#Expressing my feelings using Medic once again

[fexjam]

CW: GORE

Розбили..

[thethingything]

finally processing that we're probably gonna have to have these teeth removed with either sedation or general anaesthetic and unfortunately I have a phobia of both of these to the point where just thinking about it gives us panic attacks and I genuinely don't know what to do because I absolutely want to avoid this at all costs but we also might not have any other option

[eggyrocks]

35MM CHAPTER TWENTY: pizza time!

track number twenty: fade into you by mazzy star

masterlist

The sun is starting to set when he knocks on the door. The blue dusk reminds him of her. Akaashi sent his psychiatrist an email about upping the dose of his anxiety medication before he left. He rocks on the back of his heels. He’s taking Kuroo’s advice. Or at least, he’s trying to. He overthought everything to death until nothing in his head even held any meaning. His nose is bruised purple, and his chest rises and falls visibly with each heavy intake of breath.

The door opens. For the split second he can see the doorknob turn, he sends a silent prayer that it’s not one of her roommates that answers and, if it is, that it’s not the scary one that slammed his fist into his face. It’s answered. She opens the door.

Her t-shirt hangs loose on her shoulders and sweatpants are low on her hips. She narrows her gaze at the sight of him and Akaashi takes that as not a good sign. And it’s not like she moves to slam the door in his face, but Akaashi doesn’t want to take the risk. He steps forward into her apartment and says. “I like you.”

She steps back, expression sort of unreadable. “What?”

“I like you,” Akaashi repeats, taking another step closer. “I like you a lot. I like everything about you. I think you’re beautiful and the way you think is beautiful. I like that you change the way I think, and I like how everything feels better when you’re around and I want to be with you all the time.”

The words seem to hit her slowly, taking a second to settle into her skin. Once they do, she backs further into her apartment. Akaashi follows, taking slow, hesitant steps, watching as she leans against her kitchen counter. “I don’t,” she starts, and then takes an heavy breath. She turns her head and looks him in the eye. “Did you mean it, when you kissed me?”

“Yes,” Akaashi breathes out. “I meant it.”

She gnaws on the inside of her cheek and looks off to the side. “I don’t like the way you played with my feelings,” she confesses, and looks down at her feet, blinking like she’s trying to force away her tears. “I don’t like the way you made me feel like I didn’t matter to you.”

Without thinking much about it at all, Akaashi takes two long strides to close the gap between them. His arms go around her shoulders, and he pulls her into his chest. “I’m sorry. I was overthinking and I know I made everything worse. But you matter to me. You matter to me so much that I’m going to do all the things I’ve been too afraid to do.” And Akaashi can’t help himself. He kisses the top of her head and tightens his hold on her. “I’m sorry I hurt you. I’ll do anything to make it up to you.”

She tilts her head back to look up at him. Her eyes are wet and watering. She sniffs. “Well, my roommate broke your nose. So, I guess that kinda makes up for it.”

A small smile tugs at the corner of his lips. “Does it look that bad?”

“Nah,” she shakes her head. “I think you look handsome.”

Red tinges his cheeks. Akaashi can feel it as it spreads. And he thinks that he should come up with some sort of flirtatious quip in response, but he’s looking into her eyes and he feels lost. He doesn’t have a grip on any of his conscious thoughts. The only thing that he can really hold onto is that he thinks he really might be in love with her.

So Akaashi leans down and uses the tip of his nose to nudge her head up slightly, and he kisses her. Again.

It’s different now. There’s a different sort of charge to it. Akaashi feels this persistent sort of buzz under his skin as he leans in deeper to her. He kisses her there, in the middle of her kitchen, with no regard to the world around him. It’s like it doesn’t exist. It’s just her and her body heat and the way she is entangled with him.

And his self-control is already hanging on by a thread, so when she drags her hand up his neck and tangles it in the roots of his hair, he snaps. His hands wrap around the bottom of her thighs, and in one swift movement, he’s lifted her onto the countertop, giving him more access to her, in her entirety.

Akaashi’s convinced, then. He’s in love. Pathetically so. He can’t decide if he should take the time to tell her or not. The decision is made for him.

“Surprise! It’s pizza time! Pizza-oh my god.”

They pull apart from each other with a gasp. Akaashi launches himself to the other side of the room. Bokuto Koutarou stands in the doorway of her apartment, mouth slightly agape, a box of pizza in one hand. He stares blankly at the scene before him.

She, still seated on the top of the counter, reaches for the first thing she can get her hands on and flings it directly at her brother’s face. It’s a dish rag. “Oh my god, get out.”

Bokuto doesn’t even flinch as the dish rag hits his face and falls directly onto the pizza box. Akaashi holds his breath. “Fine. I seem to have lost my appetite, anyways. Wonder why.”

He leaves, then. Walking backwards out the front door. He takes the dish rag with him. Akaashi blinks.

->fun facts!

at first when bokuto asked akaashi not to date yn he was really just was joking but then after it kept getting brought up he started to get suspicious; he thought if he kept saying 'oh MAN akaashi would DEFINITELY for sure tell me!' it would make him tell him

but it did not even a little so now bokuto actually kind of feels bad that he made him feel more anxious about the whole thing

bokuto 1000% killed the mood when he showed up but yn and akaashi retreated to her room and talked a lot about their feelings for each other and shared maybe more than one little kiss and decided an exclusive status would work best for them

akaashi is one text away from throttling atsumu his flirting with yn always got under his skin but now he has no reason to hide his budding annoyance

hinata won the bet

one more chapter left!

once more i am NOT proofreading

taglist: @wyrcan @thechaosoflonging @publicbathroompanic @bedeater @rottingt1tz @rintarawr @deluluforcarlos55 @ahseyy @localgaytrainwreck @cherrypieyourface @baskin-robinhoods @polish-cereal @iheartamora @ferntv @eclecticeggknightpsychic @httpakkeiji @does-directions @needtoloveoutloud @rinheartshyunlix @causenessus @bookworm-center @kettlepop @makkiroll @atsumou @eyes-ofhell @kawaii-angelanne @ryeyeyer @k8nicole @mydearchoso @phoenix-eclipses @lixie-phoria @suitstars @reneny @scxrcherr @ueknightbl @iluvaquaphor @sleezzsister @barricadesenthusiast @staygoldsquatchling02 @hyunskzza @nemesii @sereniteav @crimsoncamra @gsyche @evening-latte @rrosiitas @kunimix @kitnootkat @aquariarose @iluv-ace @sparkei @gl6ss

[snifferish]

Never in my life did I think that re-tweeting resources for SA, and supporting victims would be considered problematic or performative.

I should not have to bare this, but I'm going to tell just one of my stories, because I need you to understand where I'm coming from. TW // Sexual Harassment

--

When I was 15, I had my wisdom teeth removed. I wanted to avoid using the pain medication they prescribed. I struggle a lot with sensory issues, medications and substances made it worse.

However, my surgery was for impacted teeth, and only two days in one of my stitches fell out. I was in so much pain, and couldn't eat solids w/ out pain for up to three weeks.

So, a week into my recovery, one of my friends invites me to their house. They were having our friend group over, it was just a little bonfire get together kinda thing. I took my pain meds a few hours prior, and only half a dose, but I was out of it to some degree, and somehow still in pain.

I was sitting on a lawn chair outside, when one of my close friends came over and asked to sit on my lap. Honestly, I said yes at first, because this was my childhood friend, someone I trusted, and I thought our relationship was incredibly platonic. Then he started to shift/grind about in my lap, and I started to feel things of theirs I did not want to. They made a noise that deeply unsettled me, and I told him to get off, they didn't. It was only when I told them that he accidently triggered the emergency call shortcut on my phone (it was in the pocket of the lawn chair, yes they were moving that much and I was moving trying to push him off) that he finally got up.

I was bewildered, and a bit confused, and also embarrassed that my phone nearly called 911. I claimed I wasn't feeling well, and went home early.

That was the first time someone touched me in a remotely sexual way, but I didn't dare to label it until I talked to my therapist. It made me dwell on a lot of experiences with this person as well. How obsessed they were with being taller than me, how often they'd grab me and force me to see if they were stronger than me. At the time, I was in a friend group of predominately non-men, and they were all friends with this person.

However, when I told them about this, when I expressed the discomfort it brought me. I was brushed off. "He's just like that!" oh "He probably didn't mean it" etc.

I didn't feel comfortable in the same room as this person. My friends would continue to invite them to hang outs. One of my other friends told everyone about what happened without my permission. I started having breakdowns in my classes with him. I had panic attacks all the time. I felt as if I had to continue this façade of being nice to him, or else I would lose my friends of years and years.

I was happy when covid started, because for the first time I had breathing room, but by then so much of my trust was dismantled.

Due to my friends association with this person, and the fact that not being their friend excluded me. I eventually got over it, and told myself I'd grown past it.

Three months ago, this same person admitted to me they hold extreme grudges against me, that they projected their "mommy issues" on to me, and quite literally said the words, "Yeah yeah, you're a woman who's outspoken and challenged me and that bothers me yeah yeah." in regards to that. They said it with sarcasm, like it was something they knew, and their mother was reminding them for the 12th time.

--

I bring this all up, not to make you feel guilty, but to discuss the harm of not supporting victims, not listening to them. It puts them in a position of isolation, and in a position to potentially be hurt again.

So yeah, I'm gonna be a little upset when people say I'm being "performative" about supporting victims of sexual harassment and SA. I'm not doing this because it benefits me, in fact it's caused a lot of backlash, horrible dms, and very triggering memories.

I'm doing it because I was once not heard, and i've sat with Caiti behind the scenes for months watching her lose passion for something she loved (content creation).

I didn't do this because I'm secretly sniveling behind the scenes tapping my fingers praying on peoples downfall. I'm not a Disney villain dude lmfao.

Honestly, this narrative that is being pushed, that people are doing it "because it benefits them" is quite ironic, considering most of the people talked about within the last 72 hours were under Wilbur's weird ass apology doing just that.

I hate it, I hate it, I hate it, I hate it. I hate how people are okay with this narrative, the misogynist undertones of it. I've seen people admit that they didn't like me or my friends the entire time, while simultaneously "calling us out" about this, so I ask you,

Are you calling us? Because it benefits your motives? Your feelings?

[foggyfrogss]

« MOIRA › fate; destiny

Gojo x Reader | Warnings: Pure Angst | Discord 18+ | One Shot List

Synopsis— You are reminded of the horrors of Jujutsu, witnessing the last moments of Satoru Gojo and Yuta Okkotsu.

Wake up.

Wake up.

Your mind repeats the phrase, over and over.

“Wake up…”

It had just been you left in the room.

No other signs of life. No other signs of life.

On the metal he lay, motionless and coated in red. It’s all red.

There was no way he could be dead.

“Wake up!” It’s a selfish act, pleading a dead man to wake up.

Oh how you only wanted to see those eyes just one more time. Just one more time.

His face is still, holding an expression you’d never seen him make.

Satoru Gojo was at peace.

Though severed in more places than one, cut in half and bleeding out; he was at peace. A peace he couldn’t find living, even if he searched far and wide. It was an unreachable peace for a man who was as burdened as he was. He was free.

Tangled in your soul, he stays, making it difficult to breathe.

The short time you had alone with him had not been enough, you wished for more— but Shoko had been insistent on preparing his corpse.

Satoru was good at many things, one thing being that he always kept you out of the loop of his plans. “You’re what?” The words fall from your lips in a shocked tone, devoid of anger but filled with horror.

You couldn’t be angry at Shoko for something out of her control. She wanted the same as you; you could see it on her face and in the amount of finished cigarettes on the floor.

“If we hit rock bottom— meaning we have no other choice, if Yuta can’t do it,” Shoko begins to explain as she rids Gojo’s face of the dried blood, “we are to swap Yuta’s consciousness into his body.”

“He was okay with this?” You ask, motioning towards Gojo. Shoko nods, but only once. Her tired eyes jump from his corpse to meet your eyes. “He was sure he’d win, but then expressed that he did not care what happened to his body… if he were to die.”

In silence, though standing back far enough to give Shoko room, you watch her prepare his body. The squeaking wheels of a cart could be heard as she brings over a tray of medical tools.

She cleans off the dried blood after removing the scraps of his torn shirt. In silence, Shoko stitches the man’s body back together. Almost like a puzzle.

She cleans the remaining blood, and then pauses; she’s looking up at you, brown eyes peaking up. Though her face is masked, she’s showing her concern.

“The next part may be hard to watch,” she says steadily, holding up what looks to be a type of scalpel.

One part you had completely missed was how the consciousness would be swapped.

“Wait,” you’re saying, “what are you about to do?”

It’s silent for a beat, and you don’t miss the way her fingers slightly tremble. “The curse that was inside Geto’s body- Yuta will be copying that technique to use Gojo’s technique.”

It was clear as day now, and your eyes widen.

“You’re using-“ you are cut off with a loud popping sound. Ui-Ui appears out of thin air, holding— to the best of his abilities, Yuta Okkotsu.

Once again, all you see is red. It’s spilling onto the floor, a lot faster than Gojo’s had been. Yet, as you watch in pure horror, you see the way Yuta is still alive. He’s still moving, but slowly. Yuta’s energy flickers as it clings to life.

Shoko had dropped everything in her hands to push another metal table over, helping Ui-Ui place his severed body onto it. Piece by piece, careful not to hurt him more than he already was.

Just like Gojo, Yuta matches his sensei’s fatal wounds.

Seconds after Yuta’s arrival, the double-doors to the morgue/medical area are busted open. A kid, who you faintly recall as Amai, and Nitta flood in. Both of them rush to Yuta’s side, doing what they can to help him.

With a few minutes passing, you feel the tension in the air rise. It thickens uncomfortably, making you more anxious than you already were. “It’s no use,” you hear Nitta express. “All my RCT is doing is pausing it— it’s not getting better or worse.”

“Rika is how I’m still conscious, b-but that’s at its limit too…” you hear Yuta’s strained voice choke out. It’s absolutely gut-wrenching, hearing a kid— Satoru’s student, you grew to know so well suffer in such a way. “Ieiri, we’re doing it,” he says, “we have to do it. There’s no other choice.”

For a second, it’s deathly silent. All that could be heard is the strained breathing of Yuta Okkotsu.

“I have finished the stitching on Gojo’s corpse. As soon as you have moved in, push your reverse cursed technique to its maximum and get the body ready,” Shoko is turning slightly to lock eyes with Amai. “Amai, you will help me support him.”

“You have the option to stay and watch or save yourself the grief.”

You are already grieving, what more could make it worse? You stay silent, practically unable to speak.

Her words make you glance up at her, tearing your eyes away from Yuta as you watch Amai move towards his extended right hand.

“Come with me,” you feel Nitta take hold of your hand, pulling you towards the exit.

As if you’re on auto-pilot, your legs take you with her. Your head stays turned as you leave, watching as Shoko begins cutting into Gojo’s head.

The sight is gruesome, making you sick, but the double-doors shut before you can watch any further.

Unable to move any further, you’re falling to your knees, releasing a pained sound as you feel the grief finally take hold of the wheel. It’s painful.

“No…” you gasp out, shutting your eyes tightly together. The last thing you wanted to do was cry, but the tears find their way out, falling down your cheeks in heavy streams. “This isn’t real,” you say, clenching your teeth. “Satoru couldn’t have just died like that.”

Nitta is silent.

When you no longer feel Yuta’s cursed energy, you know.

After peeling yourself off the ground, you’d found a seat in a row chairs just outside the morgue. You assumed they were for grieving people such as yourself. People who needed to say goodbye one final time.

It’s quiet. A quiet that leaves you bare and lonely, alone with your thoughts. All you can think about is how you’ll never see him again.

As you sit in the depths of your mind, wading through heavy thoughts and feelings, a sharp feeling strikes you. It hits you hard, making you jolt.

It was him. It was his energy.

“Satoru…” you’re saying to yourself, in disbelief, picking yourself up from the seat. Nitta notices you immediately, quickly reaching for you, but you slip away.

Your anguish had blinded you. All you wanted was him and currently all you could feel around you was him.

In a haze, you’re opening the doors to the medical area, wincing from the bright lights. Your body reaches for him, grasping at the air. It’s like a magnetic pull, unable to resist the force, you’re scanning the room for him.

Your heart thumps, sending a wave of tingles through you as you finally spot him.

Lost due to the overwhelming events, you weren’t sure what to expect. It had completely slipped your mind as to what Shoko genuinely meant when she’d explained… though you understood, nothing could prepare you for what you found.

Shoko is eyeing you worriedly.

The man turns, locking eyes with you.

Oh how you only wanted to see those eyes just one more time. Just one more time. Yet, when that wish is granted, when you lock eyes with this man— it’s not the same. At all.

They are distant, lacking the vibrancy of life Satoru Gojo once held when he looked at you. Blue, striking and bright, they’re now cold. Cold like the body that lay on that table moments ago.

The peace was gone, as was Satoru Gojo.

Dead man walking, he moves awkwardly, like a reanimated corpse trying to learn how to walk again.

Disheveled hair, you can see the fresh stitching across his forehead; Geto’s face pops into your mind.

Next to Gojo’s body, Shoko moves away, going to the other side of the room. The air around her has completely shifted, and you understand immediately.

In the background, you can hear Shoko clean the tools she’s used for surgery.

“Yuta,” you say, directing it towards Gojo’s body. When his mouth opens to speak, you feel as if your heart is ripped from your chest.

Gojo was not free. Though death has lifted the burden of his status off his soul, he is unable to rest. He is not free— a weapon, taken advantage of and used selfishly by your fellow sorcerers for their gain. For Japan’s gain. Call it selfish, but you understood why the plan had been kept from you now.

Hell would freeze over before you agreed to such a thing, even if Gojo was okay with it.

To have a body; to just exist, is to suffer— it was what you learned from him in the handful of years you had known Satoru Gojo.

He was not a man to speak up, especially about himself; you could see it in his eyes rather than being told in words. The second his blindfold was removed in the comfort of your home, his entire story would be told, expressed only to you in private.

He was a man, a human, just like any other sorcerer... just as Geto was.

To be used in the same way as his late best-friend, but this time for good; it was more than tragic... disturbing and unforgivable.

“Hello,” he says your name after, following the greeting.

It is his voice. It is his voice.

Under a white sheet, Yuta’s body— now corpse, lays still. His brain, and complete consciousness, residing in the corpse of your late lover.

“I’m sorry,” is all he says before disappearing from the room. His voice is pained, as if he had been in your shoes himself. As if he had been the one to witness his lover's body being used as a tool.

Silence follows his departure, filling the cold room.

You hadn't known warmth since he turned cold.

[on-leatheredwings]

House Arrest

Yandere! Batfam / Bruce Wayne x (Fem!) Reader

For a request, Munchausen's syndrome by proxy with Bruce? Like, he keeps reader sick so she can't leave him or interact with someone outside the family. And maybe the rest of the batfam is in on it?

[a/n: Didn’t know if you wanted this platonic or not so I didn’t specify! In my head its romantic with bruce though lmao]

> word count: 1581

> Tw: gaslighting, munchausen’s syndrome by proxy, yandere-typical behaviors!

You sit in anticipation, foot tapping against the stone floor. There’s an entire miniature hospital set up for you down here in the Batcave. Respirators, diagnostics machines, and other expensive medical equipment that would be better served in Gotham General. 

Helping people recover. 

So patients could some day leave. 

You used to love being in the Batcave. It was the family’s little secret. When you officially joined the family, the Batcave was now your secret as well. But ever since falling ill months ago, bedridden with a sickness whose cause continues to elude everyone… being here is depressing. You now notice it’s damp down here. Dark. Lifeless.

Bruce sits at the Batcomputer, the screen’s light painting over his face in a green wash. You watch his eyes scan line after line of your results. Reminds you of a typewriter. Methodical. Orderly. Nearly inhuman. When he sighs, your heart stops. 

Fuck.

He turns to you, face grave. “You’re still ill.” 

Your eyes start stinging with an onset of tears that you furiously try to blink back. 

“... H-How ill? How bad? Am I any better?” you ask, as if bartering with him will make the situation any different. As if bartering with God ever made any difference for mere mortals such as yourself.

Bruce’s face is still. 

“You haven’t improved.” 

Your hopes crash down around you like glass. You aren’t better at all? Even though you haven’t had a fever in weeks? Even though you’ve been working out with enough energy to keep up with Damian? He was exerting perhaps only 10% of his effort, but still. Your lymph nodes aren’t even swollen anymore. Tim had told you as much, accidentally contradicting Bruce’s insistence that they had been earlier that morning. 

“But I feel better,” you croak. You hear footsteps behind you approach and you swallow drily, nearly hissing at the offender. It’s Dick, and damn him. You don’t want to be placated right now.

“Are you experiencing any headaches? Shortness of breath?” Bruce asks, eyes still trained on you. You try to recall. 

“... I may have had a migraine this morning…” At Bruce’s weary shake of the head, you blurt, “But it’s passed. I’m perfectly fine. And no shortness of breath.”

“... I’m sorry. But if you’ve been having symptoms like that, along with your being immunocompromised…” Bruce doesn’t even have to finish the sentence. You won’t be leaving the Wayne Manor grounds for a long time. 

Fuck. 

Fuck. 

You feel a hand on your shoulder. You look up and see Dick, whose face is somber but offers an encouraging smile. 

“Well, I’m back in town for the time being. We can hang out all the time.” His expression brightens as an idea pops into his head. “And I can call Tim, Jason, Duke–! Maybe even Cass and Steph… We can have a board game night tonight!” He sounds as chipper as you are miserable.

Damian approaches from behind, leaving the shadows. His arms are folded. “If that’s the case, I’ll humor Grayson and let him capture some of my fleet for once.” A popular choice was Risk, perfect for the family who’s entire lives revolved around combat and strategy. But you didn’t want to play Risk again. You didn’t want to have a board game night, no matter how many of the family came. You wanted to see people. 

Other people. Everyone here is your family. 

You want fucking friends again. You wanted a job again – a sentiment you would’ve laughed at even just five months ago. You wanted any semblance of a life again.

Bruce’s eyes haven’t left your trembling form once, two chips of slate-gray peering over steepled hands.

“Thank you, Dick. Damian. But I think she could use some time alone.”

Dick’s hand releases your shoulder, retracting as if burned. None of them are the boss here. It’s Bruce who is my warden, your mind whispers darkly. 

“Right! Don’t want you to feel overwhelmed.” Dick sees himself out, taking Damian with him. “See you tonight.” And that feels like a sentencing to your fate.

Now the two of you alone, Bruce stands, offering his arm wordlessly. You know what this means. You take it, linking yours with his without thought or protest. Bruce liked to ensure you were always within his reach, as if you were prone to fainting spells. This was less humiliating for you than him carrying you through the estate, you suppose. 

“Why, yes, let’s take a turn around the grounds!” you used to exclaim, making your voice posh and British, mimicking the regency romance movies you had been watching all the time. 

Now, months later, you just sullenly allow him to lead you. Your surroundings pass by and you vaguely recognize that you are exiting the Batcave, walking through the manor, and out into the never-ending expanse of a well-kept lawn. 

It’s a sunny, idyllic spring day after months of overcast winter. 

And thank god you could still traipse outside when you wanted, even if fenced in. Bruce told you when you had first fallen ill that he had installed some high-tech, anti-air pollution gadget. Wayne Manor was effectively your own personal bubble. Fresh air was the only thing keeping you sane, lately. 

You two pass by the garden, a labor of love Alfred started. You and Damian tend to it now… and mainly the latter, these days. You haven’t had any energy for gardening as of late. Fatigue is a symptom, you hear Bruce’s voice whisper in the back of your mind. But you don’t feel fatigue… rather, just depressed. But of course, isn’t fatigue a symptom of being depressed…? A familiar brain fog crawls into your mind. Your head was starting to hurt.

You look across the lawn, onto the horizon. Gotham’s dark skyline sits there, enticing. When night falls, it’ll glimmer and twinkle with light. There is a whole world out there. And, God, you love the Waynes, but they aren’t the world. You need to distract yourself. Bruce, ever the lover of pleasant silences, is going to have to distract you from thoughts that make you want to leap off the second story balcony of your bedroom.

Should you ask, “How’s work?” No. You find you don’t care. 

“How’s Jason?” you say instead, feeling Bruce stiffen at the mention of his most tenuous relation.

He wasn’t around as much, but when he was, he was always relaxing with you in your room. You have a whole shelf for the knick knacks he brings. “Don’t worry. They’re clean,” he’d snort at his former mentor, because Bruce required everything to be thrice sanitized before coming into your possession.

“... Better.”

You’re glad. That’s one good thing, you guess. 

“Bruce,” you croak. 

He looks at you, face alight in expectation. 

“Maybe I should just go,” you say, small and weak. Your eyes don’t leave the sight of Gotham skyscrapers, stretching to the sky. Bruce stills, stopping you both in your tracks.

“What do you mean, ‘go’?” he says carefully.

You remove yourself from his arm and gesture to the city. “Just go. Leave. I mean, I can’t stay here forever.” Bruce looks genuinely confused, as much as he can. 

“Of course you can.”

“No, I can’t!” you screech. Frustrated, you tear at your hair. “I can just be an outpatient somewhere– I can go for hospital treatments every week– or everyday– whatever!

Bruce places his hands on your shoulders.

“You don’t know what you’re saying.”

Rage flares in you and you gnash your teeth at him. By now, that all-too-familiar brain fog has flooded your brain. But you try to fight it. You have to fight it. Like trying to crawl out of rapidly-sinking quicksand, you fight it.

“I-I know what I’m saying. I’m saying–”

“You’re saying to just let you die,” Bruce sharply returns. “To give up, let you die, and leave us to grieve.” 

“No–”

“Stephanie.” 

You meet his eyes again at the name, which are resolute and as blue as ever. 

“Cassandra. Duke.” Your stomach churns, imagining their smiling faces, turned into ash as your hypothetical passing. “Barbara.” 

“Bruce,” you croak, pleading inwardly for him to stop. 

“Damian.” 

“Tim.”

“Jason.” 

“Dick. Alfred.” You duck your head and your eyes meet the ground. The listing of all your loved ones pinches your heart, and you feel nauseous. You weren’t trying to leave them. You didn’t want to leave them at all. 

“... Me.” 

Your eyes sting with tears again. Why did he have to make it sound like that? Like you were seeking some selfish want, rather than trying to improve your quality of life. You feel your ambition and desire wane under the weight of guilt. You feel all sense of struggle start to disintegrate, lost to the fog in your head. Lost. You’ve lost.

Bruce’s eyes scrutinize you.

“As I suspected. You’re acting delirious. Manic. Delusional.”

Any semblance of protest dies in your throat. 

“What?” you say. But Bruce is already leading you away towards the looming doors of Wayne Manor, away from the green of the grounds. Away from the light of the sun, and away from the skyline. He comforts you with familiar lines on the way to your bedroom. 

You need rest. Alfred will brew his tea for you. I’ll call the kids to come tonight. We can play Risk. He pats your shoulder, stroking soft, deceptively warm circles with his thumb.

“You just need some rest.” 

And not for the first time, you believe he may be right.

[avocad1s]

Trial By Combat - 3

Requested By: No One. Original Work.

CW: Post-Impostor SAGAU,

Summary: Focalors apologizes

Note: This is so late and I apologize for that!

If vou haven't finished the Fontaine Archon quest, please exit stage left.

Part One Part Two Part Four

The rain drops pelted the windows. It seemed never-ending. The sky still looked tormented by the thick overcast of gray clouds that blocked the morning sun. Fontaine hadn’t seen a day of sunshine in days and the Chief Justice couldn’t bring himself to work another day in a row.

No many how many hours he wasted staring at the file created for your case, it did nothing to relieve the amount of sadness he had in his heart. Neuvillette is the most trusted and respected person in the entire nation but even he couldn’t see past the empty accusations the Hydro Archon made.

Once the trial began and he saw your face he had his doubts, your physical appearance was beyond comparison. He didn’t want to believe that you were an imposter, that you had ill intentions but he couldn’t let his personal feelings get in the way of justice.

He wasn’t the only one with these thoughts, people who sat in the audience began to whisper amongst themselves wondering if you really were a fake.

However a few words from Furina were enough to get many people on board.

‘Do not let yourselves be fooled by their appearance my dear people, they want us to let our guard down! I will personally reveal the truth behind their deceit.’

Yet you do not stand trial, you ask to duel for your innocence and he accepts.

That was his biggest mistake.

He knew that you were no match for Clorinde and he knew that he could’ve intervened at any time, but he didn’t.

You laid on the dueling grounds blood quickly poured from your body. Medical staff and Clorinde were quick to carry you away from the public but Neuvillette will never forgive his inaction.

Suddenly he blinks as a raindrop slides down his cheek.

-

Just like she promised, Furina returned to your room at daybreak. Once you were in her line of sight she bows slightly speaking in a soft tone.

“Your Grace, thank you for allowing me to return.”

You say nothing, watching the people down below navigate through the weather with their parasols in hand.

She takes a step forward. Would you allow her to get close to you again? The last thing she wants is for you to yell even if she deserves it. She takes small steps forward, paying close attention to your face taking note of any displeasure you may feel from her presence.

Eventually she was close enough to touch you, she readjusts her hat slightly before kneeling down resting her hand on top of yours. The Archon smiles slightly feeling a sense of relief wash over her.

“I am a fool,” Furina breathes out, “I should’ve been the first to recognize you but I didn’t and now I will pay the price…”

She feels her lips tremble. Was she going to shed tears in front of her God again?

“I know that there’s no way I can fix this but-“

“You’re right Furina,” you interject, “there’s no way you can fix this.”

She looks up at you with watery eyes.

“But I was doing some thinking last night and I want to move on from this.” You finally look down at her examining her expression. “that doesn’t mean I forgive you and I definitely won’t forget what you did.”

Furina let’s out a breath, you truly were a benevolent being. She was ready to do anything for you to give her another chance, even if she had to pull her gnosis out of her chest.

“Thank you for this opportunity Your Grace,” she gives you a smile, “I will do everything in my power to prove my loyalty to you again.”

You decide not to respond to her statement instead turning your gaze to the bundle of flowers on your bedside table. The stems were going limp and the color of the petals were fading. Whoever brought them must’ve forgotten to water them, they’re almost dead now.

Furina stands up wiping her wet cheeks as she gives you a small smile. “Your Grace, would it be alright if I show you around Fontaine? I know everyone would be very happy to see that you’re doing okay.”

You look out the window once more, she was right. There was a large crowd of people who stood outside the building you were in. Many of them holding gifts that they hope to give to you.

You open your mouth to respond but another voice cuts you off.

“Lady Furina that’s not a good idea…”

Clorinde leaned against the threshold of the door, she had dark circles under her eyes as she stared at the two of you. “Their Grace’s wounds are still healing. Walking for extended periods of time could be dangerous.”

Furina pouts slightly at her words but she knew Clorinde was right. If you were to tear your stitches you might not survive another operation, and the mere thought of you dying sends shivers down the Archon’s spine.

“You should let them get plenty of rest for now.” Clorinde suggests, “The medical staff will return tomorrow to change their bandages and give an update on their condition.“

You can see Furina visibly deflate at her words, “I know, I know…”

With a bit more pushing, Furina soon left with Clorinde leaving you alone in the room once again. Suddenly you feel a wave a fatigue wash over you, maybe not getting any sleep throughout the night was a bad idea. You stand from the windowsill and walk slowly over to the bed sinking into the soft material. A sigh leaves your mouth as you close your eyes listening to the sounds of rain against the glass until you eventually fell asleep.

-

You wake up to the sound of small footsteps, their voices are hushed as they walk around the room. You decide to keep your eyes closed, curious what their intentions of coming here were.

“Let’s change the flowers before they wake up. We don’t want to get caught.”

Hmm. So they’re the ones bringing the flowers.

You open your eyes sitting up in bed and your meet with…

…a Melusine?

“Oh no! We’ve been caught!”

The two hang their heads down sadly, as if they were were just caught by their parent.

“So you two were the ones who brought flowers to my bed?”

The Melusine look at each other then at you.

“Monsieur Neuvillette asked us to bring these to you.” One of them confessed.

You blink, “Neuvillette? He asked you to bring these?”

She nods holding the flowers out to you, “will you take them? It would make him really happy if you did.”

You hesitate for a moment, staring at the bouquet in the Melusine’s hands. Even if you couldn’t forgive any of them now for what happened. What good would holding a grudge do?

You take the flowers bringing them to your face to smell the sweet scent. “Thank you for bringing these to me, tell Neuvillette I said thank you.”

The Melusine give you a closed eye smile nodding as they walk towards the door. However before they were fully out of earshot, you hear one of them say:

“Maybe we’ll have some better weather now.”

You look down at the flowers, they truly were beautiful. They were Romaritime flowers, ones they could only be picked with the hydro element. You feel a small smile spread on your face as you replace the other bouquet with the new one. With a busy schedule like his, Neuvillette must’ve went out of his way to get these for you.

-

-

Underneath the cover a darkness, a large ship docks right outside the court of Fontaine.

It was unusual for a ship to come at this time but there was no mistaking that symbol that steered any citizen away as quickly as possible.

“Lady Harbinger, we’ve arrived.”

The Knave stands from her seat, she wasn’t here for diplomatic reasons or for her comrade that rotted in Fontaine’s prison. Her reasons for returning home were purely selfish.

She steps off the boat her heel landing in a puddle the was slowly drying from the warm breeze Sumeru’s desert nearby. The Knave looks up expecting to see rain clouds but is met with thousands of stars spread across the night sky. It was a clear night.

“All of you head to the Northland Bank and do not reveal our true reason for coming here to anyone. I will retrieve Their Grace myself.”

-

© avocad1s 2023

Tagging: @bittersweetorpheus @esthelily @tempestlart @angelofdarkness2 @mmeatt @dxprived4-starboys

If your @ is bolded, for some reason I cannot tag you! :(

If you wish to be removed from the tag list you can comment or inbox me and I’ll take you off :)

[shhhsecretsideblog]

Anniversary To Remember

RP / story written with @tbgblr2 Thanks for taking on the challenge of this idea and my attempt to find an inconvenient birth location that hadn’t been written before. (9.5k words)

“Wha… NO!” you snapped as you looked at the sign in front of us.

“Please?” I asked, with my best doe eyed expression. “I booked it specially for us last year… I know things have changed, but it's perfectly safe.”

“I’ll fall through.” You groan, admittedly giggling at the thought.

“No you won't, they’re not like the old days with wicker baskets, they’re proper, metal structures designed to hold 10 times our combined weight.” I retorted.

It was our second wedding anniversary today. When we discussed it last year, the day after our one year anniversary, it sounded like a great way to celebrate our second. We were going on a hot air balloon ride over the city into the countryside and staying for a romantic meal together with a night in a log cabin to follow.

Only our desires got the better of us, and here we were looking at the sign for the balloon place with you holding your hands under your blossoming belly – 9 months of it.

You had forgotten all about it with all the baby commotion, but when I pulled up to the venue near the airport, it all came flooding back.

“The doctor said you weren’t due for another week, and this will be the last chance we can do something crazy like this before the baby comes. It makes lots of sense to do it now and cross it off our bucket list… plus I can’t get a refund.” I tried to reason with logic.

You shook your head. “I think my belly is almost the size of that balloon the way I feel.” Despite your protest you’re clearly thinking about it and, warming up to the idea, you eventually smile at me.

“That’s my girl” I grin “Don’t worry, it’s only 3 hours”

~•~

I roll my eyes but my lips pull into a smile. “Okay, let’s do it. Here’s hoping we can both fit in there.” I joke, rubbing the swell of my heavy stomach.

Leaving the house was the last thing I wanted to do today, and taking a romantic hot air balloon ride? Complete madness. But you were just so excited, this was something you’d always wanted to do for as long as I’d known you. And those doe eyes, I really couldn’t say no.

As we stood and waited for the stewards to set up the balloons, I grimaced at the twinge flaring in my back.

“Oof-” I huff out, and attempt to hold up my bump that’s weighing heavy on my hips and cramping my spine.

“Baby kicking you in the ribs again?” You ask, noticing my expression.

“No… it’s just really heavy. Hoooo- I’ll be glad when this pregnancy is over.”

“Not long left to go sweetie. Here, let me try something.” You stand behind me, arms snaking my waist, and you lift up the large bump containing our baby. My head falls back against you with relief. “That feels wonderful.” I murmur, enjoying the momentary feeling.

After a couple of minutes of respite, you gently let go and the weight returns to my pelvis and I groan softly.

“Are you sure this is safe?” I ask, taking another deep breath, rubbing my belly subconsciously. “I’m not sure I’m up for this…”

~•~

“It’s the safest thing in the world” came the voice across the way. One of the representatives of the balloon company came striding up and shook my hand. “How can I help?”

I picked up my phone and scrolled through to our online voucher. “I’m here for our booking?” I asked, showing the details to the man who approached.

“Ahh!” came the reply. “You’re here to fly. Got your transport right over here. Flying it myself today. Names Jimmy. I couldn’t help but overhear the discussion earlier, let me tell you, kids are the best thing in the world, and once you’re up in the air, you’re going to have stories to tell them to get them to sleep for years to come. Just checking…” he sounded slightly unsure “are you safe to fly in your condition?”

“I have the medical certificate here, got it last week.” I announced. Jimmy looked it over.

“Good all seems to be in order, if you’ll follow me… our chariot awaits!” Jimmy was enthusiastic, I’ll certainly give him that.

~•~

I was glad when Jimmy directed us further across the field, I needed the opportunity to walk off the cramp rippling my stomach. The braxton hicks had been happening on and off today, which wasn’t particularly unusual, but I didn’t want to tell you as I knew you’d only worry. I didn’t want to ruin this once in a lifetime experience for you.

My eyes widened when I saw the basket we’d be riding in; it was huge and a lot taller than I anticipated. It was higher than my waist.

“Erm… how am I going to get in that?” I ask uncertainly.

Jimmy produced a stepping stool, presumably he was used to getting people in and out the large basket but perhaps never someone quite this pregnant before.

~•~

It took a few false starts, with you stepping on, trying to get your leg over the top, giving up, repositioning, trying again and again, but eventually you were able to use my shoulder as support as I lifted you up over the edge of the basket. “Maybe I should have gotten in first and lifted you over?” I suggested, as I scrambled in behind you.

You huffed out a breath as you smiled “I am in no condition to be lifted thank you!”

It was quite roomy all things considered. There was a small cabin to one side where the pilot could sit and do his thing without directly interfering with us. I looked over and saw the laptop computer affixed to a small tray against the wall.

Our area was open sided, exposed to the elements, but thankfully it was a nice day and aside from higher winds when we got up to a decent height, we were expecting clear views and plenty of lasting memories.

We cuddled together as Jimmy announced he was lighting the burners – the whoosh of the gas and the heat of the flames announced we were getting ready to go. I hugged you from behind and as there was a quick lurch from the balloon lifting off the ground I felt your usually soft belly harden under my fingers. “What was that?” I whispered to you.

~•~

“What was what?” I reply casually, keeping my eyes forward at the ground that was slowly disappearing beneath us.

You say my name with a hint of a scolding, knowing I knew exactly what you were referring to. My belly was still contracting under your fingers and I could see in your eyes that you could feel it too.

“It’s nothing, just another braxton hicks that’s all. Don’t worry. Look at this amazing view” I try to distract you “we’re already so high.”

~•~

I calm a little as I feel the tension ease around your middle. Taking your hand in mine we walked over to the edge of the basket. We spend a good 5 minutes with the wind ruffling our hair as we stare out over the city. “There's our house!” I excitedly point out into the distance. “There’s your parent’s place. Oh and mine.” I’m lost in the giddy enjoyment of this, holding your hand tight and don’t notice your grip tightening and tightening more on mine as the next contraction starts to grip your middle.

“If we need to get down, how do we do that?” you asked Jimmy.

“Sorry, nothing much we can do now until we’re outside the city. Nowhere clear to land. Figure we need about 2 hours minimum with this wind speed. Afraid we can’t just turn these things around and head home.” He was smiling but didn’t even look up at you as he responded, he was too focused on twisting the knobs on the gas bottles to get the mixture right and tapping his route onto the laptop to let air traffic control know where we were heading.

I turn back around and grasp you around the waist – your bump pressed in tight against me as I cuddle you close to me. I don’t notice the strained tension that had gripped it a few moments before. Kissing you I whisper “Happy anniversary. Here’s to lots of years and lots of babies!”

~•~

“Lots of babies eh? Let’s see how we get on with this one first before you start planning for a whole football team.” I shift my hips subtly side to side, trying to not think about just how low the baby felt in my pelvis.

“You were right; it is really magical up here. You can see the whole city.” I say wandering as much as I can in the small space, needing to move, looking out at every angle towards the horizon. The sun was shining brightly illuminating the tiny buildings below, clouds littered the perfectly blue sky, but it was the silence that made the experience otherworldly. It was so quiet up here. Just the sounds of the breeze and the occasional whoosh of the gas canisters keeping our balloon in the air.

I ended up leaning against the adjacent wall of the basket to you, each of us looking out at the impressive scenery, but I’m pulled out of the experience but a forceful contraction squeezing and tightening my belly. My breath hitches, pain pressing more urgently now through my body. I try to steady my breathing, long deep breathes through the pain, that’s what they say don’t they? My fingers grip the padded railing and my head dips slightly. Stay calm, just breathe, I tell myself. This might not be labour.

~•~

You suddenly feel my hand rubbing your back. “You ok?” I ask, concern in my voice looking at your white knuckles gripping the side. Your eyes dart between my face and what I’m looking at, suddenly releasing your grip.

“Yeah, fine. Just baby’s really low. Probably just the change in gravity because we’re so high.”

I caught my laugh, sniggering through my lips. “No, you’re just very, very pregnant.” My hands grip either side of your hips and press, the moan escaping your lips echoed out across the wide open air.

I lean in close and whisper so only you can hear “Just breathe through it, we’ll be on the ground in a couple of hours.”

~•~

“You know?” I whisper my reply, turning my head slightly to find you nodding, a grin twitching your lips. “Damn, I thought I’d been more- hooo-subtle.”

Slowly, I turn around to face you, holding on to your biceps as I find myself needing both the physical and emotional support.

“Ooohhhh- why now?” I quietly moan against your chest.

“Shhhhhh it’s okay.” You whisper into my hair, rubbing my back before pressing deep into my hips again. “How long do you think you’ve been in labour for?” You ask.

“Mmmm- I’m not sure. My body’s always aching and cramping these days, I- I didn’t think anything of it….” I reply softly, my breath hitching again with another contraction. My heavy rounded belly is squashed between us and I’m almost certain you’d be able to feel it through your shirt, tensing and contracting against your stomach.

~•~

The next contraction builds without warning as you grab hold of me tight, your fingers digging into my shoulders as you press your forehead into my chest, desperately resisting the urge to scream, knowing it would likely cause chaos with our pilot. My hands grip into the small of your back and you press back into them, you’re suddenly bent at the waist, your feet spread, hips swaying side to side as you groan quietly into me.

My forehead rests against you and to the outside world - or specifically Jimmy at this moment - it just looks like we’re embracing and enjoying the moment.

Suddenly there’s a splash between your legs and you find your dress is sticking to your legs. You go wide eyed. There’s no mistaking it now…

~•~

“Oh my god…” my voice is barely a whisper as I stare up at you in shock. Your expression mirrors my own.

“Erm… is everything alright guys?” Jimmy asks in an upbeat tone that feels alien to the both of us right now.

“Not really no…” I say to our bewildered pilot, before turning back to you. “Honey, I think I need to sit down.”

Your hand is around my waist as you walk me over to the small cushioned bench sitting one end of the hot air balloon basket, you steady me as I awkwardly lower myself down.

“Are you okay here for a minute while I update our pilot on what’s happening?” You ask quietly, one hand affectionately rubbing my stomach.

“Mmmm- yeah… I think so. Thanks.” I reply and watch you walk over to Jimmy to presumably tell him that I’m in labour.

Everything feels different now I’m sat down; my hips ache, my pelvis feels full and my stomach seems to sit further out forcing itself to sit between my thighs. The baby had definitely dropped and was making its arrival known.

Why now… why here… I thought to myself, this baby has a really warped sense of timing. I closed my eyes and rubbed slow circles around my stomach. I tried to stay calm and reassure myself that everything would be okay, but my broken waters continuing to leak from me served as a constant reminder of my advancing labour. My heart raced and it felt like I couldn’t quite catch my breath through the rising panic…

~•~

I look Jimmy straight in the eyes. “We need to get down. Now… if not sooner.”

He shook his head “I wasn’t lying when I said we couldn’t. You guys knew the issues before you got on. I’ll put an SOS out so the medical facilities will meet us when we land, but it’s going to be around 2 hours.”

“Shit” I cursed under my breath, as you groaned loudly, the first vocalisation of a rapidly accelerating labour.

I dashed to you and skidded down to my knees, inadvertently sliding through your amniotic fluid in the process, cursing all the way. I grasp your hands as you grip mine - hard - as your eyes look at me pleading, struggling to catch your breath.

I talk you down, calming whispering tones as you catch your breath and groan through the rest of the contraction.

Jimmy struggles putting 2 and 2 together as he asks “what’s happening?”

“We might well be pushing out a baby at 2000 feet if you can’t get this thing on the ground” I summarise.

“Fuck” came the blunt reply from our pilot.

~•~

We stay in that position for the next few contractions - offering me your hands to hold or shoulders to squeeze. Meanwhile, Jimmy is nervously pressing buttons on his map and contacting the base on the ground, trying to find any nearby suitable location to land - his laidback persona starting to fray at the edges.

“Hooo- the baby feels so low…” I huff out after a particularly fierce contraction. “I don’t think… I can sit anymore. Feels like I’m sitting on their head. Need to- oof- stand. Help me up?” I ask holding out my arms.

Your large hands hook under my arms and slowly aid me to standing. My balance is thrown off, the baby even lower, and I stumble a little but you’re quick to react and hold me steady.

“How are you doing love?” You ask me with concerned eyes.

“Okay… as well as I can b-be in the circumstances.” I attempt to joke, motioning to the basket and the open skies around us and the ridiculous situation we’ve found ourselves in.

“I guess of all places to labour, this has definitely got the best views.” You tuck a sweaty strand of hair behind my ear. You’re barely even looking at where we are - eyes focussed solely on me.

“I’m sorry… I ruined this experience for you.” I murmur quietly to you, feeling guilty that you were now missing out on enjoying this bucket-list activity.

“What? Don’t be silly. You’re having my baby, there is literally nothing more important to me than the two of you.” You kiss my forehead and pull me closer.

Before I can respond another contraction steals any words I could say and I’m left with only deep groans coming from my mouth.

The pain and pressure rages through my very core, my hands scramble to hook themselves around your neck as my hips sway and my knees bounce, pulling myself downwards against your sturdy frame, releasing a low moan against your chest.

When the contraction fades and my ability to speak returns I ask “do you think we should maybe start… hoooo… timing them?”

~•~

“Let’s give it a go” I say, glancing at my watch. At this point I’m just playing along as I’d been timing them since I first realised you’d been having contractions. We focus on each other through the course of the next few minutes not even staring out at the view at this point - you’re deep breathing, head buried in my chest and my hands roaming your body trying to rub - anywhere - to make the pain go away.

As the next contraction builds bringing you back into your previous position, hanging low off me and moaning loud through the worst of it, I’m counting in my head. The numbers reach high enough that I just give up as you finally come out the other end and look at me.

“So you know in the birthing class when they say come in when they’re less than 5 minutes apart and last longer than a minute?”

You nod, signalling me to go on.

“I think we should have been there for quite some time now. That was 3 minutes from the last one and lasted at least a minute - lost count after 50 seconds”

Jimmys face, watching all this from afar went white.

I turned and noticed. “Hey you said you’d had babies before. Any tips for this bit? All my knowledge is from videos at this point?”

He shook his head. “No. I couldn’t handle it. Seen my wife in stirrups, seen her bulge as the head came out and I passed out. Came to as she had a baby to her chest and 2 nurses fanning me looking on concerned”

I shook my head. “Great…” I wasn’t sure how much of that you had took on in you slight state of delirium, but either way, the next contraction was building and you held on tight.

~•~

On learning that we should already be at the hospital by now with how close together the contractions were coming, I wiggled out of your hold and moved away. Needing space… to process, to not be touched.

“No…. That can’t- can’t be right. Hoooo-“ I breathed heavily, hands gripping the edge of the basket in the absence of you. Unsure if it was the increasing pressure or the very real possibility that I was going to have this baby in a damn hot air balloon, my brain went into complete denial.

“Babe, I’m sorry. We can time some more to be sure, but this baby is definitely coming, sooner than we want.” You stand next to me, placing a comforting hand on my shoulder which I shrug off with a gruff. I know this isn’t your fault, just a case of really unfortunate timing, but the constant pressure and pain has me taking my frustrations out at you.

“Fuck… ohhhh my back….” I whimper, leaning over the railing and jutting my hips backwards. The baby must be pressing on a nerve that has my spine screaming.

Despite snapping at you and shrugging off any contact, your hands grasp my hips and you press your thumbs deep into pressure points in my lower back. The relief is instant, pain reducing to a level that didn’t make me want to vomit, and I exhale a moan into my elbows.

“Did we- find anywhere- else to- land?” I pant out.

You turn to Jimmy, who also heard my laboured question.

“Yes I did, it’s sooner than our original landing spot, but with the wind speed and direction we’re travelling… erm it’s still going to be at least another hour and half…” Jimmy admitted to us.

~•~

“I don’t think she’s going to last an hour and a half!” I rant at Jimmy while rubbing your back. He looks at me with an apologetic look in his eyes but didn’t say anything.

“Is there anything in here that we could use? A first aid kit at least?” I ask.

Jimmy digs under the shelf where his laptop sits and pulls out a tiny first aid kit. Leaving you for just a moment I take the first aid kit from Jimmy and open it - inside a small roll of gauze, some tape and a pair of round ended scissors.

“No idea if these will even be sharp enough to cut the cord… not that we could tie it off properly if we could.” I at least sounded like I knew what I was talking about though inside I was panicking at this point.

“Quick…” you groan as the next contraction builds and I rush over to hold your hand, feeling you squeeze tight.

~•~

I take your hand, gripping hard, and twist around towards you curling into your embrace. I hang on to you as the contraction takes hold, the pain sharp and the pressure constant. You notice the sounds I’m making with each contraction are getting deeper, now lowing instinctually with every peak.

A minute slowly passes but the contraction doesn’t fade. I’m still shifting and groaning in your arms.

“Hoooooo- No…. Oh no no no…” I suddenly whimper, panting erratically.

“What is it?” You ask worriedly.

I lift my head up, seeing the apprehension in your eyes. “I- hooohooohoo- no…. not now….”

“Baby, talk to me. I need to know so I can help you.” You plead, cupping my face.

“I think… ooohh- I think I need to push…” I say as I bite my bottom lip, breathing heavily through my nose.

~•~

It was my turn for my face to go white. “Now? No! God, no… not now!” I pleaded to the open air around us. You weren’t listening, or at least not responding, deep breaths being sucked in and puffed out to try and regain a moment of calm before the contractions happen all over again.

“You can’t push. No one has checked you… are you dilated? You might injure yourself. You have to wait until we land!” I’m rambling at this point. Instinctively I know there’s nothing we can do to stop it and it happens when it happens but the only thing going through my head is ‘we’re all alone up here.’

“Please baby do your best. You can’t push… please” I plead.

~•~

The contraction eventually begins to fade, and taking with it the urge to push. I can’t help the smile that pulls my lips hearing your string of panicked questions and your flustered demeanour. Placing a hand to your chest, I calmly say “Honey, breathe.” Echoing the words you’ve previously said to me. “It’s okay, it’s passed now.”

“Oh god, you scared the life out of me.” You pull me closer, wrapping your arms around my waist. “So… you’re doing okay now?”

“Yes, I’m okay now, we both are.” I reassure you, holding the swell of my stomach that’s nestled between us.

You crouch right down so you’re eyelevel with the bump, both your hands splayed wide across its surface. Looking up at me over the swell you mutter “Can’t believe we’re going to meet our baby.”

I giggle, placing my hands over yours. “I know, hopefully not too soon though.” My breath suddenly hitches with a sharp inhale. “Oooohhhh here comes another one. Quick, hold me-” I manage to spit out before the contraction steals my speech and buckles my knees.

~•~

You sink down to your knees, your head nestling into the crook of my neck as you flop your arms over either of my shoulders and leave them draped down my back. I feel your fists clench and release through the bouncing of your forearms as you let out a groan, muffled by the fabric of my tee shirt.

I whisper close to your ears “You’re doing great, keep on doing that, resist that urge to push.”

I feel your head bobbing into me, nodding as much as you could, not able to give me a verbal response.

Your knees are spread wide and I can only hope at this time that your stance being wide doesn’t foreshadow anything happening between them.

I glance to the side to see Jimmy moving towards us to push past my back. He was fiddling with a few ballast bags on the side of the basket, pulling them in and pushing them to the opposite side of the basket.

He didn’t say anything, but after shoving the bags over the other side, re-securing their fixings and letting them out over the edge he went back to the gas controls.

Suddenly we felt the unmistakable feeling of descent, the slight jump in the pit of our stomachs.

“Are we nearly there?” You asked. The contraction was ebbing away and your voice was croaky, only barely loud enough to hear.

“Sorry” came Jimmy, and once more he sounded genuinely apologetic. “We need to drop down a bit to catch a different wind current to get to the new destination. Still got an hour or so.”

Your head dug back into my shoulder. That wasn’t what you wanted to hear.

~•~

“An hour?! Hooooo- I don’t know if the baby is going to wait that long…” I whisper quietly in your ear, not wanting to admit it too loudly as that would make it real.

“Shhhh, it’ll be okay baby.” You quietly reply as you rub my back. “You’re doing great, keep resisting the urge. It’s not time to push yet…. It can’t be” you added so quietly, whispering to yourself. Hoping.

“The baby feels so so low…ughhh… even without a contraction the pressure… so much pressure.”

“I know darling, but you’ve got this. We’ll be back on the ground before we know it. Just hold on a little bit longer.” You look skyward, pleading to the universe. You really didn’t want to have to deliver this baby at 2,000 feet.

As the balloon dropped to its new level, the basket got caught on a rogue strong gust of wind, jolting everything and everyone inside as it swayed abruptly. With our arms wrapped around each other, we nearly toppled over but managed to stay upright as we both instinctually widened our knees for balance.

“Are you okay?” You ask me, our hearts thumping in shock.

I could only nod as another contraction started not long after the basket steadied itself.

“Jeeze, Jimmy what the hell was that?!” You shout towards our pilot.

“Sorry guys, that was a bit of a rough one.” He joked, readjusting his equipment that had dislodged

Meanwhile the contraction raged through me, every muscle seemingly tense and solid. My hips were screaming, forced apart by the large head barrelling towards my cervix. The pressure… it was too much. My knees were too wide. I couldn’t hold off any longer, I had to push…my body deciding to act of its own accord. Bearing down, a long and low grunt suddenly rattles from my throat against your neck.

~•~

I’d been paying careful attention to your grunts and moans over the past hour or so as concern grew and grew, but the new noises you were making were different. I looked at your face and saw your scrunched up eyes, the blown out cheeks and I suddenly realised.

“No!” I snapped. You didn’t respond. “Don’t push, baby, you can’t. You need to be checked. You know you can’t push until you’re fully dilated. Please… don’t want you to get injured.”

The end of the push came, you opened your eyes. There were tears there, frustration, pain, panic… who knows but all you could answer in response was “I have to push right now!” Soon you’re at it again.

~•~

“Can’t- help- it…mnghhhhhh!” My hands claw at your shoulders, using you to balance as my hips sink lower and my body pushes hard. “Oooohh… I can feel it… baby is moving…down!”

“Shit. Okay, okay.” You try and rationalise and plan, working out what the hell we were going to do now. “Baby, is this it? Is this really happening now?” You ask me.

“Ughhh! I think so… feels very real to me hooo!”

“Then we’ve got to take your panties off. We need to see if you’re fully dilated, if you should even be pushing right now.” Your brows furrow with concern and sympathy with every hitch of breath and groan of pain, knowing this was about to escalate very quickly.

Your hands disappear under my dress and find the dampened fabric of my underwear from my broken waters. You roll them down my thighs but keep them hidden from view beneath my knee-length dress, not wanting to alert Jimmy to what was happening. It was just you and me right now.

“Tell me when this contraction is over, then I can try and see if I can work out how dilated you are.” You say softly, trying to keep me calm and reassured in this far-from-ideal situation.

I nod in understanding, grunting once more in an uncontrollable push before gasping for breath at its end. “Hoooo-hoooo I think it’s passed…” I croak quietly to you.

~•~

I look up to check and see Jimmy occupying himself with his duties, not looking at us. Blowing out my own breath to calm myself I lower you down, so you’re on your hands and knees in front of me.

I stand up and move around behind you. Lifting the back of your dress up, I roll it up to expose your ass, your wide opened legs stretching your panties around your knees.

I let out an involuntary gasp. It’s not lost on you.

“What is it” you gasp. I describe the scene in front of me. Whilst your lips hadn’t yet parted, the baby’s head was definitely bulging, sitting just inside of you. I’d no medical training, but could only presume that we were at the stage where each push had the head begin to show and retreat as you stopped the effort. I explained to you that we were well past the point of needing to check your dilation, and right now we need to get you more comfortable to push… first task will be to get those panties off you so you could open up freely.

I looked up and that’s when I saw Jimmy looking straight at us, wide eyed like a deer caught in the headlights.

~•~

“I hope you’ve got some blankets or something up here Jimmy, cos this baby is going to be born before we reach the ground.” You warn him sternly, snapping him out of his panicked staring.

Ignoring our pilot, you focus your attention back to me - shifting and squirming on hands and knees, the dress still lifted showing just how close the baby was to this world.

“How are you holding up darling?” You ask quietly to me.

“Mhhhh- like there’s a bowling ball stuck in my vagina-” I snap with a gruff.

“Right let’s get those panties off before the next contraction so you’re free to move.”

My hands and knees were planted so heavily on the floor of the basket, I couldn’t move. The idea of raising either of my knees to free my underwear seemed too Herculean a task. You had to manoeuvre around me, holding me steady and pulled the garment free from my legs.

As soon as I was free my knees automatically spread opening up my hips further to ease the unbearable pressure in my pelvis. I know you wanted to move me for the next contraction, but I could already feel it approaching. Pressure was building and building, the baby pushing against my opening. With my ass still on full display I went down to my elbows, my forehead almost kissing the floor with my hips up pointing to the sky, and I succumbed to my instincts and pushed.

You held me steady as I pushed, watching in fascination as the bulge got bigger. The sounds I was making had turned primal, instinctual, and you could tell I had mentally retreated into myself and on the job I had to do.

“Oh my god… I think I can see the head!” You cried out after a forceful push showed the smallest sliver of the baby’s head appear just behind my lips.

~•~

My exclamation caused you to lose your focus, immediately stoping pushing and causing the sliver of the head to slide back in. Biology won out though as you were forced to push again only a few moments later and once more the first glimpse of our baby was clear to see again.

You grunt with relief as the contraction finally passed - with the head slipping back out of view again - but you were buoyed by my enthusiasm.

Jimmy, taking a moment to interrupt with a cough managed “sorry no towels or anything… it’s not intended to be used for ferrying the sick, wounded or I guess labouring mothers to be”

“Help me up” you gasp as you pull on my arms. I move around to grab you under the armpits and heave you up, you dress slipping back down your legs covering your modesty again.

“Here it comes” you grunt as you echo the position you’d been in only a moment ago, your arms under my armpits, one hand holding the other wrist, the other gripping tight to my tee shirt in a balled fist. You planted your legs wide and almost growled with effort as the next contraction ramped up.

~•~

My body trembled against you as I pushed, my arms so tight around you grasping at your clothes. Your frame the only thing keeping me upright, the smell of your aftershave the only thing keeping me from panicking. It was an effort to get up but I needed the gravity, something telling me to stand up, to bring the baby down.

“Oh god…” I moaned out heavily against your neck “I can f-feel the head…” my knees squatting slightly during the push, opening up for the baby to peak through.

But when the contraction was over, and the pushing stopped, the head slipped backwards and I whimpered a sob on your shoulder.

The effort of pushing had dampened the back of my neck and hair with sweat, and beads of it glistened on my forehead. Though it was early evening the sun was still bright and warm in the sky, making my temperature soar. Every pore of my skin seemed to tingle, aggravated by the fabric of my dress. My entire being was overheating. I felt like I couldn’t quite catch my breath; the air too hot, my skin too tacky.

I shifted in your arms, uncomfortable, frustrated. I needed to do something but couldn’t find the words. You noticed me pulling at the hem of my dress and knew what my subconscious was trying to do. Still holding me upright, your hands roamed my back and found the zip of my dress, pulling down, helping to free me from the cotton prison.

~•~

Your eyes opened as I reached down and grabbed the base of your dress, suddenly realising what I was doing. You stretched your arms out, hands placed lightly on my shoulders as my body raised up, pulling the dress with me as I went.

The first thing I noticed was the bump stopped the dress from coming up. I had to tug it a little to get it unstuck. I pulled it up over your breasts and over your head, then releasing it from one arm to the other until it hung loosely from my fist, draping on the floor.

The sigh of satisfaction as you felt the cool breeze rush over your exposed, overheated skin, instantly cooling you was palpable. You were now naked except for your sports bra you had put on this morning for comfort.

You gripped hard on my shoulders again, the next contraction building as you managed to grunt out “that feels so nice… but don’t you dare lose that dress. I need it to get home.”

~•~

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” You whispered back to me with a laugh.

I held on tight to you as the contraction took hold; my body pushing, squeezing, opening for the baby.

“Keep going baby, you’re doing wonderfully.” You offered words of encouragement against the moaning I was making in your ear.

“I don’t feel like I’m making any- mnghhh- progress.” I say releasing the push with a huff.

When the contraction had waned I shifted out of your hold a bit. Holding the underside of my low bump I swayed gently, facing outwards towards the stunning horizon, letting the cool breeze wash over my skin in the break I was given.

“How long til we land now?” I dared to ask our pilot, who’d been giving us a wide birth since I started openly pushing.

“We’re getting closer, I’d say just under 45 minutes.” Jimmy answered simply, completely avoiding looking in my direction.

“Do you reckon - hoooo… we’ve got any hope of making it to land before this baby c-comes?” I ask in vain, taking one hand off my bump to hold the side of the basket, my hips shifting round in wide circles.

Your hesitation gives me all the answers I need. Still you reply “Whatever happens babe, you can do this. And I’ll be right by your side.”

“Well you’re not exactly going to go anywhere.” I joke before a contraction suddenly strikes and I hiss through my teeth.

Standing in the a corner of the basket I grasp the padded railing with both hands, gripping the cushioning so hard my knuckles whiten. The baby presses lower and lower and I rock, and groan and push alongside its efforts. My hips jut backwards towards you, my back flat as I lean into the baskets edge, nearly wailing with the efforts of the push.

“Can- can you see… ohhhh…. Is it coming out now? Mghhhhh!!!” I cry out mid-push.

~•~

“I can see it baby, I can see it!” Even against all of my natural instincts to panic I’m getting invested in your progress and can’t help but get excited as things show progress. The bulge between your legs was now significantly bigger than when I had first noticed it, and whenever you were pushing, the head was forming into a genuine teardrop shape, though still not holding its place when you stopped.

“Shit” came the voice from Jimmy. Panicking, expecting to get some bad news, my eyes shoot over to him just to see him staring straight at you, focused clearly on the dark patch between your legs.

“Don’t you dare freak out or feint… there’s 4 of us in this basket relying on you to get us safely on the ground” I admonished. Jimmy in turn shook his head and thanked me, breaking his reverie and focusing back on the laptop.

Focusing back on you, you grunt as you push again. “You’re doing so good baby. I can see the head a lot when you push. Keep focused… if you want, you can reach down when you push and feel it yourself”

~•~

I tentatively release one hand's grip on the barrier, the excitement in your voice making me desperate to feel the baby. But I can’t seem to let go, the effort of pushing is too consuming and I’m scared to let go of the support. I give a loud grunt with a big push, feeling my lips starting to burn with the stretch.

But then it’s over, contraction faded, and I bring myself back up to standing. Feeling more confident without a contraction to let go of the support, I place one of my hands between my thighs and I can feel it; just behind my slightly parted lips is our baby.

“Oh my- wow!” I exclaim, making first contact with our child. “I can feel them, that’s our baby.”

“I know, and you’re doing wonderfully darling. We’ll be meeting them soon” You say, grinning ear to ear and stepping towards me.

“It’s got hair!”

“That’s not surprising, considering the amount you’ve got.” You joke and stroke the thick locks of hair that cascade past my shoulders, tucking wayward strands behind my ear.

“Do you think it’ll be a boy or a girl?” I ask, my fingers still delicately stroking the bit of head that’s peaking out.

“I’ve told you I don’t mind. As long as they are healthy and happy.”

“I know, I know…. I’m kinda hoping for a girl though…” I admit.

I feel the next contraction brewing, but I don’t want to remove my hand from my crotch. Instead I back into the corner of the basket, keeping one hand on my baby and the other flying out towards you for support.

My body sinks into a squat when the contraction hits and everything squeezes downwards. I take a big gulp of air and push… hard, feeling the baby’s head inch forward into my palm.

~•~

My hand reaches out to you, your hand on my shoulder and my hand in turn resting just under where your bra strap rests. As you sink down I follow you, ultimately ending on my haunches so I’m eye level with you. Whilst you’re desperate to close your eyes during the push you fight to keep them open and look into my eyes, my smiling demeanour giving you a level of comfort in this trying time. Suddenly I lean forward and place my second hand over yours so we are both cupping your lips. I feel the roundness of your hand as it envelops the bulge there and get in close. “Push!” I urge.

There’s no stopping you, your cheeks are puffed out and your brow is furrowed but you keep your eyes on me. Your mouth is wide and groaning as you make the effort but still we keep that connection.

My hand is pressed outwards as is yours as your lips part and your fingers rub the slick, surprisingly spongy mass slowly making its way out from between your legs.

You suck in your breath as you need a moment to get your strength as I say “again?” and you’re back at it, groaning loud and low, the hand on my shoulder grasping hard.

~•~

It was just you and me at that moment, the rest of the world completely shut out. You and me, together bringing our baby into the world.

My chest heaves with every rasped breath, my breasts resting atop the large pregnant swell that hung between my open thighs. My boobs had gotten bigger as I approached the end of this pregnancy and this bra was the only one that didn’t pinch.

Your eyes light up as we both feel the head sliding forwards into our hands. But the pain is astronomical and I’d lose myself entirely to it if you weren’t beside me right now. The baby fills even more of my palm and I can’t help but cry out “…Hurts…. Burning…” in between my laboured breaths.

The contraction starts to ebb away but I don’t want to lose this progress. It’s almost too much to bear if the baby slides back again now. I give a final long grunt, pushing as hard as I could while the contraction was still present, huffing as I release the push and hoping the baby stays put.

~•~

I watch in awe as I see you put incredible effort into a push, your face both incredibly contorted and at the same time, focused on it’s one task. Your hand moves away from between your legs, batting mine back at the same time. It twists and grabs my fingers, as my eyes sink down to the area that was previously covered.

Your hand squeezes my fingers as you let out a roaring sound, unlike any I’d heard so far. The hand on my shoulder digs in to the point where I’m certain your nails will leave embedded marks, but still my eyes focus between your legs.

In front of my eyes I see your lips spread around the head moving out, red, firey skin moulding outwards, spreading like a petal on a flower. The teardrop shape of the head, expanding outwards.

You gasp. “Burning… burning… burning, hurts” it’s almost incoherent babbling at this time, but whatever you were doing had some positive effect, as once I see your shoulders sag, right there between your legs was the most perfect oval of darkened, matted, soggy hair that I had ever seen.

“You did it baby!” I yell in triumph. That’s when I realised that you weren’t paying attention. It’s clear that at this point, there’s nothing you can do but focus on the ring of fire between your legs. It’s all consuming at this point, your knees are quivering trying not to lose control, your hands are squeezing and digging nonstop. Your eyes are closed and scrunched hard.

Youre gasping “Pull it out! Help me!” There’s nothing I can do at this point but sympathise as you struggle at this most gruelling stage of the process.

~•~

I can’t think, I can’t speak, I can’t move. I’m entirely lost in this moment; blinded by the pain of being stretched far beyond anything I thought possible. But it was more than just the spreading of my sensitive lips - my hips were wrenched apart, the baby shoved against my pelvis, the nauseating feeling of being so… full. I couldn’t take it.

My body started to tremble, you could feel it beneath the hold you had on my ribs and you could see me shaking in front of your eyes.

“I can’t do this!” I wailed, eyes scrunched and tears leaking past my lashes. “It’s too big! Uhhhh- fuck. Help me.”

“Oh baby…” you whispered, your heart breaking at seeing me in so much pain. “I know, but you are so close. You can do this.”

“I c-can’t!” I sobbed.

“Yes, you can. You are the strongest, bravest woman I have ever met. You can do anything, and you can do this. Just a little bit longer, I promise. Then when the next contraction comes, you push with everything you’ve got, okay? The head is almost here…”

I nod. That’s all I can manage. My head lolls forward, both my hands clawing at your shoulders, my entire body trembling, and we wait. We wait through agonising second after agonising second for the next contraction.

~•~

Soon it’s upon you. “It’s coming” you manage, before gripping me tightly again and dropping your chin down, closing your eyes and giving it all you’ve got.

I watch the oval shape between your legs quiver and a few seconds later start to move. You gasp, taking a breath and start again, still in mid contraction. More movement.

“Go! Go! Go!” I’m chanting, it seems to help. Finally your lips turn white, all blood drained from around them as they are stretched to their widest point.

You gasp and start panting, something primal in your memories from videos we have watched telling you to pant out the last push, and suddenly there’s a rush. You jump. There’s a gush of more fluid. My eyes go wide, and teary, what I’m seeing seems both the most natural thing in the world and at the same time the most unreal thing ever.

Deep in your squat, dangling between your legs, is the back of a baby’s head.

Your hand lets go of mine and reaches down to hold it. You’re bewildered, somewhat exhausted and sore, but you’ve accomplished a major milestone.

~•~

Gasping, my fingers delicately roam the whole circumference of the head that’s now outside of me. “Oh… hi baby.” I say softly to our child.

I look up at you and see the tears in your eyes. “Oh my god… oh my god…” I sob through my smile, not quite able to form any other words through the relief and awe of what’s just happened.

Your hand joins mine, cupping the head together as you lean forward to kiss me. It’s salty with my sweat and tears. “You, are incredible.” You whisper, our foreheads pressed together.

In no time at all, the respite is over and I’m squirming and shifting again in your arms from an approaching contraction. Letting go of our baby’s head my hands brace against my thighs.

“Hooooo- babe, need to move…” I groan, my legs and ankles suddenly protesting against the deep squatting position.

“Do whatever you need to do, where do you want to be?” You ask, trying to second guess what I’d want but also knowing I was acting entirely on natural instinct.

I couldn’t speak, instead my hands used your torso as a ladder - lifting myself up and getting down onto my knees, my feet pointed behind me in a v-shape. I felt instantly more stable, more in, kneeling so close to the floor.

The baby was on its way, its arrival immanent, I could sense it. Some primal instinct in my very DNA unlocked. I needed less physical support while on my knees so my hands released you, instead reaching behind to unclasp my bra. In my haste to remove my final layer of clothing, I forgot where we were for a moment and it was only on seeing your raised eyebrows I realise I’d whipped my bra off and casually thrown it overboard.

~•~

I couldn’t help it. I knew instinctively that I should be looking at you, but something made me follow the trajectory of your discarded underwear as I watched it soar over the side. My eyes followed it over the edge and as I lifted myself up off my haunches back to standing, I noticed the ground was very much closer than what I had expected.

“Jimmy… what’s happening?” I bellow out to our pilot. My brain went ‘he’s fainted, we’re going to crash’ and my natural instinct was to panic, but my eyes were drawn back to you, kneeling on the ground, hands back between your legs supporting the head of our baby. I couldn’t turn and look for him. Thankfully he returned the question with his own shouted answer.

“We’re nearly there. School field is just over there.” Relieved at his response, I briefly turned my head to look at him, to look at where his hand was pointing. I followed the direction and I saw blue lights in the distance. I saw a wide open area, which was the football and athletic fields of a school. I didn’t recognise it, but I knew we were nearly down. Your bra had landed in some unfortunate persons back garden. Might be some explaining to do for the occupants later.

I heard you grunt as my attention was drawn back to you. You looked radiant, like some sort of primal goddess, nude and backlit by the sun. I saw the baby had turned and you had started to push. Your grunts were audible as you pushed your hips forward, opening up the passage for the baby, your hands gently cupping its head.

Another grunt, and the first shoulder was free. A second grunt and the second shoulder. I dashed forward and skidded to the ground, stopping just in front of you with my hands skimming the ground between your legs, and more importantly directly under the baby which was out to its torso.

And with a triumphant yell from you, it flopped down into my hands, slick, covered in vernix, remnants of blood, and flooding my hands with yet more amniotic fluid.

“You did it baby…” I’m almost shocked thinking it’s all over.

~•~

Pure relief flooded through my entire body as the baby slipped into both of our awaiting hands. My mouth was dry, my brain in shock, and I’m only able to mumble “baby… baby…” over and over as I pick up the slippery newborn and immediately bring them to my bare chest. The need to see, to hold, to nurture was completely overpowering.

When the baby made its first gurgling cry against me I thought my heart may explode. I sagged back into the floor, exhaustion taking hold, and stared at the baby in my arms. Their little scrunched up face as they cried, their tiny hands with ten little fingers, their small feet with ten tiny toes. I had to see every inch of our baby, to check they were okay, and when I readjusted them against the curves of my body I announced “It’s a girl!”

You knelt next to me in the corner of the basket, looking over my shoulder totally transfixed and enamoured with our newborn. “You did it baby, I’m so proud of you!” You cupped my head and kissed the side of my face, my cheek, my shoulder, and eventually my lips. You couldn’t stop the emotional wave washing over you at the sight of your wife and newborn daughter beside you, wrapped in your arms.

I couldn’t quite believe it was over - the baby was here. Born in the basket of a hot air balloon. I stared down at our daughter and giggled to myself.

“What is it?” You asked, not able to wipe the beaming smile off your face.

“I can’t believe she’s here. That that just happened. That I just gave birth in a bloody hot air balloon!” The stress from the situation and relief that we were all alright had turned to exhausted hysteria, I simply couldn’t help the laughter.

“I guess she just wanted to make a grand entrance into this world.” You cooed, looking down at the infant already nuzzled against my breast.

“I think she might be a little troublemaker.”

“Just like her mother then.” You teased, kissing me again.

~•~

“Hang on tight” comes a call from Jimmy giving us a few seconds of warning where I grabbed hold of you as the balloon finally touched the ground with a thump. I threw your dress over you to cover your modesty as I got up to walk over and thank Jimmy for how well he had done in outrageous circumstances.

As I saw 2 paramedics dash towards the balloon as the gas valves were cut and the balloon itself started sinking to the ground behind us, I heard you give another groan.

“Baby?” I turn and look at you.

“I don’t know… another contraction.” You replied.

I dashed over. “No, can’t be. We had scans… there was only one baby in there.”

As the first paramedic threw their bag over the side of the basket at vaulted over the top I looked at them pleading.

“I don’t know what’s happening. The baby is born but she’s still having contractions. Is something wrong?”

“Let’s take a look see and figure this out, I’m sure it’s fine” came the professional sounding reply as his partner came on board.

They knelt down and looked you over, checking over the baby and declaring that everything was ok. They took a moment to clamp the baby’s cord, and rubbed your belly a little.

“Ok my dear… this looks good. Give me a good strong push” they instructed.

I gasped “is there another in there? We didn’t know.” The stress of the day was getting to me.

“No sir. Your wife is just ready to pass the afterbirth.” As he said it, he collected the placenta from between your legs and checked it over for completeness. “Well done, looks like this is about as close to a textbook delivery as can be… you know except for flying through the air whilst doing it.”

To say I breathed a sigh of relief would be an understatement.

[wolfiesmoon]

Eyes on me

floyd x gn!reader

Its rlly hard writing this w one hand because i had a bit of a medical emergency last night (in fact i'm in the hospital as i'm typing this) but we survive

so imagine my surprise when i got my baby boy floyd in all his basketball glory (as a consolation from the sevens i assume)

long story short this calls for a floyd fic

(also i use the word stadium a lot here, by that i mean a more small, local stadium and not one of those big NBA league ones)

"I told you, I'm not playing." Floyd crossed his arms and pouted like a little toddler. "Floyd. This is an important match. We have no time for one of your tantrums." Jamil tried reasoning with him, but it was all for naught. It seems like Floyd is inconsolable right now.

The coach was very close to losing it at this point. The match was drawing closer and closer and Floyd's mood was getting worse and worse.

The team could already hear the people coming into the stadium.

"What are you even so sad about?" Ace questioned, getting a bit annoyed with Floyd.

"Little Shrimpy promised to come see me but isn't here yet... " Floyd glanced at the people sitting on the bleachers, searching for your face in the crowd. When he didn't see you, his pout increased.

"... That's why you're refusing to play?" Jamil couldn't believe his ears. Neither could anyone else in the club right now. Is this dude really 17 years old? He seems like a bit of an overgrown 5 year old right now.

Well, the coach knew he was taking a risk when placing Floyd on the team seeing as things like this are very likely to happen. All he can do now is hope you actually show up so he won't have one potentially amazing player less.

.

"Oh crap, Floyd's match! I almost forgot!" You quickly got up, startling your classmates. You had to stay with some of them to work on a group project professor Crewel gave you. "Anyone wanna come watch basketball with me?"

A few of your classmates agreed to go while others said they had plans to get to.

And so you went.

"Can't believe you forgot it, idiot." Grim scolded you. "Oh yeah? and who was the one sleeping away in my lap while we had to do all the work?" you shot back and he grumbled something under his breath as a response.

The two classmates going with you huffed in amusement at your reply.

By now, you were already at the entrance to the stadium. You saw Floyd play before at practice and you know how good he can get when he's fired up. But you also know how he can be when the opposite is true.

You just hope he's in a good mood right now. If he isn't, you'll just cheer for him until he is.

You sat down on the bleachers, chatting with your classmates about the project as you waited for the match to start.

.

"Hey, isn't that the Prefect right the-ack!" Ace got pushed away by Floyd who's eyes immediately scanned the bleachers again. When he saw you, his eyes lit up and a wide smile spread across his face.

"Shrimpy is here!~" the sudden change in mood surprised even the coach. Well, he supposes the issue is solved now.

His eyes darkened, however, when he saw you laughing with your classmates. You're here for him, not some rando dudes from your class.

Suddenly, he feels determined to play so well you won't take your eyes off him for even a second. He'll make sure of it.

"Hey. We're going to beat the other team so hard they cry. Got it?" he suggested with a horrifying expression on his face. The entire team felt too afraid to do anything but nod in agreement.

That's the second mood change he had in a matter of 30 seconds. Now the entire team is just generally concerned for him.

As the NRC team walked out, you smiled at Floyd and waved to him, Grim raising his little paw to wave too. He smiled back at you widely, flailing his arms around like an excited child at you. When he looked away, however, his expression darkened once more.

Better keep your eyes on him the whole time or someone from the other team might not make it out unscathed.

[mahg-stuff]

Hi. Can I request a big daddy elvis (late 70s) in which he and female reader are having an argument and he says something really mean so she heads into the bedroom and cries. He goes into the bedroom to apologize and then make out. Smut, detailed if you can and also some aftercare. Thanks

Tysm for the request! Enjoy it lovee! ♡

Kiss'n make it better

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Word count: 6.4k (quick) Summary: Bde grows stuffy as he witnesses you playing a card game with the guys, but not only that, you are in your delicate bed attire while you do it. Pairing: (1976)bd!elvis x afab!reader Warnings: 18+!, smut, p in v, elvis finally fully takes the reader, cherry cream pie (if you know what I mean...), kissing whilst bodily fluids are present on the mouth, tasting of bodily fluids, playing around with spit?oral fixation?, mention of elvis’ medications/pill use & dr. nick (im sorry), elvis’ standards for his women, toxicity, once again elvis being volatile, use of the word daddy, & of course fluff + baby talk!!

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AN: Hello there! I was off and on while writing this since I was eager to let it out soon bc I felt I’d left the anon hanging for too long so, certain areas may seem rushed/lack context but I did my best with the details! I hope it’s not a bother, but overall I enjoyed writing this little piece. Anywho, my dear anon I hope you are pleased with this! And to the rest of you loves, enjoy! ♡ (keep the requests coming!!😚)

- pls excuse any errors, your girl got tired half way through cleaning it up 🥹💋

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Elvis was, as of now, getting his day-by-day measurements of meds from Dr. Nick within the master bathroom in his room. In the meantime, you held up in his bed, twiddling your thumbs as you waited, you both had just woken up. He would always make sure to do it in a different room, given that you had eventually told him that you didn't enjoy seeing everything they put in him. When you witnessed firsthand how much his body had to ingest, you expressed your concern, but he waved you off, saying everything was always under control.

At some point, you stopped showing concern upfront to him because it had resulted in the first argument between the two of you, however, you'd unconsciously always be pinching away at your arm's flesh as you worried about him. You were still relatively new to his lifestyle, but you were gradually adapting.

Things were taking quite a while, so you began wandering around his room. You'd only been together for a few months now, so you were still trying to settle in. Elvis asked you to move in right away, and you soon found out he didn't like being left alone. As you moved around the room, you were still in your night slip. It was a look that he found especially appealing. You tip-toed barefoot to the door, peeking outside, and then back over to the closed bathroom door in the bedroom. 

You heard them mumbling inside and decided, Why not go downstairs? 

Making your entrance to the living room and taking in more glances of the house you hadn't paid much attention to before, your eyes shot up towards the voices in the kitchen. As you peered into the kitchen, you saw two of his guys sitting there chatting with some cards in their hands. They took notice of your presence and glanced over at you, their eyes lingering on your attire. Going quite unnoticed by you. 

One clears his throat.

"Hey there, y/n, ya need anythin'?" 

You shrug, not really knowing what you need or want, but feeling a bit restless. 

"No, just bored waiting on El," you reply absentmindedly. 

One of the guys chuckles and nudges the other, whispering something to him. You catch a snippet of their conversation and wonder if they're talking about you.

"What's so funny?" you ask, tilting your head in confusion. 

The guys exchange glances before one of them speaks up, struggling to find the right words. 

"Oh, nothin', just...you know...we were just talkin' 'bout how...um...how fashionable you look today." 

You give them a skeptical look, not fully convinced by their compliment. 

"Really? They're just my pajamas, the first thing I found in the closet last night," you admit with a sheepish shrug as you look down at your delicate garments. 

They both burst into laughter, causing you to giggle along. The guys exchange knowing glances, struggling to contain their amusement at your naivety. Being new in Elvis' life and feeling a bit clueless around the guys sometimes—I mean, you'd never been surrounded by so many men before, so it was uncommon for you to catch their brash ways.

 

One of the guys begins talking, "Since you're bored, why don't ya join us? We're playin’ a card game." 

You happily agree and take a seat at the table. They explain the rules to you as one of them shuffles the deck of cards. The game soon progresses, and the guys bring out their competitive sides, teasing each other and making playful taunts. Even though they might’ve been acting a little abruptly, it was clear that they were enjoying themselves. Amidst the banter, one of the guys turns to you with a mischievous grin. 

"Hey, watch out, I wouldn't want ya to get too confused with all these cards. It might be a bit too much for a girl to handle," he says snarkily. 

You titter and shake your head, clearly letting the comment go over and past your head. 

"I can handle." 

You say it humbly.

***

Elvis, grumbling his way downstairs to look where you'd wandered off, stops at the bottom of the stairway as he hears his precious girl's laughter from the kitchen. He stalks quietly towards the doorframe of the kitchen, there he sees you sitting pretty with his men. He scans your body until he gets to your bare, wriggling sooties that are dangled just above the ground in the chair. Elvis clenches his fists, feeling his irritation rise at the sight of you playing with the guys.

As he watches, he can't help but notice the unkempt yet alluring exterior you possess. Your tousled hair and streaked makeup from the night before only seem to enhance your beauty, giving you a tempting appeal that could captivate those around you. He had set certain expectations for you, and seeing you in this compromising situation with the guys confirms that you were not fulfilling them. He storms in, his footsteps echoing through the room as he confronts the scene before him. 

"Darlin', you know bedder than to be gallivantin' 'round in your night attire with these fellas." He narrows his eyes, his southern accent thickening as he speaks.

Your head quickly turned to that familiar gruff voice, his appearance matching the roughness in his tone. There he stood, portly and only in a silk robe, a region of dark hair trailing down his navel from the open slit and his luscious sideburns framing his face. His noir hair, slightly disheveled from a restless night, completed the picture of a man who demanded attentiveness. As you caught his gaze, you could see a mix of disappointment and fret in his eyes. You instinctively straightened up, feeling a twinge of shame creeping into your conscience for some reason as you looked down at your attire and then back at him. 

"Well, I thought it'd be okay. I mean, I do live here now. Shouldn't I be comfortable, El?" You voiced cunningly, not purposefully trying to provoke him but unable to resist the urge to justify yourself. 

But there was an inimitable standard he held you to, one that required impeccability and grace. 

"Goddammit!" He started. 

"No man's woman should be 'round men in such whorey showin' garments. 'Specially not mah women!" 

You blinked in surprise, taken aback by his strong reaction. The atmosphere in the room suddenly grew tense, and you could feel the weight of his disapproval pressing down on you. 

His pride was unexpected for you. 

As you searched for words to respond, his intense gaze never wavered, making you feel insecure and exposed. 

"W-Well, the guys think otherwise!" You spoke aloud as your throat tightened. Well, at least you thought they didn't find your attire whorey—a word Elvis had introduced to you when he saw an outfit you picked out while shopping with him. 

Elvis glared over at them, and they both quickly stood up from their positions, some cards falling off the table as they did so. 

"That right?" 

"N-No Ep, 'course not." They stood there longer than they should have. 

"The hell y'all still doin' standin' here, for?! Go on an' do sumn then." Elvis spoke sternly as he pointed, his robe falling more open with his motion. 

The guys hastily scampered away, not wanting to further incur Elvis' anger. You look at Elvis, noticing his neglected appearance and glazed eyes. Nervous, you place your cards down, your eyebrows puckering in disarray. 

"What was that, Elvis?" you ask softly, but your voice is filled with slight perplexity. 

"They didn't do anything." You squeaked. 

"Didn't do anyhtin'." He scoffed under his breath. He shook his head and met your gaze again. 

"Matter uh fact, the hell were you thinkin' wonderin' off?" His words were a bit slurred. 

"Know all yur attention should be on me, 'n only me." Elvis' words hung in the air, heavy with a mix of fury and vulnerability. 

You could sense an ache behind his harsh tone, and it struck a chord within you. 

"Elvis." You delicately said his name, the concern evident in your voice.

But before you could continue, he raised his voice again, his drooping eyes glaring. 

"Kept mah eyes off ya for just uh moment, den I find you playin' bimbo wit' 'em fellas." 

Your heart sank as Elvis' words echoed in the room. 

This wasn't your Elvis. 

Your bottom lip quivered as you stood up from your seat, covering your face with one hand as you moved to leave the room. 

"The hell are ya goin'." He says this as he tries to stop you, but you pull away forcefully and hastily walk upstairs. 

Elvis hears your faint sniffle from the hallway, followed by the sound of a door slamming shut. He paced around, mumbling words to himself as he held his forehead, trying to make sense of what just happened. 

It was clear that his head wasn't in the right place. 

***

As Elvis continued to pace, he barely grasps the impact of his words and considers the hurt he may have caused. 

"Baby," he muffles to himself as he looks around. 

He rubs his eyes and begins to walk towards the staircase. 

"Baby." He muffled again, as if he were whispering a plea into the empty space. 

He reaches the top step and hesitates, unsure of whether to knock on the closed bedroom door or barge right in. 

"B-Baby, a-a-ah wannas come in," he says gently in his gruff voice. 

"W-Wanna come in." Elvis stands in front of the door, his voice quivering with desperation. 

His babyish tone reveals the depth of his regret. Your ears perk up on the other side of the door, straining to catch every word. You can sense the turmoil in his voice, the vulnerability, and the longing.

It's a side of him you were weak for, and it tugs at your heartstrings.

Slowly, you rise from the bed, your footsteps barely audible as you make your way to the door. With a shaken hand, you turn the knob and open the door, revealing Elvis standing there, his eyes filled with a mix of hope and fear. He takes in your appearance—your tear stained cheeks, red, fuzzy nose, and the slight puffiness of your eyes. His face softens with concern, and without a word, he pulls you into a tight embrace. Your face buried into his exposed, hairy, warm torso through the opening of his robe. 

Feverishly, he brings his large palms up to either side of your face and pulls your face upwards. Taking in your babyfaced features. Your damp lashes flutter as you meet his gaze. 

"A-Ah made my little 'un cry." he mumbles as he grazes the pad of his thumb under your eye. 

"Y-Ya know ah ain't meant what I said back dere," he continues, his voice filled with veracity. 

"M-My temper… mah words came out wrong. A-Ah, wudnit wha I meant—", he trails off just before he wavers off, trying to focus his eyesight all of a sudden. 

As his eyelids droop, a gentle sigh escapes his lips. You can see the drowsiness etched across his weathered face, the lines deepening in the dim light of the room. 

It always tortured you when you saw him like this. 

You noticed it was one of the many effects the pills had on him, before starting him up, they'd slow him down first. 

Even with his abrupt weariness, you recognize that sincerity in his voice and the sorryness in his slumped eyes. You reached out and took his wrist, wrapping your fingers around it, offering a silent reassurance that you understood what he was trying to get out. 

You cared deeply for him, so forgiving him always came in a hurry for you.

***

As you both stood there, the grogginess began to fade, and his eyes soon became more and more focused. He took a deep breath, his chest rising and falling with each inhale and exhale. He gave your cheek a gentle squeeze. His gaze lingered on your face as he continued to graze his thumb gently on your cheek. 

"Let me m-make it up t-ta mah sweet girl, hmm." He says it so softly with that drawl of his.

As you listen to his soft voice, filled with tenderness and warmth, it becomes evident that he was speaking to you with the same affection one would reserve for a baby. One of his traits you had gotten used to and valued thoroughly. Your cheeks fill with warmth. He holds you by the waist, turning you over, and fully enters the bedroom with you. Shutting the door, he then leads you to the bed, helping you sit down on the edge. Elvis sits down beside you, and you feel the bed sink from his weight. 

He turns your face over to him, and he places a hand on your cheek. He begins caressing your face ever so lightly, as if you were made of spun glass. 

"Kiss'n make it better." He mumbles pouty-lippedly as his thumb runs over your lips. 

You stare into his hollow eyes, nodding, as he begins to push his thumb into your small mouth. Politely opening your mouth for him, the taste of his skin lingers on your tongue as his thumb explores the contours of your mouth. You both hold each other's gaze, and you lightly suckle on it, watching his eyes light up at your action. He gently brings his thumb out, a string of saliva dribbling down your lip. Elvis smudges your saliva all around your soft pout, making your lips appear glossy, then brings his thumb up to his lips to suck off your slobber. As you both continue your intimate encounter, the air around you seems to grow heavier. His fingers then work their way down your torso, tracing your dainty body. With a famished mutter, he slides his hand beneath your slip, teasingly grazing over your soft, small chest, giving one of your nipples a tug. You can't help but whimper at his action.

And want grows between you, feeling a surge of heat run from your face down to your toes. 

"C'mere, let ol’ daddy kiss ya," he leans in, capturing your lips in a fervent, persistent kiss. 

The taste of him fills your palate as he slips his tongue inside your pretty mouth. You find yourself feeling fuzzy in the rush of the moment, willingly giving into his actions. His large hands begin gripping your small waist, pulling you closer as he deepens the kiss. His supple kisses had always been tender and gentle, but this one was different. It left you almost breathless. His touch was heavy, and you found yourself slipping in the heat of the moment. Your slip rises upwards at his action, revealing the pair of tiny matching ruffled shorts. 

He breaks the kiss for a moment, his pillowy lips glistening. His eyes lock onto yours—a look of want. Elvis' hefty hand goes down to your upper thigh, and he grazes the fabric of your shorts. 

"Take 'em off, 'ittle." He rasps quietly, the bass of his voice sending shivers down your spine. 

Your breath hitches with a half-laugh. "Kay." You gently get off the bed and look over at him as he keenly stares at you with his still-glazed-over eyes. 

A look you may never get used to. 

You began pulling down at the hem of your waistband until the fabric hit the ground, being completely bare underneath. 

While the length of your slip fell just enough to cover your most delicate parts, he whispered, "Lemme see her." 

His voice is playful as he motions for you to come closer.

You take a step toward him. He reaches out and gently tugs at your hip, his thumb rubbing your hipbone, sending a muzzy feeling to your belly. With his other hand, he reaches over to the hem of the fabric, pulling it up—he throbs between his legs.

From his view, he could see all of you. Your narrow hips and thighs and the smallest patch of curls that covered your pussy. The little crease in the middle—so sweet, you were puffy, and sticky just from his kisses. You looked over at his garb—his robe now fully undone from all his movement, also nothing underneath. You took in as the section of his body hair went from his pudgy chest to his soft belly, which hung just barely over his waistline, and then turned into thick curls at his mound. His corpulent and hard, leaky cock presently standing tall just for you against his paunch. You gazed at the ridge of his pretty, purplish, rosy tip weep as it peeked from his foreskin.

Suddenly, you jolted as you felt his thumb at your swollen clit, a splotchy pink filling your cheeks. His touch was gentle yet firm, his fingers perfectly caressing your sensitive nub. You couldn't help but whimper, the lovely sound escaping your pursed lips as your hips instinctively bucked against his digit. 

"Ain't nothin' more purdy than seein' you all pink 'n warmed up. Could spend all day thumbin' away at that ‘dorable clit uh yours." He babbled as he applied more pressure and quickened the pace of his movements. 

Making you even more rosy. 

You could feel the heat building between your legs, the ache for release becoming almost unbearable. Every swipe of his thumb seemed to bring you closer to the edge, pushing you towards the brink of ecstasy. Your back began to arch as you leaned into his touch, but just as you were almost there, he pulled his thumb away. You let out a frustrated whimper, desperately wanting him to continue, then you went to cup yourself until he swiftly stopped you. 

"Dun cha get greedy on me now," he whispered, his voice coated with directness and a hint of humor. 

You couldn't help but pout, your need for satisfaction overwhelmed your senses. You ached. He had never stopped on the brink of your release like this before. His hand left your trembling body, resulting in you feeling empty and yearning for more. You watched as he brought his thumb to his lips, tasting the remnants of your sweet desire, a sly smile playing on his lips. The rosiness in your cheeks seems to grow darker with his action.

"Ah can't have ya fallin' apart jus yet," he murmured, his voice low. 

You looked at him doe-eyed as you clamped your legs, standing there. 

"Little 'un." Elvis whispered as he reached out for a hand. 

"Idenit time for ya to blossom," he continued as he pulled you closer, his warm breath hitting your cheek. "'ittle flower of yours needs ta bloom." Elvis gave you a nod as he spoke and guided you. 

"Bloom," you repeated as you held his strong gaze, and he began helping you lay on the bed. 

"Mhm, correct baby." He cooed as he helped you lie down. 

When you finally understood what he had said, your heart seemed to race. Staring up at the mirror above you on the ceiling, you took in as you laid delicately on his silk bedding. You began recalling the past nights and days of glancing up at yourself while Elvis rutted against your tummy when he cuddled you until he came, or when he'd only do little more than barely let the tip of his cock pierce your tiny hole—but never more than that. 

Now, he indicated that he wanted to take things further. You were both a little afraid and excited by it. Even so, you were genuinely more willing than ever. It made you rub your legs together thinking about it. You would constantly pester him for more, but he would tell you that it wasn't the right moment and that he knew when it would be. Thinking of his words from earlier, you thought maybe this would be his way of making it better after he'd lashed out. Maybe, he wanted to make it up to you by fully fulfilling your needs. You beamed at the thought.

Lost in your little mind, you were interrupted as you felt the bed sink next to you.

There he lay, still in his loose, silky garb, fully open, his hairy manliness laying solid against his belly while his balls were perfectly nestled below his shaft. You looked over at him as he began lying on his side to face you. His jawline was soft and his cheeks full, adding to the suppleness of his overall appearance. His overgrown sideburns adding to his rugged allure. The word ‘mesmerizing’ repeating in your head.

"Rest on yur side f'me, baby." You began turning over for him, but before you could, he stopped you—he saw the mild unease in your eyes. 

His hand cradled the side of your cheek as your eyes stared into his. However, he couldn't help but smile, thinking your muddled face looked adorable. 

"Hers dudden needs to be afraid." He whispered softly and patted your head now. 

With each light pat on your head, his warmth enveloped you, making you feel comforted in his presence. You smiled back at him softly, it sort of surprised you when he caught it. 

"H-Her knows." You whispered back in the same way he spoke to you. 

It was really rubbing off on you, for sure.

He leaned in, placed a gentle kiss on your cheek, and then motioned for you to rest on your side. Such a baby, you thought as you gave his chubby face one last glance. As you shifted onto your side, he scooted in closer, so he was spooning you, his round stomach pressing into you. You felt the hardness of his length up against your lower back, feeling the warmth radiating off as it throbbed against the thin fabric of your slip. You couldn't deny the growing ache between your legs, yearning for his touch and for him to take control. 

Elvis began lifting the hem of your garment, exposing your bare, pretty, round backside to him. His hand rested on the curve of your hip, his touch both firm and gentle. A shiver ran down your spine as his palm traced delicate patterns on your skin, sending those funny feelings through your body. You felt him move your leg a bit, so your pussy lips were peeking out between your thighs from his view. You felt him pulsing along your rear now, slick already forming at your petals. You couldn't help but arch your back, offering yourself to him completely. You heard him snicker behind you, bringing a blush to your cheeks. Elvis grabbed his thick shaft in one hand and brought it between your thighs, your slick and his precum mixing into one as he rubbed the ridge of his cock along your lips. 

Eagerly, you try to slide down, so his tip pushes up towards your entrance. 

"Careful, too big for yuh to take so fast," he warns as you bare down on his leaky tip. 

You move back unconsciously, and the head of cock grazes at your swollen clit causing you to shudder. 

Trying again, you huff, "Won't fit." 

Elvis is quite amused by this, and he tittered as he leaned into your neck for a quick peck. 

You feel his warm breath against your skin as he whispers, "Baby, needa take time t'stretch ya out properly." 

He trails his fingers along your inner thighs, teasingly rubbing circles on your sensitive heat. Your body reacts, flushing with chills and impatience. You can feel yourself clenching at nothing. Elvis raises the leg you weren’t resting on with his other arm, and you blush at how vulnerable you seem in the pose. He moves the hand he was massaging you with toward your mouth. You understood what he meant, of course. Carefully, you used your hand to hold the back of his large one as you carefully spit into it. You watch as Elvis gruffly giggles at your compliance as you gaze up at the mirror, his eyes peeking over you as he watches his hand lower back down.

Bringing his hand back down to your throbbing core, now slick with both your juices and saliva. His fingers glide along your folds, applying just the right amount of pressure to make you gasp. As his thumb brushes against your clit, a shudder runs through your body, aching for more. You arch your back, silently begging for his touch to become more demanding, more intense. His finger begins to pry at your snug cunt, slipping inside with ease from all your wetness. You feel him begin to inch a second finger inside of you, stretching you further and filling you completely. The sensation is overwhelming, his fingers deeper than you were used to. He would only nag at your hole in the past. You whimper as he starts to move his fingers in and out—a slow and deliberate rhythm. Your hips instinctively press down on his hand, seeking more friction and more of his lengthy fingers. You can't help but squeal, the sound escaping your lips as he curls his fingers inside you, hitting a sweet spot that makes your whole body shiver. You try closing your legs, but he still holds one up. He feels your leg shift and hears your cute squeal. Elvis lets go, letting your leg rest down, with a snicker as he looks over at you with a mischievous grin. Soothing his palm up and down against your thigh, he leaned to kiss your upper arm. 

"Ya kay, 'ittle?" he whispered in his southern drawl. 

You nod, unable to form words, as the sensations overwhelm you. 

Slowly, he removes his fingers from inside you, leaving you aching for more. But before you have a chance to say anything, Elvis is already positioning himself between your legs from behind. He catches a glimpse of your sweet little gaping hole that was dripping with want. He begins rubbing the ridge of his cock along your pussy, you feel his chest vibrate behind you from a low groan. His tip begins to ease in as he coos in your ear slowly. Without delay, he plunges inside you halfway, his lip curling at your tightness. You wail as he bucks his hips further, and you try to get away due to the harsh feeling of the big stretch. He carefully moves the arm he was resting on to go under your waist to hold you from your firm stomach as he hitches up the rest of your babydoll. Pulling you towards him, his gut pressing into you more. 

Taking a glance at your clenched fists and shut eyes, he grumbles, "S'okay baby, breathe." 

You gulp down and gasp, "'S't-too much." 

"Needa bit more little 'un." He croons and brings his empty hand to swipe at your clit from the front in order to break you in with more ease. 

With a final buck of his hips, he fills your sweet cunt completely, taking him all in. You cry out at the forceful pinch, your hand gripping at his hand that held you from your tummy. Elvis grunts loudly when you clench at his cock. 

"M-Mah god, baby, let loose f'me. You'll break me off wit' all tha squeezin'." He blurts out, his voice strained with pleasure and urgency.

Your body trembles against his, and he continues to swipe at your tender nub, wanting to bring any type of pleasure to you right now. Elvis glanced up at your face, a tear dribbling down from the corner of yours. He leaned in, kissing it away. Gently opening your glossy eyes, you look up towards the mirror, taking in the way you were both at last bound. His robe was still hanging loosely on his body, and his hair was tousled as he pressed his face into your nape. As you gripped him with your hand, you felt him grab hold of it and start pulling it down to your heat. Placing it between your thighs, where you and him connected, you traced his weighty balls over with your small hand. Indicating he was practically balls deep inside your dear little hole. 

"Yuh feel him inside ya." He whispered airily into your nape, the bass of his voice rumbling against your back. 

You blushed at his words, feeling a mixture of shyness and alertness. You nodded, unable to find the words to respond, as you focused on the sensation of him filling you completely. His hand remained on yours, guiding your movements as you continued to explore the intimate connection between your bodies. Your digits now covered by both yours and his fluids. Elvis let his hand loose and moved it over to your waist, both of his arms now holding you in a spoon position. As the initial sting began to fade and pleasure took its place, you began moving, slowly your movements against him became more confident. Each motion became braver as desire continued to build between you both. Your whimpers got louder, and you felt the hairs on your nape stand as you heard a little huff come from Elvis behind you. His grip on your waist tightens slightly, his breath warm against your skin as he buries his face into the crook of your neck. Pulling himself out slightly and then bucking into you again, causing you to let out a high-pitched moan as you experienced the overwhelming sensation for the first time. A dance of pain and pleasure intertwined within you. You were sure a trickle of blood had stained the satin sheets beneath you both as you felt the warm wetness building between you two. You were too busy taking in the feeling of his hardness inside you, he noticed as he peeked up at the mirror and saw you lying there with your small mouth gaping and your hand buried between your thighs where he had left it. 

"Touch yuh'self sweetheart." He grunted into your ear as he strained himself from moving his hips too harshly, his grip on your waist still firmly in his arms.

You complied, your fingers danced over your sensitive folds, slick with arousal, and maybe more, until they found your swollen clit. As you began to rub circles around it, your moans grew louder and more dire, echoing through the room. The mirror gave you a clear view of your own flushed face, your eyes filled with desire and vulnerability. The way he watched you, his dark eyes smoldering with lust, only fueled the fire burning within you. Every movement caused the robe to sway gently, revealing hints of his luscious curves beneath. As your fingers continued their rhythmic dance upon your clit, you couldn't help but imagine his hands—those strong and skilled hands—taking over. The thought of his touch, his fingers tracing the same patterns you were now creating, made your toes wriggle. Your breath hitched as you quivered as the warm, fuzzy feeling in your lower abdomen became more and more unbearable. His thrusts became more vigorous, matching the intensity building within you. The room was filled with the symphony of your moans mingling with his low grunts. As he maintained his relentless pace, you surrendered yourself completely to what your body was feeling. The tension in your body coiled tighter and tighter until, finally, with one strong thrust, you unraveled into a state of euphoria on his cock. Your body trembled with sheer bliss as he continued to move inside you, he watched as your pretty face contorted and your blush deepened. 

"O-Oh god." You whined loudly, tightening around him, and the throbbing of his girthy cock became even more pronounced. 

His grip on your hips tightened as he thrust into you with renewed vigor, looking for his own release. Each movement sent shockwaves of pleasure through your body, making you moan prettily but uncontrollably. He glared over at you, bringing one hand up to grasp your jaw, his thumb once again finding its way into your mouth.

"N-Not so loud baby. Ain't want no 'un else hearin' ya gone like this, only me." He spoke between each heavy breath, sounding imposing. 

You nodded, unable to say any words. 

His thumb pressed against your tongue, silencing your moans as he continued to pound into you relentlessly. The room was filled with the sound of skin pushing against skin, blending with your muffled cries of pleasure. You felt your ears grow hotter as his grunts turned into gruff whines, it made you wonder how such a man could make such pretty sounds. He pressed into you harder, the suppleness of his hair-filled belly now squished into your lower back. Elvis' grip on you toughens under you, his fingers digging into the skin of your tummy as he pulls you closer, seeking an even deeper connection. His other hand now filled with your drool. Watching as his lip was now curled, you couldn't tear your gaze away from his beautiful expression slipping into that o-face of his through the mirror. With one final thrust, he let out a garish whine, emptying himself inside of your now-tamed pussy, filling you completely with his essence. You couldn't help but muffle a sob and bite down on his thumb as you felt his scorching seed paint your walls. 

He was still so far buried inside you as he let out heavy sighs. Elvis slowly began to withdraw his upper body from you, looking down at the slight space between his belly and your back, shifting his hips slowly to pull out, the base of his cock streaked with your pure blood. He paused as he felt your tongue pushing at his thumb and looked over, your eyes were watery. 

He withdrew his large hand, you turned your head over to him, the position putting a little discomfort on your neck as he was still spooning you. You were in awe of his blushed face and matted, lush hair sticking to his forehead from all his sweat. Bringing the hand you still held between your thighs over to hold the side of his face, your eyes widened as you focused on the redness of your blood on your digits, which had now smudged a bit on his cheek. Elvis took in your expression and glanced over at your small hand against his cheek, he snickered. Grabbing ahold of it, he brought it over to his mouth, giving it a soft kiss and even a subtle lick. Your purity now smudged along his soft lips. 

"A fine 'ittle flower 'as bloomed," he mumbled as he leaned his face into you. 

Your heart raced as his lips pushed against yours gently. The taste of his kiss, a mixture of your blood and his own essence, sent warmth down your spine. He steadily pulled away, enjoying the fact that your lips were stained right along with his. 

It left you brain-scattered and your hind eyes in a fuzzy state.

You were brought back when you felt him pulling his practically flaccid cock out of you. You winced as a dull ache shot through your body. Quickly sensing soreness, but a satisfied, weak smile tugged at the corners of your lips, knowing he'd finally gone completely with you. You stiffened as the warmth of his spew slowly oozed out of your snug, bruised hole. 

Elvis' view was a delight, he thought, watching as the scarlet milky mess glazed your puffed-up pussy lips, running down your inner thigh. Slumbering on your back now, your babydoll still pushed up but remained covering your small chest. 

But before you could turn to fully face him, you panicked as he stood up from the bed abruptly. 

"E-Elvis," you sputtered out, even reaching your hand out for him. 

He ignored your plea as he hurriedly walked towards the bathroom. His footsteps echoed in the silence, and you suddenly felt anxious. Moments later, he emerged with a damp towel in his hand. As he approached you, he saw the look on your face as you laid on your back. 

"Hey, what's wit' da worried eyes baby," he asked gently while gently leaning over at you. 

You still felt the pang of fret in your chest as Elvis leaned over you, his concern evident in his eyes. 

"I-I just got scared. Thought you w-were leaving," you admitted, your voice shaky. 

Elvis' expression softened, and he reached out to brush a strand of hair off your face. 

"Aww, don' worry, sweetheart. Am here now, ain't goin' anywhere," he reassured you, his voice smooth and reassuring in his drawl. 

His touch was comforting, and you felt yourself relax under his calm presence. 

As his hand lingered on your cheek, he spoke again. "Ah's needs ta clean my little girl now, kay." 

You nodded as Elvis stood in front of you while you lay splayed on the bed. He softly lifted your legs and began to gently wipe away the sticky residue, his touch sending shivers down your spine. His sunken eyes met yours briefly, a glimmer of tenderness, before he focused back on cleaning you up. You flinched as he swiped at your tender bud, and he couldn't help but grin. Finishing up, he tossed the used rag aside. Elvis had always been thorough in his caretaking when it came to you. As he gently began tugging your delicate top down to cover you, he paused and scrunched it up, revealing your small, supple chest and your soft pink meek nipples. 

Leaning down to give both of your petite mounds delicate kisses, "Almost forgot 'bout 'em sweet lil' things," he muffled as he kissed your warm skin. 

You found yourself giggling as you ran a hand through his tousled-up hair. One of the things he had made you become—a giggler. 

He stood back up and fixed your babydoll fully now as he smiled at you.

"All done, my little 'un," he whispered softly, his voice filled with pride and adoration. 

Collapsing beside you, his hand tenderly stroked your hair, whispering, "We'll get tha rest uh us cleaned up later." 

He then continued as you moved over to fully face him, his robe now imperfectly tied. "Needa hold ya darlin’, ah know how emotional you puny things can be after experiencin' this kinda thing." 

You snuggled closer to him with a giggle, feeling a sense of warmth and comfort in his embrace. The tubbiness of him being all the more cozy. As you both basked in each other, you felt the palm of his hand smooth down at your lower abdomen. 

"Yuh sore?" His voice held that babyish tone. 

"Bits," you mumbled as your cheek rested against him, feeling the rise and fall of his chest with each breath. 

His hand continued to caress your belly, his touch gentle. “Love her lots,” he suddenly blurted and leaned in to give your forehead a kiss. 

You gazed up at him, leaning in to kiss the fullness between his neck and chin. “Loves daddy lots too,” you whispered as you followed up with another kiss before you snuggled into him again. 

• Master List

₊ ⊹ Taglist: @fallinlovewithurlove @presleyenterprise @doll-elvis @j-v-9-2 @codalysssssworld @caitskywalker14 @claire-elvisgirl @jaqueline19997 @ash-omalley @spooky-hazex @presleysweetheart @littlehoneyposts @dkayfixates @that-hotdog

₊ ⊹ Get added to Taglist for future stories here.

[shalomniscient]

MACHINIST! || grace howard x reader [NSFT][MDNI]

GOT YOUR BODY ON THE BED I CAN SEE THE PRESENTATION / SAID SHE A MACHINIST / BODY UNDER PRESSURE / I BE FIENDING / COMPANY YEAH I KNOW THAT SHE BE NEEDING

cw. reader is an android and has a robot dick (thanks grace), some praise, dumbification, established relationship, robotfucking (?), some breeding talk/breeding kink, switch!grace and switch!reader, handjobs, creampie, vibrators (technically)

notes. had MACHINIST! by Sh!nki on repeat while writing this, please do check out their song it’s genuinely so good !!! also shoutout to @nbdaddykink for enabling this brainrot

“What were all the functions again?”

From between your legs, Grace looks up at you, sunset-red eyes glittering. The artificial cock resting against your thigh is attached to the rest of your body by a connective plate around your groin, the base measurements perfect to the milimeter. Somehow, Grace managed to get your skin tone correct as well, so much so the inter-plate spaces are barely visible. Distantly, you wonder if she used a color picker on you at some point without you knowing—you honestly wouldn’t be surprised.

It’s better that way, anyway. You’d nearly choked the first time she asked to take measurements of your crotch, and you don’t even breathe.

“Since it’s just my first prototype, Mark I, it’s only got a vibration function,” she explains. She trails a finger along the soft length—medical grade silicone, she had assured you—and nods to herself when you grunt in response, fingers curling into the bedsheet. “And the sensory input, obviously.”

“Right,” you huff. She continues to stroke you somewhat absently, more curious than particularly aroused. You, on the other hand, are quite the opposite—your entire body feels warm, too warm, and the small flaps on the vents along your back and shoulders flip up as your system draws in cool air to manage your steadily climbing temperatures. It’s almost embarrassing, the way Grace can get you overheating like some cheap laptop at the slightest of touches, but the she smiles when she looks at you like you’ve given her the answers to the universe and it’s rather difficult to feel anything other than affection in that moment.

“Feels good?” she asks, leaning up to get a closer look at your expressions. Your cock twitches in her hand, slowly hardening, and you give her a strained, wry smile.

“Quite,” you answer, sucking in a sharp breath as her hand pumps up and down. You’re only half listening to her explanation about the dick’s engineering—thin tubes reroute some of your synthetic blood into the cock when it’s stimulated (or whenever you please, really), making it hard, much like an organic dick. The real treat of her little— actually, no, relatively large invention is the fact that it can vibrate, and that you won’t get soft until you consciously make that decision.

“As for cum, I managed to synthesize something kind of close to the real thing,” Grace continues, her thumb swiping over the tip and smearing some of the pre-cum along your length, drawing a strangled groan from your throat. “But I’ll have to take it off to replace it once you’ve used it all up.”

You can only manage a grunt in response, hips twitching at her touch. You buck up into her fist, and Grace’s grin widens. “Are you getting close?” she asks, and you nod rapidly, utterly unable to form words. Pleasure clogs your processors, and your vision fuzzes blue at the edges. Grace’s hand moves faster, and she climbs fully into your lap, plush thighs on either side of your own. She leans in close, her breath mingling with yours before she kisses you so softly, experimentally, and it’s enough to send you over the edge with a hiss.

Artificial cum spills from your cock and onto her hand, a thick, creamy white that almost looks like glue. Grace pulls back and looks at her hand with pure marvel in her eyes, removing her hand from your still-stiff dick to note the way your cum coats her hand. She pinches two fingers together, then spreads them apart, and a thick, viscous string connects them together. The action is enough to make another shudder run through your wired nerves, and you grip her waist and flip her over onto the bed before she can protest or insist on writing down some preliminary observations.

She yelps lightly, but then her lashes flutter as you roll your hips against hers, the wet tip of your cock pressing against her clothed cunt. Your sensors pick up on her elevated heart rate and increased oxytocin levels, and you breathe out a pleased sigh, leaning down to kiss at her neck and down to her shoulders, your teeth scraping against the tattoo on her right.

“How about we move on to phase two of testing, hm?” you rasp. You roll your hips again, and Grace mewls, looping her arms around your neck and leaning back into the pillows.

“Th-that’d be good, yup,” she responds, and you smile against her. You kiss her shoulder again, and the saltiness from the light sheen of sweat on her skin blooms on your tongue. You draw back and make quick work of her pants, shimmying them down her thighs and discarding them on the floor. You can’t help the groan that rumbles in your chest when you note the state of her underwear—entirely soaked and clinging to the lips of her pretty pussy.

You draw a finger along the drenched cloth, and Grace squirms, the muscles in her stomach jumping at the sensation. “So wet, baby,” you murmur, voice low, “all for me?”

Sunset-red eyes meet your again, and Grace’s voice is deliciously breathless when she answers. “All for you, jus’ you.”

“Good girl,” you hum, and a full-body shudder runs through her at the praise. Grace has always been terribly weak for it; not that you mind. There’s little you quite enjoy more than telling your darling machinist how wonderful she is—if anything, you think she needs to hear more of it.

Your fingers find the waistband of her panties and you tug them off, tossing them into the same pile her pants have ended up in on the floor. Gently, you spread her legs a little wider, shifting slightly to position yourself correctly. Your tip catches against her clit and it draws a pleased noise from both of you, and you squeeze her thighs as a reflex, the flesh so plush under your touch.

“‘m gonna put it in now, baby,” you murmur, bracing yourself over her with one hand. Grace’s own clutch at your shoulders and she nods, her eyes blown wide as she looks into yours, and so you have the privilege of watching them roll back into her skull as you slowly sink into her, spreading her open on your cock. The first thing that hits you is how warm she is; the next is the tightness. You nearly whimper at the combined intensity of being wrapped by her perfect pussy, inner walls clenching as you sink another inch and then another into her slowly but surely.

Fuck, you don’t think you’ll ever be able to go back to using a strap after this.

Grace whines loudly once you finally bottom out, your hips meeting hers with a wet smack. Her inner thighs are smeared with her own wetness as it leaks out of her beautifully stuffed cunt, and you grit your teeth to hold yourself back from pile driving her into the mattress. “You okay?” you manage between lungfuls of air, inhaling more to cool your overheating components. Beneath you, Grace nods frantically, her face flushed and nearly as red as her irises.

“You can move,” she gasps as she wriggles her hips, chasing any sort of friction from your stationary cock. “D-don’t forget to try out the vibration function—“

You nip her rambling in the bud by both kissing her and pulling out until the tip, before slamming back inside. Grace moans into your mouth and you devour it greedily, like you needed it to keep operating. You give in to your desire from before and drive her into the mattress with such intensity that Friday could consider retiring early. Your mouth travels hungrily from her lips down to her neck, sucking and biting marks into the pale skin that you know will have Koleda aging another ten years while Ben won’t be able to look neither you nor Grace in the eye.

You nearly rip Grace’s bra off in your haste, fingers fumbling with the zipper. She sighs as her breasts are freed, then moans again when your lips seal around her nipple and sucks. You lave her chest with attention all while you pound into her cunt, the wet sounds of sex echoing all around the room. Her fingers dig into your back, blunt nails creating a delicious pressure that has you bucking just a little harder into her.

“Baby, I’m— I’m gonna—“ she mewls, and you fuck into her faster, utterly rearranging her guts. You’re sure if you look down, you’d see a little bulge forming over where your cock nestles inside her. But you don’t, not this time, because the sight of Grace’s debauched expression is already taking up so much of your processing bandwith. You push up on the bed, nearly folding her in half as your teeth ghost the shell of her ear.

“Gonna what, Grace? Use your words,” you breathe, and she whines, one leg nearly kicking out against you.

“Cum, gonna cum,” she babbles, arching up into your chest, spit-slicked breasts pressing against your chest. You manage a slight chuckle at that, but you aren’t better off either. That blue fuzz creeps along the edges of your vision again, and you know you’re close.

So what better time than to test out the final function?

Activation is impulse related, you remember Grace saying, which basically means all you have to do is think about it for it to activate. And activate it does—Grace screams as the vibrations come to life, buried as you are eight inches deep in her pussy. She bears down on you, hard, nearly pushing you out. You only grunt and put a little more force into your thrusts and Grace sobs fat tears of pure pleasure that you reverently kiss away. You see any higher order thinking skills fade from her eyes as she loses herself in the feeling of you and your cock in her cunt, and she looks so achingly beautiful like this that you can’t resist the urge to kiss her softly, a far cry from the way you’re fucking her almost ruthlessly.

“Good girl,” you pant against her lips. “Good girl, so good for me, my Grace. My genius girl, making me all sorts of toys for me to fuck her with, hm?”Only the whites of her eyes are visible as she slurs out pitiful ‘thank-yous’ at your praise. She gets impossibly tighter, and you know both of you are only seconds away from an orgasm that will have you undoubtedly short-circuiting.

You press a hand to her tummy, over the bulge your cock makes. “‘m gonna cum inside this cute cunt, baby,” you promise, trading your fast pace for slower, deeper strokes, practically assaulting her g-spot with pinpoint accuracy, made only more intense by the vibrations. Your thumb finds her clit and Grace howls, loud enough that anyone in the house would definitely hear. “Jus’ a shame this cum is fake—else I would’ve given you a baby like you want, hm?”

The combination of your words in her ears, thumb on her clit and cock in her cunt send Grace careening off the edge with a sound between a scream and a moan, her entire body locking up with the intensity of it. Squirt sprays out of her clenching pussy and all over your abdomen, and the sight forces you over as well, the blue fuzz swallowing your vision whole. You can barely feel the way your cock pumps the fake cum deep inside her, your hips moving entirely of their own accord as your system reboots from the force of your orgasm.

By the time you come to again, you’re braced over Grace, her legs locked around your hips. Your cock has stopped vibrating on its own, probably due to the fact you practically bluescreebed. Some semblance of thought has returned to Grace’s pretty eyes, and something flutters in your mechanical heart at the satisfied expression on her face. You brush a strand of dark hair out of her eyes, and she wordlessly asks for a kiss. You indulge in her request, lips meeting hers gently. You fit so perfectly against her sometimes you wonder if you were manufactured for her.

“I take it the first round of testing is a success?” you ask, and Grace laughs, her voice somewhat hoarse.

“Definitely.”

(For scientific reasons, you do another two rounds of ‘testing’—after all, repetition is good to ensure the accuracy of the result, right?)

[gay-dorito-dust]

Don’t imagine MK1 men edition;

This came to me as I was listen to asmr last night. Honestly have no clue what this is. 🦦

Don’t imagine Tomas asking you out of the blue about how he smells, having just finished using a new shower jell that had you recently bought, and once you were within range Tomas then pecks your forehead with his soft lips before pulling away with flustered cheeks and a dopey smile as he sheepishly rubs the back of his head.

‘I couldn’t resist.’ He claims. ‘I saw others doing something similar with their spouses, and so I guess I wanted to do it too. Pretty silly huh?’

Don’t imagine Raiden listening intently as you spoke, giving you every ounce of his attention towards the topic of discussion, smiling softly as his unwavering gaze never once faltered from your face; whereas yours would find a hard time staying glued to his beautiful dark ones because of how deeply he looked at you, making you feel not only heard but seen too.

Even as you apologised for talking his ear off, Raiden would counter that your voice was something he could never grow tired of, for it was his favourite sound.

It was such a simple thing but it was enough for you to feel yourself becoming fidgety under his gaze. It didn’t seem to matter how many times Raiden did this because it would always feel like the first time, every time.

Don’t imagine Liu Kang trying to make up for lost time by spending whatever small amount of time he had with you to the fullest before duty inevitably calls for his attention once more.

He’s fully aware that you don’t hold it against him and that you knew what you were getting into upon agreeing to being with him, but he couldn’t help but feel as though he was in some way selfish with you, to which you were quick in disagreeing with by saying he was more selfless then selfish.

However that didn’t stop Liu Kang from helping you with your daily tasks as a way of expressing his gratitude for you, whether that be going down to the market, making the bed, preparing breakfast or something to drink. Liu Kang will do it without a second thought because who knows when he’ll have to leave you again.

So he savours every moment while he can but it doesn’t make the pain of having to separate from you anywhere near bearable.

‘No matter how far apart we may be physically, that does not mean my heart isn’t any less always with you.’

Don’t imagine Kuai Liang holding you tightly to him during the cold nights, his above average body warmth acting as your only form of comfort to combat the cold drafts that would somehow make their way into your room.

He’d thoroughly enjoyed the view of you trying to get as close as possible to leech off of his warmth, he couldn’t get enough with just how perfect you slotted against him and would often times have to pull you back into his embrace when he felt you shift the slightest bit away from him.

Kuai Liang loves keeping you close to his person, it makes him feel as though he’s protecting you with everything that he has, he loves it even more when he gets the chance to wake up before you and chooses to admire your every feature with adoration and love, engraving every inch of your face to memory; even your every imperfection that you claim to posses was engraved into his mind as to Kuai Liang, to love was to love imperfectly.

Not all love was perfect but yours certainly the most perfectly imperfect love there was.

Don’t imagine Bi-Han allowing you to take care of his injuries when he gets back from missions.

Don’t imagine Bi-Han‘s muscles tense up initially upon feeling your hands upon his injured bicep, soft hands working away at the wound in a way that wouldn’t cause him any more pain then he was already in.

Don’t imagine Bi-Han as his his sharp, observant eyes watch your every movement like a hawk, it’s not like he didn’t trust you, he was just trained to be vigilant whenever he put his care within the hands of others. He would even do it with the medics now and then but quickly came to accept that they knew what they were doing.

Don’t imagine Bi-Han slowly coming to terms with just how touch starved he was when he found himself at the mercy of your tender, caring touch, practically giving over all power to you in that situation to do whatever you saw fit. You could’ve hurt him even further for all he knew but instead you treated each of his wounds with a kind of gentleness he had never seen nor received before.

Whatever you do don’t imagine Bi-Han inspecting your work after you were done, giving a satisfied grunt, before he did an uncharacteristic thing by grabbing your hands within his own and kissing the back of them in gratitude.

[magicalink]

The "Experiment"

Albedo is quite obsessed with pussy. In a scientific way of course! And you're the only female close friend he has. So he asks you to let him run an experiment to exhaustively explore it. You accept. And you come to realize that he's interested in it in other ways too...

Taglist: @dainsleif-when-playable @chaotichearts-19 @huachengscrustybandages @scaraskzzs @mizokowashere @xxventiswindblumexx @twistedw0nd3rland

Cw: Albedo x f!reader smut. Use of the words 'sexual harassment' once but it's just part of a conversation, to clarify that this is not Albedo's intention. Pls this is just a very unrealistic fictional situation between two adult friends who are horny with each other but pretend not to be because one of them is not even human and both are socially awkward. Please if a doctor starts touching you like this try to run away and go to a safe place and report it as soon as you can!

A/N: Sorry for the delay, I hope that if you were waiting for this story this post finds you well and you enjoy it.

“Okay Y/N, I’m about to start,” the blond man said, his voice as silky and calming as always.

You gulped, looking up at him. You were lying half-sitting, not to mention half-naked, on his examination table. Your back rested on a soft pillow and your panties on a chair next to the table. Albedo had made you open and flex your legs, exposing your whole vulva for him to explore. He was hovering over you, ready to start his tests.

He noticed you were uncomfortable.

“Are you nervous, Y/N?” He asked with his ever-sweet voice, using that soothing doctor-like tone that he used to try and make you feel more at ease with him.

You shook your head, trying to look convincing.

“I'm just cold…” you replied, at least saying something true. Without your panties, your soft parts were feeling chilly. Even if his lab was well covered from the merciless environment of Dragonspine, it wasn't precisely warm either.

“Oh, don't worry, I won’t be using the cold metal medical tools,” he said casually. And you looked visibly confused.

“What are you using then?” you didn’t even finish your sentence when you saw him tightening up his gloves. But not the latex medical gloves! 

Albedo looked at your horrified expression and spoke before you could complain, aiming a warm smile at you.

“Again, don’t worry Y/N, these aren’t my everyday gloves, but a prototype of gloves specially designed for this kind of procedure.” he explained "They are completely clean, so you don't have to worry about any kind of infections."

“Okay,” you visibly relaxed on his hard, cold table. With that beautiful smile, with those beautiful eyes, you were unable to distrust him. You loved his eyes so much, they were eclipsing, calming. You got lost in them within seconds just like you always did. 

It almost felt unreal how you two were completely alone in the medical section of the lab. Behind closed doors. Just the two of you. You wished you could have an intimate conversation, learn more about him.

But then you remembered you were laying in front of him showing him your pussy and suddenly you couldn’t look at his face anymore, so you averted your gaze. 

You felt as if your cheeks were burning.

“You can start anytime,” you said, pretending to be calm.

He smiled again.

“Wonderful.”

And you gulped again, your heart beating so damn fast. Geez. His voice, his looks, everything about him was so mesmerizing. You felt like you were getting drunk on his presence. 

You made your best effort to not make the situation more awkward. To pretend this was a professional doctor-patient situation. To pretend you were not crazily attracted to him and to not make him feel uncomfortable. You didn’t want him to think that you were a pervert!

You tried to imagine you were somewhere else to avoid feeling aroused.

But it was hard.

You were so focused your heart skipped a beat and you made a little jump when you felt his warm fingers touching your pussy.

Again your cheeks felt like exploding.

“Relax...” he said, caressing one of your legs with his other hand, trying to get you to be less stiff. 

But he did you worse, since his silky touch on your skin sent a pleasurable shiver up your spine. You bit your lip in frustration. It was impossible to contain the wetness that appeared down there.

Albedo looked at your juicy vulva and gently pressed a finger in between the inner labia, preparing to slide it in.

You swallowed heavily and tried to breathe deeply, but it was useless since automatically your knees got pressed together and your pussy became wet and warm.

He tensed his lips when your knees wouldn’t let him see.

“Do you think you can open your legs wide for me?” he asked kindly.

Surprisingly, you were able to refrain from moaning something along the lines of “I could always have my legs open for you, Albedo.” with a stupid face and a sultry tone, and instead muttered a low “Sure” and complied slowly.

You hoped with all your heart that your expression didn't look lewd. You just never thought he would say such words to you.

“Relax Y/N, otherwise it will hurt”, he said with a kind smile and tone.

You nodded. But you begged it to hurt. You begged it didn’t feel good. You begged that no moans escaped your mouth so you contracted all of your body on purpose.

And it seemed like he was trying to torture you. To expose your true feelings.

He caressed the opening of your vulva vertically from up to down repeatedly with his thumb, while his other fingers were delicately massaging your outer labia. His other hand kept one of your legs in place to prevent them from closing. This made you go crazy. You were so horny!

What the heck were those gloves made of?! They felt amazing! Warm, soft, textured!

 You could feel how the area was getting more and more humid, and that seemed to please Albedo.

“See? That's better, the natural lubrication that comes from your body will help so that it doesn’t hurt,” he explained and continued giving you a pleasurable massage, caressing and touching, sinking his fingers a millimeter in just to pull them out again, playing shamelessly with your pussy until it was a dripping mess.

You arched your back in response to the pleasure and covered your ashamed gaze with the inner side of your elbow.

“I'm sorry.” you lamented. How sinful, putting up such a show for just a simple examination. It was impossible that he didn’t realize what was going on.

But he was immutable.

“Don't get embarrassed Y/N, it’s a completely normal reflex. When something gets in contact with the vulva, a woman's vagina starts releasing its lubricants to prepare for the insertion of something,” he explained in a relaxed and professional tone, showcasing all he had recently learned.

You cursed in your mind. 

“Sure, but it doesn’t get this soaked unless she is extremely horny!” you thought. But you just nodded, your eyes still covered. You couldn’t believe you were so desperate for him.

You just let him continue, now it was inevitable to keep your legs open for him, what was hard was containing the sounds of pleasure.

After caressing your whole vulva with his open palm one last time, he slightly separated your labia and approached the fingers of his dominant hand.

“Ready?”

You nodded with your still-covered face, trying not to cry and start apologizing for being such a pervert.

“Okay, I'm getting in.”

And with those very inciting words, he slid his index finger in between your folds, slowly entering your pussy. You gritted your teeth together when you felt him getting in, it was just too good.

He looked satisfied when your pussy accepted his finger, gradually wrapping around it.

“Just like that, veery well…” he dragged his words with a calming, deep, silky voice that made your legs spread wider and your pussy drip wetter. Then he started making a circular motion with his finger inside of you, making you rejoice in pleasure. It was so hard to pretend you didn’t like it so bad.

“Is it okay if I slide it fully in?” he asked.

You exhaled heavily through your nose, trying not to cry. “Why? Why do you have to pick such provocative words, Albedo?” you thought. It almost felt like he was doing it on purpose…

“Does it hurt?” he asked, a bit worried. It was still a bit hard for him to read your expressions. Were you putting up a good act after all?

“No, no, it’s ok. It’s just weird,” you said, again, at least saying something true.

“Ok, do you think you can take another one?” 

You were taking anything from him at this point. You just nodded.

“Ok, here I go…” 

Was it just your impression or was he dragging his words very sexily?!

After repeatedly getting a finger in and out of your pussy until it was stretched and relaxed enough, he inserted both his index and middle finger in, sliding them in slowly until they were both completely in.

Damn. His fingers were so long and slender. But the glove made them so thick. And your arousal made your pussy really tight around them, making you feel completely filled by them. He was stretching you with expert movements, causing too much pleasure to let it go to waste. You had to bite your tongue to avoid sticking it out.

“I’m sorry, Albedo,” you thought, surrendering to the satisfaction of his hot agile hands. “It’s impossible not to enjoy this.”

You sat back and relaxed, allowing your blush to break free and go up your body, painting it a soft pink.

You finally let out a sigh, tired of battling. The only part you kept hard was your face, furrowed in a wince to cover your sinful delight.

“Does it hurt, Y/N?” was he really fooled by your expression? Such a smart man?

“Yes…” you struggled to pronounce. How shameful, lying to Mr. Albedo like that. To such a proper man…

“How about this?” …or was he??

You witnessed in disbelief how he used his thumb to gently rub on your clit while he kept scratching your g-zone with his index and middle finger.

“Ah…” a soft moan finally escaped your lips. You locked eyes with him, accusingly. He gave you an apologetic smile.

That made you snap. All of this time feeling ashamed and blaming yourself for feeling so aroused! But now it was clear to you that none of the things he did were innocent.

Both of your masks fell off. Such hypocrites. None of you were being professional. Both of you were lying, and in a very cowardly way, to avoid making the final move to admit their feelings to one another. But to taste the waters in this way? The epitome of unprofessional! The whole medical thing was just a façade! Shameless. Completely shameless. You didn’t expect something like this from him.

All of this "experiment" request was probably just an elaborate plan for him to see if you would bang him.

You were mad. But you had been thirsty for him for such a long time…and you never thought he would reciprocate. You were happy. No, you were more than happy, you were ecstatic. You wanted to jump to him from the table like a tiger to devour him.

But he was so shameless! He didn’t deserve it. Teasing you in such a way while pretending to feel nothing! Unacceptable.

You wanted him to go further, to expose himself, to reach a point in which there was no doubt that those were his intentions from the beginning. He deserved it. He had been such a bad boy. So if he really wanted you, he would have to earn it.

"Mr. Albedo, why are you touching my clitoris?" You asked with feigned innocence, hoping to make him feel guilty. "Is it part of the experiment?"

You watched in delight as his Adam's apple bobbed in his throat under his star-shaped birthmark as he gulped down nervously. But he managed to keep the rest of his calm façade.

"Yes, Y/N, don't worry. It's needed to make sure the experiment goes well." He said, projecting that aura of being completely sure of himself that he always had. But your very sensitive pussy could feel his previously relaxed fingers tense up inside of you. Shameless. If this dude wanted to bang you, he’d have to beg for it.

"Ok, I see." You smiled politely, doing your best acting ever, as you sat back and made yourself comfortable on the examination table. 

"Yes, let's continue…" he said with his deep and silky voice, sure he was back in control of the situation. He had no idea how wrong he was.

"By the way, Mr. Albedo," you said with an ample smirk. He looked down at you with a curious smile. Your whole demeanor had changed. You looked completely at home on his examination table, arms crossed behind your now laid back head, legs spread open around his arm whose digits were lost inside your warm depths "You never told me what this whole experiment was about." You said nonchalantly.

It was true. He had never told you the details. He had just pleaded you to help him and had earnestly told you that you were the only woman in the world he could ask such a favor from. And of course, that tactic worked, you had accepted with very little reluctance. Because you wanted to help him, of course, but also because of how big of a declaration of trust and intimacy that request was.

Even if he had pretended it was something professional. Even in those fake circumstances, you felt proud. To be the only woman close enough to Master Albedo, an artificial human who was often aloof to most people, seemingly uninterested in forming relationships with others. Your heart had raced at the thought that despite having Sucrose by his side for such a long time, the recent bond he had formed with you had made you the only suitable candidate for such a delicate matter. Because it meant that even if he didn’t reciprocate your lust and desire, he still felt quite close to you and trusted you.

And now here you were, unmasking Master Albedo’s true sneaky intentions. A wide, toothy smirk was splayed across your now confident face, satisfied that you caught him red-handed. Oh Archons, this man was reckless. He was simply unhinged. He loved to play with the limits of human relationships, tasting the waters as if it was an experiment, throwing savage jokes at people with the most subtle words and straight innocent faces. Despite not being human, he knew exactly how to treat them, how to play them. And that made you want to fuck him even more. He was so hot, so funny, so fucking alluring. And seeing his eternal confidence falter for the first time in your life was hilarious. You wanted to see the seemingly know-it-all, I-dont-have-human-desires chalkboy drool with a fucked-out face after being done with him.

“Ahem, well, Y/N, this experiment…” Albedo gulped, hesitating for a single moment before reading your expression, realizing how hungrily and shamelessly you ogled the golden, star-shaped mark on his throat, how wide and satisfied your grin was, how bright your eyes glinted with lust for him. And his smile came back to him, stretching his lips in a grin that reflected relief and also sweetness. 

“The experiment was a success,” he said, looking down at you with a fond expression. You couldn’t help but giggle at his antics.

“Oh really? Why so? What were you testing, Master Albedo~?” You kept on punishing him with your teasing. You weren't letting it slide, he didn’t deserve it. If he really wanted you, he would have to admit his sin, and his feelings for you.

You watched, delighted, how his Adam’s apple bobbed yet again under his golden star with a lewd sound. You could swear his pants had already tightened. He had told you numerous times you had no need to address him so formally. Yet you were always “Mr. Albedo this, Mr. Albedo that”, and despite him desperately wanting you to address him informally for some confirmation of closeness, that did things to him. 

And now you called him “Master Albedo” to punish him? Archons, that did make him feel things previously unknown to him. He had never felt anything like that before, much less for such a silly nickname. Sucrose called him like that all the time, and he had never felt anything weird about it. Yet here you were, making him feel things. Crazy things. He already knew you were special to him because you made him feel things he had never felt for a human, or for anyone, before. And this only fueled his wild desire for you further.

And now it was clear.

“The purpose of the experiment was to confirm or deny if you bore any kind of sentiment towards me,” he said with a kind smile, looking down at you with his ever-calm and soothing eyes. “And given the results, I think I can confidently say that you share the feelings of fondness and desire I bear towards you.” He finished in a conciliatory way, begging for forgiveness with that sheepish smiley face.

“You know that in the human sphere, this could be considered deception, abuse of power and sexual harassment, don’t you?” You asked with an expressionless face, taking a disinterested look at your nails. Albedo’s already light skin suddenly went completely pale, his cyan eyes opening wide as saucers in a terrified glare.

“Wait, r-really?” you heard him stutter for the first time in your life. The hand he had inside your pussy felt like it had turned to stone and he used the other one to grab a big notebook from the bookshelf, one full of papers and loose notes, that he skimmed frantically, trying to decipher where he went wrong.

“Yeah. I hope it’s not necessary for me to write a report to the Knights of Favo…” you continued with your cold act. But Albedo couldn’t care less.

“Did I hurt you?” He asked, his ice-blue eyes filled with worry. He kept his fingers inside of you, scared that, as he had studied, pulling them out suddenly would hurt you. “Did I offend you?” 

You dropped the act and gave him a satisfied smirk because he passed the test, he had the reaction you had hoped for.

“I’m gonna forgive you just this time, because you’re not a human and you didn’t know what you were doing,” You said with a smug grin, observing him up and down, checking him out, still lying back with your arms comfortably crossed behind your head.

You could see Albedo quietly sigh in relief. He, who didn’t need to breathe. His body visibly relaxed and his skin recovered its natural color. He was about to make some snarky comment to try and get the upper hand again when you shushed him:

“But from now on I expect you to get your research on humanity right, chalkboy,” You said teasingly with a toothy grin.

And you heard him gulp. That golden star in his throat bobbed deliciously again, making you want to just jump at him and bite it already. But you were making him beg. And you felt triumphant upon seeing his reaction.

Chalkboy. His lips curled in a smirk. He felt giddy inside. You swore you could see his gray trousers getting tighter again. He took a step closer to you, who still laid arms crossed and legs open in his examination table, smiling wide at him.

Chalkboy. Did you really just call him chalkboy?

A year of battling for you to stop calling him Mister and now you were finally engaging in playful banter with him, and even called him a nickname? A mocking nickname on top of that??

To him that was the pinnacle of human interaction. He had been experiencing human-like sexual phenomena due to you for a while, but now you just gave him the stiffest boner of his life. He had been experiencing desires lately, but just now you made him straight up wanna fuck like he was made of flesh and blood and had the same animal nature that built your cells. He wanted to mix his cells with yours, in the filthiest way possible.

Chalkboy. He loved it. His experiment was a success, now he knew that no matter how you called him, whether it was with honorifics or informally, it made him feel good in different ways. But if you called him chalkboy…

“My dear Y/N, I promise you that from now on I’ll be much more careful in my research with human relationships,” he smiled sweetly and flirtatiously, hovering over you on the examination table, his free hand caressing your cheek “I want to kindly ask you: if you do indeed reciprocate my fascination towards you, do you want to be my partner in this journey to study the complexity of human relationships? I promise this time there will be no more secrets between you and me, and I want you to be the one to guide me,” he asked with a sweet gaze, his eyes hypnotizing you more than ever. You had never seen them filled with such fondness, with such affection, and most importantly, you had never seen them glazed with…lust.

That apology, that display of affection, and that confession of desire were enough to your hungry heart, so you smiled back at him, your heart racing excitedly. You giggled and held onto his hand that was on your cheek with both your hands in an equally affectionate way.

“My dear Albedo, I’d be delighted,” you said with a sweet smile that turned naughty when you pulled him closer. “I’m no expert though, I still have so much to learn too, and I’d love to do it with you.”

Both of you giggled when reading a second meaning in your words. You felt your pussy throb when you saw Albedo’s face contort in a teasing, seductive expression, and then you remembered his fingers lost in your depths.

“You don’t know how happy I am, Y/N…” he whispered, slowly starting to move his fingers again inside your folds that instantly reacted to his caresses. They started to renew the lubrication around his fingers, and a little mewl of pleasure escaped your lips. Albedo placed a finger from his other hand on them, as if studying your mouth and your reaction, lust and curiosity battling inside of him to take control. Before he could lean down to kiss you, you interrupted.

“What’s up with these gloves, Albedo?” you protested, tugging at the glove on his hand that was on your face. They were in the way, you wanted to be with him skin to skin “Did you make them with the sole purpose of sticking them in my privates or what?” You chuckled.

“Yes,” he smiled. The excitement he felt each time you called his name without honorifics was still hard to contain for him “I built them to ensure maximum pleasure.” He said, recovering a bit of composure.

You looked at him skeptically. You had asked that as a joke, you weren't expecting something like that. You were impressed. Human men would invite you to dinner (at most) if they wanted to fuck. But this chalk boy went all the way to build a sex toy, something you didn’t know if it even existed in Teyvat to begin with, for you. You let that sink in, observing him with your mouth agape.

Hm, first Venti and now him. This thing of fucking supernatural beings was going to become a custom, you could feel it in your blood…or rather, in your clit…

And it was the most exciting thing that you had ever felt in your unnaturally long life. After centuries of numbness and dullness, this was the kind of thrill that made you feel truly alive for the first time ever, something that you only experienced since you woke up in Teyvat less than a year ago. So you held onto those feelings and sensations for dear life.

“It does feel pleasurable,” you smiled up at him. The gloves made his slender fingers double the thick, absorbed the heat of your body to make them extra warm, and even had the texture of round tacks over its surface, letting him scratch every single pleasure point inside your folds with ease.

“I’m glad they work as intended. I really wanna put them to the test right now…” he said and you knew he meant business. The way he started fingering you stole your breath away and now you were moaning as your legs threatened to close again from the sensitivity.

“W-were you investigating how to finger a woman too??” You giggled teasingly in between moans, his deft fingers working wonders at turning your pussy into a drenched mess.

“Of course. I wanted to ensure that I would be able to take you to the point of orgasm,” Albedo nodded, his words still too methodical for your amusement.

“And where did you study that? Did you ask Kaeya for tips?” you stifled your giggle with your hand.

Albedo laughed as well, enjoying this moment of intimacy and bonding with you.

“Of course not. I’ve just been studying the anatomy of the vulva and the vagina, and taking into account the numerous…” you interrupted him.

“Come here,” you said softly, your eyes softening as well. You motioned him to pull his fingers out and to lean further down, pulling him close on top of you. You looked him in the eye, you looked at his lips, at his star birthmark, then at his eyes again.

You both locked eyes, lids slowly dropping and pupils gradually dilating. Albedo liked this. The beginning of intimacy. Studying it was fascinating. Experiencing it was enrapturing.

“No more books for a little while, ok?” You whispered, running your fingers through his gorgeous blond hair that you had always dreamed of touching. It felt like silk. Golden strands of silk sliding between your fingers “Just for a while. Just two people who like each other and want to be close…” you proposed, blushing profusely at the implication of your words “C-can we?”

“Y/N, I…” his golden eyebrows rose over his icy eyes, mouth agape as a little breath escaped his delicate lips again, even if he didn’t need it. He hesitated. Many thoughts coursed through his mind, his expression looking somewhat guilty.

“Please,” you implored with your eyes pulling his hand away from the quill and the notes “You can write down your notes after we finish, ok?”

“But what if I forget…?” Albedo sighed with a longing expression.

“Nothing worth remembering will happen if you don’t come close and focus on me. On us,” You said blushing, looking at his lips to avoid his gaze, embarrassed “This experiment is very different from the ones you normally do. Trust me, ok? I’m no expert, I’m new to this too but the only thing I’m sure about is that you just gotta relax and flow with the moment…I learned that the hard way,” you whispered, getting your fingers lost in his golden hair.

“Y/N…” He mumbled, looking down at you as his lids slowly covered his blue irises.

You tensed. How to convince this chalkboy? You started to babble with a pleading tone:

“Please. It’s different. Because even if you’re still the scientist who wants to analyze the data, this time you’re part of the phenomena you want to study. And this is not an exact science, if you don’t focus and let loose that phenomenon is not going to happ…” Finally, his lips clashed against yours, ending your insistent speech. Finally, you convinced him.

“Y/N…” he mumbled again, his intense eyes piercing yours with a longing gaze “I wanna make something unforgettable happen now. Not just something worth studying, something worth remembering. For both of us.” He admitted. You saw him blush for the first time, unsure if he had done the right thing by kissing you like that.

“That was a great first step…” you smiled sweetly, calming his nerves, and pulling him closer.

It felt weird when he held you while his hands were still covered in those textured gloves, but the kiss you exchanged was so good nothing else mattered at that moment. His lips felt so nice. Solid, cold, rough, but in a nice way. You pulled him even closer until he was straddling you on the examination table, making it creak. 

You made out while you caressed his hair and scalp, he smelled and tasted so good. Like vanilla, sweet flowers, and…somehow, icy. His body felt so unnaturally cold to the touch that you felt the need to give him a bear hug to warm him up. 

Meanwhile, Albedo felt in heaven. So in heaven, he let go of the quill and notes. More than anything, he was a curious soul and loved having new experiences. And this was his first kiss ever. So he also allowed himself to explore something new without monitoring it meticulously for the first time ever. It was like a whole new world of exciting things had been opened in front of his eyes, along with a new challenge: learning everything about it without endless analysis and report sheets. Just two people, exploring their bodies and letting themselves burn in the tension and the feelings that had been building up for months.

“Umf…” Albedo kept discovering things about himself, and he loved that. First, he discovered he was an avid kisser. He kissed you exploring every nook and crevice of your mouth, enjoying the new world of smells, flavors, and textures that was your body. He kissed you with no limitation because unlike you he didn’t need to make pauses to breathe.

“Sorry,” he chuckled with a sweet smile, releasing you as you started to gasp for air. “I think I’m finally getting carried away…” a smug smirk played on his pale, delicate lips.

“Great…” you smiled back, truly glad, as you normalized your breath before placing your hands on his shoulders.

He was so lost in the kisses that it took him a bit to realize that you were tugging at his clothes. Right, this experiment had more steps. He wanted to experience more! 

“Want me to disrobe…?” He asked with a kind yet teasing expression.

“Please…” you nodded, blushing when you realized just how needy you sounded, getting bright red when he chuckled in response. All that horniness you had been trying to suppress for so long finally had the chance to escape.

Between giggles, Albedo balanced himself on his knees while you tried to help him undress. You were of very little help in undoing the intricate belts and buttons of his eccentric attire (which you wondered if never got uncomfortable for him to wear), but he appreciated your intention nonetheless. 

You felt a little flame rise in your lower belly when he discarded his giant coat and you saw him in a plain blue shirt, undone buttons exposing that star on his neck that you wanted to devour so much. You took your hands to the shirt and this time you were quick to undo all of its buttons, revealing his lean and slightly toned midriff. 

Fuck he was hot. His alabaster-like skin had a subtle ethereal glow, just like his hair. He looked like some kind of angel. One with a very horny look on his face. Your heart raced, you had never seen him like that. You had seen his eyes with a teasing expression countless times before, but never lit up with desire. You couldn’t believe you were the one he desired. You didn’t understand how or why, but there was no point in questioning it right now, you just had to take this opportunity, he wanted you as much as you wanted him. Maybe even more…

You caressed his shoulders when you pulled his shirt down, leaving it hanging from his elbows because you thought he looked even sexier that way. His skin was smooth, soft, and his flesh was firm. 

You pulled him down on top of you and you entangled in a passionate kiss again, your hands pawing at each other’s hair and backs.

You had to make little pauses to breathe, making his desire grow uncontrollably for more and more. He liked experiencing for once a feeling so strong that he had to make an effort and restrain himself so he could give you time to get your much-needed oxygen. 

In one of your pauses, you finally acted on your primal desires and placed a hand on the back of his neck to press him down onto you and bit his star-shaped birthmark. He let out a joyous moan he didn’t know he was capable of producing as you licked and nibbled at his golden star, his Adam's apple protruding under his delicious neck. Damn, just damn, you turned him on in a way he had never felt before. He didn’t need oxygen. He needed you.

“Ah…” you moaned too when you felt him hump your bare pussy, arousing you further. You looked down and saw his slacks bulging needily. You blushed when you realized you had stained his fly with your juices.

Albedo had no option but to let go of you even if for a brief moment to release himself from those pesky pants that were getting in the way of that desperately needed connection with you. He looked down at himself for a moment to admire, amazed, the way his pants formed a tent like never before. This, too, was a new experience for him. He had been having these physical reactions for a while, when his desire got awakened by you. But he had never been this stiff, this throbbing. This desperate. Like he was finally part of the animal kingdom. He liked it. He enjoyed it. 

He quickly undid his metallic belt with a swift movement, making a lewd sound that made you arch your back, and just the sight of your pussy bucking up and pleading for him made him open his eyes hungrily and he throbbed again. He needed you right now, so he didn't even bother to take off his pants. He just unbuttoned them and pulled them down enough to take his aching cock out.

He looked at it for a brief second, still taking in the sensation of seeing and feeling himself like that for the first time. He had never been so erect, so worked up. His cock was so sensitive that every pump of his artificial blood felt nice each time it made it throb, swaying slightly as it poked out of his underwear.

You were mesmerized, almost drooling as you saw such a delicious sight. That cock was so perfect, so immaculately white under its golden frame, pale pink hues etched delicately onto the pulsing veins on its upper side and onto the desperate tip. He was bigger than you expected. Not too big in length, but in girth. He was so thick it made your pussy throb in anticipation. 

It was such a piece of eye candy that you made a futile attempt to get up from your laid position to try and grab him to, put him in your mouth. But Albedo didn’t even realize, and he didn’t give you time to do it. He was so enraptured by this animal awakening that he pushed you back down onto the table without even thinking. His hand was wrapped around the base of this organ that captured your attention so much, holding it firmly just to push it directly into your needy core. 

And that’s exactly what he did. He didn’t waste time. He used his hand to guide it like he knew what he was doing and you felt its pale tip rub against your clit before it slid effortlessly into your drenched depths.

“Ah…~” a needy moan escaped your lips as you finally got the desires you had been suppressing for months fulfilled in an abrupt thrust that stretched you out just the way you liked. 

As he released the base of his cock, he gave you an analyzing look to check if your whimpers meant that he was hurting you or making you feel good. And the dilated look on your pupils, drunk on pleasure over your flushed cheeks, was enough to make a wildfire ignite in his chest, ready to fuel that movement he had been studying tirelessly but which motivation he had never comprehended before this very moment.

His hands and knees rested at both sides of your body on the examination table as he loomed over you, his spine curved to position his face oh so close to yours. Out of your daze, you opened your eyes only to find his, burning despite their icy color like never before. You felt a rush of emotion, a blush that crept from your stomach up to your cheeks. You wrapped your legs around his narrow hips and your arms around his neck, caressing the hair on the back of his head, pulling him closer, making him yelp. But he quickly adjusted, a sweet giggle erupting from his defined lips. You exchanged amused and complicit smiles at this newfound connection. Neither of you could believe this was finally happening. It was like an impossible dream. And as if afraid that it could end at any moment, you wasted no time.

One of his hands propped him up, the other one found its place on your temple to hold it firmly and rub circles on your skin with his thumb. You tilted your hips, pulling him close into you with both your limbs and your hungry insides. He moaned again, feeling you suck him deeper and deeper. Deep until he hit the very bottom. And just When he thought there wouldn’t be anything else capable of turning him into an animal, he hit your cervix with his tip. And that’s when he lost himself.

“Archons…” he trembled as he knew this was the first time he was letting loose for real and losing control. He pulled all the way out just to thrust back in in a sharp motion that made you moan, only fueling his lust further. And then the studied, previously foreign motion felt natural, like a need he didn’t know he had. Back and forth, in and out, until the edge of the examination table rattled against the wall relentlessly.

As his thumb rubbed shakily onto your cheek, you pulled him impossibly closer, your bare legs wrapping tighter around his slim waist. It felt so damn good. The gloves had been amazing, but Albedo didn’t fall behind. His cock was so goddamn thick it filled you up in a way that made you wetter and wetter, slick dripping down your entrance and making a mess each time he pushed in and out. It rubbed so well every crevice, scratching those spots that tingled so tasty…

It was perfect, amazing, wild. Forehead against forehead, your sweat tainting his cold skin, the lab was filled with sounds so lewd they took your lust up a notch. The creaking of the examination table, suffering under both your weights, its slamming against the wall until the paint was dented, and the squelch…the squelch your drenched pussy made each time his cock pushed back inside was maddening.

His cock was cold like the rest of his body, further stimulating you until you lost all shame and started moaning as you observed his handsome face. Your heat warmed his body, and your sweat made his soft skin shimmer. Crazed out of pleasure, you bit his star again, a strangled moan erupting from his throat as your hands got lost in his blond hair, messing up his usually neat braid.

“Bedo…” you moaned, and that was his sweet demise.

It was too much. This wild experience, this sweet pleasure, and the fulfilling intimacy of you calling him a nickname in that lust-filled voice.

“Haah…” he couldn’t keep it in. The control slipped out of his hands for real for the first time in his life and it felt amazing. The orgasm hit him like a fucking truck, making him see white and making his always crowded mind go completely blank.

“Y-Y/N…” he moaned desperately, his already deep voice sounding breathier and huskier than ever before. Realizing what was happening, you held him even tighter as he rode his high for as long as he could.

As thick ropes of not exactly cold but unnaturally lacking in warmth cum spurted deep into your body, Albedo felt his mind heavy and hazy. He let out a guttural groan that made you horny as fuck, and kept pumping his semen inside of you, yet another new side of himself awakening this fateful afternoon. He felt as if he was an animal too, as if he was possessed by some kind of organic need to reproduce.

If he could, he would be sweating more than you, his brow furrowed in effort, pumping in desperately until his cock wasn’t hard enough to do it anymore. With another groan, this time of frustration, he collapsed on top of you.

“Ngh…” he sighed, and the examination table creaked and hit the wall one last time as his movements finally died down, his whole weight rested on you.

“There, there…” you said softly, still blushing a bit, but recovering your thinking and speaking capabilities now that he wasn’t pleasing you. You rubbed his back gently with your hand, hugging him.

Albedo took some moments to savor this delightful moment: the triumph of finally achieving the physical and emotional intimacy he had wanted with you for so long, the success in transcending the theory of this ritual he had studied tirelessly to finally experiencing it for himself, the post-orgasmic bliss, the memories he would never forget…

“I’m sorry…” he whispered after a while, his voice still husky and sexy to your lustful ears.

“S-sorry?” you raised your brows in perplexity “Why are you sorry for? I already told you that I forgive you…” you mumbled.

“Not for that,” he chuckled, finally recovering to slowly lift himself back up onto his hands to straddle you again “For releasing before you…” he said with that irresistible breathy voice, finally managing to steady himself onto the table. You found his relaxed expression and disheveled appearance beyond hot.

“Ah, don’t worry, that happens,” you said, blushing, despite the fact that that very rarely happened to you with Venti.

You saw him pull out of you with a very careful motion, your still needy pussy throbbing in frustration. You wondered what the hell was going through his mind as he placed his hand on it and separated your labia a bit to observe his semen pour down onto the table. You had never seen that look in his eyes before. You had never seen him bite his lip either. That made you blush even more.

“No, Y/N, you don’t worry. I’m not letting you go unfulfilled,” he replied with an enigmatic tone, engrossed in observing the white substance gushing out of your body.

A million questions ran through his mind. Regarding the full extent of his nature and existence. Regarding the possibility of his seed yielding any kind of fertility. His ever-curious nature came back to him recharged, now fueled by this previously unknown desire to breed.

“Oh…really?” was all you managed to mumble, looking up at him with red cheeks and again wondering what the hell was going on in that freaky mind of his. Up to this very day, you had always thought of Mr. Albedo as a very proper man. But now you were starting to realize that he was a weirdo.

“Most certainly,” he smiled with satisfaction as he tightened both textured gloves and pushed two fingers back into your needy core.

“Hyah!” you moaned, gripping the sides of the examination table. It didn’t matter if he was a weirdo, he was a weirdo who made you feel good.

“Does my invention have your approval, Y/N?” he asked, looking down at you with icy blue eyes full of hopefulness.

As he explored all of the pleasure points he had carefully studied in the few books that he had managed to find, all you could do was nod in between moans and give him a weak thumbs up.

You inhaled to tell him something, but he interrupted you again:

“I’m so glad. I wanted to ensure maximum pleasure. Please let me show you the full extent of the potential of this device!” he smiled, clearly excited to show off his creation and gain your validation. And then came your sweet demise.

Because with the push of a button, the textured gloves started to vibrate. To fucking vibrate.

Ah, Archon-forsaken Albedo…he could be as much of a freak as he wanted! This was too much, too much…did this even exist in Teyvat? Had he just built a gadget that he could patent and get rich?

You didn’t know. All you knew was that now you were the one throwing your head back and moaning in pleasure, louder than ever before. So loud that you were lucky you were alone at the lab today.

“Is it good?” Albedo smiled down at you, his artificial heart beating excitedly in his chest.

Your moans were ragged, not pleasant or erotic to the ears at all. They sounded more like an agonizing animal. But they showed just how much of a good time you were having. And that made Albedo giggle in pure satisfaction.

He kept fingering you, and pressed the vibrating part against the head of your clit until your hips snapped and you let out a loud and labored moan. And then the disaster.

The vibrations that were applied to the head of your clit traveled through your nerves until they reached your brain, turning it into pudding. Your mind went blank, and your body reacted in a way previously unknown to you.

“Mesmerizing…” Albedo mumbled in utter fascination as you came undone, panting and moaning, and let out a generous squirt of warm whitish liquid that stained everything, tainting the air with yet another pungent aroma.

“Al…bedo…” you moaned weakly, trying to apologize as your brain was trying to recover its solid state.

“Don’t worry, it’s perfect,” He said softly, with a calm smile. With lidded eyes glinting with wishes untold, he observed the mess splattered all over his clothes and the examination table. His usual self wanted to collect all kinds of samples and his newfound animalistic side wanted to lick it clean.

“P-perfect?” You asked weakly, slowly closing your shaky legs to lay on your side and try to normalize your breath after that mind-blowing orgasm.

“Yes, Y/N, it was perfect. You are perfect.” He smiled, looking at you as if he was in a trance and scooting closer “You are so special. So very special…” he added with his silky voice, cupping your chin with a gentle hand to make you look at him.

You looked into his eyes. They were icy blue and pretty as ever. But there was something different in them you hadn’t seen before. At that moment, you had no idea what it was about.

Albedo was a very good host for the end of the evening. He helped you clean yourself and didn’t complain about the mess you had made in his lab. He cooked for you and you had a pleasant conversation over dinner, huddled up and protected from the cruel cold of the outside. You felt your friendship with him grow. When it was late and dark and obviously time to go, he told you to stay the night and to leave in the morning when it was less dangerous. “Crossing Dragonspine during the night is unwise and imprudent!” He had said.

And he was so hospitable so as to let you into his private room to sleep in his bed. So that was what you did. You slept by his side, snuggled into warm blankets that made the snowstorm outside seem like a distant dream.

Contrary to your expectations, there was no sex that night. You slept peacefully while Albedo was in the lab, and when he seemed to finish his experiments and came back to the room to sit on the bed, next to you, he continued to take notes on uncountable papers.

From time to time, he turned his head to see you and check if you were asleep and to squeeze your hand affectionately or pat your back in a soothing manner.

But you didn’t have any more sex. That night.

The next morning you left in peace, and you didn’t have sex with him again until months later, when you returned from Liyue.

In the letters you exchanged, the growing friendship and trust was clear and so were the intentions of repeating the experience. But both of you were ignorant of something very important about the other. Albedo was too subtle with his hints and you didn’t pick them up.

So the first time you returned to Mondstadt after your endeavors in Liyue, he took the chance and invited you for dinner.

That night, he told you about his desire to procreate with you, and you, flabbergasted, literally said ‘no, thank you’. He was surprised, and asked you why you had sex with him months ago if the idea of reproducing was so unpleasant to you. And you, shocked, had to admit that you just assumed he was sterile. Because he was...right?

Albedo had cleared his throat uncomfortably and had told you that he was not sure about this, that he desperately wanted to know if there was a possibility that he could have his own children. It was obvious to you that it was a sensitive topic for him. So it was hard to find the words and the tone to reject his proposal and keep your friendship intact.

How did you make it? How did you tell him that you had no intentions of having children, that your priority was to find your brother, that he shouldn’t feel down, that he would he a wonderful father even if he wasn’t a biological one, that now you were always taking a contraceptive herb given to you by some wise ladies in Liyue and that you two could have sex as long as you took that herb just in case he ended up being fertile?

Well, that’s a topic for another story.

This one ends here. But you never knew if Albedo was simply sterile or if that intense day at the lab you didn’t get pregnant because of pure luck.

Oof! I can't believe I finally posted this weird thing. I'm not sure I like how this one turned out, it has many incongruences because it was started in...2021!!! Can you believe that?? 💀💀 I'm literally not the same person I was when I fisrt started this drabble. I had to fix and rewrite the beginning because this was one of my first attempts at writing in english, I had no idea about english punctuation during dialogues and many other important things. I had to add quotation marks and commas to every single old dialogue 💀 Also upon re reading it I realized just how creepy the situation was originally so I rewrote it a bit to try and fix it? I dunno if I fixed it. Guess I witnessed things irl that made me open my eyes about certain things so I cut out parts that grossed me out and re wrote them. I know I wouldn't write something like that nowadays, it's impressive to see the changes on my writing and my thinking over time, specially over such a short period of time like 2021-2024, I usually focus on the changes from the things I used to write when I was in highschool. It would have been interesting if I had completed this fic back then and compare it to a new fic, but I didn't so I got this weird Frankenstein hybrid instead.

Not only you can see the messy seams in this piece because of the changes on my views but you can also notice the incongruence in Y/N's behavior 💀 This story happens before Y/N travels to Liyue from the first time, so she was still a shy and inexperienced woman, she just had her first love, first kiss, first everything with Venti and that is clear in the beginning, where I left the dialogues and inner thoughts I wrote back in 2021, while towards the middle and the sex scene she suddenly jumps to being the Y/N of the current version, who has seen lots of stuff in Teyvat and had tons of things to show to Albedo. Oops...💀 I tried to fix it so that she wouldn't be as forward as she would be now, but I really wanted to finish this fic and I found it really boring to write shy, inexperienced, insecure, passive Y/N, so in the name of having fun at writing I ended up with a thing in between. But honestly that part where she manipulates him and plays him like a fiddle is 100% post Fontaine Y/N and completely out of cronology. Tried to tone her down during sex to reflect her little experience, dunno if succeeded.

I don't entirely dislike this piece because I think it illustrates well the relationship I envisioned for Y/N and Albedo and I think their cringe and socially inept dialogues are on point to that. Albedo struggles with being overly formal without trying because that's just the way he talks, and shy, people pleasing Y/N used to mimic that, even if Albedo desperately wants her to drop the formalities with him and doesn't know how to ask for it properly. Yeah towards the sex scene that falters and current Y/N shows but oh well. Guess this is what happens when you leave a fic unfinished for 3 whole years. I wanted to take this off my drafts desperately. I want to finish those old projects I wanted out so I can make space for the new ideas I have! Lately I've been really in the mood for starting a new fic. And hopefully finish it within a year before I completely lose touch with the feelings and views that inspired it.

I started writing erotica ten years ago when I was 14 💀 And at first everything was so wholesome until I got unsupervised internet access and porn ruined my mind. I started this blog to slowly reconnect and reconcile with sex and sexuality and upon re reading the first fics I posted (*cough cough* the Scara ones specially*) I think that's working. And what happened over the years with this fic is a perfect example of that. Can't wait to see if I improved when I start a brand new one.

This fic was supposed to be finished and posted in March 💀 And we are ENDING JUNE 💀💀💀 My sincere apologies if anyone thought I was dead or dropped the fandom, the truth is that I still write a lot whenever I can, but because of university I have no time for organizing, editing and posting. At the beginning of the year, when I said I would post a fic per month, I was totally underestimating how hard sophomore year can be 💀 It was also super hard for me to finish fics about characters who are not Scara/Kuni/Wanderer 😳 I'll have some free time in a few weeks, so hopefully I'll gather the strength to polish and post all the raw content that's sitting dormant in my drafts.

I missed Tumblr and my blog so much 🥺 I wish I had more time for this. I have tons 9f unread notifications and no time to read them all. I don't even have time to read fanfics nor the books I bought for pleasure, because I need to finish reading for university 🥺

I dunno what or when (hopefully as soon as possible) next post or posts will be, so expect the unexpected 😅 Or make your requests, I'm working on two at the moment (that person who asked for Ei catching step-siblings Kuni and Y/N, if you happen to be reading this, I'm halfway through it, I swear!)

Anyway, I just hope all the people who voted for this fanfic like it if even a bit, despite it being a bit of a Frankenstein. It has some parts that I like a lot. See you next time!

[reveluving]

But just, imagine Graves is suuuuuch a hard ass to you in front of his men and a total ass (almost more than he is to his other men) so it doesn’t seem like he’s giving you favoritism and doesn’t make it obvious that you two are doin’ the dirty dooooo. But behind closed doors Graves gives you whatever you want. Want to go on a specific mission? Sure. What a shiny new gun? Absolutely. Want him to bed you over in his office and just devour you(I imagine this mans is such a giver)? Fuck yes. Wanna blow him under his desk while he’s on the phone with Shepherd? He’s already rock hard and ready. AHHHHG It’s just Warren’s Graves’ damn smile. 🫠

WARREN'S GRAVES’ SMILE MAKES ME INSANE TOO, BABY! I FEEL YOU 🤲🏼😭

Includes: mentions of s~mut; oral s~ex, both m & f receiving (minors DNI!), sugar daddy-ish Graves (but he loves tf outta you), this man is a GONER. 

COD x shy!wife thots closed! Thank you, everyone, for your time & amazing minds! I sincerely hope I can do this again with y'all soon! 💌

Come & check out my COD m.list!

Pray for this man because Phil knew he was done for as soon as he first saw you ✋🏼😔

Him being extra hard on you (in more ways than one) isn’t necessarily in terms of raising his voice more than the authoritative tone he already uses, but more so with an intense stare, or a deeper tone, you know? A stare which I feel like it takes everything in you not to do anything embarrassing as you stand with your team, be it a moan or a slight indication of you rubbing your thighs together. 

And it takes everything in him not to express his satisfaction the way he would behind closed doors. 

No doubt you can take whatever he gives as a commander, just like how he treats the rest of his team—you were a soldier before you were his, after all. But as soon as you and him get together, he has some sense of not letting his ego take charge in a disrespectful sense just to prove a point in front of his company. 

Listen, he’s not a relationship guy. He’s had his fair share long ago, only to opt for one-nighters with his line of work.

But now? He wouldn’t even dream of being in anyone’s presence (and bed) other than yours. 

You may as well mistake a Cupid’s bow accidentally shooting him each time the two of you are in private; raising your hands to his lips with a warmer look in his eyes, tugging you by the hand to sit on his lap as soon as you lock his office door, personally tending to your injuries. Or if the wound needs further medical attention, he'll come to check up on you once the professionals have settled their part.

Picture this: on your day off, you and him in bed after ‘sexc time’, cuddling in bed while looking out of the gigantic hotel windows, though really, Phil’s just looking at you and how the city lights just shine on your skin. 

But back to buying you shit!

Whether you’re the kind to react to his exorbitant gifts bashfully or immediately thank him by showering his face with lipstick-stained kisses, there is nothing in the world he wouldn’t get for you. Even with a mere glance at an item as you window shop, don’t be surprised to find it under your pillow or suspiciously slipped into one of your bags at the barracks. So, the second he notices your eyes linger on something, he will buy it, with or without your knowledge. 

This is just my two cents, but most, if not, all of the blorbos I've written for have a deep passion for you in red lipstick, and Phil is no doubt a part of that list. Even if you can't wear it all the time for obvious reasons, he wants you to keep it with you at all times. 

Because there are days when the two of you can't be in the same team together, much to his dismay, say, because of speciality differences, so one of you is needed elsewhere. 

So, when one day, you surprise him with a little gift before his departure by leaving a pretty red kiss mark on a piece of card, handkerchief or even on the glass of his watch, just know it'll be an always-thing. A habit, if you will, even if you're on the same team at that moment.

Missions, too, even if he downright hates your choices. Again, your respect over his own ego. He won’t stop you, and he has no right to, but expect to be in the same regime/team as his. Should anything happen to you, and he prays to God nothing does, he’ll be the first to find you. 

When days off seem so far, though, his office is where the ✨️ magic happens ✨️. 

It’s a common meeting place for the two of you, be it for sharing food you snuck out of the kitchen or letting him take his frustrations out by smothering his face in between your luscious thighs while you lay back on his desk. His office just has more life whenever you arrive. The reports can wait, he’s (mostly) his own boss, after all. The time you both have is more precious. 

And the part about you blowing him under his desk while he’s on the phone is so real of you.

He’s able to drone out Shepherd’s voice on the other end of the call because he knows the general’s just repeating what they’ve discussed days or hours prior. Phil’s more focused on your glassy eyes, struggling to encompass his sheer girth in your pretty little mouth, all while attempting to smile behind your tears. Looking up at him as he tilts his head back onto the office chair and occasionally bucks his hips while he disguises his moans with mindless grunts as if he had been listening to Shepherd yapping in the first place.

“Mhm, right, right…” His jaw clenched, eyes lidded and a lazy smile worth making you whine around his cock as he stared down at you. His phone was pressed in between his shoulder and ear as he rested his forearm on the head of the chair. The other hand brushed your hair back, enjoying the way your cheeks became just a tad more prominent at his gentle touches.

“Yeah, I’ll call you back about it,” He wanted to roll his eyes, initially at the thought of having to face him again, only for it to drag into a groan when the tip of his touched the back of your throat. He tossed his phone as soon as the call ended, a smirk returning to his face when he could finally focus on you. “Sorry, pretty girl.”

You choked a little when he gently pushed you to take him even more.

Oh, he wanted to hear more of that sound.

“You can take more o’me, can’t ya?”

˚ · . f i n . · ˚

Bonus:

Have you guys seen this video with the guy testing out a pink gun with a teddy bear keychain? THAT. Is most definitely the kind of gift that he’d definitely get for you at first sight. Deadass would twirl my hair if he got that for me.

I imagine that if your team learned about the pink gun (whether or not you added that Phil bought it for you), I just find it hilarious that they’d think it wouldn’t have a strong recoil since you didn’t seem to have a problem with it. And as soon as they give it a try, they just jerk back so violently, and Phil’s watching with the most infuriating smirk on his face since he’s seen you play and pose with it when you shoot, taking the drawbacks like no problem 😭😭

» gorgeous rose divider by the amazing @firefly-graphics ♡

[pablitogavii]

have u heard about gavi injury:((( he could be out for 9 months and i just cried so bad today:(( can u write a fic of reader comforting him after it? :( thank you and we all wishing him a speedy recovery 😭

First, it’s really hard to write about this..he deserved better 😭❤️

Till Forever Falls Apart

He got injured and when he came home to you everything changed..you expected him to struggle..but this was completely different Pablo..no more smiles..giggles..happiness..just a grim face and painful expression when his pain medications wore off.

“Would you like the cold compress while you wait amor??” You asked but be was just staring at the screen in silence not even watching the show.

“Pablito? Please,talk to me amor..it’s been days” you sat down and when he felt the couch dip he finally looked at you.

“Yeah, cold compress is fine..” was all he said and you sighed walking towards the kitchen to bring it to him to place it on his knee.

“Are you hungry??” You ask but he just shook his head grabbing his crutches about to get up silently.

“I’m tired. Maybe you should just leave me..I know I’m not what a girl needs right now” he said with tears in his eyes and your face froze as you stood up as well. What the hell was be talking about!!? Why would you leave him now??

“Amor..what..??” you couldn’t even bear to finish that sentence feeling your own eyes fill with hot tears.

“I’m nothing anymore!! All girls want is a football star and I can’t even walk now! I’m like a baby learning to walk again..just please..you fell in love with a footballer and not an invalid!!!!!” he was crying now and so were you. How could be say something so awful about himself to you.. doesn’t he know that hurts you more than any insult he would give you..you couldn’t stop sobbing in front of him.

“How could you be so selfish Pablo!? Nothing!? You are nothing!? And what about people who love you,huh!? Don’t you think they would suffer to hear you say that!? I didn’t fall in love with Pablo Gavi!! I fell in love with Pablo..my Pablo..boy who buys me flowers on the weekends..and takes me on walks..my Pablito who hates that nickname but let’s me use it anyhow cause I like it..I am here because I WANT TO BE HERE WITH YOU..FOREVER amor!!!!!!!” You were screaming by the end and he was holding onto every word now crying himself and sitting back down cause he couldn’t hold onto crutches anymore.

“I’m sorry preciosa..” he sighed crying into his hands as you took them in hours and pulled him to you chest where he continued to sob.

“Shh..shh it’s okay..I’m here..you’re okay” he was crying loudly while you rubbed his naked back gently kissing the crook of his neck and shoulder..(gif)

“I’m scared..I’m so scared amor” he menage to say and let out a sigh nodding your head and holding him tightly.

“I’m scared too cariño..but we will figure it out..first the tests..then the operation..and then the recovery. I’ll be here every step of the way and I believe in you..we all believe in you precioso” you said pulling back a little to clean his tears and he slowly calms down.

“What if this is the end of my career?? What if I’m too scared to play again?” He asked and you kissed his forehead longingly.

“You love football too much to quit..I know you and I know this is just your fear talking..once you’re back on that pitch, you will know what to do..trust me??” You ask and he smiles weakly nodding his head looking adorably into your eyes.

“I trust you preciosa..” he said and you smile nodding your head kindly and kissing his forehead. Later you helped him to bed, tucking him in and bribing his evening medication with some water.

“They’re all tagging me and I just can’t look at the screen right now..” Pablo said and you nod taking his phone and putting it on charger.

“They know you appreciate it..just rest cariño..this is your time to relax and take care of yourself” you say and he smiled thinking to himself how everything seems to be easy coming from your mouth. You bring him peace..you’re him home.

“With you by my side..come here preciosa” he said opening his arms and you smile carefully getting under the comforter not to hurt him before laying your head on his chest as he pulled you close to him.

“Don’t ever say that again..it hurt so much to hear it “ you say still crying over his words.

“I promise..I love you so much!!” he said kissing hour head and you look up making him kiss your lips.

“I love you too!!” you say into the passionate kiss you two shared then. Then, cuddled up together you fall asleep ready to face everything days bring together!!

[wosoluver]

Healers got to date protectors - Headcanons

Misa Rodriguez x Physio!reader

Misa Rodriguez Masterlist

──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──

Your first kiss

"Hey guys, good game tonight!" You came in smiling. They were all in the ice tubs.

Misa looked particularly moody.

"Hey. Are you in any pain?" You asked coming closer to her.

"No. Just disappointed with the results. We couldn't manage to get a goal."

"Well, you didn't suffer any either. It's the best defense we've had, in the last couple of games. Give yourself a little credit."

Misa cracked a small smile. She was the type to always focus on the things she considered to be bad, then to try and find the silver lining.

Differently from you, she spent most of her time, looking in.

Something that was hard for you to do. Hence your career based on taking care of others.

"Y/N!" Brunn caught your attention. "We're going out to celebrate, are you coming?"

By now you had already settled in. You had a great relationship with the players. You had earned each others trust. Friends almost. It was clear for everyone that even though you got along greatly with the medical staff, you just hadn't much in common with them. They were mostly middle aged man who took everything too seriously. You stood out like a sore thumb.

The girls practically took you in as one of them.

"Am I being the designated driver again?"

"You're off duty today. I already volunteered." said Misa.

"I'm in. I have to check up on Athenea and I'll head home, to get ready."

"I'll pick you up at 8." Misa let you know.

By 8:30 you were all at the club, having a drink at the table you had reserved.

Into the night you guys went. Between dancing bodies and drinks you finally decided going to the restroom, you let the girls know and made your way there.

Misa had gotten back from ordering another round at the bar and she realized you were not with the group.

"Where is Y/N?" she had to scream over the loud music.

"She went to the bathroom."

"Alone?!" as soon as they nodded yes, she was already running after you. Maybe where they're from, it is safer for women who were drunk and alone, but that wasn't the case here in Spain.

You were just coming out of the bathroom when a man you didn't know corned you against a wall.

"Please let me go."

"I just want to know your name. Are you single?"

But before you could say anything else, he was pushed away harshly. When you looked to check by who, you saw Misa. Angrier than you had ever seen her before.

You were about to thank her, when the man pushed her back. And before you could register anything else, she had landed a punch on the man's face.

"Misa!"

Soon security was there.

The man was escorted out. But you didn't feel like partying anymore. And Misa could tell.

"Come, I'll drive you home. We can text the girls to let them know we've left." She took your hand to guide you through the crowds of people.

"How are they getting home?"

"They can share an uber."

Arguing with her would be of no use. So you just let it be.

Once you got to the car, you could see her knuckles holding tightly to steering wheel. They were already bruising, one of them even had a small cut.

"Misa, your hand."

"It's fine, don't worry." her facial expressions still in a scary-angry way.

"I'm so sorry."

"The girls shouldn't have let you go alone."

You sobered up real quick after the scare you had.

Arriving home you didn't even say goodbye to her as you got out of the car.

"You can park here."

"What?" she asked confused.

"Your coming up with me, so I can take care of your hand.

And I'm not taking no for an answer."

She parked the car and got out to follow you up to the apartment.

"Come in, sit down while I get my aid kit." you said unlocking the door and turning the lights on.

Misa followed your commands quietly. Something everyone had noticed when you were around each other.

She would act like you were god on earth.

You came back to stand between her legs as you took her hand to check it.

You started cleaning the small cut, and proceeded to bandage it up.

"Does it hurt too much? I can't get you some pain meds."

But she only shook her head no. As you applied a healing ointment to the bruises.

"All done." you said as you looked up from her hands to her eyes.

You were so close you could feel each others breaths.

"Thank you." You said gently, on a low tone.

By now her face had already softened. In a way you had never seen before. It always felt like she couldn't let her guard fully down. So this sight was new to you.

"You worried the hell out of me." she said in a similar tone to yours. Giving a small laugh in the end.

"I'm sor-" but you were cut off by her lips on yours. As she pulled you in. After a minute or so, you both pulled away to breath properly.

"Healers need protectors, at least once in a while."

──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──

Hope you guys enjoy! Please leave your comments! There is a third part already planned, but if you have any ideas, you can send them in.🩷