#but drawing that hell just seems too painful | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lovelyney · 4 months

Text

────𝐀 𝐊𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐍 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐏 𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐖𝐒────

IN WHICH: You accidentally whack Wriothesley in the nose during a training session and feel bad !!

PAIRINGS: Wriothesley x (GN!) Reader

SCENT: fluff but gets kind of nsfw towards the end ??

WARNINGS: uh wrio makes a comment implying masturbation towards the end? that and you guys just makeout, lol.

FLORIST’S NOTE: Reader is a mix between Wrio’s and Sigewinne’s assistant !! Also happy belated new years, blossoms !!

SONG: Bang! Bang! (K,NAAN & Adam Levine)

───────────2023 !! #©LOVELYNEY

WRIOTHESLEY LAUGHS as you drag him through the Fortress of Meropide, drawing the attention of those around you. Though typically, you’d feel uncomfortable, embarrassed, or perhaps self-conscious under the scrutinizing gaze of others, this time, it’s different. Your attention is focused solely on Wriothesley as he holds his free hand up to his bloodied nose. Knowing Wriothesley and his job here, it’s easy to imagine it resulting from a scuffle with a particularly stubborn criminal or something along those lines. However, the truth cannot be farther from that. In actuality, you’re the one responsible for this bloody nose. . . Allow me to expand on the situation a little.

Around a week or so ago, he unexpectedly marched into your office and insisted you learn how to fight. His motives for the sudden declaration were not out of a lack of appreciation for your work at the Fortress but rather a desire for your protection while he’s away. On another note, he believes you’re too “reserved and gentle” with others—“too much like a frightened kitten rather than a fearsome lion,” as he blatantly put it. It was a comparison you found somewhat degrading, yet you couldn’t deny it did speak the truth of your nature. In the end, you decided to comply with his wishes, and from there on out, he started to teach you self-defense and train you.

Cut to the present: Wriothesley pulled you aside for your daily training session. Everything was going swimmingly at first, with you defending yourself from his attacks as usual. Then, amid it all, you accidentally hit him square in the nose and rather hard at that. The punch was neither intentional nor malicious, but it still managed to send him stumbling back and clutching his nose in pain. A tsunami of guilt and worry flooded your system as you frantically apologized to him, but he simply brushed it off and smiled. The look in his eyes was one of mild shock but also of something more. . . fond. He seemed amused rather than angry or annoyed, appearing to be impressed and even a little smitten.

Sigewinne enters the infirmary with the medical supplies you requested, stopping just inside the door to ask you a question. She furrows her brow in concern, noticing the panic in your expression. “Are you sure you don’t want me to take care of him, Mx. (Y/N)? You’re a bit pale. . . Maybe you should sit and rest for a little while,” she offers kindly.

Wriothesley observes you with a lovesick expression as you prepare a cotton swab, your tongue poking out between your lips from concentration. His heart singes when you take his hand that’s pressed to his nose and lay it gently on his lap; your skin is warm and soft compared to his, scarred and calloused, from his duties here at the Fortress.

When you assure her with that enchanting smile of yours—the same one that drives him wild—it feels like his entire body has been set on fire, and he’s certain you can feel that fire when you press your palm to his cheek to keep him still. “D—Don’t worry, Sigewinne. I’ll be alright. Thank you, though.” You answer calmly, despite your hold on him being slightly shaky.

With a brief nod of her head, Sigewinne slips out of the room, leaving you and Wriothesley alone. As you press the cotton swab to his nose, he lets out a sharp hissing sound as the disinfectant works its magic. “Ouch! Shit, maybe I didn’t give you enough credit. That was a hell of a punch. . .” he chortles, trying to lighten up your mood a little. But his amusement falters when you pout, your face a heartbreakingly adorable sight.

“I—I really am sorry, Your Grace! I didn’t expect to hit you so hard. . . In—In fact, I thought you’d move out of the way before I even got the chance too,” you lament and carefully tilt his chin up, making sure you cleaned all the blood off. “How badly does it hurt? Do—Do you want me to go get some painkillers or ice? Please, just—”

“Breathe, (Y/N).” Wriothesley’s tone is soothing as he speaks, seeming intent on consoling you. “I’m perfectly fine, sweetheart. I’ve dealt with far worse scuffs than this. So, please, don’t think for a second I’m mad at you or anything of that nature. I’m more proud than anything, really.” He adds, melting under the warmth and care of your gaze. He finds himself feeling a little selfish in this moment, wishing you’d always spend so much time doting on him. You’re always so engrossed in your work, and as much as he admires that side of you, he’s also become increasingly smitten with you without you even batting an eye. Your self-absorbed disposition has made you oblivious to his adoring eyes, and he can’t help but feel a mix of heartbreak and longing as he considers how blind you are to his affections. “Hm. . . Now that we’re alone, there is something I’ve been wanting to tell you for a while,” he admits, humming contentedly as your hand presses to his face once more, oblivious to the surge of adrenaline that shoots through his veins with every touch. Your affectionate actions result from your nurturing demeanor, but he begs silently for them to mean something more.

Your puzzled expression, bearing a resemblance to a confused puppy, only further softens the gentle smile on Wriothesley’s face. “Is that so? Is—is there a reason you’re only bringing it up now?” You inquire anxiously, teeth sinking into your lower lip. You hope that your unexpected punch wasn’t the last straw for him firing you or something like that. The worry in your voice and tension in your body language betray your deep concern, and Wriothesley finds himself smitten by your innocence and tenderness.

The duke pauses momentarily, seeming to mull something over in his mind. “It’s been harder to get you alone these days, with you always engrossed in your paperwork or helping Sigewinne. I can’t bring myself to tear you away when you’re always so faithful.” He acknowledges. His eyes linger over your lips for just a moment too long, his imagination taking over as he considers the softness of them and how they taste. His heart pounds against his ribcage as he holds back the urge to kiss those teeth away and murmur how he’s the only one allowed to ruin your lips.

You mutter the words, “My apologies, your Grace,” as you press the bandage to the bridge of his nose. Taking a step back, you freeze under the intensity of his gaze. “Well, you have my full, unrivaled attention as of r-right now...?” You try to sound confident, but your sheepish expression gives you away.

Wriothesley hums in response, amused and enticed by the sudden color that washes over your face. Clearing his throat, he slips one hand around your waist and pulls you flush against his warm frame. His eyes flutter shut for a brief moment as he allows the intensity of the moment to sink in. “Oh? Do I now? Good,” he purrs, his voice deep and velvety as it echoes in your ears—sending vibrations throughout your core. You shudder when the smooth of his fingers glide over the exposed skin on your waist, and he almost finds it a little sadistic with how much he’s enjoying you squirm when he hasn’t even done anything.

Your breathing becomes a touch erratic as you feel the lingering touch of his hand against your waist. You attempt to mask your growing excitement, skin prickling with electricity. Despite your best efforts, there’s a faint quiver in your words that you can only hope he doesn’t notice. “G—Go on. . .”

Sadly, nothing gets past Wriothesley’s gaze, and he’s able to take note of your trembling voice and hands; he isn’t the duke for nothing, after all. He can’t help but feel the boost to his ego when he realizes he has a tight grip over you at this moment. With a swift tug, you’re suddenly pushed against his broad chest, eyes blown wide. He chuckles as you choke over your words, swiping his thumb over your bottom lip. “You know, (princess/prince). . . I can’t tell if you’re just dense or trying to prove something to yourself.” The raven-haired male teases. “I’ve been smitten with you for weeks now, you know,” he presses, eyes trained on your expression to read any changes. “I can’t help but wonder if you’re as aware as your actions suggest—or if you have been merely feigning ignorance. Please, explain yourself.”

Your breath catches in your throat as the magnitude of Wriothesley’s words settles in; he’s so direct and brazen with his declaration that it sucks all the breath out of your lungs. Your mind races as you grapple with the sudden realization that he is just as enamored with you as you are with him. Your expression must speak louder than words because as you open your lips to speak, Wriothesley closes the distance—slotting his mouth on yours.

It sends all your senses reeling like they’ve been drenched in ice water after burning for too long. Like a balm and a spark, it’s both a soothing salve and a blazing inferno, comforting and ravaging you in equal measure. All the tension of your attraction has suddenly become a physical manifestation, the culmination of all the unspoken words and feelings that have gone unsaid for too long.

Wriothesley pulls himself even closer to you, his passion only intensifying the longer the kiss carries on. The feeling of his body pressing against yours ignites a primal urge within you, driving the kisses to become more intense. His hands slide further down the bare flesh of your back, tracing your waist in a possessive claim to your body. His tongue dives underneath your bottom lip; it probes between them, trying to gain access to the interior of your mouth.

A noise akin to a muffled whimper escapes your throat as his tongue pushes into your mouth with a feverish, nearly desperate need. The intensity of the sensation is overwhelming, and you feel yourself shudder with a sense of raw desire as his hand slides down from your hip to your thigh, his fingers squeezing and digging into the soft flesh. His touch is both tender and possessive, sending your nerves reeling.

When his fingers climb closer up your thighs, you plant your hands on his face and gently push his head away, his mouth chasing after yours instantaneously. You sigh softly, your face flushed scarlet from the heat of the situation. “Wriothesley. . . We are still in your office. Anyone can walk in at any time.” You chuckle, swiping the saliva from his bottom lip.

His body hums with contentment at the breathless sound of his name coming from your lips. He lets out a displeased huff as he nestles his nose in the crook of your neck, sharply inhaling your scent and drowning himself in the warmth of your body. He absentmindedly starts nipping at your skin, “And? I’ve had enough nights getting off—”

“O—Okayokay! As an. . . apology for keeping you waiting, how about after work, we fulfill those fantasies of yours?” You chuckle nervously and thread your fingers through his hair, smiling when he leans his entire body onto you. “Don’t think I didn’t see the way some of the inmates looked at me when I dragged you in here. . . I don’t think I could recover if they walked in and found out they guessed right.”

Wriothesley’s laughter is like a deep, thunderous rumble that soon after swarms your stomach with butterflies. His kisses pepper your face in response, the sweet scent of your skin filling him with a sense of contentment. He pulls away and smiles down at you, the heat and adoration in his eyes impossible to miss. “After work, then,” he repeats and holds up his pinky, signaling you to do the same. Rolling your eyes, you indulge him and hook your pinky to his—a cutesy gesture veiled in a not-so-innocent promise.

#꒱₊˚ fawn’s flowers #꒱₊˚ lumindounce bells #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin impact x y/n #wriothesley #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley x you #wriothesley x y/n #wriothesley fluff #genshin fluff

959 notes · View notes

talaok · 8 months

Text

Keeping up

Pairing: No outbreak!Joel Miller x reader

Summary: You convince Joel to go on a hike with you, but being that he's 56 years of age, he gets home barely in one piece, which means he needs a massage, which may lead to something more...

Warnings: age gap (reader's 25 and Joel's 56), a lot of sexually allusive jokes and stuff, and very soft and fluffy smut (unprotected p in v sex)

"Keep up, Grandpa!" you called, turning around and catching him taking yet another break.

He had his knee popped to the side and his hands on his waist as he pretended to take in the view while really just trying to calm his heavy breathing

He had fallen behind a while ago, but kept insisting you continued at your pace.

It took a lot of convincing to persuade him to go hiking with you, some unconventional, but definitely effective methods of persuasion were used, and finally, this morning, you had managed to make him cave in.

It was only a two-hour hike, but he was acting like he'd been walking for ten days and nights with no food and water.

"I'm coming!" his voice sounded through the woods.

"You sure?" You couldn't help but grin, watching his chest rising and falling way too quickly

"I just need a moment"

Letting out a breathy smile, you retraced your steps on the makeshift track to reach his side.

"Tired?" you asked, already knowing the real answer, and the one he was gonna give you.

"Nope" he lied, making you chuckle.

He was so predictable

"Ah" you hummed, mocking him "so you're choosing to walk ten steps behind me"

He turned to look at you, his hazel eyes sparking with mischief

"Well, I don't mind the view these leggings of yours are giving me..." he arched a brow as his hands reached for your ass through the fabric.

"perv" you smirked

"Yup, that's me" he nodded, bringing you in for a kiss.

He could never get enough of you.

He had no idea how he had managed to make you fall in love with him, and so he acted accordingly, kissing and touching you every chance he got in case one day he was gonna wake up and this turned out to be just a dream.

"at least you admit it" you joked, biting his bottom lip playfully.

Oh how he fucking loved you

"C'mon now, we're almost there" You smiled that stunning smile of yours that made him almost forget how tired he was.

"You said that an hour ago too, angel" he reminded you

"I did, didn't I?" you smirked, starting up the hill again, and leaving him behind to wonder how the hell he had ended up there.

But then of course he knew... his ability to say no to you seemed to disappear every time his cock was in your mouth.

__ __ __

"goddamnit sweetheart" he groaned, laying on the bed face down.

He didn't bother to change into his clothes simply because he couldn't, the towel around his waist was gonna have to do.

By the look of it, your advice of "A hot shower will help you out" hadn't really worked.

"Poor baby" you cooed, setting your book down on the nightstand to pay attention to him.

"I'm never hiking with you again" he sighed "I'm hurting everywhere"

"I'm sorry" You stifled a smile at his pained expression "Here," you said, getting an idea "How 'bout a massage?"

"Mh that does sound good" he considered

"Yeah?" you asked, getting on your knees beside him

"Yeah darlin'"

You smiled, as you gingerly straddled his hips, not wanting to hurt him.

You rubbed your hands together to make them hot and then gently pressed them against the very top of his broad back, slowly starting to make your way to his shoulders to rub his pain away.

He groaned in pleasure beneath you

"fuck that feels good" he breathed once you applied more pressure.

You chuckled "I've heard that one before"

"Mh, I'm sure you have, angel" he grinned, closing his eyes as you took such good care of him.

You smiled as you started massaging his lower back too, drawing circles with your thumbs and relaxing his muscles one at a time.

"You're really good at this sugar," he spoke, as his hand found your right leg and started caressing it slowly to try and pay you back a little bit.

"Why thank you" Your lips pulled into a smile "I'm a woman of many talents you know?" you murmured sultrily, bending down to gently press a kiss to his neck.

"I know that very well, darlin'"

"Good" you nodded, finishing up his back "Now turn around"

"Yes ma'am" he obeyed immidately once you got off of him, just to climb back immediately once his back was on the mattress.

His heart couldn't help but skip a beat at the sight above him.

You looked so fucking sexy drowning in that shirt of his, and the fact that he was pretty sure you only had a pair of panties underneath it, only made it worst for him.

You didn't seem to notice the way he was practically eating you up with his eyes as you started massaging his chest.

God those hands of yours deserved their special place in heaven

He watched you biting your lips to concentrate as your fingers made all his pain disappear for just a moment.

Suddenly, he noticed a smirk splitting your face as you looked up at him.

"I see somebody isn't as tired as you" You raised an eyebrow before gently rubbing your core against his growing bulge.

"oh fuck" Joel breathed heavily

"Sweetheart..." he murmured pleadingly as you did it again

"What?" you teased

"Trust me I'd love to fuck you right now, but I'm afraid that if I move one single muscle I'll have to go to the emergency room"

The chuckle that left your throat sounded more like angels singing to Joel.

"Who says you have to move a muscle?" you asked mischievously, as your hand slowly reached for the towel around his waist, undoing it in one swift move.

"Oh darlin'" he grinned lazily, "I'll never know what I did to deserve you"

You laughed softly at how happy he looked, before getting rid of his towel and taking his cock in your hand.

He was throbbing already

You stroked him a few times before you let your fingers find your panties and quickly pulled them to the side.

You wasted no time sinking down onto his length.

Giving him this massage had worked you up just as much as him.

his groans merged with your moans at the motion

"f-fuck" you muttered

No matter how many times you had sex with him, your pussy never really got used to the stretch.

"goddamnit darlin', you feel so good" he breathed

You smiled down at him before deciding to take off your shirt.

You didn't want it to get all sweaty...

He groaned even louder at the sight.

Your perfect tits bare before him, your perfect cunt hugging his cock so well, your perfect mouth parted as you sucked in ragged breaths, and then finally your perfect blown-out pupils staring down at him like he was the most handsome man on earth.

You were a fucking vision.

"fucking christ angel-" he growled as you started moving up and down his shaft "Look at you" he whispered, not able to stop his hands once they reached for your waist "How are you this fucking perfect?"

You just let out a breathy chuckle, continuing to bounce on his cock.

God, it felt good.

He always managed to hit that spot inside of you that made you feel better than anything else.

Your nails clawed at his chest, no doubt leaving some scratches, not that he minded... he loved when you marked him up.

Suddenly, you sped up your movements, making him tighten his hold on you

"Jesus Christ sugar" he groaned "How do you still have any energy left?"

I mean every muscle of his had given up even trying, while you... well while you still had the energy to ride him like a damn pornstar.

And he would have liked to say this was the first time something like this had happened, but the truth was that the difference of age between him and you had made itself heard more times than he liked to admit.

He wasn't a teenager anymore, his back wasn't the same, his stamina wasn't the same, and you... Well, you were the exact opposite.

You were unstoppable, and fuck but you were insatiable

Before you, Joel got laid maybe once every six months, and now he found himself having sex at least twice a day.

Not that he was complaining obviously, it's just that he sometimes still wondered how the fuck you managed to pull it off.

"That's what being 25 will do to ya" You smiled, leaning closer to him to kiss his neck

"Mhh" he hummed, as one of his hands reached upwards to grab your tits "You're saying I'm old?"

The soft sound of your laugh tickled his ear

"I'm saying I'm young" you answered, rubbing your nose against his beard until his mouth was right in front of yours and all you needed to do was kiss him.

One of your hands had to grab at his shoulders as you felt your orgasm approach.

"oh fuck baby" you breathed, ghosting his mouth

"you coming?" he asked, watching as you shut your eyes, lost in pleasure.

"mh-mh" you managed to nod, before you hid your face in the crook of his neck and bit down onto whatever piece of skin you could reach.

"That's a good girl" he praised as his left hand found your butt and gave it a good squeeze "Give it to me angel" he urged

And without another word, you did, squeezing him and making him come just as you were coming down your own climax.

If he had to be honest he had been close since you had taken off your shirt.

"mhhh" you hummed satisfied, as you leaned away a little to look at him.

His lips looked way too delicious, so for good measure, you met them with yours for a brief moment.

"goddamnit sweetheart, you're gonna kill me one of these days" he smiled, gently stroking your sides

"Yeah..." a mischievous smirk erupted from your lips "and that day might be today"

"What are you talking about?"

You grinned

"Ready for round two cowboy?"

2K notes · View notes

battymommastuff · 2 months

Text

The Other Side

Batmom x Batman, Batmom x Batfamily

Prompt: While digging through the attic, Dick Grayson and Jason Todd uncover a secret about their adoptive mother. A secret that reveals the true, and dark story of the most loved couple in Gotham City

!!TW!! - MENTIONS OF SA AND OTHER DARK THEMES

Part 1 Part 2 Masterlist

!!DISCLAIMER!! - This likely won't be comic accurate (Obviously), but I did draw inspiration from the comics. If you are looking for something accurate, then this fanfic isn't for you.

You didn't get a chance to address the deep voice before a cloth was covering your face and the world went dark. A throbbing pain came next when you awoke. You were laying on a very luxurious bed. Looking down, you saw that you were still in your same clothing. Just a silk robe that covered your underwear. Your heart was racing as you looked around the room. Whoever lived here, lived in style. Everything looked as if it would cost you bodily organs to own.

Before the shock could wear off, the two massive double doors opened, and a man walked into the room. A mask covering his face, and his eyes watched you carefully. Your body visibly shrunk as you stared at the intimidating man across the room from you, "Ms. (L/N), I do want to apologize for the rather harsh retrieval of you. We have to take precautionary measures these days." The man said while stepping closer to you. He stepped into the moonlight, and you finally saw every detail of his mask. A golden bird mask...no owl mask. What the hell is going on?

"W-What do you want with me?" You asked, moving off of the bed once he got too close to you. The bed now served as a barrier between you and your kidnapper, but it didn't provide any comfort for you. All you could think of was being raped, and sold on the black market. Gotham City wasn't the safest city, but you never thought this would happen to you. How did this happen? There was always security watching over the bunk area every night to make sure this never happened. How did these men get in to kidnap you? Whatever the reason, you didn't feel safe with the circus anymore.

"To give you a chance...a chance to be apart of something great. My organization works from the shadows to ensure the safety of our beautiful city..." Beautiful isn't a word you would use, but sure, "You possess a talent that could be beneficial to our cause." The man picked up a remote and turned the tv on. What played was several of your acts and some of your rehearsals. All taken from vantage points, and places that you wouldn't have noticed someone watching you, "We've come to realize that our organization is seen as a myth, a boogeyman. Many criminals fear us, and with your talents...we could harness that fear." He stepped around the bed and started making his way towards you once again. The fear you felt kept your legs from moving, so this time he got uncomfortably close to you, "Join us (Y/N). Join us and help us purge Gotham of everything that taints it."

The Court of Owls. One of Gotham's scariest myths. You've heard whispers of them while spending days in the city. Some of your fellow performers even mentioned them once or twice. Everything you've ever heard was never good. This cult believes they are doing the right thing, but are harming so many in the process. You couldn't join them...you couldn't live your life in the shadows. What could ever be so wonderful about someone so full of darkness? It seemed that the man saw what you were thinking, and he backed away, "Such a shame...you would have been such a valuable asset. I'm afraid if you won't join us, then we have to do away with you. You will pose a risk to all of us." The man turned his back towards you, and you knew now was your chance. Grabbing the closest thing to you; a lamp, you hit him over the bed. The man dropped to the ground, and you ran to the window. Luckily you weren't too high from the ground, so you pushed the window open and climbed out.

You could hear voices and yelling as you dashed into the dark, raining city. You hadn't a clue where you were going, but anywhere would be better than this. The circus would be the first place they would look, so you had to find somewhere new. You could hear footsteps behind you as well as some above you. They were after you, and they were fast. Thankfully, your breathing training worked wonders. Still you were no match for these skilled men. They managed to corner you into a dead end alley. This is it. The place where your dead body would be found. It all ended here. The vile smell of puke, piss, and garbage filled your nose as you looked around at the court members closing in on you, "P-Please...I promise I won't tell anyone. Just let me go." You pleaded, but it seemed to fall on deaf ears. From behind you were pushed to your knees, and you could see your reflection in the blade meant for your death.

The member lifted the blade up, but before it could meet your skin...a rope wrapped around their wrist. With a scream, they were pulled into the darkness. It felt as if all sound in the city stopped...everything went quiet. You felt fear before, but this was a new level of fear. A fear that you never would forget. A black shadow flew by, grabbing another member. This caused the rest of them to ignore you, and turned their attention to their surroundings. Now would have been the perfect time to run, but your legs were screaming. The adrenaline was wearing off, and it felt like you couldn't move an inch. A bolt of lightning flashed through the sky, right as a shadow covered the alley...a shadow of a bat. The mysterious savior dropped down on one of the members, and a fight broke out. You could only watch in awe as your savior took down every single member without much struggle. Once it was over, the figure turned towards you. Again the lighting allowed you a glimpse of him. The bat symbol of his chest matched the one in the night sky.

"Batman..." You whispered, with relief before your eyes rolled back and you slumped to the ground. Batman walked towards you, and gently picked you up from the ground. He didn't see any visible injuries besides little scrapes on your knees from being pushed to the ground. Even now you were just as beautiful as you were while performing. He held you close and summoned the Batmobile. No hospital in Gotham would be safe enough for you. He needed to take you to the batcave. There you would be safe, and he could question you.

"Alfred, get the med-bay ready. We have a guest." Batman said into his comms, after sitting you in the passenger seat. Your head leaned on the window, but your lips were starting to turn blue. Judging from your attire, you must have been getting ready for bed. With one final look over to make sure you were secure, he raced off into the streets of Gotham to the batcave.

TAGLIST

@maxinehufflepuffprincess @tayswhp @rainycloud858 @luna-zendra-star @starlets-things @simpfourmarvel @kawaistrawberry21 @js-favnanadoongi @kodzukenmaaa @xxrougefangxx @pixviee @discocactus-world @b4tm4nn @minimoxha @crutoyu @nightw-izhu @legendarylearner18 @mangegeek17 @pixiedust0604 @that-one-fangirl69

617 notes · View notes

purplestars222 · 2 months

Text

Period comfort with hazbin characters

ft alastor, lucifer, fallen!adam and husk

gn afab reader! no y/n used, and you arent in a relationship with alastor, just besties <3 all the other boys have a crush on you.

there will be more parts, may not be period comfort tho, just more hazbin/helluva characters comforting the reader while theyre sick

cw: mentions of period sex, adam is chubby, slight ooc

mdni please<3

Alastor

The smell of blood draws alastor to your room, hes a little worried that you're hurt, but its nothing he cant fix. As he enters your room, and sees you curled up in the fetal position he goes and sits next to you

"Darling, whats the matter? It's a wonderful day and you're spending it in bed! I believe Charlie is baking cookies! You-"

"go away alastor. i'm on my period."

"Well why didnt you say so!"

Alastor disappears into his shadow, and returns a few minutes later with a hot water bottle, a bottle of cold water, some pain meds and dark chocolate. He throws the items on your bed and smiles at you expectingly. You shoot him back a smile of appreciation. Even tho alastor and you had your moments, he's still a good friend when he needs to be.

Lucifer

Lucifer has a crush on you, and its no secret either. Every day he sits next to you during breakfast, he always makes sure you eat enough. He always does Charlie's silly little trust exercises with you, just being in your vicinity makes him happy. When you dont come down for breakfast, he gets worried, he made your favourite for you- pancakes! He decides to take some to your room. When he enters, and sees you curled up on the bed, he sits the tray of pancakes on your bedside table and sits next to you

"Hey, you didnt come down for breakfast, are you okay??"

you shake your head no, and he seems really concerned. He hates seeing you in pain, its horrible. Suddenly he remembers something- lillith acted like this when she first came to hell, periods. In the garden of eden, lilliths periods didnt hurt her, but as soon as she came to hell, it felt like her uterus was stabbing her, luckily luci fixed it

"Can i help?"

You stare up at him, eyes slightly watering from the pain and nod your head, anything to get rid of this. Luci carefully peels back your blanket and rests his hands on your groin, you shiver at the feeling of his warm hands, its nice. Theres a bright glow of golden light, and suddenly, the pains gone, the period pain at least, you still have a headache, and you're still pretty exhausted. You pull luci into a hug, he hugs back, giving you a kiss on the head

"Want me to run you a bath, sweetheart?"

"Yes please"

Lucifer hops up and heads into your ensuite, he starts a bath, making sure to get some really nice smelling soap and bath salts. He puts some rose petals in the tub to make it look pretty, and a couple of rubber duckies. Lucifer cares so much, hes so sweet.

Adam

Adam doesn't really understand the whole 'periods thing'. They didn't have them in heaven, so he doesn't really know what to do when you wake up grabbing your stomach. He pulls out his phone and decides to have a look online to see if there's anything he can get that will help, theres products from the vee's, but he doesnt trust those fuckers. He scrolls across an article that says orgasms can help with period cramps. When adam first shoots the idea at you, you're hesitant, period sex isnt something you've done before, and it seems a little scary, but you let him. He puts a towel under the both of you, and he makes sure that you 100% wanna do this before he gets started. When you guys have done, your pains are pretty much gone. he pulls you on top of him and you just lay there for awhile, enjoying the warmth from adams soft belly <3

Husk

Husk isn't too educated with this stuff either, but he knows how to take care of someone when they're sick. He doesn't realise you have your period at first, he just thinks it's a stomach bug. He gets you some chicken noodle soup and a few painkillers, when you explain to him that you have no appetite because of how bad the pain is, it suddenly clicks in his brain what's happening. He gives you a small kiss on the forehead, then walks out. He goes to charlie asking for help, she gathers together a basket full of snacks, pads, tampons, a menstrual cup, period underwear, hot water bottle with a cute cat cover and some noise cancelling headphones, in case things get overwhelming. Husk brings it back to you and lets you snuggle into him, something he doesn't allow very often. You spend the next few days cuddled up in bed, playing with husks ears watching movies. He helps you when you need to shower, and also keeps your hot water bottle hot. he just really enjoys taking care of you, not that he'd admit that

499 notes · View notes

honestsycrets · 9 months

Note

Hey! if your requests are open can you do a drabble where the spider society meets Miguel's and readers baby for the first time? like they show up with her one day where the sitter couldn't make it or something and it's so wild to see Miguel be so soft with her

❛ summary | Miguel doesn't feel secure letting anyone watch his daughter-- not even Peter. or, gwen tries to hold miguel's daughter for the first time.

❛ sy's notes | slightly different than the request above but still in the same vein.

❛ tags | reader and child from starved, family piece, some angst, some sweetness, reference to loss of child, mention of pregnancy.

He just had to do it.

Despite the fact that Miguel knew everything about his body being amped up, he missed how it felt. In his rush to have sex, he didn’t consider the possibility that you could have been ovulating. That the temporary amenorrhea wouldn’t last. It was his miscalculation. A miscalculation resulted in Mireya’s presence in his lab, chewing on his knuckle as some poor substitute for a teething toy.

“Ay chingado, where is that pinche--” he huffed under his breath, rummaging around his cluttered desk for the damn toy. Mireya pinched down on his finger again with those bright brown eyes, twinkling with mischievous curiosity for why her papi was cussing again. His claw popped forth, drawing a fantastic giggle careening from her lips. Miguel retracted them again, shaking his hand out at his side. “Are those fangs or teeth in there, mija, hm?”

“That’s cute.”

In his preoccupation with his daughter, he hadn’t necessarily heard the pitter-patter of feet behind him. Despite what everyone might think, Miguel doesn’t like visitors in his lab. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, realizing that it was Gwen in the lab. Great, he expelled a great puff of air. Wherever Gwen was, Jess or Peter never seemed to be too far behind.

“What is?”

“Mireya,” she bounced forward, hands behind her back, inspecting Mireya with a twinge of a smile. It grew on her lips, just a little. She flicked her index finger, making a point that he really didn’t feel like hearing. “And you too. I mean, even if you cuss a little at her. You’re so soft with her.”

“Enjoy the sight while it lasts.” Miguel bit out, drawing into a little sigh as he cradles his daughter close. “But I’m not cussing at her, I’m looking for her teething chew-- which is not my finger, Mireya.”

She bites down on his palm. Miguel’s face screws up in annoyance, rather than pain, settling a small kiss on the top of her head. Her soft baby curls tickle his lips. He turns back to his panels, inspecting the anomaly he had been tracking all afternoon. She bites him again.

“Wherever that thing went, carajo! Lyla, ¿dónde está?!” He forgot that his daughter had a low tolerance for his outbursts. Unlike Gwen, Peter, or even you, Miguel was usually well aware of his rising volume. Gwen held up her palms.

“No, mi vida, no, I’m sorry,” Mireya’s lower lip quivered, revving up in another sharp cry that Miguel hardly had the patience for. Her cry burst free, causing Miguel to tear away from Gwen, sliding Mireya onto his broad shoulder. He pats her back gently. “Is there a reason you’re here?”

“Your wife sent me to help you. I’d… I’d really like to hold her. I mean. If you’re willing.”

"¿Qué?" Miguel hissed, hiding the flash of displeasure that ripped across his face. Of course, you sent a teenage kid to come take a daughter from him! Why wouldn’t you? No way in hell— he took a step away, the sharpest way he could say no. Almost a year old and still Gwen had not held her.

“She shouldn’t have. I don’t need help.”

“She said you’d say that,” Gwen tippy-toed up to Miguel’s shoulder, peeping at Mireya’s big brown eyes. She screwed them shut, burning through another red-hot wail of pain. If Gwen didn't leave him alone--

“What exactly did she say?”

“Mireya’s teething and Miguel has a bad temper.”

A bad temper, she said. Miguel scrunched up his nose.

“Tch. Of course, I never would have guessed.”

He heard another set of feet. Two, actually. He expected to see Peter’s too-happy smile beaming at him like an aggravating ray of morning light. He didn’t, however, expect your eyes to stare right back at him. Your voice cut right through Mireya’s inconsolable cries.

“Miggy, are you giving Gwen a hard time?”

He chewed on his words, using his foot to roll his chair out from his desk. You hopped onto the platform with Peter’s aid, a task on its own with your swollen belly behind a deep blue gown. Mireya’s sharp cries fizzled out into little chirps, somehow pleased with your presence. Miguel, however, was not.

“There’s my girl!” Peter slapped his hands together, rushing forward when you were secure on the platform. Peter couldn’t help himself, even amid a fight. She bounced on Miguel’s shoulder, palms extended, squeezing and releasing. Why did she have to love Peter? “Hi, Mireya!”

“No. You should be resting,” Miguel pointed toward his chair. You didn’t fight him on it, sliding into it with your hand under your belly to support the child that brewed in your stomach. He couldn’t help but feel a string of guilt for the exhaustion that was so easily apparent on your face. It’s why he took her-- in the hope that you would sleep.

“I would if I knew you would take the help.”

Peter swerved around Gwen, peering over Miguel’s shoulder at her squishy little body in double the glee the little girl looked at him with.

“I don’t need help.”

“Lyla says you do,” you tilted back in the chair, folding your arms just under your swollen chest. Miguel threw another curse under his breath. The AI who mysteriously was not listening to any of his commands. “And if Lyla says you do, then you do.”

He could have fought you but as fate would have it, you were close to pushing out another child of his. He glared at the glittering stone of your ring on your finger and relented, his head bobbing into a complacent nod. As per usual, you won.

“Fine, por hoy,” he said with a heavy breath, turning over to face Gwen. She cracked a nervous smile as he leaned in, settling Mireya in her arms. Gwen’s big eyes snapped down to the little girl, insecurity trickling from her person. Miguel picked up on it like blood pouring into a cup of water. “If you hurt her, I’ll—“

“Miguel, no threats.”

He cursed.

“Now that that’s settled,” Peter ran his hands together, swiping up the chew toy that Miguel had been looking for. He obnoxiously slid Mireya out of Gwen’s arms, the only person that Miguel would allow his daughter to be held by without standing threats. “Come to Uncle Peter! We can go get ice cream with Hobie and Pavitr, just you and me and Gwen!"

Hobie and Pavitr? He never--

“Tio Peter,” Gwen corrected, stroking her upper arm nervously.

“Tio Peter."

Miguel couldn’t help but watch the pair slip away-- talking about things like ice cream for toothaches, park dates, and fun as they slipped into a portal. You caught Miguel’s hand, stopping him from jerking to snatch her back up.

“She’s safe with them,” It itched-- it itched all over. The terrible feeling that no, his Mireya was not safe with Peter, or Gwen, or Jess, or anyone else that wasn’t him. If even him. You stood up. “Miguel, Miguel no--”

He snapped to the monitor, drawing forth Gwen and Peter, his hand at his lip. Your stomach pressed into his back. His third-- no second-- child. His hand fell to your arms that intertwined around his muscular midsection. “She’s almost one. We talked about this. You said Peter was the only one you’d trust to watch her.”

“Almost one,” he laughed it off, his hand falling away from his lips. “She could be forty and I would still worry.”

“You don’t trust Peter?”

“I don’t even trust myself.” He threw you back a glance, an undercurrent of sadness flowed through the words.

“I do, mi amorcito,” You held him a little tighter, finding the words came as easily as the movements of the child in your belly against his back. Miguel bit back a small smile at the feeling, following Peter and Gwen choosing ice cream for his little girl. The door jingled with a bell-- Hobie and Pavitr strode in, because of course they did, it couldn't just be a quiet outing. Who was next? Miles? “And I trust Peter too.”

“I know you do.”

Vanilla? Cotton candy? Not the cotton candy. If they only knew. It’s strawberry. Mireya’s favorite is strawberry. Gabriella’s was vanilla. His shoulders relaxed, watching Peter present a small sample of strawberry to his little princesa.

“Bueno,” he slid his hand on top of yours. “I could… go for an empanada. ¿Quieres ir conmigo?”

“Sí,” you beamed. “Let's go. Just you and me.”

It’s a strange feeling— being without his little girl. At least for today, he’s certain she’ll be okay.

#miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara oneshot #miguel ohara x reader #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara/reader #miguel o'hara x reader #spider 2099 x reader #spiderman imagine #spiderman imagines #atsv x reader #atsv imagines #atsv x you #atsv imagine #atsv miguel imagine #miguel o'hara fluff #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara imagine

3K notes · View notes

ludwig-van-gaythoven · 7 days

Text

Cabin Fever - (Regina George x F Reader) Part 5

Fandom;

Mean Girls (2024)

Pairings:

Regina George x Reader

Summary:

The students of Northshore go on a school trip for a week in the forest. You end up getting to know the apex predator in a way you’d never seen her before.

Warnings;

Underage smoking, underage drinking, Claustrophobia, homophobia mention

Parts;

Part1// Part 2// Part 3// Part 4// Part 5

“Why the fuck is Regina in your room? Why are you even speaking to her? Dude! Fucking answer me!”

Janis’s voice is so loud down the tiny phone speaker that it makes it buzz like an annoying little mosquito.

You scowl and resist the creeping urge to hang up, and throw your phone far far away, maybe off a cliff. You click the volume down and try and muffle the sound of Janis ranting down the speaker by shoving the receiver deep into your pocket, but it’s too late.

Regina has already left. Her bedsheets are left thrown back and crumpled, she usually fixes the blankets back to perfection so she clearly left in a hurry.

You grab your jacket with a huff and stomp outside the cabin to stand in your usual smoking spot and light a much needed cigarette before putting the phone up to you ear.

Janis is still yelling, finishing a sentence you didn’t hear the start of. Some accusation about alliances with the enemy.

“Fucking hell, Janis! It’s not that big of a deal!” You finally snap.

The phone goes silent. It’s a welcome break but you know she’ll start up again.

“Yeah sure, my best friend suddenly being pals with Regina George, not a big deal.” She snarks. “Can I just remind you, that bitch nearly ruined my life! Is that why you’re ignoring my calls? Because you’re too busy becoming plastic?”

You sigh. “It’s not like that.”

That’s true. You haven’t been morphed into some sort of Barbie doll all of a sudden just because you spent some time with Regina. To be truthful, you realise Regina isn’t really like that either. She’s a little messy, she’s flawed, but you think she’s more perfect like that. Your face softens slightly at the memory of yesterday, her mascara dripping down her cheeks with a big grin plastered on her face. She wears a fake mask to protect anyone from seeing her real personality. You get it. It’s easier to take a rejection when you haven’t really shown your true identity.

Your heart aches to defend her. To tell Janis to back off, but you can’t. She wouldn’t understand.

“Look, she got roomed with me because she got drunk with Gretchen and Karen on the first night so the teachers wanted to split them up.” You explain as calmly as you can while your blood boils beneath the surface.

“So why didn’t you think to mention this when I called last?” She snaps back. She’s caught you there.

“Because I knew you’d go all revenge-crazed and pissed off like this!” You shout back. You hear Janis scoff.

“Whatever, I don’t give a shit about Regina. She literally means nothing to me! Less than nothing, I just want to see that bitch suffer-“

“Then why can’t you stop talking about her!” As soon as the words leave your mouth you regret them.

“Fuck you, man.” She doesn’t even give you a second before hanging up.

You take a long draw of the cigarette that’s spent most of its time burning away between your fingers. You felt guilty about arguing with Janis, she’d been your best friend since the start of high school, and you could still see the pain that Regina had caused was still playing on her. You didn’t know the full details but you knew that Regina had outed her in a cruel way and made her out to be obsessed just so she could be with a boy. But that was a while ago, people can change.

So why hadn’t you been able to tell her that you liked girls when she hinted at it? You couldn’t even trust her fully.

You couldn’t help your mind wandering to where Regina might be. That seems to be all you can think about recently. Regina. You never fell for her Queen Bee attitude, high school drama was boring to you, you’d rather steer clear of it. But this new, playful, carefree side to her? You couldn’t get enough of.

She’s probably snuck off to meet Gretchen and Karen. You were surprised that she’d actually followed rules for once and not gone to meet them yet. Was it because you had been there with her instead? She said last night that she had enjoyed hanging out with you.

How much of the phone call had she heard before she left?

You light another cigarette. It’s not like you to chain smoke like this but you can’t help it when you’re stressed. The smoke whirls out in front of you, lines of wispy grey entangle and then disappear in-front of your eyes.

You head back inside the cabin when you’re done. Regina still isn’t back.

You lift your bedsheets ready to try unsuccessfully to get some sort of rest and find tiny pieces of paper, shredded on your mattress. It’s the drawing Regina took.

She clearly heard more than she was meant to.

You brush it onto the floor, not bothering to collect the tiny scraps, that felt more like little broken pieces of your soul.

When you finally close your eyes you’re back in the clearing. This time you don’t feel afraid and you automatically start scanning the shadows between the trees. A pair of blue eyes catch yours, as usual, but as soon as you take a step forward,the big cat slinks back into the shadows and disappears.

When you wake up, Regina still isn’t back. Your stomach sinks. She probably won’t want to speak to you ever again, you won’t even get a chance to explain.

You know you have to be up and ready in 20 minutes but you don’t want to get out of bed, or risk bumping into Regina.

It’s pretty hot outside and you’re not sure what the activity will be today so you put on a black tank and some loose khaki trousers. Regina must have been back when you were asleep because her bed is made and her cupboard door is left open.

When you go over to the campfire pit, she is already there. She’s standing around with the usual two girls but she’s also next to Shane Oman.

That makes you nauseous. He’s grinning and so obviously checking Regina out.

She starts running her hand up and down his bicep and over his chest, giggling and leaning into him. He’s loving it and has a hand around her waist. You turn around so you don’t have to look at whatever show they’re putting on.

It feels like she’s doing it just to spite you.

Seeing her that close to him makes your stomach knot with jealousy, it shouldn’t, it’s not like you’re together.

“Okay everyone listen up! Today and tomorrow are the last days of camp, so you will be hiking and setting up your own camp for tonight. This will combine all of the skills you have learnt this week!” There’s a dull chatter of excitement as maps are passed around and people start getting into groups.

You secretly hoped you’d be paired in cabin groups so Regina might actually hear you out and stop being so pissed off. It would get her away from Shane too.

Much to your annoyance, you’re told you have to pair up with Regina, Gretchen, Karen and Shane because apparently it’s unsafe to go alone.

You’d actually rather be eaten by a bear.

Each group is given a tent, you’re given two, the teachers tell you Shane has to stay in one separately but you know that won’t happen. You’re hoping you can just keep that tent for yourself. You’re also given other supplies like cooking utensils, scissors, a mallet, rope etc.

Shane offers to carry both tents in a pitiful attempt to seem strong and manly. Regina plays straight into it and makes a big deal out of grabbing Shane’s hand and feeling his arms.

It makes you roll your eyes. You’re sure you see the corners of Regina’s lips curve in a smirk.

You end up carrying one of the tents anyway, it’s pretty heavy but at least it gives you an excuse to stay at the back of the group, it’s not like you’ll have anything to talk to them about.

Regina walks in-front of you with Karen and Gretchen on one side, and Shane on the other. You’re pretty sure everyone has forgotten your existence, apart from Regina perhaps.

She’s wearing a black crop top and baby pink mini skirt, it makes being behind the group kind of worth it.

After about 2 hours you get to a dead end, there’s a large rock ledge with a few crude dips for you to put your hands and feet to climb up. There are thick shrubs either side to stop anyone going around. This must be what they meant by testing the skills you’d learnt.

Regina goes up first, Shane is standing almost directly underneath her and is grinning to himself. It makes your stomach turn. She climbs up easily, and stands with her arms folded impatiently when she gets to the top.

Shane goes up next, again making a big deal of being so manly, he practically jumps from one step to re other up the ledge. It makes you cringe. He looks more like an ape.

Regina catches your expression and as soon as he’s up she’s all over him again. Is this some sort of punishment? But why would she be trying to make you jealous that way?

You go up last. It’s not too high so you’re not really afraid.

“Don’t fall, loser.” Regina spits and the whole group burst out laughing.

It stings but you ignore it and carry on walking behind them once you reach the top. Whatever she’s trying to do, to get under your skin, to piss you off, you’re not going to give her the satisfaction.

You notice Shane’s hand sneak down from her waist towards her ass and Regina visibly stiffens and moves away slightly.

Soon enough you come to a small opening in the rocks, must be the second challenge. Even from behind you see Regina tense up. It’s just a narrow crawl space that likely pops out quickly on the other side. There’s a wall of rock that seems impossible to climb that looks to go on for a while either side.

Shane goes through first, followed by Gretchen and Karen.

“I’m not fucking doing that.” Regina huffs once it’s just the two of you, raising her hands. “I’ll walk around.”

“It looks like you’ll be walking for a while.” You try and reason, but she’s already started walking.

“I’ll come with you.” You’re not sure why you offer. The suns setting slightly and you don’t like the idea of Regina going alone. Even if it is just a few minutes to walk around the obstacle.

You follow behind in silence as she walks along the rock wall, thinking about all the things you wish you could say. I’m sorry about what Janis said, I don’t agree with her. I like hanging out with you, I think you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met, inside and out.

You want to reach out and take her hand like she was doing with Shane, especially since now you know how soft she is.

You want to gently cup her face and kiss her, feel her soft lips and be intoxicated by her warm vanilla scent. You want to ask her on a date, maybe go to the movies, take her for a nice dinner, kiss her on the front porch.

All the things she’s probably done, or will do with Shane.

It feels like you’re walking for ages, it’s quite a lot darker than when you started. Regina keeps a quick pace ahead of you. Her face fixed in a permanent scowl.

You finally turn the corner and see the entrance to the small cave.

Nobody is there, they’ve left. How long did it even take you to walk round anyway?

“What the FUCK.” She screams. It’s so loud you swear you see birds scattering off their branches. “What bitches!”

She growls and flops down, sitting on a fallen tree trunk. You can see a glimmer of hurt and confusion in her eyes.

“It’s getting dark. We have one of the tents , we should set up some kind of camp.” You say, dropping the tent bag on the floor.

“Whatever. I’m not helping though.” She huffs. You don’t bother arguing, you can tell she’s hurt and you don’t want to make things worse.

You unzip the tent bag and start pulling out poles. There are no instructions and all of the poles look identical. You start arranging them in a way that sort of resembles a tent, you bend the long metal pole and try to force it into a fabric sleeve of the tent material, you think it’s secure and let go but it pings back up with such a force that the whole structure jumps. You leap back, the metal projectile misses your face by millimetres.

Regina’s watching you with an amused expression. It makes you blush. At least she’s in a better mood.

After about an hour of wrestling with tent fabric and poles, you’ve made a structure. You’re not sure if you can call it a tent, or if it’ll stay up but it provides some cover.

As night draws close it gets significantly colder so you collect some wood and dry grass for a small fire. Luckily you always carry your lighter so it was simple enough to start. Both you and Regina sit opposite sides of the fire, on the floor, the smoke isn’t as thick as the silence between you.

You dig around in your bag, hoping that maybe you packed some supplies from the bag the teachers gave you. The others must have most of the food and cooking equipment.

You did pack one thing

Marshmallows.

You hold the bag up to Regina who giggles and finds two thin sticks for you to roast them on over the fire. Neither of you speak still as you hold the stick, turning it every now and then.

You remember one other thing you packed secretly in your bag, you rifle through again and pull out a small hip flask of vodka and take a swig. With no mixer, the liquid burns all the way down to your stomach, you offer it to Regina who grimaces but takes the flask.

You sit for a while, toasting Marshmallows and passing the hip flask back and forth before one of you is buzzed enough to speak.

“You and Shane make a good couple.” You’re not sure why you even say it, you don’t think that at all. Regina seems tense around him and you’re pretty sure he’s only after one thing.

“I know.” She responds flatly. It’s unconvincing.

You swallow another dreadful mouthful of vodka. It feels like willingly swallowing paint thinner.

“Why did you screw over Janis?”

Her brows furrow, she reaches for the flask and takes a drink. That was definitely the wrong thing to say but the vodka makes words tumble out before your brain has a chance to screen them.

“I don’t know.” She shrugs. “I guess you think I’m a bad person.” She doesn’t meet your gaze and her tone sounds defeated and a little ashamed.

“ I don’t.” You say quickly. “You must have had a reason.”

“Yeah… I did.” She sighs.

You decide not to push it any further.

“Are you looking forward to camp being over?” You decide to try and divert the conversation.

“Not really, there’s not as much pressure here to perform. I don’t like being a bitch you know, it’s just school, it’s survival of the fittest.” She starts “Out here I feel free. I actually miss middle school, I wish I never went to that party, or kissed Janis. I’m sick of everyone thinking I’m fake, nobody treats me like an actual person.”

She looks up at the night sky, a small tear running down her cheek, catching the moonlight which makes it look like a diamond.

“Being with you has felt free.”

Your heart skips a beat. You’re not sure if it’s the alcohol but you get the courage to go and sit next to her. You gently put your arm around her shoulders and she relaxes into you.

You fit together like a puzzle.

You look up and scan the stars with your eyes and find what you’re looking for. You point up to 3 stars in a row.

“There’s Orion’s Belt. Those 3 stars are several times bigger than the sun, and they burn tens of thousands of times brighter.”

Her gaze falls to where you’re pointing.

“It kind of reminds me of you, Karen and Gretchen.” Regina laughs at this. “You shine brighter than anyone else at the school. I know what you mean about just trying to survive, just try not to burn so bright you burn out. You’re perfect enough as you are.”

She sighs, her hand is on your lap now and you struggle to concentrate on the stars.

“And that one sort of looks like a lion” You point up again, Orion’s Belt is the only one you recognise. Luckily this makes her giggle more.

She lifts her head at the same time you turn. She’s so close you can see the stars reflecting in her eyes. In this moment you realise you have two options.

A look of hesitation crosses her face and she starts to pull away.

You make a sudden, probably stupid decision.

As soon as your lips meet you see stars explode behind your eyelids. Her lips are just as soft as you imagined, it takes a second before she’s kissing you back. Her hands reach up and tangle in your hair. It’s gentle and rough all at the same

You pull away. “ I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t-“

She cuts you off with another quick, soft kiss.

“I’m tired, I’m going to sleep.” She says, standing and walking over to the tent which is shockingly still standing.

You’re left, sitting on the ground next to the now dwindling fire, kept warm by the redness in your cheeks. You pull out a cigarette and light it on the smouldering fire.

The star lion in the sky beams down at you.

#wlw #mean girls 2024 #regina george #regina george fanfic #regina george x reader #regina george x you #mean girls #mean girls fanfic #renee rapp #cabin fever

382 notes · View notes

floralpascal · 1 year

Text

Lines Crossed

Summary: Ghost realizes that he needs you more than he thought and makes a risky trip to your room while trying not to get caught.

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x f!reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 2.4k

Rating: Explicit (18+ only, mdni!)

Warnings: kissing, unprotected p-in-v sex (you know the drill, wrap it y'all), secret relationship, Ghost realizing that he's absolutely whipped

A/N: The idea of Ghost being whipped just took over my mind and this is what came out. This was so much fun to write that I'm thinking about making this a mini series looking at various points in their relationship

Illicit Indulgences Series Masterlist

There were lines Ghost didn’t cross.

He didn’t get involved. He didn’t let himself care. And he sure as hell didn’t let himself need someone.

For you, though, he seemed to be willing to cross every single line imaginable whether he liked it or not. He had gotten involved, telling himself then that it was just a one-time thing. He would get his fill of you for a night and he would be done, finally able to get you off of his mind. But that hadn’t been how it had gone down. Having you once only let the hold you had on him dig in deeper, settling in his bones until he found himself in your bed again. And again.

With each secret night spent in your room or his, a shitty hotel or a secluded backroom, whatever this was with you pulled him deeper into the unknown. His thoughts drifted to you even when you weren’t in the room. He found himself being more protective of you in the field. He began to check in on you enough that Soap had finally said, “Styx will be fine, Ghost. She’s a big girl, she can take care of herself.” Soon, he had to finally admit that he had crossed the second line. He cared.

The third line…

Ghost groaned in frustration, running a hand down his face. Staring into the darkness of his room for hours with sleep evading his grasp, he was starting to grow both restless and frustrated. Having trained himself to fall asleep under any conditions in order to scrape together any amount of sleep he could while in the field, his newfound difficulties falling asleep were an unwelcome surprise. It had plagued him for the last month, making him markedly more irritable - enough to draw the entire team’s attention. He had blown off Price when he had carefully broached the subject, asserting that there was nothing wrong at all. Lie.

It was your bloody fault. It was your face that kept him up at night in one way or another. It was the way you looked when your head was tipped back, your mouth open in a silent scream as he fucked you. It was the way you looked out in the field, your strong shoulders square and hard eyes trained forward as you held your gun and swept a building. It was your pained grimace as Ghost tried to stop the bleeding from the bullet you had taken to the stomach a year ago.

His head filled with a mix of scenes of bliss and scenes of horror, both of which you were the star of. Either way, it kept his brain whirring enough to ward away sleep. His mind was a whirlwind, fast and screaming and disorienting with the thought of you.

You were barely fifty meters away from him right now, your own room merely on the other side of the corridor. He couldn’t believe he was imagining walking down to your room now, in the middle of the night with everyone else in their own rooms right down the hall. It was dumb and reckless and-

And the thought alone made him feel better.

The thought of your skin on his, your hands buried in his hair, and your mouth on his was like a forbidden salve to his irritation. Having you under him, so vibrant and alive, chased away all the scenes of you in danger that his mind seemed to love to conjure up these days.

Irrational thoughts plagued him now, too. What if something was wrong with you? What if you were hurt? Forget the fact that they were on a secure base or that he had seen you only hours earlier, it didn’t matter to Ghost’s brain in the dark like this. Though he logically knew that his thoughts were irrational figments of his overactive mind, his body didn’t seem to be getting the memo.

It was like he wasn’t convinced you were safe until he saw you himself. Until he felt the plush of your skin under his fingers.

“Bloody fuckin’ hell,” he grumbled, practically dumbfounded by his own decision, as he forcefully flung the covers from his body. He grabbed the balaclava from his nightstand, slipping the soft cloth over his face before throwing a random shirt over his bare torso.

The corridor was empty at this time of night, but Ghost stayed vigilant anyways. He crept toward your door, eyes on the other gray doors that housed the rest of the 141. He had never been this bold, this reckless, as to try to slip into your room when everyone was asleep in their own rooms right beside yours, usually limiting your nights together to when the other guys went out to a pub or split up to go on leave. If anyone caught him - your superior - slipping into your room in the middle of the night, there would surely be hell to pay. Yet, he couldn’t stop.

With one last look at the empty, monochrome hallway, he found the handle to your door and slipped soundlessly into your room.

Despite the fact that he had been quiet, you seemed to sense the intrusion. Your eyes snapping open, you pushed your top half up from the pillow, your body tense like you were ready for a fight. You leaned forward and flicked on the bedside lamp.

Your eyes landed on Ghost and he watched as you relaxed again, your sleep-heavy eyes softening as they held his gaze.

“Ghost…” you whispered, clearly as astounded by his presence in your room as he was.

Everything in him screamed that this was a bad idea. That he should go back to his room before he made any more bad decisions. But then you smiled at him, easy and warm and inviting. No bad decision could look like that.

“You okay?” You asked, voice light and laced with sleep. It was concern, though, that sat behind your words. Concern for him, genuine and raw.

Ghost felt something in him crack at that question. Something he knew he wouldn’t come back from.

With two quick strides across your room, he crossed that third line.

In the pale yellow light of the lamp, he pulled the balaclava from his head, letting the cloth fall to the floor. He was already climbing above you in the bed as your eyes snapped wide and you scanned his face for the first time, taking in his features above you. Him. You finally saw him.

Ghost’s breathing picked up as you lifted a hand to his cheek and ran a thumb over his cheek. He had wondered what you would look like if you ever saw him without the mask. Somehow, he had never never expected that you would look at him so tenderly. It seemed wrong that anyone could look at someone as cold and hardened as Ghost like this. But, fuck, it was doing things to him.

When he couldn’t hold himself back anymore, he slammed his lips into yours. You returned the kiss with a fire that made everything worth it. The blood. The explosions. The secrecy. The sleepless nights.

“Am now,” he mumbled against your lips. He couldn’t say anything else, he could only let the fire he had for you take over and burn everything left in him.

You melted into his affections, immediately grabbing onto his shoulders as he stripped your mouth bare. The little sounds you made spurred him on, making him feel better than he had the entire night. Forget sleep, he could live solely fueled by this.

Then, your hands slid up into his hair, tugging at the mask-flattened strands. A groan fell from Ghost’s lips as he started to fumble for the hem of your shirt, needing you freed from it immediately. He needed to feel you against him, as close as you possibly could be. Needed you wrapped around him in every possible way.

Need. Need. Need. It was a terrifying, unstoppable feeling.

As you both discarded your clothes, your hands desperately searching for skin, Ghost couldn’t help but think of how apt your nickname was. Styx. A mythological river, threatening to pull him under, the waters that he was drowning in also making him damn near invulnerable to all else in the world, save for his one spot of vulnerability. You.

The Styx was believed to be at the edge of the earth and the underworld, you had told him once. Being with you felt kind of like that, he supposed. Like he was at the edge of reality and the mythological. Something he never thought he would have compared to the reality of you underneath him.

Your lips wiped the fucked up worries from his mind, your hands grounding him in the raging current.

You let out a moan as Ghost slipped two fingers into you, trying to get you ready for him as quickly as possible tonight. He clamped a large hand over your mouth as he started to pump his fingers in and out.

“Keep quiet, love,” he purred into your ear, knowing exactly what his low, gravelly voice did to you. Your fingers came to clamp down on his shoulder in your desperation. “We don’t want any interruptions.”

You nodded, your eyes locking with his for a moment before they fluttered closed. He watched you like this, lost in bliss, and tried to commit the image to memory. He would store it away for another cold, lonely night when he couldn’t be here with you, when sleep evaded him.

He so desperately wanted to hear you - to hear the way he could make you scream out his name - but he knew it wasn’t possible right now. Your muffled groans and the way you tipped your head back as he curled his fingers into you would have to suffice.

“So wet for me, love,” he whispered into your ear as he increased his pace, feeling how close you were to the edge as your velvety walls fluttered around him. “Were you thinking about me?”

You jerked your head in a nod, his hand stifling another choked moan from your lips. The sincerity in your movement sent his ego soaring in a way he had never experienced before. Fucking hell, he had never experienced anything like this before. You had a frightening power over him, a grip on his very being that was so deep he didn’t think he could detach it and still survive.

It was terrifying and thrilling and oh-so wonderful.

You shattered under his touch, your pussy clenching around his fingers as you rode out the waves of pleasure he was bringing you. Your hand grasped at his forearm, searching for anything that could steady you.

When you came down and released him from your grip, your eyes fluttered back open. Through your haze, your eyes found his, a want deeper than just lust pouring from your expression. He couldn’t take it anymore. He fucking needed you.

Ghost tore his hand away from your mouth before he crashed his lips to yours again, all heat and fervor. You met him halfway, pushing up to run a hand through his hair. You had done this before in the dark, but it felt even more intense now that you knew what it looked like. What he looked like. You weren’t kissing a faceless man, you were kissing him.

“Simon…” you whined against his lips. “Please.”

Years ago, when you had first met, he wouldn’t have believed that he would ever hear you like this. Usually when you talked, your voice was strong. Unwavering. Fit for a battlefield. To hear you beg for him like this, your words strained, broken, and laced with desire, was something reverent.

He buried his cock in you in one smooth stroke, his lips still on yours. It was still a stretch to fit him, but it was always a stretch. From the very beginning his pace was brutal, his hips slamming into yours over and over. He grabbed your hips hard enough to bruise so he could hold you in place while he hit the spot deep inside you that always had you breaking for him. He knew he had found it when your legs boxed his hips in and your hips jerked up to meet his thrusts. Your heels rested on his ass, pulling him impossibly deeper into you.

You were squeezing him so tight as he pounded into your sweet cunt that for the first time all night, his head was clear. All that existed was you and the growing heat in his stomach.

Ghost dropped his head down to your neck, his teeth nipping at the soft, delicate flesh at the base of it as one of his hands released its hold on your hip to find your clit. He knew exactly what to do to send you over the edge again, exactly how hard to press, how tight of circles to draw.

“F-fuck, Simon, I’m g-gonna-” you stuttered out, unable to finish your own sentence. But he knew. He could feel how close you were, the tension drawn tight that was about to snap.

His own rhythm was growing sloppy, the pleasure about to take him under. With a few more calculated thrusts, you came once again, your whole body spasming around him. Your hands clawed at his back as your pussy squeezed him so hard it took him with you. A zap of electricity raced down his spine as he released into you, hot and thick. He fucked it into you, so deep he was sure you would still feel him at breakfast tomorrow morning.

He was so fucked. He had crossed every line and now there was no turning back. There was no stopping this anymore. He needed you. Maybe it was wrong to hope that you needed him just as much, but he did.

Ghost panted against your collar, letting the soft, methodical way you drew circles on his scalp pull him back to reality. Back to you.

He pulled out and rolled over onto the bed, pulling you with him. After taking a few minutes to clean you up, he pulled you to lay on top of him. With his arms around you and the feel of your steady breathing against his chest, sleep finally found him and pulled him under.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #cod mw2 #call of duty modern warfare 2 #cod mw2 x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x you #ghost x you #simon riley fanfic #my writing

6K notes · View notes

koishiro · 6 months

Text

# - 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐁𝐈𝐃𝐃𝐄𝐍 📍

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ — 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 : originally planning to sit through hours of pain by the hands of a blond tattoo artist - who you know is very well off limits - bakugo finds a way to calm your nerves

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ — 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄 : smut

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ — 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒 : aged up!characters, oral (f!receiving), doggy style + missionary, SLIGHT nipple play

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ — 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 : tattoo artist!bakugo x f!reader

masterlist | bnha masterlist

“Fucking - shit!”

You'd started just after a late lunch, and the day was drawing to a close. This was your second sitting too; there was a lot of detail in this one and you'd probably be back anyway. A couple of hours was all you could handle, realistically – otherwise you'd stand up from the couch and fall straight back down again.

The first time you tentatively opened the door, you were pretty nervous. Everyone had been raving about the place, and it felt intimidating – not in a grimy way, but more like out-of-your-depth. It was so clean – spotless even – professional and artistic. There were some incredible pieces of art on the walls and retro tattoos everywhere. The other artists were hipster types with beards, rimless glasses and flesh tunnels in their ears.

This time you weren't quite so unnerved. It was busier when you returned for the second appointment, but livelier too – three or four artists working on clients, everyone talking, the artists laughing and their subjects trying not to for fear of moving.

You stood on a chair as he applied the stencil to your lower leg. You watched from high up as the blond carefully positioned it just-so, his head bowed over his work, his own tattoos peeking out from the collar of his shirt, creeping up his neck. He blew a lock of blond hair away from his face as he straightened, telling you to lie face down on the padded massage couch.

It hurt like hell on the back of your calf. More than the first time, when he'd worked around the side and over your shinbone. You distracted yourself with your phone, checking your Instagram account, emails- anything really. You noticed last time that he hadn't been much of a talker. You tried to engage in conversation, curious about the man who was leaving permanent marks on you and while he was perfectly polite, it seemed like he didn't want to chat.

"Smacks on that bit, huh," he'd said, as you took a break for a moment to adjust your position. You had done your best to stay still, but joked as you started that you'd have to make a real effort not to kick him in the face. After a while you had to fidget, because you had held yourself up on your elbows and were starting to tire.

"Too right," you sigh. "Ah well, it'll be worth it in the end”

He'd laughed with his colleagues but didn't seem to want to make small talk with you. As you lay back down, you glanced backward, appreciating how he looked as he concentrated on changing the needle in the tattoo gun. You went back to your phone, quickly squashing your thoughts. His girlfriend had been there, spending the last of her lunchbreak with him. And you had your own man at home. You were quite happy. Nothing wrong with appreciation though, you thought. No-

The sting on your leg made it hard to think anyway, so you looked around the room. One of the tattoo designs on the wall depicted a buxom young woman bent over a sailor's knee, taking a spanking, her heels flailing in the air. You wondered who'd drawn that one, and entertained the faint hope that it was one of yours. That you liked the idea.

The afternoon was drawing in and you'd almost finished. The other artists had completed working on their clients and all but one had disappeared for the afternoon. The read-head dude in the drainpipe jeans.

"Oi Bakugo, you almost done there?" Red-headed guy called over.

"Yeah, just some highlights and a bit of shading to go. You head off. I'll lock up”

"You sure? Thanks man. She doesn't look like the mugging-for-the-takings type," Red-head-dude grinned at you. "In fact she's been as quiet as a mouse”

"I didn't shut up first time round," you smiled back. "Nerves I guess”

"Ah, you got no reason to be nervous now though," smiled your artist. "Pro now, aren't ya? See you in the morning, dude," the man you now know as Bakugo, raised a hand in farewell to his colleague, and the bell on the door rattled as he closed it.

You laughed quietly.

"What?"

"You, taking the piss out of me. Just because it's only my second tattoo, and you're covered…”

"I wasn't!" he protested in mock horror. "Besides, these have been collected over years”

It was odd, you noticed, but as the needle burned on your skin, you felt Bakugo’s gloved fingers as he pulled the skin taut. He was gentle, but where his fingers made contact, you could feel the same burning sensation as where the needle buzzed. Like it was transferring pain. How strange that it should feel that way.

"Where'd it hurt most on you, then?" You asked, feeling a need to fill the silence of the shop.

"Hmm..." he tried to recall. "Probably the same place – or ribs, I think. That's always sore”

"It's transient though isn't it," you mused. "I'd still rather do this than be pierced. This hurts less”

Bakugo laughed. "I guess that depends on where you're pierced though. And piercing's quicker. Come on then, own up... Where?"

He was more talkative when there was no-one else around. You chuckled and dropped your head between your arms, onto the couch.

"Oh, now you're asking!"

"Ohhh... One of those, was it?"

"Yup. It's weird, sitting there fully clothed from the waist up, while someone's bending over your nether regions with a fucking great needle”

"Oh… Oh! Shit! I thought you were gonna say nipple!"

"Erm, no. I'm told that's bloody agony, although I do kinda fancy it. No, this was… well… they call it a VCH" you were pretty sure he'd know exactly where that went.

"Takes all sorts, I suppose. You don't look the type," he said.

"Is there a type..? I didn't keep it anyway. It was really annoying. What about you?"

"Oh.. um.. no. I stick to ink"

You could see that. Bakugo wore long army type pants but you could already guess that his lower legs were covered, as were his arms, and you noted that there must have been something across his shoulders at least. Still, that seemed to be par for the course – you never met a tattooist that didn't have shitloads of the damn things themselves.

"Okay.. just about done here. You did well – no wriggling. Wanna look?"

You sat up slowly. you go and look in the mirror, and decided to get moving. you dropped your feet to the floor and stood up, but it must have been too fast. Your head spun.

"Woah, easy there!" He grabbed your shoulders before you’d fallen, and you found yourself blinking up at his concerned face. You were too wobbly to trust yourself and just stayed there for a moment, half on the bench, half standing, with Bakugo supporting you. You felt like an utter twit. And you felt acutely aware of his proximity.

"Smooth huh?" You giggled weakly.

"It's okay, don't worry. It happens a lot. Even people who have had loads of tats still get cocky and overdo it”

He had strong hands. Big, and warm on your shoulders. You shook your head to clear it.

"You okay yet?" He still looked concerned. Fucking hell, you wished he wasn't touching you right now. Sure, he'd spent the last couple of hours touching you, but that was different. You were weirdly giddy. Like being slightly drunk, you thought. Your mouth ran away with you and you nodded toward the spanked girl on the wall, blurting out:

"One of yours?"

He withdrew, and looked sheepish. You eased yourself off the bench, standing on you’re own. Shaky, but standing.

"Ah. Ha.. Yeah. Yeah, that's mine”

He was rummaging in a cupboard behind the counter. You could see just a mop of spiky blonde hair, and then his eyes, as he rootled around.

"Don't normally do this but I reckon you could use it..."

He had found a small bottle of Jack and poured a slug into a disposable cup, passing it to you. With a shrug, he poured one for himself. You weren’t sure why – it wasn't like he'd got the shakes, was it? No, definitely not – his hands were as deft as ever as he covered the new tattoo, gently wiping away excess ink and blood, carefully wrapping your leg with clingfilm. You wished you were as steady.

You narrowed your eyes at Bakugo over the rim of the cup as you sipped gingerly.

"Don't give much away, do you?"

"Huh?" he was baffled.

"The… You know, the girl. So you distract me with hard liquor rather than risk me asking about her,"

Fucking hell, that'd be bravado from the whiskey, plus the close call from nearly hitting the floor. In a detached sort of way, you could imagine your sensible side looking down at your recklessness and sighing.

Bakugo bit his lip, which made something low down in your stomach twist, so you downed the rest of the booze because it seemed like a better alternative than staring at him. You’d almost forgotten the sting in your leg in favour of an ache - Yep, you thought, that kind of ache – in your nipples, and between your legs. So bloody typical, really... here you were, no makeup, ratty old jeans with one leg rolled up, socks with holes in, in front of an inexplicably attractive man who'd just spent a good couple of hours making you suffer.

You almost spat it straight back out again when you heard him say quietly "Yep... Gotta love giving a good spanking. Don't get the chance much these days, the girlfriend doesn't go in for it, but…”

Jesus, jesus, jesus. You didn't want to think about that. Didn't want to imagine being bent over his knee. Didn't want to imagine how the texture of his clothes would feel against your bare skin. Or what his hands would feel like. Oh fuck, big hands. Big, clever, rough hands. Bakugo must have seen how your skin flushed, how you licked your lips, because he stepped closer to you again. He took the plastic cup from you. You backed up, the small of your back bumping into the couch.

He followed. He was just an inch or two from you and you were sure he could see how your breathing had changed. You looked up at him.

"Shame," you murmured.

And Bakugo moved like lightning, his mouth crushing yours, one hand flying to the back of your head. You opened your mouth for him, and his tongue pushed, hard and insistent. You whimpered at the sensation of being so wanted, and he kissed you even harder than you thought possible, growling as he pushed one warm hand under your shirt, tugging roughly at the cup of your bra. He tasted of whiskey, with the slightest hint of cinnamon. His tongue was so hot it almost burned.

The couch banged up against the counter as he pushed you against it. His fingers found your nipple and twisted, hard. You squealed into his mouth and he laughed, pulling away just enough to catch a breath.

"Like that, is it? Thought so..."

You just looked at him, your swollen lips parted, breathing hard and fast. He held your gaze, his clear vermillion eyes unflinching. He was smiling, a small wry smile that spoke volumes. He knew what was happening just as well as you did.

You moved your own hands up, slowly, not daring to race. Twisted your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck. Pulled him down again, and kissed him again. Slower, at first. This was the chance you’d given him – a moment to withdraw that he'd not taken. They both knew that they shouldn't have even been in the same room alone together, not really. But it was between the two of them, now. He hadn't run for the hills. Your blood sang with the thrill of realisation; he wanted you, right now. You moved your other hand up the side of his body, enjoying the warmth of him, but now you slipped it under the waist of his shirt, to feel his patterned skin. He groaned into your mouth and his tongue slipped deeper, taking over.

His hand fell to your jeans, pressing right there between your thighs, cupping you. The heel of Bakugo’s hand was hard against your clit through the thick denim and you were breathless. Jesus fucking christ on a bike... You dared to daydream, and here it was – a fantasy from your own faithless imagination. Your mind was spinning, so close to losing all reason and functioning on instinct alone. Fuck… The smell of him!

He tore at your t-shirt, dragging it over your head, and scrabbled at your bra. 99% of men you’d ever been with were useless with these things, you mused, and yet suddenly it was on the floor with your shirt. He unbuttoned your jeans and shoved them down, then caught himself mid-action, easing them over your sore leg gently. It put his head right next to your pussy, covered only by a pair of unsexily practical plain panties. He breathed in through his nose, his eyes closed... Then looked up at you with a downright mischievous look playing over his face.

"On the bench," he directed. You hopped up, your legs swinging like a small child. He'd found one of the low rolling stools, and sat down in front of you. He pushed your knees apart. A wet spot darkened your cotton panties, and you blushed despite herself. You weren't quite sure of his intentions until the blond brandished a pair of scissors at you – and you must have looked worried half to death, because he cocked one eyebrow: "Safe hands, come on..."

Before you knew it he'd snipped the underwear away. You were exposed completely.

He dipped his face towards your pussy and breathed you in again. You leaned back on the couch, supporting yourself up on one elbow, wanting to watch his face – but automatically closing your eyes in shocked bliss as that searing hot tongue licked you from bottom to top, spreading your lips apart, giving away just how wet you were.

"Fuck," you breathed. You were incoherent – now wasn't the time for intelligent conversation.

His thumbs held you, spread wide, and he lapped at your clit, drawing it into his mouth, nipping unbelievably gently with his teeth. You shuddered. You opened your eyes and saw him watching you, and he was smiling again. He dipped back down and this time his tongue pushed into you. Your back arched and you grabbed the back of his head, hissing at the extremity of the sensation.

You were disbelieving of it. You’d never known a man to do this... to eat pussy with such clear enjoyment. The sensation was amazing – the warmth of his breath, the smooth slickness of his tongue on your hot flesh, the scrape of his barely noticeable stubble on your thighs a harsh counterpoint.

You couldn't help but push yourself against his face, wanting more, murmuring words that didn't make any sense. You yelled out as he pushed a finger into you, teasing you, knowing exactly where to touch. He added another and you gasped. You could hear yourself! Christ, you were so soaking wet that as his hand moved, your cunt made obscene noises. Worse, you loved it. He lifted his face, still finger-fucking you with three fingers now, his thumb running over your clit.

"I think you needed this, didn't ya?"

You could only groan in agreement. Oh, you definitely did, but you sure as hell hadn't expected it. Bakugo laughed that quiet, knowing little laugh again and pinched your clit with one hand, while fingering you faster with the other. You squealed and your hips lifted, wriggling as you felt an orgasm building. You were amazed – it wasn't normally so easy to make you come – and you managed to gasp out a warning just before your whole body stiffened and shook.

He dragged his fingers from your pulsing cunt and strummed your clit hard, making you wail aloud as your pussy squirted hot liquid over the bench. He exclaimed, a mixture of surprise and delight, and pushed his fingers back into you more slowly now, dragging them over the swollen lips of your pussy, spreading your juice over his hand. Your head dropped back to the bench, your chest heaving. You were spaced out and stunned – you didn't think you’d ever cum that violently before.

"Holy fuck," you murmured, more to yourself than anything. Then you realised what a mess you’d made. "Sorry! Ah shit.. Dammit..." you sat up, about to scout around for paper to clean up. He laughed at you and grabbed your arm.

"No chance, babe," he smiled wickedly. "Get over here. Right now"

Bakugo helped you stand, shakily, and led you towards the chestnut-brown buttoned chesterfield sofa that waiting clients would normally loll on. You half tumbled onto the cushions and landed, naked, staring up at him. He flung his own shirt into a corner and tugged his jeans over his hips. You stared dumbly, drinking in the sight of his lean, inked torso. The patterns, words, pictures, life stories you supposed... they carried on downwards, over his hipbones, to meet the tattoos that ran up his legs.

His cock was rock-hard and he stroked it, not taking his eyes off you.

"Get on all fours," he said. You complied, your forearms resting on the arm of the sofa. He sat slowly behind you, running his hands over your ass, grabbing it and spreading you wide. He abruptly buried his face in your pussy, tongue diving inside. He came up for air and gasped, "Fucking hell, you taste so good..."

You felt him manouvre behind you, his hands still on your ass, his thumb occasionally drifting over the pucker of your hole, and then suddenly he was inside you. His cock slid into you smoothly, opening you up, stretching your cunt, and he kept on going until you were utterly full of dick. You squealed as his cockhead nudged your sensitive cervix. He withdrew achingly slowly, letting you get used to the sensation, and then rammed himself home hard and fast.

You felt his hand twist into your hair, tugging your head upwards, and arched your back. The pain of the pull on your scalp was exquisite, ebbing and flowing as he pounded you from behind.

"That's it, babe," he murmured. You could hear the smile in his voice. "Come on, lemme hear you”

You couldn't help yourself – you were squeaking in pain each time his dick slammed into you, but you adored it. You heard the smack of skin on skin as his hips met yours, and your cunt was making deliciously obscene wet sounds.

"Please," you gasped out. "Please, please, please..."

Bakugo didn't cease his movement, groaning in pleasure. "Ah... Please what? Do you want more? Fuck, your pussy's so damn tight round my cock... Don't ask me to stop now”

"No, not stop,". you could hardly get your words straight. "I want to see..."

"Oh!" He understood you breathless gabble, and pulled himself free of your tight hole. The air felt cool on your lips and you savoured it briefly, before he pulled your hips back and helped you lie back on the couch. You looked up, wanting to watch his expression as he pushed himself back inside you.

He did so slowly, his eyes closed, long lashes brushing his cheeks, his bottom lip caught between his teeth. You squeezed his cock, once, as hard as you could, using your pussy muscles to show him just how hard you could work it. His eyes flew open and it was his turn to cry out.

"Fuck, babe... Do that again and I won't last five minutes”

You met his gaze, and held it as he began to move, more slowly now. He bent forwards and sucked one of your nipples into his mouth, grazing it with his teeth – then released it and moved his mouth to yours, kissing you, opening you up with his tongue as he opened your cunt with his cock. You dared to tangle a hand in his hair, now, and moaned your need into his mouth.

He sat back, and pushed his thumb between your lips, wetting it, then dragged it over your clit, watching your face for a reaction. You tensed and a red flush began to creep over your chest. A faint smile played over his face and he moved faster, fucking you a little harder, massaging his thumb in circles around your stiff clit, flicking it hard and feeling your body respond.

Your eyes had drifted closed as you enjoyed the sensations, but he wasn't having that.

"Look at me," he said softly. "I want to watch your face when you cum for me”

Christ. Just those words were enough, but he sped up, moving faster and harder. You hadn't been fucked like this for a long, long time – with a lot of guys it was all over in minutes, but he was too damn good for that. His thumb pushed your clit against your pelvic bone and you screamed. Your entire body was rigid as you came, your cunt muscles bearing down hard, trying to force his cock out of you. He pushed hard and deep into you though, prolonging your agony, and true to his word he was watching your face, only pulling his cock out right at the last second – and you wailed, loud and unbelieving, as your orgasm peaked, your cunt walls squeezing tight, and again – again! At some level you marvelled – a rush of hot fluid soaked your thighs as you squirted.

You sagged backwards, breathing fast, and put an embarrassed hand to your mouth.

Bakugo tugged it away, gently, smiling wryly.

"Oh no. Not gonna have you feeling all self-conscious about that. That was... amazing”

And he slid himself inside you again. He was close to coming, so close, you could see it in the lines of tension on his face. It was your turn to encourage him.

"Come on then," you murmured. You cupped your tits with you hands, tweaking your nipples hard, offering him a target – you expected him to unload all over your chest, but he growled, grabbed your hips, and surged forwards. You looked him in the eye and was met with a piercing, almost animal stare as he roared with the release. You felt the heat of his cum deep inside, as he punctuated his final few thrusts with words.

"Holy… fucking… hell," he uttered between clenched teeth. He sat up, and swiped at a sheen of sweat on his forehead. A worried look flashed across his face and your own smile vanished – oh, god, now he'd realised what he'd done, hadn't he?

He leaned down and checked the dressing on your leg. Then raised an eyebrow at you.

"Don't look so worried, it's fine," he grinned. He unfolded himself from the sofa and started to dress, throwing your clothes over for you to do the same. It was weird, you thought, that you could expose your most private places to someone, do the filthiest things, and then only afterwards did you feel awkward.

Bakugo passed you a glass of water, which you gulped greedily at, still slightly out of breath and still slightly disbelieving. "I've… well, I have to... Get home, you know..." you blathered.

"It's okay," he said quietly. "Really. I'm not saying anything" He kissed you, softly, slow and sweet.

"Message me though, when you want to book in again. That leg piece will need a couple more hours work”

—

— 𝘒𝘰𝘪 𝘹𝘰

541 notes · View notes

theemporium · 10 months

Note

hihi! I LOVE ur writing! if it’s no trouble do you think you could do sub!james x reader where he’s getting overstimulated by reader! thank u sm xx

thank you, darling! and thank you for requesting!🖤

“You gotta keep quiet or they’re gonna hear you.”

He knew that. Merlin, he was so painfully aware of that simple fact and yet, lust seemed to cloud over any logical thought that James had. He didn’t care about his friends right now, and he sure as hell didn’t care that if he wasn’t careful, they could hear every single thing that was going on right now.

It wasn’t unusual for you to spend the night in the boys’ dorm, cuddled up next to your boyfriend whilst his friends teased and chirped at him. And it also wasn’t unusual for you to draw the curtains around the bed in hopes of having some privacy in the shared dorm. However, you had always refrained from doing anything whilst either boy was in the room in fear of getting caught or heard.

But James didn’t care.

He had been needy all day and you had known as much. But between classes and quidditch practices and everything else, you two had barely got a moment to breathe, let alone a moment alone.

And now you were in bed together, and you were dressed in just one of his jersey with nothing else and James was just a simple man with simple desires. A simple man with simple desires that included fucking his girlfriend after having her ass pressed against his cock, grinding back on him for the last fifteen minutes when they were supposed to be falling asleep.

“Fuck!” James hissed, his chest heaving and his fists clenching the sheets beneath him as you worked your hand up and down his cock, stroking him and squeezing him.

“Shhh,” you murmured, your head tucked into the crook of his neck as you kissed and licked his skin until he was shivering beneath you. “I’m giving you what you want, baby, do you want me to stop?”

James quickly shook his head.

“Then be quiet,” you ordered before you leaned down to kiss his lips, muffling the sound of his whiny moans as you did so.

His whole body felt like he was on fire and his muscles were tense and your thumb was circling the tip of his cock just right and James couldn’t help himself as he muttered a half-hearted warming against your lips before he came, spurting and squirting all over his toned stomach.

“You made such a mess, baby boy,” you teased softly, your lips right by his ear and it made him shiver.

“I know, I’m sorry,” he panted, his eyes fluttering open only to quickly clench shut again. “I just—oh fuck!”

His hips bucked up into your hand, a pained whimper leaving his lips as you continued to stroke his cock, teasing the red, swollen head with the pad of your thumb. He reached down to grip your wrist but you batted his hands away.

“This is what you wanted, baby,” you whispered to him, watching the way his body squirmed on the bed.

“Too much,” he heaved, his cheeks flushed red and his glasses fogging up but he just looked fucking adorable, you couldn’t stop. “Please, it’s too much—”

“I thought you were my good boy, Jamie,” you whispered.

“I am,” he cried softly, his hips stuttering. “I am.”

You grinned down at him and his heart stuttered at the sight.

“Then be a good boy for me and take it.”

707 notes · View notes

natalievoncatte · 8 months

Text

“We don’t have a friendship, Supergirl.”

It took a moment for it to sink in. Lena stood before her, chin proud, staring her down with enough force to that Kara knew she wasn’t the most powerful woman in the world, no matter what they said. She wasn’t even the most powerful woman in this room.

Kara could push press an attack submarine. She could move between the ticks of a clock, perceive things so small and so fast they could barely be said to have happened at all. She’d bested foes that had humbled the Man of Steel. She’s outclassed even him.

Yet in this moment, she was all but powerless. There was nothing she could do with all her strength. All of this had been about weapons. Kryptonite. Lena needed neither to destroy Kara. She needed only cutting words.

“U-understood,” Kara mumbled.

She felt her shoulders draw in and sag, felt herself shrinking back into her own skin. Supergirl was banished instantly, and suddenly a defeated, frail Kara Danvers stood in her place, feeling silly in her cape and skirt. Her boots pinched her feet and everything was too tight. She could barely breathe.

“Ishouldgo,” she gasped out, fleeing, running, getting the hell away from here. She took the fastest available route until she was airborne, slipping the burly bonds of Earth.

The rush of pressure and the concussive wave built up around her skin and cut loose, releasing a rolling boom over National City. By the time Kara slowed and came to a hover, she was over the Pacific Ocean, calm blue seas stretching out in an endless expanse.

She relaxed, hanging impossibly above the clouds, absorbing pure sunlight.

Bitterly, she remembered when she’d tried to abandon Kara Danvers, not long ago. It had seemed that a life outside of Supergirl, outside of endless battles and self-sacrificing service, was pointless, and hurtful. Fitting in brought pain, forced her into a world that was all angles and wrong turns, lying to everyone around her and forbidden the simple concepts they all had. She was a stranger in a strange land, always seeking acceptance and understanding of peculiar customs, dogged by an incessant need.

It was one she barely admitted, but it was there, always there, just over her shoulder and ready to lead the assault when the walks came closing in.

Why her?

Out of all her people, her entire race, why was she the lone survivor? And she was, because while Kal was Kryptonian by birth, he had escaped Krypton. Kara had survived it.

Survival offered no escape.

For him, his birthright was a joy. Incredible powers, a sacred calling, a love of adventure and excitement. Kara could only imagine how wonderful it must have been for him when he discovered it all.

Oh, he mourned, or tried to. Kara bitterly indulged his laments for his lost world; a world he’d never walked, customs he’d never shared. His parents were a blessing to him, but to her they were her aunt an uncle, real people that Kara had lost.

Being Kara Danvers was difficult and painful. Being Supergirl was difficult and painful- now with the world killers, it seemed to Kara that Earth might have been better off had Krypton never noticed this yellow star or the beautiful blue world that orbited it.

Maybe Krypton was meant to end, and maybe Kara…

Maybe Kara…

Tears stung her eyes and she blinked them away. She’d ruined everything. Lena Luthor was kind, and good, and had spent weeks risking her life trying to help a friend, and what had Kara done? Made it about her. She’d wrapped everything around herself. She’s torn Lena’s relationship apart because she just could not believe that her best and most trusted friend wouldn’t hurt her.

It made sense when she was doing it. Was she not doomed? Had she not watched her world die? Kara had been a little girl one day and the next she was trapped in hell, her mother’s touch still felt on a tear-scored cheek.

Kara screamed. Red-sun fury exploded from her eyes, burning the sky itself. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fucking fair!

When the scream faded from her throat, leaving it ragged and dry, her eyes aching from the wild energy blast, she was still hanging in the air.

A terrible inevitability settled within her chest. She knew what she had to do, but she didn’t know if she had the strength. She could overcome any foe, break any barrier, reach any height. She was Supergirl. She could do anything.

“I have to take responsibility for what I’ve done,” Kara told the sky.

The sky didn’t answer her. She closes her eyes and absorbed Sol’s warmth. Sometimes, Kara really wished these stars were gods, that the golden light that gave her limitless power could give her answers, that Sol could be a nurturing mother, taking in a wanderer so far from Rao’s grace.

It wasn’t. It was a superheated ball of hydrogen undergoing nuclear fusion. There were no answers in the sky. There were none anywhere. She’s have to find them on her own.

Kara first went back to her apartment, resolving to do this right. She changed into one of her favorite outfits (Lena had once made a curious compliment about Kara’s biceps, the last time she’d worn it) and texted her best friend, asking to meet soon.

Lena, predictably, replied that she was busy.

Kara thought of Lena, not as Supergirl, but as herself. Lena toiling in that lab in desperation, not feeding herself

She was tempted to say that Supergirl told her about the lab and the situation and beg to be allowed to help, but there had to be a better way. An honest way.

I know you’re busy. I just want to make sure you get something to eat and you’re okay. Just a few minutes.

The reply came a moment later.

Oh, alright. You know I can’t say no to you.

Kara’s heart leapt and crumped at the same time. She let out a slow breath and decided to grab something on the way, something she could leave if Lena threw her out.

When she arrived, Lena had moved to her office. She was sitting behind her desk, and as much as she’d look remarkable out together earlier, she was showing her fatigue now. There were bags under her eyes and she’d changed into a loose sweatshirt, and Kara thought she might fall asleep on her desk.

When she looked at Kara, her face lit up with such admiration and affection that Kara’s heart could have burst in her chest. In the fading afternoon light, most like that of her lost star, Lena seemed impossibly beautiful and perfect, the sharp-tongued being of cold fury replaced by someone small and soft that Kara simply had to cup in her hands and protect and…

Oh.

Oh Rao.

FUCK.

Kara almost dropped the bag of donuts. She couldn’t do this. Not now. Not today. She couldn’t do this she couldn’t, she couldn’t lose… couldn’t lose…

Lena.

It was like seeing her for the first time. Kara sucked in a drawing breath and had to let it out very slowly, as a new and perilous understanding took root and changed everything.

“Do I look that bad?” Lena said, but there was no heat in it.

“You look beautiful,” Kara answered in a breathy voice, before she could stop herself.

Lena smirked. “You’re too nice. Are those donuts?”

Kara gently placed them on the desk, and she looked. Stared.

One of the gifts, and curses, of Kryptonian physiology was an eidetic memory. This moment would live in her mind and heart until the day she died, so she dragged it out for as long as she could, to keep it. To keep the sight of this woman who truly treasured Kara. Just Kara.

“Kara?” Lena said, confused and maybe a little scared.

“I have to tell you something,” said Kara.

“What is it?” said Lena, always so eager to help.

Kara’s hands balled into fists, arms trembling. The tears broke before she worked up the will to say it.

“Earlier today, you asked me why it’s so important to me that we be friends.”

Lena stared blankly for a too-short moment, and then her eyes went wide. She rocked back in her chair as if struck, then bolted out of it, rounding the desk. Kara stood still, unable to face her, and watched it all reflected in the desk.

“Look at me.”

Kara didn’t move.

“Look at me!”

Kara looked. With shaking hands, Lena grasped the frames of her glasses and pulled them free, setting them aside. Kara then flinched as Lena reached behind her, the gesture so much like an embrace, so curiously intimate that Kara’s own body betrayed her, her heart hammering in her chest.

Lena released Kara’s hair and it spilled in curls around her shoulders.

“Oh my God,” Lena whispered.

“I’m sorry,” Kara whimpered, the tears hot on her cheeks. “Lena, please, I’m sorry.”

“It was all a lie. You were lying to me the whole time.”

No, she wanted to scream, I never lied, I didn’t, you had no right to know, I was protecting you. A hundred futile excuses crashes through her mind and when they were gone only the truth remained.

“I was scared,” Kara choked out. “I was so scared and then I messed it up and I was even more scared and I just kept trying to fix it. I’m sorry.”

Lena was crying, too. The tears fell freely, though her expression remained still, calculating.

“I would do anything for you. I would die for you. I don’t know why I did what I did…”

“You pretended to be another fucking person and talked my boyfriend into spying on me while pretending to be my friend.”

“I wasn’t pretending,” Kara pleased. “I am your friend. You mean so much to me, more than I’ve ever told you and I was scared.”

“Of what?” said Lena. “That I’d make Kryptonite and kill you with it? Make weapons to kill you? I thought you really believed in me, Kara. I listened to your bullshit and I believed it and you were just fucking… you were… you bitch!”

Kara stood, transfixed, as Lena came apart in front of her.

“Why did you have to do this? Why did you have to tell me now? Why did you take my Kara away from me when I needed her most?”

Kara sucked in a shuddering breath and hugged herself.

“Because I deserve this. You deserve the truth and I deserve the consequences for what I’ve done. I did hurt you just like you said, and I thought I could just smooth it over and charm my way into fixing it, but I can’t. I’m a fuckup. I make things worse just by existing.”

Lena shuddered and formed her hands into fists. “Don’t you say that. Don’t you say that to me ever again.”

“This is my fault. I made this happen. I should have told you after you saved the world. The first time, with Medusa. If I trusted you, you could have come to me and we could have saved Sam together. You trusted me and I hurt you.”

“Are you going to ask for forgiveness? Is that where this is going?”

“No. I don’t deserve it.”

“Then what do you want?”

“Let me help you with Sam, and then I’ll leave you alone. I know I can’t come back from this. I can’t fix it. I don’t know what else to do.”

“Leave me alone?” Lena snapped, jabbing a finger into Kara’s chest. “What the fuck? You think you can just crash into my life like this and then just leave?”

“I… I…”

“How about this,” said Lena, stepping closer, her green eyes full of fury. “How about you ask me what I want instead of telling me?”

Kara swallowed.

“What do you want?”

Lena stepped back.

“I want to save my friend. I want Ruby to have her mom back. I want to fix the world. I need your help to do that, whether I want it or not.”

“And then?”

“And then…” said Lena. “Then I want to know why. I want to know why you did this to me and what the hell you really want, and then I’ll decide if there’s anything worth saving with you, or if I’m going to go back to Metropolis and rebuild my life.”

“That… that’s… I’ll help.”

“What do you want?”

Kara swallowed.

“I… I ummm…” Kara reached for glasses that were no longer there. “I want to try again. I want to be your friend again, as my whole self. There’s so much I could share with you.”

Lena swiped the tears away from her eyes, and stilled herself, regaining her control.

“I’ll be in the lab. I’ll call for you when I need you.”

Lena heard for the door, stopping at the threshold.

“Kara,” said Lena, without turning.

“Yeah?” Kara said, thickly.

“The night Edge was trying to set me up… the plane. Would you really have dropped the chemicals if I couldn’t make the jump?”

Kara took her glasses from the desks, turning them in her hands, and drew in a breath.

“Yes,” said Kara. “I’d have found a way to fix somehow, but if it was the only way, yes. I’d have let them fall, but I’d never let you fall. I said I’d always protect you, and that was the truth. I always will. No matter what.”

Lena hesitated at the door, then left without a word.

519 notes · View notes

aerynwrites · 7 months

Note

Thank you for writing these, they are fantastic! Could you do one where Tav is doubting her abilities and is overwhelmed with the responsibility of fighting the netherbrain? Halsin would be there to stand with her and remind her of her strength, bravery, and growth. And kiss her too, because of course.

Not Alone

Halsin x Reader

A/N: thank you for the request friend! I hope this is what you wanted - I had fun writing this Bc wouldn’t we ALL be overwhelmed with that??

Word count: 1k

Warnings: mentions of anxiety, feeling overwhelmed, emotional hurt comfort, kissing, fluff.

It seemed to come out of nowhere.

The desperate squeeze of your chest. The burning tears behind your eyes. Shaking hands, narrowed vision, the inability to breath or think straight.

The sadness and grief and anxiety and…fear.

It all comes crashing down one unsuspecting evening, as the moon hovers high in the sky, trying and failing to comfort you with her pale light as you rush from your tent.

Worry about waking your companions doesn’t even cross your mind as you stumble from camp and into the surrounding wilderness, tears blinding you.

Gods, it’s too much.

The tadpoles, your friends' personal quests, the absolute, the guardian in your dreams…they all haunt you. Drain you constantly through the day and even now - where sleep used to be a respite - even your dreams are no longer your own.

A stray rock catches the toe of your shoe and suddenly you're acutely aware of the world around you once more. The rushing of air past you as you crash to the ground and the pain in your knees as you land. The dirt and grass beneath your fingers as you dig desperately into the earth. The wetness on your cheeks, and finally the broken sob that bursts from your lips.

You want to scream, and you just about let it out when something falls against your shoulder. However, the only sound that comes out is a strangled gasp as you turn to find the intruder.

Halsin, your druid companion turned lover - crouches before you, concern drawing his brows together and thinning his lips.

“Are you alright?” He asks, voice gentle amidst the roaring turmoil of your mind. “I saw you rush from camp as I was returning and you seemed…troubled.”

Shaking your head you turn away from him, shame bubbling up in your chest. That forever cracking facade of a leader, pushing forward once more.

“I’m fine.”

You try to sound firm, but the words come out broken and choked around the lump lodged in your throat.

Halsin says nothing for a moment, instead moving to sit beside you in silence, staring out into the wilderness ahead.

You try to control your emotions, try to pull yourself together, but the tears just won’t. Stop.

“Even the strongest of leaders feel the weight of what they take on.” Halsin finally says. “No one can carry it alone forever.”

“I never asked to be a leader,” you respond, voice as empty as you feel.

More tears come forward ushering out all the thoughts you’ve been holding in your mind. The things you’ve been hiding, trying to keep everyone happy.

“I can’t keep doing this,” you whisper, finally looking over to the druid from where you sit on your knees. “I just wanted to find a cure for these things in our heads and every solution has been a dead end o-or an avenue to something worse!” The words spill from your lips in shaky breaths.

“And on top of all that I have to stand by and watch as my companions, my friends struggle too. Astarion and his past with Cazador, never feeling free - yearning for escape. Gale and Shadowheart trapped by a goddess. Karlach being told she is literally damned to hell. And then you -“ you gesture vaguely to the man next to you. “Bearing the weight of the shadow curse and Thaniels well being…”

Slowly, with each word it seems the tears start to stop. Or dry up. You’re not sure which. But as you continue to speak it’s as if a tiny miniscule weight is lifted. You finally turn to face Halsin, who just gazes at you patiently, concern evident in his eyes.

“I don’t say this to make it seem like I don’t want to bear these things. They are my friends and you-“ you reach out to take his hand in yours, appreciating the comforting squeeze he gives you. “I love you. I want to help you and everyone back at camp but it’s just-“

“Too much to bear alone.”

Halsin completes your thoughts exactly, and before you can speak he’s gathering you up in his arms. You melt into his embrace, surrounded by the warmth and safety you’ve come to crave from the man holding you.

“I don’t know how you did it for so long.” You admit, arms moving to wrap around him. “And for centuries no less. How did you bear it? The responsibility.”

Halsin holds you tighter. “Admittedly, at first I did not bear it well,” he tells you. “I felt much like you do now, overwhelmed by others burdens and the decisions that were mine to make everyday. Constantly worried if the path I was leading the grove down was the right one.”

Gently, Halsin separates from you, just enough that he can see your face.

“So…what did you do? How did you keep it all from tearing you apart?”

Halsin smiles then, a tiny pained thing - as if seeing you go through what he has, hurts him as well.

A calloused hand comes to cradle your cheek, thumb brushing away residual sticky tears.

“I learned to share my burdens with those around me. With my family, my friends. And they were happy to assist me, just as I know those surrounding you will lend you their aid as well.”

You open your mouth to speak but Halsin cuts you off with a quick press of his lips against yours, retreating to press another one to each cheek.

“These are not your burdens to hold alone, my love,” he assures you, eyes searching your own. “You are strong and brave, but let us help you. Lean on me as I have you.”

His words bring on a whole new wave of tears, but instead of sadness all you feel is overwhelming relief and comfort. Halsins arms tighten around you as you press into him, head resting against his chest.

“Thank you,” you whisper, not having the words to express your gratitude.

Pressing a kiss to the top of your head, Halsin rubs a soothing hand up your back.

“Anything for you, my heart.” Reaching up, he runs gentle fingers through your hair. “Would you like to return to camp?”

Taking a deep breath, you shake your head, relishing in the peace and quiet nature provides in this moment. The night is cool, and the gentle breeze rustles the grass and trees as the moon above gazes down on you both.

“I’d like to stay here for a little longer if that’s alright.”

“We can stay as long as you’d like,” he smiles.

And with that promise, you feel the last tendrils of dread slip from your mind.

You’re not alone. And that’s what matters most.

#halsin x reader #bg3 x reader #bg3 halsin #bg3 #Baldurs gate 3 #Baldurs gate #halsin #request #ask box

504 notes · View notes

domreader-headcannon-scenarios · 5 months

Note

Finally another talented writer in our growing fandom!!!

Plsplsplspls can I request leviathan with a reader who's not that much infatuated by him? Probably acting nonchalant even. I wonder how he'll react. Can sfw or nsfw! (⁠っ⁠˘̩⁠╭⁠╮⁠˘̩⁠)⁠っ

GHCHG It’s genuinely so sweet and cute how many people are excited about this with me and surprised me how many people like my writing!

Also THIS IS SUCH A AMAZING CONCEPT??? He’d be just so jealous and upset, he’s so confused, why aren’t you fawning over him? His ego is hurt realizing the only human in Hell, the ONLY person he wants to catch the attention off, isn’t interested in him.

Leviathan

Cw: unwanted advances, unhealthy relationships (attempted technically), pining, insecurities,

You knew you’d catch the attention of the kings after Satan, but you weren’t to interested in befriending them, you had 72 to go through before you could go home. So of course you want to be fast!

However, Leviathan didn’t allow you to slip by so easily, even dragging you to stay in Hades for a while, while Satan rested you were left with Leviathan. He eyed you constantly, keeping way to close to you in attempts to divert your attention to him, though he seemed to not even know what to do once he had your attention.

He was handsome, you did find him attractive, but you assumed he only wanted a fling, or someone he could dominate to boost his own ego, so once he started making advances, you didn’t outright say ‘no’ but avoided them.

When he reached to wrap an arm around you? You just so happened to walk to the side.

He tries to sneak a kiss? You notice a demon or object that has your attention and turn away from him.

Leviathan was beyond frustrated, and as fun as it was to leave him wallowing over a human avoiding his touch, he started hanging random devils for getting ‘too rowdy/handsy’ with you. He hung Barbatos for helping you up after you tripped!

You wanted to yell at him, but decided, it would feed into his attitude so you decided to upset him with someone he cant hurt. At least not as easily.

You had Satan come over to your ‘room’ (that Leviathan welcomed himself into.) and layed in bed next to you. You could feel Leviathan glaring you both down and as you chatted with Satan, at one point you two are shoved apart and Leviathan pushes himself between you. (Almost pushing Satan off the bed.)

“Watch it.” Satan growled, shoving Leviathan a bit. Leviathan growled back and you can see very quickly that Leviathan is ready to escalate things so you decide to step in.

You grab Leviathan by his horns and pull him back towards you, making him awkwardly flop on the bed. “Leviathan, don’t be a pain in the ass, would giving you be good if I give you…a half hour of undivided attention?”

His eyes lit up at that and you can see a grin spread across his face. “Oh? You’d like to be with me alone for that long? What do you have in mind?” You can see a light brush spread across his face.

You hear Satan laugh before he’s interrupting. “Leviathan you sound desperate!” Satan got up without you needing to tell him. “See you when you don’t have a needy demon wrapped around you.”

He waltzed away while you held Leviathan by the horn to prevent him from scrambling after Satan. “Don’t walk away!” Leviathan hissed out. “Let go, I’m going to kill him-“ You pinched his horn tip and he visibly jumped, whimpering at the overwhelming sensation.

Satan grinned but left, leaving the door unlocked likely in case you needed help. Or something. You watch Leviathan adjust beside you feeling his horns like you might have bent one.

You lift his chin to make him look at you. “You really want me, don’t you?” Leviathan locked eyes with you, scanning your face for sarcasm. He nodded. You palm him through his clothes, feeling his stiff member draw attention to itself by bobbing. “Is this for me?”

You mocked teasingly, only for a low moan to escape him. “…only if you can give me the best orgasm you’ve ever given.” He hissed out, rolling his hips. “You’ve been with all of my subordinates, my Fellow Kings…I envy to think how you made them feel. Make it up to me.”

You roughly yank his pants down along with his undergarments, exposing his dripping cock that you flick the base of. He bucks in response with his shaft shamelessly presenting itself for you.

You reach down and gently squeeze it, stroking it teasingly upon getting a positive reaction from. “Don’t you have an entire town of demons ready to die for you? Why do you need the approval of a human?”

He groans, avoiding your gaze and pretending he didn’t hear what you said. Though as soon as you slowed down he spoke up. “You…are very important to me. I…need you.” He grabbed you and forced your head down to give you a kiss, holding you there while he shoved his tongue in your mouth.

You respond by biting down. He doesn’t pull away instantly, instead testing how long till you used a worrisome amount of pressure. You bit hard enough to draw a small amount of blood. He quickly release you and recoils. “N-no one has done that before…” He seemed awestruck.

#what in hell is bad #whb #sub whb #sub what in hell is bad #leviathan x reader #leviathan #whb leviathan #nsft #sub leviathan #sub whb leviathan

362 notes · View notes

sprout-fics · 8 months

Note

Humbly requesting the stay the night prompt of “wait…you’ve been here all night?” Pairing whatever. Just wanting to see this written out 💜

When you wake, the world feels like it’s trying to hammer you back unconscious.

“Shit…” You say immediately following your groan, pressing the heel of your palm to your eyes to quell the horrible pulsing pain there. The headache feels like it’s trying to carve inside your skull, and you can taste bile still on your lips, tacky in your mouth.

The hell happened last night? You think blearily, blinking in the brightness of late morning sunlight that filters through your curtains. It’s too bright, but when you twist to try and draw them closed your body aches in protest.

You try to recall the evening from the night before, recalling your giggling laughter as Soap slung an arm around your shoulder and dragged you over to the dance floor of the club. He and Gaz had belted out the lyrics to the songs, muffled by the pump of the speakers, had stumbled over to the bar and ordered more drinks. The rest is a dizzying haze of color and light, but judging from your clothes crumpled and the foul taste in your mouth, you can judge it didn’t go well.

“Fuckin hell…” You groan at a fresh wave of throbbing at your temples. Yet your stomach rumbles, empty and biting at your insides, and at last it forces you from bed, stumbling down the stairs of your flat towards the kitchen.

Yet as you enter inside you’re startled to find a gigantic, looming figure in a dark hoodie, mask bunched around his nose as he sips from a mug that seems far too small for his massive hands.

“Ghost?” You squeak in surprise, bracing in the doorway with shock clear across your face.

Ghost looks up at you, dark eyes not smudged with paint and clear behind his plain black balaclava. He doesn’t look surprised to see you at all, unlike you.

“Was beginning to wonder if you were dead.” He remarks flatly, holding your gaze for a long moment, just enough to make your cheeks burn. You’re still dressed in your clothes from last night, hair messy and makeup likely smudged to shit. Yet Ghost appears entirely nonplussed, at last turning towards the kettle.

“You don’t remember.” He observes, and when you shake your head you groan, the motion far too much for your hangover headache. He glances over his shoulder at you, nodding with meaning towards a chair at the kitchen table.

“Where’s Johnny…Gaz?” You ask as you gently lower yourself down, cradling your head in your hands.

“Probably still bollocksed.” Ghost declares, turning and leaning on the counter as the kettle simmers behind him. “They were bog-faced by the time they called me. Said you were fallen from grace, from what I could make out.”

You knew that much, can tell from the way your stomach distantly rolls with discontent. It doesn’t explain why he’s here.

“So what?” You ask, rubbing your temples. “You helped me home?”

Ghost shrugs, mouth quirking with a hint of amusement in a rare glimpse of his expression. “Held your hair while you got sick, made you drink some water, kept you from texting your ex…joking.” He supplies at your aghast expression. “Settled down on your couch to make sure you didn’t wander out into the streets.”

You blink at that, raising your head from your hands and snapping to look at him. “Wait…you’ve been here all night?”

Ghost shrugs again, but this time there’s a strange ounce of guardedness to it, like he’s reluctant to admit he kept watch.

“...and Soap and Gaz?” You venture, and that makes the wry, barely sinister smile return.

“Told ‘em to bugger off. Might have to go hunting in some alleys for them later.”

You aren’t sure whether to laugh or be horrified with the dryness of his tone, half-convinced he’s telling the truth. Before you can ask, the kettle whistles behind him and Ghost turns, pouring the hot water into a second mug.

“Bloody sergeants.” He sighs, a little irritated. “Should have never let them take you out. Can’t be trusted when they’re sloshed.”

There’s a tone there that’s frustrated, and rather than it sitting unhappily in your chest it instead makes you smile.

He was worried.

Ghost turns, sets the mug of tea on the table before you, his hand covering the top. Yet when you reach for it he doesn’t move, and you glance up to see his severe stare leveled down at you.

“No more getting pished.” Ghost tells you severely in a low murmur, and you grimace, duck your head in a rightful amount of shame.

“No more drinking with the sergeants.” You recite dutifully, and Simon huffs a sound that almost feels like a chuckle.

He stands over you, arms crossed as you blow at your tea, watches as you finish it, and you feel warm under his gaze.

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #ghost x reader #ghost x you #simon riley x you #stay the night writing prompts #OK BUT I REALLY LIKED THIS ONE #I love Simon's sarcastic and kind of biting humor it's so fun to write #drabbles

556 notes · View notes