#which gets worse the longer you don't sleep or eat

[julesnichols]

People with major depression saying they wish they got manic episodes so they'd feel better oh my god shut up shut up SHUT UPPPP!!!!!!!

[cuntwrap--supreme]

Dog has a swollen lymph node. Just one for now. Which means her cancer is getting worse already. The longer this goes on, the more detached I feel from reality.

[ccsainzleclerc5516]

I’ll Take Care Of You

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader

Warnings: sick Lando, smut

You weren't supposed to show up at the Las Vegas GP because you had your own business commitments, but knowing the state Lando was in, you decided to drop everything and come with him. You knew he needed you there and there wasn't a second of doubt in your mind whether or not to go with him when you saw how sick he really was.

After Brazil, Lando was not feeling well mentally. He couldn't sleep, he wouldn't eat or drink, his mood was at zero and all of this affected his immune system which resulted in him falling ill just before the Vegas GP.

Your heart ached seeing him like this because you knew there was nothing you could do except be there for him until he got through it. The only good thing about all of this was taking the pressure of being a world champion off his shoulders until next season at least.

Before the Vegas race, Lando could barely function, to be honest. His nose was blocked, his head was pounding, and he could barely hear in one ear.

As you closely followed the race in the garage, it no longer mattered to you which place he would take, you just prayed that he would finish the race safely and successfully so you can get him out of there.

So once the race was finally over, you were relieved, and so was he. When he got out of the car and took his helmet and balaclava off his head, he immediately looked for you with his eyes.

"Baby.." You looked at him sadly, approaching him and extending your arms towards him. "Are you alright?"

"Hey, love" His head fell onto your shoulder as he buried his face in your neck, pulling you closer to him. "I feel so sick" He sighed quietly and you immediately put your palm against his forehead to check his temperature.

"Lan, you're burning"

He was exhausted, so tired he could barely keep his eyes open and head up. He desperately needed to rest and all you wanted was to get out of there as soon as possible.

"Go get changed and we're going to the hotel, okay?" You tell him.

"No, I don't wanna go to the hotel, I wanna go home." He says.

"Lan, you can't get on a plane like this. You need to get some rest first and then we're gonna go home"

"No, please baby, I just wanna go to our home, please. I really need it. I know I'll feel better as soon as we get home." He whines. You sigh for a moment just looking at him as you ponder if this really is a smart decision. "Please" His eyes plead and you finally agree.

He was clinging to you the entire flight, holding his head in your lap and trying to sleep. He still had a fever so you improvised compresses to put over his forehead.

Lando wasn't sick often, but once in a while when he caught a cold, it would wipe him out. It was the same this time. He was bedridden for a week, and you were there every day taking care of him. He wasn't even exaggerating, he was really sick and you were worried he would get dehydrated or his condition would get worse. You even wanted to take him to the emergency room, but he promised he was fine and just needed you by his side.

Once he finally felt well enough to get out of bed and go further than the bathroom, you felt a pair of arms hug you around your waist as you prepared lunch in the kitchen.

"Hey, baby" Your eyes lit up when you saw him.

"Hey" He smiled nuzzling his head into your neck and leaving a kiss.

"Are you feeling any better?" You asked.

"Mhm. My throat is still a little sore, but I feel much better." He says in a hoarse voice.

"Well, good then." You rise on your tiptoes to leave a kiss on his cheek. "You have no idea how happy that makes me. You really got me worried."

"Thank you for taking care of me" He smiles putting your face between his hands.

"You don't need to thank me for that. I enjoy doing it."

"I know, but that's my job - to take care of you and me."

"You know how they say, 'in sickness and in health'." You both laugh considering you're not even engaged yet, let alone married even though people around you keep asking you about it all the time.

"Do I hear the wedding bells?" Lando asks.

"I don't know, do you?"

"I think I do." He smirks biting his lip before pressing his lips against yours knowing it's only a matter of time before he proposes to you.

Although he felt better physically, he still hadn't mentally recovered from the 'defeat', even though he didn't want to admit it. But it gave him away when you looked for him on his side of the bed in your sleep and couldn't find him.

You squinted at your phone to see what time it was and when it showed 2 a.m. you found it strange that he wasn't there because he usually sleeps all night.

You headed straight for the living room where you found him on the couch in front of the TV. He was lying down in his boxers, watching TV, but his gaze was thoughtful and you knew something was bothering him.

"Lan?"

"Baby, what are you doing awake?" He asks extending his arm for you to lie down next to him.

"I have the same question for you." You say taking a place next to him and leaning your head against his chest.

"Couldn't sleep, I was tossing and turning the whole time. I got up so I wouldn't wake you up."

"And why couldn't you sleep?" You ask, but he stays silent. "Baby, what's bothering you? Talk to me, please."

"You already know what it is" He sighs tracing his fingers over your shoulder. "But I don't wanna talk about it anymore. I really don't, I just need to get through it."

"Is there anything I can do about it?"

"You're here with me. That's all I need." He says placing a kiss to your forehead.

But you were determined to do something, anything, to make him feel at least a little better. And what's better than satisfying him to relieve him of frustration and tension.

Besides, it's been over two weeks since the last time you fucked. You'd be lying if you said you didn't need him in the same way and you thought tonight was the perfect opportunity for both of you so you straddled him and started kissing him gently.

He gave in to the kiss, not yet realizing what you were up to. It was only when you slowly started grinding your hips against him that he smiled into the kiss.

"What's on your mind, baby?" He asked gripping your hips.

"Just wanna make you feel better" You said moving your lips to his neck. He moaned throwing his head back and you felt him starting to get hard underneath you.

You soon positioned yourself between his legs and pulled his boxers down. He quickly got rid of them, throwing them aside, and you began to kiss him around his length.

"Wanna please you" You said between kisses.

He took his cock in his hand and tapped it against your lips. You stuck out your tongue and licked his tip making him groan in response. You teased him by slowly licking him up and down and he was starting to get impatient.

"Baby, please" He whispered stroking himself against your lips.

"Please, what, Lan?" You asked innocently, stopping his hand and cupping his balls.

"Put it in your mouth"

His breath catches as your lips finally wrap around his cock. He collects your hair into a ponytail and tilts his head to get a better look at you taking him all the way in.

You keep taking him deeper and deeper until his tip hit the back of your throat and you gag around him.

"Oh fuck.." He moans while his fingers keep raking and twirling in your hair. Your hand soon replaces your mouth as you spit on his tip and stroke him up and down. You don't want him to cum this way, you want him to cum inside you and you know he's close so you straddle him again guiding his cock to your entrance.

"Fuck, baby, fuck" His hands are pulling your night dress up to reveal your ass and grab it. He lets out a low groan as you slowly sink down on him. Leaning back, he shifts his hips up to adjust how he's sitting.

"You feel so good, so big inside of me" You whine as your rock your hips back and forth.

"Yeah?" His eyes are stuck on you as he grips your hips tighter and presses his lips against your neck.

"Stretching me out so good, Lan, shit" You make special effort to compliment him tonight as you keep on riding him quickening your pace.

He grips your ass tighter pulling you down harder on him. His breath is ragged in your ear and it makes you take him deeper and harder needing him to lose control. And you know what's coming next when you feel him twitch inside you.

"I'm cumming" He chokes out triggering your own orgasm. You clench around him as he fills you up biting his teeth into your skin.

He hugged you tightly, kissing your forehead while you lay leaning against his chest, barely catching your breath from the sweet release you both needed so desperately.

"I love you" He whispers. "I love you more than anything"

[mariasont]

Office Sleepover 3 - A.H

a/n: yeehaw this took me way longer than i thought but here she be

i feel like im so ass at writing smut so just bear with me yall

masterlist

‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

part one here! part two here!

pairings: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

summary: in which reader gets put on a hit-list and has to stay in the office (kind of based off when penelope got put on a hit-list by the dirty dozen)

warnings: 18+ MDNI, hungover reader, unwanted attention from some rando, awk as fuck reader, fingering, dirty talk, doing the dirty in the office, definitely illegal, definitely probably caught on cameras

wc: 4.2k

Everything hurt--your stomach churned, your head throbbed, and your eyes burned. You squeezed them shut, feeling your body tense against the stiff fabric of the pull-out couch. Fists curled tightly, you gradually let your eyelids part, casting a slow, sweeping glance around the room, trying to piece together what the hell happened.

Pain hammered around the inside of your head. You desperately needed a hefty dose of Advil--ten at least. As though your mind had materialized them, you rolled over to discover a bottle and a glass of water on the nightstand. You assumed you had JJ to thank, though the certainty of that was as fuzzy as your thoughts. Each effort to reconstruct last night's events was a stab to your already excruciating migraine.

You had all your clothes on, that was a plus considering your notorious history with wine and stripping. Stripping. Your hand slapped over your mouth, a floodgate of recollections bursting through--calling Hotch in a wine-induced haze, flashing your tits, asking him to stay.

You were in full-blown panic mode, the sudden urge to throw up clawing at your throat. The bed was empty, save for yourself, but you vividly remember Hotch laying down with you. This only left two possibilities: he left after you fell asleep or it had been a figment of your imagination. You were desperately hoping it was the latter.

But clearly, the universe had its own plan, because there he was, leaning against the door frame, a steaming cup of coffee in one hand and a paper bag that, by the smell of it, contained greasy food.

With a throat like sandpaper and sweaty palms, you met your boss's gaze. "Hotch," you croaked, pausing to swallow. "Um, good morning--or is it? My sleep schedule's always off after drinking. It feels bright in here, right? It's also kinda hot, is the AC working?"

You impulsively rose from the bed, a decision you instantly regretted as the room seemed to spin around you in protest.

"Sit down," he commanded, a firmness in his voice that brooked no opposition, and you promptly sat your ass back down, watching him with an expectant look.

You attempted to read his face, but it was a blank slate, making you that much more nervous. He must hate you, you figured, because you certainly hated yourself. Your boss had seen your nipples. A wave of heat washed over you, and you clenched your eyes shut, as if that could make this situation disappear.

"Here," he said, handing you the coffee and the bag, then gesturing to the Advil on the counter. "Take that, and I know you might not feel like eating, but it's necessary. The food and coffee will stabilize your blood sugar levels."

"Right, yeah, course," you nod, accepting the items with shaky hands, holding the cup with a grip that's a little too firm. "Listen, sir, I'm really sorry about last night. I promise I don't usually drink that much. I don't even know how I got that drunk, and I know I acted completely inappropriate towards you. If you need to file a complaint, I understand. Again, I'm just so sorry..."

You wanted to cry, but you held it back, knowing it would only make this whole situation worse. You deliberately avoided his eyes, focusing on anything but him while you absentmindedly toyed with the breakfast sandwich in your hands.

After a moment, he releases a soft sigh, the mattress sinking slightly as he settled beside you, his knee gently knocking yours.

"I'm aware this week's been tough on you. It's, uh, clear you weren't thinking straight, and I'm not about to make a formal issue out of a slip-up."

Your head dipped, as you tried to fend off the rising warmth in your face. "I don't think I can ever look you in the eyes again."

"That feels dramatic," he pointed out, a chuckle in his voice that made you glance his way. "Trust me, it's already forgotten."

That was a lie. He may have lacked Reid's eidetic abilities, but there was no possible, imaginative way that he would forget the image of you topless--it was imprinted in his memory. In fact, it had become the sole focus of his thoughts ever since. He silently thanked the gods that it was a Saturday, and he didn't have any pressing work issues.

"Somehow, that's not very comforting," you replied, a suppressed giggle breaking through as you met his gaze. "So, did you, um, end up staying over?"

Your cheeks glowed with a soft pink, hands unconsciously smoothing over your thighs--a nervous habit of yours he had quickly taken notice of. It emerged involuntarily when you faced tough cases, or when your computer took too long to start up, or even when the elevator made an unexpected noise.

"I did," he admitted, "You shouldn't have been alone."

Your whole body felt like it was on fire, and you were weirdly frustrated that you couldn't recall being the same bed as him, being able to feel his body against yours. You bet he was warm, and soft, and large against you.

"Thank you."

His phone went off. "Hotchner."

Your eyes followed his movements, noting the firm nods, watching as he stood, his expression hardening, jaw tightening, and hand coming to rest on his chin as he faced away from you.

The phone call was brief, and he quickly turned his attention back to you. "We've got a case."

And it was quite the case--three male victims, all in their forties. Each crime scene was close to Quantico, about twenty minutes, sparing the team any extensive travel. Though, after last night, you don't think you would have minded if they had been halfway across the country.

You were really banking on Hotch's ability to keep things professional, knowing full well that if Morgan caught wind of this, you'd be better off dead.

The team was huddled around the briefing table, absorbing Garcia's detailed rundown of the killings--they were violent to say the least--with heads bashed in and over twenty stab wounds per victim. Whoever was doing this was angry.

Hotch eventually split everyone up into tasks—Spencer and Morgan to the crime scenes, JJ and Emily interviewing the families, and Rossi was tasked with convening with the local police force. So, you know who that left at the office? You, Hotch, and Penelope. What a great group.

You avoided both of them, a pattern that had become all too familiar you had realized. Hunched over your desk, you were engrossed in sending Spencer images of your latest research on the town. True to form, he responded--Can you just fax that over to the police station?--because god forbid, he has to read it from his phone.

So, there you were, barely resisting the urge to slam your head into the fax machine. You wouldn't consider yourself technology impaired, but to say you were on friendly terms would be overstating it.

"Need help?"

"Oh, yes, please—," you began, but your voice trailed off as you noticed one of the guys from forensics hovering just a tad too close for comfort.

"They're always a bit stubborn," he noted, barely giving you space to breathe before his shoulder nudged against yours as he fiddled with the device, "just a slight...there we go."

The machine sprang into action, prompting you to step back and acknowledge his help with a nod. "Oh, thanks."

"Not a problem," he assured, stepping closer in the process, his fingers lightly brushing your thigh as he pointed out the correct button. "You see, it's all about timing," he added, his voice low and unnecessarily close, "these things can be so fussy, right?"

A subtle nod was your only response, hoping he'd take the hint that you weren't in the mood for small talk. The hangover clung stubbornly, and the whiff of his breath was a cruel taunt against the fragile peace you were maintaining over your stomach.

"So, do you find this kind of tech stuff challenging?" he asked, a little too casually. The question hung awkwardly in the air. You sought to put some distance between you, yet he matched your every move, keeping the space closed. "I mean, I'm pretty good with my hands, not just with machines honestly."

Ew.

You mustered a smile, though you were sure it was more of a grimace. The room felt smaller, the walls inching closer. "I usually manage," you responded, the strain evident in your voice.

He leaned closer, if that was possible, it was like the concept of personal space was foreign to him. "Maybe I can show you a few tricks, help you manage a little better?"

His words were light, but his proximity was anything but, almost suffocating.

Just as you were firmly about to tell him to shove it, a sharp voice beat you to it--probably for the best.

"That won't be necessary."

The forensics guy, whose name you still hadn't gotten, straightened, his smile faltering under the weight of Hotch's piercing, don't fuck with me, stare. A look usually saved for unsubs and incompetent officers, but now it singled out this man.

The same look remained on the poor guy as he directed his words to you, "why don't you join me? We need to go over some case details."

It really wasn't a question.

The man backed up instantly, mumbling something under his breath about just trying to help, but Hotch's glare followed him until he was well out of earshot.

Surprisingly, a similar sharpness was aimed at you as soon as he opened his mouth. "I'd appreciate it if you chose to flirt on your own time, not the Bureau's."

His words landed with the sting of an unexpected slap. You blinked, taken aback. "What? I wasn't--,"

But he didn't allow you time to finish. Instead, he pushed a water bottle in your hands, his eyes scrutinizing your face with such an intensity that you wished the floor would swallow you whole. "Drink. You look pale."

"Gee, thanks," you grumbled, under your breath, more to yourself than him, as he wheeled around and headed briskly for the briefing room.

Your steps lagged slightly behind him, your forehead lined with a thoughtful frown. What was that about? The way he acted--the tightness that had formed around his mouth and the harshness in his words, it was so unlike him, well, at least for it to be directed at you.

The rest of the day unfolded just as you thought it would upon waking--like shit. Hotch kept his distance, his exchanges with you brief and to the point. Every time you tried to grab his attention, hoping to clarify things (why you felt the need you weren't sure), he was already looking else, focused on literally anything but you.

It was painfully evident that he was avoiding any personal conversation with you, a realization that bit deeper than anticipated.

The office slowly emptied, the case binding you and Hotch to the briefing room, the only sounds being the faint gentle tapping of your pen and the occasional snap of your hair tie.

It was late when you finally spoke. "Hotch, this says the victim had fibers under his nails that don't match anything from the suspect's home."

Hotch's gaze snapped up to yours. "Are you saying you think the forensics team missed that?"

You met his eyes squarely, cocking your head to the side at the tone of his voice. "I'm not saying anything. I'm just pointing something out."

He bridged the space between you, his jaw set in a firm line. You could feel the warmth spreading across your cheeks as the distance dwindled.

"I'm just saying I don't want you jumping to conclusions based on underdeveloped theories."

You met his eyes with a glare, your teeth grinding together in the process. "Underdeveloped? Is that how you see my contributions now?"

The space between you had now vanished, your heart racing, finger almost poking into his chest as you spoke.

Hotch settled back against the wall, arms folded across his chest, giving you a pointed look. "I didn't say that," he replied, his voice level, markedly different from your agitated one. "We just can't afford to investigate every insignificant detail."

"Every insignificant detail?" you scoffed, "these are leads, Hotch."

His shoulders lift in an indifferent shrug that made you want to wrap your hands around his throat, and not in the good way. "Maybe. However, we need to be sure before we pursue it."

Drawing in a controlled breath, you fought to stay calm, but he was making it very hard. The sensation was all too reminiscent of college, contending with the overconfident frat boys just to voice your thoughts. That comparison may have been a tad extreme--Hotch was far from being like those insufferable boys, but he was certainly pushing your limits right now.

"I am sure. Why aren't you listening."

"I am listening," he said, but his voice was distant. "I just... I just don't want to get sidetracked, that's all."

"Sidetracked? By what, exactly?"

"I'm just not sure you're all here right now."

You felt your cheeks warming with a tinge of shame, but you pushed back, fists clenched at your sides. "I'm here, Hotch. I'm focused."

"Because last night—,"

"Last night was a mistake, okay? I got it. I already apologized for that. But I'm not irresponsible, my focus is on this case."

A lengthy pause followed, his expression unreadable. "You're certain about that?"

"Yes, I'm certain," you snapped, moving towards him again. "And for the record, JJ said you were okay with us having a few drinks."

"I was," he admitted. "But I didn't think—,"

You didn't let him finish. "What, that I'd get wasted? That I'd do something stupid? I'm sorry I'm not perfect."

"Well, yeah."

"Screw you, Hotch."

You knew that was a mistake the minute his nostrils flared, his chest now a pressing force against yours.

Then, without warning, his lips crashed into yours. A muffled oomph of surprise left you, your hands hanging motionless at first, only to quickly melt, grasping at his jacket, pulling him into you.

It wasn't a gentle kiss, nor was it kind, but it was magic, exceeding anything you could have imagined, setting every fiber of you on fire. His lips pressed against yours with an intensity that drew out a breathy sigh, arousal tingling through you, and your passion rose to meet his, equally hungry, equally desperate.

Your fantasies had never done him justice--kissing him was intoxicating, and now you could feel yourself getting lost in the sensation, realizing it was everything you never dared to hope for.

Drawing back just enough, his hands drew you closer, pressing against the dip of your back, his breath fusing with yours in a dizzying blend, making the air seem scarce.

Against the soft pressure of his lips, you murmured, "I wasn't flirting."

There's a pause as his eyes locked on yours, searching, questioning. Then, his hand settled at the side of your neck. "You better not have been."

Any witty comeback you had dissipated as his lips crashed against yours again, more urgently this time, his hands tracing every contour of your clothed body with an insatiable curiosity.

His grip tightened around your waist, effortlessly lifting you onto the briefing table's cold surface with a resounding thud, his palms then cradling your thighs. Documents and files fluttered beneath you, hopefully they weren't too important. His eyes, dark pools of brown, were meticulously scanning your face.

"You," he breathes out, his voice a low rumble laced with something you couldn't quite place, "have consumed my thoughts since the moment I discovered you on my couch." He inches closer, his breath scorching your cheek as his fingers waltzed a pattern up your thighs. "Do you understand that feeling? The intense frustration?"

You were rendered motionless, frozen in place, scared to even twitch and risk this all being a very realistic wet dream. This was Hotch, your boss, the man defined by his lack of outward emotion. To think that you--of all people--could have an effect on him was an overwhelming concept. The room seemed to tilt on its axis as he gently guided your legs apart, positioning himself between them.

"Y-Yeah, I know," you uttered unevenly, your thoughts scattering as your hands tentatively reached for his collar.

"So, you know what it's like, huh?"

Your nod was subtle, a flustered smile briefly lighting up your expressions.

"And?" he prompts, while his fingers explore the shape of your thighs, squeezing gently.

You squirm under his gaze, the intensity of it making your heart race inside your chest.

"And... it's annoying," you confess, puffing out a breath, trying sound annoyed, but the delicate blush dusting your nose gave you away, you were sure.

"Annoying?" Hotch repeats, his hand tenderly angling your face upward, his smile laced with a taunt. "Is that all?"

You rolled your eyes, a reluctant smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. "It's distracting," your voice was softer now, desire pooling in your belly as you grasp just how compromising of a position you were in.

"Distracting," he tsked, echoing you once again as he nodded solemnly, pulling your hips into his. Your mouth parted in an 'o' of surprise, your gaze lifting to meet his. "Have I been the subject of your thoughts, then?"

Your head dipped in a nod, your fingers brushing against his firm chest, a soft blush coloring your cheeks. "Maybe a little, in a totally platonic boss-employee type of way."

"Oh yeah?"

You caught your lip between your teeth, considering your next words very carefully. "Well, maybe more than a little, and maybe more than just a boss."

"Oh, wow," his breath was a warm hover over your lips, hanging in the space between you. You ached for the tase of him again, rich with dark expresso and spiced cinnamon. It was a lovely combination. "Sounds serious."

You released a hushed giggle, a light note floating between you as your foreheads met. "It's not like I can help it."

"And why is that?"

"Because," you paused, wetting your lips in anticipation, "you're infuriatingly unforgettable, that's why."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"You would."

He was kissing you again. This time a little softer, unhurried, and the whole reason for your argument faded into nothingness. Although if insubordination led to this sweet consequence, it might just become a habit.

His lips traced a path down your throat, prompting your head to tilt back, baring the expanse of your skin to his exploration. Your legs wrapped around his waist, drawing him impossibly close. The world seemed distant, the sensation dreamlike, buoyed by the soft lull of a lust-induced haze.

Reason gave way to impulse; your hands lost in the softness of his hair, your back arching to his hands grasping at your ass, your clothed pussy grinding against his erection.

His hands hesitated, hovering as he reached for your top, his eyes holding yours. "Is this okay?"

You nodded, more eagerly than necessary, but that still wasn't good enough for him.

"I need a verbal yes or no."

Desperation clung to you, a needy sigh escaping you as you squirmed into his touch, his hands halting your restless movements. "Yes, please, Hotch."

"You were so eager to call me Aaron last night. Say it again."

"Aaron, please, I need you to touch me," your voice rang out, imbued with such sweetness making his length constrict against the fabric of his slacks.

His fingers deftly navigated to the hem of your shirt, sliding it over your head with a fluid motion. Your bra was next, its clasp yielding effortlessly to his touch, your tits releasing with a gentle bounce, and he fought back a groan as his large hands enveloped them.

"Every bit as perfect as I remembered," he said, his fingers skillfully pulling and twisting at the nubs as you brought you forehead to meet his, a breathy gasp tumbling from your lips at the contact.

You arched your back into his heads as he let out a soft chuckle, loving the way your body reacting to him. Your eyes held a glazed-over look, lips parted ever so slightly, and you looked up at him expectantly in way that could surely kill him.��

His hands moved slowly down your sides before brushing the sensitive skin under your waist band. You swallowed a gasp, moving your hips into his again, rolling yourself against his stiff erection.

His palms pressed against your hips. "Slow down. Let me take my time with you, yeah?"

You were at his discretion; he could ask you to jump into oncoming traffic right now and you'd probably say yes.

A nod was all you could manage as you fought the urge to move, every muscle tensed, waiting for him to make the first move, but god was it hard. You couldn't really believe this was happening, until the solid press of his thumb against your clit brought the moment into sharp focus. 

"Aaron, god," you gasped, your hands tangled in the hair at the nape of his neck. Your teeth found your bottom lip harshly, trying not to show him just how easily you could come apart right now.

"Is that good, honey?"

Honey. You could practically feel the arousal dripping your thighs as you nodded eagerly.

The pad of his thumb glided between your folds, gathering the slickness to continue his assault against your swollen clit. You buried your face deeper into his suit jacket, attempting to stifle the embarrassing sounds that you couldn't seem to contain. 

A whine of protest filled the space between you as his hand slipped away from your pants. His eyes bore into you as he gathered the strands at the back of your neck, guiding your gaze to yours. 

"None of that. Let me hear you gorgeous."

"Aaron, please, I need your fingers inside me, please."

You were painfully aware of how ridiculous you sounded, knew that if anyone else was in the office right now, you'd be so screwed, fired probably, but as his fingers dipped into your cunt those concerns dissolved quickly.

"Since you asked so nicely."

He was torturing you--his pace aggravatingly slow, working in and out of you as you tried to fight the overwhelming desire to slam your legs shut. It was so much, yet not enough. You ground yourself against his hands as his other hand clamped around your back, keeping you from falling back.

"That's it, baby, fuck yourself on my fingers."

His eyes were dark, pupils dilated, his chest rising and falling in a way that only seemed to spur you on, doing exactly as he ordered. His words felt foreign in your ears, before today you could never imagine him talking like this, so vulgarly. 

"Aaron, I-I need—," you paused, your eyes falling to his pants, more specifically the hardened cock inside them.

"Yeah? Is that what you want?"

"Yes, fuck, please," you gasped as his fingers hit that one spot just right. Your head lolled back as you clutched at his collar, his arm behind you keeping you in place.

"Watch your mouth," he said, and for some reason that was enough to send you right over that never ending ledge, your stomach coiling, heat spreading under your skin, every part of you ached.

"Oh—, Aaron, I-I'm—," you were a blubbering mess, rocking without mercy against his fingers, his thumb brushing against your nub in a way that made you feel like you had met your maker.

"That's it, baby, go ahead."

That was enough for you, your walls clenching around his fingers, back arching into him and you swore for a minute you could see stars. He helped you ride out your high.

You were wholeheartedly convinced; this was heaven. You had died and gone to heaven and the first one to greet you was Hotch, his hands tracing soothing patterns on your bare skin in an attempt to bring you back down to Earth. 

Just as you were about to reach for his pants, determined to feel him inside of you, his phone went off. Of fucking course. He shot you an apologetic look, the sound a wake-up call, pulling you both from the lust-fueled moment. 

He moved back with a couple steps, offering nods and muted words to whoever was calling at 12 am. You were suddenly extremely aware of your appearance--topless and on the briefing table for crying out loud. 

You attempted to stand, your legs betraying you with a wobble that had him instantly clasping your arm firmly, his attention flickering from the phone to the tremors in your stance. You gave him a small in return as if to say I'm fine.

You reached across the table, grabbing your shirt from its discarded state, not bothering with the bra as you dressed quickly. He cleared his throat, causing you to turn, just in time to see his phone disappear into his pocket.

"That was the Stafford police chief, there was another murder," he explained.

"Oh, right, okay, um..." you started, your brain racing into overdrive as you instinctively moved towards the door. "I just need to..."

Your movement was too quick, a dizzying spin that resulted in you tumbling into Hotch's solid frame. His reflexes were immediate, hands clasping onto you once again, preventing you from landing straight into him.

"Whoa, hey, are you okay?" he asked, brows knitting in a frown, "take a second."

"Yeah, um, yeah, I'm good," you managed to get out, even as heat suffused your face. "Just need to get changed, uh, can't imagine either of us want to the team to find me like this."

"Right."

He was still frowning, and you wanted nothing more than to kiss away the harsh lines of his forehead, but you were sure he wouldn't appreciate the gesture. 

You made a beeline for your office, the door's thud barely registering over pulsating rush in your ears. God, you were so screwed.

taglist: @chronicallybubbly @aremuslupinsimp @sky2nd @thisisdaisytrying @ryswritingrecord

[et6rnalsun]

DON’T, matt sturniolo

𝜗𝜚 pairing: matt sturn x fem! reader

warnings: unprotected & kinda rough sex (wrap it up rn), p in v, mentions of slighty toxic behavior in relationship, cheating (?)

A/N: dedicated to all the anons in my inbox asking for more matt fics 🎀 (requests are open. masterlist) ++ lmk if u guys want to be added to my inexistent taglist.

update: this has been in my drafts for 3 months

one moment you were resting your head on your boyfriend's chest, his fingers gently playing with your hair as you simply cuddled, and the next you were screaming the worst things at each other as you rushed to get your things scattered across the floor of his room.

he didn't have to say much more before sobs escaped your lips, tears falling down your eyes and ruining your mascara which only made your already messed up appearance worse. it was always like this between the two of you, no matter how good you had it since it didn't take much to ruin everything. to make chris put on his mask of carelessness and say the meanest things to you without even thinking about your feelings.

you didn't even know how to get home. you had to sleep there that night, and obviously you didn't want to stay in that house for a second longer. this made you cry more, your figure shaking with constant sobs as you thought of a quick solution.

eventually, the door to matt's room entered your field of vision, and a glimmer of hope lit up in your head.

you knocked gently on his door with your knuckles, and a murmur of agreement came almost immediately. when you opened the door, wiping the tears and the already dried mascara from your cheeks, matt was sitting on the bed as he looked at you with an expression mixed with confusion and sleep. his hair was disheveled, the sheets all wrinkled from tossing and turning around, and he wasn't wearing a shirt at all.

the sight made your heart skip a beat, and it was probably just the guilt eating you up entirely for waking him up in the middle of the night. "what happened?" his eyes filled with concern after seeing your conditions, and he quickly stood up as he approached you — his figure covering yours whole. one of his hands rested on your cheek, and somehow the warmth of his touch made you want to keep crying. inevitably you leaned into that caress, looking up into his eyes. "chris" the answer was enough to make him sigh, as if he already understood everything.

“i just need to put on a shirt, then i'll drive you home” he replied, his thumb leaving one last small touch on your face before turning and reaching for the piece of clothing. you leaned against the wall, watching him put it on. your eyes ran over his figure briefly, his v line highlighted as his arms came up. it was almost impossible for you to look away from the sight, and you instinctively bit your lower lip while your thighs were a bit more closed together. just a little.

you didn't know where all those feelings were coming from, considering that a few minutes before you were in total despair. but then, the sound of matt's car keys woke you from your daydream, and you cleared your throat as you placed a hand on the handle to exit.

"don't you want to change before going out?" he asked, patting your shoulder as he looked at the exposed skin of your body with his intense eyes. looking down, you noticed that you had completely forgotten how you were still wearing your pajamas; some shorts and a satin crop top. you shook your head, adjusting your messy hair as you both walked down the stairs. "i don't want to. nobody will see me anyway"

he let out a small, amused huff, pinching your hip playfully as you bent down to put on your shoes. "you'll catch a cold"

“can you just shut up and drive me home?” you feigned annoyance, but a small hint of a smile appeared on your lips as you returned the pinch with a small push. he chuckled, before taking off his jacket to place it on your shoulders. “come on, let’s go” he slid it off like it was a completely normal and natural gesture, opening the front door as he waited for you.

his scent completely invaded your nostrils, making you feel almost dizzy as you followed him without saying a word. his jacket was slightly big on you, bringing you the warmth you really needed but were too stubborn to admit.

the car ride was uneventful. your temple rested against the window as you watched the streets ‘move’ in front of you, completely quiet and empty. you could feel his gaze drifting over to you at times, staying there for a few seconds before returning his focus to driving.

“you didn't tell me what happened, anyway” his voice interrupted the comforting silence that had created between the two of you as soon as you stopped at a red light, making you turn your head slightly to look at him back. "the same things, matt. we can never find peace with constant fighting and he always seems to find ways to hurt me" you shrugged, your voice low and slightly scratchy from earlier crying. "he doesn't even think before he speaks, you know that better than me. but sometimes i really wish he would"

he took a few seconds before answering, as if he was thinking about it. "i always thought you deserved better. chris isn't ready for a serious relationship" his hand that was on the gear shift suddenly rested on your thigh, his ring-horned fingers stroking the exposed skin. he smirked a little before continuing, watching you shiver at his touch. "he's not mature enough"

you knew matt's words weren't meant to be mean to chris or anything like that, but there was an edge to his tone that confused you slightly. almost like he was hoping you would break up with his brother. "i can't blame him, maybe i’m the one pressuring him too much"

he scoffed at your words as the light turned green again, allowing you two to continue down the street towards your house. "i would really like you to understand that you are probably the best girlfriend anyone could ask for. i'm not the one experiencing it, but looking from the outside, i can tell"

you remained silent at those words, simply looking at him as he was focused on the road. you were beyond confused at that point, and you couldn't figure out what was right or wrong anymore. “if you say so” you decided to say, a small sigh escaping your lips.

soon, he had drove you home safely. you made him stop the car in the parking lot, knowing that you would remain in his company a little longer. "thank you so much, matt, really. you're a friend" your voice reached his ears softly, making him smile as he nodded. "you don't need to thank me" he reminded, placing a hand on your shoulder. “but i want to. it must have been tiring dealing with my sensitive ass all night” you giggled, making him roll his eyes affectionately. "a little. but the fact that you’re pretty has alleviated the suffering"

and then it all happened quickly. his slightly chapped lips had found your glossy ones in a desperate, resentful kiss, his fingers sliding into your hair and the back of your head to pull you closer. you found yourself responding to the kiss immediately, knowing that you weren't expecting anything else. his tongue made its way into your mouth quickly, his other hand trailing down the curve of your hip.

matt was desperate to have his hands on you and it showed in how he couldn't help but touch you everywhere, his touches were frantic as he brought you closer to him and tasted your mouth, what he could only watch for months, practically devouring it.

“get in the back” he practically pleaded, his breathing labored as he broke away from the kiss with a loud 'pop', while you moved quickly to settle into his backseat. his body was quick to tower over yours, his necklace dangling in your face as he pulled your shorts down quickly, before spreading your legs with his hands. he took in the sight of your delicate panties, so thin that it made his head spin. “fuck, you’re perfect” all while your hands already made its way under his shirt, before removing it completely.

he didn't waste any more time, and quickly unbuttoned his pants, groaning at the feeling of your legs already wrapped around his slutty waist.

panties torn with little importance, tip hastily aligned with your entrance before pounding into you without any preparation, making you moan his name out loud in pain mixed with immediate pleasure. "sorry, baby" he murmured, noticing your slight discomfort. he couldn't stop though, and at the feeling of your warm walls wrapped around him he lost his mind and started with a fast pace right away, barely giving you a chance to adjust.

your nails were already digging into his back, scratching, leaving obvious marks that showed how much you were enjoying it — you loved that rough side of him, you really did, and you didn't care if you most likely wouldn't be able to walk for a while. cause you wanted it first anyway.

the windows were fogged, and the sound of your sinful moans and grunts were the only thing occupying the inside of the car, replacing the silence that would have been there with sounds that would be perfect for damn porn good enough to jerk off to.

it was devastating the speed with which you were both close to your orgasm, but it was probably the fault of all that pent-up tension that had finally disappeared in a quick gesture.

matt didn't think about chris as he came inside you, and neither did you as you let him. at all. he didn't even cross your fucked up minds while your bodies, sweaty and exhausted, entwined inside each other in search of a heat capable of calming those similar voids inside you.

but you soon realized you were done when your phone started ringing, and taking it lazily from your dropped bag, you read the name of your current boyfriend. chris.

[talesfromawannabejournalist]

Leathery Love

@things-arent-what-they-seem66 here's part one, hope you enjoy

and @lilacwriter07 enjoy your early Christmas present

Lilith: I'm leaving you Lucifer

After twenty years of marriage never did Lucifer ever imagine those words ever being uttered from the love of his life's lips. Especially not on the day of their wedding anniversary.

Lucifer: What?

Was all he could say to Lilith who looked both tired and disappointed with him as she sat at the table with her arms crossed. They were supposed to be eating a meal together, drinking some wine, then watching a movie. They were at home at Lilith's insistence from a few days ago. She said she wanted to spend the evening with just him. No one else was to see what she wished to do.

He just thought she wanted to try something new. Not break his fucking heart in private so no one can see him cry.

Lilith: I said I'm leaving you Lucifer, I want a divorce.

Lucifer felt his heart start to pace as his breathing slowly turned erratic.

Lucifer: But, but, but I, I don't...why Lily

Lilith bristled at the nickname for a moment before answering.

Lilith: Because I no longer wish to be in a relationship where I fell out of love with you years ago. I swore that when Charlie moved out, I would finally bring myself to get out of a place that has only brought me misery.

With that she stood up and headed upstairs. Lucifer was still reeling when about five minutes later she was coming back down with two bags full of her stuff. Her stuff. Lucifer's eyes widened at the sight of them. It meant,

Lucifer: Lilith please, I beg of you don't go! Please! Lilith

He ran to her when she got to the doors. She stared him down as he stood in front of her exit; however, Lucifer could only stare up with tears starting to stream out onto his pale cheeks.

Lucifer: Lilith...please my darling I'm sorry for whatever I did wrong.

Lucifer then proceeded to do something he'd never thought he'd do in his lifetime due to the man's humungous pride and ego.

Beg

He fell on his knees, clasped his hands together, and begged for her to change her mind. Never did Lucifer ever felt so pathetic in his entire existence. He thought that it would get Lilith to at least think about doing something other than divorce. However, the thirty-eight-year-old singer had already made up her mind a long time ago.

Lilith: I'm sorry Lucifer, but I don't think you were ever meant to be mine.

With that she stepped aside, threw open the doors of their large, grand home and walked out. Never to step inside her former home again. All while Lucifer kneeled on the ground in total despair. It was only when he heard a car engine turning on did, he turn around and saw Lilith pull out of the driveway with her purple convertible and proceed to drive away did he close the door behind him to let out the anguish sob that had built up in his throat.

--

(Two months later)

Lucifer felt like his life was slowly falling apart. Ever since Lilith left, she had been sending him papers and been talking through her lawyer to him. Lilith had been one the most shining aspects of his life. In the entirety of their marriage, he devoted to making her happy. Including to working hard to provide for the both of them. So that way she could work on her music career. He bought her anything she wished for; heck he'd buy her the greatest diamond in all the world to make her happy.

In the end he guessed it just wasn't enough. When she sent him the final paperwork to sign off on their divorce completely shut the once proud, strong man down. Lucifer hadn't been out of the house in weeks and had mostly been taking to moping around the house. Or just laying all day in his bed, not sleeping, just staring up the ceiling, wall, or even occasionally the tv in his room that he put on for white noise. He didn't even go to the office.

Which would have been worse if Lucifer wasn't the boss of his toy company. Even if lately, he's been having his brother/partner Mammon and his assistant Moxxine take care of his work for him. Speaking of family, his brothers, sisters, and even daughter had seen how bad his depression had been and wanted to help him. Especially his daughter Charlie, who went to her Uncle Ozzie and begged for her to find a way to make him feel better. Since him and Ozzie have been the closest out of all seven siblings. Oz had an idea, but he didn't know if it would work

Lucifer: A sex dungeon?!

Lucifer sat across from his brother in his living room while in his robe. Oz noticed he also had deep, dark bags underneath his eyes. His hair looked a bit oily, and he appeared to be growing some hair around his muzzle. However, despite his shaggy appearance his body was rigid, his stark blue eyes wide awake as he took in what his brother just suggested.

Ozzie: Hun, please I know this might seem a lot and too soon after...

Lucifer: I don't care about ugh her. Look Oz even if I wasn't hung up over losing my wife, I don't think it would be right to go to fucking prostitutes!

Ozzie: But that's the thing though I really think these girls or boys can help you, Luci!

Lucifer: How!? How in the hell can they help me!?

Ozzie: By helping you get over Lilith. If you're with one those bad guys down, there soon Lilith will be nothing more than a distant memory. Plus, I distinctly remembering you telling me about this one domniatrix porno you kept watching. You kept telling me how you wish you could be Lilith's naughty boy. Well now you can do that! Just you know not with her.

Lucifer: I told you about that. Since when?

Ozzie: Since that time at that barbeque back in July where you got drunk and confessed to me.

Lucifer must've been hard hammered drunk to have told his brother about that. Since usually Lucifer was extremely private when it came to what happened in his bedroom. The blond man opened his mouth to once again reject his brother's offer but then stopped to think about it. It had been so long since he'd been in the warmth of someone's arms in the bed. Even before Lilith left, she had been distant from him for quite some time.

It actually was the reason for Lucifer looking up on those sites in the first place. He knew no love would be with the person he'd be with; he still wanted to forget about his heartbreak. Even if it was for only one night. Taking a breath, he looked straight at his expecting brother and said,

Lucifer: Alright, I'll go.

[mischievousmoony]

hello ! i saw that you were open for requests. could you do sick reader and james being the best bestfriend ever (and oblivious as hell) takes care of them? maybe they could be childhood friends so james doesn't realize that what he's doing in inherently romantic, like kissing reader's forehead to check their temp, giving his shoulder to them to lay on, sleeping in the same bed, and such.

AND even after reader is no longer sick, james still insist on spoon feeding them and acting like a helicopter mom.

- 🌱

what a lovely idea! thank you for the request <3 i love this because earlier this summer i had a nasty sinus infection for like 3 weeks :/ i wish i had a james potter then lol also i noticed you used they/them pronouns in ur req. im not sure if you wanted gn!reader, but i think it ended up being that way anyway. i didn't need to use pronouns, or even y/n, in this fic <3

𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚎

⟢ james potter x reader ⊹ 1.4k ⟢ warnings/tags: fluff, no use of y/n, no magic

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

It was only an hour ago that you told James over the phone not to worry about you.

Now, he stands in your bedroom, having let himself into your flat with the spare key that you that keep at his parents' house for emergencies— which he uses very often, but hardly for emergencies.

"James," you complain in a nasally voice, "I'm going to get you sick."

He plants his hands on his hips and looks at you scrutinizingly. It reminds you of Euphemia when she would scold you and James as children, and truthfully, when she sometimes scolds you these days.

"Nonsense, my immune system is built like a tank."

"James," you whine further.

He ignores you as he approaches your bedside, frowning as he takes in your sickly appearance. He gently brushes away the sweat-drenched hair from your forehead.

"My poor thing," he comments before bending down to press a lingering kiss to your forehead.

"You don't feel terribly warm, but you look flushed," James' wrist swivels to press the back of his hand to your cheek, "Do you feel hot?"

"A- a little," you croak, knowing full well that a raging blush is the real culprit behind your reddening face.

James' frown deepens as he dives into his next area of concern, "Have you been eating? You hardly had anything in your fridge."

"I have enough peanut butter and jelly to get me through an apocalypse. Why were you in my fridge?"

"I had to put away the groceries."

Your eyebrows draw together, "What groceries!?"

"I bought you groceries," he says nonchalantly.

"Why would you buy me groceries!?"

James is suddenly sheepish. He rubs the back of his neck, "It's not much. Mostly ingredients for the chicken soup I'm gonna make."

"Make? If you really must you could've just gotten a can of–"

"Eugh! I would never subject you to canned soup!"

You roll your eyes at his dramatics.

"That processed shit is just going to make you feel worse," he adds.

"Does Effie know she's created a monster?" you mumble to the ceiling.

James' chuckles, "Look, I'm already here, I've already bought the food. Just let me make you a nice soup and then I'll get out of here." James raises his hands in the air to indicate his surrender to compromise.

Your head hurts too much to continue an argument that you know you won't win, so you relent and wave him off to the kitchen.

Before James leaves you, "Are you comfortable? Do you need anything before I go?"

"I'm fine."

"You sound stuffy. Is there a lot of pressure? Do you like a hot or a cold compress?"

You wince as you imagine a cold compress, feeling like that would make your headache somehow feel sharper against your brain.

"Hot."

James smiles, happy that you're beginning to give into his care, and disappears from your sight.

He returns with a warm, damp cloth and a paper shopping bag stuffed under his arm. He starts unloading his haul onto your night table.

"I brought you the nice tissues, the ones with the lotion so that they don't irritate your nose. And are you taking medicine? I wasn't sure what your symptoms were or what you usually take so I got stuff for everything. I've got nasal sprays, decongestants, cough syrups— which I'm pretty sure you hate so I bought lozenges too."

You watch despairingly as he sets medicine after medicine down.

"I took paracetamol an hour ago," you inform him.

"That's it? You could at least use the nasal spray then. Here, let me–"

You place a hand over his that fiddles with the cap of the spray, "I've got it. Just go make your soup."

James looks up from the little white bottle, "Oh yeah, sure." But he hesitates before he goes, "You want a lozenge though?"

You yield to James' incessant efforts, figuring he would feel better if you let him do something for you. You hold out your hand to accept the lozenge but as soon as he sees you nod, he is already set on removing its waxy wrap and popping it in your mouth himself.

At last, he presses the warm, damp cloth gently over your closed eyes and retreats to your kitchen.

He reappears every so often to rewarm the cloth that's over your eyes, bring you cups of water or herbal tea, and make sure that you're still comfortable. He's offered to fluff your pillows five times.

The next time he enters your bedroom, he's finally carrying a bowl of steaming soup, one of your dishcloths a barrier between his hands and the hot porcelain.

You sit and hold out your hands to accept the bowl.

"Oh, it's far too hot for you to hold," James says, choosing to ignore the fact that he is doing just fine holding it himself.

He plants himself on the edge of your bed and starts blowing on a spoonful of the savory soup.

"You can't be serious," you mutter, sniffling.

"Just lean back and relax," James instructs, "let me take care of you."

James looks at you with the roundest, most doe-like eyes can can muster. Oh, those stupid big brown eyes— it's impossible to resist them.

You let James feed you what just might be the best soup you've ever tasted. Rich flavors dance on your tongue and you try not to let your eyes flutter closed in bliss, but the enjoyment is written across your face anyway. He refrains from teasing you, feeling too much pity for your being unwell to make any fun.

"Is this helping any?" James checks, blowing on another spoonful of broth.

You hum affirmatively, "It's really nice," you murmur, letting the warmth of the soup spread across your chest.

A prideful smile finds its way onto James' lips.

After he he scrapes the last bit of soup onto the spoon and brings it to your mouth, he places the empty bowl onto your night table. You realize that you still need to thank him and you share words of gratitude as you wring out your neck.

"You alright?"

"A bit stiff from being cooped up in bed," you roll out your shoulders.

"Well, you needed your rest," James says, studying you. "Here, scoot up."

You look at him curiously as he helps you scoot forward. When he starts settling in behind you, your eyes round.

"James!"

You've lost count of how many times you've uttered his name in scolding today. Your face flushes crimson and you count yourself lucky that he at least can't see it this time.

James shushes you, and your protests die in your throat when his hands apply a satisfying pressure to your neck.

He can't help but chuckle, nor can he help seek your approval, "Helping?"

"Uh-huh," you sigh, your eyes fluttering closed, and you feel James' body rumble with laughter against you.

The coming days play out similarly, and you've quickly ceased protesting against him. James attends to your every need and casually showers you in affection day after day.

He even insists on staying over some nights, which you do protest against, as he means to sleep on your couch which is not even long enough for him to lay flat. But you need not worry about that, because when night falls he ends up dozing off next to you in bed, where he intended to only stay until you fell asleep.

In the mornings, neither of you seem to mind waking up in each others arms.

Within a few days, your health improves, but this doesn't stop James from continuing to tend to you.

"I haven't run a fever in days!" you protest as James' lips still against your forehead for several seconds.

"You never know," James mumbles against your forehead before pulling away.

You huff as you meet his eyes on his retreat, "I'm not sick anymore, James."

"You still sniffle sometimes," he shrugs, turning to collect the empty bowl on your night table, which he fed you fresh stew out of for lunch this afternoon.

You chuckle at his antics, "It's just a lingering sniffle, it will probably clear up by tomorrow. Besides, I hardly need someone taking care of me for that."

James pulls his lips into a timid line, feeling quite sheepish. He hides his face as he turns to leave your room with the dirty dish.

He tsks as he formulates an excuse for himself, "Or it means that your illness is coming back for a second round. What kind of friend would I be if I don't make sure it's gone before I set you loose?"

James makes his way to the kitchen to wash your dishes, seemingly unaware that he might enjoy taking care of you a bit more than a friend would. Or maybe he’s simply embraced the comfort of being exactly where he wants to be.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

[jasmines-library]

Hello sugar <3! (im very sorry if theres any spelling errors, english isnt my first language <3)

I would love to request some angst/comfort with the batfam? Maybe with the reader (tw: sa, rape) struggling with some sexual assault/rape issues, something they haven't told the family yet? The reader acting different for weeks, months even, and the whole family being suspicious and noticing their sudden fear of being cornered, touches and certain smells maybe?

its totally fair if you don't feel like it, I just really really love your way of writing the characters, and your writing over all. I swear, i swallowed your whole page in the matter of a few hours, I loved every second!

Kristy, Are You Doing Okay?

Note: My gosh im so sorry this literally took me over a month to get to, but it's here. I'm so glad you like my page and thank you for requesting! (Title name from song)

Warnings: SA, r*pe (non explicit but this fic deals with the aftermath. Please read with caution.), Panic attack of sorts.

Word count: 2.1K

⛤ BATFAM MASTERLIST ⛤

Please remember, if you are ever struggling you are not alone. It may be difficult at first but there are many places for you to reach out to, many of which are anonymous and do not need the involement of of name, if you are just needing for someone to talk to. There will always be someone out there to help you. As an alternative, my DM’s are always open for a chat! Remember: You are loved and you are so much stronger than you realise.

⛤

You hadn’t meant to drift away. It sort of just…happened. And it wasn’t even something you were conscious of really. The thoughts were just constantly there and you couldn’t shake the feeling of his hands roaming all over his body; the ghostly touch of his fingers lingering flush against your skin, burning an invisible bruise into your flesh. You tried to shy away from it but it was always there, buried into the front of your mind festering away like an old, unforgotten wound oozing with pus and blood that would only create more problems the longer it was left. 

The night it happened was cold and bitter. A shallow fog had cast itself over the city as you staggered back to the manor with makeup running carelessly down your face. You shut yourself away, turning the lock on your door and burying yourself under the covers to try and  shy away from the situation. But it never left. It just kept growing, weeding its way back through the open cracks like a stubborn plant that refused to leave no matter how many times you doused it with poison. You didn’t sleep that night. And you didn’t leave your room the day after. In fact the only time anyone saw you that day was when you slunk downstairs in the middle of the night to try and revive the growling of your stomach without having to see anyone when you bumped into Tim who was finally dragging himself up to bed. The interaction was odd. At first he thought that you had just been busy all day and that was why no one had seen you: It wasn't uncommon for one of you to disappear into your room for a few days to catch up on school work or to finally get more than 4 hours of sleep. But something about you was off. You were quiet and lacking that charisma that usually shone from you. You were jumpy too, recoiling as soon as Tim rounded the corner unexpectedly. 

When you finally managed to bring yourself out of your room, you were still withdrawn. Instead of donning your normal seat next to Jason at the table, you sat at the end alone pushing your food aimlessly around the plate until someone had finished eating and you took that as a cue to leave. You didn’t mean to leave them in the dark. Really, you didn’t but the thoughts crept into your mind every time they got near. Every hand outstretched sent a shiver crawling down the nape of your neck as if someone was running an ice cold digit along your spine. The thoughts were worse. Intruding. Obnoxious. You felt so…dirty. And your mind seemed to like to make sure you remembered that. You couldn’t help but feel like somehow the whole situation was your fault, which of course it wasn’t, but you were stuck with being guilt ridden; trapped within your walls. 

Your skittishness didn’t go unnoticed. The boys tried many times to talk to you or to get you alone, but each time one of them hastily trailed after you as you slunk out of a room you would pick up your pace until they got the hint and stopped dejectedly in the halls. You had just skittered off into another part of the manor when Damian decided he had finally had enough. 

He pushed his way back into the library rather frustratedly, stomping his feet so hard against the floor that they continued to pound through the room even as he moved from the polished wood to the carpet amongst the centre of the room. His brothers were still lounging around the room, their legs slung carelessly over the arms of the chairs or folded beneath them as they engrossed themselves in their phones or an ever growing pile of books. They barely even acknowledged that Damian had even returned from his pursuit of use, besides lifting their gaze as he huffed his way back into the room. 

“Something is wrong with Y/N.” Damian declared, planting his feet into the carpet in the centre of the room and placing his hands on his hips. 

Dick felt as though he could laugh. Damian’s statement was so obvious that you may as well have had a huge, yellow sign above your head that screamed ‘i’m not okay.’ It didn't matter how much effort you put into trying to hide the bags that dropped across your skin, or the way that you couldn’t stand to be in the same room with any of them for too long without your skin crawling, they were prominent amongst your saddened features. “Yeah, No shit.”he said, looking up from his phone that he had been mindlessly scrolling on to distract himself from the feeling that gnawed at his gut.

The room fell into a pregnant silence before Damians angry scoff broke the silence. 

“That’s it? That’s all you’re going to say?” He spat. “You’re not worried?”

Jason pushed himself up onto his forearms and spoke out defensively. “Of course we’re worried… It’s just…”

“What?”

“She won’t let us help her, Dami.” Tim said. “We’ve tried, but each time she’s run.”

“Well then try harder!” He said. It was unusual for the youngest Wayne to react this way when it came to his siblings. But, then again it was unusual for you to shy away like this and although Damian would never admit it, he had a soft spot for you and seeing you hurting like this killed him a little inside. 

“Damian.” Dick reprimanded sternly. 

He sighed and swallowed thickly. “I’m sorry. I just can’t see them suffering like this anymore.”

There was a general agreement between the four of them. Tim chewed away at his bottom lip as he thought for a moment. “What do you propose we do?”

The whole room seemed to think together as one for a moment. 

“We corner them.” Damian said. It might have seemed cruel, but it was the only thing he could think of that would stop you from slipping away again. “If they keep running there’s no way we’re going to be able to help, so we just have to compromise.”

~

You knew that Jason was behind you. You could hear his careful footsteps, evenly spaced by his long strides as he tried to catch your attention. He was loitering outside of your room, trying to catch you as you left. It surprised you to see him as you peeled open the door. You had flashed him as much of a grin as you could muster up as he greeted you, trying to draw you into a one sided conversation that you were itching to get away from the moment it started. You tried to remind yourself that it was just Jason. That he wasn’t going to hurt you. But your mind still thought it was funny to play cruel tricks on you and soon you were making up a poor excuse and fleeing down the halls. 

You didn’t make it far though before you collided with a tall figure marching down the other end of the corridor, who braced his hands on your shoulders. Yelping at the unexpected contact you spun on your heel to turn back the way you came only for your breath to get stuck in your throat when you were met with the red of Jason’s shirt. When you backed up, you collided with the eldest vigilante again. Spinning around frantically, you searched for a way out. There was none. 

You were trapped. 

The thought consumed you quickly, dragging you down like a ton of bricks tied to your ankles until you were drowning in the thought of being imprisoned again. It was all you could think of. It screamed throughout your mind, pumped in your blood. It was nauseating. You could see the other two approaching and panic set into your already scrambled mind. You weaved, trying desperately to spot an exit but the two vigilantes were much bigger than you and their hefty frames took up most of the corridor. 

“No. No no no.” You rambled as your heart rate skyrocketed and your breathing came in sporadic, panicked gasps. 

Tim furrowed his brow. He didn’t think you would react like this. He reached out to grasp your forearms to ease your shaking body, but you nearly screamed, yanking your arms away from him and backing up against the wall. 

“Don’t touch me!” You stuttered, barely audible between your spiralling state. Fat, hot tears tracked along your face as you sunk to the ground to bury your face within your knees which you clutched to your chest. 

The four boys exchanged an anxious glance. 

“Y/N…”

“Please…” You gasped. “Stay away from me. I-I can’t anymore… no more. Please.”

“Y/N? What's wrong?” Dick queried. “Talk to us, please. We want to help.”

“No…” You whimpered. 

Damian squatted down beside you resting on the balls of his feet before reaching out slowly towards you, ignoring the warning glance that Jason sent his way, and placing it gently on your shoulder. 

Flinching, you squeezed your eyes shut. He could feel the way you trembled like a leaf under his touch but he didn’t let go.

“It’s just me Y/N. It’s Dami.”

You registered his words, but you still felt like you were back in that room. You allowed your body to relax just the smallest amount.

“It’s just us, kid. You’re okay.” Dick cooed. 

You sniffled. The four of them were crouched around you now.

“You can trust us.”

Your body tensed as you were hit with reminders of that night. The way he had led you away to commit his act of betrayal that would cut deeper than a thousand knives. 

“That’s what he said.” You hiccuped. 

“Who?” Tim asked tenderly. “Talk to us Y/N.”

You shook your head, biting down on your lip. You didn’t want to bring up the memory stuck in your mind. 

“Kid… we can’t help you if we don’t know what’s happening.”

“He- he… took me away from the crowds… He said to trust him- and I thought I could. B-but then he-” Your voice split into an unholy sob. 

“Oh..Y/N/N…” Dick said, suddenly understanding. 

“I can’t stop thinking about it. I can still feel him. Hear him. Just make it stop please!.” You begged, sobbing into your hands.”

“It’s okay. You’re safe.” He told you, reaching out gently to place a hand on your forearm, you tensed slightly but didn’t pull away. “We’re not going to let anyone hurt you. Ever.”

“We promise.”

You peeled your head away from your arms to reveal your bloodshot, teary eyes. From close up they could see how clearly the ordeal had taken a toll on you. Not just on your body but your mind too.

It took some convincing and a lot of gentle touches of reassurance to get you off of the floor, but the four of them managed to ease you back into your room. They refused to leave you alone after that. Insisting that at least one of them stay by your side at all times until you decided on your own terms that you were ready to take the next step in your recovery and stay the night alone. It was a slow process, but each small milestone made them extremely proud of you. They were there when you awoke suddenly in the middle of the night, crying and shaking, and they were there when you managed to move forwards too.  They were there to remind you that recovery isn’t linear, and that it was okay to move backwards. It’s all part of the process. The four of them showed you a different kind of gentleness that you had never seen before, and they tried their hardest to bring a smile to your face everyday. And it was their kindness that began to wash away those feelings. It was them who made you realise that you were loved, strong and would find your way back from the darkness and into the light.

[inlovewithquestionablecharacters]

Tommy x Joel x Reader: Sharing is Caring

Mature content ahead

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, threesome, sub and dom (kinda), nipple play, blowjob, dirty talk, use of pet names, sexual content, description of sexual relations, cum eating, Oral(Female and Male receiving), creampie, penetration (p in v ), unprotected sex, swearing, fingering, cum eating, ass fucking...

Word count: 4,8K

You’d tagged along with Joel a couple years ago. It was meant to be temporary but it turned out to be a long lasting partnership.  Ellie had been the last addition to the team. The glue that seemed to hold everything together. You’d grown used to the dinâmica. A little family of sorts. You knew about Joel’s past and he knew about yours. The outbreak had made you lose a lot of things but it had also given you Joel and you wouldn’t give him up for anything. It took a while for you two to realize your feelings for each other. The moment of realization had come a couple of months before Ellie had entered the equation. A bottle of whiskey and friendly banter had quickly turned into panicked groping and sloppy kisses. It took a week for the two of you to talk about what had happened. The talk consisted of sinful noises and whispered confessions that had led to your current agreement: no labels, just sex. And you were okay with that. 

The agreement didn’t last a month. 

Not entirely, anyway. You didn’t have a label so you kept up with that portion of the agreement but it wasn’t just sex. Sure, sex was a big part of it. But there was what happened before: the longing glances, worried words and hesitation. And there was what happened after: the cuddles, sweet whispers and sleeping in each other's arms. It wasn’t just sex it was something else but you didn’t really know what. Until you found Tommy.

Joel had been pleased to find his little brother alive which by consequence made you pleased. There was a small problem though. Tommy was an attractive man. Damn them Miller genetics. The longer the three of you stayed with Tommy the worse things got. You weren't trying to be greedy. You knew you were lucky to have Joel in your life and he satisfied you tremendously. Still, you couldn't help but let your thoughts drift to the younger Miller brother. To make matters worse Tommy seemed to always be around you. You'd often catch yourself glancing at him across the room, your eyes roaming his frame until they made their way to his face.  Tommy had caught you looking at him once. You'd turned away abruptly which had caused him to laugh.

"Starin's rude you know?"

You cursed yourself for being so obvious. You could tell Tommy was behind you from the clearness of his voice so you took a breath and turned to face him. He was a lot closer than you had expected, causing your knee to bump into his leg when you spun your chair around. The small amount of contact had sent a spark down your spine. 

"Who says I was staring Miller?'

You weren't fooling anybody. He'd caught you red handed but your pride told you to fake innocence. Tommy flashed you a smile. He had a pretty smile. Joel had a nice smile too but he didn't grace you with its presence as often as Tommy did. The younger Miller brother always seemed to be in a good mood while your partner was normally seen sulking in a corner. They contrasted with each other rather clearly and yet you found yourself desiring them both equally. Your eyes shifted from his eyes to his lips, leg bouncing lightly and hitting his thigh. He glanced down at your leg placing a hand on your thigh before leaning down to whisper in your ear.

"I don't mind. As long as I get to stare too."

He was so close you could feel his breath against your neck causing you to close your eyes. When you opened them again Tommy had already made his way to the door, his eyes catching yours as he went outside.

Later that day Joel returned from some mission. His body ached from walking so much and all he wanted was to see you. He'd made his way to the room you two shared only to find it empty. Joel placed his things on the floor, closing the door as he went back out to look for you. You were making your way back to your room when someone tugged you into an alley. You almost let out a scream for help but then you noticed who was in front of you. Your eyes widened with joy as you looked at Joel.

"You're here."

"Just got back. Went looking for you but you weren't home."

Home. You loved the fact that Joel called the small, dingy and dirty room you two shared home. He'd told you he didn't much like calling it a room, for some reason it sounded weird to him. Made it feel like he didn't belong. You'd told him to call it home instead and he liked the idea. 

"I was chatting with some people. How was the mission?"

"Tiring, but let's talk about it another time."

Joel's hands wrapped around your waist pulling you closer to him.

 "I missed you."

You smiled at him, hands going to play with his beard.

"Oh yeah? Prove it."

Joel gave you a wolfish grin before kissing you. You groan into the kiss allowing him to switch your position. Your back hit the makeshift wall behind you, the cold metal  making you shiver. Joel's lips trailed down your neck sucking on the skin near your ear.

"Joel uh someone could-uhm-see."”

"Shh baby girl, just enjoy."

Joel's hand trailed down your body toying at the button of your pants. You leaned your head back staring at the sky as Joel reached his hand into your pants. Joel grinned as you moaned at the feeling of him toying with your folds.

"Wet already?"

"I missed you too."

"Was only gone a couple of hours, baby."

"Well i'm needy."”

"Yeah you are, my pretty girl always desperate for my attention, hum?."

"Always-uh- always. Joel please…"

"Tell me what you want."

"Touch me. Fuck me with your fingers."

"Jesus christ."

Joel's fingers entered your pussy causing your head to snap up as you moaned. You leaned your head against Joel's shoulder widening your legs for him as he fucked you. You opened your eyes expecting not to see anything other than the wall in front of you. Instead you were surprised to find eyes.

Tommy's eyes.

Your mouth opened to whisper to Joel but Tommy was faster. You watched him raise his finger and place it against his lips signaling for you to stay quiet. The right thing would have been to tell Joel but your orgasm was clouding your judgment and the idea of Tommy watching his brother get you off flipped something in your brain. You kept eye contact observing the way Tommy's eyes traveled down your body slowly. Your lips parted in a muted moan as Joel sped up his movements. Tommy's hands went to his crotch readjusting his member in his jeans. You gripped onto Joel's shoulder biting into your lip as your eyes rolled to the back of your head.

"That's it honey. Let go.”

"Fuck Joel.”

You orgasm washed over you body sagging in Joel's grip due to the amount of pleasure. Joel worked you through it, his arms keeping you upright as you recovered. Once you caught your breath and recovered the feeling in your legs you opened your eyes expecting to see a familiar pair of eyes though the crack in the wall.This time instead of finding Tommy's eyes gazing at you you were greeted by the view of wood boards. You felt slightly disappointed. Joel seemed to notice your lost gaze turning to see what you were staring at. His eyes found the gap in the makeshift wall, a curse leaving his lips.

"Gotta tell someone to fix that."

His gaze came back to you, hands going to move a piece of hair out of your face.

"Guess you were right about someone being able to see us. To bad we didn't have an audience they would have gotten quite the show."”

Sweet innocent Joel, if only he knew.

A couple of days had passed since your little performance for Tommy. A part of you wanted to tell Joel the truth but another part liked sharing a secret with Tommy. The two of you would catch each other's gaze from time to time. The air around you heavy with unspoken desire. Neither of you spoke with each other about it though. It was almost as if by talking about what had happened you'd be confessing to the whole town.

You'd started to wonder if Tommy's silence meant he regretted doing it. You didn't and in your mind you'd let that be really clear but considering you hadn't said any of this aloud to Tommy it was understandably that he was reluctant. You'd started thinking he was just going to act like it had never happened until he said something that surprised you. You were cleaning a glass in the bar minding your business as you watched the men play pool. You haven't been paying much attention to their conversation until you heard Tommy's voice, head snapping up to look for him.

"That's my drink Matt."

"Shit Tommy my bad."”

"It's alright. Around here we share."

Tommys eyes found yours across the room, his tongue darting out to wet his lips before he grabbed his glass from one of the men and took a sip. Your lips involuntarily parted as you gazed at him. If it wasn't clear before it sure as hell was now. Tommy Miller wanted you just as much as you wanted him.

You went on with your day doing chores and helping people around town. To the outside world you seemed normal but inside your brain was working a mile and hour, the sound of Tommy's words playing on loop. Once you finished you made your way home, a small sigh leaving your lips as you closed the door.

"Hey honey."”

You froze at the sound of Joel's voice turning at your heels to look at him.  He was leaning against the doorframe, his expression serious. Well shit. Joel only used that look with you on two occasions: when he was mad at you or when he was feeling extra dominating. You had no clue which was the case so you decided to go for a neutral approach.

"Hey baby. Been home long?"”

"Not too long. Actually i was having a really interesting conversation.”

You took off your coat hanging it on the coat rack.

"Oh who with?"

"Ah just Tommy"

You back stiffened hands patting your coat lightly before turning to look at Joel again. He'd moved to sit down on the edge of the bed but his expression remained the same.

"Oh what did-"

"We need to talk."

"Okay."

Joel patted the spot next to him silently asking you to come to him. You did as he asked, eyes stuck to the floor as you moved.

"Tommys been telling me some interesting stories and as much as I love my brother he's always had a bit of an imagination." 

You took a shaky breath in, your eyes moving to look at Joel.

"So I want to hear it from you."

Joel grabbed your hand, his thumb caressing your palm lightly.

"I ain't gonna be mad. But I gotta know the truth. Okay honey?"

"O-okay."”

"You been flirting with Tommy?"

You nodded.

"Alright. That day, in the alley, when i fucked you with my fingers."

You cringed slightly at Joel's bluntness.

"Did you see Tommy watching and not tell me?"”

You closed your eyes and nodded again.

"Okay last one. And this is the most important one so tell the truth." 

You braced yourself for the question, biting your lip nervously.

"Do you get of on the idea of Tommy fucking you."

You started to nod again when you heard a voice from somewhere in the room.

"Need verbal confirmation darlin'."

Your eye snapped in the direction of the sound, eyes finding Tommy's frame in the dark. You look back at Joel expecting him to be angry but once you looked into his eyes you realized there was a hunger hidden in them.

"It's alright honey. Answer Tommy."”

You looked back at the younger Miller as he rose from his position and made his way closer to you. Gosh he looked good. His shirt was slightly unbuttoned and his hat made him look intimidating. You breathed in a smile gracing your lips.

"Yeah i get off on the idea of you fucking me." 

"Fucking hell."”

Tommy's hands moved to his crotch, adjusting himself in his jeans. You liked the effect you had on him. Your gaze returned to Joel whose eyes hadn't left your frame.

"I like the idea of you sharing me."

"Jesus honey."

Joel let out a chuckle at your confession. It was a desperate sort of laugh. The kind of laugh you'd let out when someone said something absurd and you agreed with them but didn't want to let them know that. The type of laugh you'd give when your friends told you your crush likes you back. A laugh of hope. Joel fucking Miller was into the idea of you getting turned on by the thought of him and his brother absolutely ruining you. You never felt more relief in your life. 

Before you'd even realized what you were doing you made your way to Tommy, your hands reaching to grab his hat from his head and placing it on your own.

"So what do you say cowboy you gonna rock my world or what?"

Tommy's gaze snapped over to his brother, his eyes asking for permission. Joel looked at you, watching the way your body buzzed with desire before turning his gaze back to Tommy and nodding. A grin spread over Tommy at Joel's approval. He leaned down, capturing your lips in a smearing kiss. Your hands weaved around his neck as you deepened the kiss. Tommy grabbed your head for better support causing his hat to fall off. His hands made their way into your hair tugging lightly as he kissed down your neck. You moaned as Tommy sucked at your skin making him smile against you.

"Love the noises you make darlin'."

"Ah Tommy…"

You throw your head back, giving Tommy better access and allowing you to look over at Joel. Your jaw slacked as you moaned. Joel remained seated but his legs were slightly spread allowing you to see his hard on. You reached down to grope Tommy's dick through his pants causing him to hiss against your neck, his teeth scraping against your throat. Joel unzipped his pants, his hands reaching into his underwear. You watched as Joel's cock sprung out of his underwear groaning at the sight.

“Like what you see honey?”

“Yeah Joel.”

“Show Tommy how good you make me feel.”

“What about you?”

“Don’t worry about me, focus on him.”

You glanced at Tommy, your confidence skyrocketing at the lust in his eyes.

“Wanna fuck my mouth baby?”

“Yes ma'am.”

You smiled at Tommy, your fingers moving to unbutton his shit.

“You gonna be a good boy for me?”

Tommy nodded eagerly. You weren’t used to being in a dominant position Joel usually played that role. You’d be lying if you didn’t understand why he enjoyed it so much.

Once Tommy's shirt was completely unbuttoned you stepped back.

“Take your pants off.”

Tommy did as you asked, reaching to remove his belt as you made your way over to Joel.

“Hey honey.”

“Hey baby.”

You leaned down to give Joel a passionate kiss. Your hand made its way to where Joel's dick was, giving him a couple strokes.

“Are you enjoying yourself?”

You hummed in confirmation hand moving in a steady pace.

“How about you?”

“I'm not used to not having you all to myself.”

You stopped stroking Joel, leaning back to look at his face.

“Are you sure you're okay with this? If it bothers you we can stop.”

Joel smiled at you. You were always putting others before you. It was something Joel had always admired about you.

“Don’t worry about me. If you're enjoying yourself then so am i. Even if it means sharing you with this fool.”

“Hey now.”

You laughed giving Joel one last stroke.

“I love you Joel.”

“Love you honey. Now get your butt over there.”

Joel gave your ass a slap as you made your way to Tommy. Your eyes traveled down to Tommy's unclothed dick. It was a bit thinner than Joels but about the same size so you knew you wouldn’t have a hard time giving him head. You placed your hands on Tommys shoulders, shoving his shirt off his body before placing a kiss to his chest. You licked a line down his body as you went to your knees. Tommy bundled your hair into a makeshift ponytail as you kissed his tip.

“Remember be a good boy and i'll reward you.”

“What type of- Jesus christ!”

You took Tommys dick into your mouth before he could finish speaking. His hips moved in their own accord, fucking your mouth in a steady rythm.

“Fuck darlin’.”

“Feels like heaven doesn't it Tommy?”

“You’re one lucky man Joel.”

You reached a hand into your pants rubbing your clit as you sucked Tommy off. You moaned at the stimulation making Tommy curse at the vibration. You relaxed your jaw as best as you could allowing Tommy to throat fuck you. Your eyes remain glued on his face as he moved, watching the pleasure in his features. His eyes were closed, brows furrowed in concentration. Tommy opened his eyes, glancing down to look at you. The sight of you almost choking on his cock caused him to groan as his pace quickened. He was close to cumming. You removed your hand from your underwear groping Tommy's balls as you gave him a hard suck.

“Ugh darlin-shit- i’m gonna cum.”

You removed your mouth from Tommy pulling your shirt off  before stroking him again. 

“Come on baby. Cum for me.”

“Ah fuck.”

Tommy's seed slipped out splattering against your bare chest as he came. You heard a groan from Joel's side of the room, eyes moving to look at him as you continued stoking Tommy through his orgasm. You watched Joel throw his head back as he came coating his hands with his juices. Tommy wrapped his hand around yours to stop you from moving it. You let go of his dick glancing up at him with a smile. He grinned down at you before kneeling down in front of you. His eyes went to your chest observing his cum run down the valley of your breasts. Tommy’s hands wrapped around your thigh tugging you into his lap before burying his face in your breasts. His tongue circled your nipple causing you to tug at his hair.

“Oh baby-ugh- so good for me.”

Tommys hips jerked up to meet your clothed cunt, the slight pleasure to your clit making you moan.

“Jesus Tommy give her a break.”

Tommy detached himself from your breasts at his brothers scolding.

“Sorry.”

You glared at Joel for making Tommy feel bad.

“It’s okay baby. I liked it. Joels just jealous cause’ he’s more of an ass man.”

Tommy turned to look at Joel

“Wait, you don’t give her breasts any love?”

You caressed Tommys hair as you waited for Joel to answer.

“She’s never asked.”

Tommy let out a scoff.

“Come on Joel. She shouldn’t have to.”

“How am i supposed to know what she likes if she doesn't tell me.”

Tommy wrapped his hands against your breasts squeezing them before playing with your nipples. You let out a moan grinding down onto Tommy.

“Because that's how she reacts.”

“Hum. Maybe you should listen to your brother more, baby.”

Joel noticed the bratty glimmer in your eyes. You were trying to toy with him on purpose. Fuck it it didn’t turn him on.

“I thought you said you wanted us to share you.”

“I do.”

“Then get your ass over here so I can get a taste of that pretty pussy of yours.”

Your thigh involuntary clenched at Joel's words making Tommy laugh.

“She liked that.”

You got off Tommy shimming out of your pants before making your way to Joel. Once you made it you leaned down to give him a kiss consequently giving Tommy a great view of your ass. He let out a low whistle as he made his way to the two of you. Joel tugged you onto his lap, his semi hard brushing against your cunt. 

“Hum Joel.”

“What is it honey?”

“Need your mouth.”

“Yeah?”

“Please.”

“Okay. Where do you want Tommy to be?”

You glanced at the younger Miller reaching a hand out to him. He took your hand helping you up from his brother's lap. You pointed to the headboard.

“SIt down over there.”

“Yes ma'am.”

Tommy gave your ass a squeeze before doing what you’d asked. Joel got up from the bed allowing you to crawl to Tommy who opened his arms to you. You laid against Tommy, your back against his chest. He wrapped his arms around you, his hands resting against your breasts. You bent your knees, spreading your legs for Joel who stood at the edge of the bed. Joel licked his lips at the sight of you spread out for him.

“Come on big boy. Meal time.”

Joel crawled on the bed making his way to you like some sort of predator. You desperately wanted to rub your thighs together to release some pressure but kept your legs spread. Joel took his sweet time getting to you. He used the excuse that his knees weren’t the same as before but you knew better. He was teasing you. Tommy seemed to notice your impatience so he started kissing your neck. Joel kissed his way up your leg starting at your ankle and stopping at the inside of your thigh. He sucked on the skin there making you squirm. Joel held onto your legs raising his head to look at Tommy.

“Keep her steady will you.”

Tommy nodded, his arms tightening around you. The moment Joel delved into your pussy your body became puddy in his hands. You molded yourself into Tommy his hard on proding you in the ass as Joel ate you out. You closed your eyes enjoying the feeling of Joel's lips against your folds and Tommy's hands fondling your breasts. Joel's nose bumped against your clit making you latch your hands onto his curls tugging on them as he licked your slit. Tommy nibbled your earlobe whispering sweet nothings. His voice was soft compared to the roughness in which Joel ate you out. The contrast demonstrated well the difference between the two men. You loved it. Your hips started bucking up into Joel's face as your orgasm started to grow closer. Joel listened to your moans become more intense, lifting his head to look at your blissed out face as he added two fingers at once. You launched forwards at the feeling nails digging into Tommy's forearm as you moaned.

“Please Joel i'm so close-ugh- please….”

“I know honey, I know. Tommy?”

“Yeah?”

“Give her clit some attention, will you? My arm is starting to cramp.”

Joel often cursed his joints for hurting during sex. At the start of your agreement it was something he was very insecure about. He’d told you about it one day and you’d said that if he ever needed a break you’d gladly ride his face. It wasn’t the response he’d imagined but it had made him a lot less self-conscious. He couldn’t help but smile at the memory, his mind snapping back to reality when you moaned Tommys name.

“I know darlin. Let it happen.”

“Ah Joel faster!”

Your pussy clenched around Joel's fingers as he quickened his movements and leaned down to lick your pussy. Your eyes glossed over as you came, your juices counting Joel's beard. Tommy caresed your hair as your orgasm hit you leaving kisses on your forehead. Joel worked you through it, stopping his movements once you started closing your thighs, the overstimulation hitting you.  

The three of you stayed quiet for a while. Tommy massaged your shoulders while you catched your breath. Joel laid down on your thigh, his hands caressing your legs fondly. 

“You okay darlin?”

You looked at Tommy giving him a peck on the lips and massaging his scalp with your nails.

“Never better. Joel?”

“Yeah honey?”

“How’s your knee?”

“It’ll stop throbbing in a second.”

“So you’ll be okay for another round?”

You could still feel Tommys dick prodding your ass and you knew that Joel would be hard already from eating you out. 

Were you being greedy? Maybe. 

Did you give a shit? No, not really.

“Round two?”

Tommy's voice sounded so hopeful it was like a little kid being told he could have as many sweets as he wanted. 

“Well you know what they say. Wear the hat, ride the cowboy.”

“Ah shit.”

Tommys hips bucked up at your words. Joel looked up at you.

“Where does that leave me?”

“You big boy get to fuck me in the ass.”

“So fucking good for us honey.”

“A proper angel.”

Joel got up from the bed moving to get the lube out of the corner you kept it in. Tommy let go of you allowing you to get up from the bed. You stretched your limbs for a moment as you waited for Joel to return. Once he was back and Tommy had settled into a comfortable position, you crawled back onto the bed. You straddled Tommy's hips slowly grinding against his dick before positioning it at your entrance. Tommy's hands found your hips guiding you onto him. Both of you moaned in unison at the feeling of each other.

“Ah Tommy.”

“Fuck darlin you’re so warm.”

“Ugh filling me up so good baby. So fucking good for me.”

Joel came up behind you, his hand resting against your back, forcing you to arch up for him. You let Joel move you as he wished to, his thumb circling your hole before going in to stretch you out. You clamped down on Tommy's dick at the feeling of Joel easing his finger into you. Joel placed some lube in his hand coating his dick in the liquid before guiding himself into you. You felt his dick against your ass spreading your legs slightly.

“Ready honey?”

“Uh Hum”

“Tommy?”

“Fucking stick it in already Joel!”

You laughed as Tommys impatience, the sound quickly transforming into moaning as Joel's dick entered you. You kissed Tommy as Joel started thrusting, the motion making Tommy's dick rub against your walls. 

“Faster baby faster!”

“Fuck thats it.”

Joel started pistoling into your the pain he’d been feeling in his knee suddenly disappearing as he fucked into you. Tommy watched your boobs bounce up and down as his brother moved behind you, his own hips jerking up into your pussy in desperation. Your nails dig into Tommy's chest as you ground against him, the feeling of his and Joel's dick filling you up making your jaw slack. 

“ I ain’t gonna last much longer.”

“Me neither.”

“I’m close to just-ugh Joel- I need um….”

“What-fuck- baby?”

“Boobs boobs please- ughh!”

Tommy fondled your breasts, his fingers moving against your nipples.

“Fuck Tommy.”

“Like that darlin’?”

“Yeah yeah i’m-i uhm-i’m gonna-”

“Me too baby me-ugh-me too.”

With one particular hard thrust has you cumming. Your orgasm caused you to clench around Tommy's dick which spiraled him into his own. Joel kept thrusting into you until his orgasm arrived making him fuck his seed into you. You fell limp against Tommy, his arms wrapping around your frame as the two of you catched your breath. Joel pulled out and laid down in the empty spot beside you two. After some time you got off of Tommy, both of you hissing as he pulled out. The younger Miller got up searching for something to clean up with. Joel tugged you into his chest placing a kiss on your temple as you hummed.

“Thank you.”

“You could have just asked honey. Didn’t need to keep it a secret.”

“I didn't wanna risk you thinking you can’t satisfy me. Because you do. I just…” 

“Wanted to try something new?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s alright baby i get it. And I'm glad it was Tommy. I’d be worried about some other guy but I trust Tommy.”

“So you don’t mind?”

“Considering everything we’ve been through, this ain’t nothing.”

You two stayed quiet for a moment just listening to Tommy walk around the room.

“I can’t believe I didn't know about the boob thing.”

You let out a laugh.

“Please don’t make it a big deal.”

“I won’t. Guess I could still learn a thing or two from the younglings.”

“You bet old man.”

You smiled at the voices of the Millers bickering around you, your eyes growing heavy as sleep took over you.

[pigeonwhumps]

Superhero's pet

WoW's birthday event: day 9: aftermath of rescue | sickness | "you're burning up"

Taglist: @painful-pooch @i-eat-worlds @a-funeral-romance @rainydaywhump

Caretaker's rescued Villain from Superhero from years in his 'care'. But that doesn't mean things are easy, especially when he's still her boss.

The blame for this goes entirely to @echo-goes-mmm.

1.9k

CWs: Villain whump, pet whump, severe self-dehumanisation, past dehumanisation, past animalisation, asking for punishment, past torture

Caretaker prepares for work quickly and silently nowadays. She needs the extra time, because she has someone else to look after now.

Villain. Superhero's former plaything. The test case in the new villain rehabilitation programme.

Or, as they call themself – pet.

They wanted to be called dog. They were called dog. But pet somehow seems like a slight improvement. They use that now, for themself.

They have the same routine every day Caretaker works, and it seems to help. She wakes them up once she's completely ready to leave. She'd gladly leave them asleep, but the one time she tried, they panicked and hurt themself. She hasn't tried since.

She shakes them gently awake. They're asleep on a human-sized pet bed in her room, snuggled under a large blanket until only the tip of their satin bonnet is visible.

They wouldn't take the bed in the spare room, insisting that "pets don't deserve beds," and she wasn't letting them sleep on the carpet. This was the compromise, when she realised even a room to themself was too much.

They wake and push themself immediately to their hands and knees, reaching out to kiss Caretaker's trainers. She takes a step back.

"Hey, buddy. You don't need to do that, remember?"

Villain trembles, forehead dropping to meet the hard carpet. "Your pet is sorry, Mistress. Please punish it."

"Not happening. Come on, get dressed and then it's time for breakfast."

Caretaker turns her back as quickly as possible as Villain starts stripping without a care who's there. She's not sure she wants to know what Superhero did to make them like this.

They won't take off their collar, insisting that it'll make them a "bad dog", but there's no bell any longer and she's working on the tag.

"Your pet is dressed, Mistress."

"Good pet." She hates the term, but they practically glow when she calls them it so maybe it's worth it? "Follow me."

Villain crawls behind Caretaker, settling into a knelt position when they reach the kitchen. She stifles a sigh. They've come on since she brought them home, but there's still a long way to go. The number one priority of which is to get them to eat like a person.

"What would you like to eat this morning, Villain? Crumpets or toast with jam?" They were their two favourites before they vanished, she knows. And they're edible with fingers, which... Caretaker doesn't ever want to watch them eat like an animal again.

"Whatever Mistress desires."

"Well I would desire you to make a decision. It's okay, I won't punish you for it."

Villain pales, visibly trembling again. "May this pet... may it have crumpets, please, Mistress? It understand if it requires a reminder of its position instead, but please show mercy on your pet for following your instructions." Then they cringe away, repeating under their breath in a monotone, "Good dogs don't ask for mercy. Good dogs take what they're given. Good dogs need regular reminders."

"Shh, buddy. It's okay, I'm not going to hurt you."

Villain's breath hitches. "Please remind this pet of its place, Mistress. It needs regular reminders, This pet is a bad, bad dog and it needs to learn its place."

Caretaker winces. Why does 'dog' sound so much worse than 'pet'?

"You're not a bad pet. You're very good already. Is that where your scars are from?"

"Some, Mistress. This pet requires maintenance."

Caretaker nods, glad she's already eaten. She sets the dog bowl in front of them. "Eat your breakfast."

Villain obediently lifts a crumpet (and god, at least they're using their hands now) and hunches over it, eating like they'll never be fed again.

For all Caretaker knows, that could be a plausible possibility in their mind. Did Superhero threaten that? Villain is still underfed.

She watches as they polish off their meal. As she has before, she wonders if she's using the right pronouns anymore. Sure, it/its are conditioned into Villain, but that doesn't mean she shouldn't use them. Does it?

"I'm going to work today, Villain. While I'm gone, I'd like you to clean the dishes and look after your goldfish. You can go out on the balcony if you like, but no further outside. I'm sorry, we can't risk it yet. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Mistress."

"Good pet."

Caretaker bends down and scratches behind their ear, which they lean into eagerly. "Stay safe."

Then she leaves, unable to think of anything else to say.

_

Superhero has asked to see her.

Superhero has asked to see her.

Caretaker would be nervous normally, because now she's finished her training he only ever calls her in when she's failed, but now... what if he's found out about Villain? As a technopath it was simplicity itself hacking into the system to investigate the rehabilitation centre, but what if she left some trace of herself behind? Online, at the centre itself, in her behaviour over the past few weeks... she could've done anything.

As she walks through the building, she passes many people, some of whom smile or call out greetings. She wonders just how many know what Superhero's been doing.

She hadn't. Villain had been missing for two years and god, she was so naïve. Believing Superhero's reassurances (when she dared to ask) that they were being well taken care of, and he'd visited himself, the conditions were completely up to scratch. They should be no worry of Caretaker's now. His terrible lies that make her blood boil.

She knocks on his office door and waits for a response before entering.

"You wanted to see me, sir?"

His eyes are ice cold behind his smile. "Yes. I wanted to ask how you're doing."

"Sir?"

"After Villain's escape. I notice your success rate is down recently."

"Oh." She twists her fingers behind her back. Of course she has, she's not arresting anyone else to be hauled off and tortured into Villain's state or worse. "I'm sorry, sir, I've just been worried about Villain." Not a lie. "I'll do better."

"Mm." He steeples his hands together under his chin, watching her steadily with the gaze of the agency's golden boy, and it's in moments like these that she's reminded of how brutal his training was. How unforgiving. "Any idea where he could be?"

Her mind flashes back to a morning during Villain's first week with her, when they'd licked spilt jam off the kitchen floor because "bad dogs don't waste food".

"No, sir."

"Pity. As their nemesis, I expect you to do better."

"I expect you to do better, Caretaker. We'll try again in an hour."

Caretaker shivers. At least she no longer has to be trained by Superhero.

Why did she ever like and trust him?

"Sorry, sir."

"Let me know if you find anything. Dismissed." He flicks a hand towards the door and she exits obediently. You don't argue with Superhero, even if you're not trying to keep a low profile.

Às soon as she's far enough away, she leans against a wall and closes her eyes, breathing hard. She is so, so glad she doesn't regularly carry a knife around with her. Stabbing Superhero 47 times in the chest might be a slight giveaway that she no longer likes him.

_

Caretaker returns home to the smell of chemicals and Villain kneeling on the freshly-cleaned carpet, behind an array of implements. Lighter, matches, fire poker, broom, knife, bleach, rope, salt...

"Villain, what..."

"You have been stressed, Mistress, and this pet is overdue its maintenance. This pet thought that this might help, as it did Master." Then they say somewhat proudly, "This pet used its initiative, as you requested. Has it pleased you, Mistress?"

The pieces finally click and Caretaker stumbles back, hand flying to her mouth, horrified. Villain thought... Caretaker would want to torture them because she was stressed? More than that, they fetched all these torture implements and brought them together in an effort to please her, knowing how they would be used?

"I... put those away, Villain, please. We won't be needing those tonight. And once you're finished go and wait in the living room. I think we need to talk again."

"Yes, Mistress." They pick up the first implement (a hammer) and crawl awkwardly towards the cupboard where the DIY stuff is kept. Caretaker thinks about reminding them they can walk, but they're shaking so much already. It probably wouldn't do any good.

She changes into something more comfortable before turning the kettle on, her own hands shaking. God. It feels like every day she discovers some new, despicable thing Superhero has done. Forget the knives – she could kill him with her bare hands.

She used to just be able to relax after work. Those were the days. But– she can't very well just leave Villain. They're her responsibility, and she's their only option.

Sighing, she carefully carries two cups of chamomile tea into the living room and sets them down on the coffee table. Villain is knelt in what must be the most uncomfortable corner of the room – difficult to find, as the place is tidier than she's ever seen it.

"Will you come and join me on the sofa, please, Villain? Or at least beside the sofa, if it makes you feel more comfortable."

She's sure they'll do that, they always do, and she arranges soft cushions on the hard carpet to make it more comfortable, since the rug doesn't reach far enough. At least she's always had far too many cushions.

She lives in hope that one day they'll feel comfortable enough to start using furniture again.

"So, first things first. Thank you for cleaning the house so thoroughly. It's never been so sparkling. You didn't have to, but I'm very grateful you did. And I'm proud of you for using your initiative, please keep doing so. However, stop bringing me torture implements. That's an order. I'm not going to punish you, Villain, and nobody deserves being hurt by any of that. Understand?"

"Yes, Mistress. This pet apologises for not letting you choose the method of punishment completely. It will do better in future."

"No, that's not what I–" She cuts off, pinching her brow. She's not going to get them to understand, at least not yet. "Thank you, buddy. Now, why don't we both relax? I'll find us something we'll both like."

"Yes, Mistress."

They settle for an episode of Great British Bake Off in the end. Not that Villain ever comments either way, but they did when they still fought each other and if Villain lied to her about their preferences then that's their own fault.

Villain rests their head on her lap and watches the screen sideways, eyes half-closed. Caretaker rubs small circles into their shoulders.

She feels so incredibly guilty for arresting them in the first place. She's responsible for this, albeit indirectly. The Villain she knew would never have forgiven her.

Speaking of which...

"Why are you never angry with me, Villain? I'm the reason you were tortured for two years."

Villain glances up from under their lashes for just a second.

"Good dogs don't bark."

[kedreeva]

I know you've raised several breeds of quail by now- which one has been your favorite? I'm looking into adding one or two quail tractors to my farm to help manage the insect population in the horse pastures as well as roaming them supervised in the barn for the same purpose. (With a hutch in the tack room for the winter and nighttime). I'm just not sure what species to choose! I have quite a few available around me, including button, bobwhite, coturnix, and celadon coturnix.

my "favorite" doesn't really apply to use; my favorite are the bobwhites, but keeping them was a nightmare. In the peafowl pens, the peafowl just ate their eggs. In an indoor pen, they hid their eggs and I was forever finding hidden stashes that were ??? age. In hutches, they seemed miserable and more aggressive. After a lot more reading on research done about it, wild-release captive-born birds pretty much never survive to reproduce, so it was wasted money and time (for the quail, I'm sure the predators in the area didn't mind, nor the outdoor cats).

But for what you want, bobwhites and buttons are not going to really be feasible. Bobwhites you can't really "roam" them even indoors, because you will have a hell of a time catching them if you can even find them- those little shits can squeeze into pinholes you would not BELIEVE if they are trying to hide after landing from a flush, and they're excellent at flying. I let the WHITE snowflake bobwhite I had into the peafowl pen and immediately lost her when she buried herself in a small patch of longer grass along the barn wall within 3 seconds (I did find her eventually but man she was HIDDEN). Buttons are even worse/smaller, and they're not even cold hardy, so you'd have to actually heat them in the winter, not just keep them in a room protected from draft. You'd kind of run into the same problem with other new world quail like valley/gambel's, or blue scale, or montezuma or whatever. They're all still naturally flighty, survival game birds.

The coturnix really aren't that much better, but at least they suck at flying and aren't as flighty to begin with, but you're still likely to be chasing them around the barn to get them back, rather than them returning to a hutch to sleep. The problem with them is they're fairly lazy, and they don't raise their own kids ever (it's just been bred out of them), so you WILL have to buy more or an incubator if you want to replace them, and they are Meat birds and don't tend to live as long as new world quail. But, of all the quail, that would probably be your best bet if your heart is set on quail. They're ravenous, they're meaty and lay eggs daily year round, and they're pretty tame for a game bird. If you like blue eggs, then you can go with the celadons, but they're a lot more work for selection (and I don't mean selection toward standard, I mean selection so their eggs don't go to shit and start breaking/getting malformed due to the ce gene messing with some health stuff if you're not careful about avoiding it- definitely do research before getting them) and more finicky on nutrition, so you may find they don't do as well ranged on pasture as the standard egg layers do.

HOWEVER. If you have the ability to do it, and you're specifically looking for insect population control, you could always go with some bantam chickens instead of quail. Unlike quail that were never bred for it, chickens DO have a "home base" instinct, which means they're unlikely to disappear into the wild, and there's no native wild chicken populations (assuming you aren't in the jungle where chickens originated, but I could be wrong) escapees could interbreed with (unlike with quail, who CAN hybridize with native quail and Cause Problems) if they happened to leave. They can be turned loose into pastures and get all over the place to eat bugs without you having to move a tractor (but can also be tractored if you prefer to place them). And there are some VERY small breeds out there - seramas, OEG, sebrights, d'uccles/booted bantams, d'anvers, etc - and there are some breeds that come in bantam and standard that are still pretty small (silkies, polish, cochins, etc). AND the smaller breeds can have small coops to be roosts overnight, so their housing similarly doesn't need to take up a ton of space.

Alternately alternately, you could have a look at guinea fowl. They're a "game bird" like quail, but they're able to free range like chickens, but they don't necessarily need or even want a coop; they prefer to roost in trees on most farms I've seen. But they're well known for a) readily declining insect populations where they are, particularly ticks and b) being a home alarm system because they WILL scream about anything weird they see, but they're more accurate about it than, say, peafowl, whose definition of "weird" includes things that are very normal. but they're not as small as quail or bantam chickens, and I don't know what the likelihood of absconding is, so you'd have to talk to someone that keeps them- I'm just mentioning them in case you've never heard of them and want to look into it.

So, yeah, Coturnix (any variety) if you're set on quail and you want to let them out of a cage in any capacity that involves returning them to your care, but I'd honestly advise looking into bantam chickens if you're looking for insect control specifically since they have better ranging ability. Or guinea fowl if you find they're your thing.

[webslingingslasher]

we need more nerdy peter 😕😕

ask and you shall receive!

peter was going to kill you, this time you weren't exaggerating, this time peter was really truly going to kill you.

maybe he wouldn't full on murder you, but for the first time in forever you'd see him in a fit of rage. he'd scream at you, that's for sure. or the thing that'd hurt the most, he'd be disappointed.

it was a total accident, an accident that just sent thousands down the drain. literally.

a brand new ring with a sparkly diamond, you cherished it, and the man who got down on one knee with it. you never had anything so nice and you promised yourself you'd take care of it.

that's why you took it off for your shower, you didn't want to tarnish it in the hard water. it was the most precious thing you've ever gotten, and you wanted to protect it. you had set it in the same spot by the sink, just like you had for the past week.

this morning didn't go to plan, the silver slipped and you watched it circle the drain, trapped in panic and shock you tried to grab it too late.

peter proposed to you five days ago, and you just lost your ring.

you cried for ten minutes, then had a moment to gather yourself and a game plan hatched. peter would kill you, but only if he found out. he'd be up any minute, you just had to grab a wrench and get it out yourself.

peter would never have to know.

you're still in a towel when you creep by his sleeping figure, delicately moving around his office for his toolbox. your eyes widened looking over the several sizes, you had no idea which one would work.

you took a shot in the dark and grabbed the biggest one, more is more, right?

holding your breath you take small steps as you pass peter again, holding the tool behind your back.

'baby?'

you spin, giving him the guiltest look of your life. 'morning, handsome.' peter rubs his eyes, 'whatcha doin?' you shake your head, 'nothing, nothing, about to take a shower.'

peter tilts his head while looking at your wet hair, 'again?' you panic, 'i forgot to wash out my conditioner, so... be right back.' your fiance smiles, 'want some company?'

'no! i mean- nah, you don't have to. it'll be quick, ya know?'

'i don't mind, i'll just stay in longer.' when he moves the blankets you fluster, 'no, really, give me like... five, ten, maybe twenty minutes and it's all yours.'

peter keeps smiling at you and you have to look away, the guilt is eating you up.

'sounds like you don't want me in the bathroom,' you shrug, you think you're about to break, you don't want to see the look on his face.

'does it have anything to do with that giant wrench behind your back?'

the jig is up, your shoulders slump in defeat. the silence is deafening, tears build in your eyes. you tried to hold it together but the crushing remorse made you drop the wrench, a muffled bang hit the rug.

you sob so hard you fall to your knees, peter's up and wrapped around you in a second, kissing your head and rocking you.

'it's okay! i don't know why we're sad, but it's okay!'

you choke between sobs, 'i'm the worst fiance ever.' peter snorts, 'and your answer was take me out with a wrench in the bedroom?'

he wouldn't be joking in a few seconds.

'i... i... i... lost the ring.' you heave for air, you feel him freeze for a moment, you're prepared for the blow up but it doesn't come.

peter's gentle kiss to your forehead made you feel worse, you'd rather him yell. 'where'd you lose it?'

you gasp for air, he holds you tighter. 'the drain.' he shouldn't making you feel better, but he is. he's calmed your sobs into harsh breaths.

peter wipes tears from your cheeks, 'which one?'

you sniff, 'sink.' your fiance holds you to his chest, he rests his chin on your head. 'want me to help get it out?'

you gasp and push him away, 'we can save it?'

peter nods, 'i'll show you how, if you want.' you nod and take his hands when he pulls you up, he grabs the wrench from the ground. 'i appreciate the initiative, but this is the wrong one, give me a second.'

peter meets you in the bathroom, you've cleared out the under cabinet to make room for your heads, he crouches and points to a small lever.

'alright, first thing we have to do is turn the water off, go ahead and flip that for me, baby.'

'this one?'

'you got it.'

peter pulls at a plastic piece, loosing it enough for a few small drops of water to leak. 'wanna grab me something?' you went for the closest thing, the trashcan. you stuff it where the water dropped.

'i loosened it for you, so now you can take that piece off.' you follow instruction, a bit of water drops with it, you take a peek, no ring.

'now...' peter grunts at the awkward angle, taking his wrench and untightening something. the next thing you see is a small opening, peter gives you a nod.

'you wanna do it or me?'

it's your ring but it's kind of gross, you don't want to stick your hands up that. peter can hear your thoughts, scooping his fingers around until he pulls out the missing diamond.

it still looks brand new, you send him to the floor with a hug. you squeal at the ring back where it belonged, on your left hand.

'oh my god, thank you, thank you, thank you.'

peter groans at your full weight, 'it's supposed to be, i do, i do, i do.'



[brittle-doughie]

2nd time I've sent this ask, sorry if I seem impatient!

Hello CCCC Anon back again! So I saw this post: https://www.tumblr.com/brittle-doughie/763338303932137472/would-the-beasts-be-pissed-off-if-one-of-them-hurt

So now I just got a little what if scenario that this is how Y/n splits into 3, considering one of the severe injuries listed on the ask being their head split open.

So Y/n's head is split open (they're suprisingly not dead), which causes brain damage and trauma to their mental health.

Y/n's left alone (sort of) after being healed by Mystic flour, then the next day their sides are there, the only difference is that Y/n is still there physically, so they're basically coexisting with their different sides.

Because their different sides are seperated from their consciousness and have brain damage *cough*burning spice*cough* they're just not mentally there at all, like their stare makes them look like they want to kill something but no their consciousness is gone.

Other than eating, drinking, sleeping and only being able to move a few steps before needing to rest they don't do anything at all other than to exist.

Their different sides take care of them most of the time due to the fact that if Y/n dies they die too, and they prefer living a longer life than have Y/n to just die, and they don't really trust the beasts to take care of Y/n at all.

The emotional side stays to the side of y/n with their hand holding either Y/n's hand or a piece of their clothing to make sure that they aren't going anywhere that could pose as a danger to them.

The instinctual side Keeps an eye on them and the emotional side and is responsible of moving Y/n to and from their bedroom to the kitchen to get them food and water.

Lastly the logical side is responsible with cooking and preparing meals and does daily check ups and analysis on their injury and health.

It takes a very long time but the sides finally get along and Y/n's health is atleast decent enough where they can speak, process their surroundings, and be able to walk longer distances.

They now just live with eachother in the house and Y/n now has a scar in the middle of their head from their injury.

How would the beasts react to this scenario happening?

I now bid you all farewell!

Sincerely- CCCC Anon

Burning Spice felt particularly responsible for this to occur with Y/N Cookie, so he’d do his best to ensure it didn’t get worse.

Mystic Flour felt like it was all on her to help Y/N Cookie with their predicament, not sure if the three personality thing is normal from these types of injuries or not

Eternal Sugar is just upset that this has occurred to the cookie they were meant to catch, not harm.

Shadow Milk would do his best to use what tricks he has to keep you and the buddies in your head entertained to help lighten the mood.

Silent Salt is plotting to kill Burning Spice for not following the assignment

[yasmimkilleruwu]

Can pleeeeeeeeeeaase do some EJ headcanons? It's fine if you don't

Here are some more headcanons about Eyeless Jack :))

Eyeless Jack has lived in the mansion for a while, but was expelled from the mansion after killing a proxy.

Jack hates almost everyone who lives in the mansion, the only exceptions are Sally, Ben Drowned, Seed Eater, Nina the Killer, Clockwork and Lulu, he basically only lived in his room, he had counted on anyone, the only real friendship he It was with Seed Eater.

Some of the Creepypastas tried to be Jack's "friends", but they didn't want to be really friends of Jack, as they just wanted Jack's protection since he was one of the strongest and frightening Creepypastas of the mansion.

Jack doesn't like very hot places, he remembers that in the ritual the temperature was very, very hot, he felt as if his skin was burning, so he prefers to stay in cold places.

In addition to Jack eating the organs, he also eats the meat of his victims, Jack no longer feels a kind of normal hunger, the hunger he feels is horribly colossal, it seems that even if the ritual has not worked, something was still inside from Jack, something really bad.

Jack spends all day sleeping and only goes out to eat or do anything else at night, after the ritual Jack started to feel very sleepy, so much so that it was difficult for him to stay awake.

It took a long time for Jack to get used to his "new" body, he had gotten bigger, stronger, he couldn't see, his nose was much more sensitive, he had a syrup and claws now, it seemed like his body was more cold resistant except his nose that was still sensitive to cold, very sensitive.

Jack had a lot of bad experiences for not having eyes and especially for not being able to see, things like snow, dust and rain drops ended up falling inside their orbits, and every time that happened a lot, so Jack began to be even more careful.

Over time Jack ended up unlearning to speak, he was slowly losing his humanity and sanity, a long time ago he didn't talk to someone, and his throat hurt when he was talking, the only thing Jack did now was grunt like a one animal type.

Jack began to forget things about his past, began to have nightmares and hallucinations, his mental health was getting worse every day, Seed Eater tried to help, but Jack needs the help of another human.

Jack stole an iPod from one of his victims, he always listens to music when he is stressed or going through a bad time, what it was always.

Jack now "worked" for Zalgo, because Jack was housing in a territory of Zalgo, so for him to keep living there, he would have to do some tasks for Zalgo.

After a while Jack met Toby, and the two tried to kill herself several times, many times Jack really didn't like Toby, especially for Toby being a proxy, Jack hated everything with Slenderman.

One day Zalgo decided to make a peace treaty with Slenderman for reasons no one knows, and designated Jack to be Toby's partner, Jack obviously hated that, because now he would have to spend all his time with Toby.

Jack and Toby beat each other a lot, they fought and ignored themselves most of the time, Jack stopped beating Toby after he realized that he would have to take care of Toby's injuries anyway, so he continues to retrieve and hurt Toby I would only give him more work.

Jack was almost asphyxiated by Toby as he was sleeping, they had had a fight again and Toby tried to kill him "accidentally".

After a while Jack started to get along with Toby, and he started to open more to Toby and started talking to him more, leading them to become closer and closer, it helped Jack to return to speak right.

Jack was upset with Toby for days, because on a day she was snowing, Toby touched a snowball in the face of Eyeless Jack, which made a lot of snow get into his orbits, Toby apologized a lot and did several things to Eyeless Jack to forgive him.

After Jack began to develop romantic feelings for Toby, he began to do almost everything Toby sent without even questioning, and Jack followed Toby anywhere as well.

Jack has many scars, some are from the ritual and the others are of self-mutilation, he stopped injuring himself a while later, but the scars are very visible.

Jack likes to touch Toby's body, he likes to feel his scars and skin, and he likes to mark him, he finds Toby's blood delicious.

Eyeless Jack has a butcher shop on his cabin, he doesn't like to put humans there, but when he gets out of control he puts them there.

If Jack loses control and if he spends a long time without eating, he turns into a total creature, just like his canonical version, he totally loses his human thoughts, he will attack anything near him.

My version of Jack is Mexican, he came from Mexico for the United States, he knows how to speak English very well.

He also doesn't like most creepypastas, he hates mainly people like Jeff, because Jeff makes Jack remember the people who hurt him and killed in the ritual.

[cinnamonest]

Also on note of that “bone breaking” post I believe Xiao is an absolute menace to the innkeepers because of his inability to gauge human sickness and injury. He's thoroughly convinced any slight discomfort you experience is a near-death situation.

Human life is incredibly fragile. Their bodies are nearly unbelievably susceptible to death from even very mild injuries and sicknesses, they die so easily it's frightening. Which is why he has to be very vigilant with you.

You once got a bit nauseous from eating something a bit past expiry date — you insist it's just food poisoning over and over, but he practically drags you to a pharmacist anyway “just in case,” because there are many deadly pathogens and parasites humans can die from that begin this way, and you will drop dead before you even know something is wrong.

If you have a headache, it's probably an oncoming aneurysm that will cause sudden death. You may think you have a mere common cold, but he is well aware that many very dangerous and severe illnesses begin as symptoms of common colds, some of which progress so rapidly you may not have time to notice before sudden death.

You try to explain your throat hurts because what you ate is giving you heartburn, but if it has the word heart, which is a very vital organ, that can only mean you are at great risk of, you guessed it, sudden death.

More than once now you've been sleeping a little too deeply — your breaths are so slow that it looks like you're barely breathing at all, so he has to shake you awake to ensure you are still alive. Any cough or sneeze is met with this head-jerk in your direction and yellow eyes wide open staring in panic, and you have to swear up and down you just got swallowed the wrong way or inhaled some dust.

Not even period pains are safe — it's normal, so you insist, you can't hide your discomfort so you're all but begging him not to worry about it, but this one time he remembers about seven hundred years ago he once heard a villager mention a woman who had internal bleeding mistaken for just that and died, so it must be seen professionally (yes, each month). The whole concept bothers him — you're bleeding and in pain, those things are bad, how can you be sure it's the normal amount of bleeding and pain and not too much, that you're not actually five minutes away from dropping dead? That's right, you can't know, which is why you have to let him carry you to the harbor for the third time this week.

Injury is even worse — yes, he's aware that human flesh bruises easily, but this bruise is on your ribcage, and you don't recall how it got there, there are organs underneath there and you could very well be internally bleeding out.

Both innkeepers are, at this point, used to him coming bounding into the main lobby in full-fledged panic, demanding to hand over the emergency medical kit kept by the front desk so he can save you from bleeding out (you accidentally cut your finger on a splinter on the baseboard), and they no longer bat an eye or ask where you're going when he comes barging through carrying you (protesting, at that) out the door without a word before vanishing in the direction of the nearest village with a doctor… even when you try to get their help to please tell him I'm fine, they just ignore you at this point, knowing it's futile.

There's a death at the inn once — you try to be reasonable and explain that it was a very elderly and sickly man who most certainly died of natural causes, but see, you don't know for sure that he didn't have some kind of rare rapid-onset deadly illness that can spread from the bottom floor all the way up to where your room is, so it is imperative that you be disinfected professionally.

He annoys the doctors too — they're all used to it at this point too, but many of them are aware of him, and none of the humans really want to oppose or risk upsetting one of these beings they have a degree of reverence for, so much to your dismay, all of them continue to treat his concerns as legitimate, even though it's very blatantly clear to you that they're faking taking it seriously.

On the bright side, having some pity on your suffering perhaps (or being tired of dealing with the same thing over and over), the harbor pharmacist managed to convince him that an over-the-counter mild painkiller was a miracle cure for a wide variety of ailments, so unless you feel that you need more, he says, then that should be enough… which cuts down on the frequency of your unnecessary emergency care visits, but only somewhat.

At this point, surely at least one of the concerns has been legitimate, he has definitely saved your life more than once by now. And yet, you have not thanked him for this, you continue to be so naive to your own fragility and do nothing but complain about it when you literally owe him your life. Unbelievable.

But rest assured, your ungratefulness will not deter him from continuing to take the utmost care of you, he'll continue to save you, regardless of how unappreciated these life-saving efforts are.

[chrisgotitall]

reader trying to convince mike to take a day off of work ‘cause he’s sick and then taking care of him?? 😉

Hope i delivered well!!!

She woke up early to make breakfast that morning and she was soon followed by Mike, who approached her by wrapping his arms around her and muffling a "Good morning" into her hair.

"Morning" she says smiling.

He helps her out with breakfast. Before sitting down he turns around to cough. After that he goes to take the coffee pot to put in on the table and another cough comes out, which he covers with his elbow. It's a heavy cough and you can tell it scratched his throat by the look on his face.

"Woah... are you okay?" she asks him. Before he can answer, he sneezes.

"Okay, eat something and then you're going back to bed, alright?" she tells him.

"What? No, no, no, I have to go to work" he says back.

"I don't think so if you're going to sneeze and cough around everybody, finish your breakfast and go to bed"

"Baby, I can't call in sick at work last minute..."he insists but another cough betrays him.

"Baby, you can't go to work like that. They'll survive one day without you"

That's her final say and she wins. After breakfast he goes back to bed. The coughs keep getting worse and then he says that his stomach starts to hurt too.

"You need to rest, okay? Relax, now..." she caresses his hair because that's something that helps him drift off to sleep.

By later in the morning, a little fever started to run up so she prepared a bowl with cold water and a cloth.

While he was asleep, she rubbed his forehead with the fresh cloth. And then his cheeks, tapping lightly on his face. She felt so close to him in that moment, so protective of him. It just felt so good being able to take care of him while he wasn't feeling well.

"It's nice..." he says with closed eyes.

"Yeah? They don't do this at work..." she responds.

"No, they don't... You shouldn't stay this close to me, you'll take a fever too" he says not avoiding her touch at all but adjusting his body next to hers.

"Well you slept in this bed anyway and you touched all the things I had breakfast with so I think I'm gonna take it anyway" she says.

"Mmh, makes sense" he takes her hand and kisses it.

He sits up to blow his nose, very loudly.

"Woah" she says, "That was not very pretty of you"

He hums back to her and puts the tissue on his side table. She notices his red nose and smiles at him.

"You're still very cute tho"

"I don't feel cute at all" he says with a very nasal voice.

"You are, I swear" she then gets up from the bed, "I'm gonna bring you some water, you have to drink a lot"

She goes downstairs to bring him some water and then sits on the bed to refresh the wet cloth and put it back on his forehead.

He looks at her lovingly. She looks back at him almost unable to hold that gaze for much longer, so she downs her gaze and smiles.

"I'm gonna run you a warm bath..."

"Ok..." he answers.

Before going to the bathroom she caresses his face.