#this was supposed to be a small prompt im so sorry guys

[cantgetworsethanthistbh]

stancest prompt :3 teen! stans getting handsy in the locker room after a boxing match

another one im combining together and um anon sorry this took soooo long, im gomma be honest this was my most excited to write but it turned out sm more epxerimental than i expected. not sure about the end result but i suppose i could always write a second version because i just had too many ideas for this one in particular lmaooo I went with Ford having some secret sadism he is very badly repressing so thats where the freaky style comes in

And uh, another ford pov. ive gotta write one in stans eventually lmao

~~

Ford never liked boxing lessons.

He never liked that the air was rich with sweat and dust barely ventilated through the hotbox of a gym, leaving every kid melting into pools of themselves. He never liked the sounds of rubber gloves meeting skin in vicious smacks. He never liked how their god awful, shitty coach would pit his favorites against the littlest guys of the rack, watching the big kids pummel new and inexperienced in some sick delusion that he was honing their skills but really, he was nothing more than a bully letting other bullies have a sick little power trip. Ford has been on the opposite side of those fists, in and out of the ring. He knows how this works, he knows how it plays out.

If there was one thing to like about boxing lessons, it was how getting called a "freak" im the middle of a match had gotten him a couple unsavory wins (but wins nonetheless) himself through sheer rage. Ford hadn't cared about playing fair then— he doesn't have anything to prove. Not to them.

Stan would usually agree, but this is where another one of their most fundamental differences rises: Stan loves boxing.

Ford doesn't know why, nor can he truly begin to fathom how. Back when they were children, Stan had a bigger target on his back for their instructors to send their seasoned trainees after. He was tempermental, but he didn't have Ford's wit and only ever swung his fists around desperately. He got provoked into losing his focus so easily, one second hs'w standing, the other he's being pinned on the mat. He was always the stronger twin between them, sure, but what's good with being a strong kid in a room full of stronger kids? Most of all: he was an emotional wreck after losing, which happened really often.

Stan fell hard and cried harder. And he was beaten down for it even more in the ring, and even outside of it. Moses knows their father didn't take Stan 'embarrassing' the family very well.

And Ford knows the way he used to have swab cotton and disinfectant onto his brother's swelling face.

Ford never liked that. Ford hated that.

But Stan didn't. Stan always came back, barely healed and raring for more

And now—

"And the winner— Stanley Pines!"

The name call catches Ford off guard, dragging him back into reality as the crowd around them whoops excitedly. Up in the ring, Stan is pumping his fists in a little victory lap while his opponent slinked off to the opposite corner. Ford scans, his attention on Stan's body, seeing the usual bruises that would litter his sweaty chest and broad shoulders, some landing even on his jaw. Stan rips his gloves off and spits out his mouthguard and that's when Ford sees it.

There's a cut on his top lip, small but red and angry, bleeding into his mouth. Stan's eyes meet Ford's and he grins, not bothered by the injury as soon as he saw his brother, teeth stained red and wet with blood and spit.

For whatever unholy reason, Ford's stomach stirs at the sight of it, an aching need popping but not that Ford knows what that need actually is. The need to take care of Stan again? The need to strangle Stan because even though he clearly doesn't need these classes anymore, he still keeps going? The need to take Stan by the shoulders and—

Then Stan winks at Ford. And that makes Ford's body stiffen, skin burning, making the quiet twist in his gut deepen further.

"And you're going to drop out after this, right?"

They're in the locker room, lucky to have it all to themselves after everyone else has packed up and left after the final fight. Something had come up in shop and their parents hadn't been able to watch Stan's match, but Stan was excited to retell his great victory or whatever it is. That's not Ford's priority, and hell it shouldn't even be Stan's.

"Wha?" Stan asks incredously, to which Stanford immediately muffles with a damp towel pressing against his lip. The bleeding has slowed down enough for Ford to finally focus on after checking the other bruises and inspecting the rest of Stan's body for any more injuries before he showers. There wasn't any more, thank God, but Ford hates having to check in the first place. His brother's casual confusion ate at his nerves now too, as if Ford said something ridiculous, or he just didn't hear Ford right.

Well, Ford has no issue repeating.

"You're going to stop taking boxing classes, right?" Ford say again. Stan's brow furrowed in confusion, which Ford ignores, as he carefully dabs at his lip. "I mean, at this point it's just pointless to keep it up when you've been going for years."

"Pff, as if. I ain't stopping now," Stan replies, and Ford frowns. "Why would I?"

"Stan... you're bleeding. You're hurt."

Stan chuckles. "Yeah? I always am after a match. Earth to Super Genius Poindexter: the point is to hit each other."

"You shouldn't be bleeding this much," Ford says, gesturing to his brother's face, the cut open lip.

"Aw, Sixer, you've seen worse on my face than that, and look at it. Still prettier than yours."

"Ha, ha. Very funny." Ford huffs, annoyed that Stan clearly isn't taking this seriously. Of course Ford has seen worse, has taken care of Stan when it was worse, but it doesn't mean he likes it. It doesn't mean he likes watching Stan get pummeled even if he wins. Doesn't mean he likes that Stan is sore and winded out after a match. Doesn't mean he likes seeing his brother sweaty and exhausted and turning to Ford's hands for care and comfort, malleable into whatever Ford could want.

He doesn't like that. At all.

Stan chuckles. "I got a match next Thursday, I can't stop now!"

Ford pouts

"Besides," Stan interrupts his train of thought, leaning into Ford slightly, palm on the bench they occupied. "You know I ain't mind the pain, whatever it is you're freaking out about. I'm used to it."

"Stan—"

"In fact," Stan continues, using that voice he pulls to mock Ford's use of that very phrase. He grins that bloody, toothed grin again. "I kinda like it."

The twist in Ford's gut tightens once more, and all he can think is fine. Fine.

Taking his free hand to the back of Stan's neck, he crushes his mouth against Stan's, ignoring his twin's pained gasp when the split lip comes in hard contact with Ford's. He doesn't push or pull away, and doesn't protest when Ford doesn't let up, kissing him and sucking on his lips like a man on a mission. The rich, rusty tang of blood lands on his tongue, filling up his mouth and Ford moans against Stan.

Stan barely exhales out of amusement. "I knew you were into freaky stuff like that."

"Shut up."

Smashing their mouths again, Ford drops the towel in his hand to run hands through the sweat drenched hair. Practically crawling onto Stan's lap, his warm, meaty thighs under his ass. God. Ford's been waiting for this. If anything was worth sitting through another one of those matches it was seeing his brother, dripping with sweat and bulging with muscles.

And having him all alone in his hands for 'immediate care'.

And feeling his hips grind against Stan's own underneath him  or having Stan's hand around his leaking cock while they finish each other in the confines of the locker room like they have so many times before.

Cupping Stanley's face and craning his neck up, pulling him into a deeper kiss while Stan's hands go under his shirt, calloused hands on Ford's back and belly and squeeze. Ford makes a sound at the back of his throat, making him ache for some kind of retaliation. Instead of allowing Stan's prodding tongue access, Ford pulls back, taking Stan's bottom lip in his teeth and biting down. Hard. Stan jolts underneath him.

"Ow. Fuck, Ford."

"Oh, I though you liked that?" Ford sarcastically quips, not waiting  to hear the "yeah, yeah, keep going" to continue kissing and abusing Stan's already injured lips in a. Blood is in his mouth again from the earlier cut, and damn it it tastes good and it feels good. It's raw.Violent.

For a second Ford almost felt the appeal of the sport itself. The primal and animalistic need to hurt someone asking for it, presents itself in Ford in the pained moans Stan makes the more he roughly grinds his hips and presses fingers into bruises, and nip at his lips and pull at his hair. It's cathartic, and it twists sparks in him like a lightning bolt, setting nerves on fire.

And this time Ford caused it to Stan. His dick is straining against his pants, begging for release, with Stan's hand rubbing against him through the fabric. Ford's own were running over his bruised, sweaty skin and sore muscles that he hadn't realized that Stan hadn't even showered yet. But Ford is going to need one too when they're done anyway, so he pulls the band of Stan's shorts enough to release his hard cock. Stan unbuttons his own pants, eyes on their cocks now, licking at his red, abused lips while Ford steadies himself on his shoulder, touching them both into completion.

"Ford..." Stan mutters adoringly and Stanford just loves the way he lets Ford take care of him like this, loves the way he goes weak in Ford's hands. Loves the way he shakes while he comes Ford's hands, and loves the way Stan obeys while Ford drags him to the shower, ready to arrive home late after another good match.

Ford liked that. Ford loved that. And he dislikes boxing lessons a little less everytime.

[shocked-collar]

Ren's the type of man to groom you over online games. The way he can take control of a lobby, the way you attract him with how well you listen and behave- it's just fun for you. Someone who knows what they're doing and who knows how to win the game taking charge because he knows he can. Feeling seen and admired because he recognized your strengths and weaknesses and put you in a specific, coordinated area because of it... But it's so much more to him.

You get praised for you performance. And when you fuck it up, he's very energetic. Basic gamer rage for a moment, before calming down and "Aaagh, that's alright. Next time!". An instant buddy. A stranger you feel the need to defend to other players, because "At least he's actually trying!" and oh god, the things it does to him.

You two become in-game friends. Every time you come online, you're sent a lobby invitation. You two get close. You meet his other friends, he meets yours. Soon enough, you've built an entire team of people on your side. You guys feel great! You feel like one of those famous, competitive teams! And Ren is never shy to tell you how good of a job you do.

Soon enough it's not just the game. It's your social media. You've added each other, and can now peer into each others lives. He loves talking to you. Tells you all the time how pretty you are in all your pictures. Comments on all your posts, likes everything, tags you in things.. Notices how close you two live to each other. He becomes pushy. He wants to talk all the time. His patience is thinning with you. He's almost possessive over you.

"So you played with [---] all day? And didn't invite me?" "Where were you? I missed you..." "Do you even like me anymore? I know we spoke 8 hrs ago, but you sounded cold.." "Fine. Yeah. Go play with [---]. No, I'm not mad, it's okay, just go do whatever you want." "You know I've got problems with being lonely.. You know I can't help it.."

One day, "an opportunity to meet" arises. He's going on a small trip and passing through your area, so you two get to hang out in real life! It's exciting, meeting such a good online friend you've had a while. The meeting is so nice. Ren is a lot smaller than you thought he would be, but his hugs are so strong! Once again, he is complimenting your features, and now, your figure. You two hangout at home for a while. You have fun showing him around, introducing him to any pets you may have, any things you hold dear- and he is very respectful. But he wants to see more.

You offer to take him to see some signature, fun areas in town. He's very excited! It's about an hour into the walk that his colors begin to show. He's got you all alone.

He pins you to the wall and takes you as he likes. Rapes you til your knees can no longer hold your weight. Makes you a mess like you've never been before. A friend you trusted, a friend you've had a while. He hurts you in such an evil way, and leaves you with a kiss. Even when you limp yourself home, you can still feel his hands on your body. You can still feel him inside. Can still feel the choke in the back of your throat, and the bruising he undoubtedly left in your tummy.

You are recovering mentally. Quiet, frozen days roll by, just waiting to be okay again. It's not like he didn't know. In fact, it's what got him off. You've never seen such evil out of a seemingly normal person, not personally. Sometimes you have nightmares about it, and wake up aroused. And now, you can't even go to your best online friend for help, because he did it. You feel like you're drowning. You're so lonely. It's too much to process.

You turn your brain off for a while. For the first time in a week or two, you pick up your controller, and turn on your game. Just a casual play is all you want. You come online.

'You've been invited to a lobby!'

[midnight-black2]

hii! im sending in a request for Jann in the Archie Mademay event :) and this is my first time so sorry im nervous😅!

but prompt 11 really piqued my interest, thought about maybe a (before gt academy) nerdy and shy gamer Jann x popular sporty reader? thank you for your time bye bye :] !!

𝐒𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐒

pairing : jann mardenborough x reader

synopsis : you can't keep neither your mind off of jann nor your hands off of him either

disclaimers : not many, sub!jann, softdom!reader, kissing in public, pretty mild

note : i listened to the song sparks by coldplay while making this, so that's were i got the title, just so it doesn't seem as random lol

most people found it weird how much attention you showed jann. after all, he was close enough to a nobody.

man, society is weird.

all these unattainable standards set by messy, emotional, little humans. i mean, if you wanted to see jann, why should anyone try to stop you? you liked who you liked, and it's not like you could help it. besides, jann was sweet, cute, and ambitious. in your opinion, he was the dream guy.

you two would eat lunch together, walk each other to classes you had during the day, average college couple stuff. you never let anyone give him a hard time, and whenever you attended a social event, he was by your side (whether he wanted to be there or not). he attended all of your [sports] games, etc. the coupley stuff wasn't the weirdest part to people. the weirdest part to people was that you chose to do the coupley stuff with him. you had lines of guys and girls waiting, patiently. stalking and clinging, nagging and hanging--yet you chose him.

people talked, of course they did. negative or positive, they talked.

but over time, it got better. the jealousy never really subsided, but when the two of you walked through the halls, not as many people stared. and when you guys attended parties, not as many people ignored jann.

either way, you couldn't care less. you loved jann more than anything. nothing would change that.

you guys were sat a desk in the back of the library. quiet giggles and whispers could be heard. it was supposed to be a tutoring session, but it always turned out a different way. you always found him more interesting than algebra (or...calculus..?) and simply ended up making out. as jann explained the equation, your eyes lingered on him. you took in his facial features, admiring him not-so-subtly. he didn't notice until he looked over, and his eyes widened slightly. he smiled, before clearing his throat.

"so, do you understand? or do you need me to explain it better?" he asked, and you didn't answer. you didn't quite care, frankly. you weren't failing math, you had a 92%, which is borderline, but far from failing. so, it wasn't your biggest priority. in all honesty, you only kept up with these tutoring sessions to see him. you simply held his gaze, a look on your face he couldn't exactly read.

"were you even paying attention?" he asked, quirking a brow.

"no, not really."

"and by that you mean not at all, huh?" he asked, rhetorically. you nodded, with a small shrug. he laughed, before looking down. "so, uhm, what were you thinking about then?"

"three guesses," you said, smiling. you thought he had to have known by now, considering this is what you do every tutoring session.

"wha-Y/N, you know i'm not very good at this," he replied, cocking his head to the side in slight thought.

"oh cmon, it should be easy," you stated, with a playful eye roll. he lifted his hands up in defense.

"i really don't know," he said, and you couldn't help the laugh the emitted from you.

"gosh jann, you're smart, nerdy, but so incredibly dense."

"well then...just tell me. please?" he asked. and really, how could you say no to him? was it possible if you even wanted to? no. would you really ever want to? also no.

"i'm thinking about how cute you are. you and your perfect pink lips, how kissable they look, and your adorable curls--god, i'm thinking about you, jann. when am i ever not?" you say, leaning in closer as you speak your mind. he was slightly taken aback, before he leaned in as well. he didn't know what to say, so he didn't. he had this look in his eyes you knew all too well.

"can i...?" he queried, reluctantly. you grinned.

"you don't have to ask for a kiss, jann."

"right--sorry." you chuckled, before you kissed him. it was sweet, like honey. he was the one to pull away first.

"you know, you always do this," he said, with a head shake, but with an irresistible beam across his face.

"i know, just can't get enough of you," you said, kissing his cheek. you pecked his lips, nose, jaw, neck, everywhere you could. your hand cupped his face, and he seemed to lean into your touch. you went up for another kiss, which was a bit more feverish this time. your bodies felt hot, and you couldn't wait any longer. or...maybe you could, but you definitely didn't want to.

"let's go to my dorm, yeah?" you said, and he nodded eagerly.

goodness you loved that boy.

𝟐����𝟐𝟒 © 𝐤𝐲𝐚-𝐢𝐬-𝐤𝐨𝐨𝐥

𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐲? 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

[swifty-fox]

writing prompt request: buck/bucky or rosielemmons & domesticity - muse a rests chin on muse b’s shoulder to read/see what they’re holding

congrats on ur fic !! 💕 /solittles

this is so old but thak youuu ee

sorry i wrote them slow dancing im in a fluffy mood

if you were the only girl in the world

"sometimes when I feel bad, and things look blue..."

Gale taps his pencil against the paper in front of him and tries to decide if this was a sad song.

"I wish a girl I had… say one like you. Someone within my heart to build a throne"

He's sat on the sofa, feet tucked up underneath him like a child and trying to headache himself through the sort of mathematical problems that left even him feeling stupid. Bucky's supposed to be in the kitchen cooking a roast, but Gale isn't sure how much singing a slab of beef really needs in the cooking process. He's been banned, regardless of the signing, because the mess John left behind every time he cooked left Gale twitchy and irritable. He doesn't think it's hard to clean as one goes, but John thought it was faster to do it all at once.

"And what if you need something that's dirty?"

"Then I'll wash that one."

The singing draws nearer, bringing with it the smell of woodsy cologne and cigarettes.

"If you were the only girl in the world, and I were the only boy," John croons.

Gale looks up to find him leaning in the doorway, shirtsleeves rolled to his elbows and hair flopping out of its careful gel from steam. He looked good, looked healthy and whole and Gale thinks maybe five years out they were getting somewhere close to okay.

He recognizes the song now, an old Great War ditty that he'd heard crooned from open saloons and bars as a child.

"Bucky," He sighs, hunching over his work defensively, "I told you I'm all yours after supper."

John smiles at him, sweet and broad and eye-crinkling guileless and Gale isn't fooled by the beast underneath for a single second.

"Nothing-" He slides around the sofa and holds a hand out for Gale to take with a challenging smirk, "-else would matter in the world today, we would go on loving in the same old way."

His voice was still awful, but when it was less quiet and booming there was almost a melody to it, something Gale found pleasant if he were pressed to admit. Maybe it was rose-colored affection, maybe John just loved him enough to make the words sound good.

Gale takes John's hand but he makes sure to sigh at him enough to show his reluctance but John presses a bristly kiss to his cheek on the tug up and places his hand at a respectful spot on his waist and gets them swaying.

"A garden of Eden, just made for two," John says, leading him around their small living room, "with nothing to mar our joy."

Sometimes they bicker about it with their hands and their steps, who was leading. Nothing beyond playful, but they were both pilots both left-seaters and giving up the yoke wasn't something they did without good reason. But tonight Gale is content to give it over to John, starving for any moment where the other man's eyes were bright and clear and present. Better every year.

"I would say such wonderful things to you, there would be such wonderful things to do."

John gives over the lead to him, passing it off flawlessly and Gale sways them as John nuzzles his way into his shoulder.

"If you were the only girl in the world, and I were the only boy."

"Think those guys on base know you're such a softie?" Gale asks.

John scoffs, pulling back and freeing Gale back to his seat, "They think I'm somewhere between God and Captain America himself. I don't think it's even crossed their minds."

Gale hums, adjusts himself as John wraps arms around his waist, chin hooking over his shoulder to peer down at the paper.

"It's done wonders to heal your issue with humility"

"mm," John's lips press against his neck, "You're off by two numbers."

Gale pauses and then squints, curving his mouth into a crooked smile.

"So I am."

[the-west-meadow]

hi! hope youre doing good! could I request Lukas Matsson x reader fic with the prompt “why are you awake right now”

im in love with your writing!

so thankful for the Lukas love. got carried away again, 18+ only!!

Lukas Matsson x (fem) Reader

prompt: Why are you awake right now? 18+ ONLY

In an unexpected twist, you spent your first night in Stockholm stranded at Lukas Matsson’s estate with the Roys. A torrent of icy rain had made travel to your hotel nearly impossible, so Lukas had diverted you to his house. He called it your welcome party to Sweden. 

At two in the morning, you were still wide awake. You could hear the sound of a TV from behind Roman’s door, Shiv on the phone with Tom, and total silence from Kendall’s room. As his assistant, you were basically always on call. At least for now, you were off the hook and free to roam.

The house was otherwise quiet, with the sound of icy rain pelting the roof. You wandered the dark halls barefoot. Of course the concrete floors were heated. Beyond dark kitchen, the light of a TV flickered from the another room. You peered inside then froze, looking in at Lukas himself, reclining on the sofa in only a white tank top and shorts. You started to turn and creep away, but it was too late.

“Is the TV too loud?”

You stepped into the room hesitantly, self-conscious in just a t-shirt and shorts. 

“No, it’s fine. I just got lost… on the way to the bathroom.”

“There’s one in your room.”

“Right.”

He gave you a curious glance.

“Why are you awake right now?”

“Jet lag. I never sleep anyway.”

Lukas nodded knowingly. 

“I’ve never met anyone I respect who sleeps well.”

He gestured towards the TV.

“Well, I’m watching Swedish dramas if that interests you.”

You padded into the room. There was no where to sit but on the sofa with Lukas. Tucking your legs beneath you, you took a seat at the far end. You blinked at the screen, where two Swedish detectives leaned over a body.

“I don’t speak Swedish,” you said.

“It’s okay. I’ll explain. By the way, have you tried any of our snacks yet?”

He held out a bag of gummies and you took one, examining it.

“What is it?”

“Bilar. It’s supposed to be shaped like a car.”

“It looks like a rabbit.”

"Yeah. Now that you mention it."

“What is that?” you asked, pointing at his soda bottle.

“Julmust. It’s soda we drink at Christmas.”

“It’s April.”

“I guess I don’t do things like normal people.”

“I could have told you that.”

He gave you another curious look, which turned into a grin.

“Sorry,” you said. “Jet lag. My filter is gone.”

“It’s okay. I've never had a filter. It gets me in trouble a lot.”

He gave you another glance.

“So can we agree to pass over all that small talk bullshit?”

“Fine with me. I don’t have the energy for it.”

“You can hit me if I say something shitty.”

“Sounds like you have something in mind.”

He sat up, putting aside the soda and candy. 

“I could have gotten you guys a ride to your hotel. But I wanted you to stay here.”

“And why is that?”

“Because I don’t know when we’ll have a chance like this again.”

His eyes passed over your bare legs. His arm was spread along the back of the sofa, lingering close to your shoulder. You felt the heat flush into your face. You had caught the looks he gave you at various events with the Roys, and yet this was the first time you had found yourself alone with him.

“Why didn’t you come to my room?”

“I wanted you to come to me.”

You stretched out your legs, grazing his lap.

"I've got all this energy I don't know what to do with," you said.

He slid one hand up your calf, creeping along your thigh. His eyes were fixed on you, watching your reaction.

"I think I can help with that," he said.

You took a sharp breath as his hand pivoted to the inside of your thigh. 

“I think the others are still awake,” you whispered. 

“Then you’ll have to be very quiet.”

He gently took hold of your ankle, pulling you towards him. You wrapped your legs around him, feeling him between your thighs, just the thin fabric of your shorts separating your skin from his. 

“Do you think you can be quiet?” he asked, eyeing your lips, your neck. 

“I’m usually not.”

He let out a low breath, brushing your hair out of your face. 

“I wish I could hear that,” he said. 

“What about you?” you asked, grinding into his lap. He tilted his head back, letting out a low moan. 

“Shh,” you said, then leaned over him, taking his head in your hands. As you kissed him, you felt him grind against you from below, growing harder. He grabbed your hair suddenly, pulling your head back.

“Whoever breaks first loses,” he said. You grinned into his lips.

“Deal.”

In one movement, he picked you up and lay you down on the sofa. He pulled off your shorts, tossing them on the ground, and nudged your legs open with his palm. He looked at you with a glimmer in his eye.

“I think I’m going to win,” he said. He stroked you between the legs with one long finger, gazing into your eyes. You threw your head back, biting your lip. 

“See?” he grinned. “You’re already so wet.”

“Fuck you,” you whispered. 

He slid the finger inside as you stifled a moan. Then with a wink he lowered his face between your legs. You felt his tongue hot and wet against you. 

“Oh my god,” you whimpered.

His other hand slid up your leg as his fingers moved slowly, rhythmically, in and out. You clenched your fists in his dirty blonde hair, meeting his blue eyes as he glanced up to see your reaction. All the while, the TV light flickered silently over your two bodies, pressed against each other on the sofa. 

“I’m still going to win,” you gasped. 

He lifted himself up, gazing down at you with his hair wild, breathless. He kicked off his shorts, buried his hand in your hair, and pulsed into you all at once.  

The moan that escaped you was beyond your control. You felt his entire weight on top of you, cradling you in his huge arms, as he teasingly put a hand over your mouth. 

“You lose,” he whispered. 

Not two minutes later, the door to Kendall’s room slid open. He peered out into the hall. Silence. Padding through the house, he made his way through the kitchen until he saw the TV flickering from the other room. 

He peeked inside. There you sat, side-by-side with Lukas, a blanket over your laps. Between you were several bags of snacks. 

“Hey guys,” he said uncertainly.

“What’s up, man?” 

“I thought I heard something.”

Lukas nodded at the TV. “Someone just got murdered. You want some snacks?”

It wasn’t hard to miss the fact that your hair and Lukas’s was a mess, several pillows had fallen to the floor, and your cheeks were flushed. You looked at him guiltily. Kendall caught your eye and gave a slight grin. 

“That’s okay. I’ll leave you guys to it.”

With a little wave, Kendall withdrew from the room, leaving you alone again.

“Poor guy,” Lukas said. “Guess he can’t sleep either.”

Then he tilted your face towards his and kissed you on the lips. His hand slid beneath the blanket.

“Now, where were we?”

[ohbo-ohno]

congratuwelldone on 1k! well deserved!! how about 'being followed' for the prompt game?

-391780

1k game here - no more please!

i know it's been DAYS lmao im so sorry for dropping off on these. i actually forgot how to speak english for like 4 days there. anyways!!! @391780 tysm for the prompt! i went with price since i know he's your guy :) hope i did him justice!

1.2k of walking home from the bar and running into price. no smut! very sweet actually, i think (cw for implied past bullying in like 3 lines)

Your hands are buried deep in your pockets, one hand wrapped around a can of pepper spray and the other trying not to shake.

God, it's cold. Your nose has gone completely numb, and every puff of breath nearly blinds you until the air clears again.

You curse your past-self for ever being stupid enough to go out with an old group of high school friends. You should've known they'd leave you stranded, and you certainly should've known better than to not take your own car to the pub.

Now here you are, a couple glasses of wine in, taking the miserably long walk home.

It's shameful. You're shamed.

You're so caught up in your own self-pity, you don't even notice that there's someone following you, the crunch of ice and sleet beneath their boots loud. You don't notice until there's a hand wrapping around your elbow, and a low voice saying, "Excuse me, miss-"

You don't think, just react. You're already screaming as you whirl around with your pepper spray held high, spraying it into the night air.

To line up with the rest of your horrible night, it doesn't work. You push down the button at the top over and over again, and yet nothing comes out.

You and the stranger stare at each other, both with wide-eyed shocked expressions.

He's far more properly bundled up than you, with a matching knit hat, scarf, and gloves, and a thick green jacket that looks impossibly warm. You can still see that the tip of his nose is red, even surrounded by all of the bushy facial hair he's got.

You both stand silent for a few moments, your aggressive taps to the top of your pepper spray slowly petering off. Then it just gets... awkward. Just you and the stranger you'd try to pepper spray.

"Uh," you finally say, taking a few steps back from him. His hand falls away easily, but he's quick to reach out and try to steady you again when your heel slips against the sidewalk. "Can I help you?"

He makes a low sound, somewhere between a noise of disbelief and a laugh, and his whiskers twitch around his face. "I was trying to help you, love." He holds a small black square out to you. "You dropped your wallet."

It's hard not to let your mouth hang open, but you manage to keep some of your dignity. Instead of gaping, you snatch the little square of leather with fingers that are just barely shaking, stuffing it and the pepper spray back into your pockets.

"And you thought it would be a good idea to follow me - for multiple blocks - and grab me?"

He rubs his chin with a gloved hand, and you're quite sure that if it were any brighter out you'd see a blush coloring his cheeks. "Well," he gruffs, voice deepening slightly before he clears his throat and starts again. "I suppose I hadn't thought of how it might seem to you."

"A stranger grabbing my arm in the middle of the night? You hadn't thought of how that might look?"

Now you can see his blush. "I'm sorry for the scare, love, truly. Better off scared than without a wallet though, yeah?"

You're still a little shaken up, so you cross your arms tight over your chest and turn up your nose as much as you can. It doesn't work too well, considering no matter how much you try to look down at him he still towers over you.

"I guess," you concede. "Still. It's bad manners to scare a woman like that."

Now he smiles, his eyes crinkling. "Well, I wouldn't want you to think I don't know my manners. How about I take you to dinner, to make up for it?"

Your first instinct is to say no, to continue on your way home and keep an eye out for any shadows following you. And maybe it's the few glasses of wine, the rejection you're still nursing, but it occurs to you that it has been quite some time since you went on a date.

You give the stranger another long look. He's tall and broad, big in a way that sparks interest low in your belly. He's also blocking the wind from chilling you further, and you're not in any rush to lose that.

You sniff, shift a little and roll back your shoulders. "Why?"

He cocks an eyebrow. "Why?"

You make a hurried little gesture with your hand, like yes, obviously.

"Does a man need a reason to ask a pretty woman on a date?"

"He does when he's just followed her several blocks from a bar."

He laughs again, a harsh, booming sound in the nearly empty street. "You're not going to let that go anytime soon, are you?"

You try to bite back the small smile you can feel growing, know you fail when his own grin grows. "No, I don't think I will."

He steps a little closer, offering an arm. "Good. I like a woman with a spine."

You laugh as you take his arm, leaning probably a little too close considering this man is still a stranger. "You'll get all that and a little more with me. Now, if you expect a date, we're going to have to find the closest breakfast place."

He hums, tugging you a little closer and beginning to walk a different direction that your house. "Breakfast?"

"Yep," you pop the 'p', just barely resisting the urge to burrow further into him. He's warm. "I've had wine, which means I need pancakes. No pancakes, no date."

He laughs again, and you feel the vibrations through his side. You can't help but giggle yourself, feeling unexpectedly comfortable.

"Pancakes it is, then. By the way, what's your name, love?"

You tell him, then he repeats it back to you.

"I'm John. John Price."

"Do you carry an ID? I should send someone a picture if we head off together. Make sure they can find my body and all that."

He shoots you a bemused glance, eyebrow raised. "If you're worried I might hurt you, shouldn't you be running the other direction?"

You roll your eyes. "If I ran away from every person I thought might hurt me, I'd never go on a single date again. Is that a no to the ID question, then? Because I'm afraid we'll be cutting our date early if that's the case."

"No, no," he assures, digging his own wallet out of his pants. He holds out his ID a moment later, and you pluck it easily from his fingers with your phone camera already pulled out. "It's good you're so vigilant, love. Feel free to send that to whoever you'd like."

You hum, snapping a picture and quickly making sure it's come out clearly before texting it to your best friend with a quick recap of your little meet-cute. "Military?"

"Yes, ma'am. Captain."

You nod like you know what that means, tucking your phone away again and nudging him forward. "Are you important, then?"

He laughs, this time wrapping an arm around your shoulder and tucking you into his side. "Something like that. Now, I believe you demanded pancakes?"

You can't help but giggle at the word demanded, doing your best to nod seriously. "Of course. Lead the way, Captain."

He hums, rubbing your shoulder, and you can't help but feel hopeful for where the night will go.

[farfromstrange]

heyyy can you do Matt Murdock Smut where him and brat!reader are in a heated argument and the reader is short and small, is feisty and takes no shit.

During the argument he says

“watch who the fuck you’re speaking to, I am not one these idiots who take shit from you”

and the reader is like

“I’m not watching it, no prescription with it, even blind at this point…. what are you going to do about it?”

Matt responds

“im going to put you in your place”.

The reader responds

“you can put me in my place, might a fact since you think you’re supposed to scare me and intimidate somebody I have a solution for that”

So the reader drags a chair to hover over him. Both a face to face banter and Matt laughs at her.

During this smut he is teasing the reader saying

“why did you go quiet? Aint so talkative now hotshot?”

Matt degrades her and calls her little girl and is pounding into her until she admits she will stop being a brat and obey Matt.

Please and Thank You!

Hi! Thank you so much for your request (and I am terribly sorry for the long wait). I started this a few days ago but I couldn't find a proper end. I adapted pieces of the dialogue so they would fit, but I used what you told me to, so I hope you like it!

Feisty | Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Masterlist

Summary: You and Matt get into an argument and he decides it's time to put you in your place again and remind you who you belong to.

Warning: SMUT, 18+ MINORS DNI, PWP, established relationship, Dom!Matt, Brat!Reader, cussing, strong language, teasing, degrading, praise kink, vaginal fingering, mentions of oral (f!receiving), rough sex, unprotected p in v, hair pulling, choking, slight breeding kink (?), marking kink, use of "good girl", semi-public sex (office sex), orgasm denial, fluff in the end

Word Count: 3.2k

A/n: This is some filthy shit. The other requests are coming, by the way. I'm just trying to find ways to continue them. My inbox is still open for your thoughts and requests, but keep in mind that it might take some time for me to finish them. I also always have an open ear for anything else you guys feel like sharing. Enjoy! (and thank you for the request, lovely!)

18+ under the cut!

Sometimes, Matt makes you livid. Like, beyond compare, makes-you-clench-your-fists-and-want-to-punch-a-wall livid. He can be the sweetest and most caring partner, but there often comes a time when you want to scratch his eyes out. Today is one of those days. 

You’re not sure what prompted this argument you find yourself in, but it was bound to escalate from the second you muttered a silent, “Fuck you!” Under your breath. 

Foggy and Karen are out, it’s late and you are both way too overworked. You thought you could get away with hiding your investigation into one of his high-profile cases from him after he explicitly told you to stay away from it, but after watching Karen, you got motivated and it wasn’t until the clock struck twelve today that he opened his files to evidence he surely hasn’t put there and he realized what you were up to. Needless to say that his worry has made him angry. He doesn’t understand how you can be so reckless and won’t take a simple ‘no’ for an answer, and it frustrates him to no end that you refuse to have a proper conversation about the danger you put yourself in and the position he now finds himself in. You’ve made your case pretty straightforward, but you refuse to listen, and that’s what drives him up the walls. 

So when you tell him, “Fuck you!” Under your breath, all self-control and tendency to try and be kind snaps in him. 

“Watch who the fuck you’re speaking to,” Matt says. He doesn’t raise his voice, but the amount of pressure he puts behind delivering his words suffices just enough to get his point across, “I am not one of those idiots who take shit from you!”

Other couples fight too, there is no denying that, but there is something that happens almost every time you and Matt get in such a situation. Your words turn into ticking time bombs, and you are quick to explode. He thinks he’s in control, you refuse to bow down, and then the situation escalates to the point you wonder if the neighbors think you two are anything but healthy. And maybe your fights aren’t healthy, but you love each other and you always find common ground. Eventually. 

But not right now. You refuse to give him the satisfaction of doing what he says or admitting whatever mistake he thinks you made. You were just being yourself, really. 

“Watch it?” you repeat, the words rolling off of your tongue like sour candy. “I’m not watching it. In fact, I’m going to act blind just like you and not even remotely watch it.  What are you gonna do about it?”

He chuckles darkly. “I’m serious, you better watch it sweetheart or I’m gonna put you in your place,” he says. There is something about his silent anger that sends shivers down your spine. 

You’re not scared of him; Matt would never hurt you. The exact opposite of fear happens whenever he talks to you that way, and you want to know how far you can push it because this argument is silly and he’s going to realize that soon enough. But you are not one to back down without a fight, and if you want to get what you so desperately crave, he needs to fold first. But God, he is so hot, and he looks even more alluring with his sleeves rolled up and his cheeks flushed like that. 

He towers over you as if he owns you. You’re a good few inches shorter than him, but that has never stopped you before. He likes to make fun of it, you like to make him regret it. You complete each other and yet you tear each other apart just the same. 

You mimic his stance with your hands on your hips and your head slightly tilted and you know it drives him mad. “You can put me in my place. In fact, since you think you’re supposed to scare me, I have a solution to make it easier for you,” you say. Your voice still sounds like sour candy, but he can’t stomach it. He’s almost allergic to it. All he wants is to stuff your smart mouth with his tie, tie you up and fuck you until you can’t walk straight anymore. Perhaps then you will realize that you can’t do everything without facing the consequences. 

Your vision is red like the towel held before a bull in the ring. Reaching for his office at the dinner table, you drag it out and place it before him. You climb on it, making sure you are face-to-face now and you cross your arms. “There, done,” you say. 

Matt takes a moment to register what you’ve done, and you think you’ve finally won, but then he opens his mouth and laughs right at you. That bastard. 

“Don’t laugh at me.”

He raises his eyebrows. “You’re not seriously telling me what to do, are you, sweetheart?” 

“Maybe I am. It’s not my fault you’re being such a dick.”

Bad idea. 

Suddenly, his arms are around your waist. He picks you off the chair and throws you over his shoulder. It’s almost effortlessly how he carries you over to his desk and throws you on it, the wooden legs shaking under the weight. 

“I’m being a dick?” he growls, leaning over you and trapping you against the desk with his arms on either side of you. “I think you need a reality check.”

You try to wriggle out of his grasp as you snap back, “What are you gonna do, hm?”

He smirks. “What am I gonna do with you? You’re being a brat, don’t you think that’s gonna have consequences?”

“Oh, fuck you!”

“No. Fuck you!” He swiftly pulls you off the desk and spins you around, arching your back far enough to press your chest flat to the wooden surface. “And I mean that quite literally,” he says. 

You gasp when he grabs the hem of your skirt and roughly bunches it up around your waist. The comeback you had planned out gets stuck in your throat when his hand collides with your bare ass cheek. He gives them both a firm squeeze and his grip is almost territorial, as is the growl that comes straight from his soul into your ear.  

“Why did you go quiet? Ain’t so talkative now, hotshot?” he says. 

He doesn’t waste time. Don’t get me wrong, Matt Murdock could spend centuries between your thighs and it would keep him alive long enough to draw orgasm after orgasm out of you as he devours your sweet little cunt like his last meal over and over again. He could stuff you with his fingers all day and then leave you empty just to be craving more. He could rub your clit as hard as possible, then go slow and gentle until your body quivers with the magnitude of an earth-shattering orgasm that has you screaming his name in ecstasy and makes his neighbors complain. He could do it and he loves to do it, but today, he is anything but a patient man. 

Your panties are soon a mess of ripped fabric on the floor of his office. The wetness seeping out of your pussy hits the cold air and you hiss, but all you get in return is a low chuckle. “What’s wrong?” Matt coos into your ear. “Did my pretty little slut forget how to speak?”

There are many buttons he can push to make you obey, even though you don’t often seem like it, but the way he talks to you is by far the easiest to shut you up. 

He slides his middle finger through your slick folds, gathering the wetness and spreading it over your clit. You jolt. He’s being rough already, and when he shoves his finger inside of you, you moan. He curls it up and hits your G-spot without a single struggle, but that’s all he does. He tells you without words that he knows what you want, but he won’t give it to you. Instead, you hear his belt buckle hit the floor, and then it's the tip of his cock that is rubbing through your arousal. 

Your walls clench around thin air. Your cunt barely lets him in, but he pushes inside of you anyway. The pain mixes with pleasure, your legs squeezed so tightly together, you can feel him bulge your stomach from where your torso is pressed against his desk. All air leaves your lungs. Left behind is a gurgled scream that makes him smirk into your shoulder blades as he licks a long stripe over the back of your shirt. 

You reach back to touch him, but he slaps your hand away. “Only good girls get to touch,” he says, “and you haven’t been a very good girl, have you?”

“No,” you sob. His cock is so deep inside of you now, brushing your cervix with every relentless stroke and you hate it. You hate him for pulling this card because he knows you can’t resist. 

Tears are streaming down your face. 

“Pathetic. Always talking back at me but when it’s my cock inside of you, you suddenly can’t speak.” Matt grabs a fistful of your hair at the same time he slaps your ass. “I shouldn’t even be fucking you right now because quite frankly, you don’t deserve it. You don’t deserve my cock and you certainly don’t deserve to come, not like this.”

You clench around him as if to keep him so deep inside of you. “Please, don’t stop. I’m sorry!” your voice echoes through the office in a desperate cry. Your fists are locked up, trying hard not to touch him, but it’s torture. You want nothing more than to put your hands on him, maybe even push him away because God, he is so deep, you’re not sure you’re going to survive. 

Every inch of your body yearns for him. He hits all of the right spots over and over again, and he drives you higher up the precipice, ready to push you over, but you know he won’t let you. It’s the way he purposely avoids touching your clit that tells you that you have to work for that orgasm, but it’s almost impossible when you can’t speak. Every word turns into a moan when he hits the sweet spot inside of you, your eyes roll back and you let out a broken scream of his name. Surely, Foggy and Karen could hear you from home. 

He slaps your ass again, relishing the feeling of the flesh jiggling at the impact. Your skin is hot and sweaty, and there is a clear imprint of his fingers on your hips and your rear now, too. He feels your erratic heartbeat and tastes your arousal in the air. Your muscles clench wildly, and you try your best not to move. You’re moaning, you’re so loud, but no words are coming out of your mouth. It’s just you and him and his cock that manages to make you feel things no man has ever made you feel before. You’re in heaven but at the same time the bus to hell is about to leave, and he is not yet done punishing you. 

Matt grabs a hold of your throat and hauls you back into his chest. “What was that?” he asks, his voice now a desperate puff of air too. 

“I’m s- ugh!” You can’t help yourself; you reach for his hip as he delivers another hard thrust directly against your cervix. 

He slaps your hand away again. “Answer me!” 

“I’m sorry!” Instead, you place your hands on your chest. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to- to- fucking hell!”

His grip tightens around your jugular. “Thin ice, sweetheart,” he barks. 

“Please, Matty, I didn’t mean to… I didn’t mean to! I thought I was… I was doing the right thing and I- ah!”

“Yes?”

“I’m sorry!”

“Uh-huh, what else? Come on, this isn’t an apology when I can tell your tight little cunt is just desperate to come all over my cock. That’s the only reason you’re apologizing and I am fed up with your fucking attitude.”

He wouldn’t let you come that easily, it becomes crystal clear to you.

Matt pulls out of you entirely, cupping your cunt with his large hand, and starts rubbing your clit. It’s a pace you have gotten used to, but the strength he puts behind the pressure he applies once again renders you speechless. 

He smirks, his teeth sinking into your shoulder. “Oh, you’re so wet for me. You’re dripping. I could smell you even from the other end of the city. You’re so desperate, it’s pathetic. You need to come so badly, don’t you? You love when I talk to you like the dirty little whore you are, hm?”

“F-” You bite your lip until you can taste copper on your tongue. “Matthew!” He delivers a hard blow to your clit and you jolt, every fiber of your being high with electricity.

The pain only adds to the arousal that is flooding out of you, or it feels that way because he simply won’t stop, even when you beg him to. You could utter your safeword, but as much as it hurts, his punishment feels so damn good, your body just wants to let go and come. He just has to let you come, and you hate him that he is playing games that make it even harder for you not to.

“That’s not an answer,” he says. 

“Yes,” you choke out, “I love it!”

“I can feel how close you are, baby. You’re squeezing me so tightly.”

“Please, just- I’ll do anything, just let me come!” He has you right where he wants you. 

“Is that so?” He makes you feel so stupid, but you love it. 

“Yes!”

“Then tell me what I want to hear and maybe I’ll put my cock back inside of you. If you don’t, well… I’ll make better use of that big mouth of yours since you love to tell me how much bigger you can be, see if you can swallow as much as you like to chew, but I doubt it.”

Matt’s the cruelest when he stops right before you can tumble over the edge. You grip the desk, your chest heaving with abandon as the orgasm dissipates. He turns you around and grabs your chin roughly between his fingers. “Talk,” he demands. 

You swallow, his brown eyes wild, but you could never be scared of him. “I’m sorry,” you whisper, and then, hoping you’re right with your assumptions, “I’ll stop being a brat and do as I’m told,” you say. “You were right, I’m sorry. I’ll do anything, just please! Please…”

The faintest hint of a smile shows on his face and finally, he leans down to kiss you. It’s a heated kiss, his tongue already halfway down your throat, but you take that as an invitation to touch him. 

Your ass hits the desk’s surface and he spreads your legs again. This time, he slides in a little slower, sensing the soreness of your muscles. Though as soon as his cock is sheathed deep within you, his hips start snapping in the same relentless rhythm from before again. 

You cling to him and the desk, pulling at his hair and just hoping he will have mercy on you this time. As his pelvis grinds against your clit, his tip brushing your G-spot followed by the relentless assault of your cervix, it doesn’t take long for you to fly to the top of the cliff, ready to fall off. 

He kisses you again. “Good girl,” Matt murmurs. 

The praise makes you clench. 

“Such a good little slut.”

He knows exactly how to use his words, the fine line between degradation and praise that blurs into pleasure. He doesn’t hurt you with malicious intent, he hurts you just right where pain and pleasure meet, and he does it because he loves you. He may not always seem like it, especially while you’re fucking, but this is what you both crave, this is what you both need, and he does it perfectly every single time. You can’t get enough of him, he is everywhere, and you couldn’t bare to lose him. 

This time, it is you who kisses him. He can feel the vulnerability in your touch, how your nails no longer dig into his skin but rather caress him. You’re close, clenching, and your moans seem so close to his ear, his cock starts to twitch. He can feel the pressure building alongside yours. 

He changes the angle of his thrusts a little, grabbing your thigh and pushing it up against his chest. “Tell me,” he pants, “Who do you belong to?”

You whimper, “You.”

“That’s right. And whose pussy is this?”

“Yours!”

“Yeah. You have such a fucking big mouth, it’s infuriating. But it’s my mouth. Everything about you is mine, do you understand? No one else gets to have you like this, touch you like this, or see you like this. You get that?”

“Yes!” you cry out as you throw your head back, and his hand is right back at your throat. 

Matt grunts. “Good girl. That’s a good-” he thrusts forward hard, “fucking-” he pulls out and thrusts back in, bottoming out fully, before repeating the same motion as he finishes with a loud, “girl. Now fucking come for me!”

Your body responds to his command before your brain can even register it. The orgasm crashes into you like the wave of a tsunami. Your thighs lock around his hips, you’re shaking, you’re falling, and your moan turns into a scream that is barely muffled by the hand that is still choking you, still holding on as the warmth of his cum fills your abused cunt.

He crashes your lips together, swallowing your noises. With every anguish thrust, he makes sure his cum stays seated deep within you, a reminder that you are no one’s but his, and he’s the only one who gets to mark you like that. Always. 

You wouldn’t want it any other way. 

The moment after is silent. Only your labored breathing fills the air. Matt buries his head in your neck and he holds you there. The roughness from before it’s gone. He is gentle now, seeking your comfort and maybe something else he can’t describe. You melt into his touch. He holds you close and you do the same for him, stroking your hand through his hair. You’re both breathless but you’re calm, and all the stress from before falls off of your shoulders. 

“You okay?” you ask once you find your words again. 

He nods, silently at first, but then he slowly lifts his head. “Did I hurt you?” he asks. 

You’re quick to wipe the guilt off his face. “I’m perfect.”

“Okay, good.” He presses a kiss to your forehead. “I was worried there for a second.”

“You could never hurt me.”

“That’s not entirely true”

“Matthew-”

“I could tell you you’re hot when you’re feisty, but that you’re wrong about 98% of the time.”

You feign a gasp. “Ouch!” you press a hand to your chest. “That was harsh.”

“See?” he smirks, and it tells you that he has found back to himself rather quickly. “Told you,” he says. 

With a chuckle, you pull him down to press a kiss to his swollen lips. “I love you,” you say. 

And Matt is quick to return the sentiment with an even gentler kiss, “I love you too.”

You know that the next time you two fight, you will act the same, you won’t shut your mouth and he will once again find himself agitated enough to fuck you against every surface he can find, but if he knows one thing it’s that he wouldn’t have it any other way, and he loves how feisty you are regardless of what you say or do. He’s head over heels in love with you, and you are a real keeper. 

At least with you, he will never have a dull moment again in his life. That counts for more than you could possibly know. And as he’s holding you close, his cock still buried deep inside of you, he thanks God for putting you on his path. 

[stxrvel]

something #1

guys, i know ive disappeared and im so sorry:(. ive been having trouble getting inspiration to write, bc there are a lot of things going on in my life right now that really demotivate me, butt today i was able to write this out of the blue and wanted to share it with you guys! so i hope you like this, whatever this is going to be a part of, and hope to see u soon! <3

warnings: an unfriendly and unlikeable reader thats most likely to anger you, bad words and lots of hate, friends to enemies to ?????? 1k words

“Are you supposed to be here at this hour?”

Y/N moved away from the locker where she had stowed her things that morning, blowing the strands of hair that had been left out of her hasty ponytail.

“Are you supposed to be my mom?”

James Barnes, from across the room, scowled at her. Y/N returned the gesture, watching him out of the corner of her eye move to the other end of her position to do God knows what.

It had been at least noon since they had returned from the mission and Y/N hadn't dared cross the shower area near the Complex hangar just to avoid that interaction with Barnes. The weights in the gym, the treadmill and all the objects she could hit were more appealing to her than having an ordinary conversation with another human being.

That's why she had waited hours to go back for her things, some clothes and items she usually left in that area to use after missions, but just that day they weren't needed because the frustration was bigger and the anger was eating her alive.

Especially the anger she felt against Barnes in those moments.

“And can you stop taking over the gym? There are recruits who have to train, but you scare them away with that dead face,” Barnes spoke again with his back to her, and Y/N had to resist the physical urge to throw the thermos in her hands at him.

“It's not my fault you train wimps.”

“They're not wimps,” Barnes turned away, sincerely offended. “You actively yell at them to go away.”

“They're my training hours, what do you want me to do? Be kind and let them pass?”

Barnes averted his gaze, slamming his locker with his black backpack over his shoulder, shaking his head as if he couldn't believe he was having this discussion with her.

“Is it even healthy for you to train so many hours in a row?”

Y/N pushed the small locker door as well, the sound of the impact silencing any thoughts of the two of them in the room. “Why the fuck do you care?”

“God,” Barnes raised his head, his face regretful that he'd prompted the conversation in the first place when he could have let it die. “You're impossible to talk to.”

“Then don't fucking do it.”

Their gazes met, each at either end of the room, Y/N closer to steaming out the door.

“You should've stayed with your fucking recruits instead of coming to shit all over my mission,” she couldn't help but spit out what had been rattling around in her head for hours, completely ignoring the grimace beginning to form on Barnes' face and grabbing the doorknob to get out of that cramped space as quickly as possible.

The led lights in the hallway blinded her for a moment, walking in a straight line down the path she already knew by heart to the rooms. Not all Avengers lived in the Complex, but Y/N preferred that to having to constantly run into Barnes in the Tower.

“Hey!” she heard the voice of the aforementioned, but only quickened her pace noticing the hurried pace his own were taking. “Is this all about the mission?”

Y/N stopped her steps in the middle of the hallway, near the stairs, where some agents were walking with dozens of papers in their hands and watching them out of the corner of their eyes. They already knew the routine. They all knew it.

“What, you think that's not enough?”

She turned, with that impossible-to-read expression they'd all grown accustomed to by now. She knew Barnes wanted to believe he could still read through her mask, but he could try to convince himself with fake words all he wanted, because that would never be the case again.

“It was mission impossible, Y/N. Steve agreed,” Barnes paused in front of her, barely casting a vague glance at the people passing them by. His right hand held the strap of the black suitcase so tightly that his veins bulged. Y/N barely snorted at his words.

“Just because you beat me by a majority doesn't mean you're right.”

“So the right thing to do was to go into the lion's den?”

“The right thing was to finish what we went to do, Barnes.”

“The right thing was to get out alive,” he determined, raising his voice. Y/N noticed his eyes red from the closeness they had adopted in the face of the heated discussion, and the faint thought crossed her mind that Barnes wasn't really doing anything productive to have run into her at that precise moment in the gym. She almost broke her expression to slap him.

“If you had followed my plan to the letter, we would've gotten that thing and gotten out alive. Do you really have a hard time accepting that my plan was a good one?”

“I have a hard time believing we would have made it out alive. There were too many of them. You saw them!”

“You know what? It makes sense that you have a bunch of stupid recruits. Like father, like son,” Y/N knew she was touching on a sore point, because one thing Barnes prided himself most on was having his own team look up to him as a role model after all he'd been through, but she'd stopped caring about such things quite some time ago.

“Y/N…” Barnes lowered his voice, taking a deep breath and looking at her through his eyelashes.

“If you show them your way, they're not going to survive a day in the field.”

“That's what you think.”

“That's what I know, because this job is who I am. Stop living like you're made of glass,” she looked him up and down one last time, his face contracting in an emotion she wouldn't allow herself to feel anymore. The memories that surfaced that melancholy face almost made her vomit in the middle of the hallway.

Maybe there was a time when Y/N thought she could have a good friendship with him; a time when he would've thought she could become a good friend. But none of those moments lasted long, rushing away like a shooting star, disappearing into space like smoke.

“We made the right decision,” Barnes wasn't going to budge and he was going to have the last word and she knew it because she just knew him so well. She almost laughed in his face at how predictable he had become. Emotions really did make people weak, and in this job that was a very big danger.

“Keep convincing yourself of that and you're going to end up dead.”

Y/N paced before Barnes could answer her, a bitter feeling settling in the pit of her stomach. She knew he would follow her with his eyes so she tried to pick up her pace without looking too much like she was trying to flee from his sight. It was torture to be around him after all.

[pwr3tties]

⋆.ೃ࿔* COUCHES ! - ,,

includes: sae

warnings: slight angst with comfort, fem! reader, grammar errors, fluff, arguments, over 400 words and lowercase intended!

a/n: hello, it's me again, this is a pretty popular prompt, so i thought i’d try it! if you want a part 2, comment or message me with what character(s) you want, and ill try to make it!!

SAE — ‘you sleep on the couch ’

after the heated argument between your boyfriend and yourself, it was no surprise that one of you had to leave the house, or your neighbours might have called the cops to check on the two of you.

papers were scattered across the lounge, shattered glass and the match of sae’s soon-to-be opponents, which quickly became background noise due to the screaming match between sae and yourself. sae, being the petty man he is, left the house with a slam of the door, leaving you with nothing but your quiet sobs and the mess that was made during the dispute.

scanning the house, you began to pick up the shards of glass to prevent anyone from getting hurt, and by the time everywhere was tidied up, it had just reached 11 PM, and there was still no sign of sae. although the two of you had fought, that didn't mean you had no sympathy left in your heart.

reaching for your phone, you dialled his number as it rang once, twice, then thrice and soon went to his voicemail which was still set to default because he thought, “telling someone you’re not there when they already know is irrelevant.”

and after your 5th attempt, you gave up and quickly showered, then grabbed a few pillows and blankets, making a nice bed on the couch. the clock ticked 12:17 as the door creaked open, scared to wake you. sae slid off his sneakers as he tiptoed upstairs into the shower, hoping to get at least 8 hours of sleep before waking up for his morning jog.

around 12:50, sae finally infiltrated your shared bedroom and slipped into bed, rubbing the back of a pillow, which you were supposed to be. once sae realized there was no other form of life in the room, he rushed downstairs to where you were fast asleep with your mouth slightly parted as the moon hues hit your face ever so gently.

sae couldn’t help but admire you as he lifted you from your spot on the couch, carrying you up to your rightful place on the bed beside him. squirming, you fluttered your eyes open as sae plopped you on the mattress laying beside you. “sae? what are you doing?” you groaned, rubbing the sleep out your eye to see your boyfriend who had his face stuffed into your neck.

“sleeping..” he muttered softly, “that's what you should be doing.”

“I was until you brought me upstairs against my will,”

“just go back to bed, i have to wake up in a few hours.” sae groaned, fixing his position and squeezing your waist a little tighter.

“did you forget how you not only walked out on me but also listed ten different ways on how I'm ‘insufferable’?” you scoffed, gently pushing sae away.

“no,” he grumbled, slightly getting up.

“then what are you supposed to say?” amused by his behaviour, you settled your weight onto your arm, getting a better view of him. “‘m sorry, k. it was messed up of me to push you out when all you wanted to do was to care for me and help me to relax, i know im a horrible boyfriend, i might even be the worst one ever to exist, but please let me have this right now, my love.”

“who are you, and what have you done to my boyfriend?” you chuckled, ruffling his hair. “it's all me, promise. Now can we go to bed and talk about this in the morning like reasonable adults?”

“of course,

.

.

.

my big baby.” was the last thing you small while placing a kiss on his forehead and slowly drifting off to sleep in his arms.

word count: 528

a/n: hihihi, i was going to add more characters but i got lazy and decided you guys needed a post so yeah but pls moot me, im boreddd!! 😁😄😀😕🙁☹️😢😭

[cupoftaae]

Can you please do prompts 5 and 12 for Yoongi? Thank you in advance!

Hi lovie! sorry for getting to this a tad bit late! I hope you enjoy -nini

-"well..yell, scream, say something, say you hate me, anything"

-"i'll wait for you"

x YOONGI

warnings- swearing, cheating, angst, breakup :(

You and yoongi sat in the small booth of your favorite cafe, it was right in the corner and provided the right amount of privacy and great window viewing.

You both had your first date here in this booth when you had met in college, you were both freshman- he saw you and knew he had to have you in any way he could.

So- like any reasonable man, he offered to take you to get coffee and a bagel, and because yoongi is yoongi, you couldnt say no.

A few months later, he asked you to be his girlfriend in that booth, and not too long after that, you both kissed for the first time in that booth.

The torn seating, the uneven table, it wasnt much but to a young couple it symbolized a growing relationship. You had cried, laughed, had small arguments, ate, flirted, you name it- it was all here, in this seat with him.

Today, though, 5 years later, the coffee and bagel meeting was under different circumstances.

It all started with a "I think we need to talk"

You had never expected to hear what you heard come out of yoongis mouth.

"I hooked up with Jen"

You remained still, slowly putting your coffee down as you looked back, your eyes trying to decipher whether he was joking around or not- but the way his gaze stuck to his lap told you everything you needed to know.

He began to speak again, "Im sorr-"

"when was this?" your voice was calm, and steady

He looked up at you, "last weekend"

You nodded, "so...when you went over to jungkook and tae's apartment?"

He slowly nodded

"you told me you guys had work to do"

"we were- we had been working but then jungkooks girlfriend came over and brought jen because they are friends....we all drank....it was a mess....I was leaving, drunk, and jen was there and it just...happened"

His words were choppy as he anxiously picked at his bagel, a slight panic in his eyes once he gained courage to look up at you

Instead of finding anger, he was met with a neutral expression, as if he hadnt done anything at all. To be honest, this scared him more.

You slowly took a breath. You were expecting this, deep down hoping it would never happen, but the men in your life had a way of proving you wrong and failing you at any chance they got- so were you hurt? a bit, but shocked? fuck no.

You nod, feeling your heart twist in pain as you allowed yourself to think for a moment. You simply look up at him and offer a small smile before grabbing your coat and turning to stand up.

"w-wait!" he stood up as well "where are you going?"

You looked up to him, small smile still evident, "well, yoongi, I dont see why i need to be sitting here. Why drag this out?"

His eyes widened "so-...youre breaking up with me?" he whispers, fearful, as his hand still is holding your arm, knowing if he lets go- you leave.

You shrug, trying your best to keep your emotions in. "what else am i supposed to do?"

He rapidly shook his head "well...yell, scream, say something, say you hate me, anything!"

His voice was panicked

"yoongi..." you softly began, "you brought me out for lunch today....to our spot, to tell me you cheated-"

"it was an accident!"

"that you told me a week after it happened. if you cared I would have been made aware of it right away, or....you know...not have had it happen at all."

He breathes heavily, looking around at the semi empty cafe before eyes turning to you again

"it wasnt anything, it didnt mean anything, baby please-"

"people who love eachother dont hook up with other people, even when they are drunk, yoongi. You are telling me this to clear your guilty conscious, not because you are sorry"

"no baby..please..please no ... no" he tears up and grasps your coat, but you only yank away.

"goodbye yoongi"

"Y/N stop, please"

You look at him for a moment as he tries to collect himself,

"its...its ok...be angry, ill wait for you" he sighs

You shake your head, confused. "yoongi...this isnt about waiting. I am not gonna be cheated on, this hurts me....a lot. And I need to be......away from you."

His heart sunk to his stomach as he watched you turn to leave, regretting not running after you. Was it over just like this?

A small little booth, once filled with a budding romance is now just a signifier of what only crashed and burned...hard.

[sugar-omi]

it would be really nice if you could put a little note before your rambles if you're going to make the "reader" a girl. you've always been very inclusive in the past, its just not very pleasant to be reading stuff when you're in a not-great headspace, and you expect it to be gender neutral because your writing usually is, but then you get jumpscared by that. not trying to be rude, its just an unfortunately common pet peeve for gender diverse people reading fanfics and i thought you'd understand

I'm sorry you're not in a great headspace, I get it. I've been there.

and I do try to tag it somewhere, especially if it's a long ramble or if it's not obvious in someone's ask that it's clearly (or at least to me) fem/afab aligned. but I suppose I should make more effort into putting that small tag somewhere.

regardless of that though, even if it's not your intention, this is very rude. it seems like you're blaming me for your bad feelings and it's very upsetting. I'm not sure what triggered this message, if it's a build-up from previous posts or because of recent posts. but while I understand, this still feels very rude.

I try to be accommodating all the time. I try to be accommodating in majority of my posts, even if they're afab or amab reader because I know people use different pronouns. I'm agender, and have used he/him pronouns for years, and exclusively used he/him at one point. and at times it was upsetting to have to consciously ignore she/her pronouns or feminine terms when i was feeling particularly *insecure (*for lack of better word)

but this is not my job. I write for fun. and i try to be accommodating because i want to have fun with everyone, sharing good stories and talking about games and such.

I have many, many works, that are gender neutral, and even a few amab/masc reader fics.

but the "I thought you'd understand" is crazy to me. I'm sorry you're having a tough time, again, I've been there. but i am one person. I'd like to, and will write gender specific stuff.

and sometimes, I rely on you guys to read someone's ask (since that's all I've been responding to for months now) and figure out if the post will be gender specific. especially since we've been talking abt pregnancy or raw sex, or breeding kinks a lot for awhile now.

but still, you're right. I should tag it.

and im sorry if reading whatever post it was, made you feel worse. but it's not my job to cater to everyone. I can only do so much. and to me, it's disrespectful of me to make something gender neutral when someone (clearly) wants it gender specific.

please don't try and guilt me for writing gender specific posts. when I make damn near every post on this blog gender neutral/inclusive.

I don't have time or energy to make sure of that. and even if I did, I am not obligated. I appreciate you reading my work thus far, and I thank you for the support. sharing my work and having others enjoy it brings me great joy.

I try to make things inclusive, but it's quite frankly mentally tiring for me to do that all the time.

even though you say you arent tryna be rude, i find this to be very entitled the way you speak beyond the "please tag" point. please do not blame me for your feelings. I will make a conscious effort to tag it from now on, since I'm sure others would like the heads up too. I usually just leave it off since sometimes I expect it to be obvious based on the prompt. but I don't know anymore, maybe I'm wrong.

next time, please leave it at "hey, can you tag your ramblings if they're going to be afab" or whatever.

[faela404]

☆ The Library ☆

kazuha x gn! reader

prompt: - you and kazuha attend the same university, him being a english lit major and you being a person in stem😎 your paths never crossed until that day in the library…

*this is an smau so please do expect a lot of twitter posts and messages to read, there will be proper writing too but, it will mostly be that!!*

warning! mentions of alcohol consumption, pictures including cigarettes and alcohol, weird xiao stans, swearing, mentions of a fear of loneliness,

masterlist - prev | next

☆ unexpected ☆

12:17am

kazuha sighed as he decided it was finally time to head towards the library. he couldn’t just sit there looking through his friends tweets and listening to that awful music his roommates were playing.

quickly, he gathered his belongings into his bag and hauled it off towards his bedroom door. he was surprised none of the partygoers outside had tried to barge into his room yet, perhaps his roommates were being more respectful of his space today.

quietly, he slipped out from behind his door and began weaving between all the drunk students. god the smell of all that alcohol on their breath was revolting.

sure, there’s nothing wrong with drinking but the thought of gathering over 100 people into one room to just drink was disgusting to him.

he managed to get through the open door without anyone trying to grab or talk to him and swiftly he made his way towards the stairs.

this was gonna be a long night for him.

3:04am

shit. shit. shit.

professor ningguang is going to kill me if she goes in that stupid library in the morning and none of it has been cleaned.

i’m gonna be so tired in the morning, i already know it.

nevertheless, i quickly slip my shoes on and run out of my dorms. i know for a fact if anyone was to see me right now, running in my pajamas, my hair an absolute mess and cherry vans on my feet, they’d think i was insane, but i don’t have time for notions like that.

i finally managed to make it outside of the library without tripping over, but just as i opened the door and walked in.

i crashed.

we crashed.

into eachother.

his books scattered across the floor, making a very loud BANG! as they hit the wooden flooring.

what the hell is someone else doing here right now-

“im so sorry” he mutters out. despite sounding tired and a bit groggy, his voice is so calming, so sweet.

the library is dark, i can barely make out his features, but his hair. his hair is beautiful. the shine from the few lanterns decorated across the library reflect against his pearl white locks. i can make out what appears to be a thick strip of red pulled back into a short ponytail at the back of his head.

im staring.

oh god im staring.

“don’t apologise, it was my fault” i sound out of breath, i mean i am but he doesn’t need to know that. carefully, i begin gathering his books with his help and handing them back to him.

he mutters a small “thanks” as gratitude as he moves past me to leave.

im alone again now.

the guy is gone, probably to sleep.

yet im stuck here cleaning.

great.

i might as well start, i suppose.

this is gonna be a long few weeks.

a/n - thank you all so much for the support on chapter one! i appreciate you all so much! i hope you enjoyed this chapter! if you want to be added to the taglist please feel free to ask either in the comments or in my asks! either is fine! take care of yourselves <3

taglist - open! @kazuhaprnt @ryhie @scaraapologist

[leclercenjoyer]

uh

"pierre?" charles says, voice small, "are you still awake?" the arm she has around pierres middle tightens, pulling them closer together. shes warm against pierres back. 

"what is it, squid?" 

"how did you know you were into guys?" and the question is so unexpected it throws pierre for a loop. theres layers to that question, she knows, ones that her sleepy brain isnt equipped to process at the moment. 

"dunno," pierre answers honestly, "probably some actor I thought was hot. or, you remember that drummer from that band i was really into-" 

"yeah but i mean like. actual guys. guys in real life." and charles sounds a bit frustrated, like pierre isnt getting it. 

"darling, what is this about?" Pierre asks, and grabs charles hand, strokes her thumb across the back of charles' hand, aiming for soothing. 

"i dont know if i ever… got that. you know that 'oh shit, hes hot' moment. i always thought everyone was exaggerating, or playing it up because they were supposed to. i thought i was supposed to." 

pierre thinks of teen nights spent in charles' room, reading girly magazines, how charles had never seemed quite as enthused now that she's looking back with the clarity of hindsight. she squeezes charles' hand, urges her to continue. 

"but now, with you, its different," and pierres heart thumps in her chest, but charles continues, "like, i get it now." 

"get what, angel?" pierre prompts, and she has an inkling of what charles is getting at, but she wants her to say it, knows itll help to put it into words. 

"what its supposed to feel like."

pierres breath hitches, and she curbs the urge to roll over and kiss charles silly, knows its probably easier for charles to get it all out like this, with pierres back to her. 

"i thought it was normal, just. you know, regular best friend stuff. i used to… god, this is fucking stupid, but i used to compare them to you. like, how i felt around them, versus how i felt around you. and they never matched up, not even close." 

and thats not something charles has ever told her before. theres so much, just in that statement, so much charles is trusting her with. 

"but it all makes sense, now," charles continues, "because with them i used to feel. i dont know, awkward. in the way. like i was playing a part and i didnt know my lines."

pierre laces their fingers together. 

"but with you it feels. right. you make me feel wanted. sexy, even. i never got that. before."

and the way charles is saying all this, pierre can tell shes been thinking about this a lot, knows her well enough to know shes been putting the lines together in her head, scripting it out as a way to put her thoughts into order. she squeezes charles' hand again, pulls it up to her mouth to press a tiny kiss to her palm, to the delicate skin of her wrist. 

"basically what im trying to say is, ive never felt like this about anyone, before you. and its a little scary but also not. because its you." 

and pierre cant take it anymore, has to kiss her right now, because she can, so she lets go of charles' hand and turns around in her arms, feeling around with her hands in the dark until she finds charles' soft cheek, finds the corner of her mouth with her thumb and leans in to press a soft, lingering kiss to her lips. 

"ive never felt like this before, either," she says, voice earnest and choked, "like, ive been attracted to people. but ive never been in love before." 

and the words left unsaid in that statement ring loud in the silence, before, before. before now. charles freezes, and pierre freezes, heart in her throat, barely daring to breathe because shes laid it all out now, theres no going back, and she has a moment to worry shes fucked it all up, before charles pipes up:

"i think im a lesbian," she blurts out, and theres a beat of silence before she breaks into wheezing giggles, the sweetest sound pierre has ever heard, and fuck, but pierre loves her. 

"fuck, im sorry, im sorry, if i didnt say it now i was never gonna get it out," charles chokes out between wheezes, "hang on, hang on," and she takes a deep breath, trying to get herself under control, and pierre cant help her own little laugh. 

"easy, squid," she says, stroking her thumb across charles' cheekbone, waiting for her to calm down. it takes her a few moments, a few false starts where it seems shes gotten it under control before she breaks again, and pierre waits, because no. matter what, she will always, always wait for charles. 

"i love you," charles says finally, when she can catch her breath again, and its nothing they havent said to each other before, except, "im in love with you. youre it, for me." 

and pierres heart squeezes in her chest, lighter than its ever felt before, and she leans in to press another kiss to her lips. 

"youre it for me, too," and pierre is pretty sure its been coming for a while, but to have it laid out like this feels like. she doesnt have a point of comparison. theres nothing like this in the world, shes pretty sure, tripping headfirst into love with her favorite person in the world, and knowing she'll match her every step of the way.

"and congrats on the lesbianism," she adds, because she wants to hear charles' bright peal of laughter again, matches it with her own before she muffles them both with a kiss. 

[nishipostitz]

hi i really liked your 'haikyuu boys seeing you in revealing clothing for the first time'. could you write the same prompt with noya, kageyama, kenma and iwaizumi or whoever u want, really. i apologize in advance if you don't take requests, feel free to reject this

ive actually been wanting requests bc i dont have any inspo to write rn 😭 so this was a god send 🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏 alright lets go 🤠

IM SO SORRY HOW LATE I POSTED THIS 😭 ive been so unmotivated to write lately 😣✌️

part 2 to ‘how haikyuu boys would react to you wearing revealing clothes’

iwa, noya, kags, and kenma x gn!reader

tw! it’s gonna be suggestive if im being honest. uh the gn!reader turned into a fem!reader in noya’s.. sorry yall. yall im sorry kenma sounds like a perv 😔

iwaizumi

- if im being honest, he goes to the gym regularly

- so hes used to it… but

IWAI SAW YOUR LATS!! and he loves them. also bc youre only wearing short shorts that show off those quads and he just. wow. he loves them. bc yk him

noya

- this man has never seen the real deal

- bc i just know he has posters and magazines

but noya never actually took initiative to see the package for himself. so when he saw you wearing an oversized sweater with booty shorts on, he literally had steam coming out of every pore on his head bc of how flustered he was. yeah kiyoko was his crush, but he never imagined himself to be interested in another woman. especially asahi’s sister 😟. bc how could jesus asahi have a sister like you? noya didnt even intend to look at you. he just so happened to look in your direction when you were walking up the stairs. and asahi noticed.. surprisingly. “i can hook you up man. my older sister has been quite lonely lately. but you have to do something for m-“ noya didnt even think twice. if asahi could help him land a date with you, he’d do it. “asahi hook me up!”

kageyama

- you already know

- this man is so handsome but he has no game

ok so.. to sum it up. he was happily enjoying his lone time, watching highlights from his play, and he heard a noise from outside. it was you, washing cars on the driveway. kageyama was so shocked to see you washing cars, because a, who does this in february, b, why on a driveway, and 3, why are you wearing barely anything. kageyama was literally so flustered, but like why dude… 💀 y/n cant even see you. but yeah…. lets say kageyama dirtied up his parents’ cars so he could see you again………….

(guys im sorry kageyama’s sucked 😔)

kenma

- my bro is literally gaming

- he turns and he sees you walking past his door

*shiver me timbers did i see that right???* he thought. first things first, he was on a twitch stream so he cannot possibly act up rn. and two, why were you in his house? wasn’t just kuroo supposed to come over? but its fine. he got some good views, but he was very flustered and shy. but that really motivated him to win many of his games. after he finishes his games, he went downstairs to see what you and kuroo were doing. kenma couldnt look you in eye after seeing you wear such a small amount of clothing. a tank and shorts. kenma almost got a nosebleed… 😔

[seasinkarnadine]

prompt snippet

okay so Im still working on the prompts yall sent (Im now upwards of 4,000 words...) but I wanted to share a little sneak peek as thanks for sending. (Prompts: 4. Trying to hide your injury from them, but failing miserably once you faint right in front of them

Imogen calls Ruidus and takes way too much damage (does Laudna even know about this?)

----- It’s a bandit attack. That’s why the smoke smells weird. The meat cooking isn’t cut from a hare and roasted on a spit; it’s human remains. It’s charred hair and clothes and blood. “Well, fuck.” Ashton hefts their hammer on one shoulder. “Now what the fuck do we do?” Imogen looks at the overturned crates and smashed carts. The debris is scattered all over the hillside. The bandits seem long gone.

“Don’t suppose they mighta missed it?” She asks while she turns over a bucket with her boot. Fearne purses her lips as she looks out over the ruined campsite.

“Mama said that this captain, what was his name? Crawford? Crake?”

“Crotchgrab?” Chetney supplies.

“Cramer,” Imogen corrects.

“Yeah, Crampy, that he would probably keep it close to him.” Fearne nods. “So if we can find his body, it might be in one of his pockets.” As if to demonstrate she reaches into the depths of her fur and withdraws something small, hard, and round. She gives it a sniff, and then shrugs and pops it into her mouth. A moment later she spits it back out and scowls at it.

“We might not even need to do that. Hey Letters, are we close enough for you to cast Locate Object?” Imogen asks. The little robot wheels up beside her with a contemplative hum.

“Let me give it a try…. Oh!”

“Ya get somethin’?” Imogen leans closer to him like it’ll cause the effects of the spell to transfer to her.“I sure did! Come on, this way.”

“Don’t get too fuckin’ far ahead!” Ashton shouts after them as Chetney mutters,“Somethin’ about this place is makin’ my nose itch…”

“Something dangerous?” Orym asks.

“Might be. Might be.”

“Let’s everyone keep alert.” Orym says. He adjusts his grip on his sword, a determined crease to his brow.

It’s only as Imogen starts following after that she realizes Luadna’s hand slipped from her grip. Looking back she sees Laudna silhouetted against the night sky. In front of her is a shallow pit overflowing with corpses. Flames leap from the bodies and spew sparks up into the darkening sky. Laudna stands at the edge, staring into the flames, unmoving..

“Laudna?” She doesn’t move. Why isn’t she moving? “Laud, honey?” Imogen steps towards her.

“Mmm? Oh, sorry, lost in thought. Did we find it?” She smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes.

“FCG thinks they found it.” Should she ask if everything is alright? Or should she wait for Laudna to say something? She could always take a peek…no, no. Boundaries, Imogen.

“I’m alright,” Laudna says reassuringly. This time her smile graces her lips with a natural curve.

“Yeah?” Imogen smiles back and reaches out her hand. Laudna takes it.

“We’re going to get this gem, and we’re going to power that machine, and we’re going to figure out what is going on with Ruidus, and we’re going to make your nightmares stop. And then we’re going to get ourselves a little house in the Heartmoor and I’ll bake you cookies every day.”

Surrounded by burning bodies and blood isn’t a place one should feel joy, but that doesn’t stop a laugh from escaping Imogen’s chest.

“Yeah. Yeah, we are.”

 “YOU GUYS COMING?” Ashton hollers from halfway up the hill. The others are waiting near the top.

“We’re coming!” Laudna waves back to him. “Shall we?” Imogen links their arms and they follow after their group.

[thejournaluser]

HELLO stranger! welcome to my posts- or blogs- or whatever! i still dont know how to use tumblr or how it works!!! this is basically my randomness stuff, take it as you will. i might do blogs just to post poems and stuff, but ye. Enjoy your time here in my acc!

account announcements log:

(jan 26) made lots of poems before making this account. might post them all but it takes a while ughghghg

(jan 27) im starting to write my thoughts here as well. oh well, might as well make fun here in this account LOL

(feb 4) might wanna post stuff about my ocs. dunno why but i thought i wanted to be famous but eh seems illogical

(feb 11) i might write random shitposts because im THAT out of ideas and full of boredom. mega spoilers tho-

(feb 15) hiya peeps. not feeling the ups right now, just the downs. it'll go away eventually but right now i'd rather feel the emotions than bottle them up. i'll be back soon.

(feb 19) hi y'all. im back from the downs and im currently in a valley in between (istg if any beasts would appear i would-) anyway time to do my usual

(feb 20) woah, did not expect my writing prompts to be getting attention lol. might do those just to get some hearts and all. enjoy the stuff btw!

(feb 22) did NOT expect for my post to get this much attention lol. this account was supposed to be a dump for my creativity BUT im glad people are enjoying it. Thank y'all for staying!

(mar 3) might not be up for it but uhh i wanna do story prompts with a side of shitposting. i already did a sample a few hours back here

(mar 5) i dunno anymore. should i turn this posts of mine into a public confession? i mean, no one might read it lol.

(mar 6) lore???

(mar 19) i decided to write something today. a small project, really but due to some trouble i did in school, it inspired me to write it. enjoy.

(apr 6) hello. i'm still alive. anyone alive, still? i stopped the project for now. i'm so burned out.

(apr 12) tasked my friends and fam to give me one word only. and from that one word, i'll have to make a story prompt out of it. enjoy my silly ideas

(apr 13) aight guys. i might make one sentence writing prompts soon.

(apr 17) introducing The Rooftop, a once-planned short story turned into a long series. hope u guys enjoy

(apr 24) hi guys sorry for not posting anything in a while. school's anniversary week and it's absolutely draining now that instead of going home at noon, i now go to school in the evening. i basically live inside the school now

(apr 27) IM BACK! but i'll still be gone in a few days. still have a lot of things to do and too tired to make story prompts.

(may 12) i have to make to make an announcement in may cuz i don't wanna miss a month just in case. also, to make sure i actually did say something interesting: here's my most popular post

(may 22) ok uh im kinda having a slight anxiety attack rn due to drinking three cups of coffee in one sitting

(may 22, pt2) ??? aight, sorry for the past announcement. it was me freaking out. anyway, im fine now and just listening to music to calm myself down. ngl it's getting hot now with three layers of blanket i just put myself in.

(may 26) on may 24 i think... i called, and they hung up.

(may 27) sorry for making the last announcements too personal. anyway, i noticed that i've been reading a lot lately and been getting into different fandoms thanks to this website. might make a blog dedicated to making reviews. dunno

(june2) wassup. birthday and graduate here. and also a fellow pride month celebrator.

(aug 15) woah, been gone for quite a while. anyway, hi.

(oct 8) literally didn't make a single update on september lol. hi hello welcome to another update on my announcements log. so let me give you all a proper update on what's been going on:

i am now officially a college student (yippee), and the workload is so oh my god. all current projects i have will either be on hiatus or dropped. such as The Rooftop, which I'll be honest I have not even realized existed until i read my past updates. anyway, yeah, hi.