#i genuinely feel like no one else feels this way

[dante-mightdie]

I would like to ask permission to beg for more bodyguard!price. I’ve only ever seen Ghost and Christ almighty that post you made makes me only want age difference bodyguard!price forever

thinking about famous!reader who grew up in the spotlight so they’re just not very well-adjusted to johns kind nature

c/w: reader is a little unhinged and insecure, reader has mommy and daddy issues, is touch-starved and just wants to be loved, crying, slight nsfw, implied age gap, suggestive content, as always mdni

you really are kind soul, you’re just in the wrong line of business for someone with such genuine intent. you just want to make music, make people happy, sing your heart out and perform but life has a funny way of working out for people

this was never supposed to be your whole life, at most you wanted a little band that met up every thursday and shared new lyrics or riffs. however, with a winning combination of talent and an overbearing mother, you became a big name

you got swept up in tours, launch parties, award ceremonies and red carpets before you knew it. left you no time for a real life. all your relationships were manufactured up in press meetings about how to boost your reputation or sloppy hook-ups in the bathroom at whatever club you snuck off too in whatever country you’re touring in

john felt bad for you, he really did. that’s why he indulged your behaviour. you’ve never had a real positive influence in your short little life :( how else are you supposed to react when this man comes along? calling you sweet names, keeps a protective hand on you at all times, dedicates his entire life to keep you safe

if he wants to act like a husband then you’ll just have to treat him like one. that’s why you’ve taken to bringing him a glass of ridiculously overpriced scotch in your dressing room after each concert, placing yourself in his lap right afterwards with no shame whatsoever. he knows he should push you off, it’s the right thing to do

“did you like my performance tonight?” you ask, staring straight at him with an expectant smile. you give him exactly two seconds to answer before you hat your eyelids nervously, “what’s wrong with your drink? you’ve barely touched it.”

he didn’t have the heart to tell you that the expensive bottle you bought was being wasted each time you fill the tumbler with crushed ice before pouring the liquor in, completely diluting the flavours and aromas. so he just gives you smile, hand coming up to pinch your cheek in a way that makes your thighs clench before he raises his glass and takes a few generous sips of the scotch to make you happy

“you were amazing, love…” he grunts out, adjusting his hips with you sit on his lap. you pout at his response, wiggling your hips to get more comfortable and he curses his body when he feels his cock chub up against his thigh

“that’s all? I made the hair stylist try something different. didn’t you like it? didn’t you think I looked pretty on stage tonight? if i’ve upset you, you can just tell me you don’t need to act like this…” you ramble off, tears welling up in your lashline with a speed that can only make john sigh

his spare hand comes to rub up and down your back, pressing kisses behind your ear whilst he shushes you quietly. “don’t get so worked up. no need for one of your strops tonight.”

you shoot him a mean glare, one that might terrify literally anyone but him. he knows you’re all bark and no bite. you just need a firm hand to keep you nice and sweet. he’s not against offering that to you, as long as you don’t get the wrong idea :(

he’s definitely not encouraging it, he tells himself when he puts his drink down and manhandles you closer to him. letting you curl up against his chest and sniffle against the material of his dress shirt. he nuzzles his cheek on the top of your head before placing a kiss there

he knows you’re not trying to be a brat, you just want his validation. you want him to tell you how good you are and how you can be better. he can smell your insecurities no matter how much you try and bury them deep inside

he’ll shut this down soon, tell you not to let this become more than a silly crush. but not tonight, he reminds himself. tonight, he’ll do what you pay him to do which is to protect you from anything and anyone. if in his arms is where you feel safe, who is he to deny that?

[sharkylass]

YOU I LIKE YOU @faislittlewhiteraven These questions are a little hard to answer with doodles but I tried my best- Nil generally has a pretty heroic and brave personality overall. She's loud and brash and ready to jump into things super quickly.

She's not the best with words, but she is very reliable overall

More art and writing under cut, it's just a long post man-

In terms of helping about during travels, she likes doing a lot of heavy labor jobs- She's the type to fix broken fences, gather supplies for folks, carry stuff around, tend to crops or lend a help wrangling animals. Nil wouldn't be great at things like sorting and organizing tho- Just tell her what you need and where to put it and she will! I mentioned she's not really the best with words (she is very emotionally intelligent just sometimes struggles to communicate stuff), HOWEVER, With folks that have been frozen she connects with a lot. How it's scary that you've been frozen for so long when your entire belief is to change and evolve, how (if Mal Du Pays is anything to go by) they had to fight their own demons in there, how everything can change so easily without you even noticing- It's terrifying to think about.

Actually- a while ago I made battle sprites with Nil- I wasn't happy with them so I never shared them BUT

Specifically I wanted to contrast her frozen sprite with everyone else's- Cause if she were to SOMEHOW be frozen again, knowing what it feels like, what could happen while she's out- It would TERRIFY her instantly. Not just a mild shock or surprise, it would stick with her for a while-

Speaking of battles tho-

Nil is super brash and lively as a whole. She puts up a brave face for a LOT of things, including fighting. She jumps in without really thinking, and as long as it goes their way, she'd have a smile on her face doing it.

However, while brave, it does come from both a place of coping and naivety. She's not used to genuine fighting, in fight or flight situations she actually tends to flee. (Which is why honestly, if she had to fight the King I don't think she could do it-)

If a battle were to start going south, she'd actually start to panic more then anyone else- Physical wounds and seeing the people she loves hurt would lower her accuracy and general capabilities, despite the brave face she puts on.

And due to her lack of experience, especially in bigger groups- Nil tends to... miscalculate sometimes

She had to learn the hard way not to just jump at any opportunity she sees. The party can see where Bonnie got it from (also after the battle Nille proceeded to heal Sif, profusely apologizing, I forgot to doodle that whoops-) (Also gameplay wise, imagine every second turn she does an action of her own without your command)

Also just the Sif image by itself cause I liked it :]

As for chores and stuff-

She does foraging and stuff! Honestly I don't think the other 5 would have done so before they traveled together.

Mira would have most DEFINITELY learned about it but didn't feel confident in her abilities. Bonnie will grab stuff they think is edible from what they remember Nille telling them and they'd grab a stick to cook. Odile would not be interested and would prefer buying the ingredients rather then wild scavenging. Isa doesn't read to me as a biology student, I see him more of a math history type of guy, so either he doesn't know, or him and Mira did it occasionally together, but only as a last resort type of deal (maybe when it was just the two of them and they had to manage alone) And Sif in my mind is an accident prone goober who'd forget which ones are edible and which ones aren't so I wouldn't trust him personally.

SO! LONG STORY SHORT! I don't think any of them are really experienced with foraging. And as a means to make money management easier- I imagine Nil (nature being a passion of sorts to her) took up the mantle! Probably taught the rest how to do it too!

That's it when it comes to stuff specific to her- Other then that she's kind of ready to help out with anything! She can help set up tends, do odd jobs for money, help cook if for WHATEVER reason Bonnie wanted her to or wanted to do something else in that time, bring water, wood, fish, help with weapons- She's not the best at those things, but if anyone needs a hand to be lent- she is there!

I'll be entirely honest, I don't think I understand your last question- But I do wanna say that Nil and Isa become like. Best buds real quick. He is the first one she instantly trusts, since she rivals with Mira, is prickly with Odile and Sif is someone she wants to help rather then ask for help. So if she needs someone to turn to, or needs a partner in crime- Nil would turn to Isa And now I just imagined Mira and Nil bonding over how to grow plants. Cause Mira tried REALLY REALLY HARD and couldn't do it, so Nille would actually love to give some tips- Imagine Mira genuinely walking up to her with a little alive plant with a proud glint in her eyes and have Nil fully support her- Honestly I could keep going for forever, I have so many thoughts on her and her dynamic with everyone- Bro I even have nicknames, you don't even know-

BUT I'M GONNA CUT IT HERE, HAVE FUN, I'VE BROUGHT SOME FOOD FOR NOW-

[42internetgirl]

boat ride — rafe cameron

summary: rafe making it up to you after arguing over his ex-girlfriend sofia.

warnings/notes: fluff, pogue reader but it's not like a big part of the plot, soft!rafe. genuinely think this might be the first time i’ve written something that isn’t sexual/suggestive for rafe 😭 i need help. but i’m trying to write more fluff for him :) if you have any requests please send them! <33 love u all sm. also thanks to @starkeysprincess, my baby, for giving me the idea of a cute boat date that inspired this idea in my head !!!! <3333

pairing: rafe cameron x fem!reader

“i just don’t get why you still need her in your phone, and why she still stays texting your phone!” you get defensive while sat in your boyfriend passenger seat. this was the second time you’d gotten in an argument over his ex-girlfriend, sofia. you trusted rafe, if you didn’t you wouldn’t be with him, but the thing was that; you didn’t trust her. her little texts asking rafe ‘how he was’ or ‘if he was busy and wanted to come over', you’d had enough.

“really? you’re going to genuinely get upset over this?”, rafe scoffed and pinched the bridge of his nose. part of him thought it was funny, only because the thought of you thinking that he wanted anyone else was humorous to him. he literally wanted to marry you, and some random ex-girlfriend in his phone was the last thing on his mind.

“yes rafe,” your eyes widened, waiting for him to say something. “yes i am.”

“s’fuckin’ stupid.” his right hand gripped the wheel, pissed off that you were so upset about his ex still being in his phone despite him always shutting her down. the thing that made you so upset about the whole situation was the fact that he let her down in the nicest ways possible. 'sorry, can't make it. maybe another time." sorry? what the fuck was he sorry for? maybe another time? does he want to see her?

“take me home.” you give up. you couldn’t be bothered to argue with him over this right now. your point always went straight over his head.

“are you serious?”

“does it look like i’m joking?” you pretend to scavenge for something in your purse, embarrassed that this was the second time you had to bring up this issue with rafe. did he not love you enough to just listen to you and block her?

rafe didn’t say anything, but instead put his truck in drive and made his way to your house, it was a silent 10 minutes.

your argument with rafe was long gone, you didn’t bring it up and neither did he. the ignorance was bliss for you, you liked to hope that after dropping you off at home and watching you silently tear up in his truck that night, that maybe he went home and blocked sofia.

you knew that wasn’t what went down, but the thought of anything else happening made you sick. so, you figured never bringing it up again would be more beneficial, even though you wanted to so badly.

“wanna go for a boat ride?” rafe let his phone fall to his chest and let out a yawn, both his hands making their way up your thighs that were rested on his legs. you two had tanneyhill all to yourselves, and sitting on the living room couch both occupied in your own tiktok for you pages was how you’d spent your time so far.

“sure,” you reply softly. one thing you loved about dating a rich kook was getting to ‘casually’ take a boat ride.

“cmon.” rafe pulled you out of your slumped position on the couch. "gotta surprise for you."

you smiled at him, wondering what the surprise could be. rafe wasn't always the best with surprises and such, but the bug smile on his made you think that maybe this time it would be different. his eagerness reminded you of a little boy on christmas.

"after you ma'lady," rafe chuckled and put his arm out, signaling for you to make your way out to the dock before him. he followed after you, "close your eyes." he took both hands and wrapped them around your face, covering your eyes.

"rafe!" you giggle. almost losing your balance, your grip onto his big arms, feeling safe when they're wrapped around you.

"hey! no peeking."

"i cant! with your big ass hands in my face!" the huge grin on your voice could be heard just through your voice.

"m'kay, ready?" rafe gets closer to you, his chest pressed up against back, he leaves a kiss on your ear.

"yes!" you couldn't contain your excitement anymore, you needed to know what your boyfriend had planned for you.

rafe dropped his hands from your eyes, but you kept one arm wrapped around his, not wanting to let go of him.

you were speechless. the string lights set up perfectly, complimenting the pink and blue sky, the wicker basket filled with all your favorite snacks, the white blanket laid across the floor of the boat, the pink and red (your favorite colors) colored gift boxes set up neatly, just waiting for you to open them.

no one had ever done anything like this for you before, tears welt up in your eyes, you buried yourself in rafe's chest, leaving a few tear stains on his grey t-shirt.

"i love you baby," rafe gave you a quick peck on the head. your tears and reaction almost getting a reaction out of him. seeing you with the biggest grin on your face had rafe literally doing cartwheels in his head. he swore he'd never love someone as much as he loved you, but there he was, spending all his money and time trying to make you happy.

"all this for me rafey?" you looked up at him with teary eyes. puckering your lips, waiting for him to give you a kiss, he does of course.

"well who else would it be for?"

rafe's ego would never let himself admit that this was all because he felt bad for arguing over his ex-girlfriend, but you knew it was. rafe had a soft spot for you and you loved it.

"i love you rafe."

[b14augrana]

‘Lacy’

Fridolina is perfect in your eyes. Too perfect, actually, and it drives you crazy.

Fridolina Rolfö x reader

masterlist

Warnings: jealousy and reader lowkey has issues

A/N: i’m the biggest frido fan on this planet so this sucked to write ily frido 🙁. i wrote this at 12:30 am so it’s not very good + not proofread and i’m very sorry in advance

You grew up loving Spanish football.

The technicality of it was your favourite thing and later on, you tried to incorporate it into your own play style. It set you apart from your teammates and made you stand out… until she came along.

The Swedish talent, incredible defender, the attacking fullback of everyone’s dreams. Fridolina Rolfö. You had played against her a handful of times and she was nothing short of talented; she was probably the first fullback you had seen that dribbled so high up the wing with so much confidence and actually managed to make something out of it.

Your usual position was in the midfield, but when your starting right back got injured, you found yourself shoved into a completely new position. You loved carrying the ball up the field and creating plays or dictating the game, but from the back, you could hardly do that. Due to the lack of real opportunities to let yourself shine, Fridolina got all the attention. The more goals she scored, the more assists she got, the more headlines she made in German sporting media.

The worst part? She was genuinely nice, so you had no proper reason to hate her besides being extremely jealous. She was kind and always complimented you during training and encouraged you during every match.

Your transfer to Barcelona couldn’t have happened at a more convenient time. Just as you were nearing your breaking point with her perfectness, your contract expired and you signed with the Spanish club. You had no intention of renewing with Wolfsburg, not while she was there. You wanted that fresh start, you wanted to thrive in a completely new place and finally learn the Spanish way of football first-hand.

The first season was amazing. You were breaking personal records and putting up performances for your new club, solidifying yourself as a starting player. You made friends and learned many things both on and off the pitch, and on top of that, you won your first couple trophies outside of Germany. You were at the peak of your happiness.

Of course it had to be ruined by a certain Swede arriving at the club only a season later. “(Y/N), it’s such a coincidence! I loved playing with you, so I could never turn down the contract they offered me,” she happily said to you on her first day. You smiled back at her despite wanting to bash your head against a wall, because you couldn’t find it in yourself to be mean.

She stuck with you during her first couple weeks at the club until she got familiar with everyone else; to you, those were the worst weeks of your life as you were forced to confront the reality that she was perfect as ever and you were sickeningly envious of her.

Over the course of the next season, it became harder to understand how she had almost no room for imperfection. Her only flaw was something stupid like not being able to bake which was something you couldn’t do either, so that didn’t make you feel any better.

Everyone in your team loved her. She was a good player, an excellent one even. She was soft spoken and respectful, and a team player who fit right in almost immediately.

She loved cafés and coffee, like Ingrid. She enjoyed kayaking and swimming, like Lucy and Ona. She loved dogs, like Alexia. She liked to travel, like Aitana.

She was everything you wished you could be, and it made you curse her name in the dark emptiness of your bedroom after hours. It made you watch her for a second longer during training, even while you’re on the other side of the pitch. It made you smile at her in the changing room and ask her how she is.

She didn’t even have to try to be adored, whereas it felt like you had been trying to catch anyone’s eye since the beginning of time. She breathed and the media was all over her.

As the season progressed, the envious feeling became a regular thing when you were around Fridolina, so you had gotten used to it. You felt bad for feeling such a way but your heart overpowered your brain and the feelings persisted.

You were having the best season of your career so far, between qualifying for a Champions League semifinal and becoming a league champion once again on top of winning the Copa de La Reina and Supercopa.

During the second leg of the semifinal against Chelsea, you were taken out inside the box, granting your team a penalty. You stepped up to take it with the chance to put you and your team ahead, but before you could even walk up to the spot, blonde hair swished past you and before you could process anything, the ball hit the back of the net and you saw Fridolina running away to celebrate it. You couldn’t even afford to be angry on the surface, because then everyone would know something was wrong and you’d have to come clean and hurt Fridolina and say something that would surely upset her so.. you celebrated with your team. Like anyone in your position would.

That was your breaking point though — her being under the spotlight once again, proving that she’s so magnificent and better than you and perfect.

Perfect, once again.

The worst part was, even as you sat in the changing rooms on your own, fighting back tears, you knew you couldn’t entirely loathe her out of any amount of jealousy. You couldn’t loathe her more than you loathed your own mind, which betrayed you by worshipping her like some sort of idol.

The rude awakening that you worshipped her settled in as you tried to ignore the fact she was the type of person you prayed to be like, to a god you barely believed in.

Fucking perfect angel Fridolina. Damn you.

[11rosebunny]

Turn ons (BOFURIN + SHISHITOREN)

a/n: this is a repost from my wattpad, take this for now as i struggle for my exams…

Haruka Sakura

•Girls that fight back.

He's not so much of a romantic person so many of his turn ons do not have any correlation to anything that falls deeper into the aspects of romance.

But he does get off to the sight whenever you talk back to someone you refuse to let disrespect you. Even if you fight back with him, as much as he may seem he's annoyed, he's actually intrigued in the way you snap back making him grin at your remarks.

Some say he's sadistic for that (Suo).

Hajime Umemiya

•When you smell good.

He doesn't find it weird to openly go up to you and take a wiff of your scent. It was a complete accident the first time he smelt your aroma. You and him met up outside of school for the first time alone and because of that, he was able to smell your perfume.

He doesn't know why it gets him riled up, it's even come to a point when you two finally started dating, he wouldn't remove his head away from your neck whenever you were laying on his bed with him.

•Eye contact.

He absolutely digs the way whenever you two stare at each other. Something about the way your eyelashes bat at him as he falls into a deep gaze into yours makes him lose all sanity. He may seem like he's doing fine on the outside but on the inside, his itching to shove you to a wall and ask what you're doing to him.

Toma Hiragi

•When you're submissive.

This isn't put in a way to come off as sexual, it's whenever you simply comply to anything he says. It may sound toxic but he enjoys it when you listen to his orders, regardless if it stops you from doing something you really wanted to do, making you put on a jacket because it was too cold, ensuring you'll text him as soon as you get home, or when he tells you to help him with something.

Taiga Tsugeura

•Wearing his clothes

His wardrobe is quite boring to say the least; plain colours, bland shirts, and mostly shorts. But even so, he enjoys it whenever he walks by you and notices you're wearing one of his shirts.

He'll know right away that it's his due to the sheer size of it and the way it drapes on your body. It makes him go all giddy and smiley when he sees you. He has to look away or else you'll notice the blush dusting on his cheeks.

Mitsuki Kiryu

•When you're embarrassed.

There's a difference between being shy and embarrassed. If you so happen to get shy, he knows he shouldn't be finding interest in that because that's when you are genuinely nervous.

However, if you do get embarrassed, stuttering all over the place, blush creeping up on your face, eyes darting everywhere but his, a little alter ego of himself takes over in his head watching you melt into a puddle of ice cream.

He finds it so entertaining at the way you can't look him in the eye. He'll accuse you of going red and instigate your fumbling even further just for the fun of it.

Hayato Suo

•Accidental touches.

He tries to maintain being respectful but as soon as your hand brushes over his, his chest accidentally touching the back of your shoulder blade, the way youre faces get too close if he's helping you clean something off your cheek, it drives him nuts at the way you look at him.

He may seem calm and collected on the outside, but with how he's flickering his eyes to your lips and your eyes, you can tell if he wasn't holding himself back he probably would have smashed his lips onto yours by now.

Jo Togame

•When you make the first move.

He knows he's tacky for this but he can't help but to love the feeling of being chased by someone he likes.

He's all up for the way you two basically bicker with each other when he knows deep down you want him just as much as he does too.

He loves acting like he doesn't care till at the very last moment he'll say something so breathless that you'll be thinking about it for the next few days.

•Putting your hair up.

He also thinks he has a type for sporty girls due to the fact he just purely doesn't know what his exact type of women is.

If you're getting annoyed at the way your hair continues to fly in your face, need to focus, or simply just want to tie it, he loves watching the process of you tying it up for whatever reason.

Tomiyama Choji

•Fun to be with.

He has trouble being romantic and when he does, it's usually the worst thing you've ever experienced.

So if you two date, you have to expect most of your time with him to be more like fun play dates.

He likes the way you're able to make him laugh and want to do more menacing things with you, even if it ends up with one of you being in trouble.

•PDA.

You can argue this one to him but no matter what, he loves it when you publicly show others that your his.

If you hold his hand, take pictures with him in public, hold his arm, he thinks it's one of the best things you could do to show off your significant other.

It gives him the sense that you're possessive over him. As bad as that sounds, he loves it when you're willing to be aggressive to other people that try talking to him.

[makuzume]

Toge Accidentally Uses His Cursed Speech on You [SMAU + Story]

🔅Content: angst, injury, s2 spoilers, gn! reader, implied relationship, mentions of death (civilians), slight cursing, Shibuya trauma

🔅Synopsis: After the events of the Shibuya Incident, you haven't heard from Toge ever since. You decided to go to him but the both of you get into an arguement and out of frustration... he spoke.

🔅a/n: This is essentially a "PART 2." Read [Texting Them During the Shibuya Incident] for better context and setting the mood

🔅Toge Inumaki🔅

🔅Word Count: 3.3K words

....

You jumped off of the stone wall, trying to gently land over some of bushes, trying your best to absorb most the shock onto your healed leg. However, the pouring rain caused the soil beneathe you to turn into wet mud, causing you to lose your balance and immediately slip upon landing.

You slightly winced, hurt as your whole body fell further into the ground, failing to protect your broken leg from receiving zero pain.

'I deserved that' you thought to yourself. Afterall, there was no one else to blame this accident on other than you.

You came here on your own accord, jumping over a wall no one told you to, who else would have been responsible? 'Maybe Toge, if only he had sent just one text message explaining himself', you thought to yourself in your defense. But still, you honestly can't bring yourself to blame him, afterall, you figured he's been going through so much right now.

From the window, Toge saw your failed attempt at a perfect landing, and without a second thought, he quickly stood up and put on his robe, immediately hurrying to tie the knot closed, rushing to get to you.

Instinctively, he went to reach for both strings of the robe, but it was only when he couldn't feel the soft, towel-like strips of one of fabrics did a sudden realization hit him:

His arm. He only had one arm now.

It was another instance for him to be reminded that he had lost a part of his body: a horrible mark of the events in Shibuya, a memory of all the lives he wasn't able to save, a reminder of all the friends he had failed to protect....

A sickening darkness grew at the pit of his stomach once more as he recalled all those horrible memories.... it was the same awful feeling he'd been experiencing these past few days while he was all alone, trapped in his room, and never even having a second's worth of peace.

Shaking his head, he pushed away those thoughts for the time being and just let the robe loosly hang over him, his only arm going inside one of the sleeves.

Toge was still not used to how to maneauver his body right now, so much so that he still has to even remind himself from time to time about the new state of his physical appearance.

He hurried out of his room and into the garden, little splashes from the puddles staining his legs on the way. When he reached you, you open your eyes, taking your attention off of the pain you felt in your leg to find Toge hovering over you.

Surprised you were when you first laid eyes on him. He was wearing his robe open to you, allowing it to show all the dark bruises, scars, and thick bandages covering his bare upper torso. It was a painful sight to see.

Other than the appearance of his physical condition, he looked awful, emotionally. The bags under his eyes becoming evidence for his lack of sleep while his pupils showed a loss of light in them. His expression was exhausted, and his aura was different- not like the usual playful and relaxed Toge you once knew.

Seeing him as he stood in front of you now.... it felt like he was a different person, and you were taken aback for a moment because of it.

"...Mustard leaf?" His voice was dry and his tone low- more empty of life.... but he still somehow manage to speak with just a bit of genuine concern as his eyebrows expressed slight hints of sadness and worry.

His form slowly crouched down, mildly struggling to bend downward himself from all the injuries he had on his side.

Using his only arm and his body as a support for you, he helped you stand up. You were able to feel him struggle slightly, Toge's body slightly more unsteady and frail as the both of you walked- His breath quietly quivering with each step, and he would take a sharp inhale of air every time you leaned just a little too much on him as he helped carry you over to the nearest gazeebo.

You felt bad for making him lift you... for making him drenched along with you.

Regardless, even if you refused, no way would Toge leave you alone in the rain, all sad and pitiful.

Despite the fact that he had been ignoring you for days, his actions now had served as a reminder that he did in fact still cared about you, you took note.

Yes, there had been a bit of akward tension with the current situation the both of you were in, but he would never even dare of becoming so uncaring and hurt your feelings to do anything like that

...right?

Toge was trying to carefully set your body down on one of the benches, mildly challenged as he did so while keeping his gaze low.

Perhaps he was embarassed that he's not used to maneuvering around with a missing arm just yet, or he's embarassed at the fact you came all this way and somehow endded up getting hurt just because he never replied to you.

You felt small stinging sensations underneathe your cast as you were as you gently settle on your seat, slighthly gripping your fist to hold back the pain you felt in your right leg.

You spoke up, a bit embarassed "... sorry... for making you come out like this..." A quiet moment passed before he responded by shaking his head gently, lightly waving off his hand as he gestured a polite 'don't mind it'.

It was silent, only the sounds emitting noise being the rain hitting the soil and the droplets trippling the roof above you.

"Salmon roe." Softly, he spoke, and you slowly drove your gaze towards him, his eyes looking at you seriously. With slow movements, he gently gestured towards the house, then towards the garage, then at you. Your eyes furrow at the action, understanding what he wanted to comunicate despite lacking the use of words.

"...No, I don't want to be taken back to the school after a shower." You said quietly, a slightly stubborn attitude taking over as you look away in disagreement. But this wasn't a good time to argue. He absolutely wasn't in the mood to bicker and wanted to get away from anything and everything stressful adding to his plate.

He gestured again to the house, then at the garage but a bit more sternly, to which you reply a cold hard refusal.

"...No." in an equally stern attitude, you stated, a slight glimpse of sorrow seeping through your voice as you look down "....I'm not going."

Toge showed hints of frustration, his expression a bit more irritated but also trying his best to retain his composure towards you, but his emotions were beginning to get the best of him once more.

It wasn't like Toge at all: Toge who was always so patient and calm... what exactly changed him since Shibuya? One can't help but wonder what were all the things a person had seen to make him act so different.

"Toge. Look at you. You were already gone for DAYS and not talking to ANYBODY" You gestured towards his body then at his face worriedly "You're thinner and lost the hope you had in your eyes... what happened to you..? What did you see...?" You spoke with worry. "it's scary to think what else you're going through while you coop yourself up in that room by yourself...."

He remained quiet, understanding where you're coming from.

It did make him feel a bit bad, suddenly leaving everyone to find out for themselves what was happening to him. But he figured that everyone was probably having their own mental breakdowns during this time as well, so maybe they need some time to process it too-... or that's what he wanted to believe the case to be.

In truth, he just wanted to rot and drown in his own suffering alone.

You were his best possible source of comfort, and he never even given himself the choice to be consoled by you. In fact, you were the last person he wanted to be with right now.

He didn't deserve your affectionate gazes, your gentle touches, your soft voice, your reassuring words... he knew you would be the gateway to end his suffering... but that's the thing, he refused this comfort willingly, he doesn't want this depressing feleing to end.

Toge let himself sulk in his own misery, torturing himself. All because he believes he deserves it.

"Toge, I know it's just horrible, everything. It's absolute bullshit.. But I hope staying quiet here for days had given you the time you needed to be by yourself.... staying alone in your room any longer might do more damage to you than you think."

You were right, he thought. But it didn't matter to him.

He wanted to drown in suffering, hoping one day he may never wake up from it.

But that would mean escaping his own sins- so he always found himself needing to take back what he said mentally, remembering to endure the twisted thoughts seeping into his mind.

"Toge... I saw their bodies too... some of them, at least... When they took some of them back to the hospital... Our friends..." your voice spoke weakly, almost as if it was about to break as you lightly tremble.

You weren't there, and you felt bad about it. The most you could've done was helping in treating the survivors with your amateur use of Reversed Curse Technique while listening to their horrific experiences.

"... I can't unsee it... though... it made me think about you... I can't ever imagine what it must've been like for you in there." With a shakey breath, you whispered, trying to even comprehend the scenes he must've witness or the weight of responsibility Toge must be pinning on himself.

Suddenly, a wave of flashing images enter Toge's mind as if a slideshow started playing. The memories were accompanied by the same sinking and gut wretching feeling he had during that night, the same feeling he thought he was able to surpress well enough these past few days for it to never re-emerge again.

You lifted your head towards him, a knowing look and spoke with s worried tone. "Toge... whatever happened to the civilians in Shibuya was not your fault."

Your sudden choice of words had taken him aback.

'You heard what happened?' He first thought to himself, but then an immediate tightness was present in his chest and his breath had gotten caught in his throat.

'That's wrong.'

'It was my fault.'

'I led them there.'

'All the civilian's deaths were because I led them there. All of them.'

He didn't want you to know, he prayed you wouldn't find out.

There was so much shame that he felt whenever he would remember that he was the cause for leading so many people to their deaths.

He felt so much shame that he couldn't even dare face you, which was another reason why he's been pushing you away for days on end.

"...I can't imagine what you must've felt, but I know it was horrible." You said, speaking with such a pained and concerned voice.

You understood how this might've made Toge feel, and you knew he would be blaming himself for all the unpredictable deaths of those innocent lives that were caught up in Sukuna's attack... which is why you made the effort to be there for him.

"...n..."

His voice hitched quietly, his mind whispering for you to stop. His breathing got heavier as if the air suddenly thickened; His jaw lightly trembling as he remembered.

Everything else around him becoming mere background noise to him, his awareness to his surroundingsfading. He couldn't think straight.

You noticed his sudden shift in behavior, his previous stoic and serious demeanor disappearing. His body was tensed and his expression stiff, terrified even.

"....s...to..."

It was barely audible, and all you could hear was a low and shakey grunt.

"What...?" Was all you could reply, unable to hear his quiet whispers.

"....n...o."

Once more, he silently whispered.

Concerned, you slowly began reaching for him, ever so gently touching his arm with the tips of your fingers to ease him, to ease his nerves, however, it only did quite the opposite.

At the moment, he only felt your touch, every other one of his senses drowning into nothigness. The moment your hand glazed the skin of his arm, the memories suddenly flooded his mind. The deaths of civillians, the transfigurations, the sorcerers getting killed... It was all too much for him. Too much.

Overwhelmed, he did the unthinkable. Suddenly...

"G..."

He spoke.

"..GET AWAY FROM ME" Toge yelled, quickly retracting his arm away from you by instinct.

With that being said, the curse fulfilled the command.

The next thing you knew, you felt yourself harshly sent flying from one end to the other, across the entire backyard of the clan's abode.

It didn't feel like it was just a gust of wind like you had imagined, no. It felt like suddenly being struck by a train at high speed or hitting the concrete after falling from a building the second the curse was activated.

Toge's eyes widened and immediately snapped towards your direction when he heard the sound of your voice screaming as you were being thrown.

It didn't help that your instincts came at the worst possible time. In a pitiful attempt to lessen the impact of the fall, you allowed your body to make use of its training, instinctively posing the way you were always taught to land while sparring with Maki and the others.

Though you forgot to take into consideration the handicap you had at the moment, and unfortunately for you, your feet would need to be the first to hit the ground with the stance you thought could protect you best.

It was a big mistake- The fall absorbed all the shock which injected itself onto your already broken leg.

You released a scream, but you still couldn't stop the landing just yet. As the force of the throw continued to push you forward, you end up rolling for a few more meters before abruptly hitting the wall on the other side of the garden. Your senses numbed for a moment and your vision blurred; Your mind was disoriented, but your heart was crushed.

It was fucked, your leg, that's what you were sure of. Not even your level of healing could save this one, bitterly you thought as you tried your best to use your reverse cursed technique to at least lessen the pain.

Shock overwhelmed Toge- it would've had him frozen in place but his insticts made him disregard all his negative thoughts and sprint towards you faster than he had the time to even register what had just happened.

Once he reached you, he quickly crouched down, not caring about the pain he felt as he did so, observing your current state, his mind clouded with shame.

He hated himself. Every fiber of his being hated himself for hurting you. He felt disgusted over his cursed speech for ever doing this to someone as kind, understanding, and loving as you.

Everything Toge had ever feared to do... ever since he was young....

He let this happen again... to someone he loved.

For a moment, Toge was a bit relieved to see you still able to move... but the overpowering amount of guilt still filled him to the core.

He wanted to call out your name, but stopped himself for a second as he took the time to think if it was a 'safe word' to say that wouldn't activate his curse again. Afterall, he's already done so much damage of using it just once on you.

"Y-.... y/...n...." anxiously and hoarsly he spoke, his voice low, unsure on how to approach the situation.

With his hand reaching out to you, hesitantly he spoke again "...y/n."

Very slightly, your body gently back away from his reach, a sign he immediately took to back away from you: You didn't want him to get near you. Were you scared of him? Did you hate him? Had he broken your trust?

As your mind began to defog, you sat up slowly, bit by bit regaining more of your vision again. The pain was slowly seeing in more to your broken leg as you gripped the upper part of your cast, grinding your teeth, and silently trembling. Toge could only watch in horror as he takes a few seconds to reflect on his own actions.

You were quiet. Extremely quiet. He hated it. Why aren't you yelling at him? Cursing at him? What were you thinking? How hurt are you? The only sound being the drops of rain hitting the ground as you looked down with a look of disappointment visible in your expression, slowly regaining your composure.

With a heavy sigh to calm your uneven breath, you spoke "... I know you're hurting... I am too... but the last person I thought that could ever hurt me.... was you." You spoke quietly and slowly, your head low and your voice dejected, still gripping on your leg as your breath further turned uneven.

"y/n.... I..." He immediately paused again, stopping himself from even risking the accidental use of his speech again. He hurriedly tried to take his phone, rummaging through his pants as his hand trembled, but before he could even begin typing what he wanted to say to you, you weakly raised your hand, stopping him.

"I shouldn't have pushed you." You looked at him as your eyes had small pools of droplets resting at the lids of your eyes- droplets he knew were not because of the rain. Your caring, gentle, and soft gaze fading, just like how he felt your trust in him starting to disipitate

You made a few attempts to stand up slowly, failing miserably each time as Toge had his hand hover over you, wanting to assist you but respecting the boundaries you had just put up.

It still hurt though, pretty bad. But honestly what hurt most was not the fact you were thrown across an entire backyard, but because Toge had used his curse on you.

Falling onto the ground again after another failed attempt at standing up, he reached for you, but pulled back the last second- afraid to hurt or even scare you.

A second of panic passed before he gestured towards the house and signals you to wait.

He hurriedly run inside to call someone else to assist you. It took only less than a minute for him to find someone to hurriedly run back into the garden with him, and once outside, he immediately looked over to where he last left you only to find no one.

You were gone.

Confused and panicked, he immediately began searching the area, calling your name while his body was numbing all the pain he was having from all the movements he was making right now.

"y/n..." He called out to you, his tone sounding slightly beggining to sound desperate "y/n...!" With a little more volume, Toge yelled.

He wanted to talk to you, help you, at least aid you and get you dressed before sending you a car ride home if you didn't want to see him right now.

In the streets, he looked left and right for any clues that you might've left as he was mentally cursing himself for letting you leave the place in such a state.

He curses himself under his breath. Oh how he wished that he could have been actually affected by it, for he deserved it.

Immediately, he brought out his phone, opened your contact, and quickly stared tapping on the keyboard.

y/n

pls

wait

waiy pls

come back

i didnt meanm it

promisr to god i dindtt mean what ibsaid

i didnt menan to spoeak

i didnt mean to say sanythjng to you

im sorry

im so sorry

it was my failt im so sorry come back

im sorry i hurt you

if u dont want tk talk to me plesase let me get someone to take you home ols

please

im so sorry

---///-----///-----///-----///-----///-----///-----///---

THIS IS SUCH AN INTERESTING PROMPT I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR SOMEONE TO MAKE THIS BUT IT WAS TIME TO TAKE MATTERS INTO MY OWN HANDS

Next Part: They fix it, they don't, or it never gets a third part who knows where the tides will take me🫡

[Honestly felt like I lost my touch in writing long fics ever since the last one I wrote </3 the writing is not giving much for me. I need to work on my craft again :')]

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Tags list: @zhenyuuu @megumisdivinedogs

[zukosdualdao]

“this isn’t fair! everyone else seems to trust me now. what is it with you?”

i hate how this line gets treated by zuko/zutara antis as evidence of zuko acting entitled to her forgiveness and him being in the wrong for the whole epiosde.

for one thing: zuko doesn’t even ask for her forgiveness here, let alone demand it. he sees the issue as being one of trust, and he is genuinely trying to figure out why she, specifically, doesn’t seem to trust him when he’s that’s the biggest reason he imagines for her reacting the way she is, and the rest of the gaang does. it’s only when she brings up ba sing se that he realizes how badly he hurt her on an emotional level, how she wanted to trust him then.

do i think he wants her forgiveness? well, yeah! he cares about what she thinks of him, he literally says it. but he doesn’t demand it of her; he is genuinely trying to figure out how to resolve this conflict.

and hey, i’m willing to own up to the fact that “this isn’t fair” isn’t a great opening line on that front, and that there’s a level of immaturity to it. katara’s behavior toward him was extremely understandable. but people act like zuko spends the entire episode acting that way when, upon katara’s response, he grows visibly remorseful, asks what he can do to make it up to her, and spends the rest of the episode trying to help her.

i’m also just a little defensive of zuko’s right to be immature, i guess. i feel like an unfair expectation gets put on him, by his detractors, that if he shows he’s still at all flawed in some way or another, that nullifies his redemption. and that’s just not how it works? he’s still a teenager, and a traumatized one, at that. he’s still learning, still working through a lot, and he’s certainly not always going to know the right thing to say or do. it does matter that he’s trying, even if he doesn’t always get it exactly right.

[ghoulfuckersincorporated]

your ghoul fics have me in a fuckin chokehold 😭😩 there's nothing i love more in life than a scary sexy man w questionable morals

not to be horny in anon but like... imagine the reader, after having been traveling together for a while, being an insufferable brat for a couple days, just tap dancing on coop's last nerve- but he's not gonna get rid of you, he's seen you in action, despite his lone-ranger status, you're too useful. too skilled. too good at surviving in the wasteland as a vaultie for this not to have been destined. at least that's what he tells himself to avoid facing the fact that, well, poor bastard caught feelings. basically this is a long winded way of me saying boot riding as punishment, cause the man deserves a free polish 😶

Grunt Work

Pairing: Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Female Vault Dweller Reader

Word Count: 3,920

Warnings: smut (18+), BDSM-style dynamics, boot riding, masturbation (male), begging, mild hair pulling, mild cum play, Cooper is a softie (but a pissed off softie).

Notes: Anon, I wish you would've been here to see me read this request for the first time. I think a small part of my brain exploded. How did this become 4,000 words? It may have turned out softer than you envisioned (not the first time I've given that preface/apology and it certainly won't be the last; The Ghoul is soft deep inside and you cannot tell me otherwise!), and if so, I hope you still enjoy. Thank you for reading!

Every day with this girl was an exercise in self-restraint.

Granted, the type of self-restraint varied greatly from day to day, hour to hour. From the moment he had agreed to do business with the vaultie, she'd been testing his patience, his boundaries, his sense of what was normal.

Generally, he quite liked it. It was actually endlessly refreshing, he found, to spend time with someone who treated him like he was human, who he felt comfortable enough to actually relax a bit around. Someone who still had some sunshine left in them. Slowly, agonizingly so, they'd developed a bit of a rapport, then a genuine trust, which had eventually (and somewhat recently, given the scope of all the months they'd been traveling together) bloomed into more. What you'd call that "more", he wasn't really certain.

It had been the first time he'd allowed himself any sort of dalliance in that area since he'd divorced Barb all those years ago, and it had been both amazing and heartbreaking. Establishing that new attachment with his little vaultie had been the first time in lifetimes that he truly felt connected to his humanity, the way she'd kissed him and clung to him and sighed his name just like one would with any normal man.

He really had forgotten how wonderful it could be to be with someone, to let them get as close as they possibly could, even though he looked the way he did, acted the way he did, and refused to take off anything besides his duster, his gloves, and his hat.

He knew, deep down somewhere, that she wouldn't reject him simply for what his body looked like. Not at this point. Unfortunately, her feelings about his body didn't really change his feelings about his body. Still, getting to feel her and hold her close had been even better than he'd imagined.

But that new moment of connection, that next and first step, also meant he was fully closing the door on his time with Barb; he'd always been faithful to her, even after they'd split, since he'd really had no interest in dating again in the time after the paperwork was finalized. Then the world had ended and wasn't even a thought in his mind for ages. It had taken him months to even see the advances the girl had been making towards him, months more to reciprocate them.

As asinine as it would seem, becoming this close, actually giving himself to someone else physically and emotionally, made his two-centuries old divorce finally feel real. His ex-wife could still well be out there somewhere, as far as he knew, but they'd never be together again, even if by some wild chance they were reunited. Those special feelings he'd once held so deeply for her were no more.

When his companion had finally fallen asleep that night, tucked naked and warm against his side and wrapped in the tail of his duster, he had shed a few tears, something he genuinely didn't believe he was still capable of.

She didn't seem to be sleeping as deeply as she typically did that night, but if she'd overheard his incredibly vulnerable moment, she never let on or brought it up, and he was endlessly grateful for it.

Maybe he was just growing soft with old age.

She was also quite the burgeoning Wastelander, a shockingly good scavenger with a sharp eye for value and utility, small enough to fit in places that he couldn't, her little hands quick at hacking terminals and picking locks. But, despite her small size, she was quite strong, able to handle herself far better in most fights than he'd ever expected a vault-dweller to be capable of. He didn't necessarily need to watch over her every single second, but the urge persisted, nevertheless. Seeing her safe, seeing her happy, those things gave him a strange sense of inner peace that he hadn't felt in ages. It had become second nature to hover around her.

Besides, as of late, keeping an eye on her every second seemed to be his best bet to stay alive. He was genuinely unsure if his girl (Was that what she was?) had been dealing with an especially bad streak of luck over the last week, or what, but she was rapidly grating on his nerves much more usual.

First, she had managed to nose her way into a yao guai den and set the thing off chasing her, resulting in him taking a pretty nasty swipe to the side before they could put it down, several foot-long tears in his already worse-for-wear coat. However, she'd apologized profusely, spent a few hours that night mending and patching up his coat. He found it impossible to stay mad at her through either.

Then, she'd done the exact same thing a few days later, but with a pack of nightstalkers. He'd nearly lost a finger helping her fight them off, the shitty little things infinitely more tough than one might expect. After that, she was officially no longer in charge of picking where they slept, an arrangement he hadn't been fully aware he'd entered into until he'd had to put his foot down about it. Whatever, she'd pouted a bit and insisted it wasn't her fault. He didn't love how little she spoke to him when she was pouting, and her resolve for keeping at such things was irritatingly strong, but what bothered him more was how well it worked.

Eventually, he'd apologized for snapping at her. That night, she chose where they slept. He tried to not think too long on why he'd let her.

He didn't fully understand why he found himself acting this way around her, and only her. All he knew for sure was that he'd be devastated to lose her, as chagrined as the admission made him, and so he did his best to make things pleasant to keep her around.

What she'd pulled today, however, had managed to officially piss him off.

After a long week of iffy sleep and more scrapes with wildlife and fiends than usual, they had both been a tad testy by the time they'd reached the shabby little trading outpost at the edge of the Wastes, one of the last places you could reliably stop for clean water and supplies in this section of the desert going the way they'd come from. It was also a reliable place for him to obtain vials, and had come in handy to a life-saving degree more than once.

The girl had gotten slick-mouthed with the proprietor over the price of some fancy machine parts she'd scrounged up, insisting that they were worth far more than he was offering her. Granted, she was right; the man was attempting to swindle her, to some degree, but frankly, the damn things were cumbersome and heavy and he wouldn't even call the price she could theoretically get for them worth hauling them around in the heat. If it were him, he wouldn't have dragged them all this way, and would certainly ditch them now.

For reasons he couldn't fathom, though, her solution to the man offhandedly threatening to just keep the damn things had been to pull her pistol on him, which, of course, had set off an entire chain of unnecessary events. The owner's gun had come out, as well, then Cooper's, despite him actually trying to talk the situation down for once.

The man wouldn't relent, however, and he had been forced to shoot his hand off to end the conflict without her blood being spilled. Well, maybe not completely forced, but it certainly felt that way at the time. That particular trading outpost had been incredibly useful to him for well over a decade, and now he wouldn't be able to return.

If it had been anyone else, he probably would have shot them.

Not probably. He would have shot them.

But instead, here he was, tucked into a creaky old UV-eaten lawn chair, smoking and trying to disguise how unsettlingly happy he was to finally have some safe alone time with her beneath his annoyance at being inconvenienced. If there was one thing he hated, it was being inconvenienced. But, if there was one thing he greatly enjoyed, it was her company, so he was at a bit of an impasse.

It was moments like this where he wondered if he'd finally poisoned his brain with too much Jet or any other number of substances, the haze that consumed him every moment around her thick. Even now, when he was angrier with her than he'd ever been at any point in their travels, he couldn't focus on his legitimate grievance because he wanted her so badly. It was the single most irksome thing he'd ever experienced.

She was quickly sniffing out this weakness of his, perceptive little minx that she was. Increasingly, she was quick to soothe his bad moods with little touches and kisses, and it made him melt embarrassingly every single time. He'd been livid and silent as they'd trudged away from the building, both of them covered in rapidly-cooling blood spatter, when she'd brushed her hand along his back softly; a sort of apology, he supposed. Since then, his main source of anger had been himself and his lack of resolve when it came to this particular woman.

The old cowboy was determined to teach her a lesson today, though.

He'd spent the better part of an hour checking their perimeter once they'd come across this place, and the little sniper's nest where they were holed up had a great view of the area. It certainly wasn't much, little more than a rusty metal panel jammed between some rocks, a mattress, a chair, and a radio. But for the first time in a few weeks, things were safe, quiet, and calm. They had plenty of rations between the two of them, and water wasn't as much of a concern as it had been on their way in. She was so comfortable that she'd actually shed her boots and socks, her dainty little feet curled up underneath her as she nibbled away at something under the ramshackle "roof".

Now was the time. He just had to wait for the opportunity.

"You've been quiet since we left the traders." she said after a while of companionable, though mildly terse, silence. It wasn't a question, but at the same time very much was, and the casual, roundabout way she was addressing what was her own actions made him scowl slightly.

"You've been a pain in my ass these last few days, sugar." he said flatly, glaring at her as best as he could from under the brim of his hat. "Should be happy I've just been quiet now."

She actually rolled her eyes slightly, but clearly didn't think he'd seen it, keeping silent as she continued to eat. Increasingly bold for someone within grabbing distance. Cooper let a few seconds pass, studying her.

"Y'know, when I was in the marines, if you were a little shitheel, they'd make you do grunt work." he said eventually, voice matter-of-fact.

She pursed her lips at that, finishing up the can of beans she'd been steadily tucking into.

"I don't think I know what that is." she replied almost absentmindedly.

"It's the shit work no one ever wanted to do, so being assigned to it was intended as a punishment. Scrubbin' floors, toilets. Peelin' potatoes. Polishin' boots."

She chuckled at his anecdote as if it were meant to be entertaining, but the way he let her laugh hang in the silence, staring her down as she sat there curled up beside him, said otherwise. After a moment, she sort of narrowed her eyes at him, her tone low, almost conspiratory, when she asked:

"What're you playing at, cowboy?"

"I'm sayin' you're in trouble, cowgirl." he replied, reaching out to hold her chin solidly in his grip and watching her pout. "I'm sayin' that I think a little grunt work would do you and that attitude of yours some good, and I'm sayin' that I think you should polish my boots."

"Polish your boots?" she repeated, wrapping her tongue around each of the words like they were foreign to her.

"Pretty sure there ain't a functioning toilet within a hundred miles of where we're sitting, and I ain't got any potatoes. So…"

"You can't be serious." she said, her eyes full of curious suspicion as she looked him up and down.

Releasing her chin, the old ghoul set to removing his gloves, tugging his second hand free and using his naked pointer finger to draw a little 'x' over his heart.

"Serious as the grave, darlin'."

There were a few pregnant seconds of them staring one another down, waiting for the other to bend, to flinch. She even lifted her chin towards him, just enough for him to pick up on, an unspoken challenge. God, she was so like him.

"Now…be good and take your clothes off." he smirked, brows raising when she made to argue in response. Her lips worked their way between her teeth as she hesitated before slowly dropping all her armor from her arms and torso, then drawing the dirty shirt underneath over her head.

"Is that better, Coop?" she asked, letting her hair down out of the knot she'd tied it up into on top of her head, the strands framing her face as she worked him over again with those eyes of hers. Pulling herself up into a standing position, he did his best to ignore the way her bare breasts moved and dipped with gravity.

"Mmm. I think it would be more fittin' if you called me 'sir', frankly."

"You cannot be serious!" she insisted again, indignant as she slid the zipper on her trousers down, her tone making him chuckle despite himself. She just didn't know when to quit, and it was fucking adorable.

"Am I ever unserious?" he asked, ignoring the look she shot him back in favor of watching her slowly work the worn pants down over the curve of her ass, dropping them into a pile around her feet and leaving her standing there as naked as the day she was born. He felt his already-stiffening cock twitch slightly, resisting the urge to rub himself through the faded pinstripes of his pants. This was supposed to be a punishment for her, and doing that would give her too much opportunity to distract him.

"Aww, c'mon, boss." she sighed, pressing at a hidden button of his, cocking her head and sending that silky curtain around her face glinting in the light.

"I mean it, missy. You fucked up pretty bad today, and you need to be punished for it. And what did I just say?" he responded, fighting hard to keep his voice even and body still.

"Well…what else would you have in mind as a punishment, sir?" she purred as she stepped back towards him, batting those long, dark lashes his way. He managed to keep his eyes on hers and off of her body, a task that felt herculean as the ache in his gut grew more intense. For a split second, he wanted to give in to her, to pin her to the ground and fuck the attitude out of her like he'd wanted to for days. But there would be plenty of time for that later.

"I promise you that if you knew your other options, darlin', you'd choose this." he replied, finishing his smoke and tossing the butt away. Digging his inhaler out for a quick puff, he finally removed his hat and set it aside, reclining just enough to allow his feet to stick out a few inches in front of him.

She huffed at her little ploy failing to work, crossing her arms and cocking her hip slightly. Cooper's teeth dug into the inside of his cheek to keep back a grin.

"Well, are you gonna take them off?" she demanded.

He couldn't hold back his smirk at that, his head cocking as he continued to stare her down.

"Just how long are you gonna keep playin' dumb? You know it's gonna get cold when it gets dark."

Studying her face, he could see the faint lines of confusion there, and wondered if maybe she really didn't know what he meant.

"There's a reason I wanted you naked, honey, and it ain't just the view."

Though it certainly didn't hurt.

It took a few long, long seconds of her looking him up and down, wondering, but eventually the glow of realization lit up her face, followed by more brow furrowed confusion.

"How would that even work?" she asked, though her tone was more curious than argumentative.

"I suppose you'll figure it out, huh? Askin' an awful lot of questions for someone who's about to be freezin' their twat off in about half an hour." he said, watching with apparent glee as she fidgeted in place, pulling another cigarette out of his pocket and lighting it.

Still attempting to make a stand, she didn't move, chewing away at that bottom lip as she hesitated there. He could smell that she was already turned on.

"Go on. Get to work." he ordered softly, exhaling smoke through his nose, staring into her eyes.

After a heartbeat, she seemed to accept her fate and slowly lowered herself down onto her knees in front of him. That, too, made his cock jump. Her cheeks had a visible rosy hue as she clearly struggled to arch herself at the right angle to make proper contact; after a few long seconds of her huffy sighs, he took mercy on her and tilted the toe of his boot more skyward, allowing her to begin to rub herself back and forth across the dusty leather in earnest.

He watched as her face slowly morphed from mildly confused concentration to blossoming arousal, the tint in her cheeks growing until it consumed her entire face.

"How does it feel?" he asked quietly, taking another long drag off of his smoke.

"It feels good." she huffed, a light sheen of sweat glinting on her soft skin.

He reached out and grabbed a fistful of her hair at that, squeezing just enough to make her gasp, her eyes flying open to gaze up at him, wide and wet.

"Feels good what?" he demanded. "Given you an awful lot of chances on that, kid. Y'know, insubordination usually calls for more severe punishment."

"It feels good, sir." she replied, her hips stuttering slightly as she struggled to move them with her head fixed in place, her eyes falling shut again. He found it a little surprising that the mild pain hadn't stopped her or made her complain more. If anything, she'd seemed to like it. He took note of that for later.

"Tsk. Well, it's supposed to be a punishment, but I guess I can't help it if a little freak like you gets off on polishin' my boots. Guess I did know a guy in the service who really liked bein' made to scrub the floor, but, between you and me, I think he might've had a little thing for bein' pushed around and told what to do." Cooper's voice fell to a secretive murmur as he spoke to her, watching her eyes dart away as he teased her.

However, as he watched her slide herself back and forth across his foot, he found it more and more difficult to resist the urge to touch himself. When her eyes didn't open for several minutes, focused entirely on the sensation, it would seem, he took the opportunity to palm his cock, his hips eventually beginning to rock against his hand. That movement caught her attention, her gaze burning into him as she watched; this was a button of hers for whatever reason. Feeling emboldened and somewhat sure that she was too distracted to cause trouble, he quickly undid his belt and fly and tugged his erection free, a shiver running down his spine as he gave himself a few experimental pumps in the cooling air.

Unfortunately, he'd underestimated how coherent she still was, her head remaining low, but her right hand creeping up his leg towards his hand. He jerked his chin towards her, sending her jumping back a bit. However, she didn't look fearful, more chastened.

"Don't. You. Fuckin'. Dare." he growled, his hand not stilling for a moment. "If you touch me, I'm gonna put you over my knee and spank your little ass until you can't sit right for a week."

His threats only seemed to make her hotter, a throaty moan leaving her as she began to hump his boot with increased speed, all attempts at preserving any semblance of her dignity abandoned in the pursuit of her orgasm. The grip he was maintaining on himself tightened, and a growl ripped out of his chest in response as he fought to keep his eyes open and on her. If he could still sweat, he'd be pouring it just like her.

Cooper's leg jerked involuntarily as a particularly strong wave of pleasure shot up his spine, digging the toe of his boot harder into her weeping little slit, and she keened in response, her body beginning to twitch all over like it did when she was nearing her end.

"You close, honey? You wanna cum?" he asked feverishly, rapidly sprinting towards his own finish line.

She nodded rapidly, her breasts heaving with her strained breath as her nails dug into his thigh.

"Please, please, please..." she breathed over and over.

"Look at you, just cleaned the thing and you're about to make a mess all over it because you're such a needy little slut." he chastised, breaking down into a harsh whisper as he seized her by her hair once more, his cig hanging loosely from his lips. "Go on, baby. Cum all over my boot."

The labored whine she let out as she lost herself all over him, and the blissful way her face contorted as she cried out, was more than enough to finish him off, his release spurting all over his hand and stomach. They both growled and groaned their way through their shared release, her collapsing against the inside of his leg as she panted heavily. Working to control his own breathing, he let his head fall completely back with a blunted "thud" against the frame of the chair, releasing his grip on her head.

After a few quiet moments, they both rather sheepishly peeked at one another. He held his spend-covered hand up in front of her face, the mess catching the fading light as he reached out towards her.

"You're gonna have to clean that up, too." he said softly, rubbing some of the slickness across her lips, barely holding back a groan when the little pink tip of her tongue darted out to lap at his fingers as they passed by.

"Mmm. Yes, sir." she responded, gently laying her temple against the side of his knee, those big, round eyes slowly slipping shut. Cooper reached out and laid his palm against her head, petting her now-rumpled hair with more affection than he'd like to admit, admiring her in the golden-red hue of the evening sun.

"Don't get too comfy there, sweetheart." he said after a few quiet moments, his cock beginning to stir again. "Don't forget, I've got another boot."

[deadtired-highkeyenergetic]

Enough

*gasp* 2 uploads in 1 day?

Summary: The burden of leadership weighs you down but Astarion helps you shoulder it

Astarion knows what an empty smile looks like. After two centuries of putting one on, he can tell at a glance whether a smile is genuine or empty, and the smile you’re currently giving Karlach is anything but genuine.

He watches as you sort through today’s haul with unfocused eyes, you may be here physically but mentally you’re far far away, an image Astarion has seen in himself many times over. He can’t help but worry, he’s never seen you like this, and as the leader, if you weren’t in the right state of mind, well disaster was sure to follow.

But how is he to approach you? You’ve been keeping to yourself, only talking when spoken to with a tension in your voice that wasn’t there before. Poking one’s nose in areas where it didn’t belong is your thing, not his, and he’s afraid of ruining the relationship the both of you share. He clings onto that relationship like his life depends on it because to a certain extent it does, but also because it’s one of the few things he can call his own and he doesn’t want to lose it.

You head into your tent, the flap swallowing you whole but he remains where he is, hesitation preventing him from following you in. He fights with himself about whether he should enter, he knows he’s welcomed in your tent but he doesn’t want to intrude, so he lingers outside, pretending to busy himself with a book when he’s really listening in to your tent.

He keeps his concerns to himself when you don’t invite him into your tent for the night like you would usually do and heads to the woods to hunt, hoping that the chase will be enough to distract him from his worries but with each step he takes, all he can think about is the tired empty look in your eyes.

After taking far longer than usual to finish up his hunt, he heads back to his tent, ready to turn in for what remains of the night when he hears sniffles. Usually, he wouldn’t concern himself with such things but it’s different when it comes from your tent. He cautiously makes his way over, quietly hiding outside your tent as he debates whether to enter it or not until Karlach comes out of nowhere and gives him a little shove.

“Go on in, Fangs. You’re the only one whom they’ll listen to.” The Tiefling flashes him a grin before heading back to her own tent. Astarion watches her go, and then turns his gaze back to your tent where the sniffles have stopped, takes a deep breath and heads inside.

“May I come in, my dear?” He asks, lifting the tent flap.

“You’re supposed to say that when outside the tent not inside,” you sniff.

He can see your bloodshot eyes even as you try to avert your gaze, see the mess that your tent is in because you haven’t been tidying things up and makes his way over to you, sitting right by your side.

He doesn’t say a word, he’s not sure how’d you react to the practiced words he can so easily spout without a second thought and so he simply sits there, letting you know that he’s right next to you should you need anything. His gaze searches you for a hint of what else he can do and he holds out his arms so that you can fall into them. He curls around you, running his fingers through your hair like you do for him whenever he’s feeling down and feels you lean into him.

Silent tears stream down your cheeks, staining his clothes but he continues to wrap you in his embrace, patiently waiting for you to be ready to open up.

“It’s too much,” you whisper after a while.

“What is?” He murmurs, continuing to stroke your hair.

“Everything. This whole tadpole thing, this whole leading thing. I’m not suited to be the leader, all I’ve done is get everyone into terrible situations and everyone but me pays the price.” You begin to sob, the weight of it all crashing down on you. “Why am I even the leader? Is this all a mistake? Am I a mistake?”

“It’s not.” He says with such firmness it catches you off guard. He glares at you, red eyes glowing furiously. “It is not a mistake. You are not a mistake. Do not ever say that about yourself!”

He holds you tightly, burying his face into your hair. “You are the reason Cazador can’t control me anymore, you’re the reason I can figure out how to love again, you’re the reason why I don’t stare at my body in disgust and hatred anymore. Without you…I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“You’re my everything,” he whispers. “My everything. I want you to see that, to realise how important you are. You’re the only thing keeping this bunch of weirdos together, no one else can do that.”

You feel the dam break and tears start flooding out. You cry, wail, let it all out as he hugs you, clinging onto you. He feels his own undead heart ache at the sound of your cries and wishes he could fight your inner demons for you. Alas, just like how he has to fight his own inner demons off, you have to do the same thing too, but that doesn’t mean he can’t be there for you. After all, you are always there for him when they come, and you’re the one he chose to be his lover. He swore to protect you the day you confessed your feelings for him, and he will uphold that promise, no matter what.

He feels your nails dig into his flesh and winces slightly when they dig a little too deep, but it’s a small price to pay for your comfort.

“When the demons come knocking, remember that I will always be there for you. I will fight with you, protect you because I need and love you.” He’s never felt so vulnerable, his walls brought all the way down with this confession of his but he knows you won’t hurt him.

You bury your tear stained face in his chest, tired from all the crying but feeling lighter because of it. You feel his hand rubbing circles on your back, a comforting motion and your eyes begin to close, your body worn out from the day’s events.

“I need and love you too,” you mumble as exhaustion takes hold, your doubts and worries banished for another day. “Thank you.”

“Thank you.”

[ohnococo]

the opening of a shell / the shell that hides a pearl | Geto x F!Reader

Suguru supports you in all that you do, builds you up whenever he can, especially when he’s got you in his bed and hanging on his every word.

❥ WC: 2.5k

❥ Notes: a request for geto + praise, set in a canon-divergent AU where Geto didn’t defect and reader is a sorcerer with newly awakened powers - but as usual is 95% pwp

❥ Warning: fem bodied reader, praise, established relationship, geto is sort of a mentor to reader due to his experience, pet names (pretty girl, good girl, sweetheart, my girl, perfect girl), kissing, hickeys/marking, vaginal sex, creampie

minors/ageless blogs get blocked on sight

It’s hard to not be intimidated by your boyfriend. Even the knowledge that you and you alone are the one that gets to refer to him as that—your boyfriend—is enough to have you flustered sometimes.

Not flustered exactly… that isn’t quite the right word… and you do always struggle with coming up with the right words to describe your feelings around Suguru, because it’s too soon to use the first word that comes to mind.

Maybe it leaves you proud, or unsure, or even just dazzled that you have such an impressive boyfriend, and that he considers you to be the same. Impressive.

It’s strange how he manages to act as a mentor without making you feel as though you’re beneath him, guiding you and praising you for your skill as a sorcerer even though your experience—the largest division between you two—pales in comparison to his. You suppose he just has those innate leadership skills though, and feel lucky that he sees your potential.

He does his all to make sure you see it too, in every facet of your life. What you lack in cursed energy can be made up for with a carefully honed technique. What you lack in experience can be helped by the knowledge gained through experiences of his own. What you lack in confidence, even if that uncertainty forms for only a moment, can be built with your steadily building skill and Suguru’s mouth, in more ways than one.

It’s something he does with as much ease as anything else. When you doubt if you’re really suited for work you’ve been sent on. When you’re debating what to wear, or looking at yourself unkindly. When you look at him, so lost in his gorgeous appearance that you might have forgotten that there’s just as much beauty in your own. He’s quick to quell any doubts. And even in the absence of those creeping negative feelings, he’s quick to add yet another building block of confidence to what is already there.

Reminding you of the feats you’d managed to accomplish in the short time since your powers had awakened. Reminding you that he’s with you for a reason.

Or, like right now, by lying you back onto your bed quietly, spreading your legs in wait for his touch, kissing your neck and smiling at every noise you make, all while lilting out comments about how perfect you are for him until you’ve lost track of time completely, nevermind any lingering doubts.

“You don’t have to say all of that, Suguru…”

“I know,” he looks up at you through the few stray hairs falling down into his face, “but it needs to be said…”

He brings his mouth back to your skin, pressing kisses between your breasts, lips rubbing gently across the goosebumps forming from his attention. “Until you remember.”

Words from his lips fall with such a playful ease that it’s hard not to read into them. It almost muddies the waters for when he is being genuinely loving and affectionate like this - although maybe he was always being that way with you? Gentle guidance with a heart behind his hand as he helps you find the way to be your very best.

It’s a kind of confusion you find exciting, one you’re sure you’ll look back on fondly when you finally reach that point in your relationship where you can reveal your own hand to him fully. Though you’d be surprised if he couldn’t already see it. From the knowing smile you get with his sideways glance down at you as you steady your breathing under his praise. When you look to him before anyone else when dealing with a cursed spirit. When you clench and swell for him when he’s hardly even touched you, because his words are touch enough.

“Your skin is so soft…”

The first time he’d said it, before you’d even started dating, is when he grabbed your hand to help you up after getting thrown onto your back in training. You’d waved off the feeling it had built in you with an off handed comment about your moisturizer of choice—he’d found that cute the first time. Every time since, though, it’s said with a little more authority behind it. Suguru is stating a fact, that happens to be a compliment, and you’re going to take it for him.

You reach down to grab at his hand and he intertwines your fingers, squeezing in a way that you almost think telegraphs that he knows exactly the memory you’re thinking of.

“I’m talking to you pretty girl, look at me.”

It’s the least you can do, with the way he had your pussy drooling for him, and the way he was undoubtedly going to take care of that for you. Once your eyes have locked onto his, his face flashes from observing to adoring, soft smile tugging at his lips as he trails a hand down your stomach.

“Like I was saying, so soft.” His fingers make their way between your legs, pressing at your puffy lips through your panties, “Especially here.”

His smile widens in time with your brows furrowing at how intense such a small touch was after so much teasing and talking from Suguru. He presses into you again, this time with his finger settled between your lips, and he lets out an impressed hiss of breath at how your clit throbs for him, a breath you take in with the gasp his actions pull from you. Then, the pressure is gone, replaced with him softly gliding the pad of his finger upwards, petting so gentle it would have hardly been felt if you weren’t so desperate for more.

You tense, want to arch your hips upward, to get him to rub a little harder, and he chuckles like he knows, nose brushing at yours. It’s a move that sends your mind into a frenzied debate over whether to close the distance between your mouths, or to angle your hips up in search of the friction that you need. In the end, you do neither, because your focus is brought back to Suguru’s words: you want to hear them too much to kiss him. And once you’ve heard them you want to live up to them too much to chase your high.

“You know what you want, don’t you? But you’re so patient for me. Waiting until I’m ready to give it to you.”

He presses a kiss to your cheek, bringing his mouth lower to whisper into your ear, and you’re grateful to have him close enough to be heard over the beating of your heart—but you suppose he knows all too well that he works you up into such a frenzy that it’s as if all your senses have dulled just to make sure you can savour every touch you receive from him.

Even now, the feel of his breath tickling at your skin is much more prominent than the words floating through the haze of lust surrounding you, though they’re always able to slip into the cracks of your mind.

“Want me to kiss it?”

You shake your head, and he leans back to meet your eyes, surprised at your response, before smiling again as he guesses at why you’ve declined. “You want it already? My needy girl… I love it.”

Hearing that word from him, even when it isn’t followed by that crucial ’you’, has a happiness bubbling up in your chest with such ferocity that you let out a little laugh, matched by Suguru and followed by a hungry kiss. It’s different from the small pecks or languid kisses you’ve gotten so far tonight. His kiss is sudden, hungry, something separate from his usual cool composure, and it pushes you to reach up to him. You slide your hands up the back of his neck, fingers dipping into his thick hair and running along his scalp.

He gives you the reins for that moment, letting you taste his lips, run your fingers through his hair, pull him so close he has to move his hands to either side of you on the bed to keep his full weight off of you. But you want just that, so you wrap your legs around his hips, pulling him further into your embrace until he’s settled between your thighs, grinding into you gently. You enjoy your momentary detour, relishing in the feel of his tongue against yours, before you start to feel that lack of what it is you want most right now—his soft words.

Your kisses move to the corners of his mouth, along his jaw, and settle on his neck. When he lets out a groan, and his adam’s apple bobs against your lips, you’re emboldened to suck and lick at his skin there, letting whatever marks may form happen.

Without words, or without your words, Suguru knows exactly what you’re doing and exactly what you need, picking up where he left off.

“Trying to leave a mark?” If it weren’t said so playfully, it would have given you pause. “Good girl, let everyone know I’m yours.”

It makes his movements difficult, but he can’t pull away from your kisses, so instead he props himself up above you on one elbow while he works his pants down with the other, freeing his cock and letting it press against you as he stops for a moment to let the intensity of your mouth’s work against his skin wash over him. You make a move yourself, pulling your hand from his hair to pull your panties to the side, keeping them held aside as he groans at the feel of the underside of his cock finally being able to press against your wetness.

He stays like this, thrusting gently against your folds, giving you the slightest friction with wet, sensitive skin against skin, until he gives you the final say.

“Let me hear your pretty voice.”

You do it gladly, “I need it, Suguru.”

“No, sweetheart,” He finally pulls back, rubbing his nose against yours and tracing his tongue along your parted lips as he lines himself up with your entrance. “You deserve it.”

He swirls the head of his cock around your entrance, dipping in until just the tip is kissed by your warmth. “For being so strong,” he pushes in, just so the ridge of his thick head catches at your tightness as you clench around him with the anticipation of him sliding deep and fucking you as well as he always does.

“For being so open, so eager for me,” he gives you shallow thrusts, pausing his praise for just a moment to groan at the sticky sounds of him stirring up your pussy.

“For taking everything I-“ he presses deep, one thrust right to the hilt, that leaves him groaning as his eyes roll for a moment and you moan out his name in your own form of praise.

“For taking everything I have to give you in stride, and turning it into something more than I could have imagined.”

You want him to move, you need him to move, though not as much as you need him to continue on. So you curl your toes and hold your breath, trying your very hardest not to rock your hips into his, or clench around him, or do anything that would interrupt his words further until he’s ready to give you what you need—what you deserve.

“For opening me up, and letting-“ his jaw clenches and he lets out a huff, returning to shallow thrusts that slowly pick up in intensity as he speaks, until his voice is hitching just to get the rest of it out before your pussy draws him in too deep to keep his carefully crafted composure, “letting me spill myself into you.”

“You’re so good to me, so so good.” And that’s that, with his next words his pace is set, long and deep with hips rocking up just right to have you making noises you didn’t know could come from your lips, “My good girl.”

The sound of your bodies in motion replaces any words Suguru might have formed: hips slapping together, stomachs sliding against one another, heat squelching as you clench at him every time he’s buried deep. He moans every time your bodies are flush against one another, pressing more firmly each time as though he could find a way further into you. Instead, it slides you slowly up the bed, until your hands are pressing at the headboard, only intensifying the sound of it hitting the wall behind it, but neither of you are concerned. Not when you’re both so desperate to see the other break, to feel the other coming undone.

You get there first, Suguru always makes sure of it. When your back arches and your thighs start to tense, he kisses at your jaw, flicking the tip of his tongue at your earlobe before speaking low. “Don’t tense, don’t tense…”

You listen, as much as your body screams to do otherwise, and as you relax into the steady movement of his thrusts you feel like your whole body is pulsing with every slap of his abdomen against your clit.

“That’s my girl, just like that.”

It feels endless, like you’ll cum until there’s no more air to fill your lungs. As the waves peak and sweep you up, Suguru’s movements stutter, ever so slightly—enough to have you begging in the only way your body can manage as you let out a little whine.

“Ah?” He repeats it, stilted and playful even in his frenzy, and when your rolling eyes meet his he’s looking at you with warmth, devotion, something not entirely unlike the way you catch yourself looking at him. Then it’s like he’s heard your thoughts somehow, just by looking at you, but he wants them said aloud.

“Please?”

You nod, receiving the words he could see in your eyes and repeating them back now that he had formed them for you, “Please.”

He gives you what you’ve asked for, reaching his peak on the tail end of yours as he fills you with his cum, pouring it into you in throbbing waves as his thrusts turn to staggered, rough snapping of his hips until he’s letting his weight fall onto you completely. Your hands find their way back into his hair, running through it, sweat be damned, as he sighs gently.

He lets you hold him, kissing gently at your neck, before he decides he needs more air than he’ll get with his head buried there. He pulls out, slowly, rubbing at your waist to soothe the little shiver that goes through you at his absence, before he’s settling his weight back on top of you and resting his head on your chest. He presses a kiss there between your breasts, smiling to himself as he whispers.

“My perfect girl…”

banners by @//cafekitsune

[skywalker1dream]

Title: Stuck with the stranger

Note:so it's 2:40am I can't sleep and this fine man is in my mind, inspiration 'hating game' hope you have good day or night and don't forget to drink water ;3

part two | part three

Summary:When You get trapped in an elevator with a charming stranger named Carlos, what starts as a stressful ordeal turns into the beginning of a heartfelt friendship. As you two share stories and dreams, an unexpected bond forms.

Warning: Contains mild claustrophobia and brief moments of anxiety.

Carlos sainz x reader

You entered the elevator, you were accompanied by a stranger.

The doors of the elevator closed with a quiet thud, sealing you inside with a stranger. You barely spared him a glance, too preoccupied with your own thoughts. But when the elevator jolted to a sudden stop, the lights flickering out, you couldn’t ignore him any longer.

“Of course this happens today,” you muttered to yourself, frustration bubbling up.

The stranger beside you was already frantically pressing buttons, his expression a mix of annoyance and desperation. When it became clear the buttons weren’t responding, he sighed heavily and slumped against the wall, sliding down to sit in the corner of the elevator.

You glanced over, finally taking a proper look at him. He was fiddling with the bracelets on his wrist, clearly trying to distract himself. His features were dimly lit by the emergency light, but you could see he was attractive in a rugged sort of way, with a familiar face you couldn't quite place. He looked up at you with a small, sheepish smile.

“Doesn’t seem like pressing those buttons is helping much,” you said, attempting to lighten the mood.

“Yeah,” he replied, his accent a smooth blend of Spanish and something else. “I guess we’re stuck here for a while. I’m Carlos, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you, Carlos,” you said, settling down on the floor across from him. “I’m [Your Name].”

Carlos chuckled softly, a sound that surprisingly made you feel a bit better about the situation. “Not the best way to meet someone, huh?”

“Could be worse,” you said with a shrug. “At least we’re not alone. So, what brings you here?”

He hesitated for a moment, as if weighing whether to tell you. “I’m here for some work,” he said vaguely. “What about you?”

“Just visiting a friend. So, where are you from, Carlos?”

“Spain. And you?”

You chatted for a while, the initial awkwardness giving way to a more comfortable conversation. You learned that Carlos traveled a lot for his job, though he was still vague about the details. He had a love for adventure, often finding himself in unexpected situations,though getting stuck in an elevator wasn’t usually on his list.

“Do you always carry so many bracelets?” you asked, noticing how he seemed to calm himself by playing with them.

He laughed, holding up his wrist. “They’re kind of a good luck charm for me. Each one has a story.”

“Like what?”

He began to tell you the stories behind a few of them, and you found yourself genuinely intrigued. There was one from a charity event in Monaco, another from a small market in Brazil. Each bracelet had a memory attached, and you found yourself admiring the way he cherished these small tokens of his experiences.

Hours passed, and you both shared more than just surface-level stories. You talked about your dreams, fears, and the small moments that made life worthwhile. You were surprised at how easy it was to talk to him, a complete stranger. There was something comforting in the way he listened, the way he seemed to genuinely care about what you had to say.

Suddenly, the elevator jolted, and the lights flickered back on. You both looked up in surprise as the elevator started moving again. Carlos stood up and offered you a hand.

“Looks like we’re saved,” he said with a grin.

“Yeah, looks like it,” you replied, taking his hand and standing up.

As the elevator doors opened, you both hesitated, neither of you quite ready to step out. There was an unspoken understanding between you, a connection that had formed in the hours you spent together.

“I don’t suppose you’d like to get a coffee sometime?” Carlos asked, scratching the back of his neck nervously.

“I’d like that,” you said with a smile. “I’d like that a lot.”

You exchanged numbers and stepped out of the elevator, going your separate ways. But as you walked away, you couldn’t help but feel that this was just the beginning of something special. A friendship born out of a shared misadventure, with the potential for so much more.

It's short I know..if you want part 2 I will deliver it hope you liked it:3

[godsfavdarling]

It’s all you

my masterlist

+18!!!

pairing: Spencer Reid x male!reader

words: 2k

summary: You and Spencer just came back from your birthday dinner, and your boyfriend loves to quote poetry to you!

warnings: smut, fluff, grinding, no use of y/n (idk what else)

a/n: This was a request! I love the idea! This was my first time writing male!reader! I hope it’s kind of good? The poem Spencer recites is “The Hug” by Thom Gunn. I had fun writing this! I hope y'all like it! If anyone cares I promise I will eventually come back to my spencelle fic (maybe once the semester is over at my uni)!!! <3

The evening had settled into a comfortable quiet as you and Spencer lounged on the couch, the soft hum of the city beyond the window a distant murmur. The gentle light of the room cast warm shadows, adding to the intimacy of the moment. 

Spencer sat with his legs tucked neatly under him, a relaxed smile on his face as he looked down at you, your legs draped across his lap. It was just after midnight, and you had both just come back from dinner with friends.

"Tonight was really something," you said, your voice a low murmur. "I think it's been a while since we all let loose like that… Since you let loose like that."

Spencer chuckled, his fingers idly tracing patterns on your calf. "It’s your birthday," he began, his voice soft and contemplative. "I’m happy you're happy."

You smiled, feeling the warmth of his touch. "I’m happy. Very happy."

"Good," Spencer said, then leaned his head back, eyes on the ceiling as he spoke softly. 

“It was your birthday, we had drunk and dined

Half of the night with our old friend

Who'd showed us in the end

To a bed I reached in one drunk stride.

Already I lay snug,

And drowsy with the wine dozed on one side.”

You blinked, momentarily taken aback by the sudden poetry in his words. "Huh?"

Spencer looked at you, his eyes filled with a tender sincerity. "It's a poem. Made me think of this moment right now."

You felt a shiver run down your spine, both from Spencer's words and the way his hand absentmindedly traced circles on your thigh. There was something about Spencer that captivated you. 

Most people wouldn't expect him to quote romantic poems; they saw only the genius profiler, the encyclopedia of facts. But you knew the truth. Beneath his brilliant mind and analytical exterior, Spencer Reid was a romantic through and through.

He was perfect in his own unique way. His tousled hair, always slightly disheveled, and the way his eyes sparkled with excitement whenever he talked about something he loved, made your heart race. 

Spencer had a certain charm, an endearing blend of intellect and innocence. He was often clueless about the effect he had on you, and others, for that matter. His gestures of affection were genuine, uncalculated, stemming from pure love and admiration.

He had never harbored ill intentions; his love was pure and unwavering. He was the type to remember the smallest details about you (whether he wanted to or not he would always remember but still it was sweet).

As you lay there, your legs draped over his lap, you couldn't help but feel incredibly lucky. Spencer's hand continued its gentle patterns on your thigh, his touch a soothing reminder of his presence. He looked at you, eyes filled with a tenderness that made your heart swell.

"You know," you began, your voice soft, "most people wouldn't consider you a romantic."

Spencer's brows furrowed slightly, a hint of confusion in his eyes. "Really? I never thought about it…”

You smiled, reaching up to gently brush a strand of hair from his forehead. "That's because you don't see yourself the way I do. You have this incredible way of making everything feel... special. Your love, it's like poetry in motion."

A faint blush crept up Spencer's cheeks, and he ducked his head, a shy smile playing on his lips. "I just... I want you to know how much you mean to me. Sometimes words are all I have."

You leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. "And your words mean the world to me, Spencer. You mean the world to me."

Spencer's eyes softened, his hand still tracing gentle patterns on your thigh. "You mean the worlds to me," he whispered.

You both laughed softly, the warmth of the moment making everything feel even more special.

"Do you remember the rest of that poem?" you asked, a mischievous glint in your eye as you shifted your position, straddling Spencer's lap.

Spencer's smile widened, his hands instinctively moving to your hips. "You know I do," he said, chuckling softly.

Your heart skipped a beat at the way he looked at you, a blend of love and amusement. "Then, tell me. Start over." you urged, leaning in closer until your faces were just inches apart.

Spencer's eyes sparkled with the familiar light of his vast memory, but now there was something more—an awareness of the intimacy of the moment. 

"It was your birthday," he began again, his voice low and velvety.

“We had drunk and dined

Half of the night with our old friend

Who’d showed us in the end

To a bed I reached in one drunk stride.

Already I lay snug,

And drowsy with the wine dozed on one side.”

You felt a shiver run down your spine, both from his words and the way his hands gently squeezed your hips. There was something incredibly hot about the way Spencer quoted poetry, the way the words flowed effortlessly from his lips. He had never thought about it that way, but it drove you wild.

“I dozed, I slept. My sleep broke on a hug,

Suddenly, from behind,

In which the full lengths of our bodies pressed:

Your instep to my heel,

My shoulder-blades against your chest.”

"That's so hot," you murmured, unable to resist pressing your lips to his. The kiss started soft and tender, but quickly deepened as the heat between you grew. Spencer suddenly broke it and continued.

“It was not sex, but I could feel

The whole strength of your body set,

Or braced, to mine,

And locking me to you

As if we were still twenty-two”

You couldn't help but be drawn to the soft, now raspier timbre of Spencer's voice. It was like music to your ears, a melody that stirred something deep within you. With each whispered word, each gentle breath, you felt yourself falling further under his spell.

As Spencer's hand continued its soothing motion on your thigh, you leaned in closer, your lips trailing feather-light kisses along his neck. You could feel the heat rising between you, a slow burn of desire that intensified with each passing moment.

His hands found their way to your waist, pulling you closer as you continued your ministrations. His touch was electric, sending shivers down your spine and igniting a fire within you. You moved your hips in time with your kisses, a silent rhythm of passion and longing.

“When our grand passion had not yet

Become familial.

My quick sleep had deleted all

Of intervening time and place.

I only knew

The stay of your secure firm dry embrace.”

Spencer's breath hitched as your lips found that sweet spot just below his ear, and you reveled in the small gasp that escaped his lips. Lost in the moment, you let yourself be consumed by the heady sensation of being so close to him.

You could feel his heart pounding in his chest, matching the rhythm of your own. He broke the kiss just long enough to look into your eyes, his breath coming in soft pants. 

"I never realized poetry could have this effect," he admitted, a hint of wonder in his voice.

You smiled, your hands cupping his face. "It's not just poetry, Spencer. It's you. The way you speak, the way you touch me... It's all you."

Spencer's eyes darkened with desire, and he pulled you into another kiss, more passionate than before. His hands explored your body with a newfound confidence, his touch sending sparks of pleasure through you.

With trembling hands, you began to unbutton Spencer's shirt, your fingers fumbling slightly with each small button. His breath caught in his throat as you peeled away the fabric, revealing the expanse of his chest beneath.

Spencer's touch was gentle yet firm as he helped you remove his shirt, his fingers grazing your skin with an electric intensity that sent shivers down your spine. With each article of clothing shed, the desire between you burned hotter, a relentless flame threatening to consume you both.

When it came time to remove your pants, you reluctantly pulled away from Spencer's embrace, causing him to emit a soft sigh at the loss of contact. You couldn't help but smile at his reaction, the affectionate gesture only fueling your desire further.

Quickly, you shed your own clothes, feeling a rush of exhilaration as you stood before Spencer completely exposed, completely vulnerable. 

But there was no fear in that vulnerability, only a deep sense of trust and intimacy that bound you together. With a shared understanding of each other's desires, you quickly helped Spencer shed his pants, eager to feel his skin against yours once more.

As the last barrier between you fell away, you were left completely exposed, your bodies laid bare before each other. But in that moment, there was no room for self-consciousness or doubt, only the raw, unbridled passion that pulsed between you.

With a hunger that bordered on desperation, you lowered yourself back onto Spencer's lap, his hands finding purchase on your hips as he pulled you closer. 

The heat of his skin against yours sent sparks flying. And as your bodies came together in a tangle of limbs and desire, there was no room for doubt or hesitation, only the overwhelming need to be as close to each other as humanly possible.

You started to move your hips, the urgent rhythm of your movements causing your now hard cock to graze against Spencer's. He hissed in response, the sensation sending a jolt of pleasure coursing through both of you.

“You okay?” you asked, your voice laced with concern as you pressed closer to him.

“Yes, please keep going,” Spencer murmured, his breath coming in shallow gasps.

With a nod, you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him tightly against you as you resumed your grinding. His arms enveloped you in a strong embrace, his touch sending waves of heat radiating through your body.

The room seemed to pulse with the rhythm of their desire, the air heavy with the intoxicating scent of your passion. The feel of Spencer's velvet skin against yours sent shivers down your spine, the sensation leaving you breathless and wanting more.

You were so close, the heat of your bodies pressing your cocks against your bellies, the friction sending sparks of pleasure. With each movement, you could hear the wet sounds of your bodies sliding against each other, the slickness of precum adding to the intensity of the moment. 

Beads of sweat formed on your skin, glistening in the dim light of the room as you both worked towards release.

Undeterred, you continued to grind against him, the need for release driving you forward. Spencer's gasps and moans filled the room, mingling with your own as you moved together in a frantic rhythm. Your hands roamed over each other's bodies, grasping and pulling, desperate for more of each other.

With each passing moment, the air filled with the scent of sex and sweat, the heady aroma only adding to the overwhelming desire. His hair became matted and messy, sticking to his skin as he lost himself in the heat of the moment.

And then, in a moment of pure ecstasy, you both tasted sweet release, your bodies tensing as you came together in a symphony of bliss. Waves of pleasure washed over you, leaving you breathless and spent, your bodies still pressed together in a tender embrace.

As you caught your breath, the room seemed to spin around you, the world reduced to nothing but the two of you lost in the aftermath. 

There was nothing else in the world but the two of you, locked in a dance of desire and devotion. And as you pressed your lips to his, the world fell away, leaving only the intoxicating warmth of him.

[lostkitsclangen]

TW for blood and mention of murder

hnnnrgggh I'm gonna have another fanart tomorrow because Nettleclan is dragging me into the pit of hyperfixation and I can't escape /pos I swear.

Even MORE rambles under the cut

Anyways, this is Ambershard and Bumbletumble from @nettleclanstale. I wanted to include Bumble in yesterday's fanart but couldn't find a way for her to fit, but that ask about Bumble's conflicting feelings for murdering Hazelstar and how she did the right thing really hit me, especially the interaction between her and her dad that answered it </3

Devastating, I will never recover. I really wanted to draw it after reading that, it was so genuinely heartbreaking to see Bumble that broken, because Hazel hurt Bumble's baby, Meadowbreeze suffered because of Hazel. But even though Meadow was her baby, Hazel is someone else's baby. And if Hazel died for hurting someone's baby, then what does that mean for Bumble? What does it mean for the mother who killed another mothers baby? I will never stop thinking about this 💔

Little details! The background is the same colors as when Bumble murdered Hazel in her den at night on moon 80. Bumble's scribbly pupils are actually dual colored like how Angie usually draws Nettleclan cats eyes, with the top being black and bottom being the reddish color that Amber and Bumble share in their eyes. Ambershard has a little heart shape on his flank in his design, but it broke because of how devastated Bumble is at her own actions. Under the tears, Bumble has eye bags/wrinkles under her eyes because I don't think she slept very well after, uh, that. The white text is the only one that says "Papa" because the white is what she said, and the red is all in her head. It's all she can think about. The blood is glitching because it's not real, she's just stuck in the moment of killing Hazelstar.

[hidingoutbackstage]

Something about Tucker being held to a higher standard than all of the other Reds and Blues in the later seasons. Sure he likes sex and makes “that’s what she said” esque sex jokes, but like, especially during Shisno trilogy, the show seems to really like putting him down or treating his love for sex like a comedic punching bag. Oh, Tucker’s a single dad who genuinely loves and cares about his one alien kid despite how that kid was forced upon him? Well actually he had sex with a TON of women on Chorus by using the fuck temple and now has a ton of kids that he’s reluctant to pay child support for. And speaking of the temple, despite it being said to make everyone on the planet super horny and sex obsessed, Tucker says he didn’t feel any different, because making him hypersexual is funny (why is it funny, RT?). And remember how Tucker’s arc during Chorus had him emotionally dealing with Felix’s betrayal? Well now he falls for the most obvious manipulative lies from Temple, I guess he’s just dumber now. And you remember that funny scene in season 5 where Doc is giving Sister a physical exam, and Tucker obviously really wants to see her naked, but because Doc keeps telling him to not come in, and likely out of respect, he doesn’t, while Red Team is secretly perving on her (which they never fucking get called out for), plus all the funny moments of him trying to flirt with her, and her either being receptive or so fucking weird that it takes him aback? Well Tucker still REALLY wants her, but he’s now a childish asshole who can’t stand the idea of her not wanting to sleep with him, and is now super self centered despite the arc he went through showing how he values others, and the series basically keeps fucking with him and making him miserable and barely ever giving him a moment of relief. And you know how he was mercilessly tortured for M O N T H S during Restoration? Well he doesn’t get to process that trauma, and despite all the growth he’s supposedly gone through throughout the series, his last moment is an offscreen sex joke because Tucker’s the perv, get it? We can’t let him have a fucking break despite literally everyone else being treated comparatively nicer or given some kind of levity. Why specifically Tucker, Rooster Teeth? What has he done that’s so bad to you that you continually treat his character this way despite the fact that he’s truly the best (and should have been main) character in this whole series?

[jq37]

I'm like genuinely interested as someone who thinks a lot about the craft of critique and fandoms the ways in which the current Rat Grinders discourse shows why you can't really apply the same lens you use to critique a pre written story vs an improvised actual play show by a bunch of comedians who are first and foremost concerned with committing to the bit. Like Porter's a great example of this, he went from a nothingburher to secretly evil with a whole lore and backstory!

In the same vein the Rat Grinders probably could have turned out to be not as culpable in all of this had the Bad Kids really tried to bond with them, but instead they focused on other things with the way downtime was structured! And because they did that they could pass the Last Stand, and are safe from Porter's rage thing! Like legitimately I really liked the mechanics of downtime this season, it just also came at the cost of developing the Rat Grinders!

(Though to be entirely fair, the BKs did try to engage with Oisin, Ivy, and Ruben and then Oisin launched the house, Ivy was racist, and Ruben still attacked Wanda so)

I think it's really fascinating from a storytelling/game design perspective! The downside is the Discourse is so tiring

Yeah it's interesting. I covered some of this in other asks so I'm gonna hit on the stuff I haven't yet.

If you're telling a story that is based partially on user input, it's not entirely fair to be like, "This subplot was underdeveloped" if the reason for that was that the players didn't make choices to facilitate that development. When DM's push hard for the players to care about things they're not interested in, they get hit with railroading accusations.

And even outside of the player choices, there are also the rolls. A BIG part of D&D is the randomness of the dice. Even if the players care about something, it doesn't mean they'll get it. I'll mention again that Kristen tried to roll Insight on Buddy before the final fight and got a Nat 1. What is she supposed to do? Roll again until she gets a good read on him? That's not how that works. If the dice aren't cooperating, there's not much you can do. And you can make sure your big story beats don't rely on dice but at the end of the day they *will* shape your story in ways you can't control.

Another key thing about the medium, as you pointed out, is things can change on the fly. The confluence of high rolls and serious interest can change things that were behind the screen canon in an instant. In Burrow's End, Aabria planned for Bennet to have a family but as soon as Tula/Brennan expressed interest in romancing him, she Thanos snapped that family out of existence. I don't know how much Brennan wanted the Rat Grinders to be recruitable but even if he'd planned them all to just be foils and evil and nothing else, I can totally see him flipping one if they'd really wanted to and it would have made for a good story beat.

Anyway, yeah! Interesting stuff to think about. Even though D20 often feels like a TV show, it's important to remember that it's a different beast in many ways.

[togamest]

hello! I’m so happy to see more wind breaker content it feeds my fan girl soul. may I request suo hayato sleeping headcanons please? a million thanks if you do 🫶

-> sleeping angel | 708 words. gn!reader, really just fluffy nonsense.

author’s notes: i feel like this guy just doesn’t sleep, and he’s not a napper, so when he does nap/sleep, that mf is EXHAUSTED. it’s tiring telling white lies every day :/ LMAO, enjoy!

I have a strong feeling that Suo is not a big sleeper. He doesn’t really seem to get tired, and he’s always on alert even though he makes you seem like he’s not. It’s so hard to creep around him, because he’ll pop up with a smile on his face and a “where you going, darling?” falling from his lips.

He does sleep with you at night, of course, but you’ve noticed he spends more time staring up at the ceiling instead of curling up with you and falling asleep. His brain gears moving are so loud for you that you end up barely sleeping, too worried about him and what he could possibly be thinking about. You don’t comment on it at first, as its really not your place, but as your relationship gets more serious, you can’t help but ask.

“Why don’t you sleep with me at night?” you blurt out over dinner once. The silence that follows has your face reddening in embarrassment, looking down at your food to avoid Suo's gaze. When you do look back up, he’s staring at you with an appreciation that makes your heart flutter. He closes his eyes with a smile, his head slightly tilting to the side. “How did you notice?” he asks, and you sigh, your fork clinking against the plate as you lean back, arms folding across your chest. You didn’t want to tell him this, but he’s driven you to it, and you need to be honest; your sleep is being affected. “I can’t sleep with you thinking so loudly,” you say, gently, as if worried he’ll snap at you, “and I want to know what’s wrong. You know, so I can help you. It’s okay to ask, Suo.”

His eyes go wide, then, and the smile drops to an expression of shock. It’s almost like he didn’t know that you were up all those nights, because you hid it so well. That, or he was too busy thinking about himself, as usual. “I’m sorry,” he says, reaching across the table and grabbing your hand, “I just don’t sleep very well. I get nightmares and I don’t want to wake you up.” He looks genuinely upset that he’s wrecked your sleeping schedule, and that expression is something you can’t deny. You sigh, squeezing his hand. “Alright. But you need to start sleeping. I don’t care if you have nightmares, I’ll help you through them. I’m here to help you, okay? Please don’t forget that.”

His nightmares, you discover, are horrendous. He’s constantly sweating, cursing under his breath, twitching and squirming; but you’d rather him go through this than not sleep at all. You often curl around him, petting his hair and kissing his forehead, whispering sweet nothings into his ear. You know he can’t really hear you, but feeling him relax into you, eventually, is more rewarding than anything else. He doesn’t talk about the subject of them, and you don’t need to know; he’ll tell you when he wants to.

Now that he’s sleeping better with you, his nightmares not occurring every night the longer you snuggle with him and take care of him, he doesn’t nap much anymore. Although, sometimes you’ll find him on the couch, his phone at risk of falling out of his hand, a silly video of Sakura and Nirei playing on it. His gentle breaths fan against the hair falling into his face, and you brush it out of the way as you press a kiss to his forehead. He’ll smile in his sleep, too; he knows it’s you.

You have so many photos of him sleeping in odd positions when he does end up taking a nap; one of them is him curled up in a chair like a cat, another is him spread-eagled across the couch leaving a fraction of space for you to sit to watch a movie, and yet another is him sleeping on a bus with you, cheek pressed against the window, eyelashes flat against his cheeks. You rotate them with your phone home screen wallpaper; the Furin boys eventually take notice, but say nothing. Suo would have their heads if they did; you are his exception.

divider credit: @/benkeibear networks: @enchantedforest-network

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