#1236+ days and counting...

[cozyaliensuperstar7]

Greatness Amongst You: Our Tribal Chief Roman Reigns 👑☝🏾

[juniperskye]

Begin Again.

Sneak peek: Reader got out of a relationship about eight months ago and was sure love was meant to burn and break and end…but this particular Wednesday made her believe that maybe, just maybe, she could begin again with someone new.

Aaron Hotchner x (Fem) Reader

Angst/Fluff

Word count: 1236

***Flashbacks are indented and in italics – this story flashes from present to past a few times. ***

REQUESTS ARE OPEN - not edited - please be kind. Requests are open and feedback is welcome if it's constructive!

Warnings: My blog is 18+, minors DNI, implied age gap (kinda?), anxiety, self-consciousness, Past abusive relationship, explicit LANGUAGE,  no use of y/n, mention of Jack, mention of Hotch’s previous relationship, story is guided by begin again by Taylor Swift (lyrics aren’t all directly used), mention of a love of the Beatles. I think that’s all, let me know if I missed any!

I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

You glanced at yourself in the mirror, second guessing your outfit choice.  Were the heels too much? Would he comment on them, would he be okay with them? Maybe you should switch to flats, they would be a safer choice.

“Babe seriously. Do you have to wear heels?” He berated you. “These are the shoes she told us to wear. I can’t switch shoes I’m a bridesmaid and were all supposed to look uniform.” You explained. “Really? You’re going to make me look so fucking stupid. Who cares if she chose those, just tell her the didn’t fit or the clasp broke or something.” “I’m not doing that.” You said. “You’re so difficult. Just change your shoes, it’s not a big deal. I just don’t want to look like a fucking idiot because my girlfriend is towering over me.” He continued.

You could remember multiple arguments that went that way. Him yelling at you for dressing how you wanted, so you didn’t. He started picking out your clothes and you complied, because that was easier than having him tear you down.

You smoothed your hands over your clothes and made your way out the door. The drive to the Café was a short one. You parked and made your way across the street, ready to go in and get a table for the two of you, fully expecting to have beaten him there.

To your surprise, when you opened the door, there he was. Aaron stood from his seat and walked toward you. You met him halfway and he pulled you into a gentle embrace. You didn’t fail to notice how he still towered over you despite your heels,

“Hi! It’s so good to see you.” He said pulling out your chair.

“Oh, thank you! It’s good to see you too, I was really glad you called.” You smiled as Aaron returned to his seat across from you.

“Yeah, sorry that it’s a random Wednesday, but with my job it makes it so hard and with us being free today I wanted to take the chance and spend it with you.” Aaron explained.

“I am happy to be here! The day doesn’t matter.” You shot Aaron a shy smile.

“You look beautiful by the way.”

You couldn’t help but blush at Aaron’s words. He had been so kind and gentle with you since you had started seeing one another. You had only gone on a few dates, but things were really good. The two of you had agreed to take things slow, having both gotten out of relationships not too long ago and Aaron also had Jack to think about. You guys had texted and talked on the phone quite a bit. He had gone as far as to call you late one night after a particularly rough case.

The two of you were currently talking about how your respective weeks have gone. Aaron had just gotten back from a case (hence why you were on your date now) and you had just completed a pretty big project at work. In the midst of your conversation, the song playing in the café changed to I Will by the Beatles, one of your favorite songs.

“Oh my god I love this song!” You gushed, quietly humming along.

“You like the Beatles?” Aaron asked.

“I love them! I have every one of their albums on vinyl.” You blushed.

“I don’t think I have ever met a woman with the same level of Beatles obsession as my own.” Aaron smiled at you in admiration.

The two of you ate while quietly enjoying the music and one another’s company.

“For if I ever saw you, I didn’t catch your name. But it never really mattered, I will always feel the same. Love you forever and forever, love you with all my hear- “ “Jesus, can you stop fucking singing that song?” He huffed. “Babe, it’s a really good song, I wish you would just listen to the words.” “I don’t give a shit about your stupid song. I don’t get it anyway.” He shut you down.

Aaron and you continued your conversation upon finishing your meal. You were in pure bliss with how amazing things were going. Aaron was attentive and gave you his full attention. He nodded and responded when it was needed. He also held conversation so well, he gave just enough information about himself in combination with asking you about yourself.

Another thing that had you swooning over Aaron was the fact that he had thrown his head back in laughter a few times throughout your conversation. You truly couldn’t wrap your head around how lucky you had been to have met Aaron. Your ex had never found your sense of humor funny, and it was nice to be in the presence of someone who appreciated it.

“Can you not make jokes like that when we’re in front of my friends? Like seriously what the fuck was that?” He demanded. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean anything by it. It was just a joke. Your friends laughed.” You shrugged. “It wasn’t even funny. They just laughed out of pity to save you from the embarrassment of nobody understanding your stupid ass jokes.” He rolled his eyes at you as he stormed off.

Aaron checked his watch and noticed how late it was getting. He looked into your eyes and smiled, neither one of you wanting this day to end. But he needed to go pick up Jack from soccer practice.

“Can I walk you to your car?” Aaron asked.

“That would be great.” You smiled, wrapping your scarf around your neck.

As you made your way over to your car, you thought about talking to Aaron about how your ex had truly broken you, and that part of the reason you’d requested to take things so slowly is because you had to relearn how to accept love from someone. The last eight months had allowed you time to fall in love with yourself again, but loving someone else was a whole new obstacle you were working through.

Aaron’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts, he had been talking about how he wanted to introduce you to Jack, not now, but in the near future. He had come up with a nice way to do so.

“So, Jack and I always watch Elf and the Grinch around Christmas, I think it could be nice if one night you came over and watched one of them with us, you know. It gives us a few more weeks to really solidify things between us and by then we will have been seeing each other for four months. What do you say?” Aaron looked hopefully at you.

“Only if it’s the Jim Carrey Grinch movie. That new animated one is cute and all, but it doesn’t hold a candle to the live action.” You smiled back at him.

“Of course, it’s the Jim Carrey one. We take things very seriously at our house.” Aaron smirked at you.

Aaron and you shared a laugh, and then he brushed his hand over your cheek, leaned in, and kissed you gently. December couldn’t come fast enough. Things with your ex had really messed you up, and he’d left you believing that love wasn’t meant to flourish, just burn, and break and end.

But on a Wednesday, in a Café you watched it begin again.

[wwe-supernaturalxbands]

Grief

Emily Prentiss X F!Reader

Summary: Spencer had to tell Emily Prentiss' girlfriend that she had died. After, Emily is no longer dead and is trying to get back with her ex as if nothing happened.

Warnings: No happy ending, Emily Prentiss fake death, discussion of putting up babies for adoption, highkey JJ bashing,

Word Count: 1236

*Flashback*

Spencer and JJ walk into the coffee shop that Y/N, Emily's girlfriend, works. JJ looked uncomfortable but Spencer chalked it up to the guilt. They notice her working the cash register, her 6 month pregnancy showing. Her and Emily had decided after 4 years of dating, now was a good time to start their family and they had gone to the clinic and decided Y/N was going to carry the baby as she worked at a coffee shop and Emily could keep working in the BAU. They walked up the register and Y/N smiled at them, "hey guys! What can I get you?" "I'm sorry YN but Emily was killed by Doyle" JJ tells her, deciding to not beat around the bush. Y/N had known about Doyle, Emily had told her once they had been dating for 2 years. "No" is all she says but when she notices JJ refuses to look at her and Spencer is on the verge of crying she begins to cry. Sava, her coworker, quickly comes to her when she notices what's happening. "No" she repeats and she begins to cry and her knees buckle. Sava notices and grabs her as Y/N falls down and begins to cry and scream. The other worker, Dean, also comes to comfort her. Luckily it was a slow day and there was no customers inside. She continues to scream and cry, until it hurts and she's just quietly heaving, the baby kicking. "Water" Spencer asks, Dean going to get her some water. "We're very sorry Y/N" Spencer tells her and before he can hug her, JJ grabs his hand, "we have a case" is all she says and forces him to leave Y/N there, crying into the arms of her coworkers, as she realizes the other mother of her unborn baby and the love of her life has been killed.

** Now

It's been about a year since Emily had her death faked and now that they had defeated Doyle, she knew it was time to go find Y/N, the love of her life. She had continuously asked JJ for details, updates on Y/N and their little girl, but JJ was very vague and didn't really say anything useful. After returning and everyone finally forgiving, Prentiss could tell that the pentagon had changed JJ, and although she didn't notice while she was in Paris, now that they were face to face, she could tell the difference. She figured JJ didn't actually care about the relationship, so she decided to just go to Garcia's office. "Hey Pen, JJ said you're all still in contact with Y/N, does she still work at the coffee shop" Prentiss asked, getting worried when she notices Penelope's sad expression. "No, after JJ told her the news of your death, she told us to just give her space, let her grieve and when she was ready, she'd contact us. She still hasn't." Prentiss nodded and decided to take her lunch break and go to the coffee shop.

As she walks in, she notices it's a bit busy and hopes this isn't overwhelming. Before her death, Emily had bought a ring, to propose and she currently had it in her pocket. She gets in line, nervous about how the reunion may go, she understands Y/N may be mad but after she explains everything, she hopes they can get married and raise their daughter together. JJ never told her when the baby was born but Emily figured she's got to be about a year old now and is hopefully healthy. As the people in front of her pay and move, she looks and notices it's a different coworker than the ones she met before, "is Y/N working? I'm her girlfriend" Emily asks, not wanting to wait any longer. "Y/N's not dating" is all the woman says, Emily notices her nametag has the name 'Mirabel.' "It's a long story, can I please speak to her" Emily asks and pulls out her FBI badge, hoping to speed this up. As soon as Mirabel sees the badge she nods and walks into the kitchen area. After a few minutes she comes out, looking mad. "Ma'am I don't know who you think you are but Y/N said her girlfriend was killed last year" "It's a big misunderstanding, I'm her girlfriend" Emily tries to explain and before Mirabel can respond, Y/N comes out and gasps as she sees Emily. "Baby" Emily whispers and before she can try to get close to Y/N, Y/N looks mad. "Were you to much of a coward to break up with me? Is that why you had Jennifer and Spencer tell me you were killed." People turn to look at them, "baby can we please do this in private, I can explain" Emily tries again. Y/N stays still, anger still in her eyes. Sighing, Emily knows she has to explain here, in front of strangers. Just as she's about to explain she sees Sava, Y/N's coworker that has been there since before Emily had to leave. Sava looks confused but angry. "Doyle was after us baby, I knew I had to protect you and our little girl so I had to run. I had to get him as far away from you as possible. He got me and he did kill me but I was saved, I had to get surgery and before they could call you, Hotch and JJ had to explain what was going on and they faked my death, while I was still under from the surgery. I didn't know this was going to happen, but they made me go to Paris while they continued to search for Doyle. I continuously asked JJ for updates on my girls but she implied you didn't want anything to do with the team." Emily explains, upset that her girl would isolate herself. She notices Y/N go rigid and scoff. "Jennifer clearly didn't want me involved with the team, I tried reaching out, hoping to not mourn the love of my life alone but she told me to leave the team alone, that I would remind them of you too much, she even told me it'd be best for the team if I didn't go to your funeral. And so you know, when she told me you fucking died, I screamed, and I screamed until my lungs hurt to much to continue and Spencer and Jennifer just left me here, on the ground, as if I was just discarded trash" She says and before Emily can try to say something else, Y/N begins to walk away. Before she leaves Emily there, she says something else to break Em's heart and the ring sit heavy in her pocket. "I mourned the love of my life and it took me months to be able to slightly recover so if you think you can waltz back in here and we can go back to how we used to be, you're wrong. I don't want anything to do with you or your team anymore" "What about our daughter? Can I at least be in her life?" What Y/N said next, was what broke the camel's back in Emily's heart, "if you find her, you can ask. I don't know who adopted her when I gave her up" and finally walks back into the kitchen, Marisol awkwardly standing there and Sava standing in front of the door, ensuring Emily doesn't follow.

[djarindroid]

For the requests, what about Cassian and acts of service? He seems like someone who wouldn’t express his love with words very often, but more so with actions.

(sorry this took so long to respond to, the second I opened up requests life got really crazy) ok ok this is so accurate, you just know Cassian would go above and beyond for you 🥹

Helping Hand

Pairing: Cassian x Reader Summary: Its chaos at the rebel base, but you have a mysterious helper... Word Count: 1236

It had been a grueling day, you had woken to the sound of sirens as ships returned to the base. You’d sprinted down to the hangar to discover, for lack of a better word, a shit show. Multiple ships had returned with smoke pouring out of them and blaster marks littering their sides. You didn’t have time to ask what had happened as before you knew it you’d been swept into the chaos of it all.

That was hours ago, you weren’t even sure how long you’d been working. You’d been making your way around the ships, trying your best to fix what you could. Completely covered in dirt and oil, you groaned as you laid beneath the 4th (maybe it was the 5th) ship. Staring at the mass of tangled wires above you, you could barely focus your eyes and tell where one cord ended and the other began.

Having been in such a rush to get to work that you hadn’t stopped to grab your morning cup of caff. You definitely didn’t have time to go get it now, you rubbed your eyes in an effort to refocus. Before you could reach up to begin working you felt something tap your ankle, you peaked down to where your lower legs stuck out from the bottom of the ship. You saw two feet standing next to your own, and a hand reaching down placing a cup of caff next to you before the two feet retreated.

You slid out as quickly as you could to thank your savior but there were too many people in the area to figure out who’d brought you the cup. You took a moment to savor the smell of the hot caff as you picked it up. You took a sip, the taste instantly made you feel more alert and awake. You glanced around the area attempting to catch a glimpse of the mysterious person. Really it could've been anyone, maybe another mechanic who’s been down here as long as you.

With a renewed sense of determination you dove back under the ship, ready to carry on with the task at hand. The re-wiring was a breeze, you easily completed it in half the time you expected to and you put it down to the gifted caff. 

You moved onto the next job, raring to get stuck in. This one wouldn’t be so bad, it just needed the exterior patching up where the blasters had broken through the shield. You grabbed your gear and clambered up on top of the ship. 

After inspecting the damage you knew you’d just need to weld the exterior together, you reached into your supplies to search for your protective goggles only to find they weren’t there. Sighing you climbed back down off of the ship and jogged over to your station. You searched high and low but with no luck.

You decided to go back to the ship and think of another way to solve the problem but upon your return you found your goggles waiting for you. Maybe you’d just missed them before but you were sure they hadn’t been there when you left. You glanced around but couldn’t see anything or anyone out of the ordinary, shrugging, you got back to work. 

A few more small things happened throughout your day, a glass of water appearing just as you started to get thirsty, a towel appearing when you spilled oil over yourself, your wrench making a reappearance after you lost it a few weeks ago. You didn’t dwell on it for too long, for all you knew you could be that over tired that all of this was  stuff you were doing. 

There was one job left for you to do, it wasn’t anything major, the head mechanic had even told you to leave it for the day but you were determined to get this done. If you got this done that would be everything back to as normal as it can be, but you were so tired. Everything ached as you tried to figure out what you needed to do. Surely it couldn’t hurt to sit down for 5 minutes, just to reset yourself. That would be ok.

You lowered yourself onto a nearby crate with a groan, your body grateful for the brief break. The busy day caught up to you instantly, the exhaustion washed over you as you battled to keep your eyes open. A battle that you quickly lost, sleep quickly consumed you as you fell backwards where you rested upon a wall.

You awoke suddenly, unsure with how much time had passed but it was now completely dark outside the hangar. ‘Shoot,’ you huffed out, you hadn’t meant to fall asleep, you wanted to get the last job done before you went back to your bunk. You prepared to stand up, when you noticed a large coat covering you.

A smile crept its way on your face, you’d recognise this coat anywhere. Cassian was back. As you pulled the coat closer to you everything from the day started to fall into place, Cassian was your mystery helper. He’d given you that morning caff, your goggles mysteriously appearing, the water, everything was him. 

A metal clang brought you out of your thoughts, you looked up to see him standing under the wing of the last ship. Tears brimmed in your eyes, he was finishing the last job. You couldn’t believe how lucky you were. With a mix of excitement and relief you hurried over to where he was working.

Upon hearing your footsteps, Cassian glanced over to you, a smile gracing his face. The sight of him, disheveled with a slight sheen of sweat covering his face, made your heart skip a beat.

‘Hey,’ he said as you approached. ‘I didn’t want to wake you until I was done.’ 

You closed the distance and wrapped your arms around his middle. Burying yourself in his warmth, you took a deep breath and truly relaxed as he wrapped his own arms around you. 

‘Thank you,’ you mumbled into his chest.

‘Don’t thank me yet, I’m not done,’ Cassian replied.

‘Not just this Cassian,’ you pulled back slightly to peer up at him. ‘For everything today.’

He smirked, ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ he uttered as he looked back up to the ship. You giggled and he looked back down and met your eyes. One of his hands came up to cup your cheek, ‘I know today was stressful, I just wanted to help.’

You lent up to place a light kiss on his lips. No-one had ever shown you that they cared for you this deeply before. What Cassian lacked in words he more than made up for in his actions and you would be eternally grateful for every little thing he does for you. Your heart swelled knowing that he had been watching out for you all day. 

‘Now you’re awake you can help me finish this and we can go rest in an actual bed, not on that uncomfortable looking box I found you on earlier,’ he smiled.

‘That sounds perfect,’ you kissed him lightly once more before the two of you got to work. You knew this would be the quickest job of the day as you wanted nothing more than to retire to bed and lay in Cassian’s arms for as long as possible.

[stories-and-chaos]

Tarnished pt 22

[Helluva Boss AU where Blitzø’s childhood theft from Stolas’ palace is discovered and major consequences ensue for everyone involved.]

[Part 22/?? Word count: 1236 Cw: drug use, addiction, language]

—————

Barb sorted through Fizzarolli’s fan mail in her tiny office. Ostensibly, she was her friend’s bodyguard whenever he was in Greed; she was also acting as his assistant. Mammon didn't want anyone on his payroll wasting time. Technically, she worked for Fizz, which meant she could refuse the Sin. But doing administrative tasks when Fizz wasn’t surrounded by fans kept Mammon from grumbling at his brand face.

And he needed help with the mail. The Fizzies had launched in full two weeks before the fifth annual clown pageant. Fizzarolli had won that as well; his upgraded extendable limbs added to his already impressive act.

Barb had to give some credit to Mammon, he knew how to market people and products. Fizz’s second win in a row and his comeback story with the launch of Fizzy robots for every occasion, all of Hell knew the imp’s face. And they were willing to pay Mammon’s prices for merchandise.

All that exposure meant fans and fans meant all sorts of messages. Letters, forum messages, Sinstagram posts, fanart both wholesome and lewd. Mammon had a PR team for all the digital content, since that was public. The physical mail also went through the PR team before being sent to Fizz. There was still a massive amount needing replies, which Barb was helping with.

“Jesus H. Christ,” she muttered, sorting through the day's pile. There wasn’t anything dangerous in the envelopes, Mammon’s people saw to that. But the amount of requests for feet pics, pictures of Fizz without his prosthetics, offers for ‘a good time’ and straight up pornographic fanart was ridiculous. Barb felt like her eyes needed bleach some days, but she didn’t want her friend dealing with this nonsense alone. “I keep telling the assholes to not send the skeevy shit but do they listen? Noooooo, it’s ‘not their job to moderate content.’ Bullshit, you’re a PR team, it is your fucking job.”

The rejected pile steadily rose and the accepted pile gradually had a few letters added. Then she saw a name that made her want to scream. More than fan mail sorting usually did.

Blitzø.

Her fucking traitor twin. The scumbag who left- who abandoned his family and friends to be a royal pet. And now he was sending Fizzarolli fan mail?!

“What the fuck are you pulling Blitzo?” she hissed at the envelope in her claws. Nothing from him for years and once Fizz is successful and famous he tries to contact them? Not even ‘them,’ the envelope was addressed to Fizz.

Barb could tell from the feel of the envelope there were several pages in the letter. She wasn’t going to read it and she sure as shit wasn’t going to send it Fizz’s way. Most of the rejected mail was just shredded. She scrawled ‘RETURN TO SENDER’ in bold red marker. Hopefully the asshat would get the hint.

Later that day, as she and Fizz were finishing up the handful of responses to fans (mostly to kids) she debated on whether to tell him about the letter. Barb decided she’d better, in case the traitor tried to get in touch another way.

“You got another letter that went into the reject pile.” Fizz quirked an eyebrow. She usually didn’t mention the mail she filtered out unless it was important or particularly hilarious. “It was from Blitzo.”

Fizz gripped the pen he was using. His mechanical fingers twitched and the plastic tube snapped in half, creating a spray of ink. Ichor drained from his face, then his cheeks flushed again in anger. “The fuck does that asshole want?”

Barb shrugged. “Dunno. Didn’t read it, I just sent it back. Figured it can’t be that important, coming from a traitorous dickhead only when you’re famous.” He looked at her, anger at Blitzo warring with gratitude for her in his expression. “If he sends any more, I’ll send ‘em right back. Should probably tell the PR guys he might contact you another way though.”

He dumped the ruined gel pen in the trash bin and grabbed a tissue to clean his hand. “Fuck, Ozzie’s gonna be pissed if this gets in the joints. Thanks for looking out for me Barb.”

“Course Fizz. We look out for each other, right?” She decided to ignore his mention of Asmodeus. He’d been spending more time with the Sin of Lust, even now that the Fizzy robot development was done for the time being. What the fuck is it with royal demons and imp guys? she thought to herself.

Fizzarolli gave her a shaky smile and tossed the ink covered tissue into the trash. “Well I’m not up for answering more mail. Wanna call it a day and grab something terrible for us?”

Barb stood up and stretched, popping vertebrae down her spine and tail. “Thought you had a dinner meeting with Asmodeus.” She knew he did, she had to know his schedule. If he was going to be with a Deadly Sin, he really didn’t need her acting as bodyguard.

“Shit, I almost forgot. It’s not business though, if you wanna join u-“

“I’ll pass. Don’t wanna be a third wheel and all that shit.” She’d tagged along with Fizz and Ozzie once before and swore never again. Not unless she had her own date. No matter how much the two men denied it, she could see where things were headed.

Fizz stammered, “We-we’re not an item Barb! I keep telling you, it’s just business and the occasional fuck.”

“So if tonight isn’t business it’s the ‘occasional’ fuck.” She made air quotes as she walked out of the room with him. “Still don’t wanna be around for that Fizz. Have fun, I’ll see you tomorrow.” Fizz waved as she headed out the building; he had to text Ozzie to send a car up to Greed and wait for his ride.

Getting something terrible to eat sounded amazing though, so she got cheap Chinese food on the way home. The staff knew her usual order and she soon had a takeout bag in one hand and an extra egg roll to snack on as she walked.

Her studio apartment, decorated haphazardly in rock music paraphernalia, was unsurprisingly empty. She managed to keep most of her emotions at bay as she watched a hellanovella and devoured her fried rice. But there was an end to the episode and comfort food.

Anger and confusion and loneliness bubbled up. She chucked an empty takeout box at the wall and gripped the sides of her head. “Goddammit Blitzo! You’re not even here and you’re fucking up my life.” Just the reminder that he existed sent her spiraling into the worst memories.

Her brother abandoning them. Her mom covering bruises. Her dad’s rising anger towards her and Fizz. Straining to match Fizz as a partner. Fighting creeps and stalkers. The fire. Finding Fizz. Finding…her mom.

“FUCK!” she yelled, throwing a wooden chopstick after the box. She didn’t want to think about it. She didn’t want to think about anything. Barb had promised herself she wouldn’t use again; she’d been clean the past four months. But Barb four months ago hadn’t expected Blitzo to resurface. So today’s Barb unblocked her dealer’s number to see if she could hook her up fast.

As it turned out, her dealer could. And she got a second ‘something terrible’ that let her not think about anything until the high wore off.

—————

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[soppe-ty]

WHAT I EAT TODAY

breakfast : skip

Lunch: 2 rice cake with cream cheese ( 37 +19=56cal)

Mushrooms (20cal)

O% yogurt (50cal)

ICE cream (150 cal)

Binge : 4 mini cake (560 cal) + chocolat bar (400cal)

Sport: 8km walk/run + hard cleaning

Dîner: skip

Eat: 1236

Burn: 1048

Total: 188

Do you think it Can count at metabolism day?

[lumiolivier]

Daddy's Little One

Day 10 of 31 of Kinktober

Prompt: Daddy/Mommy

Word count: 1236

Mello's had a hard day...

“Alright, assholes!” Mello called out into the warehouse where a collective of large men with larger guns stood around, waiting for his orders.  No one wanted to deal with him.  He was brash, rude, and the youngest one in the room.  And yet, they all had to take their orders from him.  At the same time, though, he was an excellent leader.  They may not have liked them, but he had all of their respect, “Listen close because you’re not going to hear this from me often.  But you’re all doing great.  Last week’s shipment went smoothly.  I already got word from the buyer and we’re getting a nice kickback from this.  But I’m going home.  I need a long, hot bath.  And if any of you need me, don’t.  We have the buddy system around here for a reason.  Matt…Matt…WHERE THE FUCK IS MATT?”

“I’m right here, Mello,” Matt came back in from a smoke break and draped his arms around Mello.  Immediately, Mello shook him off, “Ouch…What the hell, Mello?  What did I do?”

“Come on,” Mello grabbed Matt by his shirt and dragged him to the car, “We’re going home.”

“Hey, hey…” Matt stumbled behind him, “Seriously, Mello, what the fuck?”

“We need to get home,” Mello demanded, “I’ll explain there.”

“Alright.” But Matt had a feeling.  One that didn’t come over him often, but he knew what needed to be done.

When they got home, Mello let the couch swallow him.  His head was throbbing and his stomach in knots.  Sure, his last shipment went through, but not exactly without a hitch.  He knew he had to take a pay cut.  He knew he was going to hate himself for it later.  And Matt knew he had to approach the ticking time bomb on the couch with great caution.

“Mello?” Matt sat across from him, “Everything ok?”

“Fuck off.”

“I see someone’s a little touchy,” Matt noticed, “You want to talk?”

“Fuck.  Off.”

“Fine,” Matt backed off, “Be that way.  I mean, I’m just the closest thing you’ve ever had to a friend.  The best boyfriend you’ve ever had.  And…Do I really have to pull this out?”

“I’m not in the mood, Matt,” Mello growled, “Go rub one out instead.”

“That’s not what I’m saying and you know it,” Matt stood his ground, “There’s something bothering you.  I know damn well you’re not going to tell me about it.  And you know it’s pissing me off that you’re keeping it to yourself.  So, you know what that means?”

“That you’re finally going to listen to me and fuck off?” Mello snapped.

“You leave me no choice…” Matt started walking back toward their bedroom.

And Mello continued to lay on the couch and seethe.  I don’t need someone taking over.  I don’t need anyone taking my territory.  And I don’t need to have some two bit prick thinking he can cut into my profits.  But Mello let out a heavy, exhausted sigh.  He knew he had been burning the candle at both ends.  And he knew he’d kick himself for it later, but right now, if it meant the good of his syndicate, then so be it.  What’s a little suffering in silence among fri…colleagues?  Yes.  They were merely colleagues as far as anyone, including but not limited to law enforcement, was concerned.  And now, it was whatever Matt thought he needed to do.

What am I going to do?  Before Mello could continue his spiral, Matt scooped him up off the couch, “WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING, MATT?!”

“Excuse me?” That tone…That commanding tone that Mello heard once in a blue moon…It was enough to get even Mello to bite his tongue.

“I…” Mello dropped the bitchy attitude.

“That’s better,” Matt praised, “Now, how about an apology?”

Mello’s eyes fell to the floor, “I’m sorry…”

“Very good,” Matt cradled him, “Now, here’s what we’re going to do.  I’m going to give you a bath.  I’ll feed you dinner.  And then, we’re going to go into our bedroom and I’m going to tuck you into bed.”

“But…”

“But?” Matt brought Mello into the bathroom where the bathtub was already filled with bubbles, “Mello, you think I don’t see you working your ass off?  You’re driving yourself into the ground.  And I think someone needs to have a little night off in the best way we know how.”

“Regress for a little while, go to bed, and split an edible in the morning?”

“That’s right,” Matt kissed Mello’s forehead and helped him out of his clothes, “Now, what do you want me to get for you, sweetheart?  And chocolate cake is not an option.”

“Aww…”

“I know,” Matt cradled Mello’s cheek in his palm, “It’ll be alright.  If you’re lucky, we’ll have brownies tomorrow morning.”

“Yay,” Mello managed to crack a smile.

“So,” Matt decided, “Pizza nuggies and a milkshake?”

“Yes…”

“Good,” Matt helped Mello into the water, “How’s that?  Better?”

“Yeah, a little…” Mello sunk into the bath, letting the warm water settle his aches and pains.

“You still want me make you some pizza nuggies and a milkshake?”

“Please…?”

“Ok,” Matt got up from the toilet and started heading to the kitchen.  When he came back to the bathroom, he had a plate of pizza rolls in his hand, “What do you say, Mello?”

“Do I have to?” Mello groaned.

“Yes,” Matt put his foot down, “What do you say, Mello?”

Mello knew what Matt was doing.  And he knew that when he woke up in the morning, he’d feel a million times better, “Thank you, Daddy…”

“You’re very welcome,” Matt fed Mello a singular pizza roll, “Be careful.  They’re still pretty hot.”

“You didn’t make the noises…”

“What?”

“You didn’t make the noises, Daddy,” Mello pouted, “There’s no airplane going into the hanger.”

“I’m sorry,” Matt awed, picking up another one, “Flight 322 is requesting a landing.”

“Request granted!” Mello popped his mouth open.

“Here comes the airplane…” Matt made all the airplane noises Mello could ever want.  And Mello couldn’t have been happier.  He wasn’t anticipating liking it so much.  Or that it’d make him start splashing in the bathtub.

“Alright, alright,” Matt shielded himself, “Settle down.  We’ll finish up and I’ll tuck you into bed, ok?”

“Ok.”

Matt stayed by Mello’s side, feeding him pizza rolls and giving him the occasional splash back while he got Mello clean.  By the time the water was down the drain, Matt carried Mello into the bedroom all wrapped up in a towel and gently put him down on the bed.  Mello’s pajamas had little puppies on them.  They were his favorite, although he’d never admit it outside of the four walls he and Matt called home.  But Matt crawled into bed next to him.  And without even thinking about it, Mello cuddled into Matt’s ribs.

“Daddy…?”

“Yeah, Mels?” Matt pushed Mello’s hair out of his face.

Mello let out the softest, sweetest little yawn, “Thank you.”

“For what?” Matt wondered, “For me doing something for you that I knew you weren’t going to do for yourself?  No need to thank me.  You know I’d do anything for you.  Now, I understand if you don’t want to talk about what’s bothering you.  But know that whenever you do, I’m still right here.  And I always will be.  Ok?”

“Ok,” Mello shut his eyes, “Good night, Matt.”

“Good night, Mello.  I love you.”

[unhinged-prosody]

Day Fifteen & Sixteen of NaNoWriMo 2023

Total Word count: 26740

Daily Word count: 1236 & 1726

Thoughts: I'm so tired I can't even think of something to write here. Not tired because of NaNoWriMo, mind you, but having to deal with health issues, work and family matters on top of having to write so much everyday if I want to get to 50k by November 30th is a lot. I'm going to lie down now.

[wannabemurdock]

Should’ve done this sooner, Druig

masterlist

Pairing: Druig x fem!reader

Summary: you finally make the move

Word count: 1236 words.

Contains: smut. fluff.

Notes: surprise, I ignored all my wips for this. loosely based off this ask.

Minors do not interact

Requests are closed

not my gif

“Help.” Druig's warm voice meets your ears as you open the door to find him leaning against your door frame, blood oozing out of a sizeable gash on his arm

“Jesus Christ, Druig! Again?” Your hand wraps around the wrist of his uninjured arm as you drag him inside to your bed, pushing him to sit down. Bouncing slightly as he lands, Druig looks up to you with that signature smirk on his face while he cradles his bleeding arm to his chest.

Luckily you were used to Druig’s constant injuries. For an Eternal who’s been around for god knows how long, he somehow acts like teenager doing dumb shit. You leave for only a minute to close your door and grab your first aid kit. By the time you come back, he’s shirtless and looking around your room as if it’s the first time all over again.

“Druig, please sit.” There's a slight annoyance in your voice that he doesn’t take seriously as he goes and takes his seat back on your bed. You care for him too much to turn him away. And he knows this, well and truly.

He’s such a dickhead. Fuck I love it.

“Your thoughts are loud, darling.” He whispers as if anyone else could hear him if he spoke any louder.

“Shut up.” Rolling your eyes so far back, you’re convinced you saw a glimpse of your own ass. “You’re just nosy.”

“At least I don’t ‘love it’ when I’m a ‘dickhead’.” You should be embarrassed at how he calls you out, but to be honest, you’re grateful. Maybe this will break the ice.

You’re sick of the endless dance you two have been doing since you met. You just want him. Might as well make your move, god knows he won’t.

I know you’re listening. What do you want me to think?

You busy yourself with taking care of his wound. Careful stitches and steady hands. Trying to cause the least amount of pain. Not letting your thought stray for even a moment. Even when you catch his smirk after catching him.

It’d be a real shame if you bled out.

“Would it? Seems like your life would be a little easier.” He pouts as he tilts his head. You finish bandaging him up and start cleaning the mess around the two of you.

Yeah but then you’d never get to fuck me.

He chokes, covering it with a chuckle and his signature smirk as he leans back. You’ve never managed to catch him off guard before.

“You seem to have a death wish. Or maybe you’re just always looking for a reason to see me?” You gauge his reaction before continuing with your plan. The anticipation in his eyes as they dart from your eyes to your lips tells you everything you need to know.

Getting on your knees in front of him, placing your hands on his thighs, you feel his muscles tense beneath them. You look up to meet his eyes. All his attention already on you. He doesn’t even bother to try and hide the lust swirling behind his eyes.

“I really don’t think I can deal with you teasing right now.” His words still quiet, worried that he’ll say something wrong. He’s glad you taken the leap, happy to follow your lead. He’s been desperate for something more than just your kind touch on the days he shows up injured.

Your hands cups his face before leaning up to kiss him. Every ounce of anticipation in your body is poured into this kiss. His hands grab your waist, pulling you up from the ground onto his thighs. Arms wrapping around your waist to pull you impossibly closer.

Pulling away, you begin to kiss down his neck. His soft groans fill the room. Heat spreading through your stomach at the noises.

You never expected him to be so vocal, but it spurs you on. Standing back up you pull your shirt off, with Druig following suit. you catch his eyes lingering on your bare chest before he begins to shuffle back further onto the bed. You never knew how badly you could crave his touch until you separated for barely a moment.

Climbing back onto him, chest to chest, skin pressed against skin. Heartbeats echoing so loudly it’s almost deafening. He holds your face for barely a moment, eyes meeting before pulling your back in for an breathtaking kiss. The softness of his lips are addicting, contrasting the harshness and desperation of the kiss. You subconsciously grind your hips against his. Soft moans escape your lips, one of his hands makes its way to your hips to guide your movements against him.

Your clit catching against his hard cock sends your head flying back.

“Fuck! I really need you.” He makes no effort to come up with a cocky comeback. In desperation, he tears your pants away, leaning up on your own knee, he shimmies his own down just enough for his cock to spring free.

You spit into your hand before wrapping it round him. You drag your hand along the length of his dick. His head buried in your shoulder as moans and groans freely flow from deep within his chest. One of his hands slides down from your waist and between your thighs.

Drawing tight circles on your clit as your hips grind down against him. Your body on autopilot, hand not faltering for even a moment as your end draws closer.

“Mm.. need to cum on your dick.” Your words send his head flying back against the headboard of your bed as you softly push his hand away. Stoping your own movements in the process. You once again lean up on your knees before lining him up at your entrance and lowering yourself back down again.

He’s bigger than you realise. It feels like he’s in your throat at the same time. Pleasure shooting up your spine before you even start moving. Taking a moment to adjust, your eyes run over his face. As if trying to take a photo of this moment. His eyes half lidded and filled with lust. Absolutely intoxicated by the feeling of you.

You start to fuck yourself on him. Hands behind you on his thighs as you build a steady rhythm. Your head hangs back on your shoulders as your brain is taken over by a fog of pure euphoria. His hands grip your hips as he thrusts up into you. Your brain turns to mush, your muscles no longer cooperating. Pulling you against his chest, he plants his feet against the bed before fucking up into you with fervour. Desperate to have you cum around him.

“Need you to come for me, darling.” His words making your core tighten.

You don’t realise you’re even close before a blinding heat suddenly engulfs your body, the muscles in your legs shaking as your high is extended by his thumb finding its way to your clit once again. You squeeze his cock, pushing him to his own end.

With a hard squeeze of your hips and a final thrust, warmth shoots up through your core as he fills you. His cum seeping out around his base as you bury your head in the crook of his shoulder. Rolling to the side and holding you close as your both come down for your high.

“Yeah, fuck. We should’ve done this sooner, darling.” You chuckle at his breathless words.

“You certainly have a way with words.”

[mybakubaby]

Hero Wife

I am dedicating this to @kingkatsuki she answered one of my asks about what she imagines her doing with Bakugo and I wanted to make something wholesome for her.

So here you go bestie!!

Hope you all enjoy!

Word Count: 1236

Warnings: Fluff, swearing, probably another cliché

“What the fuck are you doing? I thought laundry day was Saturday.” Katsuki stands in the doorway of your laundry room, his hero costume still on, he looks at you folding one of his shirts with a small pout.

Yes the big, muscular, pro-hero, Dynamite pouts for his wife and only his wife. Anyone else would be dead before they could live to tell the tale.

Katsuki wraps his arms around your hips, placing his head on your shoulder. “Why are you home so early?” You giggle, dropping his shirt and giving him a hug. He picks up his head and kisses your lips sweetly.

You like that he acts this sweet for you, it’s a hidden wonder just for you and no one else. “It’s the gala tonight. I thought you would be ready by now.” He kisses you again before letting you go. “I know how much you stress when it comes to these things.”

Your eyes widen at the reminder. Of course you had forgotten you’ve been busy for the past week. “I’m so sorry! I forgot all about it.” You grumble under your breath. You drop what you’re doing and walk past Katsuki to walk to your bedroom.

“We don’t have to go.” He follows you hurriedly and holds onto your hand. “I had a long day at work, resting sounds so much better than some dumb gala.” You pause in your closet holding onto an old dress.

“Katsu.” You turn your body to face him, giving him a gentle look. “I know these events are always annoying to deal with but we end up having fun with Eijiro and everyone else. Maybe we can invite everyone over for an after party.” You explain, eyes lighting up at the thought of being with your friends. “Going might be just what you need after work.”

“No, I think all I need is you Gorgeous.” He hums in your ear as he gently places his arms around your waist. You look into his eyes with a pout. “Fine. We’ll go.” He huffs and kisses the top of your head before you leave to get ready.

Your quirk gives you the ability to make inanimate objects do whatever you want them to do. It could be strong enough for you to be a hero if you trained it to but ever since you were young you loved fashion. You got into UA with the support class and quickly became good friends with Mei Hatsume. She later introduced you to midoriya and he introduced you to your husband.

After less than an hour of making a new dress you’re dressed and ready for the gala. “You look as beautiful as the day I first met you.” You turn around at the sound of Katsuki's voice. “That’s not a lie either. I thought you were so beautiful when we met but I had a reputation to keep. Who knew you would make me so much better though.”

“We aren’t staying home.” You hum knowing your husband's antics. “Flattery won’t get you anywhere.” You giggle and walk past him for the door.

“Worth the shot.” He joked and followed you out.

At the gala you held onto Katsuki’s arm smiling for the photographers that were hired for the event. “Y/N looking stunning as always.” Kirishima complimented as he walked up to the two of you. “I’m still surprised you convinced her to marry you.” He joked with his friend that was holding your waist protectively.

“Thank you Eiji.” You blush softly. “What table are you at tonight? Same as always?”

He nods and poses for a photographer that got his attention. “It’s like the entire class is divided and stuck together. They do the same with the old guys like Aizawa is sitting with Midnight.” He shakes his head lightly. “Denki said you guys are having a party after?” He said quickly changing subjects like normal.

“We aren’t, it was a thought but we have decided we aren’t going to.” Katsuki grumbles above you. He pats your hip and lets go of it. “Let’s move closer to the table. I know these freaks are dying to get a picture of the three of us together.”

Hours into the gala, after dinner has been served and eaten, Midoriya shows up next to your chair. “Hey Deku. How are you?” You say with a bright smile. You used to be close to the green haired man but after UA the two of you haven't been the same.

“I’m good.” He smiles and looks behind you. Making sure Katsuki wasn’t paying attention. “We have everything all set up if you’re ready.”

Nodding, you stand up gently brushing past Katsuki as you leave your table. “Where are you going?” He asks you, holding your hand carefully. You know how much he hates being alone during these stuffy events.

“Don’t worry I’ll be back.” You give him the widest smile and carefully brush your fingers through his hair.

You walk with Deku to the stage, your nerves are all over the place. You can talk in front of millions of people and it doesn't phase you so you aren't worried about the crowd of heroes you’ll be speaking in front of. What you're nervous about is how your husband will react seeing you onstage and how nervous you are for his reaction to what you’re going to be saying.

“Good evening everyone. Some of you may not know me unless you’re close to me and my husband. So for a short introduction, I am Y/N Bakugo. I am a costume designer for some of you actually and design the costumes for incoming hero students at UA. But enough about me.” During your whole introduction you knew Katsuki was staring at you the whole time even though you didn’t look over at him. Finally you make eye contact and smile lovingly. “I came up here to actually talk about my husband, you all won’t believe what I talk about here but that’s ok I’ll be fine keeping it my little secret with him and I. So the first thing about my beautiful Katsu is how we met. He was not a gentleman and treated me the way he treated his best friends. I wasn’t having it so I ignored him until he properly introduced himself. I guess I was too great not to talk to because he came up to me at a party and showed me his sweeter side. We’ve been inseparable ever since and that sweet side is reserved for me, and hopefully our child will get some of that sweet side.”

You pause for a second to let what you had just said seep in and for you to hold back tears. You look to the side and nod at Deku who had a remote for the screen behind you. He turned it on and it showed a picture of the ultrasound you had the week before. “I’m due in June. I should also clarify that I am announcing it tonight because there are no reporters tonight and if this becomes public before I make it public then I’m blaming one of you heroes that is here tonight.” You walk off the stage and back to Katsuki.

“Can we go home to celebrate?” He asks you when you get back to your table an unshed tear in his eye.

[murdickdocked]

Hey, could I request some riddler fluff where he comforts his s/o reader when they’re feeling sucky 🥰 love your writing, and thanks in advance!!

Edward is a sweetheart who's never been comforted and never felt like he had to comfort anyone, until you. He's a lil confused, but he has the spirit. Hope you enjoy!!

|| Clueless || The Riddler / Edward Nashton x Reader

Word Count: 1236

Warnings: N/A

You’ve been alone for God knows how long. The day feels like it’s doing everything it can to be against you. It hurts to be this way, and you can’t help yourself but cry against the couch cushions; the tv on a random channel as background white noise, a reminder that the world still exists while you wallowed in your own void. You felt so off that you never noticed your boyfriend enter your apartment.

Edward noted the cold atmosphere the moment he came home from work, he removed his jacket, hooking it behind the door. It worried him, this feeling. Usually, when he comes home, he would feel happy, if not, relieved to be in a safe space again, away from everything that didn’t understand him. He looked around the living room, spying you on the couch. You were curled up in a ball, a sniffling mess with closed eyes and a shaking body as you tried to sway yourself for comfort. His mouth forms into a deep frown, he wants to come closer, brush your hair away from sticking on your skin, but he couldn’t move his feet.

In your 4 months of dating, he has never seen you this upset. Anger, a moderate amount of sadness, a little amount of grief, he understood, he was there. This, however, was not something he was familiar of, not on the comforting side anyway.

Edward’s mind run with words he wants to say, ‘Are you okay, dear?’ ‘Do you want to be alone?’ ‘Would you like to be comforted?’ So many words he could say, but also couldn’t. He could feel his mouth running dry, his mind told him to shut up, you might make it worse. He didn’t want you to feel worse.

Instead, he padded over to the kitchen counter, pulling out a cereal box— the one you enjoy most in particular. Taking out a bowl and a gallon of milk, he mixed them all together. He notices that your sniffling lessened and turned his body to look at your spot. He sees you staring at him with curious, red-rimmed eyes, your head slightly tilted down as if a silent question. Edward smiles shyly at you, he doesn’t know how to word it but… he wants to take care of you.

He walks over to you, bowl of cereal and spoon in hand. He puts it down on the middle of the table in front of you and sat on the end of the couch, the opposite side of where you sat. You stopped your swaying, your attention fully on him. Edward cleared his throat before speaking, his voice hushed, his own vulnerability showing.

“I thought that maybe you’d like something sweet…” You notice his palms pushing against his pants, grounding his hands against his thigh as if to stabilize himself. He mumbled quietly to himself, staring distantly into the bowl before shaking his head lightly, turning to you with a slight smile, innocuous and loving. Edward nods his head towards the bowl, “Eat up, then you can tell me what happened, please.”

You nodded, grabbing the bowl and eating in silence. You watched him from the corner of your eye and you see him inch closer to you every so often. He was mostly looking at his lap, where his hands would fidget restlessly, eyes sometimes flickering up to your face before coming down to his hands again.

After a moment of comfortable silence (from your part, anyway), you scooted over to him, leaning into his side. Edward’s tensed body relaxes into you, he wraps a hesitant arm around your body, sighing in content as he pressed his cheek against your hair, turning his face to kiss your forehead. His other arm rose to have his thumb stroking your cheek; the gentle motion from his warm hands making you sigh against him, burying your face into his chest affectionately.

“I wish I knew what to do.” His warm breath wafts over you, you nuzzled into him even more as your arms come together behind him in an embrace, “I wish I knew how to comfort you.”

“You already are, Eddie.” You angled your face upwards to give his neck a quick kiss, before snuggling against it, breathing in his scent. A faint smell of sweat and green apples.

He could feel his insides melt as he soaked in your hold, you were a comfort to each other.

“Can I ask what happened?” He asked, his voice muffled against your hair.

You shook your head, closing your eyes and sighing, “It doesn’t matter anymore, you’re here now.”

His hand moves to grasp your chin between his fingers, his lips kissed your temple and you just want to lean into him and have him with you forever.

“Don’t be like that, of course it matters. Talk to me, please.” He honestly does not know what he’s doing, but so far, he doesn’t think he’s doing anything wrong.

“It’s okay, Eddie, thank you for being here with me.” Your tone was a little irritated, making Edward nod in understanding. ‘Okay,’ he thought, ‘It’s okay, I love you.’ He can’t bring himself to say it, he’s not sure what to say.

“Ask me a riddle?”

He perked up, looking down at you in surprise, “a riddle?”

“Distract me, ask me a riddle.”

He lets a smile slip, leaning down to give a chaste kiss on your cheek, and one on your lips, simply sweet and loving.

“Okay,” He tilts his head, staring off in a daze as he always did when thinking deeply to himself, eyebrows furrowed and bottom lip in a pout. It’s cute. Your lips quirk up in a fond smirk.

“Pronounced as a letter, written with three. I have a twin whom I cannot see. What am I?”

He looks down upon you, his gaze warm and adoring. The arm wrapped around you pulled you closer, he adjusted himself into the couch, pulling his legs up so that you would be seated on his lap, you leaned down and laid on his chest, thinking while you do.

“It’s an Eye, isn’t it?”

“Ding-ding!” You chuckled; you loved your Eddie like this. “My smart girl, how you hold my heart!”

You rolled your eyes as his hand closes around one of yours and brought them to his lips, grazing them against your knuckles. This was the Edward you fell in love with, he was silly in his own way, albeit, he was a tough shell to crack at first, but as you got to know him, he was lovely, and he was yours.

Seeing you smiling and entertaining him made him feel warm inside. He didn’t know how he did it, but he did. He wished he could just be here forever.

He asked riddles one after another until he sees you blink blearily. He pulled your head against his chest and sighed as he felt you kiss his exposed collar. Leaning his head back in a more comfortable position, he looked off to the window. Dark was the night, and the symbol of hope shone in the sky as if it was another full moon. He gazed into it before he turns to your sleeping body. ‘I’ll be like him’ he promised himself, he promised you, ‘I won’t let you be hurt like this anymore.’

Edward closed his eyes, and let himself drift to sleep.

[princess-of-riviaa]

Punishment

Kinktober Day 5 Prompt: Facesitting/eating out

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Female Reader

Summary: Steve decides to give you a surprising type of punishment, but it’s just as effective.

Author’s Note: As promised in this post, I am writing all the kinktober prompts that I didn't have time to finish for October.

Warning(s): overstimulation, facesitting, riding, multiple orgasms, dominant Steve, spanking, bratty reader, aftercare, fluffy ending (who knew I could write fluff?), quick story that wasn’t beta’d, forgive any grammatical errors

Word Count: 1236

You’d been bad. Running your mouth all morning. Curious about how long it would take to get a rise out of him. The answer: 13 hours. As soon as he gave you his third warning and you disobeyed it, he forced you into the bedroom.

You’d been expecting something a little more… painful. Denied orgasms for a week maybe? Or watching him jerk off while you can’t touch him? Ohh. That would have been a hard one to endure—and a perfect punishment. But instead, he had chosen to have you sit on his face. You hadn’t understood it at first. Why would pleasing you be a punishment? But after the second orgasm, you figured it out.

“Fuck, Steve,” you cried out as he continued to move his tongue against your core in an unrelenting pace. Your vision still blurred from the intense orgasm you’d just experienced.

He loosened his grip on your thighs for just a second. The loud slap of the spank he brought down on your ass echoed throughout the room. It was hard enough that you whimpered. You knew why he had done that instantly. Pointing out your mistake.

“I’m sorry, sir,” you rushed out breathlessly.

His hand returned to your thigh, pressing you as tight against his face as you could possibly be. You had no idea how he managed to breathe with the way he was suffocating himself between your legs. But you couldn’t find it in yourself to care about the physics of it all, especially when he moved his tongue like—

Fuck.

You were going to cum again, you could feel it in your belly. That heat continued to rise. Pleasure made your entire body tingle and your brain go foggy until all you could think about was the way his tongue perfectly swirled around your clit—

You moaned as you came for the third time in less than ten minutes. This orgasm made your entire body shake. You swear you felt time stop for a second as your vision went white. All that existed was this heat burning through you and the way you struggled to breathe as your toes curled with so much pleasure that you didn’t know what to do with yourself.

And still, Steve’s pace never slowed.

“I can’t, sir,” you whimpered. “I can’t take anymore. Please.”

He mumbled something against your core that sounded like you should have thought of that before you mouthed off to me. The rumble of his voice vibrated against your core, making your back arch as you clutched onto those blonde locks.

He’d grown his beard out in the last few months. You’d thought it handsome, that it made the star-spangled man look more rustic. It revealed a hint of his darker side. And it was a weapon in the bedroom that he used as much as he possibly could. It scrapped against your thighs now, burning them and no doubt turning them a bright pink. Your skin had grown sensitive to it about thirty seconds in, but now it just added to your pleasure somehow.

“Please, sir,” you begged as you rode his face in an way that you couldn’t control. Your body responded to the overstimulus in a way you couldn’t control. “I’ll be good, I’ll be so good, I’ll be perfect for you.” Tears ran down your cheeks now. You were so overwhelmed by the relentless strokes of his tongue that you didn’t know what to do with yourself.

He hummed against your folds, only sending another blast of heat through you.

“Please—I can’t take anymore.” But it was like he couldn’t hear you. He was as relentless with your pussy as he was with any criminal that he faced off with.

He pushed his tongue inside you, twirling it in such a way that it put all of your toys to shame. It was too much, too good too soon—

“Oh!” you cried out as your hips moved against his face. Your mouth fell open in a silent scream as you came for the fourth time. God, this was such a terrible, blissful torture. You were past the point of words; you couldn’t remember how to speak.

He squeezed your thighs tighter, his fingers digging into your ass so tightly it verged on painful. That, mixed with the pleasurable burn of his beard between your thighs, and the everlasting strokes of his tongue against you threw you into a fifth orgasm just a few seconds later.

When you remembered how to breathe, you realized that your cheeks were soaking with tears. This will never end, you thought, and it was as terrifying as it was tempting. The pleasure was good yet so bad. You were desperate for him to ease up on you yet never wanted him to stop.

“I-I’m sorry, s-sir,” you whimpered, struggling to get the words out.

And then, just like that, he stopped. The moment he released your legs you fell to the side; the comforting bedsheets cool against your back. Tears soaked your face as you continued to release quiet sobs and whimpers.

Within the span of a second, he switched from angry to soothing. He turned on his side to look at you, gently wiping your tears away. “I’ll be right back,” he assured you before disappearing from your line of vision. You curled up on yourself as your body continued to shudder from your endless pleasure. You’d never cum more than twice at one time, and now he had just made you cum four times in less than ten minutes.

As promised, he returned a minute later with a warm, wet towel. His hands were gentle as he spread your thighs just enough to clean your soaked pussy. You shrunk back from his touch. It was involuntary; you were too sensitive to be touched right now.

“Just let me clean you up and then I’ll be done,” he promised in that soft, soothing voice that made you absolutely melt.

You relaxed long enough for him to clean your thighs and between your sensitive folds. He brought the towel back to the bathroom before returning to the bed, lying on his side beside you.

“What do you need?” he asked calmly. “I can give you space if you want that.”

You shook your head. “I just want you to hold me.”

So he did. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you against his chest. Your whimpers slowed as his warmth wrapped around you. He rubbed your back in light strokes. Your eyes felt heavy as you relaxed against him more and more with each passing moment.

“I’m sorry,” you squeaked out.

“I needed to show you why you shouldn’t talk back to me.” He released a heavy sigh. “You know what I always say.”

“’Bad girls get punished,’” you quoted. He said it so often you were certain that it was his favorite thing to say.

As he continued to rub your back, he brought his other hand to your head, rubbing his fingers through your hair. You closed your eyes as you basked in his soothing comfort.

“You’re normally so good for me,” he pointed out. “What changed?”

You mumbled sleepily, “I missed you. You’ve been gone so long with your new movie. I just… wanted some attention.”

He said something assuring and apologetic, but his words faded into the distance as you fell asleep in his arms.

[hollybell51]

Sleepyhead

Series masterlist, masterpost

Thomas x fem!Reader

Maze Runner (2009 novel - James Dashner, 2014 film - Wes Ball)

Word count: 1236

Summary: after a really great time the night before, it’s time for you and Thomas to face that maybe the acoustics of the Glade are not ideal for couples. 

Content: implied sexual content (so heavily implied it’s not even “implied” it’s just not explicitly written), Thomas being a clingy little shit, fluff, morning after fluff, bad dialogue. 

Notes: I actually have nothing to say for myself, enjoy some semi-domestic fluff. 

You woke to pale morning light streaming through the trees. You could feel a stick poking into your ribs, and a stone under your thigh. Beneath your cheek, Thomas’s chest rose and fell evenly – he was still asleep.

You lay there for a minute, then the discomfort of the stick and the stone became too much and you shifted, trying as hard as you could not to wake your sleeping boyfriend. Your whole body felt heavy and warm, and if it weren’t for the stupid sticks and stones on the ground you could have stayed just draped over Thomas’s chest forever. He was solid, comforting, and after last night... 

“Hey.”

You tilted your head up, a dopey smile still plastered over your face. You weren’t careful enough, it seemed. “Morning sleepyhead,” you whispered, placing a kiss on Thomas’s cheek, “enjoy yourself?”

“I’m enjoying myself right now, with you.” He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close against himself and kissing your forehead.

“You’re sweet,” you laughed, wriggling around in his arms to look at him.

“You’re sweet,” he countered. 

You didn’t really have anything to reply to that, so instead you just sat up, ignoring his mumbled protest at the loss of contact between you. It didn’t last long, however, as he took your hands and sat up too, gently pressing his lips to your own. His chest was warm against yours, his hands soft where they flitted over your arms and shoulders, tangling in your hair as he tried to deepen it. 

“We can’t stay here forever,” you whispered, pulling away. 

“Not even for a little bit?”

“It’s been a little bit already, look at the sun!”

He groaned, dropping his forehead onto your shoulder. 

“Come on you sook,” you laughed, slapping his back lightly. “Get off, I’ve got stuff to do. And so do you.”  

“Are you stuff?” he asked, still with his arms around your waist.

“Maybe later I will be, but not first thing in the morning.” 

“What’ve you got against first thing in the morning?” 

“Nothing,” you shrugged, “but we can’t spend all day just...” You trailed off. Last night had been the first time you’d actually gone all the way with him, and while you’d talked about it before, you weren’t really sure how to use your words around the subject. What were you supposed to call it? Having sex? Making love? Fucking? Screwing? 

“Fine,” he sighed, saving you from having to come up with something. “I guess you’re right.”

“I’m always right,” you said, looking around for your clothes. You spotted your bra and shirt a few meters away, and your pants and underpants not far from them. You got up, pulling them on and chucked Thomas’s clothes to him. “Where are my… ah.” You went over to your boots and socks, pulling them on and doing up the laces.

“Ready to face the music?” Thomas asked, standing and buttoning up his pants.

“No,” you groaned, “we are never going to hear the end of this from Minho.”

“Maybe he’s already gone,” Thomas said hopefully, taking your hand in his and picking up the blankets.

“I hope so.”

 You dropped the blankets at the edge of the Deadheads where you usually slept, and made your way to the kitchen. You’d tried to go as far away from the others as you possibly could, and you both really had made an effort to stay quiet, but who could blame you for Thomas being so damn good, and who could blame him for liking the sound of you moaning his name? 

“Hey, Fry,” you greeted the cook, leaning against the bench, “want any help?”

“Yeah,” he said, “but wash your hands first.”

You did as he said, then dried them off on a tea-towel.

“You can make sandwiches for the runners,” he told you, “bread’s in that cupboard and there’s cheese and vegetables too.”

“Any requests?” you asked Thomas.

“Um…” he thought for a moment, then pointed at the cucumber and tomatoes. “Those ones?” He smiled hopefully at you.

“Cucumber and tomatoes. Ok,” you grabbed a knife from the drawer, “here we go.”

“So,” Frypan said eventually, grinning at you, “you two have fun last night?”

You slipped, almost cutting your finger, and Thomas choked on the water he was drinking. You knew the question was coming eventually. You had had a lot of fun, and you’d even joked about the other Gladers as you’d lain together under your blankets in the afterglow, but still you found that you had no way to handle the gentle ribbing that was surely about to ensue. 

“We were sleeping,” you lied, concentrating hard on the tomato you were cutting.

“Oh really?” he continued, “So you’re gonna tell me it was the Beetle Blades in the Deadheads that screamed out “bloody hell, Thomas”?”

“Definitely a Beetle Blade,” Thomas said, and you felt your face heat up. You had, in fact, said that, but you wouldn’t have called it “screaming.”

“You sure?” Frypan asked, “Because it sure sounded a lot like (Y/N), your girlfriend.”

“It was a Beetle Blade,” you insisted, “no doubt about it.”

“What’s this about Beetle Blades?” 

You looked up from the tomato to see Newt standing next to Thomas, glancing between the three of you.

“I was just saying how a Beetle Blade allegedly screamed out “bloody hell Thomas” in (Y/N)’s voice last night,” Frypan said, grinning down at the food he was preparing.

“It was definitely a Beetle Blade,” Thomas maintained, taking another sip of water.

“Interesting.” Newt rubbed a hand across his chin, a furrow appearing between his brows. “I could have sworn I heard someone yell “oh god (Y/N) I’m gonna come” in Thomas’s voice, but I guess if we have Beetle Blades imitating (Y/N)…”

Again, Thomas choked on his water.

“Damn Beetle Blades,“ you said, trying to hide your embarrassment. Once again, that was something that Thomas had said, but you didn’t think it was that loud. Maybe sound carried more than you thought, something you hadn’t had the foresight to actually check. It was probably something to do with the walls. 

“Beetle Blades?” You were joined by Minho, and you looked away, moving on to a cucumber.

“Yeah,” Frypan explained, “they were imitating (Y/N) and Thomas last night.”

“Ah,” he said, “that would explain a lot. I assume these Beetle Blades were in the Deadheads?”

“Guys,” Thomas said, “stop it. Just let the Beetle Blades have their fun, ok?”

Frypan put down his knife. “Well, when the Beetle Blades interrupt everyone else’s sleep and leave them with rather disturbing mental images, we have to do something about said Beetle Blades.”

You copied the action. “Look, I’m sure the Beetle Blades are very sorry that they disturbed your sleep, but they probably just underestimated the acoustics of the walls, maybe got caught up in the heat of the moment. I’m sure they’ll be much quieter next time they decide to imitate me and Thomas, maybe they’ll even do a sound check and find somewhere that nobody can hear anything from?” You glanced at Thomas with the last remark, one eyebrow raised in a question. 

“That’s smart,” he said. “Hear that, Beetle Blades? Take notes from (Y/N).” 

“Well,” said Newt, “I suppose we should all just accept the Beetle Blades’s apologies and move on.”

“An excellent idea,” you sighed, relieved.

[violettduchess]

Dear Anon-

I accidentally deleted your ask but luckily I DID take a screenshot. I haven't really thought about taking requests because I know with real life, it would take me some time to get to it but your caring for your friend and asking for something to help her feel better was really sweet. So I did it!

I hope you both like it!

Keywords: first kiss

Pairing: Gilbert von Obsidian / MC

Word Count: 1236

Its hard to categorize this. I'd say it veers towards spicy angst.

The night is angry. The sky flares with white hot lightning, raging against the light of the moon, now imprisoned by black clouds. Thunder booms, rattling the earth, and the wind whips through the trees, strangling thinner branches and ripping leaves off by the stems, scattering them like drops of blood.

But you aren’t afraid. Storms have always meant an appreciation of being safe and warm indoors, of curling up with a book and candlelight and allowing the sounds and words to carry you somewhere far away, to travel out of the moment on the winds and be somewhere else.

A glance at the clock tells you the rest of the palace should be asleep. It’s close to two in the morning, an hour folded deep within night’s arms. You slide out of bed, forgoing slippers or shoes for the sake of quiet. Yes, the storm is raging but who knows if it would be enough to cover the sound of footsteps, however cautious you may be.

There is no question where you are headed. The carpet is soft underfoot, the corridors dark but you know the way. You could do it blindfolded. Shadows accompany you as you make your way to the library.

The heavy wooden door opens silently. You step in and feel the way peace sinks into you, relaxing your shoulders and the tension in your neck. You are where you belong, surrounded by the things that bring you joy. You are safe.

The book from earlier that day is right where you left it. You know Chevalier hasn’t been here or he would have put it back. Or chastised you. Likely both. You pick it up and along with the silver chamberstick, head for the cushioned velvet window seat. You curl up, leaning against the sliver of wall, only glass and lattice between you and the wild winds, the howling and snarling storm.

You reach up, pressing your hand against the cold glass. Your book lays forgotten in your lap. You haven’t even lit the chamberstick. Your eyes close, your hand pressing harder. The storm feels like it’s calling to you. Promising you something. Digging into the trenches of your heart, trying to unearth hidden secrets. Speaking to your very soul. 

So enrapt are you, that you don’t notice the library door open or the man who steps inside, closing it behind his back in one fluid movement. You don’t notice the way he pauses when he sees you or the way he then remains perfectly still, observing before making his way purposefully over, his footfall breaking your reverie.

As if in slow motion you turn your head away from the window and are met with the sight of Prince Gilbert von Obsidian standing right in front of the window seat. Gone is the heavy black cloak, the opulent cane. He is however still swathed in black, as if the shadows themselves have wrapped themselves around him, lovingly.

Startled, you jump up from the window seat, a reflex. You don’t want him towering over you like that. But standing does nothing but bring you even closer to him, close enough to see how dark his eye looks in the night-soaked library, dark as Shiraz wine. 

You’ve never been this close to him before. Your gaze has always been drawn to him, no matter whether in a ballroom or a dining hall but you’ve avoided being close to him. A few polite exchanges is all….

Exchanges, if you’re honest, that have replayed themselves over and over in your mind, in the dark, in your dreams. 

He tilts his head, skin pale as cream, hair dark as smoke. 

“What a late hour for you to be up and hopping about.” His voice is silk ribbons and velvet and a blade’s edge. You could wrap it around your wrists and throat, drape yourself in it, hurt yourself with it.

You refuse to move, squaring your shoulders. His eye drops to the bare skin of your neck, your arms. Outside the wind howls.

“The same could be said of you.” No titles, no formality. The hour, the storm, the intimacy of the dark have stripped them away, burned you down to your essence, bare to him.

He breathes in and his eye closes for a moment. When he opens it again, he looks intrigued.

“Most everyone here in Rhodolite stinks of roses. But not you. You’re….different.” His gaze runs over your face, almost palpable. You feel the way he takes in the lines of your jaw, the curve of your lips, the way your lashes frame your eyes. In front of him you feel diaphanous, every thin layer of yourself easily discernible to that eye.

A loud crack of thunder shakes the palace.

You jump and his hands come up instinctively, fingers curling around your upper arm. His touch is cool.

His lips lift in an amused smile. “Afraid of the storm, Häschen?”

You turn your head to look at the window again, at the rain lashing against it, the dark, distant shapes bending to its will. Your heart thunders in time as you turn back to face him.

“Afraid of it?” You shake your head, loose hair brushing against your cheek, his hands. “I’m not afraid of it, Gilbert. I savor it.”

That word hangs from your lips, ripples through the space between you. He draws in a short breath, as if stung. His grip on your arms tightens…and then his mouth is on yours. Hungry. As if he wants to taste what you just said, swallow it for himself. You find your fingers curling into the soft black of his clothing, unafraid of the tornado of want that his kiss unleashes inside you, smashing through all your doubt and concern and questions. You meet his hunger with your own, body pressing up against his, unable to stop yourself. Irresistible. Lightening and copper.

Only another crash of thunder, wild enough to rattle glass, is enough to shatter the unexpected haze of want. You both break contact at the same time. There is no satisfied smirk on his kiss-bruised lips. No knowing arch of brow. There is only surprise and hunger and need. Your arms ache with the desire to reach out and pull him back, to taste him again. You aren’t aware of how hard you’re breathing, your lungs struggling to find room for the oxygen it needs and the fire inside you burning it all away.

Gilbert von Obsidian lifts his hand, then lowers it, his fingers curling into a tight fist. He is the first to compose himself, ever a master of control, except for just now, with you. Inside he’s as rattled as the window panes.

It’s too dangerous. All of it. Your secret role as Belle, your duty to Rhodolite. You can’t do this. You can’t. You can’t.

This jumpstarts your sense of place and time and purpose. Your muttered apology is lost to the sound of rain as you rush past him, ignoring the brush of his hand on your waist, the call of your name. You run, through the dark, until you are back in the safety of your room.

Panting, you lean your back against the door.

Outside the storm wails, ever onward.

Inside, your heart is its own tempest, howling in frustration and fear and fervor.

What have you done?

[igot-the-juice]

Mutterseelenallein (Otto Octavius/Fem!Reader)

Angst

Summary: Reader has stuck with Otto Octavius since before his transformation/accident, and continues to do so even afterwards. But the stress of it all finally gets to her.

Word Count: 1236

Warnings: Angst, implied suicidal thoughts/attempt

What once was a bright star now began to die in the hands of its creator. Dizzy. Lost. Swaying back and forth every which way, tossed and turned, lifted and slammed back into the ground that she had to constantly pull herself back up from.

She sat on a small wooden stool, hands folded in her lap with a defeated slouch as she stared at the working man. A blank expression rested upon her face, watching his hands carefully tinker as sparks reflected and bounced off of his goggles. She would have been proud if not for the circumstances.

His whole demeanor had changed. It was night and day. The soft, thoughtful man she once knew was now just a shell for the parasites on his back to use of their own will. In rare moments she saw a familiar glimmer in his eyes, but it faded so quickly that she wasn’t even sure if it was ever truly there.

“I can’t!”

“You can. I know you can.”

“But what if I hurt you?!”

“You won’t hurt me, dear. You need to trust them.” Otto chuckled at the woman in front of him. She moved to a stance so she could throw the ball he had given her, and even though she trusted his work the thought of throwing a ball directly at his face made her stomach quench. In a moment of bravery she threw it with all of the might she had, the ball speeding towards Otto until an actuator slung its way around him to catch it mere inches away.

There was a pause. Then the two looked at each other and suddenly cheered. She ran her way over to Otto and threw herself onto him in excitement.

“It works great - they work great!”

“They sure do!” Otto laughed, voice muffled in her hair. “Quick, let’s see what else they can do!”

The woman bit down on the inside of her cheek as her waterline began to overflow. She rubbed her hands along her thighs and sniffed.

“Um, Otto?” She barely spoke. “Can I step out for a minute?” He stalled his movements in thought, then grunted. It was enough of an answer to get her to stand up.

“Don’t be too long.” With a nod she exited the rundown building, a cool breeze brushing her cheeks as she closed in on herself. She walked to the edge of the dock and stared down at her reflection with a knowing look. The longer she stared the more lost she became.

Eyes squinted shut with pursed lips she shook in an effort not to cry. Not to break. Not until her body couldn’t handle it. Not until she fell to her knees. Not until that very moment when it finally happened.

Everything seemed to collapse as she took in a trembling, uneasy breath. A silent cry. Trying to stay quiet, what would be wailing came out as a pathetic whine. The hold on her clothes turned her knuckles white, knees buzzing with pain from their impact with the concrete beneath her. Drops landed softly in the water below to distort her reflection.

It all seemed to move slower once she opened her eyes. The sound of her heartbeat flooded her ears. The birds grew quiet. The wind stilled. She leaned closer to the water, hand outreached to come into contact with it. The colder temperature numbed the tips of her fingers as she grew braver with her cries.

Her thoughts ran faster than she could handle as her hand sunk in further. Further to her elbow as she leaned forward off of the heels of her feet. Her breath stilled. The hand that kept her from falling slowly lost its grip.

“(Y/N)!” The bellowing voice startled her, pushing her head first into the water. An actuator grabbed hold of her shirt before her lower half could reach, her head and torso completely soaked in the freezing water when it brought her back up to the wood of the dock. “Have you lost your mind?!” Otto slid out of his trench coat and wrapped her up, ushering her back into the old warehouse. “Imagine what would’ve happened if I wasn’t there!”

He watched (Y/N)’s shivering form incredulously, confused and frustrated with what he saw. It made him feel something he hadn’t felt since the accident. Something he never wished to feel ever again.

He was scared.

“Nothing would be different.” (Y/N) whispered in response as Otto paced. He snapped his head to look at her, seeing her staring at the floor.

“Nothing would be different?” Otto spoke gently, painfully. And it grew louder. “Nothing would be different - are you hearing yourself, (Y/N)?!”

“Just fine, Otto!” She rasped in anguish. The flood gates reopened with a new wave of emotions. “I said ‘nothing would be different’!” She gasped for breath and ran a hand through her dripping hair, frantic. “I’m just a doll to you! Something for you to look at, to have to say you have it even when you don’t need it! You don’t need me, Otto.” She watched as he fumed, face growing red.

“I do.”

“Why? How?” (Y/N) challenged, stepping closer to the taller man who remained silent. “You don’t know?” She laughed hysterically through her tears. “You don’t know?! After all we’ve been through, Otto, you don’t know?!”

For the first time since he changed, he was stunned. He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know what to think. The voices in his head battled for dominance through the confusion, his own gaining what little upperhand he had. (Y/N) took notice, voice softer.

“I came back for you, Otto.” Her eyes glistened as they looked up at him, glazed. “I came back for you and you just cast me aside like some stranger. And even then I kept coming back. Isn’t that enough?”

“My dear, I -“ Otto took a deep breath, the voices the quietest they have been since they started. Everything caught up to him. Everyone he injured, carelessly threw around, stepped on. It broke his heart knowing his own (Y/N) had been involved. He pulled her into him with a hand rested protectively over the back of her head. She held onto him as if her life depended on it, finally sobbing into his chest.

“I just wanted to be important…”

“Hush, now. You’re the most important thing to me, (Y/N).” His own eyes began to water. “I’m sorry for everything I’ve put you through, my dear.” A tear slid down his cheek. “I’m sorry - I’m so sorry.” He dropped to his knees, arms wrapped around her waist with his face buried in her stomach. “They won’t leave me alone. I can’t stand it - the voices! I can’t tell which ones are my own anymore, I don’t mean to hurt you or anyone, I just - I can’t -“

“Otto?” He looked up at her, melting at the sight of her adoring gaze. “It’s going to be okay. Right?” She wasn’t sure if she was trying to reassure herself or the man in front of her at that point, but when he nodded she knew things would get better. It was just a matter of time.

She joined him on the floor and the two of them shared the other’s tears, tied up in each other.

[1-imaginary-girl]

Hello! Worry not about my previous request, I understand, it's all fine. ^.^

Still, I /crave/ Tenth Doctor!fluff, so what about... A Reader stubbornly refusing to go to sleep because they are busy reading/drawing/scrolling down Tumblr (Oops, that one is me :p)

And the Doctor tries to convince them because he cares of the Reader? ^^"

Late Night

Tenth Doctor x Reader

Summary: The reader stays up a little too late which concerns the Doctor. He tries to convince you to get some rest. Reader is gender neutral.

Warnings: None, pure fluff!

Word Count: 1236

A/N: This is my first request and my first Doctor Who fanfic! I hope you like it @sherazyjade . If anyone else wants to submit a request, please feel free to do so!

Your pencil runs furiously across the paper in front of you as you work on your drawing. An idea came into your mind during your latest trip with the Doctor and you had to bring it to life. You know you're working your pencil down to its eraser stub but you can’t stop now.

You're sitting at a desk in your room made by the one and only TARDIS. A low light illuminates your paper and the only sound that fills the room is your pencil scratching the page. You struggle to keep your eyes open as the paper becomes blurry and you have to blink furiously to bring it back into focus.

Living in the TARDIS has screwed up your concept of time. You can’t tell if it’s day or night because technically it’s neither and both. There’s no window to bring in the sunlight or transition into stars so sometimes it’s hard to know when to end your day when it all feels the same. The only sign that time has passed is your exhausted body which you are currently fighting against.

You hear a knock at your door and almost don’t hear it, so engrossed in your work. But you do, and knowing who it is you say, “Come in.”

You hear the door open but don’t turn your head to acknowledge your visitor. “Y/N?” the Doctor says as he enters, his footsteps echoing in the empty room. “I saw the light coming from your door. I thought you said you were going to bed?”

“I was going to, but then I had to get out this drawing idea,” you respond. Once an idea comes into your mind, you’re worried your brain will become crowded with other thoughts and you’ll lose your grip on it. Your pencil never stops moving. “Once I’m done, then I can sleep.”

There's a brief silence before the Doctor says, “Okay…but you should really get some rest, love.” The Doctor often worries over you and your human needs. His idea of humans is that they’re fragile so he makes sure you take care of yourself. I always reassure him that I can handle myself. After all, I’ve been human my whole life. Still, his concern is touching.

“Don’t worry, I’m almost done,” you say.

Another silence. You can tell he wants to try to convince you more but doesn’t want to push you. “Alright. Good night then.”

“Good night.” Knowing you won’t take your eyes off the paper, the Doctor exits the room.

It becomes harder and harder to stay awake but you refuse to give in before you get this idea onto the page. It started out as just a rough sketch of the idea, but the more details that came into your mind the more you had to keep going.

Your head starts to feel heavier than a rock and you have to keep snapping your neck back to keep your head in place. But after a while, it becomes too hard, and you give in. Your head falls and hits the table.

However, the noise startles you and you wake yourself back up. You panic when you realize your pencil had still been on the paper and you accidentally drew a line through your work. You curse and try your best to fix it. You know the smart thing to do would be to sleep as your body is trying to signal to you, but you’re too afraid of losing the details in your head.

You don’t register your door opening or the Doctor re-entering your room. He sighs and says, “Y/N?” Not expecting him, you jump in surprise, finally causing you to tear your eyes away. You look to see it’s only the Doctor and place a hand over your racing heart.

“Jesus Doctor! You nearly gave me a heart attack,” you say, sighing in relief as you look at the apologetic figure before you.

“Sorry. I tried to knock but you weren’t answering,” he says.

“Really? I must not have heard you,” you say before you spin around and return to your work. “I told you I’d sleep when I was finished.”

“That was over an hour ago.” You stop drawing and look at him with furrowed eyebrows. An hour? It had only felt like a few minutes.

“Huh,” you say. “Well anyhow, I still haven’t finished.”

The Doctor sighs and pushes his lips together. “I really think you should get some sleep.”

“I can’t stop drawing yet,” you say, eyes staring at your unfinished artwork.

The Doctor walks closer to you and hovers over your shoulder. “I don’t think it’s wise to prioritize this over rest.” When you don’t react, the Doctor sighs again and comes closer, kneeling beside your chair. “Hey, look at me.” His soft voice entices you to meet his gaze. You notice concern written on his face which only worsens when he gets a proper look at you. “You look exhausted, Y/N.” You look down at your lap. “Can’t you finish this when you wake up?”

You shake your head. “No I…I have to finish it now.” Sometimes you were too stubborn for your own good. You forgot exactly why it was so important to finish this now, all you knew was that you were determined to do so.

“Very well,” the Doctor says. “If you won’t stop for your well-being, then could you stop for me?”

You furrow your eyebrows at this and once again lock eyes with the Doctor. “For you?”

He smiles with mirth in his eyes. “Yes for me. I care about you,” he says. His words strike you as you’re not too used to people telling you that. “Plus I’d hate for my favourite human to collapse from over-exhaustion.”

You chuckle at that, but one statement draws your attention. My favourite human. It seems that your doctor truly does care about you.

“So please,” he says. “Will you get some rest?”

You glance over at the drawing that had seized your mind. You bite your lip, thinking about the possibilities if you kept going. But the Doctor’s sincerity had snapped you out of your all-consuming trance. You sigh and look back at the pleading man and nod.

“Alright,” you say. He smiles and you already feel better about your decision. He stands up and you follow suit, almost stumbling as both of your legs had fallen asleep, but the Doctor is there to catch you.

You make your way over to your bed and flop onto it, eliciting a laugh from the Doctor. Your overtiredness becomes most apparent when you snuggle into your sheets and feel their soft comfort. You don’t bother changing clothes, figuring you’ll worry about that when you wake up. Finally, the only thing on your mind was rest.

The Doctor is still in your room, making sure you get settled. His face is filled with satisfaction as he sees you finally tucked away, sighing happily under your covers. Your tired eyes are closed, and your face looks peaceful.

When the Doctor turns to leave, you call out, “Doctor?” He stops with his hand on your door and turns to you.

“Yes, dear?”

“Thank you,” you whisper, already half-asleep. The Doctor merely shakes his head with a smile.

“Anytime. Good night.” He turns off your light and you find comfort in the darkness. As soon as he shuts the door, you fall asleep.