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#i’m about to pass out from sleep deprivation
coco-loco-nut · 8 hours
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I Can Do It With A Broken Heart
pairing: grid x reader, ex x reader
a/n: i changed the lyrics up a bit bc we don’t simp after guys, they simp after us like the queens we are
masterlist ttpd masterlist
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The cameras flash as you step out of your uber, sparkly party dress and a fake smile plastered on your face. You just won at Imola so you can’t skip out on the after party.
“Lights, camera, bitch smile,” you repeat in your head as you walk into the club and make your way to the bar.
“Shots for the winner!” Lando yells, you kinda miss when he was awkward and didn’t know how to be social.
“Great idea, Norris!” you yell back, throwing the shot back. You know there will be cameras on you all night as you party, so you take up your motto. Fake it until you make it.
“Another one!” Yuki cheers. Another shot to drown out your pain.
“Kid, how are you doing?” Lewis pulls you aside, as you hear someone say that you are having the time of your life.
“I can show them lies,” you say through your smile. Your former teammate knows better, he was there when you found out anyway.
“The fucking bastard!” you throw your stuffed animal at the wall from the spot on the floor where you cry. You got a text from an unknown number, well a picture. Your boyfriend clearly in bed with another girl. You delete the text and let yourself cry.
Lewis walks into your room, immediately sitting beside you and holding you as you cry. He’s the only person besides you and the person who sent the picture that knows about that photo.
“He said he’d love me all his life,” you sobbed and Lewis rubs your back.
“He’s dead to us now,” Lewis’ words are a strange comfort, not mourning the short relationship.
“All my fans keep asking when I’m going to win again, as if I didn’t just win today,” you hide your grimace with a smile.
“They are never satisfied, they always want more,” Lewis emphasizes.
“That’s okay, it just means I get to party like it’s my birthday,” you grin, walking back to the bar.
You didn’t handle the breakup like you should’ve, instead of confronting him, you chose to ghost him, change the locks on your doors, and change your number. You were never public, so it wasn’t able to ruin your reputation.
“Ma’am, there is a guy here for you, claiming to be your boyfriend. Should I let him up?” the doorman asks, he’s new so you stop your crying session and answer.
“Boyfriend? I don’t have one, tell him I’m not home and don’t let him in again,” you say, wiping away the tears so you can get ready to go out to a party. Alcohol is your vice of choice to cope with your broken heart.
As you sift through your drawers for a top, you find one of his shirts, crucial evidence that you didn’t imagine the short relationship. After all, you could pass a test on all the sleep deprived and alcohol induced delusions you’ve had since the breakup.
You hold your breath for a second, debating what to do with it. It is a comfy shirt after all, but the fireplace looks so inviting. Lighting a match, you toss it with the shirt into the fireplace, setting the wood and shirt on fire.
The next day you step out at fancy sponsorship event, cameras flashing as you pose on the red carpet. George slides into the spot beside you, taking on his duty as teammate and older brother figure.
“Fake it till you make it,” George reminds you softly, noticing your faltering PR smile.
“I’m a tough kid, I can handle my shit,” you tell him with a smile, mostly reassuring yourself. Your stilettos are killing you already, but you have to walk in them all night so you can’t take them off.
You find yourself in conversation with the sponsor, without Toto or George.
“We hope you keep winning, win more, get more money,” the older man says with a tight smile, trying to be lighthearted but failing.
“I have been hitting that mark lately,” you reply with the same tight lipped smile. Out of the corner of your eye, you see your ex with a new girl on his arm. The same man that said he’d love you for all time. “Excuse me,” you quickly set a hand on his shoulder as a goodbye, escaping to the empty outdoor balcony.
You can feel the walls closing in as you slide to the ground, taking deep breaths of the fresh air. You barely notice when George sits beside you, rubbing your back.
“He doesn’t have a right to make you cry, or show up here,” George says quietly after a minute. He and Toto know how miserable you are, and this isn’t helping.
“He’s so obsessed with me, and I can’t keep avoiding him, it’s draining,” you wipe the tears from your cheeks.
“You just need to show him how well you are doing without him, even if to you it’s fake. But in my opinion, you are. You have been driving better, and winning on the track. You’ve helped us land three new sponsors, and the only people who know how miserable you are is Toto and I,” George starts to tangent before stopping himself.
“You know you are good when you can do it with a broken heart,” you chuckle, feeling a little better. George pats your knee before standing up.
“I’ll be inside, come in when you are ready,” he says, stepping inside. You pull out your phone and make sure you look like you haven’t been crying. With a newfound boost of confidence, thanks to George, you step in looking better than you have in a while.
“Try and come for my job,” you say to yourself with a bit of a smile.
“Ah, there she is! This is my driver, Y/n L/n. Y/n, this is a sponsorship representative from Monster,” Toto says, pulling you into the conversation. From his body language, you know he is concerned about you, but you make sure he knows you are okay. And you do, because you take home yet another grand prix that weekend, feeling better than you have all season.
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something that annoys me in the asoiaf fandom is that people constantly base their opinions on what-ifs.
to begin, i see that this happens a lot in regards to one of daenerys very controversial actions.
daenerys antis, please understand that “what if the slave masters daenerys crucified treated their slaves really good” or “what if the slave masters daenerys crucified were secretly against the other slave masters” isn’t the great gotcha moment you people seem to think it is.
(1) there is no evidence to suggest that any of the slave masters treated their slaves well, on the contrary, the slave masters are always depicted as cruel and merciless, (2) there’s no evidence that any of the slave masters wanted to better the lives of their slaves, if anything, the fact that there’s an organization like the Sons of the Harpy actively going against daenerys should show people that the slave masters do not want to change.
furthermore, even tho i’m not comfortable with the crucification of the 100 slave masters, at least i have the reading comprehension needed to understand that there’s no way in hell that these men were “innocent” or didn’t deserve what happened to them because i base my opinions of characters on the text, and the slave masters of meereen have never been depicted as anything less than horrible.
additionally, the fact that the slave masters become slightly nuanced through the books shouldn’t change the actual facts. slave masters have wives, they have children, slave masters can be kind. however, how can nuances like these completely change someone’s perception of these characters who are shown time and time again to want to go back to the original power structure where they treated their slaves as wayyyy less than human? i have zero pity for the slave masters and i don’t feel any pity for the slave masters who were crucified. i feel some sympathy for their wives, but for them? absolutely not.
in conclusion, please stop trying to demonize daenerys for this act by using “what-ifs.” if it’s not in the text, then it’s not canon.
any defense of the slave masters rly does trigger me.
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starfaez · 1 month
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hi friends!
as you can obviously tell, my activity has been lacking. i haven’t had much interest in tumblr in a long time. i thought that remaking and moving blogs would help with my writer’s block but to be honest, it hasn’t done much. nothing at all really. it’s just the same old “stares at blank word document for three hours” bullshit i’ve dealt with for years.
i would love to come back and regularly post content plus interact with all my wonderful mutuals but i don’t wanna return without something in my arsenal. maybe one day—this summer or in a few months come fall—i’ll be restored to my former glory as a writer who actually fucking writes. but for now, i lack the inspiration, the drive to sit down and put any effort into anything. well that added with toxic fandom culture. and on top of that, i don’t even know who i would write about anymore… which leads me into my last point.
i am currently facing a dilemma regarding whether or not i should continue writing anime fanfics. to be honest, i haven’t felt compelled enough to watch any episodes of an airing season or even revisit old favorites. the characters i love don’t bring me as much joy as they used to. i kinda stopped caring about any of it which kinda sucks. i hope that i’ll soon be able to feel something about them again. but right now, nothing’s there. i’m sorry :(
i might just pack up shop and deactivate for good, or create another blog and start anew. if we meet again, it’ll be on another account no one knows of except for me. i’m not sure where to go from here…
i apologize if this is all over the place. life has been rough lately. from preparing to move into a new apartment, family issues, and my mental health deteriorating at an exponential rate, it’s been really hard to focus on anything. i know that at the end of the day, this is all a hobby. i shouldn’t treat this like the end all be all of everything. but i didn’t want to keep you guys in the dark about my feelings and current life events. i hope you can understand somewhat how i’m doing and what i feel about everything surrounding this blog. thanks for everything and hopefully, we’ll see each other again in a space where i’m happy and productive… probably…
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sunriseverse · 11 months
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it’s so funny how i spent years being like “yeah i have a normal amount of thoughts and feelings about polyamory” and like. you will never guess. who doesn’t.
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fingertipsmp3 · 23 days
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Just sitting here eating breadsticks in the calm before the storm tbh
#my best friend just got back from scotland and i’m hungry#that’s not a euphemism for anything i’m literally just hungry. i haven’t eaten since i had a big cookie at 1pm while squinting at my project#and i had a surprisingly good work day (apart from the break midway through to try to help my neighbour fix her computer) so i’m famished#so i was like i know what’d be a good idea. i could call her and see if she wants to have a takeaway together#she can tell me about scotland and we can both eat nice food. win-win#so i texted her but didn’t get a reply right away which is completely normal. people have lives#so i sorted out all my laundry. checked. still nothing. decided to call her#phone rang but went unanswered. she didn’t reject the call & the phone was definitely on and had signal#so i was like okay she’s away from her phone. this also is not weird. she has a 3 year old kid who loves to hide phones#so i was like ‘i’ll try the landline ONE time and if no one answers that my next call is going to be to whichever takeaway i feel can get me#a meal quickest because i am actually going to pass out’#so i call the landline. her mom answers the phone and says she’s just fallen asleep. i’m like ah. okay nevermind#she said i’ll wake her up in half an hour. i was like okay but i mean… it’s really not urgent#she said i’ll wake her up in half an hour. i said okay#that was twenty minutes ago. so my sleep deprived best friend is going to be forcibly woken up in 10 minutes and told to call me#she will probably think i have an emergency or something and i’ll just be like ‘hi :) do you want food’#i mean i don’t think she automatically wakes up mad as hell like i always do. so it MIGHT be fine? keyword ‘might’#let’s just hope she wakes up ravenously hungry and chinese food sounds as good to her as it does to me because my god#those breadsticks didn’t even make a dent. if anything i somehow feel hungrier. i fucked up#personal
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sistertotheknowitall · 4 months
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Danny is Some Guy with a not so secret admirer.
Part four? Post #four? I don’t know, none of these are exactly in order. Post one, post two, post three.
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By the time Tim opened the door, Danny had his coffee made and handed to Mia at the register. He resolutely ignored her smug face and went back to making the other orders.
Tim had been a regular long before Danny had started at the coffee shop but it was three days into Danny’s third week when Tim had stumbled in at eight a.m. and did a double take upon seeing Danny. A very obvious double take followed by intense staring before Mia had cleared her throat. The blush that lit up Tim’s face was only rivaled by the one on Danny’s.
He had never had anyone openly stare at him before.
Mia had been insufferable ever since.
It also didn’t help that shortly after their first meeting Tim had started taking his breaks at the little coffee shop. It’s been three weeks, nearly a month and Wayne Enterprise’s CEO went from a bi-weekly regular to an everyday one. (Danny wondered if he should be concerned for the man’s caffeine intake but he only had the one cup every time so probably not.)
Originally, Danny had no plans to talk to Tim. It seemed obvious the guy had a crush on Danny if the constant looks over his laptop were anything to go by and Danny didn’t want to encourage it. Danny barely had time to make new friends let alone start a relationship.
There was also the added problem of what was quickly becoming his bat stalkers. How do you explain to someone that you were being watched by Gotham’s vigilante’s for no reason? (Or worse because he had made a poorly timed sleep-deprived comment.) Danny didn’t think you could without seeming suspicious.
Incidentally though, Danny’s plan went out the window when on a slow afternoon as he was cleaning tables and passed behind Tim. Once he saw the article the other man was reading he snorted.
Bruce Wayne and The Batman? Could This Be A New Romance For Gothams Most Beloved Billionaire?
It was one of those gossip rags that printed things like: Elvis: alive and well and Superman: a mild mannered farm boy? It was all nonsense.
Danny asked Tim why he bothered with the site and Tim responded that he found it amusing to read and that his family had a group chat where they sent the articles to each other.
“Okay. But Batman? Really? Your dad could do so much better.”
“You don’t like Batman?” Tim asked. Danny had slid into the chair next to him and shrugged. “I respect what he does but for as intimidating as he is, he also seems a little silly.”
Tim had given him an incredulous look and Danny hadn’t given him time to ask for an explanation, “and his kids can be just as rude. Like that flying monkey one.” Tim choked on air and Danny politely waited for him to calm down. “Kids? Wait - flying monkey one? Which one -?”
“The one always doing back flips with the blue bird symbol. He’s also a dick that gives hypocritical lectures about fighting.” Danny wouldn’t say he hated the guy but he wasn’t sure how many more lectures he could endure before going ghost and fighting him.
Tim had turned to Danny completely and was watching him with a look of disbelief, “you mean Nightwing?”
“Is that his name? Imma call him Dickwing.”
Tim had started choking again, this time Danny patted his back hoping to help. Yet it was all for not once he kept talking, “I think I’ve only had positive interactions with the one who looks like a walking red flag.”
“Red flag? Do you men hood-?”
“No, although he is definitely a red flag, I mean the other Red one. I’m sorry, I don’t know all these peoples names yet.”
“Danny!” Mia called.
Danny stood and patted Tim, who looked a little shell-shocked, on the shoulder. “Well work calls, see you later Mr. Drake-Wayne.” As he walked away he heard Tim mutter “it’s just Tim.”
(Tim for his part, placed his head in his hands and thought, well at least I have his name now.)
After that first interaction Tim stopped playing the lurker and started to actually talk to Danny and vise versa. Danny never asked if he still had a crush on him, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know.
Unfortunately, their growing friendship had only encoraged Mia as she happily sang “your boyfriend’s here!”
Danny, very maturely, did not stick his tongue out at her. He did however flip her off under the counter like an adult.
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nereidprinc3ss · 4 months
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like real people do
in which spencer gets home from a case and fem!reader is feeling extra clingy
fluff (18+ for nudity) warnings/tags: reader referred to as a girl, non-sexual nudity/intimacy (again....??...), if you have daddy issues you'll prob like it, i should try therapy, technically suggestive, not even one whiff of plot, just cute shit a/n: wrote about a heatwave because winter makes me crave death. kisses!
It was hot in LA, and it’s a different, muggier kind of hot back at Spencer’s apartment when he gets home at four in the morning. The plan is to take a quick shower without waking you and then pass out for ten hours, but as soon as he opens the bedroom door, plans change. 
Even the sheer sleep-deprivation he’s experiencing can’t hamper the smile that forms when he sees you face down on the bed, fan on the highest setting and pointed straight at you, and conspicuously lacking a shirt. He drops his bag and folded suit jacket to the floor, trudging to the bed before practically falling upon you, pressing a trail of kisses up your spine.
A little sleepy grumble from you notifies him that his plans of keeping you asleep have failed, but he can’t find it within himself to be too broken up about it. 
“Spence!” you murmur, voice so quiet and scratchy with sleep but still drenched in pure adoration and joy. 
“Hi, baby,” he says, lifting his weight off of you just enough for you to turn over before he collapses on top of you again. He slips his arms underneath you and around your waist just as you wrap your arms around him. 
“You’re home.”
“I am,” he agrees, burying his face in your neck with a sigh. “And I missed you so much, pretty girl.”
He laughs when you kick the blanket away, attempting to wrap your legs around him like a koala bear. 
“Did you kiss any movie stars while you were gone?”
“Not a one,” he assures you, pressing his lips to your jaw like an offering. 
“Are you sure?”
“I am positively sure. Did you give up on clothing yourself while I was gone?”
“You don’t know how hot it was earlier when I was trying to fall asleep. There was no other option.”
He hums, his face still slotted under your jaw like pieces of a puzzle. 
“You should go back to sleep. I’m just going to take a shower and then I’m coming to bed.”
Your hands weaves through his hair gently, which doesn’t make him feel any less like passing out where he is. 
“Can I come?”
“To the shower?” He chuckles, rousing slightly. “You’re welcome to, but it’s not going to be very exciting. I’m exhausted.”
“That’s okay,” you assure him. “There will be no funny business whatsoever.”
“Okay. Come on, lovebug.”
He rolls off the bed, pulling you to your feet with just a little bit too much force. The momentum send you stumbling into him, but he catches you gratefully and captures your lips in a sweet kiss. 
“Wait,” you order when he tries to pull away. “Not done yet.”
“Oh, you’re not?” He laughs against you between kisses, but slowly the humor fades and he loops his arms around your waist, gently rocking the two of you back and forth for a very long moment. “You are in rare form tonight, sweet girl,” he murmurs, finally pulling away from the kiss for good. 
“I’m not all the way awake yet,” you admit. “What’s that called, again?”
“Hypnagogia.” He presses a kiss to your temple, loosening his hold on you. “I am also rapidly losing consciousness so we need to make this shower super quick, okay?”
“I know, I know! I said I would behave!”
“I’ll believe it when I see it,” he says dryly, tugging you toward the adjoining bathroom. You pout.
“Your lack of faith in me hurts."
Despite his hesitations, the shower remains PG-13. You cling to him pretty much the entire time like a flowering vine, but no untoward advances are made. 
“Okay, you’re going to have to let go of me long enough so I can put some clothing on.”
Spencer says it lightheartedly, but you huff dramatically anyway, sitting on the edge of the bed as he roots through drawers in search of pajamas. When he produces a shirt for himself, your favorite of his, you object. 
“Wait, I wanna wear that one.”
“Oh? I thought you don’t do shirts anymore,” he teases, tossing it to you before finding another for himself. You pull it over your head, getting up again to search for a pair of shorts as he gets dressed. 
“Well, since you’re so concerned that I’m a sex-crazed harlot, I figure I’d better wear some clothes.”
“I never said that,” he reprimands gently, pulling you backward by your waist. “If you decided to forgo clothing completely, I would respect that decision.”
“You think you’re so funny.”
The two of you land on the bed, a tangle of limbs as he pulls you close as humanly possible. 
“I think I’m delirious,” he admits. With a start you realize the room is lit with the very early beginnings of dawn—you don’t even want to know how long he’s been awake. Suddenly you feel very guilty. 
“Oh—I’m really sorry for keeping you up, Spence.”
“Don’t worry about it, sweetheart. I’m comfortable with my choices.” His hand finds the small of your back, rubbing small comforting circles over the bare skin. “Now, go to sleep.”
“Okay,” you murmur, eyes fluttering shut. “Love you.”
“I love you,” Spencer sighs dreamily. “So much.”
And the warmth you feel then has nothing to do with the heatwave. 
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11vr1 · 1 year
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Been Away ⭒ Miles Morales
Synopsis › You were tired of his secrets and lies, so you did the one thing you promised you’d never do and walked away. But Miles Morales wasn’t going to let you go so easily.
Pairing › Earth-42! Miles Morales x Fem!Reader
Inspo › “Been Away” - Brent Faiyaz
Includes › ATSV SPOILERS, Angst, the tiniest bit of fluff, pet names, spanish, a microscopic amount of manipulation, toxicity, going back to your ex, stalking, harassment, mentions being mugged, mentions being stabbed, mentions the police
P.S. › I do my best work when I’m sleep deprived.
P.S.S. › Reading comments and reblogs really make my day, even if you’re telling me my commas suck. Requests are also open.
Y/n pulled down the sleeves of her crocheted sweater as she stepped out of the bodega, white plastic bag of chips and candy in hand. The sun was close to setting behind skyscrapers and plunging New York City into its usual state of terror. It was dangerous to be alone on the streets, but Y/n figured she’d be fine walking a few blocks to her friend’s place. She pushed through sidewalk traffic, passing others who were just as eager to be safe in their homes.
Her phone chimed with a text.
Unknown: Turn left.
She paused, looking up to scan her surroundings. There was nothing strange or out of place. Just stores closing up for the night and people minding their own business. Despite how normal everything seemed to be, Y/n knew better. She spared a glance at the alley to her left, immediately deciding against it and kept walking.
Another chime. She ignored it and the next. Stopping wasn’t worth possibly ending up on the eleven o’clock news. At least that’s what she told herself. The less rational part of her mind had a thought. In some ways more terrifying than being mugged.
Tucked away in her pocket, her phone rang. This time she checked. Unknown. Y/n scoffed, rejecting the call.
Unknown: One more chance.
Unknown: Take a left.
Unknown: I won’t ask again.
Her phone rang once more. With a long, begrudging sigh Y/n swiped to accept. “I thought you weren’t going to ask again,” she said, her eyes darting warily to the darkening street.
“Make a left, Y/n,” a deep distorted voice ordered from the other line. Her heart dropped. Maybe the irrational part of her brain wasn’t as off kilter as she thought. The call hung up like she didn’t need anymore convincing.
The yawning mouth of an alley stared back at her. She took a calming breath, inhaling the morning rain before stepping away from any potential witnesses. Her footsteps echoed in the eerie silence of the alley. Her skin heated in either fear or anticipation, she didn’t know. “I don’t have all night,” she spoke into the open air. “I will leave.” Y/n attempted to hide the tremble in her throat.
Her ringtone was shrill in the alley. She jumped. The bright smiling photo of her friend illuminated her face. She did not hesitate to answer. “Hello?”
“Thank god! You’re still alive. Are you close?”
“Yeah, I’m almost there, Ellie,” Y/n began to exit the alley. “The bodega line was long.” She rustled her haul of snacks.
“It’s getting dark. I can send my brother to meet you. Ya know he’s always had a bit of a thing for you and now that you’re single…” Ellie trailed off. Y/n could practically hear her smile.
She rolled her eyes, laughing nervously, “You don’t have to make him come get me. I’ll be—” She was cut off by her own scream ripping from her throat. A streak of darkness and neon flashed in front of her, swiping the phone from her hand. Her grocery bag tumbled to the concrete as she stumbled over her heels. Cold metal met her back. A well defined arm snaked around her waist, held her impossibly tight.
“Y/n? Y/n!” Her friend’s voice rose over the speakers.
The smooth phone screen pressed against her cheek. “Tell her you’re okay then hang up,” the same warped voice demanded in her ear.
Y/n felt her lips move before he ended the call. Some quick lie about a monstrous rat. Blood thrummed through her skull along with her ragged breaths.
“Let me go!” Y/n wrestling out of his grip with no resistance, finally turning around. She halted. Pixelated eyes narrowed at her. What had she been expecting? Was a mask better?
Getting slashed for the money in her wallet and being left for dead by a dumpster was starting to sound more appealing than her current situation.
Mechanic panels whirred and parted open. Rich, penetrating dark eyes took in every inch of the girl in front of him, peeling back layer after layer in that calculating glare Y/n knew all too well. “Hola, mami.”
She hoped to never hear that name fall from anyone’s lips. Much less his. Y/n allowed a selfish moment to let her gaze wander. His braids were fresh, obviously not her work. Fade clean. Jay’s untied. Bronze skin annoyingly flawless. He was the same, except for the faint bags decorating his eyes. His chuckle bounced off the brick walls, catching her. It was sobering.
“You have one minute, Morales. One minute before I run screaming and call the feds on your ass,” she crossed her arms.
“Morales?” Miles raised an eyebrow. “Damn. Is that what we doin’ now?”
“Fifty.”
He circled her like the predator he was, each footstep deafening. “You look good, ma. Where you goin’ so late? It’s not safe.”
“You know where! You’ve been following me, remember? How long have you been doing that for? Just another secret, huh?” Y/n was on the verge of yelling, her initial fear replaced by pure rage. “You’re not even going to deny it.”
Miles dared a step forward. Y/n took two back. “You’re afraid of me.” Her lack of an answer was a shattering confirmation.
“I’m afraid of what you do, Miles,” she motioned to his suit, the spray painted insignia physically painful to see on his chest. The Prowler. She would have never fathomed the possibility if she hadn’t seen him in action herself. “You’re a criminal. You steal. You’ve killed people,” she choked trying to swallow back tears.
He dragged a gloved hand down his face. “You don’t understand.”
“You’re right! I don’t get it. You changed and I don’t understand why.” Her waterline welled. Three months of suppressed feelings threatened to rear their ugly heads when he was near. Because of him, of course.
It was ironic how much he made her feel, even now. Ellie, other friends, Y/n’s family never fully warmed up to Miles. He was unfeeling, nonchalant, closed off. They couldn’t see how a girl like her could fall for him and stay. At least that’s the promise she made.
“So did you. You walked away. Left me. What happened to our forever, Y/n?”
“You expected nothing to change? In what world would I not react or feel some typa way?” She tensed. Another wave of anger seared through her veins. How dare he turn this on her? “Oh wait,” her laugh was humorless. “I was never supposed to find out.”
“I have to do this. The world ain’t right and I need to protect the people I care about,” he placed a hand over his armor, over his chest. “I couldn’t do shit about my dad, but you…” He stalked closer. This time she didn’t back away.
Miles grasped her hand, placing it over his heart. She couldn’t face his intensity for too long, not without air. He wore the same musky cologne she gifted him for Christmas.“Mirame,” he tilted her delicate face towards him. “Mi corazón, I can keep you safe. You gotta let me. If something happened to you I don’t know what I would do.” His chiseled features twisted, barely able to utter the words. He finally closed the space between them, resting his forehead against hers.
“One minute,” Y/n whispered. It had been more than one minute.
Without separating, he slowly slipped her phone into her back pocket, letting his fingers linger by the waist of her jeans. “Call them. I’ll stay right here and you can end this. You’ll never have to see me again. Prometo, mi corazón.”
She should have listened when Ellie told her to stay away. Undeniably gorgeous, genius level intellect, sexy accent. There was always a catch, she said. She was right. But there was one drawback not even her best friend predicted.
Y/n pulled away. Suddenly the autumn air was too chilly through her sweater. She unlocked her phone. Typed 9-1-1. She looked up through her lashes at Miles as if he would melt into the shadows and escape. She didn’t expect sheer defeat to paint his face, unhidden behind his usual mask of indifference. Her thumb froze.
Miles Morales had Y/n entranced. He’d woven himself into her being, hollowed out a space in her soul just for him. Those titanium claws were in deep and she didn’t know if she had the strength to pry them out or wanted to.
Y/n pocketed her phone. She resigned to every emotion she harbored for the boy in front of her. She chose every wrong decision. “Go, Miles.”
His grin was smug. “Should I call you?”
“Don’t push it, Morales.” He draped his arms around her shoulders, dragged her into his warmth. “I’ll unblock you. Sound good?”
Miles angled his head. His smile stretched to his eyes, showing those rarely seen dimples. “Sí, mami. Whatever you want.”
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dollfacefantasy · 6 months
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Restless Dreams
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pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader
summary: leon gets home late after another hard day at work to you having some extra sweet dreams.
cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, fingering, somnophilia, wet dream
word count: 3.6k
a/n: hey everyone!! hope you all enjoy this :) i guess i've been into soft leon with somno lately idk LOL. i was kind of tired myself when writing/editing this, so forgive any errors pretty please. new divider from here. thank you for any comments and reblogs <3
tags: @sleepyluxe @kaitkatme @tosuckmyweenis @pupthepokemonenthusiast @bizzarethirst @death-paint @petitecolibri @iron-toxinz @wildest-dreams-at-midnight @nexysworld @explorevenus
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“So what time do you think you’re gonna get here?” you ask before blowing on the drying polish that coats your nails.
“My shift finishes up at 12, and then I gotta file some reports. I’ll probably be done at 1, so not too long after that,” Leon explains through the phone. Despite his attempt to lay it out for you, there’s still a pause, one he came to recognize as your reaction of displeasure. A smile plays on his lips. “But you know the real answer is as soon as I can.”
You look down at your phone on your vanity, a pout forming on your face. Obviously, it wasn’t his fault he had to work so much now. He’d warned you when he started at the police station a few months ago, but it didn’t prepare you for how much you’d miss him.
It made you feel dumb, that nagging, achy feeling of longing in your chest. It wasn’t like he was off to war or something. You still saw him almost everyday. But more and more of his time was consumed by work now. Even when he was with you, he was often exhausted. 
Sometimes all you could think about his new job was that he was your boyfriend, not theirs. You’d mentally scold yourself for being so immature when that happened, but the sentiment still lingered in your head.
“Ok…” you say, trying to keep your voice neutral. He hears the dejection in your tone though.
“Baby,” he coos in that voice that sent warmth through your spine and got you to agree with everything he said, “You know I’d rather be with you. I’m just new and have to take the time to learn. Plus, with the caseload and the number of officers here, they need me at the station.”
“I need you more,” you say. You try to pass it off as playfulness, but it comes from real feelings. Your heart was beginning to tense with resentment for the RPD for taking him away so much. You knew the job meant a lot to him though which is why you would never unleash your admittedly petty frustrations.
A low laugh leaves him, and you can hear that loving smirk on his face as his voice comes through your phone’s speaker.
“Do you now? You’re really missing me that much?” he teases, leaning back in the driver’s seat of his cruiser. 
He knew that you did in fact miss him that much. And even though, since starting at the police station, he tried to project the image of a tough guy, he missed you just as much. That’s why he started calling you during lulls in his shift.
“Mhm. It’s not fair. It’s like I’m sharing you with the station. And I don’t like sharing,” you say with an exaggerated huff.
“Oh, I know you don’t,” he chuckles. He sighs happily, checking the time to calculate how much time was left before he could have you in his arms again. “But not much longer, baby. Then you get me all to yourself for the whole weekend.”
“I better,” you grumble with a smile.
“I promise you will,” he says genuinely. A light on his dashboard flickers, alerting him that his attention is needed elsewhere. “Just don’t stay up too late waiting for me tonight, ok? Your rest is important.”
“Seeing you is more important,” you respond.
“I know, but I prefer my girl when she’s not all cranky and sleep deprived. So try tonight, sweetheart. For me?” he asks.
“I guess,” you concede. Your heart already aches, knowing he’s about to hang up.
“I love you, baby,” he says softly, “I’ll see you later.”
“I love you too,” you tell him before he disconnects the call.
The silence that falls over your room makes it feel even more empty. You tap the glass screen of your phone, scanning for the time before you finish getting ready for bed. Your mouth curves downward when the numbers light up on the screen.
Only 10:30. Too much time till you’ll hear him come through your front door, but it’s not like you can do anything about it. You haphazardly go through the rest of your routine before dragging yourself over to your bed and getting in.
Sliding between the soft pink sheets, you flop down against your pillow and stare at the ceiling as you contemplate how to kill the time. Nothing grabs your interest because none of it’s him. It’s all just filler.
And worst of all, you were starting to feel sleepy. You wanted to wait up for Leon so badly, but you also went through a whole day of your own that tired you out. Plus, your bed was just so comfy with your plush blankets and full pillows, stuffed animals and frilly decorative cushions scattered on one side.
Thinking it would help to keep your eyes actively focused on something, you try to read. Your eyes scan over the words, and it isn’t long before you realize you’d made a horrible mistake. Moving your eyes along the page only made them more drowsy.
Next you turn on the tv and put on something you didn’t really have to pay attention to. But the soft glow of the tv casts across you and the low chatter of the characters becomes background noise, making it even harder for you to keep your eyes open.
You lazily reach across your bed and grab the bunny stuffie Leon had bought for you a few weeks prior. Tucking it beneath your chin and close to your chest, your drooping eyes fall shut and your breaths become soft and even. Barely any time has gone by before you’re sinking into slumber.
Leon glances down at his phone, the small numbers illuminating 2:04 in the darkness of the hallway. He enters your place with the key you gave him and shuts the door as quietly as possible. He knows you’re sleeping from seeing the dark bedroom. Already feeling guilty for taking longer than he’d expected, he didn’t want to add to that feeling by waking you up.
He makes his way to your room, padding silently down the hall. Once he reaches the door, he pushes it open with almost no force in an attempt to avoid even the slightest creak. You’re where he expected you to be, curled up in your bed, completely peaceful as you slept. He knew he probably looked like a little lovesick puppy right about now, eager to hop into bed and snuggle up to your side, but he didn’t care.
It takes him no time to shed his police uniform. He makes quick work of unlacing his boots and kicking them off. His pants and shirt crumple up at the foot of your bed next to his belt and socks. Finally, once he’s got on a pair of sweatpants he kept at your place, he climbs into bed with you.
He shoves your stuffies and extra pillows out of his way with a playful roll of his eyes and gets as close to you as he can. His arm drapes over you, and he nuzzles the back of your neck, planting a few kisses on the base of your head. You smelled so good, felt so soft, perfect to come home to.
His body melts into the mattress, and he’s ready to give into his own urges to sleep. That is until he notices you’re not as peaceful as you appeared from the doorway. His eyebrows raise as he feels your legs squirming. Restless movements from your feet beneath the covers and your thighs shifting aimlessly against each other.
He’s ready to brush it off at first. ‘Must just be having some wild dreams,’ he thinks with another kiss to your head. But then he hears the faintest sound, so quiet that he probably would have missed it had he been focused on anything else. It’s a whimper. A gentle, tender squeak that slips from between your lips into the cool air of your bedroom.
Now, his face conveys his concern. He worries you’re having a nightmare. That at any moment you’ll wake up with tears in your eyes and your heart pounding out of your chest. Immediately, he begins stroking your arm, kissing your temple, murmuring “It’s ok, baby. I’m here.”
But you make that little noise again, and this time it paints a different picture in Leon’s head. This whimper didn’t sound scared or stressed, like you were crying out for his protection. No, this sound brought to mind images of you writhing beneath him, nails marking his biceps with small crescents as he pumped himself in and out of you.
He shakes his head because that couldn’t be it. That’s just his horny mind creating things that aren’t there from being so pent up.
At least that’s what he tells himself until you make the noise again. It brings the same memories up, but this time he’s even more sure of it. He lifts his head off of yours to look down at you and try to figure out what to do next.
You look so cute, brows slightly furrowed, lips parted. As he brushes some hair from your face, he notices your fingers clutching your stuffed rabbit a little tighter. Your breath hitches for a moment before you let out a soft, sleepy whine of his name.
It’s unmistakable now what’s going on. He smirks and traces a finger over your lips. The pad of his index finger drags on your bottom lip slightly, turning your mouth into that pout he loved so much. He leans and kisses your cheek as you whine again.
“Please.”
He chuckles at how needy you sound even in your sleep, but at the same time, your voice has blood rushing to his cock while his head swirls with desire. He shifts his own hips, subtly pressing his erection against your ass. His eyes flutter at the minute pleasure. He grows more bold, and his hand rubs your hip before coasting up your side to your chest, giving your breast a gentle squeeze.
You whimper louder and squirm. He squeezes again softly while lowering his head to your neck to lay some tender kisses on the side of your throat. His palm leaves your tits and smooths down over your tummy in the direction of your shorts.
Cautiously, he maneuvers his hand past the waistband and dips into your panties. He cups your pussy, feeling the heat radiating off the area. A single finger slides between your folds in almost an exploratory touch. He feels your slick all over his digit. Clearly, this dream was a pretty good one.
He begins to use another finger, sliding the two up and down through your wetness. You roll onto your back, your breasts rising and falling as your breath gets heavier. Your thighs spread a little as if you subconsciously sensed his presence between your legs.
In your dreams, Leon was doing a lot more than rubbing you with his fingers. After you had fallen asleep, it felt like no time had passed. All of the sudden you were just on the table in your dining room, spread out for his rapture. 
You didn’t realize you were dreaming, everything felt so real. To you, he was really there, looking down at you with those loving yet lecherous eyes. Hands roaming your exposed body, lips caressing your skin all over. Everything seemed light and airy while also feeling heavy and thick. Your head, filled with clouds, slipped in and out of the moment. The sensation of him rutting his cock between your thighs and sliding inside of you was your reality at the moment.
In actual reality, Leon continues to move his fingers slowly, swiping them over your entrance and taking them back up to circle your clit. You mewl when he applies some pressure, sending sparks through you. Your squirming becomes more motivated, and he can tell your drifting away from your restful sleep back toward consciousness.
“I’m right here, sweetheart. I’ve got you,” he murmurs, his voice huskier with arousal this time around.
You hear his voice in your dreams. The deep rumble enters your ears as you envision his hips pistoning into your wanting cunt. You mumble something in response, but he can’t understand the sleepy babbling. He rubs your clit a little harder with some more speed. You twitch in response, yet your eyes remain closed.
“I know, baby. I know it feels so good,” he coos and kisses behind your ear.
More incoherent words fall from your mouth. He sucks love bites into your neck, and you tilt your head back, craving more of that feeling. The dream version of him began mimicking the actions of the real Leon as you neared waking.
Whining louder, your fingers dig into the smooth fur of your plush bunny before letting it go. He nips at the sensitive skin of your throat as his fingers travel down and push inside your heat.
The feeling rips a moan from you and causes your eyes to open. Your back arches as he works them deeper. Your hips wriggle a little as you make sense of what’s happening.
“Leon?” you whimper. Your sleepy eyes struggle to stay open after being torn from the fog of sleep.
“That’s right, baby. It’s just me. You were having some nice dreams, weren’t you, pretty girl?” he says.
“Mhm,” you hum mindlessly.
“About me?” he teases, eyes watching your body fidget with the pleasure you felt.
“About you,” you confirm before he leans down and kisses your lips. They were so soft against his own. He slowly moves his mouth with yours and languidly slides his tongue against yours.
You moan into the kiss as his fingers curl within you and hit your favorite spot. Your feet lightly kick at the sensation. Your hips rise a little as you feel the flood gates holding your release about to break.
You’re too sleepy to tell him out right, but he knows the signs. He keeps working you there until your body seizes and arches off the bed. You let out a throaty moan and turn your head to bury your face against his shoulder.
“There you go. Let it all out, sweetheart,” he whispers and kisses your head.
You ride out the high on his hand, and by the time you’re done, you’re ready to fall asleep again. Your mind is hazy with the fog of release. You’re drifting off as your body settles without even realizing it.
You’re only yanked back to reality by Leon scooping you up into his lap. He’s sitting with his back to the headboard, and he situates you between his thighs, back against his chest. His arms keep you caged in nice and close, safe and warm.
“Don’t fall asleep again just yet, babydoll,” he murmurs while kissing up your neck.
Your head lolls back against his shoulder. The fight to stay awake gets a little easier as his hand returns to your soaked panties. He doesn’t tease this time, just slides in two fingers and starts moving them in and out.
The new angle makes you squirm and whine, but he holds you tight in place with his free arm.
“Gotta work you open, honey. Can’t just slide my dick in you with no warm up,” he says with a smirk.
His voice pulls you towards lucidity a little more. Your hands wrap around his free arm for support while your hips instinctively roll into his blissful touch.
“I missed you,” you choke out between gasps and whimpers.
“I know you did,” he teases, grinning against your throat. His cock throbs against the small of your back as his ears latch onto the sound of your slick around his fingers. “Came home to cuddle with my sweet girl, and I find her having such dirty dreams.”
Your cheeks heat up as you start to piece together what had happened. You fully realize now that your escapade on the kitchen table was entirely in your mind. You feel embarrassed for a moment, but the feeling dies pretty quick as you rapidly approach the edge for a second time.
“Not my fault,” you whimper shyly.
He chuckles and kisses your temple once more. “I know it’s not. If anything, it’s mine. I think I’ve been neglecting my baby,” he says with a mocking lilt in his voice.
You cry out as his fingers brush against those same spots that brought you to the finish last time. Your hips twitch, and you grip his thighs as your peak rises within you. Moments later your cumming all over his fingers, sucking in a harsh breath as a second release courses through you, even more intense then the last.
His free arm keeps you secure against his chest while rubbing your side soothingly. The heel of his other palm roughly massages your clit as his fingers pump in and out.
“Good girl,” he coos, “That’s it, just one more and then I can put you to sleep how you deserve.”
As soon as you seem to be coming down, Leon lifts you up again, tugging your clothes off and moving your body around like a doll to get you in the position he wants. You were definitely more pliant after two orgasms, but you could also see how his training had been paying off. Maybe this new job wasn’t all bad.
He has you on your back now, thighs against your chest and knees hooked over his arms. Again, he had no patience to tease right now, so after pushing his sweats down to mid thigh, he takes his cock and slides it in you with no hesitation. He groans as your hole takes him in, your walls pulsing around him even after he bottoms out.
“So wet. I can just slide right in,” he mumbles as his own hips twitch.
Your eyes droop at the stretch. It always felt so satisfying, having him buried balls deep in you. As close as he could possibly be. No fear of him leaving or pain of being separated. You whine and reach up to pull him closer.
He follows along and rests his face against your neck as he begins thrusting. You hear him panting right in your ear. His hands grip your hips so hard you know there’ll be marks.
“Perfect pussy’s made for me,” he grunts while snapping his hips, “Miss it every second I’m not inside it.”
You nod lazily as you continue to clamp down around him. After two releases, you didn’t even feel a building ecstasy anymore, just a constant stream of pleasure.
“Leon,” you whine, “Harder. Wanna feel it.”
He moans at your plea but indulges you, grabbing you harder, pressing your legs higher, filling you deeper.
“Wanna be sore after, don’t you, sweetheart? Want a reminder of me while I’m at work. Something to tide you over till I can do this again. Won’t have to rely on dreams then, right?” he says.
“Yeah,” you whimper. Your bed creaks as he picks up the pace, but your moans mask the sound as they grow in volume.
He fucks into you over and over, stoking the flames within himself, trying to build to that explosion. You were so tight, so warm. He hums another low moan and whimpers softly as he feels it right there. He gasps softly before holding you tighter and muttering in your ear.
“Ready for another one, honey? Gonna be the last one and then we’ll get you comfy and off to sleep.”
“Yeah,” you moan again, unable to say much else.
“Good… good girl,” he moans before his hips buck wildly and he finally releases.
You finish for a third time. You cling to him tight as the euphoria washes over you again. Locking your legs around his hips, you keep your face pressed to the warm skin of his neck as it goes through you. You feel the hot flood of cum he fucks into you. His chest is heaving now too as he recovers from the high.
He stays on top of you for a moment before pulling out. You cling harder upon losing that full feeling. He smiles at your desire to be close to him and gives you one more kiss before sitting up.
“So sweet to me, baby. I hope that made up for the late night,” he whispers and strokes your hair.
“It did,” you say with a nod. Your eyes were already shutting again, ready to go back to sleep after being fucked so good.
He looks at you with all the love in the world as he pulls his sweats up. He then helps you pull your panties and shirt back on, trying to laugh at your sleepy, half-assed movements.
After that, he gets you all tucked in next to him, snuggled up in his arms like he originally intended. He even grabs that stuffed bunny he got you and fits it close to you in case you want it.
“Get some rest, honey. You need it,” he whispers while rubbing your back.
“Mhm,” you respond tiredly, “You too. You’re all mine for the weekend, and I don’t want you tired out the whole time.”
“Alright, but I’m gonna be tired out if we do some more of that again tomorrow,” he jokes. He pulls you close to him and shuts his eyes, nestling his head against yours and settling in to rest.
That puts a smile on your face and you nuzzle him once more before letting yourself fall asleep for the night.
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satorusugurugurl · 4 days
Text
I’m Stuck!
Summary: Gojo comes home to find you in a compromising position. 🙂‍↕️
Pairing: Gojo Satoru x FAB!Reader
Word Count: 1,602
Warning: P in V, smut, grinding, language, smutty smut!
A/N: This idea came to me while sleep deprived! Enjoy! 😘💚
**MDNI**
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Whenever you were stressed, you tended to clean your deep and Satoru’s condo—from cleaning the windowsills to the floorboards, even going as far as to pull everything out of the cabinets to wipe everything down. The times that you got like this, Gojo knew there was no point in trying to talk you down. It was best to let you have free deep cleaning whatever you wanted.
What he consistently did once you were close to being done with your manic cleaning was ask you what you wanted for dinner, and he would pick it up. That way, you could relax on the couch while you unwind from your stress cleaning. Your boyfriend wasn’t sure why you decided cleaning was the best way to relieve stress. When you mentioned how stressed you were about work, he offered to help you reduce your stress in a much more intimate way. Involving no clothes and several mind-blowing positions would have you feeling stress-free and with no time.
It almost looked like you were contemplating his offer for a moment as if the mere thought of your boyfriend would relieve the stress within your chest. You shot him down as quickly as the idea seemed to process in your mind. There would be time to make love later, but you just wanted to re-organize your house to get your stress back in order.
Satoru, of course, pouted, rolling onto his side at your dismissal of his proposal. You quickly wrapped your arms around his waist, peppering kisses on his shoulder blades. “After I’m done cleaning today, how about you show me those positions firsthand?” The promise of getting to love on you later was enough to get him to stop pouting.
“Babe!” Satoru announced as he tossed his keys into the bowl on the entryway table. “I’m back! So I thought once you shower and eat, we could try that new position I mentioned in passing this morning. I think you’ll like it; it’s called the Snow Angel! It’s pretty much me—”
“Satoru!” Your voice sounded so muffled, but when he had left twenty minutes ago, he was sure he left you in the kitchen. Were you so stressed you decided to clean the pipes in the walls, too? “Thank god you're back!”
“Awe, you missed me, didn’t you?”
“I-I need your help!”
There was a sense of urgency in your voice that had your boyfriend placing the takeout containers on the table before rushing into the kitchen. He found a sight that had his cock standing at attention. Your head was inside one of the lower cabinets near the dishwasher; both your feet were spread apart, and your ass was sticking out in the air. The shorts you were wearing had written up, revealing the perfect curve of your ass.
“Help me~? I'm stuck.”
You had taken every single scene from every porn Gojo had fapped to and brought it into reality. “Oooh, fuck—” Not missing a beat, Satoru rushed forward, both his hands gripping your hips, massaging them. “Yeah, damn, sweetheart, you’re nice and stuck in there, aren’t you?” Long fingers squeezed into your flesh as he positioned himself. “S-Satoru—”
“Mhmm yeah, baby~ want me to help you get unstuck? Need your big, strong boyfriend to pull you out of here?”
“Nnngh~!” Your body jolted forward as your hand slapped the inside of the cabinet, and Gojo began grinding against you faster. “A-Ah fuck, yes, please!”
Grinding his aching cock faster against you. Satoru tilted his head back, gripping your shorts and pulling them down to your knees. “Oooh shit, baby, I think you’re really stuck in there. I might have to push you further in to loosen you up. Do you want that? Want me to push in?” Your boyfriend snickered as he ran his thumb up and down your wet slit, spreading your sticky slick over your entire pussy, before yanking his dick out of his boxers, coding it in the same arousal.
“A-Ahhh fuck~ fuuuck yes please!”
“Oh, baby, it’s gonna be hard to get you out of there.” He spit into his hand, clubbing up his cock. “ I hope you’re ready.”
Nothing could’ve prepared you for ready as your boyfriend shoved all of his long cock into your pussy in one go. Your eyes went wide as you slammed your hands against the cabinet as if doing so would help you grasp onto anything to hold yourself up. The sharp inhale had Gojo sneering as one hand slapped your ass hard, watching it ripple under the smacks, and his hard thrusts had him growling.
Each thrust in and out coats his cock in more of your slick, making a wet squelching sound reverberate off the walls. The lewd sounds egged Satoru on, making him move faster, his hard thrusts becoming harder as he tucked you further inside of the cabinet with a series of low guttural grunts. Your knees buckled, toes curling within your socks as your manicured nails scratched at the shelf your breasts pressed against. In his position, your boyfriend was hitting every sensitive spot in your pussy, making your eyes roll back as you cried out his name.
“Mmmhm, that's right, say my fucking name~!” His hands groped your ass, spreading it so he could watch his cock disappear inside. “Oooh~ your pussy is so greedy, sucking me in~.” He admired how wet his cock was, a white run of your arousal forming around the base of his cock as he grunted. “Oooh fuck baby~ come on, say it~ say my name again, and I’ll give you exactly what you're looking for~”
“S-Satoru~”
“Mmm, louder, sweetheart; you can do better than that.”
“Satoru~!”
“That was better~ but I think I deserve a little more praise for making your cunt feel as good as it does.” one of his hands wrapped around your body, rubbing your clit up and down. “So say it Nnngh, loud—” he slammed against your cervix, making your eyes bug out, “and Sa-aaah! Say it loud!” He pulled out of you before snapping his hips into yours at a pace that forced you to scream as you came around him.
“Satoru!!”
Watching you cum on his cock, was enough to have the little control Gojo had on himself slipped. He fucked you hard and deep, only focusing on himself since you were still cumming, babbling his name like some drunk cock whore. He was hissing as he breathed in and out through his teeth, hissing sound accompanying the wet clap of his balls hitting your clit, extending your orgasm as he began twitching and throbbing deep inside you before ropes of hot thick cum painted your inner walls.
“Cumming baby, cumming, cumming yeah, oooh fuck yeah, that's it!” His hips pushed his come further inside of you, making sure not a single drop of it came out. “Take it all like a good fucking girl.”
You milked every drop out of him, and once your boyfriend was satisfied with the feeling of his cum seeping around him, he pulled out gently, grimacing at the shine that resonated from inside the cabinet. “Sorry, sweetheart,” His large hands groped your ass, spreading your cheeks, twitching as his cum seeped out of your still twitching cunt. “Fuck, look at that creampie.” His fingers scooped up the mixture of your cum, pushing it back inside your soft wet walls. “Hey~ let me eat you out before dinner~” he stood up straight, tucking his cock back into his pants, as he turned to head back to your bedroom. “God, I’m gonna make you cream so hard for fulfilling one of my fantasies.” Instead of listening to the patter of your feet behind him, he heard you collapse to your knees.
Turning around, Satoru blinked as he watched your legs twitch, your head buried inside the cabinet. The only sounds he could hear were of your ragged breathing as he approached you. Had you cummed so hard you lost the mobility of your legs?
“Hey, you good there?”
“I-I’m still stuck.”
Satoru cocked a brow as a look of bewilderment crossed his face. “As much fun as that was, that's gotta be killing your back, come on.” when he tried pulling you back by the shoulder, you didn't budge. “Eh?” His cerulean eyes went wide as he tried again.
“I told you I’m stuck!”
“L-Like, ‘oh step-bro, I’m stuck in the washer,’ stuck, right?”
“No! I'm stuck, as in, my shirt is hooked on a fuckin’ screw stuck!”
“Why the fuck didn't you say that?!”
“Kinda hard to focus when my boyfriend is grinding his cock against me.”
Satoru smirked as he reached down, cupping your ass. “So, in a weird sense, are you telling me that my idea of fucking the stress out of you worked just as well as cleaning.” You were kicking your feet with a grumble.
“Focus, Gojo!”
“Oooh yikes, last name, hold on.” He slid his long arm inside the cabinet hole pulling your shirt off of the screw where you were hooked on, freeing you from your prison. You finally popped your head out, sighing in relief, before Gojo picked you up and carried you to the bedroom. “So ~ which way did you prefer to alleviate your stress?”
You stuck out your bottom lip, crossing your arms over your chest. “—the sex.” Gojo whooped as he threw you on the bed, fully intending to ensure you were stress-free by sundown.
Forever Tag List:
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arieslost · 25 days
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waking up from a nightmare, literally gasping for air and in seconds charles is by your side and holding you close. he’s whispering in your ear, trying to soothe you and is wiping your tears with his thumb bye i love my little precious leclerc
“my little precious leclerc” actually made me tear up i hope u know. i adore him
© arieslost 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.
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wake me up | cl16
you wouldn’t call it a recurring nightmare. more like a nightmare that started one night, years ago, and kept getting worse and worse as time went on, layers of hurt and fear and heartbreak settling on top of each other every time your subconscious displayed it in all its horrid glory. you can’t even pinpoint what the worst part about it is anymore.
it used to be waking up alone. by yourself, in your pitch black room, was almost as bad as being asleep and experiencing the nightmare. there was never anything to distract you from the feeling of tears sliding down your cheeks, your heart still racing from fear, your eyes conjuring up flashes of the nightmare even though you were awake.
now it’s waking up next to charles, wanting to wake him up, desperately craving the comfort that only he can give you, but refusing to do so because of how hard he works. you won’t deprive him of his sleep, certainly not for something as trivial as a stupid nightmare. especially because he has trouble falling asleep most nights; always thinking about things he might have forgotten to do, his schedule for the next day, the next race weekend, when he can get you your all access pass.
you always tell him not to worry about you, that he has enough on his plate and you knew that when you said yes to being his girlfriend. this, your nightmare, is certainly much more trivial than making sure you have a paddock pass for a race weekend. this isn’t even real. it doesn’t matter.
so when you sleep horribly because of it, and charles notices (because of course he does), you just brush it off, saying you couldn’t get comfortable, you were too hot, too cold, whatever excuse you can think up on a whim.
“you should’ve woken me up, amore.” it’s what he says every. single. time.
and you know he means it. that he truly wants you to wake him up so he can care for you in whatever capacity he possibly can. you just can’t bring yourself to do it because of this.
this time, though, you don’t have a choice.
there’s another terrifying layer to your nightmare tonight. you’re lucid to some degree, enough to know that you should have the ability to wake yourself up from this subconscious plane, but you’re incapable of doing so. you tell your eyes to open, but they’re glued shut like they have to see this through to the end, even though you know how this ends.
you fight, and fight, and fight, until finally, your eyes fly open, tears flooding your vision and a ragged gasp tearing its way out of your throat as you scramble into an upright position. the commotion wakes charles immediately, and he doesn’t even ask what’s going on before he springs into action.
“breathe, baby,” he murmurs softly, gathering you into his arms. “listen to my heartbeat.”
you’re trembling, trying your hardest to calm down as you instantly melt into his embrace, his warmth spreading into your limbs and working to ease the tension you didn’t know they were holding.
“i-i—” you try to say, your mouth struggling to form the words.
“shh, it’s okay. i’ve got you, i’m right here.” he whispers, kissing your forehead and running his hands along the backs of your own.
“i’m sorry,” you say finally, nuzzling your face into his neck and breathing in his comforting scent.
“don’t apologize,” he replies firmly. “is this why you’ve been having trouble sleeping?”
you nod slowly, already knowing what he’s going to say next.
“why didn’t you ever wake me up?”
“i just...” you sigh, shifting closer to him and tilting your face towards him as he reaches to wipe your tears. “it’s stupid. i’ve been having this nightmare for years now, and it just keeps getting worse. this time, i couldn’t wake up. usually i just wake up and deal with it. you work so hard every day, and this really isn’t important—”
“i’m going to stop you right there, amore,” charles interrupts, cupping your face with both hands. “i don’t ever want you to say that anything you’re going through isn’t important.”
“but—”
“yes, i do work hard. i have a lot going on more often than not. but out of everything, i work hardest for this. us. do you know what the most important thing in my life is?”
“ferrari?” you answer immediately, only half joking.
“no, ma drôle de fille,” he laughs, “it’s you. i’m going to retire from racing one day, but i’m going to be with you until the day i die. and even after that.”
you feel yourself tearing up for a whole new reason.
“so don’t tell me that it’s not important,” he continues, leaning back into the pillows and bringing you with him. “if it’s bothering you, it bothers me too. you hear me?”
you nod.
“and you’ll wake me up next time?”
you nod again.
“good. now close your eyes. keep listening to my heartbeat. i’ll fight off the nightmares for you, okay amore?”
“you are so cheesy, cha,” you grumble, snuggling into his chest.
“shh, go to sleep,” he coos quietly, stifling a laugh as he pets your hair.
you shut your eyes dutifully, focusing in on the steady beat of his heart, the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest.
you dream of him.
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babydollmarauders · 8 months
Text
OUT — JACK HUGHES
jack hughes x fem!reader
summary: in which everyone has been wondering about the hair tie on Jack’s wrist, and they finally get the answers they were looking for
notes: THANK YOU MADDY ( @thatintrovertedwriter ) FOR THIS IDEA!!! I’M OBSESSED WITH IT!! not proofread and written while heavily sleep deprived
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a relationship was never part of my intentions when i accepted my job offer.
in fact, any sort of love was pushed to the far corners of my mind. my focus was on showing everyone that not only men can be equipment managers in the NHL.
i had gone through so much rejection. countless teams citing that they decided to go in a different direction, and hiring a male for the job instead; and though most of the staff would try to deny that my gender was a part of it, there was always that one guy that had no problem with admitting they didn’t believe that a woman had any place in the NHL.
as if the job was hard. as if i couldn’t hand players sticks just as well as any man could.
but then the New Jersey Devils came into play. they had heard some talk about me and were the first team to reach out to me. they offered me the job, and i eagerly accepted. i felt i had something to prove. my gender doesn’t diminish the performance of my job.
so most of the 2022-23 season, i put all my focus into my job. i was amicable with the players, making sure i knew any superstitions or things i shouldn’t do with their equipment, but i never let it pass into any real level of friendship.
and then Jack Hughes happened.
when he got injured and had to sit out for a few games, i was put in charge of keeping him company. for four games my job description changed from handing players new sticks, to babysitting a twenty-one year old, and i wasn’t happy in the slightest.
it felt insulting, and apparently Jack felt the same way. somehow in those four games, we went from sitting across the suite from each other, to bonding over how stupid it was that i couldn’t do my actual job, to forming a friendship.
and in a matter of weeks, our friendship blossomed into something more.
it started with him coming back to my apartment after rough games, watching movies and letting off steam by joking around and playing drinking games. then along the way, we stumbled into bed. one hookup turned into two, which turned into another, which turned into a date, and finally by the end of the season, he was asking me to be his girlfriend.
it took me a week to finally tell him yes. an entire week of struggling with the decision. wondering if, if i start a real relationship with this player, am i proving all those men who told me i had no place in the NHL, right? but ultimately, i decided that my happiness was worth more than someone’s opinion of me, and i told him yes.
***
jackhughes
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jackhughes 3/3
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subbanator 🚀
user83 is he wearing… a pink hair tie on his wrist?
user45 where?
user83 it’s on the same wrist with his bracelets
user16 omg you’re right
user02 is his hair even long enough to put up?
user77 @/user02 apparently
user91 what if it’s a girlfriends? oh my god
brendan.brisson Same time next year
***
i’m running late.
i’m running late and i’m rushing.
i’m running late, i’m rushing, and i’m contemplating breaking all rules of the road to arrive to work on time.
nothing is going right for me today.
i was supposed to have the morning off, so i didn’t set an alarm, but then i woke up to find six missed calls from my boss and a text asking if i could come help get equipment ready for practice because one of the other equipment managers came down with the flu.
then, i had to deal with getting yelled at because i didn’t have my ringer on and therefore, woke up after practice ended and didn’t come in and help.
then, i tipped over my brand new bottle of cold brew and had to spend almost an hour mopping my kitchen floor and wiping down the counters to get rid of the stickiness.
then, at the last minute as i was stepping out the door to head to the arena, my hair tie broke. and now i’ve spent the last fifteen minutes scouring my apartment for a new one, only to come to the conclusion that i have to leave now or else risk being yelled at for a second time today.
i give up entirely on my search for a hair tie, accepting my fate of wearing my hair down and rushing out of my apartment so fast that i almost forget to lock up behind me.
when i finally make it to Prudential Center, i’m able to clock in just before i’d be considered late, and i have absolutely no extra time to search for my boyfriend amidst the chaos of the season opener.
instead, i set off straight to the equipment area, working in tandem with my colleagues to make sure every players gloves, pads, and everything in between is ready, before i put each players gear into their respective locker room stalls.
i stack pucks in a high pyramid at the bench, ready for warm-ups, and line sticks up against the glass behind the bench, all set to be handed out when needed.
amongst the frantic running around the arena and getting things ready, i lose track of how many times i’m adjusting my hair; flipping it over my shoulder and tugging it out of my face.
finally, i get a split second to breathe, pulling my hair up in a makeshift ponytail with my hands as i stand outside the locker room, on standby in case any of the players need me.
“hey.” i instinctively drop my hands at the sound of someone talking, my shirt falling back down to cover the sliver of my abdomen that had shown when they were raised.
at the sight of my boyfriend, i sigh in relief, his chuckle reaching my ears as his arms snake around my waist.
“i scare ya?” Jack teases.
his helmet hits against my back, as he holds it in one hand. he’s all geared up, ready to hit the ice for the first game of the season, and oddly enough, i can’t help finding it incredibly attractive.
“just a little.” i huff, and a wide grin spreads across his lips. i smack his chest, but all that it hurts is his padding. “don’t be mean! i’ve had a bad day.”
his smile drops into an exaggerated pout, and he leans down to press a kiss to my lips.
“i’m sorry, baby.” i hum in acknowledgment, waving it off when he asks if i’d like to rant.
“no, it’s okay. i’ll rant later.” i assure him. “after you win your game.”
“our game.” he states, and i roll my eyes.
he’s made sure to never let me forget how much work i put into the team’s equipment and gear. citing that they wouldn’t be able to win without my help.
in his eyes, it’s as much my wins and losses as it is his.
“right.” i nod, patting his shoulders. “in that case, i’m gonna be very upset if you lose our game.”
his head tips back, laughter pouring past his lips, and it sounds like a melody in my ears.
“i’m confident. we’ll win this game.” he assures me, finally letting go of my waist and backing up. “if we don’t, you and i will never hear the end of it from Larks.”
ahh yes, Dylan Larkin. the Red Wings captain and Jack’s friend, whom i met over the summer while visiting Jack at his lake house.
“go!” i shoo my boyfriend off as the rest of his teammates begin pouring out of the locker room, heading off to line up, ready to hit the ice for warm-ups.
waving to the guys, who smile back at me in return, i head out to behind the bench.
as the guys warm up, i double check the bench stock of smelling salts, tums, stick tape, skate blades, and whatever else the guys may need during the game, before standing idly by.
*
finally, the game is underway, seven minutes left in the second period, and my boyfriend has already gotten a penalty in first for ‘roughing’.
i’m watching my boyfriend skate around the ice as i tend to his teammates, anxiously holding my breath as the clock winds down.
Jack zips across the ice, and i’m gnawing at my lip as he gains control of the puck. but before i know it, he’s just scored his first goal of the season.
a small smile splays across my lips, attempting to contain my excitement as he skates past the bench, bumping fists with his elated teammates before taking another lap around the ice.
Luke turns his head to grin at me, but he’s sidetracked as i’m interrupted by a teammate.
“y/n, can i get some salts?” Timo asks, and i nod, spinning around to grab some, my hair whipping in my face as i do so.
i let out a frustrated groan, turning back around to hand the little packet of smelling salts to number 28.
“you okay?” Timo questions, his brows threading together and i nod.
“it’s my damn hair.” i huff as he moves down on the bench, making room for my boyfriend and his line mates who now join on the bench. “i usually wear it up, but my hair tie broke and it’s getting on my nerves.”
wordlessly, Jack absentmindedly sheds his gloves off, pulling something from his wrist before holding it out to me where i stand directly behind him.
my lips part in surprise as my eyes lock on the pink hair tie that’s pinched between his index finger and thumb.
my hair tie.
“oh.” i breathe out, plucking the hair tie from his grasp. i smile, immediately pulling my hair up into a high ponytail. “thank you, love.”
he turns his head just enough to spot me, beaming back at me for a moment before turning back to focus back on the game that’s about to restart.
i lean forward a little, my hand lightly resting against the padding on his back, but he must feel the slight pressure because he leans back a little to show me he’s listening to what i have to say next.
“congratulations, babe. i’m proud of you.” i speak lowly, only for him to hear, before i stand back again, as though the interaction never happened. both of us focusing back on the game that takes place in front of us.
***
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***
Jack lays beside me in my bed, absentmindedly scrolling through his social media, nodding along as i rant about my day.
“…but seeing you in the box was a plus.” i finish off my long winded ramble, effectively gaining his attention back at my teasing.
he locks his phone, tossing it to the side as he looks over at me.
“what was that?” he asks mockingly, raising an eyebrow. but before i can repeat myself, his fingers are working against the bare skin of my stomach.
my abdomen tightens as i laugh, squirming and trying to get away from his touch.
“stop!” i cackle, attempting and failing to push his hands away as he tickles me.
“no, say that again!” he chuckles, maneuvering his body now to straddle my legs so that i can’t run away, even if i wanted to. i shake my head wildly. “say it again! what was that? i don’t think i heard you right! cause it sounded like you just said the highlight of your day was seeing me get penalties!”
“that’s not true!” i squeal and he momentarily ceases his attack, tilting his ear towards me as if he’s listening closer.
“i said they were just pluses.” i defend myself, quickly following up, “the highlight of my day was finding out you wear my hair tie on your wrist.”
he looks down at me with a smirk, obviously quite proud of himself.
“stole that from your apartment.” he announces with pride.
“when?” i laugh, reaching up to cup the back of his neck, pulling his face closer to mine.
his hands now rest on either side of my head, holding himself up.
“the second time we hooked up.” he murmurs, dipping down to press a kiss to my lips. “you had complained that day when you forgot you hair tie at home. i never wanted you to be uncomfortable again, so i took one when i left here that night.”
i blink back at him in surprise, my heart thumping loudly in my chest, whooshing in my ears.
“are you telling me, you’ve been wearing that hair tie on your wrist, for the past seven months, just in case i ever needed it?” i ask.
“mhm.” he hums, his nose nudging against mine as he nods, the corners of his lips quirking up in a soft smile.
“i’m so in love with you.” i whisper, pulling him down to capture his lips in a kiss.
his lips slot against mine, his tongue slipping in to tangle with mine in a deep and sultry kiss, before he pulls away.
“oh good, because apparently our interaction tonight on the bench?” he pauses and i furrow my brows, nodding for him to continue. “yeah, apparently that happened while the camera was on me.”
a gasp slips past my lips, and he cringes slightly, nodding his head.
“yeah, we’ve been outted.”
we both let that sink in for a moment, pondering what our relationship will be like now that everyone knows. fans certainly analyzing our every move now.
but despite that, we can finally go on dates in public, and post each other on our social medias without panicking that we may have accidentally posted on our public stories instead of our close friends ones.
“i think i can live with that.” i finally break the silence, and he grins.
“yeah?” he questions, pressing a kiss against my lips, and i nod against him.
“yeah.”
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nanamikeento · 2 months
Text
torment.
s.: "I have nightmares about your limp body being wheeled into the emergency room." (or: Harvey wakes up from a bad nightmare, but you're there to comfort him.) - Harvey (stardew valley) x gn!reader
w.c.: 1.3k (short but sweet)
read on ao3
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
A panicked call of his name echoes through the clinic. Faceless people surround him in a circle as he approaches the table; cold metal digs on his skin as he presses his palm on its surface. The familiar scent of your perfume reaches his nose and his stomach drops. Please don’t be you, he thinks to himself as he takes the white sheet off the limp body.
He knew it would end like this, deep down he knew it. You went to the mines almost every day, never listening to his pleas. But as he lifts the white fabric, he prays to whatever god exists that it’s not you. The color of your hair comes into view and his world crumbles.
When he opens his eyes, sucking a sharp breath in, he immediately sits up on the bed and tries to remember where he is. The darkness in the room suffocates him a little, the blurriness of his vision makes him panic for a second.
But he's home. In your shared bedroom, in your shared bed. You sleep peacefully next to him, oblivious of his outburst. The day was long, the weather was impossibly hot, so it's understandable you passed out after working on your farm. Your face is an absurd contrast to his dream, the color in your face brings him the breath that was escaping from him.
Harvey's heart is still beating fast, however. He brings a hand to his chest, clutching his sleep shirt, the pendant you gave him underneath the fabric brings him some comfort.
Lying back down, his arms snake around your middle as he buries his face on your hair, the scent of your homemade shampoo lingering on him. It reminds him of his nightmare, where your hair was flat, cold to the touch, underneath the sheets. The image of your face, deprived of all blood, lifeless eyes, makes him tighten his grip on you, as a reminder that it was just a dream and you're still here.
Harvey doesn't notice you're awake until a strangled whimper comes out of you. He squeezed you too hard, he thinks, waking you up and ruining your night of sleep. Pulling away, he looks down at you, who rubs your eyes as you turn around to face your lover.
“Harvey?” You ask, voice laced with sleep, “what's the matter?”
“I'm sorry, sweetheart,” he replies, pressing his lips on your forehead, “go back to sleep.”
“Hey, what's wrong?” You sit up and reach beside you to turn the lamp on. “Why are you crying?”
Harvey doesn’t notice the tears in his tears until they run down his cheeks as he sits up. And it’s like something snaps inside him. A sob escapes his lips and then another, a guttural sound, making your heart break. You lunge forward and pull him into an embrace as he cries, sobbing and mumbling about a nightmare he had.
“It was just a dream,” You say softly trying to comfort him, “just a dream, baby, it's all right.”
“You were– you were so cold and– I couldn't… I–” He tried to speak, face buried on your neck, wetting your night shirt with his tears, “I'm sorry, I just–”
“I’m okay, see?” You cup his cheeks, thumbing away the thick tears, “It was just a nightmare, I’m right here.”
With that, Harvey feels his heart slow down, the tears stop. Suddenly, he feels stupid, like a little kid that runs to their mother when they have a bad dream. Rouge paints his cheekbones as he reaches up to wipe his face clean.
“I’m sorry, I–” His voice is rough, thick with embarrassment, “I woke you up–”
“Don’t apologize. I’ll always be here for you.”
Your words only make him blush more, “Still, I– I know you had a long day and…”
A smile spreads on your face and you shake your head, bringing your lips to his in a sweet kiss. “You would do the same for me.”
And he realizes that, yes, he would do the same for you. If you had a nightmare and woke him up, he wouldn’t think you were a child, or stupid. He would comfort you, just as you did to him. It brings him back to the first night he spent at your house, when he was constantly bringing himself down as you brought him to bed, saying that it’d been a while, or that he didn’t have time to groom himself.
“I love every bit of you,” you said back then, “Why can’t you?”
Harvey watches as you get out of bed, taking his hand and urging him to get up too. He glances at the bedside clock and frowns confused. It’s three in the morning.
“Come,” you whisper, “I’ll get you some cold milk.”
He complies when you guide him to the aquarium room, where, besides the huge fish tanks, there’s a comfortable couch that you sometimes rest on. You have him sit down and leave for the kitchen, but it doesn’t take long until you’re back. A glass of cold milk, as promised, and a plate of homemade cookies.
“There were still some from the batch I baked this morning,” you say plopping down beside him, “and I don’t wanna hear about them not being healthy. Eat up.”
Harvey laughs softly and takes a sip from the milk, plucking a cookie from the plate right after. He looks at you, the soft blue light from the fish tanks illuminating your face in a different light. Your eyes move with the fish you keep as they swim inside their own little world.
“I love you,” Harvey says with a small voice. You look at him and notice he’s still blushing a little. “I feel like a kid, but… thank you.”
“I love you too, but you’ve got to let me take care of you, Harvey.” You smile, scooting closer to him. He automatically embraces you, putting his arm around your shoulder and relishing on the warmth of your body. “Do you want to talk about it?” you ask after a moment in silence.
“Actually, yes.” Harvey rests the glass of milk on the coffee table in the middle of the room and turns his whole body towards you. “I… I dreamed you died.” 
There’s no surprise in your eyes, but there is a hint of sadness in them. And when you don’t say anything, he continues.
“I remember your body being wheeled into the emergency room and… and…” His eyes water and he looks away, not wanting to cry any longer. “I just knew it was you, even though I didn’t want to believe it. I just…I love you too much to let you go, I can’t– I won’t be able to live without you in my life, and I–” 
“Hey.” You gently interrupt him, touching your forehead with his and cupping his face. “Don’t go down that rabbit hole. You’ll get paranoid.”
Harvey takes a deep breath and closes his eyes.
“I know it’s easier said than done, but I know how much you worry about things you can’t control.” You continue. “But if you keep thinking that way, you won’t be able to… live.”
He stares at you and then pulls you into a thigh hug, “What would I do without you?”
“I know, right?” your voice is muffled by his shirt as you say, smiling. Then he pulls away and kisses you.
“I love you.”
“You say that a lot.”
Harvey snorts, “Please, if I ever stop, call an ambulance because I won’t be well.” 
You laugh, carding your fingers through his hair. “Ready to go to bed?”
He nods, “Let’s just brush our teeth first.”
“Yes, doctor!” You stand up and pull him by the hand.
Harvey watches as you walk to your shared bedroom and thinks the best decision he’s ever made in his life was to marry you.
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noxtivagus · 2 years
Text
ENDWALKER AND HERMES
#I'M SO FUCKING SAD STILLLL#'But now I know I’m not alone. Not the only one for whom the flowers weep.'#the phrasing the words in that cutscene hurt so much#'blissful ignorance' & 'always shine the blossoms pure and white'#white flowers are my favorite. so that hurts on a personal level#contradictions and aberrations. and maybe. maybe we're the aberration for thinking differently from the rest...?#how lonely it is to know suffering. but we aren't alone. if hermes isn't alone then i'm not alone as well#but he lost to despair.... as i am wont to be susceptible to.#hermes pretty boy n his voice is so soothing :')#the emotion and pain in his words. in his voice#the way it switches from the despair and sadness to... realizing he's not alone. his va is so good goddamn#'To know that you too have experiences suffering... is a comfort' T_T#'It's just... the fact that you are still here / in spire of your suffering / gives me heart'#hermes's smile is so precious. he's such a gentle and kind person at heart and i'm so weak for that#but. his curiosity. his hope. was destroyed. it hurts thinking about that#'...It's getting rather late. We had best find our beds. 'Twould not do for both of us to be sleep-deprived on the morrow.'#but i love talking w you ;;; your voice and words give me so much comfort n i wish i could even give you a measure of#what you've done for me.#watching this ffxiv cutscene hits different in such a similar way after months have passed#it's nearly been a year since endwalker came out... and it feels like some part of my world just stopped#but i have changed. i have grown. and improved. with much more memories that i remember keenly. and i'll bring them w me#till the very end#i wish i could live like my wol does though. with so much friends and. yeah. sigh...#ffxiv's story gives me so much comfort. and once more despite still being sad i'm at peace with myself. content with my life#i'm too drained to write anymore i'm so emotional
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moonstruckme · 9 months
Note
Hiiiii!!!! So, if you wanna write something, can you do poly marauders find out reader sleeps with like an almost concerning amount of plushies??? I literally sleep on a few plushies so I think it would be cute lol
Hi sweetheart, thanks for requesting!
poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1k words
You’ve been pouting all evening, ever since the boys had decided to watch a new comedy film over one of your chickflicks. You’re ganging up on me, you’d complained, and James felt a twinge of guilt but Sirius had only laughed. You’re damn right we are, sweetheart, because we watched that one just last week! You’d gone silent after that, but you’ve seemed vaguely sulky ever since, even when James brought you popcorn and tried to snuggle up with you under the blanket. 
“I’m gonna go to bed,” you say abruptly, standing and gathering your blanket about you. 
“Already?” James asks. “The movie’s only got like, twenty more minutes in it.” 
“That’s okay,” you yawn, stooping to give him a hug and kiss. “Goodnight.” 
“Goodnight, dovey,” Remus says as you kiss him too, then Sirius. “Sleep well.” 
James watches you go, unease growing like a fungus in his chest as you go into your room instead of one of theirs, the door shutting definitively behind you. 
“Prongs, hey.” He turns to find Remus looking at him, his brows scrunching just softly upwards. “Don’t worry about it, love, she’s alright.” 
“I know it’s silly,” he says, casting another glance down the hall, “but she just seemed so put out. And then she went to her own room.” 
“She doesn’t always want to sleep in ours.” Sirius shrugs. “Disappointing, but it doesn’t necessarily mean anything.” 
It’s true; you only sleep in one of your boyfriends’ rooms maybe half of the time, but this has always been a point of confusion for James. He and the other boys shuffle between rooms every night, and when you join them you seem to enjoy it as much as the rest of them do. Plus, it’s no secret that you love cuddles above all else, so why deprive yourself of them on such a regular basis?
James stands. “I’m gonna go check on her.”
“Suit yourself,” Sirius says, and Remus only nods, attention going back to the film. 
James sees blue light coming from underneath your door as he approaches, confirming his suspicion that you weren’t really tired enough to sleep when you’d left. He knocks softly. “Sweetheart? Can I come in?”
You don’t reply, and he hesitates briefly before cracking the door. For a moment, he wonders if you’re in here at all. He certainly can’t find you. The entire room is awash in blue light, your laptop screen on full brightness as the intro to the movie you’d wanted to watch earlier plays silently. Where you should be on your bed is instead half a million stuffed animals. Piles of them, from your headboard to the end of the bed, with little faces lit by the screen like they’re watching the movie, too. 
James draws closer, noticing your headphones plugged into the laptop, and follows the chord until he finds you, nestled so deeply in plushies that only your face is visible. He takes a second to relish the sight before waving a hand in front of the screen to get your attention. You startle, the movement sending a plushie tumbling off the bed and onto the floor. You lunge for it, disrupting even more of the toys, and James has to dam the avalanche with both hands, passing you the fallen stuffed animal—A penguin, he thinks to himself. How cute—while you take off your headphones. 
“Fuck, you scared me,” you say breathlessly, and James guffaws, hysterical laugher bubbling out of his chest. “What?”
“Just,” he marvels, shaking his head, “it’s surprising to hear that kind of language coming from someone absolutely buried in cuteness right now.” 
You sink further into the pile, and if the lighting weren’t so blue at the moment, he suspects your face would appear redder. 
“Jamie,” you say, quietly, hurriedly. “Jamie, don’t tell. Please?”
He’s just starting to wonder whether he’s even capable of keeping a secret as good as this when two pairs of footsteps start down the hallway. 
“What’s going on?” Sirius’ voice calls, a second before Remus flicks on the light and both boys go silent. James giggles, bringing his hand to his mouth in an attempt to smother the sound. Your face is indeed as flushed as he’d imagined, and you burrow further into your squishy fortress as if you could disappear into it entirely. 
“Baby,” Sirius says, sounding positively delighted, “where have you been hiding all of this?”
“I haven’t been hiding them.” Your voice is muffled by stuffing. “They just stay in my closet during the day. So my room doesn’t look cluttered.” 
“But why?” Sirius makes his way over to you, picking up a fox by your head. “This little guy is so charming. You’d deprive us of him?”
Despite Sirius’ honey-coated tone, you know what he’s about, and your eyes narrow defensively. 
“Dove,” Remus says slowly, fighting to keep his expression under control as his eyes glitter with amusement. “This is the most adorable thing I think I’ve ever seen.” 
You don’t look inclined to make a response, so James speaks again. 
“Is this why you don’t always want to sleep with us?” he asks, doing his best to gentle the teasing in his voice. “Because these guys are welcome in my room anytime if it means I get to be with you too.” 
You make your eyes big and sad in that way James swears you have to practice in the mirror. “Really? You don’t think it’s embarrassing?” 
James is finally free to unleash the full capacity of his smile. “Of course not, angel.”
“Well, maybe, like, a dozen of them,” Sirius says. “With more than one person, I think they’d all end up falling off the bed.” 
You look horrified. “I feel so guilty when that happens.” 
Remus makes a sound that’s half laugh, half coo. “Darling, you’re going to kill me with all this.” He gives you a look so syrupy sweet James feels his heart go all soft and mushy. “Please come finish the movie with us so I can give you a proper cuddle?”
“And bring some of your friends,” Sirius adds as you start to extricate yourself from the jumble on your bed. “Fuck, I’m never gonna get over this.”
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midnightarcheress · 2 months
Text
Simon has a new assignment.
pairing: bodyguard!ghost x actress!reader 1 | gold rush masterlist.
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after years exhausting his body in the military and too many losses to count, Simon decided to retire. goodbye extensive deployments, food and sleep deprivation, constant adrenaline pump in his veins, hours spent washing the blood off of his fingernails. except he didn’t truly retire. life as a civilian again was too strange, too boring. he thrives in following orders and being the best at it. he missed having a purpose, even if it’s far from saving the world.
so, because of that, he agreed on joining a private military company as a contractor. never takes the dirty, mercenary-like jobs though – despite being rusted, his moral compass is still there, so he usually sticks with the security, training, bodyguarding type of work. easy enough to not take a toll on his body, and to not strain his conscience with the worry of ending innocent lives to cover up some bastard’s filth, but demanding enough to keep his mind out of his own life for a while.
the guy on the other side of the line doesn’t tell him much about the new task. bodyguard for an actress, indefinite time, details via e-mail. a few minutes later, the computer screen lights up with the case information and his eyes skim through the text; famous actress, has been receiving threatening letters and who ultimately has a stalker. a seemingly uncapturable one, as the police have not been able to trace them for months. incompetent wankers. in his prime he would locate terrorists with ease; nothing he couldn’t do right now, but his contract was strict – keep her safe and keep to yourself.
he doesn’t recognize the name, but the small picture attached to the message is slightly familiar, maybe from one of the times he spent hours flicking through the channels on the telly while battling a crippling insomnia. his brows knit together when he peers at the set of rules that accompanies the e-mail. no talking, no touching unless extremely necessary, must keep distance at all times.
in the months he’s been working in the company, he never had a job with an actual celebrity – mostly politicians and businesspeople, extremely straightforward and simple to execute, usually for a short period of time. he’s convinced that it will be the longest mission of his life, probably dealing with an entitled rich woman who’s used to having everybody begging at her feet.
dread fills his mind as he watches the trees quickly passing by his window on the car. the drive to the meeting is short enough to contain the rate of the antipathy brewing on his chest, but long enough to make him question accepting the assignment.
he pulls up on the driveway and walks towards a tall, modern building, filled with frantic people walking from side to side. glancing at his phone, he re-reads the details of the reunion; second door on the 23th floor, her manager will be expecting you. his fingers tap on the side of his thigh as the lift raises to the office level, eyes glaring at the mirror in the back of the platform. the image on the glass differs from the one on his past – military buzzcut and skull-printed balaclava replaced by messy blond locks and a neck gaiter, still covering a bit of his face even after all this time. old habits die hard.
the doors pry open right after the number appears on the screen and he walks down the hallway to the office, stopping on his tracks as he notices a feminine voice coming from inside the room. “i’m scared just as much as you, but is this really necessary?” she’s in there too? wasn’t the meeting only with the guy?
“yes, princess, it is necessary. do you want to make the front-page news as a corpse?” another voice can be heard responding, this time, male. must be the manager.  “in case you've forgotten, i’m also your friend, and i’m merely concerned about your safety. we cannot let that stunt from last week happen again.” stunt. he recalls part of the information on the file, depicting how she was almost assaulted by a weirdo that followed her on the street; however, the creepy prick was cleared from being the stalker and left the station on bail. great justice system. 
“we’ve already increased the security on your house, he was just hired to keep you safe on the outside.” he decides to stop eavesdropping and knocks sharply on the door. “must be him.” the man says, and he listens as footsteps approach the entryway.
“well, hello there. please, come in,” he steps aside, allowing Simon to enter the room. the office is fairly average, leather couch on one corner, portraits on the wall of what he assumes are the man’s clients, but all of the attention goes to the large windows showing a perfect view of the city. “so, i’m Daniel, the great manager as you may know," he smugly speaks, "and of course you already know her.” he gestures to the woman on the armchair.
the woman from the picture. the woman from the late night movie he was absentmindedly watching on a late night. you. you look the same as he'd seen before, but somehow entirely different. the warm sunlight coming through the glass shines on your skin when you stand on your feet, golden flecks twinkling in your irises as you offer him your name and extend a hand to greet him, sweetly mouthing “and you are?”
he shakes your hand with a firm grasp, stirring away the sudden void in his brain and swallowing the lump on his throat that hindered his words. “Ghost.” easy detachment. his gruff voice reverberates in the space as he repeats the orders in his head, the sense of doubt starting to cloud his judgement. keep to yourself. maybe the job won’t be as bad as he thought.
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been a bit obsessed with this idea so i decided to write it and see how it goes.
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