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#I'm so sick of being busy and I'm about to stop time to get back to writing I'm so frustrated haha
storiesforallfandoms · 20 hours
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the ice cream girl ~ mike schmidt;five nights at freddy's
word count: 2144
request?: no
description: in which his regular ice cream spot in the mall hires a new girl
pairing: mike schmidt x female!reader
warnings: use of y/n
masterlist (one, two, three)
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Mike's routine at the mall was a constant: clock in, do two laps around the mall, go for lunch with whoever else was on with him - usually Jeremiah - another few laps around the mall where he'd stop to talk to some of the store managers, then clock out and go home. The only deviations to his routine were the occasional birthday parties he'd be tasked with watching over, and whenever there was someone who needed to be handled by security.
Until he met a new worker at the mall.
He was in line for the ice cream place he would occasionally go to for a dessert after his lunch. They saw him so frequently that his order was usually ready before he even got to the counter - another usual in his routine.
But on this day, when he walked up to the counter, a new face was smiling at him.
"Welcome to Ice Cream Parties," she said. "What can I get for you?"
Mike opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off by Cindy, one of the usual workers, saying, "We have his order, (Y/N). He's a regular."
(Y/N)'s eyes flickered to Mike's security uniform. "Well, that does make sense. Sorry, today's my first day."
"No, that's alright," Mike said. He desperately tried to think of something else to say, but found himself staring blankly at her instead. He was sure she thought he was crazy, and that thought made his face start to heat up.
Cindy came up to the counter with Mike's usual in hand. She passed it over to him with a smile before going back to work. Mike realized then that he hadn't paid yet. As he started taking his wallet from his pocket, (Y/N) said, "On the house."
"Are you sure?" Mike asked.
She nodded. "Consider it a kind gesture for a regular."
"Well...thanks."
"No problem. It's nice to meet you, Mike."
He was about to ask how she knew his name, but she nodded to his name tag before he could.
Right, that would make sense.
"Nice to meet you, too, (Y/N)."
After that, visits to Ice Cream Parties became part of Mike's routine. The first few visits were under the guise of actually getting ice cream for himself and Jeremiah. If it wasn't too busy, he was able to have brief conversations with (Y/N) while his order was being made. That excuse didn't last very long, though, as eventually Jeremiah put an end to the almost daily ice cream runs.
"Man, I'm going to gain like 10 pounds a week if you keep getting ice cream for us," he had said.
Mike had to admit, he was getting sick of eating ice cream so much, too. Seeing (Y/N) so often had made it worth it at first, but there was only so much of the frozen treat he could take before it became too much. He thought he'd have to come up with a new excuse to see her all the time, but she took him by surprise by doing it for him.
He was doing his rounds during a shift when he saw (Y/N) walking towards him. She had a smile on her face and she waved when he spotted her.
"Hey!" she said. "I've been looking for you?"
"You have?" Mike asked.
"Yeah! I haven't seen you in a bit. I was worried you quit or something."
"God, no, that's not happening. This is probably the easiest job I could have. I've just...been taking a break from ice cream."
"I don't blame you. You've had so much of it lately, I'm surprised you're not just a walking ice cream cone at this point." She playfully bumped his shoulder as she added, "You know, if you wanted to talk to me, you didn't need an excuse."
Mike was shocked into silence. Had it really been that obvious? He had tried to play it cool when he went, but maybe he hadn't been cool enough. Maybe it had been glaringly obvious every time he walked up to the counter and ordered whatever new flavor she recommended that he was desperately trying to figure out a way to ask her on a date.
But then she smiled and laughed, and Mike felt a weight being lifted from his chest.
"I'm joking," she said. "Mostly. If you wanna talk to me, you don't need to come buy ice cream. Just come talk to me."
"Noted," Mike said with a nod. "Well...what are you doing this evening?"
"I'm working the closing shift."
Mike tried not to let his disappointment show. "Oh. I, uh, I'm off in about an hour."
"I clock in in about an hour."
"Not meant to be, I guess."
(Y/N) shrugged. "I guess not. I have to run a quick errand before work, but I mean what I said - don't be a stranger, Mike."
Mike nodded. Once (Y/N) had turned and walked away, he let himself deflate. It wasn't a "no" because she wasn't interested, but it was still disheartening. It was definitely going to take time to build up his courage to ask her again, but at least now he knew she welcomed his company.
A week or so later, Mike found himself at the mall again on his day off. He usually hated to be there when he wasn't working, but Abby started school the next week and she needed new clothes. She had been begging him for weeks to take her shopping, but he kept putting it off until he had no choice but to take her. On the plus side, Abby was extremely easy to shop with because she knew what she wanted, and she knew where to get it. It would be a quick in and out and he could be away from the mall within an hour and a half tops.
But, after leaving Abby's favorite store with the intent on going home, Abby stopped Mike and said, "I'm hungry."
"We have food at home," he reminded her.
"I don't want actual food. I want a snack."
"We have snacks at home."
"We don't have ice cream at home."
That was enough to shut him up and get him to agree. He had no idea if (Y/N) was working that day, but he wasn't about to pass up an opportunity to see her.
As luck would have it, she was working. She was at the counter in her stripped apron and white paper hat. She was passing the customer in front of them an ice cream, her customer service smile plastered on her face. Mike had come to learn the difference between her customer service smile and her real smile, because when she would look at him the dull smile would brighten just a little.
When the customer stepped away, he got to see her face light up at the sight of him.
"Oh, hey Mike!" she said. "I thought you were off today."
"I am. I had to take my sister back to school shopping," Mike said, gesturing to Abby.
(Y/N) looked down at Abby and offered her a warm smile. "Well hey there. I had no idea Mike had a sister."
"This is Abby. Abby, this is (Y/N)."
"It's nice to meet you, Abby."
"You too," Abby said. To Mike she added, "Is she the one you always talk to Max about?"
Mike's ears were on fire as (Y/N) looked back up at him. Abby always knew how to say the right things to embarrass him.
"Just tell her what you want," he muttered, suddenly no longer in the mood for ice cream.
Abby ordered for herself and (Y/N) went to make it. Cindy took over at the cash while (Y/N) stepped away, which disappointed Mike. Usually Cindy was the one making the orders while (Y/N) was at the cash, and they'd have their small conversations while Mike waited. He really hoped what Abby had said hadn't scared (Y/N) off completely.
She came back and handed Abby her ice cream.
"Are you guys sticking around much longer?" she asked Mike.
"We weren't really planning on it. Abby just wanted ice cream before we went home."
"I'm off in, like, 10 minutes. If you guys don't mind a third, I mean."
Mike agreed without consulting Abby. Not like the younger girl really cared either way. She was already deep into her ice cream and ignoring the whole conversation.
Mike and Abby sat at a nearby table to wait for (Y/N). Abby finished her ice cream in record time, giving herself a brain freeze. Mike couldn't help but laugh as his sister scrunched up her face in pain.
"That's why you don't eat cold foods that fast," he said.
"Do you like (Y/N)?" Abby asked through the brain freeze pain.
The quick change in topic startled Mike. "I mean...yeah. She's my friend."
"But you like her," Abby said. "You always talk about her, and I saw the way you look at her."
Mike shrugged, trying not to give Abby any other ideas. He didn't need her blurting something else out and embarrassing him again. "She's a friend, Abby. Friends talk about friends."
"Friends don't look at other friends like they want to kiss them, though."
Mike chuckled. "Some do."
Abby gave him a look. He sighed and said, "Maybe I do, but that doesn't give you permission to say stuff to her about it, okay? For now, we're just friends."
"You should ask her out. I think she'd say yes."
"It's not that easy, Abs."
"What's not that easy?"
Mike jumped at the sound of (Y/N)'s voice behind him. When he looked at her, she was already changed out of her work uniform. "Nothing. Abby and I were just talking."
He shot Abby a look to tell her not to say anything. (Y/N) looked between the two of them with a skeptical look on her face.
"Do you have a ride home?" Mike asked.
"If you're offering, then yes. I was supposed to wait around for my roommate to get me, but I'd much rather hang out with you guys and get out of here."
The three of them walked to Mike's car. Abby filled most of the silence by talking to (Y/N) about whatever came to her little mind. (Y/N) just smiled and responded as Abby spoke. Mike would sneak glances at her and smile to himself.
Abby got into the car first, and as Mike was reaching for the door handle to get in himself, (Y/N) said, "Wait."
He paused and looked up at her, confused.
"Why haven't you asked me out yet, Mike?"
The question took him completely by surprise, but that seemed to be her specialty at this point. He opened his mouth to respond, but all that came out was some stuttered nonsense.
"I mean, if you don't like me then that's fine, I get it," she continued. "But I thought that maybe we had a connection, and I keep thinking you're going to ask me out and then you don't, and I'll be honest, I'm losing my mind a little bit."
"Whoa, whoa," Mike said. "Slow down. I'm sorry that's how you're feeling, but I've been trying to ask you out. I did ask you out a few weeks ago!"
"That wasn't asking me out! You asked what I was doing and I said working. You didn't even follow up to try and figure out a different day we could've went out instead!"
"I didn't know I was supposed to do that!"
They both paused and, after a moment, they started to laugh.
"I'm clueless with this stuff," Mike admitted. "I haven't dated since high school."
"Well, here's a tip: if you like a girl, ask her out. Her liking you back is more likely than you'd think."
Mike smiled. "Do you want to come over for dinner? I'm sure it's not exactly the date you're thinking of, but Abby wants spaghetti and meatballs tonight, and I do make a mean spaghetti and meatballs."
(Y/N) smiled back. It was brighter than her real smile. It was what Mike decided to dub her "Mike smile".
"I'd love to," she said. "I love spaghetti and meatballs."
Abby opened her car door then and looked between the two of them. "What's taking you so long?"
"Hey Abs, would it be okay if (Y/N) joined us for dinner?" Mike asked, although he already knew the answer.
Abby lit up with excitement and vigorously nodded her head. Mike and (Y/N) finally got into the car and they made their way back to Mike's place. The entire car ride he couldn't wipe the smile from his face.
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whysamwhy123 · 3 months
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HALLEJUAH!! I REMEMBERED HOW TO ACTUALLY FINISH WRITING SOMETHING FOR A CHANGE!!
Of course, it's not any of the fics I wanted to finish. I went back to what is essentially my bread-and-butter now and wrote a short-ish, random OrangeHook fluff. But considering how much writing's been a struggle as of late, I'm just glad that I successfully finished something. I was back in one of those stretches where I couldn't seem to write much of anything. And this fic isn't about their age difference or Hook being a cuddlebug, so...progress?
Unless I decide I completely hate it (which is always a possibility) expect something to drop on Valentine's Day, tis the season, after all.
#What is wrong with you Sam you should not be allowed to write#Small victories you know?#Will I ever get sick of OrangeHook?? Apparently not#Can't even remember the last time they interacted on screen but that ain't stopping my brain LOL#On a more serious note - I really do hope that I can get back into the swing of things and make some real progress#On the bigger fics I want to work on#I want to finish the messy angst OrangeHook fic at some point even if it's unlikely to appeal to anyone#Annnnnd deep down in my cold dead heart I still wanna make an honest attempt at that DG Dead Dove fic#Even though that would be even more unappealing + a huge undertaking because that bitch would be loooooooooong#Also I had a slightly less angsty OrangeHook idea recently about them having their first fight and I wanna write that too for some reason#And there's still a part of me that really wants to continue Business/Pleasure because I have soooo many ideas for that AU#But that would require me to get over my inability to write smut#And I don't know how to do that (would appreciate any advice on that if you've got some...)#But at the same time I don't wanna beat myself up for not being able to write much - if anything - most days#This is a hobby after all - it's supposed to be fun#There ain't no deadline and it's not like I'm letting anybody down#Just gotta do at my own place#And write whatever absolute trash I want to write 😈#My tags are always so obsessive like SHUT THE FUCK UP SAM#But if you've actually read all these - hey. Thanks. Love ya 😘
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luveline · 3 months
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hi honey!! i have a request of sad spencer comforted by bombshell reader. maybe hes the one on the brink of tears and really shes just there for him please
thanks for your request!!! fem, 1k
Spencer Reid can't stop frowning. 
“You know what I've been reading lately?” you ask him. 
“Cosmopolitan?” 
“That's just sexist.” 
Spencer points at the copy of Cosmopolitan hidden between papers and an open book where it lies on the desk in front of you, a smile interrupting his frown momentarily. “Sorry,” he says. 
“Oh, don't be sorry.” You squint at him ever so slightly as you cross one leg over the other and sink back into your borrowed seat. “That's on me. But, you know… this isn't my desk. That could be anybody's magazine.” 
He laughs politely and turns back to his work. 
“You don't wanna know what I'm actually reading?” you ask. 
He stares at his keyboard. “Mm.” 
He's not listening. That's alright. You don't really want to tell him about what you've been reading; it's just a book. 
You slide your chair closer to his and peek at the computer. He's on a page for American Airlines, flights to Las Vegas, but he hasn't clicked anything. Spencer grew up in Las Vegas, and his mom still lives there alone in a sanitorium for the mentally ill. She can get really sick at a moment's notice. You know he’s been thinking about that more lately. 
“Is everything okay, Spencer?” you ask quietly. 
You incline your head to his. He looks up, at first surprised by your attention, and then abashed. “Yeah.” 
“You don't seem yourself,” you say, putting your hand on his arm. You feel up to the crook of his elbow, waiting for him to shrug you off. He doesn't move. You stroke his skin with your thumb. “You can talk to me, you know? I hope you know that, anyways.” 
“Yeah, I know, it's…” His voice wobbles. You lean in closer. “It's nothing.” 
The first time you saw Spencer cry, he was in a hospital room being weaned off of a terrible thing, and it was sudden but expected all the same. He was suffering, recovering but in pain, and you would've cried if the roles were reversed. That was a long time ago. Seeing him upset doesn't get easier. 
“Spencer,” you murmur, “What's wrong? You look like you could burst into tears. Do you need me to get you a glass of water?” 
He shakes his head. You stay right there by his side waiting for the inevitable, the tears gathering in his eyes that he blinks away, and his painful swallowing. You have two hands —the one that isn't squeezing his arm jumps to his back to hold his stiff shoulder. 
“Do you want me to get Morgan?” you ask, unsure. 
It's a busy office, and you and Spencer sit on the outskirts closest to the offices upstairs and furthest from the hubbub. Nobody notices your closeness. You speak too quietly to be overheard. 
“Spencer,” you implore. 
He ducks his head, putting his hand to his brow. 
“I'm okay,” he says, his voice stronger now, “it's just my mom doesn't sound right in her letters lately, and I'm tired, and I wasn't expecting you to ask me.” 
“No?” you ask, giving his arm another tender rub. “Sorry if I'm upsetting you, Spencer. I was worried. You don't have to talk about it.” He winces. “But if you do want to, I'm right here.” 
He needs a hug, you decide (unsurely). You stand and he immediately lifts his head with worry in his eyes, but you're not going anywhere, the opposite. You cover up his head and shoulders as your chin rests gently atop his soft hair, a gravel to your tone as you say, “It's okay.” 
Spencer is silent. Slowly, tentatively, he wraps his arms around you in turn, and then he's squeezing you tight enough to feel it in your spine. 
“It's okay, Spencer. We can talk about it, huh? We can work something out. It wouldn't be terrible for you to take a vacation every once in a while, maybe that's what you need.”  
He breathes out against your sleeve. “Sorry,” he says. 
“It's okay.” You kiss his head. He likely doesn't feel it. “I promise, it's fine.” 
“I wasn’t expecting you to ask.” 
“I know, you said that already.” You don’t tell him with any malice, just reaffirmation. “But I’ll always ask. I care about you, I need you to be okay, Dr. Reid. You’re my pillar of strength.” He laughs with self-deprecation, but you mean it. “You are. You’re always there for me. You’re always looking after me.”
“Since when do you need looking after?” 
“That’s one of the best and worst things about you. You don’t realise what you are to people.” 
Spencer screws his hands into your blouse and grows still in your arms. You consider scolding him about wrinkles to lighten the mood, but he’ll take you too seriously, and stop hugging you, and that’s not what you want. You try to be subtle about the comfort you’re giving him as you wrap your arms behind his head to close him in, hiding him from any prying eyes, but the longer you stay holding him the more attention you recieve, until even your stoic unit chief can't pretend this is appropriate for the workplace. 
“L/N,” Hotch says in concern. “Reid. Is everything okay?” 
Spencer seizes up and tries to push you away.
You lift your chin above his head and give Hotch your stickiest smile, arms moving to a more amicable position behind his shoulders. “No, everything is not okay, Hotch. You realise I only joined the unit to be with Spencer, right? And you punish me by sitting me halfway across the office!” 
Everyone watching either laughs or rolls their eyes, used to your dramatic favouritism. Even Hotch seems tired of it. 
“I’d be sorry if I thought that were true. Can you go back to suffocating Reid on your own time? We have some consults to look over.” 
You widen the gap between you and Spencer, allowing him the space to collect himself. “If you insist,” you say, grinning brightly. 
You stand in front of Spencer, heart aching as he sniffs quietly. He stands, and for a moment you think he won’t be alright after all, that your comfort was useless and he’ll need to excuse himself, but he draws a ghost of a line into your side with his knuckle and squares his expression. “Let’s get back to work,” he says to you with a small smile. You’ll talk more later. 
“Wanna hold hands?” you ask. 
“Maybe when everyone’s stopped looking at me?” he says under his breath, starting toward the steps to the conference room. 
“Wait, really?”
He hurries up the stairs. You follow.
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flowersandbigteeth · 3 months
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Orc boyfriend with what he thinks is a tiny, smol mate who's so smol, so delicate, so sweet... They're actually pretty firmly built for a human, while a bit short, along with being stubborn and sassy and ready to bite heads off for their adorable XL size boyfriend.
I've got so many orc stories going right now, but you know I'm not mad about it ^_^ I love Orcs <3 There are so many different ways to write them. I have another couple of Orc asks I'm working on, as well 🥵
Orc (Cedar) x thick f reader
Word Count: 5K
Tw: sfw orc fluff, some brief descriptions of battle, brief mention of sa, size difference
More monster fluff here
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“Put the stick down, sugar. We’re not going to hurt you.” 
You scoffed at the soldiers circling you, their eyes dark with lust. 
“We just want to have some fun,” another said, his eyes drifting over your shapely hips. “Don’t you owe us a debt of gratitude for rescuing you?”  
You squeezed the iron fire poker that you had gripped in your hand. 
“Rescuing me? You didn’t get your rocks off burning down the damn village?” 
“It was a strategic maneuver,” the leader of the armored men said with an oily smile. “We are here to liberate you.” 
“By assaulting me?” you snapped. 
There was not a doubt in your mind that the second you lowered your weapon, they were going to drag you into some dark corner and act out all of the sick thoughts they had echoed on their faces. 
Your King’s soldiers weren’t good guys. When they heard there was an Orc camp nearby, they couldn’t be bothered to attack it directly. Instead, they burned down your village. They said it was to prevent them from resupplying. 
It was true you did business with the Orcs, who were technically your enemy, but they never acted like enemies. While big and quite scary-looking, they paid in gold and were always polite to the women running the shops. You never felt the least bit unsafe alone with one, and occasionally, they’d help you out with things that needed done– fixing roofs and cartwheels. The men of the town had all been conscripted for the war, so it mostly the ladies keeping the village afloat. The soldiers had made a whole lot of children and the elderly homeless. 
“Come on, sweetie, this game is getting tiresome.” 
One of the soldiers dared to approach you, and you didn’t hesitate a second, swinging your poker and smacking him so hard in the head that his helmet crunched. He collapsed on the broken boards that had once been the floor of your little noodle shop. 
“Now that’s a crime!” the leader barked.
He waved to his accomplices. 
“Get in there and restrain her!” Their eyes fell on the collapsed soldier, and they looked between one another, trying to sort out who was next to get a whomping. 
You flexed your wrist, preparing to swing at whoever came at you next, when you heard the heavy steps of an Orc approaching. The soldiers were too inexperienced to know what that sound meant. You’d heard them approach every day at dinner time for several months. It wasn’t until he was shouldering his way through what was left of your door that they took notice. 
“The enemy approaches! Your swords!” 
The Orc you knew as Ash, wrinkled his brow and let out a lilting call to gather his brethren. The ground rumbled as more heavy feet ran towards you. 
Wood splintered, and what remained of the ceiling creaked as they tore the walls away, making more room for a fight. 
Faced with five nine-foot Orc barbarians armed with axes almost as big as their bodies, the soldiers tried to run for it. You screamed as they threatened to trample you, trying to force their way through the back wall, but they never reached you. 
The Orcs didn’t need to draw their weapons, grabbing every soldier and smacking them against the ground until they stopped moving—a gruesome way to die, but practical. 
When the danger was crumpled into a wet gnarl of bones and metal, their eyes turned to you. Ash said something to his friends in their own language before he stomped across the room and plucked you up like a kitten, cradling you in his arm. 
“Hey, What do you think you’re doing?!” 
“Quiet, little one. You’ll give us away.” 
You puckered your lips at him, annoyed, as if the stomping of five tons of muscle was quiet. When you tried to wave your poker at him, he plucked it out of your hand but didn’t drop it, tucking it instead in his belt. He said something else to his friends before turning to split away from them. 
You had no reason to panic. The Orcs had never harmed you, but being taken away from the group put frightening thoughts in your head, and you instinctively started screaming. 
The Orc sighed, sounding tired, when four more soldiers came skidding around a corner, swords in hand. You looked up at him apologetically, smacking your hand over your mouth to stay the scream that didn’t want to stop. 
He set you on the roof of what was left of a building and pat you on the head, a gesture that you read as “stay” before pulling out his axe. You weren’t going anywhere, even if you wanted to. The drop was fifteen feet down, and the stairs were just charcoal at the base of the building. 
“Attack!” the leader of the soldiers shouted, but their moves in their heavy metal armor were slow. Ash swung his arm in a sweeping stroke that sliced four of them in half where they stood. The other one, eyes wide with horror, turned tail and ran. 
Replacing his axe, he picked you up again and headed into the woods. This time, you had enough sense to keep quiet. 
You’d never been to the Orc camp before, but you heard it before you saw it. The brassy sound of a grinder and hammers on metal rang through the trees, blended with the shouts of the Orcs in their language.  There were lots of huge tents and fires spotted here and there. The camp was buzzing with activity. Orcs ran around shouting at one another, some gathering weapons, some sending groups in the direction you came. You recognized many of them as some of your customers. They often came in groups and hauled away vats of the noodle stew you sold. 
A few Orcs waved at Ash but didn’t pay you much mind as he carried you to the nicest-looking tent. It had a banner outside of it with a gold bear embroidered into the fabric. Ash set you on the ground at the door and handed you your poker before patting you on the back, indicating you should go in. 
“What’s in there?” you asked. 
He said something in Orcish that you didn’t understand and walked away. There were too many other giants around to attempt an escape, so you pulled aside the fur covering the door and peeked inside. 
“Hello?” 
Your question was returned with a deep voice, smooth as a glassy pond. 
“Enter, little one.” 
Taking a few steps inside, you were faced with what you could only describe as the most handsome Orc you’d ever seen. His skin was a deep olive, and his hair fell over his shoulder in a long, dark sheet with small braids here and there. His tusks were large, but they seemed only to highlight how well his lips were formed. His features were harsh and defined but not unattractive, with a straight nose and deep-set gold eyes. The only thing you could point out as a flaw was a dark scar from his forehead to the right corner of his jaw. 
You assumed the Orcs were blunt tools, sprinting into battle with no real plan, but this one was sitting at a high table examining maps with a book in his hand. 
“I’m…I’m not sure why I’m here,” you said, brandishing your poker, though you didn’t feel like you were in any particular danger. 
“I asked Ash to fetch you,” he said without looking up. “You’re the noodle shop woman.” 
“My name is (Y/N), not “noodle shop woman,” and I don’t have a shop anymore. The soldiers burned it.” 
He put his book down and turned his gold eyes to you. 
“That’s why you’re here.” 
“I don’t understand.” 
His eyes drifted over you before they settled on the poker you were still holding up. 
“You were feeding most of the camp. If there’s no shop to visit, you can make noodles here.” 
You blinked up at him. 
“Oh…Am I your prisoner?” 
He chuckled. 
“If you’d like to go back to your people, I won’t stop you, but judging how they burned down your village without hesitation, I think you’re safer with us.” 
You had to admit that made some sense, but you still weren’t buying it. 
“I can’t stay here with you!” 
He tipped his head, the corner of his lip twitching up slightly. 
“Why is that, little one?” 
You narrowed your eyes at him. 
“First of all, I’m NOT little, and second, an Orc camp is no place for a lady.” 
A shudder that had nothing to do with fear shot down your spine as his eyes moved over your body. He crossed the room, scooping you up, and setting you on his table. Your feet dangled far from the ground. 
“What- What are you doing?” you snapped, waving your weapon at him. 
“My neck was hurting from looking down at you. You’re very short.”
The sparkle in his eyes told you he was teasing you, which drew heat to your cheeks. 
“Maybe compared to you. You’re unnecessarily large. What are you doing with all of that muscle? Are you going to arm wrestle your books?” you pouted, eyes drifting to the massive bicep peeking out of the fur vest he wore. 
He laughed out loud, gracing you with a wide smile. 
“You’ll fit right in here.” 
You raised your nose at him, trying to look unconvinced. 
“Where will I even sleep? All of your tents are big and drafty.” 
“Since you’ve declared your intention to court me, I wouldn’t mind if you slept here.” 
“Declared my intention to— Where did you get that idea?” 
He flicked a fingertip at your poker. 
“In the old days, Orc females came to their males' tent and threatened them into submission with their favorite weapon.” 
Your cheeks burned like hot irons, and you almost dropped it. 
“Well…I’m not trying to court you. It’s for protection.” 
He snorted at you but nodded his head. 
“If you say so, little one, but it will be much warmer in my tent if it’s drafts you’re worried about.” 
“I don’t even know your name. Ash called you something in your language. I didn’t understand…” 
He examined one of the feet you had dangling over the edge of his table. Compared to his big hand, it was tiny. 
“Cautalin, it means something close to general in your language, but you can call me Cedar. That’s what my mother named me.” 
Your eyes traveled over his barrel chest and thick arms. 
“Seems about right,” you said, finally setting your poker down. 
He picked it up, looked it over, and tested the weight in his hand. 
“Not a bad choice,” he said. “Light but effective.” 
You glanced up at him through your eyelashes, feeling cheeky. 
“Do you feel like submitting?” 
You watched a flicker of heat ignite in his eyes, and he slowly set it down. 
“Come on, let's get you to bed, killer.” 
He picked you up again, walking you over to a large pallet covered in furs. 
“This is your bed.” 
He gave you another smile. 
“We’re in the middle of a battle; I won't be sleeping tonight. It's all yours.” 
Though you weren't quite sure about sleeping in his bed, weariness overtook you at the sight of the comfortable, cozy furs, and you crawled in, wrapping yourself up to your chin in blankets. 
He put your poker next to you and blew out the candle, slipping out the front flap as you dozed. 
— 
You woke to yelling, but not the sound of battle. Crawling out of your furs, you picked up your poker and peeled out of the flap Cedar used as a door. Another Orc you didn't recognize was the one yelling, and Cedar had his arms crossed, looking bored. 
Your eyes drifted to about twenty women, elderly, and children, cowering in the chilly morning air, their faces streaked with soot from the fire.
“They’re our enemies!” the strange Orc barked. 
“Really, Asvoth? Are you really afraid of a handful of children and their mothers?” 
“This is a war camp, not a nursery.” 
“It's my camp, not yours. They stay.” 
“I outrank you. I can take your command.” 
Cedar snorted. 
“Yet the King hasn't trusted you with a unit of your own. You're nothing more than an errand boy with a fancy title. Any of these children could take your job.” 
Asvoth’s face turned a deep forest green from both embarrassment and indignation. He yanked the sword he wore on his back to his hand. Without thinking, you hopped in front of Cedar, waving your poker at the intruder. You had no idea why, a fact you only considered after you’d already put yourself in harm's way. Still, you'd made your move so the only thing to do was follow through. 
“You heard Cedar! We’re not leaving! Get on if you know what's good for you!” 
Asvoth sprung forward, dropping his sword toward your head. Your eyes squeezed shut, preparing for pain, but there was only the clang of metal. Opening one eye, you glanced up to see Cedar’s axe blocking the other Orc’s blow. 
There was a moment when you thought Asvoth might overtake him, but Cedar’s muscles weren't all for show. He shoved the other Orc back, and he toppled over, landing on his butt in the dirt. His sword landed in front of the children with a CLANG. 
“Woah!”  the little ones cheered, circling around it like it was a strange animal. 
A few of them tried to pick it up, but it was far too heavy, making their eyes pop even wider.
Cedar nodded at him, and a pair of Orcs from the camp dragged Asvoth up by the collar of his tunic, pushing him towards the forest.  
“I'm reporting this!” He shouted over his shoulder as he stumbled towards the woods. 
Cedar waved a hand at one of his Orcs, beckoning him closer. 
“You and Orin follow him and make sure the King gets our side of the story, not his.”  
When the situation seemed settled, Cedar looked down at you and patted your head. 
“Thank you for your protection, little suitor,” he said with a smirk. 
Your cheeks blew up in flames, but you puffed your chest and looked at the children watching Ash pick up the abandoned sword. They hopped around him like little bunnies, begging him to teach them to use it. 
“I have no idea what you mean! I’m here to make noodles! Point me in the direction of my kitchen! These little mouths are probably hungry.” 
He chuckled, but guided you with a large hand on your back to a large tent filled with whatever food supplies they had rescued from the village. You wrinkled your nose at the primitive workspace, but there were enough flour and eggs to work with. You were surprised to find someone had stuck in a lower table, perfect for your height. After washing your hands in a water basin, you got to cooking. 
“What are you still doing here?” you asked Cedar, who had plopped down in a chair and was reading a book. 
He smiled. 
“Reading.” 
You blinked at him, putting your floury fists on your hips. “Are you surveilling me? I’m not going to poison you all! I have to eat this too, you know.” 
He tipped his head to the side, his gold eyes sparkling in the makeshift hearth. 
“The sound of cooking is soothing. I liked to study in the kitchen while my mother cooked when I was a boy.” 
You looked him up and down. 
“I can’t imagine you as a child.” 
You thought for a second, tapping your chin. 
“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen an Orc child, actually.” 
He looked back down at his book, shifting in his seat to get comfortable. 
“You will,” he said as he flipped a page. 
Your brow wrinkled at that nebulous statement, but you knew everyone was hungry after the long night, so you got back to work. 
By midmorning, you had a stewpot big enough to feed an army filled with noodles, vegetables, and what little bit of venison the Orcs had been able to hunt between the battle. 
“All done,” you said, clapping your hands and creating a puff of flour in the air. 
Cedar got up and shouted something to his men, and two Orcs appeared to carry the big vat into the central circle so it could be served. You felt a sense of satisfaction when all the bowls were passed out and the children, tired humans, and bloodied Orcs were eating. The mothers spoke quietly between one another, while the children could hardly sit still, their big eyes following the Orcs every movement. 
“Here.” 
You looked up to find Cedar holding a bowl out to you. A grumbling stomach had you accepting it, and he patted the seat next to him for you to sit down. The two of you ate quietly for a moment before you asked him a question. 
“What are you going to do with all of us?” 
“Hmm?” he asked. 
“Well, I mean when the battle is over. We have nowhere to go. Our town is destroyed.” 
He looked at the children who, after scarfing down their bowls, were engaged in some game with Ash. 
“I was hoping you would all return to our capitol city with us. That’s where we live when we’re not fighting.”
Your eyebrows jumped. 
“To the Orc city? We’re humans. Don’t your people hate us?” 
He shrugged. 
“There are some weak minds who reveal their own fragility with their hate, but the rest of us like your kind. This whole war started because we wished to create allies amongst the humans.” 
“What? The soldiers said you attacked!” 
He chuckled. 
“Your king has a very effective propaganda engine. That’s probably the only thing about him that is effective. We sent a delegation party to him to discuss our interest in mingling with you humans. You all are prolific; despite your size, you’re a sturdy bunch. We thought marriages would bolster our numbers and strengthen your stock. Your King attacked, and we were forced to defend ourselves. The force that attacked us was decimated, and he declared war.” 
“You mean…you wish to mate with us?” 
His eyes slid down to you, and he gave you a sharp nod. 
“Is that so surprising?” 
You thought about it for a moment. 
“I don’t know…Maybe a little. You’re so strong. You’re not afraid we’ll diminish you?” 
His thick hand cupped your chin and rubbed some flour away with his thumb. Your heart raced at his touch. 
“Size is not what makes us strong. Our strength lies in our unbreakable bonds. Your King will be defeated, not because his forces are less than ours, but because he orders his men to betray his own people.” 
He nodded towards the children, who were playing chicken fight on Ash and another Orc’s shoulders. 
“They will remember it was men who burned down their village, stole their fathers from them, assaulted their mothers and Orcs who took them in, fed them, and helped them smile again. 
“I suppose you’re right,” you agreed. 
His smile widened. 
“I will remember you took up arms to protect me against an enemy twice your size. You belong among the us.” 
Suddenly the wool dress you wore was much too hot. 
“I should go wash these before the next meal,” you squeaked, grabbing his empty bowl and scurrying away.
Once safe in the kitchen tent, you pressed your hand against your chest, trying to still your heart. Why did Cedar make you feel so fluttery? You’d never felt this way around anyone before. You usually kept to yourself and steered clear of romance. It had to be the battle, you decided. You were still hyped up from the night before. In a day or so, you were sure it would pass. 
Dunking empty bowls in ice-cold river water helped cool your thoughts as you tried to focus on what to make for dinner. The Orcs stocks were pretty hefty, but they and the children ate a lot. You’d noticed many of the parents tipping some of their bowls into their little one’s, making sure they were fed properly in case the next meal didn’t come. 
It saddened you it had to be this way. What horrible person decides to burn down their own citizens' village? Who was the King even protecting you from? Not the Orcs, that’s for sure. 
A loud rabble outside dragged your attention away from the dishes, and you picked up your poker before peeking your head outside. 
A few Orc scouts were speaking in rapid Orcish to Cedar. When they paused, his eyes immediately looked around for the children and frowned before he spoke to you all. 
“The human King has sent reinforcements. They will close on our camp by nightfall.” 
The mothers all gathered their children to their skirts, looking weary. 
“Women and children to the kitchen tent! We will keep you safe, but you must stay hidden!” 
You made way as a small stampede of humans rushed past you, many pushing their children to hide under the table. 
“What’s happening?” You asked Cedar as people and Orcs rushed around. 
He scrubbed his hand over his jaw, looking disturbed. 
“Someone ran back to your King with a story that we’d kidnapped you, not taken you in from starving in a burnt-down village. We will win this fight, but then we will have to make the journey back to the capitol. They will keep attacking if they think you’re within their grasp. Do you think you can explain this to your people? We don’t intend to take anyone by force, but I wouldn’t trust the King’s soldiers.”
“Yes, of course. Whatever you need.”
You hurried back to the kitchen, where the humans were muttering to one another. 
“Should we flee to the forest?” Isla, the former town candlemaker, asked. “Can we depend on the Orcs to protect us?” 
Another woman scoffed. 
“We can’t trust anyone. These Orcs are kind now, but they’ll sell us out at the drop of a hat.” 
Linda, a quiet woman who worked as a weaver, whimpered. 
“But we’ll starve in the forest alone. Word is the King’s men have raized every town for fifty miles!” 
You inserted yourself into the conversation, holding up your hands. 
“No one needs to escape to the woods. The Orcs are going to take us back to their capitol to keep us safe.” 
Linda squeaked in horror. 
“The Orc capitol?! Where they can enslave us?!” 
“They have no plan to enslave you. Don’t you want your children to be safe? We will be safe behind their walls!” 
“Or…when the King takes the city we’ll all be hung as traitors!” 
“Shawna, don’t put that in her head. Linda, we’ll be fine. I trust Cedar.” 
You paused on that thought, realizing not only was it true, it didn’t make any sense. You’d only just met him. Your conversation was interrupted by the shouting of men outside. 
“We’ll talk about this later,” you hissed, “Here, take this.” 
You armed the humans with whatever haphazard weapons you could find, mostly butcher knives and skillets. 
Outside, you could hear the clang of weapons and the squelching sounds of metal piercing flesh. 
“What's happening?” Linda asked, trying to get around you so she could peek out of the tent flap. 
“Stay back!” You barked. “If they see us, we’re in trouble!” 
You could tell she was losing it, hopping from one foot to another, her hands getting slippery on her knife. 
“No, no, no,” she whimpered. “I don’t want to go with the Orcs. Even a human monster is better than them!” 
Before you could grab her, she skipped through the doorway, running wildly into the fray. The other humans gathered around you, their opinions spilling out like loose marbles. 
“What is she thinking?!” 
“Linda, come back!” 
“Let her go, she’s nuts.” 
You clenched your jaw, squeezing your iron poker. 
“She’s scared. I’ll go get her…you all stay put!” 
Before anyone could stop you, you darted after her, trying to catch sight of her red skirt through the mess of armour-clad humans and massive Orcs. The King had sent a much larger force than the one that had burned down your village. The battle around you was brutal. You almost slipped on a puddle of blood, your eyes frantically searching for Linda. 
You found her pointing her knife with shaking hands at a human soldier. 
“What are you doing? I’m a human, too!” 
“The King ordered you all dead!” he snarled, raising his sword at her. “No witnesses! Come on, do your duty to the kingdom, and die quietly!” 
Panicking, you launched yourself at him, whacking him with your poker as you barreled into him. The two of you went down, metal clashing as you fell and dropped your weapons. Both of you scrabbled for purchase in the blood-soaked earth. You could hear Linda screeching beside you as you tried to overpower the soldier. His armor, now slick with mud, made it impossible to get a hold of him, and he triumphantly dragged himself to his sword, clumsily grabbing it by the blade and flinging it in your direction. You saw the metal flash in the firelight before pain exploded between your eyes, and your vision went black. 
“Please tell me she’s not dead,” you heard Linda’s voice from far away. 
Isla scoffed. 
“You’d better hope she’s not, Linda. This is all your fault!” 
“I'm sorry!” she simpered, “I made a mistake! I thought the soldiers were here to free us!” 
“Free us from what? A good meal and a safe place to sleep?”
You dragged your eyelids open, vision blurry for a moment before it cleared. 
“What…what happened?” you murmured. 
“She’s awake!” Isla gasped. 
You felt her cool hands against your cheek. 
“Take it slow, here; have some water.” 
She pushed a tin cup into your hands, and you wet your palette with a few sips. Looking around, you were surrounded by the humans, all looking very concerned. 
“Is everyone okay?” you asked. 
Isla smirked, and the other women tittered a bit. 
“Thanks to you, I suppose. That chieftain or warlord or whatever saw you get knocked in the head and went berzerk. He killed most of the soldiers all by himself.” 
Another woman poked her head out of the tent. 
“She’s okay! You guys can untie him!” 
“Untie who? Is the battle over?” 
Isla nodded.
“Yeah, all the soldiers are dead. We’ve all been waiting for you to wake up so we can move the camp before the King sends anymore. Can you believe he ordered them to kill us? I guess so he could claim the Orcs did it and get more support for the war.”
She smirked at you. 
“And as for who's tied up, your Orc friend thought you were dead. The others had to tie him up so he wouldn’t go on a rampage. He was ready to storm the King’s stronghold! You ought to see the ropes they had to use…thick as your waist!” 
You heard the roll of stomping feet, and Cedar burst through the tent flap. His hair was wild, and his tunic was red with blood. He fell to his knees in front of you, holding his hands as if he couldn’t decide if you were safe to touch. 
“Are you okay?” he asked, carefully prodding the bandage you had wrapped around your head. “That monster didn’t do any permanent damage, did he?” 
“She’ll have a scar,” Isla said, “but I think she’s fine.” 
Cedar’s face lightened, pulling you towards him, his big arms wrapping around you. 
“Thank the goddess,” he sighed with a heavy breath. “I thought they’d taken you from me.” 
He cupped your cheeks between his palms when he finally let you go. 
“You are so stupidly brave, little one,” he gasped, eyes wet. “You have more honor than your people deserve.” 
Behind him, Isla waved the women out of the tent, leaving the two of you alone. Not used to so much intimate attention, your cheeks warmed, and you weren’t sure where to look. 
“I just didn’t want Linda to get hurt,” you muttered. 
He gave you an odd smile, scooping you out of the cot you’d woken up in. 
“Once I get you to our home in the capitol, I’m going to have to keep you locked up for your own safety,” he said, patting your head. 
You looked up at him from where you were tucked, leaning on his bicep. 
“Our home?” 
He grinned at you, counting on his fingers. 
“First step to Orc courting: Threaten your desired with your weapon. Done. Step two: Allure them with your cooking skills, cooking or hunting something delicious. Done. And the final step: Display your honor through a grand act of bravery. Done! You’ve effectively and thoroughly seduced me, little one! All that’s left is to take you home!” 
He tipped your chin up with one thick finger and dipped his head to press his lips against yours. Your whole body felt like it was made of butterflies, every nerve flickering with excitement. Despite being covered in blood and mud, his kiss tasted like honey and sage. It felt like a warm cup of tea on a chilly morning. Your eyelashes fluttered shut and you sank into his warmth, despite yourself, happy to be alive and in his arms.
“Oh!” you gasped as he straightened his neck.
Your mouth fell open, unsure what to say. Before you could think of anything, Cedar carried you out of the tent, shouting orders at his men to pack up the camp so you could leave for the capitol.
2K notes · View notes
ryukatters · 7 months
Text
swipe right — k. bakugo x fem! reader
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✮ a/n: i remember seeing a post on here a long time ago about a character making a fake tinder profile for their gf and realizing how many people want her. (if someone knows the OG post please lmk so i can link it!) so now i present to you: bakugo falling to his knees in the middle of your apartment bedroom for the exact same reason.
✮ content/warnings: dubcon, quirkless/college! au, jealousy, possessiveness, breeding, creampie, unprotected sex, cum eating, cunnilingus, overstimulation, praise, biting, bkg gets a little rough with you, and bkg's also a fucking simp but when do I ever write him as being otherwise??
✮ summary: your boyfriend decides to make a fake tinder profile for you just to see how many matches you get. he comes to a realization just how many other people want what’s already his.
✮ word count: 4.2k (i'm so sick)
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Bakugo can remember how this all started. In very vivid detail, actually. He remembers because Kaminari had pissed him off so much to the extent that it took him a very substantial amount of effort to refrain from bashing his friend’s face in.
It all started during the last monthly hangout amongst Bakugo and his friends— one day out of the month designated to make sure that they all had time to catch up with one another despite their busy schedules.
Everything was normal, with all of them getting more than enough of their fill of food and alcohol while idly playing video games and talking about random topics to fill in the silence in Kaminari’s living room. 
Perfectly normal, until Denki decided to open his stupid mouth, at least. 
He goes off on a tangent about a trend he saw on social media where someone makes a fake Tinder profile for their partner to see how many matches they’d get. He proceeds to tell Bakugo that he should try doing it, for “funsies,”— to which Bakugo scoffs at. 
“Aren’t you curious, Kacchan?” Kaminari smiles cheekily, wrapping an arm around his blond friend’s shoulders, seemingly oblivious to the fact that Bakugo’s becoming visibly more upset with every passing moment. 
“Your girlfriend is really pretty,” Mina chimes in, sticking her tongue out when Katsuki whips his head to glare at her. “I’m still surprised she’s with a grump like you.” 
Kaminari butts in, “I bet there’s a whole line of guys around the block just waiting for a chance to get with her. I mean, just look at her! Hell, I’d even let her peg m—”
For a moment, Bakugo swears he wants to bash Kaminari’s face into his flatscreen. And for a moment, he lets that impulsive thought win— getting up and grabbing two fistfuls of Denki’s shirt before promptly getting cut off by Kirishima.
“Alright alright,” Kirishima forcibly pries Bakugo off of the other blond, pushing him off to the side. “That’s enough, you two. Kaminari was just messing around. I’ll admit, it wasn’t a good joke, but no need to hurt the guy, okay Bakugo?” 
Kirishima knows that Kaminari wasn’t being that serious, but Kirishima can also admit that what he had to say held some ounce of truth. And Kirishima knows Bakugo well enough to see how your boyfriend tends to be rather skittish and protective with matters concerning you— which is exactly why Eijiro had to stop him before it was too late. He really didn’t feel like preparing for Denki’s funeral or helping hide Katsuki escape from a homicide charge.
And that was that…up until a few minutes ago.
Katsuki’s tried to forget that conversation. But try as he might, his mind betrays him and can’t help but wander back to what Denki said that night.
He trusts you of course, and has complete faith in your relationship. However, he’s curious to a fault, just about perhaps too curious for his own good. 
How badly could this end?
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As it turns out, this whole scheme seems to be playing out very poorly. 
Dozens of photos of you— screenshotted from your social media accounts— fill Katsuki’s screen. He had to choose photos you uploaded yourself, because most of his photos of you were either too…suggestive or too domestic (and he wants to be the only one to see you in those moments).
He swipes through “your” profile one last time before clicking “done” to officially put you on the market. And just like that, Bakugo’s met with the faces of men who are nowhere near your level. He goes through the batch of profiles, scrutinizing each one he comes across. He’s (un)surprisingly selective with the ones he chooses to swipe right on— making sure that they’re at least somewhat conventionally attractive. To his surprise (or dread, rather), his phone pings right away with a notification from someone who swiped back. Another ping. A message. 
You free tonight? 
Bakugo scoffs. He looks through the guy’s profile— a picture of him at a party with his arms around some girls, another with him doing a victory pose presumably after hiking, and one with him holding a fish. He feels his mouth curl in disgust, about to give into the urge to reply and give this guy a piece of his mind, before he realizes he’s pretending to be you. He takes a deep breath, closes out of the app, and puts down his phone. 
He’s starting to regret this.
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Bakugo’s phone has gone off 15 times in the last hour. Bakugo has also felt the need to strangle some stranger through the phone 15 times in the last hour. Your (read: his) profile has existed for less than 60 minutes, and you already have a whole address book of nobodies trying to link with you and get a quick fuck. 
He feels the familiar beginnings of a headache creeping up the back of his skull. He thinks he might need a drink. Why did he decide to do this again?
In hindsight, he probably should have known this is exactly how it was going to go down. 
What was that saying? Curiosity killed the cat?
Yeah.
He was never great at self-preservation in the first place. So this, the feeling of overwhelming jealousy, frustration, possessiveness brewing up a storm threatening to pour out of every single fiber of Bakugo’s being— was no surprise.
He watches as the numbers at the bottom of his screen increase steadily, before tapping on the star icon. 
‘99+ likes!’ it reads. Over 99 people who saw your profile and thought you were beautiful. Bakugo pales, and he can feel the cold sweat building on the nape of his neck. He grips his phone, knuckles turning white. Is he shaking from anger or nervousness?
Anger because all these guys think they even have the slightest chance with someone as amazing as you. Nervousness because what if you decide that they do? You wouldn’t actually leave him for one of these guys, right? Right?
None of these men would walk through hell and back for you. They don’t know how you like your coffee, the details of your skin care routine, how you like to binge watch shows and talk Katsuki’s ear off about them (not that he ever minded, of course). They don’t know you, not like he does. Katsuki looks at you like you hung the moon. In fact, he’s pretty convinced that you did. Everything good in his life— the warmth, the color, the joy,— is encompassed by you. He’d be damned if he lets some greasy little nobody take that from him. Because the moment Bakugo fell in love with you, you became a part of him— inextricably and indefinitely. Loving you has become so intrinsic to him, that even the mere thought of another person loving you or looking at you the same way he does has him going insane. Not that anyone could love you like he did, though. That thought brings him some comfort, but not for long. 
One last notification he sees sends him spiraling. Bakugo swears that he can see red. That’s when he deletes the app, and throws his poor phone in some random corner of the living room, which is markedly one of the smarter choices he’s made as of late. He marches to your bedroom with a fire burning in his chest. 
He stops short of the door and finds you sitting at the edge of your shared bed, fresh out of the shower. You’re applying lotion, and he watches the cream absorb into your skin wordlessly, in awe at how overwhelmingly beautiful you manage to look in the most prosaic of tasks. For a second, he almost forgets the reason he was upset in the first place.  
Your hair is still damp, water droplets accumulating at the tips, and Katsuki feels his mouth run dry the minute he watches a stray bead fall and make its way down your neck and stop perfectly in the dip of your collarbone. Your very existence is forever etched into his heart, every inch of you carved into his memory, but even still he can never get tired of looking at you. At every angle, in every lighting, he needs to see you in it. You could call him obsessed, but he’d simply laugh and agree, because what’s so wrong with that? Especially if it’s you. 
You’re one to be studied— to be adored, Katsuki thinks, to the greatest capacity. It’s what you deserve. And what better person for that task to fall upon than him?
He finds himself naturally gravitating towards you, his finger tracing the same exact path the water had carved just moments before, wordlessly. You try to pay no mind, but it’s difficult as you realize just how close Bakugo was and how your towel barely manages to cover up your most intimate parts. One wrong move and you’d be exposed. With how things were playing out, and the predatory glint in the blond’s eyes, you don’t think your boyfriend would be too perturbed with your current predicament. 
Katsuki presses a delicate kiss to your forehead before he crouches down. Suddenly, you’re at eye level with one another, his hot breath tickling your lips. You think for a moment he’s going to kiss you so you lean forward, lips waiting. But he merely grazes them before he sucks a deep bruise into the juncture of your neck, biting slightly. 
You’re barely given any time to react before he’s grabbing the hand that’s securing your towel and ripping it away, the offending garment falling off your body. Your flesh prickles with goosebumps as its exposed to the sudden chill.  It’s quickly replaced by the heat of Bakugo’s body as he pushes you lightly, your back hitting the mattress. He crawls on top of you, muscular thighs on either side of your hips, your head placed conveniently between his forearms. He’s trapped you, a nonverbal challenge for you to try and escape. 
You’re a work of art, he thinks, but much more valuable than any pièce de résistance framed in any museum. 
Beautiful, yes, but far too blank for his liking. He wants to ruin you, make you his own personal magnum opus. And so he does. 
He presses a clothed knee against your bare cunt, pressing firmly. His lips continue their assault on your neck, leaving angry purpling bruises in their wake. Rough hands find your breast, and you moan in surprise when he gives both of them a harsh squeeze as he shoves his tongue into your mouth. Katsuki kisses you like a man dying of thirst, hungry for everything you can offer him and more. It’s all too much already, the way he’s kissing you has your mind reeling, and you have to turn your head away for a moment to catch your breath. Katsuki thinks it’s a moment too long without you, so he coaxes you into locking lips with him once more. A wave of mischievousness washes over you, prompting you to take your boyfriend’s lower lip in between your teeth, biting down lightly. 
You feel his breath hitch, before he lets out a low groan as he grinds his clothed dick against your bare wetness. He returns the favor, sucking on your bottom lip before letting it go with a wet pop. He pulls back with a lazy smirk, his lips pursing together to scatter messy kisses down the base of your throat and down your chest, alternating between sucking and biting at the flesh. 
He gives you a good once-over, scanning every surface, committing them to memory. You feel the need to curl into yourself with how intensely those vermillion eyes are piercing into you, memorizing every single curve, scar, freckle like he’s done time and time again. 
He drops down to his knees, broad shoulders bullying their way in between your legs, forcibly prying them open. He grips your hips, fingertips digging into the soft flesh, and drags you down the mattress until your legs are dangling off the bed.
“Jesus, Kats, be more gentle.”
“Shhh. I know you like it when I’m not gentle,” he chuckles. As if to prove a point, he pulls you down even further, giving a harsh bite to your inner thigh. He smiles deviously when you yelp. You try to pull at his hair but his reflexes are too quick, pinning both of your wrists down on either side of you easily. “Besides, this is the perfect height for me to eat you out, dontcha think baby?” 
You want to chastise him for being so crass, so Katsuki, but the words die on the tip of your tongue the minute he gives a sweet, loving kiss to your clit, sucking lightly. 
“You’re mine. I don’t want anyone else seeing you like this except for me.” 
You’re not entirely sure what brought this on, but you find it hard to complain when Bakugo drags his tongue from your throbbing clit to inside your pussy, drinking everything you have to offer. 
Your hands automatically try to find purchase in his blond locks, struggling against the vice grip Katsuki has on your wrists. He decides to take pity on you, loosening his hold so you can slip your hands into his hair, moaning appreciatively when he feels you tug. He rewards you by flicking his tongue on your clit over and over again, just the way you like it. He does it until your moans begin to pitch higher and higher, the same way that they do when you’re close. He doesn’t stop his ministrations even after you cum, riding out your orgasm until your thighs are shaking from overstimulation. He pulls away from you with a loud pop, taking in the sight before him. 
He runs a hand up and down your thigh soothingly. “So fucked out already and we’re barely getting started, baby.”
Your mind is barely processing his words before you feel Katsuki’s erection brush against your stomach, his clothing haphazardly discarded on the floor. He taps the head of his dick against your clit to tease you, a feeling of satisfaction swelling when you cry out from under him.  
He watches in fascination as strings of your arousal cling to him. He positions his length at your entrance, locking eyes with you as you hold your breath in anticipation. Katsuki likes you like this. Needy for him. 
 “You’re the most beautiful girl in the world, you know that?” He slips into you with a stuttered groan. 
Katsuki’s always been big. You never get used to the initial stretch, no matter how many times you two fuck. Still, that doesn’t stop him from sliding in with ease from the slick of your last orgasm. It easily coats his cock as he gives a few experimental thrusts. He groans in rapture. How do you manage to feel so good every time? It’s enough to drive him insane. Perhaps he already is. 
“So fucking perfect, no wonder why all those losers want you.” He mutters out the last part, and you’re not sure if you caught that right. 
“What?” He chooses not to respond, and you aren’t given the opportunity to think any further before your legs are thrown over his shoulders, Katsuki’s weight effectively pinning you in place. The stretch knocks all the wind out of your lungs, and all you can do is cling to Katsuki, nails leaving red, angry lines on his well-defined back.
He wastes no time before he starts drilling into you, hips slotting in between your legs perfectly. The position has him pressed against your clit, and your entire body feels like it’s been set ablaze, with Katsuki holding both the power to have it burn even brighter and the ability to extinguish it. And you’re almost there, you can feel your soul slowly ascending, your room filled with hymns of pleasure, the coil in your stomach winding tighter and tighter, threatening to unravel along with your sanity. Katsuki can feel it too— the way you’re squeezing him tighter, how your gasps and moans have climbed just a note higher, how absolutely ruined you look, how he’s responsible for your current state. Which is exactly why he wants to push it even further, he wants to see how much you’ll break for him— and only him. 
Katsuki cuts you off right before you can reach your peak, pulling out but making sure just his tip is inserted. You come to and take a look at your lover and marvel at the sight. He has a crazed look in his eyes. The way he smirks is absolutely wicked. 
You feel distraught— having been so close but having it ripped away from you. You give your boyfriend a petulant pout.
“Katsuki,” you whine, slapping a hand against his sweaty chest, “Why’d you stop? I was so close!”
“Because I didn’t want you to cum yet,” he says simply. “You’ll be good for me, yeah? I’ll give my baby what she deserves, as long as she’s good.” 
You roll your eyes, huffing. That won’t do for him.
As much as he loves seeing you indulge, he feels a need to punish you— at least a little bit to even begin to atone for being the wicked temptress you are. 
“Don’t be a fuckin’ brat,” Bakugo growls, gripping your face with one hand, squishing your cheeks, causing your lips to purse slightly. “I said be good, okay? Wanna take my time with you.” 
There’s a moment of respite, until you sigh in defeat, knowing better than to argue with him lest you wanted to dig your own grave. “‘Kay, ‘ki.”
He flashes you a smile. Obedient, just how he likes you. “Good girl.”
Katsuki draws his hips back, thrusting just enough to fuck his tip into you. He’s teasing. The amount of willpower on his end it takes not to cum is nauseating. 
“You’re so pretty, aren’t you?” he rasps, one hand finding their way around your neck, squeezing just enough to make your head spin. Your hands reflexively grab his wrist. 
All you can manage is a fucked out moan. Katsuki has to resist the urge to coo, about how he’s managed to turn you into a cockdrunk mess in such a short matter of time. The wave of possessiveness that’s been gnawing at the depths of his soul begins to seep out, and he’s reminded of the reason why the two of you are in this position in the first place. 
He gives your throat another squeeze and a rough slap to your clit. “C’mon princess, answer me. Say it.” He slowly adds more and more pressure until your ears grow hot and air feels like a precious commodity. 
“I-i’m pretty,” you manage to gasp out, tears spilling from your lash line as you begin to lose yourself between the space of pleasure and pain. 
Good. Always so pliant for him.
“That’s right, baby,” he concedes. “So fuckin’ beautiful.” He punctuates the last word with a deep thrust, right against that spongy spot that feels so good. You’re so sensitive that it’s enough to send you spiraling into your second orgasm, walls spasming around him uncontrollably. 
Katsuki stills, staving off his own release with all the restraint he can summon. He silently thanks whatever divine forces are out there that he didn’t cum the minute he felt the first clench of your orgasm. 
He grits his teeth as he wills himself to move, trying not to get lost in the wetness that envelops him. You’re babbling now, senseless moans filling Katsuki’s ears like a sweet melody. 
“Kats, please, I’m too sensitive—” You’re shaking now, muscles trembling with every thrust. 
“But I’m not done with you yet,” he says simply, drawing his hips back with a particularly rough thrust. You choke back whatever you were going to say with a loud cry. “What’s your color, baby?”
You take a moment to answer, brain trying to comprehend the words just uttered to you. You look at Katsuki firmly, “Green.”
“Atta girl,” he praises, the drive of his hips beginning to shallow. He’s close, and he doesn’t know how much longer he can hold out. But for you, he tries. “You’re mine, right?”
“Yes,” you breathe out, shivering as goosebumps dance across your skin. 
“Say it,” Katsuki pleads, thrusts growing sloppy by the second. “Say you’re mine.”
“I’m all yours, ‘ki.” 
With that, Katsuki’s fate is sealed. He’s left groaning as a flash of pleasure shakes his very soul, filling you up with so much cum that it dribbles onto the mattress even while he’s still inside you. You follow suit, an embarrassingly obscene rhythm of squelching noises fill the silence as you spasm around his dick. He collapses on top of you, but he’s still coherent enough to not dump all his weight on you. 
Your labored breaths fill the room as the two of you come to. Katsuki pulls out of you with a wince, still a bit sensitive. He gives you a peck on the lips before he drags himself down, settling in between your legs much like he was earlier. 
You tense up, “Kats, wait—”
Any and all protests cease the moment Bakugo works his tongue inside of you, slurping lewdly as he drags out the mixture of your cum and his, swallowing. He tries not to stimulate your puffy clit in an attempt to be merciful, but you still feel yourself steadily climbing to what would be your fourth orgasm this session. While the past three have been intense and drowning, this one comes to you in waves, dull pleasure invading your senses as Katsuki continues to eat you out to clean you up. 
He pulls away when you finish, your slick and his saliva coating his chin before he wipes it off on the back of his hand. You stare at his half-hard erection with a half concerned, half quizzical look. “Do you…” you lick your lips, “need help with that? I’m a little sensitive down there  but I could use my mout—”
“Nah, I’m good babe,” he says earnestly, flashing you a smile that he only ever shows around you. “I’ll be back.” With that, your boyfriend leaves the room only to come back with a bottle of water. 
“Drink.” You comply, finishing half the bottle graciously before handing it to him. He downs the rest before he settles next to you on the bed, laying on his side. You mirror him, shifting your body so that you’re both facing each other. 
Katsuki reaches out, finger idly tracing random shapes and lines onto the bare skin on your hip. He has a pensive look on his face, one that he usually doesn’t hold after stolen moments like this; it’s an expression he wears when he’s in deep thought. 
“Baby,” you call out. His eyes snap to yours, eyebrows raised.
“Yeah?”
“Whatcha thinking about?” You watch as a hesitant look flashes across your boyfriend’s face before he shakes his head.
“S’nothin’. Just thinkin’ about us two.” He speaks lightly. It’s always been difficult for him to voice his inner thoughts and feelings, so he tends to beat around the bush. You’ve learned that if you ever want something out of him, you’d have to pry a little. Katsuki always indulges you though. 
“What about us?”
“Do you- do you think you’ll ever get tired of this?” He repeats himself, clearing his throat. The question is followed by a weaker, “...of me?”
You think it’s the most ridiculous question he’s ever asked, because the answer should be obvious. “I’d never get tired of you, Katsuki. I love you so much.”
“I love you too,” he replies automatically, “but if I ever do anything that upsets you, or if I get too much for you, or if I—” he’s rambling now. Yes, it’s difficult for Katsuki to talk about his feelings, but once you manage to get him to open up, all the walls of his self-made fortress come crashing down and it’s up to you to pick up the pieces. 
“Baby,” you giggle, pressing a kiss to his lips, cupping his sharp jaw with one hand. “Look at me.” And he does— ruby eyes meeting yours. “I love you because you’re you. And I choose to be with you everyday. It’s not always gonna be perfect, no relationship is. But I know that I will always wake up and choose you.” 
You can see the anxiety melt away from Katsuki’s body, shoulders slumping as he lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. 
“Love you too, sap,” is all he says before he’s pulling you against his chest, squeezing you into a bearhug. You two stay that way until both of you are lulled to sleep. 
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You’re laying in bed with Katsuki, both of you dozing off when you hear a slight buzz from your phone on the nightstand. You squint as you try to read the notification, and make out that it’s from your friend.
Denki Kaminari: So did it work?
You bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from laughing, giving a quick glance over your shoulder to check on your boyfriend— fast asleep. You turn back to your phone, your thumbs making quick work at your keyboard. 
You: Just like I said it would. Thanks Denki :)
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Writing belongs to @ryukatters. Please do not share my work on Tiktok.
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sukunasweetheart · 9 months
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Thinking of breakup angst with sukuna...
Thinking of the build up towards it, the way you have been fighting over the littlest things for months now
It leads you to think about how self centered he can be, how you always feel like you loved him more than he loved you and how crushing it felt to have that realisation fall upon you every time
He can be so career focused sometimes, with the long business trips, work parties, etc. always working vehemently to get higher, threatening to leave you behind
And one particular night, the argument gets so heated that you dont get a wink of sleep afterwards, only staring blankly at nothing as you try to calm the chaos in your head. Sukuna heads out without a word the next morning, and you make the final decision in your head, alone, by yourself.
By the time sukuna comes back home with the intent of reconciliation, he finds that youre packing the remainder of your belongings into a suitcase in the bedroom, ready to move out of his home.
"what the fuck is all this?" he asks, his tone coming out harsher than he means it to be.
"what do you think? i'm breaking up with you. i'm moving out," you can barely stop your voice from wavering. you've cried too much this week.
"oh, come on. you know you don't mean that," he reaches out to grab your arm, but you withdraw away from his hand so fiercely that it even surprises him.
"don't you talk to me like that," you speak firmly, "like i'm being dramatic. why won't you ever treat me seriously? i am leaving, sukuna."
you continue your work, neatly folding up some of your shirts. you're already almost finished. he looks around, and the house looks half empty.
oh. you really mean it. you're really trying to leave.
"no, you're not. you're not leaving. not after everything we've been through together," he tells you defensively, grabbing your wrist, stopping you from folding your last shirt, trying to get you to look at him again.
"like what? constantly yelling at each other until our throats are sore? i'm really sick of it. and i'm sure you are, too."
"don't put words in my mouth. i may have gotten sick of our fighting, but i've never gotten sick of you," sukuna hisses, refusing to let you continue packing your things. you feel yourself getting swayed by his words.
"well, i am. i've gotten sick of you," you say quietly through gritted teeth.
"oh yeah? say it to me properly then. look at me dead in the eyes," he demands, voice getting lower.
"you heard me. i don't need to say it again." you pull away from his grip and try to get this last shirt folded. he grabs you again, by the hand this time, and the piece of clothing unravels once more.
"no, i didn't hear shit. convince me that you really want to leave me - and i'll let you go."
in a fit of anger, you turn to face him completely, but your resolve crumbles away when you see his expression. not the one you'd assigned to him in your own mind, but his true features, under the bright bedroom lights.
he looks serious. he looks concerned. he's asking you to tell him it's not true. tell him that you want to stay.
"...let me go. i'm leaving..." you say, voice finally breaking. like a broken faucet, your eyes begin leaking tears relentlessly and your throat closes up in that painful way that you hate, but nothing compares to the pain in your heart at the thought of really breaking up with this man here and now.
he lets you go...
and calmly takes your things out of the suitcase to put them back. you didn't miss the relief in his eyes that showed up for that split second.
"bring it back! i hate you," you attempt to raise your voice, but really, it's only just your ego speaking.
"you can't even say that you hate me in the correct tone. we're not breaking up," he mutters, hanging up your coats and putting them into the closet.
having been defeated, your legs give way and you sit down on the side of the bed, sobbing.
through the blur of your tears, you watch as he meticulously goes through your suitcase, putting everything where they belong. and you sob harder. he knows too much. he arranges your creams, perfumes and accessories in the perfect order on the dresser. he spends a good fifteen minutes, putting all of your belongings back where they should be.
and by the time he gets back to you, he's like a different man. the mattress dips from his weight as he sits next to you, bringing a box of tissues with him to wipe your tears away.
"we can talk tomorrow since we're both tired today," sukuna tells you as he dabs your eyes with the tissue, "i'll take the day off." you just sit still without responding. now that he mentioned it, the fatigue seems to fall upon you suddenly, like a brick. he coaxes you under the sheets.
soon, you find yourself in bed, in his arms. it's been a while since the two of you had cuddled so intimately. you feel oddly shy, the same way you did all those years ago when you first started dating him. there's a special kind of warmth that sukuna's body emits - and you're surrounded by it under these blankets.
"i'll try to do better... so don't go anywhere," he speaks with a softer tone.
because, it's true, he can't imagine living a life without you.
those are the last words you hear before you drift off to sleep.
the next morning, he's still in bed with you, and you're pleased to see he kept his word about taking the day off. checking the mirror, you're horrified and embarrassed about your swollen eyes from all the crying last night.
sukuna takes a look at you and chuckles without ill intent. but in your flustered state, you slap his arm until he's saying "my bad, my bad" in between laughs.
there's still some awkward tension between you and him, but going through breakfast together seems to melt some of that away, until you're ready to bring up yesterday's event.
it goes better than you'd expected, and after the discussion, the only thing that's left is to wait and see whether things will change for the better or not. whether his promises are empty or not.
"i didn't realise that you were so lonely. 'm sorry," he apologises as he plays with your hand, "i may work a lot, but you're always on my mind, doll."
it's like a huge weight off your shoulders.
and he begins to be more like his playful self again, after the talk.
"i'll need you to tell me that you love me today. since you told me you hated me yesterday," sukuna says with a smirk, hugging you from behind.
"well, you need to earn it," you shoot back, rolling your eyes.
"alright. will you say it back if i say it first?"
"sure."
"i love you."
"..."
"now that's not fair, is it?" he tickles you without mercy.
you burst out in laughter, thrashing around uncontrollably, trying to push him away.
"okay, okay! i love you!" you tell him in between breaths.
seemingly satisfied, he lets you go and pushes his face into the crook of your neck. he'll never let you go.
the following day after work, sukuna comes home earlier than usual, and he doesn't wear a grumpy expression in front of you. he greets you with a hug and kiss. it's a small gesture, but it makes you happy.
and slowly, the relationship begins to rekindle itself.
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luv4-liv · 1 month
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❝First time❞
Pairing: Theodore Nott x Reader
Warnings: Smut. +18. First time (hers). He's older (only two years, but, you know). Unprotected sex (do not do it please¡!).
Summary: You and him have a secret relationship, because he is two years older than you, and in fact, he is your brother's best friend. So, this is the first time they have had sex, basically..
The plot of this One Shot is totally mine and my imagination.
I have changed my W account, so you can find this in Spanish in my new wattpad account (delicateew)
Remember that English is not my language so it may contain several errors, please be patient with me
Don't translate this, or adapt it, or anything like that into Spanish, I'll do it, because it's my language. Thank you!
And I want to apologize for being inactive for too long, just things happened to keep me busy, so so sorry:(
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(that's not my gif)
____ was in her room, Theo sitting in the desk chair, reading a book for one of his exams, and she on top of him, her face hidden in his neck.
"Fuck, I already read twenty pages and none of the information stuck in my head."
The girl closed her eyes and stroked the opposite's hair.
"You're going to get frustrated and stressed and it's going to make you sick. Relax and go back to reading them patiently.."
"I have no choice..." she let out a sigh and continued reading the book.
Minutes later, she felt his hand fall heavily on her thigh, but she said nothing.
She opened her eyes as he began to caress her thigh, it felt like tickling, but strange.
She began to hold her breath the moment he squeezed it and began to sink his fingers into it.
It felt strangely good.
Theodore gritted his teeth, trying to concentrate on the book, but every time he felt her breath on his neck or her leg brushing against him, it was getting harder and harder.
He tried to ignore it but to no avail. Finally, he closed the book and set it aside, sighing deeply.
"I can't concentrate like this with you.." she murmured, bending down to stroke his cheek. Nott leaned closer, his lips barely brushing hers before he pulled back with a smile. "I really just can't resist you."
He kissed her slowly, placing his hand carefully on her neck.
He moved his hand up to her jaw, pulling her away from the kiss and ran his face to the side gently, so he could gain access and kiss her neck.
Theo gasped against her neck, running his lips along her soft skin. He tightened his fingers around her waist, letting out a choked breath when she tugged on his hair lightly.
His lips moved to her face again and kissed her.
She let out a barely audible moan as she felt his bulge grow between her legs.
Realizing it, he pulled away from her quickly.
"Fuck, I'm sorry.."
She denied, thinking about what he would answer her.
"I want to."
He looked up at the sound and suppressed a smile to look more serious.
"Are you sure...you don't have to, ____"
"Theo.. I really want to, I promise."
The Slytherin looked into her eyes, seeing that she was serious.
His lips curved into a slow smile. He gave her a kiss on the cheek and then began to unbutton her shirt, until it was off, revealing her bra.
He removed his own shirt and reconnected their lips. The hufflepuff closed her eyes, accepting his kiss. His tongue entered her mouth and ____ let herself be swept up in the moment.
Nott's hands traveled down her back, until they reached the clasp of her bra. He stood there for a few seconds until he managed to remove it, getting rid of it.
He knew she would feel embarrassed and insecure, so he preferred to continue kissing her to make her feel comfortable.
He got up from the chair, carrying her over to the bed and laid her down there.
Theo looked at ____ and slowly removed her skirt and underwear, after that, he unbuttoned her pants letting them fall down along with her boxers and moved even closer, brushing his member against her intimacy while he started to leave kisses all over her face, until he stopped at her lips.
Their lips joined in a deep kiss, with one of his hands he positioned his member at her entrance while with the other he caressed her cheek to soothe her.
Then, she parted the kiss as she felt him slowly enter, he for his part, continued to leave kisses on her cheek and neck as a way of soothing her.
Soon, he was completely inside. He was so careful and gentle that she barely felt a little sting, but it didn't hurt.
"You tell me when you're ready, my sweet." he said waiting for permission to continue or if she felt uncomfortable, to leave things just there.
"You can move now.." he whispered, trying to get used to the strange sensation.
Theo, without taking his eyes off her, slowly, began to move slightly, prioritizing that she was comfortable and felt safe.
When he saw her satisfied face, he began to increase his speed and intensity, but without allowing himself to be so rough or go at the pace he wanted, so as not to hurt her.
Still, ____ began to feel increasing pleasure.
She felt him going in and out so satisfyingly, it felt incredibly good, it was like nothing else in the world.
As it was all happening, she began to scratch his back, and somehow that turned him on more.
He with his hands fixed on her hips, spreading kisses down her neck and leaving several marks along the way.
Theo let out a moan of pleasure that was impossible to contain. His rhythm became louder and faster, feeling himself getting closer to the edge.
"Merlin, I love you so much.."
He felt her walls tighten around him and seconds later he felt her cum.
It took only a couple more thrusts to stop, withdraw from inside her and cum, dripping into her abdomen.
"Oh, Merlin..." she relaxed her body and closed her eyes completely exhausted.
"Oh, my sweet, you can't fall asleep like this, let's clean you up first." he said stroking her hair.
____ felt like sleeping a lot, she didn't know if it was just because it was the first time, but if she closed her eyes for a moment more, she wasn't going to open them for a couple of hours..
"Although I admit you look pretty all smeared with my cum." he laughed
"Theo!" she rolled her eyes smiling.
She'd had her first time.
And she was pretty sure no one could have done it better than he did.
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psychwxrdd · 3 months
Text
drug dealer! soft! rafe being a love sick puppy
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🎀 author's note: buzzcut rafe is my favorite rafe omg 😫 yk that one song "i'm a gangster's wife to an anybody killer" i had that lyrics on my head all day and it got me inspired lol and as much as i love dark/horror themes i love soooo much soft and sweet! rafe. yeah a canon of him being a drug dealer but he still is my little princess
(not mine gif)
also besties send me requests! i'm in the mood to write today
warnings: fluff, sexual mentions in the end but no actual smut
drug dealer! rafe instantly became infatued with you, the second he first saw you. he just knew he had to have you (please i can't help but imagine him staring like that one crazy stare he does in s2 when he's with barry and hears kiara in the drain lol)
drug dealer! rafe absolutely fucking worships you. like i MEAN it. he's selling his thing and worried about his busy and can't stop thinking about you, constantly texting you under the table. he has sooooo many pictures of you, not just on his phone but in his wallet as well, it's almost compulsive: he wants needs to stare at it all the time, and everyone always mocks him for this. he doesn't care about how crazy or corny they think he is or shit, thats his girl, the love of his life, his future wife and mother of his children. he would go to hell for you.
drug dealer! rafe who spoils the shit out you, if you said you wanted a big house like this or that, in color x or y, he would buy it entirely for you, the exact way you wanted. needless to say, he would buy anything you saw in a store that had your eyes shining, no matter what it is, if it would make you happy he wouldn't think twice. also, he is obsessed with the cute things you like 🥺 like imagine him buying a sylvanian family for you, or those sanrio plushies.
drug dealer! rafe who has you on his lap at any single party him and barry goes to, he doesn't let go of you for nothing. one say overprotective other say clingy, whatever it is, he always wants you on his arms. need to go to bathroom? he is waiting on the door. need a drink? he tells barry to got get it for you both (LMAO). you're tired or sleepy? he carries you around like a bride.
drug! dealer rafe taking you home and can't stop smiling staring at you sleeping, admiring your beauty and feeling his heart race from how much he loves you, how happy it feels to have you. he puts a song you like on the radio even tho it wasn't his taste or you weren't awake to hear it. you'd wake up and he'd be caressing your hair, the minute he he saw your eyes opening he said "shh, go back to sleep princess, it's late" and you were too sleepy to answer anything. he caressed your forehead, cheeks, nose, ears. he loved to put his fingers on your dots too, you had some small ones you didn't even noticed you have, but he did.
drug dealer! rafe already has a ring on his pocket just waiting for the perfect moment to ask you to marry him. you're the only person who ever gets to see this side of him, so he would probably get emotional while doing it.
drug dealer! rafe who have a MASSIVE breeding kink, but mostly because he really dreamed of having a family with you. not just because it felt good to cum inside you and it was hot, but because he really felt something he couldn't describe at the thought of you also wanting him to be the dad of your children, to have a family with him. it made his heart euphoric, it got him acting dumb. it meant you also wanted to spend your life with him, that was his biggest turned on.
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1-800-luvmail · 1 month
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[ read part one w/ price here ! ]
reader who would rather skydive without a parachute than have their self sufficiency questioned vs cod men [ 2 / ? ]
könig assumed that when you invited him to bake with you, it was going to be a cute little activity for the two of you to do. a simple afternoon in your kitchen, making some baked goods to enjoy later.
he could not be more fucking wrong. you bake up a storm, leaving trails of flour, baking soda, sugar and whatever other substances you've used in your wake. you also seem to be eyeballing every single measurement. it's chaos. he's never seen a more disorganized process of making red velvet cupcakes.
the worst part is, könig can't seem to understand why he's even there.
"hey can you pass me th— nevermind, i got it." you say, standing on the tips of your toes to reach a bag of chocolate chips which was just a little too high. he's just a whole 6'10 ft of useless, standing in your kitchen, and getting in the way.
so instead of waiting for instructions, he choses to make himself helpful by attempting to clean as you bake. it works smoothly for the most part. he wipes up any milk you've spilt on the counter, places a batter covered spoon in the sink to be washed later (not before taking a little taste of course... and mess be damned, you're good at baking even if the sample he got was raw), and moves the bowls you don't quite need yet out of the way.
everything is going fine. you're talking to him like this is the most calming activity on earth and he's replying with little hums of acknowledgement and nods as he swiftly tries to get a little more batter from the whisk you've just stopped using.
"hey— no. you're gonna get sick. there's raw egg in there." you chide, just as he's about to sneak a lick. he wonders how you even noticed, considering you seem to be using 110% of your concentration on filling up the cupcake liners with just enough batter for each cupcake to be roughly the same size, which happens to be the only semblance of consistency you've had this entire baking session.
"i'm not going to die because of a little batter." he counters, amused by your concern. he can't help but chuckle.
you snort, rolling your eyes. "famous last words of an impatient man."
eventually, your baking frenzy subsides. the red velvet cupcakes are cooled after being pulled fresh out of the oven, you've made an insanely good homemade cream cheese icing to go on top (which you begrudgingly allow him one taste of. one.), and it's time to decorate. you've piped on most of the icing already, but the unsatisfied stare you give your baked goods allows him to piece together it isn't over yet.
"i think these need sprinkles." you murmur after a moment. your eyes glance around and eventually land on possibly the highest shelf in the kitchen. where the sprinkles just so happen to be. he tries to supress laughter when he sees the disbelief on your face. "motherfu—"
"i will get it." könig interrupts, stepping towards the shelf. you step in front of him, blocking him from getting there, hauling a chair with you.
"nope. won't need to. 'm innovative." he watches you set up the chair and get ready to climb up— only to gently grab your forearm and tug you back.
"famous last words of a stupid person." he scoffs, echoing your words from earlier.
you shoot him an exasperated look as you wriggle out of his grasp.
"c'mon, i do this like, what— all the time? hasn't killed me yet." you say, pointing at the shelf. "it's not that high. i'll just climb up to reach it."
"or you could swallow your pride and allow me to get it."
"and what fun would that be?"
he sighs at your response, rubbing the bridge of his nose as he mutters something to himself. probably in german. not like you could hear. you were too busy staring up at the shelf and getting the chair set up.
on one hand, könig wants to help to prevent you from potentially falling and eating shit, but on the other, he knows you well enough to understand there's no stopping you. so instead, he settles for a compromise.
könig moves the chair out of the way.
"i said, i'm getting it by myself. i kinda need the chair for that." you huff, glancing back at him, only to watch as he lowers himself, arms wrapping around your legs. "hey wh—"
before you can process, you're hoisted up into the air with a startling ease.
"alright," he isn't even trying to hide his smirk as he lifts you up, high enough to reach the shelf, "you can get it."
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bratzforchris · 2 months
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Comfort, M. Sturniolo
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Summary: Matt's been burning out. It's taken a toll on his body and his mind, but luckily, you're always there when he needs you most<3
Pairing: Matt x feminine reader
Warnings: Burnout, mentions of disordered eating and anxiety, panic attack, pet names (baby, pretty/sweet/handsome boy)
Word Count: 1.8k
A/N: This was a random little idea I had while I've been out of classes and work sick! Soft hurt/comfort Matt makes me so 💗 Expect a lot of writing this week while I'm on spring break and enjoy this lil story<3
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Being a content creator was an extremely stressful job, and you knew that. You had to constantly be worried about numbers, engagement, and what looks would or would not get you media attention, good or bad. Although it may not be the same as a regular nine-to-five job, it was still incredibly taxing, and that weight was wearing down on your boyfriend roughly and quickly. 
Matt had been teetering on the edge of burnout for a while now, but just chose to ignore it, figuring if he didn’t acknowledge it, it would stay at bay. He knew you could tell; in fact, he knew everyone could tell, but that didn’t stop him from working day and night, constantly editing, pitching ideas to his brothers, and planning new videos. He refused to let you or Nick and Chris help him, not-so-logically thinking he had to ‘pull his weight’. In Matt’s head, Chris was the funny one, Nick was the editor and the smart one, and you had your own job at a local boutique downtown. You all didn’t have time to hear his issues, he thought. 
“Matt? You in here, love?” You knocked on the door to his office, worriedly gnawing on your lip. 
You hadn’t seen your boyfriend since you arrived home from work two hours ago, but you knew he was here because his car was in the driveway. At first, you had left him to his work, figuring he would come out when he was done with his tasks, but now, it was nearing dinnertime, and even the smell of food cooking on the stove wasn’t luring him out. You waited a few beats, not hearing an answer, until you decided to take matters into your own hands. You would never intrude on Matt’s personal space, but truth be told, you missed your boyfriend loads, and you were also slightly worried. 
Matt was hunched over his computer, fingers flying furiously over the keyboard as he typed out an email. He didn’t even look up from the screen until you tapped him on the shoulder, to which you only received a turn of the head and a tired, watery smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. 
“Dinner’s ready, baby,” You whispered softly, massaging his shoulders. “I missed you today.”
“I’ll be there in a minute,” he sighed, rubbing his temples and then turning back to the computer. “I have some stuff to do.”
“Matt, you’ve been in your office since I got home, darling. That was over two hours ago,” You protested gently. “You gotta be hungry, bubba.”
The awful anxiety started to creep into Matt’s mind at your questioning, not because of anything you were doing, but because he knew you were worrying about him, and he didn’t want that. “I ate earlier.” he lied, wincing at how easily the untruth rolled off his tongue. 
“There weren’t any dishes in the sink or the dishwasher and there weren’t any takeout containers. You didn’t eat, love.” You said firmly, but not unkindly. 
You had been noticing for a few weeks now that Matt was eating less and less, abandoning breakfast and usually after dinner dessert in favor of working in his office. You figured the issue would resolve itself after the influencers got out of their ‘busy season’, but here it was, two weeks later and Matt was getting worse, not better. You knew your boyfriend struggled with anxiety even before YouTube, but that wasn’t going to make you brush the issue off. 
“It doesn’t have to be a whole meal, but you need to eat something.” You continued as you massaged his neck and shoulders, him still facing the screen.
Your boyfriend didn’t say anything, and you almost thought he was ignoring you, until he turned to you, blue eyes full of unshed tears. “I can’t,” Matt cried, beginning to choke on held back sobs. “I have so much to do.” 
“Bubba, you can take a break. It’s okay,” You kissed his forehead. “No one is going to be mad at you.”
“But what if I’m not doing enough? What if Nick and Chris think I’m just letting them do all the work? What if…” Matt was cut off by his own shallow breathing, hands moving to fist his feathery brown hair. 
“Matt,” You interjected firmly. “You are panicking. You need to breathe. Copy me.”
Over your year of being with Matt, you had found that a firmer voice with no pet names usually got his attention better than an overly lovey-dovey voice when he was panicking. Matt finally looked at you, his hyperventilating slowing down as he copied your breathing. In for four, out for four. 
“Good boy.” You smiled, gently praising him as he relaxed against his office chair. 
Matt didn’t even argue when you closed out his computer. He just sat back against his chair, massaging his temples. You gently took his hand, leading him to the living room and guiding him to the couch. You knew he needed to eat, but right now, getting him calm and relaxed was the first priority. You sat down on the couch, allowing Matt to lay his head in your lap. You two didn’t speak for quite a while, allowing him to fully calm down first. Finally, you spoke, running a hand across his body and through his hair comfortingly. 
“Do ya wanna talk about it, handsome boy?” You asked kindly.
“I’m just stressed,” Matt sniffled. “I have a lot to do and Nick is already stressed so I tried to help him with editing, and,” he paused to catch his breath as tears rolled down his face. “And some people have been making mean comments about me lately.” he cried.
“Oh honey,” You said sympathetically, kissing his forehead. “I’m so sorry, pretty boy.”
“They say I’m not as entertaining as Nick and Chris cause I’m quiet.” he sobbed softly. 
“Baby, that is the furthest thing from the truth,” You told Matt, kissing his forehead. “You are sweet, kind, and funny. Anyone who says otherwise is a miserable internet troll who takes their problems out on people they don’t even know.”
“Mhm,” Matt sniffled and nodded, curling further into you. All was silent for a while as you cuddled until your boyfriend’s stomach growled. “My belly hurts.” he whimpered. 
You pouted, running your hand over his stomach comfortingly. “It’s probably because you’re hungry and stressed, honey. Those two things don’t mix well. Do you feel like eating some dinner?”
“No.” Matt said flatly, avoiding your eyes. 
“You have to eat, baby. You don’t even have to get up from the couch and it doesn’t have to be a heavy meal, but you have to eat.”
“Fine.” he mumbled, desperately trying not to cry again. 
“I love you, handsome.” You slid out from under him, softly covering him up with a blanket, before kissing his forehead with a little ‘Be right back’. 
You padded into the kitchen, grabbing a granola bar and an apple. You also refilled Matt’s water bottle that had been abandoned on the island with fresh water. Before you went back to the couch, though, you snuck into your shared room and grabbed Matt’s stuffed pug, Mr. Wrinkleton, off the bed. Based on your own anxiety experiences, you knew having a comfort object usually helped, and your boy needed all the help you could offer. 
By the time you made it back to the couch, Matt’s tears had slowed, but he was still visibly sniffling, blankly staring off into space while pulling the blanket closer to his chin. It broke your heart to see him like this, but for now, you were going to focus on comfort; you two could tackle solutions to the problem later. 
“Look who I brought,” You whisper squealed, handing Matt his stuffed animal. “He missed you.”
Your boyfriend smiled softly, clutching the plush animal to his chest. Mr. Wrinkleton had been Matt’s biggest comfort (besides you) for as long as he could remember, and that didn’t change now that he was an adult. He shifted so that you could once again sit down on the couch, before laying his head back in your lap. 
“I brought you some food, too.” You placed the snacks in Matt’s hand, planting a kiss on his forehead. 
Matt didn’t speak much as he chewed thoughtfully on the granola bar and apple. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to talk to you; he was just so exhausted that talking seemed like an extra task. Once he had finished, he placed his trash on the coffee table and then turned over so that his face was smushed against your body. You laid in silence for a while until you softly spoke, running a hand through his hair. 
“How are you feeling?” You asked softly. 
Matt shrugged, snuggling further into the blanket. “My stomach still hurts a little. I’m just really stressed.” he said sadly. 
“I have an idea if you’re up for it.” You smiled. 
“And that idea would be?” 
“Come on, I’ll show you,” You gently took Matt’s hand, making sure he had his blanket and stuffed animal and then led him to your shared bedroom. “Lay down on your back.” You instructed. 
Once Matt had gotten himself into a comfortable position, you straddled yourself across his legs and pulled his shirt off, admiring what you saw for a moment. Your boyfriend was gorgeous and toned with tanned skin and a beautiful sleeve of tattoos that you loved to admire. You stole a pump of lotion from the bottle off your nightstand and began to massage his skin, taking extra care to rub his belly gently and massage the knots in your shoulders. 
“God, Matt. Your shoulders are so tense, honey.” You hummed when your hands met a particular knot in his left shoulder. 
In response, your boyfriend let out a soft moan, closing his eyes and leaning his head back against the soft pillows of your bed. It sounded sexual, especially since you were straddling him, but Matt didn’t give a damn. The only thing he could focus on right now was the soft glide of your hands against his skin, melting all his worries away. 
Once you had finished your massage, you cuddled up next to him, pulling the covers over both of you. “Did that help a little?” You asked. 
Matt nodded appreciatively, burying his nose in your neck while holding his stuffed animal to his chest. “Mhm.” he mumbled happily. 
“I’m glad, sweet boy,” You whispered, kissing the spot behind his ear. “You know you can always come talk to me when you’re feeling stressed, right baby? I won’t judge you, nor will I ever be too busy for you.”
“I know,” Matt blushed. “I’m going to work on asking for help instead of trying to handle everything alone…” he whispered softly. 
“I’m so proud of you,” You hummed, giving him the soft praise he so heavily deserved. “You’re the best boyfriend I could ever ask for, you know that?”
“I am pretty great.” the giggle and smile you had been waiting to hear all evening finally crept into Matt’s voice. 
Even when his anxiety and worries got the best of him, he would never lose his ‘Mattitude’, and that was just one reason on a very, very long list that you loved this boy with your whole heart.  
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tags ♡: @aemrsy @jake-and-johnnies-slut @oobleoob @idek3000hi @melguilbert
note ♡: if you'd like to be added to my taglist, click here<3
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queenofapeacefuldawn · 2 months
Text
SxF Crack Theory: The Identity Of [REDACTED]'s Father
Hear me out here.... but, maybe, Twilight's father could be Yuri's boss, aka, the SSS Lieutenant.
Now, this might be a crack/joke theory, but here is the evidence I have to back up my claim (yes, I'm presenting it because I'm just Like That):
(Warning: Manga spoilers ahead)
Exhibit A: Physical Characteristics
Here is a picture of Agent Twilight:
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Here is a picture of Yuri's boss (who, from now in, will be referred to as YB, for my own convenience):
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We can see that Twilight and YB have very similar facial characteristics: bluish-grey eyes, blond hair, and a similar face shape (nose, jaw).
We never see Twilight's father's full face: only the lower half, because he has presumably forgotten his face, along with his mother's (King of Emotional Repression™️), but we can see that his jawline and shape of his mouth are very similar to Adult Twilight.
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Oh, and look at that- rather pronounced cheekbones, if I do say so myself. Where else did I see those? Hmmm
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Exhibit B: Ambiguous Fate
During the War Arc, we're never told about [REDACTED]'s father's fate. We just know he never returns to his family: and the reason why he left for the very last time, was that, "Things have been heating up at the border. I need to take a little business trip." The fact that his, a (presumably) rather important man's, body was never recovered: nor were [REDACTED] or his mother informed of his death. Of course, his body could have been lost in the bombings, or the part of [REDACTED] finding out about his father's dead could have been omitted, but for most of the part, we're left to assume about his father's dead. And... this sounds familiar to another instance...
Like the instance of [REDACTED]'s friends. He (and we) assumed they'd died in the warehouse as children, but later we see that they're alive and in the army (only to die a second time, RIP), but this time, for their deaths to be confirmed: for [REDACTED] to only receive their dog tags after the failed campaign.
This may have been a setup: for Endo to reintroduce [REDACTED]'s father, later in the story, as YB.
Anyway, one thing I've learned after reading and watching so many books, comics, and TV shows: never assume a person's dead, not unless their body/proof of their death has been explicitly shown. This belief was only reinforced after [REDACTED]'s friends.
And, [REDACTED]'s father's last known place was around the Westalian-Ostanian border. He could have escaped in the crossfire, theoretically...
Exhibit C: Fatherly Nature (?)
We all love a good found-family dynamic in the workplace. It's there with WISE, it's there with Garden, and it's kinda there with the SSS.
My main argument about this stems from the chapter which focuses on Yuri's work.
We see YB continuously worry about Yuri's physical health, in panels like:
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Obviously, this doesn't happen only in this chapter. Whenever Yuri's there, YB is also there, yelling at him to a) go to sleep, or b) STOP GETTING HIT BY BUSSES OH MY FUCKING GOD IT CAN'T HAPPEN SO MANY TIMES TO ONE PERSON-
And, of course, there's the Yuri Sick Fic chapter:
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Not gonna lie, this point is extremely weak, if I brought this up in court I'd be laughed out of there-
Anyway, I just wanted to put this in.
If it does turn out that YB is [REDACTED]'s father then. Bestie. Buddy. How are you managing to be a better father-figure to some insolent kid who gets hit by busses than you were to your actual son, like 20 years ago. Maybe he learned along the way.
Exhibit D: Symbolism (???)
Oh, look, another point I'm pulling out of my ass! But whatever, you're reading it <3
During the War Arc, we see Twilight sustain two major injuries:
One, as a child, when his home is bombed:
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And two, as an adult, in the army:
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and these injuries are both to his left eye.
Of course, this has given rise to theories of him not being able to see his left eye, it being his blind spot, and Yor guarding his blind spot on missions, etc., etc., which I love bc ✨Twiyor✨
Getting back on point, if we look at YB, we see that he has injuries too... or rather, remnants of them, what with the scars he has...
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which, are also on his left eye. Huh! Interesting... this might just be me, but could this be parallels to how similar he and his father were? Are? His father also wanted peace between Ostania and Westalis: but he taught his child that in a very harsh manner (by slapping him), but Twilight wants to teach Anya that in a kind manner. Whenever we see him teaching her, he never loses his cool with her (of course, he loses a lot of hope, but this man's a pessimist, what can we do).
Also shows how much kinder Twilight is, compared to his father.
---
Of course, these points are very weak, and it might just be that Endo reused some character designs for efficiency, but let me be, ok!! This is a crack theory!!! Let me be a clown!!!! AKDFJSJF
If I'm being honest, this post was inspired by a convo I'd had with my friend, around the time Chapter 86 was released. She was theorizing that [REDACTED]'s dad is the Shopkeeper, and I was theorizing it was this dude. Of course, our theorizing was sidetracked by Chapter 86, and a certain panel within it, but... WHATEVER.
So, what are your thoughts? Obviously, my own theory is very weak (for example, why would the SSS accept a Westalian citizen into their ranks? Why would he even join the SSS? Could he have defected? Abandoned his wife and kid?), but this was fun to think about, lol. What are your theories? I think the Shopkeeper-is-the-dad theory and the YB-is-his-dad theory are both cool, so, what do you think?
(Also, yeah, I know, his dad could very well be dead. I just refuse to believe it, bc I'm just Like That <3)
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yesimwriting · 3 months
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oh my god yes i'm very much interested in a drabble about my favourite besties kissing as besties do!!!!!!!!
the one that i really can't stop thinking about is the "i trust you more than anyone else" stuff like it's me and you against the world i'm such a sucker for that!! especially since felix is surrounded by people who wanna be close to him all the time and as easy going and open as he seems with anyone, it's of course on an entirely different level with reader
ugh the intimacy of it all makes me melt i love them😭😭
you get the vision!!
also had to start off a little angstier than usual bc the bestie kiss ™️ is only justifiable if both of them are upset enough to be more focused on being close than anything else, y'know
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The taste lingers. The bitterness infects all it touches, poisoning you from the inside out as you down the drink that some guy pushed into your hand a few minutes ago.
A familiar warning briefly flashes to the front of your mind. Don't take drinks from strangers...especially not drinks that you didn't see them make. One of a hundred safety rules that you usually adhere to.
You've never really under the self destructive urge after drinking thing. Maybe it's just being tired. Maybe it's just this.
You wipe at your eyes with your palm, only remembering the products you had so carefully applied to your skin a few hours ago after the fact.
"Are you--" A familiar voice cuts through the music. You blink once, but it's not enough to force your eyes to adjust, so you try again. After screwing your eyes shut for a second, you can finally make out the person in front of you. Annabel. "You don't look like you're doing too good."
Your irritation has nothing to do with her, and yet seeing her standing there, effortlessly flawless with a slight edge that just fits here, you feel the knot in your stomach tighten. But that's not her fault, so as stabiliy and politely as possible, you answer, "I'm...fine."
She regards you for a moment, eyebrows pinching together in uncertainty. "Why don't we find Felix, yeah?"
Why does everyone always assume that Felix is the solution to all of your problems? "I'm okay," you try again, voice a little more certain, "really."
Annabel still doesn't seem too convinced. She turns her head, scanning the crowded room. It doesn't take long for her to find Felix. It never does.
He's sitting on a loveseat that's been pushed towards the edge of the room. A few people are standing around him, a girl is sitting on the chair's arm, her legs swung over his lap.
"And he seems..." You force your face to remain neutral as your eyes finally land on him. "Busy."
Annabel looks back at you, her lips pressing together. Her expression only adds to your unease. "He wouldn't mind. It's you."
You shake your head, the motion adding to your slight nausea. Usually, you wouldn't think twice about sticking by Felix's side. Especially in this kind of setting, but after the words the two of you exchanged earlier, everything feels off its axis.
You're not used to fighting with Felix. It's such a foreign concept that the strange tension that had you walking away from him earlier probably doesn't even constitute an actual argument. But it's enough to make you feel out of place.
Swallowing once, you force yourself to focus on Annabel. "I think I just need some air." Annabel's still regarding you with uncertainty. "I'll be back in a minute, and if I feel sick or anything, I'll go get Felix." She doesn't move until someone calls her name. "Go. Have fun. I'll see you."
Annabel nods once, giving you a polite smile before leaving.
The door is near where Felix is sitting, which means there's no leaving without walking past him. There's enough of a crowd around him that him not noticing is a likely option, so you feel safe crossing the room.
You push your way through the room, eyes trained on the ground to help your balance. It's also a good excuse to not look at Felix as you reach the door.
There are stragglers--a group of girls chatting and giggling in front of the door, some guys doing shots, a girl in the middle of a phone call that looks painful.
You walk around the side of the house until you find an empty section of the sidewalk. The party feels far away here, even though the only thing dividing you is a few cars, a mailbox, and a streetlight. You sit and let yourself pretend that the bit of distance you've managed to create means something.
You could actually leave. Sure, this is a slightly off campus house party, but it's only a few blocks away from the street that'll take you to your dorm. You did walk here, but that was when you were focused, sober, and you had Felix with you.
But that's--you brought cash. You think. Maybe you should call a cab. It's not the worst idea. You drop your attention to the ground, instinctually searching for your purse.
Ugh. Your purse. Felix. You gave it to Felix.
Okay, you're still an independent person. This is probably for the best. It's never a good idea to leave a party without at least telling the person you came with, and this way it won't be a big deal. You'll ask for your purse so that you can call a cab. He probably won't even care.
You just need a minute to get it together. Then you'll be able to go back in, tap Felix on his shoulder, and get your purse. He won't even have to get that girl off his lap.
It is such a double standard. Felix completely forgetting about you is perfectly fine, but you talk to one person that isn't more Felix's friend than yours at one of these things and that must mean you're trying to replace him as a best friend.
Maybe you've been deluding yourself, convincing yourself that your friendship means more than it actually does. The thought makes it hard to breathe right.
"It's cold out."
Your palms press into asphalt as you snap your head to find the source of the sound. Felix. A lump wedges itself in your throat. "I'm fine." He takes a step forward. "I just wanted some air."
You turn your head, forcing yourself to stare ahead. Soft footsteps, the crunching of asphalt echoes, somehow sharper than the music coming from the house. Felix sits.
He's farther than he usually is.
You lift your hands, taking your time brushing your fingers against your palms to get rid of the debris that indented itself into your skin. "You um--you have my purse, right?" You fold your hands against your lap. "I need my phone. I--I need to call a taxi."
"What?" His voice doesn't come out angry, but there's a flatness there that burrows deep into the pit of your stomach. It almost feels disappointed. "Why?"
You squeeze your hands together, "I want to go home." You still can't look at him. "I want to go back to my room." Your voice starts to crack on the last word. Nails instinctually dig into your knee.
Felix sighs, angling himself towards you, "You don't have to do that." His voice is soft, cautious. "If you want to leave, I'll take you."
"No," you shake your head once, attention still focused forward to keep him from noticing the fact that your eyes are now watering. All of this feels so dumb, so small. Why are you almost crying? "It's okay, you're having fun, I can get back by myself."
He lets out another breath, moving his arm so that his hand sits between both of you. "You're drunk."
"So are you."
A beat of silence that feels like an attempt at admitting that he's more than just drunk. You saw Tyler--or Trevor, or maybe Timothy--wandering the halls. Some guy whose name you can never remember because he only shows up at the end of nights, when you're too out of it to do much more than just be happy. He's known for carrying--and sharing--harder stuff.
Not that you'd know. There's nowhere that Felix won't take you, nothing that he keeps from you. That's part of the beauty of your friendship, the lack of judgement. But Felix isn't fond of you participating in everything all the time.
If you ever show interest in anything on a night that Felix isn't feeling too sure about, he'll offer to get you whatever you want later, when it's just the two of you. Maybe you'd mind his concern if you cared about getting high more.
You can feel Felix's stare, the weight of his full attention. "You don't actually think I'm going to let you go anywhere alone, after drinking, in the middle of the night."
There's a patience there that makes it hard to sit still. You turn your head, finally looking at him, "I'm fine. I can--" You cut yourself off with a slight sniffle.
You wipe at your face with the side of your palm. Felix's eyebrows are pinched together. You don't know what to make of the way he's watching you. Felix lifts his hand, fingers finding their way against your jaw before you can move. "You're upset."
Pressing your lips together, you try to force yourself to look as neutral as possible. "I'm fine." He doesn't move. "You should go back to your party, Felix."
"The party?" His expression briefly contorts in confusion. "I don't care about the party." Your vision is starting to blur. "There are other parties. You're crying." Felix shifts his hand up your face, his thumb brushing against the apple of your cheek.
You try to take a stabilizing breath, "It's not a big deal." You will yourself to move, to rely on him less. "I don't think I'm going to be any fun tonight, you should go, and I--I'll talk you tomorrow."
He frowns. "You don't have to be any fun." Felix shouldn't have to coddle you. Embarrassment and guilt further knot your stomach. "If you want to sit here, we can sit here. If you want to go inside, we can go inside. If you want to go home, we'll go home."
"Earlier," you manage, focusing on keeping your voice as even as possible, "When we--" Tears pool in your eyes, something at the back of your throat constricts. "I didn't--I don't know--"
You're not making sense, forcing out fragments of thoughts that don't work together. Felix seems to understand anyway, his thumb grazing against your cheek. "We don't have to talk about that now." You nod slowly. "If you still want to go home, let me take you."
You attempt a full breath, "But what ab--"
He tilts his head in a way that makes it feel like he's telling you a secret, "If you ask about the party again, I'm calling you delusional."
You roll your eyes. It's a relatively lame threat, but it serves its purpose. The corner of your mouth tugs itself upwards, your lips pressed together to hold in a partial laugh. "Okay."
Felix's hand slips from the side of your face and finds a new place against your shoulder. "Yeah? Let's go then."
He stands first and then extends an arm to help you. His stability makes it easier.
There is no laughter or pausing on sidewalks to try to hold onto each other. The two of you are quiet, but Felix does keep your fingers intertwined the entire way back to his dorm.
You don't think to question where he's taking you until you're in his room. "Felix." The walk had been good for you, the fresh air and time to gather your thoughts providing enough of a reprieve for you to get it together. "I want to go to sleep."
"Yeah," he mumbles, "I know, I'll get you your favorite shirt."
Your eyes focus on the ground. "I think I should sleep in my room tonight."
Felix sighs, turning away from the door. "You're trying to leave again."
The accusation only half makes sense, but there's a quietness to his voice that gets to you. All the nervous, alcohol fueled energy is coming back with a vengeance. "When have I ever left you?"
Felix scoffs, the sound bitter. "You left me tonight." If his voice was any less raspy, any less urging, you likely would have laughed. He's the one that got mad at you. "You just--you walked away from me. Like I didn't even matter to you."
The a thinly veiled sadness there that almost feels nervous. He can't meet your gaze. The pride encouraging you to stand still bleeds from you. Without its heat, its fire, there's not much keeping you stable.
You move forward, footsteps cautious. "Felix." You stretch a hand forward, fingers brushing against his forearm. He doesn't move. "Of course you matter to me. So much." Your fingers bend around his wrist. "You're my best friend."
He turns his arm. Your body tenses, preparing for his rejection. Felix's hand squeezes yours. There's a tension in his hold, but you embrace it all the same. "You walked away from me."
You take another step towards him, freehand finding his arm. "That's why." He sets a hand against you waist. The contact is firm, unforgiving. There's still hurt, but the only thing more unthinkable than holding on is letting go. "What you say means so much to me, because you're my best friend." His fingers press into your side. "And you were upset--and there were so many people--" Tears prick the corner of your eyes. "And I couldn't do that there."
"No." He squeezes your hand. "No, don't--don't cry, we're okay." As if to prove his point, Felix pulls you closer. The movement's too sudden for you to keep your balance on your own. You tighten your hold on Felix's arm. "Still my best girl, yeah?"
This is nowhere near the closest you've ever been to him. He has a hand on your hip, but that's far from the touchiest he's ever been. It shouldn't--he shouldn't be this distracting. It takes you a second too long to remember to nod.
He angles his head downwards, his cheek finding a place against your shoulder. Felix's breath is warm against your neck. "Wouldn't leave me."
You nod, moving your hand to rest against his back. Felix relaxes against you. It's not easy to stay stable with the alcohol still in your system and Felix's weight on you, but you manage.
"No." You mean it so much it almost hurts to get out. You'd never walk away from him. There's nothing like your bond with Felix. You could talk to him, be around him forever without feeling drained. "Of course not."
Felix turns his head, brushing his lips against your neck. "Stay over, then?" The question is soft, fragile. It'd be smart to create distance. If tonight's proven anything, it's that you're too attached to him. "Please?"
You smooth your knuckles against his spine. "Okay." He presses a kiss against your shoulder. "Yeah. I'll stay."
He hugs you even tighter. "No more tears, alright?"
You squeeze him back. "Alright."
For awhile, the two of you stay like that. There's nothing left to say, and that still manages to be comfortable. Silence is never uncomfortable with Felix.
He eventually shifts to place a kiss against the side of your neck. "We should get ready for bed."
You hum once in agreement. Neither of you move. Things are simple when you factor out the rest of the world. Things are easy when it's just you and Felix.
An overwhelming wave of fondness brings you back. As gently as possible, you start the process of untangling limbs. Felix pouts at you, expression drowsier than before.
Your fingers carefully brush his hair out of his face. "I need to change."
Felix fully straightens. His hand finds the back of your head. He pulls you towards him, pressing a kiss against your forehead. "Okay."
He lets go of you before walking towards his dresser. Felix opens the top drawer and finds your usual sleep shirt. You take it before entering his bathroom.
Going out outfits are cute, but there's something about the moment you get home that immediately forces every ounce of discomfort to hit all at once. You shed the restrictive layers before pulling Felix's T-shirt over your head.
You swear there's some kind of rich guy secret to keeping clothes this soft. A combination of fabric, fancy detergent, and some third thing that's reserved for those in the know.
You turn on the sink, ready to wash what's left of the night off of your face. Felix has never gotten rid of or moved anything you've left in here. What's left of your buzz has you more emotional than usual, making the evidence of your life in his space heavier than it should be.
The feeling is good and bad all at once. Your attachment to Felix is the kind of thing that can only come from fully understanding someone. But there's an inherent danger in knowing someone like that, carrying about them like that. Especially Felix, who has everyone so he doesn't need anyone.
You splash some more water onto your face, attempting to shake off any lingering angst. You don't want to dissect your friendship until it eventually falls apart into nothingness.
When you finally step back into his room, Felix is sitting on his bed, back pressed against the wall. He's managed to change into pajama pants, but seems to be struggling with everything else. His shirt's half unbuttoned, and his fingers are actively working at undoing the rest of them. Felix's movements are slow and clumsy as he tugs on the fabric.
Wow. Maybe you were right to think he was high. "Hey." He looks up at you, hands still attempting to pull apart his shirt. There's something endearing about the clumsiness. He drops his head back down to refocus."Do you--uh--do you need help?"
He angles his head to one side, a smile playing at his lips. "Are you asking to undress me?"
Heat burns through your chest, leaving you hollow. You approach his dresser, leaving your neatly folded outfit on the wooden surface. "Figure out your own shirt."
"No," his sigh is light, almost a laugh, "'M kidding." Your glare only seems to add to his easygoing mood. He smiles, dropping a hand to pat the space next to him. "Come here."
You give in with a sigh, crossing the room and sitting at the foot of his bed. He reaches forward, briefly squeezing your shoulder before returning to work on his shirt. It's hard to watch him stumble through undoing a single button, just to have to start the process all over again.
You pull your legs onto the bed, turning to fully face him. Your knee is pressed against his thigh.
"Lovie," he hums, as if your presence is some kind of revelation.
"Felix." He grins, hands releasing his shirt in favor of trying to grasp your arm. "Wait--" His fingers wrap around your wrist. "I'm--trying--" He pulls your hand towards him, placing a kiss against your knuckles. You laugh. "I'm trying to help you."
He tugs on your arm. His pull isn't harsh, but the unexpectedness of it paired with your buzz makes it enough to throw off your balance. Your freehand presses against the mattress in an attempt to stabilize yourself. Felix laughs, tugging on you again.
Fighting your own fit of giggles, you instinctually push yourself onto your knees in an attempt to regain some control. Felix gives you a second to find your footing. You gently pull his hand off of your forearm and set it on his lap. He frowns.
You extend your arms, placing your hands on his shoulders. Part of the reason for it is to help keep you stable, the rest of it is to keep him focused. He looks up at you, eyes pools of hesitant affection. "Stay still."
He lets you reach for his shirt. "Y'don't have to, I'm okay."
Shrugging, you continue to work at unclasping his buttons. "It's okay, I like helping you."
You unbutton the few buttons that are left. "Better?" Felix nods. "I'll get you a pajama shirt."
Before you can get far, Felix grabs your hand. "We're..." He focuses on bending and straightening your fingers. "Good, right?"
There's something soft about the question, almost shy. "Yeah." He turns over your palm, tracing the lines etched into your skin. "Of course we're good." You adjust, crossing your legs beneath you to sit down.
"Honestly, I was thinking about it, and part of the reason I was upset is because..." This is harder to admit than you thought it'd be. "You seemed really okay without me, and that--I don't know. It's dumb, because I really do want you to be happy, but it made me feel a little replaceable, I guess."
"What?"
You sigh, dropping your attention to your intertwined hands. "I know, I said it was dumb." You pause, eyes darting up to look at him. His expression isn't judgmental or like he needs space. You can't fully read his expression, but nothing about the way he's looking at you feels unkind. "I only mentioned it to be honest, I don't like the idea of keeping se--"
He pulls on your arm again, this time his hold a little firmer. You're closer now. Felix's other hand finds your hip, anchoring you in place. You're too confused to do anything but blink at him.
Felix lets go of your arm, fingers finding their way beneath your chin. He angles your head so that all of your attention is on him. Your lips part, a half thought out question is on the tip of your tongue when Felix leans towards you. His lips meet yours.
You're still, shock and something a lot more electric rendering you in capable of anything else. This isn't the first time Felix has pressed his lips against yours. He's affectionate, especially when drinking is involved. He'll brush his lips against yours after taking a shot together, or just because at the end of a long night. It's not an everyday thing, but it's happened from time to time.
This--this isn't that. He's lingering, lips parting so that his teeth can graze against your bottom lip. Felix pulls away just enough to look you in the eye. His thumb brushes across your cheek.
"You're my best friend." Felix's words are so urging, so pleading you nod before you can think. "Best mate. You're the--the only one that gets me. Really gets me." His hand moves to the back of your head, pulling you back to him.
Any sense of hesitance vanishes the second time he kisses you. He's all consuming, lips dragging against yours with a desperate patience that's dizzying. It's disorientating, the desire to be that much closer to someone when there's no way to get there.
Felix's hand finds your back. He pushes you towards him. There's no good way to oblige. You try anyway, shifting your weight back onto your knees. Felix pulls you forward by your waist. You're too focused on him to realize what's happening until you're on his lap.
He takes his time letting you go, teeth tugging on your bottom lip. "I trust you more than anyone." Felix leans back in, placing a quick kiss against your lips. "You're not replaceable." He squeezes your shoulder. "You know that, right?"
Still breathless, you nod. He's watching you with so much patience, so much care it's almost hard to bare.
His thumb smooths circles against your shoulder. "Let's go to bed, yeah?"
You lift his hand off your thigh to press a kiss against the back of his palm. "Yeah, lets go to bed."
He squeezes your shoulder once before letting you go. You move off of his lap carefully.
Felix sits up enough to push his shirt off of his shoulders. Your eyes instinctually fall to his sheets. "Do you want me to get you a shirt?"
"Why? Distracted?"
You roll your eyes in an attempt to the fact that you are struggling to look at him. "Shut up."
He grins as he pulls back his sheets. "M'okay." You take the opportunity to slip beneath the layers of fabric. Felix waits until you're settled to crawl beneath the sheets. "It's warm enough, even with you stealing my blankets."
"I do not," the sentence is more of a mock gasp than anything else. Felix shifts onto his side before collapsing his weight on you. "Felix."
"What?" He rests his cheek against your chest. "This is the only way to keep you from taking my sheets."
You sigh, feigning annoyance as your fingers find his hair. "Rude. I'm a great bed sharer."
Felix lets out a partial laugh against the side of your neck. His hand finds your hip. "You are pretty great."
Your hand trails down towards his back, nails grazing against the bare skin. "You are, too."
Silence stretches between the two of you for so long you assume that he's already fallen asleep. Felix has a talent for drifting off in the blink of an eye.
"Lovie?" He whispers the term so lowly you almost convince yourself the sound is a figment of your imagination.
"Yeah?"
You can feel the shift in his breathing. "It's you and me--just you and me, when it comes down to it." His thumb brushes up and down your side. "You know that."
He relaxes as your fingers trail down the start of his spine. "Yeah. Of course I know that." A part of you feels naive for believing his words so easily. He's too adored to just be your Felix at the end of the day, and yet-- "Just you and me."
Felix leaves an open mouthed kiss against collarbone. It's the kind of warm that leaves goosebumps breaking out everywhere the contact can't be felt. "Good."
----
taglist; @vader-is-hot @spiritofbuddha @getosangie @freyafriggafrey @ilovehyperfixating @aryiannarae @willowpains @ker0senebunny
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hoshieeyewrinkles · 3 months
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• Protective dreamies •
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♡ Dreamies being protective over you.
♡ Fluff x 100
♡ Dreamies are anxious
♡ haechan's a tad bit longer
[Requested]
Mark
~ he was always concerned for your safety, making sure to drop you everywhere. He was paranoid about his antifans potentially hurting you, so he ended up going overboard sometimes like not letting you go anywhere alone especially when he is on schedule. "Understand baby, I'm scared that someone might try to hurt you." he will be fine when you assure him that you will be careful while going out alone and always have your live location on. Will constantly call your family and friends to check on you when he is away.
Renjun
~ he tends to overthink a lot and gets upset when you don't pick up his phone right away. He needs to be away from you frequently due to his busy schedules so he feels bad that he isn't there to look after you. You not picking up his calls right away makes him take the next flight back to you in fear because what if someone broke in? Or worse kidnap you? "Sweetheart, we already talked about this? I don't like it when you keep your phone at random places." He is just a worried baby but you are always his perfect match to calm him down.
Jeno
~ he is a clingy lil baby, he always and ALWAYS needs to have his hand on you. Doesn't let you sit away from him even when you are out with your friend. Keeps his hand on you in risky public places as well. Guides you through very crowded places without letting you stop near any stall. You scolded him once for this once and he acts like the saddest puppy ever "Baby, what if you get lost? What if I never find you again?" Will carry you in his pocket if he could.
Haechan
~ I feel like Haechan would be very protective of the person he loves, is cautious of every other guy around you who acts even a bit sus. You guys go out for drinks every day and he double checks every drink before handing it you making the bartender annoyed as well because why tf would he try to spike your drink right infront of you? He would glare at any guy who looks at you for more than a second. Punched the shit out of a guy for groping you and got into a heated argument with your friends once for treating your feelings like shit "I don't care baby, no motherfucker can disregard you in such a way." He always has your back. You just need to keep his temper in check.
Jaemin
~ never makes you do any heavy chores, scolds you gently for eating junk all the time and God forbid if you ever get sick. He is gonna wrap you in a burrito and keep you in bed for days. If you get hurt he would gently coo on the spot and speak in a babyish tone. If you ever get annoyed, he will feel bad, and you will need to reassure him that you are never annoyed by his caring nature, and that it was just a spur of the moment. "You don't need to do all that princess when I'm right here to help you relax"
Chenle
~ Chenle loves spoiling you all the time and would want you to be with him everywhere he goes. He feels anxious when he has to go on tour without you, and would make amends to bring you with him. Everything you eat and use will always be double checked by him to make sure that they aren't expired or harmful. Would gently ask you to not trust any stranger blindly even if they act nice because they could be antifans. "Stop trying to eat the expired ice cream from the fridge princess. Let me order a new one." Will still join you sometimes to eat the expired ice cream just because it looked good.
Jisung
~ he is a big baby and is always afraid of hurting you. Will keep all the things on the counter for you to reach safely even if you are tall enough. Holds you so gently that you could barely feel his touch so you hold his hands on yours in a tight grip making him panic "What if you get hurt? I know baby you are not made of glass but still." He is just worried and will pull a dramatic skit if he sees you doing anything slightly dangerous.
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dilfprayers · 2 months
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Angel
real!dad leon kennedy x afab!reader
tw: incest
short yip yap, 100% filth // related to: My, Penitence
an: i felt like yapping about just some sex between leon and the reader in the tl of my last story in between working on the actual second part of the story & some other stuff >_<;;; it isnt much but hehe
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"Somedays I'm convinced your dad is more of a boyfriend than this 'mysterious' guy. You're always with him but I assume it's cause you're such a daddy's girl. He can't let you go, huh?"
Your friend jokes while blowing out the smoke from her cigarette.
"Probably just as overprotective now since his only child is having a kid. Must be a big thing for him."
You chuckle in response but you knew the truth. You knew all of what truly was happening. The sexual relationship with your father had went on for a while now. But she'd think you're insane, right?
"— I really wish I could meet the guy who got MY best friend pregnant!"
"My dad."
You respond softly, hearing a light cough. She choked on the smoke from your response.
"What?- You're fucking with me. Right?"
You gaze over, that warm smile remained on your face.
"Of course I'm fucking with you."
You lied, gently ghosting your fingertips over your belly. You felt the gentle kicks in response as your smile widened more. You were having his child. Your father's child.
You couldn't be any happier.
_
What was normal? You don't exactly remember what it's like to be a normal person like everyone else around you was. You adapted back to your roots and all the shit your father dragged you into.
Your first time, second time and yeah.. Whatever time by now wasn't as ideal. But you slowly but surely gotten back into that headspace you had a while back and enjoyed when he came up from behind to touch you or fuck you. You loved your daddy in a sick way all over again. You made the most sense out of it though even when he had spiraled from drinking and would smack you around, beat you till you saw nothing but darkness but you enjoyed finally being intertwined with him. You finally were close with him like the way you wanted it to be.
If anything, he molded you into what you originally wanted to be in the first place.
"Daddy.."
You're obviously mentally gone in the head, busy nuzzling against him like a needy dog while he has his arm wrapped around you, watching television with you. He glances over, a warm smile etched on his face - seeing you all up on him. He found it cute and amusing.
"Yeah sweetheart?"
"Need you.."
"Now?"
"Noooww.."
You thought you'd be past this when you were in your so called "healing" phase but that was short lived after he had you all to himself after the divorce — he seemed to have forgotten all about that, didn't even speak about your mother ever again and only spoke about you or ranted about work. The usual.
"Huh, alright. My pretty angel wants her daddy, yeah?"
"Mh.." You shift around, crawling right onto his lap while staring into his eyes lovingly. He enjoyed the sight of you, all bubbly and needy. It's exactly what he wanted out of you.
So with that, he didn't waste anytime in pulling his pajama pants off and his boxers, letting his cock fling out. You notice it and bite your lower lip with excitement; glancing towards him again with an ecstatic look on your face. This night was gonna be a long one.
_
You two were at it for a while, loud moans and begging filled the room. The scent of sex pooling throughout as you felt yourself in a new state of bliss. For the longest, you tried to get him to stop whenever he stopped by your bedroom at night. After he had taken your virginity, he couldn't get enough of you. Kept mentioning how you were like your mother but better.
At first it was weird then it turned out to make you smile when he said that. You craved for those compliments, hence why you started doing the things you did when you felt him slightly straying away from doing things with you. Changed your attire, purposely did the cliché thing of bending over with skirts or short dresses on so he could see your panties. All of those had brought him further into this taboo relationship. It never was meant to get out of hand but you both couldn't help it. If he was sick in the head, then you were too.
"Daddy's cock feels so- Good!!~"
You cry out, grazing your nails along his back. Your breasts brushed along his chest as he groans, gazing up at you. He was happy himself even if somedays he sat there with a concerned expression whenever he was laying there in bed with you.
"Oh?"
He replies, gripping to your hips before he decided it was time to take charge. He moves his hands up in a better position before grabbing you and pinning you down to the couch, slamming his cock back into you. Your moans are strained out while he stares down at you with a smile. He enjoyed seeing you like this regardless of the doubt in the back of his head that was faintly there.
"I'm gonna cum soon.."
He grasps your hip with one hand while his other hand was in yours, intertwining the both of your fingers together. It was bittersweet and you squeezed at his hand while looking up at him. His movements progressively gotten rougher and faster — nothing but the sound of skin slapping against each other and the loud squelching noises were heard through the room.
"I-inside?..Please.. Please inside!"
To his surprise, this was the first time you begged for him to cum inside. Surely, you expected him to do this on his own but he always pulled out of you each time in the past but this day was different. His cock throbbed from your pleads — only moving rougher than before as a low growl left his throat.
"Inside? You want daddy's cum inside, huh? Dirty girl.."
He wasn't gonna turn down your plea, if anything he was all for it. He tensed up, quickening his pace while you both made eye contact with eachother. The way you stared at eachother made butterflies go crazy in your stomach. Before you knew it, you both had leaned closer to eachother, sharing a passionate kiss that a father and a daughter shouldn't share, but you two were different.
It felt good, so it didn't matter if it was wrong or right.
You muffle moans into the kiss, slipping your hands away and wrapped your arms around his neck. Your legs naturally remain wrapped around his back as his thrusts gotten rougher and deeper while time passed.
Seconds later? You both are crying out moans into the long-lasting kiss, you made a mess all over the sheets and his cock that was twitching inside of you — filling you to the brim. This might've been the most he's ever come..
You both laid there, out of breath while you felt his weight ontop of you. His embrace was warm and it kept you at ease after the session you both shared.
"Ah.....I..I love you, angel."
He rasps out, nuzzling into your neck. You could feel his stubble scrape at your skin as you gazed at him with a faint smile.
"I love you too, daddy.."
You truly did replace your mother. You weren't his daughter anymore.
You were his wife.
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0nmykne3s · 3 months
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sick cuddles | l. Williamson x teen!reader
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(just pretend youre the dog haha)
summary: you go to training sick, leah takes care of you
(i'm not that good at summaries)
a/n: hi guys!! this is my very first time writing any form of story outside of school, so some feedback and constructive criticism is appreciated! also keep in mind that i don't know anything about pro footballers schedules, so i'm just guessing. english isn't my first language so please keep that in mind <3
1064 words
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After snoozing your alarm for the seventh time you finally decided to wake up. It felt like you had woken up from the dead, you had the most dreadful headache ever and your throat was so sore, it felt like there was a literal porcupine inside your throat. You tiredly reached for your phone to check the time, and it read 09.52 “OH SHIT, I'M LATE, LEAH’S GOING TO KILL ME!” you exclaimed, which you quickly regretted once you burst out into a coughing fit.
-
When you first joined Arsenal at 16 years old, it was Leah who first took you under her wing. She let you live with her until you found an apartment you could move into, despite her protests of you being too young to live alone you decided to move. The first four months of you living there Leah always came over to check on you, she would have kept doing it if you hadn't complained about it all the time. She agreed to stop coming over, only if you would call her immediately if something happened.
-
You quickly dressed yourself and made some toast, and ran out the door. It was 10.14 when you finally got to the arsenal training centre. Luckily for you the girls didn't notice you coming in, since they were busy cleaning up breakfast. “Hey y/n! Where have you been? I didn’t see you coming in earlier” Beth asked you once she saw you. “Oh, i was just… sitting over there” you say awkwardly as you waved your hand to a random area. “Weird, anyways..” she said as she started rambling on about Myle and how cute she is. You were honestly not paying attention and just throwing in a random mhm and awe once in a while. You felt someone looking at you, so you looked around a bit, until you saw Leah looking intensely at you as if she was trying to figure something out. 
Leah felt like something was a little off with you, your voice was a little hoarse and you looked a little pale. She made a mental note to keep an eye on you throughout training. Beth was still rambling on about Myle and showing you pictures of her, until Leah came and interrupted “Y/N come on you’re going to be late”,  “Okayy” you sighed. 
You were walking to the pitch with Leah until you abruptly stopped as a wave of dizziness came over you, “Hey, are you alright? What happened? She asked as she put her arm around to steady you. “Yeah, I just suddenly got a little dizzy, but it's alright” you responded. Leah brushed it off, knowing you wouldn't tell her anyways.
-
You were trying to dribble the ball past Katie, until Katie went in for a tackle, which was 100% clean, but since you were sick and a little unstable you fell over onto the grass, face down. “Ey, mate you good?” Katie asked you, “Yea.. just give me second” you groaned. “Hey! What's going on?” You heard Leah yell. “I don’t know!” Katie said defensively. You heard Leah running over, and when she got to you, you felt her bend over and put a hand on your back, “Hey kid, what's wrong? Where does it hurt?” she asked softly, “My head” you whispered in a barely audible voice. “Okay” she said worriedly, she put her hand on your head, “Jesus christ, you're burning up!” she said, sounding quite distressed. She lifted you up from the ground, “Alright good girl, let’s get you inside. Okay?” Leah said softly, as she was basically carrying you, as you were barely able to stand on your own. “Okay” you mumbled, not really paying attention to what she was saying because of how much your head was pounding.
-
“She has a high fever, and is quite dehydrated. She can't train for the rest of the week and she needs lots of rest and make sure she drinks enough water..” the doctor said. “Alright, you hear that bub. Lots of rest and water” she said, while rubbing your back.
By the time you were done at the doctor, training was over. “Y/n/n training is over so i'm going to drive us to mine, okay?” Leah said. “Yeah, okay..” you said tiredly. You were in the backseat while Leah was driving. Every once in a while Leah glanced back to see how you were doing, when she looked back at you she smiled fondly at the sight of you sound asleep leaning against the window. When you made it home you were still asleep so Leah carried you inside deciding that you needed the rest. When you made it inside Leah put you softly down onto the couch, so she could keep an eye on you while she made food.
“Hey sweets wake up, I made your favourite pasta.” she whispered softly, while rubbing your back. “Mmm okay” you mumbled half asleep. After you and Leah finished eating, she took the plates and started washing them. “Thanks for the Le, it actually tasted good” you joked in your hoarse voice, “Ha ha” she said sarcastically, just as you were about to laugh you burst out into a coughing fit. Leah turned around alarmed, “Hey, hey, it's okay” she said comfortingly while she rubbed your back. Once you had settled down, she went to get something. When she came back you saw her carrying a cup of tea, “Here, it's tea for your throat”, “Thanks Leah” you mumbled.
Once you had finished your tea, you yawned and rubbed your eyes, “Let's get you to bed, alright?” Leah said, in which you just hummed in reply. You walked into the bedroom and changed into the clothes Leah lent to you, which was an old Arsenal hoodie and a pair of pyjama shorts. “Le, snuggles please?” you asked shyly when you were done changing, “Alright bub, i'm just going to change then i'll be back” she said chuckling. When she was done changing you both laid down in bed, with you laying against Leah with your head in her crook of her shoulder, and Leah hugging you while tracing aimlessly around your back. Just like you guys used to do after you had a nightmare and came into her room, when you lived together. 
Shortly after you were sound asleep in her arms.
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hope you guys enjoyed! a comment or some feedback would be greatly appreciated <3
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the-final-sif · 5 months
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I need to hop back into my transformers bullshit for just a moment because I don't think they've had much interaction in canon, but I think it'd be really really funny if Tarn was actually terrified of Starscream.
Like, I dunno if MTMTE/IDW canon has confirmed Starscream's immortal spark for that particular series, but I'm going to assume it carries over. If so, it'd make Tarn's power basically useless against him.
In my ideal headcanon, Tarn got sick of Starscream's shit at some point and went against Megatron to try to murder him. He tried to do this subtly using his voice only for it to 100% not work even a little bit. He would've had this whole build up where he got Starscream alone and was attempting to be a dramatic bitch about the whole thing and build up to the murder and then-
And then it just doesn't work and there's a really awkward pause where Starscream is looking around kind of expecting something to happen when literally nothing does. Tarn is trying to keep a normal conversation going now while also attempting the murder again and again just for it to literally do nothing. Eventually Starscream gets sick of him being weird and walks out judging the guy.
It'd be so fucking funny particularly because Starscream having an immortal spark is generally totally unknown, so Tarn would have to assume that Starscream had found some way to render his ability useless, which is terrifying. Tarn is now extremely worried that Starscream somehow had a spy and found out what he was planning to do ahead of time. He might've even been able to get something into Tarn's head somehow to know his plan this well. Clearly that level of genius must be part of why Megatron keeps him around. Tarn was a fool for having attempted to disobey, and Starscream was clearly not a problem he could solve like this. What if Starscream reports this clear disobedience to Megatron? Tarn just tried and failed to kill the second in command! Starscream would have every right to demand his execution if he so desired, or save this as blackmail!
Tarn is just out of his mind spinning conspiracy theories and getting super high levels of paranoia about Starscream. Just doing whatever he can to not have to be in the same place as the guy. He runs under the assumption he's being blackmailed by Starscream for his attempt and does what he can to not cross the seeker.
Meanwhile from Starscream's perspective, Tarn showed up and had a very weird conversation where he kept raising his voice at random times and then nothing happened. Then the guy freaked out and got even more weird about it. He has no idea why this happened. He has no idea that Tarn is hiding from him. He thought it was weird and stopped thinking about it after a few days. Starscream's minding his own business and mostly forgot about this entire thing after two weeks meanwhile Tarn is having a mental breakdown about it for years.
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