#i'm dealing with something far more aggravating

[pedge-page]

Joel Dealing with Preggo Wife # 8- Drama Queen

Joel Miller x F!Reader

Can be read with others in series or alone

Warnings: allusions to sex, mostly fluff and comedy

- - - -

Its been a pretty quiet evening, and with you home, thats saying something. Joel's minding his business watching Tv when you come plopping down next to him on the couch. He doesn't acknowledge you.

So you scoot over and sigh heavily. Still No reaction from the male.

You feint a yawn and snuggle your head on his shoulder. He smiles a little, but doesn't look at you. You rub affectionately like a kitten.

Nothing.

Take the hint, you stupid hunk.

Your pretty manicured hand creeps on his thigh, stroking up and down senually with delicate fingertips.

He knows where this is going, but he won't entertain you. He coughs a little, bored, and continues scrolling channels. Wants to see how far you'll go to get what you want.

As if on cue, you persist. Wrapping your arm over his broad shoulders, hitching your knee awkwardly on his thigh despite the baby in your belly squirming at the uncomfortable angle. You playfully boop his nose, giggling like a flirt. He purses his lips, but nothing else.

You stare at his profile, that unique Joel Miller look of concentration. Handsome and stoic—that little shithead.

You're teasingly rubbing your fingers through his scruff, twisting gently as a massage.

You bring your lips and kiss him kindly on the cheek. Something sweet. Innocent. Then again, but a little longer. Then some more, peppered down his jaw, along his pulse. Heated and wetter. Growing more needy and nipping his ear, making little happy moans as your hand continues to wander over his legs, tip toeing to his crotch.

Joel sighs, finally looking at you. "There a reason you're trying to get me turned on, ma'am?"

"Mmm," you hum, biting your lip and staring his plump ones. You crawl closer, breasts smashed against his bicep as you lick your lips, tongue peaking out with lusty eyes trying to put him under your best charm. Yesyesyes give it to me, Fucker!

"I want a Big—" you kiss his nose "—Messy—" teeth nip at his lower lip "—Hot—" you peck him teasingly, sucking his flesh in your mouth so he knows you mean business. Then you stare down at him with your serious eyes, foreheads pressing,

"—Fudge Cookie Dough Chocolate Gooey Fantasy Milkshake with extra Rainbow Sprinkles from Clyde's Creamery."

Yeah. He knew exactly this is where this was going.

He cracks a warm smile, cupping your jaw and parting your lips with his thumb. You suck it into your mouth, hoping to please him. Just as hes about to kiss you, he leans in and says, "No. Its 11pm. Bedtime."

You get off his lap with a cold shoulder and a scoff, proceeding to ignore him for the rest of the night.

Hes evens surprised when you go to bed still silent, facing away from him without a kiss goodnight when you turn off your lamp.

Until it's 2am when he's startled awake by the sound of the the front door opening. He's storming downstairs trying not to trip, and haphazardly throwing a shirt on backwards while in his boxers, only to see you with a packed bag, hand dramatically caressing  your bump with fake ass tears down your cheek going outside to the car.

"Where the FUCK are you going??" He asks, rubbing his eyes. Aggravation and rough exhaustion evident in his tone.

"You said you didn't love me, so I'm leaving," you huff. There's no hint of a joke in your words. Genuine pain. Hurt. Quiet and walking away. You dont wait to see his reaction and without another word, you turn to leave.

Hes so whiplashed, wracking his brain trying to remember any time he even remotely could have said something like that and you interpret it—

"I SAID YOU COULDN'T HAVE A HOT FUDGE COOKIE DOUGH CHOCOLATE GOOEY FANTASY MILKSHAKE because it was FUCKING 11PM AND CLOSED! Now get your fat beautiful ass and our baby back in here and dont ever pull this stupid stunt again!"

You scowl at him, preventing any physical reaction of your internal swooning he thinks my ass is pretty. You hold your ground and refuse to move from your position, defiant, in flip flops and a long nightgown on the front porch at 2am.

Joel furrows his brows and closes his eyes, soothing over the wrinkles you've caused to grow on his forehead.  "Fuck. I'll get you one tomorrow morning for breakfast. Okay?"

You smile giddily and skip back inside "Okie!" You step past him drop your shit on the couch, kissing him on the cheek. "Dont forget the extra rainbow sprinkles."

He grunts, glad that it's dark enough in the house you can't see how exhausted and annoyed he is.

"Oh and close the door, Joel! You'll wake the neighbors with your unnecessary shouting bit. Dramatic much?" You scoff, and waddle up the stairs and right to bed like nothing happened.

-

Tommy also has access to your ring camera notifications and sees Joel and you out there and the whole conversation, and he's laughing so hard when he watches the playback. He teases grumpy exhausted Joel the next morning, conveniently with a to-go milkshake in his hand at 8am.

"Softy for your girl?"

"Shut up."

"And when you have the baby, then there's gonna be two of her!" Tommy wheezes.

Joel's saggy and wrinkled eyes manage to open wider than ever as that particular horror sets over him.

- - - -

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@harriedandharassed @lola8888673 @its-nebuleuse @zliteraturehoe @merz-8 @joeldjarin @pascalscoffin @pedroshotwifey @ghostslillady @innerpersonunknown @missladym1981 @mrs-oharaxx @survivingandenduring @milla-frenchy @cockykookiee @fairytale07 @daddy-din @pedropascalsbbg @spookyxsam @somehopeatlast @millercontracting @pedrostories @mishala005 @theoraekenslover @animez96

#pedro pascal smut #joel miller fan fiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #last of us fanfiction #last of us smut #joel miller fic #joel miller #joel miller fluff #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fic #tlou fanfiction #tlou fic #tlou fluff #the last of us #last of us fic #joel dealing with preggo wife

[perfectsunlight]

✧ 𝟬𝟰 ✧ 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗳𝗮𝗹𝗹𝗼𝘂𝘁

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: 𝗹𝗮𝗻𝗴𝘂𝗮𝗴𝗲, pushing

⸺

𝗽𝗿𝗲𝘃𝗶𝗼𝘂𝘀 | 𝗺𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 | 𝗻𝗲𝘅𝘁

𝗙𝗘𝗕𝗥𝗨𝗔𝗥𝗬 𝟮𝟬𝟮𝟭

“no. now, bada. tell me now!” y/n shouted, fists clenched into balls at her sides. hot tears fell from her glaring eyes as she stared at the taller girl in front of her. bada ran a hand through her hair, trying to maintain her composure. 

there wasn’t anything that could stop the other girl’s meltdown. she knew better than that.

once the fire started, there was no way to put it out. she just had to let it burn out on its own.

the tension in the practice room was palpable, thick enough to suffocate. y/n's voice had risen to a feverish pitch, her chest heaving with every breath. her fists trembled as if they were on the brink of exploding into action. hot tears blurred her vision, but she refused to let them fall.

bada's attempt to maintain her composure was faltering. she could feel the weight of the younger girl’s accusations pressing down on her, threatening to break her resolve. her hand, once elegantly raking through her hair, now clenched into a fist at her side, mirroring y/n's anger.

"why are we talking about this here?" bada retorted, her voice tinged with exasperation as she turned away to face the mirrored wall. she couldn't bear to look into y/n's accusing eyes any longer.

but y/n was relentless, her voice trembling with the fury of betrayal. "because i want to know. i need to fucking know. was it you?"

bada closed her eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath, trying to find the right words. when she turned back to y/n, her expression was a mix of guilt, frustration, and fear. the storm that raged between the two dancers threatened to consume everything.

“yes, y/n,” bada finally admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “it was me.”

y/n's face contorted with a mixture of hurt and pure rage. she took a step toward the korean, her finger pointing accusingly. “you knew how much it meant to me, how hard i worked on it! and you just stole it, without asking, without even telling me?”

bada couldn't meet the other girl’s gaze. it was a fury brighter than the sun, and she didn’t feel like dealing with the hothead right now. she looked at her hands, as if there was anything interesting to look at there. “i was desperate, y/n. and we worked on part of it together so i thought i could make it work for the group.” she explained as calmly as possible.

the american clenched her fists so tightly that her knuckles turned white. “desperate? that's your excuse?! you think that justifies what you did?!” her voice raised even louder, disbelief ever evident in her tone.

“i had the company on my back! what did you think they were going to do? give me more time?” the taller girl snapped, feeling frustrated with the other dancer’s lack of understanding. bada was starting to feel aggravated now. how could the younger girl now understand where she was coming from?

“you could have just asked me! or just let me present the choreography myself!”

a sarcastic and forced laugh fell from the older girl’s lips. it was a sound y/n heard far too often from the taller girl. it was belittling, truly. “you really think they’d let just some american dancer get credit for choreography of a korean girl group?”

that was the sentence that truly snapped something within the young american. all she saw was red.

y/n's eyes blazed with fury as she shot back, “it doesn't matter where i'm from, bada. it was my work, mine! you should have given me the choice to decide how to present it.” bada's frustration bubbled over, her own anger flaring. 

“you don’t get it do you? the company, the fans, everyone expected me to come up with something groundbreaking. i thought i was doing what was best for the group!”

the american's jaw tightened as she stepped even closer to bada, their faces inches apart. “so, what? you're saying your fucking reputation is more important than us? than me? because you couldn't even respect me enough to be honest!” 

bada's voice quivered with heated emotion as she shot back, "no, it's not like that, y/n! i value our friendship more than anything, but i thought i was helping you by showcasing your talent." y/n couldn't contain her frustration any longer. she raised her voice even higher, her words filled with resentment.

“helping me? by stealing from me? i don't need your fucking help!” y/n's shoulders heaved with anger, her face flushed with emotion. "well, congratulations, bada. you got your glory.”

“selfishness? you think i did this for myself? you don't understand how much i've sacrificed for this group, for you!” bada shouted back. the older girl took a step closer to y/n, face so close to hers that she could see the flames dancing in her eyes. and in bada’s own were a hurricane of emotions spinning.

“do you know what they say about me because of you? you shouldn’t even be here, you know that?” bada snapped again, eyes glaring daggers into the younger girl. “you should be thanking me.”

the two girls were too caught up in their argument to notice aespa’s arrival, as well as redlic’s in the practice room. 

it was no longer an argument between two dancers. this was a battle of fire and water.

“is that what you think of me? is that how you really feel about me?” y/n whispered, venom dripping in her tone. 

but it was what bada said after that made y/n completely lose her temper.

the taller girl had a smug glare on her features as she scoffed in her face. “oh, it's not just me. it’s everyone.”

all y/n remembered was pushing the korean girl so hard that bada ended up hitting her back against the mirrors hard. she remembered redlic pulling back the other girl while giselle held by the waist and dragged her away. 

her vision became a blur of red-hot anger and hurt. the room seemed to close in around her, and she was only vaguely aware of the shocked gasps from the others and their attempts to separate her from bada. 

aeri’s grip on her waist tightened, trying to restrain her best friend. “y/n please,” she pleaded quickly. “she isn’t worth it.”

bada’s fingers brushed against the back of her head, checking for any signs of injury. the hurricane of emotions in her eyes had turned into a whirlwind of shock and disbelief. she couldn’t believe you actually pushed her.

the tension in the practice room was palpable, and as if a volcano erupted, y/n's voice echoed off the walls with a mixture of betrayal and animalistic rage. “after everything? you really think that i shouldn't even be here?”

bada hesitated, her smugness fading in the face of y/n's intense emotions. she realized she had gone too far, but her pride prevented her from backing down. “it's just business. it's about doing what's best for the majority.”

the room fell into a heavy silence as y/n's anger and frustration churned within her. she couldn't find words to express the depth of her hurt and disappointment. 

it was redlic who finally broke the silence, her voice stern and authoritative. “that's enough, both of you! we're a team, and this is not how we resolve our issues.” she let go of bada as she turned to face giselle, who still held onto the american tightly. 

“please,” gigi said in a hushed tone, feeling how fast her friend’s heart was beating against her chest. “it’s not worth it, trust me.” she knew y/n was far from cooled down, and she mentally thanked her trainer for the strength training she received.

 the other girls exchanged worried glances, their debut on the line as they witnessed the heated altercation between their teammates.

y/n's chest heaved with the effort to control her emotions, but her eyes never left bada's. “no,” she declared, her voice trembling with a mix of determination and heartbreak. there was nothing left for her. this was it.

no more bada. no more SM. no more dance.

“i quit.”

✧ 𝗦𝗬𝗡𝗢𝗣𝗦𝗜𝗦 ✧ ⸺ 𝗯𝗮𝗱𝗮'𝘀 𝘀𝘁𝗿𝗼𝗻𝗴 𝗼𝗽𝗶𝗻𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝗼𝗳 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘀𝗽𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝘀 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝘄𝗶𝗹𝗱𝗳𝗶𝗿𝗲, 𝘄𝗵𝗶𝗰𝗵 𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗻𝘀 𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗼 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝗱𝗶𝘀𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿. 𝗻𝗲𝗶𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗼𝗳 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗳𝗲𝗲𝗹 𝘀𝘆𝗺𝗽𝗮𝘁𝗵𝘆 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿. 𝗮𝗳𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗮𝗹𝗹, 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗼𝗻𝗹𝘆 𝟯 𝗿𝘂𝗹𝗲𝘀 𝗶𝗻 𝘀𝘁𝗿𝗲𝗲𝘁 𝘄𝗼𝗺𝗮𝗻 𝗳𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁𝗲𝗿: 𝗻𝗼 𝗹𝗶𝗺𝗶𝘁, 𝗻𝗼 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗽𝗲𝗰𝘁, 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗻𝗼 𝗺𝗲𝗿𝗰𝘆.

⸺

✧ 𝗧𝗔𝗚𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗧 ✧ ⸺ @10cmpulisic22 @zhivaxo @the2ndl @moonsvrse @arievlaw @awkwardtoafault @mightymyo @1luvkarina @jisooftme @angel-hyuckie @bangtancritterrrr @unforgivenangel @starchasermyloves @deadgirlwalking3 @cosettesrants @faatxma @santasbitch @jaeneohee @jxrdxnh @kaaylvst @jesuschrist2006 @enhapocketz @stinkbvgs @neuftaeng @sinifere @ocyeanicc @svt-rei @l-a-u-r-a--b @yunjinwrld @leo-dragon @phamminji

⸺ ✧ 𝗖𝗟𝗢𝗦𝗘𝗗 ✧ ⸺

#smau #all american bitch #bada lee #bada lee x reader #street woman fighter 2 #swf2 #original series #swf2 x reader #perfectsunlight

[charliemwrites]

Simon’s so calm with Feral it's actually scary. Like I'm reading each little interaction and I get scared waiting for him to finally snap but HE NEVER DOES.

what if he comes home stressed from a mission, and he is just absolutely not in the mood for Feral’s gremlin-ness and he says/does something he might regret the next morning?

Hi, I glad that that tension is there and that their dynamic doesn’t get too repetitive. This probably isn’t as dramatic as your were hoping for….? But I hope you enjoy it regardless!!

Simon has been gone for a week. Not the longest by far - you didn’t even need a babysitter this time - but long enough that you’ve missed him. He gets home late, very late. You’ve been staying up waiting, excited to greet him.

When he shuffles in the door, you don’t even wait for him to set his bag down. You nearly knock him into the front door climbing up him, chattering about what you’ve been up to while he’s away, and he’s home late how could he, and there’s so many things that need doing!

He’s favoring one leg but supports your weight, gently tries to shush you while you nip and babble at him. He’s missed you, really he has. But the mission was long and frustrating, the debrief even more so, and he’s already beyond aggravated that he’s late coming home to you. It doesn’t help that you’re fussing at him for keeping you awake when he’s told you repeatedly to go to bed before 23:00.

“Enough,” he snaps finally. “Give me a minute to breathe, would you? I’m barely in the door.”

You stop, a scowl already twisting your face.

“If you’re just going to be a brat, go to bed. I’ll deal with it in the morning.”

And ooooh that is not the thing to say. You drop off him instantly, face going cold.

“Fine. Welcome home, Simon.”

And your turn and stomp away to bed. He sighs, though the regret doesn’t set in immediately. He’s still annoyed about everything and feels justified in losing his patience just a little with you, just this once.

He showers off, cools his temper, and realizes that he shouldn’t have let his annoyance slip with you. It’s not your fault that he’s tired and other people are stupid. You greeted him the way you always do; couldn’t have known what state he’s in.

He approaches your room with every intention of apologizing but hesitates when he sees the light off. Maybe you’re asleep? It is pretty late for you.

And then he hears you sniffle. Fuck.

He feels instantly like shit, like his father.

“Pretty?” He calls gently. “Still awake?”

The little mountain of blanket shifts. “Shouldn’t you be… resting or whatever?” you reply, voice thick.

“Couldn’t go to bed without saying goodnight.”

“Good night.” You’re putting on a brave voice but he can hear the tremor in it. He hesitates a moment.

“Would you be willing to come down?” he ventures.

“What for?” You huff. “Aren’t I too much right now?”

His chest hurts. “You’re never too much for me, little one. I shouldn’t have made it seem like you were. I don’t think I can sleep without you, actually. I’m not enough in my own.”

You peek out from beneath the covers, eyes puffy and red-rimmed. “Promise?”

“Yeah, love, I promise. Would you sleep with me tonight.”

You climb down and burrow against his chest, let him wipe away the last of the tears and even accepts the sharp bite he gets to his hand.

“Am I a brat?” you ask, voice small.

He chuckles and smooths a hand through your hair. “Maybe, but you’re perfect that way.”

#asks #my writing #thoughts™️ #cod #fanfiction #keeper/kept au #reader fic #keeper ghost #kept pet ghost

[geeky-politics-46]

Kinktober 2023 - Day 10

Exhibitionism with Doctor Stephen Strange

"Something To Keep You Occupied"

Smut - Explicit content - NSFW - 18+ only!

Summary: You come up with a naughty idea for how to keep Stephen entertained at fancy boring events.

Warnings: Smut (NSFW) - 18+ ONLY - exhibitionism, sex toys, inappropriate use of astral projection, dirty talk, swearing, pet names, reference to vaginal sex, reference to oral sex, a little bit of fluff

You had gotten and worn it as part of a deal to get Stephen to agree to go to a ceremony honoring the Avengers. It was something to keep him occupied and keep him from complaining about wanting to leave every five minutes. You didn't realize he would be such a menace with it.

Although, you probably should have. It was Stephen, after all.

The vibrator currently nestled in your panties and in your cunt had settled onto a low buzz. So low you could barely feel it, but you knew this was Stephen merely giving you a chance to catch your breath after spilling your champagne down the front of your dress and sending your silverware clattering onto the floor a minute prior. He had slowly been building up the speed when all of a sudden he turned it to the highest setting. Making you jolt in your seat. Your movements startling those around you.

You knew he wasn't done, though, because he still had his hand in his suit pocket. The pocket with the small remote control that controlled the vibrator. He also still had that wicked smile on his face as he stood by the dais with the rest of the heros, listening to the presenter talk about each one of them. Ignoring how Tony and Steve were both preparing to fight to see who could grab the mic first to give his own speech.

The only person in the room who seemed to occasionally pick up on the sound of the vibrator was Bucky. When Stephen would turn the setting higher, you would see Barnes start looking around like he was looking for a fly or other bug that could have been making that noise. It was kind of funny, actually, but you didn't dare crack a smile. That would have meant you let your guard down, and you knew Stephen would use it as a chance to strike. Even Pepper, who admittedly asked if you were okay after the champagne incident, hadn't figured out the game you and Stephen were secretly playing.

As Tony and Steve both gave their speeches, an eternity seemed to pass. Neither of them were ever short on words. The rest of the heroes basically gave up on getting back to their own tables and took seats in the chairs that had been placed on the stage.

Your nerves were still on edge from your almost orgasm earlier, and the soft vibrations of the low teasing setting only worked to aggravate you. You decided to head for the bathroom as a chance to distract you, and maybe if you were fast enough, you could even get yourself off once without Stephen knowing.

The ladies' room was completely empty. Most of the audience, those who didn't have to deal with them every day, were totally rapt by Tony and Steve's speeches. So you really felt no reason to hurry. Taking time to touch up your makeup before deciding if you would take matters into your own hands. So to speak.

After re-applying your lipstick and putting it back into your handbag, you certainly didn't expect to look up and see Stephen standing behind you in the mirror. Except when you turned around, he wasn't there. Confused, you spun back to face the mirror only to see his striking blue eyes and cheeky smile staring back at you once more.

"Stephen, what's going on?"

He chuckled and moved over to the door visible in the mirror. Throwing the lock before coming to stand behind you once again.

"Astral projection, sweetheart. I saw you sneak out, and I decided this was an opportunity far too good to miss. You see, I'm still very much sitting on that stage, remote control in my pocket, but this way, I get to see you fall apart. Completely uninhibited by the fear of others seeing or hearing."

If you concentrated, you could feel his hands coming to rest on your hips and his lips ghosting over your neck. Watching the form in the mirror where in reality there was no one visible. You let your head lull to the side and swore you could feel him sucking and biting at your neck.

"The best part, my love, is that thanks to my training, I can still control small motor functions in my body, even as my astral form is here with you."

With that statement, the setting on the vibrator changed, becoming several speeds stronger. A gasp pulled from your throat, and your eyes jolted open. Stephen's grin grew into a full-on smile. Your hands gripping at the marble of the counter, hoping to keep yourself up right.

The feeling of one of his hands moving to cup your sex and the other moving to grope at one of your breasts. The fabric of your dress bunching up as you ground down against the invisible force of Stephen's palm, making your cunt clench and your body shudder.

"That's it, sweetheart. I know how close you are. Can feel how fucking soaked your panties are, and its not from spilling your drink. I'm surprised our two super soldiers out there can't smell your sweet little cunt drenching everything. I was very tempted to let you cum earlier but then when you couldn't control yourself I knew that you would get us caught. I should punish you for that, but frankly this is more fun."

He notched the vibrator up a little higher and changed the pulse pattern so you would have to set a tempo against his hand in order to get the friction you wanted. The fingers of his other invisible hand starting to pinch and tug at your nipple through the fabric of your dress. Stephen was 100% correct. You were already insanely close to cumming, and with the added almost overwhelming feeling of his astral form pressed against your back you could practically feel your orgasm building stronger by the second. Licking at the edges of your spinal column.

"Imagine how it would look if someone else were to walk in. Find you whimpering and grinding against nothing. Like such a horny little slut. Little would they know how much of a good girl you're being for me. Now hurry up and make yourself cum. I think they are finally almost done. Then I believe I've fulfilled my part of our deal, and something tells me you'll be just as ready as me to head home to our bedroom as I am."

You fervently nodded in agreement at his statement. Unable to form the correct coherent sentence. You were very much ready to let Stephen take you back home to the Sanctum and have him fuck you silly. Just the thought made you have to bite your lip to keep yourself from moaning loudly enough that you knew someone would hear. Still letting little whimpers and moans fall since you knew Stephen wouldn't let you actually cum if you were too quiet.

Your hips starting to speed up, and your head dropping back, a little frustrated that you couldn't lay your head back on Stephen's shoulder. As hot as this was, it still wasn't the same as having him really touching you. It only made you double your efforts to cum faster so you could get him home. Your eyes closing in concentration, focusing on the vibrations, the sensation of Stephen's hands ghosting over your form, and his words in your ear.

"Why don't you beg me? Since you were saying I'm always the one who's so impatient to leave these things. Seems like your present has worked to turn the tables on you. Tell me what you want? Tell me why you want to go home so badly? I wanna hear you beg for me as you cum."

You were on the verge of tears as you chased your high. The knot in your stomach beginning to tighten, and your hips starting to buck more wildly. The only thing keeping you standing was your grip on the cool marble countertop. You willed yourself to open your eyes and lock them with Stephen's astral form through the mirror. If he wanted you to beg, then you would make it good.

"Want to cum, Stephen. You've had me so wet all night. I'm surprised the toy could even stay in my pussy. I want you to make me cum and then I want your cock. Been thinking about you fucking me senseless since you got up on that stage. I love seeing you all dressed up and I just couldn't stop thinking about how bad I wanted to play with you cock. Watch you get hard through your expensive suit. Maybe get on my knees and suck you off. No, I don't think I could wait that long to feel your cock inside me. Fuck, I'm gonna cum!"

The faint sound of Stephen growling into your ear, setting off a chain reaction in your body. Your knuckles blanching as the fire in your belly exploded, sending shockwaves through your body. Your cunt squeezing around the toy and fluttering wildly. Stephen's name coming out as cry amongst your high pitched moans and whimpers. His voice coaxing you through your orgasm.

"Good girl. So beautiful when you cum just for me. That's it, baby. Don't hold back. Such a good girl. Love you so much. This idea you had was such a good one."

As you started to come down from your high, the vibrator made you jump and squirm. Your body teetering on the edges of overstimulation. You felt Stephen slowly lower the settings until the only buzzing was what was left in your nerve endings.

You smiled at the faint form of your partner in the mirror. You looked almost a little drunk in your post-pleasure haziness. The sound of loud applause shaking both of you from the moment. Suddenly you remembered you were standing in a public bathroom and that the man who had just made you cum was actually occupied receiving an award on stage in the other room.

You moved to straighten out your dress and reassemble your hair. Stephen's astral form straightening up behind you. You knew he would have to go back into his body momentarily if your tryst was to go unnoticed by the others.

"You should get back out there, Stephen. Sounds like it's finishing up. As soon as you get off that stage, I'm dragging you off to our bed. I'll send Pepper an apology for our sudden departure later. I think we've stayed plenty long enough."

He smiled at you and nodded. Leaning in to ghost one more kiss over your neck. The ticklish sensation making you giggle and nuzzle into the air where he would have been. He walked over to the door and flipped open the lock.

Before he could pass through the door, you told him one more thing.

"Stephen… I love you too, and I am so proud of you. Now, hurry up so we can go home."

--------------------------------

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[the-oblivious-writer]

Let The Light In |Drabble (1)|

Tara Carpenter x Fem!Reader | Platonic!Dewey Riley x Fem!Reader

Drabble One: Splashes & Changes

Summary: Even when you didn't make it easy on him, Dewey only ever tried to help you

Warning(s): Swearing

Notes: Heavily inspired by this scene in Gilmore Girls. This takes place when R first moved to Woodsboro! We get to see how R's relationship with Dewey started out so this drabble mostly focuses on Dewey and R

Masterlist

The fall breeze hits you as you walk out of the school building. You pulled out your book, and continued reading where you left off as you walked. It didn’t take long for a familiar face to join you. You didn’t have to look over to know it was.

“Hey,” Dewey nodded at you. You turned your face to him then looked back, resisting the urge to roll your eyes. You exhaled through your nose as you lightly clenched your jaw.

“How was school?” 

“Great.”

“Learn anything good?”

“Oh yeah…tons of things. I’ve got gold stars plastered all over my forehead,” you answered with sarcasm laced in your voice.

“I had an interesting call today. Wanna know who it was from?” You put your book in your back pocket as the two of you continued to walk.

“Not really.”

“So, Mr. Collier—you know he runs the store that’s not too far from your house.”

“If you say so.”

“He said you came in today–”

“He did?” You rhetorically asked, voice lacking interest. You knew Dewey was amping up to something, and you could care less. 

“—And he said you took some money out of a little donation cup to help repair the roads. I told him he was ‘crazy, you wouldn’t do that, you weren’t a thief’ that ‘he was just trying to start trouble’ and then I hung up on him. Now, don’t get me wrong, I enjoy hanging up on Mr. Collier. The guy’s nothing but a jerk—and he is crazy.

“But I was just wondering if, maybe, any of the other things were true.” 

“What do you think?” You asked, turning the question back on him. 

“I think, if you tell me that what he’s saying is not true then I’m going to believe it’s not true.”

“Okay, it’s not true.”

“That doesn’t sound very convincing—”

 You stopped in your tracks and finally turned to face Dewey. You fists were clenched as you spoke, not 

“Look, what exactly do you want from me? First my mom drags me all the way from New York to here, now I get stuck with you half the time. I'm in a school that has us doing the pledge of allegiance in six–different–languages—I mean geez! I haven’t even heard of two of them. I’m supposed to be this happy–go–lucky person after being taken from my home, my friends—and now you want what from me?!”

You didn’t need this. You were fine living in a crappy–ish apartment. You were more than fine with knowing the city like the back of your hand, and knowing the people who walked it. What you weren’t fine with was dealing with new faces, and this damn town who seemed to think they knew you when they didn’t. 

They resented you, and you knew why. They would constantly compare you to your late psychotic uncle. They were making assumptions about you, before you even stepped foot into Woodsborro. 

“I’m just trying to help you,” Dewey sighed as his patience was growing thin. Dewey knew what people said about you, and he knew you heard what most of them were saying. He wished he could protect you—shield you from all of it, but he can only do so much.

“Well stop trying. Stop talking to me, stop following me, and stop asking me questions—just stop!” You were aggravated and annoyed with everything in your life right now. Unforntally, you were taking it out on Dewey. 

“That’s what you want?”

“Yes!”

“That’s really what you want?” He asked again, his voice grew a little louder.

“Yes.”

“Fine. You got it, kid!” He threw his hands up as he said this.

“Thank you!”

“You’re welcome!”

You both continue to walk side by side, refusing to look at the other person. When you both walked along the bridge you suddenly felt a force shove you. In less than a second you were standing in the lake, soaked. Pushing your hair back, you look up to see Dewey continuing to walk with his back facing you as if he didn’t just shove you into a lake. 

He didn’t spare you a single glance as you tried to hop back onto the bridge. By the time you lifted yourself up, Dewey had already left. 

Nobody liked soggy socks, but you knew you deserved it. Even if you were too stubborn to admit it out loud.

—

The next day people were crowded around Mr. Collier’s store. He’s ranting about something, with his hands going up and down as he speaks angrily. When Tara walked closer she finally saw what all the ruckus was about. 

Apparently, somebody had put most of his merchandise in Christmas wrapping paper. Tara couldn’t help but chuckle behind her hand when she saw this. Whoever had done this was a genius—but it wasn’t until she looked across the street and regretted that thought.

There you were, wearing a smirk that said it all. You finger wave to her when she meets your eye line. She leaves the crowd and walks over to you. You’re leaning against something when you heard Tara say, “What’s your problem?” 

You tilted your head and furrowed your eyebrows at her. “What do you mean?” You tried acting innocent even though you knew she saw right through your act. 

“You know what I mean. They all know it was you.” 

You stood up straight, before responding. “And? It’s hilarious. Don’t think I didn’t see you cracking up.” Tara turned away her face then turned back to look at you. 

“But that’s not the point. The point is you’re just making things harder for Dewey.”

Now she has your full attention. “Wait—what do you mean?” You bit the inside of your cheek as she began to speak. 

“He’s getting the blame for all the shit you’ve caused in just a month of  being here.”

“Oh…I didn’t realize they’ve been coming down so hard on him,” you say with a softness in your voice. A softness that Tara’s never heard before now. 

“Yeah—just try to get your act together.” Tara said before walking off.

You sat on one of the benches nearby, and as you tried to read you couldn’t help but think about Tara’s words. It’s not like you were making it any better for Dewey. He’s probably done more shit for you than you could say your father has. 

Moving here was definitely not ideal. All change did was bring more anxiety into your life. So, when your mother told you, you would be moving all the way to California you didn’t take the news well. You still weren’t taking it too well. There were a few reasons your mom told you, as to why you were moving but you knew the main one. To be away from your father. 

All you knew is that her and Dewey met in nineteen ninety eight during the ghostface attacks. After that they got close and became friends. You guess they definitely got along well since she made him your godfather. 

Dewey was also a former Sheriff. He knew about your track record and always made sure to keep an eye on you. It was extremely annoying, and aggravating. You felt like you couldn’t breathe!

Your mom was a nurse so you didn’t get to see much of her; she always took as many shifts as she could, because more shifts meant more money. Which is something your family could definitely use. 

Since you were stuck with Dewey so often you got sick of him—quick. 

But now, here you were, sitting on a bench, and thinking about everything. You knew you were the asshole in all this. He was just trying to help you out; he didn't need you making it harder than it already was for him.

You sighed, getting up from the bench and making your way to Dewey’s trailer. You knew what you had to do even if it meant shoving out the words. Apologizing was never your speciality. 

You knocked two times, and Dewey answered the door already knowing who it was. 

“Hey, kid.”

“Hey. Mind if I–” You pointed to inside his trailer and he nodded, letting you inside.

“So…uh—” You shoved your hands in your pockets, looking around as if you’ve never seen his place before. Dewey looked at you with crossed arms as he stood, his expression still warm. It felt like he was always wearing a warm expression no matter what.

“Hey.”

Dewey chuckled a bit before responding. “You already said that.”

“Right—I wanted to apologize.”

“Okay…I’m waiting.” Dewey took a seat on his futon, looking at you. 

“Oh, that was actually the apology…”

He hummed and replied, “For…?” You could tell from the smug he was wearing that he enjoyed this. You exhale, tilting your head back and looking at the ceiling.

“I’m sorry for making things harder than it needs to be.” You finally said, looking back at him.

“Thank you, Y/N. I…appreciate that.” He looked at you with a soft smile; you didn’t get many of those.

“No problem.” You give him a small tight lipped smile before you start to turn around. Before you could leave the trailer you hear Dewey’s voice again. 

“Why don’t you stay for dinner? I know your mom’s working tonight and Stepehen’s sleeping over at a friend’s house. What do you say?” His offer caught you off guard. You certainly weren’t expecting that after all the shit you’ve put him through. 

“Uh, yeah. That sounds nice, actually.” You give him a small smile back. What you were feeling was indescribable. Frankly, because you don’t think you’ve ever felt it before—or you just don’t feel it often enough. You could tell Dewey genuinely cared about you. It was a strange feeling, but it wasn’t a bad one.

You spent the rest of your night in Dewey’s trailer. You talked and joked with each other as you ate leftover pizza with the television playing in the background. 

The next morning you woke up to Dewey cursing at his toaster. “Fucking damnit!” You pushed the blanket off as you got up to see what was wrong. You were rubbing your eyes when Dewey saw you.

“Sorry, did I wake you?” He asked, now whacking his toaster. 

“No, you’re good. But–uh, why are you assaulting your toaster?” You looked at the toaster then at him with raised eyebrows. 

“I’ve had this toaster for ten years and suddenly it just stops working,” he answered as he continued to hit the toaster on its side. 

“Well I don’t know if ten years is suddenly.”

“Whatever,” he let out a defeated sigh, pushing it away. “I have to grab a few things. Will you be fine here by yourself or do you want me to drop you off?” You looked at the toaster as you thought to yourself. 

“I’ll be good here.” You answered and he patted your shoulder, making his way to grab his keys.

“Breakfast is on the table, I shouldn’t be out long!” He called out before leaving his trailer.

As soon as he left you went for his tool box—you remembered seeing it the first time you came over. Once you had the tool box you grabbed the toaster and got to work.

It actually wasn’t that bad. There was just some tightening and cleaning that had to be done. By the time you were done you had ten minutes to spare before Dewey was home. It wasn’t until later that night that he noticed something was different about his toaster.

“My toaster—it works,” he said with a bit of shock in his voice. This toaster was a complete hunk of junk just a few hours ago. What happened?

He looked over to see you completely ignoring his words as you read from your book. Then it dawned on him and he smiled. 

“Thanks, kid.” 

“Don’t know what you're talking about.”

-----------

A/N: I feel like Woodsboro would be obsessed with Christmas....way too early, so that's why I had R wrap Mr. Collier's shit in Christmas paper.

That's 100% one of R's motives. I bet she was walking down the street and got annoyed cause she saw Mr. Collier selling Christmas stuff in the middle of October

Taglist: @t-wylia @lesbianpepsi @jennasfav @alyciaddict @justafoolinlove @steffido1993 @niqmandu @severelyuniquereview @darklron @ravenousinferno @smut-religiously777 @beautifulmongerbanditsalad @vanatalye @alexkolax @andsoigotabutterfly

#tara carpenter x y/n #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter x female reader #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #scream #let the light in au

[skyloftian-nutcase]

Writing prompts! I'm sending them individually to make it easier to answer all or a few or none of them. They all turned out to be LU in Healthcare oops

When Hyrule is on a call and the patient is awake and alert enough to be scared, how does he help?

EMS calls had phases to them.

The first phase, of course, was getting dispatched, and responding to the scene. It was typical for emotions to run high immediately, for the adrenaline to spike, and everyone reacted differently. Hyrule usually ran scenarios through his head, easing his own anxiety by preparing himself based on the dispatch information. It wasn’t much, especially since dispatch could have faulty details, and he was more than happy to wing it… but it kept his mind preoccupied.

Mo’s usual response was to get aggravated. He would judge the dispatch information, would get irritated whenever a driver messed up and did something reckless. The man’s compassion was quiet and immense, but his stress came out in snappish quips directed at situations and nonexistent people.

The third phase began with their arrival. This was usually when they would figure out what they were actually dealing with.

A dispatch for chest pain meant Mo drove and Hyrule led. The secondary indicated a male in his 40s with severe chest pain and difficulty breathing. It couldn’t really get more cut and dry than that, Hyrule supposed. They had to drive to the central train station, which complicated matters. Hyrule had to agree as Mo grumbled about the situation - he hated crowded scenes.

As the pair walked inside with a stretcher loaded with supplies, they were directed to a secluded area, which surprised Hyrule. He was far more accustomed to people bunching up to stare, getting in his way and making his skin crawl. Instead, they were ferried into a small room, and Hyrule’s senses immediately went on alert at the sight of security guards.

He supposed one of the security members was the patient, then.

But no, because it was clear who the patient was, and his lack of security uniform was not the first thing Hyrule noticed. It was his grayish complexion, the sweat beading his forehead, the scrunched up expression of focus and agony fighting for control. It was the way the man was carefully rocking back and forth between leaning back and clutching his chest and leaning forward to open his airway because he couldn’t breathe. It was how silent he was, eyes piercing through the table in front of him as he fought with all his might with how he was feeling.

This man was sick.

Mo sensed it too, and immediately started to guide the stretcher in time with Hyrule as they reached the patient. Mo prepped the monitor to get the man’s vital signs and do an EKG to look at his heart while Hyrule assessed him and spoke to him.

“Hello, sir,” he greeted, eyes looking the man over. “What’s going on?”

“These gentlemen are being too dramatic,” the man wheezed, sharp eyes burning into the security guards. “I’m fine.”

The statement was so ludicrous even Mo stopped what he was doing to throw the patient a look.

“You sure don’t look fine,” Hyrule noted.

“That’s what we said,” one of the guards piped up. “His friend called us over because he nearly collapsed.”

Hyrule glanced around. “Where’s your friend?”

“I told him to get on the damn train,” the patient grumbled. “Which is where I should be.”

“Let’s make sure you’re okay first,” Hyrule advised him. “It won’t do you any good to board that train if you die before you reach your destination.”

Given the man’s attitude, Hyrule expected some kind of scoff or angry response, but instead, the man bit his lip, showing fear. A pang of sympathy went through the paramedic, and he put his hand on the man’s shoulder. “Let’s just see what’s going on, okay?”

The man watched him a moment, saying nothing, eyes searching for something, and then he squeezed them shut, chin tilting down as he nodded.

“When did this start?”

The patient hesitated before answering. “It’s been going on for an hour or two. Just got much worse when were climbing the stairs.”

Alarm bells continued to ring in Hyrule’s mind as he listened. Time is heart tissue repeated over and over. He felt his own heart beat faster as the monitor collected information.

HR 118. BP 92/44 with a MAP of 60. RR 28, SpO2 89%, and the EKG…

ST elevation. Leads II and III, with reciprocal depression in V4. Shit.

This man was having a heart attack. He’d been having one, and he was going into shock.

“Sir, it looks like you’re having a heart attack,” Hyrule informed him as he and Mo moved into action, getting him oxygen through a nasal cannula that could also read capnogrpahy, moving bags off the stretcher so they could quickly get him on it. “Have you had one before? What kind of medical history do you have?”

The patient watched him a moment, growing paler, and then he squeezed his eyes closed yet again, trying to calm himself. “I smoke. Nothing else. Doc mentioned high blood pressure during the last exam, but he said cut the cigarettes and the stress. Didn’t need meds yet. I don’t take anything.”

“Any medical allergies?”

“No.”

“Have you taken anything for this pain?”

“Aspirin,” the man answered with a huff. “I started carrying it just in case.”

“Good thing,” Hyrule commented, patting him on the shoulder lightly. “We’re going to take good care of you, okay?”

Mo had the stretcher ready and in front of them, with the monitor behind the back of the cot. Hyrule shoulder the go bag and oxygen tank while assisting the patient to stand, pivot, and sit. The less strain on his struggling heart, the better.

Security helped clear a path for them as they moved quickly. Hyrule already had his phone in hand, telling the ER to call a STEMI alert. Once they were inside the ambulance, Mo helped Hyrule secure everything and then quickly went up front to drive them out of there. Hyrule grabbed defibrillator pads, placing them on the man’s chest.

“Are those necessary?” The man asked, far more out of fear and dread than anything else.

Hyrule tried to find a balance, tried to reassure the poor man as he moved. “They’re just a precaution. Right now I don’t see a big indication for them, but I like to be ready.”

As he moved on to start an IV, he worked on trying to distract the man. His oxygen saturation had improved with the oxygen, but his blood pressure was still low. Too low for nitroglycerin, which was contraindicated in an inferior MI anyway. Hyrule didn’t have many treatment options, and he hated that. He’d tentatively give fluids. The MAP was still survivable, but barely.

“You from Castle Town?” He asked with a small smile as he put the tourniquet on the man’s arm.

“No. Well. I was.” The man answered, watching him work before swearing under his breath and staring at the ceiling. “I’m supposed to be going home. This was my break from work.”

Hyrule struggled a bit to comment on that. He tried, “Well, once the hospital patches you up, you’ll be able to go home in better condition than you would’ve.”

“You mean alive,” the man remarked bitterly, huffing, “God certainly does like to fucking test me. But if he doesn’t kill me, my wife and daughter will.”

Hyrule was about to ask about them, but the patient picked up on his attempt and waved him off. “Please, just do what you need to do.”

Hyrule obliged him, thankful for the silence to focus. He got the 18G IV in the man’s forearm—for being a smoker he had very good veins and toned arms. He at least kept in shape in that regard.

As Hyrule ran out of things to do aside from observe, he grabbed his computer to collect information. He got the man’s name and date of birth, home address, basic medical information. He called the hospital and updated them.

Mo got them to the ED in record time. The pair quickly unloaded the stretcher and went inside, where charge told them to go to one of the major rooms. A group of three or four people was waiting for them, including Warriors and Legend and Twilight and an emergency physician, as well as a cardiologist. Hyrule gave his report quickly as they moved the patient and wished the man luck.

As he exited, he sighed, feeling the tension drain out of his body. They got him there alive. That was a victory. He hoped the hospital could help him.

“Hey Rulie!”

Hyrule turned and smiled as he saw Wild. “Hey! I thought you weren’t released to go back to work until next week?”

“Eh, I passed the last exam with flying colors,” Wild shrugged with a satisfied smirk. “I heal pretty well, you know.”

The crash flashed in his mind again. The blood. Wild’s broken body. Hyrule’s smile grew a little strained. “Please don’t strain yourself.”

“I won’t,” his friend replied sincerely. “I promise.”

Movement caught his eye, and Hyrule looked beyond to see Warriors and Twilight pushing the stretcher with his patient into the hall, likely heading for the cath lab. He was honestly surprised he himself hadn’t been directed to take the patient there directly.

Wild turned as well to look. “You brought him in?”

“Yeah,” Hyrule answered quietly as the man caught sight of him, pained, tired eyes scanning him before stopping at his companion.

The man jolted up, nearly ripping out an IV in the process. Hyrule jumped, startled, and watched Twilight fight the man to lie back down. He stepped forward, eager to help and soothe the man, who had mostly been reasonable for him. Wild stayed frozen in place.

“Abel, it’s okay,” Hyrule assured him. “They’re gonna help you.”

“L—Link—” the man said, arm reaching beyond Hyrule.

How did he know his…?

He wasn’t talking to Hyrule, was he?

Hyrule turned hesitantly, and saw that Wild was nearly paler than the patient. His eyes were glazed over in that familiar look, that look that the medic knew now to recognize.

Hyrule quickly went to his friend while Warriors and Twilight both held down the patient, who was hurried out of the ED while breathlessly saying all their names over and over and over, his voice growing steadily weaker.

#you ask skye answers #lovely bluevaractyl #lu in healthcare #lu hyrule #do I have a tag for Mo?? #lu mo #🤷🏻‍♀️👍🏻 #lu wild #abel #writing #guess who’s making a guest appearance?? :D :D :D #Skye time travels through the queue

[shayyprasad]

pity | peter parker

tw: kinda angst a lil?? oh and cursing

summary: your cancer changed peter more than yourself.

the last couple weeks had been a blur, she remembered fragments of pieces and her head was spinning. everyday was the same now.

pity.

the repetition of something she didn't want. the constant apologies, as if it was their fault. as if they could change it. y/n didn't want that. she wanted the whole world to just go away. just become silent. for everyone to disappear.

she hated it.

the gifts. the way everyone spoke around her and to her, as if she was a broken piece of glass, cracks scattered around. all the exceptions that were made.

pity.

even her best friend treated her differently. the one person she was supposed to be able to lean on couldn't even hold her up properly. and honestly? she was sick of it. not that she'd ever do anything about it.

chances are, peter didn't even notice how she was taking it. if anyone were to ask her, she'd say that everyone else cared more about her cancer than she did. y/n had already accepted it, and she didn't understand why anyone else was being like this. frankly, it was aggravating.

y/n wasn't giving up on her sickness, her body, herself. she was just trying to survive it. she didn't want to be known as the sick girl. normal. y/n was normal. just like everyone else. her sickness didn't define her. her actions did.

how much would it take to knock sense into everyone?

she sighed as she closed her locker, trying to think of something else.

"hey."

she let out a small yelp, startled by the familiar brunette boy.

"shit, peter, you scared me."

"i'm sorry! are you okay?" worry flooded his voice.

this is what y/n meant. if she wasn't sick, then he likely would've cackled in her face and teased her, but the problem was the fact that she was indeed sick. meaning that he wouldn't be normal peter. he would be smothering mom-like peter. she resisted the urge to roll her eyes and nodded stiffly. not in the mood to deal with this, she dragged him to class by his wrist.

y/n plopped down at an open seat and peter took the one next to her. she sunk down in her seat a little when she noticed that mr. holland passed around the tests. when he put her's down, he put it face-down. that was enough for her to know that she did bad. y/n didn't even bother to check it as she shoved it down to the bottom of her backpack, into a sea of misfit papers, never to be seen again.

it's not that she wasn't smart. because she was. y/n was one of the top students, tied against peter making their rivalry nothing but a tight friendship. but with cancer came many doctor appointments, blood tests, and if there might be anything going around, anything at all, she had to stay home. couldn't risk it, as her mother said.

out of the corner of her eye she could see peter press his lips together in a tight line. she clenched her jaw as students glanced over their backs, checking out the sick girl.

pity.

"what are you looking at, fucker?" she snapped under her breath to the boy across to her. he looked away quickly, mumbling something under her breath.

for the most part, the rest of the day went quickly. y/n stopped by her locker to shove her school crap in her backpack, knowing that peter would be waiting for her in the school parking lot to drive her to his house- courtesy of a school project. she didn't bother to hurry, though. it's not like he would be mad at her.

and now she had an idea.

how would she make someone not pity her? she would make them mad instead. and that's exactly what she would do.

starting with peter.

y/n pushed her locker shut, pissed at life. she walked to the truck that once belonged to uncle ben. once she got in she deliberately slammed it shut. sorry, uncle ben, she thought. peter winced, clearly trying to make nothing of it.

pity.

what else could she do make him mad? how far could she go? how far was she willing to go?

...aux? aux!

y/n smirked, plugging her phone in and scrolling through the options.

miley. peter hated miley cyrus. what song was his least favorite?

this one. definitely this one.

i hopped off the plane at lax

with a dream and my cardigan

welcome to the land of fame excess

she leaned back with a smile, which quickly dropped when he did nothing but let out a breath. she was good at this, she was good at being annoying. y/n was his best friend, she knew all of his ticks. why wasn't this working? why wasn't her plan working?

he was humming along. why the hell was he humming along?

and then she realized. he was trying to make her happy. how wholesome was that? wait, no. focus. after a car ride she deemed too long, mostly because it consisted of so much miley, they finally got home. well, technically, peter's home. but it was just as much hers as it was his. after all, she was in most of the photos that were hung up around the house. as she got out, she made sure to slam the door, as childish as that was. y/n smirked in satisfaction as she saw him frown.

y/n huffed and walked towards the door, waiting for peter to unlock it. he moved past her and did so, shutting the door behind him.

"hi, peter? how was school?" aunt may asked, putting away some dishes. "oh, y/n, hello to you, too!"

"hey, may. it was alright." he shrugged.

"would you guys like something to eat?"

"no," she responded quickly, already starting on the stairs.

"ohhh-kay. i guess not. we'll be upstairs working on a project," peter huffed.

"of course," may said, raising an eyebrow.

when he got up there, she was sitting on the bed, scrolling mindlessly on tiktok. peter sat down in the swivel chair, pulling out his notebook and laptop.

"i already did the first three chapters, did you do the last two?"

"nope," she she said, popping the 'p' as she didn't bother to look up.

"uh, i- okay. that's- that is completely, totally fine. we can do it right now, real quick, and then we can start with the-"

"nah. not really in the mood. you got it, right? i mean, you aren't smart for nothing."

this was it. he'd be livid.

"um, okay."

see, he was so- what?

pity.

y/n scowled, now she was livid. she unzipped her backpack, grabbing a piece of gum and shoving it in her mouth. she chewed it in the most obnoxious way possible, blowing bubbles and everything. this was his number one pet peeve.

still nothing. no complaint. no protest.

fucking pity.

"why aren't you mad?" she finally snapped.

he turned around, "huh? what do you mean?"

"i mean, why. aren't. you. mad?"

"why would i be?"

"because i've been doing everything i possibly can to make you mad! i've been a dipshit friend all day!"

"but... i'm not... mad?" he made it sound like a question, which pissed her off.

"why can't you just be normal!? i want things to be the way they were! you aren't my mother! you're my friend! act like it, god, please!"

"i- i don't- i am being your friend. nothing's changed, i promise."

"no, no. stop lying to my face. everything's changed! i don't want your pity! i don't want your stupid, fucking pity!" she was crying now, hot tears streaming down her face. "everything's changed! because- because of... my cancer, right? that's why?"

"that's not- look, i'm sorry-"

"stop that! stop saying sorry. i get those a lot, and you know what that makes them? empty words!"

"i care, okay!? everyone does! and honestly, and seems like you're the only one who doesn't!"

"i do care! i'm the sick one, remember? i mean, you treat me like a baby! that's... that's not the same as caring! you're pitying me! i don't want your pity!"

she grabbed her backpack and stormed down the stairs, not bothering to spare a single glance at may. peter followed after, trying to get her attention, but she didn't want to listen. y/n left, right out the door, running to god knows where. she didn't even know. all she knew was that she wanted to be alone.

y/n stopped in an alley, hiccupping and crying softly. she laid there pathetically, trying to catch her breath, knowing she wasn't supposed to be running or tiring herself out. the world spun around her, small black dots poking her vision. after blinking rapidly, everything seemed to go back to normal.

she rubbed at her nose, leaning up against the wall and closing her eyes. she sat there for a couple minutes, but it felt like forever on her part.

"y/n? y/n, where are you?"

the girl squeezed her eyes shut, hoping it would all go away.

"y/n?" his soft voice called out. "oh my god, there you are. i- i got so worried when you just- please don't cry," peter took a seat next to her, wiping her tears with one hand, and cupping her face with the other.

"angel, i didn't mean to make you feel that way. i- i was scared. i've been so used to being able to save everyone, pull them out of dangerous situations, thugs, robberies, bandit, whatever, you name it. b- but i couldn't save you from this. i couldn't protect you, not this time, and that's the one thing i'd swore i'd always do. so when i heard you got sick... i don't know. i just, i panicked. i was afraid that... maybe i'd lose you. i wanted to be careful, make sure that you were happy... or comfortable, and that was the least i could do, i figured, if not save you. and i know i'm rambling here, angel, but that's because i love you. so much. you hold such an important place in my heart, and i- i don't know what i'd do without you. b-but we're gonna get through this, because you are so fucking strong, a-and i'm here every step of the way. i love you, y/n. yeah, i really love you," he breathed, tears sliding down his face.

y/n was quiet, not knowing what to say. he loved her. and from that spiel, not the way friends do.

that was the best part.

"i- i'm sorry, i didn't mean to say all that, well, i did, but not like this- i mean, god, please say something so i know i haven't fucked up everything."

"i love you, too, peter," she sniffled, "so much."

and they kissed. it was the most special thing she'd ever done, y/n would hold that memory close to her heart, and never let it go. it was bittersweet, salty from their tears, but sweet from their love.

there hadn't been any pity. just love.

and it would stay that way, they hoped. for the rest of their lives.

#spiderman #tom holland x reader #tom holland #peter parker #peter parker x you #um follow??

[gogotti]

hey!! first off, your writing is just *chef's kiss*, i love it!!!

could i pretty please request smutty michael myers (og or rz) with an afab reader who is kinda silly, snarky, very much a funny friend/class clown type personality, and who likes egging him on and taunting him because they love when he's extra rough with them? they're just a wee bit of a brat who likes being scared and wants to be put in their place. tyyyy 💗🥺

First, thank you so much!! You are the first *chef's kiss* I've ever got so this made me very happy!!! I chose RZ for this because bark bark lmfaooo but I hope you enjoy it! I don't know if I interpreted this the right way so if I didn't I'm sorry, you are more than welcome to try again! ;) I did it half hc's and half fic cause I HAD to write the smutty part out.

and if you'd like to see more Michael Myers I have a few other fics!!

Michael Myers/Reader - NSFW

Warnings: none really, readers being silly goofy and fucking with Michael, Michael chokes you, Michael gets to cum but you don't :( I'm trying something new and using the word "cunt" instead of "pussy" so that's in there too

Messing with Michael was by far your favorite activity. 

Michael’s minding his business, sitting in his art room making masks, and you? You’ve been tearing small pieces of paper from the notepad at your side and trying to get one to land in his ear.

Michael’s trying to peacefully watch a movie and you're in the other room with the remote, turning it on and off to fuck with him and making him think he’s sitting on it

Every time he would huff and grunt at you, you would playfully do it back, effectively making any communication impossible. And earning you a warning growl when you passed the 5-minute mark

(Which was 3 minutes longer than Michael would have normally tolerated, so you saw it as a win)

Earlier you managed to find his candy stash, which he very much prided himself on hiding from you, and decided to parade around the house with his last remaining Hersey bar. You weren’t gonna eat it, of course, you were going to let him think you were.

The look on his face, which for once was one that you couldn't decipher, made chills go down your spine, and as Michael passed by you couldn't help but cower slightly.

You literally ran back to his stash and put it back. You also made a note to yourself to buy him more, just in case.

You even went as far as hiding his jumpsuit, which looking back at the situation from your standpoint now, was the best and maybe, possibly, the worst decision you’ve made yet.

It was obvious Michael wanted to go out tonight, his patience had been worn thin since he woke up and you were, intentionally, the cause of it. You were sitting comfortably in the center of your shared bed, watching and grinning every time Michael turned his back to you as he paced the room, desperately trying to remember where he last put his jumpsuit. You had been silent until this point, wanting Michael to simmer in his frustration a bit longer before you offered nothing but a witty comment to aggravate him further.

Your eyes swept around the room slowly, eventually settling on the closet he tore apart in his search. His jumpsuit sat comfortably under his pillow, folded as flat as you could get it in a fit of giggles, so Michael’s fit of destruction was very unnecessary, as well as a fitting punishment for you to deal with later. You glanced at Michal again, who stood silently across from you. “Michael, maybe you missed something in the clo-..!”

Michael rushed at you suddenly, you didn't have time to avoid the crushing fist that clamped around your neck; your sputtering and grabbing at Michael’s hand did not stop him from pushing you back against the headboard and knocking the wind out of you. As you struggled to breathe Michael stood above you, blue eyes staring down with less than violent intentions, surprisingly. His eyes were settled on his jumpsuit, folded and tossed haphazardly under his pillow, which had been tossed to the side in his fit. He knew that you were the one who put it there, so his eyes shot to you, and he huffed at your struggle to look innocent. “Oh… It’s under your pillow, Michael…” You looked at him cautiously before moving to pick it up and mindlessly wipe and mess with it. “Hm… wonder how it got there… I could’ve sworn-!!”

Again, Michael grabbed at your throat, only this time he kept you suspended. He quickly swiped everything but a single pillow off of the bed, tossing you down, and roughly flipping you over when you landed. It was much easier to let him toss you around, so you didn't bother moving; instead, you settled into your spot, quickly getting comfortable underneath him, a cocky grin forming on your face that you were glad Michael wasn't paying attention too. The sound of the nightstand being rummaged through grabbed your attention, and you could only turn your head slightly before he roughly grabbed your hair, shoving you into the pillow below you. You moaned into the pillow at the grip he had on your hair, just barely able to hear Michael’s huff from above you. The sudden noise of Michael tossing something onto the dresser drew your attention again, and only now could you hear the wet noises coming from Michael. 

He took his hand off of your head and slipped it underneath you, scooping you up slightly and moving around a bit before placing his cock between your thighs, close enough so the tip could bump against your cunt. You hummed as you felt Michael begin to move, placing you down and beginning to thrust slowly. His cock brushed against your clit deliciously, and your body immedietly melted at the feeling, soft breaths and moans spilling from your mouth as Michael rocked slowly above you. Michael shifted, the bed dipping on your sides slightly, and you quickly assumed he was adjusting, only to have your hair pulled roughly, your head flying back so you could see Michael perfectly. He quickly let go of your hair, now reaching for your throat and grabbing harshly. He placed his other hand on your hip, squeezing a bruise into your side as he began to thrust faster. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, and high-pitched whines and moans poured from your hanging jaw, unable to close because of the brutal pleasure Michael was putting you through. 

His cock rammed into your clit, the feeling making your cunt clench around nothing and drawing a loud plea from your mouth. “Michael, please, I want you inside!” You whined loudly as Michael huffed and continued to roughly fuck your thighs, seemingly ignoring your plea. A yelp left your mouth as Michael slightly slowed for a moment to thrust himself into your cunt, grunting at the feeling of your walls clenching down onto his cock, and continuing his brutal pace. The stretch of Michael suddenly entering you was painful, but each rough thrust sent a shock of pleasure through you that made you bite into your lip in order to keep yourself grounded. It wasn't long before you felt the familiar pull of an orgasm begin to form in your core, and you could tell Michael was getting closer too, his thrusts began to get rougher and sloppier. You needed more, but whining and pleading for Michael to do literally anything to finally make you cum seemed useless since Michael wasn’t paying any attention to you. You could feel Micheal's hips stutter and slow as he thrust himself balls deep, filling your cunt. 

You whined as Michael slowed, and that feeling in your core began to fade until you were right back where you started: desperately needing Michael to rail you. He slowly pulled out and your eyes widened, “You're not done, are you?”

Michael of course didn't respond, instead, you watched as he got off of the bed and snatched his jumpsuit off of the floor, carelessly walking into the bathroom as you stared at him in shock. He came out of the bathroom shortly after, immediately turning toward the door to leave causing you to sit up quickly, speaking loud enough to get his attention.

“What if I said I’m sorry?”

#rz michael myers #michael myers #michael myers x y/n #michael myers x you #rob zombie michael myers #michael myers x reader

[betweenujb]

acquainted

ceo!momo x supermodel!sana

warnings: smut, dom/sub, posessive momo, implied overstimulation

Momo had just finished closing one of the biggest deals of the year for her company when she felt her phone buzz in her pocket. She had silenced all her notifications except ones from Sana, and her wife knew that she was in a meeting so it must have been important. Excusing herself, she checked her phone only to see a text that sent her blood pressure through the roof.

sweet girl: i know you're busy with a meeting baby but one of the models is getting a little handsy with me

lover: no, sweetheart. it's not a problem at all. i'll be there in five minutes

The words that Momo typed out were loving and full of nothing but care for her wife, but inside she felt like she was going to explode. Every person who worked with Sana and every person who worked for Momo, all the way down to the cleaning people, knew that her wife was off limits.

Momo was beyond pissed and every single person at the photo shoot site knew it. The second the doors flung open and the people on the site turned their heads, it went silent. With every step Momo took, it felt like a dark cloud was descending on them, the woman's heels reverberating in through the room.

Momo's eyes scanned the male model's faces, jaw clenched. Usually, she had no issue with the male models. They knew to keep their hands to themselves, and they knew the consequences if they didn't. Usually, they didn't have a death wish.

Maybe I'm being too lenient, Momo thought as her sight homed in on the one who was harassing her precious Sana. The bastard who was touching Sana only moments ago still had a smirk on his face that Momo wanted to smack into next week. She pushed her way past the other models and stood centimeters away from him.

Being short didn't stop Momo. In fact, it made her feel even more powerful. Seeing six-foot-tall men cower under her look let her know she was the one calling the shots.

Momo grabbed the model's tie and pulled him down to her level aggressively enough that he stumbled. Her eyes were almost black with rage as she leaned in and whispered, voice barely audible. "If you aren't out of this building in the next 20 seconds, I will make your life a living hell. If you ever touch my wife again, I will make sure you go home in a fucking body bag."

This was all the warning the model needed. In 10 seconds, he bolted out of the building, barely grabbing the bag he brought with him. Momo took a deep breath, only turning around to face Sana once she saw the door slam behind him.

Like a switch had flipped, Momo's expression was gentle again. Her hands were gentle as she wrapped them around Sana's waist. She gave her a quick kiss before walking to one of the chairs behind the studio lights. With the snap of her fingers, the camera crew was back to work.

Fortunately, the rest of Momo's work for the day involved phone calls to other fashion CEOs and modeling agents. She'd be damned if she left Sana's photoshoot before she was done.

+

"Sweetheart do you know who that dumb fucker worked for?" Momo asked, monotone as she tapped her finger against the steering wheel.

Sana glanced up from her phone, looking up at the roof of their car as she wracked her brain for a company name. "I think he worked for some small sub-company under Dior or something like that."

Momo silently nodded and took Sana's free hand in hers. She intertwined their fingers and placed a gentle kiss on the back of Sana's hand. "I'll make sure to have a word with his agent."

The slightly aggravated tone in Momo's voice caused Sana to blush a bit. She had always been susceptible to Momo's controlling and protective nature. Whether it was firing someone because they forgot her sweet girl's coffee or practically wiping them off the face of the earth because they accidentally brushed against her ass, it caused Sana's nerves to go haywire.

Deciding to see how far she could push Momo before they got home, Sana leaned over the center console, her dress revealing enough that Sana's lacy bra was peeking out from underneath. She put on her pout that she knew had Momo wrapped around her finger and brought their hands up to her lips.

"I tried to tell everyone on the set what he was doing," a small kiss to the tips of Momo's fingers, "but they didn't seem to care. They were too busy telling me to pose better," the flat of her tongue pressing against Momo's index finger, "and they wouldn't do anything about him, so I just let him keep going."

Sana's words dug their way into Momo's brain. Her wife knew what she was doing and even if nothing she said was true, it still made her grip the steering wheel until her knuckles were white. She glanced at Sana, that oh so fake innocence written across her face making her fold fast.

Momo pulled her hand out of Sana's grasp and grabbed her face, fingers digging into her cheeks. "If I knew you wanted to be such a slut then maybe I should have just left you to deal with him alone."

Sana gulped. She knew that it was only an empty threat, but it was enough to make her desperate for more. It wasn't often that Momo would get rough with her, but when she did, it made her see stars every single time.

+

They barely made it through the doors of the penthouse before Momo picked Sana up in her arms, slamming her against the wall in the entryway. Momo's hands on Sana's hips were almost bruising, her grip was so tight. She leaned up to Sana's ear, breath hot and low as she muttered, "You're not going to be thinking of anything but me and my name once I'm done with you, sweetheart."

Sweetheart. Just with one simple name, Sana was putty in Momo's hands. Momo's to play with and fuck until she could barely walk in the morning. But that wasn't Momo's problem. Especially not when her wife decided to tease her like that in the car.

"Momo please..." Sana gasped out as Momo's hand bunched her wife's dress up, hand dipping into her panties. Momo didn't care that it was a $5,000 dress. She could just get Sana a brand new one with the wave of her hand.

Sana's breath hitched as the heel of Momo's hand pressed against her clit. It was providing her with just enough pressure to have her squirming in her wife's arms.

Not wanting to drop her to the ground, Momo set Sana down and immediately dragged her to their large bedroom. She aggressively picked her wife up, throwing her in the middle of their king-sized bed. Momo almost lost her composure seeing Sana's dress ride up, revealing the large wet spot on her wife's panties.

The lust in her eyes and the need to prove she was better than that bastard could ever be, Momo wasted no time in taking her clothes off. She threw her suit jacket, shirt, and tie behind her, leaving her in just her pants.

Sana's mouth watered at the sight as Momo stalked over to the edge of the bed and crawled up to where she was. Sana tried to reach her hand out to touch any part of Momo's bare skin she could. Her hands only had the chance to ghost over Momo's toned abs though as her wife grabbed her wrists, pinning them above her head.

"You really want me that bad, sweetheart? You sure you don't want that bastard touching you earlier to keep going?" Momo's voice was thick with desire. She wanted Sana as much as her wife wanted her, but she couldn't let her movements falter.

Sana vigorously shook her head, doe eyes staring up into Momo's dark ones. "No, Momo. Only you. Need you inside of me!"

"What's the magic word, sweet girl?" Momo's fingers brushed over her panties, applying the lightest amount of pressure to her swollen clit.

"P-please! Please Momo!"

"Was that so bad, sweetheart?" Momo asked, not giving Sana even a second to answer before she plunged two fingers deep into her wife's tight, wet heat.

Sana's body jerked as her hips thrusted into Momo's hand. The slight sting of being stretched so suddenly was just what she needed. "Oh, fuck!"

The smirk on Momo's face barely hid the amount of pleasure she was getting just from having her fingers inside of Sana. The way her fingers were being squeezed and sucked in, Sana's body was desperate for more.

"Barely even touched you yet and you're already so loud, baby." Momo let Sana's hands go, but Sana knew better than to move them from the headboard. She bucked her hips up into Momo's hand, the sheer force of Momo's fingers plunging in and out of her enough to make her dizzy already.

Momo pulled the top of Sana's dress down further, the fabric ripping more and more with each harsh tug until Sana's breasts spilled out. "What a slut. Barely even wearing a bra." Momo shook her head and leaned down, gently biting and sucking the stiff nipples through the thin lace.

Sana's body was on fire, her moaning only growing louder as Momo pushed a third finger into her. It was taking everything in her to not reach down and claw at Momo's back to release some pressure, but she knew that if she did, Momo would never let her cum.

Momo's fingers were thrusting in and out at a furious pace, her thumb pressing against Sana's clit. "Whose pussy is this, baby? Is it that dumb motherfucker's?"

Momo and Sana both knew the answer to such an oh-so-obvious question, but Momo needed to hear Sana. Needed to hear the whines and moans she let out as she fucked into her sweet girl.

"Only yours, Momo! Your pussy!" Sana's face was a shade brighter as she barely got her words out in between Momo's thrusts. That little coil in the pit of her stomach was getting tighter and tighter and she knew she wasn't going to last much longer.

"That's right, sweetheart. My pussy. Mine to fuck and fill up." The lewd, wet noises of her fingers pumping in and out of Sana combined with Sana's ear-piercing moans were almost enough for Momo to go over the edge herself. But this wasn't about her. It was about making Sana cum over and over again until she learned her lesson.

"Momo! Gonna- so close!" Sana could barely keep her eyes open as the coil in her stomach got tighter and tighter.

"That's it, sweet girl. Cum for me." Momo's voice was much softer as pulled Sana’s excuse for a bra off to lick and suck on her breasts.

The combined sensations were too much and quickly, Momo's fingers were being squeezed to death, Sana's cum flooding out of her and covering her wife's fingers as she screamed her wife's name over and over again. "Momo! Momo! Momo!"

Sana's breathing was labored as she closed her eyes, her body shaking as Momo's fingers gently pumped in and out of her. She felt like she'd just been shot out of a cannon and when she felt Momo's fingers leave her, she thought that was it.

When Sana felt the flat of Momo's tongue against her sensitive clit, her breath caught in her throat, hands flying to tangle into Momo's hair. "F-fuck. Can't. No more."

Momo just shook her head, replacing her mouth with her thumb as she looked up to Sana, her eyes dark with greed and a sweet smile plastered to her face. "This is what you wanted so bad, baby. You're gonna cum for me as many times as I want like the little slut you are."

#twice smut #twice #twice imagines #sana #momo #kpop smut #girl group smut #sana x momo #minatozaki sana #hirai momo #gg smut

[thenightfolknetwork]

Turning isn't fun for me. I don't know if it's my particular strain of lycanthropy or if it's just me, but it hurts... a lot. It's really inconvenient.

I can feel the full moon deep in my bones. I've heard others describe it like a buzzing energy, a pinch in your center, or ah, I don't know a restlessness, maybe? It's annoying and a pain to deal with, but ultimately, nothing completely life altering. It's not like that for me.

For me, the moon is a constant ache that grows worse as the month advances. I can feel my bones grinding, twisting, and shuffling around. I've had to make a chart on what times of the month certain foods are dangerous for me to eat because the closer I get to the full, the more canine my insides are.

Now, my pack is incredibly supportive in all this. We've gone to doctors, witches, the fae, you name it, to try and find a way to cope. So far, we can't pin what's wrong, but we've found a way to manage my pain to be somewhat tolerable. My pack is not the problem. My problem is Debbie.

Debbie is a wolf shifter. While her change is influenced by the moon, she has conscious control over when she can shift, and by her own admission, it's virtually painless. She is also my only coworker connected to the community.

It was fine for a while. I thought we'd hit it off. As the only two people of the night, we could support each other like no one else in the job could. We'd trade jokes, cover each other's shifts at work when we weren't scheduled the same day, or just talk. I considered her a friend, or maybe more than, and even talked about introducing my pack to her.

The thing is, due to the nature of my condition, I have to take three days off a month. For years, this set up as been fine. Sure, I get a little less time off than everyone, but I love my job, and it's not like i can really go anywhere, so I don't consider it much of a loss.

But last month, my time off was denied. They wouldn't accept it. I asked if there was anything I could do to get it off, another sick note or something, but they said that they had "investigated" my condition and confirmed with someone else in the community that I was overexaggerating my symptoms. They told me they would let me off with a warning because of my track record, but not to make it a habit.

I was crushed. One of the reasons I love my job is because of their leniency. Without it, I would get burnt out and possibly aggravate my condition.

I told Debbie what happened. It was partly to see if she could cover my shift, but also to warn her to be vigilant and protect herself in case something similar happened to her. It turns out, SHE was the one that claimed my symptoms were overexaggerated! This whole time, she thought I was making out my condition as worse than it is. Her packmates don't have my problems, so clearly I'm just trying weasel in some paid time off.

I was so, so angry. I shouldn't have yelled, but my pain, both mind and body, was excruciating, and I couldn't take it anymore. I think I got the point across, though. By the time one of my packmates came to pick me up, she looked absolutely wrecked.

It's been a month and we haven't spoken outside of work related things. I'm currently looking for a new job because even with paid time off, my condition is slowly eating into it. Plus, I have a life outside of my job and would like to spend time with my pack.

But I don't want to leave Debbie on a sour note. I might not trust her like I used to, but she was a friend. With me leaving, She'll be the only person of the night in the job. I feel guilty leaving her by herself.

So, how do I approach this? She broke my trust, but we have too much history for me to feel comfortable leaving without saying anything.

How can I talk to her without getting hurt? Is that even possible anymore?

I'll get to the final part of your question in just a moment, reader. First, I want to address some of the issues you've raised about your workplace.

You say that, because you take three sick days a month, you get less holiday than your co-workers. From this, I am inferring that you are taking these days off as holiday rather than sick leave. Which raises a great many questions about their refusal to grant you leave on the grounds of this so-called “investigation” of your condition.

Your employer is entitled to refuse you leave, but they can only turn down those requests on reasonable grounds, and they cannot refuse to give you your leave entirely. This refusal does not seem to be made on the grounds of any clear business grounds – they haven't cited understaffing as the reason, for example.

In fact, any business concerns they might cite are clearly unsubstantiated. You've been working there for years, with no evidence at all that this time off has affected the business. And if they have no business grounds on which to refuse you, you're entitled to take that time off as you wish.

Instead, your employers have refused you on the grounds of their so-called “investigation” of your health condition, thereby treating your holiday leave as sick leave. If this time off is sick leave, they need to do far more than asking the opinion of some random person of the night. To deny you sick leave, they must conduct a proper investigation into your condition and take the actual medical evidence into account.

There is a wealth of medical evidence that somatic transformation is a radically varied phenomenon, and chronic, painful transformations are well-documented as a real medical concern. This is not to mention the evidence you've accrued over the years of your own efforts to find treatment for your condition.

In short, they have no grounds to refuse you this time off. If you really don't want to leave that place of work, you need to stand your ground and push for the leave you're entitled to. Speak to your manager, and make it clear that you know your rights and are willing to escalate the matter as necessary to see that those rights are respected.

I also strongly recommend you speak to this manager about the obvious lack of professionalism shown by discussing your private medical issues with another employee. As well as being a violation of your privacy, it's also demonstrates an appalling lack of respect for liminal identities and the diversity of experiences within the community.

In short, reader, put the fear of God into them. With any luck, you'll be able to keep your job and your time off, and find the balance you need to manage your condition in a healthy, sustainable way.

As for Debbie, that's really up to you. You say you don't know how to speak to her without getting hurt, but that's not something you can control. There is nothing you can do to ensure she won't say something at best thoughtless, and at worst, actively hurtful. All you can do is brace yourself for the possibility, and plan for how you can look after yourself if she does end up hurting you.

To be frank, however, I'm not sure she deserves it. She's undermined your trust and forsaken any right to your time and energy. Talk to her if you really want to, but I think you'd be well within your rights to draw a line under that relationship and concentrate on relationships that centre respect and mutual care – or at the very least, a modicum of solidarity.

#answered #the nightfolk network #monstrous agonies #aaah the nightfolk network #come for the relationship angst #stay for the workers rights

[starlightsearches]

For the kinky prompts could you do 15 with steve x reader x Eddie, with 10, 17 & 19? Pretty please. 🥺🙏

Heartless

cockwarming / degradation kink / praise kink

Thanks for the request friend!! I started this trying to get out of a bit of a writing slump, and I hope you enjoy!! comments and reblogs give me life!!

Steve Harrington x Femme! Reader x Eddie Munson

Warnings: language, characters a little ooc but only when it's hot, mean! steve and soft! eddie, no plot just vibes, spit as lube, no protection, cockwarming, degradation, praise kink, mean and nice nicknames, fingering (f), oral sex (m), it's not very long but i'm trying.

"I thought I told you to stay fucking still."

Steve's got mean hands. Big, harsh fingers and a disappointed sneer and an angry, red cock jutting out from his zipper—still covered in your spit—but his hands are the meanest part about him. He's squeezing at your jaw until the blood's flushed from your skin, hard enough you hear something pop.

"Can you do that? Can you stay fucking still?"

God, he's fucking pretty. Even through the tears in your eyes. Even when he's angry at you.

Steve drops his hand from your face with a scoff, like he can hear what you're thinking about him and he’s not impressed, standing with his hands on his hips. "Look at her, Jesus. Dumb slut can't even respond."

"Take it easy on her, Harrington."

Eddie's chest rumbles against your back, and his hands are gentle, brushing at your sweaty hair. You'd never guess he'd be the softer one of the two—not with the way he dressed, the jacket and the chains and the rings—but god damn do you feel lucky you got far enough to find out.

"She just wants to cum, don't ya, pretty girl?"

The tips of his fingers press against the bruises Steve left, and your breath catches at the sting no matter how gentle he tries to be. Eddie turns your face towards his until you're looking into his moonlit eyes, at his soft pink lips.

You nod, and maybe you'd like to say something if it wasn't for the burn between your thighs that Eddie goes out of his way to aggravate—bouncing his hips up into yours until you can practically feel every ridge and vein of his cock through his tight-ass jeans.

"You wanna cum on my cock, baby?"

Thumb on your lips, you taste his skin when you speak—he feels your words more than he hears them.

"Please, Eddie."

"Hey," Steve's interruption makes you jump, "that wasn't the deal we made, sweetheart."

He plants one hand on the couch cushion behind you, his other hand lazily stroking at his cock, the little white beads pooling at his slit making your mouth water. It's too easy for him to bully you, the solid weight of him so close and so heavy you'd give him whatever he wants. Even if it means you leave empty-handed.

"You're here to make us cum. I don't give a fuck if you get off or not."

There's a whine on your lips that Eddie tries to hush. kissing softly at your neck.

"God damn, you're heartless," he's talking to Steve now, but you're not really listening, not with the way one of his hands strokes over the damp material of your t-shirt, "we can give her a little taste."

His fingers stop just below your breast, the edge of his thumb brushing over your peaked nipple. Your lungs empty, breath catching on the way back in as he rolls the tender flesh between the tips of his fingers.

"God, you're pretty baby," he whispers, wetting his lips to a shine with his tongue, "how ‘bout you keep me warm while you take care of Stevie?"

"Mhm," you hum your assent, lifting your hips so he can pop the button on your shorts with the hand not massaging at your tits.

"Whatever, just make it quick."

Steve feigns annoyance, but even in your current haze you can see right through that with the way he strokes his cock faster, watching hungrily as you writhe against Eddie's warm body. His free hand is there at your hip, nails scraping against the skin of your thighs as Eddie pulls down the denim on the other side until the shorts hang from your legs and there's chill air at your dripping hole.

"Jesus, baby," Eddie coos, petting at the dark spot on your pastel cotton underwear, finger circling right at the place where your swollen clit sticks to the fabric.

"God damn, I knew you were a slut." Steve's on his knees, shoving your thighs further apart with his wide shoulders just so he can get a better look, "Isn't that right? Little slut with a drooling pussy."

"Yeah," you say, but there's not much you wouldn't agree to at this point, heart pounding and starved for cock.

Eddie slips his own hands down to his zipper, and Steve takes over where he left off—three mean fingers prodding at your cunt until he can see the definition of your puffy lips and weeping slit through the cotton, the fabric biting at your skin where it slips tighter between your ass cheeks.

Steve stops moving his fingers, eyes on yours. "Then say it. Say you're a slut."

"God,"—he shocks the words out of you with his thumb harsh against your clit—"I'm- I'm a slut."

And that makes him smile.

"Don't listen to him, gorgeous," Eddie pulls you tight against his chest again, letting your hips rest against his, "he's just jealous that you like me better. Now, let's see that pretty pussy."

One of Eddie's thick fingers sneaks between your leg and the fabric, sliding the sticky, wet crotch of your panties to the side, brushing past your lips with a swipe of his middle finger.

"You already feel so fucking tight, sweetheart. You think you can take me?"

His cock glides between your folds, collecting your sticky spend and getting your whole body tight when the tip nudges against your clit.

"I dunno, Eds, I think she might need a little help."

Steve leans in closer, looking at you with total fuck-me eyes as a shining glob of spit dripping from his lips, cold enough to make you jump when lands against the cleft of your pussy, oozing slowly over your skin until it spreads, thick and bubbling, on the shaft of Eddie's cock.

"That oughta do it."

And then the fucker winks at you.

Eddie’s sucking bruises onto your skin as he slides the head of his cock inside you, pressing further and further until you've forgotten what it feels like to be empty.

"Better, princess?" he asks. You can hardly answer, not with the way he fills you, and the soft pressure of his fingers on your clit.

"Fuck, you're squeezing me so good, baby. Let's see if you can't make Steve feel this nice, huh?"

Steve stands, fingers curling around the back of your neck, sending a pain through your spine when he yanks your parted lips down over the tip of his cock.

The sarcasm in his voice is only slightly tempered by the way you hollow your cheeks around him, salty pre-cum melting on your tongue.

"Alright, princess. Let's try this again."

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader x eddie munson #eddie munson x reader x steve harrington #eddie munson smut #steve harrington smut #my writing #requests #minors dni

[amuhav]

1, 2, 3, 5, 13, 23 for E T H E T H

What memory would your OC rather just forget?

I think Eth is second only to Iskaeya when it comes to the privilege of not experiencing too many outright negative memories. He was born not that long after his mother's taking the throne, or not long into his parents' marriage. An only child long enough to have a loving childhood with both parents, with their full devotion, in which he watched and admired as they took a grieving and fractured kingdom and brought it back into the era of complacency it now enjoys. He's also very pragmatic, so he's not the type to believe in "forgetting" uncomfortable truths. To deal with the reality set before you. So even the eventual disillusionment of realising his parents aren't perfect, or the knowledge he will never be either of their favourites... those are things he's taken in stride.

What's something about your OC that people wouldn't expect just from looking at them?

I dunno, a lot of Eth is very on the surface lmao. He's as prideful as he appears, if not more so. He's logical, efficient, and unidealistic. He's extremely unromantic lmao. He has an immaculate level of control over his temper and it would take something monumental to provoke it. He doesn't suffer fools easily, nor incompetence. That said. He isn't quite as cold as he appears. He can be softer in the comfort of privacy, and he deeply cares about the future of his people. He's not a diehard traditionalist, in fact he abhors traditions that lay in the way of progress. And he's not purposely cruel. Contrary to Tay's assumptions, Eth doesn't actually hate either of his brothers, not really. They just... kinda both unfortunately fall into the categories of "fool" or "incompetent" sksksksk oop. If anything, he's actually harsher with Ailos, because he really finds him aggravating in personality and behaviour, and Eth has to constantly clear up his messes. Whereas he and Tay are so far removed from each other that Tay is almost nothing to him, except a thing he doesn't really know how to deal with. They're too far apart in age to have ever had a chance to connect while Tay was young, and too far apart in the social hierarchy to do so now. Kae won't let Eth or anybody else give Tay a purpose, and so to Eth, he just kind of... exists... troublesomely. Over there. Making problems for their parents. With not a whole lot he can do about it.

What is your OC's fatal flaw? Are they aware of this flaw?

Flaw? EXCUSE YOU?? FLAW?? the fucking AUDACITY. Eth is perfect, you monster. Okay. lmao. With that out of the way. As I said, he's very unidealistic and unromantic, especially on a personal level, and he doesn't really respect understand those who won't see things the same way. He sees his father as lacking a backbone in not standing his ground, but he also doesn't understand why Qariel "coddles" Tay either. He sees Ailos as hedonistic with no real interest in understanding why he acts the way he does, why he doesn't just grow out of it and settle down into an advantageous marriage, as should be expected of him. He thinks his mother was naïve in her "mistake" of refusing to arrange any marriages for her children, for promising them all self-determination in that regard. Though he recognises Kae's pathological need to keep Tay "safe" hasn't helped him, he still thinks Tay has never really tried to step up to his role as a royal, that he could do so if he had any strength of character. Eth is just... not much of a nuance guy when it comes to sentiment or sympathy. And he knows this about himself... I'm just not sure he sees it as a flaw lmao. But when any plans fall apart because people are fundamentally people and react with emotion and not logic, he often gets blindsided.

How far is your OC willing to go to get what they want?

Hm. He's never really had to want for anything. His ambition is to be a good king when his time comes, but he's patient and isn't the type to play dirty. He has principles he wouldn't betray simply to "win". Stemming from that unromantic and unsentimental personality, though, there are things he's willing to do or put aside for the sake of "the greater good" that others might not. Marry for politics and not for love, for example. And yet, as infuriating as he finds Ailos, however pesky Eilayna is, or even as much as a burden as he might see Tay as, he has no intention of seeing them hurt or disowned, and has in fact been doing all he can to stop that in Ailos' case. Like, he's not willing to screw innocent people over just to get ahead. At least, not in ways he would consider screwing them over...

If you met your OC, would the two of you get along?

LOL HELP. I don't even know if that would be an option. Eth would just walk past me like I was entirely non-existent, maybe a mote of dust at best. Like. MAYBE assuming I was worthy and important enough to be equal in his company... Honestly probably not lmao. I don't deal well with people who are either too uptight or too sure of their own superiority over everyone else, and I would either be too much of an awkward turtle to even have the courage to talk to him, or be far too chaotic and annoying for him lmao.

What emotion is the hardest for your OC to process? How about express?

wcif emotions. lmao. I half joke but... Eth doesn't really express many emotions outwardly, but he also doesn't really get all that emotional in general lol. He doesn't really get upset, nor angry just... annoyed and stressed and then gets on with it. He doesn't dwell on happiness, just the satisfaction of a job well done, or the enjoyment of personal pursuits. Though there was a time when he had to wonder if infant Tay might be a threat to him politically, he's not the type to dwell on jealousy either. He's not unfeeling. It's not that he struggles to process emotions, either, it's just that he handles them very logically, or simply doesn't acknowledge them. I suppose love? Eth doesn't really have much of an understanding of it, even though he was shown it unconditionally as a child. By his standards he does love his family, otherwise, he simply wouldn't care about them. It's just not something quantifiable he can put his finger on, nor something he consciously factors into his decisions.

#ask my characters #Ethryon Eth'salin #crown prince leo #me: I don't deserve to be in his presence #also me: nah he'd grate on me to hell and back #lmao #like I'm okay with self-assurance and even arrogance to a point #but it's the 'I'm better than everyone and I know it' that I think would get me

[lumi-cake]

Protect? Mattheo & Theo x Fem! Reader

Y/N was in the Slytherin common room attending a party. A group stops you on your way to meet Theo and offers you an alcoholic drink. Even though you've never been a big drinker, you took a sip, squinting at the potency. You weren't exactly feeling like drinking, but the group persisted in encouraging you to do so. When Mattheo sees this, he approaches you, takes your arm, and pulls you away from them. His voice is sharp as he asks, "What are you doing?" Gazing into his eyes, you respond, "I was going to meet Theo for a project we are working on." "You were drinking, your done drinking" he demands. You say, "I had a few sips, Mattheo, it wasn't anything," as his hold on your wrist becomes more firm. He says in a serious tone, "You don't drink, and I don't like those people encouraging you to do something you don't like." As soon as you meet his eyes, you respond, "Stop talking to me like I am a child." He says, "I will treat you like an adult when you start acting like one." "You're hurting me," you try to free yourself from his hold after a few minutes of silence. Mattheo stops for a second, his eyes meeting yours with a mix of worry and annoyance. He can't help but feel protective of you, but after he hesitates a little, he lets go of you. "I am sorry i didn't mean to be rough with you, my concern is just making me a little overprotective.." He notices the red stain from grabbing you on your wrist when he looks down. "I feel awful... I should of never grabbed you like that, I'm sorry," he says, his heart pounding.You hold back tears as you look away from the party. "It's fine..." At a loss for words, he shakes his head. You turn and head back toward where you were supposed to meet Theo, saying, "I need to go." "Y/N...." Out of concern for hurting you, Mattheo begins but ultimately chooses to let you go. With a sigh, he wants to hit something.

When you walk into Theo's dorm room, he's reading a book. He pauses when he sees your face, which is marred by tears. "There you are I was." He stands up fast and approaches you, asking, "What happened?" "I'm alright," you mumble."You are not fine" he says gently lifting your chin up by the jaw to meet your eyes, He wipes the tears away from your cheek as his voice softens "Look at me, What happened?" "It was just a misunderstanding" you mumble out. "You are in tears and that doesn't even begin to explain this" He reaches for your hand and brushes the sleeve of your robes so he can examine the red marks on your wrist. You try to hide your wrist but he doesn't allow you too. "Who did this to you?". You shake your head as the tears begin again. "Who?" Theo says again. "You already know don't make me say it.." you begin to choke on your words. "It's Mattheo isn't it?" he looks into your eyes. You nod. He gets irritated as he looks around. "Stop Theo" you say pulling your wrist back from him. "Stop? What do you mean stop?" his voice raises slightly "Stop what? Stop making a big deal over this? Stop protecting you?". You look away with a hurt look in your eyes. "I just want you to be safe. But I can't protect you if you don't let me in.. please". "He didn't mean it" you say with emotion. "He never means it but he also never learns from his mistakes. And now you have been hurt. It's to far." You turn to look at him again "He just let his emotions get the better of him Theo.." Theo huffs "His emotions get the better of him too many times when it comes to you it has to stop"

Almost as if on que Mattheo walks in "I needed to come make sure you are okay" Mattheo says. Theo steps between them "How dare you touch y/n like that, you should be ashamed of yourself" Theo states. Mattheo sighs " I apologized, my emotions got out of control okay and I am sorry I am sorry y/n" Theo looks more aggravated. "Sorry? really that's it?"

"I just...I just want to protect her"

"Protect her? by hurting her?"

"It was an accident!"

"An accident? It was an obvious result of your inability to control your anger"

Theo puts his fingers to the bridge of his nose. "Do you love her?"

Mattheo is taken back by the sudden question but decides to answer it honestly. "Yes"

The steps up closer to Mattheo "Then I dare you to look me in the eye and tell me that this...this behavior is love because I am pretty sure its not!"

"I told you I was protecting her!" Mattheo's voice rasises

"From what? Her own free will? Or are you afraid other people will take her away from you?"

"What?? NO none of that!"

"Then what!"

"She was hanging around people who were not good for her and I was..." he stops himself

"That is hardly a justification for hurting her Mattheo, and I can't even believe I have to explain that to you. She didn't ask you to protect her, you took it upon yourself!"

Theos words cut deep, Mattheo glanced between you and Theo as they continued to talk.

"Have you ever stopped to think for one moment that she can look after herself? And what she feels when you swoop in and try to take control of her life?"

Mattheo can't hide his anger as soon as he hears the world 'control'

"It is NOT control!"

"It is! you need to stop treating her like a child that can't look after herself! You need to let her make her own decisions!"

It is silent as you stand behind Theo watching this all unravel, you knew it would come to this one day but you were dreading it. Theo begins to talk again more softly.

"She's a smart girl, she doesn't need you to coddle her, she can look after herself. And when you swoop in with your so called protection you do nothing but make the situation worse. If she ever needed help I am sure she would come to you but you can't keep hovering over her trying to make all the decisions for her."

Mattheo nods his head "yeah.." is all he seams to mutter. "No your right she would be better off without me anyway" he says stepping back. "No no no no no no" you begin crying as Theo puts his arm up to stop you from going after Mattheo. "You think by leaving that you are making a sacrifice for the sake of her happiness?" Theo asks. Mattheo looks you in the eyes one last time "Goodbye Y/N, because I love you I have to let you go" Mattheo quickly turns away and walks out of the door. You fall to your knees clutching your chest as you cry. "Shhhh shhhh breathe just breathe" Theo tries to calm you as he holds you in his arms.

#hogwarts #slytherin #slytherin boys #theo nott #mattheo riddle

[boffeeceans]

Anyone want me to write some mungrove as gallavich- just kidding I already did it.

CW: mention of dead character (Neil), implied past child abuse (you can never be save enough), mention of murder

"I could've killed him a thousand times over and he dies of a fucking heart attack."

Eddie pauses what he's doing to look over at Billy. He's been listening to Billy cry and complain for hours now, nodding and humming along to whatever he says. He would do more, really, but he's just not that great at dealing with people crying. But Billy's been okay with how Eddie has been dealing with it so far, and Eddie is happy to do it. Even though he doesn't think Neil deserves this amount of grief, the guy was a total asshole and honestly deserved to die. Billy agrees, but his words throw Eddie off just a bit.

"Wait, are you crying because you're pissed of or because you're sad?"

"I don't know, okay? I don't know!"

Eddie sighs and takes a seat on the bed next to Billy, placing a hand on his knee. "He was a dick, Billy, the worst of the worst."

"Don't you think I know that?"

"I know you do, I know you know better than anyone, so aren't you at least a little glad that he's gone?" Eddie tilts his head to meet Billy's eyes. "You're free, Billy, there's no one watching your every move anymore."

Billy blinks a few times, more tears falling from his eyes, but the corner of his mouth quirks up. "Except for you."

"Hey, it's not my fault we somehow have the same friends." Eddie moves a little closer, wipes some of the tears off Billy's cheeks. "Can't help that you're so pretty, either, can't take my eyes off you."

Billy smiles and pulls Eddie in for a kiss. However, the sweet moment and Billy's good mood is short-lived, for his face crumbles and the sobbing returns.

"There, there." Eddie gives Billy a few soft taps on his shoulder. "How about I get us something to drink, huh? Some hot cocoa? Yeah, hot cocoa will make you feel better."

After receiving a short nod from Billy, Eddie walks out of his room and into the kitchen.

"He still going at it?" Wayne asks while Eddie gets the mugs out of the cupboard. Eddie let's the question linger, let's Wayne hear that Billy's crying can easily be heard through the thin walls before giving Wayne a pointed look.

"Right."

He sighs again and places the mugs on the counter. "I love him, I really do, but if this goes on for much longer, I'm gonna start crying."

The sound of a breathy laugh has Eddie tensing. He whips his head towards the door where his dad is leaning against the frame.

"You don't get to laugh. This is your fault."

"Hey, I was just trying to help."

"Help? Really? And you couldn't have done it in a different way, one that doesn't involve murder?"

His dad shrugs and his nonchalance just aggravates Eddie more.

"Y'know, I should just tell him you did it. He'll kill you, and then I don't have to deal with you anymore."

The words hang in the air for a moment, everyone in the room knowing Billy is more than capable of murder, and then, nearly unintelligible, "Please don't."

#mungrove #eddie munson #billy hargrove #mungrove as gallavich #bat writes #now introducing Jesse Munson! #I'll die before I call him Al

[broken-clover]

Anbai and 13: sleep cuddling?

YAAAAAY ANBAI. Unfortunately I think I'm still in the same mode as the last one so this one didn't end up being as fluffy as I would have hoped. I am very curious about what the hell Baiken got up to after she and Anji parted ways in the XX games, must have been kinda fucked up to get used to having him around and then he leaves again.

-

For all her pretenses of hating his smug, obnoxious ass, on rare, very rare, so-rare-it-legally-counted-as-extinct, Baiken knew when to cut her losses and deal with Anji Mito at close range.

Very close range.

Very, very…oh, screw it. 

Yeah, she’d slept with him. Physically, at least. As much flirty bullshit as he was known for, they’d never gotten that far, and if she had her way, they never would. If bounties were lives, then lives weren’t worth much. Enough to refill supplies, just enough to maintain weaponry, and barely enough for a place to sleep. You got six entire walls on good days, an actual bed if you were lucky. What, two separate beds? Those were the fantasies of a rich man.

She endured. They both did. Neither of them were unfamiliar with sleeping on the ground somewhere when the bounties thinned and purse strings tightened. They’d made do in rooms shared with several other people, ones where the rain had no trouble getting inside, ones that reeked of mildew and rot, and ones hardly bigger than a storage locker that mandated pressing against one another for the night. That was just their life. Whether or not they liked it, it didn’t matter. It was necessary.

Baiken didn’t like it. She told herself that over and over again. Nobody could like stuffing themselves into that kind of claustrophobic shitpile, let alone with someone else, even if you knew them well. She didn’t like it, and she didn’t like him, even if sharing space was one of the few comforts she had in life. The idea that someone was suffering along with her. Someone else who was familiar with the life she lived. She didn’t like it. It was just something that softened the aggravation.

Of course he left.

Of course he fucking left.

Without a damn word, without any way to contact him (why would they have had one before, they had never been far apart enough to need one- logistically speaking, it would have been a waste of expenses). All she got was an empty bed and silence. 

Baiken hated him. The only reason she wanted him to show his miserable mug was so she could bash it in with her mace. Anji knew how to make himself hard to find, which was a good thing, because he was a dead man as soon as he got anywhere near her again. He had the gall to force his way into her life, and then the gall to vanish from it.

She thought about him. More than she should have, admittedly, but what else was there to think about? He’d always been the talker. Now there was so much empty space to be filled. She found herself disliking the silence. She still didn’t miss him.

It was just…difficult not to have him come up in her thoughts. Her scowling terrified potential leads, and fear could get results, but Anji’s glib talk got her places that it wouldn’t with threats. Meals were cheaper for a single traveler, but Baiken ate at the counter quietly and immediately left when it was done. There was nothing in between anymore. Hunt. Eat. Sleep. Hunt again. No reason to talk while walking alone. There was nobody to hear it. There was nothing to say.

The bed was all hers. She couldn’t sleep.

Anji had never made sleeping easy. Baiken knew how to sleep like a stone, how to fall asleep where she was and wake up in the same spot. Anji had no such skill. He squirmed at night, almost like another little dance among the rest in his repertoire. If he got too squirmy, she would kick him until it died down. 

Sometimes, when she woke up in the middle of the night, she would find that his hands had found their way over to her. They draped around her shoulders, or one tangled in her hair, or wrapped around her one arm like it was a teddy bear. Aside from the one time she had found it down her shirt, Baiken, incredibly, incredibly reluctantly let his hands stay where they were. They very rarely slept someplace warm, and skin contact was one of the few ways to keep each other warm. If he lent her some body heat, she could do the same.

Baiken woke up in an empty, cold bed. She rolled over, wrapped an arm around herself, and found herself dreaming of warmth.

#frog writes #ask #guilty gear #baiken #anji mito

[ravensmind]

Day 1 - The Bond

Dream Consequences

Pulling up in front of a tall oak tree, Robin cut the engine of his R- Cycle. He took off his helmet and glanced around the otherwise empty parking area, grateful that they would at least be alone for this rendezvous. He had tried to pick a quiet place away from prying eyes, including those of their friends. He breathed in the forest air and got up, gravel crunching under boots as he stood. He showed his helmet in a compartment on his bike before he enabled the R-Cycle's security system. His breathing was calm despite his nerves and he didn't spare the parking area another moment before starting down a dirt trail into the woods. 

Birds chirped all around him as he walked, while rabbits and squirrels dashed through bushes. The sun cut through the green leaves of trees that hung over the path before him. A light breeze created shifting shadows around him. He didn't have too far to go and he was early yet, so he could take his time if he desired. No reason to rush into the awaiting difficult conversation with Raven. He still wasn't sure of what he would say. After all, how do you admit to inspiring constant shared romantic and intimate dreams by way of a magic bond with a close friend you've otherwise never so much as kissed?

It had taken a while for both of them to acknowledge the situation to each other, as they had both thought the dreams were temporary, but it had been two months since they started and there was no end in sight. If anything, the dreams had gotten more intense. Initially, he wanted to discuss things with her in the tower, but they kept getting interrupted or one of their friends would be in proximity. He proposed meeting somewhere relaxing with little chance of being overheard. He came to a fork in the path and went right, then when he came to a sign marking the direction of the lake, he took a deep breath and headed for it. 

He could sense her waiting for him when he tried to reach for her through their bond. She hid her emotions well as always, but she couldn't conceal everything from him, and her anxiety was a sharp, repetitive whistle against the quiet of the day. He took some comfort knowing she was as nervous as he was, but wished he hadn't been the reason. She deserved more than what she was having to deal with and the last thing he wanted to do was to aggravate the nest of her emotions.

Robin put on a smile before he stepped free of the tree-walled path and into the clearing. Raven was sitting on a bench overlooking the dark blue water of the lake under the shade of a large tree, her legs crossed, and an open book in her lap. He approached from her left side and her eyes flicked to look at him before he made it to the bench. 

"Charming spot, secluded, too. Been here before?" Raven asked.

"Yeah, a few times, coming here clears my head when I really need it," Robin replied, as he joined her on the bench.

"I can see why. That said… nooot helping much with this situation," she said, closing her book.

"Not sure what would, but uh, at least it's peaceful and there's no one here but us now," he said.

"No witnesses to hear that you have feelings that didn't revolve around hunting down some criminal, right?" she asked with a smirk.

"None to hear that you might be enjoying the trouble with your own emotions, either," he replied with a smirk of his own.

"Who said I'm enjoying any of this?" she asked, frowning even as the corner of her mouth twitched up for an instant.

"You don't have to hide it, we're as alone as we can be. I uh, just don't know how to start talking about this," he said.

"Neither do I… which is either sad or stupid. There isn't much point in trying to do anything but be honest. I…just wish I'd had the spine to say something sooner, but here we are," she said, looking out over the lake.

The water was as calm and still as the air around them, making Robin feel Raven's presence and emotions more acutely. Her posture was fixed, as if she held herself as rigidly in place as possible. He was having trouble keeping himself from fidgeting with his belt or gloves. She had fallen silent and he was trying to push the words from his lips. At first he hadn't known what she meant, but he could feel it now, without any distractions to interfere with his thoughts. Being alone with her like this made him all at once overly cautious about saying or doing the wrong thing, more observant of her finer features, and he was a breath away from trying to flatter or appease her, anything to make her smile. A connection like theirs was almost impossible and it was bound to affect them in drastic ways, he just didn't think it would mean dreaming of satisfying every heated desire with one another. His feelings went beyond those physical desires and he wanted to ask her out, it just felt strange doing so while they were going through this, but maybe he shouldn't have waited, and he definitely should not continue to wait.

He had to say something first, before she could explain it away or apologize or assume guilt for having created their bond in the first place.

"I like it," Robin blurted.

Raven's eyes darted to focus on him with intensity, her breath catching as she froze next to him.

"You…like what?" Raven asked.

"Dreaming of you, like that. I uh, think it'd be awesome… if they weren't just dreams," Robin replied.

His face felt like it was melting, but he held her gaze and tried not to smile in anticipated excitement at the red that flooded her cheeks.

"I-um, I like it too. Except. I don't know if I can try, my powers being what they are. I'd rather not bring the tower down on us if I lost control doing… that with you. I don't even know if I can kiss someone I have feelings for without losing it," she said.

"Hmm, yeah, that, uh, is a problem. Well… we're not in the tower right now…we're alone, if you felt like trying… the kiss part, anyway,"  he pointed out.

"Clearly I feel like trying. I'd just feel horrible if I hurt you somehow, so I'm…thinking about it," she said, "I need to meditate, either way."

"I get it… take your time. I'm not going anywhere," he said, smiling at her.

Raven nodded and closed her eyes, crossing her legs and levitating a foot above the bench. Robin tried to act like he wasn't there, but his mind and eyes would wander helplessly back to her when pretending to watch a pair of ducks float by on the lake didn't work. He tried to distract himself by taking out his personal phone from his utility belt and going through Jump City news pieces, but that too proved difficult. 

He didn't keep track of how long they stayed silent by the lake, the sun had moved, but wasn't anywhere close to setting. Aside from some birds and ducks and a squirrel or two, nothing had moved or made noise. He tried to remember the last time he had experienced a day like this and couldn't. Criminals in the city kept him either making tracks after them or spinning his wheels on open cases. 

"Okay," Raven said aloud, almost as a whisper.

She returned to the bench and uncrossed her legs before standing. He didn't have a chance to reply before she took his gloved hand and led him from the bench to the water's edge. She wouldn't look at him, even as she turned her body to face his own. Then she took a breath and met his gaze. A breeze picked up and threw a few strands of her hair across her face. She sighed and let go of his hand to deal with it. He caught her hand before it reached her face and brought it down, then brushed the strands of her violet hair back into place. He cupped her cheek in his hand as he stepped closer to her.

"You sure you're ready?" he asked.

"I don't seem to recall you being oh so careful and gentle in any, well, most of our dreams," she replied with a smirk.

"Uh, well, most of those aren't real, this one is," he countered, "but I'll see if I can't make some of the others come true."

"It's sweet. Yes, I'm sure," she said.

Her lips parted and he eagerly pressed his lips to hers, seizing the first moment of what started a deeper, loving, more intense relationship that would satisfy both of them endlessly.

Maybe not every cherished dream of his would come true, but he was eternally grateful that this one had.

#robrae #robraeweek #teen titans #fanfic #robraeweek2023 #robin #raven #robrae week day 1 the bond #fluff