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bruisedboys · 9 months

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love drunk — miguel o’hara x reader

summary — while miguel deals with a drunk and clingy you, you accidentally let it slip that you love him. requested here

grumpy x sunshine!! spidergirl!reader, no pronouns used but implied fem!reader, grumpy miguel, kind of ditzy reader, drunk reader, established relationship, first ‘I love you’ trope, miguel being lovesick, fluff. so much fluff

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implied fem!reader 1.3k words

Miguel thinks he should never let you drink again in your whole life.

“Y/N,” he says through gritted teeth, irritated now. Actually, he was irritated ten minutes ago but was doing a better job at hiding it. “Come on. Get off me.”

You’re dead weight in his lap. He wouldn’t mind, he likes when you sit on him like this, only you’re in the middle of the bar and there are at least five Peter’s looking his way and smirking, and he can see Hobie Brown laughing at him behind his hand across the room.

“Whyyyyy?” You drawl, your lips slow and your tongue slower. You paw at his chest and give him a glare that’s about as menacing as a puppy. “You’re so mean.”

Miguel sighs heavily. He picks up his hands where they’d been hovering at your sides, unsure whether he should touch you or not when you’re like this, and gets a good grip on your hips.

“C’mon, get up,” he says. He lifts you off his lap with ease, fingers curling around your hips, and deposits you in the booth seat next to him.

To Miguel’s surprise, you don’t flop into his side or try to climb back onto him like he thought you would. Where seconds ago you were like a rag doll, you sit rigid straight.

“What?” He asks you, genuinely confused.

“Sorry,” you say quietly, frowning to yourself. “I didn’t mean that. You’re not mean.”

Miguel blinks at you. “Oh. No, that’s not why I made you get off, sweetheart. I know you don’t actually think I’m mean.”

Slowly, you brighten up like a wind up toy, springing back to life in slow motion with a big smile painting itself across your mouth, all teeth. “Oh, okay. Can I get back on you now?”

Miguel actually laughs. He’s very tempted to say yes, you can sit in his lap as long as you like. He doesn’t, mostly because you’re very obviously past your limit and you need a bed and some water. Neither of which he can get you here.

“You’re funny, cariño,” he tells you, chucking you under the chin with his knuckles. You beam up at him, eyes squinting so much they’re half closed. He indulges himself in a squeezing of your cheek before breaking the news, “No, you can’t get back on me—“ Your face falls, “—But I can take you to bed?”

Your smile comes back so quick it’s alarming, and you nod vehemently. “Yeah, please.”

Miguel manages to get you out of the Spider-Bar (nicknamed by one of the Peter’s, he can’t remember which but Miguel refuses to call it that. It’s just a section off the second floor of Headquarters where Spider-people migrate to drink.) without you tripping over your own feet. He’s discovering you’re a very clumsy, clingy drunk. That, and you really can’t hold your liquor. He’s only had a little less than you and he feels completely fine. Other than the burning in his chest, though he’s pretty sure that has more to do with you and your presence than the alcohol.

He gets you into an elevator and holds you up when you slouch into his side. His arm around your hip and both of your hands clinging like vines to his free arm, tight enough to ache but he can’t bring himself to ask you to loosen your grip a little. He’d be lying if he said he doesn’t enjoy your apparent desperation to stick to him like glue.

The elevator dings and the doors slide open. A gaggle of Spider-Women wait on the other side, Jess among them. The younger girls giggle amongst themselves when they see the predicament they’ve caught their haughty boss in.

“Hey, Miguel,” Jess drawls as she sidles past him, Miguel practically dragging you out of the elevator now and out of the way of the girls. “Hey, Y/N.” She grins at your inebriated state, then looks to Miguel, “Early night?”

It’s almost midnight. Miguel can’t tell if she’s teasing or not. She probably is. “Yeah.”

“Miguel’s taking me to bed,” you pipe up, a lustful tone to your sticky, slurry voice that Miguel winces at. He hadn’t meant it like that. Clearly, your drunk mind had taken it that way. He’ll be sure to set the record straight once you’re safe and alone in his room.

Jess laughs loud. “Right. Well, have fun with that.”

She’s still laughing as the elevator doors slide shut. Miguel sighs. He’s not gonna hear the end of that for at least a week. You tug on his arm and smile up at him sweetly, and he forgets all about it.

“What is it, cariño?” He hums.

“Can you carry me? My feet are sore.”

Miguel indulges you. Partly because you’d asked and he’s yet again been tasked with the challenge of saying no to you (which he fails at every time), and partly because you’re slowing him down and he really wants to get to his room before he meets anyone else. He scoops you up easily, one arm hooked beneath your thighs and the other under your back. You giggle dazedly and hook your arms around his neck tight enough that it’d hurt anyone but Miguel, burying your face in his neck, your flyaway hair tickling his skin.

By the time he gets you to his room you’re half asleep in his arms. He’d let you sleep but your suit is constricting. He deposits you on the bed in the dark and switches on the lamp. He only manages to turn on his heels before you’re grabbing his arm, warm hand wrapping around his wrist with a clumsy desperation.

“Don’t go,” you murmur, eyes half closed.

Miguel pries your hand away gently. “I’m not going anywhere. Just getting your pyjamas.”

You allow it but you make a grab for him as soon as he’s back, hands warm at his waist. He stands in front of you and undresses you out of your spidersuit, then redresses you into the pyjamas you keep in his room. You keep quiet other than the occasional hiccup and despite your amorous comment earlier you don’t try anything, even when you’re completely bare-chested and Miguel is standing over you. While he pulls your shirt over you head, your hands find his hips and grip them like somebody’s trying to take him away from you.

He gives you a glass of water which you skull back like you’re about to die of thirst. He refills the glass and when he comes back you’ve turned the light off and buried yourself under the covers. He thinks you’re asleep until he goes to put the glass on the bedside table and your hand sneaks out of the sheets, reaching for him.

“Miguel…” you murmur, fingers brushing his abdomen. You tilt your head up towards him, searching for him in the dark.

“You okay?” He asks, concerned you’re not feeling well. He hopes you’re not the kind of drunk who throws up everything they drank. Though he can’t say he’d mind looking after you even if you were.

“I’m fine,” you say softly. It’s dark and he can barely see your face but he hears your next words just fine. “Thank you for looking after me … I love you.”

Miguel is so shocked he almost drops the glass of water he’s holding. Sure, he knew you had feelings for him. He knew you care for him about as much as he does for you, which is an inordinate amount. To hear you say it is different. His fondness for you multiplies by about a million and the chasm in his chest feels, not for the first time since he met you, a little bit smaller.

He knows you probably won’t remember it in the morning, but it’s been said and his chest is aflame. He sets the cup down and then crouches next to your lovely, tired face, and cups your cheek. He presses a soft kiss to your temple, and then your lips. Your eyelashes flutter as your eyes fall shut and you smile.

Miguel waits til he’s sure you’re asleep to say it back — vulnerability’s never really been his strong suit. He tucks hair away from your face, feeling a bit drunk himself. Just not from anything he drank. “I love you too, mi amor.”

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princessbrunette · 23 days

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bunny!reader didn’t like being bad. infact, bunny!reader was bad at being bad.

“you slammin’ my doors now, huh? is that — is that what we’re doin’?” his voice booms through the hallway, and you regret it as soon as you’d happened to shut rafe’s bedroom door with just a tad too much attitude.

you wouldn’t call it a dispute, moreso you complaining. you’d gotten into trouble, purely over a misunderstanding on your part. barry had told you that he was your friend, and that you were welcome over to his place to hang out anytime. betrayed by your own naivety, you believed him — which lead to rafe all but dragging your ass back to tannyhill.

he doesn’t yell when he swings the door open, controlling himself. he knows deep down you didn’t mean any harm by it — so instead of spiralling out, he sucks in a breath, closing his eyes for a moment as he lifts a hand in thought.

“just… talk to me, alright? i need you to tell me you understand why you can not be friends with barry.” he stresses, opening his eyes wide to step towards you slowly, moving extra carefully because of the way your lip wobbled, body frozen up.

“i don’t want to talk.” you mewl, resisting the urge to thump your foot. you were never bratty, so he was allowing you some space — he had his limits though. rafe leans on his hip, holding his hand up again in despair.

“well, what — you want the belt, then? will that make you talk?” he shook his head, exasperated and you shake your head with a whimper. “okay then, so…?” he prompts.

“i just don’t understand. you’re the one who told me i should make some more friends!” you argue, voice high pitched and upset.

“yeah i meant girls at the country club, kid. not the god damn dealer i work with.” he drawls in response, blinking a couple of times like it’s obvious.

you hug your arms, feeling very silly about the whole thing as you shrink a little in stature. “i just thought that if we became friends with the same person… we could all hang out together. get to be around you more…” you bleat and he stressfully smooths his brow down with the pads of his fingers.

“thats not how it works.”

“well i’m sorry! barry is the one that said he wanted to be my friend!”

he tongues at his cheek for a moment before closing in on you, an irritated squint occupying his glare. “you really think he wants to be your friend? huh? nah, no really — really think about it baby.” he’s right infront of you, lightly tapping your temple to punctuate his word choice. rafe places a hand on your shoulder, bending to your level so he can look you properly in the eyes, forehead creasing in exertion. “i say this because i care about you, alright — he wants to fuck you. because — because that makes me look bad, right? and… and he’s always looking for ways to get back at me and plus you’re always sitting there with your fuckin’ titties hanging out your shirt so yeah, baby. he wants to fuck you.”

he lets go of you to pace, annoyed. you watch as he runs a hand over his jaw and you sniffle quietly. “oh.”

“yeah.” he speaks before glancing at you. he can see how upset the whole thing has made you, so he reluctantly starts back towards you with a sigh. “look. it’ll be easy for you to make some actual, female friends. okay? you’re a good girl. you’re — you’re kind and sweet and patient and they’d be lucky to have you.” he cups the back of your head before pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“am i your friend rafe?” you peer up at him, so innocently and earnestly that it takes him back.

“y— what?”

“are we friends? together?” you blink.

“you’re my girlfriend.” he speaks like it’s obvious.

“mhm, but are we friends too?”

he itches his cheek, never having really thought about it before. honestly, he didn’t really see it that way — but maybe that was because rafe cameron didn’t really have female friends. not before you and certainly not after you. it just didn’t interest him. aside from wanting to rip your clothes off 24/7, the boy did surprisingly just enjoy being in your company. so, he licks his parted lips and nods.

“that what you want? yeah, kid. i’m your friend. okay?” he swipes his thumbs beneath your eyes, collecting the mascara that had pooled beneath. “now stop crying.”

#rafe cameron prompt #bunny!reader

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targaryenluvs · 3 months

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— THUNDERSTRUCK!

pairings: luke castellan x daughterofzeus!reader, percy jackson x fem!reader (platonic & half-siblings)

summary: the one where percy’s babysitter ends up at camp with him, and may or may not be the child of a certain stormy man as well as falling in love with a thief (of her heart & other things).

warnings: fluff, percy takes on the brotherly role, protective perce, flirting, violence, protective reader over percy, possessive luke thoughts, kisses, makeoutish, timegap

wordcount: 4.2k (i went crazy)

a/n: i think i’ve seen this film before— (thalia wya) since a lot of people love protective percy/persassy! hope you like it!! i listened to it whilst making it sooooo i recommend!

taglist: @apollos-calliope @purplerose291 @loveyava @ohh-to-be-rich-and-pretty @iluvthemoonandthestars @chr1sgirl4life @liv1104 @fairycheol @coryoskywalker@perseus-jackass @hottiewifeyyyy @lizheartsyou @repostingmyfavs @lovelyforesst

you and percy had experienced so much in the last days, now at a random camp, that had been scarcely explained to you by sally and grover as the four of you made your way to camp.

beforehand, you’d been finishing up on your last school assignment when a knock on your door drew you from your laptop, then percy barged his way into your apartment soaking wet. “oh! okay what the hell? percy aren’t you freezing? what’re you doing here?” you’d since placed your laptop on the coffee table, jogging over to the door as percy smiled up at you, “montauk baby!”

you laughed, “montauk?” he nodded as you grinned, “i’ll be down in five, you are so lucky my flatmates aren’t here they’d make you scrub the wet floors.” once you were out of view, percy made it a point to shake his body and hair, droplets of water dispersing around the apartment. he hated your flatmates, two annoying boys who loved to stare at you. luckily you were too busy hauling ass with your backpack and gym bag, stuffed full of clothes and snacks.

sally greeted you with a smile, a hug and a kiss on the forehead, “how are you sweetheart?” your smile was practically blinding, “very excited, let’s hit the road!”

you’d already begun to tune out whilst sally explained, godly parentage and all. but not out of spite or confusion, only sadness. one of your parents weren’t actually your parent. whilst it seemed that your father was the obvious candidate, goddesses did exist as well. percy had never really been with his father let alone grown up with him for 18 years, so it was different for him than it was for you.

as if that wasn’t enough, grover being split in half as a goat had you rubbing your eyes, hoping for a different outcome when you opened them again, sorely disappointed when greeted with hooves and fur.

but nothing could have prepared you for watching sally’s demise. having had a hand in raising you, loving and shaping you into the amazing woman you were now, and now she was dust. snapping back into the moment a tad late, the sight of percy fighting the beast caused your heart to beat a thousand miles quicker.

“perce!” you’d tried to aid him, pulled back by grover, whom you’d recently learned was actually 24. in another, less serious moment, maybe you would’ve listened to your elder and his pleas for you not to interfere. your feet carried you to percy and the minotaur, grabbing a nearby rock you threw it as a distraction, momentarily drawing its attention. percy then stabbed it with its own horn, reducing it to dust as he fell down and you held him.

“please, please stay awake. stay with me perce.” you clutched onto him, but your pleas went unheard as grover’s did with you. his eyes fluttered to a close, but not before you heard him whisper, “mom?” your heart clenched at the misunderstanding.

you stuck by him the whole time, when chiron and the others found you, whilst he was in the infirmary, you stayed by his side. when grover promised you that he’d be there for percy, and urged you to eat and take a walk, you relented.

the dark haired boy had his head down whilst walking, in his head he’d been contemplating whether or not he wanted to visit the newcomers. which he did either way. he ran right into you, as you met the ground and he profusely apologised, “i’m so sorry, i wasn’t watching where i was— going.” it was rare for luke castellan to be at a loss for words, but as he met your eye he didn’t care. you were undeniably gorgeous, messy y/h/c hair, sweet yet drained eyes, and a small smile drawn on your lips.

“you’re… so fine. like, as in— you’re okay. it’s okay, we both didn’t watch ourselves. not that i’m blaming you! just—,” you breathed out as he grinned, “i’m luke… castellan, head counsellor of hermes cabin.” you giggled as he scratched the back of his head, “i could’ve left off the last part huh?” he didn’t want to come off as bragging, but it did seem like he was. you scrunched your nose and eyes, “yeah, probably.”

he lent his arm to you, hauling you up. “i know my name, you know my name, you know your name. seems like i’m the odd one out.” luke grinned as you laughed, the two of you found it easy to talk to one another, “i’ll tell you, when you’ve earned it.” shrugging your shoulders, you turned on your heel heading for the infirmary.

luke stood behind and watched, his voice was distant but still loud enough for you, “what do i have to do to earn it?” you shook your head, quickly turning back to him to shout out, “if i tell you, then you won’t chase after me will you?” your smile was imprinted in luke’s head, he only wanted to see it more often, you more often. and he sure as hell wasn’t above a chase.

the rest of the day was spent settling you and percy in. once he’d awoken, he immediately asked after his mother, but of course that wasn’t possible.

your presence was the only thing that percy knew, helping him calm down. the two of you were completely new in a place where the people around you seemed to have been at forever. and whilst you’d barely talked the people around you, they all spoke about the pair of you.

your journey had seemed to reach the ears of all the campers, including a certain ares girl.

clarisse whole heartedly believed percy to have lied about his encounter with the minotaur, for whatever reason. you’d found that out when luke was taking percy on a tour, whilst you’d been talking to chiron about settling percy in.

on your way back you’d noticed her talking to him.

“you want attention around here dummy? better be ready for it when it comes.” she snickered as percy stumbled backwards, but not before you steadied him from behind. “you okay perce?” he nodded whilst you surveyed him for any injuries, once you’d deemed him to be okay, you pushed him behind you.

percy’s troubled past was not foreign to you, teasing and bullies and expulsions galore. you’d never held it against him, percy was your brother, and you knew who he was. he was kind, and funny, a joke up his sleeve at all times, wide eyed and curious of his surroundings, fiercely loyal and friendly to those he loved. at times his mouth got him in trouble, but at the end of the day, he was always your perce. the one who’d always ditch school to take care of you when you were sick, the one who glared and protected you against your roommates, the same perce who puked for hours when sally and you had indulged him in blue foods for his birthday. he was your brother, you couldn’t protect him at times, but you’d be damned if you let it happen right infront of you.

“he’s twelve, twelve years old. how old are you? you might think it’s hilarious to bully new kids around, but i sure as hell don’t. stay away from him.” clarisse scoffed, crossing her arms, “i don’t like liars, he is a liar. and so are you. admit you faked the minotaur killing.” it was your turn to scoff, “it happened, why the hell would we lie about it? get over yourself honestly, are we continuing the tour or what?” luke clicked his tongue, “see you around clarisse.”

he could tell you weren’t in the best mood so he took it upon himself to make you smile, “how much do you want to bet he ends up poking someone’s eye out?” you and luke stood side by side as percy adjusted his protective glasses, attempting to weld. “how much do you want to bet he starts a fire?”

as the three of you ran out your laughs mixed in with luke, “pay up!” percy scrunched his eyebrows, “you bet on me? that’s rude.” you ruffled his hair as he swatted your hand away, “as if you could do any better Y/N.” luke smiled at the slip of your name whilst you groaned, “guess i didn’t have to earn it.” luke whispered into your ear. percy didnt like the close proximity, so he injected himself in between you two.

the rest of the day was spent trying to find what percy was good at, and then laughing at his failed attempts. then percy being annoyed at you and luke.

you’d stuck by percy’s side the whole day to which he protested, “i can be alone for a minute yknow?” the two of you were currently walking back from dinner, “okay, one, two—,” he threw his head back and groaned, “you know what i mean.” your hand rested on percy’s shoulder, “i’ll give you some time okay? just make sure you get back to the cabin before curfew, i think it’s going to rain.” percy nodded, walking off to wherever.

but you weren’t alone for long.

“so, how’d i do?” luke took up the space percy had occupied moments ago, “what do you mean?” he walked infront of you before turning around, “did i earn it? your name?” the smile on your face was hard to fight as you averted your gaze to ground, face beginning to heat up at his smile, “i’d say yes, but percy told you my name anyways. but you did also earn something else.”

“and what’s that?”

“my company.”

luke liked the idea of that, “well then, i’ll do my best to deserve it. do you want to take a walk with me?” you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, “isn’t curfew soon?” his hand was outstretched towards you, reminiscent of your first meeting, “lucky for you, i’m somewhat above the average camper.”

and so you took his hand, time and along the way his breath. just looking at you was enough to make him happy, the bitterness buried deep as he listened in for your laugh. admiring you in the moonlight, committing your face to memory.

your stomach hurt, bad.

the only times you laughed this hard were with percy. “there’s no way! you caught them trying to make out, twice?” luke nodded, “in the same night, basically infront of everyone. they’re both only eleven, so i’m guessing their understanding of relationships and privacy doesn’t span far.” you buried your face in your hands as luke shook his head, “uh-uh, if i’m talking to you, i need to see all of you.” you both sat at the dining pavilion, facing each other.

it only made you resort to hiding in between your knees next, “i can’t! i look crazy.” luke’s hands came to your wrists in an attempt to pry them away, which was successful, but then you hid by your knees. he did think about prying theme apart, but then blood shot to his face when he realised how sexual it was. so he rested his hands on your knees, which made you peek up at him. his eyes bore into yours, unrelenting and unashamed.

“you look gorgeous, all the time. and i seriously can’t hold a conversation with you if i can’t see your pretty face.” his words caused you to rise, legs coming down to rest on either side of the bench, “pretty huh? and what do you know about pretty girls?” luke crossed his arms as he smirked, “not much, just that i’m looking at the best one.” you smacked his chest, “god you’re such a flirt.” the two of you rose up from the table as luke smiled, “how can i not when you’re right here?”

you took in a deep breath, not expecting it to trap itself in your throat. you were alone, for once. you were alone. with an exceptionally strong, sweet, lovely guy, who seemed to have an affinity for you.

luke was revelling in your shyness, the more he got to know you the more he wanted to be with you. not only were you kind, but you stood your ground. even with clarisse, the second she targeted percy you stood in between the two. it was one of the many things he liked about you. he also liked the idea of stepping a little closer, maybe touching your face, kissing you?

as much as you wanted to get closer to him, you weren’t sure of yourself. and if it was past curfew then you couldn’t help but wonder if percy was safe and sound. “we should head back!” you spun around and began walking whilst luke sighed, “yeah, we should.”

you expected for him to either;

a) not be there

b) be asleep

c) be making his way back

not for him to be in the bathroom, held by clarisse and her friends shouting for you, “y/n!”

“let him go! now!” you screamed as you ran towards him, but clarisse held onto your arm, “he needs to learn his lesson.” you laughed, this girl and her stubbornness needed to be studied, “what the hell is wrong with you? my god he didn’t fake anything! he’s a poor kid who saw his own mother disappear infront of him! he’s terrified!” clarisse was strong, you’d give her a point for that.

but she ignited an ungodly amount of anger in your body. you pulled against her to get to percy as the storm outside made its presence known as you screamed, “let go!” thunder rattled through the air, striking outside the door, as clarisse and the girls were hurtled back by water. you immediately ran to percy, “are you okay? did they hurt you? i swear i’m going to—,” percy cut your rambling off with a tight hug, “you came.” the tears in your eyes fell free as you held onto him, “you called.”

annabeth stood at the door with luke whilst percy interrogated her, “are you stalking me annabeth?” their conversation was drowned out as luke made his way over to you, “are you okay?” he surveyed you for any outstanding differences, a cut or two. “i’m okay, i’m fine. thank you luke, i just need to get percy in bed. i’ve had enough of this camp for a day.”

you were on auto drive, the only thing on your mind was getting percy to your cabin, the ghost of a kiss you’d left on luke’s lips as you hurried out of the place didn’t register until you were in bed. luke seemed to enter years later, quiet steps to his bed alerting you. “luke?” your voice was hushed whilst calling out for him, aware of the other campers, “y/n?” he was in bed now, sat up.

“d’you mind if i—?” you gestured towards him and his mattress as his eyes lit up in recognition, “oh. oh! yeah.” you awkwardly shuffled into his bed, knees touching his as you sat facing one another, “do you wanna—?” “i’m sorry for…” the two of you overlapped, after a beat of silence just meeting his eye caused you two to break out in hushed giggles and laughter.

“i kissed you, very randomly. i’m sorry luke.” he shook his head and smiled, “it’s fine, i liked it.” your eyebrows travelled up as you straightened your back, “you.. you didn’t mind?” his hands held onto yours, “not at all, i haven’t known you long, and you haven’t known me. but i want to continue getting to know you sweetheart.”

your smile could’ve stretched miles across america, your eyes shone brightly, if you’d asked he would give you the world. he was going to, wouldn’t it be nice? having someone by his side through it all?

that night you both slept side by side, his arms seemed to envelope you entirely. his nose dug into your neck, uncomfortable but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. luke slept soundly that night, his hands trailing over you, in the night and morning. being awoken by a kiss, morning breath be damned.

“not that i don’t love it, but what’s got you in such a good mood?” luke continued kissing down your neck as you giggled, “it tickles!” he murmured whilst continuing, “i don’t care.” your hands ran through his curls, your morning bliss was ruined by a yelp of surprise.

“what the— y/n?!” percy’s face was pure disgust as you shoved luke to the side, not realising that you’d been on the edge of the bed until luke collided with the hard wood floors with an ‘oof’. “oh god, are you okay?” a thumbs up had you smiling, before you realised the mess that you were in with percy.

“how? when? why?”

“all those questions will be answered eventually, percy, it’s nothing crazy okay? just calm down.” percy scoffed, “nothing crazy? it’s basically only been a few weeks and he has his tongue down my sisters throat.” that sobered you up, sleep washed away, “sister? did you just—?”

“i don’t know, but please, just try not to around me.” percy felt slightly embarrassed at letting you know how he thought of you. how could he not expect you to be a sister? you’d been in his life forever. “okay, not to interrupt but—,”

“then don’t.” percy snapped as you groaned, “ignore his royal sassiness, continue luke.” luke brushed himself off as he continued to speak, “todays capture the flag.”

percy wanted to throw himself over a cliff.

everyone else was amped up, practicing with friends and strategising whilst he sat on the grass as you triple checked his armour, “i think i’m fine y/n, do you want some bubble wrap? extra security.” he joked as you sighed, “i just want to make sure you’re okay, is that so wrong?” percy sighed, “no, i guess not.” you held onto his shoulders as you looked into his eyes, “i’m sorry.”

before percy could even ask for the reason for your apology a sloppy peck on his cheek was left behind as you ran off. “y/n!” you laughed at his screechy voice, but chirons voice explaining the rules shut you up.

the game seemed to be going well, you hoped so.

you were currently viewing percy floss on a rock, which made you want to push him over it, which you couldn’t for obvious reasons you settled for pelting his armour with rocks and pebbles. “ow!” you laughed at his exclamation, knowing it hadn’t hurt him, “please, it only hit your armour.” percy shrugged, “still.”

maybe you’d been to engrossed in staring at pebbles and thinking about luke but the girls managed to surround you. sword in hand you rose from the floor, tossing percy’s things his way. your own sword clutched tightly, “flags that way, it’s not here.” clarisse smirked as she held onto her own spear, “we know. yeah, glory’s fine. revenge is more fun.” you shook your head, disbelief filling you, “god you just don’t stop do you?” she laughed, “no maiming. it’s like the one rule.”

“yeah, i guess i’ll lose dessert privileges for a while. i’ll live.” your sword clashed with the girls, grunts ringing out through the air as you held your own. you weren’t concerned for yourself, only percy. you yelled out for him when he tripped over the log, “perce!”

clarisse stood infront of him, “i’m actually not interested in maiming or killing you, believe it or not. i just want you to admit you're a fraud, and that you’re having Y/N lie for you. it’d make me feel better. are you feeling up to that yet?” percy stumbled as he ran, you shoved the girl to the side and followed along, “keep running, don’t look back!” clarisse sighed, “guess that's a no.”

you ended up on the shore, percy rolling over as he stumbled to his feet, they all surged forwards as you continued to fight. clarisse mainly focused on percy whilst you held off the other two. one of the girls was overconfident, believing herself to be able to take you down with a few hits. your hand managed to slide into her armour on her shoulder, wrapping your hand around it you slung her into the water with all your strength. cringing when you heard her slam on the floor.

the other girl huffed, “wonder what we’ll do when you lose. maybe i’ll go over to your precious little percy, beat him around. a few stabs and slices might teach him the meaning of honesty.” her words were fuel to the fire inside you, your hands and body felt alive the second you began fighting, as if you were meant for it. you were going to beat this girl to the ground.

the victory of your team wasn’t enough to stop you, a moment of hesitance formed when luke planted the red flag into the floor as he celebrated with chris. spoiling his happiness was chris, “isn’t that your girl?” luke’s head whipped to look over at you on the shore, sword in hand as you faced off with the girl, percy held up by clarisse.

“it’s one thing to threaten me, but percy? you’re going to beg me to stop.” the campers were quiet, the entire area was abuzz with anticipation. your yell and hers broke the silence as you charged at eachother.

hit after hit, you continued pushing her back. swords colliding as you put all your force into the fight, the swords neared her throat. her terrified expression made you grin, “told you.” her legs were swept out from underneath her as she slammed into the floor, sword taken from her grasp by you.

luke cheered when she fell, igniting a string of applause and support from your team. but right now? all you could focus on was her. “you think this means anything? i’ve been fighting my whole life, you’re nothing. he’s nothing but a lying loser who lost his mommy.” the girl spit out blood, her teeth painted crimson. the power you felt looking down on her was unmatched by anything in your life. glancing backwards you viewed annabeth speaking with percy, who, thankfully, wasn’t fatally injured.

your grip on the hilt of your sword tightened as you lowered yourself, knee resting on either side of her waist. up above, dark clouds began to form, threatening a storm again. rage surged through you as you picked her up by her armour, “say it again! say it again and i’ll break you in half bitch!” your screams echoed as the campers watched on, you shoved her to the floor before raising your arms, your sword held high as you struck it down. right next to her head, simultaneous lighting struck all around you.

the thunder was deafening, but with the girl out of your way your focus came back with only one thought, percy. you turned around only to view percy standing in the water, a trident above his head. “percy!” you pointed towards it as he looked up in shock, what you didn’t expect was for him to point at you.

a lightning bolt, right above you.

luke’s jaw was close to the floor, you and percy had been claimed, both forbidden children. now this was awkward. but he swallowed his anger and made his way to you when he could. by then you’d already spoken with chiron, and had the situation explained to you. currently you were settling into your new cabin.

a knock on your door drew your attention as you called out, “who is it?”

“hint, it’s not clarisse. so don’t strike me down with lightning, i quite like being unburnt.” the voice you’d hoped to hear flowed through the room, “come in, please.” luke closed the door behind him as he made his way to you, “please? you really wanted to see me didn’t you?” he teased as you rolled your eyes.

“you’re not wrong.” your hands pulled on the drawstrings of his hoodie, tying them together and undoing. luke took in your change of demeanour, brushing stray hairs behind your ear, “you want to talk about it?” your lips pressed into a tight line, “not really. can we just sit? maybe read?” luke picked up a book from your bag whilst you laid down.

he laid down next to you as you settled your head onto his chest, “percy’s okay, i spent about an hour with him, talking. isn’t that funny? i always treated him like he was my brother, and he is.” he hummed, leaning his head onto yours, “makes sense, seeing you beat the crap out of the ares girl, knew you had to be something special. it was also very hot to watch.” you shifted to look up at luke, his smirk was evident as you buried your face.

“don’t get shy on me now, i’m just love struck. i have a lovely girl on my side, how am i supposed to hold myself back?” your hand traced a lightning bolt over his chest, “lovestruck huh?” he nodded along proudly, “maybe not lovestruck.” you sat up a bit, “what do you mean?” the concern laced in your voice was hard to miss.

“i’m thunderstruck.”

“and i’m going to murder you.” your hands attacked his side as he laughed.

“i take it back i swear!”

#luke castellan x y/n #luke castellan x you #luke castellan fluff #luke castellan x fem!reader #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #percy jackson x fem!reader #percy jackson imagine #percy jackson fic #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson and the olympians

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luveline · 4 months

Text

kisses before dinner — steve comes home to his girls after a long day. 2k, mom!reader

Steve has a back ache twinging between his shoulders that takes his breath away as he takes the step up into the front door. It gets caught on the latch, which is awesome, Steve’s so glad you’re being safe late at night, but deplorable in that he has wood grain etched into his jaw and no way inside.

“Girls?” He knocks the glass pane. “Anybody home?”

Everyone should be home. Your car is in the driveway, the girls’ shoes are by the wall. He pushes the door open as far as he can (not far) and weasels his face into the gap to look for you. It’s dark besides the upstairs bathroom light.

Steve calls your name a few times, but eventually comes to the realisation that you’re all asleep and he’s locked out. He closes the door and heads back to his car to scrounge the spare back door key from under his seat.

He fights through the garden gate covered in brambles to the backyard. It hasn’t been touched since summer, forgotten things left to the elements. Avery’s bike flakes with copper coloured rust against the wall. The trampoline net is tangled and fallen off of one side. There are plastic cups in the stinging nettles growing back beneath it and gummy bears swollen with water along the paving stones like some poor retelling of Hansel and Gretel. He unlocks the back door and promptly knocks over the trash can he’d left in front of it. His back whines as he cleans it away, but at least it’s warm inside.

It’s good to be home.

He shoves the toppled garbage back into the can, washes tomato sauce off of his hands in the sink, and lets himself bask in his own poorly lit company for a moment, rubbing his tired eyes. He was hoping for a welcome party. It took longer to help Robin move than they’d anticipated.

“I won’t be back for a while,” he’d said apologetically down the phone.

“Okie dokie,” you’d crooned. He didn’t need to see you to know there was a baby in your lap. “Just come home when you can, babe. And lift with your knees! I’ll put your plate in the fridge, yes? Love you.” Your voice turned to sugar. “Love you, love you, love you, honey.” You definitely weren’t talking to him at that point. Mother of my kids, he’d thought reverently, the strength of a thousand men restored for an hour or two before the fatigue truly set in and he and Robin considered leaving the rest of her furniture on her new front lawn.

He scratches his hair from his eyes with both hands. Mother of my kids, he thinks again. You’ve actually managed to keep the kitchen tidy, the only evidence of a day of play being the grape juice rings on the dining table placemats. How the fuck you’ve done it is a miracle worth marvelling. Three children, one (admittedly smaller) baby bump, and a full eighteen hours by yourself. You’re very impressive.

He decides to tell you emphatically with his face in your neck. He should shower, and he will apologise to you for subjecting you to his sweaty hair in the morning. You’ll shrug off his apology, say something sweet about for better or worse or maybe wrinkle your nose and kiss him anyways.

Steve honestly can’t find any shame about how much he likes you. Like and love can begin to diverge in a marriage, especially after kids when your duty as parents is more important than it is as partners, but you’ve yet to let him pull away, and he won’t give you a reason to. He’ll keep trying as hard as possible to be a husband you can adore. And you don’t have to do much, really. Realistically you give the majority of yourself every day to Steve and your kids, but he would cling to you if you got sick of it. He knows he would. You could turn hermit and live under the bed, and Steve would spend half his life on his stomach just looking at you.

Half trying to pull you out again. The other half getting the girls ready for school. He’s so tired he doesn’t realise that this is too many halves.

When he gets to the top of the stairs he feels like a lifetime has passed since he left that morning, bright and early at 5AM. There’d been driving, car swaps, booing at people from behind the wheel, a hundred boxes, a million trips up and down the stairs, and a suspicious washing machine recalibration. This was without the cold coke drinking, peanuts, popcorn, mistimed movie references, and the obligatory insulting of Robin’s girlfriend’s mauve chaise, of which Robin refused to participate.

Between all that, there’d been worrying, and a want for more phone calls. Promise me you’ll call me if you need anything at all, he’d said that morning, giving your face a fond caress. There’s a confidence that comes with this much love. Steve can pour every inch of his affection for you into one touch and knows you’ll soak it up like a sponge. Really. Any problems, any stress, any tantrums. Just call me. I’m twenty minutes away.

You were grateful if amused, telling him he didn’t need to worry so much, and then offering him another slice of toast.

Is it weird how much I love my wife? he wonders, pushing open the bedroom door gently.

You’re actually awake! He’s shocked and a little betrayed to find you looking at him, but the betrayal fades when he notices the swelling around your eyes and your trembling arm as you hoist yourself up under Avery’s weight. He’s woken you up coming in.

“Sorry,” he mouths, frowning at your shakiness.

You manage a smile and beckon him forward. The problem is the little ladies strewn about in the way. Avery drools on your chest while Dove takes up the entirety of Steve’s side, spread into a star shape, and Bethie snores loudly by your knees. An especially aggressive one makes him laugh as he rounds the bed to your side.

“Hello,” he whispers, taking your face into a loving hand, “sorry I’m back so late.”

You smile into his palm but don’t say anything.

“You okay? Had a good day?” he asks.

You hum something nonsensical. He wipes at your cheek in the rough way you enjoy, your face bumped with every stroke of his thumb.

“Did you…” Your eyelashes flutter closed. “Did you eat?”

“Loads. Sorry. I’ll eat my dinner tomorrow.”

You wrinkle your nose. He’s been dying to see it. “Don’t bother, it wasn’t my best.”

“All dinners are your best.”

You cover his hand with yours, and then you steal it away from your cheek and kiss it all over. Steve bends down to hug you.

“Missed you,” you say at the same time. Steve laughs. “Was it a long day?” you ask.

“I could ask you the same thing.”

“It was aeons,” you say. “The girls were good, mostly. Baby not so much.”

“Aw, no,” he croons softly, “what’s she been doing?”

“She won’t let me eat.”

Steve rubs the top of your arm. “I’m sorry, honey. You should’ve called me.”

“What are you gonna do, H?”

He breathes out into the side of your face. “You’re right, of course. What can I do?”

He can’t do a thing to ease your morning sickness, so… Steve ends up taking a knee on the bed beside you to hold you for a while, no rush to lay down even though he aches in strings and shouts. “I’m glad I can’t get pregnant. I’d have hundreds of your babies if I could and it would be torture.”

You laugh at his absurdity in the giggly startled way he’d been hoping for.

“Did you throw up?” he asks, pulling away enough to see your face while his hand starts the soft journey down your front to your bump. You’re about three months along and the bump came quickly. It’s cute and Steve loves it and he tries not to be weird about it but he’s weird about you.

“No, just kept churning. I made eggs for breakfast and we can’t eat them anymore.”

Steve kisses your cheek, the corner of your eye, knowing it’ll make you happy. Your smile follows swiftly after, and he kisses that with gusto. “I don’t even like eggs,” he mumbles.

“You love eggs.”

“What was it like being the stay at home mom today?” he asks.

“Hard. But fun. Avery was being really nice to me all day, did you have something to do with that?”

“Avery’s always nice.”

Your smile widens impossibly, “Yeah, but she was asking me if I wanted to sit down and if I needed a glass of water all day.”

Steve shrugs. “Doesn’t sound like something I’d do.”

“Well don’t do it again, H. She’s just a baby. She doesn’t need to worry about me.”

Steve strokes your forehead, totally in your orbit. “She’s not worrying. Are you worrying about her when you take care of her? And sometimes you need a reminder.”

You chew it over. “Okay… you’re right. You win that one, Harrington. Mostly ‘cos I’m too tired.”

Steve always wins when he gets to slide into bed next to you. You push yourself over and bunch the kids up tighter. There’s not quite enough room for him. He feels as though he’s one little legged kick from falling back out, but he doesn’t mind, wrapping an arm around you and Avery where she’s sliding off of you and onto the mattress between you both. The poor girl is in a deep sleep, dribbling from the corner of her mouth. Steve wipes it away.

“You comfortable enough?” he asks.

“I’m fine. Thank you for asking.”

He rests his head against yours on the pillows. “Missed you.”

“But you had fun, right?”

“It was great. I feel like I ran a marathon.”

“Exhausted?” you ask.

“And accomplished… You sure you’re okay? It was a long day by yourself. That stunt you pulled in the kitchen? Incredible.”

“I thought you’d like that. I told the girls you’d buy them a pony.”

“You did not.”

You laugh into his cheek. “No, I didn't, you caught me… I’m fine, really. I did miss you. It’s not nice, not seeing you. I’m used to a couple of hours, but it started feeling wrong when it was dark out, I… it’s silly but I was thinking about how horrible it would be if you never came back–”

Your pitch lifts up as Steve gasps and slaps a hand over your mouth (doesn’t slap, but covers, big hand on your lips and pressing them shut without sympathy).

“Don’t be ridiculous.” He meets your eyes, smiling hard despite the fatigue clinging to you both, and doesn’t buckle, even as you kiss his palm again. “Pregnancy brain is a scary thing.”

Your eyes turn to melting. He’s putty immediately, pulling your hand away to caress your cheek.

“Wanna be crazy in love in the morning?” he asks gently. You put your arm behind Avery’s back and smile as she snuggles into your ribs. Steve kisses your nose. “Go to sleep, honey. I can feel how tired you are. Back to normal in the morning.”

“Love you, Steve.”

“Love you, too.”

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bigfatbimbo · 1 month

Note

saw ur post ab the vees and i wasn't sure if u wanted nsfw rambles or sfw rambles so like... i'll send the sfw rambles in a separate ask 😭

anywaysss im thinking ab putting them all in their place.... maybe they're all arguing over you or being pissy to eachother in general so you punish them all- seperately ofc, u cant have them getting off in eachothers pleasure bc ik damn well they'd be into watching you fuck someone else especially another one of the vees

i am always willing to rant about the vees🙏🙏🙏

summary — The Vees being humbled by the reader in the form of loose, unprofessional headcanons and vague thoughts.

warnings — dom reader, sub… everyone else, very messy, not proofread, read at the risk of incoherence

a/n — I HATE THEM SO MUCH!! THEY’RE THE WORST!! Let’s as a society fuck them to tears.

So, unpopular opinion, I’ve see a few ideas of being the vees collective lay or ‘plaything’ fucktoy, and the idea is so much more fun with a dom reader.

And i’m saying that objectively too, like not just as a dom reader blog. Because these are three people who make up the worst aspects of society, and lowkey are basically just manipulation tactics personified. Propaganda the trio!

Looking at these cocky assholes, who are the embodiment of what is considered terrible people, and who all have unmatched mathematically impossibly high egos, would it just be so fun to fuck the pride out of them?

Especially, for example, let’s say you’re around a lot and you’ve become a trusted person a good fuck for the Vees. They all have terrible attention seeking tendencies, so it would be safe to assume they’d be all over you.

Vox would be trying to talk to you about whatever particular subject he thinks is most interesting (about himself) to capture your attention, while Velvette would be close to you as well, flicking her phone your direction to show you something she finds funny or hot, but mainly as a subtle power-play to get your attention off Vox and onto her.

Valentino would be much less subtle, of course, by nature. He’d be all up around you, touching you, running his hands along your shoulder blades as he walks past, and probably the type to ‘drop something’ and bend over to flash you his fishnets and panties.

Needless to say, they’re all pissing each other off immensely. Obviously, being short tempered people, this leads to an argument because Velvette was ‘talking to you first’ but Vox had ‘actually important things to say’ and according to Valentino ‘the two of you were boring them out of their minds’ and he had to ‘spice your day up.’

Unfortunately for the Vees, you don’t do your one ‘job.’ Your attention isn’t given to any one of them. Yet. You just simply sit on the couch, scrolling through your phone and flicking through channels. Maybe you even actually leave the tower and go eat out or something.

Of course, until later when you pick them off one by one. And no matter who you decide to fuck senseless first, they will be so obviously loud just to be petty because, after all, you did choose them first. Like they would be being obnoxiously vocal about how ‘full they are’ or how ‘you’re going so fast!’ or some other fake shit like that. It’s honestly a whole show. Now, I feel like fucking all of them at the same time is kind of inevitable, because they’re all deprived horny freaks on the lowkey. (Except for Val it’s very highkey.) But I think there would be little mannerisms that appear on one on one sessions that they would NEVER show during a foursome. For example, Vox’s certain… titles he uses. mommy kink mommy kink mommy kink. Because he would literally die before calling you mommy or daddy in front of Velvette or Val. It’s okay when it’s just you because it’d be easier to be vulnerable around someone he trusts to set his dominance fully aside for.

And like, yeah, the other Vees know he gets fucked just like the rest of them, but it’s simpler for him to keep his illusion of dominance and respect out side of the bedroom, if the more shamefully submissive aspects of himself stayed hidden.

Also, I think Valentinos would have an easier time actually giving into to subbing during one on one sessions. Like yes, he does sub when it’s with you all the time. That’s the point of the fic.

But he’s less of a power bottom, and his flirtatious, incredibly disgusting remarks subside much faster into whimpers and whining.

Because, although less professional than Vox, he does still have an image. And when it’s just you fucking him, his vile horny comments disappear into whines for your attention in no time. Well actually a lot of time, but the point is that they actually do. And similar to Valentinos, Velvette’s confidence when bottoming alone with you is increasingly less apparent. Yea, she’s still bossy and definitely a power bottom, but there’s more of a recognition that she isn’t in charge. Honestly, she’s such a princess I think she’d actually have a very hard time going into subspace, even when alone. Because degradation just pisses her off. Why aren’t you worshipping her like you should be? But then it’s, what the fuck, why aren’t you worshiping her like you should be?? It makes her brat out even harder, which she does show in front of the other Vees, until she’s actually just needy to be pleased and given pleasure, making her twice as whiny. That aspect she does not show in front of the vees. But let’s talk about group sex with the Vees. Probably only used as a severe punishment, or a surprisingly giving reward. I have a very particular scene for the severe punishment aspect, however. So they’ve all been bad, but let’s say, for the sake of specifics to set the scene, Val has been worse. It is still a punishment for Vox and Velvette, but punishing them all to the same extent when Val has misbehaved clearly more would be wrong, would it not? They’re all greedy, selfish assholes, so you’ve concocted the perfect form of torture for your useless brats; they don’t receive anything until they’re good. Especially Val. Velvette has a strap on, so she can’t even feel anything but minor friction when you slide your worked open ass onto the plastic dick and open your legs, exposing your empty pussy to none other than Vox. He eats you out reluctantly, while rutting into the mattress as fast as he could, all while you cockwarm (and sometimes roll your hips to press the strap against her pussy uncomfortably) Velvette. Oh, and where’s Valentino? Tied up in a chair in front of the bed, getting a perfect shot while being totally naked and hard. You have a gag in his mouth too, because otherwise he’d be complaining the whole time. Because that’s just not fair, is it? He does this all day for a living. Seriously, he watches people fuck all day. It was his turn to feel something! And you would only have punished him more if he’d done something about this at work today. (Yikes..) I mean, this sounds like complete and utter bullshit. A lose-lose situation! But, it actually is completely fair. And as you’re receiving all the pleasure, from Velvettes feelingless, fake dick, Vox’s tongue while he humps the bed pathetically, and Val’s whines in complaint, you know the punishment is working. You’ve bothered them behind belief, you’ve hit a spot you knew would leave a message. Because none of the attention is on our poor little trio at all. These naturally selfish, greedy people, have to finally give. And god, they’re becoming more desperate for your attention and praise by the second.

a/n — We all know I love sub Vox. But this opened by eyes to how much I love sub Velvette and Valentino. REQUEST THEM ALL MORE.

Also, Rose, I CAN ALWAYS COUNT ON YOU FOR A FIRE ASF PROMPT.

if this flops im throwing myself out of a window btw

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #inbox open #hazbin hotel smut #dom reader #vox x reader #valentino x reader #velvette x reader #vox smut #valentino smut #velvette smut #sub vox #sub velvette #sub valentino #vox x you #velvette x you #valentino x you #the vees x reader

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justwannabecat · 7 months

Text

“Hey Mom, Dad, what would you do if me or Danny comes back as a ghost?”

Maddie looked at Jazz as though she were silly for even asking. “Why, we’d catch you, of course! It’s not like it would actually be you, just a shell.”

Jack frowned. “Even though it’s not really them, I’d still feel bad if we did any of our experiments. We’d probably just exterminate them as quickly as possible so your souls could rest.”

“But we could get so much information from them! Why wouldn’t we? It’s not like they’d feel it!” Maddie shot back. Jazz sighed and walked away as their voices began to rise, indicating a starting argument. She had what she came here for.

And, glancing at the cold spot by her side, so did Danny.

College is fast approaching, and Danny knows that it’s unlikely he’ll be accepted anywhere. Really, that’s fine. It’s just… he doesn’t want to spend the rest of his life living in fear of his parents and lying to them. It would even be fine if they restrict his powers as long as they close the portal and stop all the ghost attacks! He just doesn’t want to be scared!

So Team Phantom comes up with an idea. Jazz will ask what will happen to them if they become ghosts. And Jack and Maddie both agree that, at the very least, they should be caught and Ended. There is no chance for a safe reveal. No hope that he could ever stay.

So he leaves. Jazz switches to Gotham U without telling her parents, and Sam and Tucker both agreed that they wouldn’t go to Gotham for college to throw off any leads the Fentons might have.

They destroyed the portal before they left. A very, VERY thick layer of ghost ice managed to contain most of the damage. They leave behind two prerecorded tapes, one where Danny knows they’re recording a message and one where Jazz quietly threatens the Fentons to leave them alone. She says that she would sooner kill them before she lets them lay a hand on Danny, who by the way, still feels emotions and pain, and your stupid confirmation bias is preventing you from making any real progress in your career.

(That’s all I have so far but I couldn’t stop thinking about it lol)

#also found out how to do read more! yay! lol #dc x dp #dp x dc #dpxdc #dcxdp #do the Fenton parents hunt down their kids?#do they take a step back and reevaluate everything they noted and see they’re horribly wrong?#do they have differing opinions?#personally I’d like good Fenton parents #but you do you #danny phantom #batman #dp x dc prompt

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joequiinn · 21 days

Text

The Dos & Don'ts of Fake Dating | E.M. x reader | pt. 1

[all chapters here]

summary: You propose a crazy idea to the resident freak of Hawkins, Eddie Munson. But maybe he was even crazier for agreeing to it…

notes & tropes: fem reader, faking dating, opposites attract, bratty rich bitch reader, super minor revenge plot, not-quite-enemies-to-lovers

a/n: Was I the only one who turned 18 a month into their senior year and then proceeded to spiral and become The Worst version of themself possible?? Well, this fic is semi-inspired by that shitty part of my life lmao. Reader figure skates though. I can’t figure skate, hurts my feet lol. I never expected to write a fake dating story, but Eddie Munson has had me bewitched for nearly 2 years now, so here we go.

(if you'd like to be added to a tag list, pls let me know!)

wc: 3.9k

Chapter One

The idea came to you during a student council meeting as the class president was droning on about the ‘85 homecoming preparations: you needed to do something crazy, something completely and utterly out of character.

Maybe it was because of your ex breaking up with you just weeks before school started. Maybe it was that senior year itch. Maybe it was the realization that you were turning 18 next week. Hell, maybe you just woke up that morning with a strong sense that the things in your life were no longer satisfying you.

Whatever the cause, since the start of your senior year, you’ve just felt so off.

Your ex, Duncan, breaking up with you right before school started was a low blow, and an absolutely shitty feeling - you didn’t date much, but when you did, it was never the guy that ended things. It wasn’t shitty because you were in love and oh so heartbreak, it wasn’t shitty because you saw a future with him. It was shitty because of how goddamn embarrassing it was.

To your peers, you were a couple that made sense, and in fact people had been urging you to go out for a while. And, obviously, you had grown to like him, considering that you were in a relationship for six months - you never would have put up with him for that long if you didn’t actually like him. But the fact that he broke up with you, and not the other way around, left a sour, spiteful taste in your mouth.

So, perhaps it was that break-up that made you feel different this entire month. Or maybe it was your impending 18th birthday, which made you realize just how close you were to legal adulthood. Whatever the cause, every single aspect of your life up to this point suddenly came under your deep scrutiny. You just weren’t… happy?

That made it sound bad, but what were you enjoying right now? What got you excited every day? As you sat in the student council meeting, zoning out since the very start, you came to think that maybe you had nothing going on right now that you genuinely wanted in your life.

Hell, you weren’t even on the student council because you enjoyed it, Janet just dragged you into it back in your sophomore year. You figured she loved the sense of importance it gave her. She and everyone else in the council probably got off on how important they felt, the dictators of Hawkins High School.

You always ran in this crowd, and before you never questioned it. The popular kids, the rich kids, the successful kids. You don’t remember ever choosing these friends and acquaintances - if anything, it seemed that these peers were all a constant, as if they’d always been there from the very start. You figured it was the natural state of the world - as the daughter of one of the richest men in town, you were predestined to end up here. Not here as in the student council, surrounded by other spoiled rich kids debating the difference between turquoise and cyan. But here in an even broader sense - in a finely curated life, in all the “right” circles, on the path to either greatness or becoming the trophy wife of greatness.

Up until now, you’d never questioned it. Yes, mom and dad, you were a popular kid whose free time was fully booked between college prep, figure skating, student council, dates with a cookie-cutter boyfriend, and everything else under the sun. Yes, mom and dad, you were doing everything they all told you too because it would look great on your college applications, because that’s what you’re supposed to do, because that’s how things have always been done.

It started to dawn on you maybe a week or so into the school year just how mundane you were - you never questioned your time spent skating or on extracurriculars, you never went against the order of things as dictated by only the most popular of your peers. That’s just what was done, what was always done. But after your ex dared to break up with you, you came to realize recently that maybe all of this wasn’t what you wanted - maybe it was time to start making some choices for yourself instead of worrying what your parents told you or what your peers thought or what to do to keep your boyfriend semi-happy.

So, you started to consider what exactly it was that you wanted. And that proved to be more challenging than you anticipated, which probably would have sounded extremely pathetic if you had said it to any of the people sitting next to you.

Did you like figure skating? Of course, it was your idea after all. What you didn’t like was the pressure from your mother to train and become an Olympian, a feat that was never your intention when you took up the sport at six years old. Besides, you told her, you were way past the age for trials, you’d never get in (or, at least, that’s what you told her, because how the hell would you know whether or not there was a cut off age).

Did you like your friends? You thought so - you’d known them virtually your entire life, so you never questioned your relationship with them. But proximity didn’t necessarily go hand-in-hand with likeability. Maybe some of them you actually liked, but the rest? No, they were just around because they always had been.

Did you like your relationship before Duncan broke up with you? No, probably not. Of course, your opinion of him and that entire relationship was soured now, but even at the time, you were probably just going through the motions, doing things that couples do without any real heart in it.

So… What did you want? What did you actually like?

It was jarring to realize that your entire life had been dictated and finely tuned for you from the moment you were born, that even the things you wanted had been molded into new shapes by your parents or your peers or your teachers.

Once you realized how little of your life was in your own hands, you couldn’t get it out of your head. You always saw yourself as someone who was in control, as someone who couldn’t be told shit. And yet, you came to realize that that was far from the truth. It was as if suddenly everything about your life was something you hated. You hated your classes, you hated your friends, you hated running in the same circle as your ex, you hated all your obligations. Through the first few weeks of senior year, all you felt was frustration, disinterest, and absolute boredom with everything around you. Something had to change. And during the bullshit student council meeting, you became determined to make it happen.

So, over the course of that boring as all hell meeting, you tried to figure out what you wanted, and how you were going to get it. You set a goal for yourself, silly but helpful considering the structure you were so accustomed to: you’d set your plan in motion on your birthday. New year, new you, right?

Once you gave yourself that deadline, you then had to think about what exactly you were trying to accomplish - yes, you wanted to make some major changes, you wanted to, in a way, become a new person, but how were you going to do that?

You settled on four key things to keep in mind:

You wanted to piss off your parents big time - your dad barely acknowledged your existence and your mom coddled you, so actually upsetting them would be a feat unto itself. You had to become so awful that even your mother would stop making excuses for you.

You needed to drop your friends - the more you thought about all the people you grew up alongside, the more you realized that you weren’t particularly interested in relationships with any of them. Whether you made new friends or not wasn’t a priority, in fact you kind of liked the idea of just being left alone.

You had to figure out what you actually enjoyed - outside of skating, you had no idea what really interested you, what you would like to do with your life and your free time. You figured it was time to do some self reflection and focus on finding things that you’d actually enjoy.

And, most importantly, you had to get back at your ex. Yeah, it was stupid to be motivated by a boy, but nothing would make you happier than seeing him worked up and frustrated. Your focus wasn’t on trying to win him back or anything like that - you wanted to piss him off, to exact some kind of revenge for making you look like an idiot when he broke up with you at a party that all your friends had attended.

How you were going to accomplish these, however, was yet to be determined. But they were a damn good starting point, and they got you motivated to become an absolute nuisance to everyone around.

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The Friday following the student council meeting, you decided to first experiment with a little something, satiate a mild curiosity. To anyone else, it was probably the most mundane thing in the world, but to a high schooler who thought graduation was life or death, doing anything out of the ordinary felt nail-biting.

You were going to sit at a new lunch table.

You had just two days left until your birthday, until you’d officially set your plan in motion, so you still had a little more time to come up with something. So far, you couldn’t think of shit. You were already someone who was blunt and commanding and mean, whose thoughts and feelings were always on your face, so people were used to you being bossy and a little miserable - you couldn’t start being meaner or blunter, you just knew that wouldn’t be enough. Maybe you could start skipping class, maybe you could start flaking on friends, but somehow none of that felt like enough, like it wouldn’t make a statement. You had to really make an impression, to really set yourself up for a total ruination of your social status, you just hadn’t figured out how.

But a new lunch table was as good a starting point as any, right?

You chose a table at the far end of the lunchroom; customarily your group of friends, acquaintances, and ex sat centrally, surrounded by the jocks on one side and the academics on the other. The new table you chose was only occupied by two other people, a dorky little couple who looked at you funny when you sat as far from them as possible. In turn, you gave them an icy cold glare, prompting them to look away quickly, like you were a Medusa who could turn them to stone.

Your stupid little lunchroom plan was a bust, though. Five minutes into your peaceful lunch, your two closest friends, Amelia and Janet found you, each looking perplexed and put-off by your seat of choice. They looked around before lowering into the seats around you, their expression full of something akin to disgust, as if sitting at a different table was that offensive.

“What are we doing over here?” Amelia asked judgmentally, eyeing the couple at the opposite end of the table. Across the lunchroom, a few people (including Duncan) from your usual lunch table looked at you funny, “It’s like we’re exiled or something.”

So dramatic, you thought while staring harshly at her.

“Change of scenery.” You answered plainly, stabbing at the food in front of you. Amelia hummed in acknowledgement, but still made it quite clear that she didn’t agree with the decision.

“What, does this have something to do with Duncan?” She jabbed, receiving another nasty look from you, “So, he’s a jerk? Get over it.”

You should’ve known this idea was too simple to work. Of course they’d just follow you like the lemmings that they were, just as unable to make their own decisions as you were. Yeah, you definitely needed to try something bigger to scare them off.

Briefly, you thought that you could maybe tell them, just say point blank, “Amelia, Janet, I hate being around you and this friendship is done.” But, again, you figured that wouldn’t be good enough, that they’d laugh at your mean sense of humor even if you reiterated yourself. In this crowd, being mean was never enough to make your point, because all of you were nasty, not only to each other but to virtually everyone you met.

And despite your well-known attitude problem, you still cared about Amelia and Janet, flaws and all. These were the girls that you’d known since you were five years old, of course you worried about their feelings at least a little bit - nearly 13 years of friendship would do that to anyone. Guess you had more of a heart than you gave yourself credit for.

You definitely needed a foolproof plan to get out of this friendship, this social circle, this popular bubble that you’d always been trapped in. The friendship had to end without you saying so. You had to push them out until they finally gave up on you. Make it seem like it was their idea, that would definitely work on them.

As you schemed, Amelia and Janet chatted around you. Various acquaintances stopped by the table, all with the same question: what the hell were you guys doing sitting all the way out here? Even Duncan was amongst those that asked, trying to ignore the way you glared daggers at him. Amelia and Janet gave various responses, all of which put blame on you as if this simple little decision meant their utter ruination.

As Duncan was preparing to walk back to your usual lunch table, a commotion rose out in the hallway, the echo of rapid footfall drifting in through the doors. Multiple heads turned to face the cafeteria doors with curiosity, some people peeked out into the hall to check what the yelling was about, scurrying back to their friends to report what they’d seen. You, Amelia, Janet, and Duncan all waited silently, sharing raised brows and curious looks.

Not even a minute later, Eddie freaking Munson came crashing into the lunchroom, a look of total glee on his face as he cackled, not even remotely fazed by all the eyes on him. As he tumbled through the cafeteria doors, you jumped a little at the burst of sound. Eddie’s disruption turned everyone’s heads now, the lunchroom silent in shock and loathing as the resident outcast ran between tables, heading for the set of doors at the opposite end of the room. Your gaze was locked on the shit disturber as he blew past your table, carelessly running into Duncan in the process, but even that collision didn’t slow him down. Duncan yelled at him, but Eddie was focused on one goal, and if this were a cartoon you definitely would have seen dust kick up behind him from how quickly he was moving.

Not too far behind was Coach Miller, a look of absolute rage marring his puffy red face as he pursued Eddie. It didn’t even seem to cross his mind that he was making a fool of himself in front of the entire student body - his only focus was stopping the offender of whatever shenanigans currently pissed him off.

Your gaze turned back to the excited Eddie, an undeniable curiosity rising in you - what the hell did he do to piss off Coach Miller this bad? Sure, the coach was always pretty damn temperamental, but you couldn’t recall ever seeing him look quite this upset before.

Eddie paused at the cafeteria doors to turn and pull a mocking face at the coach before darting from the room, as if nothing in the world could touch him and he was unstoppable.

As Coach Miller disappeared after Eddie and students returned to their usual conversations, albeit with an air of awkwardness, you stared at the cafeteria doors thoughtfully.

That’s when an idea began to form.

You needed to take a page out of Eddie Munson’s book. If anyone in this school knew how to be a thorn in everyone’s side, it was him. So, you spent the remainder of your lunch brainstorming, trying to figure out how to channel even a sliver of Eddie’s energy; you only chimed into the conversation when someone spoke to you directly.

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In the middle of fifth period, you still weren’t quite sure what your game plan was, but you at least had a vague starting point. While your history teacher rambled on about some significant European war that you couldn’t begin to care about, you tapped your pencil as you thought about Eddie Munson (a sentence that very nearly grossed you out).

You’ve known about him since your freshman year - at the time, he was a year ahead of you, but since then he’d been held back. People always sneered when talking about him, as if Eddie was the most offensive thing they’d ever encountered, as if he was some kind of plague. He went against all social norms you’d learned up to that point, he was contradictory to everything you’d ever been taught about social conduct and likeability - he wore ratty clothes, listened to scary music, acted out in the most theatrical ways possible, and never seemed to give a shit what anyone thought.

You had never spoken to Eddie personally. Through the years you’d had a few classes together, including your math class this year, so you’ve witnessed some of his antics. But really, you knew nothing about the guy. Just the things that everyone else told you, and those things were nothing good. Whether or not Eddie was as bad as people said didn’t matter to you. His reputation was shit, and in this instance that’s exactly what you needed.

So, how were you going to ruin your senior year with the help of Eddie Munson? Well, at the very least, maybe you first had to have a conversation with him. It would be pretty stupid to walk up to him and go “hey, Munson, I know everyone here hates you, how about we chat and you make them hate me, too!”

Maybe you needed to find a way to hang out with him? Pretend to be friends long enough that the rest of the student body begins to ostracize you? With a little amused huff, an even worse thought crossed you: maybe you needed to pretend you were interested in Eddie Munson for a while, that was sure to piss just about everyone off. Especially Duncan.

But then the idea gave you pause.

You could not pretend to flirt with, or even date, Eddie fucking Munson. No chance in hell that would work. No way he would go for it, and no way you’d be able to tolerate him long enough to convince anyone that you were even remotely into him.

But… maybe?

Shit, what a stupid idea.

Or maybe it was a brilliant one.

You mulled it over a few minutes longer - if you were going to, somehow, convince Eddie Munson to pretend to date you, you needed to offer him something in exchange, that was obvious. You needed to give him a good reason to help you out, or this plan was never going to work. Its chances of success already seemed slim to none.

You had one idea, though you weren’t entirely certain if he’d go for it.

Your Uncle Tom was a cop, had been with the force your entire life - and you’d bet he’s probably had at least one run-in with Eddie. Maybe you’d tell Eddie that you could get cops to leave him alone, to stop watching him wearily whenever they were around. You couldn’t promise him too much, of course, but you knew at the very least that you could get your uncle to leave him alone. Or you could even take the fall here and there for whatever trouble Eddie inevitably lands himself in - what cop was stupid enough to arrest the niece of a cop and the daughter of a man who owned half of Hawkins?

It wasn’t foolproof, and you knew there were flaws to be found, but it just might work.

So, with your mind made up, you rip a scrap of paper from your notebook and scribble out a quick message:

Let’s make a deal. Sunday. You pick the time and place. Locker #436

You’d hoped that Eddie would be smart enough to realize that you wanted him to write you back, to drop his own stupid note in your locker so you could meet up and tell him your stupid, crazy idea. God, this better work.

You swiftly raise your hand in the air, giving a small impatient wave when your teacher didn’t acknowledge you right away, instead trying to focus on his lecture.

He rolled his eyes when he spotted your hand in the air, pointing at you and saying in an annoyed monotone, “What’s so important that you’re interrupting?”

Without any hesitation, you state bluntly, “Lady troubles.”

The teacher looks shocked by how plainly you stated it. But because it was you that said it and not someone else, your peers didn’t dare laugh, although a couple boys seemed to choke in surprise or amusement.

“Go, go…” Your teacher waved you off before continuing his lecture, wanting to forget the small interaction entirely.

You exited the room and roamed the halls confidently. Eddie’s locker wasn’t hard to miss - he was one of the students that decorated the metal with crude permanent marker sketches, and the school was too cheap to care about replacing or painting over it. As you approached Eddie’s locker, you checked around to make sure no one spotted you; it wasn’t as if you were committing a crime, but you didn’t need anyone wondering what you were up to in case this plan didn’t work.

So, you slipped the note into his locker, returned to class, and waited impatiently for the final bell of the day to ring, hoping that Eddie would actually stop by his locker and not just leave school without ever seeing your note.

When the end of the day came, it took everything in your power not to rush back to your own locker - just in case, you didn’t want him spotting you there. Why all the secrecy, you sure as hell didn’t know, but you nonetheless continued it.

So, you waited, stopping into the bathroom to check your makeup, walking with Amelia and Janet as they stopped at their own lockers. As the three of you exited the building and walked into the parking lot, you pretended to remember something, telling them that you needed to run back inside. You said your quick goodbyes and went back to wandering the halls, finally opening up your own locker.

It was stupid that your heart leapt when you saw a crudely torn piece of paper resting on top of some of your belongings.

You opened it quickly, eagerly reading the metalhead’s response:

Picnic table behind the football field, 4.

God, what were you getting yourself into.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x you #stranger things #em #dos and donts

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charcoaldustonmyfingers · 4 months

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Biblically accurate Donatello! No shade to my boy, but Soft-shell turtles are so weird looking omg. My roommate saw that one episode of Amazing World of Gumball and has since decided they are all demon possessed, but considering it’s Donnie I guess that checks out

Spiny soft-shells actually come in several subspecies, several of which are quite region specific and endangered. They’re pretty funky, having bendy shells apart from the central bony shell plate, with super weird segmented plastral bones, long noses, and lips that cover their beaks. The reason for those can probably be attested to the fact that they are ambush predators, sitting beneath the mud in ponds and slurping up fish like a vacuum when they come close to their hiding spot. They don’t really have scutes, the big scales found on turtle shells and alligator backs, or scales in general I don’t think. (I don’t have a herpetology degree so this is all from surface level googling, feel free to correct!)

It’s hard to figure out how Donnie’s battle-shell would fit around the very flat bottom half of his true shell, as that’s the most bendy part. Additionally, he would probably need extra protection on his front, as the plastron ends higher up on soft-shells and isn’t one solid bone, nor does it have scutes to protect him. Not to mention the rest of him also not really having scales?

With the shape of turtle heads being quite flat, it would probably be hard to make masks that fit. They’d have to wear something more akin to a racing horse maybe? Donnie would probably draw his eyebrows anyway. Gotta have an impressive brow to raise when you gotta judge your brothers for being dum-dums, after all.

Softshells also have extremely long necks, so he can look down at people to judge them no matter how tall (except Raph lol)

[Raphael] [Leonardo] [Michelangelo] [Extended Family]

#rottmnt donnie #rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise donnie #rise of the tmnt #biblically accurate turtles #pancake lookin mf

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dumbseee · 10 months

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noticed pt2.

f1 au/fic: having her celebrity crush as her boyfriend was something y/n didn’t expect to happen, which she also didn’t expect is the hate she would’ve receive.

lando norris x reader.

fc: bruna marquezine.

part 1.

note: i wasn’t planning on doing a part 2 but you guys asked so you shall receive :) (i wrote that very quickly so it’s not that good i’m so sorry)

liked by landonorris, francisca.cgomes, pierregasly and 230 997 others.

y/n: lil photo dump because i’m living my best life with my loved ones <3 have a nice week guys!

landonorris: pretty girl <3

liked by y/n.

francisca.cgomes: had the best time with you baby

yourfriend: you’re shining girl

fan1: who tf is y/n? why is she even so popular?

fan2. @.fan1 bc she’s fucking lando and people have an obsession with wags

fan3: ew such a whore

fan4: why is she always half naked?

fan5: i’d be so embarrassed if i were lando bc wtf is she wearing?

fan6: lando RUN

fan7: y’all see a pretty woman dating y’all favourite driver and decide to hate her for no reason

fan8: y/n get behind me

you couldn’t stop crying, you didn’t know what you did to deserve that. you deactivated all your socials so you won’t receive any messages from people with bad intentions, and turned off your phone that kept buzzing with notifications from friends and family. you tried to call lando, to make sure he knew that this was bullshit and that never would you even think about cheating on him. you did go to neymar’s party but only as your friend’s plus one. you talked with the footballer but for literally five minutes. the girl in the picture wasn’t you and you prayed that lando knew that. but he wasn’t answering his phone and that actually made you panic even more. your whole body was shaking, you were having a panic attack and you didn’t know how to calm it since you never had one before.

this situation was horrible for you, you didn’t even know how to fix it, of course it was all a lie but would the internet believe you? deactivating all your socials could be seen as suspicious by fans. they hated you anyway so whatever excuse you’d come up with, they’d never believe you. would lando even believe you? that thought made you sob even more, you struggled to breath and fell on the ground, resting your head on your knees. you could hear your heart beats going way too fast and you prayed for someone to help you because you were going to die from that damn panic attack.

"y/n! hey y/n!" you heard a voice, but it was faint, as if someone was calling you from very far away. "y/n, please baby! breath!" lando. it was lando’s voice. you opened your eyes and saw your boyfriend, shaking you to make you come to your senses, his eyes were glossy and he looked worried, when he saw you open your eyes and look at him he sighed softly and smiled at you. "welcome back, baby." he kissed your forehead before putting your hand on his own heart while he did the same to yours. "breath for me. we’ll do it together, okay?" you nodded slowly and started to follow his breaths. "one. two. three. yeah, you’re doing amazing my love." he smiled again and rested his forehead against yours, closing his eyes. "you scared the shit out of me." he whispered, still against your forehead. "i am so sorry, lando, i swear it’s not-" he shushed you and wrapped his arms around you, giving you a long and soothing embrace. you felt silent tears roll down your cheeks.

"don’t say a word, i already know." he says, he grabbed your face in his hands and kissed your tears away. "those pretty eyes can’t be drowning in tears, love." he added. "i trust you y/n. i love and trust you with my life, i know that you’d never do such a thing." he finished by kissing your lips. "then why did you ignore my calls?" you asked. "because i needed to get back home asap to confort you." he smiled and you swore that your heart exploded.

that was the moment where you realised how deeply in love you were with lando. he was so perfect with you, always taking care of you and putting you first. you sometimes wondered if you deserved that kind of love.

"we’re going to watch your favorite tv show, order some food and take a bath later. today is y/n self care day. and don’t think about that rumour, i’m going to take care of that." he kissed the top of your head and helped you get up from the ground.

liked by y/n, carlossainz55, danielricciardo and 1 790 007 others.

landonorris: i’m going to say this once and for all: y/n l/n is the sweetest most loving and respectful person i’ve ever met in my entire existence. she’s the light that keeps shining during my darkest days, she’s the presence i crave after a long day away from her. y/n has been the victim of disgusting rumours and death threats, i’ll be taking action against every single ones of you who even just commented one single bad emoji under her posts, i’ll come for you. you made her cry, i think it’s fair enough that i make you pay back for every single tear that she shed because of people like you.

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slut4thebroken · 2 months

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Stress Relief

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Cillian Murphy x reader

Summary | Holidays with your family are hard, but Cillian makes it a little more bearable.

Warnings | Smut, 18+, sexual content, large age gap (unspecified), fluffy ish smut, oral (kind of), praise, a lil degradation, kissing, fingering, I need him to talk me through it 😭

Words | 3.6 k

Notes | Pretend I posted this 2 months ago💀🤫 Also wow- first /not/ dark smut in a while I think skdhdk

Ao3 link | <3

Masterlist

With a heavy sigh, you flopped down onto the bed as he looked through his luggage.

“Just a few more days.” You said through a breath.

“Let’s get you changed, yeah?” You grunted out an acknowledgement, keeping your eyes closed and not moving. You heard him chuckle, then your shoes were being taken off. “I can’t tell if I make things better or worse by being here.”

“Better. Definitely better.” You sighed and he unbuttoned your pants before pulling them down your legs.

“I’m not sure they like me very much though.” He was saying it like a joke, but you knew he didn’t like the fact that most of your family disapproved.

“I don’t care.” You muttered. When he pulled your torso to slip your sweater off, you whined in displeasure. He dressed you in your sleep shirt, then lifted you to carry you over to your side of the bed and lay you back down. If your family saw this, they’d probably understand. But he’s always been a perfect gentleman— polite, kind, respectful. You didn’t get why his age overshadowed all of that. When your eyes fluttered open, you turned your head to the side to watch him change into his pajamas, then he was pulling the covers back and joining you.

“Thank you for being here.” You said softly, turning on your side to face him. He gave you a warm smile and brushed your hair away from your face.

“I just hate seeing how stressed you get.” He murmured, gaze trailing all over your face.

“You help a lot. More than you know.” You returned the smile and placed a hand on his arm. He stared at you for a moment, then reached behind himself to turn off the lamp.

“C’mere.” He said quietly, pulling you into him. He placed a gentle kiss on your head and you buried your blushing face in his chest, enjoying the feeling of his arms wrapped around you. After a while, he started trailing one hand up and down your arm, relaxing you even more. That is… until his hand started straying to your hip.

“Not here.” You whispered. It took every ounce of self restraint you had to gently bat his hand away, but he was undeterred.

“You can be quiet.” His hand was gripping your hip now, teasing the fabric of your underwear.

“Cillian, you can literally hear everything in this house.” As if to emphasize your point, you heard a cough come from one of the rooms.

“Then don’t make any noise, baby.” He pushed you onto your back and started kissing the side of your neck as his warm hand rubbed your stomach, beneath the shirt. You let out a pleased sigh and tilted your head to give him more room, making him chuckle quietly. He suddenly moved his hand down, beneath your underwear, and swiped his fingers through your slit.

“Christ.” He whispered, making you whine from embarrassment, but he quickly shushed you, reminding you to be quiet.

“Cillian.” You said through a breath. You brought a hand up to grip his bicep, but you didn’t try to pull him away. His fingers rubbed slow circles over your clit and he gently nipped at your neck. You wanted nothing more than for him to suck the skin into his mouth, mark you as his… but you knew that would only make things worse between him and your family. When you whined quietly, he seemed to pick up on what you were thinking because he pushed your shirt up your body to kiss your chest, leaving a few marks.

His free hand suddenly covering your mouth almost made you moan, but his fingers slipping inside was what actually made the sound come out. He pressed down harder, trying to muffle your sounds even more. You breathed heavily through your nose as he slowly curled his fingers inside you. Scrunching your brows, you stared at him with wide eyes and shook your head beneath his hand.

“Let me be your stress relief, baby.” He whispered, starting to move his fingers a little faster now. You whimpered quietly, his words and actions making you melt.

Your hips were squirming against his hand now, trying to get more from what he was giving you. He leaned back down and softly kissed your jaw, then worked his way down your neck, stopping just below your ear.

“Can you be quiet?” He whispered, breath fanning your ear, and you nodded even though you didn’t believe it. The second he removed his hand, his face was going back into your chest, this time paying attention to your breasts. Your breath caught in your throat and you brought your hands up to his hair when he sucked your nipple into his mouth.

“Cillian..” You whispered, hips grinding against his hand.

“Shh, baby. No sounds.” He said softly, barely pulling away enough to speak. Once he deemed your nipple hard enough, he moved to the other one to give it the same treatment. “Good girl.” That made you whine and pull harder on his hair. You bit your lip until it hurt, trying to keep the sounds in. But when his fingers sped up and the heel of his hand started stimulating your clit, you knew you couldn’t do it.

“I can’t— I can’t.. fuck.” You whispered, squeezing your eyes shut and putting all of your focus into staying silent.

“You can.” He kissed up your chest and neck until he reached your face. “Let me make you feel good, baby.” You opened your eyes when you felt his breath fanning your lips.

“This door doesn’t even lock.” You protested weakly.

“All the more reason to stay quiet.” Before you could say anything else, he leaned down and kissed softly. His fingers slowed into a gentle curling motion, not trying to bring you closer to the edge yet. When you snaked a hand down his stomach, he broke the kiss and gently pulled your hand away. “This is just about you, love.” He explained, making you frown.

“But,”

“None of that.” He scolded softly. “Anything I do with my cock, you won’t be able to stay quiet for.” Even though you knew he was right, you still weren’t happy about it. “Don’t be a brat.” He warned when he saw your expression.

“m’not.” You muttered, still pouting.

“Should I stop? Leave you like this and go to bed?” You looked away from him, still wanting to argue, but not wanting to be denied. “Thought so. Now be a good little girl, lay there and take my fingers,” his eyes darkened as he leaned closer to you, “and keep your fucking mouth shut.” He hissed, using his hard dom voice. You stared at him with wide eyes, chest heaving as you squirmed, getting needier just from a few words.

“Do you understand?” You nodded quickly and he raised his brows.

“Y-yes.” You corrected yourself. His fingers picked back up almost immediately and your hand shot up to cover your mouth, muffling the moan that slipped out. He didn’t bother building back up to the pace, he just went from zero to one hundred.

You breathed heavily through your nose, scrunching your brows together in concentration. His lips were slightly parted as he stared down at you with half lidded eyes, clearly affected by this situation as well.

When he hit that particularly good spot inside of you, your eyes widened even more and you shook your head with a quiet whimper, warning him. There’s no way you’ll be able to stay quiet. His fingers were moving almost violently and you sobbed out a moan, making them stop instantly. You whined in response and he used his free hand to grab your neck, squeezing the sides tightly.

“What did I say?” He hissed and you removed your hand from your mouth finally.

“I’m sorry— I’m sorry. I’m trying…” You whispered through a breath. “Please.” When you pouted and bucked your hips, his expression turned into one of amusement.

“Fine.” He resumed the relentless pace, keeping his hand on your neck. “You want to moan like a slut for the whole house to hear? That’s fine by me.” You faltered because, no… that’s not what you wanted. “Give them a show, baby. Make sure they all know how good I make you feel— how easy it is to turn you into a brainless little whore, unable to keep your fucking mouth shut.” He hissed, making you even needier.

“Cillian..” You whined.

“Yes, love?” He asked innocently.

“I’m trying.” You whimpered, feeling tears of humiliation and desperation stinging your eyes.

“I know, baby.” He cooed mockingly. “I know you are.” It almost seemed like he wanted you to be loud with the way he started grinding his palm against your clit and moving his fingers faster. Wet noises were just barely audible beneath the blankets but you knew he heard it too when he let out a breathy laugh. “Such a needy fucking pussy.” He whispered with a small smirk. “You’re dripping down my hand too.”

“Stop teasing me.” You whined with a pout.

“I’m sorry, baby. I can’t help it.” He chuckled warmly.

“You’re being mean!” Under normal circumstances, this would’ve been when you raised your voice at him.

“Fingering my girlfriend is mean?”

“Stop it!” You whined, louder this time. Your frown deepened, but it was hard to keep the expression with his fingers still curling against your walls.

“Enough.” He growled, his grip on your neck tightening even more as his fingers inside you came to a stop. “Tell me the safe word.” He ordered, tone slightly softer, but still stern. You bit your lip and averted your gaze, making him squeeze your neck harder until you looked at him again.

“…Red.” You muttered.

“That’s right. The only time I want you to open your fucking mouth is to say that. One more word and I’ll shove my cock so deep down your throat you won’t even be able to make any sounds.” He warned. He’s big enough where even when you deepthroat, you can’t go all the way down. So you took the threat to heart. “Do you understand?”

“Yes.” You whispered, then quickly closed your mouth. He didn’t bother replying before slowly moving his fingers again, getting you used to the feeling. You tried to take deep breaths through your nose to stay calm and collected, but you were still looking at Cillian, his face lit up by the moonlight.

His gaze flickered between your eyes and your mouth and you instantly recognized the facial expression he had— The hunger and heat in his eyes as he prepared to ravish you. Normally that look was followed shortly after by him mounting you as he kissed you, swallowing your moans and pushing his cock inside, only stopping when he was buried all the way in. Judging by his heavy breathing and the way his cheeks tensed as he clenched his jaw, you figured he was thinking the same thing.

You almost moaned his name, but remembered just before the word could come out. So you pleaded with him silently by furrowing your brows and looking up at him with wide eyes. He cursed under his breath and closed his eyes for a moment as he composed himself.

When he suddenly got up on his knees and settled between your open legs, you felt a flicker of hope that you’d get what you wanted. He leaned down to kiss you, but made no move to take out his fingers or push down his pants. It took everything in you to not whine.

He started kissing over your jaw and down your neck to your chest. When his lips latched on to your nipple, you quickly covered your mouth to hold in the sounds begging to escape. He rolled the other one between his fingers gently and your free hand went to his hair, tugging on it and pulling him impossibly closer. He let out a low groan from the slight pain on his scalp, the sound adding to your arousal.

“You’re such a good girl, aren’t you?” He murmured, lifting his head to look at you as his hand started rubbing up and down your side. His fingers picked up, going faster and harder, bringing you closer to the edge. “My perfect little girl.” He whispered, leaning back over you and cupping your cheek.

He suddenly kissed you again, his lips moving passionately against yours, claiming you in whatever way he could. While you were distracted with the kiss, he forced a third finger inside, making you release a startled moan that was muffled by his lips. Once you quieted down again, he reluctantly pulled back.

“Can you come for me, baby?” He rasped, almost sounding desperate for it. When you nodded quickly, he gave you a warm smile. “Good girl… Can you be quiet while you do?” You looked away sheepishly, not sure if you should be honest or tell him what he wants to hear. You looked at him again and nodded slowly, your face almost looking guilty while you answered him. He chuckled quietly and gave you another kiss, this one much quicker. “That’s my girl.” He whispered proudly, making you blush and buck your hips into his hand.

His fingers suddenly sped up, curling against your walls as his hand pressed firmly against your clit. Your blush darkened when he continued staring down at you, his eyes half-lidded with arousal. You couldn’t wait to finally go home so he could actually fuck you. It’s barely been a week and you’re already going crazy without having his cock inside you.

Maybe you can convince him to take you to the “store” or something tomorrow and then park somewhere secluded and fuck in the car. But also the build up of so many days without it will make for some pretty fucking good sex when you get home… You couldn’t help but think about what he’d do— how many times he’d make you come, how sore and bruised your body would get, how much he’d fill you up, breed you until he didn’t have any come left to give you.

“Fuck,” You choked out, clinging to his shoulders as the knot of arousal in your stomach tightened considerable. “I- I’m…” You whispered, unable to say anything else. His hand suddenly covered your mouth again, making you moan quietly.

“Come for me, baby. Let me make you feel good.” He begged, voice incredibly raspy now.

Your orgasm finally crashed over you and you clenched your jaw, trying to stifle your sounds. His fingers never faltered as your walls clamped down on them tight enough to almost force them out. “Good girl… I’m so proud of you, baby.” He cooed, making you whine and arch up into him as you rode it out to the very end. When you finally sagged back into the bed and started panting, he released your mouth and slowly pulled his fingers out. You watched as he instinctively lifted them toward his mouth, then suddenly stopped, staring at them for a moment. Cursing under his breath, he reached over to the nightstand and grabbed a tissue to clean them off. When he looked at you again and saw your confused expression, he explained.

“If I taste you, I won’t be able to stop myself from eating you out and you're even louder during that.” You blushed, but laughed quietly because he was right. Finally, he laid down next to you and when you got up to move to the foot of the bed, he pulled you back with a gentle hand on your wrist.

“I’m okay, baby.” He said softly, but his voice was still thick with arousal. “Tonight was just about you.” He kissed the top of your head and you couldn’t help but blush.

“But…” You can literally see his hard on from beneath the covers. And also your mouth is already watering at just the thought of tasting and feeling him. “I want it.” You pouted, like a child who was denied a treat.

“Not tonight, love. You’ll be too loud and it’s too messy.” You frowned, but didn’t protest because you were already coming up with a plan in your head.

“Fine. We’ll just sleep then.” You grabbed his wrist and pulled as you turned onto your side, facing away from him. He cuddled you from behind, being careful to keep his hips far away from yours. After maybe a minute, you subtly shifted around, pushing your ass back. You didn’t reach his bulge before he grabbed your hip hard to hold you still.

“Stop.” He warned, breath fanning your neck, making you shiver.

“I’m just trying to get comfortable.” You said innocently, making him scoff.

“No, you’re being a brat.”

“I thought tonight was about me and what I want. Well this is what I want.” You reached behind yourself and palmed his bulge before he could stop you. He grunted in surprise, then his grip on your body got infinitely tighter.

“Fuck— fuck. Fine.” He muttered, turning to lay on his back. You smirked and moved down the bed until you were laying between his legs. Without wasting any time, you freed his cock and stroked him slowly, making him sigh quietly.

“In your mouth.” He ordered and you obeyed eagerly. When you started going up and down, keeping your hand at the base, he stopped you. “No. I’m going to fuck my fist and you’re going to keep your mouth on it until I come. Understand?” As soon as you realized that you weren’t going to be actively participating, you pouted and looked at him with puppy dog eyes. “It's either this or I go jerk off in the bathroom and finish in the toilet instead.” You whined loudly and his hand shot out to grab your hair and pull roughly. “Quiet.” He hissed.

“Cillian..” You whined again, quieter this time. When all he did was stare at you, you frowned and removed your hand, letting his replace it. Once his hand was on his cock, you took the tip in your mouth and closed your lips around it with a quiet whine.

“Good girl.” You whimpered, then started suckling on it, getting needier when you could taste some precum. For a while he just stroked his cock, enjoying the feeling of your mouth on him. But you needed more.

“You’re not close yet, right?”

“No.” He said through a breath. You immediately dove down and started kissing and licking his balls, forcing a choked moan out of him. You chuckled quietly and shushed him, but kept going. When you sucked one into your mouth, his hips bucked and he threw his head back, biting his lip to stifle any sounds. The sight had you squeezing your thighs together, but you forced your focus back onto the task at hand.

“Shit, baby…” He whispered. Other than his heavy breathing, the only other sound that filled the room was your mouth, licking and sucking as saliva started building up. If you were at home, the sounds would’ve been far more obscene and spit would’ve been dripping down your chin by now, but you tried to keep things quiet and mess free.

“Back on my cock.” He rushed out, stroking himself faster. You leaned up and wrapped your lips around him again, suckling on the head and swirling your tongue around it. One of your hands moved to gently play with his balls, giving him even more stimulation.

“Christ… Don’t stop, baby. Please don’t stop.” He whispered, jerking himself impossibly faster. You hollowed your cheeks and sucked him down a little more. Instead of reprimanding you, he cursed under his breath and reached his free hand out toward you. “Hold my hand.” He begged. “I won’t be able to stop myself from pushing you down.” Even though your whole body was craving that, you knew it would be too loud, so you gave him your free hand and he squeezed it tight.

He didn’t give you any warning before his abs contracted as his whole body tensed up, then the first shot of come hit the back of your mouth. You let out a surprised sound and his grip on your hand got even tighter. He fisted his cock rapidly, giving you every last drop as his lips parted in a silent moan and his brows scrunched together from the pleasure.

Even though this seemed like one of the more tame ways you’ve given oral, it still felt dirtier than most. He wasn’t fucking your mouth or your throat, using you to get himself off. He was getting himself off and just using you as a cumdump. He wasn’t using you for pleasure, he was using you the same way he would a toilet, had he gone to the bathroom to jerk off. The thought had you moaning loudly before you could hold it in.

When his body finally relaxed and his hand slowed to a stop, you pulled off and opened your mouth, showing him how well you’d done your job. His cock twitched and you smiled even though your mouth was still open, making him curse under his breath. You finally closed your mouth and swallowed all of it, then opened it again and stuck your tongue out for him to see.

“Get up here.” He said almost breathlessly. With his hand still holding yours, he used it to pull you up until you were laying on your stomach, half on the bed and half on him. “You’re a damn tease, you know that?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” You said innocently, with a small smirk.

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#cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy smut #cillian x reader #cillian murphy

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angelltheninth · 9 months

Text

A Needed Confidence Boost

Pairing: Clark Kent x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, co-worker relationship, praise kink, insecurity, fingering, size kink, desk sex, shy!Reader

Ao3

Word count: 1.6k

A/N: Clark commission for @prettysourabbie,

“Miss, I hate to tell you this, but if you can’t deliver on a good story, or even run errands right I don’t really have much need for you as an intern or a future reporter.” Perry White leaned back in his chair, looking at you dismissively, making you feel small under his scrutiny and cold glare. It might be just you but you felt like the temperature in his office dropped, or maybe it was just your fear of losing your new job that had you shaking.

The hand on your back was a sudden source of warmth, “Come on mister White, its not her fault the bad guys were out cold. There’s not a single reporter in the city who got the scoop on them. And probably won’t for a little while since they’re being jailed right about now. She did nothing wrong.” Clark stepped up beside you, his large frame would be the perfect shield from this embarrassment.

“I-I’m s-sorry. I’ll do better. P-Promise.” You honestly felt like crying. This was supposed to be your big break, instead you ran all over this city, dragged Clark with you, lost him half-way there, and still had nothing to show for it.

Mister White looked from you to Clark and with a heavy sigh waived you away, “One more chance. Stick with Clark, he’s been though this and now he’s one of our best reporters.”

“Y-Yes sir. Thank you!” You weren’t out of the woods yet but just stepping out of that office and still having your job felt like an achievement, “Sorry for getting you into trouble Clark.”

But Clark’s eyes held no trace of anger or annoyance towards you. Its strange to feel such warmth form eyes as blue as his, yet every time he looked at you there was a heat spreading through your body. “No problem. He was right, I’ve been though this. Meet me here tomorrow and I promise we’ll find something juicy.” You looked up at him, eyes hopeful but a tiny bit skeptical, how was he gonna just... find a story? “Trust me, I can feel it.” His large hand squeezed around yours. Were his hands always so big? Clark noticed what he did too, quickly pulling away and loosening the collar of his vest, “Tomorrow morning then?”

The slightly higher tone of his voice made your heart skip a beat. Right as it did Clark’s eyebrows rose up, almost as if he heard the elevated heartbeat. “Right. Tomorrow. See you, uh C-Clark.” You turned before he saw how hot your face got because in your head this sounded a lot like a date. A work date? Is there such a thing? Did Clark see you as more then a co-worker? Those questions kept you up almost the entire night, your alarm startling you from your bed and sending you running to the office room.

Or what was kind of an office room to Clark and his team.

It wasn’t as run down or cluttered as it was when they started but it wasn’t the best room either. They’d all been offered better but they always refused, citing that this room meant a lot to them. And so Clark, Lois and Jimmy claimed this office for as long as they liked.

You slammed the door open a bit too loudly in your haste to make it there. It must have been very loud cause it made Clark jump and cringe as he covered his ears, “Oh! Sorry. That was too loud.” You eased the door closed behind you and set your bag on what was actually Clark’s chair but he always let you use it when you were at his team’s office.

“No harm done, I have sensitive hearing so loud noises can be an issue, not your fault, I learned to live with it.” Clark chuckled, handing you an envelope, “Got something you might want to check out. I think you’d do good with this one.”

His smile exuded confidence so you were at least curious. “Clark... is this...” You looked up at him, then back at the apparent scoop he offered you, “C-Clark. This is Lena Luthor. Why would you give me this? I-I-I can’t go talk to her! I can’t even talk to criminals that Superman fights!”

Lena Luthor was the sister of Lex Luthor, current head of Lexcorp, and very much in the public eye right now due to a new tech she’s been looking into. No one’s managed to get an interview with her yet. Not even Clark and Lois, or Cat Grant.

“Well... she will be in Metropolis today and tomorrow. If you get a single word from her about her upcoming project I guarantee Perry will give you the job. I know she doesn’t talk to many reporters but look at you, she can’t say no to your cute face.” This time he didn’t just stop there, rounded the desk and walked up behind you, pointing with his finger, “She’ll be at this lecture in about an hour. You’ve got this. I know you think you don’t have what it takes but I read your reports and they’re amazing.” Once again your heartbeat speed up at his warm, kind words, but also from the close proximity of his body to yours. “You just need help with being more vocal.”

“A-And how do I do that?” You didn’t dare to look up at him, he was already slouching, his breath feeling both hot a cold against your ear. When his mouth opened to speak it startled you, to hear him so close. You back up against his frame, his hands catching you and, with best gentle efforts, pushing you back forward. How is he so strong to push you entirely against the desk, your breasts against the papers, your ass accidentally brushing against his crotch. “Fuck me.” You whisper, very much to yourself and not meant for his keen ears. “You’re really strong.”

“Huh? What was that?” Clark leaned over you rather then backed away, “Did you just say you wanted me to fuck you?” It was so unusual for Clark to tease you, it took your brain a bit to reboot and catch up. “I wasn’t referring to that kind of vocal.”

“I d-didn’t mean it like that. Come on Clark, let me up.” You couldn’t budge him off, it was all too easy for him to hold you down with one hand pressed against your lower back.

You risked a glance at him, his cheeks were as pink as one of his favorite shirts, his frame bulging with every breath. He was flustered too! So how could he sound so calm? “I think you should try it again. Tell me what you want.” He wasn’t forceful by any means, he kept his eyes soft, his voice low, his hand massaging your thigh under your skirt. When did you open your legs? When did it get so hot in here? “Speak up. Clearly, or I stop.”

That was the most threatening thing he said thus far. This was beyond embarrassing, “What if someone comes?”

“Isn’t that the point?” Clark’s large hand cupped between your legs, two fingers bending in a scratching motion over your wet panties.

“N-Not f-funny Clark.” You moaned, the noise echoing around the small office.

“Funny to me. Plus, I have sensitive hearing remember? I’ll hear them. Now, sweetheart, tell me what you want. Be clear, be loud, be confident. I know you can do it.” His words stoked the fire inside you, your head swimming with every dirty thought you’ve had about him and never had the confidence to say. His hands on around your ankles, pushing your legs up, your eyes locked on his huge, thick cock as it enters you and splits you open with its girth, his muscles flexing, sweaty and glistening as the echoes of naked flesh slapping fill your bedroom. “All of that? I see. I can’t do it to you here but I hope this will satisfy you enough.”

You felt two thick fingers moving your panties to the side and plunging into your heat, your pussy clamping around his thick digits, “I didn’t mean to say all that.”

“But you did. So beautifully too.” His fingers curled upwards, pushing against your g-spot, “My fingers might snap in half if you keep clenching so hard. Are you close? Tell me.”

“So close. Feels... full. And with just your fingers. Your cock would split me in two.” It would hurt to take him, you’re sure your pussy would have a hard time with it. “I w-want... your cock Clark.” You confessed in between gasps and whimpers and the wet, lewd, dirty sounds of Clark’s palm slapping against your thighs.

“I can tell. A girl like you need something thicker to make her happy.” You waited for the sound of a zipper, instead it was the sound of your pussy squelching and stretching around a third finger, “I can hear someone. You better finish if you want an orgasm. I know you can finish on command. Squeeze my fingers, show me how you’re gonna milk me dry.”

“Clark!” You called his name once before slapping your hand over your mouth, remembering that he said there was someone on their way here. You let him drag your orgasm out one stroke at a time, his fingers sticky with your juices, dripping down all the way to his wrist.

He pulled them out carefully, setting your panties and your skirt back into place and wiping his fingers on his pants, right over the outline of his cock. “How are your pants not bursting?” Even covered you could tell he was fucking huge.

Clark laughed a little nervously, “I admit I have a hard time shopping for underwear and condoms.” Oh, so he was just humble bragging now, lovely. “You did very well once you got into it. If you can do this with me you can definitely talk to miss Luthor.” Fuck, that’s right. You had to go interview Lena Luthor!

#clark kent x reader #clark kent imagine #clark kent smut #clark kent fanfiction #superman x reader #superman imagine #superman smut #superman fanfiction #clark kent x female reader #superman x female reader #dc comics x reader #dc comics imagine #dc comics smut #dc comics fanfiction #dc comics x female reader #maws x reader #x female reader #smut

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