his car key, his other hand pressing his phone to his ear as he gave his friend one singular glance to make sure he wasn’t doing something stupid. He wasn’t. Just popping some more pills.

”Wilson it’s—” a voice picked up. They paused, as if looking off to the side.

”It’s 10 pm. This is well after office hours.” They spoke with a certain exhaustion in their tone. Expected, to be fair. They were all employees of a hospital, hard to keep up a good amount of energy when you’re running around the place all the time. Especially a nurse.

”Listen, I know this is a big request but,” he put his hand on the steering wheel, grunting when House would knock the butt of his cane against his forearm, “House— you’re going to cause us to crash!”

“House? He’s with you?” They sounded surprised at first before it all melted away, “Oh, who am I kidding, of course he’s with you.” The tone of their voice simply went from quizzical to bemused really quick. “I’m not doing anything for that bastard— this is too big a favour to ask of me Wilson.” Their indignation to aiding him in whatever he was about to ask didn’t keep Wilson from having his foot on the gas pedal though. He was convinced he was going to have them agreeing by the time they get there. If they don’t agree well… too bad they were going to show up to their house anyways.

As the conversation continued out on the phone, it didn’t take long for House himself to realize who had been called to their rescue. It made him scoff in amusement, “oh yeah smart move Wilson. Get stick-up-their-ass to keep me from bleeding out at their place that’ll work out!” He raised his voice loud enough that he knew he’d be audible through the phone.

Wilson furrowed his brows, his mouth agape for a second as he struggled to formulate a sentence but they cut him off before he could.

”Bleeding out? What the hell were you guys doing?” The concern was real but they eventually sputtered and tried to backpedal, “you know we’re not close enough for me to be covering whatever illegal activities you guys are doing!” Which was reasonable reaction, honestly.

“No— no— nothing illegal!” Wilson opposed, having to fight the urge to just knock his head against his steering wheel. God, it was like having two children in each ear yelling at him. House was talking about something but so were they. It just became a garbled mess. Not to mention the fact that he was still driving.

”I warned you. We’re on our way.” In the end, Wilson stood his ground. Pocketing his phone, he would keep his eyes straightforward on the road.

__________________________________________

“You’re lucky to have a friend like Wilson.” They murmured, lips pulled taut as they dabbed a cotton swab around the other’s nasal area. It was reddened with blood, bits of it dark from it already coagulating and drying out. House remained still, for the most part. Pale blue eyes staring right at them, not necessarily happy about this situation either. He wasn’t even tipsy anymore, just sober and in pain.

To be fair though, that was kind of regular day to day for him.

House’s eyes looked down briefly, flexing his fingers. “Yeah? Well friends like Wilson end up dumping you to get butchered up on a chopping block.” Then he wiggled, “or I suppose on a kitchen counter.” Not even an amused noise from them. Just the knitting of brows as they were wary of his squirming to make his point.

They were firm with him, as many would have to be with House. A hand holding his face steady, thumb and index holding his chin so they could tilt his head if needed. House was surprisingly cooperative.

”Well good for you,” they paused their actions, giving him an obvious look over, “nobody actually likes old meat. Too tough, too chewy.” They scoffed, before going back to dabbing the bloody areas of his face. Unfortunately, he’d also gotten a busted lip. It wasn’t drastic but it was most definitely going to take more than just a couple weeks to fully recover from it.

House had his neck craned up, brows furrowed a little as he stared up at the ceiling. His eyes would shift downwards, looking to his begrudging caretaker. They had their lips pursed, their eyes a bit sunken from a long day.

He took the time to look at them though. Oversized band shirt over a pair of shorts. If he craned his head to the side just a bit, he could see that their shirt had hiked up just a little. Resting right above the small of their back, making it so that the front draped down but their ass visible.

His obnoxious ogling was cut short when he felt a dull pain, hissing as he felt just a little too much pressure being applied on his wound.

“I’m doing this for free already. If you want more, you’re gonna have to pay.” They muttered, voice thick with sarcasm.

House let sucked in a breath, “is this about the hookers? Just because I support sex work doesn’t mean I’ll let you drain me dry of my money! You’re not even a hooker.” He winced again, but not because they pressed too hard again. It was more a culmination of his leg and the busted up face situation.

For a brief moment, their eyes softened. They paused for a moment, pulling away and putting down the cotton pad they had held in their hand.

”Your Vicodin?” They questioned, as if expecting him to already be reaching for any sort of pill bottle. House gave a frown, not even really trying to feel himself to find said pill bottle.

He clicked his tongue, “must have dropped it back at the bar. Maybe Prince Charming will find it and return it to me and we’ll live happily ever after.” Actually, he was pretty sure if he ever came face to face with the guy again, he was going to end up with a black eye next.

They rolled their eyes. “I’ll get you something. Hold this.” They then passes him a bag of frozen… strawberries. Huh. Then they left the room, going to fetch something.

”Don’t even bother,” he held the frozen strawberries, and instead of using it as intended he opens the bag and pops one in his mouth, “it’s not going to even work.” His face contorted when the frozen fruit touched his tongue.

He supposed that was effective too. Brainfreeze. Maybe once or twice.

”I’ll just go on and skedaddle as soon as I can. Say, where are your car keys? A question of curiosity.” He called out, already turning his head to look about. When they popped their head back into the room they held what seemed to be clothes and a bottle of pills.

”You’re not getting my keys House.” They huffed, before walking back to him. The grown man sitting on their kitchen island with his legs dangling off the side, shirt bloodied and smelling of a rank bar.

This exchange caused him to raise a brow.

Not necessarily because they wouldn’t give him their car keys. But the fact that they held a change of clothes for him. Either they were just feeling generous, pitied him, or… they had actually planned for him to stay the night.

”Are you trying to get into my pants? You know, there’s different ways to do that—”

”Yes I want to have sex with you.”

The two stared at each other. His mouth agape as if he was going to speak, but they cut him off.

”No, House,” they gave an exasperated sigh, pinching the bridge of their nose. “I’m not trying to have sex with you.” They dropped the clothes right next to him, “you just smell like dog food and shit.”

Then they showed him the bottle they brought with them.

”Ibuprofen? That shit doesn’t do anything!” House reached out for it, though his tone spoke of a child who had maybe received fish sticks instead of his preferred mozzarella sticks.

At his complaint, they clenched their jaw. “Either take some or I’m going to shove them down your throat.” That made him give a faux look of offence, “and you work at the hospital! I’m surprised Cuddy hasn’t canned you yet.” Though the look they gave him made him finally unscrew the cap.

They took a moment to watch him take a couple, before walking aside. “Go take that shower. I’m not taking you anywhere, but honestly,” they turned to give him a look, “I wouldn’t stop you from wandering out.”

House recognized that their first instinct might have actually been to care. Hence the actual attempt at cleaning up his mess. Even giving him clothes and letting him take a shower. But he also knew that their history wouldn’t allow them to just will themselves to be happy around his presence.

That’s why, as a fuck you towards them and Wilson, he was going to stay. Prove Wilson wrong by pissing them off they just have to go yell at Wilson tomorrow morning.

__________________________________________

The bright light of the TV flickered, colours danced along the surface of his gruff face as he sat on the couch. He made himself comfortable in their home, meaning he made a mess of the living room. It was almost midnight now. They told him off earlier, but after him not budging the slightest, they just slinked away into their room.

He knew they were still awake though.

It was that stupid pirate cartoon. Only played at night! When else was he supposed to watch it?

“House.”

He looked over, a clueless expression on his face as he then looked to his wristwatch, “is it early morning already? Wait, nope. Go back to sleep.” He made a dismissive gesture with his hand, as if shoo’ing them away. From their own living room.

The look on their face wasn’t even exasperation or frustration. They just looked done. They walked over, stepping in front of the television screen with their arms crossed. “Turn it off, you need rest.”

He tried to look around them at first, but it was all but futile! He groaned, “get out of the way. You really going to stand there the entire time?” The irritation in his voice didn’t necessarily match the glint in his eye. Amusement, perhaps even a hint of a challenge in them.

They squinted their eyes at him.

It was always that. The look in his eyes that presented a challenge that was supposed to push people away. Yet for people as stupid as those who willingly stuck around House, it did the opposite. Before their own experiences, they always thought it strange for Wilson or hell, even Cuddy to entertain him. Because for a lack of a better word, that was exactly what they do.

Now that they’ve been in a similar position, they understand why.

“Does it turn you on to be such a dick? Surely you’re getting some sort of sick gratification from what you do.” They sneered, approaching him and his smug son of a bitch face. He stared, like he always did, before turning his head and sticking out his lip a little ‘in thought’.

Then he gave a shake of his head, his expression dumb as he said, “my body says no but my mouth says yes.” Then taking a moment before furrowing his brow, “actually, pretty sure I mixed that up.” Just another one of his snarky remarks that made the recipient’s anger burn hotter. It wasn’t even good, the things he said sometimes. Not objectively.

Sometimes they were so stupid that it provided the same effect. The same results. And that was all House ever wanted— results.

Before they could get in another word though, House graciously interrupted them. “I’m not kidding. Step away.” He nudged his hand again, trying to wave them aside. His other? Rested on his thigh. Running along the problem site, up and down as if trying to soothe. Not that it ever worked.

“You didn’t take the ibuprofen.”

That seemed to strike a nerve. “No— I did. Would my incompetent nurse like to see me try again? It’ll only keep proving that I’m right.” He inhaled sharply, wincing. “It. Doesn’t. Work.”

At that, they finally took one step to the side. Allowing for the light of the TV to light him up again. He was sweating, just a little bit, on his head. If he was in so much pain wouldn’t he get up and go? Or was there something else he was trying to prove? Surely he didn’t hate them enough to endure his own pain to inflict pain upon them. Then again, that would be a House thing to do.

Silently, they sat beside him.

House scrunched up his nose, turning his head as he shifted, leaning further back against the plush of the couch. "That’s it?” He let out a shallow breath, turning ever-so-briefly to look at them. They didn’t return the gesture, just staring straight forward.

”That’s it.”

There was a quiet lull between the two, only the over exaggerated voices of the pirate and the princess audible in their space. Quiet wasn’t really House’s thing, though. He turned to them again, arm raised to rest against the back of the couch, “you’re just giving up? Just like that?”

Giving up?

They snorted. “I’m not giving up anything. You were the one with expectations.” Then they finally turned to meet his eyes, “I’m not in the mood for games, House. If you aren’t going to listen, then you aren’t going to listen.”

For some reason, he looked confused. “You don’t just give up. It’s the one thing that actually makes you interesting.” He spoke as if he was the one getting offended. Even if he wasn’t planning on it now, they couldn’t help but feel some anger bubbling up again. What did he want?

”Then you should fucking leave, shouldn’t you, Greg?” They hissed under their breath, trying to turn back to the meaningless cartoon.

Out of all the petty things they’ve argued about, this felt the most genuine. Over an… animated cartoon?

”No. I shouldn’t. You’re supposed to— to…” he paused, biting his tongue. As if the Gregory House was hesitating. When there was virtually no reaction from his uncharacteristic doubt, he grunted. “You’re supposed to fight back. Keep me here.”

A look of surprise crept up to their face. “What?” They blurted out, turning back around to see the man with his head down, eyes flickering up to get one glance at their face. To see what reaction he had received. There were so many things that could be said. So many things they probably should have said. One of them being ‘get out’ which so gingerly danced upon the tip of their tongue.

His head swayed to the side, mouth opening once but then pressed together in a thin line.

This was probably the withdrawals talking. The pain talking. It wasn’t anything he could really stop from spilling out, either way. “Come on. You’re not stupid now, too.” He clenched his fist, then unclenched, nervously fidgeting. “You might be boring but you’re not an idiot.”

”Stop speaking in fucking riddles and spit it out.”

House scoffed, maybe out of amusement. He made eye contact again and straightened out his back just a little. “You hate me. I like pissing you off.” They raised an eyebrow at this, opening their mouth to speak but House shut them up by just putting his whole hand over their mouth.

”Shut up. I know, stating the obvious.” He mumbled, watching them carefully before slowly lowering his hand again once he deemed that it was ‘safe’. “But you haven’t made any real effort into pushing me out. And I…” he furrowed his brows, pinching the bridge of his nose.

”I don’t know.” It all came to an abrupt end. House looked at them as if he expected them to understand what he was saying. What all this stumbling over words meant. There was a certain look in his eyes though, one that had replaced his smug piece-of-shit look from before. The one they were used to.

Too many silences. There’d been too many between them in such a short period of time. But whose fault was that, huh?

”You’re saying… that I… need you? Or what? That I like you?” Shock was still riddled all over their face— a mixture of shock and anger that is. Every time they calmed down he always managed to rile them up again. That has got to be a skill.

A sort of relief seemed to wash over him as he leaned back again. He made a gesture with his hand, giving them another look. The ever familiar House stare.

He was still playing a game. Whether or not his intentions were to simply screw around with them no longer mattered. Because even if he was being genuine the bastard didn’t know how to express himself without hopping through loops. His reaction to them finishing his thought spoke louder than any sort of response he could have followed up with. Even if they said that it was completely untrue it was too late, he made up his mind.

His reaction also meant that the thought of them needing him wasn’t a thought he disproved of.

They relaxed, eyes downcast for a second before they met his eyes again, “you’re a piece of shit.” They muttered, eyes then shifting to his hand that was closest to them. His other was still on his thigh. It had been the entire time. Right now though, it slowed down its ministrations. His attention was on them.

”I should be proving you wrong.” They were slow, grazing their hand over his before interlocking their fingers with his. Warm. Stiff but not dismissive of the touch.

”But you’d see through me, right? Because you always do. You know so much.” He didn’t lean in, but they did. It was like the air had gone still, nothing held either of them back. Not sure House wanted to be held back in any way. Especially considering the way he looked to their lips, ever slightly parted for him.

He was quiet. Waiting. Wasn’t this what he expected? Or— something adjacent?

They tilted their head, lightly lifting themselves off the couch to reach him, leaning over him just a little. “You’re not stopping me.” They mumbled, taking a brief pause. Their eyes stared at his face, appraising him. What did he look like? Hazy. Supposedly, they should back off now.

They got their answer. Didn’t they?

“You’re such a piece of shit.” They breathed out before kissing him. When did the mood change? Perhaps the very moment they decided to entertain his childish game of feelings.

House didn’t waste any time to reciprocate. His hand moved off his thigh, hiking around their waist and pulling them close, so they didn’t have to hover as much. Mouths moving in tandem, both of them warming up as hands travelled up and down and groped. He tried to advance, but they pushed back.

”Don’t you even think it House.” They whispered against his lips, one of their hands on his other thigh and another against his chest. Kissing him again, he chased after them as they pulled back again to give him a smug smile, “under my roof, my rules.”

”Taking my credit? For this? Didn’t think you a thief.” He spoke, but his eyes were trained back on their lips.

“You think I want the credit for initiating?” They muttered, their hand trailing up from his chest to his face. “No. I want the credit for this.” They leaned back down, inching their bodies closer as they kissed again. As feverish as they were, the heat of the moment wasn’t enough to cover the sudden sharp pain he felt on his lip.

His shoulders tensed, what was akin to a whimper slipping past his lips. His eyes fluttered open, and he saw them above him. A gleaming of something besides saliva on her own lips.

House’s hand goes up, pressing it gently against his lip, “you bit me.” There was blood, not too much, but enough. It was the busted lip they’d nurtured, now it was bleeding again. Yet he didn’t find it at all insulting. Instead, he almost looked pleasantly surprised.

”Want me to kiss it all better?” They mused, chest heaving still, and giving him time to either accept or decline. Maybe they should have asked first—

“You’d be sleeping on the couch if you didn’t.” He hardly finished his sentence before he reached for them again, the two clawing at each other desperately as saliva and blood was smeared against their faces. They were kind enough to not do much more to fuck up his lip more, instead going to plant kisses against the side of his neck and down to his chest.

A few red imprints left in their wake, which looked like red lipstick at the time but would most certainly just look like dried blood in the morning. And most certainly not look like kisses.

The hickeys though— that was most certainly going to be a conversation topic between House and Wilson in the morning.

”Admit it House,” they murmured against his skin, their hands quickly working to unbutton his shirt, “you’re the one who needs me.” They kissed and gently nipped at his skin, their hands moving to his belt when his upper body was exposed for them.

He tilted his head back, hissing out a breath as he tried to muster up some words without giving them too much gratification. Looking back, he eyed their close proximity to where he needed them most. “Says the one with their hands practically down my pants.”

“Fine. I’ll take them out.”

“Don’t you dare.”

Guess they were both going to be sleeping on the couch that night.

[bleedingichorhearts]

𝐊𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐅𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬:

𝕬𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗: This was inspired by a chat between me & a fellow requester @originalgothhoagiefish-blog. My tumbler master list looks like a mess, but I'm trying to get placement right.

𝕾𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖞: What happens when you bite your god-like mosquito back during heated times?

𝕿𝖆𝖌𝖌𝖊𝖉: @kit-williams, @egrets-not-regrets, @bispecsual, @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan, @sleepyfan-blog.

+@c-u-c-koo-4-40k.

TW // Smut, Clothed, Bulge, Biting.

|°ᴛᴀɢ ʟɪꜱᴛ ᴀᴘᴘʟɪᴄᴀᴛɪᴏɴ°| |°ɪᴄʜᴏʀ’ꜱ ᴀᴏ3°| |°𝕄𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕃𝕚𝕤𝕥°|

Your angel was hungry, you can see it in his eyes; the way his angelic wings give a minuscule twitch. How his eyes keep glancing at you, wishing for a bite, and if he was lucky enough… something more. He cannot act on his needs at the moment: he’s caught up in some planetary business that he (and the whole legion) has chosen to leave you out of, but you could. You could sedate him for a bit. Give him something to drink.

“We need—” You move just a bit, gaining the attention of some of the blood angels that guard you, and well… the attention of your spouse. You know you’re causing some type of interruption with your presence just standing there, wanting to at least get to wander about. You get some looks for it: from the opposing planet, but you are undeterred. You trust your lovely legion of mosquitoes to bleed them dry if needed.

You move again and gain a bit more than just looks. You can feel the heat of jealousy burn into your skin, trying to get to your singular heart while you make your way out of the room without being dismissed. You’re sure you would get some snarky remarks about it, but they were in your lovers' domain, not their own. They should know how to act considering they were all mostly nobles.

“My Lady,” One of your sons interrupt you, following you out of the room. Leaving his other brother to observe. His steps heavy but light at the same time with his armor on. “Where are you going?”

“Your father is hungry.” You simply point out what you have seen; singled out and have a very good feeling having understanding on. “So are you.”

“I am not.” The son denies, shaking his helmet. You don’t have to look behind you to know that he was. You, however, were no commoner to your lovers’ needs, nor to his legion. You were here long enough to understand their... cues of peculiar hunger.

“Do not deny the truth Son of The Angel.” You muse, giving him a glance behind you. It was amusing how some of them still act a bit childish and refuse things. One would think the children of the stars would be much more… stoic; formal perhaps. Yet they have their moments when they reminded you of complete children.

“I do not deny, my lady.” He huffs, and it’s just amuses you even more. He was— is food angry. “I’m simply… irritated.”

“Irritated.” You repeat his word with a hum. He didn’t want to act nor admit he was hungry, just like his father. They always get a bit grumpy without something to feed them. “Then perhaps you wouldn’t be swayed with my offered blood?”

You’re quick with it, taking your defense dagger from your waist and slicing the palm of your hand of it before turning around on your heel and presenting your now bleeding palm to the son. Your hand in a slight cupped formation to keep your own blood from wasting to the ground.

“My lady…”

“Do not refuse what is generously offered, it is rude.” You are also quick on your tongue, interrupting the loyal son. Your bloody hand moving a bit as if to urge them to drink from your lifeline that slowly pours from your hand and down your arm.

“I… your blood should only be offered to our father…” He tries to deny you again, but he’s lured in. He’s leaning in closer to your offered hand. He can’t resist his hunger to feed like most others could. He is a younger Astartes, but you don't blame him for it.

“Hmm, perhaps.” You hum, feeling how your own blood pools in your hand, slowly slipping through your fingers. “But I’m offering you. Do not deny it.”

He sighs at you: a heavy one. His gauntlet coming up to his helmet and taking it off himself. A beautiful shade of dark green appearing as his eyes then the bright blonde as his wavy hair: the length of it is to his shoulder blades or rather pauldron. A few scars littering his face, but he still had those young, youthful features. (Not like the whole legion didn’t.)

“You, are as handsome as your father.” You complement the hesitant Blood Angel. He probably doesn’t want to drink from you because of your status. Doesn’t want to drink what is his Primarchs, and you can't really blame him on that either. You wouldn't want to eat the alphas food either.

However, your husband can make an exception.

"Are you sure my lady?" He asks for your word, your permission. His gauntlet coming forward to grasp at your hand. Stabilizing it for him to drink. It's a cute, small step forward for the young one to resist temptations. "I don't want to be... punished for it."

Oh, how adorable the sons were. Allways asking for permission. Well, almost always. You've heard how they weren't merciful sometimes, and you suppose it's a hard truth to learn of them, or easy. Depending on the person.

"Would you be punished if I was simply offering?" You ask him, moving your fingers a bit as the blood goes down onto his gauntlet. His eyes never leaving your crimson stained hand. "I am giving it to you freely."

"I... suppose not." He sighs, finally leaning a bit down to give your hand and inhale. His tongue liking at his lips before he gives in. The heat of his appendage giving a long lick to your palm. His tongue curling, acting like some sort of spoon to get more blood piled up in his mouth. His fangs barely brushing over the skin of your palm.

It was almost strange. To feel the differences between son and father. At least tongue wise as this sons' tongue was like a cats', yet it's a bit smoother. Sanguinius? His was smooth but had more heat to it. You guess it's because he most drank from you when he was really needy...

After a moment, he releases your wrist as gently as possible. His tongue swirling in his mouth as he moves his hand to cover his lips as if this would require some form of adequate. His eyes looking away from you with a slight blush to his cheeks. "I can see why father chosen you as the legion mother..."

You smile at him, amused and knowing. You know your blood attracts some mosquitoes more than most. Your hand returning back to your side. He has cleaned your hand quite well...

"Hmm, then I suppose you would not mind deliver something to your father; offer for an offer?" You ask the son, pressing on your wounded palm slightly. Watching a bit more blood leaving the slit.

"Of course, it's only reasonable my lady."

You're back in Sanguinius quarters but the time your... package has been sent to him. Your hands are busy wrapping up your own hand that you injured for the sake of feeding the Sons of The Angel. A small, humming tune leaving you as you tend to the wound.

You wonder if Sanguinius would like your small, editable gift? It was in small quantities, but you wanted your husband to be enriched and not be bored of the nobles that are no doubt talking nonsense, because you know in experience, they like to talk in laughing wealth... or at least those ones do. They never like to do dealings with you... which may lead to their downfall.

You jump a bit when the doors of Sanguinius quarters open. Your eyes giving a brief glance outside. You would have thought he wouldn't have arrived back until dusk, but you suppose not all comes to plan.

"My love, you didn't have to enlighten me with your own blood." Is the first thing that leaves Sanguinius mouth. His clothed form briskly walking to your side, as if he was impatient. His wings fluttering behind him. His eyes staying on you once they land on you: sitting down and wrapping up your hand.

Oh, yeah, he is definitely impatient.

"Oh? So, you knew it was my blood?" You muse, returning to wrapping up your palm. A little embarrassed to look at him now. How could you? You might have just done something brave, but incredibly stupid. Might of. You're not too sure. Would he scold you for it?

"How could I not?" He inhales. His lips suddenly close to your neck and it makes your heart pulse. His hands moving anything from shoulder from obstructing what he wants. "Your blood is my addiction; my own life as it is the legions..."

His chest is pressed up behind you as he leans down to cover you in his shadow. His own hand slowly coming do to grasp at your wrist with the bandages around it. The huge, obvious size difference was always remarkable to you.

"You fed the sons as you fed me." He hums, his lips pressing into your neck and you can't help but give him more access. Your body leaning back into him. "Generous of you, even if we didn't need it."

"Oh, please." You scoff, amused. Flipping your wrapped hand in his, tracing your fingers in his palm. "You were hungry."

"And I," He pauses, musing with you. Kissing you on the cheek as his arms wrap around you. His nose nuzzling into your neck, inhaling again before he suddenly lifts you up from the chair. A surprised yelp of his name falling through your lips as you squirm in his hold. "Still am."

"Sanguinus!" You gasp his name again, your body plopping down into the soft sheets of his bed with him directly on top of you. His hands wrapping around your waist with unnatural ease. Silently telling you just how much he could just take you; ragdoll you as his lips attack your neck. No doubt enjoying how your veins pluses a bit quicker when he excites you; teases you.

"You had no need to feed me when I can have you here; fully." He chuckles into your neck, sending a bit of a vibrations through you at the closeness. His wings behind him spreading out, covering you in his shadow, his scent, him. His hands on your waist keeping you in place for him to enjoy what is beneath him.

"Did... did you like what I have given you?" You ask a bit hesitantly, moving your own hands to his body. Your fingers tracing every outline you can find on the top half of his torso. You were afraid you might get some form of judgment from him.

"I wanted to leave the room once my tongue touched the thickness of your blood in that glass." He groans quietly, inhaling deeply again. His body shifting a bit above you while one of his hands wander just a bit lower... "I truly wonder if you were teasing me."

"Me? Never." You purr slightly out to him, enjoying his wandering his hands. You didn't want to make it sound like you were teasing him, and you weren't, it wasn't intended, but you wouldn't be opposed to be testing a Primarchs' limits in different ways besides the intensity of chaos.

"Oh, really?" He rumbles amusingly, his eyes trailing over your face. His mouth hanging open to slide his fangs over your neck, teasing you. Your body giving a shiver at the feeling as you really didn't know when he would bite you. He liked to be a bit mysterious on it.

"Really." You simply confirm, sliding one of your fingers under the waist band of his clothing, touching the bare skin of him at his v-line. His fangs, and a huff of his hot breath warning you by your neck, confining with you.

He was losing his patience ever slowly with you.

"Then I don't believe you are teasing me now, are you?" He hums, switching to give your neck a kiss again. His eyes hooded in a tired lure while his waist thrusts forward a little, urging your hands to go further down his waist. Teasing the both of you as your fingernails gently claw above where the both of you want.

"Certainly n-not- Sanguinus!"

He laughs lowly at your yelp as he gave a nip to your collar bone, drawing a very small amount of blood to taste you once more. He wants to savor the source of his food, his drink. He want's your fulfilling warmth of your blood, of you. He wants you.

His fangs trace your neck, slowly feeling how your skin twitches and pluses underneath his lips as he occasionally giving you kisses, prepping you for him to feast. One of his hands shifting to move yours a bit lower on him. Where you can feel the thickness of him and his heat. A low grunt leaving him while he has to restrain himself from about wreaking you for the next weeks to come. That is, if he doesn't drink you to exhaustion first.

Your hands grasp at him, slowly teasing him, pumping him up and down. It should have been impossible for you to do so because of his height but with the way he practically curls around you for your touch, it was not, and sometimes? You curse at yourself for your smaller height, feeling bad for your lover having to curl around you for the simplicity of intimacy, but oh... It makes things feel deliciously bigger; thicker.

You shutter a gasp when his fangs slowly pierce your skin. Hands grasping his length a bit harder while you try accommodate to the slight pain that stings you. Your nose slightly nuzzling into his jawline as you feel him drink from you. A little, satisfied hum leaving him as he swallows, even gracefully in these heated times. His waist thrusting slightly as his length in your hands moves for you.

"Sanguinus..." You sigh into him, your mind filled with unholy thoughts of him. How he would- will take you. How he would leave you weak and submissive for him to use to his pleasure. How his cock would fill you with overwhelming efficiency, touching all the sweet spots only he knows about.

He hums at you, louder to acknowledge your wants. His body shifting above you while he still drinks from you. Position himself to where you wanted him. Your hands helping him find his mark, just above your core. You're still clothed, but that's what the zippers and openings on the bottom's of the dresses are for. For your lover to fuck you good all while trying to keep up a professional and neat image.

Your body shutters while you lead him inside of you. Bursts of shorts breaths leaving you as you can feel his length slowly fill you. A slight bulge appearing on your skin where he sits himself inside your walls. Moans leaving the both of you when your walls tighten around him, and you can't but help to think of biting your lover back. It sounds appealing to you in your mind. Your body curling more into him, getting closer to him as he moves with you to continually feed on you.

His gives a small, testing thrust inside of you. Exciting another gasp from you while you move closer to his shoulder, your breath painting his own clothing. Your hands moving to grasp at his shoulders as he always felt a bit overwhelming when he was inside of you at first. You were still trying to accommodate him, but each growing second grew more pleasurable.

A whiny-like moan leaves you when he thrusts again. Hands desperately grasping at him now as the combined efforts of giving you pleasure and drinking from you was a pleasurable overkill for your sensitive nerves. Your own teeth brushing over his neck, and you can tell he froze for a second; pausing his drinking but keeping his fangs fit into your neck.

That, is when you gently bite into him yourself. Your teeth latching onto him gently on his collar bone: voided of his clothing. You bit him gently enough that wouldn't cause a mark, even if you knew how hard you had to bite him for anything to be done to him, it wouldn't cause anything to him, but in heated times? It was like activating his carnality card.

He is quick to move, unlatching from your neck and giving it a reassuring lick before he's hovering above you again. His hands settling on your thighs, giving you slow, rolling thrusts that were repetitive. It has you arching your back into the sheets with your hands grasping at his on your thighs. Mewls leaving you as he ever slowly goes faster and faster. Loosing himself: losing his resolve with you. Quiet grunts and growls leaving him while he keeps readjusting his hands on your thighs to your waist to keep you in place on his cock. His wings behind him moving and fluttering with his rabid thrusts.

Perhaps, you should bite him a bit more often? Maybe offer some surprising drinks of your blood too? It was certainly an experience, and a chance for you to be bedridden for a couple of weeks.

[lialox]

Doksoo week day 5

(posted on day 7 - the ‘do anything you want’ day)

Prompt(s): Angst, Neighbour AU, Time Travel

Summary:

In Kim Dokja’s time travel fix it, Han Sooyoung is not from the world that was fixed. (3k words)

[sinsandsweetness]

season 5 scary beard rick getting sweet, hyperfem reader on her knees for him, and her just looking up all sweet and obedient and docile, just about ready to do anything for him I FEEL LIKE ITD DRIVE HIM WILDDDD

“Are you okay?” She whispers as he tugs her behind the barn. Neither of them wanting to attract any attention from the potential threats out in the woods.

“Just need your help with something, princess,” his mouth starts trailing down her neck as he pushes her up against the barn. Rough wood with the threat of a splinter catches on her sweater. It’s stretched out collar falls off her shoulder and grants him even more access to her neck. Nipping lightly at her collarbone.

“With what?”

He doesn’t answer, tilting his head up, he catches her lips and grabs her hand, placing it against the front of his jeans. Tall and hard under the dark denim, she gets the hint almost immediately.

It doesn’t take long before she’s on her knees. So obedient. The very impractical mini skirt she wears is riding up above her hips and the sight of her soft bare skin drives him wild. He’s thankful that her pretty lace panties are only shown to the wood siding of the barn and not the forest behind them. He holds one arm up against the wall for support, doubling as an unintentional shield to their intimate act. His fingers lace with her unruly locks, guiding her close enough to kiss him through his boxers.

“Atta girl,” he says as her fingers trace at his waistband. The site in front of him nearly catches him in a trance. She’s so pretty like this. All wide eyed and willing.

He urges her on, “You know what to do.”

[hyunjuswife]

You're Submission's what I need/ Queen of Hearts (Bridget) x fem Queen Reader!

Characters included: Queen of hearts (Bridget), Cinderella Charming, King Charming, and Uma

Queen of heart's (Bridget) x fem Queen reader!

Why did I create this? Simple: the Queen of Hearts is attractive, and I strongly believe she's a lesbian. (I think all cold, ruthless, baddie queens with a sad backstory are lesbians.)

Prompt: You are the Queen of the Seas, Uma's aunt and elder sister to Ursula and Uliana. When word reaches you that your niece is being held against her will by the ruthless Queen of Hearts herself, you decide to pay a visit. After all, nobody messes with your family, right? However, things take an unexpected turn when the Queen realizes just who you are.

TW! Before reading this, note that there is no use of Y/N or '(Y/N)', and you have a name. This will be written in the third person POV, with mature language and subtle implications of sex as a bribe.

---

Ursa, Queen of the Seas, was a name that struck fear into the hearts of those who spoke it. You were feared across all sea lands, and for good reason.

However, that didn’t mean you were cold to your flesh and blood, including all of Uma's mates.

So, when you received a message that your niece was being held against her will, along with others, you were angered but also curious.

Who was foolish enough to hold someone dear to you against their will, knowing who you are?

Was it Hades? Surely not. The old beast had better things to do than provoke the Sea Queen. Maybe it was Morgie or even Hook? They weren't very fond of you, and the feeling was mutual.

They were the worst set of mates you’d seen your younger sister crew with, but you had no say in that. You did, however, warn them once: you'd find them, skin them alive, and then proceed to drown them if they ever hurt Uliana.

Needless to say, you weren’t too happy to learn your niece was being held against her will.

What the fuck happened here?

That was all you could think as you stepped into the dry lands of Auradon Prep, brushing off any sand and dust that clung to your dress. It had been years since you last willingly set foot in Auradon (though you weren't invited back; you were just here to make sure Uma was okay).

Everything was... different. Not that you were complaining; the place needed a makeover, even if it was a bit unusual. In a way, you found it oddly fascinating. The skies seemed darker, a crimson shade of red, and it was eerily quiet.

Quietly making your way through the empty halls of what you assumed was Auradon Prep, you found yourself at a dead end, large cards blocking all views and ways into where the people resided.

You huffed in annoyance, retracing your steps back to the sea to see if you could get in through the top, and luckily, you could.

Using your tentacles to lift you upwards, you quietly observed from above.

Your steely gaze swept over the crowd of cowering, fearful, and hateful eyes until they landed on a certain green-haired woman—there she was!

Held against her will,indeed, but no harm had come to her. Sighing in relief, you felt as though you could finally breathe properly.

After a few seconds, Uma caught your gaze from where she knelt, her eyes lighting up when she spotted you. Winking at your niece, you placed a finger to your lips, signaling her to stay quiet. Heeding your silent warning, Uma sent you a playful eye roll and a slight pout.

"Let me go!" Snapping your attention back to the drama unfolding before your eyes, your interest piqued as you set eyes upon a redhead.

So it was the Queen of Hearts who had your niece. Though you can't say you remember her like this—villainous and evil—it suited her.

"Oh, Charming. So nice to see you again," Bridget spoke, her voice steady and so unlike the girl you vaguely remembered (the version your sisters used to tell you about: bubbly, sweet, nice, and oh-so-desperate for a friend or two).

"Where is she? Where is Cinderella?" Shoved to the ground, Charming groaned from the fall, and Bridget seemed to relish in it all.

Turning, she picked up a pair of glass shoes that belonged to Cinderella.

"Why—"

"No..."

"Are you looking for these?" she taunted, dangling the glass pair on the tips of her fingers as she stared at the kneeling man. You shifted a little, now watching the show unfold with keen interest.

"What have you done?" His voice broke and cracked a little, and for a moment, you felt pity for the poor guy—after all, he did just lose his happily ever after.

Throwing the glass shoes against the ground floor, they shattered, pieces flying everywhere. The black-haired man broke at the sight.

"Not so funny now, am I?" Bridget retorted, watching as the man fumbled forward, hands trembling as he attempted to pick up the pieces of the broken shoes. She smiled, wicked and evil in every sense.

Hot. Fucking. Hot.

"No... What... No... No... No!" he shouted, and she continued to laugh, relishing in his brokenness.

"Guards, take him away. I want him out of my sight," the redheaded Queen ordered firmly, gazing into the eyes of each of her faithful yet fearful guards, and they nodded without a word.

"Well, that was interestingly brutal," you muttered to yourself with a soft chuckle. However, it died down when Uma sent you a look.

The kind of look that said, "I'm telling mom if you don't hurry up and turn this shit-show around," and you groaned softly to yourself.

With an eye-roll, you dove back into the depths of the sea, a swirl of water circling around your form, drawing everyone's attention as expected.

As you landed on the hard surface of the floor, people made space for you, and guards stepped back, armed and alert as your figure became clearer.

You wore a beautiful deep blue mermaid dress, with a plunging neckline that complemented your body perfectly. As the water completely disappeared, you emerged from the depths.

"Alright, as much as I loved the show, I have to put a stop to this... whatever this is," you spoke up, gesturing towards the crowd and the scene in front of you.

"And who are you to demand that?" Bridget replied, her gaze curious and wary, eyeing you from head to toe before they landed on your face.

"Ursa, Queen of the Seas. Though I doubt any of you have heard of me," you murmured the last part, glancing around at everyone—the parents, the fearful children, and then the guards. They wore cool masks, but they didn’t fool you.

You knew fear when you saw it.

"I don't think I've heard of you... Hmm..." The redheaded woman hummed thoughtfully to herself for a while, seemingly lost in her world of thoughts.

While she was, you glanced towards your niece, quietly making your way towards her. Uma smiled, slowly and brightly. You'd come to save her, and she was thankful for it.

When two guards stopped you, you stared up at the two men and scoffed. Tentacles emerged from within you and effortlessly lifted them off the ground, throwing them elsewhere.

As you came face to face with your niece, you sighed in relief and silently pulled her into a tight hug.

"Excuse me—"

Turning away from Uma towards the redheaded queen, who was smiling tightly, you nodded.

"I don't think I've heard of you before..." Repeating her words once more, it felt like a demand, as if she commanded you to tell her who you are.

Giggling lightly, you crossed your arms over your chest, giving her a once-over to appreciate the beauty standing before you.

"I said my name's Ursa, didn't I? Wait, I forgot to mention I'm related to someone you may or may not dislike—" Humming to yourself, you shrugged. Oh well, she’d come to know who you are one way or another.

"—Uliana. Does that name ring a bell?" you asked, taking a confident and taunting step forward, not too close to invade her space but enough to smell her perfume.

"You..." she murmured, her gaze suddenly turning darker and colder. A slow smile crept its way to your mouth, and you sighed.

"No, no. I'm not the younger sister; I'm the older one, not Ursula. God no, that idiot wouldn’t last a day being Queen. Like I said before, I’m Ursa, Queen of the Seas and firstborn daughter of Aquarayna."

Gasps and whispers spread among the crowd, but your gaze stayed fixed on the wicked beauty in front of you.

"I see now. I assume you're here for the Uma girl then. Well, that’s too bad. I don't give, I take. Now, kneel."

Inwardly, you cursed up a storm. Of course, she’d say something like that. What could you say to sway her? Then, a dirty and wicked thought crossed your mind. Why not bribe her with something she—hopefully—couldn't refuse?

Sex.

It was risky and stupid but consequences be dammed when the life of your niece in the hands of Bridget.

Instead of heeding her warning, you took another step forward, invading her personal space as the others watched on, breaths held, waiting for your answer.

"What if I give you something else instead, something you very clearly need, hmm?" You murmured, hand brushing against her soft skin as she stared down at you.

''And what would that be, Hmm? what could you possibly have that I would want?'' She scoffed, a bitter sound as she shook her head.

Leaning forward, you whispered in her ear, your breath hot against her seemingly cool and cold skin. ''Indulgence, pleasure I doubt you've felt in a while. Only, if you release Uma and keep her unharmed''

A/N: If you want a part 2 dm me ideas bcs after writing this shit-show I have literally no ideas for anything else for a bit (literally put my tears blood and sweat into this shit. I also wanted to apologise fornot be active in literally MONTHS.)

[bamboobooshark]

LOGAN HOWLETT X READER

✩°｡𓏲🧺𖦹 ₊˚ HURT TO SMILE : 757 WRDS

Prompt by @cosmophoriia !

Logan grunted softly as he sat down in one of the chairs in the common room. He was still sore from a fight he had the previous day. Even if his body could regenerate, it didn't heal his aching muscles. He grabbed the remote and began flicking through the channels. "Nope. No. Nah," Logan muttered under his breath as he mindlessly continued. He set his elbow against the arm rest of the chair, putting his chin in his palm. He exhaled deeply and kept browsing in hopes something interesting would come up.

Some faint footsteps came from the corridor that went from the dining hall to the common room. "Logan! Marie told me you're finally back," a voice called from around the corner. The mutant sighed, his hand moving from under his chin to his temples. "Yea, kid. I'm back. What about it," he asked with a slightly irritated tone. They winced a bit at the way he spoke, but they knew that's how he always was when they came around. They ran over to Logan, sat on the floor right next to him, and tossed their head back to smile up at him. "What do you mean 'what about it'? I missed you! I miss you more than you could imagine. It feels like you've been gone for, like, a million years," they whined to him. They turned around so they were facing him. "Please don't leave for that long ever again," they begged with a pouty lip. Logan groaned softly. "I was only gone for two days. You're living. You're breathing. You're fine," he reassured him as he ran his hand back along their head.

They let out a soft huff of air before standing up. "You're such a sour puss," they teased. "Look. Watch. I'm gonna pretend to be you," they giggled. Logan rolled his eyes. He knew exactly what was coming. They immediately put on the most dramatic, grumpy expression they could and made their voice sound as gruff as possible. "I'm Logan and I'm the most grumpy, mean, aggressive person ever! I'm such a lone wolf! I don't need anyone," they mocked while trying their hardest to repress their smile. "Stop that," he growled. Their eyes widened a bit at his tone, feeling slightly intimidated. "You must be fun at parties," the muttered. "What'd you say," Logan asked with a raised eyebrow. "Nothing." They kept a soft smile on their face as they moved to the couch that was next to the chair he was in.

They decided to mess with him a bit more, so they sat there staring at him. It took Logan a few minutes to realize what they were doing. Once he did, he looked at them with a sharp gaze. "What? Is there something on my face," he asked, trying to play along. They paused for a second to think of a response. "Yeah. There actually is. You know what it is? A big, fat, sour frown," they said. "It would be better if you smiled like this," they beamed as they gave him their biggest, happiest grin. "See! Like that! Now you try," they offered. Logan shook his head. "No. I'm not gonna smile, kid. Stop that," he insisted, trying to shoo them off with his hand. He had no idea he just started a back and forth.

"But I love your smile!" "You love everything about me." "Yeah, but your smileeeee!" "No." "Yes." "Nope." "Please?" "No." "Pretty please? With a cherry on top? And some Dr.P too?" "Not happening," he said.

They got up from the couch, stood in front of him, grabbed his shoulders, and shook him. "Logan! It wouldn't hurt to smile! It really wouldn't," they said to him in a sing-somg voice. "It really would," he replied. "No it wouldn't. You just don't wanna try," they told him, being completely right. "Okay? I'm not gonna do something I don't want to. Now move so I can find something to watch," he grunted. They smiled hard once they realized just what they could say to get him to smile. "I love you, Logan," they hummed, sitting down on the couch and awaiting his reaction. As they guessed, he smiled softly. "I love you too, kid," he sighed, chuckling quietly.

[princessbrunette]

what if receptionist!reader was roommates with the firefighter boys 👀…

oh i love this. she literally found them online n she needed roommates desperately cos the girlies she was supposed to move in with bailed last minute on her :(

so now receptionist!reader knows she can’t afford to live alone because that receptionist job is pretty good but not paying her amazing money yk?? and here we have jj n john b in a similar situation, needing just one extra person to help cover the costs !

they’re not expecting their new roommate to be working at the station they work at, which leads to lifts to and from work together, the three of you becoming pretty much inseparable out of work. alot of the time you finish hourssss before they finish so you get yourself home (or wait for one of them to drop you home on their shift) and prepare dinner for them to come home to :( maybe allow them to let off a lil steam on u :((

they need it especially when they start working the real fires, having completed their training. coming home still smelling like smoke, soot smeared on their faces and undershirts just manhandling u in the kitchen :( n you can’t help but notice how big and strong they’ve been getting since working the real deal ……

one of them always fireman carries u to the bedroom n it makes u giggle everytime !! 🙂‍↕️

[moongumi]

⁀➷ ∵  ❝betrayal stings like a b*tch⁰²❞

⟶ simon 'ghost' riley x oc/reader

simon has to let the little thing holding him back go, the betrayal makes it easy but that doesn't mean it hurts any less.

⟶ cw. third person, angsty, betrayal, shadow!oc, relations with graves

⟶ note. yessir our girl's callsign is leech xd she has a good story behind why she was called that but it is the same OC in all the drabbles i write xx

he didn't expect to open up to anyone, especially not in the field—on the job. the strange girl he had been getting close to stands against him right behind the fucking devil himself.

"what? did you think she was one of you?"

graves' words stung a lot harder than he expected it to. his eyes were burning with hatred watching her stand there next to him like a good little pet.

1-3, leech. shadow company, american flag stitched on her flag uniform. how was he fooled?

she didn't even catch his eyes, he can't see her face under her blood stained mark. the blood of alejandro's people after they took fuerza especiales hq and betrayed task force 141 and the los vaqueros.

she doesn't even make a move when alejandro is captured and detained. soap gets shot and ghost makes his escape. he even had the nerve to look over at her, if she was alright. she just stands by him, nodding to his orders without even a shift in her eyes.

fucking traitor.

in las almas ghost was separated him soap, only managing to communicate with him through coms.

"why are you still here?" her voice, it hits him like dagger to the heart.

ghost turns to her instantly pointing his gun at her with the laser sight pointed right at her. she had her hands up, walking through the darkness with a knife in hand—fresh blood dripping from it.

"bored of killing innocents already?"

she shakes her head, "if you call the shadows innocent."

he didn't quite believe her just yet.

"it's dangerous, ghost."

ghost scoffs, still pointing his weapon at her. "for you."

"i'm not the one being hunted." she saunters towards him, unafraid of the consequences, he won't shoot her, she knew that.

she sighs, close enough to him to smack her hand against the barrel of the gun away from her direction. he gets the opening to toss his gun aside and grab her, tossing her agains the wall with his forearm pressed against her throat.

her helmet is off, and her heavy plates too, ghost eyes them before she replies to his silent questions. "quieter this way."

"you're here to kill me?"

she rolls her eyes, those orbs the only things visible under her half-mask and beanie. "if i was, you'd be dead."

"you think too highly of yourself."

she laughs, "a girl's gotta' be optimistic."

her laugher dies down when he presses his arm against her harder, taking her breath. she winces slightly at the pressure. her eyes start to water but she doesn't show weakness.

ghost gets close to her, his mask pressing against the side of her face. "why'd you do it?"

"he's my...boss." she words out through her struggled breaths.

"that all?"

she had the audacity to scoff, "you know the answer."

he knew the strange little relationship graves had with her, he didn't like it. he doesn't pry for more. when a tear slips down her face he pulls away.

she coughs catching her breath. "if i didn't know any better, i'd think you were tryin' to kill me."

"i should."

"but you won't."

she knew him well. from the short time they had together, he couldn't do it.

"get outta here." he orders, he's no longer her superior yet he can she stiffens at the tone.

she sighs, rubbing her hand over her face. "that's it?"

"what else?"

"not gonna' beg me to go with you?"

ghost scoffs, hearing the quiet voice of soap through his radio. "no."

she's still a traitor, the rest won't accept it and deep down he knew if he had folded over the gentleness and soft tone of her voice—her charming personality then price might kill her himself. a traitor to the force, she was apart of the group that went after a hit on the captain's team, he isn't going to forgive that—not easily.

"shadow 1-3, this is graves what is your position?"

"ghost—"

"you should answer that."

she nods, knowing that it was pretty much over. it hurts him to turn away from her, from the thought of what it could've been but he had to, he had a job to do.

[pain-in-the-butler]

A compilation of art for my Dadbastian fanfic Coattails that I commissioned from the incredibly talented @karafina! They went above and beyond with the details... Each picture feels as cozy and warm as a storybook, right? I'm so delighted with how they turned out!! Thank you for making each one so beautiful! 🥹🥹🥹

[astarion-approves]

drabble req? :) would love to see some astarion working on comforting or patching up tav/reader — there’s a lot of hurt/comfort in the other direction out there but soft!astarion is so cute :’) love your work btw! <3

Astarion x GN! Reader drabble (695 words)

SFW, Astarion POV, third person POV, Fluff, shitty pep talks (which I am also not great at,) no patching up but it's kinda cute anyway. A touch of jealous Gale

----

“Astarion,” Gale began, the human always tiptoeing around him since the beginning. “Could you…” He shook his head, the man looking unsure with his next words. “Could you check in on Tav?”

Astarion sighed and closed his book, his eyes flicking to the fireplace where Tav sat alone and poked at the fire. “And just why would I do that?”

“Look,” Gale clenched his teeth together, looking over his shoulder to where Tav sat before looking to Astarion once more. “They obviously have feeling for you—“

“Hah! Well that's no surprise. After all, no one can deny my charms—“

“And you obviously have feelings for them.” Gale’s tone was firm, his eyes harsh as he glared back at the vampire, a tint of jealousy swimming beneath it.

Astarion tossed his book into his tent, his arms coming to cross over his chest as he glared right back at Gale. “And so what if I do?!” Now he swung his hands in front of himself, gesturing past Gale and to where Tav still sat. “What the hell do you expect me to do!? Go over there and tell them everything is going to be okay?! That all of the evil in the world will never get to them because I’ll protect them from it?! That these fucking tadpoles in our brains mean no harm and that we’ll all live happily ever after?!”

“Yes,” Gale replied. “That is exactly what I expect you to do.”

Astarion dropped his arms to his sides, pouting at Gale’s answer. He sighed. “Fine!”

Shoving past Gale he made his way to Tav, rubbing his now injured shoulder. He may have overreacted just a tiny bit, but the way Gale stumbled from his shoulder check was worth it.

“Hello, Tav,” Astarion sat down beside them without an invitation.

“Hey.” They gave Astarion a small smile but turned their attention back to the fire.

“I think it’s best if we’re just honest with one another here,” Astarion said with a shrug. “Being friends and all.”

Tav only hummed in reply.

For a moment Astarion let his facade drop. Usually Tav would be eager to chat with him, truly, about anything and everything. To see them pay more attention to the fire than his gorgeous self— something really was wrong.

“What’s wrong, Tav? Tadpole hosting a private party in your skull?”

Tav snorted, another smile gracing Astarion and giving his heart a little flutter knowing that he managed to earn a real smile from them. “Everything?” Tav answered. “Just… everything.”

“Well-“

“And you don’t have to tell me that we’ll live happily ever after.”

“Look at you! Eavesdropping on a private conversation? I’m so proud.”

They didn’t reply this time, just focusing on the flames as they danced in front of them, burning down the pile of wood and sparking as Tav added another log.

“No, things won’t end happily ever after,” Astarion broke the silence as he spoke, his voice soft. “I think that much was obvious the moment we were abducted by fucking mind flayers.”

“Some pep talk—“

“Give me a moment, I’m not accustomed to cheering a person up!”

Tav laughed, but gestured for Astation to continue. “Okay, sorry.”

“Apology accepted.” Astarion bumped their arm into Tav’s. “Now, where was I—“

“Happily ever after, or lack thereof.”

“Right, our eventual demise.”

“Astarion—“

“Look, I’m not good at this, clearly. We’re all bound to die some day, but it’s how we spend our days before the end that matters. You can’t give into these feelings of darkness that haunt you, the urge to give up when things get tough. I’m here for you, everyone in this strange camp of weirdos is here for you— and if you’re hurting all you have to do is say something and we’ll do what we can. Shitty pep talks included.”

Tav nodded and tossed their stick into the fire, no longer playing with the flames that beckoned them. “I’m hurting.”

“I know, darling,” Astarion said and put his arm over their shoulder, pulling them closer. “I can’t change the world, all I can do is be here for you… and I hope it’s enough.”

[reveryfics]

Warmth of the sun and a Parasite

Pairings: Eddie Brock & Venom x Male reader

Summary: You wake up sandwiched between Eddie and Venom, neither of which want you to get up

A/n: Back on my Eddie Brock fics. Something short and cute mainly because I'm in a writing block and this is all I can think of. Please send ideas

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

The morning sun streamed through the partly opened curtains, casting a warm glow across the sleeping figure. A soft sigh escaped the man's lips as he stirred, trying to stretch and roll over. But his movements were halted. Strong arms, one human and one alien, held him firmly in place.

"Not yet," a familiar voice murmured, a hint of a growl in its tone.

He opened his eyes to find himself trapped between Eddie Brock and the symbiote Venom. Their faces were mere inches from his, a mix of contentment and possessiveness in their gazes.

"Come on, guys," he protested, trying to wriggle free. "I've got stuff to do.”

Eddie chuckled, tightening his grip. "Not today, sweetheart. Today, we cuddle."

Venom, ever the dramatic one, hissed in agreement, his tendrils tightening around the man's waist.

The trio had settled into a comfortable routine. On days when Eddie and him were off, a peculiar dynamic would unfold. The two men, and symbiote each with their own unique quirks, would indulge in a shared sense of camaraderie, often bordering on chaos.

"You two are insufferable," he teased, a playful glint in his eyes as he feigned annoyance. He playfully punched Eddie's chest, a gesture of affection masked by a gruff exterior.

"Hush," the other two replied in unison, their voices blending in harmony. "You love it," Eddie hummed contentedly, a knowing smile playing on his lips.

He chuckled, a sound that was both weary and amused. He attempted to wriggle free from the affectionate grip of his companions, but their hold was firm. The scene was a testament to the deep bond they shared, a bond forged in the crucible of countless battles and shared experiences.

As the morning light danced across their faces, the trio basked in the warmth of their shared affection. The tension of their daily lives seemed to melt away, replaced by a sense of peace and contentment. It was a simple pleasure, a quiet moment of intimacy, but it was a moment they cherished.

After a few more moments of playful struggle, the man gave up. He was outnumbered and outmatched. With a resigned sigh, he leaned into the warmth of their embrace. The weight of their bodies pressed against his, a comforting weight that soon lulled him back to sleep.

And so, the three of them drifted off, a trio bound by love and a shared desire for morning cuddles. The morning sun continued to stream through the window, bathing them in its golden light, as they slept peacefully, their dreams filled with the promise of a new day and the comforting presence of their loved ones.