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kenobers · 2 days

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tremble & shake | jason todd x sionis!reader

but first free palestine !! Jason doesn't show up for your hook-up. You don't think much of it until he comes barreling through his window in a distressed state. He's desperately in need of your comfort and you don't have a clue why, but you can't stand to see Jason Todd hurting. tw: angst, hurt/comfort, could be read as a panic attack, mental breakdown, slightly dubious attempts to initiate sex, non-sexual intimacy, uhh fear, self deprecating thoughts (i swear, one day i'll write something where neither you nor jason have anything bad to say about yourselves). jason todd needs a hug, reader was previously not very good with emotions. or empathy. fem!reader. a/n: happy batman day! here's jason crying <3 this comes after magic hands & is this love?

Slam.

You jolt awake from your sleep, immediately reaching for a blunt object. Blinking hard, you squint at the door. Jason's door.

That's right, you're in Jason's apartment for one of your regularly scheduled hook-ups. He hadn't shown up, his phone abandoned on his bedside table. You figured he must've had to patrol tonight and forgot to give you a heads up. However, it's been pouring rain all night, so you decided to stay. You must've fallen asleep waiting for him.

"Jason?-"

No sooner does the man's name leave your lips than he practically tackles you on the bed. He's still in his costume, the red bat on his chest heaving heavily. His red mouthpiece hides the bottom half of his face as he looks down at you from behind the white of his domino mask. He's absolutely drenched. Cold clings to him and sends a shiver down your spine.

You furrow your brow. Something's wrong.

"I thought you weren't patrolling tonight," you whisper. He says nothing.

Pursing your lips, you ran your hands along his bare forearms. He's shaking. He'd gone out without his jacket. Jason's tough, almost inhumanely so, but if he'd gone out without his jacket in this rain...he must've been in a hurry.

"Did something happen?" Your eyes search his unbroken skin for injuries. Still, he says nothing and the empty whites of his mask are starting to freak you out.

You push his wet hood back and comb your fingers through his soaked hair until they find the buckle of his mask. You undo it and pull the mask from his face, peeling the domino along with it. His expression underneath is just as blank, like his mind is somewhere else.

Before you can say anything, he's kissing you hard. Almost violently. A shaky hand grips your shoulder with a ferocity Jason hasn't previously had with you, even when you've really gone at it.

"Hey," you say between harsh, wet kisses. "Jason, stop."

As if he doesn't hear you, Jason moves to your neck. The hand on your shoulder drops to your hip.

"Jason."

It starts to paw underneath your satin hem.

"Jay!"

The fear in your voice makes his head snap up. He stares at you with wide eyes, like a deer in the headlights. You shake your head, "I don't want this. I don't think you want this."

He moves off of you, staring at his lap.

You sit up slowly, mirroring his position on his knees. Panic chews at your insides as you try to assess him. He needs help, needs comfort, maybe. You have no experience with comfort, no clue what to do. You can't do this, you're not the person he needs, this-

This isn't about you. The man that has been at your every beck and call for the past several months looks like he's fighting for his Goddamn life. You don't hate the possibility of making a fool of yourself as much as you hate the sight of seeing Jason Todd in pain.

Somewhere, in the very back of your mind, there's a vague memory of a hand cupping your cheek, wiping away your tears. You copy it, reaching out to him hesitantly, terrified of making things worse.

Your fingertips brush his cheek with an almost non-existent touch, just heavy enough to wipe away the remnants of rain. He leans into your touch and you take this as permission to hold his face in your trembling hands.

His own hands find your hips again, drawing you between his thighs as his head comes to rest in the crook of your shoulder.

"'just wanna feel you," he mumbles against your skin, making your shoulder vibrate.

"I'm not gonna fuck you like this," you card your other hand through his damp hair. "You're going to wake up and realize it wasn't what you needed."

He says nothing, but clutches you as close as he possibly can. You tense as he presses against you. His armor digs into you uncomfortably, the buckle of his holster poking at your thigh. Water from his soggy clothes seeps through your satin nightgown. The hand on his face begins to cramp at this bent angle.

You've never seen him like this. Neither of you ever really come to one another for comfort, sans the time he brought you pads. Or the other time he calmed you down from a fight with your father. Or came to your rescue when your friends got you greened out on some fucked up weed. Okay, so you come to him for comfort, but he is...much more reclusive about his emotions. Complaining to you, sure. He often pulls to your sessions pissed and fucks you until he felt better. Sometimes he's so hungry for your body that he doesn't speak, except to check in with you. This was neither of these things. But this would mark the first real emotional emergency of whatever this relationship is. This was sad, desperate. Fearful.

"Please," he breathes in a broken voice. You...relax.

Without thinking about it, you hug him. You run your hand between his shoulder blades, supporting the back of his head. You cradle him like he might break. The same way he holds you when he sleeps.

"Nothing's gonna hurt you. I'm not gonna let 'em," the memory in the back of your head says.

"It's okay," you soothe, pressing your lips to his wet curls, feeling them tickle your cheek. "I'm not gonna let anything hurt you. Nothing's gonna touch you here, Jaybird."

There's a slight shake of his head as he clings to fistfuls of your dress. Your stomach clenches at the thought of whatever was bad enough to puncture his mind like this. You pull back just enough to look at him. Only the bottom half of his face was visible. His lips quivered, silently forming "no" over and over again.

You momentarily retracted your hand from his back to rest your palm to his cheek.

"Baby, I don't know where your brain is telling you or what it's telling you is happening, but I swear to you, you're safe with me in your apartment. Nothing is coming for us, I won't let anything happen."

His breath shutters and he buries his face completely into your shoulder. You squeeze your arms around him, rocking the giant man back and forth. He defeatedly sags against you with a single sob. Your heart drops even further at the sound. You shush him gently, resting your chin on his head.

"It's okay, you're okay. You're here with me. I've got you, baby. I've got you."

The next however many minutes go on like this. You cradle him, praying he doesn't shatter in your lap. You coo any sweets words you can think of until the tension in his muscles eases at your touch. His weight grows heavier in your embrace. For a moment, you think he fell asleep.

"Jay?" You call out softly. He lifts his head and rests it against your forehead. His gaze is still lost in space, but at least they look exhausted. That's better than nothing.

His skin burns against icy hot yours. Sweat starts to replace the rain. He needs to sleep, but he needs to properly warm up first.

You frown, "Jay, you should take a shower. You'll catch a cold."

He tightens his grip on you, not eager to let you go. You tuck your hand under his jaw, "I'll come with you."

This is a good enough promise to sway him. He nods, reluctantly pulling away from you. You slip off the bed, then shyly grab his hand. He intertwines his fingers with your own and follows you into the bathroom. It hits you that this is the first time you've held hands. Under better circumstances, it would feel nice.

You eye him up and down, taking in the damage under the bright bathroom fluorescents. His cheeks are flushed and newly decorated with tear streaks, but otherwise, he really doesn't look hurt. Just incredibly lost. Like he's not quite sure where he is. Green irises burn holes in you, golden flecks incinerating your skin, as if he's trying to figure out if you're real. The gaze is so intense, you have to look away for a minute. You conveniently make note of how funny of his scuffed up black boots look compared to your pedicured toes, bare against the checkered tiles.

He needs to get out of his wet clothes.

Sliding your hands under the shoulders of his sleeveless hoodie, you ask, "Can I undress you?"

He blinks. You hold your breath, praying you didn't just trigger something else. Then, wordlessly, he nods. You let out the breath as inconspicuous as you can and make quick work of the damp hoodie. His shirt follows. All scars, bruises and beauty marks look present and accounted for. Nothing new in the inventory.

It's when you tug his gloves off that you finally locate any kind of laceration. Pebble-like imprints litter his palms; he must've been clutching something concrete like a stress ball for hours. He hadn't bothered with his usual red wrist wraps either, another sign he'd left in a hurry.

You don't pry, however. Instead, you kiss his reddened palms. Then, as your father taught you to do, you turn his still trembling hands over in your steady ones and kiss each knuckle gently. Unlike his forehead, his skin here is frozen until warmed by your loving lips.

Something about this interaction seems to ground the man a little more. You kneel to untie a beat-up boot, reminiscing about how your father used to let you take his loafers off for him when you were little. However, you've only managed to undo the other knot when Jason stops you.

"I can get the rest."

You're thrilled to hear him speak and nearly pop a kiss on his lips like it's a gold star before thinking better of it. You leave him to it, redirecting your focus on turning the shower on and picking out two fresh towels.

When at last he's naked, you make to shed your own minimal clothing. However, Jason stops you yet again, with time with an unsure hand on your bicep. He takes a moment to simply examine you once more in the good lighting, this time letting his eyes wander from your face. A hint of adoration crosses his drained features as his gaze combs your body, lingering on the curves and swells highlighted in baby pink.

Jason's index hooks around the thin strap of your slip. His thumb skims along the satin material before caressing your collarbone. It's a classic Jason move, but now it feels more akin to the way a child might grip a blanket.

"...Can I?" It's the shyest you've ever heard him speak. You nod and he brushes either strap off your shoulders, watching as the item pools at your feet. You give him a moment to admire the matching pink thong underneath before it joins the fabric puddle on the floor.

The shower is quiet, save for the dulcet sound of the running faucet. Jason winces when the hot water stings his frigid skin, however you can physically see the tension in his muscles melt away. His shoulders are much more relaxed beneath your washcloth, the rise and fall of his chest is becoming less stagnant. You take turns washing each other, like it's some kind of game. You touch him tenderly, still gauging for any kind of pain. He touches you with an intent that doesn't meet his drained eyes, still just gauging you.

When the silence is broken after who knows how long, it's by Jason.

"I don't deserve you."

His voice cracks like a 15-year-old.

"Don't talk like that," you chastise. He doesn't elaborate as his hand continues to rub body scrub along your back. You turn to him, both of your hands finding his face and holding it in place, the way he loves to do to you. "Don't talk like that."

You don't know what else to say. Neither of you are wordsmiths. You're afraid if you try to keep him talking, he'll just be self-effacing. You don't think you could handle hearing him talk about himself that way, not with him being as stubborn as he is. So you press a soft kiss to his lips. It isn't long, it doesn't invite more, but when you pull away, there's more green in his eyes. He envelopes you into his chest and holds you there. You return the embrace without hesitation, arms sliding around his waist while water taps the tops of your heads. You think you could stay like this forever; wrapped in each other's arms under the sanctuary of warm water, as the sound of his heart beat lulls you somewhere far away from the world outside the fogged up glass.

You do stay like that until the shower runs treacherously cold. Until one of you has to shut the faucet off, until the other is swathing each of you in fluffy wine colored towels. It's just a series of tasks you wordlessly complete so you can earn the reward of collapsing into bed, just dry enough to avoid waking up to a still damp pillow. You're both too tired to be bothered with pajamas. You aren't sure you're so wiped. Maybe you're just desperate to hold your lover again. He seems to feel the same way as he wastes no time reaching for your waist once the comforter is pulled up.

He slides down to kiss your shoulder and appreciate the warm scent of your body scrub. Much to your surprise, his head stays there. Even more to your surprise, you find it's because his eyes have fluttered shut. Jason never beats you to sleep, even at his most tired. But the relaxed weight of his body on your tells you he's winning this round.

You stroke the nape of his neck, grazing your fingernails through the tapered patch of hair. You'd been so focused on everything else that hadn't even noticed he'd gotten the haircut you'd asked him to. The request had been a joke really, something snarky to remark when he'd said something too nice about your appearance. It looked good, even from this angle. He must've just gotten it today. He must've gotten it for you.

Not everything's about you.

You try to push the thought out of your head as you admire the way Jason's cheek is smushed against your chest. If you lingered on it, you'd just started ragging on yourself, making it even more about. Earlier tonight had been the first time may be ever that someone with the last name Sionis had dared to consider something might not be about them. But what, did you want a cookie or something? A key to the city for your basic empathy?

Jason's earth rattling snore yanks you from your tailspin. You giggle quietly, no wonder he waits to fall asleep second. Your fingers resume wandering their course through his hair and a tremor runs down his back. He lets out a satisfied snort, his red lips parting. With a deep breath, he nuzzles into you. His usually hardened face is the softest you've ever seen it. Even the scars seem to fade. It's the complete opposite of the stony picture you woke up to. Despite the circumstances, you wouldn't trade the world for the sight before you.

You smile drowsily, ready to follow his lead and doze off when your phone vibrates rudely on the bed stand. You swear mentally, first at yourself for jerking so suddenly, then at whoever the fuck just had to send you a notification right this very second. A string of potential threats crosses your mind as you clumsily reach for the phone, gritting your teeth at the awkward way you bend your arm. It isn't easy to reach when a 225 pound man is slumbering (thankfully) unperturbed on top of you.

It takes you a few seconds to recall how to read as you glare blearily at the too bright screen. Your eyebrows knit when a message from an unknown number at last comes into view.

'Is he okay?'

You inwardly rescind your threats. It doesn't take a genius detective to deduce the identity of the sender.

'He's okay. He's sleeping now.'

The reply is instant.

'That's good. Moderate case of fear toxin, it should wear off all together by the morning.'

Ah, that will do it. You frown at Jason. A sick feeling creeps in at the thought of how terrified he must've been. That's why he seemed so unsure of you; you weren't the only thing he was seeing. Your poor baby.

When you glance back at your phone, there's another text.

'Are you okay?'

You blink.

'Yes, thank you. We're all fine here.'

There is one more response before you shut off the phone.

'I'll check in in the morning. I'm glad he's with you. Get some sleep.'

You're glad he's with you too. You're glad he came to find you. You're glad he wanted your comfort.

You're glad you would do anything for this stupid boy.

Jason sighs into your now dry skin. For just this moment, he knows nothing but peace. You'll fight off anything else.

Finally, you succumb to your exhaustion, knowing better than to disobey the Bat. The last thought you have is how warm Jason is wrapped safely in your arms before dreams of his shit eating grin take over.

#jason todd needs a hug #and who am i to deny him #i'll write something happy soon i promise #jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #jason todd x you #red hood x you #jason todd angst #jason todd #red hood #sionis!reader #jason todd x sionis!reader #kenobers poetics #also yes you keep body scrub in jason's shower

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lethalchiralium · 15 hours

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hii your bio says that requests are open, so, if you don't mind, can i request a simon x reader where reader is also part of the 141 and got severely hurt, and turns out she's pregnant with simon's baby (they are together) but because of her injuries she lost the child? maybe they didn't know that she's pregnant. thank you love💞

hi!! i LOVE this prompt, so sorry it took so long lol

bring heaven down just for you | simon riley x wife!reader

cw: mentions of injury, blood, miscarriages

The car accident was extreme, even for the 141. They weren’t expecting to get T-boned in a city street, trying to make their escape, but it was short lived. You didn’t remember much, being in the backseat with your seatbelt off, on “follower” duty - pistol in hand, watching if anyone was tailing the escape. Price in the driver’s seat, Gaz in passenger, and Soap and Ghost were already at the safe house.

You remembered the car rolling, throwing you around like a ragdoll. Your head slammed against the roof of the car and then darkness took over, at least until you remembered hearing Price’s yelling. The way the straps on your vest were tugged and the blood curdling scream that left you, the explosion of pain in your leg, your shoulder, your abdomen - it woke you up instantly, and adrenaline seemed to kick in ten fold. Barely a glance down and you could see why pulling you wouldn’t be a good idea - so many glass shards in your body, deep red blood bubbled up and trickled out, you felt your body internally gag. You looked to the sound of gunshots, seeing Gaz firing off round after round, and soon silence followed. A slow blink, you found yourself crying out in pain in the street, Price knelt beside you, administering aid as you heard faint sirens. Soon, your eyes closed then opened again, finding yourself being loaded into an ambulance - Gaz and Price covered in blood. Panic surged through you, but so did the pain. A low rumble of pain escaped your chest, Gaz reached forwards and took your right hand - where did you gun go? - and held it gently, saying something you couldn’t quite hear.

A hand settled on your good shoulder, the one opposite to Gaz, you looked to your captain, now able to hear the siren wailing as he spoke, “Who do we need to call for you?”

A breath filled your lungs, only for you to cough and squeal out in pain. A moment more and you were able to grit out, “My husband.”

“What’s his name-“

The ambulance screeched to a halt, the back doors flung open, and your gurney was taken out. The IV in your elbow that was placed while you had passed out now seemed to prickle with pain, one nurse who walked beside your moving gurney drew a vile of blood before taking off, the rest of the medical crew pushed you into what you assumed was a trauma bay. You wouldn’t know, you’re not a medic. You’re just a sergeant, an infiltration specialist.

A doctor came in, placing a plastic bracelet on your wrist as you looked around with a heavy head. Price was with you, Gaz wasn’t… Where’s Soap and Ghost? Will they be here soon?

It felt like only two second passed when the nurse came back to your gurney, she was the one who took your blood. The other nurses still fluttered about, getting you ready for surgery as your captain stayed by your side. She had a somber look in her eye. There was a gentle hand on your shoulder, the good one, you paid no mind to Price - moving it to get his touch off of you. You didn’t want him there, you wanted-

“I have your test results, Miss.” You heard Price take a step back, the pain in your body began to feel fuzzy as the sedatives kicked in from your IV. The nurse stood beside you, holding onto the bed rail and you felt unease bubble into your lungs. In your adrenaline delirious state, you could still make out the look of the nurse’s face - the bearer of bad news. “Are you aware that you are pregnant?”

“I’m not pregnant.” It escaped like a whine, grabbing the nurse’s wrist with what little strength you had, your stomach twitched. “My husband and I have been- been trying for years. I- I can’t be.”

“You are, test confirms it. But we have to take you into surgery now, and I’m unsure if it will be viable after this.”

A growl emitted from your throat, “Save it. Save it. Save my baby. Please.”

There was a grim look on her face, and the doctor beside her. She stepped in, a calm look in her own eye as she spoke, “We’ll do the best we can, but I can’t guarantee anything.”

A hiccup escaped you, pain leaving you and your consciousness slipping away too, “Please. Save my baby.”

The doctor only nodded before she left, and the nurse gave you a somber look before leaving too. You couldn’t even look at your captain, the man you would have always looked to your guidance. But this… This was something you had to navigate alone and with your husband.

You were only awake for a few more moments, the anesthesiologist saying something about needing Price to leave, that you would be out soon. Your eyes grew heavy, you refused to fight it. Giving in meant not having to worry about losing the chance you’ve wanted.

When you woke up, pain encompassed you. A groan escaped you, your eyes opened and scanned the left side of the room, the light above your bed not being able to flood your room with light. It was dark outside, the stars still perched in the sky, your eyes moved right and you could see the dark mass of someone just entering through the door.

“Simon,” You whined his name, tears escaping your eyes in fat globs, your one good hand reaching for him. He was instantly by your side, hand gently moving from strands from your face. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“Whatever for?” He murmured as he pressed his lips to your temple. “You survived. Why would you be-“

Your jaw set, the words spoken like kerosene, meant to burn yourself alive. “I was pregnant.” The raw sob that escaped you made you push your head back, looking your husband in the eye as you sobbed from your injuries and the loss of what could’ve been. “I didn’t- I didn’t know and- and it’s gone.”

Your husband froze, you watched every muscle inside of him contract as he gazed at you. You watched, in such agony, as you husband’s forehead fell to your bandaged one, his warm hands holding your face and his own tears sprung from his face to mix with yours. And all you could hear was what sounded like howling - loud and heavy sobs, ones that would make your body tremble. It was just hard to realize that they were coming from you, you only realized it when Simon’s hand went around to your lower back, trying to move you towards him, trying to hold you in a way that could truly comfort you. It was useless. Useless.

“It’s gonna be okay.” A meaningless saying now. It hasn’t meant a fucking thing since your third miscarriage in your second year of marriage. It hasn’t meant anything since you had to stop counting your losses and began to pretend that your husband wasn’t fucking destroyed that you couldn’t give him the one thing you want to. A family.

How could it be okay when you couldn’t do this one fucking thing that your body was made to do?

“We’ll be okay.” He murmured against your skin, your good hand holding onto his jacket sleeve, your head pounded as the sobs grew louder, turning into wails. As much as it hurt your throat, it hurt more now that after three years since your last one, you had a chance. And it was ripped from you, ripped from your hands before you even had a chance to understand why it had been given to you. A chance to show your husband that you could be good too, that you weren’t like your past either.

“It- It hurt- hurts-“ Was all you could manage, and you felt Simon’s sob shake you, burn you, crucify you. God, this must be Hell for him, because it’s more than Hell for you to think about the pain he’s in.

“I know, my girl, I know it must hurt.”

A zap of pain in your belly and you were crying more, the wails quieting to you begging him for medicine. Tears watered your vision of your Simon as he pressed the call button, brushing your hair back before looking you in the eye again. Even if you couldn’t see too well from the tears and the pain, you could imagine his velvet brown eyes - you could feel his tears as he brushed your hair back over and over, his words rumbled through you like a prayer.

“Our time’ll come soon, baby. And I’m so sorry that it wasn’t now, n’I know that’s gotta hurt so bad.” A kiss and then his cheek was pressed to your hair, you could hear the nurse come in, and more voices enter your room. There was no reason to fight your urge to close your eyes, let the tears fall, and listen to him. “But I’ll be here. I’ll always be here, jus’ like every time before, and any time after. I’ll be here, even if I have to kill a thousand men to get here. I will be here.”

#lethalchiralium #lethal chiralium #simon ghost riley #simon riley #call of duty #might make more of this idk #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x female reader #simon riley x f!reader #simon riley x wife!reader #simon ghost riley x f!reader #simon ghost riley x female reader #simon ghost riley x wife!reader

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koolades-world · 2 days

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So, request for the Obey me boys (main and side). When I'm emotionally stressed or overwhelmed, I get the urge to clean (especially if my space has been needing it). So, how would they react to an MC spontaniously cleaning anything and everything in that sort of state (Dishes, Floors, surfaces, their own room, etc)?

hi! sure thing!

i relate to this on such a deep level. it's when i get my best cleaning done LOL. having a crisis? suddenly the room is the best it's looked in months

posting this instead of spellbound because getting my car took much longer than I expected. spellbound will be tomorrow for sure :)

enjoy <3

Mc who spontaneously cleans

Lucifer

he may just have to marry you on the spot

his brothers aren’t exactly the cleanest bunch and sometimes he feels like he’s the only one making an effort

he might cry if he comes downstairs one morning and the kitchen is sparkling

Mammon

if he’s not the messiest bitch ever… no shade but there’s no way his room doesn’t look like it was hit by a tornado

however if he ever sees you cleaning he'll try his best to help

he will also try his best to keep things tidy to make it less work for you <3

Levi

I can’t explain it but something about him screams neat freak to me

but, this only applies to his spaces because it would be too much work

he applauded your efforts because more than once he’s cracked and just deep cleaned everything haha

Satan

he’s clean when he wants to be

and most of the time, he is. the only times he isn’t is to piss off lucifer even though he’s just going to drag him back to do it anyways

after seeing how hard you work, he never does that again haha. he would hate for you to have to pick up after him

Asmo

somehow clean but messy at the same time

he won't stop you if you want to go to town cleaning up his makeup pallets and what not

afterwards though he makes sure to treat you <3

Beel

definitely the guy that takes three plus showers a day lol

he always asks you to make sure he's picking up after himself though just in case

he appreciates you and everything you do :)

Belphie

if you think he's tidy, i am so sorry you are wrong haha

will complain about an area being dirty and then proceed to ask why you were cleaning it up

however he will thank you every time he notices you've tidied up :)

Diavolo

despite the fact that he has a whole team that cleans for him, he hates to leave behind a mess

so, he always insists you get him when you get the urge to clean

everything is better when you have someone by your side! besides, he'll take any excuse to be by your side

Barbatos

you know him, he’s incredibly tidy to the point that it’s almost impossible to find a mess in the demon lord’s palace

but in the rare cause you’ve beat him to it, he’s grateful since it’s rare he gets help

afterward, you’ll be having tea together, his treat

Simeon

he also seems like his things are always clean no matter what

it's almost like he's magic at the rate at which messes vanish

he will feel bad if he sees you cleaning, and will take over

Luke

both of his dads (simebarb sorry for kinda sneaking this narrative in here lol) are both neat people, so it only makes sense for him to be too

after all, he wants to be just like them!

if he catches you cleaning, he will instantly join in

Solomon

he seems like he would live realistically, not too dirty, but also not too clean

if things are a little cluttered, he's alright with it because it looks lived in

if you do spontaneously clean, he'll try his best to make it up to you with his cooking!!

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empty-vessel-of-a-person · 3 days

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Delulu Mode: Jealous Zayne

Note: Not a Full Fic. Just a Delulu Story in my Brain. I wish I can write a full Story but I can't. Believe me I try.

To say you were hurt is an understatement. it was date night and you are very static that for once, Zayne was able to get off work early. But nothing prepared you to the colder than usual demeanor he has and an almost dismissive attitude.

You are very confused, when you pick him up from the hospital, he even kissed you in the forehead. Something the he's done for the first time.

His colleagues has seen you two stand so close to each other and the furthest they seen you two is greeting each other by holding hands. So the forehead kiss is something new to you but you are still equally happy.

So what happened in between the fifteen minute ride to the restaurant is still a mystery to you.

You are in the verge of crying when he refuse to talk much as you two eat.

Steeling your emotions, you keep everything in check because whatever is upsetting Zayne, he clearly do not want to share with you at the moment.

You two plan on walking on the nearby park after dinner. This is one of Zayne's way to getting you both a simple work out after eating your hearts out. But tonight, you feel awkward to do it so you ask Zayne take you home instead, which to no surprise, he didn't argue.

The ride was awkward and almost suffocating that you were not able to fight the silent tears that started to fall from your eyes. You did not move to wipe the tears as the moment may cause Zayne to notice so you just look out the window.

When you finally see your apartment, you thank Zayne for the dinner and ride home and quickly exited the car.

This seem to knock Zayne out from trans and he run after you. When he finally catch up and turn you to him, he was so shocked that your face is so red with tears. He immediately picks you up and take you back to his car.

You didn't fight him. Instead you held his shoulders tightly until he is able to secure you in car.

Driving fast but carefully , you notice that you are going to the direction of his house. When you are finally arrived, he excited the car without a word and unfasten your seatbelt an carry you again like earlier. When you try to protest, he just hold you tightly but gently and take you straight to his room.

He set you sitting at the edge of the bed and and him kneeling in front of you and his head on your knees as he whispers I'm sorry.

You didn't say anything for a while but you intertwined your hands with him while your other hand was gently stroking his hair. You then realize that his shoulders was shaking. he's crying.

That's when you coax him to talk and found out that he was jealous of the way you easily laugh with Greyson. he reason that with Greyson you always look like you are having fun. While you are just giving him smile and small giggle. he wants you to laugh heartily with him too but he is knows he is not jolly and funny like Greyson and for that he was extremely jealous.

He was so insecure that he kissed your forehead in front of his colleagues to ensure that they know you are his. And after that he proceeded to ignore you and for that he is so ashamed on how he acted.

You feel his arms encircle your legs he then murmurs. Please don't leave me.

It breaks your heart that he thinks that you will leave him for any other man so you hold his face in both your hands. When he finally look at you, you tell him that his presence alone make you happier that any laughing moments with her friends. Having fun and laugh with them does not comes close to how you feel when he showers you affection and you only and exclusively just long for him.

When you ask him to kiss you he was hesitant stating that he doesn't deserve to kiss you because how he acted. You acted angry and tell him that he is allowed to do whatever he wants with you. He was still hesitant that is why you hold the back of his neck and bring your lips down to his and he accept you dominating him.

When the kiss ended you whisper in his ears that you wanted more he then reply "Well then. My Love, what exactly do you allow me to do?"

#love and deepspace #zayne #zayne love and deepspace #zayne lads #lnds zayne #zayne l&ds #dr zayne #lads zayne x reader #zayne x y/n #zayne x you #zayne x mc #zayne x reader #zayne x oc

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pearlymel · 3 days

Note

reader touching herself while thinking about sunday? u decide what happens after

Summary: What happens when your boyfriend catches you having a little bit of fun without him? One, he'll teach you how to do it properly, and two, you'll reward him in return.

Warnings: NSFW, smut, afab! reader, early-relationship, fingering, slight nipple play, ōral (m! receiving), cūm swallowing.

Notes: wrote this with one hand btw

Dinner. Wine. Slow music.

It was the perfect date after you both have recently agreed to get together, who could ever resist someone as charming as him? The ever gentleman man, always taking his time with you, and his hand placements whenever he holds you or kisses you? The absolute cherry on top.

What about his scent? Aeons, his scent was stuck on your head the entire night ever since he embraced you, the way his wings would flutter everytime you got too close, especially when you whisper sweet nothings into his ear and how his ears would visibly get red.

The mental image of his flustered like that doesn't even make you realise that it got you slipping your panties off, your fingers messily toying with your clit in fast circles, a whine eliciting straight from your throat and onto the pillow when you inch one finger inside, but it's not enough—you need more, you need more of his scent, more of the way his gloved fingers trailed smoothly up your skin.

"Oh, fuck..." Your body shudders at the sinful thought, your lips quivering, you don't know if you want to stop or to keep going, was it bad that you want to sit on his pretty face now?

You thought he would take his time in the bathroom. Poor you, you couldn't even wait until he finished, he just had to come back and witness you in this pathetic state.

Sunday gripped the doorframe tightly, his nails digging into the wood as his eyes were glued to your fingers, to the way your chest rose and fell. He couldn't help but feel the heat pooling in his groin, the sight of you struggling to reach orgasm has him dizzy.

The minute you feel a set of arms envelope around you, you gasp and freeze, you were so caught red handed that it was embarrassing.

“I'm sor—” but he doesn't let you finish before he's shushing you, your back pressed against his chest, one hand around your breast and the other caressing your thigh up smoothly until he was able to hike your dress higher to expose more of you, more of what he's missing out.

“couldn’t wait till i was finished?” he whispered, clicking his tongue before taking your thigh and prying your legs open, “spread them apart for me.” Your legs are immediately open for him, his voice angelic, a contrast to the way he pulls his glove off his hand using his teeth, leaving it discarded on the bed.

Your lips parted when his fingers start to slowly gather your slick, trailing over your folds, feeling your slit, teasing and playing with you before slipping one finger inside.

He groans at the wetness that greeted him, his finger thrusting in and out of you, slowly at first, taking his time finding a pace while his other hand rolled your hardened nipple that peeked out of your dress, pinching it then soothing it with a gentle roll with his thumb, the stimulation only making your body arch against him as you try rocking your hips to match his measured pace.

You squirm when he abruptly adds another finger, filling you, stretching you, and you whine out in pleasure when Sunday curled his fingers, pressing against your spongy spot repeatedly, his thumb soon joins in and rubs your clit in circular motions.

It's like his fingers were making out with your pussy.

The room was soon filled with the sound of your ragged breaths, your moans, the loud squelches and wet slap of his fingers altogether. He could feel your cunt clenching down around him, the signs of your impending orgasm.

When his fingers starts ramming inside you to help you reach your release, you cry out with your head thrown back against his shoulder, which makes his free hand leave your nipple to wrap it gently around your neck, keeping you in place.

He could see you bite your lip, your eyes clenched shut, your body writhing beneath him. “You deserve to cum, angel. It's been a long day.” Sunday murmurs next to your neck, and another press on your swollen nub is what makes you whimper loudly, eyes rolling back as you grab onto him.

He smiles when he sees the haze in your eyes, your body relaxing in his arms after being satisfied from the release you've been aching to have.

When you slowly come back to your senses, and now you are suddenly all too aware of how hard he was the whole time, and you could feel it rubbing right below your ass.

“Sunday—”

“do you need to rest now?”

“No.” as you clear your throat, you turn around and are met with his captivating gaze. Your hand instinctively reaches closer, drawn to his wings. Slowly, your fingers brush against the feathers, and his wings immediately flutter in response, there's the response you will always be excited to see.

With tenderness, your lips press a gentle kiss against the feathers, and you feel the slight shudder that runs through him, your other hand meanwhile runs down to unzip his pants swiftly, to free his cock out of the tight confinements.

“You don’t have to—” and you're the one shushing him this time by pressing your lips against his for a chaste kiss.

“I want to please you.” You tell him in a low tone, another peck making it's way to his lips once again, “please?”

The minute he nods, you press his chest back down and he leans back on his elbows before you inch your face lower to lift his shirt slightly just enough to reveal his v-line, just for you to teasingly pepper his skin with soft kisses only for him to make his wings flutter in response.

Your hands work on taking his pants off, and he lifts his hips to help you slide them off with ease. Sunday's eyes never left yours, even when you were eye-level with his throbbing cock, the head already flushed and glistening with pre-cum.

his hand wraps around the base of his shaft, guiding it towards your awaiting lips, “open,” he commands gently, and he lets out a hiss when you start by flattening your tongue at the tip, licking the salty pre-cum off before wrapping your lips around him, the sensation only made his coke twitch in anticipation, his hips instinctively rocking forward.

Your mouth was warm, soft, heavenly.

“H-hah, don't tease me,” Sunday’s lips parted at the feeling of your tongue repeatedly circling around his tip then massaging at the pulsing vein on the underside of his cock.

You then start bobbing your head up and down, making him whimper above you as he shuts his eyes tightly.

It was a mistake to even re open his eyes, his eyes locked on your mouth, your cheeks hollowing out as sucked like it was the sweetest treat ever. He could feel the tension building in his body, his orgasm near, and he reached down, his fingers tangling in your hair.

Your throat constricted around his cock, and he tries keeping his moans low every time you start gagging and choking.

“W-waitwait—” Sunday was gone the minute your hands started fondling with his balls, and he thrusts abruptly into your mouth until warm, white ropes of cum erupted from the tip of his cock, harsh gasps leaving his throat, followed by his trembling wings as his hips continued thrusting sloppily until you pulled out after swallowing every drop. His tip glistening with the residue of your saliva, and your lips with his seed.

You both are now shyly looking away from eachother, soft breaths and silence coming from both of you.

You're the first one to move, wrapping your arms around his waist and collapsing right on top of him. Sunday welcomes you in, his own arms finding their way around you before kissing the top of your head.

"I want to sit on your face next time." You murmur your fantasy to him out loud, and his eyes widened before his wings made the move to cover his flushed face, making you laugh at his adorableness.

#sunday smut #honkai star rail #honkai star rail smut #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #sunday #sunday hsr #har smut #sunday x reader #sunday x you #hsr x you #hsr sunday #hsr

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greenwitchfromthewoods · 1 day

Text

bloody hands. l Joel Miller

Summary: he didn't expect to find you in such a state

Warnings: angst, but with a lot of sad moments, guns, knife and blood, two dead bodies, allusion to rape, nervous breakdown

A/N: I had a certain scene in mind and I really wanted to create something around it. something like this came out. scribbles. but I hope you'll be gentle with me. your feedback is very important to me and I thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. 🖤 sorry for all the mistakes

and once I wrote that, the thought grew in me to give these two something more... and now i'm unsure what to do with it next. help?

The sound of the shot echoed through the building and Joel felt a shiver run through his body. He sped up and quickly climbed the next stairs, then headed down the corridor where he could hear the sounds of scuffling and Ellie's screams. Fingers tightened around the handle of the rifle, he pushed the door with his shoe and for a moment he didn't know what was happening.

Ellie was sitting against the wall with terror in her eyes. The body of one of the men was lying on the floor, and the other...

"Shit!" Joel hissed, lowering the barrel of the rifle.

You were breathing heavily, trying to fill your lungs with oxygen. You were still holding the knife in your clenched, bloody hand, sitting astride the body of the other man. Thick blood flooded the floor beneath him, his clothes were soaked in it.

"Hey, it's me."

Terrified eyes found Joel's face, you tried to brush your hair away from your face, but you stained it even more with the man's blood. It seemed that you weren't hurt so Miller quickly looked towards the girl squeezed against the wall.

"Are you okay?"

Ellie nodded and stood up "Those pricks tried to..."

She didn't have to finish. Joel quickly noticed the mess your clothes were in, the unfastened belt buckle on your pants - he knew what could have happened and a shiver ran down his spine again.

"It's over." he choked out and held out his hand to help you up "Let's get out of here."

Despite the daze you were in, you stood up efficiently and quickly gathered your things. You all wanted to leave this cursed place as soon as possible and return to Jackson. A few days of travel separated you from your destination, but at that moment everything seemed to be even further away.

It was already getting dark outside when you managed to find an empty small house near a stream. Joel checked the place out before sinking into the dusty couch with relief. Every muscle in his body ached, and his stomach was increasingly demanding food.

Ellie's footsteps echoed silently across the floor as she visited empty rooms. Joel noticed you after a moment when you brought a bucket of water into the house.

"I want to wash this off myself." You said quietly, seeing his questioning look. Your hands and face were still smeared with dried blood.

"Do you need help? We will eat something soon." he said, but you just shook your head.

"I'm not hungry, thank you." and you quietly closed the bathroom door behind you.

This evening was different, he could clearly feel it. You joined them only after some time, still saying that you weren't hungry, you sat on the couch, pulling your legs up and wrapping yourself in an old blanket. There were no evening conversations between you and Ellie, although the girl tried to pull you in, you were strangely absent.

Joel saw it all, he knew you so well. You had walked together not only many miles, but also many dangerous situations. This time, however, everything was different, and that worried him.

He didn't know what had woken him up in the night and only after a short while did he realize that it was the splash of water and... crying.

He looked around the dark room, Ellie was fast asleep on the couch, but your place was empty. Joel threw off the blanket and quietly made his way towards the bathroom, the door was ajar.

The night was cloudless and the moonlight reflected off the once white tiles, dimly illuminating the interior. First he saw your clothes thrown somewhere on the floor, and after a moment...

"Sweet Jesus." he whispered, slipping inside and closing the door behind him.

You were sitting naked in a bathtub half filled with water. The water was freezing cold, because Joel could clearly see how you were shaking, but it could also have been intensified by the crying.

"What are you doing here, sweetie?" he whispered, crouching by the edge and placing his hand on your back, "Fuck, you're so cold. Get out of here."

Your arms were wrapped around your knees, your damp hair was sticking to your face, and you were still sobbing quietly.

"I can't wash it off, Joel..." you groaned, your throat hurting so much that you could barely say the next words, "My hands... I can still see it..."

He took your icy hands in his warm ones, "They're clean, look. How long have you been sitting here? You shouldn't… Come on, I'll help you."

"But my hands..."

"Sweetie, everything's fine. You're fine. C'mon." He grabbed you carefully by the waist, noticing with despair how cold you were, you must have been sitting in the water for a long time.

He noticed an old towel on the floor and quickly wrapped it around you. Your body was shaking, but you didn't seem to feel it. All of this made Joel feel even more afraid for you. He didn't expect this, he didn't expect you to snap at such a moment. But maybe it awaits everyone sooner or later?

This was surprising to him. You were always tough, you didn't lose your cool quickly and Joel was sure that when you said "I've got your back." you always did it right. Now, however, he held in his arms such a fragile version of you that his heart broke with each of your quickened breaths.

This wasn't something you deserved, certainly not you. You grounded him, helped him not to go crazy. He probably never told you how important you were to him, how your presence soothed his heart and mind. How much he liked it when you fell asleep and your head fell lightly on his shoulder, how he felt more confident when you grabbed his hand. You always did it at the perfect moment, when fear began to take control of his body. Your fingers would intertwine tightly with his and then you would take control.

"You're shaking all over." he mumbled as he sat down on the floor with you, his hands rubbing your shoulders hard. "Why did you come here?"

Doe eyes found him, your eyelids were red from crying. "I couldn't sleep." you whispered. "I could still feel him on me. His breath, his hands, and then his blood... I was so scared."

"I know, I know..."

"I wasn't afraid for myself, but for Ellie." Joel swallowed hard. "I couldn't... She didn't deserve this. She shouldn't have seen this."

Strong hands grabbed your face tenderly. "You saved her. You did what you had to."

"I slaughtered them like pigs, Joel..." you groaned, your voice breaking. "What kind of person am I? I'm no different from them. I didn't expect something like this to be inside me... I'm scared, Joel."

He knew exactly what you were talking about. It was something he had been pushing out of his head for years, and in the meantime you had cracked. You were made from different, better clay.

"Listen to me." he finally spoke, his thumbs tenderly stroking your cheeks. "You're a good person, but sometimes you have to do bad things to save the ones you love, right? Don't blame yourself for this, you had no other choice. If it weren't for you, you'd both be dead by now." you closed your eyes as if his words were soothing you "We've been through so much together. I know what you're like, you're definitely not a bad person. You're good...and gentle...caring... and sensitive...understanding...patient..."

"Please..."

“I wish I could meet you in better times." he added quietly "I'd gladly take you to a cozy restaurant, or to the cinema to see some terrible movie."

You quietly burst out laughing, and a faint smile appeared on his lips. He wasn't lying.

Joel had long imagined how it all could have looked if nothing bad had happened, if your paths had crossed at a different moment and time. These dreams, however, were pushed far to the fringes of his mind, because they gave him nothing more than a sense of injustice and helplessness.

"I can't imagine you in a place like that." You said quietly.

"I definitely wouldn't take a gun there, you know." He snorted, and you smiled. "But everything else... I think I could surprise you."

"You think so?" His hands slid down, one of them now lying loosely on your thigh, stroking it lightly, the other brushing wet strands of hair away from your face. "I think I like the idea. It seems so...safe."

"I'll do anything to keep you safe. You know that, right?"

You nodded. "I guess I should get dressed. If Ellie woke up and found us like this..."

"Right, right." You both stood up from the floor, and you reached for your clothes. "If you need help..."

"Thank you, Joel. You've done a lot already."

A weak smile appeared on your face, but he knew it was costing you a lot. So he left, letting you get dressed in peace.

A strange feeling filled his heart the moment he lay back down, in his already cold spot. He felt a small spark of happiness and hope when he held you in his arms, but at the same time anger and sadness that you could only dream of such nice moments together. The world had taken everything you could have had together, and you could only dream of it on the cold tiles of a dirty bathroom in a house in the middle of nowhere. It was so unfair.

Quiet footsteps announced that you had returned to the room, and after a moment you laid down next to Joel.

"Feeling better?" he asked in a whisper, you nodded "If you need anything..."

"Can you hug me? Just for a moment, please..."

It wasn't a request, just a plea. Joel mumbled a quiet "C'mere." and after a while he felt your body next to his. He clung to your back, wrapping his arm tightly around your waist. But your hand found his again, your fingers intertwined and you brought it closer to your face, kissing the top of it.

"Thank you, Joel. For everything." You whispered.

And he buried his face in your hair, squeezing his eyes shut. He kissed your head and deep in his heart he regretted that this was all he could give you. And you deserved so much more.

☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

#joel miller #pedro pascal #the last of us #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader

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ivybucky · 13 hours

Text

lightning in a bottle - logan howlett x reader

mutant!reader nearly harms the team in a moment of panic and feels unable to deal with the aftermath, but logan is there to bring you back in more ways than one

a/n: i have so many ideas besties... currently have a list of 5 fic ideas and this is the first one I was able to flush out. here's some angst with happy ending for ya (no smut)

content: angst with happy ending, lots of electricity(literally), mentions of torture and screaming, mentions of mutant experimentation, implications of shitty birth family, confession of feelings, reader crying, sad reader, angry/sad logan

words: 2329

~~~~~

All you could think about was the lightning.

You remember walking into the room, where the footage of your torture was displaying blatantly across the TV news cycle, the team sitting there and watching with rapt attention. “Mutant Experimentation Footage Leaked” scrolled across the screen. You remember the static tingling in your fingertips as you recognized what you were watching. Your own cries echoed from the speakers as footage of Stryker’s experimentation on you from a month prior when you had been captured is played to the nation.

“Turn it off,” you had said quietly, pleadingly. The team’s gaze snaps to your silhouette in the door frame. Their eyes held sorrow, and something else that you did not want to see.

“Y/N-” Storm had started to speak, but you wouldn’t have it.

“Turn it off, now,” you’d said, clenched fists at your side as the panic began to swell, small flares of electricity flaring around your knuckles. Memories of the torture, the agony, the hatred came rushing back all at one and your eyes couldn’t leave the screen as it continuously replayed it.

As the feeling heightening, electricity cracked in the air. Your eyes lit up, a bright purple gleam taking over. There was too much silence in the room, the sounds of your screams playing in a loop like a broken record as the news team played the footage over and over. Finally, someone broke it. “Y/N,” Logan had spoken up, an odd, unfamiliar tone in his voice. Good god, was that pity?

“What?” You had snapped, finally looking away from the footage and making eye contact with the team, with Logan, and you understood it wasn’t pity you heard in his voice, but a form of fear. Your anger slowly dissipated as you took in the state of the room - everyone in that room (who wasn’t bald) had hair floating up into the air, falling under the influence of the clouded electricity that filled the ceiling, just as one is before they get struck by lightning.

And gods above you had almost struck them.

Your fists fell lax at your sides, realization of the height of your emotions, the loss of control taking over your features. “I-” you stuttered, unsure how to apologize for the pain you nearly inflicted. “I-I’m sorry.”

For a moment, no one moved a muscle, no one said a word. It wasn’t the first time you had lost control, but it was the first time any of them were in danger because of it. Everyone stood like statues, watching you with bated breath, as if you were one nudge away from electrocuting the masses. You turned and fled the room, quickly striding back to your room to inevitably lock yourself in. It was the only place you felt like you could be and not hurt anyone.

Hours had passed since, but you couldn’t shake the look on their faces, the pure fright they showed, caused by you. Decidedly, that wouldn’t happen again - you wouldn’t allow it, in any capacity. Would they always fear you now? Could you manage to stay surrounded by people you loved, but knew there would always be a limit to how far their love for you went? Could you withstand the constant pins and needles your family would walk on around you, again?

It was that thought that had you hurriedly shuffling through your closet to find the duffle bag you had lugged over your shoulder when you were originally picked up by X-Men. It was crumbled into a wrinkled ball on the top shelf, thought to no longer have any use.

You paced around the room, picking up the things you knew you couldn’t leave without. The students can go through my clothes, you thought with some sort of sad acceptance. Though, that didn’t keep you from packing some of the staples. The school logo printed on a t-shirt, an old sweatshirt that was singed from a fire fight in your first mission with the rest of the team, a stolen old flannel that smelt like smoke and whiskey-

“Where are you going, sweetheart?” You look up almost startled at Logan standing at the door to your bedroom, now cracked wide open. Logan… You’d nearly forgotten about the worst part - leaving him behind.

He leans against the door frame with a confused expression, arms crossed over his chest. You furrow your brows before turning back to the half-full duffle bag that sat on the foot of your bed. You knew you couldn’t look at him when you spoke again.

“I’m leaving,” you nearly mutter and you stuff more clothes into the bag. You can feel your eyes getting hot, and try to take a deep breath to calm yourself.

“What do you mean you’re leaving?” he asks, his own brows furrowing. “Leaving for a mission?”

Your movements paused. You could tell the truth, but the reality was that he would try to stop you. And even if nothing had come out of the tension that hung between the two of you, you knew you would give in.

“Yeah,” you swallowed as you lied. “Just a quick one, some intel gathering. I’m leaving sometime tomorrow morning.”

There was a brief pause, like Logan was trying to get a read on how truthful you were being. “Maybe I should come with you,” he says. “For backup, just in case.”

You clench your eyes shut - of course, he thought you needed to be accompanied. “I’ll be fine on my own,” your hands slow their movements as you place the last item in the bag, a gray zip up hoodie Logan had given you once. Were you saying that to reassure him, or yourself? You lied through your teeth like it was painful, as if the act of clenching your jaw so hard would break your bones and your will. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

There was another pause, and you were sure he was going to call your bluff, but he just clicked his tongue. “Well alright,” he said gruffly, almost dejectedly. His hand fiddled with the door frame for a moment hesitantly. “You know that if you need-“

“I know,” you interrupted, turning to give him a tight smile. “I know.” He gave a saddened half smile before nodding and walking away.

The space he once occupied at the door was empty now, but for a moment you stared at as if he was still there, as if he was still trying to comfort you even when he didn’t know how.

An errant tear slipped from your eye and trailed down your face for a moment before you snapped back into reality, wiping the tear away quickly with the heel of your hand. You aggressively zipped up the bag and slung it over your shoulder, eager to leave before anyone, mainly Charles, got an idea of your plan.

With the click of the front door, and the clap of a thunderstorm on the dark horizon, you were gone.

As Logan left your room, he externally winced at his inability to provide comfort - to you of all fucking people - as if the non-action hurt him. The pain on your face seeped into the air and into his adamantium bones, as if it was transferable through the longing gazes and secretly honeyed words.

He hung his head and he slowly walked further down the hall, a part of him hoping he would hear your door creak open and hear you call out his name. Instead, he was met with the faint sniffles of a teary nose that only his heightened hearing could pick up, a scuffle of fabric being shoved tightly into the duffle that was then harshly zipped shut with a shuddering sigh.

He turned the corner to retreat to his room before he could hear any more, deciding to join the mission the next morning anyways.

The following morning, Logan made his way to Charles, unexpecting wanting to make his intentions to follow her known to someone. He entered the room, Charles already staring directly at him with a face one could only describe as similar to an omniscient god.

“Logan,” Charles spoke, somewhat resigned. “She doesn’t have a mission.”

Logan paused in his step with a furrowed brow. “What are you talking about? She said she was leaving this morning.”

“I did not give her one,” he confirms. “I have a feeling-”

Logan cut him off before the professor could continue. His jaw was clenched tight as he spoke the words. “She left.”

A tense silence took over the room, Charles watching Logan with a straight, yet dissecting gaze. Logan broke eye contact and looked away momentarily as he felt his heart sink to his stomach for the first time in decades.

Finally, he looked back to Charles with a determined glare. “Where is she?”

The side of the professor’s mouth twitches up.

—-

It only took two days for Logan to reach you. Charles was able to track your location easily as soon as he was asked. It took nothing for Logan to take the bike and peel out of the upstate town. Now, he stood in the rain staring at the shitty side-of-the-road motel with a simmering glare.

His mind floated despondently in the air above him, completely unattached from his body as it stomped its way up the stairs and down the hall to your room. His fist banged on the door loudly, uncaring of its stability under his metal skeleton. His heightened exhaustion and emotions tethered him enough to not let his head fly too far away from him, but the reality was that he hadn’t slept since you left and the only words he spoke were to himself as he practiced what he would say to get you to return.

But then, the door swung open. His mind snapped back to his body as soon as he saw your face, but the pleas he had planned to beg left him just as quick.

“You lied to me,” he growled, he accused, standing in the open door, his hands resting up on the door frame. The rain continued to pour just past the motel covering, evidence of its duration linger in the form of wet tracks down his leather jacket, the dampness of his hair, the drops that stuck to his face.

“Logan-”

“You lied to me, Y/N,” he repeated, a new kind of angry heat simmering in his eyes. “You were not leaving for a mission.”

You take another deep breath. “‘M leaving for good,” you utter softly, your hands trembling slightly at the first out loud admission of what you had planned to do. You circled the back in the room, putting the cheap mattress in between you as some sort of barrier. The duffle bag he saw you packing days ago sat mockingly between you both.

“Come on, what the fuck? ‘Leaving for good’?” He asks incredulously, taking a step forward and letting his arms drop to his sides. “You were going to leave the mansion, just like that?”

You stare at the duffle’s opening, having only reached that motel hours ago, not long enough to unpack the only remaining items you had. “I can’t stay, Logan,” you say softly, not moving to look at him. “No matter how careful I am, no matter how hard I try, I can’t control it, I can’t control me. Even Charles doesn’t know what to do with me, I-I had to leave, it’ll be better for everyone.”

“No,” he says defiantly, moving cautiously closer around the side of the bed. “Not everyone.”

The tears welled in your eyes at his words, unable to stop them from falling and you crossed your arms in front of you protectively, the tear-stained cuffs of the hoodie, his hoodie, pushed up your forearms. “Why are you here, Logan?”

“Why am I- are you stupid?” He scoffed, causing you to flinch at his harshness. “I’m here to bring you back. You’re not leaving the school, you’re not leaving me alone-”

“You don’t want me,” you cried, with tears streaming down your face as you shake your head. He can feel his heart break at the side of your distress. “None of you do. I nearly struck all of you the other day, just because I got emotional. I almost hurt you, and that’s the last thing you need, Logan.”

Logan quickly moves closer to stand in front of you and cups your cheeks, bringing your wet eyes to his. “Don’t you get it,” he says with a strained, rough voice. His thumbs sweep gently under your eyes to brush away the tears. “You are the only thing I need. Fuck everything and everyone else.”

Your hands come up to hold onto his wrist, keeping his hands exactly where they are on your face. “Logan-” you stutter as you search his eyes almost hopefully. “What are you saying?”

There’s a brief silence in between your soft sniffles and the sound of the rain on the other side of the motel door. When Logan speaks again, it is deliberate, and it’s what he wanted to say all along. “I’m saying I am nothing without you, sweetheart,” he urges, his thumb pulling your bottom lip from your teeth. “I was nothing before you, and I know that if you leave now, I’ll be nothing all over again. Not a single person in that school wants you to leave, me especially.”

You squeeze your eyes shut in time with the hopeful clenching of your heart, forcing tears out as you do so. You rest your forehead against Logan’s as he continues. “Please,” he nearly whispers, his nose bumping against yours. “Come home with me and turn nothing into something again.”

You nodded against him and spoke a wet “okay” before pressing your lips, finally, against his. And, just as you had predicted you would several nights ago, you gave in.

_____

a/n: quickly posting this bc if i keep staring at it i'll never post it pls tell me how i did :D logan smut comin soon, pls like, comment, reblog

#logan howlett x reader #logan x reader #wolverine x reader #marvel #wolverine #logan howlett #xmen wolverine #xmen #mutant!reader #ivybucky

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valsdelulucorner · 1 day

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Tears too holy for thou

Lucifer ---> Mammon - Leviathan - Satan - Asmodeus - Beelzebub - Belphegor

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He was so frustrated, why was he always getting blamed for everything that happened in this damn house! First Levi looses one of his mangas and snitches on lucifer when it was under his sheets the entire time, then someone eats the lunch he had made for you and himself, now hes being accused of stealing money from someone when he was just trying to get something from the other room! He is entirely sick of it! Why was he the only one that gets yelled at when he falls into his sin when everyone else gets away with falling for theirs?!

Storming into his room, he didn't realize the tears streaming down his cheeks while he just wanted to scream. He didn't know what to do once inside his room, just standing there while he simmered in his own anger. You were waiting on his sofa for him to continue movie night when he stormed in, expecting a happy mammon with snacks, not a mammon with burns all down his face.

It didn't take long before you came over to him, being careful around him as you didn't know what exactly happened for him to be pushed into this state. "Mammon? Are you alri-" You couldn't even finish your sentence when he grabbed you and held you close to his body, letting out silence sobs into your neck while his face ached and burned, his tears feeling funny against your skin. ".... 's not fair...." It was then when you got a basic idea of what had just went down.

You both moved this to the bed, him hiding his face against your chest while he basically coiled his arms around your waist, legs entangled with eachother while your fingers played with his hair. You didn't push him to explain what had went down with his family and you could tell he appreciated it, having someone to just lay with him instead of pushing him to talk was something he needed right now.

After maybe an hour or so just laying with eachother, he could feel your hand carefully cupping his cheek, whincing slightly as your thumb gently ran over the sensitive skin. "Mammon.... oh, your poor cheeks" He could see the worry in your face as your eyes locked onto the sensitive skin of his cheeks, glued to the red, angry marks that burnt away at his skin.

He didn't respond, instead, taking your wrist in his hand and pulling it away from his face, interlocking your fingers before kissing your knuckles. "Don't worry about it, 's nothing the great mammon can't get over", his comment making you chuckle slightly, smiling himself as your voice sounded like music to him.

When tears are too holy for thou, its nice to have someone who will just hold you, letting you know they care through actions instead of words.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Haha, fingers go brrrrr

Im really not good at adding speach into fics, bro you do you do it.

This fic is based off of my headcannon that angels have holy water tears and fallen angels keep that gift when they fall, their tears burning their skin and eyes whenever they cry.

Close to midnight, its and im still stalling my college work lmao. Please mind the spelling and grammer

#valsdelulucorner #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me x reader #obey me x mc #obey me one master to rule them all #obey me nightbringer #obey me angst #obey me fluff #obey me fanfic #obey me mammon fluff #obey me mammon #obey me mammon x mc #obey me mammon x reader #obey me mammon x you

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candied-heartss · 3 days

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“i might let you make me juno!”

(stanford!art donaldson x fem!girlfriend!reader)

summary: art loves his sweet, little girlfriend, but thinks she'd look even better with a baby at her side!

cw: penetrative sex, unprotected sex (don't be fools wrap your tools, y'all), praise kink, missionary position, "baby-trapping" and references to pregnancy/bearing children (reader & art have talked beforehand), reader is fem and is referred to w she/her pronouns, slight size kink(?), inspired by sabrina carpenter's ‘juno’, really short n not exactly proofread so pls bare w me 😭😭

word #: 544 words

a/n: hey y'all!! guess who's back from the dead perchance lmao anyways sorry for basically being mia, classes have been kicking my ass 😭😭 anywhosies enjoy this self-indulgent brain vomit xx <33

"art, honey... i think i wanna try it..."

ever since those words fell from your lips all those weeks ago, art has been nothing but driven completely wild.

almost every night, after coming home from a particularly long practice match or studying, it would always end the same. you bent over or laid up on the nearest piece of furniture while he pounded into you like no tomorrow.

now, of course, you loved it all. the sloppy, almost clumsy nature of his hastily timed thrusts, the tight, but loving grip he held on your hips and thighs, and the praise that would fall off of his tongue like sugar.

"doin' so good, sweet girl... love this cunt, love you s'much... wanna give it to you..." he would murmur into your ear, hips colliding with yours.

"want it... please, art... want it sooo bad." you would cry out softly, only to gasp whenever he would inevitably give in to your pleas and press you tight up against him.

"you feel that? that's me..." he would boast with a quiet, almost prideful chuckle as his hand ghosted over your lower abdomen where he could feel your cunt greedily clenching and taking him in, "god, i just... wanna put a baby in you, you'd look so damn pretty pregnant." and the mere thought of it, you all round and swollen, your breasts tender to the touch and your nipples so easily malleable, especially under art's touch, made you shiver with need.

and each time, he always seemed to know when you were on the brink of a mind-numbing orgasm, as if he had a six sense designated for your pleasure, only.

"c'mon, sweetheart... lemme feel it." he would practically moan in your ear, his thrusts becoming more harsh and punctuated, making the occasional choked whine slip from your throat.

"a-art!... coming, 'm gonna come..." you would practically shriek, clutching onto him as if you were afraid he'd disappear if you didn't. your eyes then rolled back as the buildup finally came crashing down, rendering you in a dazed state and turning both your bones and brain into a melted puddle. art then swiftly followed with a groan, leaning his head back in pure, unadulterated ecstasy as your cunt milked his cock for all its worth.

as you began to come down from your prolonged high, you could still feel him thrusting inside of you, desperately chasing a release of his own, before he finally came with a hoarse grunt, shaky, pleasured sighs leaving the both of your mouths as you felt him from you up entirely with his cum.

and when he pulls out, it only then spurs on the incentive to finish what he started. moving back in between your thighs, he leans in close to your aching, swollen cunt before dragging his fingers through the spend that dripped out of you before carefully plunging them back into you, causing a weak moan to fall out of your mouth.

"careful, baby," art then muses with an almost playful smile painted on his lips, "we're not finished 'til you can make me a daddy, okay?"

and, god, you swore that if you could, those words could definitely make you fall in love with him all over again.

#🩷 | bee's brainrot !#challengers #art donaldson #art donalson x reader #art donaldson smut #writers on tumblr #i need this mediocre white man i fear #im just a girl

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lexirosewrites · 1 day

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so i was driving to work the other day, taking the exact same route that i always take, and i passed a sign i see every single day. but for some reason, this particular day, i was hit so hard by a steddie thought that i instantly had to jot it down when i pulled into the parking lot of my job. i haven't stopped thinking about it actually, so i made it omegaverse and decided to send it in for slick sunday. this is VERY loosely based off something that happened in my own hometown a couple years ago. (also, for reference, the sign i saw was for a local business called munson construction, so the following thoughts make a lot of sense actually)

a!eddie and (possibly) b!wayne have a construction company. they don't a ton of business, but they make enough to pay the bills and put food on the table. they by no means live a life of luxury, but they're comfortable where they're at. plus, they enjoy what they do.

so, onto plot.

living in indiana, they don't get nearly as many tornadoes as some other states, but it does happen. one spring, hawkins gets hit hard. a lot of houses are completely leveled, even more are severely damaged. lives were lost. it absolutely devastates the entire community. so many families are homeless now. it doesn't take wayne and eddie long to decide that they're going to do whatever they can to help rebuild. they were fortunate enough to make it out on the other side generally unscathed. the worst they got was some damage from a tree falling on their roof, but it was a quick and easy fix for them. they know not everyone was so lucky. they want to do their part.

eddie doesn't expect it to change his entire life.

they start at the emergency refuge shelter. rows and rows of cots set up in the community center for those who either lost their homes completely, or have damages that make it inhabitable until repair. eddie is hardly one step in the door before he's drawn to a certain family. he elbows wayne and nods to the far side of the room. a baby is crying, being held and rocked by perhaps the prettiest omega eddie had ever seen. he needs to talk to him, even if it's only once.

as he and wayne approach, it becomes more and more obvious just how stressed the omega is. he rocks and bounces the child on his hip, desperately attempting to soothe. nothing seems to be working, though. the baby is still screaming, and people are staring. eddie's honestly feels really bad for the guy, who looks so overwhelmed and on the verge of tears. eddie can't just stand by and do nothing. he steps in, offering to help.

basically, from there, eddie learns that the omega (steve, duh) is a single parent who lost pretty much everything to the tornado. he and his daughter have been staying at the shelter, trying to figure out how he's going to get them back on their feet. obviously, eddie is in love instantly, and he is determined to take care of them in whatever way steve will let him. there's some back and forth probably, but eventually, steve also falls in love and they court and get married and blah blah blah happily ever after the end.

(a nice addition: post-marriage & mating, eddie builds steve a dream house by hand, where they grow their family and fill the home with love and support and all that good stuff)

ANYWAY, happy slick sunday :))

ahhhhh so cute!!!!🥺💕

#slick sunday #steddie #steddie omegaverse #omega steve harrington #alpha eddie munson #steve x eddie #a/b/o #omegaverse #my asks

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razrbladekiss · 23 hours

Text

TOLERATE IT | Joel Miller

SUMMARY: an argument with joel doesn’t end the way that you think it will.

PAIRING: joel miller x afab!reader. (established relationship)

WARNINGS: very short piece. angsty argument so if u do nawt want to read, then skip <3. i’m in the middle of an argument with my bf and instead of feeding into it, i have immortalized it into my writing 😊 sorry joel for being my proverbial punching bag ! maybe ill make a part two if we ever make up LOL.

Fat tears spill over the swollen apples of your cheeks faster than you can wipe them away with the already much-too-wet sleeve of your sweatshirt, and the room starts to spin.

Your face is damp with salty—bittersweet—upset, and a splitting migraine is beginning to fester away at the inside of your fucking brain.

“You can’t keep doing this.” Joel stands with both hands on his hips while you’re sat cross-legged on the couch, a cushion sat plump in your lap. “Can’t keep cryin’ whenever we have an argument—“

“But you’ve upset me, Joel!” Almost incoherently, you blabber. “You can’t expect me to be cool with the fact that you were flirting with some—some skank last night!”

He drags his left hand over his face. Joel exerts an exasperated sigh. He doesn’t know how many more hours he can argue with you about this, before he says something that he’s going to regret.

“I know. I was wrong, and I shouldn’t have done it—but why the fuck are you still crying?!” Joel barks. “It’s been hours, baby! Can’t we move past this—“

“No! We can’t!” Scraping your hand across your eyes—all tears immediately drying up—you stand to attention. You smack the pillow onto the couch in complete and utter fucking fury. “It’s been four years of us, Joel. Four fucking years that I thought we were happy—but apparnelty you’re not! Are you bored of me, or something?!”

“No!” Defensively, he exclaims. He’s just as annoyed as you, now. Though he has no place to be. “I don’t know what came over me—“

“Four years. Forty-Eight months I’ve spent being by your side—completely faithful—and you think it’s okay to just fuck around on me?!”

“I’m not fuckin’ around on you!” Mood—and tone—matching, he counters. “I love you. But I was hammered last night—“

I was hammered. I wasn’t thinking straight. I don’t know what came over me.

BULLSHIT. You’ve heard it all before and, frankly, you’re sick of it. The excuses, the lies…Dating a prolific man-whore isn’t all that it’s cracked up to be, actually.

“You need to get your act together.” With a shaking hand, you point at him. Your finger is trembling against his flannel. “If you want this to work, then you’ll stop lying to me—“

“I’m. Not. Fucking. Lying.” Through gritted teeth, he says.

Joel has confessed his wrongdoings, but it’s not enough. To you, he owes you more than just an explanation.

“I don’t believe you.” Devoid of any emotion—any feeling—you state. “You told me that you were going to Tommy’s last night to watch the Cowboys game. But Tommy came here at six o’clock asking for you, and said that they weren’t even fucking set to play! You’re a fucking liar, Joel!”

He backs away with both hands up, completely defeated. You’re tenacious, when you want to be. Sanctimonious. He knows he’ll never win an argument, so he walks away to leave you alone with time to cool off.

But to you—to most people—that’s him giving up.

Joel takes the keys to his truck from the fruit bowl beside the front door, grabs his jacket and unlocks the front door.

He turns to you without even so much as a smile. “Call me when you’re ready to have an adult fucking conversation.”

Joel slams shut the door and you begin to fume all over again. To your left is a picture of the two of you last summer—when you were happy and carefree in Mykonos—and you know that it won’t do anything to help the issue, but you grab it. With a firm hand, you launch it at the door.

Fragments of glass shatter against the door, the floor and fly across the room in every which direction perfectly depicting the current state of your heart after Joel started to break it.

Your eyes are streaming again, hearing his truck peel away from the sidewalk and to god-knows fucking where.

But there’s no use in crying over him anymore. You just need to tolerate it. Tolerate this. Because Joel knows it’ll take more than an “I’m sorry” to really make it up to you.

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x afab reader #tlou #tlou x you #tlou x reader #tlou x afab reader

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jaegeraether · 1 day

Text

Sunsets and footballers (Part 91)

Alexia Putellas x Character (46)

Masterlist (other parts here)

((3.8k))

Due to popular demand, I'm going to post a chapter bi-weekly, every Thursday and Sunday night until we hit Part 100!

RIDLEY POV

The noises coming from Alexia were so much sexier than she could have ever imagined. That wet sound betraying how turned on she truly was, paired with the way she widened her legs and sunk down to take more. She wasn’t used to taking it, but it was never like that between them. There was just… them.

She swore again in Catalan as her head dropped backwards, her back arching and pushing out her excited tits as she came closer.

Fucking hell.

One of her hands was on Ridley’s chest, held there by her own, as her other was behind her and beneath the strap, rhythmically stroking over Ridley’s clit with every movement of the footballer’s hips.

She couldn’t help but reach up and grab one of those exquisite tits of hers, circling her nipple under the pad of her thumb.

“I… yam… close-argh. F…fuck.” God, Ridley loved it when she spoke English. It was such a rarity, but she knew it was just for her. That accent was a fucking obsession for her.

“Don’t stop, Lexi.” Ridley encouraged, meaning both. Don’t stop riding me. Don’t stop touching me.

Alexia’s head came back up, lowering and giving Ridley a good view of her hazel eyes darkening. She hadn’t said anything, but she loved it when she called her that.

“I’m yours.” She said, hard. She was right on the edge. Her movements became slightly slower and a lot harder as she practically started to drop herself onto the strap, her gloriously harsh wet sounds were music in Ridley’s ears. Fuck. Fuck. “I’m… yours. I love you, Ridley.”

She didn’t seem to care that Ridley hadn’t said it back, yet. They both knew where she stood. Admitting it had been a major emotional release for Alexia.

“Ridley… Ridley…” Again, that accent. She was whimpering her name, and Ridley was almost certain that she didn’t realise she was doing it aloud. She was too lost in their bodies.

At the sound of her name being whimpered by her of all people, Ridley felt herself rising to the same state that she was in.

“I’m coming….”

Alexia’s eyes flashed at the admission. Any form of fatigue disappeared then, and she drove reliably with the endurance of an athlete. Christ. Ridley could see it in her eyes. She wouldn’t stop until she’d come under her. She’d ride herself through orgasms if she had to.

“I’m not… going… anywhere…” she knew exactly the right thing to say. Exactly the reassurance she needed. Ridley groaned.

She knew her. Truly knew her, and here she still was.

Ridley uncontrollably let out a suppressed mix of a cry, a whimper, a moan. “Fuck. Fuck. FUCK.”

Looking at Alexia wasn’t helping. La Reina. That determined fucking look on her face. Her eyes. Her jaw. Her lips. Her bouncing tits. Fuck. Christ. There was nothing she could do but lay there and… “Take it like a good girl, Lee.”

Jesus. Christ.

It wasn’t meant to be controlling, but a reminder that there were both equals in the relationship. At her words alone, she’d never felt her body tense up so goddamned tight in her life. “Alexia…Lex…Lexi… fffuck!”

She shuddered as she came under Alexia’s long, talented fingers stroking across her clit; her orgasm dragged out by the feeling of Alexia going through the exact same thing on top of her.

She swore in Catalan and cried out in a higher pitch than usual which shot lightning down Ridley’s spine at the sound.

The come down was a mess of sweat, twitching muscles and gasping breath. They stayed like that for a little until Alexia eventually pushed herself off the toy and leant forward to kiss Ridley on the scar on her cheek.

“Yours…”

Another reassurance. She’d never get enough of that. So much so, that she felt herself starting to truly believe that Alexia wasn’t going anywhere.

Ridley had never been the possessive type of person until she’d met Alexia. And now, all she found herself thinking when she looked at her was: Mine.

“Hold it… hold it… a little bit more back pressure… that’s good… perfect… let it land itself… touching… keep holding…” Ridley eased her through the landing.

The plane slowed down quickly with the drag of the water below, though the water was calm and Alexia had full control.

Ridley barely needed to help or speak even as they taxied up to the jetty and shut down, tying it down. They weren’t going to stay long – just in need of some more fresh supplies.

She finished the last tie-down and stood, pulling her empty backpack over her shoulders, with Chiquito using it as a step ladder for his back paws, his front paws on her shoulder.

She turned to Alexia who was watching her and waiting patiently. She extended her hand and Ridley smiled, feeling new things that she’d never get used to. She took her hand and their fingers tangled, holding each other close as they walked up the jetty. She could certainly get used to this.

They were met by their usual taxi, though this time there were two people instead of one.

Ridley slipped into the back seat, followed by Alexia.

“Is this necessary?” She murmured.

“Extra caution, Commander.” The new soldier replied with a polite smile as he turned around to shake her hand. “After the incident.”

“I’m sorry for the loss of your friend.” She said empathetically and saw the grief in their faces. “How is the other?”

“He’s stable, thanks to you. We’re grateful.”

She could tell they were. Truly. They would never blame her, one of their own, for something like that. The nature of their business was dangerous, and they knew what they were getting into.

“Where to?”

“Just to the markets and back. Quick supply run.”

They drove for less than ten minutes before they arrived at the market. She saw Alexia looking around eagerly at the options, though also more aware of her surroundings since last time.

They parked up the cab, and the two men insisted on staying with them. New protocols, they’d said.

They wandered the markets, picking their fresh food and packing it up into their backpacks. They still had a lot of supplies from their trip a few days prior, and so they didn’t need much. Honestly, she’d just wanted to check the updates, but more importantly, she wanted to get Alexia into a piece of normality. Being la Reina, she was so used to being around people, which was a hard habit to break. It wasn’t hard to tell that she did love the solitude of the island, though. It seemed healing for her and Ridley could see that more with every passing day.

As Alexia spoke to a vendor about the fruits he had, Ridley slid the battery into her phone and turned it on.

The first thing that caught her eye was Blue’s message. It wasn’t urgent, so she skipped it for the update from Duce. They hadn’t found him yet. He was hiding, well, and she wanted to meet up to discuss their plan going forward. She looked to Alexia, thinking, and then smiled, replying.

She took a photo of Alexia before responding to a few work emails to advise them that she’d be gone a little longer. She’d managed to tie up everything she needed to on their flight from Spain and was confident in her team to keep it running for the next week or so. Beyond that – Ridley would most definitely need to be back and liaising with clients. Her company was all based around her and her connections, after all.

She returned to her message from Blue which was asking about Alexia attending an event and read through it. She also said she loved and missed her. Her little baby Blue. She could practically picture her sitting down, writing the message out and pouting when she didn’t get a reply. She knew she wouldn’t – but she would still have been a little disappointed, though she’d never admit it.

“You’re worse than paparazzi…” Alexia murmured, coming close and squeezing her free hand.

“I can’t help it. You’re beautiful.”

She smiled, and although she couldn’t see her eyes behind her sunglasses, she could see the crinkles at the corners. She loved that.

“Any news?”

“None on Bashir. Blue has a message for you, though.” She gave Alexia the phone and watched as she nodded.

“I can do that. We’ll be back, no?”

“We will.. we can fly into London instead of Barcelona.”

“Okay.”

Alexia typed out a message and pressed ‘send’ before she made a few more clicks and smiled. Ridley couldn't help but smile at that happy look on her face. She was taken off guard when Alexia raised the phone and snapped a photo of her looking at the footballer.

“Couldn’t help myself.” She smirked. “We’re even.”

Ridley rolled her eyes. “You’re lucky you’re cute, Lex.”

“Have I been downgraded from beautiful to cute, now?”

“Keep it up and you’ll be pretty, soon.”

Alexia stepped forward and took Ridley’s cheeks between her hand, squeezing gently. “I’m always going to be fucking beautiful to you.”

Ridley didn’t exactly have a response to that, because it was true, and they both knew it.

“Touché.” Alexia gave her a quick peck on the lips and stood back, her happiness practically glowing off her. “Anything else you want, Lex?”

“Something caught my eye over there, and there’s some pineapple calling my name.” She admitted, pointing a few stalls away.

Ridley nodded. “You go. I’ll be a few stalls this way.”

They parted, and one of each of the Pa Wai went with them. She made sure to keep her eye on Alexia almost the entirety of the time as Ridley cheekily strolled to the store that had caught her eye when they’d arrived. It was a well-hidden football stall with jerseys and all sorts of other merchandise for a wide selection of teams. She saw the Barca shirt on the wall with Alexia’s name on the back and smiled, though it wasn’t what she was after.

“How much for the football?” She asked in Thai, gesturing to it.

The old woman sitting behind the table put her fingers up in answer and Ridley nodded, handing over the cash with extra as a significant tip. She picked up the ball and spun in on her finger. It was almost brand new, and in the white spaces were simple flowers hand-painted onto it, reminding her of the ones Alexia had drawn on her cast.

She was going to love it. She saw the approving look from her Thai military friend and grinned, hiding it behind her with her hand.

Chiquito purring in her ear; they wandered back over to where they’d last seen the Spaniard. She spotted the back of her first, the top of a pineapple sticking rather amusingly out of her backpack and couldn’t help but stare at her ass as she leant over a table, handing over money. When she realised what she’d bought, Ridley froze on the spot. Alexia turned and her eyes widened as if she’d been caught, which she had. She looked down at the well-loved acoustic guitar in her hand and then stepped forwards with confidence until she was in front of her.

“For you..” she said gently with a humble, almost shy Alexia smile.

Ridley almost cried at the gesture. It took her a moment to gather herself before she accepted it with a deep breath.

She cleared her throat of emotion. “For you..” she echoed, extending the football.

Alexia’s lips parted in surprise and then she chuckled. They both did, at the purity of the moment. They’d each had a moment for themselves and had both chosen to think about nothing but each other.

She took the ball in both hands, studying the flowers, and pressed it to her chest as if to hug it. As if she’d just been given the world.

Ridley couldn’t physically stop herself from taking a small step forward, cupping her cheek with her hand, and kissing her. It wasn’t long, yet tender and expressing what she needed it to. She pulled back, her thumb stroking her cheek.

“Thank you, Lex.”

Ridley ate the last piece of her pineapple and extended a piece of it towards an interested Chiquito. He pawed at it, before sniffing and then licking it. He made a face which amused her and recoiled at the tanginess of it. She chuckled and looked outside at Alexia. She was in all of her glorious nakedness, something that Ridley would never get used to, and kicking her football around. Chiquito padded his way outside to lay down in the cool shade of the sand and watch as she did so. She kept it up for an impressive amount of time until she grimaced and dropped it. Ridley watched as she froze for a second, keeping her weight off her bad knee, before sitting on her towel with the ball between her legs and lowering her head. Ridley’s heart dropped.

She washed the stickiness from her hands and without a second thought, she made her way outside. She settled down on the towel with Alexia between her legs. The Spaniard sighed and leant backwards into her as Ridley’s hand found her knee and massaged the tension out of it. Alexia didn’t say anything, which was a sign of how upset she was about it.

“Take it easy, Lex.” She murmured, her cheek resting against her own. “A few more days and you’ll be back strengthening it.”

“Don't remind me…” she said huskily and turned her head to put her forehead on Ridley’s jaw.

“You don't want to get back to training?”

“I don’t want to leave this paradise with you…”

Her mouth found her jaw and bit teasingly. Ridley felt her nipples harden against her bare back.

“Lexi…” she whispered as Alexia’s lips trailed to her ear, breathing gently into it. Christ.

Still massaging her knee, she felt her legs widen between her own.

“Distract me, Lee.” She requested gently in her ear, her breath teasing a shiver out of the Australian.

“Lex-”

“I don’t want to think about leaving this place… about not being with you like this…”

“I’ll be there, Lex.”

“Work will drive us apart a lot, and we both know it. We won’t be waking up next to each other like this every day.” She was right. “And I don’t want to think about anything beyond us here and now. So…” her legs widened again. “Distract me…”

Ridley let the fingers of her good hand trace from her knee down the inside of her thigh and to the soft flesh at the top. Just when Alexia would think she was going to touch her, she didn’t. Ridley’s fingertips of both hands stroked tantalisingly up the insides of her thighs and back down several times. Only when she could feel Alexia’s frustration did she stroke further up her body, over her hips, her waist, her lats. She stroked her lips from her shoulder across to her neck and to the artery she loved to see emerge. Nudging her chin up with her nose, Ridley’s mouth came down on her neck as her fingers made their way to her tits.

Alexia groaned, her own hands resting on Ridley’s thighs either side of her.

She sucked and swiped her tongue across her neck as she rolled her nipples between her thumbs and forefingers. She continued to do this, teasing her, giving her every piece of attention she wanted except the one she needed; until Alexia was bordering on begging.

She wouldn’t make her do that here, though. She needed to feel distracted. Empowered. Not submissive.

Ridley’s cast hand moved up to turn the footballers head to where she could kiss her, tasting those lips of hers between her own. As she did so, her other hand slid down to the wet mess she’d made. Fuck. She found her clit and began to give it attention, circling her fingers over the bundle of nerves. Alexia moaned, her tongue brushing against her own; her arm reaching back and fingers tangling in the hair at the back of Ridley’s neck. She loved it when she did that – gripping on for dear life. She did it often, too. It only encouraged Ridley.

She widened her legs, pushing her hips forward and almost rocking into her hand unknowingly. As Ridley worked her up, Alexia’s back arched against her, her mouth moving to find her ear and making sure Ridley heard every single gasp that slipped between her lips.

Her cast hand stroked downwards over her throat to one of her tits and gripped on, holding her against her while her hips began to move a little more freely. Alexia’s legs widened again, and she whimpered in her ear.

Ridley stopped her ministrations only momentarily to slide her fingers down, collecting her excitement and dragging it up over her clit as she started again, more enthusiastically and with more intention. She hooked her feet on the inside of her ankles and pulled her legs apart, making sure she couldn’t possibly close them at all while she fucked her.

Alexia’s body began twitched as she came close, like it always did. As if her body was trying to fight it. It was unusual for Alexia to be taking it, just like it had been for Ridley, but they’d both put all their trust in each other to allow themselves to be in the vulnerable positions they had been.

“Fuck..” she whimpered in her ear. “Argh.. Lee.. don’t stop… I’m close…”

She needed a little reassurance, and Ridley knew that. “I know, my girl. I’ve got you.”

Another whimper, this time in Catalan. Christ, she loved hearing her so desperate that the only language she could think in was her natural tongue.

“Fuck… fuck… argh… yes, Lee…yes!” Her pitch raised as she approached her orgasm, her body shaking at the build-up of tension.

The strength of the footballer’s legs trying to close was almost greater than Ridley’s but not quite. Only when she was coming, did she let her close her legs to hold the pressure of her hand there as her body locked up hard before her full body release as she came down.

Ridley relished the sound of her trying to regain her breath and only removed her hand when Alexia slightly parted her legs for her to do so.

“Enough distraction for you?”

“Th…thank you,” she chuckled in response. “I’ll want more later tonight.”

She kissed her on the cheek and admired that happily satisfied look on her face. Her post-orgasm state. It was one of her favourite things. “I think I can fit you into my schedule.”

They sat in silence a little longer, enjoying the feel of each other while the sun set in the distance. The sky lit up a bright orange as it fell behind the edge of the water; day turning to night in the most vibrant of ways. They stayed until it began to get cold.

“I want to show you something…” Ridley murmured. “I think tonight is the night...” She looked at the water, wondering about the time of year. “Let’s go get warm and eat dinner. We’ll come back when it’s dark.”

After their dinner, Ridley went outside to check and grinned at the sight. She went back in and held up one of her shirts she’d folded into a blind fold.

Alexia raised an eyebrow.

“Do you trust me?”

“Always.”

“Come here then.”

Alexia stepped forward curiously and closed her eyes while Ridley placed the blindfold on, tying it gently at the back of her head. She came back around to the front of her and touched her smiling sun sitting happily at the base of her throat.

“Nice necklace,” she complimented.

Alexia’s smile was freer and more herself with the blindfold on.

“It’ll look better dangling over you tonight.”

Ridley was lost for words for a second and saw the Spaniard’s smirk widen as she also realised the hesitation.

“Mmnhmn. Be good, la Reina. I want Alexia, right now.”

She took both of her hands and led her outside and onto the cool sand. She walked slowly, right to the shore where the water was calmly washing in and out with the movement of the ocean. She stopped Alexia in place and moved to her back, her fingers tangling in a hand she held behind her expectantly. Her lips brushed the back of her neck.

“This is one of the only places in the world where this happens…” she murmured. “Are you ready?”

“Show me..”

Ridley loosened the blindfold and pulled it off, tucking it into her back pocket.

Alexia inhaled sharply as she saw the blue bioluminescence of the beach. It was one of the most beautiful things to see, though she couldn’t take her eyes off her face as she looked in wonder. Her lips parting. Her expression easing and looking at the anomaly as if she were a child again. Wondrous Alexia. Her big hazel eyes. Those high cheekbones. That fallen blonde hair, trying to hide her from the world. Ridley tucked it behind her ear so she could see her better in the moonlight.

She couldn’t wait to show her the world she hadn’t seen beyond where football had taken her. To travel. To experience. To do all the little things she’d never had the chance to do. It was one of Ridley’s passions, to explore the world and everything it contained. Until this moment, she’d always believed she’d be doing it alone.

Alexia turned her head and caught her eye. “I can hear you thinking from here.”

“I’ll try to quieten it down.” She chuckled.

“No…I want to hear whatever it is.” She turned taking hold of her shirt in her hands and pulling her hips close. “I always want to know what you’re thinking.”

“Are you sure you can handle it?”

She expected her to roll her eyes, but she didn’t. Instead, she held her stare.

“You know I can. It’s one of the reasons you like me so much.”

She wasn’t wrong.

Ridley played with the blonde strands of Alexia’s fringe, thinking about how to word her feelings, rather than hiding from them.

Alexia was patient, slightly tugging her closer in encouragement.

“I was thinking that I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

#woso #womens football #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso soccer #woso x reader #woso smut #woso appreciation #barca femeni #alexia putellas #fcb femení #fc barcelona #fc barça #barcelona femeni #barca #culers

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smutinlove · 2 days

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i just found your blog so idk if you've done this already but can I request a nightwing with a reader who's insecure about their body?

of course!!

tw/reminders: insecurities; weight gain; angsty

it's a bit short

The mirror was your space. It was where you'd pick out the flaws from your body and glare. And you'd keep glaring until you couldn't. It wasn't your fault that you had gained a bit of weight or your skin was breaking out. It just happened.

You hated it, too.

Once again, you stood in front of the full-length mirror, picking at the flaws and criticizing yourself.

You heard the door to your bedroom creak open; you jumped back in surprise. It was Dick, or, well, Nightwing. He seemed to have just gotten back from patrolling the streets of Bludhaven.

"Babe, hey," you stammered; he had arrived early, earlier than you'd expected too. He took off his mask. "Hey, love," he said, a sly grin forming on his face.

He noticed your grim expression and rushed towards you. "Are you alright, did something happen?" Dick's hand cupped your cheek.

"I'm fine. I am fine," you replied, trying your best not to let down the facade you built. His gaze softened. "It's okay, love. Tell me what happened."

And just then, you melted at his words and found yourself crying into his shoulder as he whispered sweet words of affirmation into your ear.

"I hate it. I hate things... things about my body and the way I look, Dick," you finally managed to confess. "Baby, no, you're perfect just the way you are, okay?" Dick replied.

"No, there are these voices in my head, telling me that I'm not enough, and I can't help but listen to them."

"Love, you're the sun that lights up the world. You're fucking beautiful. I love you, okay? I fucking love you. And I know that you're the most beautiful person," he cupped your cheek. "You're perfect." Dick stated, staring deeply into your eyes.

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xmads-omensx · 1 day

Text

Let Me Help You

Noah Sebastian X Reader One Shot

Masterlist

Word Count: 1927

Content Warnings: swearing, angst, fluff, comfort, crying, mentions of burnout

Summary: Y/N is always there to support Noah, but what happens when Y/N needs support?

The soft patter of rain filled the silence of the night as my sleep-filled eyes blinked open.

I turned my body over to the other side of the bed where I expected Noah to be sleeping, but instead, the bed was cold. He hadn’t come to bed yet. I rolled back to my side of the bed and reached out for my phone. My hand fumbled around for a bit before I grabbed it. Turning it on, the time read 3:43 am.

This was unlike Noah. Sure, he stayed up late getting work done, or watching an anime with the guys, but he always came to bed. It was like a magnet was pulling him back to the soft confines of our shared bed.

I pulled the soft covers back and swung my legs over the edge. I slid my feet into my slippers and padded out of our bedroom and into the hallway. I could see a light coming from downstairs, so I moved towards the wooden stairs and peered over the banister. The home studio light was on.

Noah’s back faced the doorway as he stared, unmoving, at the monitor’s screen in front of him. His black hoodie hung loosely on his tall, muscular frame. His hood covered his soft, brown hair and his headphones sat over the top of the hood.

The bright glow from the screen illuminated the dark room. Noah must have been sat there for a while if he hadn’t turned on the light. He mustn’t have realised how dark it had gotten.

I knocked on the door softly so I didn’t startle him, but he didn’t react at all. I padded over and placed my hands on his shoulders before sliding my hands down his chest to hug him from behind. He flinched as soon as I made contact.

“Hey baby, you okay?” I whispered softly.

“Yeah I’m good, just working.” He replied with a yawn as he ran his hands down his face.

“Still? It’s late.” I asked.

“I’m almost done honey, just go back to bed and I’ll be there in a little bit.” Noah said with a sleepy smile.

“Noah…” I trailed off with a sigh.

“I’m serious babe.” Noah sighed back. “You need to sleep.”

“So do you.” I replied with a slight edge to my voice.

“Please don’t do this now Y/N.” He sighed again.

“Don’t do what?” I huffed, letting my arms fall from his shoulders.

“Fight me right now.” Noah said.

“I’m not trying to babe, I just want you to come back to bed.” I moved to stand between Noah and the monitor screen.

“I need to get this done.” He looked everywhere but at me.

“When for?” I asked, already knowing that there was no deadline for this.

“I just need to do it.” He sighed.

“Baby look at me.” He didn’t look up. “Noah. Come on.”

Finally, with a sigh, he looked up. His eyes were surrounded by dark circles and his stubble had begun to grow back. He looked utterly exhausted. I sighed when his eyes finally met mine.

“You need to rest Noah. Come back to this tomorrow when you’ve cleared your head.” I suggested with the warmest smile that I could muster.

“Baby I can’t.” Noah said with a sigh, trying and failing to stifle a yawn. He rubbed his hands up and down my hips.

“Why not.” I asked quietly.

“I just can’t. I need to get this done.” He replied, voice barely above a whisper.

“You didn’t answer my question, Noah.” I simply stated.

He looked at me with a blank expression. We stared at eachother for what felt like eternity before his eyes started to get watery. Without thinking, I brought my hand up to the side of his face and wiped away a single tear that had begun to fall.

“We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. But I do think you should get some rest. Come back to this in the morning my love.” I said softly. I didn’t want to push him when he was clearly upset and struggling.

“Okay.” He softly replied, his voice still quiet and barely audible.

Slowly, he began to stand up off of his char and took my hand. I began to lead him out of the studio when I stopped, turned around and saved what he had been working on before turning off the monitor and walking back towards Noah and took his hand again. He looked down and smiled at me softly before we made our way upstairs to our bedroom.

I sat back on my side of the bed and pulled up the covers whilst Noah got undressed for bed. When he was ready, he slowly pulled back the covers on his side and motioned for me to come and snuggle against him.

Sleep found him relatively quickly after his head touched the pillow. I threaded my fingers through his hair as his snores began to get louder as he drifted further off to sleep.

I fell asleep shortly after, comforted by his warmth and breath against the top of my head.

ONE MONTH LATER

I stared blankly at my computer screen as I typed random words and sentences before deleting them.

Nothing was working. It was all wrong. My mind wasn’t working.

Looking at the time on the screen, I saw it read 2:53 am. Fuck. I let out a long sigh and rubbed my hands down my face. I had been working since 10:00 am this morning and had been doing well up until late afternoon, when my mind started to wander.

I needed to get this essay done by the end of the week, and it was already Thursday. Well, Friday now. The plan was to get it done by Thursday evening, so that I had time to refine it before the deadline. Unfortunately for me, I had written about a quarter of the word count before I ran out of ideas and my mind started to wander.

I had thought about anything and everything except the work that I knew damn well I had to finish. I had re-hashed drama and arguments from back in middle school. I had thought about re-watching The Walking Dead for a third time. I had researched and made a list of animes that I wanted to watch when Noah went back on tour. I had not, however, done anything about the word document that sat open in front of me.

A soft knock on my office door shook me out of my thoughts. I turned my head to look over my right shoulder to see Noah, my lovely boyfriend, stood in the doorway with a plate and a mug in his hands. I offered him a tired smile as he walked towards me.

He was clad in checkered pyjama bottoms, that he never actually wore in bed as he claimed he was too warm with them on, and a black hoodie that proudly displayed the new line of Bad Omens merch on the front.

“Brought you some toast and some coffee.” He said softly. “I figured you were still working so I thought some brain food might help.”

“Thanks.” I muttered, barely audible over the buzz of my monitor.

“How’s it going?” Noah asked with a nod towards my screen.

“Fine.” I simply said.

“You sure?” He pressed, tilting his head to the side.

“Yes. It’s fine.” I snapped.

“Hey, you okay?” Noah crouched down and placed his large, tattooed hand on my arm. Rubbing it with his thumb comfortingly.

Before I could do anything, tears began to spill down my face and by body shook with sobs.

“Hey, hey, you’re okay.” Noah reassured as he stood taller to pull me into his arms to hug me.

“I- I- I-“ I stuttered through sobs.

“Shhhhh… Don’t speak. Catch your breath first baby.” Noah rubbed my arm comfortingly as he kissed the top of my head.

He slightly puled back from the hug so that he could lift me into his arms. I hadn’t even registered that he had picked me up before he sat back down on the office chair, with me curled up on his lap.

After about ten minutes, my breathing began to even out as my sobs lessened.

“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?” Noah asked in a whisper.

I offered a half-assed shrug in response.

“You wanna know what I was worried about a month ago when you came to get me from the studio?” He said. It was less of a question, and more of a statement.

“I was worried that if I stopped working that night, I would lose all of the great shit we had come up with earlier in the day. That if I couldn’t get that the finished product of that one song to be as good as the very rough demo we had come up with earlier, then the song would never be good.” Noah began, “But do you know what happened after I took a break and went to bed? We finished the final version of Even, and it’s by far one of the best songs on the album, and I bet the fans will agree when the album comes out.”

I let out a breath and brought Noah’s hand closer to my lips, then placing a kiss on the back.

“You need to take a break baby. I learnt that the hard way. Let me help you.” Noah said in a whisper.

“But you can’t help. I needed to finish this literally yesterday.” I sighed in frustration.

“Hey, hey. It’s okay. It’s not due until the weekend, right? So let’s go to sleep and regroup in the morning… or later because it is morning already.” Noah laughed, trying to cheer me up.

“But I’ve not written enough to get it finished.” I gave an exasperated sigh.

“It’s okay honey, I will help you get this done, but you need to rest. And as you know, I am amazing at making sentences longer than they need to be.” I laughed at that. “There’s that smile.” Noah continued.

I buried my head into his chest to try and hide from him, but he wouldn’t let me. He gently cupped my jaw and pulled me into a sweet and gentle kiss.

“Let’s go to bed baby.” Noah patted my thigh.

I started to protest but he would not hear any of it. He lifted me off of his lap so that I was standing. “You have deprived me of cuddles all night and I hate it. You need to make up for the pain that you have caused my heart.” Noah said in a very serious tone, but the pout on his face gave his lack of seriousness away.

I laughed and gently shoved his chest. “Fine, you’ll get your cuddles dumbass.”

Noah laughed as well and wrapped his arm around my shoulder before he began leading me back upstairs.

Like that night a month ago, we both crawled into bed and Noah opened his arms for me to climb into. I complied and snuggled my face into his chest. He let out a content sigh and whispered a quiet “Finally, cuddles.” Into my hairline which made me let out a breathy laugh.

Much like that other night, it did not late long at all for Noah and myself to fall into a deep sleep, comforted by his warmth and his breath against the top of my head.

#noah sebastian #bad omens #noah sebastian fic #fanfic #noah sebastian one shots #noah sebastian one shot #bad omens one shot

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