#so I speak. knowing no one will hear. I speak. knowing no one will listen. better to know it will be ignored then hope against hope
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@waning-croissant well... I had to.
"Nope. Outside of D&D, I am no hero," Eddie talks as he keeps walking, a step ahead of Steve. "I see danger and I just turn heel and run. Or at least that's what I've learned about myself this week."
Eddie's not even sure what he's saying anymore, he just knows that if he doesn't keep talking over the nightmarish ambience of this hellscape, he might actually go insane. Hearing his own voice, he can at least pretend like he's just narrating a game, and the rest is his overactive imagination. Not that he actually believes that, of course, it's just... irrationally comforting.
"Give yourself a break, man."
Steve reaches for him, but Eddie's body reacts on autopilot to an unexpected touch, practically slapping the boy's arm away. He's on a roll here, words still spilling right over the all-too-late pang of regret in his chest. It would have been nice to experience, that pat on the chest or squeeze on the shoulder, whatever Steve was going for, if it weren't for Eddie's perpetual skittishness.
"See? The only reason—"
"Did you hear what I said?"
"—I came in here was 'cause—"
"Eddie!"
Eddie's head snaps to Steve as he cuts off the rest of his semi-planned speech, which was suddenly inspired by the sight of Nancy Wheeler ahead of them. If he was the cowardly bard in the story, the least he could be useful for is cheer on the real hero of it. Give the courageous bat-biting paladin the motivation to keep fighting.
"Huh?"
"Do you ever stop running your mouth and listen?" Steve's brows are furrowed, but his tone isn't mean, and there's an amused smile playing on his lips. "You're almost worse than Dustin, Jesus Christ."
Eddie opens his mouth, lets his jaw hang for a second, and closes it again with a click of the teeth, as he processes the words he would have perceived as an insult, had he not been piecing together what the kid meant to Steve for the past several days. It was a bit of a revelation that their relationship ran far deeper than just some giant one-sided platonic crush on Dustin's part, like Eddie had mistakenly assumed throughout most of this year.
Steve takes a small step closer, the first one to invade Eddie's personal space for once, after Eddie's been doing it for the better part of their walk together. Unconsciously, like his body just decided that being tucked into Steve meant safety from the bloodthirsty bats, and the creepy vines, and that Vecna guy they could run into any minute.
"We all ran, all four of us. Just now, when we saw that giant swarm of bats in the distance, remember?" Steve speaks softly, waving his arm vaguely in the direction behind them. "Because sometimes, running and surviving is the only thing you can do."
Eddie doesn't know what to say to that. He just focuses on looking at the boy's eyes, like a normal person, and trying not stare at his lips moving. But then, when he pauses, Steve's eyes flicker down, and... huh. Huh. Wait, what?
"Of course you've been running. You couldn't have fought Vecna when he took Chrissy. Or Carver's crazy mob, or the entire police force of Hawkins," Steve keeps talking intently, looking into Eddie's eyes again like his gaze never wavered south. "Any more than we could fight that whole swarm. Because we'd definitely be dead now if we tried, no matter how metal you think I am," he adds with a tiny smug smile that's entirely Eddie's fault. "So there's a difference between being a coward, and acting stupid and reckless."
Steve pats his shoulder twice, then turns and keeps walking, and Eddie moves to follow him like on a tether, before his flustered brain even catches up.
"H-hey, I never said you were metal! I said what you did with that bat was metal," he grumbles, thankful for the darkness concealing his undoubtedly flushed face.
"I beg to differ," Steve turns around to tease, grinning, and pointedly tugs on his own collar. "You're the resident metalhead, and I'm wearing your vest, that does make me at least a little bit metal."
Yeah, thanks for the reminder, Harrington. Eddie's not sure what possessed him to throw that thing at the boy. At the time, he only thought of how he wouldn't survive the whole ordeal of Steve's hairy tits on display for much longer, but him in Eddie's clothes? Even worse.
"Fine," Eddie rolls his eyes and shoves his hands into his pockets, catching up to Steve in three quick strides. "Only a little bit though." He sneaks a glance at the boy; Steve's not looking back, once again on guard, surveying their surroundings with his flashlight, but the pleased smile makes its way to his face regardless.
"Doesn't matter why you jumped after us, Munson, you're here now. And don't try to act all modest when you've just saved a guy's ass. Which, by the way..." Steve turns his head to Eddie again. "Nice job with that oar. Too bad you hate jocks, you'd have made a fine hitter on the school baseball team."
Eddie gasps and grips his own chest in mock offense, even as warmth spreads up his neck and pools in the tips of his ears, thankfully hidden beneath his hair.
"How dare you, with these vile insinuations."
"I'm just saying," Steve shakes his head, laughing. "You're pretty... bat-ass, too, Eddie." He glances over again with a shit-eating grin. "Get it? Bat-ass?"
"Oh no, Steve Harrington is actually a dork with terrible puns," Eddie mumbles to himself and sighs, rolling his eyes up to the dark sky.
"Shut the fuck up, my puns are amazing." Steve elbows him in the ribs and chuckles. "You know what, I'm starting to understand why Henderson was obsessed with getting us to hang out."
What is that supposed to mean?
"He... he was?" Eddie gapes.
Another earthquake saves him from the mortifying ordeal of re-assessing the whole Munson doctrine, for the hundredth time this week. And as they hurry along to catch up with the girls, and Steve's hand grips his bicep whenever he falls behind, Eddie wonders if maybe he should just set fire to the doctrine and let it turn to ash.
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You’re in the middle of eating dinner when Gaz sits next to you.
That’s not exactly a rare occurrence. You work together quite frequently, especially when you were the one deploying drones and fixing the tech. You’ve spent a lot of time talking to each other over the comms and in person, though you always found the comms easier.
Talking and making friends doesn’t come easy which is why you decided to be the tech person.
Tech is easy.
People are not.
Still, you like when he joins you for meal times and hangs out with you in the tech lab even when you don’t speak often.
“Not up for dinning with the others?” He wondered and you looked up with confusion.
You spotted the other 141 sitting down at a different table and you hummed sheepishly.
“Didn’t know you guys were back.” You said and he smiled, causing your chest to warm.
“Just got back. Was hoping you were going to give us a party.”
You giggled and his grin widened.
He always seemed happy when you laughed but you only thought it was because he was the one who started the banger. He was an easy going guy when it came to the people he worked with so he was always pretty relaxed out of the field.
“I’ll buy a cake next time.”
“Doesn’t have to be a good one…but that’s not why I came over here.”
You titled your head and watched as he shifted in his seat. You saw a hint of nervousness behind his eyes despite his smile and your eyebrows knitted together.
You didn’t say anything and he cleared his throat.
“Do you want to get dinner sometime? Somewhere not here?”
You blinked owlishly while your heart skipped a beat. You weren’t sure if you were reading into it wrong or if Gaz had actually asked you out on a date.
He was always…flirty. He always complimented you and was friendly towards you, sometimes he would lean in close and talk lowly for only you to hear.
He always listened when you spoke about the work that went into making the tech.
But he was friendly with everyone. It had to mean nothing.
“Like a date?” You asked and he lowered his head bashfully.
“Yeah. I wanna go on a date with you sometime.” He gave you soft smile and looked you deep in the eyes.
Dates were a lot different than the usual hangouts. You weren’t sure if you had anything nice to wear or if you’d even be good at it.
You were about to answer when your eyes caught on to movement at a table next to yours.
It was a group of other soldiers you didn’t really interact with but they side eyed you. They glanced away and said something to each other, a few of them stifling their laughter as they glanced at you again.
It was childish and stupid, something that was reminiscent of high school because some people never grew up but it made your body flash with heat.
Suddenly you were all to aware that Gaz was flirting with you and people were watching, and they thought it was funny.
They thought the idea of him with you was funny.
“No.” You said it a lot firmer than you meant to as you looked away from them full of shame.
“Oh…sorry-“
“I’ll see you around.”
You didn’t wait to get up and leave the mess hall. Your don’t want to be around anyone right now, especially Gaz when it seemed like everyone has their eyes on you when he was around.
It was better this way.
A/n: Idk what this is it was random enjoy
#kyle gaz garrick x reader#gaz x reader#gaz x you#kyle gaz garrick x you#call of duty#kyle gaz garrick
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Sanemi Shinazugawa standing up for you
Pairing: Sanemi x fem!reader
Word Count: 2,1k
Synopsis: You are used to no one believing in you, to get picked on by other corps member because you're a girl. Until one of them crosses the line and starts a fights. Until a certain someone stands up for you when no one else does.
Warnings: not proofread bc I have a gym date with my boy (in order to have a biceps as beefy as (y/n)'s lmao), reader gets reduced to being a weak woman when she is anything but that, bad girl energy, Sanemi being a cutie
„I can’t believe they allowed a little girl to participate.”
“Look at her. There’s no way she survived the training of the former sound hashira, the serpent pillar and landed here.”
“Probably nothing but luck. Or she cheated.”
Don’t listen to them, just focus on staying hydrated and eating enough for your upcoming training. It has always been this way. You, a girl in a world of boys against everything. Why is it so hard to believe that you are capable of doing what they do when two female hashira show them how it’s done? You work your ass of day in and out, stayed consistent for your whole life. You’re always the first who appears in the morning and the last of them who falls into bed after practice. Nothing in life is given you for free, especially when it comes to strength. But apparently, they fail to realize this even after being a part of the demon slayer corps for quite some time.
“I bet she slept her way up.”
Your heart drops to the floor, eyes widen in sheer disbelief. You, sleeping your way up?
“Yeah, maybe she aims to be the fourth wife of him or something.”
“So that’s why he’s always going easy on her.”
“I can hear you. Loud and clearly”, you finally speak up.
They are talking about you as if you are nothing but air, as if you wouldn’t share the same air. Anger begins to rush through your veins uncontrollably. All this work only to be called the mistress of a former hashira?
“I couldn’t care less about the existence of a woman who fucked her way up”, one of them spits directly into your face.
“How are your trainees doing?”, the white-haired men questioned while staring into the sunset.
“Most of them are trash. That one though…”
Instantly, Sanemi’s gaze is glued onto Obanai who now sits next to him.
“Really? You’ve got one that has some balls?”
“A girl, to be exact. She seems decently skilled and Actually just transferred to your training”, Obanai clarifies.
“I never heard of a girl getting through Uzui’s basic training until now”, Sanemi replies while rubbing his chin.
A girl, huh? He can’t put a finger on the last time he ever trained one. But if Obanai talks so highly about you, there sure must be something going on.
“She’s got potential. Let’s just hope there’s enough time.”
“Instead of lying around like the loser you are, try training next time. I don’t need to fuck my way up, I’m all good by my own”, you bark back along with straightening your shoulders.
Who does this guy think he is? Talking behind your back like that while you don’t even know who the fuck he is.
“You’re nothing but a weak woman, I’m sure it was way too easy for you to wrap them hashira around your finger.”
You draw closer, his dreadful eyes piercing like arrows through yours. But you couldn’t care less. No, this is enough.
“Bold coming from a guy who obviously never touched a woman in his entire life. To be honest, I could give you one or two reasons for that. But it’s not my job to tell you what kind of loser you are. Now excuse me, the training session with the wind hashira begins soon and you definitely aren’t worth being late to that.”
“Why do I have to waste my time with those losers?”, Sanemi mumbles to himself while walking towards the campsite where all the trainees are located.
Or wait, didn’t Obanai talk about a skilled girl earlier? Maybe she’ll last longer than that bunch of losers. While getting closer, his eyes fall on a crowd of multiple guys cheering and staring of what looks like a sensation in the middle.
“What the hell is going on over there?”
You manage to escape his punch just before he hits your face with full force, so unexpected that your eyes widen. Did he just try to slap you? In your face?
“Are you out of your goddamn mind? We are here to get trained and not to fight each other like animals!”, you roar at him.
Another dash forward, another failed attempt to hit you with full force while everyone around you starts eyeing you up and down. This must be a cruel joke, a nightmare. You joined the demon slayer corps to fight against injustice and to support peace. But in this very moment, you find yourself surrounded by your comrades who definitely try to hurt you.
“You just have to play the smartest one, don’t you? I don’t give a damn about your little game. I will never respect a woman who fucked her way up”, he jeers back at you.
You force yourself not to cry, to not show them how much their fucking words sting. All your life, you were forced to fight against those who wanted to see you suffer, does who didn’t put trust in your abilities. Your neighbors, your friends, even your own family. Never more than a little girl with crazy dreams, never more than average with no one who believes in her.
“You have no i-“
An enormous storm of air swirling around you catches you completely off guard and almost sweeps you off your feet. You aren’t able to see anything anymore, let alone move. Fuck, what is this? Definitely not the power of that jerk from before. Your lungs feel like bursting under the immense pressure, chest so tight that you have to force air in and out. What on earth is this?
“That’s enough. Who do you even think you are?”
When the storm calms down as rapidly as it came, you find yourself landing onto the floor with your knees just in time while everyone around you bumps into the ground head-first.
“S-she attacked me! It was her fault!”
Your eyes widen in sheer horror when you begin to realize who was responsible for this. There he stands with his katana in his hand, his white cloak still flowing in the wind.
And his dreadful orbs are set on you.
You try to scream, try to defend yourself, but all of the sudden you forgot how to speak. This is the wind hashira, Sanemi Shinazugawa. After all those countless sessions with Tengen and Obanai, it was your goal to get here, to impress him.
But now you’re kneeling to his feet while countless men point their fingers at you, claiming you’re the one responsible for this mess.
“So, this was you?”, he questions.
There is no doubt in the fact that his ask is directed towards you. Not when he looks at you so serious with his hand clutched into a tight fist.
“I didn’t mean to cause trouble”, you finally press out.
Defending yourself is a waste of time. With all those men saying you’re the problem, your words mean nothing. All you can do is sit here and hope that you’re able to stay, hope that the wind hashira won’t send you back home like everyone predicted.
“You have to be fucking kidding me”, he mutters with low voice.
It’s over. This is it, your final time at the hashira training. Even giving your best wasn’t enough, apparently. Not when nobody believes in you except yourself. You should have kept quiet, should have ignored their stupid sayings. You furrow your eyebrows, wild eyes going hard.
No. You did everything right. No one is allowed to talk to you in such a manner, to say all those nasty things about you. It was the only right thing to defend your honor. There is nothing to regret.
“Are you really trying to make her responsible for this when I heard your dumb ass talking shit about her? You have some fucking nerve, lying into the face of a hashira.”
Time stands still, you don’t dare to make a move while the crowd around you goes silent. Did the wind hashira really just…Stand up for you?
“Now get lost, all of you brats. If you’d be as good at fighting as in talking shit, we would have beaten all demons already.”
He doesn’t have to tell them twice. In the matter of seconds, the usual crowded area is deadly silent with only you and the white-haired man remaining. Your heart almost beats out of your chest, eyes now fixated on his back. Why would he even stand up for a stranger, especially a girl? It’s probably best if you get away from here as well-
“No, not you. You definitely stay”, he instructs you after you take one single step forward.
You freeze right in your tracks. What now? Will he kick you out, send you back to your family? What if he didn’t mean those words he said earlier, what if he’s not convinced that you are in fact innocent?
“Listen, I’m sorry about t-“
“You really have some balls, dealing with a bunch of guys like that. My honest respect for that.”
“What?”, you blurt out.
And there it is. The most breath-taking smile you’ve ever seen, a smile that makes your heart and stomach flutter, that leaves you standing there like an idiot. You never actually believed in love, let alone to fall for someone. But the wind hashira, standing in front of you with his katana casually placed over his shoulders and his hand on his hip while smiling at you…
You’re lost. Deeply, completely, utterly lost.
“It’s clear that you’re working hard and I admire that. They have no right to talk to you this disrespectfully. I’m the only one who’s allowed to do that”, he replies with his charismatic low voice.
“Thank you for standing up for me. For a second, I was pretty sure you’ll send me back home”, you admit while avoiding his gaze.
Maybe you’re still able to prove them all wrong, maybe you will make it after all. The hashira training is your chance to finally show your true self. You grab the handle of your katana tightly. And you will do everything you can to use that chance.
“Why would I send someone like you home when you’re one of the best corps members? These guys don’t know shit about you and it’s clear that they’re jealous. Don’t listen to those people and keep up the hard work.”
The man in front of you definitely isn’t the monster you’ve heard of. The rough and loud wind hashira who has zero control over his emotions, who rejected his own brother. The man who means nothing but violence, nothing but trouble. No, that man in front of you is smiling at you, teasing you in order to become better. And you’ll do everything to thank him for believing in you.
-one week later-
“You can’t keep her for yourself any longer. Apart from Kamado, she’s one of the greatest chances the demon slayer corps have. It’s Gyomei’s turn to train her”, Shinobu explains calmly, earning one of the deadliest looks ever from the wind hashira.
Truth is, he doesn’t want to let you go. He wants to see you every day, wants to train with you as often as he can, wants to talk with you into the night. What is left when you’re not around except the effect you had on him, the admiration he holds for you in his heart? Sanemi thought he’d never be able to find love again, that no other woman would ever catch his heart. But there you are with your determination made of stone and heart made of gold.
“She’s better off with me”, he mumbles with a pout, not daring to look into the insect pillar’s eyes.
It’s clear that he’s acting ridiculous. When it comes to gaining more strength and abilities, you’re definitely not better off by his side only. He can’t just gatekeep you for his own will.
“Don’t tell me you started liking her”, Obanai comments dryly.
“Sanemi, is it possible, that…that…”
“Don’t you dare saying that”, he warns the pink-haired girl opposite of him.
“ARE YOU IN LOVE WITH (Y/N)!?”
“SHUT UP, I NEVER SAID THAT!”
“YOU DON’T HAVE TO SAY IT, I CAN SEE IT IN YOUR EYES!”
“WHY? BECAUSE THEY’RE BLOODSHOT!?”
Him, in love with a woman? How ridiculous…
Right?
He huffs to himself. Yeah, there is no denying in the fact that he fell a little too hard.
Tags: @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @beatrexworld
@froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso @poketrainer2270 @chaoticwinnercupcake
@lees-chaotic-brain @wordskeeper @polarbvnny @sugu-love @ryva @baku2345
@komelrebi-san @kentocalls (your fic will be next) @barbuse @sunshine7queen
#kny#kny x reader#kny sanemi#kny fluff#kimetsu#kimetsu fic#kny fic#kimetsu sanemi#kimetsu fluff#kimetsu no yaiba x reader#kimetsu no yaiba#demon slayer#demon slayer fic#demon slayer x y/n#demon slayer x reader#demon slayer x you#demon slayer x female reader#demon slayer fluff#demon slayer sanemi#sanemi shinaguzawa#sanemi shinazugawa#sanemi x reader#sanemi x you#sanemi fluff#sanemi x y/n#demon slayer shinazugawa#kyny shinazugawa
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Bau team having to be at an award show for some reason and you win an award and make a speech:
Shout out to donatella versace for making this dress and to that pretty fbi agent whos taking it off of me tonight *winks*
Spencer: 🧍
Bau: 😲
(LIKE IMAGINE THIS BEING THEIR FIRST EVER MEETING LIKE... HE WOULD DIE)
OKAY SO I DIDNT HAVE THEM AT THE SHOW (im so sorry i will write them at an award show at some point this is just what came to my mind as i wrote) BUT I HOPE YOU ENJOY!!
cw: innuendos, pretty fluffy, spencer light (i'm sorry)
wc: 599
singer!reader masterlist
++
You were one hundred percent sure you were currently dreaming. Here you are, sitting in Crypto.com Arena in downtown Los Angeles, sitting at a small table with your manager, and your best friend, Katie. It was the night of the Grammys, and your album, favorite, was nominated for best pop vocal album. Never in your life did you imagine you'd be nominated, but here you were.
Early in the day, you had been very nervous regarding the whole thing. You were sitting in your hotel room with anxiety creeping up on you and Katie sat next to you and held your hands.
“Hey, it’s okay, you'll be okay!”
You let out a shaky laugh, “I don't know, K, I’m freaking out. I won't win– I shouldn't have even asked Spencer to be here. He came here to do nothing but sit in this hotel room and watch me not win.”
“Y/N, babe, he loves you and he doesn't care if you don't win. He was very happy to be here, even if he can’t be at the arena.” She sighed, giving you a knowing look, “now, shut the fuck up before he hears you speaking like this.”
You groaned and put your head in your hands. “I just don't want to feel like this.”
Her sigh was soft, and she gently rubbed your back, comforting you. “How about this,” she began, “I’ll give you a dare you have to do if you win. That way you'll be too worried about that and not on the whole Grammy thing.”
You gave her a skeptical look, “what dare?”
She gave an evil look and leaned into you. “Well you're wearing a one of a kind Donatella Versace,” you have an acknowledging hum, “and you're going to look hot as fuck,”
“Yes, and?”
“And if you win, you have to throw in a shoutout to Donatella and the man taking it off of you tonight.”
“Oh my God,” you smacked your hand over your mouth, concealing some of your giggles, “okay…”
And the rest of history. You sat through the ceremony, listening to the live performances and the other category winners, only holding your breath when they made it to yours.
“And the Grammy goes to…” Breathe in… breathe through… breathe deep… breathe out… “favorite, Y/N Y/L/N!”
And holy shit, you won.
You shakily looked over at Katie, who had the biggest grin, and even with her here, you wish Spencer could also be next to you as well, giving you a hug and kiss before encouraging you on stage. After the congratulations from the people around you, you walked up the stairs and over to the microphone, letting out a breath.
“Um, thank you so much, I- wow,” you laughed, looking down at the award in your hands, “thank you to my management, and my producers, and my best friend, and my muse for this album. And a huge thank you to the fans; without you I wouldn't be employed.” You gave another laugh, looking out to your friends and thinking of the man currently thinking of the man sitting on a hotel bed watching this speech. “Also…” a smirk was plastered on your face, “shoutout to Donatella Versace for making this dress, and the pretty FBI agent who's taking it off of me tonight!”
The crowd went crazy over it, and when you saw Spencer later that night, he was a blushing mess. It also helped that Penelope made sure to text you that everyone was watching and instantly had something to say to Spencer.
++
singer!reader taglist: @itsleilabxtch @wietske27 @taylorswiftilovecowboylikeme @marshatesthisreality @ladylincoln @delightfulmakerpiegiant @chericherrypie @punksnotdeadbutiam @stillhere197 @laddywitch @httpstoyosi @obi-wansgirl @amandareids @mynameiskelly
let me know if you would like to be added or removed!!
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#dr spencer reid#dr spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x fem!reader#singer!reader
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A blurb where Matt and the reader just sit in the back seat of the car and talk and give eachother smooches
i’m sorry i turned this into touch starved clingy matt pls don’t clock me i neeeeeed him!
so based on that one matt repost on tt and just everything we know about him in general, we know that he thrives in a peaceful environment with people he’s comfortable with.
you both had been doing nothing, sitting around his room lazily when he suggested going on a drive. you’ve never been one to deny matt of anything, so of course you follow him out the house eagerly.
he drives to the beach, car in the parking lot closest to the shore, listening to you talk about something that happened to you the other day. it’s a mindless subject, something about the grocery store, and he wishes he could pay attention.
only he can’t. because he’s staring at your lips like they’re home and he’s been longing for it all day. the only thing in the world matt likes doing more than hearing you speak is kissing you.
“and then i said, um mother fucker i was clearly here first, wait in line and—”
matt cuts you off with a kiss, effectively silencing your story. you give in for a second before you pull away, pretending to be offended. “did you just inadvertently tell me to shut the fuck up?”
matt rolls his eyes, because he knows his girlfriend and knows you’re looking for a fire where there is absolutely no smoke. “of course not. love hearing you speak. i just really needed that.”
you can’t help but drop the bit, scooting closer to him in the backseat. “yeah? you needed it?”
he leans closer to you, looking you directly in the eyes. he should probably be putting up more of a fight, but he can’t help it. the most beautiful girl in the world is being illuminated by the moonlight in his backseat and he doesn’t have the strength to pretend he’s not entranced. “need you all the time.”
it makes your heart beat so hard it threatens to escape your ribcage. his eyes are dark and open, and you can’t believe this man is yours. you don’t even say anything about it, just continue your story with a smile so fond it’s permanent in your features. matt continues to give you kisses all through out, but still manages to be attentive as ever, asking questions and humming in recognition. he knows how to make you still feel heard despite his need for you to be close and you know how to make him feel seen while he’s feeling clingy.
and what’s that thing the poets say? to be loved is to be known.
#cherriespeaks#sturniolo triplets#matt sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#chris sturniolo#nick sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo#sturniolo edit#sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo imagine
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Mine. {M.S}
☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ☆
☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ☆
warnings: smut/p in v (don’t be silly, wrap up your willy)/ slightly angry sex
Summary: Y/n and Matt are roommates. Your parents are all close and you were moving to go to college in new york, so of course Matt’s mom forced him to let you stay with him in the new and strange environment. This would be fine if it wasn’t for the fact that he’s always been extremely over protective and tries to control your social life in every aspect, so what happens when Matt finds your one night stand shuffling out his penthouse?
☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ☆
The sound of my feet pattering against the cold floor of the kitchen is the only sound that can be heard in aydens desolate penthouse.
I walk towards the fridge to get some water but before i can make it there, i hear a loud snore. I quickly whip my head around to see my one night stand passed out on the couch.
“fuck! shit! fuck!” i whisper shout to myself under my breath as i run over to the couch and start shaking the man awake. i don’t even know his name, i met him at a club last night.
“Hey! wakey wakey buddy!” i shout at the man as i continue to shake his shoulders.
I have to get him out of here before matt gets back.
The man starts to groan and shift his body as he stirs awake. “why are you still here?!” i shout.
He woke me up when he left my room at around 4:30 this morning and i assumed he was leaving.
The man sits up and brushes his slightly greased black hair back. “s-sorry- i fell asleep in here when i was putting my shoes on i think.”
“yeah, okay time to go.” i say as i rush him as he slips on his sweatshirt and stumbles as he walks towards the door.
“jesus! okay! okay!” He says in a whiny voice as i shove him towards the front door.
He opens the front door and i’m met with Matt, standing in doorway.
“shit.” i mumble to myself, seeing his face instantly turn angry as my hookup awkwardly smiles at Matt and shuffles past him in the doorway. Matt’s not moving and holding intimidating eye contact as the man slides past.
The man walks past Matt but before he can get even a foot away, Matt grabs him by the collar of his shirt and jerks him back towards him.
“Don’t ever fucking speak to y/n again.” Matt gruffs out harshly as he looks down at the man, towering over him.
“Matt-“ I say, but i’m ignored in the moment.
The man says nothing but just runs off as Matt lets go of him.
Matt turns back to look at me, a look of desperation and anger in his eyes as he walks in through the door past me. I slowly turn behind him, shutting the door behind us.
I have to talk to him and address the problem because i’m not doing this shit again with him. The last time this happened, he was an asshole for a month.
“Matt, what the fuck?” I retort as ayden opens the fridge up and gets a bottle of water out.
“Hm? what’s the matter y/n?” He asks, faking a look of confusion as he takes a sip from his water bottle, his full lips glowing with a shimmer of wetness as he pulls the bottle away.
“Don’t act fucking clueless. I’m tired of you getting so mad when i hookup with someone. I’m not even dating him for Christs sake! It was just a fuck!” I yell, obviously getting bothered. I can physically feel my face heating up and getting red.
“y/n, don’t shout.” Matt says quietly and eerily calm, trying to put on a facade of being not bothered by the conversation.
“Matt, listen to me.” I say as i let out a deep breath. “I’m not doing this shit with you again. The last time i even talked about hanging out with a guy, you threw a fucking fit and was an asshole to me for a fucking week! i’m not doing it again. I’m 20 years old- i’m allowed to have a hookup or hell- a boyfriend if i want.”
I finish off breathlessly, relieved to have finally said the words that have been brewing in my mind for almost a year.
Matt’s face remains stoic as he places his glass cup down on the counter before rolling the sleeves of his white button up, up to his elbows and slowly walking over to me.
“why don’t you have a boyfriend then, hm? why just hookups?” He says quietly, the words rolling off of his lips so smoothly as he looks down at me.
“Because- you- you’d get mad and i just don’t want to deal with your attitude-“ I stutter my words out, my voice faltering as Matt continues to close the space between us.
“I don’t think that’s true sweetheart, you do whatever you want anyways. You always have. That’s what drives me so fucking crazy.” Matt says as his hand comes up to the side of my face. I can do nothing but stare up at him as his thumb runs over my bottom lip. I close my eyes and let out a huff of a breath that i didn’t know i was even holding in.
“I don’t want another man in this penthouse alone with you that isn’t me.” Matt says quietly as his eyes continue to scan over my face.
“Matt-“ I begin to grow angry and displeased with his words but he cuts me off by leaning down a few inches to my ear before i can finish my sentence.
“I want it to be me, y/n. You’re already mine anyways, just let me- let me be here for you.” he whispers seductively into my ears, sending a shiver through my body as he leans back up to look at me with desperate and pleading eyes.
“Matt, this will never work.” I say with hesitation. Deep down, i know it could work because now that i’m thinking about it, Matt is obsessed with me. Almost everything he does revolves around me, so i know he’d make it work.
“yes it will, y/n. I love you. I’ll make it work sweetheart. Please-“ He says as his eyes scan all over my face, looking for any of my emotions to read. I’ve never seen Matt like this. I’ve never seen him so- desperate…so vulnerable.
Before he can plead with me again, i throw my arms around his neck and place my lips on his quickly and passionately. He quickly reciprocates the kiss and his hands go straight to my hips as he lifts me up and places me on the kitchen island, i groan into his lips as the cold countertop hits my ass.
“My god-“ He groans out lowly before sliding his tongue into my mouth. My legs tighten around his waist and i can feel his hard erection pressing into my thigh.
When Matt feels my legs tighten around him, he lets out a low whimper that makes me audibly moan his name. He looks at me with swollen lips and dazed eyes.
“I want you- please.” I say with exasperation evident in my voice.
Matt groans into my shoulder before quickly pulling his belt through the loops as he grabs me by my waist and pulls me down off of the counter. I have no time to breathe or ask questions before he turns me over so my stomachs half way onto the counter and pushes my face against the cold granite countertop.
“Yeah?” Matt says with a lustful voice.
“Yes Matt.” I groan as he presses himself against my ass.
“Mm, can i?” he asks lowly as he fiddles with the waistband of my shorts.
“Yes- please.” I quickly give him my consent and he wastes no time as he jerks my shorts down along with my underwear. He immediately shoved himself into me without warning, making me yell out loudly as my pussy stretches, trying to accommodate his size.
“Matt! fuck!” I moan loudly as he bottoms out.
“So- so tight. You feel so good y/n.” He says with a hoarse voice as he slowly starts moving inside of me.
After a few moments, im starting to get used to his size as he slowly pulls out before shoving back inside again, this time he relentlessly increases his speed as i shout moans of his name. He grabs onto my scalp, getting a fistful of hair as he pulls my head up as he continues to ram into me.
“Did you make up your mind? are you ever gonna let another man fuck you like this?” He says loudly, having to almost yell over the erotic sounds poring from my mouth.
“Nobody ever again! I’m yours Matt, all yours.” I moan, my mouth gapes open when Matt hears my words and speeds up his pace even more somehow.
“I’m gonna fill you up, yeah? you’re gonna take every fucking drop.” He says sternly as his movements become sloppier.
“Matt please-“ I moan loudly as we both finish at the same time.
After a few moments of heavy breathing, ayden slowly pulls out while rubbing my back soothingly.
“I’ve thought about doing that to you for so fucking long.” Matt says with a small chuckle. I’m not even able to say anything, my body still trying to come down from my high.
#sturniolo triplets#chris sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo#matt sturniolo#matt sturniolo smut#nick sturniolo#sturniolo smut#sturniolos#chris sturniolo fanfic
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Eh, fuck it, here's my first actual shit written
~~
Gimme a reader who is normally taciturn snapping and becoming spitfire.
Imagine you and 141 out for drinks at a dive bar, drinking enough liquor to drown your memories of harrowing situations away. Price and Ghost just chilling in the corner of the bar, drinking while keeping their eyes on the surroundings; Price keeping an eye on Johnny and Kyle who are becoming rowdy by the billiards table, and Simon is just quietly nursing a drink while watching everything else. You're a few stools away, wanting to drink alone, until some younger slob sits next to you, ignoring the irritated glance you threw his way and the prickly atmosphere you exude. Tries the usual schtick of getting you to go with him, promising good times and such. The 141 men immediately notice and are casually on standby to help, until you finally snap at the fucker who is trying to give you his number and address.
"If you're gonna give me an address, I'd rather take your dad's so that way I can go fuck him and give him a son who he will actually love, enough to teach little boys like you what the fuck manners are. And if you have a mom, I'll fuck her too", you say bluntly but loudly.
If you were paying attention on anything else but the guy, you'd hear Johnny and Kyle immediately cackling in surprised delight. Price, on the other hand, actually snorts his drink and sputter, spitting some of it out. Simon's face is of course hidden, hiding his grin but his eyes crease to show it, eyebrows raised to high heavens.
"If you're looking to just get your dick wet, I suggest you go cry on it, or fuck off and bother someone else", you continue, not allowing the guy to talk. "I'm not in the mood to babysit you asshole, so get off my face before I make you eat this bar", you growl out.
The poor fool is turning red, mouth opening and closing to get a word in, but before he could, you hear Kyle speak up, now beside you with a shit-eating grin, putting his hand by your shoulder and facing the guy.
"Listen, mate, she's not interested. You better scramble off before she grabs your balls and rips it off", he says, joy evident in his voice.
"Aye, Ah've see 'er do it, honest ta' God", Johnny follows up, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes, still somewhat cackling.
The appearance of the two big, burly men to your side seems to finally scare the guy off, profusely apologizing to them before running off. You get irritated, as it seems the boy really didn't respect you and only backed off because of the presence of other men.
"The both of you, fuck off too. I can handle myself", you tell them testily.
Kyle lets go of your shoulder, backing away while shaking his head with his hands up. "You handled it perfectly, but was just a bit worried he'd keep harrassing you regardless".
"Tha' was hot, bonnie. Never thought ya got the fire in ya'", Johnny quips. "Ah know ya ken handle yourself, so we'll leave ya to it", he adds, dragging Kyle with him back to the billiards table, both laughing.
You threw the both of them a withering look, and notice Simon helping John by giving him more napkins, John wiping his beard while coughing slightly. Both of them look at you and nod, traces of laughter and surprise on their face as you glower back at them before going back to your drink.
All four of them are very surprised at your outburst, knowing how you normally ignore passes like that to you. You don't know it yet, but you've now incited Johnny and Kyle into riling you up. John and Simon chuckle to themselves, enjoying your display of temper. All four are wondering how it is like to be with you, anticipating when they will get to see more of you out of your shell. If this is just one shard that came out, they can't wait to see more.
~~~
I feel kinda embarrassed because I've actually never written a fic or drabble before
#poly 141 x reader#poly 141#tf 141 x reader#cod mw x reader#kyle gaz garrick#john soap mactavish#john price#simon ghost riley
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FATHOMLESS
eldritch detective x reader | 2.1k | mdni
synopsis; everyone claims that the esteemed detective arsené is the best detective in watt city. the problem is that you've never seen him in the precinct before and he has no face.
story warnings; implied dubcon, smoking, drinking, brief mentions of body gore. this is an extremely fictitious take on detective work, y'all. don't take it seriously. a bit trippy in some spots, very nebulous explanation on arsené's existence. not proofread.
a/n: more about arsené at the end. if you enjoyed pls reblog! if enough folks show interest, I'd love to consider a longfic for him!
Everyone at the precinct called him Detective Arsené, but they never said anything about his face.
It was simply that there wasn't one there, not that you were able to discern in any instance you'd seen him wandering the floor. You'd blamed the long hours, the glowing blue screens and useless eye predictions and corporate greed and mixing alcohol with allergy medicine before you finally accepted what you were seeing was real, yet no one else noticed it apart from you.
“What's wrong with his face?” you'd ask anyone with the time to spare to listen.
“Who? Arsené?” they'd laugh, whether in disbelief that you were speaking about Watt City’s genius detective in such a fashion, or that they thought you were the funniest person in the office. “What are you talking about? He's always looked like that! Lay off the booze, yeah?”
Those responses had never been satisfactory enough, going as far to set you ill at ease for the remainder of your shift, sufficiently distracting you from furthering your workload because your mind always came back to the detective and his non-existent face.
“He looks pretty normal to me,” said a senior member in your division, an older man you'd come to know as forthright and virtuous with a history showing that integrity. He had taken eyes off his computer screen, set aside his bifocals and pinched the high-point between his brows. “What's this about, really? I've worked with Arsené for years. You know that. He's been here since before I started. Good guy, hard worker. Drinks too much, though. Just like someone else I know.”
But, this was the first time you’d heard from this man that he had worked with Arsené, let alone acknowledged his existence at all. There was no reason for him to lie; he had spoken without inflection, warily, almost accusatory towards the end when he spoke about the alcohol.
“Detective Arsené? Well, I think he's really handsome. He just has that look about him, y'know?” The next person you questioned was a junior at the precinct, a pretty woman with silky black hair and long, blunt nails she used the tips of to clack away on her keyboard. “I've heard he has a really specific type, though. I've also never seen him take anyone out, or take a partner on cases, now that I think about it. Isn't he just a stand-up guy? I'd say he's the sort to bring home to mom and dad, but I hear he's got a drinking problem. Why do all the hot ones have vices like that?”
She particularly enjoyed her gossip, especially if it involved the detectives at the precinct; you were positive she'd never mentioned Arsené before now. As smart as she was, she didn't look below the surface very often when it came to men, so for her to say nothing at all of the detective’s smooth face was mystifying.
After that, you started paying attention to Arsené in a way you convinced yourself was discreet: Slowly peeking your eyes above your computer screen to observe his movements across the floor. Always in motion, he stalked around the place with undaunted familiarity, maneuvering the razored corners of desks and blockades from doors and walls, and languidly sidestepped the oncoming traffic of bodies in such a way that seemed premeditated. Practiced. Repeated.
This staunch dedication of yours lasted well over a week before anything came of it, and then one morning you found him waiting in your seat, teetering a bloated manila folder on a thigh while bouncing it impatiently. A very real sensation of unease took hold of the back of your neck, like a cold hand stroking lightly at the downy hairs there until they stood straight.
You thought about pretending you hadn't seen him, swiveling around, and leaving in a burst of urgency. It'd be easy to call in to say you had a personal emergency or became suddenly, very viscously ill and wouldn't be able to handle staring at a screen for twelve hours. No one would ask questions because you were exemplary, always on time, and seldom took time off as you couldn't afford to do so.
Arsené’s head slanting sideways and the waxy, flat face pointing directly towards you prevented you from acting on that impulse, however. He gestured you over with a lethargic wave, though the jitteriness in his leg seemed to worsen from impatience into sheer excitability.
“Clocked in early, aren't you? You have quite the habit of doing that, I've noticed.” He greeted, voice simultaneously undefinable and velvety. It wasn't so deep that you felt like it was gravelly or reverberated in the same way a baritone would, but there was a heftiness to it that weighted in your mind, as if it were possible for someone to reach through all your blood, tissue, and bone and press down directly on your brain. “I've seen you come in a few times, hours before anyone else. And you know what I think? I think, ‘That’s the kind of person who keeps a place like this running. That's the kind of person we want here in this precinct. That's the type of person who believes in the work that we do and who I’d want as my partner’.”
As much as you wanted to get away from the horrid sight before you, the no-face and potent voice wriggling around the wrinkles in your brain, you couldn't bring yourself to do so just yet. Not while you had questions you couldn't find answers to, not while you needed to sedate yourself at night because they ruthlessly endangered your dreams and were thieves of peaceful slumber.
“I've never met you before,” you said, giving a cordial handshake when he had offered it to you. The skin of his palm was warm and humanlike, though his grip was all wrong and entirely too firm. You didn't convey this to him, though. “I've seen you around, though. Were you transferred from a different department or precinct? Everyone says you've been around for a long time, but I find it hard to believe I've noticed.”
“Oh? Well, they'd be right.” Arsené said, finally releasing your hand to take up the thick folder. “I've always been there, and I'm always here. Now, that aside, I've cleared it with the Chief and I'd like you to help me on a case that I'm stuck on. If I've read right, you're the most recent person who's looked through everything to update the records, correct?”
“Probably.” You didn't move when he rolled up another chair from a desk nearby. “I'm a Recorder. It's my job to go through files and periodically update them. I'm not qualified to help detectives on their cases, though. You'd need to speak to the Chief about getting an Assistant for that.”
“Ah, didn't you hear me? That's all been handled. Sit down. Sit down.” He waved you close, then took you by the arm to sit you in the chair next to him. “We have a lot to cover. I think we should start from the beginning and work our way through the evidence list, and then the interrogation tapes. After that, it'd be a good idea to revisit the site of the crime. Don't worry about clearances, I've got everything we need.”
It wasn't often that you saw the inside of the precinct after that day as Arsené particularly enjoyed his busywork and bringing you along for it. Most days you simply operated as a Field Recorder by transcribing statements into the handheld device provided by the precinct to maintain a digital trail. The work wasn't especially difficult, but it did take a level of skill and technological literacy to be able to do effectively, more so to be the sort allowed to tail after a detective on his cases and still maintain an overall ninety-eight percent accuracy.
Despite your job dictating it as such, Arsené never allowed you to fade into the background or stand around as a fancy accessory to go with his title. Oftentimes, he utilized you as his sole confidant as he worked through evidence and suspects, waiting in revered silence for you to offer your insight (however weak it actually was), and afterwards only let you bask in a glow of confidence through streams of unending praise.
“Egads! Eureka! Genius! How is it that it never occurred to me that way? Truly, you're spectacular! You're divine! Who knows how long I’d be running around in circles if I didn't have you as my partner.” They were all slightly variating compliments, though essentially all the same at the core and all very untrue.
You'd never forgotten about the things your colleagues had said about him, of his unrivaled prowess and veneration as the best detective Watt City had ever come to witness. He didn't need you. He had never needed you to solve a case, so you had learned to take his praise in the same vein as you did the silky-haired woman’s comments on men: uninspired and shallow.
When your disinterest became palpable, he seemed to only rely on you more as though he couldn't stand to be burdened with the idea of a rift. He had started calling you late at night about cases, going as far to come knocking at your door and walking inside reeking of stale smoke and a haze of booze, neither of which you could comprehend as possible considering he had no face.
“I just don't get it. I just don't get it! Where am I going wrong?!” He said so wretchedly, sides of his head cradled in his hands that were tucked between his legs. “This case, it’s getting to me. It's getting under my skin. I can't figure it out. Have I finally met my match? Have I finally been defeated? You! You’ve got to help me. It can't end like this.”
For all his dramatics, there was something obscenely cruel behind his words. Perhaps he thought you wouldn't have caught onto it because you simply a Field Recorder, just a person at the end of the day.
“Why haven't you mentioned anything about the victim? You're acting like they don't exist, Arsené. Is this about solving the crime so they get justice and the family gets closure, or for your reputation?” you asked.
He immediately stopped complaining and jolted upright, taken by surprise like he had realized this oversight and wasn't sure how to navigate around it. On that glossy slate of a face, one you knew was piercing deep into you despite a lack of hollow sockets and rolling gelatinous orbs within, you could tell he was now thinking of an answer.
“Neither,” was the answer he gave you. “It's neither of those. Come here. Sit down and talk to me for a while. I can't go home like this.”
The pitying part of you usually won in those moments where Arsené presented himself as his weakest. There was a part of you that believed he was taking advantage of your feeble-heart, your kindness, your blind generosity because at his worst, he'd find a way to strip you down and fuck you.
At least, that's what you assumed happened. You never really could remember as the memory was pitch black, his body was unfathomable above yours, but you were sure you felt his cock penetrating you, his hands desperately fondling your flesh and fat like there was too much to touch yet too little time to feel it all. He said things to you inside your head, words that you couldn’t seem to piece together yet ignited the tension between your legs, lit your skin on fire, and delivered lewd, high-pitched sounds to his ears that he reveled in.
He never left you a mess and he never spoke about those times after they happened. Since you were never sure of them yourself, they suffered the same indifference as his praise and the days simply moved onward in a similar way.
“Another case solved!” Arsené cheered, lifting a stout mug in the air for you to reciprocate with the long stem of your wine glass. It was a fragile tinkling sound, a gentle vibration up your fingers and into your wrist as you toasted his success. “I couldn't have done it without you, my beloved partner! If it's you and I, I could do this forever.”
You swirled the liquid inside; a light and dry, raspberry and vaguely earthy smell wafted up your nostrils before you tasted it and let your cheeks pucker. As you drank, you watched as Arsené lifted the stout towards the expanse of taut, clear skin that should've been his face, and saw liquid inside empty into nowhere.
a/n; so, some folks might remember arsené from my last blog, but back then he was just a concept. I haven't really started a deep dive into this character just yet, but the story ideas I have for him currently are pretty fucking wild and trippy.
"eldritch" isn't quite an applicable term for what he is, but it's the closest thing I can compare him to without giving everything away.
what does he actually look like? no one really knows. I didn't touch on it here in this fic, but typically, mc wouldn't know how to describe his appearance at all aside from having "no face". they can get glimpses of his skintone or hair, but immediately forget what those features of him when they look away. he's quite, literally, unfathomable lmao.
is he good or bad? that depends on the situation and context. the technical answer is that he is moralless in the sense that they have no reason to exist for him. he is above them, and below them. he is motivated by things he wants and acts on it whether that's "good" or "bad" on an alignment chart, he'd probably fall chaotic neutral, but not really evil.
does he love the mc? oh, yeah, he does.
anyway, yeah. he's a pretty fun concept to explore and I'd love to explore him more. let me know your thoughts!!
#monster x human#monster fucker#monster romance#monster story#monster#monster x y/n#darkfic#dark romance#eldritch#eldrich horror#eldritch monster#original fic#original writing#oc x y/n#oc x you#oc x reader#2k writes
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Dreaming of You
guys I love selena so much you DON’T understand.. @anisscarletstarlet HERE UGH 🙄🙄
summary ✦ forcing Sam, the heavy metal lover, to listen to one of your favorite songs that he definitely has never heard or even known about.
“pleasee!” you beg Sam, tugging on the sleeve of his shirt. “why? I already know I won’t like it.” he replies with his arms crossed as you two sat on his bed. “I listen to all the songs that you want me to listen to even though I don’t like them.” his eyes darted over to you as if he was offended.. he really didn’t care. sam knew you kinda hated his music, but at least you tried listening to it just for him, so he didn’t say anything.
“so, why can’t you do the same for me?” you continue, still tugging at him. sam rolled his eyes and groaned. “kay, but if i don't fuckin’ like it within the first few seconds, im not listening to it anymore.” your boyfriend says, making you smile. hes always been kind of a jerk, but it was whatever, thats just how he is with everyone. you turn the tv on, going to youtube and search up “dreaming of you” by selena and take a seat on his lap, his arms wrapping around your waist.
as soon as he hears the beginning tune of the piano, he groans and lays on his back. “yeah, im not listening to this shit.” what a drama queen. “too bad, I don't care, deal with it.” you reply, still sittting on his lap as you face the tv, getting ready to hear one of the most beautiful songs ever made (real). sam smirked at your reply to him, liking how you just told him to deal with it. he places a pillow under his neck, enjoying the view of you on his lap (while also giving in, listening to the song.)
“late at night when all the world is sleeping, I stay up and think of you.” he thinks it corny, but that first lyric makes him think of you. he does think of you at night when everyone else is sleeping. his nosy hands find their way to your hips, fingers sometimes pulling down at the hem of your sweatpants, but not daring to actually take them off because he knew you just wanted to enjoy this moment of listening to a sweet song.
to his surprise, he was actually paying attention to what the singer was saying in her song. the song actually reminded him of you. “so I wait for the day with the courage to say how much I love you,” that was pretty relatable, he guesses. in the middle of the song when the woman speaks spanish, he doesn't undertand, hut he had a feeling she was saying something like ‘I need you in my life’ or some other romantic bs like that.
even if he thought it was cliché and corny, he didnt seem to really hate it. it was okay. he wouldn't listen to it on his own time, but if it came up randomly on a playlist or the radio, he wouldn't skip it. probably just because the whole song reminded him of you. when the song finished, you turned the tv off and flipped yourself around to be face to face with him. “soo? did you like it?”
“I didn't hate it.” was his reply. his black stained eyes paid close attention to your pretty face, one hand caressing your jaw and the other on your ass. “reminded me of you,” he let a small smirk slip past his plump lips. “I love you, ya know?” he asks, his hand that was caressing your jaw, now messing with your hair. “yeah, I do.”
“I dream of you, too.”
｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ
taglist: @anakinstwinklebunny @heartsforanakin @anisscarletstarlet @sockiess @erosmutt @rottencandyblood @radiantvader @freezerbride95 @starsfortaylor 🎀
#sam monroe imagine#sam x reader#sam life as a house#sam monroe x you#sam monroe fanfiction#sam monroe x reader#sam monroe#life as a house 2001#life as a house#hayden christensen fic#hayden christensen x reader#hayden christensen imagine#hayden christensen
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You Belong With Me
Pairing: Mae x Noa
Note: Inspired by the photo Freya shared and this gorgeous rendition by @cj-k. Thank you for letting me share this beauty!
Mae found him by the fire, sitting with his pile of books and rolls of parchment. The hut he had crafted reminded her of a scholar's study, and she supposed it was. Or as close to one as it could be. It was still a shock to her that he could read, that he was teaching the others in the clan.
She told herself she did not wish to disturb him, but the truth was that her throat had closed up. This ape...he was the first that had showed her mercy and compassion, and he had nearly died saving her life. She had later saved his in return, but it did not feel enough, somehow.
"So late," Raka observed, glancing up at her at last. "And so..." His voice trailed off as he squinted in the dim light, trying to read her expression.
Mae quickly morphed her face into neutrality. Steeling herself, she forced herself to speak, to move forward with the inevitable. "I wanted to return this to you," she said, removing the familiar medallion from around her neck. She hesitated, feeling oddly bare without it, before extending it to him. "It is yours, after all."
Raka did not take it. He merely looked at the circular symbol, then met her gaze. "It was...a gift," he said gently. "For Noa. And now...it is yours."
Mae's hand shook. "Just take it."
"It is yours," Raka repeated.
"I don't want it!" she snapped, her voice cracking in the night.
Silence fell, heavy and uncomfortable. Raka closed his book, his dark eyes narrowing in a way that saw too much.
Mae let out a sound of exasperation and looked away. Her eyes wandered until they focused on the fading words of one of the tattered old books: The Words of Caesar. She knew this book. Raka read from it weekly to the others; she had listened only twice, too afraid to hear more.
With a sigh, Mae took a step forward and gently laid the necklace across the book so that the medallion rested on Caesar's name. She stared at it only briefly before finding Raka's gaze once more.
Sadness--and knowing--shone in his too-human eyes. She opened her mouth, but no words came out. She felt as stripped of voice now as she had in the wilderness. So she forced herself to turn, moving mechanically to the flap of the door. She reached for it, but then Raka halted her when he spoke.
"I finally found..." he started, "why we call them...Nova."
Mae hesitated. She did not want to know the reason, and yet she turned, angling her head slightly. Waiting. Dreading. Curious, despite herself.
But Raka only smiled gently. "A tale...for another day...I think."
"Maybe someday I could hear it," Mae whispered.
Raka bowed his head, his eyes shining. "I look forward...to that day...Mae."
Tears welled in her eyes, but she nodded, not trusting herself to speak. She darted outside into the chilly night. The moon shone brightly in the sky, and Mae practically sprinted away, heading past the rebuilt structures and toward the small hut the apes had built for her.
Her breathing was ragged as she flung back the animal pelt that served as a door. She she stood there a moment, taking in what had, for the past few weeks--or months--been her home. A bedding of blue cloth and sack stuffed with feathers for her head. A blanket of warmth. Pelts draped over the sides like makeshift walls for privacy. A bucket. A basket of nuts and fruits.
It was not like the bunker with mild human comforts, but it was...hers.
Mae did not know how long she stood there in silence, but a hoot of an owl had her finally moving.
Her hands shook as she knelt and hastily stuffed the few items she possessed into her ragged rucksack. She swiped at her face angrily, wiping away the tears that threatened to fall.
"Going...somewhere?"
Mae whipped around in alarm, reaching for the knife in her boot on instinct. Noa stood in the makeshift doorway, watching her with a sort of calm wariness, his stance almost defensive. She hated that look, that stance--it was so frighteningly human.
His eyes tracked the knife in her hand, his nostrils flaring. In his right hand dangled the medallion. Her throat went dry.
Mae slid the knife back into her boot. "I have to leave," she managed to say, her voice hoarse.
Confusion gleamed in Noa's eyes. "Why?"
"I can't stay here. I'm not..." She struggled to explain how she felt, but forced her way through. "I don't belong here."
"You..." Noa's mouth worked as he mulled over her words, as though he could find no understanding in them. "You would...disappear into the night?"
Mae swallowed thickly, but said nothing. Could say nothing.
"Where would you...go?" He took a step inside, his face incredulous. "You said...you said you had...nothing left."
He had not spoken cruelly, but the words found their mark and Mae flinched. When she had returned here with an injured and scarcely-breathing Raka, she had planned on staying only long enough to see him recover. But then she had stayed longer, and finally admitted the truth to herself, to Noa--that she could not return to the others, to the bunker. That was the agreement, the price for her mission.
He had only asked if she had delivered her book. She said yes. They had spoken no more of it.
Mae had seen the satellites rotate, and knew she had succeeded. That hope for humanity had burned so brightly in that moment, but at some point these past few weeks, she had started to feel a sense of impending doom. She didn't know when she stopped hoping to be found by more humans and when she had started to dread it.
Mae wanted humanity to regain their dominance, their strength, but she wanted this clan, these apes who had accepted and forgiven her, despite what she had done, to remain untouched. She knew it was Noa and Raka's influence that aided in that forgiveness, but she was grateful none the less.
They did not deserve to be caught in the crossfire.
"Mae," Noa said, drawing her attention back to him. "It is...not safe," he insisted. "Out there...alone."
"It's not safe if I stay either."
He looked to her rucksack, then back to her, and took another step closer. "You are safe here...with Eagle Clan. With me."
Mae felt her heart shatter. He did not realize it was he who was not safe--because of her.
"I can't stay," she forced herself to say. "I can't, Noa. And whatever this is..." She waved her hand between them, letting the silence fall.
Noa angled his head. "What is...this?"
"It's..." Words failed her. She didn't know how to explain what it was between them. All she knew was that it would not end well. It couldn't possibly end well. "It's not important."
Noa stared at her.
"Not...important?" He angled his head slightly as he prowled closer, eyes narrowed. "Not important," he repeated, testing the words and making a face, as though finding them sour.
Mae could only say nothing. Could not bring herself to speak another lie. Not to him.
He stood close now, a mere inch taller but somehow towering over her. She glanced away, unable to bear the look on his face.
After what felt like an eternity, he reached up and gently slid the medallion back around her neck. Then he leaned down, bringing his mouth close to her ear. "You are a better liar...than that."
A tear slid down Mae's cheek. As he pulled back slightly, her eyes found his, and the intensity in his gaze took her breath away.
Against her better judgement, her right hand slid up his strong arm, curling into his fur. Her other hand found the band on his other arm, her fingers brushing against the soft feathers.
His arms went around her, angling himself almost protectively, like it was the most natural thing in the world. For a long moment they just stood there, locked in an embrace that seemed to stop time.
Noa's eyes seared into her soul, more human than she had ever seen. "You were...wrong," he breathed. "You belong...with me."
(This picture feels like a cliffhanger, so I ended this just so. In my mind, of course Mae stays. ;))
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Lestappen Fic Masterpost
Yours dynamic:
All independent fics with the top Charles, bottom Max dynamic . They can, but don't have to be read as the same universe
Yours (54k words)
Read the tags for kinks
Charles looks much too satisfied as Max leans back against the door, one eyebrow tugging up as he asks, “Do you want to fight?”
��Of course I want to fight.”
Charles only looks slightly amused. “Then fight.”
"Stop fucking telling me what to do!" Max yells.
Charles cocks his head. "What, because it turns you on?"
Alternatively:
Max doesn't want to like Charles, but Charles makes that really fucking difficult sometimes
Love Languages:
Foreign language kink
En Français (5k words)
Max does not speak French.
Did he take five years of French in school? Sure. Did he learn anything? Fuck no.
But he wants to know what Charles is saying when he's gossiping with Pierre or sharing anecdotes with Arthur or telling his mother about his week and he really, really wants to know what Charles is saying when he traps Max under his weight and presses kiss after kiss to every part of his face while he rattles on in French so fast Max barely catches ‘chéri’.
Charles cannot under any circumstances know about it though.
Alternatively:
Max secretly starts learning French and Charles catches him doing a Duolingo lesson and has a bit of a crisis about how Max sounds speaking French
In het Nederlands: (9k words)
"Maaax," Charles moans, flopping on the bed next to Max. "I think I just need to hear what it sounds like again, like the rhythms and sounds, you know? Say a sentence for me quickly?"
"Je bent volkomen belachelijk, er is geen reden om Nederlands te leren en je martelt ons allebei," Max tells him immediately before he sits up to look at his messages. (You're completely ridiculous, there is no reason for you to learn Dutch and you're just torturing us both.)
Charles sits up too, nodding thoughtfully. "What did you say?"
"Don't worry about it."
Alternatively:
Charles makes it his life's mission to learn Dutch, butchering Max's native language and breaking his eardrums in the process, but then Charles calls him schatje and Max can't handle it even a little bit
Il Calore: (7k words)
Temperature/Ice Play
"Charles," Max complains, even as his hand slips into Charles' hair to keep him there where he's mouthing against his sea salted skin, and he's already given in. "I'm hot."
Charles chuckles as he mouths a kiss right below Max's navel, licking up salt and sweat, and says, "Yes. Yes, you are."
Max sighs, half in annoyance, but he's already melting into the sheets under Charles' tongue.
Alternatively:
Max is melting in the Italian summer heat and Charles' way of cooling him down is to get him hot and bothered.
Down Deep (11k words)
The summary says it all
It's just a thing Charles says sometimes.
"Fuck, I should keep you filled with my come all day."
What he doesn't expect is the way that, this time, Max whines and babbles, "Yes. Yes, please, keep it in me all day, want it, Charles, please."
Alternatively:
Charles gives Max exactly what he wants
Settle Down (11k words)
Cock warming
"Hmm." Charles puts a finger under Max's chin to tilt his head up to look at him. "Look, I'm not trying to minimise it, you're right to be upset and I do want to listen to you, so don't kick me when I say this, I'm just trying to help you."
"Say what?" Max snaps.
Charles looks at him a second. "Will you calm down if I give you my cock under the desk?"
Alternatively:
Sometimes Max just needs a little help to calm down.
Pretty (6k words)
Praise kink
Max huffs. “I’ve looked at myself plenty of times and I don’t see it.”
“What, that you’re pretty?” Charles asks in absent confusion, sounding like he’s a little too distracted by his determination to press kisses down the stubble on Max’s jaw to even really know what they’re talking about.
“Uh, yeah,” Max just says. “I’m just not all that pretty, Charles.”
Charles freezes and then he sits up and looks at Max with a look of utter horror. "What do you mean you're not that pretty?"
Alternatively:
Charles makes sure Max knows that he is, in fact, very pretty
Other smut:
ie. the one top Max fic I wrote only to never write another
Kiss It Better (11k words)
Charles was known to be a bit dramatic, Max had always known this about him.
Max almost gets a heart attack when Charles texts him:
Chéri
Come get me it hurts
Alternatively:
Five times Charles is dramatic about the most minor of injuries imaginable (and how Max handles that) and one time he's actually hurt and doesn't fucking say anything
Fluff:
Established Relationship:
Puppy Eyes (6k words)
Max wants to say no so badly.
But Charles has the dog pressed to his cheek and they have those matching pleading faces right next to each other and, really, Max is just proud of himself for not dissolving into a puddle on the floor.
How is he meant to say no to them when they look at him like that?
Alternatively:
Leo and Charles are carbon copies of each other who team up to weasel anything their hearts desire out of Max. But turns out puppy eyes work on Charles too.
Black Cat Behaviour (5k words)
"Hmm?" Max hums sleepily, right as the cat makes a half-aware mrrp.
Identical.
Oh god that's cute.
Alternatively:
Max has no idea just how much he behaves like his cats
High Maintenance (5k words)
"You're really fucking high maintenance, you know that?" Max tells Charles quite sincerely as he clings to Max from behind, limbs wrapped tight around Max who is trying very hard to squirm out of his arms and get out of bed to be productive.
"No, I'm not, what are you talking about? All I need to be happy is cuddles and you are denying me."
Max sighs and gives up again, going slack in Charles' immovable grip, much to Charles' apparent satisfaction.
Alternatively:
Charles is really high maintenance. Max is less annoyed about it than he pretends to be
One shots:
The Cat Conspiracy (5k words)
"Max, you didn't tell me they were so cute in person," he laments. "Can I?" He gestures toward the little fuckers.
Max is speechless for a second before he says, helplessly, "Of course."
And Sassy just lets him pet her.
She starts purring.
Alternatively:
Charles comes over one time and the cats decide they like him better than Max and then he keeps coming over and being all cute with them and calling them baby and Max can't decide whether he's more jealous of Charles or of the cats.
Author's note:
Will try and keep this updated if I write smth new, might change it at some point
Anyway, feel free to ask me any questions abt anything or just yap at me <3 (please yap at me)
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hi angelll!!!
sev and reader who talks in her sleep? like sevika wakes up to reader talking about her in her sleep i just think it'd be so cuteeee <33
black fem reader if u can please <3
CUTEEEEEEE RAHHHHHHHH
men and minors dni
sevika's heard of sleep-talkers, but she's never experienced one until the first time she sleeps over at yours.
she watches you prepare for bed in fascination, trying to memorize all the lotions and potions you use as your night-skincare routine, admiringly watching you wrap your hair up in your bonnet.
she sleeps like a fucking baby with you beside her, all soft and warm and smelling like the flowery scent of your face lotion. it's the best sleep of her life until--
"sevika."
she's awake in a snap, scanning the room for danger while she reaches out with her hand to protect you where you lie. wait. you're not sitting up beside her.
sevika shakes her head and blinks a couple times, looking down at where you sleep beside her. she coulda sworn you'd just said her name, but maybe it was just a part of her dream?
sevika settles back down against your bed, curling around you, and she almost closes her eyes to go back to sleep when you speak again. "spicy chicken sandwich with fries and a large water." you mumble. "thank you."
sevika bursts into laughter and crawls out from under the covers to hover over you on all fours as you sleep, watching in fascination as your face scrunches up in response to something in your dream.
"sevika!" you huff, suddenly upset. she wonders what she did in your dream-- probably smacked your ass. that's usually the response smacking your ass gets her. "no, it's for spring solstice." you say suddenly in a pleasant, customer service voice.
sevika can't stop laughing. she can't imagine what's happening in your head, but she's getting a kick out of hearing you mumble about it.
from there on out, each time you wake her up with your sleep talk she listens in fascination and adoration until you eventually settle back down. sometimes she talks back.
"there's DNA evidence." you mumble one night as sevika trails back to bed after a visit to the bathroom. she giggles at your ramblings.
"you in trouble with the law, baby?" she asks as she crawls into bed beside you. you shift in your sleep, subconsciously turning toward her body.
"missed you, sevy." you whine. she kisses your forehead.
"i'm right here baby."
"you wanna make s'mores?" you ask.
sevika chuckles. "when you wake up, sure."
"mmm... okay." you mumble, before settling down.
sometimes, if she's lucky, she gets a peek into your dirty dreams.
last night she woke up to you thrashing, your bonnet thrown across her chest at some point during your restless sleep.
she knows how much you hate sleeping with your hair unprotected, so she tries her best to gently pull the bonnet back over your hair.
it's a bit of a struggle. she must wake up some part of your mind in the process, because you start to mumble under her.
"sev?"
"just puttin' your hair up for you babe." she whispers, kissing your forehead and settling back down beside you.
"can i eat you out?" you ask.
sevika chokes on her spit, then sputters a laugh. "fuck yeah, you can." she giggles. "anytime you want, baby."
"'s not fair." you huff.
"what?" she asks.
"i wish i had a dick s' i could cum in you." you mumble.
this time, sevika can't manage a laugh, she just chokes and tries to catch her breath as you whimper beside her.
she doesn't sleep super well after that. your words just play on repeat in her mind until the sun rises.
you don't believe her in the morning, flustered and hiding your face behind your hands when she repeats your words back to you. you're so fucking cute that it makes the night of horny-sleeplessness worth it for sevika.
taglist!
@fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @leomatsuzaki @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @vikasub @glass-apothecary @m0numents @macaroni676 @vixel352 @artinvain
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One More Race - Chapter 2 - Lando
Summary: New to formula 1, Dutch driver Y/N L/N. F2 and F3 world champion, now racing for Lamborghini in F1. The only woman racing in F1 right now.
Chapter song: Born to die - Lana Del Rey
Word count: 1358
Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2iH7vTDNnObb2HMBDuRhrY?si=9ec8ffb7ec164637
Taglist: @the-holy-trinity-I @laura-naruto-fan1998 @hiireadstuff @assholeinatrenchcoat @itsjustkhaos
A/N: taglist open! also, i wrote most of this at midnight, so please do let me know if i made any mistakes!
“And that's Y/N out!”
“Y/N crashed! Will she ever recover?”
“And the dutch Lamborghini driver is out!”“OH! That must've hurt! L/N is out!”
It hurt hearing those messages, seeing the yellow and red flags around the track, it hurt seeing her so upset.
She won't talk to me, she won't talk to Logan.. It's just been radio silence..
“Lando! Are you coming or not? I can't do this on my own.” I look up, Logans shouting pulling me out of whatever headspace I was in.
I nod and quickly get up from the bench I was on.
“Are we really kicking the door in? It's a hotel, we can just go down to the reception..” I grimace at the thought of what the team and hotel managers will have to say about us kicking down Y/N’s door…
“We'll pay for it, it's just a damn door. And Y/N is more important than that right? She let the comments get to her! Have you not seen the comments?-” “I’ve seen the damn comments! I have not seen Y/N! But that doesn't mean I'll just break down her hotel door!” Logan notices my obvious frustration and nods.
“Fine, we'll go get a room key..” He mutters and turns promptly around to the elevator.
For a moment I'm shocked he actually listened to me, so far, when it's about Y/N, he wouldn't listen to me. I know he's her teammate, but that doesn't stop me from being her best friend on the grid..
Best friend… a term I've grown to hate when it's about Y/N…
“This was your idea! Let's go or I'm actually kicking the door in!” Logan once again shakes me out of my daze and I quickly walk to the elevator.
“Coming.. Coming…” I mumble as I click the button to go to the lobby.
“She shut me out.. Only speaking to her engineer and no one else..” Logan whispers as I nod in response. “She shut me out too.. The comments were horrible, I can only imagine what dms she's received.. The car is made for her, yet she's fighting it with her life.. If she continues this she might actually lose her life..”
We both sigh as my words sink in.
When we arrive at the lobby, I rush to the reception and asks for a room key to Y/N’s room.
“Could we please hurry this up?” I try my best not to rush the receptionist, but I can't help it, Y/N is on the line here..
The receptionist nods and I feel a hand on my shoulder, turning around I see it's Logan, who looks at me with a worried expression.
I watch as his hand moves down to mine, prying my hand open.. Now I notice that I've been digging my nails into my palms, creating small wounds on them.
“Sorry.. Guess I'm stressed, we don't know what we'll find in her room…” I mutter as I take the room key from the receptionist's hand.
Logan nods silently as we walk back to the elevator.
The elevator ride was silent, the loudest sound would probably be my heels clacking against the elevator floor.
“She’ll be fine man..” Logan mutters, his voice sounding not too sure about himself.
I nod, trying to calm myself.
When we arrive at the room, I hesitated to put the key to the lock.
“Are you okay?” I nod, finally gaining the courage to grab the key and open the door.
“Y/N? Are you there?” Logan calls out.
“Y/N? Where-” I'm interrupted by a sob coming from the bathroom.
I look at Logan, who nods and we both hurry to the bathroom door.
“Y/N? It's us, Lando and Logan..” I lean against the door, listening to the sobs, my heart shattering with each one.
“Can you let us in? We can't help you if we're outside and you're inside the bathroom..” Logan also leans against the door, our bodies close to each other as we listened for any new sounds.
After a few minutes the door opens a little, Y/N emerging from the bathroom with mascara streaks on her beautiful face..
Logan opens his arms for her and she rushes into them. I lead Logan to the queen sized bed, where he lays Y/N down.
I run my hand through her tangled hair, even though it is still as soft as ever..
“They’ve never gotten to me this bad…. Never…” Y/N whispers into a pillow, it's nice to hear her voice again.
“I know…” I whisper, looking at Logan for a little help.
Logan lays down next to her, looking her in the eyes, his hand on her cheek.
The second Logan's hand touched her cheek, I felt something course through me..
I quickly lay down next to them as well.
“How are the injuries..?” I whisper a frown on my face as I watch the bandages on her arms.
“Fine… they don't hurt as much anymore..” She whispers back, making me smile. It's been so long since I've heard her voice…
Logan sighs as he gently touches her arm, and on accident a bandage, making her wince in pain. “They do hurt, don't they?” She nods, obviously feeling bad for lying.
“Love… let us help you..” I plead.
In the corner of my eye I can see Logan getting an idea..
“What if we made you forget about those messages?”
What..? Does he mean..? No.. he couldn't..
“We could go to the park, cuddle some dogs and cats, maybe even go out for dinner..” Logan smiles at Y/N.
That wasn't what i expected.. My face turns red, which Logan surely noticed.
To my surprise Y/N nods, making me and Logan smile widely.
---------------🏎️---------------
The next few days are filled with spending time with Y/N, each day her smile growing and growing.
Today was the last activity, going out to dinner.
I had dressed in my best suit and so did Logan.
But once we picked Y/N up I immediately felt underdressed. Her beautiful light blue dress fitting her form perfectly and not leaving much to the imagination…
Logan and I held our arms out at the same time, making Y/N giggle and take both of our arms!
I did my best not to show any jealousy, I really tried, but seeing Logan’s smug face just did it…
But i had to stay calm, this was for Y/N.. to make her feel better.
When we sit down at our table the usual boring conversations start, ‘how was your day?’ ‘What did you do?’ always the same..
This is for Y/N..
Some more talk about data and the next races..
This is for Y/N..
Logans hand on hers..
This is for Y/N..
Longing looks between the two..
This is for Y/N..
How long have they known each other? It seems longer than how long they've been teammates…
This is for Y/N..
“How long have you two known each other?” I didn't mean to ask the question, it just came out.
The two share another look and Logan replies, “Since her F3 days, we used to race together for a short while.”
Knew it.
“Race with or against each other?” they both chuckle, as nice as it is seeing Y/N laugh, i don't want her laughing about this…
“We were on the same team, so it's a nice familiar feeling that we're on the same team again.”
Y/N is my friend..
I smile and nod, hiding my hurt.
Why am I feeling hurt? I've known her for a few weeks at best.
Y/N is my friend..
I shouldn't feel these things for her, she's my friend!
“Are you okay Lando?” Y/N’s soft voice pulls me out of the haze i was in.
I nod, “I'm fine Y/N. ready to leave whenever you are.”
Y/N nods and finishes her dessert.
Y/N is my friend…
Y/N is my best friend even..
Y/N is my…
What is she?
#logan sargeant x reader#formula1#formula one#f1 fanfic#logan sargeant x reader x lando norris#lando norris x reader#comfort#angst#fluff#i wrote most of this at midnight#f1 x reader#f1 fic#formula 1#lando norris#logan sargeant
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i love casper!! Can i request jealous casper because he met reader's ex or someone very close and felt insecure and stuff! Maybe drama with the ex still in love with reader and gets casper all heated up by saying things like "i can make him feel so good. Bet you can't compete. He moans so loud with me and he cums inside me sooo much."
Reader has no idea why casper is suddenly down/anxious and irritated
An: Hi, I hope you like this and have a good day/night/after noon. Don't forget to drink water :)
Jealous Of The Ex
Sub/Bottom Casper x Top/Dom Male Reader
Prompt - Jealous
Warnings - Fingering, unprotected sex, anal sex, praise, nicknames
I also want it noted while that there is smut it is not the main part of this fic, I recommend you read all of it. But if you want to get straight to the smut but go past the caution tape.
“For the last time, stop calling me!”
You yelled into your phone. You pulled your phone away from your ear and ended the call. You groaned and placed your phone on your desk, ignoring the beeps.
“Everything okay sunshine?” Casper asked, he doesn’t think he’s seen you so angry. He’s been listening to you yell into your phone for the past hour.
“It’s just my ex, they won't leave me alone. I think they still like me”, you said. You walked over to your bed and flopped on it. You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down.
Meanwhile Casper was thinking, he knew you had an ex, just not that they were like this. Casper felt angry at them, you obviously didn’t like them anymore, plus, they were making you stressed.
Casper heard your phone beep. Casper walked over to it, the screen lit up and Casper read the message. “Come on baby, I know you still love me”, it read, making Casper’s blood boil.
Casper turned the phone off, placing its screen down on the table. How dare they think you still like them, you loved Casper now, right? I mean, you said that you dated your ex for a few years before breaking up.
You’ve only known Casper for several months now. What if? Casper shook his head, no, he was being paranoid. Casper walked over to your bed and layed down next to you.
“It’s fine, they’ll stop”, Casper said. You sighed, “yeah you're right”, you said, turning your head to smile at Casper. Casper smiled back, yeah, you loved him.
Not your ex.
Casper heard a knock at the door.
Which confused him, you were still at work and you didn’t tell Casper that anyone would be coming. Casper placed his book down and walked to the door.
“Yes”, Casper said as he opened it. “Yeah, is Y/n here?” The person asked, peeking behind Casper. “Do you know him?” Casper asked, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Yes, I’m his partner, but who are you?” The person asked. Casper felt hands grip his arms tighter. So this was your ex, Casper could see what you dumped them.
Just hearing them speak made Casper want to punch them in their face. Plus, they were lying. Casper was your boyfriend, you were his and he was yours.
“No, I’m his boyfriend, now listen”, Casper said quietly, but angry.
“You’re just a ex who can’t get over him, I’m the one Y/n fucked last night, not you. I’m the one that got him moaning over me. I’m the one that made him cum inside me, you’re just an asshole”, Casper said through gritted teeth
The ex stared at Casper with wide eyes, “fine dude, whatever”, they turned on their heels and walked away. Casper slammed the door shut with a grunt.
Casper leaned against the door, who did they think they were. Who did they think they were? Casper did have to admit, they did look good.
You had dated them for years, you liked them, you fucked them. What if? What if they convinced you to go back with them? What if? Casper heard the door open.
Casper fell back but you caught him, “Whoa, you good Casp?” You asked, pushing him back up onto his feet. Casper furrowed his brows, walking away from you.
“You okay Casper?” You asked while taking off your shoes and jacket. Casper mumbled stuff to himself as you followed him. Casper turned around and sat on your bed, arms crossed and pout on his face.
“What's wrong?” You asked, worry evident on your face as you sat next to him. Casper turned his head away from you, he wasn’t mad anymore. He was more jealous.
You were the most important thing to Casper, he loved you more than anything. The thought of losing you scared Casper more than anything.
Casper hated it, Casper did all of this for you.
He ran away from everything he knew for you and then he might lose you. “Are you okay?” You asked Casper, noticing tears slowly running down his face. “I’m fine”, Casper said.
You turned to face Casper, “what happened?” You asked, grabbing Casper’s face in your hand and turning his face towards you. Casper stared at you before looking away and glaring.
“You’re ex visited, made me jealous”, Casper said. You sighed, “I’ll get a straining reorder on them I swear”, you mumbled. “But, you don’t have to be jealous. I love you, not them”, you said with a smile.
Casper calmed down, “yeah, I guess”, Casper said, though he was still a little jealous. Casper was a bit jealous about something else, about how you fucked them.
He knew you dated them before, but how they looked when Casper brought up the fucking. Casper was jealous of that. “You okay, you still look angry”, you said.
You glanced down, noticed a boner in Casper’s pants.
“Oh, that’s what you're still jealous about”, you said with a smirk. Casper looked towards you, just to see you smirking. “Oh, don’t worry, I’ll show you just how good you make me feel”, you pushed Casper onto his back.
You took off your shirt and opened your bedside draw, taking out a bottle of lube. Casper moved back on the bed, the smirk on his face matching your own.
You looked at Casper before nodding your head to his pants. Casper quickly removed his pants and boxes, revealing his half hard dick. You lifted one of Casper’s legs and lined up a lubed finger to his hole.
“Hmmm, yes”, Casper groaned as you slowly started to finger him. “You’re my boyfriend, my perfect fuck toy”, you said while adding another finger.
Casper moaned at the praise. You added another finger and sped up, your dick getting harder hearing Casper moan. Once you thought Casper was prepared enough you let his leg fall.
You grabbed the bottle of lube and squeezed some into your hand. “Look at this love, you made me feel like this”, you said. Casper leaned up on his arms, staring at your erect dick.
You didn’t remove your pants, just took your dick out. You didn’t have the patience to wait. Casper moaned and watched as you slid your dick into his hole.
“Ahhah~”, Casper moaned as you started moving slowly. “Do you feel me honey? Nobody can make me feel like this”, you said. Casper moaned again, “F-faster~, m-more~”, Casper groaned.
“As you wish”, you said before doing exactly what Casper wanted.
“Nnggee~, hmhmh~”, Casper moaned as you sped up. You groaned and leaned down, trapping Casper’s head between your hands. “You heard me pretty boy, you do this”, you groaned into Casper's ear.
Casper moaned and bucked his hips forward. You moaned and sped when you felt Casper tighten around you. “C-cumming~”, Casper moaned as he came on his and your stomachs.
You groaned and leaned back up, thrusting faster as you chased your orgasm. “Ahaha~”, Casper moaned as you came inside of him. You pulled out and smiled at the sight of cum dripping out of Casper’s ass.
You leaned back down and kissed Casper on the forehead. “I love you, not anyone else”, you said. Casper smiled, wrapping his arms around your neck to pull you closer to him. “I love you too, more than anything”, Casper said.
You were his, and he was yours.
#lgbtq#male reader imagines#male reader#top male reader#dom top male reader#dom male reader#sub character#bottom character#a date with death#a date with death x reader#a date with death grim#a date with death casper#a date with death x male reader#two and a half studios#visual novel#dating sim#adwd azrael#adwd grim#adwd x reader#adwd casper#adwd x male reader#anon ask#submitions
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Batfam Voices as Instruments
Batfam voices as instruments bc i think of things very musically and it struck me others don't
Bruce: bass guitar. he's low and deep and when he speaks, you feel it in your eardrums, straight into your jaw. his words are like injections into your skull, feel intense and impossible to ignore-- but he has softer moments, too. quiet, gentle plucking of strings, the careful, slow strums of a man who plays only for the ears who will know what the notes will mean
Alfred: viola. slightly deeper than a violin, but mostly just warmer. a voice you hear and want to hum along to, a voice that sits in your ears before it sinks into your chest. it's gentle and sways with grace across strings and notes, it plays a harmony that supports and compliments, that is a steady through-line for everything that surrounds it
Dick: trumpet. brassy and loud and present and fuck do you KNOW when he's in the room. he's so bright and warm and MEANT to be heard. you hear him in your heart, every time he speaks, feel it deep in every vein like he's writing gospel into your DNA. and usually it's jazzy, it's excitement and riffs and improv and leaping off the page and doing cartwheels across a music staff-- but he's just as capable of whispersoft confessions of heartbreak and loss in D minor, can let loose a lament of all he's lost in an elegy of epic proportions
Barbara: harp. a challenging instrument to understand and play, and one she plays with ease. she is plucking strings with careful fingertips, strums across them all with a single hand. she's a melody that glides past your ears, a song that doesn't sink in-- if you're not paying attention to the hooks that latch into your brain. she is careful compositions and sweeping songs arranged for each audience with care. yet when she feels wrath, she shreds herself to make sure you feel it-- she takes scissors to her own strings to cut deeper than the song could alone
Jason: cello. deep and contemplative, with a sort of vibration that bites into your bones from the moment he opens his mouth. waxing poetic is his native tone, and it sounds like a bow dancing across strings and fingers traversing the frets like they were made for it, a soothing melody that could be a lullaby. when fury comes, the sound alone is so sharp where it's settled into your joints that you can't fight back; it's vicious strokes across the strings that shred the bow's hairs without care, wrath in every pull like it's a sword. he can settle into the orchestra or he can sweep them all offstage to stand alone against the conductor that dared to direct him
Cass: marimba. light and soft and so very deliberate. all those bars close together, and each hit with precision, because when Cass speaks, each sound and syllable is effort and choice and control. she is range and gentle dancing note to note and a sound that settles on your skin like a gentle rain, clinging and soft and so very present. to hear it is to hear if a storm could sing and serenaded the sky it calls home. she is echoing in an empty room until she fills it herself (i think of this specifically)
Tim: piano. it's all about the force put into it-- he can be the most careful, calculated guy in the room, playing with all the rigor and rigid professionalism of a NY Symphonic pianist. but the real Tim is the one who's fingers flutter playfully over the keys, who's voice cracks from laughter and sleep deprivation and stress, who trembles between octaves as his fingers tire but makes the leap anyway. he is clear ringing notes in a crowded room and rambling words like a glissando back and forth across the ivories, he is a song quiet enough to fall to the background but a complex and delicate tune if you care to listen
Steph: drum kit. she is all intensity and living in the moment and sharp impacts and a beat that never stops, never waits for the rest. she can get lost to the rest of the voices in a room, but you'll never shake that she's in your head, that her voice is there and present and presses against the base of your skull like it wants to worm straight in. she's rhythm and motion and changing things up just to do it; her voice hops from the snares to the bass to the snares and back to bass and never lets you think between notes, she's moving so fast, because it's all her, nothing she ever has to question, even if she makes you question with every slam on the cymbal
Damian: violin. he is careful in his every motion, ever meticulous with all he does; he lives in fear of being out of tune, of off-key notes for a long time, and so each one is practiced and known to the point of monotony. but over time, he thaws and the notes become more loose, more free-- he speaks less like his eyes are glued to the page, furiously tracking each note he'll play and more like the natural he is-- he becomes sharper in a different way than the rest of him, notes out of place that jut from the rest and it's okay that they do, a hum of songs that don't follow classic melodies and don't feel the need to. don't mistake it though-- his voice has always been as regal and pointed as the rest of him was raised to be, and his voice grabs both your ear and your eyes, dragging you to look at him, for him to be seen and noticed and given attention
Duke: saxophone. he is deep and rich and resonating. his voice is emotion and expression and honesty. his voice sits on your tongue because hearing him makes you want to speak, want to talk and chat and ramble with him, to reply to his melody with any harmony to match. he is a voice meant to be heard by many, who may not stand out in a room naturally but makes himself stand out by the passion in his voice. he is a slow, experimental hand that plays notes with hesitance until the rhythm hits him and suddenly, it's a melody of energy and power and a presence that he doesn't even know he has
#dc#batfam#bruce wayne#jason todd#tim drake#dick grayson#damian wayne#stephanie brown#barbara gordon#duke thomas#alfred pennyworth#cassandra cain#if i had the brainpower i'd have given an example song for each of them but i have actual writing to do on a deadline so whoops sorry#val says words
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When You Say Nothing At All
Pairing: Azul Ashengrotto x GN!Reader
Summary: Just Azul's thoughts about you and your love for him.
Word Count: 900+
Notes:
Established relationship.
A/N:
Hi hi! It's been a while since I've written anything. Things happened IRL and.. well, I guess I've been having a writer's block? Sad 😭😭 Anyways, I was listening to my playlist "Old But Gold" while taking my shower and then the song "When You Say Nothing At All" by Ronan Keating played, and then.. ting! This suddenly came to mind!!
It's amazing how you can speak right to my heart
Azul liked to think he was a very capable man. He was quite intelligent and confident in his skills. A calculating man who always has a plan. It was how he earned his position as Housewarden of Octavinelle and how he was able to open his own restaurant inside the school.
He lived a busy life. Fulfilling his responsibilities as a student. Attending meetings and doing certain tasks as a housewarden. Being a manager and handling business at the Mostro Lounge. He definitely has a lot on his plate, especially right now with the major exams coming up. Add in his housewarden duties, increased consultations, and then the Lounge getting busier. Work just seemed to pile one after another at an increased rate, wearying him down.
Azul let out a soft sigh as he finally finished working on an important document. He gently set the pen down before slowly turning his head to look at his side.
Right there sitting beside him was you. His beloved. His sweetheart. His romantic partner.
Without saying a word, you can light up the dark
Azul was proud to say that you were the most pleasant change in his life. You made him feel happy. You made him feel loved. You made him feel safe. You were everything to him.
As his eyes trailed over your form, he noticed how cozy you looked, sitting with your legs up on the comfy chair that he specifically bought just for you while leaning against his side as you read your book. He felt his heart pound at the sight of you so close and comfortable with him.
Try as I may, I can never explain
Azul was a busy man and sometimes he couldn't help but feel guilty because of it. He felt that he was lacking as your partner because he couldn't always spend time with you as much as you want. Yet, you always stayed with him. Saying it was okay and that you understand. And that you'll always be by his side no matter what.
What I hear when you don't say a thing
He remembered that one moment during the early times of your relationship. Azul was suddenly swamped with things to do and had to reschedule your date. He felt terrible at having to do so, but you still smiled at him and said that it was alright. You then asked him if it was okay for you to hangout in the VIP Room with him while he worked. It had him confused. As much as he enjoys your company, he didn't want to bore you with just sitting there while he was busy working. You could be doing something else. Something more fun and enjoyable, and maybe in the company of others, but you said wanted to stay with him. You wanted to be around him even if it was just sitting in the same room in silence.
The smile on your face lets me know that you need me
Azul could never forget the bright smile on your face when he agreed to that. The way you suddenly jumped into his arms for a hug and his face a blushing mess as you beamed up at him. He saw how extremely happy you were with the idea of simply being together. You always loved being in his presence, and Azul loved being in yours as well. It was euphoric for Azul to know how much you were delighted to be with him.
There's a truth in your eyes saying you'll never leave me
You were honestly too good to be true. Azul sometimes wondered why you even chose him instead of the other people around you. As if hearing his thoughts, your head turned to look up at him and he could see the surprise in your eyes. His eyes gazed at your pretty ones and you stared back at him. It was as if you were trying to figure out what the other was thinking. Then Azul saw your lips curve into a smile. That gorgeous smile of yours that always made his heart leap. And in your eyes, he saw the complete and utter love you always had for him.
The touch of your hand says you'll catch me wherever I fall
Your hand made its way to cup his cheek. When your skin touched his, Azul couldn't help but place his bare hand on top of yours as he leaned against your gentle touch and closed his eyes in relief. Moments like this reminded Azul of how much you truly loved him. That despite the ups and downs in life, you will always stay by his side.
You say it best
Azul opened his eyes slowly, revealing the blue irises that you always thought and said were pretty. Your face was the same as before, looking at him with a loving expression from the way your eyes gazed adoringly and the way your lips smiled warmly at him. It made him want to kiss you.
And he did.
He kissed you with all of his heart. He poured all his love and devotion for you into that sweet yet passionate kiss. And when you kissed him back with the same passion, his worries were gone in an instant. All that was left were the sparks and fireworks setting in his heart, knowing that you'll always love him as much as he'll always love you, even...
—when you say nothing at all.
Did you like my work? If you did, you can check out my blog for more! ^^
Masterlist here!
Thank you for reading! Love love!! 🩷💜
#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland x reader#azul ashengrotto#azul ashengrotto x reader#escha writes🩷
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