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#at least you CAN work and it’s not so bad that you can’t that’s a privilege
sweetestdesire · 3 days
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SO DAMN NEEDY
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WARNINGS: absolutely none. Just some pure, sweet content.
PAIRING(S): Quinn Hughes x Fem!Reader
SUMMARY: in which Quinn Hughes is a surprisingly needy boyfriend.
Arms tightened their hold on Y/N as Quinn groaned, burying his head into her chest. Sighing, she glanced at the clock, trying her best to wriggle out of his grip as he fell into slumber once more, but his arms locked her in place again. Mornings with Quinn always tended to be unproductive, he wasn’t one to give in once he decided on something and most mornings, he decided she’d stay in bed with him for as long as his heart was content.
"Quinn.” Y/N sighed, prodding at his shoulder. He pretended not to hear her, the little shit. She could feel the tiny smile on his lips against her chest. "Quinn, let go."
"No." He mumbled. "Don’t wanna." It was an everlasting effort to try not to roll her eyes at her boyfriend, he made the task harder than most. Pinching his arm, she glared at him when he jolted a little, staring at her in shock.
“Quinn, please.” Y/N sighed tiredly, but Quinn could hear the smile in her voice. He could even feel it as her lips pressed against his forehead in a gentle kiss, but he didn’t let the soft touch of her lips bribe him into letting go, however. Instead, he was shifting more weight to press onto her as his face hid in the crook of her neck, pulling an exasperated groan out of her as she glared down at him.
“No.” He mumbled, latching onto her body tighter. “Stay.”
“I can’t.”
“Yes, you can.”
“I need to get up.” Y/N huffed. “I’ll be late for work again.”
“Then be late. Just tell them you had important things to do.”
“Cuddling in the morning isn’t important, Quinn.”
“That’s rude.” Quinn interrupted, pouting into her neck as his hands squeezed her hips. “It’s important to me.”
Y/N couldn’t help but roll her eyes, and couldn’t help but purse her lips as she looked down at the mess of hair under her chin as Quinn tucked himself into her. It was a losing battle every morning, a constant back and forth that she knew she was powerless to win. At first, Quinn seemed like a distant guy. He seemed like someone she’d get lucky to even hold hands with, someone who kept his space and maintained his composure. At least, that’s what she used to think.
It didn’t take long after dating to realize he was quite the opposite. That he was clingy in the mornings, that he needed far too many kisses throughout the day to be normal, that he followed her around the house like a lost puppy, that he couldn’t sleep without her playing with his hair at night. It was funny at first, it was cute and made her just a little giddy that he was as needy as he was around her, but sometimes, like right now for example, it was just a little inconvenient too.
Y/N rubbed over the bare skin of his back, feeling the rippling muscles under her palm. Letting out a content sigh, he nuzzled deeper into her, pressing a tiny kiss to her other hand when it laid on his cheek. “I really should get up.” She whispered.
“I missed you last night.” He mumbled. "Just wanna spend more time with you."
"Quinn, we spent the whole night together, what are you talking about?" Pouting, he gently guided her hand to his hair, leaning into her touch. She smiled at his ploy to get her to stroke through the strands, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead as she did.
"Didn’t even talk to me.” Quinn grumbled. "Just slept the whole time.” His voice was accusatory, as if she betrayed him for doing the norm and falling asleep. He pouted bitterly at the memory of being cut off during his rambling by her soft snore.
"Oh.” Y/N rolled her eyes. "Sorry, I’ll try not to do that next time."
"I’ll wake you up if you fall asleep while I’m talking tonight. Swear I’ll do it.” He warned. Y/N snorted, making him crack a smile, humming when she gently scratched at his scalp with her nails.
"Okay, drama queen. You’re bad for my sleep schedule, you know.” Y/N scowled. His eyes closed, the scent of her perfume and body wash wafting through his nose. “Quinn, you have to let go.”
“Don’t wanna.” He grumbled, grabbing her hand and planting it over his head. Y/N sighed and yet, she was tangling her fingers into his tresses and scratching at his scalp. And really, she hated to admit it, but maybe it wasn’t entirely his fault that he was as spoiled as he was. She never seemed to really be able to fight against him, giving him exactly what he wanted no matter how many times she told herself not to.
“You’re so damn needy.” Y/N mumbled, slowly rubbing circles into his back as he sighed happily. She eyed the clock wearily, watching as the seconds ticked by and the minute hand moved slowly but surely until she was late just like she was every morning with him.
“No, I’m not.” Quinn murmured, and then his head tilted up and his lips tugged into a tiny pout as she pulled her hand away from his head. “Why’d you stop?”
“See?” Y/N snorted, pinching his nose affectionately. “Very needy.” Her hand moved to cup his face, rubbing a thumb over the swell of his cheek.
There was something satisfying about seeing someone like him pout as he pressed his face deeper into her palm, something that made her chest swell fondly as he closed his eyes and leaned into her touch, something that made him that much more human. Sometimes, Y/N almost didn’t think it was the same person. The man she’s watched shove sweaty bodies into the boards couldn’t be the one sprawled over her body right now, couldn’t be the one who whined for five more minutes of cuddles in the mornings as she was running late for work.
“Can’t you just call in sick?” Quinn grunted, plopping his head onto her chest, staring up at her as he propped himself up on his chin.
“No.” Y/N rolled her eyes. “You ask me this every morning. The answer is still the same.”
“If you loved me, you would.” He grumbled, glaring at her as she poked his curled lips with a giggle.
“Don’t I love you when I run late every morning for your extra cuddles?”
“Hardly.”
“You’re so ungrateful.” Y/N flicked his forehead, chuckling as he clicked his teeth and swatted her hand away. “I risk my job for you every damn morning.”
“You don’t need it.” He insisted. “I’ll take care of you, and you stay with me in the mornings. It’s a win-win, see?”
“I don’t think being stuck under you is a win.”
“Oh, yeah?” Quinn grinned, making her heart skip a beat. “But you never seem to complain when you’re under me.” He said cheekily. And he was unfair looking up at her in that handsome way he did, throwing her that lopsided smirk with a strand of hair loosely hanging across his face. Y/N trailed her thumb along his cheeks and across his nose, tracing over his lips and under the crinkles of his eyes. For a moment, she thought maybe he wasn’t the only one who’s needy. She thought maybe she needed him just as badly as he needed her, too.
“Quinn.” Y/N groaned, throwing him a dirty look as he snickered. “I really have to get up.”
“Just five more minutes.” He pleaded, flopping back onto her chest and snuggling against her, tucking his head under her chin. And when she kissed his forehead, he was sure he won just like always.
“You said that like twenty minutes ago.” She raised an eyebrow.
“This time for real.” Quinn mumbled. It was a lie, she knew it as well as he did, but she didn’t think it was a morning without him clinging to her body until she was more than a little late. So with a fond smile and a roll of her eyes, she wrapped her arms around him as she kissed the top of his head, pulling the blanket over his body as he sighed in content.
“You’re such a liar.” Y/N snorted, shaking her head as he smiled victoriously into her shirt.
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luveline · 2 days
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i would absolutely love a Hotch and stripper reader, him taking care of her after some kind of incident at her club or something? maybe a bit of angry hotch at the beginning, some angst? 💗💗💗
Your throat burns by the time his car pulls up. 
You take the butt of the cigarette from between your lips and ash it next to the first. Your hand is sore between the index finger and thumb from a bad stretch, aching as you press into your pocket for your stolen box of Marlboro golds. You’ll apologise for taking them some other time. 
You press the third between your lips and flick the lighter. You’re not good at lighting them, worse at the first inhale, your throat an agony that rivals the sting of your battered cheek. 
Shoes on the sidewalk, a scratch of loose gravel. Your eyes well with another line of tears that you work hard to hold in, taking another quick, cruel drag. They don’t make cigarettes long enough, in your opinion. They don’t last. 
He stops in front of you. Quiet, Agent Hotchner looks down at you where you’re sitting on the low wall, expression as steely as ever. You meet his eyes, worried your wobbly lip is giving you away, not sure calling him was the right thing to do after all. 
When he raises his hand to the cigarette you let him take it. His fingers wrap carefully around the butt of it, the side of his thumb brushing your lips. 
He flicks it to the ground and steps on it flat. 
You don’t say hello. It’s obvious you’ll cry, he can tell too, and he doesn’t make you. You wince as he raises his hand again, your eyes squinting closed, but he isn’t going to hurt you. His palm is warm where it cups your cheek, turning your face to the light emanating off of the club neons. 
“Do you know his name?” he asks. 
“No.” 
He raises your chin higher still. His frown turns to a glare, the brunt of which is directed elsewhere but intimidating all the same. His touching is gentle at least. 
“What happened?” 
“I told him no.” 
His jaw ticks. “Can I take you home?” 
You sniffle, turning your face out of his hand and down to your lap. He’s kissed you, he’s done more than that, but he knows you’d felt like you had no choice and so he’s giving it to you now. It’s exactly why you’d called him. It’s the man he is, and he should never have ended up looking after you. 
“Sorry I called you,” you say, hiding your face in one hand. Pain flickers behind your eyes as tears mount for the tenth time tonight. 
Hotch gives a sigh, sitting on the wall beside you. He wraps his arm behind your back and with a familiarity you need desperately. You press yourself into his side, sew your arm hesitantly over his stomach, the starch of a pressed shirt crisp on your clammy skin. 
“It’s cold out here,” he murmurs, bringing both hands to your arm, one to hold you tight, the other to rub your cool skin. 
“I think I want to quit.” 
He nods into the side of your head. “I think you should,” he says, “if that’s what you want… honey, you can do whatever you want.” 
“I don’t think I can. I’m trapped and it’s my fault.” 
“It’s not your fault.” He encourages your head under his, your face to his neck. When he talks, it’s a quiet, lulling promise. “You’re not trapped. I’ll do anything you need me to do. If you want an apartment, I’ll get it for you. If you want to shut this place down, I will. The last thing either of us want is for you to work here when you don’t want to.” 
“You don’t have to say work here like I’m not a glorified prostitute,” you say hotly, anger turned in rather than out. 
“You don’t really think that.”
Being a sex worker is complicated. You don’t know how you feel about it, and you can’t ever understand why Hotch would bother with you. You’d worried at first that your vulnerability is what attracted him, like a kid with a broken bird, but he’s proved a hundred times that your job is pretty much separate from why he likes you. He thinks you're pretty. He loves your voice. You make each other laugh, and somehow inexplicably he’s the first person you call when things go wrong. 
“Quit your job,” he says. “Even if it’s just to dance somewhere else.” 
“You can say strip.”
He nods. “You shouldn’t have to worry whether your ‘no’ will be met with a backhand. You know that breaks my heart?” 
You blink and pull away from him. He isn’t unemotional, but it’s a surprise nonetheless to hear him talk like this. “Aaron–” 
“Please,” he says. “I shouldn’t ask you to. But there are better places for you. You deserve more.” 
If it were anyone else you might get defensive. Only people who do your job could understand why you do it, it’s a hundred different things to you, but you do deserve more. You’re sick of leery men, sick of wolf whistles and bad tips and other people's hands. Hotch has never asked you to stop, but now he is, it’s to keep you safe. 
You can’t begrudge him. 
“I’m sorry,” you say. 
“No.” He rubs your arm. “I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve that. And I’ll make it right.” 
“It’s not your fault.” 
“I’ll make it right,” he promises. “No matter what. No one gets to hurt you.” 
You could quit. You want to. Even if it’s just for a couple of weeks, just so you don’t have to pretend you know what you’re doing. You’ll think about it in the morning. “Could I stay with you for a bit?” you whisper. “Just tonight. Please.” 
Hotch taps your back for you to stand. He stands with you, brushing down your coat, his eyes impassive where they look over your face, your purpling bruise. 
“You can wait in the car,” he says quietly. “I’m going to ask a few questions inside before we leave.” 
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nuitfilms · 2 days
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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀[ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝓥𝐈𝐄𝐖 ] anatchaya suputhipong
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␥ g!p natty x fem!reader ␥ 963 words 🚨 SMUT, praise, unprotected, hair pulling, potential exhibitionism/public, college!au, creampie, squirting ␥ you, the quiet student who minds her own business, gets persuaded to follow one of your problematic peers to the school rooftop.
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One thing about being the ‘quiet one’ is that you’re a fly on the wall to people’s conversations. Being the one who barely says a word allows you a peek into everyone else’s business.
Which is how you’re aware of the chaos and drama that happens between a group of two-faced nepo babies or two supposed ‘best friends’ where one is trying to take the other’s boyfriend away.
The drama proves that no one can be trusted, and that it’s best to mind your own business, learn the material, and graduate. But who knew that minding your own business could still lead you to trouble.
Natty, one of the many problematic peers you try to avoid, had approached you at the beginning of the week. As friendly as she was, you internally questioned why she would talk to you now when she has been in at least one class with you every semester. Nonetheless, you were certain that she just wanted to copy your work, and you couldn’t care enough to fight her off on it.
Except she didn’t want to copy off of you.
In fact, she didn’t want anything school-related from you.
A shallow thrust of her cock from behind pries your dripping cunt open and forces your chest up against the hard wall that you’re pinned against. You don’t know how you let her convince you to come up to the rooftop where any student could hear and see you but here you are, wrapped around Natty’s finger with your soiled panties tucked away in her pocket.
You whimper when she tugs at your hair, forcing your head back. Her laughter sends a chill down your spine as you’ve fallen prey to an attractive girl’s advances, but getting tangled up in bad business might—for once—be something you won’t regret. 
Clearly, because you’re no longer trying to escape.
“What a beauty.” Her breathy remarks fan over your neck, goosebumps pricking your sensitive skin. “I’ve always wanted to feel what it’s like being inside you.”
Her grip on your roots tighten, igniting a sense of pain and pleasure that threatens to buckle your knees and fall at her mercy. 
You’ve never thought of such a thing about anyone. You will acknowledge hot and beautiful women but never intended to jump on anyone for a piece of them. You’ve certainly never thought that anyone saw you in the same light. You may not be as observant as you thought you were.
But Natty gives off the vibe of someone who doesn’t stick around and makes moves on multiple women. You fully expect to be one of her many conquests, therefore not caring that this may be your only experience with her. You’re simply here in the moment, reveling in the way her cock makes you feel like there’s not enough room to spare. 
In the midst of the heat, she slides out, filling you with momentary despair as she spins you around to face her. With your back to the wall, she raises your leg over her shoulder. Your flexibility somehow exists and is tested but with lust still burning in the pit of your belly, you don’t feel any discomfort. Your ample wetness grants her cock easy access and you heave a relieved sigh as she resumes fucking you.
“What a pretty girl,” she boasts with a smirk as her pace tests your balance. “So pretty dripping for me like this.”
The mess between your thighs can’t be denied. After coming once on her fingers, you can feel another impending wave in the distance. Natty has acquired enough experience—be it through various women or a lot of alone time—to know how to touch you and make you come. You can sense the rise of her ego as your noises become louder and more frequent. With your cunt threatening to resist her, she’s fucking you harder, knocking your back against the hard wall with each thrust of her hips.
“Na-Natty,” you whine, one hand clawing on the back of your thigh and the other digging into the wall behind you for balance. 
Your legs begin trembling. The earth is taunting you below, ready to cushion a hard descent from the ecstasy that’s rushing through your limbs. Your eyes roll back as her thumb sneaks between both of your hips and flicks over your engorged clit. Just as you’re about to let out a shamelessly loud moan, the door to the rooftop slams open on the other side.
You immediately slap a hand over your mouth, but Natty doesn’t stop. She only grins and drills you harder. Whatever thought that crossed your mind is fucked out of you, and you suffer in the presence of your oblivious peers as you gush around her cock. You’re ready to slide down the wall but she keeps you propped up and uses you to her desire.
Each thrust forces spurts of your cum out, leaving your thighs and the cold hard ground in a messy puddle of your release. Your eyelids flutter open and you spectate Natty’s orgasm. Her hips stutter after she bottoms out inside you, stuffing you with a shallow thrust. Warmth floods your insides and your eyes roll back as she forces you to take it all in.
“God,” she grunts against your chest.
You hope that your peers don’t hear from the other side of the rooftop. That they don’t catch on to the ‘quiet one’ getting her brains fucked out by one of the sociable, troublemaking ones.
If word were to spread, you would have no choice but to transfer schools. But if that bridge needs to be crossed, you’ll do so when you get there. 
For now, you simply accept the white hot release that’s flooding and dripping out of you.
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eddiesxangel · 2 days
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Downhearted | E.M
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Cw: reader with bad mental health (depression/anxiety), bestfriend!Eddie x fem!reader, hurt/comfort, smut 18+ Eddie takes care of reader.
2.4k (this was suppose to be a blurb… oops)
Recently, you have been feeling very low, and despite your best efforts, you are struggling to get back to your usual self. However, your best friend Eddie has not given up on you. He has been by your side, trying to uplift your mood and bring back your smile, but nothing seems to work. Eddie has tried everything in his power to help you, from taking you out for lunch to watching funny movies together, but once you are on your own, everything seems to be crashing down on you even harder.
Your friend is worried about you and wants to see you happy again. He understands how challenging it is to deal with mental health issues and how it can affect your life. That's why he has come up with a last-ditch plan to lift your spirits and make you feel better. He hopes that this plan will work and bring a smile to your face once again.
To make things worse, you have been distancing yourself from your friends for weeks now, and you feel terrible about it. You feel like you're letting them down, especially Eddie, who has been there for you through thick and thin. He has come over at least three times a week since your mental health started to deteriorate again, and he has never given up on you.
This isn't the first time your mental health has plummeted, but this time, it's worse than ever before. You don't even have the energy to try and get better, and you feel like everything is falling apart around you. However, Eddie's unwavering support and his last-ditch plan to lift your spirits give you hope that things will get better soon.
Living alone didn’t help. You would go days without talking to someone, and that only made things worse. So Eddie made it his mission to be there for you. You’ve always been there for him; it’s the least he can do.
You haven’t left your bed today or all week. You’ve been on your phone all day but not really doing anything; you’re numb. Not even videos of kittens could make you feel anything.
You’ve been ignoring Eddie's pleas to help you. Text after text, his contact would pop up, but you paid no mind. So when you hear the knock on your door, you groan, knowing it’s him. You want to do anything but get up, but how could you leave your best friend standing out there? The thought made you sick to your stomach. You don’t deserve him. He’s too good to you, and all you do is bring him down with you.
As you sniffle back your tears and your inner demons, you wrap yourself in your blanket and pad your way slowly to the door.
You open it, and Eddie’s smile falls when he sees you. You haven’t looked at yourself in over a week, and you also haven’t showered in over a week. As Eddie takes in your state, a small, heartbroken “sweetheart” leaves his lips.
He felt so guilty for not being able to visit you last week. He’d been working doubles and was exhausted. Today was his first day off in six days, and he was so excited to spend time with you.
Your vision blurs as you see Eddie standing there with a bag of groceries with food, actual nutrition that you've been depriving yourself of, only aiding your demons.
He drops the bag and wraps his arms around your frail frame, and you break.
“I don’t know what's wrong with me?” Your voice cracks. You can’t remember the last time you spoke words aloud.
Your breath is shaky, and you tremble as you feel Eddie’s strong arms wrapped around you.
His familiar smell only calms you a little, but you’re so exhausted you can no longer hold it together.
He coos you and strokes your greasy hair, not caring how dirty it feels. He understands, he knows.
“Come, let’s get you feeling a little better, ok?”
“I can’t,” your voice shakes.
“Yes, I’ll be right here to help, okay?” He cups your face, gently forcing you to look into his eyes.
He walks you to the kitchen table, and he begs you to drink some water and eat the sandwich he brought over for you.
While you eat, you see Eddie unpack the groceries and then go to your room. A few minutes later, he comes out to throw your sheets in the washer and pulls a fresh pair from your linen closet.
You finish eating as much as you can when Eddie returns from making your bed.
Eddie coerced you to the bathroom. He helps you brush your teeth and convinces you to shower, not daring to joke about how you smell. You say you will as long as he stays in there with you.
Washing yourself was too much to do on your own. So he stood on the other side of the curtain, and you just stood there under the hot water, unable to move.
“Sweetheart? You doing okay?”
Your tears are camouflaged, but your gasps aren’t.
“N-no”
“Do… do you want me to help?” He cringes.
You don’t answer, and it worries Eddie. Had he overstepped? You were naked behind the thin material separating you.
Eddie waits for a few more beats; his heart is pounding. But he releases his breath when he sees your hand push the curtain aside to invite him in.
Nothing would be able to prepare him for the sight before his eyes. You had already started but didn’t get far; some soap suds had already been spread across your chest.
He tried hard to ignore how the blood flow immediately started flowing south. This was not the time to get a boner.
You watched how Eddie removed his shirt and pants in a daze. He kept on his boxers, but you could see the small tent forming.
You didn’t even care that you were naked in front of your best friend because you felt nothing.
You just wanted to feel something.
Eddie stepped in with you and pulled the shower curtain closed. It was so intimate; you and Eddie hadn’t been this close in this way before. But you trusted one another, and there was no awkwardness or hesitation once Eddie squeezed the shampoo in his hands and started.
I felt Eddie’s fingers massage your scalp, and it was nice. The last time someone took care of you like this was when you were a child when you were not old enough to do it yourself.
Eddie ensured that everything was rinsed properly, and then he moved on to the conditioner. He made sure to saturate all your hair before he took the loofa and your body wash.
Now this, was where Eddie got a little nervous. He didn’t want to overstep.
As you stood there, almost catatonic, he lifted your arms to get your armpits, then he ran the soap down your arms, across your back and down your legs, avoiding your more intimate areas.
“You think you can help me out, sweetheart?”
You slowly nod your head, and he passes you the saturated loofa.
Eddie watches as you run it across your chest, lifting a breast to get underneath. Eddie tries not to, but he can’t help but feel aroused. He tries to push it away, but the last thing he wants is to make you uncomfortable.
He knows you trust him; you’re asking him to help you in your darkest hour.
He shifts, trying to avoid your gaze; it’s only making things harder. Literally.
He pushes away those thoughts and makes sure you’re fully rinsed off. He turns off the water for you and goes to get your towel. He’s soaked, but he doesn’t care; your wellbeing will come first, even if he’s sprouting goosebumps along his flesh.
He takes your hand to guide you out of the tub. You feel slightly better, but it’s not enough.
When a thought pops into your head, you don’t care if it’s stupid, so you act on it without giving it any more thought.
You reach out and graze your hand over Eddie’s soaked boxers. They are taught to his skin, not hide anything, and you can see he’s ready and willing to go.
He steps back at the sudden touch.
“Please, Eddie, I need to feel something, anything. I don’t know what else to do” you sobbed.
As you stand there, feeling lost and alone, Eddie's embrace envelops you, pulling you in closer. In this moment, you know that you are not alone and that your friend is there to support you through thick and thin. Eddie's hug is so tight; he needs you to know that he would let nothing in the world hurt you. You close your eyes and breathe in deeply, grateful for your friend's unwavering support.
“Shhhhhh y/n, it’s okay. I have you.” He wraps the fluffy bath towel around your body, keeping you warm.
“Please Eddie”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes. I won’t let this change anything between us, I swear.”
“Okay, sweetheart. Okay,” he didn’t know if this was a good idea, but he had to do something to make you feel better; he would do anything for you; he would get the moon for you if there was a way. So he will do this for you.
He surprises you by lifting you up bridal style and carrying you to the bedroom. He's much stronger than you thought as he gently placed you down on your fresh sheets.
“Tell me if you want to stop, okay?”
“I promise, Eddie.” You nod.
Slowly, Eddie leans down to kiss you gently. The mint toothpaste still lingers on your breath. His lips feel so soft; it’s nice to be kissed.it's nice to be kissed by Eddie.
You feel his lips detach from yours, moving across your cheek and lowering your neck. The water from his hair trickled into your skin, making you shiver.
Eddie wanted to know your body, what made you tick, what made you moan, what made you needy with desire. He focused on the side of your neck and was proud when he found a spot that made you whimper.
“That okay, sweetheart?”
“Mmhmmm”
He could feel your chest rise and fall with heavy breaths. He could see he was getting you worked up the way you needed.
His timid fingers spread your legs wider so he could feel you and to Eddie’s surprise, you were still dry. He thought he would feel your slick as he slowly rubbed your pussy, but it wasn’t there.
“I uh- um. I don’t think you’re enjoying this.” he sits back, a bit defeated. This hasn’t happened to him before.
“It’s not you, Eddie; it’s me. I-I want to... You’re doing good; it’s just that sometimes girls need help if they’re like… this…”
“Oh,” Eddie understands, you're still in your head,” Eddie understands, you.
“I have lube and condoms in the nightstand”
Eddie reaches over you to grab it. The crack of the hard plastic lid is so loud in the silent room that you flinch a little.
“Sorry”
“It’s okay,” you whisper. Suddenly you’re very aware you’re naked in front of your best friend, but that is brushed to the side when you feel his slippery fingers make contact with your pussy once again.
“Ohhhh,” you breathe in.
Eddie smirks and leans in to kiss you once again. You feel his tongue slick its way past your lips; who knew he was such a good kisser.
Slowly, minute by minute, you’re actually feeling something—pleasure. Eddie brings you back to life with each touch, brush, and kiss.
“Eddie,” you moan as his fingers slip inside you.
“Yes, sweetheart?”
“More,” you pant.
You don’t have to tell him twice. He will do anything to make you feel better, which seems to be working. He rips open the condom, and you surprise him by reaching up to cup his balls. He gasps, and a smirk spreads across your face for the first time in weeks.
“I knew there was a little freak you were hiding from me.” Eddie laughs, and he pulls one out of you as well. His heart swells when he hears the sound leave your lips.
“There’s my girl,” so much relief is behind his eyes.
“Hi, Eddie.” You look up at him like he’s given you all the stars in the sky.
“You still want to do this?”
“Yes.”
“Okay,” he brushes your wet hair behind your ear and softly kisses you. It becomes needy quickly, and desperation takes over both of you.
It didn’t matter that you were only best friends, that you weren’t okay, that he was in just as much pain as you were. All that mattered was one another, two physical entities in your own little world. Your mind was completely erased; for a moment, you finally forgot everything weighing down on you.
Eddie continues to kiss you as he guides himself in slowly. You can’t help but take a deep breath as he pushes his way in.
As Eddie entered you, you melted into his touch. Nothing could have made you feel this good. He was consuming every inch of your being. With every brush, every thrust, every nip, kiss and bite, you were coming alive again.
Eddie’s hands travel all along your body, squeezing your breasts, tweaking your nipples, making you twitch and grind up into Eddie’s touch. Your hips are ungulate with his, and your moments become one as you and Eddie perform the perfect dance.
The past picks up faster and faster. Eddie brushes the spot inside you every single time, and you’re crying out his name.
Eddie can’t believe he’s making you feel this good, this wanted. His beautiful best friend was here helping you, holding you, and doing this for you.
“Eddie, please”
“Let go, baby”
The pet name accidentally slipped past his lips and didn’t go unnoticed. It only aided your orgasm to come that much quicker.
A wave of pleasure crashed over you as it washed through your whole body without warning.
Eddie watched as he was the one who made your body quiver, to make your eyes roll back, to have you silently screaming for him. He couldn’t hold on anymore, either. Your cunt clamped down so tightly on his cock he shook as he spilled into the condom.
His sweaty body collapses on you, and the only thing you can hear is your erratic breaths.
“Thank you, Eddie,” you sniffle, and Eddie quickly pops his head up because you’re crying once again.
“Baby, please don’t cry. I can’t take it anymore.” he holds your face, wiping away your tears with his thumbs.
“No, it's- it's happy tears; you helped me feel something. I thought I was broken. Thank you, Teddie.”
“I’ll always be here for you; I love you, sweetheart."
You didn’t care if he only meant platonically or romantically; he was your person forever and always.
“I love you too.”
Tagging some mooties!: @nailbatanddungeon @taintedcigs @hellfirenacht @littlexdeaths @andvys @rebelfell @xxbimbobunnyxx @rowanswriting @voyeurmunson @asimpforthe80s @mmunson86 @slutty-thevampireslayer @strangerstilinski
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grimm-writings · 2 days
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Hey! Can I request a falin x reader where reader is a lone researcher in the dungeon and stumbles into chimera falin and the two fall in love?
Maybe Like a 5 times the reader has met chimera falin and 1 time the two get to meet after she’s turned back type story?
beauty/beast
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…ft! falin x gn! reader
…tags! 5+1 format, reader is like slightly unhinged, fluff with moments of angst, slight suggestiveness
…wc! 2789
…notes! grimm tries not to come off as a monsterkisser for nearly 2.7k words, the fic,,,, hope you enjoy!!!! i love chimera falin so bad… 
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One
You can’t say you didn’t ask for this.
It’s a death sentence to traverse into a dungeon on your own, especially with your lack of combat skills.  If you were sane, you’d have hired a bodyguard to help take down monsters you couldn’t handle.  Fortunately, you are not, and decided instead you could very well handle monsters in a pacifistic way.
Any companion you told this to chose to stare at you like you admitted to dark magic.
So, you’ll simply prove the nay-sayers wrong!  After all, how hard can it be to tame some monsters?
Very hard, actually.  Like… incredibly.
You had to pride yourself in how you managed to sweet-talk some petty thieves for advice on monsters in the floor you’re currently on, even how to avoid orcs!  At least that much is out of the way.
As for fighting, well, sometimes a very sharp slap to the head with a book, or even the sharp tip of a pen can subdue anyone, if just to give you enough time to run.
Besides, blood makes for some extra ink if you just happened to come by a dead body!
Going purely on efficiency alone, you’re doing tremendous work!  When it comes to your study?  Not so much.
The purpose of coming all the way down here is that you have a very specific urge.  That being, to tame a beast.  Some researchers gained the will to try and do the same to elemental spirits, why not other monsters?
One of the most common rebuttals you receive is that monsters are animals, they can’t be tamed at all, and you shouldn’t even try lest you want your head bitten off.  Considering thus far you only got bitten by a walking mushroom, you think you’re doing rather well!  (You did take an hour to contemplate to yourself how a walking mushroom seemingly has teeth, though.)
That brings you now later to the fourth floor, trying to shield your notes from the water as you lament losing more ink.  Sure, you might write a little bit more than should be necessary, but you surely can’t be out already!
So, delight fills you as you peer past a doorway to see the top half of a woman face down on the floor.  Haha, you can likely drain her pretty easily for some ink!  Looks fresh enough, and some patches of her are already damp with red!
You skip over, humming as you do so, when all at once the woman jerks and looks up at you.  Her golden eyes pierce your own, making you freeze in place.  You wonder if something had gotten mixed up and a succubus ended up making its way to an upper floor, when the walls of the small tower the woman is inhabiting collapses.
A chimera screeches at you, as if telling you to leave it alone.  If you weren’t so awestruck, you would have tried to shush it, lure it towards you and petted its oddly human head.  Alas, you let the chicken-legged thing go, finding a safe haven for itself.
Day 1: I have found a beast in its purest form. I must pursue it. I must tame it.
Two
‘Obsession’ would be putting your experience lightly.
You had never wanted to gaze upon a monster as much as you wished to see the chimera again.  Unique is its proportions, the lower body of a dragon and the torso and head of an adult tallwoman.
To anyone else, its face must be more of a lure.  With the prettiest face and… great assets to boot, like a fish drawn to an angler fish's light, a blindsided adventurer comes near.
You had tried to navigate where the beast has gone, observing the damages of certain areas to lead you closer to it.
Thoughts course through your mind like speckles of a daydream as you walk and walk and walk, trying to sneak past other enemies and adventurers as you do so.  What would its feathers feel like?  Is it different from the mop of blonde hair on its head?  You didn’t get the chance to observe its eyes – are they human or monster?  What of its body heat?  What is its diet?
Ah.  Diet.
Your own body stops walking in realisation.  By all means, comparing their mouth to the rest of their body, it’s ultimately impossible for the chimera to have a stable diet in this dungeon, correct?
Perhaps… you need to make a lure of your own.
Even after days of navigating the dungeon, you still have plenty of rations from the surface remaining in your bag.  Hopefully the chimera likes the most noble meal one can fit inside a lunchbox — meats and pasta with the richest sauce.  One could say your taste in meals is unique, eliciting a morbid curiosity.  If the beast is more in tune with its human side, it will react the same.
You don’t know what tempted you to arrange a table with two chairs on either side.  It’s not like the chimera could fit, but it was only suitable for your first formal meeting with it!  Oh, how you can’t wait to observe it eating, and so close…!
If you’re lucky, it may even attempt to taste you.
You promptly shake off the thought.
What you focus on now is to draw the chimera near.  It seems to favour secluded areas, but has been seemingly chased around.  Aw, is it scared of humans?  That’s just adorable!  Or, maybe, it’s resting before setting off on a search…  Now that’d be some juicy stuff!  Who’s the chimera’s prey?  Another monster, or humans?
Oh, of course you’ll use yourself as bait.  You’re not a coward!
You know basic enough spells that you won’t be entirely drained of mana upon use, lighting up a route to catch the chimera’s attention upon spotting it.  Down you lead it, making yourself look as bright and delectable as possible, before sitting in your seat, your meal readily prepared for the chimera.
You smile up at her as she pokes at the food you prepared, and she begins to eat.
Day 3: The beast was very hungry upon encounter.  Even when she finished the meal, she insisted on having something more.  I complied, and soon I had emptied my entire share of rations.  The chimera eats food made for humans easily. This elicits curiosity – it might be proof enough that the chimera’s existence in this dungeon is unnatural.  Even now, it looks too… human.  I feel uncomfortable now referring to the beast as such – an ‘it’. Thus, I will refer to the chimera as ‘she’ from here on.  It suits her.  She truly is magnificent.   All signs point to her being an attempt at creating a ‘beast-kin’, but instead of using the soul of a monster and body of a human, it’s as if it’s a mesh of both.  A disgustingly beautiful transformation.  To compare, it is not dissimilar to the breeding of a pug.  Deliberately done to appease someone, something.  A selfish birth. Someone must be wanting to do the same as I to the chimera – tame her to their whims. …I’ll have to look further into this.
Three
You feel less in control of your studies these days.
The more you hang around the dungeon, scavenging for food and following your muse, the more insane you feel.  But, for the sake of research, you power through.
The chimera, she has been opening herself up to you.  When she gets anxious, her feathers ruffle, and you shush her with pets.  She calms down occasionally.  Once, you had encountered her, blood on her body and under her fingernails.  You cleaned her using the mana-infused water.  She had never looked so calm.
She doesn’t feel like a monster you have tamed, but a friend.
This scares you.
Sure, there’s the possibility that the chimera is an unnatural phenomenon, and isn’t even a monster.
But that also means you’re losing your resolve.
The chimera sits with you, as you scrub her red-scaled talons free of dirt and blood.  Her upper body leans on you, resting.  You can even hear little chirps slipping from her lips.
She’s so cute.
Even as her golden eyes soften, the small slits in them dilating to exhibit relaxation, she smiles at you.  You don’t flinch when her hands take your face to look at you.  She’s a bird after all – she might be trying to memorise you, how you look, so she knows not to hurt you in the future.
You were nearly about to reminisce on your further embarrassment when the chimera speaks.
Four words.  She spoke four words in the common language, leaving you staring at her.  You’re speechless.  She must know that she’s caught you off guard as she slowly tucks your hair behind your ear and moves away.
The moment is quickly ruined.  “Dragon!”  A boyish voice calls.  “There you are.  You’ve been leaving my side so frequently.  There’s no time to–”
An elf in a cloak freezes upon noticing you.  His heavy eye bags rival your own as he glares down at your sitting position.
You don’t do anything, merely looking up at your friend in confusion.  She is back to being silent again, reaching her arms out to the elf, as if about to pick him up.  He swats at her, before pointing at you.
“Kill them,” he demands her.
She hesitates.  You also find yourself unable to move.  So the chimera is under someone’s control after all.  This elf, forcing you apart from your friend.
You hardly process your friend lifting you off the floor, her fingers closing in around your throat.  Tighter and tighter.  Your eyes can barely make out her empty expression as she squeezes the life out of your lungs.
Snap.
You fall onto the floor, and the mad mage leaves with his dragon in tow.
Day ??: “My name is Falin.” The chimera told me this last time we encountered one another.  She has a name.  A beautiful name that belongs just to her.  Falin. …I would say ‘my Falin’, but she is not.  She is under the control of that elf.  I wouldn’t want her to be my Falin anyway. She shouldn’t belong to anyone. I was revived by a kindly Eastern woman, who is accompanying a group of retainers following their lord.  They are joined by another party, also recently revived. Apparently, in my revival, I had uttered her name, “Falin,” and captured the attention of the malnourished lord. He is looking for her. …I was informed she is his love. Pushing personal feelings aside, I asked to come along.  I neglected to mention Falin’s current state.  I couldn’t do that to him right now.  Maybe once he sleeps, or eats… but not now. Falin, I wish to save you.  That is my goal now. You are not a monster to be tamed.
Four
Today, you met Laios Touden.
He is Falin’s older brother, you learn.
You met a lot of people, actually.  You met Falin’s party, an elf who Falin went to school with, as well as Laios Touden.
“You’ve seen Falin?”  He asks you, brow creased.  He had leaned forward in interest.  Lord Toshiro, Kabru, and Asebi were also listening to you with intrigue.
You nod.  “Yes, but I fear the situation might be a little more than you have bargained for,” you vaguely inform.
Your words would be interrupted by Laios’ request to talk privately with Toshiro, to which you comply.  You do already have a feeling of what's being said, something Kabru seems to pick up on as he glances over at you.
“Falin… isn’t faring well, is she?”
“Not in the traditional sense,” you reply.  Kabru grimaces, clearly not appreciating your rather… erratic way of conversing.  You add before he could talk back, “she’ll come back for me.”
Kabru furrows his brow.  “Excuse me?”
His question remains unanswered until you are swept up in a heated battle.  Looks of horror cross everyone’s faces at the bloody acts committed by the chimera.
You merely smile.
“Hello beauty,” you whisper when she turns to you.  Falin steps forward, cornering you.  You welcome her with open arms – and the world becomes dark again.
Day ??: Scorned though I may be by Lord Toshiro, I know myself not to be mad, but in love. Yes, I am in love.  I know this now for certain. I know that he, too, is in love.  I do not see his wishes badly.  In fact, from a sane man’s mouth, it is perfectly understandable.  Dark magic is dangerous.  As is love.  He’s risking his own reputation for it, even if others don’t appear to see things the way he does. But when push comes to shove, I am not that sane man.  I am joining Laios Touden’s party in the retrieval of Falin. The aftermath of the battle consisted of a hearty meal.  Who knew monsters could taste so nice?  Keep this in mind for the next adventure. I had figured this all came from the result of black magic.  Marcille Donato is a much more interesting woman than I thought.  I’m sure I could learn a lot from her. Hence, we march forward.  I know you aren’t in your right mind, Falin, but trust that I am. I will risk it all for you, beauty.
Five
The ice is cold underneath your fingertips.  The woman encased inside is relaxed, as if she’s merely asleep.  To see her completely separated from the lower half of the chimera body was something uncanny to you, so used to seeing her towering over you, able to squash you like a bug.
You turn to Marcille as she approaches.  “You had the right mind, keeping her fresh like this.  Deep down, you really did want to follow through with the plan!”
The blonde elf is sheepish.  “I did end up causing a right mess in the end.  It… It was selfish of me.”
“It was love,” you reply.
“Not the love Falin needs, though,” she finishes.
You both stare up at her in silence.  If you were delusional enough, you could swear you could see Falin breathing.
“I love her,” you admit, quieter than you have ever been.  “Is that alright with you?”
Marcille turns to you, her eyes wide.  For such a gossip, she really hasn’t picked up on it?
“I…”  She hesitates.  Her hands reach her trousers, and she scrunches up the fabric in her hands.  “It’s not my choice what – or who – Falin chooses.  I don’t think I have the right to decide anything for her.”
You nod, graciously taking Marcille’s word to heart.
You feel you’ve also changed throughout your journey.  Volatile as you may be, you appreciate Falin as she is.  An untamed beauty.  Not for anyone to claim or put their ideals onto.
She’s simply Falin.
“Come on,” Marcille takes your hand.  She has the kind of look on her face where you know she accepts you readily.  “Let’s go eat, okay?  For Falin.”
You smile back.  “For Falin.”
I don’t care about the day anymore. Falin is being revived today.  Soon, I’ll have a chance to meet the real her.  The beauty behind the beast. Ha.  I haven’t called her that for a while. Maybe I’ll follow Toshiro’s way and propose immediately too?  No, Marcille may accept me, but that might result in another need for revival. I can’t wait to get to know you.
the first time
Falin opens the door with a dazed expression, not expecting the crowd waiting around the door.  Of course, this resulted in quite the hoo-ha.  People running around, celebrating the successful revival of Falin Touden.  You wait patiently for you to be welcomed once more.
The woman is sitting calmly at her bed.  Some of her features are still feathered, but you’ve always liked how they felt underneath your fingertips.
She glances up at you, examining your form.
You’re taller than she thought.
“Hi,” you say, handing over a random blade of grass you picked.
Falin takes it.  Her fingers brush against your own.  She starts twirling the natural green between her fingers.  She smiles warmly.  “Hello,” her soft, tired voice returns.  It’s so sweet that you might melt.  “My name is Falin.  It’s nice to meet you.”
You know from the way she glances up at you that she already remembers you quite well.
Feeling the happiest you’ve ever been, you fall into Falin, pulling her into the tightest of hugs.
“It’s so wonderful to meet you too, beauty.”
Today, she asked me if she could belong to me. I said yes, but only if she belonged to herself first. She accepted.
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suashii · 3 days
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kuroo + making dinner ノ a late night snack wif him in a college au ? i hope ur week treats u well bbie <3
such a cute suggestion — thank u for sending it! hopefully u enjoy :3
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you’re usually better about not leaving a mess by the door when you return to your apartment, but tonight is different. you can’t help but messily kick off your shoes and shed your book bag in the growing pile at the entrance. after a long, draining study session, you can’t be bothered to keep a clean house at the moment. anyway, once you catch sight of your carelessness in the morning, you’re sure you’ll be rushing to pick things up.
“hmm,” you hum, stretching your arms above your head. the action feels good after being stuck in a chair for the past few hours and it seems like now that you’re home, just within reach of your bed, the exhaustion is finally catching up to you. “to eat or to sleep…” you ponder over your choices.
“i vote for the former.” kuroo chimes in from behind you. he replicates your movements, dropping his bag and stretching a bit before he turns and makes his way to the kitchen. “food is fuel, you know,” he tells you matter-of-factly.
“yeah, well, so is sleep. and that sounds like it’ll take a lot less energy than eating.”
he snorts at your reasoning as he surveys the contents of the refrigerator. it’s more bare than he remembers it being—the two of you are past due for a trip to the grocery store. still, he doesn’t let that stop him from trying to convince you to stay up just a little longer for a meal. “fair, but we skipped dinner. you should try to stomach something small at the very least.”
your bed is calling your name, you can hear its tempting whispers from down the hall, but you sigh and nod, joining kuroo in the kitchen to find a replacement for the dinner you missed in favor of reviewing powerpoints. the task seems like a tall one when you get a look in the fridge.
“what do you suggest?” you ask from beside him, “loose lunch meat doesn’t sound too bad.”
he laughs and pinches your arm at your unserious approach, which earns him a pinch back for ever daring to pinch you. 
“what about ramen?” kuroo proposes, lifting an arm to open the cabinet that holds your shared supply of noodles. unsurprisingly, there’s quite a selection of instant ramen at your disposal. “we’re never short on that.”
you take a few seconds to consider it before agreeing—something quick and warm should be satisfying enough.
“take your pick.” kuroo gestures to the multiple differing packages and you point at one—your favorite brand—for him to pull down. he grabs that and one for himself, closing that cabinet and opening the one that houses your pots. the kitchenware clangs loudly as they knock against each other but kuroo doesn’t seem to mind as he juggles the two, carrying them to the sink to fill them with water.
you busy yourself with opening the colorful packages and fishing out the seasoning packs while kuroo brings the pots of water to a boil. other than the gas from the stove and the occasional rustling  of  plastic, a still quiet falls over the kitchen. it’s far from tense or awkward and there’s a beauty that comes with it—being able to enjoy the company of someone without having to share words. and it isn’t lost on you how kuroo tries to take on the bulk of the work, emptying flavor packs and stirring the contents before you get the chance to grab the chopsticks.
he even pours the noodles into your preferred bowl and takes it over to your tiny dining table for you.
“i would have eaten this straight from the pot, you know,” you tell him, sliding into the chair and picking up your utensils to dig in. 
he’s known you long enough to be able to read between the lines of your speech—what you really mean to say is that he made extra dishes that you have no intention of washing. it makes him smile on the other side of the table. “i can handle the dishes.”
“don’t worry, i’ll help you,” you say in between bites. you hold his gaze, blowing on the noodles hanging from your chopsticks. “as long as we do it in the morning.”
he swallows a bite of his own. “deal.”
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bumblekastclips · 9 hours
Text
KYLE CROUSE: Alright, we got one last question. It’s from JediPony. [chuckles] Love that name, I don’t know why. It makes me laugh. [reading question] “How would you write an 06 adaptation in Sonic X?” Here’s the question, would you write the 06 adaptation in Sonic X the show, or Sonic X the comic?
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IAN FLYNN: [laughs] KYLE: It’s very— two very different things. IAN:Very different things. I don’t know, if we’re gonna be true to the source material, then Elise doesn’t really have a role, and Chris is the one who has the Flames of Disaster sealed inside him. KYLE: [laughing] Oh no! Oh! IAN: “Chris, whatever you do, you can’t cry!” [as Chris, weepily] “But why?!” [Iblis roar] KYLE: It’s all he does! [laughs] No! IAN: Oh, man, now I’m imagining Mephiles with, like, that really bad early 2000s CG effect. All these awful filters flyin’ around. KYLE: Oh, God, no! [laughing] This would be awful. IAN: You’d have, like, the budget episodes where Soleanna and New City are just, like, these flat, grey urban textures that have like, no depth, but then you get to the final episode where they’re doing the Super fight against Solaris, and the animation bump goes through the roof, and it’s glorious. And you forgive the last 26 episodes of your life that you’ve wasted watching it so far. KYLE: Mhm. IAN: [choking the words out through high pitched, wheezing laughter] This means Chris is the one that kisses Sonic back to life! [fit of maniacal laughter] KYLE: [frantic, horrified laughter] No! No! No! No! Ian, no! Ian! No! IAN: [prolonged cackling laughter] KYLE: The worst timeline! Oh, no! IAN: Oh, and Eggman has to be as close as they can get him to photorealistic Eggman in the Sonic X style. KYLE: No! IAN: Which does not work at all! KYLE: No, no, no! No! This is not going on the thumbnail! No! IAN: [wheezing laugh] KYLE: No, do not put this on the thumbnail! [laughing] IAN: Oh, my goodness, just imagine the art errors for Silver’s head alone… KYLE: Oh… no… oh, no… at least Dan Green could still be the voice of Mephiles. IAN: Oh, yeah, that’d be fantastic. [microphone glitches] That’s the only reason to do this. KYLE: That would be— yeah. Oh… IAN: Oh, would they try to hand-animate Omega? Or would he be like, early 2000s CG? KYLE: Just crappy CG, no! IAN: That you just composite into each shot… oh, man, it’d be awful! KYLE: [pained sound not unlike he is receiving a fully conscious appendectomy] Oh! IAN: Wait! [microphone glitches again] They did the weird thing with Sonic and Shadow’s spines when they would turn their heads. What would Silver look like?! KYLE: [resigned groan] IAN: Would it just be like, one giant spine, depending on the angle? [bursts into laughter] KYLE: [groans as if he is dying] Ian… what are you doing… why are you— IAN: [microphone glitches again as if resisting] The Iblis monsters would have the terrible CG effects, too! KYLE: Why am— why am I the reasonable one!
IAN: [laughs] KYLE: Why am I the one who’s being… [gives up on finishing this sentence] IAN: Forget the comic, the comic can’t hold a candle to this idea! KYLE: Oh, no… IAN: [in awe] What a glorious trainwreck! KYLE: What’s even funnier is that your mic is trying to stop you. IAN: [cackles] KYLE: It’s not working. [laughs] So cursed! IAN: The whole thing would be so awful… KYLE: Yeah? IAN: But then there would be, like, this incredibly well-written and poignant subplot about Elise dealing with her emotional trauma, and how Soleanna as a country even works. And it’s like, maybe an episode, maybe two that really gets into it and fleshes out this world in a meaningful and robust manner. KYLE: [chuckles] Yeah. IAN: And that’s it. That’s like— that and Dan Green are the only redeeming things out of this season. KYLE: [sigh, reading chat] Ian, in the chat… IAN: Yeah. KYLE: In the Bumblekast Discord server, open it up. There’s a little piece of art there. Someone has, uh, sketched Silver. [chuckles] IAN: [seeing it, delighted, evil] Yes! KYLE: [laughing] IAN: Cursed Toucan Sam! KYLE: [cackles] Oh no! Why do you…? No! Awful! Toucan— IAN: [as Silver] “Just follow my nose, wherever it goes!” KYLE: [horrified, amused] Toucan Silver! No! [emits the world’s most drawn-out, pained cry of defeat] IAN: Psycho-beak-nesis! KYLE: [laughing] Bumblekast was a mistake! IAN: [laughs] It was, but at least we’re over with it for today. KYLE: [laughing] Oh… I guess so.[outro music fades in]
EPISODE THUMBNAIL by the incredible @nintendoni-art
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—— TRANSCRIBER’S NOTE: Please remember that nothing that is said on BumbleKast is canon! It’s just some guys and their opinions occasionally spitballing ideas. If you don’t like an answer, you don’t have to take it as Word of God or anything like that. It’s all just for fun!
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ludicdoll · 3 days
Note
hello! been obsessed with your work! (I think I already read all archie madekwe x reader fics from you tbh). Been sobbing over Lizzy McAlpine's song Vortex. And I couldn't stop imagining Farleigh x reader who is in an on and off again relationship. Reader tries to stop herself from going back every time he's at her doorstep begging. But always fails. And it's just sad. LMAO
𝐌𝐈𝐃𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐑
farleigh start ☆
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pairing: farleigh start x fem!reader
contents: angst, mentions of sex, slut calling, farleigh being a little bitch, reader is also an american, smoking, suggestive at the end but no smut, kinda toxic
synopsis: although your relationship with farleigh is complicated, you can’t help but run back to him every time he needs you.
a/n: this is so late im sorry i’ve been so busy and this has been sitting in my drafts for a while😭
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there’s something so alluring about farleigh that makes you chase him constantly—even if he pays no attention to you. you long for his approval, his touch, and in his absence you realize you can’t seem to function correctly without him. your relationship with farleigh is complex, to say the least, and everybody around you knows this. whenever you would tell felix that you and farleigh had split up again, he always replied with “give it a week.” and somehow, he’s always right. but, this one was different. you split up with farleigh a few weeks ago and he hasn’t even tried to make an attempt to contact you. he knew you’d come back around sooner or later, but you were persistent on keeping your ground.
your breakup with farleigh was because he had called you a slut, just straight up—which was quite ironic because he was the known campus whore. usually you would ignore his silly and childish name calling, but you hated him calling you a slut, it was too degrading for you. you remember the way farleigh blew up in your face when you told him the two of you were over, it was a priceless expression. now, you’re currently standing outside of the saltburn estate, leaning up against one of the large extravagant stone pillars. felix was hosting a party tonight, a big one at that. the colorful flashing lights can be seen outside, a neon cast over the large grassy field.
you decide to step out for a smoke and some fresh air after you locked eyes with farleigh as he was dancing with a girl, her hips grinding against his. that image alone made you shiver in disgust. although you had broken up with him, you missed him bad. you tried to deny it, but if you had to be honest with yourself—you didn’t know who you were without farleigh. if only he would give you a genuine apology, everything would be fine but his pride stopped him from doing so.
you turn your head when you hear the grand doors behind you creaking open. you watch as felix stumbles out, his dark brown hair disheveled from the party. you’re surprised to see him since he had vanished halfway through the party with some random girl you presume. felix turns, a surprised expression on his face. you look over at him, smiling weakly as you raise your cigarette to your lips.
he stands by the door for a minute, stretching his neck before walking over to you. “what are you doing out here?” he asks. felix scans your appearance, eyes widening when he spots a bottle of vodka in your hands, the same bottle that mysteriously disappeared a few hours ago. you shrug slightly, tired and feeling nauseous from the amount of drinks you’ve had tonight. “you missing the states?” felix nudges at your arm playfully. you stare ahead, shaking your head. “i just needed to clear my mind,” you mutter as you lift the bottle to your mouth, taking a long gulp. felix notices that you’re out of it, and he looks concerned. “you haven’t been yourself.” he starts, “ever since farleigh—” you raise your hand out, your palm facing him. “don’t. mention. him.” you groan, rubbing your temples to soothe your migraine.
“he misses you,” felix smiles widely. you stare at the red cups littered on the paved ground, slowly zoning out. “we’re not talking.” you reply, he sighs in return. “well, he wouldn’t stop talking about you in professor anderson’s class.” you turn to look at him, raising a suspicious brow. you think he’s joking at first, but his face is completely straight.
“really? i didn’t know the two of you even attended classes.” you joke in an attempt to move the topic elsewhere. “oh, ha ha.” felix replies sarcastically. there’s so many things racing through your mind, but at the same time—your thoughts are empty. you think that the alcohol from tonight has made you more sensitive. “i don’t like it when you guys fight.” felix mutters as he slowly takes your bottle away from your grip. “you should stop drinking too,” he waves the half empty bottle in front of your face.
“it’s not a fight, felix. it’s a breakup.” felix scoffs, shaking his head with a laugh. you turn to look at him, a scowl on your face. “oh, so you think i’m gonna run back to him?” you ask in a bitter tone. he steps back a little, blinking at your unexpected tone switch. “what? i didn’t say anything.” he says defensively. you suddenly feel irritated at everything around you. you excuse yourself abruptly while he tries to explain himself. you speed past him, leaving felix by himself outside while you open the doors to the mansion.
ੈ✩‧₊˚
you can’t stop fidgeting with your pen, clicking it rapidly as you scan the words in the open book in front of you. you were sitting in the library, not for the sake of studying but for the sole purpose of distracting yourself from having a mental breakdown in your dorm. you couldn’t even think straight since your hangover was so bad. you hadn’t tried to dress up today, you didn’t even bother to put on makeup or fix up your hair. you knew people would see you and talk, but you were so tired you couldn’t do it. usually when you and farleigh would split, you’d still be in close contact with your (who were really just his) friends. however, this was different. everyone seemed to be avoiding you—everyone except felix. whenever you’d ask to hang out, their only excuses were “i have to study,” or, “i’m busy tonight,” and when they see you, they’d scurry off in a blink of an eye.
you could only imagine what bullshit story farleigh has came up with your break up to make them run away from you. felix was the only person who still spoke to you, but now you think you’ve lost him after what had happened at the party last night. you stop clicking your pen when you hear a cough in front of you. you look up, freezing up when you see a familiar curly haired boy in front of you. “fancy seeing you here.” he says. you scoff, rolling your eyes and avoiding his gaze. he laughs quietly to himself before crossing his arms. “i didn’t know you studied.” he emphasizes the word “studied” almost like he was attempting to mock you—but he knew you did study, he just wanted to make fun of you. “i didn’t know you even knew what a library was.” you snap back instantly, farleigh just smiles blankly at you as he pulls a chair out and seats himself right across from you.
“what do you want?” you ask sternly. he sighs, shrugging. a tense silence fills the air and you’re slowly suffocating. “i’m serious, farleigh.” he stays quiet, his eyes still on you. “what did you tell the others?” you inquire.
“hmm?”
“no one’s talking to me anymore.”
“that’s not true,” he laughs, “felix was just talking to you last night.” you squint at him, brows furrowed. “were you watching us?” you ask. farleigh tilts his head to the side, flashing a deadpan expression. “please, i have better things to do.” he replies arrogantly. you nod, closing your eyes. “i’m sure you do.” you look back down to read the words on the page, not taking in any of the information—but just so farleigh would piss off. you could still see him in your peripheral vision, but this time he’s leaned closer against the table. “get a life, farleigh.” you mumble under your breath. he laughs dully, a small smirk forming on his lips. “that is rich coming from you. you really like assuming shit, don’t you?”
“well maybe if you took my name out of your mouth, i wouldn’t be assuming.” you reply nonchalantly as you close the book, standing up to leave. you pack your stuff back in your bag, turning away from him. he mouths a quiet “wow” before getting up from the chair as well, following closely behind you. he swiftly steps in front of you, blocking you from leaving. he leans closer to you, just inches away from your face. “you think you’re all that,” he starts. “but in reality, you’re just a fucking whore with no personality.” you quietly wince at his response, eyes wide. “you’re lucky that i even gave you a fucking chance. i made you known, and this is how you repay me?” farleigh spits out, he sounds truly angry—you’ve never heard him like this before. “but it’s fine,” he says while leaning back up, “such a shame, you’re a pretty face. too bad you’re boring.”
you can’t muster up a snappy comeback, you just stare at him, scanning his face for any sign of empathy—but there’s nothing. he just looks distant and cold. you glance around, realizing there was a few students nearby listening. you sniffle under him, blinking away your tears as you quickly brush past his arm.
ੈ✩‧₊˚
it hurts to pretend like you don’t care about what other people said about you, because in actuality you take all of their words into consideration—especially farleigh’s. you had successfully avoided farleigh all week ever since the conversation in the library, and in an attempt to make yourself feel better, you had finally started dressing and glamming up. of course, there was still rumors going around about you and farleigh, every day it seemed like there was a new bizzare one. you had just came back from shopping, sitting on the carpet of your dorm. it was getting dark, everyone else in the hall was getting ready for bed. as you slowly dive into a wormhole of your own thoughts, the sound of an abrupt knock on your door brings you back to reality. you blink, turning your head to look at the door.
you choose to ignore it, pretending like you weren’t there. then, another string of knocks pound on your door loudly. “oh my god, i’m coming!” you yell out as you get up from the floor. you pad over, opening it with an unenthusiastic swing. the person standing infront of you was the last person you expected—farleigh. you almost screamed when you saw him standing there. you groan loudly and roll your eyes, immediately reaching to shut the door on him. before you could lock him out, farleigh stops the door with his hand. “can we talk?” he mutters with his head low, almost as if he was afraid someone was going to hear him. you stand still in the crack of the door, contemplating whether or not you were gonna let him in. farleigh whines, shaking his head slightly.
“please?”
you sigh in defeat, slowly creaking the door open for him. he gives you a small smile before sliding through. he looks around your room for a second, taking in every aspect of your interests plastered on the walls. farleigh sits down on the edge of your bed, realizing he’s never actually seen your dorm before. whenever the two of you would fuck, it was always in his dorm, a random bathroom at the pub, or somewhere at the saltburn mansion. he runs his hand against the soft duvet of your bed, laughing to himself when he spots a pile of stuffed animals by your pillows. you shut the door, turning to face him with your hands on your hips. you stare at him, raising your brows as a way of saying “go on,” farleigh clears his throat, clasping his hands together in his lap. “i’m sorry.” he sounds hesitant when he says it, like he’s being forced to apologize.
you blink, staying silent as he stares up at you with bambi eyes. “and?” you press. farleigh sighs, dropping his eyes to the floor instead. “i was just upset, i didn’t mean anything i said. i love you, you know that.” he says with a whiny tone. you’ve been through this same scenario multiple times, he fucks you over, comes back to apologize and beg for you back, then you have make up sex. every time this happens, you forgive him easily, letting him fuck your brains out to forget everything he had said to you prior. you didn’t want to give in again, but the way he was looking up at you with his dreamy brown eyes, his highlighted curls framing his face perfectly, even his cologne was driving you crazy.
you missed him, you missed his voice, his explicit compliments, especially his touch. “i miss you, baby.” he whimpers. you cock your head to the side, trying to hide your excitement. “really?” you ask with dilated eyes as you slowly step over to him. farleigh nods, a small smirk forming on his lips. “please, baby—please don’t make me sit here and beg.” he groans. he looks at you up and down before reaching for your hand. he intertwines his fingers into yours, a perfect fit. farleigh nuzzles his cheek against the soft flesh of your skin, then he kisses your knuckles, a predator like glint flashing in his eyes. he pulls you onto the bed with him, placing you in his lap as he leaves a trail of delicate kisses down your neck.
“let me make it up to you.” he whispers. you moan softly, looking up at him. you lean your head against his shoulder as his hands roam up your back, then under your shirt. “forgive me, okay?” he mutters in your ear. you feel his hands stopping midway to your bra, and you whine softly in response. you lock eyes with him, nodding eagerly. he gives you a faint smile before he continues to unclasp your bra with a swift move. you knew that he’d fuck up again soon, and you knew you would run back to him again—but if it meant incredible sex, you didn’t mind.
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© please do not publish my work on other sites.
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sovksluv · 2 days
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GTYU2K - static chapter 1
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✰ . pairing - ex!Luke Castellan x italian!fem!singer!reader smau
✰ . summary - dating an ex-frat boy was definitely not the best idea, but now that you’re only a girl he used to know, you’re making tons of money off him and his lying, cheating ass, iykwim 😉
✰ . includes - badassness, italian singer but no specified race, cussing probably, sad luke because he regrets what he did
✰ . series taglist - @sluttysammyy
✰ . pjo taglist - @perseus-jackass @niktwazny303 @st4rzl7
✰ . now playing - GTYU2K by Alexis Munroe
✰ . a/n - im not really sure how artists like talk about their new albums and stuff so taylor swift is my inspo!! also PLEASE if you haven’t, GO LISTEN TO Alexis Munroe (aka princessbri) ALSO!!! pictures do NOT depict the reader!!
✰ . series masterlist
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y/ny/ln u make me sick
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larueclarisse FUUUUCK HIM !!! U DONT NEED HIM 🫶🏽❤️‍🔥
ׂ╰┈➤ y/ny/ln ridding myself of allllll the bullshit
ׂ╰┈➤ user09 ATE
missbeauregard soooo excited !!! and so proud of you lovie 💕💕
ׂ╰┈➤ y/ny/ln ilyyyy mwah mwah 💋💋
seaweedbrainbaddie um where’s my photo creds 🤨🤨🤨🤞🤞
ׂ╰┈➤ y/ny/ln no
ׂ╰┈➤ seaweedbrainbaddie yes
ׂ╰┈➤ y/ny/ln no
ׂ╰┈➤ seaweedbrainbaddie YES
ׂ╰┈➤ y/ny/ln FINE. 📸 creds to @seaweedbrainbaddie (stupid name btw)
ׂ╰┈➤ seaweedbrainbaddie thank you and FUCK YOU
ׂ╰┈➤ annab3th LANGUAGE.
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pipesqueak drop the album alreadyyy!! i’m dying waiting 😫
ׂ╰┈➤ y/ny/ln coming soon i promise ml 💋
ׂ╰┈➤ pipesqueak not soon enough :(
iamchris_h can’t let bro know i fw this 😣
ׂ╰┈➤ larueclarisse don’t even know why ur friends w such a loser
ׂ╰┈➤ iamchris_h we all make mistakes guys
ׂ╰┈➤ larueclarisse his dad definitely did 🥱
ׂ╰┈➤ missbeauregard CLARISSE.
hater77 she’s just obsessed with her ex like if it’s so bad why make a whole album about him LMFAO
ׂ╰┈➤ user54 ur just mad she’s making money and u aren’t 🤣
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larueclarisse GIRLS NIGHT ‼️🥂❤️‍🔥 tagged: @y/ny/ln @missbeauregard @pipesqueak
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pipesqueak i had so much fun !!! 💕💕
ׂ╰┈➤ larueclarisse WE ALL NEED TO GO OUT TOGETHER AGAIN?!?&:8
ׂ╰┈➤ pipesqueak YES !
y/ny/ln holy shit i’m so hung over but at least i look good 🤷‍♀️
ׂ╰┈➤ larueclarisse only Y/n Y/ln can get full on shitfaced and still look good 😫❤️‍🔥
seaweedbrainbaddie omg guys why wasn’t i invited :(((( 💔😖
ׂ╰┈➤ y/ny/ln you’re a boy. it was girls night.
ׂ╰┈➤ larueclarisse you’re like 8??
ׂ╰┈➤ missbeauregard you would probably just complain the whole time
ׂ╰┈➤ pipesqueak you can’t even drink
ׂ╰┈➤ annab3th you’re annoying.
ׂ╰┈➤ seaweedbrainbaddie babe you weren’t even there ??
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itslukecastellan she looks so pretty
ׂ╰┈➤ larueclarisse boy gtfo
ׂ╰┈➤ iamchris_h Luke i can’t even defend you anymore 🤦🏽
y/ny/ln just posted a new story
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view reply from larueclarisse:
larueclarisse YESSSSS IM SO EXCITED 🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽
y/ny/ln my biggest supporter 💕
view reply from missbeauregard:
missbeauregard DISSIN HIM AND MAKING MONEY!!! IM SO PROUD OF YOUUUU
y/ny/ln thank you babyyyyyy <3333
view reply from cast311anbackup:
cast311anbackup i miss you
y/ny/ln leave me aloneeeee how many mf times do i have to block you.
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y/ny/ln i’m not the girl that u used 2 know🤷‍♀️
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© sovksluv 2024, please do not repost or translate my work!
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𝕭𝖊𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖉 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖉𝖊𝖘𝖐
Derek danforth x gender neutral reader
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Summary: as Derek’s personal assistant, it’s your job to do whatever you need to in order to make your boss’ day run smoothly.
This is like a continuation of the other story that I wrote for Derek, but can also be read as a standalone.
Warnings: gender neutral reader. No use of Y/N. Smut! Oral sex (reader giving). Dom Derek. Boss x advisor relationship. Sorry for bad grammar. Sorry if it’s cringe. Enjoy :)
Word counts: 3000+
The coffee pot is already halfway empty when you walks into the staff kitchen at half past eleven, the handle of your green and white spotted mug hanging loosely from your fingertips. You nod a greeting at a coworker of yours, scrolling through her Blackberry as she sips from her own orange mug, and step up to the counter. Setting your cup down on the linoleum surface, you grab the pot and fill the cup two-thirds with the liquid energy that doesn’t work as well as it used to.
The office is abuzz with the usual hustle and bustle. People huddle around the coffee machine, tapping away at keyboards, and discussing weekend plans.
You could hear whispers barely audible from behind you.
You strut past, your chin held high. You catch their stares but don’t flinch.
They are more than likely talking about the purple constellation that adorned your neck.
Courtesy of the esteemed boss, Mr. Danforth. They are like a badge of honor, they show how dedicated to your job you were.
You open the cabinet overhead and digs out three packets of sugar and a stirrer. Tossing them next to your mug, you traverse the small space to the fridge and pull open the door to grab the hazelnut creamer off the side. When you turns around, closing the fridge door with your elbow, Mickey is squeezing into the room around the woman as she leaves.
“Need a boost already?” Mickey asks with a bit of laughter in his voice.
Mickey is one of the members of the UDG and, although he and you aren’t particularly close outside of the office, he makes for good company during the day.
You offers up a smile before returning your attention to your coffee. “I’ve been running around all morning coordinating the arrival plans of various investors,” you explain, opening the creamer and filling your mug the rest of the way. “And there’s that joint meeting with Production after lunch so I can’t risk passing out.”
Putting the creamer aside, he tears open all three packets of sugar at once and pours them in.
Mickey hums sympathetically even though he’ll be sitting in on the meeting as well. He takes a quick look at the side of your neck, rolling his eyes at the indecency in trying at least to hide obvious things. He goes to grab a cup of greek yogurt with his name written along the top and side in thick, black marker, nabbing the creamer on his way to the fridge to put it back.
You gently stir your coffee to dissolve the sugar. You curl your fingers around the handle, careful so they don’t brush against the burning stoneware.
“Long night, eh?” He said while glancing back quickly at your neck with his eyes.
“Oh, you have no idea.” your eyes gleaming as you remembered the party that occurred the night before.
You raised the mug in a wave and laughed at the annoyed pinch of Mickey’s eyebrows. Lifting the mug to your lips, you take a sip off your coffee as you turn to walk through the floor back to your own office. It’s still much too hot, and you may have overdone it on the sugar, but you need the caffeine to kick in sooner rather than later.
You walk past, triumphant, leaving behind your coworkers still whispering behind your back, unapologetically proud. Because sometimes, in the corporate jungle, you’ve got to wear your bruises with pride.
The department is in a casual disarray with the preparations for the afternoon meeting, the potential launch of a new line of products the main stressor. It’s still rather early in discussion; all of the serious panicked overtime work won’t happen for another couple months.
Taking another sip of your coffee before placing your mug down on the coaster you drunkenly stole from a sports bar a few months ago, you drag over your tablet. You tap and drag your stylus over the screen until you pull up your email. There’s already five new emails in your inbox.
You sigh from annoyance.
At the light call of your name, you push out of your lazy lean over your desk and straighten up. Turning over your shoulder, you lock eyes with your boss. The slightly older man rests against the open doorway, a hand tucked into the pocket of his light green slacks. He wears a light smile that quirks into something of a smirk.
His pupils were dilated.
The fucker was already having fun without you.
“Yes, Mr. Danforth?” you answer, fully facing your boss with your head resting on the back of your hands closed with your fingers intertwined. Your eyes start to wander toward the floor but you drag them back up to the older man’s face.
Your boss looks you up and down with purpose. “Come into my office for a moment, please?” He talked with that preppie teenage snot voice that you’ve come to like more and more.
“Now?” You hide a grin behind your hands. You could hear footsteps of other coworkers.
“If you have the time.”
Nodding, you keep your eyes on your boss as the older man steps out of the doorway and walks across the hallway to his own office. Once he’s out of sight, you heave in a deep breath.
You grab your coffee, taking one last drink while it’s still warm because you know you’re not going to be back before it cools.
For being the CEO of a ‘successful’ company at the young age of twenty-eight, Derek Danforth has a unique head on his shoulders.
As his personal advisor, you know a lot of Derek’s quirks — the signs he’s not as indefinitely happy as he seems and wading in stress. Signs like the way his eyes were iced over a moment ago, and like the way his fingers twitched where they hid in his pocket.
And it’s your job to keep Derek ‘in check’.
It had started with a stealthy look during a meeting, when you were still relatively new to the job.
Then with a stolen smile in the hallway.
Then with a light exchange of words while you were still working at night.
To then sex whenever the two of you wanted to.
Every encounter was a risk (at least for you in the beginning), but the thrill and the passion had overwhelmed you two like a stormy wave.
You step into Derek’s office, eyes on the tips of your shoes. You drag the door shut and twist the lock behind your back without raising your chin.
“Yes, Sir?”
Derek’s fingers tap along the surface of his desk, the skips in rhythm a confirmation that he’s under stress. They stop, and then you hear the slide of a computer mouse over a mouse pad followed by a click and a flurry of typing.
And you wait, playing with your fingers behind your back where Derek can’t see. (Although he probably knows that you are fidgeting. You always had a problem with fidgeting.)
The tip tap of Derek’s fingers moving over the keys echoes in the spacious expanse of his office and the lack of immediate attention leaves you to hover between alertness and disconnect.
“Come sit,” Derek says at last, tone conversational.
You lets yourself disconnect a little more, the command enough to push you into a pleasant haze. You bobs your head in a nod. “Yes, Sir.”
Derek isn’t one for flair but the visitor’s chairs in his office have cushions like clouds. You leave a subtle hint every once in a while that you want to know where they came from but Derek has yet to divulge.
You want to reach out to touch the back of one of the two chairs, but you keep your hands to yourself as you round the desk and stop at Derek’s left. You catch a glimpse of Derek’s desk as you drop to your knees.
There was some strange paper that looked like a sort of message but you had no time to read it as the paper was instantly crushed by Derek’s fingers and thrown to the trash.
Derek sinks his fingers into your hair with an approving hum.
A quiet exhale blows over your lips. You lean into the touch, letting your eyes fall shut as you’re petted. When your mind starts to wander, you lose track of time, so you don't know how many minutes pass before Derek turns in his chair and guides you between his spread legs.
“Do you mind helping me out?” Derek asks in a needy voice, massing his fingers into your nape.
You hum, pleased. The fingers at your neck press harder and you pull your eyes open. “Of course.”
Derek’s hand leaves your neck and travels to his belt.
“Actually...” you meet Derek’s eyes for the first time since entering his office. The heady gaze of hunger makes your cheeks tint and your heart soar. At the quirk of an eyebrow, you know to continue. “I was waiting until after the meeting but I have a proposal for you.”
Derek’s right eyebrow raises to join the left. He leans back in his chair and props one of his elbows up on an arm rest. “Show me, then.”
You rise to your feet. You preen under Derek’s attention, squirming cutely as you undoe the button and zip of your pants and inches them down to your knees, along with your underwear. Waddling to face the desk, you spare a glance back at your boss before moving his laptop off to the side.
Resting your weight onto your elbows, you leans over the desk with your unbuttoned slacks held up by spread thighs. You swipe your tongue over your lips and shifts your weight onto one arm, reaching back with the other to spread yourself open for Derek to see.
The chair creaks a bit when Derek raises out of it.
“You’ve been stressed as of lately and it’s okay if you don’t wanna talk about it to me. I was hoping I could—”
“Quiet.”
Pressing your forehead against the desk, you bite back another whimper and clamp your lips shut.
Derek’s fingers are cold as they trail down the slight exposure of your back and over the curve of your ass. Already properly ready to take him thanks to you.
“How many times have you come today?” He rubs his finger up and down.
You shake your head.
Clicking his tongue, Derek bears his hand down on your ass, the slap light but scolding.
Your breath hitches and you exhale out a small giggle, soaring a little higher after the hit. “Zero.” You answer properly.
“I’d love to fuck you loose and then turn you over the other side of my desk. Unlock the door and let anyone who comes in see how beautifully you gape.”
Whimpering, you clench around nothing under the effect of his finger. Derek rubs circles into the small of his back, shushing you under his breath.
“You want it that badly, eh?”
His words get lost in the clouds filling the space between your ears, making his voice a dull noise that sounds like it’s happening outside the walls of the office.
“Sweetheart?”
Giggling, you press your cheek into the desk and tries to look up at your boss.
Derek pokes the tip of his nose and chuckles when you scrunches it. “You went down further than I thought you would,” he mumbles to himself. “That’s fine. I guess we both need it.”
You stare at him starry-eyed, grin uncontrollable, as Derek retrieves his fingers and yanks your pants up.
Beginning to work at his belt, Derek nods at his advisor. “On your knees”
A part of you wants to whine at the command — wants Derek to touch you, wants to be able to touch yourself — but the gruff voice of your boss’ voice scrapes over your skin and leave you warm and obedient. You push yourself up and easily return to your position on the floor, back pulled straight in attention and arms folded behind your back, hands curved around your elbows, in denial.
Derek brushes soft fingers over your cheek and under your jaw. “Aren’t you so beautiful like this, sweetheart?” He slides his belt free and loops it around the back of your neck. With a harsh tug, he pulls your face to his crotch.
“We don’t have a lot of time, so you’re going to suck me off and then I’m going to send you out,” he explains. “But since you prepared such a nice present. Sit close to me during the meeting so it won’t be as boring. If you can make it through without needing to excuse yourself, we can just leave, maybe go back to my place and fuck over and over. I don’t need to explain to you what happens if you can’t resist, clear?”
“Crystal,” you slur, mouth smushed against the stiffening swell of Derek’s erection.
Derek releases the belt, leaving it hanging around your shoulders, and let you work at the button of his pants.
You lower yourself to sit back and to be in line with Derek’s hips.
Without answering, Derek opens his pants enough to pull himself free. His cock hangs heavily between the green flaps of his slacks, already hard enough to hook to the right. Leaving one hand loosely curled around himself, he presses the fingers of the other to your lips.
You part them, still looking up at your boss with starry eyes. Derek teases a finger along your bottom lip.
He chuckles brightly but a second later his entire face closes off. “What are you smiling for?” His voice sinks nearly a whole octave and, as expected, your tiny grin drops.
Breath quickening, you quickly lower your gaze and try to straighten your back impossibly more, the sound of Derek’s voice hitting that particular low knocking you into another level of submission.
The fingers at your lip hook over your teeth and pull his jaw open wider.
“Excited to have my dick?” Derek angles his dick up and rubs the shaft, already smelling thick with arousal, over the ball of your cheek.
Your eyes begin to glaze over where they’re glued to the fall of Derek’s light green or seawater tone dress shirt over the base of his cock. You try to blink yourself out of it, faintly aware of where the two of you are and your limits, but when the hand at your mouth leaves and drags back along your jaw to settle like an anchor at your nape, the desire to sink is so inviting.
“You’re my sweet, little cockslut, aren’t you?” Derek punctuates the question by slapping the side of your face with his dick, the sound made hollow by your open jaw. “Always so good for me.”
Sucking in a shuddering breath and letting your eyes drift shut again, you nod once. “Yes,” you exhale and turn your head to press your nose into Derek’s shaft.
Derek’s grip softens and he grazes lines into your skin. “Haven’t had you like this in a while,” he says, and then reestablishes the weight of his hand.
He presses the tip of his cock to your lips, which part once more without instruction, and slides into your mouth.
“That’s it,” Derek sighs. He draws out before guiding you down his length again, giving little time to allow his slut to relax. “Take all of it.”
The bit of coarse hair at Derek’s base that pokes out over the hem of his pants tickles your nose and if you hadn’t fallen deeper, you probably would have laughed. But you’re quiet as Derek holds your face flush against his hips that shallowly roll forward, pushing his cock as far into your mouth as his limits will allow.
He sighs again, more labored, and you peel open your eyes to glance up at him.
Derek’s own eyes trail up from where they were watching your mouth to meet his slut’s gaze.
You blink three times, your signal for an okay when he can’t use his hands or words.
Derek inches out, checks his hold on you, and slides back in, gaining speed and ending up choking you as he uses your mouth to get off.
And you take it so well, hollowing your cheeks on the backstroke and swallowing around the head of Derek’s cock when it bumps the back of your throat, even as the rough treatment steals the air from your lungs and builds tears in your eyes.
Sporadically, Derek murmurs a compliment in between the low groans and hushed curses, so proud of his precious advisor, his sweetheart — and every word makes you ache between his legs, makes your hands tighten where they’re clamped around your elbows, makes you skyrocket.
The ringing of Derek’s office phone goes ignored as he focuses on the moist warmth of his slut’s mouth and chasing his end. It’ll get him in trouble one day, maybe, but here in this moment, with your throat working around his dick in that way he likes and the blood in his veins singing, he can’t be bothered with caring.
Derek doesn’t always warn you before he comes, but you know all of the signs. Signs like how he presses his nails into your skin or how his left knee trembles the slightest bit. And when he sucks in his cheeks and hum, Derek comes warm and thick on your tongue.
Some of it leaks when Derek pulls out of your mouth, sliding over your swollen lips, but the older man is quick to catch it on a finger and feed it back to you.
“Tuck me in” Derek demands after you swallow, voice still husky but now light. The corners of his lips rise into a satiated smirk.
Unfolding your arms, you shake the crawling feeling out of them before tucking Derek back into his underwear and adjusting his pants. As he redoes the buttons, Derek rubs all over your neck, upper back, and shoulders. “Was I able to help?”
With a gruff he managed to pull you on his lap, not that you showed any sign of protest. “Not too bad so far. We’ll see how I feel later tonight”
All you do in response is tuck your nose into Derek’s throat and enjoys being held.
“Can’t wait,” you exhales.
Note: thanks for reading. Criticism is completely accepted
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Text
I spent a couple hours trying to decipher and write down the lyrics to the stolitz duet (I’ll keep updating as more recordings are posted, hopefully the unintelligible lyrics are easier to hear in at least one!)
Lyrics below the cut (question marks in parentheses mean I’m not 100% sure)
S: thank you too (?????)
The butterflies in my stomach, I have’t felt this nervous(??????) since I was a little fluffy dove, nesting my
Daring do, his half disguise, behind the smile my beak is grinding, never minding
I swore I couldn’t dwell on the divorce, so for my own health, I’ll remind myself
That when I see him, I know that it won’t be so tough, I’ll believe him and not the voice inside of my own head(?!?)
Instead(?) of our arrangement, it can just be him and me, how perfect it could be, when I see him tonight
B: it’s time to meet?(??) alright, alright! It’s been a while since he came for attention! Are we okay? I can’t really say, I’m getting by by avoiding his questions
So complicated, I hate when it’s complicated, why do I alway end up in situations that are complicated
Here I go again, getting in my head, so I’ll focus on the sexy stuff instead
S: when I see him
B: I’m gonna do that thing he likes(??)
S: when he sees me(?)
B: we don’t have to change things, I’ll just bring a load of spice
S: —(???) make things worse
B: we’ve got a nice arrangement, and it’s working out just fine, we’ll keep it light(?)
S: I’ll fucking die alone if this goes bad tonight
Both?: when I see him tonight
S: am I doing something I can’t take back
B: relax
S: would he want me if he was free
B: we’re fine!
S: and if he’s only here as a prisoner, what kind of monster does that make me? My entire life’s been written in stone
B: we’re gonna bone
S: he taught me that I could choose
B: cool
S: he deserves a choice to stay or go, though it scares me to think what i’d loose
B: I can’t wait to lose ourselves in nasty sex and make that bird SQUAK
S: what do I(???) ———- (???)
B: we’ll just stick with what makes sense, like him sucking my
S: co ————(??????)
B: who needs words when you’ve got a mouth full of
S: come to your senses
B: ———-(???)
S: this will be(?) all for love and trust
B: I’ll leave his bird puss nice and rough
S: I will love(?????) him soon
B: he’ll be coming-
both: -soon enough
B: oh yeah!
S: when I see him, will it be tender or be tough? Will it please him, or will I just be fucking it all up? Can this be a relationship, or am I still naïve?
I’ll set us free, whatever it may be, when I see him tonight
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iwaasfairy · 14 hours
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no cs omg fairy my big big brain is working !!
what if atsuko wasn’t an only child? what if he had a little brother who loved mom too?? sibling rivalry??
tw implied incest, jealousy, manipulative tendencies on ko WhATS new
if atsuko x mom!reader had an even more complicated situation
Ryota’s eyes are dragged from the pretty shape of the falling cherry blossom petals with a force greater than him. He looks over his shoulder, hands tightening slightly on the bike handles— just in time to avoid Atsuko’s attempt at slapping him in the back of the head. As he dodges, he pushes the meathead away by the arm, and kicks out his leg at his shin. “Heard you coming, motherfucker.”
“For once,” Atsuko grins when he still manages to land a mostly good-spirited squeeze at the back of his neck, and the younger man’s shoulders jerk up in protection. When he falls into step next to him, they both turn the last corner as the warm, evening sun makes harsh shadows. “Don’t you have volleyball training to get to, brat?”
“Don’t you have some teachers to bribe, dick?” He sighs. “Practice is canceled because our captain is home with a fever.”
Ryota’s dark eyes stay on his brother’s face when the grin curls up onto it. Of course Atsuko doesn’t falter. “Ah. My good name got you into school without a scholarship- you should be thankful.”
As they’ve grown older some of the edge has splintered away from the accusations, and now only a smooth surface remains. One that keeps the peace. One that doesn’t leave bad impressions. The older brushes his fingers through his hair to get it out of his face, before sliding his hands back into his pockets.
“Is Tooru getting mom anything for Mother’s Day?” Ryota asks after a brief break, and his brother just shakes his head.
“Well, except the usual… treatment on a holiday,” the lighter brunet’s mouth pulls into a slight line, absentmindedly scratching his arm, “I don't think so. No trip or anything at least, they just had their anniversary trip.” He doesn’t hesitate to swing an arm over his shoulder as he squeezes him under his shoulder. “And you can call him dad.”
That’s something he doesn’t feel the urge to respond to.
“Are you gonna do something?” He ends up asking.
The older man now frowns at Ryota, who raises a hand in flimsy protection. It’s not the first time he’s gotten into trouble for less. His arm slips off as soon as it came when he straightens up with a frown. Ko nii can’t truly think he’s subtle. No, in fact, there is no way that anyone with eyes can mistake it for anything else. Still Atsuko asks. “What kind of fucking question is that?”
“It’s a fucking question, anii,” Ryota bites back, frowning too now. It doesn’t last long before he forces it off his face though, seeing the house come up at the end of the street. You don’t like seeing them not get along— and for what it’s worth, when Atsuko’s not acting like a possessive tool, they get along fine. “D’you wanna do something with mom as a family?” He adds after a few seconds of silence.
Silence where Ko nii seems to mull his answer around in his mouth until it becomes acceptable to say, or maybe until the bad taste fades. He’s got a glint in his eye, and his mouth stays shut for too long. It’s almost like he’s debating just telling him after all. But the unspoken knowledge is enough, isn’t it? It doesn’t need to be more than that.
That way he can still pretend. Ryota laughs. “Right. Forgot you wanna have it be a private audience. Should I stay at someone else’s house for the day or can you control yourself?” Atsuko’s grin can’t be wiped from his face. If it was Ryota, he’d at least have some fucking shame about it.
It seems like that thought hasn’t even crossed his older brother’s mind. And without meaning to, he lets the slight sourness on his tongue fall out with a complaint, rolling his eyes. “You should probably re-learn about sharing. She’s my mom too-”
“Yeah?” The older basically skips a few steps ahead, before running his tongue over his teeth and grinning as he takes off towards their garden. “Too bad. If you wanted a bite you should’ve been born first.”
He makes a face. “That’s fucking gross, anii.” His bike clicks as he rolls it behind, and his eyes scan the green for you. Only one thing gets his brother that giddy- his eyes stop to run over you where you’re reaching up to the branches of the trees, and picking out some early apples. Atsuko tackles you into a broad shouldered hug, before picking you up under your legs and into him, and he can hear how your giggles echo the street. You look good, pretty. The sweetheart dress you’re wearing clings to your waist and with how Ko nii’s hands are glued to your ass, he does see it.
He’d have to be blind not to see it. You are pretty. You let Atsu kiss you on the mouth but pull back when the big fuck probably tries to slip his tongue in. Freak. Not that that stops the barrage of love the guy heaps on you as Ryota drops his bike onto the grass. You only pull away from where Ko’s pretty much biting kisses down your throat to aim your beautiful smile on him instead, and he can’t help but feel warmer when holding up his hand.
“Hi, ma.”
Your tangled fingers pull from Ko nii’s hand to reach out to him as you rush over on sandals and your love glitters at him when he gets close. It’s like a tidal wave that coats everything in heat, warm and soft and kind like you’ve always been. What Atsuko’s doing is fucked up, but he does get it. “Baby~” You wrap your arms around his neck to pull him down, and he lets his hands clench tight around your waist.
“I missed you so much.” He doesn’t pick you up, or kiss you, or basically make out with your neck— and you place a loving kiss on his cheek before wiping your hands on your dress. “Thank you for coming home, I know you’re busy at school.”
“It’s really- it’s fine. Missed you.” He doesn’t mean to stoke the flame, but as he looks up through his lashes he meets eyes with Atsuko. Who’s chewing his bottom lip to get rid of the ever so slightly agitated grin— that only tightens when Ryota finds himself winding his arms around you a bit tighter. Enough to pull you off your balance and make you laugh, before pushing away as you look between them both.
“Do you guys want to take a dip before dinner?” The sun casts the pool in perfect dappled light. “I took a dip earlier and the water is just right~ if you get the chance.”
Atsuko only waits a second before he reaches his hand back to you to stroke his thumb along your neck, then pulls you in when he softly tangles his fingers into the base of your hair. “I’ll go if you go.” You don’t hesitate to brush that off and roll your eyes, but your hand still lands on the lighter brunet’s chest. His eyes shift to where the younger brother is still standing in the front yard, slips his hands into his front pockets. “Ryota wants us to do something for Mother’s Day in a couple days… Any requests?”
The hand that’s still on your neck now moves down your spine, lower, lower- until it traces over the fabric to brush along the edge. When you don’t respond, your face turns to his questioning, and a bit shocked. But Atsuko isn’t. “What about a repeat of last year, mom?” He asks, and drops his lips to your temple after a self-satisfied grin. “Maybe I’ll keep it a surprise for now. I know what you like.”
He shrugs as he walks away with you still left in your spot on the deck— taps the door frame on his way inside. “Ryo’s back, dad! I’m gonna give mom a massage in the master bedroom. She worked so hard today.”
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treedaddymcpuffpuff · 12 hours
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Excessive Force : Tom Ludlow x Fem Nurse Reader (COLLAB W/ THE INCREDIBLE @johnwickb1tsch) - Chapter One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine
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TW: little bit of nsfw, BDSM mention, angst
You shouldn’t be googling ‘how to tell a guy no in a nice way’ at the nurse’s station, but something has to be done. You thought after you left Julian’s place that there would be a mutual understanding of “this isn’t going to work out, we’re too incompatible”, but he didn’t seem to get that memo. 
The gifts just keep coming:
A pretty black silk dress in your exact size by Prada. Two crescent thin golden bangles for each wrist from Tiffany & Co that come in a robin’s egg blue box wrapped in a white satin ribbon. Upon close examination, you make out that they are subtly engraved in slanting script, JM. Really? His initials? You almost chuck them out the window just for that. 
An expensive lunch from the fancy bistro that you can never afford, though you would have preferred a gourmet sandwich to an artisan salad. 
A bouquet of fifty fucking red roses for Christ’s sake. They take up so much room at the nurse’s station that they’re a nuisance. They’re addressed to you, not signed—but you know exactly who they’re from. Then you have to field all the annoying questions about who’s your secret admirer? You hear Karen grumble that it must be that Officer Romeo and didn’t know cops got paid that good. 
If only they knew. It would serve Julian right, if you just ratted him out to everyone. 
This has to stop. 
“Julian?” 
He looks up from his mountain of paperwork. “Hey, look who it is. Are you feeling alright?” 
“I’m fine. How are you?” Yeah, great, egg this on a little bit more instead of getting to the point. When will you learn? 
“I’m spectacular,” he says. “I was wondering if you were alright because you called off for the first time yesterday?” 
Yeah, so I didn’t have to face you after receiving the expensive ass jewelry…
Your smile feels forced enough to induce a migraine, but at least it gives you an idea for an excuse. “Yeah, I had a really bad migraine.”
“Oh, that’s not good. Do you get them frequently?”
“Yes.” It’s not exactly a lie, although these migraines you’re admitting to are actually just mild caffeine withdrawal headaches when you don’t have enough time to drink your coffee. 
“Have you talked to your primary care provider about it?” He asks, standing up to flash his penlight in your eyes and dilate your pupils. He grips your chin and turns your head to check lateral eye movement, but you stop him. 
“Julian, I’m fine. I didn’t have a stroke.” 
“Don’t tell me you’re fine if you’re not fine,” he orders. “I can see there’s something wrong. You're pale and clammy.” He pulls out his big leather chair and guides you to sit in it. “Tell me what I can do to help.” 
You look up at him, at this kind eyed, two sided man, and can’t do it. You can’t tell him to stop sending you gifts or buying you food, because you don’t want to be an asshole and you don’t want to hurt his feelings. Your nerves die along with your resolve.
“There, see, you look like you’re feeling better already. I’ll go buy you some water.” 
“No, you don’t-“ he’s already gone halfway down the hall with those mile long legs. 
You decide to take all the expensive gifts and shove them in the bottom of your closet to avoid feeling guilty when looking at them. But that doesn’t change the fact that you still have to look at Dr. Mercer and endure his caring, golden retriever persona.
This is what happens when you lie to yourself. You swear off relationships, move to a different part of the country, and then decide to go on a date—idiot—and these are the consequences for it. You feel like you have absolutely betrayed that girl that packed up her whole life to come to LA for a fresh start, and you’re sure she’s not forgiving you this time. 
“No more,” you say to yourself, pushing the gift boxes to the back of the cobwebby closet. “No more dates, no more men. No more heartbreak. You stupid bitch. Yes, that includes Tom Ludlow. Shut up. I said. No. Tom. Ludlow.” 
You end up screaming into a pillow, then calling your sister. She doesn’t answer, which is typical—probably on the road or using again or even dead in a ditch for all you know.
“Hey, Aggie, it’s me, gimme a call.” You play the voicemail back and then decide to delete it and hang up. You’re not exactly on speaking terms, but that ebbs and flows from one year to the next, so you’re not sure what she’ll think or do when she sees your name on her phone screen. 
Your friend, Sheila, doesn’t answer either; she’s probably at work.
It sucks. You could really use some reassurance and comfort that you’re not alone or unwanted in this fucked up little world. Maybe that’s why you end up with your finger hovering over Tom Ludlow’s number while you sit on the floor of your bedroom. You stare at those digits for a long time, then tuck your phone away and cry. 
You only get a chance to dive a little bit into this self pity session before your phone rings from your pocket. It’s not Aggie, nor Sheila, but a number you’ve unintentionally memorized nonetheless. 
Now, you really have to fight with every piece of yourself not to answer Tom Ludlow. The lecture you just monologued becomes irrelevant next to the burning, awful fucking desire to hear him talk. You almost pick it up. Almost. 
Watching your phone ring and ring, his name emblazoned on the screen, without answering feels like cutting out your heart and crushing it under your heel.
It goes to voicemail, but he hangs up before leaving a message.
A part of you that you didn’t even know that you need dies.
Good. Good riddance. Your heart only gets you into huge fucking trouble anyway.
You wait for your inner strength to return over the days that go by afterwards. Tom continues to call. You keep declining to answer. For some reason, you feel worse and worse every time the phone ceases to ring.
Where is you fucking girl power now? 
All you really feel, is empty, and that is the vulnerable state Julian finds you in one late night at the nurses station.
“Y/n,” he greets you, leaning on the counter, looking down at you with a glimmer of something dangerous in his dark eyes. It’s a look he almost never lets out of the box while at the hospital, and suddenly your heart is in your throat.
“Doctor.”
For some reason this causes him to smile down at you, a slight curl of lips that unleashes a handful of fluttering butterflies in your belly. 
“I’ve been thinking about you.”
You recall the massive bouquet of pure white lilies he had sent to your door yesterday, and believe him. 
“Julian…”
He comes around the counter, smooth as a dark lake, reminding you of when he jumped over the couch and chased you like he was a wolf rather than a golden retriever. Your pussy gives a timid little throb at this, almost as if she’s asking for permission to come out after days of being punished, locked away in her gilded cage while you dealt with other, more pressing emotions, like the one that stabs you repeatedly in the chest while you let Tom Ludlow’s number go to voicemail. 
“I can’t stop-“ he clears his throat, chin up as if he’s trying not to be nervous, and brushes some wispy, rogue hair off your neck. “I can’t stop thinking about you.” You can tell by the black matte of his eyes he means more than just platonically. 
Every hair on your body stands at attention for that hungry, eat you alive look on the handsome Doctor’s face. Part of you, and it’s a bigger part than you’d like to admit, wants to have a gag stuffed down your throat and a tight slip knot holding it in place so that he can do whatever he wants without you ruining things with your fat mouth again. 
“We’re just. We’re really not—Fuck.” You slap your forehead into your hands, and he takes it out, ever so gently with a big, shiver-inducing palm at the back of your neck, gripped softly in your hair, not exactly pulling, but lifting your face up to look at him nonetheless. 
“Please, just hear me out.” It doesn’t sound like he’s used that first word very often—maybe not ever, or at least not for a very long time. Dr. Mercer’s picture is in the dictionary under the word ‘Polite’, but he practically runs this hospital, and with that responsibility comes a certain authoritative entitlement. 
“Julian, we’re at work.” You don’t know how he manages to get you on the desk without alerting anyone around. The way he can just lift you easy and gentle has a familiar desire bubbling hot in your hips, and you can’t decide if you’re glad that you chose to chart in a more secluded area of the floor tonight or not.
“I can’t help it.” It sounds like he’s honest about that, voice splintering and needy as he presses his hard torso between your soft thighs. “I know that I fucked up, but if I don’t get a second chance to at least try and rectify this…” He’s not usually a man that doesn’t know what he wants to say. 
This whole swearing off men thing? How is it supposed to fucking work if the men look and act like Julian? How are you supposed to do the whole proverbial keep it in your pants bit when a sexy, tall, beautiful doctor wants—desperately—to string you up to his bed and do horrible things to your body?
You can’t believe these words are coming out of your traitor's mouth as you bend under his will: “what kind of a second chance?”
He kisses you in response, long and slow, tongue slipping teasingly against the sensitive inner sanctum of your mouth. It leaves your toes curling, your chest rising quick and rapid, your white knuckles clutching the polished counter. He’s not exactly nice about it, pressing you back into the lip of the granite, holding the entire side of your face in his hard grip, turning your mouth red and swollen. 
You’re going to have to bleach wipe this desk after all of this is done, because the insistent need of his mouth is making your comfy cotton underwear damp and warm like a humid summer night back at home. 
“Let me take you to the club. Let me show you…let me help you understand.” 
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea.” Isn’t that the fucking understatement of the century? It sounds like a terrible idea. But, you were the one that wanted to understand him better. “When?” 
The thrill seeker, she’ll never die. She needs blood, she’s thirsty, she doesn’t want a boring life of reading and watching the news. She wants to go to a BDSM club in Venice with a fine ass doctor and probably ruin your—her life in the process.
“When are you off next?” The grin on Julian’s face is all Mr. Hyde. 
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vestaclinicpod · 3 days
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Audio Drama Sunday - 28th April ✨
Happy Audio Drama Sunday! I started two new shows this week and fell in love with both of them!! 
👻 @tellnotalespod (S2E8.5) ohhhhhh I’m so emotional. The end of this series is going to make me cry so many happy tears, I can just feel it. 
🌲 @hellofromthehallowoods (149) With the description this week, I think I truly realised just how scary-looking the pig man is 😰 Things are looking decidedly down for Shelby and Clem. Eek. God, Valerie!!! She’s such an interesting character because you can literally connect the dots of her trauma but still be slightly disappointed by the consequences on her behaviour! And the poor Mr Greenstreets ☹️ Raj is very Syrensyr coded?? Vincent as a grief counsellor makes me wonder… about who or what Voltaire is…. 
Also, I want the Auditor to be Polly so bad and I want Nikignik to get out of the interrogation by bargaining to reunite him with Yaretzi and Mort - PLEASE. 
🧳 Travelling Light by @monstrousproductions (19) I loved seeing our Traveller stand up for themself!! It’s always so fun to see characters who are usually soft gain a backbone of steel because their core values are tested. And the discussion of the nanobots was so interesting!! The laws on nanobots elsewhere when they are literally required for survival makes the entire person illegal. And we all know that’s not right!!! 
👁️ @malevolentcast (41) I’m thinking that maybe Rafters was an exception that proves the rule… Alexander the owl was creepy as anything and I hated the way he seemed to be guiding them towards the crack in the wall. Now we’re in a possible parallel universe, it feels like all bets are off and I’m scared to even consider what might happen to John and Arthur now! 
⚔️ @camlannpod (8) OUGH. Oh my god. Can’t they just have FIVE MINUTES to RELAX?? I actually snorted out loud at: ‘you’re good with an axe, right’. Pere is a little shit and I love that for them. Morgan!!! 🫨 And Dai!!! I’m so hopeful that starting down this path will lead to good (or, at least, a whole load of shenanigans for S2!) 
🖥️ The Magnus Protocol (13) It’s very interesting to me that we were able to listen in on Sam and Cecilia’s date… how did that work? There’s something here about gambling and chance with this story and the previous one about the dice rolling?? I’m connecting the dots (I’m not connecting shit). 
🌞 Small Victories by @wgc-productions is so good, I wish I’d started listening years ago. I love the 90s sitcom vibe and the intro/outro are so unique. I absolutely love shows that centre around character studies. Marisol’s story is so gripping and I love how the writing takes us right inside her brain as she justifies every decision (good or bad). It’s so clear how loveable she is and how much people around her want her to be okay (mostly), but don’t know *how* to get her to that place given the shit they’re dealing with themselves! I got up to 1.09 so . . . bit of a cliffhanger there!! I’m very excited to see how the story progresses. I’m rooting for you, Tiny!! 
🧋 I started @hinaypod and it’s safe to say that I’m in love already! Listening has given me the same amazing feeling of listening to Desperado - the sensation that the creators have opened up a door to a brand new world and I’m so happy to be in it! I adore Mari. Even from episode one, she has this quiet self-confidence in herself and her skills which is so refreshing. I also really like the horror writing here and I’m really looking forward to delving deeper into this story! 
Hope everyone has a good week! 💙
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sunshine-overload · 3 days
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[BSTS] Kokuyou Birthday 2024 4* Card Story
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chapter 1 -starless hallway-
kokuyou: Oh so you’re here today huh? Come to enjoy my hospitality this month have you?
saki: Wah?
kokuyou: I’m talking about the special butler service we’ll be doing for my birth month. I figured I should at least get used to the outfit first. Not like I’ve got much choice. I’m too old to be throwing a fit and saying I don’t wanna do it.
saki: That’s very mature of you.
kokuyou: But still, last year we all made merry choosing presents and this year we’re cosplaying butlers? As usual, the way this store works ain’t normal.
saki: (I can’t imagine Kokuyou-san acting like a proper butler and serving guests like that at all.)
kokuyou: What’s with that strange look you’re giving me? Anyways, look forward to it, yeah?
saki: Huh?
kokuyou: You’re way to easy to read. C’mon, I’ll escort you to your seat.
-starless restaurant area-
kokuyou: Here’s the menu. I’ll attend to the other guests while you decide what you’d like to order. Is that ok?
saki: Ah, yes. That’s fine.
kokuyou: Sorry, I’ll be right back.
-koku moves to another guest-
kokuyou: Hey, you’re a regular aren’t you? Your seat is this way, follow me.
-koku moves to another guest-
kokuyou: I don’t need to give you a long welcome spiel do I? So, what do you wanna order?
Got it, I’ll bring it out once it’s ready… What, you think I’m lacking as a butler? I’m missing a my butler’s smile? Hah, you must still be half asleep. That’s not what you really want from me is it?
saki: (H-he’s killing it out there!)
-koku moves to another guest-
kokuyou: I see your glass is empty. What would you like for your next drink? You’ll leave it to me? I’ll make sure to get you something real exciting then.
Yeah of course it’ll be low on the alcohol, the show hasn’t even started yet after all.
Ah sure, you can take one quick photo. I’m only giving this kinda service while it’s my birthday month, so you better enjoy it.
-
chapter 2 -starless lobby-
saki: (I wonder if Kokuyou-san is still in the restaurant area?)
-cg
kokuyou: You’re still here? I thought you’d gone home already. Today’s butler service has already ended I’m afraid, all the guests have left. Or did you forget your bag or something?
saki: No, but I did forget to say something… Happy Birthday, Kokuyou-san. I’m glad I got to celebrate such a special day with you.
kokuyou: …Yeah, thanks.
kokuyou: ……..
kokuyou: Hey, do you still have some time?
saki: Hm? Yes.
kokuyou: Wait there in that seat then.
-koku leaves-
saki: (Kokuyou-san…? I wonder what he’s doing.)
-time pass, koku returns-
kokuyou: —I am most sorry for the wait, my lady.
saki: …!?
kokuyou: Please enjoy this drink. I prepared it just for you, Miss Saki.
saki: Wh- Huuuh…!?
kokuyou: Tonight please allow me to take care of whatever it is that you wish.
saki: I couldn’t make you do that…! Um, Kokuyou-san…?
kokuyou: …Pfft, how come you’re freaking out? I’m a butler at the moment, right? So you should act the part too.
saki: Huh!?
kokuyou: So, my lady. What is it that you desire?
choice:
Have tea together / Don’t be unreasonable! / Excuse yourself
>have tea together
saki: Would you like to join me for some tea?
kokuyou: Very well. Then, please allow me to take the seat beside you.
saki: O-of course…!
-koku sits down-
kokuyou: Hahahah, we’re both pretty bad at this huh? You can’t stay in character at all.
saki: That’s because you sprung this on me so suddenly, I couldn’t help but be surprised!
kokuyou: I think that should do it. I had just been planning to entertain you a little as thanks for the birthday wishes but I ended up having fun myself.
I don’t consider my birthday to be anything special, its just another normal day like any other. However, it wasn’t half bad hearing you congratulate me. So thanks, Saki.
I’ll make sure to properly play my part as your butler for the rest of the month, so come and visit the store whenever you feel like it. I’ll have to say this every time won’t I?
“Welcome back, my lady.”
—end
other choices:
>don’t be unreasonable
saki: Hmph! You’re being unreasonable!
kokuyou: Hah… My deepest apologies. Please grant me your forgiveness, my lady.
saki: Oh, no! I’m sorry too— Ah, wait, oops…
kokuyou: Hahahah, we’re both pretty bad at this huh? You can’t stay in character at all.
>excuse yourself
saki: Please excuse me.
kokuyou: What are you saying, my lady?
saki: Uhh… I can’t think of anything else to say…!
kokuyou: Hahahah, we’re both pretty bad at this huh? You can’t stay in character at all.
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obsessive-clown · 2 days
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Hi, I am the one who asked for the Hikikimori hcs. Thanks for answering that one. Your content is so nice. Um, Can I please get a part 2 hcs wherein How Yandere Nanami will ingrain himself into his darlings life as soon as they let him inside their life / sacred space aka their apartment
Of course, my dear! I would be more than glad to continue it for you. 🫣
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Hikikimori HCs pt. 2 — (sfw)
♡ Kento is patient — He’s a patient man overall, so he knows he needs to keep his patience with you. It took a lot of patience and time just to get where he was now. And he’d make damned sure that he didn’t ruin it for himself… Or you.
♡ Along with his patience, Kento takes it slow. Some yanderes out there are completely out of it — Rushing to get they want and demanding that their darling go along with it. But Kento had some sense of grounding, he knew where a line was drawn and when not to cross it… At least, if it allowed him to still get close to you, still love you and let you know subtly, that you were already his. Even if that meant killing someone — He wasn’t above that. He’d do it in a heartbeat.
♡ Since he takes it slow, he’s subtle. As soon as you gave him the green flag, he went. Showing up as much as you would allow him, with things you liked. It was odd, since you hardly told him things such as your favorite candy or book— or flowers. But he always chalked it up to how you had quite the history online and that he only wanted to know enough about you.
♡ When he sweetens you up and gets you more comfortable, he starts to act more controlling. Either suggesting that you spend less time online and more time with him, or try something new with him — inside your safe space of course. As much as he’d love to be the person to reintroduce you to the outside world, he’d hate if you took that as an opportunity to leave him.
♡ To anyone’s surprise, he pulls a decent manipulation card. Especially when you two become close. He’ll pull the “you don’t spend enough time with me” card, and insist you’re always glued to your devices. He knows it’s how you work for the school — But for the love of god could you pay more attention to him instead of that fucking computer. You spend time with him, you let him in your safe space after all, that is spending time with him. But he insists on more over time.
♡ He traps you in this cycle — Get upset that you won’t pay complete attention to him, try to insist that you’re overworking yourself or just pulling unnecessary screen time, ask you if you’re just trying to avoid him, guilt you into feeling bad and then make you crawl back to him in some way. Kento was a walking green flag of a man, he had such excellent intentions and standards, treating you with nothing but the best care — but even excellent men such as himself have their downsides. And his downside was this. Controlling you and playing you like a card, expertly, just so he wouldn’t lose you.
♡ Kento always had the best intentions. He always had the best intentions for you. And he would always apologize to you for the trouble he caused, due to his own insecurities and controlling behavior. He does anything to make it up to you, anything you tell him… Anything except leave. That’s one thing he’ll never do, not after all the work he put in just for you. He can’t leave you. He loves you too much.
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Anon, I’m so sorry for taking the longest time to finally write up and post your ask. But I do hope you can enjoy it and that it lives up to your expectations. 🫶
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