#you are not rotting. staying in bed and doing nothing isn’t rotting

[fatfemmefreaquency]

unironically i’m so fucking sick of the term “bedrotting”

[pencil-n-pen]

Princess ⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚

⊹‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹

leon kennedy x fem!reader

Summary: Being an independent woman and a full time student is all fun and games until final’s season. Luckily, your not-quite academic rival Leon Kennedy is there to pick you up when you fall.

next

cw: Female pronouns and description used for reader but nothing detailed (no skin color, eye color, hair type, body type, etc.) This is basically just an x reader for my independent eldest daughters who do nothing but their absolute best all the time everyday and deep down want a hot guy with beefy arms to let them relax for a minute. So i guess expect the related issues that come with being an eldest daughter?

Tags/tropes: hurt/comfort, dom! leon if you squint, leon’s very touchy, leon being a gentleman!! probably ooc, i kinda struggled finding his voice :/

wc: 3.3k

a/n: wowee so i’m not rlly looking to be a full time author or anything but i could NOT get this idea out of my head and i figured i could give back to the tumblr fic community <3 here’s to everyone who wants hurt/comfort without smut, incest, or a needlessly specific reader! hope everyone’s recovering well from finals!

— ‎ ‧₊˚ 𓂃౨ৎ

The first time it happened, it honestly, truly, was an accident. A mistake, if you will. You would never willingly fall asleep on a random guy at a party. That is all kinds of bad for a number of reasons.

However. There were some… extenuating circumstances.

Finals. They’re a make-or-break for the first semester. Mostly just a break. In the sense that you contemplated how upset your parents would be at you if you dropped out and if the subsequent disowning would be worth it.

You did finals the same way you did everything. You worked. Studied. Borderline obsessed over it. Romanticized it so you could push through when the other’s resolve started dropping. Stayed home. Your friends bemoaned your “no-fun attitude” but they’re crying over their grades and you’re not, so.

Well. Actually you’re definitely crying over your grades, almost every day in fact. But not because they’re bad. Just because you’re tired. Really tired. The kind of tired that makes people have public breakdowns. But you can’t afford to have a public breakdown because you have to succeed at college and you have to work in order to stay on top of your bills and be able to send some money home to your family and make sure you have time to call your parents and make time for your sister to call you and vent because you didn’t have a you at her age and you wish you did so you have to be there for her and your friends need you to be there for them not to mention planning for how you’re going to use your degree after you graduate and—

Most of the time you try not to think about it.

So finals were over. And everyone wanted to celebrate. And you did, you promise. You’re totally the party girl type. Totally. (Maybe if you say it enough times it’ll come true?)

You don’t hate parties. You like dressing up and going out. It’s fun! It’s just… not your idea of an unwind. Not after you nearly ran yourself into the ground for a month straight for the sake of academic validation. You’d prefer to sleep for 72 hours straight. And maybe watch a movie at home in the sweatshirt you cried over your textbooks in. Maybe over a glass of wine? You’re not really sure. Relaxing never really goes well for you. It’s either depression-bed-rotting or full productivity.

Needless to say, you weren’t exactly thrilled to find yourself at this party. You’re not really sure how your friends convinced you.

But you’re here, in makeup and an outfit you like (you’re thankful this isn’t one of the ‘put on a tight dress and dance’ parties) and you just honestly want to go to bed. It’s a house party, so it’s not nearly as crazy as some of the other parties you’ve been (read: dragged) to, but still.

You’re on the couch, ignoring the smell of alcohol in the air and pretending the pounding baseline of the music coming from the speaker in the kitchen isn’t starting to give you a headache.

Ada Wong, a girl you’ve hesitantly dubbed your party friend, is sitting on your left, while the guy you can never quite tell what he is to her, is sitting on your right.

Leon Kennedy.

On a good day, Leon Kennedy is a smart, brooding, annoyingly capable guy who you share some of your classes with. On a bad day, he’s the bane of your existence. On a really bad day, you fantasize about all the ways you could kill him and turn the experience into a really good term paper.

It’s complicated. You’re smart. He’s smart. You tend to clash because neither of you like backing down from a challenge.

But right now, in this moment, at this party, the only thing you can think about is how fucking tired you are and how warm he is.

The music is so loud it drowns everything out in your brain. The few thoughts that make it through the overwhelm of sound are fuzzy and staticky. The cling and slip around in your head like syrup. The worst parts about parties are, funnily enough, working to cancel out the main reason you can’t fall asleep in your own bed at night: overthinking.

That and the fact that you haven’t sleep in forty-eight hours. An energy drink and an iced coffee count as a full nights sleep, right? You’re sure the heart palpitations are normal.

You manage to keep up with the steady flow of the group conversation, but as the night wears on, talking becomes harder and harder and just plain processing the words being said slowly turns into an impossible task. At some point, someone else squeezed onto the couch— you think it might be Chris? Ada did say he was coming late— so now you’re pressed against the one and only Leon Kennedy, and he’s radiating heat like a furnace.

Like you, he opted for a slightly more casual approach to the house party. Of course, he’s a guy, so his wardrobe was probably never that big, but still. It’s nice to see someone else in a sweatshirt and jeans.

You at least put on your favorite jeans! You call them your hot jeans, for self explanatory reasons. So what if you’re wearing an oversized sweatshirt? It’s cold!

You jolt in place, not realizing your eyes had slipped close and the conversation had continued on without you. Something prickles in the back of your head. An instinctual sort of thing.

Don’t fall asleep in public places.

Don’t fall asleep at someone’s house you don’t know.

You know the owner of the house, you think. You’ve been here once or twice. But you don’t know everyone at the party and where your friends have gone because they’re not in the group talking here and you should probably stand up soon, to wake yourself up, don’t let your friends down, don’t be that girl who falls asleep at the party, don’t—

You jolt again.

Wake up. You tell yourself. Leon’s looking at you out of the corner of his eye, but you ignore it.

It feels like a record skip. You’ll blink, and the conversation isn’t the same as when you first closed your eyes. The song isn’t the same. Were the lights always this bright?

“Whew!” Ada whistles from above. When did she stand up? “Someone’s got final’s exhaustion written all over their face!”

The group laughs and you do too, but it sounds different. Leon doesn’t. Why isn’t he laughing?

You jolt again. Harder this one. A full body shake. You wince as your knee knocks into Leon’s.

“Sorr—“

“Stop that.” He grumbles, and oh. A warm, solid hand snakes around your waist and pulls you closer. Closed to that warm, stupidly comfortable side.

This is wrong. It’s Leon. It’s Leon. You can’t. And this is a party, and your friends are here—

“Stop being stupid,” You can feel his chest rumble from where your cheek is pressed flush against it, and when did that happen? He picks up your left arm and drapes it across his stomach, then picks up your right arm and wraps it around his lower pack. “Squeeze.”

You listen, and wow. Who has time to go to the gym this much and be an academic rival? You feel like you’re slacking. Maybe you need to make time to get some—

“I can hear you thinking,” He says, voice deep and rumbly. It’s honestly a miracle you can hear him over the music. It’s probably because your face is pressed against his chest. If you strain, you can feel the dull thud of his heart.

“You have a heart?” You say, half-delirious with exhaustion. It comes out more as a question than a statement

“Mhm,” He rumbles. “I am in possession of one. Great observation princess.”

You frown into his chest. “Why are you always so mean? You call me that stupid name. I’m not a princess.”

“I’m not mean. Whoever said princess was a mean nickname? You decided that on your own.”

“Then how come you call me that?”

“Because,” He huffs, repositioning to a more slouched position that’s more comfortable for your neck. The arm tightens around your waist.

It’s nice. It’s possessive. Protective. No one’s ever really done that for you before. Usually it’s you doing the protecting.

You don’t want to relax. You can’t. You can’t.

“Because,” He continues, “Princesses need to be taken care of. Especially smart, stubborn princesses who never pause for one second. Not even when they should.”

You should get up. Apologize for how weird you’re being. Have another coffee or energy drink. Join the party. Do something that isn’t this.

“Go to sleep,” He says, his voice like a warm blanket settling and slipping into your mind. “Nothing‘s going to happen to you while I’m here. No one is going to be mad at you for sleeping. And if they are, I’ll kick their ass. Go to sleep.”

It’s easy to give in after that.

You sag, boneless. Like a puppet with it’s strings cut. You inhale deeply, breathing in the deep, rich scent that’s distinctly Leon.

Just for a few minutes. Because Leon’s watching. He won’t let something happen to you. Just for a few minutes. You’ll get up soon. You will.

He tucks you closer to him. “Sleep.”

You’re out like a light.

—

“No way, she’s actually asleep?”

“Holy shit Leon, did you drug her?”

“I did not.”

“Well, thanks, for whatever weird magic-spell you cast. Seriously. We’re all starting to get worried about her. She doesn’t take any breaks and she doesn’t let anyone help. Last week a librarian found her asleep on the printer. Fully standing.”

“Hmm.”

“I’m going to start inviting you to our apartment if it means she’ll actually get some fucking sleep. It’s unsettling finding her in the same position as when I left like, six hours beforehand.”

“Don’t worry. She’s in good hands.”

—

It’s horrific, running into him in the library.

What makes it more horrible is the fact that you’re ugly crying silently in the English textbook section, because it’s always empty. You’re ugly crying in the English textbook section of the university library and Leon Kennedy just walked into the aisle.

You sniff, lifting your head from your knees to stare up at him from the ground. He has a knack for finding you at your lowest, it would seem.

“We’ve got to stop seeing each other like this, princess.”

“Oh?” You sniff hard, running a hand across your face as if that will clear up your red rimmed, puffy eyes, the tear tracks on your face, or the flush on your nose. The action at least wipes away the snot. “I wasn’t aware you ever fell asleep on me at a party. Did I ever find you crying in the English textbook section of the library?”

He tilts his head. “Why the English textbook section? It’s one of your best subjects.”

“It’s the emptiest section. Plus, anyone looking for an English textbook at this hour isn’t going to bat an eye at me.” You wrap your arms around your legs and hug them to your chest. “What are you doing here?”

“One of your roommates called Ada. They said you haven’t been home since this morning. They thought you might’ve been at hers, or with me.”

You snort. “It’s like they don’t even know me.”

He rolls his eyes. “I think they were hoping you’d be there. I think anyone who knows you knew you’d be here.”

“Crying in the English section?”

“In the library, dumbass.”

He stalks forward, leaning back against the bookshelf across from you and sliding his hands into his sweatpants pockets.

“Tell me. Is your pathological avoidance to asking for help conscious or not?”

You kick out, one shoed foot catching him in the shins. “Dick.”

He shrugs. “Just want to know. I can’t exactly gloat over scoring two points above you if you’re not in top form. I want a fair fight.”

“Is that what you're here for?” You ask suddenly, everything in your body going rigid. “You think this is funny?”

“No,” He says calmly. “I’m here because you’re being stupid again. You know what’s not healthy, or smart?”

He gestures to you. You, sitting on the floor, tears drying on your face. “This. Going out to parties to make your friends happy when you should be at home, sleeping. Studying for so long you end up looking like your boyfriend of eight years just broke up with you. Come on, princess. Where’s those brains you brag about?”

“They’re up here,” You tap your forehead. Against your will, your eyes burn, tears welling up, your face tightening. “And they’re tired.”

You drop your head into your hands, forgoing your silent crying of earlier in the place of open mouth sobbing. You can’t help it. You’re just so tired. So done with it all. With trying to keep up, with trying to make space, with trying to make time. With doing your best and it not being enough. You’re tired of being tired.

“Annnd there it is. Come here.”

He lowers himself to the floor next to you, tucking you close in a similar fashion as that night at the party.

“Come on, same thing as before. Hold onto me. Give yourself a minute.”

You wrap your arms around his middle, same way as last time, burying your face into his shoulder. Someone could see. Someone you know might see you crying and think—

He reaches a hand up and pulls the hood of your sweatshirt over your head.

“There. Now no one can see your face. Stop worrying. Just cry, princess.”

You sniffle. “I’m getting snot on your sweatshirt.”

“It’s had worse on it.”

“Gross.”

You can practically feel the eye roll. “Can you stop being dirty-minded and focus on something productive? Like crying? Or not crying, if that would make you feel better.”

You shift, so your head is lying against his shoulder instead of smashed into it like before.

“Why do you care if I feel better?”

Why do you care?

He shrugs against you.

“Told you,” He pushes your hood back a bit, tapping you on the forehead with his pointer finger. “My competition’s no fun if she’s not taking care of herself. How else is she gonna kick my ass?”

“I can take care of myself just fine. I don’t need you to swoop in here, Leon.”

“Mhm,” He says. “And i’m sure you do great at it, considering you’re still alive and kicking my ass at those stupid socratic seminars. Consider this… self-care. In the face mask, getting your nails done way.”

“Who taught you self care?”

“Ada. We have face mask nights.”

You jolt up. “Is she—“

“She’s not my girlfriend, we’re not fucking, no she’s not going to be upset or care in any way about this. Calm down.”

You begrudgingly settle back against him.

“If anything,” He continues. “She’ll be excited to see you at more parties in the coming months.”

You frown. “I never said—“

“You only go to parties if your friends physically drag you or when you feel confident enough in your grades and the general state of your life. It’s really easy to tell which version of you shows up to the party. It’s the way you dress.”

“How so?”

He shifts slightly. Guilt twinges in your stomach as you realize how uncomfortable he must be.

“You wear your pick-me-up pants when you’re dragged there. The ones that make your ass look great.”

You sit up with a gasp. “My hot pants?”

He raises an eyebrow. “Is that what you call them?”

Your brain catches up to the rest of what he said. “Hold on. Did you just say—“

“I said what I said. I’m assuming there’s a reason you call them your hot pants.”

He smirks, and you flush.

“Moving onto more pressing matters,” He tilts his head at you. “You have two options this evening. Either I take you back to your place and you sleep in your own bed, or you come to my place and we binge watch the Oceans movies until you fall asleep.”

“How did you know I like the—“

“The icebreaker for club thing. You said they were your favorite movies.”

You look up at him. “You remembered?”

“You were wearing your hot jeans.”

“You’re the worst.”

He scans your face for a moment, eyes sparking with mirth and a little something less innocent. “Maybe.”

You sigh and lean back against him, exhaustion from all your crying hitting you at once.

“Nuh-uh, no sleeping here. You gotta pick one. My place or yours?”

You frown into his shoulder. “Ugh. Fine. Yours, but only because I wanna watch the Ocean’s movies. You better not have a disgusting frat house.”

“I do not. I do have popcorn and ice cream.”

“Ada bought those, didn’t she?”

“Nope,” He says, nudging you with his shoulder to stand. You clamber in gracefully to your feet, your head starting to pound. “Chris likes to have movie nights. It pays to be well stocked.”

Your cheeks warm as a large, steadying hand finds its way to the small of your back. “How many of my friends are you friends with?”

“I was friends with them first.”

“Ass.”

He chuckles incredulously. “For having friends?”

“Yes,” You say, letting him pull you to his side while you walk to your table where you left your stuff. Probably not the best idea to leave your entire net-worth unattended, but whatever. You were going through it. “How dare you.”

“Mmm. I see. My apologies, princess. I’ll tell Chris and Ada.”

“You get on that.”

You can’t help but smile as he helps you pack up your things, passing you items across the table and carefully zipping up your pencil case.

“Don’t touch my papers, I have a system.”

“Is the system absolute chaos?”

“Shut up.”

Once everything is packed up, you zip up your backpack, but before you can sling it on, Leon’s arm darts out and snags it right out from under you.

Your expression grows pinched. “I can carry my own bag, Leon.”

“I know you can.”

“Give me my bag.”

“No.”

You groan. “Why do you want to carry my bag?”

“See, there’s this thing called chivalry—“

“Oh my god, shut up. When have you and chivalry ever been synonymous?”

He shrugs. “Ever since I met the girl in the hot jeans who regularly kicks my ass academically.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Mmm,” He hums, wrapping an arm around your waist and walking you towards the doors to the library. “And you’re stubborn. Come on. Brad Pitt and George Clooney are waiting for you.”

You sigh dramatically, hiding a small smile in your hand.

Maybe you could get used to this.

masterlist | next part

♡ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ౨ৎ ‧₊ .ᐟ

[tender-rosiey]

sick — gojo satoru x f!reader

a/n: taking care of gojo cause he deserves it my baby :((

satoru forces his eyes open with a great struggle, but seeing your face makes it worth it. he presses a kiss to your forehead, before, reluctantly, peeling off the covers and heading to the bathroom.

his steps are heavier and his mind is a bit hazy. he figures quickly that he‘s caught a cold. but, like the idiot he is, he brushes it off cause what’s a little cold to the strongest sorcerer?

small coughs escape his lips every now then as he gets ready. he applauds himself for being able to do everything—despite the coughing fits—without waking you up.

finally, he tiptoes his way to your sleeping form to give you a kiss on the forehead once again. he takes a last look at your face and he smiles, one reserved for you only.

and so the routine is done! he is satisfied as he walks to the door, ready to act like his normal self that definitely doesn’t have a fever that is worsening by the second.

his hand reaches for the doorknob and, “satoru, where the hell do you think you’re going?”

he turns to you, a grin plastered on his face as he tries masking his coughs, “hey, hun! lovely morning, isn’t it? I was about to—“

“sit your ass back down.”

“yes ma’am,” he mumbles, looking like a kicked puppy.

you roll your eyes before pulling him back to bed. but, of course, he tries to fight it, “y/n, I am fine, really!”

“no, you’re not,” you huff as you make him lay down on the bed and cover him with the blankets, “your breath is heavier and your face is flushed.”

you press a hand to his forehead before gasping, “satoru, you’re burning up! and you wanted to work like this?”

“hey! nothing the strongest—“ he coughs in between, “—can’t handle,” he smiles, trying to assure you, but you don’t buy it.

and you are about to retort, but satoru’s phone rings, cutting your thoughts off. the caller is one of the higher ups.

before your husband gets the chance, you snatch the phone and answer the call instead, “can I help you?”

satoru has given up fighting about it anymore and simply accepts his fate. he snuggles closer to your chest while you listen to whatever the old man is yapping about.

then you respond, “satoru’s not going anywhere,” you tighten your hold on him and he feels his flutter a little at your secure hold. when was the last time he felt protected?

the old man’s yapping turns into barking and his voice is like chalk scratching the board so you sigh and reply, tone giving no room for further discussion, “he is sick. also, why don’t you up your game a bit? you’re maybe double or triple his age? shouldn’t you be able protect yourself? anyways bye! rot in hell!”

you end the call with a smile before tossing the phone to the side. satoru smiles into your shirt, “that was hot of you.”

“oh shut up,” you grumble as you pat his head, “how did you get sick anyways?”

satoru takes a deep breath, brows furrowed before he replies, “one of the curses was related to ice…or whatever,” you hum in response and he snuggles into the crook of your neck.

seeing satoru all weak, maybe even helpless breaks your heart. he is usually so loud, so bright, but now he looks so tired, frail even.

you sigh as your fingers card through his hair. you would’ve preferred if his day-off was spent with him being his usual self rather than all sick like this.

though you can’t deny that a part of you feels a little happy because he trusts you enough to be completely vulnerable with him.

so you press a kiss to the top of his head and he stirs around a bit, words a little slurry, “…what’s wrong?”

“it’s nothing, but I have to go and make you some soup, satoru,” you say while trying to get up, but his hold on you tightens.

he voice is hoarse, barely above a whisper, “…stay.”

your heart clenches at the soft plea, but you know that he needs to be well fed so he can recover quickly, “satoru, honey, you need to eat so you can get better,” your hear him groan before reluctantly pulling way.

still, his hand is holding onto your own, and he looks up to you, eyes barely open, oh how you missed seeing those blue gems shinning as usual, even if they scared the shit out of you at night, “just don’t take long…please.”

you nod and press a kiss to the top of his head, “look at you being so polite.”

he grumbles, making you giggle.

you finally make your way to the kitchen. you hope that satoru can sleep a bit till you’re done with the soup.

you don’t feel the time as it passes, already invested in making the best soup for your sick husband.

after a while, you’re finally done. you give yourself a pat on the back before carrying it to the bedroom. you speak, voice low, “satoru?”

he turns in his sleep and slowly opens his eyes, smiling a little, “you’re back?”

“of course, I am, silly. I would never leave you,” and both of you know that those words hold much deeper meaning than it looks like.

you set the soup on the nightstand, “come on, you need to eat, honey.”

he stretches a bit before sitting up—the movement seems to cause him pain but he hopes you don’t point it out—, a wide smile on his lips as he looks at you, “my pretty wife made soup, just for me?” he coughs a little, “I am flattered.”

he sounds better, you note. that sleep must’ve done him good so you hope the soup will make him feel even better.

you take a hold of the bowl and satoru opens his mouth, expectantly. you quirk an eyebrow at him, “what are you doing?”

he closes his mouth with a pout, “you’re not going to feed me?”

he is finally back to his antics, you think as you narrow your eyes, “and why would I do that?”

“because I am your very sick husband who only wants to be pampered by his pretty—“ he is cut off by you shoving the spoon in his mouth.

he swallows the soup, satisfied, and with a grin so wide you’re thinking of smacking him for looking so smug yet so cute at the same time, “thank you, honey!”

you roll your eyes, albeit fondly, “yeah, yeah,” you huff as you feed him another spoon and the smile never leaves his face.

you also notice the little kicking of his feet. does being spoon-fed by you really make him this giddy?

“y/n, you know how everyone boasts about my strength?” you feed him another spoon and he hums in contentment before continuing, “I think my only weakness is you.”

“doesn’t that make you scared?” you inquire as you set the empty bowl aside and satoru wastes no time as he hugs your waist as snuggles into your chest, his favorite place, “having a weakness and everything.”

he shakes your head, “nope, it just makes me want to get even stronger so I can protect you.”

he thinks for a moment, “you got me wrapped around your pretty fingers and I don’t see anything wrong with that,” he then grins, looking up at you.

it’s silent for a while before you speak up, “satoru.”

“hm?” you practically hear the smirk his voice.

you deadpan, “did you just fart?”

“honey, I could never!” and satoru thanks the heaven that he is sick cause he knows that he would’ve been hit by every single pillow on this bed otherwise.

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do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported

[literaila]

I seriously love the relationship between Megumi and reader. He is in fact, a mama's boy lol

But Dadgojo and Megumi moments are cute as hell too

So herw you go a small oneshot: Little Megs would always go to reader's or Tsumiki's bedroom when he has nightmares. He already trusts you enough to see him vulnerable and goes to seek for your protection, and of course you never complain and comfort him.

But this time is different. He had a nightmare and you were on a mission and Tsumiki is staying at a friend's house.

There is only one person left in the house: Gojo.

So, with the greatest shame and irritation in the world at having to depend on his annoying and childish dad, he goes to Gojo's room because at moments like these he can't stand being alone. So he eats his shame and goes to seek for him.

You can imagine reader's surprise when she comes back home in the morning and finds Satoru and your son cuddling together on the bed, Megumi's hold on Gojo's shirt tight as both sleep peacefully.

You swear you are not like Satoru, but you can't help it but to pick up the phone and take thousands of pictures of this rare moment, knowing it wont happen again (because Megumi won't do it twice after Satoru didn't stop mocking him about it.)

honestly you might as well just write the series for me. like do you wanna look in my inbox? you can write all of the one shots currently rotting away (i’m not asking im pleading)

this is so correct though.

megumi’s just not used to not having you home. when this arrangement first began you took some time off, let satoru handle everything (as per usual) so you could take care of the kids. adapt.

when you resume your former busy schedule, both of the kids are slightly thrown off. and satoru too—because he misses you. he’s known the caress of your absence and isn’t fond of the feeling.

and now it’s megumi’s turn.

but the boy doesn’t start having serious nightmares till around seven or eight (despite the…lack of an upbringing, the rotting apartment and cuddling with tsumiki in bed so neither of them froze in their sleep).

when it happens the first time, he sits there, waiting for some answer to come. he’s a quiet, stoic kid—and he doesn’t get scared. he’s not like his soft, kind sister. he doesn’t even flinch when others would jump.

he lays there until he falls asleep again. and he won’t mention it. megumi doesn’t need to worry you or satoru (mostly you) with this.

then it happens a second time.

this time he’s woken up on the verge of tears—already passed that breaking point—and he can’t stay in bed. he can’t lay there and recall images of monsters no child should understand.

so he gets out of bed—but just for a glass of water. he’s still not scared.

though it just so happens that you’re already in the kitchen when he gets there, and it just so happens that you know things about him—just because you know—so there’s nothing he can do to hide any of it.

still, you’ll only tilt your head at him, giving him a half-sleepy smile. “hey, megs. you okay?”

“i’m thirsty.”

so you get him his glass of water and you watch while he takes tentative sips.

again, somehow you just know. the same way that megumi knows that you know.

“are you having a hard time sleeping?” you ask him, after a minute of silence.

megumi shakes his head on instinct.

you’re still smiling. “bad dreams?”

and he could lie—he’s so very used to lying about things like this. megumi doesn’t want people to see him as this little boy who needs their help. he wants an equal playing field, and he doesn’t want to be scared.

but he is.

and when it comes to you, and only you, megumi is a terrible liar.

so he nods, and your smile remains—sure as always.

“i get ‘em too,” you whisper to him. “even when i was a kid. especially then.”

“you do?”

“yup. all the time.”

“what…” megumi furrows his brows. “what do you do?”

“hmm…” you go and stand beside him at the counter, leaning your chin on a hand. “well, it depends on the dream. sometimes they’re… smaller. and i can usually sleep through those ones, but i always remember them in the morning.”

megumi nods; he has all sorts of dreams.

dreams of running around with tsumiki, of going on missions with gojo. he dreams of you in the kitchen, you telling him to keep going. and he dreams of the dark. of a house that could never be a home.

he dreams of being all alone, and when he wakes up, it feels so real that he can’t help it.

he begins to believe that it’s true.

“when i have bigger ones, though, that i can’t sleep though… well, usually i just wake satoru up.”

megumi frowns. “why?”

“he’s so irritating that i forget all about the dream.”

“oh. yeah.”

you laugh. “or i just ask him for a hug. he always says yes. or i wake him up and we steal a car and drive around for a bit,” you add, almost absentmindedly.

megumi blinks, about to interrupt, but you continue.

“sometimes i just lay in bed until i fall back asleep. or i get up and do something else—get some water,” you give him a pointed look, “so that it feels less real.”

“does it work?”

“most of the time,” you answer, so softly. and you’re right there next to him, still smiling. “wanna watch a movie or something? i’ll let you pick.”

megumi frowns. you don’t like to let them stay up late (despite satoru’s many attempts to go out for gas station ice cream at three in the morning). “really?”

“sure.”

and you sit with him on the couch, not cuddling, but close enough.

megumi listens to you laugh at the random movie he put on—something tsumiki likes—and it feels a little bit better. he feels a little less alone.

and later on, just when he’s falling back to sleep, almost slumping on you, you’ll whisper to him: “the thing about nightmares, megumi,” your hand is in his hair and your voice is almost a lullaby. “is that you can always wake up.”

so megumi gets in the habit of looking for you when he’s had a nightmare—the bad ones, like you mentioned. he doesn’t ask you for a hug, or ask you to sit with him, but you do anyway.

and somehow the two of you will end up on the couch, or in his bed, so close together that megumi can’t have another bad dream (because he’s suffocating).

but on this night—the one night where you’re not home—megumi isn’t sure what to do.

because he doesn’t want to be alone. he doesn’t want to feel trapped in his room, and there’s no way he’s falling back asleep now, and why did he forget that you weren’t going to be home tonight, and—

“psst,” a voice says, a little bit amused. “why are you awake, kid?”

almost immediately megumi straightens. his arms cross like it’s a habit. and when he looks to gojo, he’s already expecting the grin. “why are you?”

“i was calling y/n. or she was calling me. it’s hard to be away from me, you know,” gojo is sprawled out on the couch, taking megumi’s spot.

“it can’t be that hard.”

gojo shakes his head, pouting. “are you awake because the guilt from all of the cruel things you say is keeping you up?”

megumi rolls his eyes. says a curt: “no,” and then pauses.

if you’re not here then what…

“what else could it be?”

“nothing,” megumi answers, immediately defensive.

gojo purses his lips, considering megumi. “why do you look weird?”

“why do you?”

“is that the only insult you’ve got?”

and finally, the boy gives in. he steps over to the couch, sitting down next to gojo (ten feet away) with his arms still crossed. “it’s late.”

“that’s no excuse, young fushiguro.”

they both sit there for a moment, staring off.

then gojo speaks up: “you know y/n would kill you if she knew you were awake, right?”

“no. she would kill you.”

“that’s…” gojo huffs. “true.”

at this, megumi lets out a grunt—it could be a laugh, could be a cough.

he doesn’t want to tell gojo about the dreams, he decides. because he doesn’t want to be ridiculed, and he doesn’t want gojo to tell you and then—

he’s not even scared. you’re gone, tsumiki is sleeping, and gojo is… staring at him.

“are you going to answer my question?”

megumi merely grunts again.

“c’mon, don’t make this awkward.”

“can’t. you already have.”

gojo scoffs, leaning back again, crossing his arms in a poor mimic. “we’ve been letting nanami watch you too much,” he says, but continues. “fine. don’t tell me. i can call y/n back right now and you can talk to—“

“no,” megumi looks over to him, wide eyes.

“then speak, kid.”

he sighs, annoyed. at least you’re right about one thing. it takes a moment, but megumi relents because he has to. “i had a bad dream.”

gojo’s face goes slack. “oh.”

megumi feels like crawling into himself, for just a moment, and then: “do you want to talk about it?”

blue eyes meet blue, and megumi frowns. “what?”

“do you want to talk about it?” gojo repeats, but… weirdly, this time. awkwardly.

“um..” is all the boy says, feeling like he should move away. like to his room away. like he should probably find someone else to live with, a random stranger, even, because that would be easier.

“i don’t know, okay?” gojo blurts out, like it was killing him not to. “that’s just what y/n asks me when i have a nightmare.”

“you have nightmares?”

gojo is running his hands through his hair, looking like he’s about to go on a tangent. but when megumi asks his question, gojo pauses. he gives megumi a look. “doesn’t everyone?”

megumi scowls. “i don’t know.”

“huh. well, i have them. sometimes.”

“and you tell y/n?”

gojo snorts, shaking his head. “there’s no telling y/n anything. she just—“

“knows.”

gojo nods, giving megumi a small wink that makes the little boy want to throw up.

“so…” gojo taps his fingers on the couch. “do you want to talk about it?”

“why would i want to talk about it with you?”

“well you came out into the living room looking all… surly.”

“surly?” megumi repeats, with a face.

“down. upset. sad.”

“i’m not sad.”

“people who aren’t sad don’t need to deny that they’re sad.”

“y/n isn’t here,” megumi says, shaking his head. “i could hit you and be fine.”

gojo laughs, again, relaxing once more. because the man cannot be serious for any longer than three minutes. it’s biologically impossible. “i’d like to see you try,” he whispers, and it’s just enough.

megumi falls asleep on the couch that night. he spends another half hour arguing with gojo about whatever he says—forgetting about his dream, the reason for coming into the living room in the first place.

and when you get home, you open the door to the sight of two boys, both drooling.

megumi has his head pressed against satoru’s shoulder, hair smushed against his face. satoru is crossing his arms, face tilted towards the ceiling as he snores.

…it’s pretty obvious what happens next.

[grimm-writings]

moments

…ft! touden party, falin x gn! reader, izutsumi & reader

…tags! tooth-rotting fluff, drabbles

…wc! 70 ; 87 ; 95 ; 92 ; 108; 106 = 558

…notes! i feel like a negligent parent with my lack of works lately. here’s something small.

Laios enjoys napping with you under the shade of a tree.  In this moment, there’s nothing stopping you and him from understanding one another completely.  With a gentle breeze flowing, Laios finds his hands resting on your back as you turn to collapse on top of him, earning a small wheeze from him.  But he laughs, and he holds you.  It's time for rest.  Forget your responsibilities for a while.

Marcille will come to you every time she finishes a book in a daze.  She recalls the ending to you, as she usually does when she has finished a few chapters for the past few days.  However, in her post-book stupor, she finds herself more prone to rambling and such.  Still, she isn’t anxious about ‘talking too much’ or otherwise.  The way you engage with her and help ground her, especially if an ending is particularly stressful, is her favourite routine.  She shan’t trade it for anything.

Chilchuck gets busy on workdays.  With his shop and representing his fellow half-foots, his hands can get very full, very quickly.  This is why he’s thankful for your presence, welcoming him home with open arms, a tasty meal, and a hot bath prepared just for him.  You get to watch as the furrow in his brow relaxes in the midst of you.  When all is said and done, when you lay in bed together, he finds respite in this moment.  That at his age is a rare feat.  You’re really something to behold, aren’t you?

Senshi finds the time spent after a hearty meal to be some of the most tender.  Standing beside one another, Senshi plunging cutlery into suddy water only to hand it to you to dry, is like something out of a dream.  Momentarily, not only is he doing what he loves, but he’s doing it with someone he loves too.  Someone he might consider spending the rest of his days like this, washing the dishes.  He’s always sure to thank you for helping, his beard barely disguising the wide smile on his face.

Izutsumi is hardly one for staying relaxed in a perfect moment, but she still lets her guard down around you no matter how many times she tries to catch herself.  It’s a slow process.  First slouches against your arm, before turning to nuzzle into it, and then she rests her head on your shoulder and finds herself curling into you entirely.  It’s hard not to pet and scratch her, but don’t be surprised when she finally realises what she’s doing and pulls away entirely, embarrassed and acting like you’re the problem.  It’s but a moment, though a peaceful one she wouldn’t mind falling into the trap of again.

Falin sees her whole world in moments.  Little treasures to be looked back on with a tenderness and fullness unlike any other.  That’s why, with you, she holds all the time you spend together close to her heart.  From the first time your fingers brushed against one another to a late night conversation, Falin remembers each and every one, all committed to memory.  That way, when you see each other again, Falin is flooded with a feeling of bliss.  The thoughts and yearn for your smile directed at her is a moment in itself.  When you wear that glowing expression, how could she ask for more?

[brittle-doughie]

Go Smell the Flowers (Flower City)

“Well, just let me know if the medicine I gave you isn’t giving you the desired effects. R-Remember, medicine may be sour, but it can also be sweet!”

Bitter Candy Cookie tried to lift up your spirits with her optimistic tone, but it was clear that she wasn’t confident in saying them. She sheepishly giggled before leaving the room and closing the door. Dumpling Cookie was waiting on her, leaning on the wall next to the door as she adjusts her glasses.

Heya @/iatemitomt0day

“How is Y/N?”

Bitter Candy Cookie sighed as she took her medical helmet off, brushing her sour belt hair.

“I’ve tried plenty of medicine, but nothing seems to be working to cure the sweating or the tiredness. They look like they’re sleeping well and their chambers are at normal temperature, it’s a real headache…”

“I see…you can run back to the infirmary. I’ll take it from here, ‘kay?.”

“Okay, but you better let me know if their condition gets worse or anything. It’s my job to heal!”

“Please make your way out…”

Bitter Candy walked down the hallway and out of sight, Dumpling standing up from the wall.

…

…

“I know you were listening, general. You can come out now…”

Salsa Cookie popped around the corner from a nearby hallway.

“Skip the formalities, Dumpling. I’ve heard it all, it’s making me worried for our majesty’s condition.”

“It goes without saying. Ever since they came back from Beast-Yeast by blueberry birds, their condition has been…flaring up. I don’t want to say it’s getting worse, rather..more frequent..”

“This can’t be a coincidence. This is happening every time they come back from their trips to the Ancient Heroes lately! Don’t you think they might have something to do with this?”

“We can’t assume that, but we can’t rule out that this is just any ordinary fever either-“

“This “sickness” gets worse every time they go with them and now I’m hearing them mumble to themself and the frequent visits to Chamomile Cookie?” Something isn’t right here…”

“I have my own thoughts, but I’ll need more time to gather them before making conclusions.”

“So what do we do? Let them rot in their chambers until the next Ancient Hero comes busting down our castle doors?!”

“No, what they need…is a break. To get away from all this. We can manage through kingdom while they’re away…”

“Y/N leaving the kingdom was the whole reason they’re like this!”

“No, not just anywhere, but a place I’ve visited a while ago. The Flower City…”

———————————————————————

Bold text = Dumpling Cookie

Dumpling Cookie opened the door to your chambers, she could see the medicine and therapist papers scattered about on your table. One bottle was meant to help have good night dreams, so it subtly shocked her to see that the bottle was empty.

“Y/N?”

You turned your body in bed to face her, Dumpling’s eyes widen to see your tired state. It wasn’t a sleep related tiredness, but rather..it felt like your soul was tired…Dumpling’s tone took on a more gentle and soft tone.

“Me and Salsa Cookie were talking about your condition…”

“I know, it’s becoming a bad habit lately, I’ve tried many things like medicine or sleeping during the day. I just feel..stuck.”

“Well, I might have something to help with that. I know a place that I’ve visited a whole back, the Flower City of the Fluffy Rice Cake Continent…”

“Oh right…you told me about that place before…”

“Yes, and I do believe that it might help with what ails you…”

“I can’t. I’ve been leaving the kingdom too often lately, I need to stay and tend to my kingly/queenly duties…”

“Me, Crowned, and Salsa will handle the kingdom in your stead again. Please, at least give it a shot…we will explain things to the others if they ask…”

Dumpling went to gently hold your hand in the bed, as she gave you a pleading look. You look around your room, seeing the state it was in.

Then you look at yourself…so enclosed, so withdrawn into your sheets…

…

…

No…

You were not going to let them win….

With a determined look, you sit up from your bed and take off the sheets.

“Maybe you’re right. A change of scenery from Crispía might be what I need to feeling better again…”

———————————————————————

And just like that, you were ready to hop on the airship to the Flower City. Picking up your bag of things, you made your way to port, looking down at the ground as you reflect…

“There’s nowhere you can hide, cookie….”

Of course….you can slightly see her snake slitted eyes out of the corner of yours…

“Put as much distance between yourself and us, it doesn’t change anything. Completely futile…”

“YOOHOOO! Trying to get away from me, you silly~? I happen to be quite the patient one, y’know! Especially with you~!”

And then there was two…it’s only a matter of time before…

“Ha! Squirm all you like, Y/N Cookie, it’s only a matter of time before you’re broken~ I will revel the day I get you on your knees~!”

You felt their hands crawling on your back….her voice was sounding right behind you.

“You will always be..ours…”

“…..I know..…”

“Wait, really? It was that easy-“

“But we’ll see about that.”

You mustered up an air of your previous confidence. Something you haven’t felt in a while…

You didn’t feel the hands anymore.

You didn’t see the eyes anymore either. Their presence just wasn’t felt anymore as you approach the airship.

“Good afternoon, passenger! Are you joining us on this flight? It’s heading for the Flower City on the Fluffy Rice Cake Continent!”

“Yes, I have my ticket here!”

“Hmm..okay! Everything looks accordingly! Please take your seat, we’ll be taking off very soon!”

“Thank a bunch.”

You hopped aboard and sat down, instinct telling you to look out the window to watch the land around you. Sunny day, generous foliage, petals falling to the ground by the wind.

Peaceful…just like how you wished you could go back to being….

“Excuse me!”

You were snapped out of your thoughts to turn to your left, towards the aisle between both sides of the ship.

“Are you heading into the Flower City too?”

“Yup, going there for a brief getaway. Stress from life and all.”

“Stress? Don’t worry, maybe my incense can help?”

“Incense?”

The cookie brought her incense lamp out and gently lights it up, allowing the sweet aroma to flow.

“Ah, it’s a pretty lovely smell, I can tell you that! It’s…actually chipping away at my stress a bit.”

“Ehehe, scents can hold great power! Able to relax even the most stressed out of cookies!”

“Yeah, thank you. I needed that.”

“Since this is your first time to Flower City, I’d be happy to show you around!”

“Oh, there’s no need to do that. I brought a map of the continent-“

“It’s outdated, I know the city and I’m okay going with you!”

The ship intercom came on, halting the cookie’s talk with you.

“Attention, passengers. This is your captain speaking, the airship to the Flower City will be departing shortly! Please take your seats!”

“Oh! I almost forgot to take my seat. Please, if you don’t mind!”

The cookie went to sit down next to you in your seat!

Wasn’t she planning on going to another seat?!

[gay-dorito-dust]

hobie brown (spider-punk!!) is giving me severe brain rot, i love him sm 😭

if you ever decide to write for him, could you do some relationship hcs??

ty ^^

Not sure wether this is what you wanted but I hope it was worth it.

Music from the heart:

One of the most obvious ones is that Hobie would have a plethora of songs about you, it’s fucking adorable and so sweet, and so he would play them for you within the comfort of your room because where else would you rather be serenaded?

If anything it makes the moment more special and memorable for the both of you as something you can look back on with fondness.

Though you probably try teasing him one day by asking how many more songs of you he had in the works and Hobie would either say ‘too many to count.’ Or ‘a whole albums worth.’ He’s not going to hide the fact that he’s got notebook after notebook filled with song lyrics dedicated to you.

Pda though not quite:

Hobie isn’t the type to heavily involve himself in PDA but isn’t against the likes of:

holding hands.

his hand being placed on the small of your back when guiding you somewhere else.

the classic arm over the shoulder.

Thigh holding

His/ your head resting on each others shoulders and or laps.

Guitar pick:

This one came to my head out of the blue but I’m gonna add it here even though I’m not too certain but here it is anyway:

if Hobie uses guitar picks to play his guitar -which he probs doesn’t but idk- I’d like to think he’d make you a guitar pick necklace from one of his old picks.

Sure he hates gifts and such but this is the sole expectation alongside any and all handcrafted jewellery you may give him because he wears that shit with pride.

Terms of endearment:

Love

Darling

Sweetheart

Impromptu sleepovers:

Hobie crashes at your place more often then not to the point he might as well be living with you in regards of how often he leaves something of his at yours, so much so you’ve begun to wonder if he was doing it intentionally or accidentally.

Either way you made sure that his stay was comfortable by having a makeshift bed set up for him so he didn’t have to constantly sleep on the uncomfortable couch and wake up with a crooked neck.

Hobie appreciates all that you do for him but would often tell you it’s not necessary but you weren’t about to get into a discussion about whether or not he was deserving of help because the answer was obvious and that answer would always and forever will be; yes.

Also he’s a bit of a cuddle bug but only with you but that’s your little secrete.

Date nights:

Most, if not all of your dates are either just the pair of you being your natural selves in the comfort of your own home where’d you would talk about anything and everything that came to your mind, free of judgment.

or

showing Hobie your undying love and support by showing up to his gigs and scream the loudest because he is talented as shit and deserves a lot more in your eyes.

Either way as long as you were within each others company, anywhere you both went could be considered a date.

Spidey business:

Now this is all dependant on wether or not you know he’s Spider-Man:

If you did then you’d probably would help him patch up his wounds after every fight he had

Or

If you weren’t due to Hobie wanting nothing more then to keep you and that life as far from each other as possible, you’d most definitely would be concerned when you see him with any sustained injuries he tried patching up himself.

No matter how hard you try to get him to tell you what’s wrong, Hobie would just tell you it wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle.

Meeting his friends/ Bragging rights:

Before introducing you to the likes of Pavitr, Miles and Gwen(if you haven’t already met her), it’s almost an 100% guarantee that he brags about you anyway he knows how which only intrigues them more and more to the point they’re just pleading with Hobie to introduce his cool, kickass partner to them.

So when he does, the three are practically hounding you about your relationship with Hobie and when you looked back at him for help in wrangling in his over excited friends, the little shit merely smirks and shrugs his shoulders as though he had no idea they’d react like this, all the while leaning on the wall with his arms crossed over his chest; happy to see all his favourite people he cares about a lot interacting with one another to the point that by the end of the day you’re very good friends with each of them.

[stxrysnow]

contents. suguru geto x gn!reader. fluff. tooth-rotting fluff. they’re very much in love, if you can’t tell.

“you’re cold.”

it’s not a question, like you’d hoped. just a flat—voiced observation that suguru makes, blank—faced, albeit with a hint of a smirk on his lips. and that one glint in his eye that makes your cheeks flush just a tad more, this time— not from the cold.

(the very same spark in those honeyed pools that tells you i told you so.)

you want to despise it; you really do.

but it doesn’t really help when all he does is smile and shake his head, like you were a child caught stealing cookies at midnight out of bed.

doesn’t really help when all you do is accept it all wordlessly anyway— letting his fingers linger on your icy skin as he softly coos the frost away, warmth seeping into your shivering bones so easily that you wonder if you’re that cold or it’s just his warmth.

(probably the latter, but you don’t exactly want to acknowledge it.)

especially right now.

“silly thing,” suguru murmurs.

(you silently bottle up his voice in your head so you could gulp it down whenever he’s not home.)

“you should’ve worn a scarf, at least,” he huffs, but there’s no malice behind it. just an endless need to take care of you. “wear mine— ah, ah— ” his eyes narrow when he hears your protests, and you go quiet immediately, “no buts. i’m afraid you’re in no position to speak right now, baby.”

(so much for feeling like a kicked puppy.)

you don’t want to throw a tantrum, don’t want to kick about aimlessly and make a fuss out of nothing— you really don’t. it’s just that a little part of you hesitates when you see you’re wearing a scarf and he isn’t.

“but— but you’ll be cold too,” you find yourself stammer, despite yourself.

suguru actually feels his heart stop for a good second.

(what did you say?)

he doesn’t say anything.

he just stares.

you feel your heartbeat pick up its pace a little more, cowering and running away like a deer frightened by just a clatter of stones.

(but then again, his stare seems much more than a stone or two.)

did you say something wrong? is he mad at you for spilling out words that you don’t even know you shouldn’t have said? surely not, suguru isn’t mad at you, no matter what you do. it’s really hard to actually get on his nerves when it came to you. did— did you even say any such thing? or perhaps—

you barely register being pulled forward by your arms, and your face squishes against something.

(warm, you think, your eyes fluttering close against suguru’s chest. grounding.)

you breathe in his scent, marvelling at how blank your mind goes from just catching a whiff of it. like that raging inferno of the trembling voices in your head just now was a distant, fever dream.

(you stick to the thought that it might have been.)

“you’re just so. . . precious, you know that?” you blink, staying still for a moment, not quite registering the crack in his voice as he says it. “silly, silly thing.”

(his silly thing.)

you hum against his chest, idly smoothening out the creases in his overcoat— trying not to think about the way his hands seem to pull you closer, closer, closer still— even if you aren’t looking at him.

“tell you what,” you tilt your head upwards, and suguru’s eyes catch you before you fall into them, “we’ll share.”

(share? that’s a first.)

you probably might’ve said that out loud, because that teasing grin is back on his face— golden cheshire eyes catching the misty sunlight and reflecting it all back on the doubtful little shadows that your moon created.

“don’t sweat it. i’m only saying it because i don’t want to hear you whine—”

“i don’t whine,” you huff out, arms crossing over your chest in childlike petulance, and oh the way your heart stutters when he laughs. laughs such a hearty laugh that you can’t help but succumb to its irresistable pull as well, a muffled giggle escaping you despite yourself.

“of course you don’t,” suguru hums, and you feel him wrapping one end of the cozy wool round your neck, “of course you don’t, darling.”

(he wraps his presence round your ribs while he’s at it too.)

(and you’ve never felt so warm.)

@stxrysnow on tumblr. do not copy or post any of my works without my permission.

[kkarinaaz]

sweet nothing

aka / the fluff alphabet

gf!karina x gn!reader

warnings : tooth rotting fluff .

w/n - aaa my first post !! decided to start off with just a short drabble thing , this is winters verison .

a - affection

karina loves showing affection in quiet meaningful ways. she’ll stroke your hair when you’re lying on her lap, hold your hand under the table during dinner, and press soft kisses to your forehead when you’re sleepy.

b - best Friend

before being your girlfriend, karina was your best friend. she knows all your quirks and secrets and loves being the person you can always rely on. she’s always there with a listening ear.

c - cuddles

karina is all about cuddles. she’s the type to pull you onto the couch, wrap you in her arms, and tuck your head under her chin while you both relax. she feels that your warmth makes her feel at peace.

d - dates

karina loves intimate, low-key dates. she’ll take you to her favorite café, on a quiet walks by the river, or stay in for a calm movie night with snacks and blankets.

e - emotions

karina isn’t the most expressive about her emotions with others, but with you, she’s an open book. she feels safe sharing her fears, dreams, and everything in between, knowing you’ll always understand her.

f - fights

she hates fighting with you and avoids it as much as possible. if disagreements arise, she calmly talks through the problem, always focusing on finding a solution rather than assigning blame.

g - gifts

karina is a thoughtful gift-giver. she’ll surprise you with little things she knows you’ll love, like your favorite snack after a long day or a book you mentioned in the past.

h - hugs

her hugs are soft and comforting, like coming home. she’ll wrap her arms around you tightly, resting her head on your shoulder as if she never wants to let go.

i - inspiration

she constantly tells you how much you inspire her. whether it’s your kindness, consideration, or creativity, she always makes you feel appreciated and admired.

j - jealousy

karina doesn’t get jealous easily, but if someone flirts with you, she’ll subtly pull you closer and make it clear you’re hers. she trusts you, but she’s not afraid to remind others where your heart belongs.

k - kisses

karina’s kisses are gentle and sweet, filled with all the love she has for you. she loves kissing you on the forehead or the corner of your lips, but her favorite is a slow, lingering kiss after a long day apart.

l - love Confession

her confession was heartfelt and sincere. she looked into your eyes, her voice trembling slightly as she told you how much you meant to her. it was a moment you’ll never forget.

m - mornings

karina is groggy in the mornings but loves waking up beside you. she’ll pull you closer, mumble something incoherent, and bury her face in your neck, refusing to get out of bed until absolutely necessary.

n - nights

she cherishes nights spent with you, whether it’s stargazing, watching your favorite shows, or lying in bed talking about life. she loves falling asleep with your hand in hers.

o - open

karina is open with her feelings around you. She feels safe enough to be vulnerable and trusts you completely, which makes your bond even stronger.

p - patience

she’s incredibly patient and understanding. if you’re having a bad day or need space, she gives it to you while quietly supporting you from the sidelines.

q - quirks

karina adores all your quirks, from the way you hum while doing chores to your obsession with a specific snack. she often teases you playfully, but it’s clear she loves those little things about you.

r - remember

karina remembers everything about you. from your favorite foods to your childhood stories, she keeps every detail close to her heart and surprises you with how much she pays attention.

s - security

being with karina feels like being wrapped in a protective cocoon. she’s always there to reassure you, making sure you know how loved and safe you are in her presence.

t - traditions

karina loves creating traditions with you, like baking cookies during the holidays or having a picnic in the park every spring. these small rituals make your relationship even more special.

u - understanding

she’s incredibly empathetic and always makes an effort to understand your perspective. even if she doesn’t agree, she values your feelings and works to find common ground.

v - vacation

karina prefers relaxing vacations with you, like a cabin in the woods or a cozy seaside getaway. she loves the idea of spending uninterrupted time together, away from the hustle and bustle of life.

w - worries

she worries about you more than she lets on. if you’re stressed or overworking, she’ll gently remind you to take breaks and take care of yourself, often pampering you to ensure you’re okay.

x - xo (hugs & kisses)

karina isn’t overly affectionate in public but loves showering you with hugs and kisses in private. she makes you feel cherished every time she holds you close.

y - yearning

when you’re apart, she misses you deeply. karina sends you sweet texts throughout the day, reminding you how much she loves you and can’t wait to see you again.

z - zeal

karina loves wholeheartedly and with great passion. she puts her all into your relationship, making you feel like the most special person in the world every single day.

i hope ppl like this, i tried my best at it !!

requests : open ( i write for any group )

[zwhoreo]

Why be sad when you can be horny instead? Luffy cheering you up by eating you out #TeamSmut

I’M POSTING AGAIN!! now with my THIRD story about luffy eating you out on the deck of the ship

cheering you up - luffy x f!reader

smut

summary: while you’re lethargic and sad from being on sea for so long, luffy offers oral sex to cheer you up one night

contains: oral (f receiving)

words: 1.9k

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You’re sad, not by any particular event but just by the way monotony permeates. The sea is large. It takes a long time to sail between islands, exciting adventures that take a few days are framed by weeks and weeks at sea with nothing other than your friends, your boyfriend, yourself. That last part doesn’t sound so bad, right? Your friends, your boyfriend.

Luffy rests his chin on your shoulder and begs for attention. He’s sprawled all limp and tangled and he’s been whining for the last hour about how bored he is, how much he wants to go exploring and do something fun and even this fancy ship gets boring after awhile, he doesn’t want to look at the fish or play on the deck anymore. You love him but he’s just been so bratty recently, uninterested in anything. You aren’t sure how to entertain him and he just always, always wants to be with you and it’s getting exhausting, you’re so, so tired. So you rest in bed and pet his hair as he complains about wanting to go on adventure and be somewhere else.

Everyone else is irritable and tired, especially because of how hot it’s been recently and nobody likes to rot in the sun in the middle of the ocean. You know what happens with your best friends, where you see them so much that there isn’t much new to talk about? So you’re mostly quiet when you’re sketching with Nami, or reading with Robin, or fishing with Usopp. Or napping with Luffy.

It’s late in the evening but you’re taking a nap anyways, you’re feeling sort of depressed and lethargic and it’s all catching up to you at around 6 PM. You ask for Luffy to come cuddle you even though this is his time to beg Sanji for more food after dinner, the only time of the day he’s really been at his full energy. But he won’t turn you down so he squeezes your hand and pulls you into bed with him.

You lay down. You get under the blankets and take Luffy and tuck him against your chest like a stuffed animal. You can move him around however you want, he won’t mind. He huffs contentedly and quickly goes to sleep with his head between your breasts, clutching you around the waist, snoring loudly.

And even though your eyes hurt and your body’s sore and all you want is to let the rest of the evening slip by in dreams you can’t somehow. You just stay awake with this sweaty boy in your arms, squeezed too tight, and he isn’t a quiet sleeper even when you try to still him so he just squirms and murmurs against you and there’s nothing you can do.

You turn your attention to caring for him, just trying for some sort of comfort. You kiss his greasy hair and whisper little compliments, you massage his back, he loves your touch so much, smiling against you in his dreams. This makes you happy but you still feel sick in your heart, uncomfortable and tired and lonely. The room suddenly feels too hot, oppressive, you need to leave and go get some fresh air.

So, because you don’t want to wake him, you eventually ease a pillow into Luffy’s arms in the absence of your embrace. You slip out of bed, you need fresh air.

There’s a spot you’ve found, a support platform halfway up the tallest mast. You go here when you want to be alone. You’re rocked and the world tilts as the waves crash beneath you, climbing higher, higher. Your feet are bare against the rope ladder, thick knots digging into the soles of your feet. But now on this platform you can breathe. You can see every single star and galaxy from here, black purple blue, a glimmering ballroom of constellations that mirror the wine-dark sea. You are the world’s meridian.

Your body turns off, mind drifting away because you’ve always loved outer space. If you were floating a million light years away then everything would just disappear which sounds nice right now. You close your eyes. You are the universe.

But your body is shaken by the sudden rocking of the mast, you have to scurry to keep from falling as the wood creaks. The loud snap of elastic, a body slams next to you with a clumsy bounce and there he sits, legs spread, looking at you with huge, curious eyes.

“Hey Luffy,” you move close to him. You don’t want to be in the stars if you can’t take him with you.

“Whatcha doin’?” He's quiet, wistful. He looks a little hurt to have been left alone, he doesn’t understand.

“Just needed some air. It’s ok, you can stay,” you say even though he would’ve stayed anyway.

He takes your hand, tracing your fingers, off in his own little world. You feel sad and lonely again. This is your boyfriend, why can’t you talk to him? Tell him how you feel. It doesn’t matter if he doesn’t understand, really, he’ll just be there for you. But don’t make him worry, don’t make him upset. But no, tell him, you have to talk to him or you’ll cry right now. Right now.

“I’ve been sad,” you whisper to the ocean below.

“Hm?” Luffy’s arms wrap around you slowly. He presses his cheek to yours, searching your face, so confused. “How come?”

“I don’t know, it’s hard to explain. Sometimes I just get kinda depressed being on this ship for so long between islands, you know? Especially when everyone else is bored and tired, and when the weather’s bad. And we’re low on food, I’m sick of fish. I’m just getting frustrated all the time and I hate it.” Once you start to let it out you can’t stop. You wipe your face with your hands, sniffing.

He listens, not speaking, not moving except for those hands rubbing yours. And when you’re done he puts his chin on your shoulder. “Yeah, me too. I get what ya mean.” But soon his face is against yours again, so tender now. “Can I help make you feel better, though?”

You smile. You’re so glad you told him, he’s so sweet and good to you. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

“Hey, this’ll make ya happier! Nami told me we’re close to an island, the tide’s changing or somethin’!”

“Really? How long?” He’s right, you do feel happier.

“Mm, I dunno that part.” His chin’s back on your shoulder. “I’m sorry, I shoulda asked.”

“That’s ok.” You sigh, but you’re still smiling. “It’s enough to know we’re close.”

“Yeah, but you’re still not feelin’ well. An island in the future is no good if you’re feeling bad tonight, huh?”

“My body hurts… I’ve been sitting and resting too much, I think.” It’s true, your legs are sore and heavy. Bones have turned to stone in their hibernation.

“Yeah? Let’s take care of that.” His hands go to you, rubbing your thighs beneath the silk of your night dress, your waist, your shoulders. “Mm, hey, you wanna play? Would that make you happier and make yer body not hurt so much?” He’s murmuring into your ear, smiling with his teeth.

“What kinda play?”

“Sex? You wanna have sex? It’s been awhile.” Luffy licks his lips, mind racing. “I could… eat ya? Y’know, that thing we do sometimes? Where I-”

“Please,” you say so quickly. Maybe this is therapy you crave. Release all this time before you start anew, release it for him to devour.

He laughs loudly, sitting back against the mast. “Heh, ok, lie down and lemme hold you. I got you, love.” His eyes twinkle.

You face him, you get on your back on the wood, head turned away toward the endless stretch of night and sea. And Luffy wraps his arms around your thighs, propping your legs up, spread for him, you feel him nuzzle your thigh and huff against you as he returns to this scent he loves.

You both breathe as one in a long, deep rhythm as his nose presses against you there, right there. Soft moist warmth for Luffy, damp lacy fabric perfect to chew and taste. Teeth gnaw on you through your panties, dull but hungry. You pulse there with every swallow against nothing, nerves lighting you up down to your toes.

“You’re teasing me…” you whine, reminding him of where he is.

“Heh, sorry.” But he’s lost in you, he’s not in any hurry. Until, of course, his tongue catches the arousal that drips out of you and that’s where he needs to go, he decides.

So he casually rips away your panties and smiles at what’s his. You’re at the center of his world and this is how he’ll feast on the meridian.

He quickly bites your clit, not hard but enough to make your whole body twitch. He’s so good at doing what you’ve taught him. And god he does look stunning from here, he pushes his hat back and shiny, jet-black hair tickles your inner thighs. You run your hand through it and tug, curling your body up to stroke his cheek and now you’ve got his attention, you just wanted to see those big, chocolate eyes.

It’s with care that he dips his tongue lower, slowly lapping at you as you get wetter for him, he’s getting loud now as he usually does and the vibrations from his moaning makes you tremble in his arms. And when you tremble, he squeezes you tighter. Warm arms, so different from the sky.

Closer, closer, it’s almost painful it’s so deep and perfect. Your hips move on instinct, riding his tongue, pulling you into this vortex, deep and deeper it comes in waves. The ship rocks and you sway together.

He buzzes against you with a shiver and a sound of joy when your orgasm hits deep. You moan and reach for him immediately and he looks up at you, mouth soaked, he asks, “ya done? Feel better?” smile unbroken.

“Mhm, a lot better.” And he’s in your arms now. You cuddle on that little wooden platform beneath the moon. The heartache and soreness and exhaustion is all new and perfect now. So much better.

“Hey thanks for cheering me up. You felt so good, Lu.” Your voice is a quiet whisper on the wind as you stroke his hair, his muscles twitch around you with the remnants of that powerful joy.

“Heh, tasted good. Glad you’re ok. This mean you’ll come back and sleep with me now?” He’s tilting his head like a little puppy, your scent warm on his breath.

“Yeah. But I wanna watch the stars for a little longer.” You lay against him. You’re sitting, now, interlocked and inseparable. You drip down there from him, so warm against the wood, nerves still on fire. And those stars up there are all suns, you know. They’re all on fire too. You’re amazed at how alight the night is. And this wind from the east, I guess this is what it means to be close to land. Those clouds, maybe that’s what they mean too, shot with colors from no direction, full and aimless.

Luffy is content with you. He’s ok with you watching the sky. All he says is, “that’s alright. Long as I can stay here and hold ya.”

[moonlit-imagines]

Lovesick

Wally West x reader

warnings: depression, angst teehee

a/n:

prompt: anon 🦊: “I’d like to request the song Lovesick by Laufey for Wally West and romantic relationship.”//Lovesick - Laufey

Ever since Wally…left, you’d felt like you were stuck in a neverending loop. Couldn’t get out of bed in the morning, barely able to keep yourself fed, sleeping all day, numbing your mind with stupid TV shows and movies that distracted you from the reality that Wally was gone.

When you stewed in bed, all you could see was his face. His cocky smile and a voice like honey telling you everything was going to be fine, but it never did. Even after all these months you’d still wake believing he was right beside you and ready to drive you crazy all morning.

Wally was a lot of things, but you never took him as a martyr. Maybe that’s why it felt so unreal—because you stopped seeing him as Kid Flash and started seeing him as your future husband. Now you had nothing. Just an empty apartment covered in trash, you hadn’t cooked in weeks, you hadn’t left in days nor had you showered and the Team was worried sick over you.

Dick, Artemis, Kaldur, Conner, and M’gaan showed up together one day, unannounced, and let themselves right in. You were asleep on the couch with the TV loudly playing some stupid show from the nineties. “Wow, it really stinks in here.” Dick said, wandering through the house.

“I’m gonna get y/n into the shower.” Artemis told the Team, shaking you awake gently. “Y/N, it’s me. The whole Team is here, isn’t that nice?” She saw your eyelids twitch, knowing you were pretending to be asleep. “Come on, let’s get you to the bathroom. No more rotting on the couch, we’re gonna be productive today.”

“What time is it?” You asked.

“It’s nine in the morning. Perfect time to shower and get dressed.” She pulled you from the indented couch cushions and you greeted the rest of the Team as you were pushed into the bathroom, where piles of dirty clothes were stacked. She turned the water on and let it run a bit, letting you know when it was warm enough for you. Before she left the bathroom, you stopped her.

“Can you stay in here with me?” You asked, desperately needing the company in such a mundane task. She agreed, closing her eyes while you undressed and climbed into the shower. It was then that she asked you how you were feeling and you broke down into tears.

“I don’t think I can live without him.” You sobbed into your hands. “My heart feels like it’s being ripped out of my chest every time I’m reminded of him. I’m angry at him for sacrificing himself—and I know we’d all be dead without it but I can’t help but be angry…” You spoke so loud the rest of the Team could hear as they cleaned your apartment. “I just can’t even go outside without being reminded by little things. He went on walks with me at the park. He picked flowers on his way home from class. He took me to lunch every Sunday. And now I have nothing!” Artemis silently broke into tears with you, trying to find a way to help you but she just didn’t know what to do.

“I…I don’t want you to be alone after today.” She replied. “Will you stay with me for a while? I could use the company.” The offer made you cry a bit more. “We should have come here sooner.”

“It’s okay.” You sniffled. “I know you guys were hurting, too.” You turned the shower off and grabbed the nearest towel, opening the bathroom door to see your friends cleaning your home, taking out the trash, doing the dishes, loading the washing machine, opening the blinds—everything they can to get you back. And for a moment, you thought you caught a glimpse of Wally in the shuffle. “I think you’re right, Artemis. I can’t hide from the world. It’s not what Wally would want for me.” You walked into your room and tried to find some clean clothes in the back of your closet while Artemis talked to the Team.

And in the back of your closet you found a picture of Wally laid on the floor. “You hear that Wally? It’s time to move on and move out.” You told the still image of his smiling brightly with the blinding sun in his eyes. “I’ll be okay. I think. I’d be better with you, but I can’t have you anymore. I’m sick to my stomach with grief, but I’ll love you forever.”

taglist: @summersimmerus // @azazel-nyx // @ravenstrueluv // @captainshazamerica // @deanzboyfriend // @mr-mxyzptlk-1940 //

[rainychaoloveshack]

ﾟ ⋆ ﾟ ☂︎ ⋆ ﾟ 𝐔𝐩 𝐋𝐚𝐭𝐞. 𝐒𝐢𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐝𝐠𝐞𝐡𝐨𝐠.

staying up late with silver, watching a movie.

content. silver x gn!reader, reader is mentioned to be a night owl (staying up late often), tooth-rotting fluff, very light angst

☂︎ wc. 950 ☂︎ a/n. third post silver, then scourge! bing bam boom. PROBABLY VERY OOC! not proud of this one, i gotta study silver more :(

likes, reblogs, and especially comments are extremely appreciated!!!

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┊    ┊       ⋆˚              

✧. ┊         

⋆｡˚ 🌨 ˚｡⋆｡🌩˚☽˚｡⋆ 

☂︎

The exhaustion is hitting him, you can tell. The way his eyes are drooping, trying to focus on the movie in front of you two. You nudge him, making sure he doesn’t fall asleep yet; the movie’s just getting good.

“Huh?” Silver turns to you, tilting his head and blinking rapidly, trying to wake himself up for you. “No, I’m fine. Fine.” He mumbles, leaning back and rubbing his quills downward; a grooming motion you’ve seen before with other hedgehogs, mainly Shadow.

You ended up getting lucky today. Silver had opened a portal to this dimension to come and take a visit to Sonic and his friends, but afterwards, Silver decided to pay you a visit, right in your cozy abode. Lucky, lucky you.

… Ah. Maybe there's a sort of time dimension jet lag hitting him?

“Dimension jet-lag?” Silver giggles at your joke, right ear flicking in your direction at the sound of your laughter. “No, silly! I just don’t stay up as late as you. I wish I could,” He frowns, leaning against your shoulder. “You make it look cool. All… ‘night-owly’ every night.” Night-owly?

Both you and Silver end up cracking up like idiots at the absurdity of both your words, bodies trembling slightly with laughter as the movie tunes out between you two, all of your attention just focused on each other.

He’s not wrong. It’s so usual for you to stay up past midnight, and you almost don’t notice when you do it nowadays. It’s so ingrained in your daily schedule, even with your attempts to head to bed earlier. The sleep debt must be terrible.

“Don’t worry, I’ll stay awake; I promise.” He reassures you, leaning against your shoulder, fidgeting with his gloves briefly as you watch him with interest. His statement isn’t very convincing, since he follows it with a small yawn, squeezing his eyes shut, and as soon as he opens them, he locks eyes with you sheepishly.

“Uh…” He chuckles a bit afterwards, his ear twitching in embarrassment. “Well, I’ll try.” He pauses, parting his lips to say something else, yet nothing comes out for a few moments.

“Sorry.” Silver murmurs, still fidgeting with his gloves as he looks down at his hands, and you tilt your head curiously. What? Before you can ask, he continues.

“For not visiting you so often. I-I really want to, don’t get me wrong!” He looks back up at you in a panic. “But…” Silver lets out a small, exasperated whine, his ears tilting down. “My world; it still needs me. And the others need me too.”

You frown, reaching cover to give Silver an affectionate scratch behind his ear in an attempt to lighten the mood quickly, causing it to flick towards you, followed by small bits of chuckling from him as his body relaxes. He says nothing else but leans towards your touch happily, brushing his shoulder against you as he snuggles his ear into your hand, enjoying the little scritches you’re giving him.

“Thanks.” Silver says softly as you retract your hand, locking eyes with you again. “Uh, you don’t mind if I stay the night, right?” He pauses, almost bashful as he asks, and you nod eagerly to his question.

Duh. It’s not like you would kick him out at this hour anyway. Why would you anyway?

“Maybe we could go see the chao tomorrow.” He mutters, resting his head against your shoulder. “Or fix up my garden. Ah, we could do that! Yeah,” A small smile spreads on his face. “That’d be really nice to do with you…”

You pull him in closer, pushing him by his hip, and in response he scoots on over to you, pressing against your leg. A stupid grin spreads on your face as you yank him into a tight cuddle. He gasps softly at the sudden action, followed by laughing briefly as he pats your back.

“Ah, come on, you could’ve just said so…” 

Without saying a word, you slowly lay down on the couch, stretching your legs for a moment as Silver lays down on top of you, trying his best not to hurt you as he lays his head onto your chest, relaxing his body once he realizes none of his quills have pricked you in any way.

Damn, he’s really, really warm. It feels good as hell…

“You have a nice heartbeat.” He says softly, his ear tilting to press against your chest more, following the rhythm of your heart. “[Name]... Gosh,” Silver chuckles, placing his hand on your shoulder as he snuggles closer. “I really like your heart…”

You both lay in silence together, the only noise coming from the long-forgotten movie playing in the back, along with the soft breathing from Silver. You run your hand gently over his quills, feeling every individual one, and the small tiny pricks from the tips of each.

You say his name, expecting him to respond, but he just keeps his head down and doesn’t respond in the slightest.

Silver?

… Silver?

Oh. He’s asleep. 

You click your tongue softly, looking down at his sleeping form on your body, feeling his soft, furry chest rise and fall against your stomach as you pet his quills slowly. Despite you telling him and everything, he just falls asleep so quickly?

… No matter. You crane your neck forward, pressing a soft kiss on the top of his head, and Silver seems to react favorably, his ear twitching at the sudden foreign sensation despite his slumber, his quiet breathing flowing against your chest.

Oh, right.

It looks like you’ll be finishing the movie alone tonight.

[mediumgayitalian]

“Oh, gods.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Oh, gods.”

Nico scowls, wrenching just eyes away from Will’s poorly-covered grin and shaking shoulders.

It’s not that bad. It isn’t.

Sure, the complete lack of lighting except Greek fire torches makes the cabin look like a little piece of the Underworld, right here on the surface. But that’s comforting. Honestly. Nico knows the Underworld. It’s — familiar.

And, yeah. It would, probably, be pertinent to have some furniture, or something. At least somewhere for him to store his clothes, because he has more than one set of those now, and maybe a shelf, or something. And, admittedly, the obsidian altar could take up a little less space than it currently does.

But it’s not that bad.

“Are those. Coffin shaped beds.”

The tone of Will’s voice is unlike he’s ever heard it. He turns back to face him, slowly, and finds him biting his fist, hard, every muscle of his body tense as live wire.

“I was twelve godsdamn years old,” Nico snaps. “Forgive me if interior design wasn’t my passion.”

Solace loses it.

In his defense, not that Nico is too worried about defending him, he does appear to try very hard to not lose it. When the first giggle slips out of his lips, he clamps his jaw shut tighter. When his whole body begins to shake with the force of repressing his laughter, he curls inward, as if making himself smaller might reduce the chance of a lapse in control.

But then he glances back inside and looks, really looks, at the dreary, stone walls, the lone skeletons standing guard, and the plush, teakwood black coffin bunk beds, and he collapses to the floor.

“I’m going to open a chasm beneath you,” Nico threatens. “You are going to fall and crack your spine into a million pieces on the bank of the Styx, rotting there with every other forgotten hope.”

“You are a Black Parade lyric personified,” Will wheezes.

Nico doesn’t know what that means, so he kicks him. Unfortunately, he only laughs harder.

“I mean it, Solace. It’s a long way down to the Underworld. You will spend the entire fall petrified with the knowledge that nothing can save you.”

For added effect, Nico makes the floor under the medic’s body shake, makes the tip of a skeleton hand peek out from the earth.

Ironically, this stops Will’s laughter, but not for the reason Nico was aiming for.

“Hey!” A bright blue flipflop-clad foot darts out and collides With Nico’s ankle, sending him sprawling. “I said no spooky magic for the next two months! Put that skeleton away!”

“Fuck off, Solace! It’s barely half a bone! You are so annoying!”

“That’s my specialty.” Will pushes himself upright. He waits until Nico sits up, too, so he can catch his eye before his face splits into a dazzling grin. Actual sparkles seem to flicker beside his face. “And you are ever so easy to annoy.”

Nico stares, unimpressed.

“Anyways.” Will coughs. “You can’t stay here, Neeks —”

“Don’t call me that.”

“— it’s straight-up too depressing.” He peers inside. “It’s also cold, and, like…borderline unliveable? So. As your doctor, I can’t allow it.”

“You’re a medic,” Nico says, raising an eyebrow, “first of all, not a doctor. Second of all, you can’t tell me what to do. Third of all — where am I supposed to sleep? The woods?”

“Hm. Good question.”

Will gets to his feet, brushing the dirt off his shorts and offering Nico a hand. After a second of hesitation, he takes it, allowing Will to haul him up.

“C’mon!”

Nico snatches his hand away, face burning. (Gods. Why does Will have to be so…touchy-feely? And why does it always do weird things to Nico’s stomach?) But it hardly takes a look over Will’s shoulder before Nico’s feet are following after him, without his permission.

“Where are we going?”

“Well, my dad’s kind of a hoe,” Will says matter-of-factly. Nico chokes. Will’s grin widens. “And our cabin was built with that in mind. I know we’ve got an extra bunk or two for ya. Hurry up!”

This…cannot be allowed. Nico doesn’t have a ton of Camp Half-Blood experience, or anything, but as far as he knows, Hermes is the only cabin that can really do that. He doesn’t want to incur the wrath of Apollo, or whatever, by staying in his cabin uninvited.

Well. Will’s inviting him, technically. And there’s a confidence to his offer, like maybe this isn’t the first time he’s done it.

“What if I don’t want to live in your stupid sunshine-y cabin,” Nico grumbles, trying to cover up his nerves. “Holding hands and singing about how much I love being alive isn’t really my cup of tea.”

Will snorts. “Oh, di Angelo,” he says dramatically, shaking his head, “you are in for a world of discovery. Welcome to the Cabin Apollo. Take your shoes off at the door and remember that Kayla bites.”

———

Living in the Apollo cabin is strange.

Four days in, and Nico is only just starting to get used to it. He’s not entirely unused to sharing space with people — he’s had two sisters — but the Apollo kids argue like they enjoy doing it. One minute, Will and Kayla will be screaming at each other at the top of their lungs about touching each other’s shit, then they’re teaming up to pull Gracie off Yan’s face for the exact same argument, only now they offer sage advice on respecting boundaries and compromising. It’s bizarre.

(Austin is pretty chill, actually. Nico has noticed him starting quite a few fights — it was he, in fact, who moved Will’s shit and then gracefully framed Kayla — but he has a very powerful eyebrow raise and a very powerful image as Unproblematic. He has quickly become Nico’s favourite.)

He’s only just barely beginning to understand how they work together, and the struggle comes in because everything is so chaotic. When Nico spent time with Hazel in New Rome, she was in the barracks. He never really had to worry about squabbling over counter space in the bathroom with her, because she had her own little toiletry caddie like everyone else, and bathrooms were public. With Bianca — well. There’s no one alive who knows this about her, but she was bossy. She was sweet and wonderful and self-sacrificing and brave and kind and the centre of Nico’s life, but by the gods, did she take her authority as a big sister seriously. She ordered Nico around all the time. He never had to worry much about when he would have the chance to use the bathroom they shared at the Lotus, or who got the T.V. remote, or who go to sit on the bus instead of standing, because he was not the one deciding. He could stick his tongue out and whine all he wanted, but she was boss. He knew that.

The Apollo kids are not like that.

As well as Nico can figure, it’s kind of a free-for-all. You want first shower? Either wake up the earliest — a strategy only Will every manages to employ with any success — or manage to jab an elbow in someone’s rib and sprint. You want whoever’s humming to shut the hell up so you can sleep? Make sure your threats are quick and believable, or just straight up start throwing shit until they finally stop. You want the coveted middle of the bench spot at breakfast? Well, tough shit on that one, actually. Nico has yet to make that one happen for himself.

He won’t admit it, but he has kind of learned to enjoy it. It’s annoying, and the Apollo siblings do indeed sing at all hours of the day (although the content usually skews more towards diss tracks and delighted insults, if not straight-up curses), and it is so godsdamn bright in there, seriously, is it a gimmick or what, but there’s something to be said about the fact that he’s so surrounded by people and chaos that he hasn’t even had the chance to feel lonely. Not even at night, panting to himself after a nasty nightmare, because all it takes is a particularly loud snore from Will one bunk down to remember where he is. To remember that he’s safe — by demigod standards, at least.

But, still.

He kind of misses his privacy.

“Will,” he whispers urgently, on his fifteenth day of rooming with the Apollo weirdos.

The medic hums noncommittally, attention very focused on the test tube in front of him. Nico has been fighting the urge to try and launch a piece of dust inside it for forty minutes, just to make him explode.

“I need to talk to you.”

“Sounds good, Nico.”

Nico narrows his eyes. “You’re ignoring me.”

“Uh-huh. Agreed.”

“I can say anything I want right now.”

“Sure. Maybe double check with Austin.”

“…I’m going to put a colony of ants in your pillowcase.”

“Good idea.”

“Then I’m going to douse your hair products in gasoline and set them aflame.”

“Baller.”

“After that I’m gonna read your super secret diary to the entirety of camp at singalong tonight.”

“You betcha.”

“And then I’m going to shadow travel to Russia.”

Will blinks, frowning. “Hey, no shadow-travelling. What’s this I hear about shadow-travelling?”

Nico rolls his eyes. “Nothing, stupid. You were just ignoring me.”

Will smiles guiltily. “Aw, I’m sorry, Neeks. Got focused on this. I’m finished in twenty, then I’m all yours?”

“…Don’t call me Neeks,” Nico grumbles, furious with himself for how quick he’s relented under wide blue puppy-dog eyes.

“Sorry, Neeks.”

Huffing at Will’s quiet laughter, Nico slides off the nurse’s station counter and wanders around the empty infirmary. Things have luckily finally cooled down in here, nearly three weeks after the end of the Giant War. Some of the exhaustion has faded from Will’s features now that he’s had time to sleep properly.

Not that Nico has noticed, or anything.

“Okay,” Will says a few minutes later, holding his hands up protectively in front of his geeky little setup. “I just gotta do this last step, so long as I calculated it right, it should be fine…” He squeezes a drop of something into the liquid bubbling over the burner, freezing immediately. One, two, three seconds pass and nothing happens, so Will relaxes, sighing in relief and turning to face Nico fully. “Okay, we’re good. What was it you wanted to —”

The text tube contents explode in his face, dousing him in slimey green goo.

Nico bursts out laughing.

“Great,” Will says darkly, swiping the stuff from his eyes. “The one day I don’t wear goggles. Great.”

Nico gasps, sides aching. “Oh my gods —”

“Feel free to help, di Angelo.”

“— you look like a cartoon! Your face!”

It takes Will twelve cloths and seven whole minutes to clean himself and the nurse’s station off of the goo. Nico cackles at him the whole time, and tastefully does not mention the many globs of goo that remain caked in his hair.

“Whenever you’re done.”

Will is very, very bad at being stern when he doesn’t really mean it. And he doesn’t really mean it now, because every time he tries to glare at Nico, his mouth twitches.

“I’m good,” Nico finally wheezes, forcing his face back to normal. “I’m good, I’m good.”

He very pointedly does not look at Will’s hair.

“Dick,” Will huffs, fondness bleeding into his tone. “What did you want?”

He must notice the change in tone at his asking, because he clears the bench fully, hoisting himself on top of it and patting the spot next to him. Nico hesitates for half a second, then crawls up, sitting criss cross applesauce, knees touching.

“I need to move back to my cabin,” he manages, finally.

Will’s face betrays no judgement or emotion. “Oh?”

“Yes.” He picks at a loose thread in his jeans. “I need — space.”

The thread loosens, allowing Nico to tug on it. A hole begins to unravel along the seam as he pulls and pulls and pulls. He stops himself before it gets too wide, tearing the thread off and winding it around his fingers.

“I can tell everyone to tone it down,” Will offers softly, eyebrows creased. “We’ll be more quiet, we’ll —”

Nico places a hand on his knee, cutting off his sentence. “It’s not about that, I promise. You guys have been great.”

A wounded look still pulls at Will’s strong features, as much as he visibly tries to pull his face back to something more supportive. “It’s not?”

“No, no. It’s just —” He frowns, trying to articulate the tangled mess of his thoughts. “I have my own cabin.”

“So?”

“And I can’t stay in yours forever.”

“I mean, you could.”

“Chiron’s been giving me looks, Will.”

“So what! I’ll — write you a doctor’s note, or something!”

Nico snorts. “A doctor’s note letting me sleep in your cabin?”

Will nods fervently, although he seems to acknowledge the ridiculousness of his suggestion, if the grin on his face is any indication. “Yes! For medical reasons, you know.” He mimes writing. “‘Patient’s cabin is dank and sad. To avoid bouts of misery, patient must sleep in the presence of the coolest and best and prettiest and most uplifting people in camp.’”

“Hm. Not sure Chiron’s gonna buy that last part. Not sure I buy that last part, actually.”

“Hey.”

Nico dodges Will’s shove, chuckling.

“Seriously, though, Will. This was never a long term solution, right?”

“I know. You’re cabin just — sucks so bad, man. No offense.”

“I take great offense to that, actually. My cabin is art.”

“Sure, Eddie Cullen.”

“I don’t know who that is, so that’s a horrible insult.”

“Travesty, honestly.”

Outside the open infirmary windows, Nico can hear distant, triumphant screaming, laughter, and the clang of metal. Today’s a good day. The weather’s balmier than usual, for late August, and some of the gloom that’s hung over everyone’s head for the bast few weeks seems to have lifted.

“You can’t go back to your cabin like it is,” Will says into the silence, startling Nico, “but —” he grins when Nico begins to protest, holding up his hand. “We can definitely change it up.”

He slides off the bench, botching his landing and almost sprawling on the floor. He holds a dramatic hand out to Nico when he rights himself. Nico ignores it, rolling his eyes and getting to his feet by himself.

“C’mon,” Will says, grabbing his hand anyway. Sparks shoot up Nico’s arm. “We need to go ask Chiron for the van keys and approximately five hundred dollars.”

———

Three hours is too fucking long to be in a vehicle. Especially when Will is driving, because all he does is play nonstop country music and let everybody cut in front of him.

“I’m driving us back,” Nico informs him as they (finally) get out of the stupid van, snatching the keys from his hands.

Will shrugs. “Sure.”

Nico had expected more of a fight, honestly. But he supposes neither of them are legally allowed to drive, age-wise, and besides, Nico technically has seventy years of driving experience on Will.

(…The Lotus had a racetrack.

Nico was very, very good at it.)

“What is this place, anyway?”

“This place,” Will says grandly, throwing an arm over his shoulders, “is essentially the mortal version of the Labyrinth, minus, you know, the soul-sucking terror.”

“Okay. All that’s telling me is that you have horrible ideas and we should leave immediately.”

Will rolls his eyes. “It’s a furniture store.”

“Well, then —” he punches Will’s shoulder, huffing when he only laughs. “Say that, then!”

“But then what would I do with all the drama in my heart?”

“Choke on it, hopefully!”

Ikea is weird.

Since Will did not tell him what the plan was, he didn’t draw up any plans. Luckily, Will has the dimensions of his cabin — although where he got them, Nico does not ask — so they spend an hour or so in the cafe drawing out a plan.

“You need more than two beds, Neeks.”

“Uh, no I don’t. Unless my father has something very important to announce to me, I need a bed for me, and a bed for Hazel.”

“What if I want to sleep over?”

“You can sleep on the porch.”

Mostly, they wander around the sets. Nico isn’t really sure what he wants his cabin to look like — he has to remind himself that yes, actually, he cares about the space he’ll be spending at least the next three years of his life in. It’s a startling reality, to have control over his own space. He must’ve had some say in his childhood bedroom, but he has no memory of it. He spent the most time in his and Bianca’s room at the Lotus, but that was already furnished when they got there, and besides, it only felt like they were there for less than a year. It always felt like a hotel room, never his room. Westminster was no different. His room in his father’s palace had already been designed, too. In fact he’d based his cabin on it.

What does Nico want his bedroom to look like, without someone else deciding for him?

“I’m not getting a fucking Lightning McQueen bed, Solace.”

“But it would be so sick! And look — it’s got little cubbies!”

“I’m going to ditch you, and shadow travel back to camp,” Nico threatens. “And I have the van keys, so you’ll be stuck here for real.”

“Hey, hey, hey.” Will looks at him sternly, hands on hips. “No shadow travelling for you, Death Breath. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t fade into nothing on my watch.”

“I’m joking,” Nico says, exasperated, but cannot deny the warmth that fills him up at Will’s concern.

In the end, he decides on a pretty normal bed. It’s bigger than Will’s bunk (“Or anyone else’s bed,” Will grumbles, “you lucky asshole.”), but not ridiculously designed. He picks a similar size for Hazel, only the frame is white, not black, and the bedspread that comes with it is a soft, coral pink that he knows she will like.

“Wanna see if they’ve got a Mythomagic bedspread for yours?” Will teases.

That would be the coolest thing ever in the entire world, Nico thinks, and is so embarrassed that he shoves Will, shrieking, into a giant basket of pillows for making him think it.

“Obviously I don’t want that.”

“You are such a turd! I’ll get you, di Angelo!”

He does not. Nico is way too sneaky for him, and after the fifth time Nico manages to give him the slip, he gives up, sulking in a display for a bedroom of a nine year old girl.

“Fitting,” Nico teases, gesturing to the princess wallpaper. “You drama queen.”

“Buzz off.”

Next, they look for furniture. It’s pretty easy — Nico doesn’t need much, and he’s not too concern with cut or style or anything. He quickly picks out two dressers, one to match Hazel’s bed frame, and one to match his, and then a couple bookshelves.

Four hours into their trip, Nico is exhausted. They have a three hour drive ahead of them, they’ve been out all day, and he wants to go home.

But Will stops him before they go get all the boxes for their furniture.

“This is still pretty bare bones,” he says quietly, then grins at his own accidental pun. Nico shoots him a venomous look, warning him against making it more obvious, and for once he actually listens. “You know, we’re still under budget. We’ve got around $200 left — we can get a motel, stay the night, then we don’t have to drive back right away. And tomorrow, maybe we can check out some other stores, look for smaller decorations and stuff. And if we don’t have to drive back tonight, we’ve maybe got another hour in here, if you wanted to get a couple more pieces.”

Nico opens his mouth to refuse — that’s way too much effort to spend on one person’s cabin, c’mon — then pauses, thinking about it.

Chiron hadn’t even thought about it before handing them the money. Will had barely gotten the words out before he’d started counting out the bills.

“I want you to make a home here,” the centaur had said, touching his hand. There was a pain in his kind eyes, stopping any protests. “I made a mistake, Nico, the first time you came here. In another life, you felt welcome enough to stay the whole time. Take what you need.”

What does he need? What does home look like, to him?

“There was a beanbag chair, in our room at the Lotus,” he says, pushing the words past the lump in his throat. “Me and Bianca used to fight over it.” His voice shakes. A tear gathers at the corner of his eye, and he blinks it back. “It wasn’t real fighting. When I called mercy she’d — scoop me up and throw me on it and squish in after me, and we’d sit together and play video games. Or read. She liked to read.”

Will squeezes his trembling hands. “We can get a beanbag chair.”

“And I — don’t like the blackout curtains. The dark makes me think of — the pit.”

“Okay. They sell lotsa lamps here, too. Might be nicer than the Greek fire.”

Nico nods. There’s — more, far more ideas, now, flooding his brain; Hazel crowding over him on a rug-covered floor, shrieking as he teases her about Frank; a desk tucked in the corner where Will sits, mouthing along to his textbooks as Nico sharpens his sword; Jason running his fingers along rows of books on a big, cluttered shelf; Reyna with her fist curled around her mouth, studying a chess board across from him, hair shining under the natural light from the window.

He can have that. He can have that.

Thankfully, all their stuff fits in the back of the van. Despite his insistence earlier, Nico hands Will the keys, and he drives around until he finds a shitty motel with a vacancy sign flashing out front. He pulls into the farthest corner of the parking lot, killing the engine, then waits.

“You okay?”

Nico shrugs. “I’m…not sure.”

“That’s okay,” Will assures, pressing a fleeting touch to his shoulder. Nico grabs his wrist before he moves away, tugging down his hand and linking their fingers together.

For once, it doesn’t make him feel all sparky. The warmth of Will’s hands is grounding, and so is the gentle squeeze, the smile he feels pointed in his direction.

“C’mon. Let’s check in and sleep, huh?”

Nico’s exhaustion compounds in the walk from the car to the lobby, so by the time Will is speaking quietly to the host, he’s half asleep, leaning on Will’s shoulder. He vaguely feels it when Will shifts his weight, sliding a hand around his waist to hold him better. He blinks and they’re standing in front of a door.

“Almost there, Death Boy,” he murmurs. “Hold on a sec.”

It takes him six separate tries to make the keycard work. He gets huffy when Nico snickers tiredly at him.

“Finally, yeesh.”

He guides Nico in, dropping the backpack he brought somewhere near the door. As soon as the bed is within Nico’s sights, he makes a beeline, barely remembering to shuck his shoes and jacket.

“Please do not sleep in your jeans.”

“Mmmfuck off,” Nico groans, already sliding under the covers. He’ll regret it in the morning, but whatever.

“Goober.” Callused hands brush through his hair, resting lightly on his forehead. “Goodnight, Nico.”

Nico’s out before he can even think to respond.

———

He wakes up, in the middle of the night, scream caught in his throat and heart pounding in his ears. The air smells like smoke and fear. The rushing of the Phlegethon is so loud it’s overpowering.

A loud snore knocks him back to reality.

Crawling desperately towards the source of the sound, he hangs over the bed, eyes adjusting rapidly to the dark to see a curled lump on the floor, head resting on his own hands. A quick glance behind him confirms the other half of the bed has been left untouched.

“Stupid,” he mumbles, tiny smile chasing away the last of his fear.

He tugs the blankets off the mattress, pulls off the two pillows, and joins his dumbass, selfless friend on the floor.

———

“Question,” Will asks, swallowing the last of their disgustingly delicious greasefest of a breakfast. “Were you alive when Walmart was invented?”

“I was alive before your great grandmother was.”

“No, I mean — were you out and kickin’. Have you strolled the endless aisles of corporate soullessness, basking in the wonder of American overconsumerism?”

“…You’re such a weird, particular person.”

Will looks delighted. “You’re a Walmart newbie!”

He pulls into the dead, cracked parking lot way too happily for this hour in the morning. Nico would even say he takes the nearest exit to get to the store gleefully. He is embarrassed for him.

Walmart is…underwhelming.

As stupid as it is, Will had hyped it up so much that Nico was almost a little excited. It just looked like any other basic superstore. Will, for whatever reason, seemed delighted by that fact.

“I do not like this store,” he explained when Nico asked, expression not matching his words, “it just means so very much to me that you are joining me in the misery of having experienced it.”

They spend more time than they mean to just dicking around. At one point they nearly get thrown out by management, because Will finds a pair of NERF guns that some child dug out of its packaging and no words need to be spoken. They gear up and scamper off, hunting each other through fluorescent-lights hell.

“Please just get your shit and leave,” says the very tired looking manager, and they have the good gall to at least appear embarrassed as they mumble, “Yes, ma’am.”

It doesn’t take long when they have their head on straight. They get some fairy lights, a couple cool posters, dorky little trinkets that Nico probably doesn’t need, per se, but what was he supposed to do, leave the little plastic crow skeleton behind?

Unlikely.

With his own money, Will buys several cans of paint and a CD. He explains neither of these purchases. The look on his face gets steadily more infuriating as they make their way through the line, and Nico really, truly considers leaving him behind.

The purchase of the CD becomes very obvious very quickly. Even though Nico is driving, and therefore Nico should get music control, Will pouts and pleads until Nico gives in and lets him play his stupid country album. He justifies his decision in his own brain by noticing the radiance of Will’s smile as he belts out the words, badly, at the top of his lungs. He then spends the rest of the drive back to camp convincing himself not to be embarrassed for having said thoughts.

They get back to camp about lunch time, and Will destroys any attempt for a subtle reentry by whistling the second they cross the property line.

“Austin! Kayla!” he hollers, making Nico jump. “Come help us unload!”

“We coulda done it ourselves,” Nico grumbles.

Will pats his head condescendingly. “It has been twenty-four long, long hours since I’ve bosses my siblings around, Neeks. I need this.”

It does go by quite a bit quicker with Austin and Kayla’s help. Lou Ellen, Cecil, Yan, and Gracie come to help, too, but Gracie’s too little to carry much more than a small desk lamp. Instead, they lay down the biggest box — Nico’s bed frame — and let her climb on top of it, carrying her like she’s a queen atop a throne back to Nico’s cabin. She has the time of her life, giggling to herself like a madwoman.

By the time everything’s unloaded, a couple hours have passed, and the Hades cabin looks like a clusterfuck.

“Maybe you stay in Apollo a couple more nights,” Will suggests.

“Might have to,” Nico agrees. Will looks inordinately pleased with himself.

All in all, it takes about two days to disassemble the old furniture, get rid of it, and start putting together the new stuff. Will helps for most of it, but he has a few shifts in the infirmary, so Nico ends up trying to do a fair bit on his own.

“May the wrath of Zeus come down upon this fucking piece of shit, no good, poorly designed garbage-looking idiotic mother fuc —”

“Maybe time for a break from furniture assembling?” suggests a voice, accompanied by a quick knock in the open door. Will leans on the doorframe, grinning, box propped up on his hip.

“Will, thank the gods,” Nico sighs, relieved. He angrily shakes a tool in his direction. “Allen wrenches are fucking useless. I’m three seconds away from throwing this through the window.”

“Definitely time for a switch, then.”

Will’s smile is wide and crinkles his eyes. He’s got dimples, too, Nico is now noticing, and then very rapidly un-noticing then because gods above that is a dangerous path.

“Did you and Rachel get into another prank war?” he asks, praying the flush on his cheeks goes away.

Will glances down at his paint-spattered clothes. “Nah, this is just my painting outfit. Why ruin more than one set of clothes, you know?” He sets down the box in the middle of the room, then heads for the half-built furniture sprawled all throughout the cabin, tugging it all towards the middle. Nico inches towards the box, curious, and finds it full of dozens of paint cans and brushes, including the ones he got at Walmart.

“I didn’t know you painted.”

He flashes another grin in Nico’s direction. This one has a little mischief to it, a little teasing. His stomach swoops.

“Gotta have at least one artistic talent or my dad would disown me. Help me tape down this tarp, will you?”

It takes them twenty minutes to prep the room, protecting the floor and the furniture. Once everything is ready, Will jogs over to the CD player he gave Nico a few days ago, flicking through the stack of CDs and choosing one at random. Soft opera music begins to float around the cabin.

“Okay,” he begins, clapping his hands, “first we need a base coat. Get the white paint and the rollers.”

It takes them the rest of the day, painting until dinner, then waiting past sunset for it to dry. Nico follows Will back to his cabin that night — he wouldn’t let him sleep around the paint fumes — and the two of them return the next morning, re-donning their paint-spattered clothes. Will braids his hair, this time, tucking the little pigtails behind a kerchief. It makes Nico smile every time he looks at him.

As much as he’s in painting clothes, Nico doesn’t really do much of the painting. He stays in the centre of the room, half assembling furniture, half watching Will bring his walls to life with more colours than he’s ever seen in one place.

Will doesn’t ask what Nico wants him to paint in his murals. Instead, Nico watches as the streets of Venice begin to unfold on one of the walls, bright and blue and exactly as he remembers, even though he knows for a fact Will has never been. The shining fruit of his stepmother’s garden is next, with a notable absence of the pomegranate tree, and then the hills of New Rome, the sunflower field in rural New York Nico used to visit, the Chinese mountainscape from the first big shadow travelling jump he ever made. Even the poplar forests of the Underworld, looking much kinder and livelier in Will’s rendition than in real life, with Mrs. O’Leary and Cerberus chasing each other through the flickering leaves. Beautiful, colourful, breathtaking scenes; Nico’s favourite places, Nico’s many homes.

“I get a lot of dreams,” Will admits, dragging a smear of rich purple near the ceiling. “You’re in a lot of them. These are the places you’re smiling, the most.”

“They’re beautiful, Will.” Nico’s throat is drier than any desert he’s ever been to. “Gods, they’re more beautiful here than they are in real life.”

“Liar,” Will teases, although his smile is shy.

Nico has never seen him smile like that. He’s seen a lot more of Will in these past few days, actually; his softness, his kindness, his love.

He has only knows Will for a little over a month, he thinks. But Will loves him. That much is obvious.

“Hey.”

“Hm?”

His eyes are still trained on his work. He is on his tiptoes on a step stool, one leg extended precariously, tongue peeking out of the corner of his mouth. The curve of his brush is careful, meticulous. Only the best for his friends, for Nico. That’s Will.

“Hey,” Nico says again, more urgently. He steps forward, wrapping his fingers around his wrist.

“Just a sec, Neeks, as soon as I’m done we can —”

Nico pulls until he loses his balance, falling into Nico’s arms. He stares into wide, blue blue eyes, for one second, two, then presses their lips together. Will’s squeak of surprise is swallowed by his mouth, hands sliding up his arms to cup his face, tilting his head to the side.

“Oh,” he sighs, eyelashes ticking Nico’s cheeks as they flutter close. “Oh.”

He melts into Nico’s hold. There’s a thunk and a crinkle as his paintbrush falls from his loose fingers, splattering onto the tarp, and paint-wet hands tangle into his hair. Nico finds he doesn’t mind.

“You love me,” he murmurs in between breaths, lips brushing Will’s with every word.

“Yes,” Will breathes. He kisses Nico again, and again. “A lot.”

“Good.” He’s not sure if it’s the paint fumes making him lightheaded, or the odd, slightly uncomfortable position, or the intoxicating, delirious feel of Will’s warm skin. He’s not sure if he cares. “Good.”

It’s not quite an I-love-you-too. The words won’t form on his tongue, so instead he tightens his hold, sending them that way, and presses closer, closer, closer.

Will smiles into the kiss.

He understands just fine.

[f1ghtsoftly]

my head is scrambled but in Kate Manne’s “The Logic Of Misogyny” she put to words something I always, always knew was true.

Most of the time Men don’t hurt women for no reason, they punish women who assert themselves/their personhood. Misogynistic violence is a punishment, it’s a form of conditioning to get women to behave submissively towards men. To punish women for existing in public without male protection. To punish women for daring to think her intellect, athletic or artistic achievement could come before her sex.

I don’t present super femme anymore or hang around men outside my family basically ever-but when I did I was frequently targeted for sexual assault, usually by men who were frustrated they were attracted to me but couldn’t have me. They felt like I was taunting them-but asserting my right to exist as someone they were attracted to/without any sort of male protection or a male protection that didn’t involve sexual favors/submission. That wasn’t an accident, I’m sure if I meekly cowered behind a big boyfriend, I’m sure if I stayed inside, I’m sure if I didn’t assert myself as extraverted, intelligent, funny or charismatic those men would have left me alone-but that would have meant hiding myself from the world, hiding myself from other women and to me that was a bigger loss than a ‘lil danger. I made choices as a young person that I knew with certainty would bring me in closer proximity to men who wanted to hurt me, I decided that living a freer life was better than living a safe one. I don’t necessarily regret my assessment of patriarchy, I am sad that the price you pay for being an independent woman (in a social sense) in public is assault. I don’t blame women who think their safety is more important than making a statement. I’m sad for us both. I’m grateful I was able to find feminist communities because victimization isn’t just something casual you can shake off, even if it feels like men constantly target you/women in general.

Assault doesn’t just roll of your back either. It hurts. In the moment and for years afterwards it hurts. It’s always senseless. Always dehumanizing to the extreme. Always enraging. Always profoundly violating. Always a shock. I struggle to reconcile what I know about rape with what I know about people. I know people can be cruel, unthinking, insecure. I don’t know how someone can plot the rape of a friend or a stranger who has done nothing to deserve it. I don’t know how men can secretly tape their lovers, manipulate a young woman into sex she doesn’t want or do any of the things men do consistently or routinely. I don’t know how a boy could look at the face of his too drunk friend and go “this is my opportunity to have my way with her” instead of putting her to bed. Carelessness, thoughtless is easy to imagine. Conscious cruelty is not. Men know what they do and they either don’t care or like it.

I’m crying in a park in my Dad’s pickup truck. “There are worse things than this, you didn’t die-you’re alive” He says “this wasn’t your fault, I just want to keep you safe and what happened to you isn’t something I can control even though I wish I could”. “I’d feel better if you lived in Austin, because their self defense laws are better, there are lots of gay people there too”

He makes me laugh. I won’t move to Texas. He’s right, it’s not my fault, and helping me get better at self defense helps him feel like he can do something and while self defense does help-it’s not a perfect strategy. The misogynist’s prerogative is to snuff out the life force of the woman he interacts with, the only way to stop him from trying to do that is to become apart of the living dead. Even then, he’ll get your corpse.

There are worse things than rape in this life. A woman alive is better than a woman dead. I guess, but what life is it when constantly forced to battle for your right to live? When at a moments notice you can be filled from the inside out with death. Rotted from your insides out. I wish New York would let me have a gun. I wish I could make men afraid and polite in my presence the way I feel afraid and polite in theirs. I’m so tired of this.

[electricbathsalt]

what would your ideal Overhaul conclusion look like? Your word is fact to me

Hello!! I have a few different ideas for what an “ideal conclusion” could look like, so I suppose I’ll just supply which one I like most, bc I am nothing if not self-indulgent. Also, you put too much power in my hands lol :3

First and foremost: He would get prosthetics. No matter what the situation or plan, he’d be provided with prosthetics.

I’d retain him not meeting with Eri, because Eri does not want to see him. She isn’t ready. It won’t help anyone at this point in time for the two to see each-other again.

Pops is alive, although he and Chisaki have not met again face-to-face. Chisaki still apologized via letter, since that’s all they allowed him. They prohibited Pops from contacting Chisaki, because they don’t think it’s a good idea for now.

He faces consequences, but they are not simply “you’re going back into solitary confinement to rot for the rest of your days”. That’s quite a waste. In my world, there’d be facilities made that are what prisons are actually supposed to be—a rehabilitation center. There’d be strict regulations/schedules, limited freedom, rules on socializing, and monitoring (when outside your room, which is equipped with a bed, table, kitchen, and bathroom), but you also get genuine help in ways such as therapy, and you’re treated with actual humanity. The LOV and some of the Shie Hassaikai would be in one. Their prison sentences include community service, which is typically the only time they spend off facility grounds. I’d want Chisaki to be working in a hospital as part of his community service, although he doesn’t work directly with any civilian patients (yet).

But that’s all to be explained outside the actual scene. As for what the actual scene would theoretically look like…

We find out Chisaki’s working in a hospital as his community service via Midoriya coming to visit him. Chisaki is shown with prosthetics, clean-shaven, and doing genuine work. They have a not-friendly-but-not-hostile conversation where it’s basically Midoriya explaining that he wanted to see what Chisaki was up to, and saying that, despite everything, he wishes the best for Chisaki and hopes that he stays on the right path. That he hopes that one day, Chisaki will learn how to sincerely apologize to Eri, because he’ll understand what he put her through; because he’ll also understand what he himself went through, too. This is when it’s confirmed Chisaki had been experimented on in Garaki/AFO’s orphanage via flashbacks. In these flashbacks, it’s also shown that a lot of the things Chisaki said during the Hassaikai arc were, in fact, taken from things that’d been said to him. It’s shown that Chisaki had sacrificed things multiple times as a child in order to protect others. He always got hurt and betrayed. It was not his tenth act of kindness that had freed him, but his first act of apathy. It’s also shown how anytime Chisaki did anything Pops didn’t want him to, or ‘wrong’, Pops’ only response was to punish him (a lot of the things Pops punished him for as a kid were neurodivergent behaviors).

Midoriya smiles at Chisaki, which mildly surprises him and breaks him out of the flashbacks. “Do you hate me?” Chisaki would ask, impassive. “Do you hate me?” Midoriya would retort.

Midoriya would bring up wanting to help everyone he can, wanting to inspire others to help those next to them. He asks Chisaki if he wants to see Kurono again. “Is this blackmail, a threat, or leverage?” Chisaki would ask. “Is ‘none of the above’ an option?” Midoriya would say with a wobbly smile. Kurono then enters the room. Both Chisaki and Kurono’s eyes widen as they see each-other. A pause.

Then, “Your hair is longer,” Kurono would say. “Your hair is shorter,” Chisaki would say. Kurono hesitantly smiles as he steps as close to Chisaki as he can without touching him, always so aware of Chisaki’s wants and boundaries. “How are you? How’ve they been treating you?” Kurono would quietly ask with his signature note of protectiveness. Chisaki’s eyes gloss. He pulls Kurono into a hug, Kurono yelping in surprise, and Chisaki’s skin breaks out in hives. He buries his face in Kurono’s shoulder. “I’m sorry,” Chisaki would sob into Kurono’s shirt. Kurono wraps his arms around Chisaki, smile returning even softer than it was before. “It’s okay,” Kurono would whisper.

After a moment, Kurono lightly pushes Chisaki back by the shoulders. “We really messed up, didn’t we?” Kurono would tearily laugh. Chisaki deeply frowns. “I messed up,” he would argue. “Yeah, okay,” Kurono would say, raising a brow, “Like when we accidentally poisoned our classmate.”

Chisaki’s frown somehow deepens even more. “That is not the same,” he’d adamantly say, voice cracking, and Kurono bursts out laughing while still crying. Then, that panel switches to one of the two of them as young teens; Chisaki had been indignant and ranting about something while Kurono had just laughed.

Midoriya watches the two, shakily smiling while tearing up himself. Then, he catches sight of something that makes his eyes widen and jaw go slack.

Chisaki’s smiling. Something nearly unnoticeably small and unbelievably hesitant, but there on quivering lips. Genuine and real.

Or something like that? It might be wishful thinking/unrealistic, but I really want Chisaki to smile. I also tried to make it kinda summarized bc I don’t want it to be unrealistically long, although I’m pretty sure it still is unrealistically long for a conclusion of a side character that nobody cares about lmao. Or, two side characters nobody cares about lol. I’m just saying I would’ve eaten up a Kurono/Chisaki reunion

[starrylothcat]

I come bearing gift 🥳 (aka filthy fic prompts 👀)

Can I request "I'm either joining or watching, you pick." with Hunter 😘

Oh my goodness, this took me way longer than I anticipated!

(No) Vacancy

🔥Hunter x Female!Reader One-Shot🔥

Summary: Hunter hears you calling out for him, and he’s ready to answer. 5800 words.

Warnings: NSFW, 18+. Minors DNI. Female masturbation, PiV sex, oral, slight overstimulation? Pure smut.

Author’s Note: Uhhh this one got away from me and is pure, PURE self indulgent smut. Hunter is rotting me inside and out. I hope you enjoy, please let me know what you think!

@wizardofrozz I think you sent me this prompt? If not, true person reveal yourself! But I hope you like it! 🥺👉👈 I slightly edited the prompt in the fic. Thanks for the request!!!

Thank you @wanderer-six and @mylifeisactuallyamess for proof-reading this nonsense. ❤️

“Well, it’s no royal Naboo palace, but it’ll do.” You observed the outside of the dingy inn as you slipped your hood off your head.

It was tucked away in a dark, grimy corner of a seedy town you were dispatched to by Cid.

A neon “No Vacancy” sign flickered on and off, half the letters dark. The road leading up to it was completely empty except for you and Clone Force 99, who were illuminated by the fading neon lights.

You raised an eyebrow at Hunter, who gave a small shrug as you checked the map on your datapad, making sure this was the right place.

“I’d rather stay on The Marauder…or take my chances on the streets.” Echo huffed, a look of disdain on his face as he walked up beside Hunter, both clad in civilian clothes, as were the rest of you.

“Aww, it can’t be that bad! At least we get our own rooms! I can’t remember the last time that happened, if ever!”

Wrecker grasped Tech’s shoulder, giving it a hearty shake in elation as Tech tried to hold on to his goggles, his body being heaved back and forth.

Wrecker was overjoyed at the thought of a real bed and space to spread out, as was Omega.

“I’ve never had an entire room to myself before!” She buzzed with excitement, not caring about the rundown appearance of the inn.

“It is the most logical situation, if we are to gather any intel for Cid.” Tech gave a quick glare to Wrecker, who had released his poor shoulder. He adjusted his goggles. “If we act as travelers we won’t attract as much attention, even if the state of this lodging is…less than desirable. But I will be honest in stating it will be nice to have a sleep uninterrupted by snoring.”

Tech gestured at Wrecker, his goggles reflecting the flashing neon sign of the lodge as he looked down at his datapad.

“Hey, I don’t snore that loud!” Wrecker pouts, crossing his arms. “That’s easy for you to say. You’re not the one hearing it.” Echo scoffed, rolling his eyes.

“Alright boys, enough.” Hunter pinched the bridge of his nose. “It’s only for a few nights, and we can all agree that even though this place isn’t…grand by any means, it’s better than nothing. The faster we can find this shipment location, the faster we can get off this planet.” Hunter felt exposed without his armor, and didn’t want to be here any longer than anyone else.

You were all tired from the long journey here. You were stuck on The Marauder for a few days too long, and everyone was on a slight edge, ready for real rest.

You had been sent to this backwater Outer Rim planet by Cid, tasked with gathering intel on the whereabouts of a high-value smuggled shipment. According to her, the parcel was worth enough credits to buy ten Marauders, and then some.

“This is a delicate situation, bandana, and your goon squad attracts a lot of attention. I need you to blend in, and not cause too much trouble, you understand?” Cid said as she gave Hunter an irritated look from behind her desk.

“We’ll try our best.” Hunter frowned, knowing this mission wasn’t going to be as easy as it seemed. It never was.

Cid rolled her eyes. “Well, I know subtlety isn’t your strong suit so I booked you a place to stay, to stake out and listen for any leads. Your ship might cause a stir, especially if you show up in armor, so you’ll be staying here, acting as civilians while you find the location of the shipment.” She slid over a holodisc with coordinates to a small town inn, where you’d be staying. “Try not to mess this one up, okay, broody? If they get a whiff of someone poking their nose around, they will move it and it might be gone for good. There’s a lot of credits at stake here. You best blend in, for your own sake.”

You remembered Hunter trying to argue with Cid, saying being in one place too long without armor was dangerous. But Cid promised there wouldn’t be trouble if you kept your heads down.

“I don’t know about you, but a real shower is enough for me. I guess we finally have something to thank Cid for.” You quipped, trying to stay positive.

The corners of Hunter’s lips formed a tiny smirk at your comment.

“Don't get too excited, even The Marauder has hot water. Most of the time. Can’t guarantee anything at this place.” You gave him a playful look, smirking back.

Hunter dug into one of his pockets, pulling out small cards that allowed you to access your rooms. “Alright, we’ll meet up at the rendezvous spot early tomorrow. We have a lot of ground to cover.” You looked at your access card, a small number indicating your room location.

Looking at the map of the inn, your room was right next to Hunter’s, the rest of the boys and Omega’s room spread throughout the lodging.

You bid goodnight to everyone as they retreated to their rooms, leaving you and Hunter walking to your own. “Do you think this shipment even exists?” You asked, also getting tired of the wild womp rat chases Cid sent you on.

Hunter let out a sigh. “I don’t know. The intel is limited, and I sense Cid isn’t telling us everything. As usual.” You gave him a soft look, knowing look. Hunter was growing tired of working for Cid, and carries a lot of stress over protecting his team and Omega. His dedication to his family was something you admired about him, among many other things.

“At least she coughed up some accommodation this time around.” You said as Hunter gave a grunt, his eyes flicking to yours. “Yeah…we’ll see if the cards even unlock our rooms. If we even have them.” You had reached your individual doors, stopping in front of Hunter’s, yours only a few feet down the hall from his.

You smiled, the words coming out of your mouth before you could stop yourself. “Well if your access card doesn’t work, you can always come to my room.” Hunter’s eyes locked on yours as you felt heat blaze up to your cheeks at the realization of what you just said. “Err…I uh… I could stay with Omega and you could take my room is what I meant!” You stuttered, trying to salvage your previous statement.

You cursed yourself internally, knowing Hunter probably sensed your heartbeat increasing. You’ve noticed stumbling your words more often around him. Any time he looked your way, all thoughts exited your head and you could only focus on his deep brown eyes, strong jaw, wide shoulders…

The sound of a door unlocking brought you back to the moment. “Well, it seems like my card works. I guess Cid didn’t stiff us. I’ll have to take you up on that offer another time.” You sucked in your breath, trying to figure out what he meant as he slowly opened his door, but didn’t immediately walk in.

“If you need anything, you know where I am.” Hunter hesitated for a moment, looking at you. What you didn’t know was him having the same thoughts as you, admiring your beauty, secretly wanting to join you in your room, hoping what you claimed was a mistake was actually the truth slipping out.

But he didn’t want to overstep and couldn’t bring himself to say anything.

“Yes…uh…goodnight, Hunter.” He nodded, and stepped into his room before he said something he might end up regretting.

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding as you cursed at yourself internally again, accessing your own room. It was small, dinky, and run down, but it was something. The first thing you tested was the shower, and as luck would have it, the water was hot. It was enough to ignore the suspicious stains on the carpet and peeling wallpaper.

You took a long shower, not knowing when you’d have this type of accommodation again, and trying not to think of Hunter, the embarrassment of what you said, but it was getting more difficult.

After your shower you nestled down into the bed, finally able to relax the best you could in these circumstances.

You closed your eyes, trying to focus on the quiet and relish having a room to yourself, finally having a little private time.

Your mind began to wander back to Hunter, as it always did, as you sank into the creaking bed.

You had been with 99 for a while now, acting as an extra hand on missions, also trying to stay afloat by doing odd jobs for Cid. You ran with a pirate gang for a while, dabbled in bounty work, and now you were here. You got along well with the boys and Omega, and finally felt like you had something good, finally belonged.

As you worked alongside Hunter, you began yearning for his gaze, or his rare, surprisingly warm smile. What started off as a small crush has grown into something more and you knew you were falling for him. You tried to deny it, not wanting these feelings to take hold. But you were giving in to him more and more by the day, giving in to his smoky voice, his strength, his loyalty, his everything.

Did he feel the same way? You weren’t sure. But you knew there was some sort of tension between you and it was growing.

You tried to forget these embarrassing thoughts and just go to sleep. But the walls of the rundown inn were thin, and you heard a shower being turned on in the next room.

Hunter’s room.

Heat crept to your cheeks as your mind began to wander again. You imagined him stripping his clothes, neatly placing them at the base of the bed, his naked muscular form revealing itself as he stepped into the hot water.

Stop. You told yourself. He’s your Sergeant. I shouldn’t be thinking of him this way…. But the image of him in the shower was too tempting, as your hand made its way to the waistline of your sleep shorts.

You couldn’t help but think of him thoroughly rubbing himself down with soap, his muscles rippling under the steamy water as the heat released tension from his body.

You imagined his tattoo going all the way down his torso, to his hip, which deliciously dipped to his muscular thighs, which you thought about your hands gripping often. And what lay between his muscular thighs was what really got your mind spinning. You groaned and adjusted your legs, heat beginning to pool between them.

You shouldn’t be having these thoughts. You respected him. He was your teammate. He was your friend.

But you didn’t stop yourself, beginning to get lost in the fantasy as your hand slipped fully beneath your damp panties.

You imagined Hunter’s wet hair stuck to his body as he moaned, his own hand gripping his hard length as he pleasured himself, thinking of you. Water running down his cut muscle, his head thrown back in ecstasy as he brought himself closer to release.

You began to rub circles around your clit, sighing at the sensation, now imagining yourself with him in that shower, his velvet voice murmuring praises in your ear as he thrusted deep inside of you, his warm, calloused hands squeezing every part of your soft flesh.

You thought you were being quiet, stifling your moans as best you could, knowing the walls were thin and Hunter was right on the other side. Maybe you did want him to hear, so he’d know how you truly felt. The thought of him listening only intensified your pleasure and you picked up the pace of your hand, not noticing that Hunter’s shower had stopped a few minutes ago, or that Hunter was hearing every single sound next door.

At first Hunter didn’t want to believe it was you. He had just laid down, his hair damp from the shower, trying to get comfortable. He knew he should be enjoying an actual bed, but his senses were on high alert in this new space. He didn’t like his brothers being so spread out. At the very least, Wrecker’s room was right next door to Omega’s, so he knew that she would be safe if anything were to happen. He knew he shouldn’t worry, but it was habit.

Another worry plagued his mind: you. His thoughts were also preoccupied with you, as they were almost every waking second.

Hunter was struggling with his feelings for you, knowing he couldn’t ignore them much longer. You were reliable, honest, quick-witted, which amused him knowing you were part of a pirate gang before joining them.

You got along with his brothers and Omega liked you, and that was honestly enough for him. He was thinking more and more about his future with his family, and it was hard to visualize that future without you by his side. That’s how he knew he was in deep.

He had wanted to confess his feelings to you multiple times, but always hesitated. He didn’t want to risk ruining your friendship.

Hunter almost told you how he felt tonight, when you were standing outside your door. Hunter wanted to kiss you, take you up on your offer and follow you into your room, show you how much he really cared. But he paused like he always did, not able to find the right words.

Hunter rubbed his face and sighed, wishing he could just sleep.

A faint sound brought him out of his thoughts, his sensitive ears picking up a small moan. He froze, listening as he caught another sigh that sounded awfully similar to your voice.

Hunter first brushed it off to this hotel being less than reputable, probably someone in the room above him watching something illicit on the Holonet.

He was about to put his pillow over his head to drown it out, trying to get a good night’s sleep, but then he heard a louder gasp. It wouldn’t have been heard by anyone else, but he could hear it. There was no denying it now, it was your voice coming from the other side of the wall you shared. The gasps and sighs sounded like they should be coming from a dirty Holonet program, but they were coming from you, from your lips.

His heart thudded, his entire body suddenly on fire, the realization of what you were doing in your room dawning on him.

Hunter knew he shouldn’t listen, but it was impossible for him not to. More soft moans drifted to his ears, his cock instinctually hardening underneath his pants as he imagined you writhing on your bed, your hand working your wet pussy. Were you thinking about him? Someone else? A pang of jealousy shot through him, followed by another pang of guilt. It felt wrong to intrude like this. You deserve privacy, even with his heightened senses, even if you were thinking of someone other than him.

Again, Hunter was going to put his pillow over his head, trying to ignore his throbbing cock and your delicious mewls, but then he heard you again, this time taking the form of his name.

Hunter thought his heart was going to stop. Did he hear correctly? His senses have never led him astray. He focused, listening intently, secretly hoping he was right. Another quiet moan and he heard his name again.

Hunter’s body reacted immediately, intense desire rushing through his veins, goosebumps covering him head to toe as he heard you calling his name. Something primal was climbing its way out of him, not knowing exactly what his next steps were. You were saying his name. You were thinking of him during your most private moment. You must feel the same way that he did for you? All the nights he yearned for you, wanting you, but not knowing how to tell you, or not knowing if you even felt the same way?

Your soft gasps of his name and his name alone was his answer.

His mind was drunk with lust, his body telling him to go next door and help you finish the job. He sat up on his bed, his instincts overtaking his logical brain, and the next thing he knew, he was right outside your door. You were calling out to him, and he couldn’t deny you any longer.

Before he knocked, he could hear your breathing through the door. Your hitched breath as you were bringing yourself closer to release, his name leaving your lips again. He was certain now.

Hunter was ready to break down the door, he needed to see you. To feel you.

Hunter took a breath to focus himself momentarily, trying to get his breathing and heartbeat under control. But he couldn’t wait any longer, your muffled cries the only thing he could focus on. Before he could change his mind, he quickly knocked. For the first time in his life, Hunter had no plan, his mind totally encompassed by you.

He heard you let out a gasp of surprise, then a curse, and quick shuffling. He heard your footsteps coming toward the door. He said your name, his voice low.

You were getting close, your legs shaking, your hand rubbing at just the right spot around your clit, release imminent, your mind intensely focused on Hunter. A loud knock on your door startled you out of your fantasy.

Kriff, who could that be?! You thought, flustered by the interruption and letting out an audible curse. You quickly took your hand out of your pants, frustrated that your fantasy was cut short.

Then you heard Hunter’s voice say your name. You were startled, adrenaline rushed through your body. Why is he knocking at my door so late at night? Something must be wrong. You adjusted yourself, and walked over to the door, just in your nightclothes, panic starting to rise in your chest, the realization that he was right outside your door. Which means he probably heard you. How long was he standing out there? Oh Maker.

“Uh…Hunter? What’s going on?” You asked through the door, trying to play it casual.

There was a moment of silence. “Open the door. Please.”

His voice was strained. You swallowed and grasped the door handle, turning it to open. You pulled the door toward you, only to be pushed back slightly as Hunter barged inside, closing it quickly behind him, his eyes wild. “Hunter…what…what’s going on? Is everything okay?”

You were nervous, he was acting strange and looked disheveled. He wasn’t wearing his bandana, and dressed only in an undershirt and pants. His hair fell around his face as his gaze bore into you. “I heard…you. From my room.” Was all he could muster.

Hunter could smell your arousal in the air of the room and he was close to snapping, all his pent up desire fogging his brain. He needed you, he needed something.

He…heard me? Does he mean…? Oh kriff.

Your face caught on fire at the realization of what he was saying, wanting to disappear into the floor from total humiliation, never to be seen again. You didn’t know what to say, suddenly worried he was mad at you for keeping him awake, demanding to know why his name was coming from your lips, ready to be kicked off the team for insubordination.

You were completely and utterly mortified. Your mind ran circles, trying to think up any excuse. “Hunter I…I’m sorry…I.. didn’t realize…”

“I heard my name.” Hunter interrupted, as he stepped closer to you, his hands forming fists at his sides, his voice shaking. Once again, you wanted to fall through a hole in the floor. You wanted to run away. “You were thinking of me?” His voice was dangerously low as he looked down on you, unclenching his fisted hands and hesitantly resting them on your waist, pleading to himself he wasn’t misreading this entire situation.

Your body quivered, not stopping him as you realized why he was here. He wasn’t upset. He was here to answer your call.

The look in his eyes was absolutely predatory and you noticed a large bulge in his pants as your eyes flicked up and down his body. You were speechless momentarily, but couldn’t deny the ache that was forming between your legs, your heart rate increasing. “I…yes…I was…” was all you could say, your voice barely a whisper. Hunter’s eyes darkened at your words.It was him you were thinking about. No one else.

“Do you think about me often?” he murmured, his voice close to cracking, intoxicated by your scent.

Hunter could see your chest heaving, hear your heart thudding. He could smell a fresh wave of arousal that caused his body to throb as his cock strained against his waistband. “Yes…” You croaked, trembling under his look. His hands gripped your waist tighter, his confidence growing as you answered truthfully. “I could hear everything, your perfect moans…do you realize how long I’ve wanted you?” Hunter hoarsely whispered, barely holding on, his control slipping.

You felt like you were going to explode at his touch and his words. You brought your hands up to grasp his shoulders, his body radiating heat through his clothes.

Were you dreaming?

“Hunter…” a lusty gasp left your lips, and Hunter almost took you then and there. “Let me help you…” He whispered, lowering his head to your neck, his lips brushing right underneath your earlobe.

“I can either join or watch. Your choice.”

Hunter’s voice was deep, and absolutely desperate.

Him admitting he wanted to watch you continue pleasuring yourself almost made you faint, never hearing something so alluring in your entire life.

This had to be a dream.

The thought of him watching you was tempting, but here he was, offering his entire self to you. Something you’ve wanted for so long. You couldn’t pass it up, not now.

“Join me.”

Your voice trembled as you gave him your answer. Hunter lifted his head from your neck, peering into your eyes, searching for the same need that was in his.

“Are you sure?”

You stuttered the words you’ve been wanting to say for months, not seeing any reason to keep it a secret now. “Maker, Hunter…I do want you…I need the real thing, I need you.” Hunter’s eyes flashed, and he let out an anguished growl as he closed the distance between you, pressing his lips to yours in a sloppy and frenzied kiss, doing what you’ve both wanted for so long. It was better than either of you ever imagined, your need for one another finally let loose.

He deepened the kiss by tilting your head back, cradling the back of your skull with his hand, pressing himself even closer to you. You could feel his hot, hard length against your stomach, his craving for you undeniable.

You melted into him, all your secret desire rushing to the surface, tightening your grip on his muscled shoulders. The fingers of his one hand that was holding the back of your head wrapped in your hair, gently tugging your neck even further back as his lips consumed yours. You let out a moan at the sensation, giving him the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, which you eagerly welcomed.

Hunter let out his own gasp as your hands moved from his shoulders to his scalp, your fingernails lightly raking down his crown. You felt like you were floating, the breath completely knocked out of your lungs at his taste and his passion, still not believing he was here, doing this to you.

After what seemed like hours, Hunter reluctantly broke the kiss momentarily, giving you both a chance to catch your breath you didn’t realize you needed.

“I need you, too…” He gasped. “I have for a long time…you have no idea what you do to me, cyar’ika…” Hunter released the back of your head, his warm hands sliding down to your back as he peppered hot, open mouth kisses on your neck. He nipped and sucked at your soft skin, also not believing this was real. If this was real, it felt like a weight had been lifted off his chest at saying out loud how he felt, and hearing that you felt the same way back.

Hunter’s free hand ghosted under your night shirt, and when you didn’t tell him to stop, he brought it up to your breast, squeezing and pinching the sensitive flesh. Your nipples pebbled at the sensation, his skilled fingers rubbing and rolling the hardened nub, your arousal growing more than you thought you could handle.

Hunter’s tongue licked over your jugular, and he could feel your blood pumping under his tongue, tasting the sweat and craving on your skin, stoking the raging fire in him even more as he walked you back toward the edge of the bed.

You felt the back of your knees bump the mattress, and Hunter held you as you slowly laid down, bringing himself with you. He nestled between your legs, kissing you deeply again, his arms caging you in.

You bucked against him, rubbing yourself against his hard bulge, searching for that delicious friction.

He groaned into your mouth, and now it was Hunter’s turn to desperately rut against you, his control now almost completely gone. You were going to be the end of him.

“I need to see all of you, now.” Hunter ordered as he began urgently tugging at your clothes, needing to feel your skin on his. He rolled off of you momentarily, standing up to practically rip his civvies off his body as you did the same on the bed, shimmying out of your sleepwear and tossing them to the side.

He stopped, his mind finding clarity for one moment as he gazed at your body and you at his. Saliva pooled in your mouth at the sight of him, unbelievably defined, broad chest and muscular arms. His cock swollen and girthy between his narrow waist, glistening with precum, begging for relief. Begging for you.

“Beautiful…so beautiful.” He muttered as he climbed on top of you again, still gazing at you. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him back down to your body. Your lips met, this time less intense, as Hunter relished your irresistible taste, the taste he’s been dreaming of. He swallowed every gasp that left your lips, the kiss heating up again as you grasped the sides of his head, your soft skin moving against his hard, battle-scarred body as he rubbed his length against your soaking entrance.

But there was another taste he wanted, needed or he thought he was going to implode.

Hunter pulled himself away from you as a whine left your lips, already missing his touch.

He moved down your body, kissing down your neck, collarbone, stopping at your breasts to take each sensitive nipple in his mouth for brief attention before continuing on. He slid backwards off you until he was kneeling on the ground at the base of the bed. “I want to taste how much you want me.” He growled as he grasped your ankles and pulled you to the edge of the bed, throwing your legs over his shoulders, causing you to yelp at how easily he was manhandling you.

You knew what he was about to do, but that didn’t prepare you for how his mouth felt as he began desperately lapping at your cunt, absolutely devouring you as your hands clenched the sheets for dear life as louder and louder moans escaped from deep in your chest. You couldn’t speak as you were quickly reaching your peak for the second time that night.

Hunter was completely lost now, having your arousal on his tongue, his face pressed in the source of your longing. His cock ached almost painfully, but it had to wait. He wanted you to feel how much he wanted you.

Hunter swirled his tongue around your clit, never wanting this moment to end. He could stay between your legs for the rest of his life, lapping at your juices and hearing every single choked cry that caught in your throat as he hummed against your core in his own daze. He felt your hands suddenly grasping at his hair, tugging as you cried out that you were close, gasping his name. Hunter continued his feast as your body thrashed, intense pressure building in your lower abdomen. With one more long lick, your orgasm washed over you, your back arching off the bed, Hunter’s name a ragged cry as he worked you through your release, not wanting to miss a single drop.

He finally lifted his head from between your thighs, knowing he wasn’t going to last much longer at this rate. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do that.” You blushed at his words as he climbed back on top of you lost in a haze of passion and pure animal instinct. “Ready?” He muttered, still making sure you were okay with this, with him, as he kissed you, tasting yourself on his lips.

“Hunter, I need you inside me right now, please…I need you…”

You couldn’t wait any longer. You had to feel him inside of you.

Your pleads were all he needed to hear as he pushed in to your entrance, holding back every atom in his body that wanted to slam in to you and fuck you senseless. But he didn’t want to hurt you, though his composure was crumbling.

You could feel all the muscles in Hunter’s body tense as he slowly slid in, the sensation of your velvety muscle gliding against him almost making him cum right then and there, his senses completely overloaded.

Hunter bottomed out and brought his forehead to yours, his breath shaking and labored. “You feel incredible…” His tone was low, barely audible. Hunter waited for a moment, feeling you around him, hearing your breathing, inhaling your sweet aroma, still hoping this wasn’t a dream as he let you get used to him inside you, the anticipation ready to rip him apart.

You moved your hips slightly, telling him it was okay to continue, knowing what he wanted.

He nodded wordlessly and began rolling his hips slowly into yours. The feeling of him finally inside you, stretching your walls, took your breath away. Hunter let out a moan so lewd you knew it would be burned into your memories forever.

You locked your ankles around his waist, adjusting the angle of his cock as he moved in you. “You can go faster, Hunter. I want you to fuck me.”

That predatory glint in his eye returned at your bold statement as he increased his pace, your words fueling him.

It was Hunter’s turn to grasp the sheets around your head as he got lost in pleasure, grinding himself in to you, his eyes screwed shut and his head right against yours, his shaking moans escaping his lips right at your ear. Hunter’s senses were completely shot now.

Your taste, smell, sounds…every nerve in his body felt like it was charged with electricity, a current running down his spine as he focused on nothing but you.

Hunter was hitting a spot so deep you couldn’t formulate any thoughts, your own whimpers and gasps growing louder and more desperate.

You could feel another orgasm building, the pressure of his pelvis on yours rubbing on just the right spot. Your hands grasped at the back of his head as your body shook, getting closer to your release.

He was driving himself into you, his control finally gone. The intensity of his thrusts made your mind melt, you had never felt this way with anyone ever before.

Hunter was pressing frantic kisses to the side of your mouth, getting close himself as he fucked you in to the shaking bed.

You could barely make out the jumble of praises he was uttering on your lips between thrusts. “Let go for me…I won’t last much longer…you’re so beautiful like this…”

Hunter’s fervid hips and passionate words brought you to your peak, your orgasm spreading like a tidal wave over your body, your nails digging into Hunter’s skull and he continued to fuck you senseless, his name a chant in the heavy air of the room.

Hunter let out a strained growl as his hips stuttered into yours, your final pinnacle bringing him to his own end as he felt your walls clench around him. “Wh-where?” He gasped as your head lolled against the pillow, trying to keep your eyes open. “Inside.” Your hoarse statement was all he needed to hear as pleasure ripped through his body, pressing impossibly deep into you, his body vibrating with every intense sensation imaginable.

With a final drive of his hips, Hunter collapsed on top of you, careful not to crush you under his weight. For a few moments, it was silent except for your combined gasps, desperate to get air back in your lungs from the exertion.

Your mind was still trying to catch up with everything that had just happened. Hunter was on top of you? Naked? Still inside you? Was it time to wake up from this dream? Hunter lifted his head, looking at you. “I hope the real thing was as good as you imagined.” His voice was soft, his hair sticking to his forehead, glistening with sweat. You’ve never seen him so breathless.

“It was better than good.” You exhaled, still trying to catch your own breath.

Hunter lifted himself up off of you, rolling to the side, feeling slightly dizzy as the electric buzz in his body began to fade as his senses returned to normal. Hunter hummed and brought his hands behind his head, laying on his back. You were silent again for a few moments, but it was comfortable.

“You know,” he finally rumbled, “This place isn’t half bad. I wouldn’t mind if we had to stay a few extra nights.” His eyes flicked to yours, hoping you’d catch his meaning.

“Though I might have to move rooms if my neighbor continues to be so loud. Won’t get any sleep with such a distraction.”

You smiled and rolled on your side toward him. “Hmm, pretty sure I saw the “No Vacancy” sign out front. But I think we can work something out.”

Hunter let out a chuckle at your response, rolling to face you, his face softening.

“I’d like it if we could work something out.”

You smiled at his gentle words, a blush forming on your cheeks. “Me too.”

Hunter pulled you against him, wrapping his body around yours. “Can’t promise you’ll get any sleep in this room, though.” You muttered against his warm body.

Hunter smirked as he brought his lips to yours for a meaningful kiss.

“If it means being with you, it’s worth it.”