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hoernypie · 2 months

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⋆.˚✮ real soaked ✮˚.⋆

tags: public

wc: 1873

The sun blazed down upon us as we lounged by the pool, the heat seeping into our skin and the scent of freshly cut grass mingling with the faint aroma of sunscreen. I lay on my stomach, flipping through the pages of a book that I couldn't focus on, my eyes frequently drifting shut. Satoru sat on the edge of the pool, his long legs dangling in the water, creating ripples that danced in the light. Without a word, he reached out and plucked the sunglasses from the top of my head, placing them over my eyes and tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear.

As the warmth of the sun grew more intense, the pages of my book grew sticky against my palms. Satoru's gaze never left me, his eyes hidden behind his own pair of sunglasses. He leaned back, his muscles flexing slightly as he shifted his weight. I could feel the tension in the air thicken. The scent of freshly cut grass grew stronger as the water called out to me, and before I knew it, the book slipped from my fingers, landing with a soft plop in the pool.

With a startled laugh, I sat up, the water droplets from my book landing and cooling my skin. Satoru's eyes remained fixed on me, a hint of amusement playing on his lips. He extended a hand, helping me to my feet. The electricity of his touch sent a shiver down my spine, and without thinking, I took a step closer to him. Our eyes locked, and in that moment, the heat of the day grew even more palpable. He leaned in, his breath warm against my neck as he whispered, "Let's cool off." Before I could respond, his strong arms were around me, lifting me gently into the pool. The cool water engulfed us as we fell in together, the sound of our laughter echoing through the air. The sensation of his skin against mine in the water was electrifying, and as we surfaced, our eyes never left each other's. The flirtatious tension had transformed into something undeniable, and we both knew that the day was about to take a very steamy turn.

The cool embrace of the water did little to extinguish the heat that we felt. We floated closer, our bodies brushing against each other as we treaded water, the light playfulness of our earlier interaction now replaced by a magnetic pull that was impossible to resist. Satoru's hand found mine, our fingers interlocking beneath the shimmering surface. His thumb traced lazy circles on the back of my hand, sending waves of desire crashing through me. Our laughter had subsided into quiet smiles and hushed whispers, our breaths growing quicker as we leaned in, the anticipation of our kiss growing with every passing second. When our lips finally met, it was a spark that set the entire pool alight with passion. His hands wrapped around my waist, pulling me closer as we kissed deeply, the water rippling around us. The heat of the day had nothing on the fire that burned between us, our bodies entwined as we kissed beneath the blazing sun, the world around us fading away to leave only us, in the cool water of the pool, lost in a moment of pure passion.

As our kiss deepened, Satoru's hand slid up my back, his fingertips grazing the edge of my bikini top. Our breaths grew ragged, mingling with the gentle sounds of the water lapping against our skin. Without breaking the kiss, he began to untie the strings, the fabric loosening and then floating away, leaving me exposed to the embrace of the water and his hungry gaze. Satoru’s touch grew more insistent, his hands exploring my body with a confidence that sent my heart racing. My own hands found their way to the waistband of his swim shorts, tugging him closer, feeling the heat of his desire against my thigh.

As our kiss grew more urgent, Satoru's hand slipped down my back, and the warmth of his touch sent a shiver down my spine. His fingers played with the strings of my bikini bottom, and the anticipation of his skin against mine was almost too much to bear. Our bodies aligned in the water, the coolness enveloping us as we moved closer, each touch igniting a new flame. The sun above us was forgotten as we lost ourselves in the intensity of the moment, the world outside the pool fading away to leave only the two of us, our hearts beating as one. With a gentle tug, the last barrier between us was removed, and we were skin to skin, our connection deepening as we kissed with a passion that seemed to fuel the very air around us. His hand cupped my cheek, turning my face to deepen the kiss.

Our kiss grew deeper, the water around us seemingly becoming warmer with every stroke of his hand. Satoru's fingers trailed down my neck, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. His hand slid over the curve of my shoulder and along my arm, reaching for the edge of the pool to anchor us as we floated together. The sensation of the water caressing our bodies only heightened the intimacy of our embrace. Our breaths grew quicker, mixing with the soft whispers of the water, as we grew bolder in our exploration of each other. His touch was tender yet firm as if he knew exactly what I needed, and the anticipation of what was to come had me trembling with excitement.

With our bodies now fully exposed to the sensual dance of the water, Satoru's erection pressed against my inner thighs, sending waves of raw desire through me. His hand slid down my waist, and with a gentle yet deliberate motion, he began to rub the length of his cock between my thighs, teasing the wetness that had gathered there. My breath hitched as his shaft glided against my pussy, the anticipation of his entry almost unbearable. His eyes searched mine for approval, and with a nod, I gave it, eager to feel him inside me. With a low growl, Satoru positioned himself, the tip of his cock nudging at my entrance. With one swift motion, he slid into me, filling me completely, the sensation sending a jolt of pleasure through my core. Our eyes remained locked as we began to move together, the water caressing our bodies as we made love in the shallow end of the pool, the heat of our passion a stark contrast to the coolness that surrounded us. Each stroke sent ripples through the water, a visual symphony of our desire as we became one, our bodies moving in a rhythm as old as time itself.

The feeling of Satoru's cock sliding into me was like nothing I had ever experienced before. The water added an extra layer of sensation, making each movement feel smoother and more intense. His hands gripped my hips, guiding me up and down as he filled me over and over again. The water splashed around us, a soft sound to our fun. I wrapped my legs around his waist, my arms around his neck, as our kisses grew more fervent. His strokes grew stronger, and faster, and I could feel the tension building within me. My nails dug into his back, leaving small trails of red against his skin as I moaned into his mouth, the pleasure threatening to overwhelm me. His own breath grew ragged, his grip tightening as he pushed deeper, his eyes never leaving mine. We were lost in each other, the world outside the pool no longer existing. The water around us was a testament to our passion, the ripples growing larger as our movements grew more urgent.

Our movements grew more frantic as we raced towards climax, our bodies moving as if they were one. I could feel my orgasm building, coiling tightly in my belly, ready to unleash like a tempest. With a final, powerful thrust, Satoru sent me over the edge, my body convulsing in pleasure as I cried out his name. The warmth of his release filled me, mingling with the coolness of the water as we reached our peak together, our bodies trembling in the aftermath of our shared ecstasy. We clung to each other, the ripples of our union spreading out across the pool's surface, a visual representation of the waves of pleasure that still coursed through our veins. As we caught our breath, our hearts beating in unison, we shared a knowing smile, the heat of the day nothing compared to the fire we had just stoked in the water.

As we floated there, our bodies still entwined, the aftershocks of pleasure fading into a gentle buzz, Satoru's eyes searched mine with a hunger that hadn't been sated. He leaned in, capturing my bottom lip with his teeth, playfully tugging before kissing me deeply again. Our limbs remained tangled, our bodies still joined, as the heat of the sun kissed our skin. With a sly grin, he whispered, "I hope you cooled off enough"

With a laugh that was part exhale of pleasure and part gasp for breath, I leaned my forehead against Satoru's, our eyes still locked. "No water can cool me down" I murmured, my voice low and sultry. He smirked, a mischievous glint in his eye and as the sun began to dip below the horizon, casting a warm glow over us, we knew that this lazy afternoon by the pool had become a memory that would forever be etched in our hearts.

"Oh, shit the book"

Suddenly remembering the book that had fallen into the pool earlier, we both looked over to where it lay, waterlogged and forgotten. With the passionate interlude behind us, Satoru and I couldn't help but laugh at the soggy mess the book had become. He kissed the tip of my nose playfully "I'll buy you a new one", his eyes gleaming with a hint of mischief. As we swam to the edge of the pool, our bodies still entwined, the coolness of the water was a stark contrast to the warmth of our skin. The light had softened into a warm glow, painting the scene with a romantic hue as we climbed out of the pool. Satoru's gaze lingered on my body, the way the water dripped from my skin leaving a trail of desire in its wake. He reached out and traced a droplet down my spine, sending a shiver through me, as if reminding me that the day was far from over. He whispered, "Let's get you something dry to wear."

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm golden glow across the sky, we decided to reluctantly depart from the tranquil poolside. Our hearts were still fluttering with the thrill of our unexpected sex, and we eagerly looked forward to delving further into the depths of each other's desires within the inviting walls of the house. We traded the lingering scent of chlorine and the intoxicating aura of our passion for the cozy warmth indoors, where we could savor the continuation of our intimate exploration.

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whimsicalpolitical · 27 days

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Tell him - Matty Healy x Ross MacDonald x Reader

in which matty realizes you have a thing for his best friend

content warning: 18+ mdni, smut, threesome, p in v, oral (f/m receiving), handjob, dirty talk, thigh riding

You sit next to Matty in a cozy booth at the pub, surrounded by his friends and bandmates. The lively chatter and laughter swirl around you, but your focus keeps drifting.

Your eyes are glued to Ross, drawn by some invisible force you can’t seem to resist. His dark hair is pulled back into a bun, a few loose strands framing his face in a way that’s effortlessly rugged. He’s wearing a black shirt, the top few buttons undone, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of his chest hair. The way it contrasts against his shirt, peeking through like it’s daring you to look, makes your pulse quicken.

There’s an air of quiet confidence about him, a magnetic presence that makes it hard to tear your gaze away. Every time he leans back in his chair, his shirt parts just enough to show more of that patch of hair, and you can’t help but wonder what it would feel like to trace your fingers over it, to feel the warmth of his skin beneath your touch.

The thought makes heat rush to your cheeks, a deep shame curling in your stomach. You’re sitting here with Matty, his arm draped casually around your shoulders, yet all you can think about is his best friend. It feels wrong, a betrayal, and the guilt gnaws at you, but that doesn’t stop the fantasies from creeping into your mind.

Matty notices. Of course he does. He always does.

With a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, he leans in closer to you, his breath warm against your ear. “Am I bothering whatever this is?” His voice is low, teasing, laced with that playful tone that makes your stomach flip.

You blink, torn from your reverie, and turn to him, your cheeks heating up. “What?” you manage to stammer, but the word comes out more flustered than you’d like.

“You’re staring, love. Not at me, though. Should I be jealous?” His fingers trail lightly over your arm, the touch sending shivers down your spine.

You open your mouth to deny it, to come up with some excuse, but the words don’t come. You feel flustered, caught off guard by how easily he reads you.

“It’s nothing,” you mumble, more to yourself than to him, but Matty’s having none of it.

“Oh, I don’t think it’s nothing,” he says, his tone still light, still teasing. “What’s got you so interested in Ross, hm? Should I be worried?”

You roll your eyes, trying to play it off, but the way he’s looking at you makes it impossible to ignore the flutter in your chest. “Don’t be ridiculous,” you mutter, attempting to sound casual, but the flush on your cheeks gives you away.

“Ridiculous, am I?” Matty grins, obviously having way too much fun with this. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say someone’s got a bit of a crush.”

“Matty-“ you begin, not knowing how to end your sentence, “I wasn’t- didn’t.”

Matty laughs at your failed attempt to defend yourself, “it’s alright, love. Come with me for a second.”

Before you can respond, he’s already sliding out of the booth, his hand finding yours and pulling you along with him. The pub is a blur of sound and movement as he leads you through the crowd, his grip firm and reassuring. You’re not entirely sure where he’s taking you until you find yourselves in the narrow hallway leading to the bathrooms.

Matty pushes open the door to the bathroom, the noise from the pub dulling to a low hum as the door swings shut behind you. The space is small, just barely enough room for the two of you, but Matty doesn’t seem to mind. He turns to face you, his eyes locking onto yours as he gently lifts you onto the counter, his hands settling on either side of you, trapping you in place.

The cool surface of the counter seeps through your clothes, grounding you a little, but your heart is still racing. Matty’s so close now, his breath warm against your skin, his body inches from yours, and the intensity of his gaze makes it hard to focus on anything else.

He takes a moment, just looking at you, like he’s savoring the sight of you flustered and cornered. Then, with a tilt of his head and that familiar smirk, he says, “remember our talk about a threesome months ago? How you said you’d want to explore that?”

“I- Matty,” you groan, hiding your face in your hands.

Your eyes widen, breath catching in your throat as you process his words. The memory of that conversation—half-joking, half-serious, shared in the quiet intimacy of his bed—floods back, and your face heats up instantly. You open your mouth to say something, but Matty doesn’t give you the chance.

“You’re alright. I said I would want to do that as well, so no reason to be embarrassed.”

His thumbs are rubbing slow circles into your thighs, “so,” he says, “d’you fancy Ross? Or is there something you’d like to do with him?”

You take a deep breath, trying to calm the fluttering in your chest. “I—I don’t know,” you admit, your voice barely more than a whisper. “It’s not really something I’ve thought about seriously. I mean, I like Ross, but—”

Matty’s expression softens slightly, though the playful edge never quite disappears. “It’s okay if you do,” he says, his voice soothing. “It’s all about what you want and what we’re comfortable with.”

He leans forward to give you a reassuring kiss.

“Darling, if you want me to talk to Ross I will, you just need to tell me if you want that.”

“You would suggest having a threesome?”

“Course. If you want to shag him this bad.”

You can’t help but huff out a laugh as well, pushing his shoulders softly, “piss off.”

“Don’t brat. I’ve got to know,” he starts, turning to face you with a teasing smile, “why Ross? Why not George?”

You blink at the question, caught off guard by how casual he sounds.

“Why Ross?” you echo, trying to buy yourself a moment to gather your thoughts. You hadn’t really considered it in those terms—it’s just something about Ross that draws you in, something that feels different. But how do you explain that to Matty without feeling completely exposed?

Matty’s grin widens as he watches you struggle for words. “Yeah, why Ross?” he presses, his tone light but with an edge of genuine curiosity. “I mean, George is right there too. So what’s got you all flustered about Ross?”

“I don’t know… It’s just that Ross has this… presence, I guess,” you begin, trying to find the right words. “He’s quiet, but in this really intense way, like there’s so much going on under the surface. And he’s always so steady, so calm but at the same times gives off a dominant energy but also really… I don’t know, attractive.”

“Hmm,” he murmurs, his thumb brushing gently over the back of your hand. “So it’s that quiet strength thing he’s got going on?”

You nod, relieved that he seems to get it. “Yeah, exactly. It’s like he doesn’t need to prove anything, he just is. And that’s… well, it’s hot.”

Matty chuckles, clearly amused by your reasoning. “Fair enough,” he says, nodding slightly as if he’s filing away the information for later. “I can see that. Ross is solid. He’s a catch.”

You laugh at his enthusiastic undertone, “alright. I love you, Matty. Really much.”

“I love you,” he chuckles, “then it’s settled, yeah? I’ll have a chat with him. Freshen up a bit, you look… flustered.”

“I wonder why,” you joke, pulling him in by grabbing his shirt. You move forward to kiss him and to run your tongue across his bottom lip.

You move back, “I’ll see you then?”

“Fuck yeah.”

You take a moment to freshen up, splashing some cool water on your face to calm the warmth that’s crept into your cheeks.

When you finally step out of the bathroom and back into the pub, your eyes instinctively scan the room for Matty. But then you notice something odd—Ross is gone. Your heart drops, a sinking feeling of dread creeping into your chest. Did Matty talk to him already? What if Ross was utterly disgusted by the idea? What if he didn’t want anything to do with this… with you?

You can’t help but imagine the worst, your mind running wild with all the possibilities. Maybe you overstepped, maybe you read things wrong, maybe this was a terrible idea from the start. The excitement you felt just moments ago starts to evaporate, replaced by a gnawing uncertainty.

Before you can spiral any further, Matty appears at your side, his hand slipping naturally into yours. He’s smiling, but there’s something in his eyes—something secretive, almost. It puts you on edge, but you don’t ask him what’s wrong. Maybe you’re too afraid to hear the answer, too scared that it’ll confirm your worst fears.

“Ready to head home?” Matty asks, his voice smooth as ever, though there’s an undertone you can’t quite place.

You nod, feeling a bit lost in your own thoughts. “Yeah, let’s go.”

The walk to the car is quiet, the night air cool against your skin. Matty pulls out a cigarette as you get in, lighting it with a practiced ease. The smoke curls around him as he drives, one hand on the wheel, the other flicking ash out of the open window. The silence between you feels heavy, weighted with unspoken questions. You want to ask him what happened, why Ross disappeared, but you can’t bring yourself to break the quiet.

Instead, you stare out the window, lost in your thoughts. The city lights blur as you pass by, your mind replaying the evening over and over, trying to piece together what went wrong.

The car comes to a slow stop in front of Matty’s place. You both get out and walk towards your door, however Matty doesn’t pull out his house keys, he knocks.

You furrow your brows, a confused laugh escaping your lips, “what-“

But before you can finish, the door swings open, and there, standing in the doorway, is Ross.

Your breath catches in your throat as your eyes meet his. Ross looks just as composed as ever, his gaze steady, but there’s something different in the way he’s looking at you—an intensity that makes your pulse quicken. You glance back at Matty, who’s smiling that secretive smile again.

“Go on,” Matty says, his voice warm as he gestures for you to go inside first.

You hesitate for a split second, but then you step forward, offering Ross a small, uncertain smile as you do. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Ross replies, his voice deep and even, his expression unreadable.

Matty steps in behind you, closing the door with a soft click. “Hey, mate.”

Your heart is beating so fast you’re sure they can both hear it. You’re still not entirely sure what’s happening, but the way Matty and Ross are looking at you—there’s no mistaking the shared understanding in their gazes.

Matty’s the first to break the silence as he shrugs off his jacket and shoes, “let’s not beat around the bush, I talked to Ross and as you can see he’s here and quite into the idea.”

“D’you want something to drink?” He continues, walking into the kitchen, “I have wine.”

“Wine’s perfect,” Ross says, offering you a warm smile as he settles onto the couch.

You’re hyper-aware of every move, every glance, every shift of his body. The way he leans back, so calm and composed, only adds to that quiet intensity you find so attractive.

Your eyes meet, and there’s something unspoken passing between you—something that makes your heart race all over again. You’re not sure what to say, if you should say anything at all, but Ross seems content just to watch you, his gaze steady and patient, as if he’s waiting for the right moment.

A minute later, Matty returns with a bottle of wine and three glasses. He sets them down on the coffee table, pouring each of you a generous amount before handing you your glass. You take it gratefully, hoping it will calm the nerves that have you feeling like you’re on the edge of something you can’t quite name.

Matty settles in beside you, close enough that his thigh presses against yours, a comforting presence that steadies you a little. He raises his glass with a casual smile. “To this evening,” he says, his voice warm with underlying meaning.

You clink glasses, the sound delicate and sharp in the quiet room. The wine is smooth and rich on your tongue, its warmth spreading through you, loosening some of the tension coiled tight in your chest.

The conversation starts out light—just the three of you chatting about nothing in particular, the familiarity between Matty and Ross easing some of the awkwardness you feel. But there’s an undercurrent to it all, something more, something charged, that lingers just beneath the surface.

Eventually, you find yourself leaning back into the cushions, the warmth of the wine and Matty’s presence making you relax. You’re so caught up in the moment, in the easy flow of conversation, that you almost don’t notice when Ross shifts slightly closer to you on the couch. But then his hand brushes against yours—soft, barely there, but enough to send a spark through you.

You glance up at him, your breath catching as you realize that this is it—this is the moment where things are about to shift. There’s no going back now.

Ross holds your gaze for a moment longer, as if gauging your reaction, then his hand moves with a quiet certainty, resting on your knee. The touch is firm but gentle, his palm warm through the fabric of your jeans. Your heart skips a beat, the reality of the situation sinking in.

Matty, noticing the shift, leans back with a satisfied smirk, taking a sip of his wine as if this is exactly what he was expecting. His hand comes to rest on your lower back, a small but reassuring touch.

“Go on,” Matty murmurs softly, his voice teasing but encouraging. “I think we’ve all been waiting long enough.”

Ross doesn’t need any further prompting. He slides his hand up your thigh, the slow, deliberate motion sending shivers through you. You can feel the tension in the air thickening, the anticipation growing with every second.

“Is this alright?” Ross asks, his voice low, a gravelly timbre that sends a thrill through you.

You nod, your voice catching in your throat for a moment before you manage to whisper, “Yeah, it’s alright.”

That’s all the confirmation Ross needs. He leans in slowly, his lips brushing against your jawline, testing, before he presses a soft, lingering kiss there. It’s gentle, almost tentative, but it sends a wave of warmth through you, your breath hitching as you turn your head slightly to give him better access.

Ross pulls back just enough to look at you, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation. But all you feel is a rush of excitement, the thrill of being in this moment with them, of exploring something you’ve only ever thought about in passing.

When you don’t pull away, Ross moves in again, this time capturing your lips with his in a slow, deliberate kiss. It’s different from Matty’s—less playful, more intense, with a depth that takes your breath away. You respond instinctively, your hand coming up to rest on Ross’s chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat under your palm.

Matty shifts beside you, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, “just enjoy it, darling.”

You do. You let yourself sink into the kiss, into the warmth of Ross’s body, into the reassurance of Matty’s presence.

When he pulls back you want to kiss him again but Matty’s moving faster.

“Let’s move to the bedroom.”

You nod and stand up, letting the boys go first.

When you’re in your familiar space Matty undresses himself first, first unbuttoning his white shirt and then pulling his tank top off his torso.

You're not sure where to look - him, or Ross - when he unbuckles his belt and lets his jeans drop to the floor.

You're up next. He stands behind you and wraps his arms around your body as he unbuttons your own shirt, peering over your shoulder as he undoes the buttons slowly, one by one until he reaches the bottom. He peels the fabric off of your shoulders and lets it fall to the floor, joining his pile of clothes. He unzips your jeans and bends down to help you step out of them and you're stood there in front of Ross, clad in nothing but a bra and panties. "Let him see you," Matty whispers, and you drop your arms.

Ross’ eyes drop down to your body and he smirks, “you’re a gorgeous one, love.”

You gain a bit of confidence and walk towards Ross to intertwine your lips again.

It's a burning ember of feverish desire as he parts himself open and open, tongues slowly rolling against each other until a moan slips out of you. "You like this? Don't think it's weird or anything?"

"M'fine." You answer

"Tell us to stop, we’ll stop.”

"No."

You can feel Matty pressing against your back, the pads of his fingers digging themselves into your flesh, marking the spots where Ross’ lips can't reach as Ross dips into your collarbone and sucks. Hard. He leaves you purple and aching, your neck craned as the your boyfriend dips your head back and gazes down at you.

"Christ, she likes that."

You sigh in bliss, slowly unraveling at the seams.

And oh, your whole body fucking stutters when Ross dips his hand between your legs, causing you to lurch for Matty’s mouth in order to stifle the whiny gasp of surprise knocked out of you. His palm envelops your jaw. He's warm. Wet. Lids moony and lips silky with an indiscernible impatience you can't recognize.

More. Give me more of you.

You jolt as Ross’ other hand carefully unclasps your bra, his nose nudging against the valley of your breasts before he's cupping you in a lazy grasp.

He mouths at your nipples and he savors it. He thanks you. He thanks you with a twist to one of the hardened buds, soothing the area with his tongue before his teeth climb up the front of your neck and he makes you whimper.

"Fuck, you sound so pretty." He hums. "Sensitive thing, aren't you?“

A bite. A bruise. An apologetic kiss even though he's far from sorry.

And while Ross traverses his way up to your mouth, Matty dips down to nurse a path all over your back.

Your shoulders are bare and waiting as he takes your flesh between smiling lips and leaves a glistening trail of wet, open-mouthed pecks on your flexing muscles.

Ross gives you another hungry kiss, only this time it's like you haven't kissed at all. He kisses you like he doesn't already have you yearning and yearning for more. He bites your bottom lip, drawing a raspy gasp from the back of your throat. His nose smashes against your cheek as he moans into you, the taste of cigarettes lingering on your tongue.

"You're so pretty." Matty ruts against your tailbone, collecting your hair into a careful fist and tugging until you're pulled away from your deepening kiss. "Hmm, you like Ross kissing you like this?”

"Yes,” you gasp.

Ross pulls his fingers from you and steps back causing you to try to move forward again to seek the same feeling he gave you seconds ago.

Matty chuckles and moves away from you, sitting against the headboard. “Come here.”

You obey and right as you want to sit on his lap he tuts, “nah, body towards Ross.”

Matty spreads his legs and makes you sit against him, back to his chest.

“Ross,” Matty says, “you have her, right darling?”

“Y- fuck, yes.”

“Can’t believe you’re sharing her with me, such a gorgeous, perfect girl. Bet she likes that, though. Having us both.”

It’s the first time you hear Ross talk like that and it makes your panties even more damp then they already are.

You watch Ross moving closer to the bed while he throws his shirt over his head, his happy trail on full display for you.

Your eyes travel down further, following his hair and stop at his obvious bulge. Your instinct is telling you to help him out but Matty’s got you in his grasp. You’re staying where you are.

“D’you want me to taste you? Make you feel good?”

You nod which causes Ross to throw his head back laughing, “haven’t told her to always use her words, mate?”

“Actually, I have. You’re not going shy on us, are you darling?”

You shake your head but stop when you realize that’s not what they want, “no, of course not.”

Ross chuckles, “course, ‘cause we can’t have that, can we?”

“Not shy,” you say, “just- this is just new.”

“Mhm,” he smiles, hovering over you now.

He tilts your chin up so he can kiss you, then kisses down your jaw and your neck, sucking and biting your skin on his way down.

“It’s alright, love. Relax for us.” He kisses down, down, down until he's reached your pussy. He presses a kiss over the already damp fabric of your underwear and hums in satisfaction. "Lift up," he says, pulling your panties down your legs before tossing the garment to Matty.

Matty catches the fabric, “fucks sake. What a mess she made," Matty comments, rubbing his thumb over the damp spot of your panties. His eyes flicker back down to you as he brings them to his face, inhaling your scent deeply. "They’re drenched. Ross really does it for you, hm.”

Ross grins into the flesh of your inner thighs, proud to trigger the same reaction your boyfriend does. He would never show or admit it but you stroke his ego immensely.

One of your hands finds Ross’ scalp and tugs on his hair, removing the hair tie. He kisses your slick folds, sucking one into his mouth and then the other. Ross dips inside your heat, all warm and slick just for him as he inhales you, tastes you - your musk, your sweet arousal, just like honey on his tongue. He uses the muscle to trace you lazily, more for himself than you before he finds your clit, licking and sucking the sensitive part of you.

His big doe eyes sparkle as he eats you the way he wants to - savoring you and your body. He's all passion and devotion.

“Doesn’t she just taste absolutely divine?” Matty asks behind you, his hand starting to move to your neck, squeezing before it moves over your breast, catching your nipple between his fingers.

“Fuck,” you moan.

Ross only hums against you, sending another wave through your body.

You throw your head back as much as you can, hiding in the crook of Matty’s neck, eyes closing but again, Matty is not satisfied.

“Open your eyes or we’ll stop right now. You wanted Ross and now you’re going to look at him.”

Ross is still lapping between your thighs and you physically can’t open your eyes, mumbling a bunch of ‘sorry’s’ while your hands grip his hair tighter.

Ross turns his head to the side and bites your thigh, not hard but enough to startle. "What did Matty just tell you?" Matty scolds. "Sorry, mate" he mumbles against your skin.

"S'alright. I know she's new to it." Ross’ words go straight to your core. It's that condescending tone, paired with that sugar-sweet smirk on his lips as he says it.

Ross’ tongue and lips on your clit continue to work magic. He eats you like it's not something he's doing for you, but to you, his own endeavor. It's all lust and hunger, fingertips bruising your skin under his vice-like grip, tongue relentlessly laving over your sex. His beard gently scratches your inner thighs, rubs you raw so that you'll be feeling him in the coming days after this.

“There we go, baby. Fuck, you take good care of my girl, don’t you, Ross?”

You writhe and grind against Ross’ mouth, attempting to take some semblance of control over your pleasure. Ross swats your ass cheek and holds you still. You're gonna take what he gives you, feel exactly what he wants you to. Feel his aquiline nose circling your clit, his tongue dipping in and out of your slick hole. You let out moans, pleasure building quickly. You feel it everywhere - deep in your gut, up your spine, down your legs.

Matty listens to everything while paying good attention to your nipples and sucking marks into the skin on your neck.

“You close, love?”

“Yeah,” you breathe, “so close.”

"Not yet, Ross," Matty says. And Ross listens. Your mouth drops, your eyes wide and dismayed like a wounded animal as he retreats from you, his lips and chin shiny with your juices. You look at Ross with that same hurt expression.

"Hey. Don't you pout at him like that," Matty barks.

A contrite look washes over your face and you apologize quickly, "sorry.”

Ross looks impressed by the way you submit yourself so readily to him. "Don’t worry about it,” he purrs.

Matty moves from behind you and scoots to the left side of the bed, motioning to Ross to take his place, who sheds off his suit pants right now.

He takes a second to press his palm down his bulge to try to release a bit of pressure.

“Fuckin‘ hurts, doesn’t it?“ You take your eyes off Ross to look at your boyfriend. Matty‘s palming himself over his boxers in a slow, torturous pace, pre cum staining the fabric.

“Yeah, but it’s worth it.”

You turn around, kneeling on the bed waiting for anything.

Ross lays down exactly like Matty did and Matty copy’s Ross’ action, laying exactly next to him.

“Sit,” Matty orders, pointing at the thigh closest to Ross. “Take care of him.”

“What about you?”

You lean into him when he touches your cheek, “don’t worry about me, yeah? I’m enjoying the show.”

You accept his answer and move onto Matty’s thigh, his muscles immediately giving you a little friction which you will absolutely use for your own pleasure.

You wait until Ross got rid of his boxers and fuck, he’s big. You don’t want to start comparing in your head but it’s clear that Ross is bigger, in length and in thickness.

A shared moan from Ross and yourself cuts your thinking short as you give his long shaft an experimental tug, running your thumb over his shiny slit till he's hissing at you.

"Just like that, love." Ross groans, a hand coming to stroke the back of your head till he's grasping the nape of your neck and making you watch yourself stroke his cock. "See what you do to me, s’ incredible.”

“christ... fuck, your hand feels so good.”

His chin tilts back, eyes rolling into his skull as you crudely lick the palm of your hand and reach for his balls, coating him in a glistening film that has you drooling beneath the surface. "Let me make you feel good, please?"

"Yeah? That what you want?" He grits out, sighing as you drag your tongue along the ink on his pelvis.

"Please?"

"I could never say no" Ross hums, leaning back against Matty’s shoulder, your tiny fist instantly reaches for his heavy cock. He nods at it, dropping his look from your clouded eyes to where his cock rests against his lower stomach. "It's all yours.”

You test the waters out by rolling your hips against Matty’s thigh, moaning his name out in the process. When Matty supports you by holding on to your hips, you don’t stop, grinding your clit down harder.

Fingers covered in saliva as you pump Ross in your grasp, massaging the sensitive ridge under his tip with each upward stroke. A squeeze to his shaft everytime Matty grips your hips and makes you grind against him rubbing your clit just the way you need him to. Ross’ hands wander over your neck, gripping you flush against him until you're leaning over to take his cock into your mouth.

“Such a lovely girl,” Ross groans as you take him, lips suctioning around the aching head of his dick before you're dragging your tongue down the velvety, wet base of him. He shudders visibly once again. "Jesus fucking Christ, babe. you’re p-perfect.”

You try to suck him in deeper when your own movements get faster, his mouth back around your nipple, biting and licking as Ross instinctively pushes on the back of your head and shoves you further down his cock. He holds you there, mewling at the way saliva and cum dribble down his ruddy shaft, pooling around his balls.

“Baby,” you hum back in response, continuing to move yourself up and down his thigh.

The pressure in your lower belly grows quickly, the ruined orgasm from earlier building. Moans, whines and whimpers are leaving your lips as your hips move faster and faster, desperate for some release.

“Matty,” you whine, sound muffled by Ross’ cock down your throat. Your hands gripping onto soft skin on Ross’ hips while Matty’s lips are still attached to your neck, nipping and kissing and sucking at you.

“Are you going to cum for us, baby?” you nod your head rapidly, a whiney ‘uh huh’ falling from your mouth which falls open as you screw your eyes shut. A mantra of ‘please, please, Matty’ can be heard as you speed up your movements, moving more harshly against his thighs, now, as you get really close.

“Be a good girl, love,” his voice is husky, his words and his hands gripping your hips and the friction makes you fall over the edge. Your legs seized up, but you continue moving, hoping to make it last as long as possible, ‘fuck’s and ‘oh god’s fall from your lips, alongside matty’s name.

“fuck, you’re so good for us,” your hips slow as your orgasm comes to an end.

“Should I pull off?” Ross asks, still groaning as you move up and down his cock.

“Nah, let her taste you. She deserves that.”

“Yeah, fuck, course.”

You flatten your tongue against the underside of his cock, relishing in the way Ross’ dick twitches.

“I- christ. I’m coming.” He paints your tongue with his hot, salty spend, ropes and ropes of it spurting from his thick, twitching cock. He fucks your mouth through his orgasm, his thrusts turning slower, more shallow in time as you take every last bit of his come, swallowing it all.

“Sorry, was that too much?” He pants.

“No,” you smile, leaning forward to kiss him, squeezing his dick one hard time so he groans into your mouth allowing you to slip him the tongue, showing him how he feels.

“Minx,” he breathes against your mouth.

Matty watches the both of you in awe, still holding on to you hips but moving closer to the both of your faces.

He grips Ross’ jaw, moving him away from you to repeat the motion you just did. You feel yourself clench around Matty’s soaked thigh at the view of the both of them making out.

They’re lazily slipping each other the tongue, breathing in each others mouths and Ross gripping the back of Matty’s neck to not stop whatever they’re doing.

Matty’s the only one who didn’t finish tonight and it’s obvious. He bucking his hips into the air, not gaining any friction and therefore whining against Ross’ lips.

You decide to make him feel good as well, he’s the reason you’re having fun with Ross and you don’t want him to feel like you don’t care anymore.

You pull his boxers off of him, his cock springing up to his stomach, burning red and aching. You spit into your hand and press your palm against the tip at first, watching as he struggles to keep kissing Ross.

“Fucking christ,” he moans, not wasting any second to start thrusting himself into your hand, “fuck.”

You keep your pace slow, your other hand gripping his balls trying to get every sound out of him as possible.

He swats your hand away when you try to speed up.

“Need to be inside my girl now, show Ross how good you are.”

“Yeah, yes.”

Matty grins at Ross before gripping your waist and pushing himself on top of you.

You know he’s desperate because he slides inside of you immediately, no teasing, no mocking, he just needs you.

He slides inside you inch by inch, letting you feel the delicious stretch, fingernails deep into his shoulder, face in his neck.

His chest rises and falls in tandem with yours, both of you sharing in the euphoria. "Fuckin’ hell.”

Matty whispers in your ear, teeth nipping your earlobe, tongue soothing it over. “You're doing so good, love, look so pretty spread open.”

You feel yourself growing slicker and sweatier at his words until, finally; he's fully sheathed inside you.

You're so full. He's taken over your senses; plugging you, filling you to the brim.

"Move, Matty. Please."

He's crowding over you, fucking into you. It's a heady realisation: you urge him on, and his thrusts deepen, and you're already cresting the wave, riding the blisstul sensation of him inside you.

“Ross-“ you moan, “do something, please.”

Matty nods and Ross reaches between Matty’s and your body playing with your clit, dragging his thumb around the sensitive bud.

Matty looks down at where Ross’ hand is and his hips falter, “fuck, I’m not gonna last long.”

Matty’s breathing is ragged. You feel him everywhere, fucking you in a way you've never experienced before. You're so close, and you know he is too.

"Want one more from you first, darling.“

“And I want-“ you whine, “Ross inside, next time, please.”

Ross’ eyes widen but he smirks and kisses your cheek, “Is Matty not enough? Need me as well, you’re filthier than I thought.”

Matty’s hand closes round your throat, claiming you as his own. “This is not the last time we’re doing this, don’t worry.”

You bite and scratch and sob in his arms, falling over the edge as your legs shake around him.

Ross grins at the both of you, his thumb still putting pressure on you.

You can hear Matty, vaguely, calling you his good girl, telling you he's coming, painting you with him.

Foreheads pressed together.

You're sticky with him, drenched in sweat, and sated beyond belief.

He kisses you, tenderly this time. In a way that feels more strangely intimate than anything that's already passed between you both.

“Fuck.”

“Can’t believe we just did that,” Matty says, pulling out of you and rolling over leaving you in the middle of you and Ross.

You’re cocooned between them, the heat of their bodies surrounding you, their breaths slowing as the adrenaline fades. Matty's arm is draped possessively around your waist, his leg tangled with yours, anchoring you to him. Ross, on your other side, has his leg thrown over both of you, his large hand resting comfortably on your thigh. The room is thick with the scent of sweat, sex, and something else—something tender that lingers in the quiet moments that follow.

You turn your head toward Matty, your eyes meeting his. There’s a softness in his gaze now, the teasing edge gone, replaced by something far more vulnerable. You lean in to kiss him, your lips brushing against his with a gentle sweetness that contrasts sharply with the intensity of everything that came before. He kisses you back, slow and languid, as if savoring every second, every taste of you.

When you pull away, you shift slightly to face Ross, who’s been watching the two of you with a small, satisfied smile. You reach up to cup his cheek, drawing him in for a kiss as well. His hand tightens on your thigh as he kisses you back, his lips warm and insistent, drawing out a quiet sigh from deep within you.

When you finally break apart, Ross rests his forehead against yours, his breath warm against your skin. “You enjoyed yourself then?” he asks, his voice low and slightly rough from exertion.

You can’t help but smile, nodding as you let out a contented sigh. “Of course,” you murmur, the words heavy with truth. “That was… incredible.”

Ross chuckles softly, the sound rumbling through his chest. “Good,” he says, his thumb brushing over your hip in a soothing motion. “That’s what we wanted.”

Your eyelids grow heavy, exhaustion tugging at the edges of your consciousness now that the adrenaline has worn off. You yawn, nestling closer to Matty, your body sinking into the mattress as the comforting weight of his arm wraps around you.

Matty chuckles softly, noticing the way your body is starting to relax. “You’re knackered, aren’t you?” he teases, his tone gentle, a stark contrast to the commanding edge he had before. “You can sleep, darling. I’ll clean you up.”

You nod sleepily, feeling safe and secure between them, every muscle in your body heavy and warm. “Thanks,” you mumble, your eyes already starting to close.

Matty presses a soft kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment. “Rest now,” he whispers, his hand rubbing slow, comforting circles on your back.

Ross stays put next to you and when Matty’s done with cleaning you up you all fall asleep next to each other.

#matty healy #ross macdonald #matty healy smut #ross macdonald smut #matty healy x reader #matty Healy x Ross Macdonald x Reader #matty healy x you #matty healy imagine #matty healy blurb #matty healy oneshot #ross macdonald x you #ross macdonald x reader #ross macdonald imagine #ross macdonald blurb #ross macdonald one shot #the 1975 #george daniel #adam hann #the 1975 fic

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blueicequeen19 · 1 year

Text

Charter Ch. 2

Warnings: implied protected sex, dirty talk, a whole lot of family issues, JJ being an asshole, angst, boss x employee

Part One

My heart was in my throat the whole next day up until he showed up for the last part of the shift. It took everything in me to act like everything was fine as we went about our day to day routine.

JJ had a daughter. One with the sweetest baby voice and had sounded like she was over the moon about her dad. And the way his face had lit up when he’d answered the phone? My heart melted. There was so much more to him. Why was he keeping her a secret? He’d never once mentioned having a daughter but then again why would he?

I sighed, stocking the shelves closer to closing hours with more tourist items: shirts, magnets, keychains and more.

“I’m going to lock up.” JJs voice startled me but I nodded in acknowledgment as he went to the front door and twisted the lock. I glanced at my phone, noting that he was closing a whole hour early but I made no comment as I flipped the lights off and followed him into the back. I stacked the empty boxes by the back door and waited for him to finish counting the money.

I tried to keep calm but I couldn’t. My heart was racing in my chest. My skin was buzzing. I almost felt lied to. Then the lights were turned off and I gasped, moving to jump off the work bench but he was there, a hand on my waist and pushing me back.

“JJ.” I breathed, my hands going to his chest as he leaned to kiss my neck. I shivered against him, fisting his shirt as his tongue met my skin.

“You always smell so fucking good.” JJ groaned in my ear, reaching down to grip my ass over my shorts. I pushed at his chest. I couldn’t breathe.

JJ paused, pulling back to look down at me. He was so fucking tall and he smelled amazing too. Even with a hint of weed.

“What’s wrong?” He murmured in that voice thick with need. That husky voice that had my body on fire.

“You have a daughter.” I didn’t know how else to say it and for once I was grateful i couldn’t make out his face in the dark. I felt his body stiffen and his hands tighten on my waist.

“Is that a problem for you?” He finally asked.

“No! No, it’s not a problem. I just had no idea.” I blurted, suddenly feeling like I should’ve kept my mouth shut.

“Why would you?” His words stung. Even if he wasn’t trying to hurt me, it still stung. Over the past year I’d vented about my life and he never once brought up his daughter. I didn’t say anything as I shook my head, hating myself for bringing this up. I reached for his belt, wanting to feel something better, but his hands stopped me.

“I don’t talk about my daughter because people get weird. Like you are right now.”

“I’m sorry. It’s none of my business. I was just surprised.” I swallowed the lump in my throat as I reached for his belt again. I heard him chuckle before he lifted me onto the work bench.

“Don’t be sorry. I’d be surprised too if I found out you had a secret child.” I heard the smile in his voice and my anxiety lessened. He could be funny when he wanted to be.

“How old is she?” I blurted, lifting my hips as he removed my shorts and panties. His hands paused for a moment before he dropped the clothes next to me on the work bench.

“She’s five.” JJ slid his hands between my thighs, caressing me but not touching where I was aching for him. My legs started to shake as his rings glided against my skin.

“You were young when you had her.” His finger tips touched my slit and I shuddered.

“I was.” I arched my body in search of his touch when he finally slid a finger inside me. I whimpered, letting my head fall back as he pumped slowly. He was trying to distract me.

“Fuck.” I moaned, propping my feet up on the work bench to open myself wider. JJ slid in another finger as his free hand moved under my tank top and under my bra to pinch my pierced nipple. I hissed and he curled his fingers.

“Stop. I’ll cum like this.” I pleaded, my body shuddering.

“Isn’t that the point?” He added a third finger and I came with a cry, rocking my body in sync with his fingers.

“I want to cum with you inside me.” I panted.

“I am inside you.” Bastard. His fingers curled hard and I moaned like a porn star.

“Your cock.” I bit out, reaching out blindly to fist his shirt. I heard him chuckle, the sound heating my blood as I heard his zipper lower.

“You want to cum on my cock?” JJ rasped, rolling on a condom and crowding me on the work bench. The weight of him was against my thigh and I wrapped my hand around it, guiding him to my entrance.

“I want to feel you deep inside me when I cum.” The tip slid in with ease.

“What about when I cum?”

“What about it?” The words barely leave my lips and he’s fisting the nape of my hair, yanking me forward so I’m burying him to the hilt with one go. I’m too stunned to make a sound. Especially not when he kisses me hard as he starts fucking me.

“Where’s her mother?” The words slip out of me before I can stop them. We’ve just locked up and set the alarm before making our way to the street where were parked. JJ’s back stiffens and I swear I hear the way his jaw clenches. Even his hands tighten to fists for a moment and I realize I’ve crossed a line.

“Why? A father can’t raise his daughter on his own?” JJ spats, turning to face me with fire in his eyes. Definitely a sore subject.

“No.. I just.. wondered if she had anyone else in her life. Being a single parent is hard.”

“I’m all she needs.” I immediately wondered who watched her when he was at work in the evening.

“And that’s okay! But it’s also fine for her to have more.” My chest tightens with the words I wished someone had said for me as a child. I needed more growing up and maybe that’s why I was so damn interested in him. JJ starts to step towards me but stops, his eyes narrowing.

“You don’t get an opinion on my life or my daughters just because we’re fucking.” He bites out through his teeth, low enough that no one else would hear. I glare back at him.

“Why are you being such a fucking dick? I was just curious. Obviously her mother isn’t in the picture and I’m sorry for bringing it up but you need to cool your emotions because I won’t be the first person to ask.” My chest heaved with the words, my eyes burning with the threat of tears as we stared at each other.

“Maybe you should look for another job to curb your curiosities.” JJ spat, turning without another word and climbing into his truck.

I offered him the middle finger as he drove away before climbing into my car and letting the tears fall.

#smutwarning #outer banks smut #jj maybank smut #jj maybank fic #obx2 #jj maybank imagine #rudy pankow #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank x you #jj obx #jj maybank #dad!jj

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skyfallscotland · 7 months

Text

*giggles hysterically*

Did I write the things I should have been writing today? No. Did I start something new I absolutely should not have started? Yes, of course.

To be honest, I blame all of you. Far too many of you were enthusiastic about the possibility of Remi bonding both Lía and Sgaeyl, in a world where Xaden went into the infantry. ⚔️🌟

“What is he doing?” I murmur to myself, gripping the scales of Lía’s pommel tight.

“Pay attention!” Sgaeyl snaps and I whip my head to the side. She’s glaring at me in that ornery way of hers, golden eyes narrowed as she breathes out a steady stream of fire at a Wyvern descending from the clouds above us. Lía rolls, jerking us out of the way as Sgaeyl flips around, aiming her talons at the larger beast’s underbelly.

“I’m paying attention…” I bite my lip, chastised.

“No you weren’t.” Lía grumbles. I hate it when the two of them gang up on me. It is usually when I’m endangering my own life, but that’s neither here nor there. Almost against my will, my eyes flick back down toward the ground, checking on the infantry officer’s position.

He’s been down there for most of this battle, helping evacuate civilians from the township into the old mining tunnels. It’s not the perfect place to run to, given they could collapse under the weight of the mountain, but it’s not like they’re making it up the hill out in the open so…

Originally, a few of the man’s unit were on the ground with him, helping out, but now only he remains—the captain. My attention is drawn back to the fight in front of me as Lía grasps the wyvern’s neck in her jaws, clamping down as Sgaeyl lashes out again with her talons. The carcass plummets to the ground, landing with a heavy thud.

“Remi! If we take down the venin riders, the wyvern go down with them!” Violet calls across our mental link and a sharp smile pulls at my lips.

“Thanks, sis!” I flip the dagger in my hand I’d been given by my squad leader, Garrick, before we joined this fight.

“So, where’s the closest?” I ask, wondering if I should unbuckle my legs from my saddle.

“Don’t you dare.” Lía responds to my thoughts.

Almost simultaneously Sgaeyl swoops downward and says, “below.” My eyes widen and I lean to the side, following her trajectory with my eyes. The female with the staff is standing dead centre in the middle of the field, robes billowing. She slams her staff into the ground and I watch, morbidly fascinated as the ground quickly starts decaying, grass dying in a perfect circle around her. It extends outward like a wave and when it shows no signs of slowing down, my fascination turns to fear.

“Sgaeyl!” I call out frantically, my head whipping around. My gaze lands on the infantry captain a short distance away where he stands, wide eyes locked on the venin as he helps a woman in brown riding leathers to her feet. A gryphon flier. “Get them, please!” I beg, my heart pounding as I lean forward on Lía’s back, preparing to throw. I can’t watch as my bonded complies, navy scales shining in the sun as she launches herself sideways.

We’re almost directly on top of the venin when Lía turns, providing me with just the right angle to throw my dagger and have it embedding in the venin’s heart. I pull on it with lesser magic, making sure to drive it all the way through and out the other side as Lía and I soar over, before it comes sailing back into my hand.

The second I verify she’s not getting back up, my eyes are searching, looking frantically for Sgaeyl. I relax a little when I see her form in full flight, headed for the hillside, two decidedly human forms grasped in her claws. I sag back into the seat, relieved. Fuck, that was close.

Before I have a chance to even think, the sky is erupting, lightning flashing down from a clear, blue sky and then the last of the wyvern are falling, their carcasses shaking the earth below as they rain down. “Good job, sis.” I murmur.

Something almost cosmic draws my eyes back to the hillside, like there’s a magnetic force dictating my attention belongs there and I frown. Lía moves without me even having to ask. In only seconds she’s perched on the hillside next to Sgaeyl who seems to be in a standoff with an irritated looking gryphon.

“Are you causing trouble with our temporary allies?” I smirk.

“Oh please, you’d be just as annoyed if you had to deal with it.” It. Like she can’t tell if it’s male or female—or simply doesn’t care because they’re worth less than dirt to her. Amari. I can feel Lía’s judgement radiate down the bond, but it isn’t aimed at her friend, it’s aimed at me.

“Don’t pretend you aren’t exactly like her.” She gripes and a grin pulls at my lips. She’s right. I am. I pull my legs free, sliding down Lía’s foreleg. The gryphon makes an aborted step forward, but any illusions its under as to who’s in control here are shattered instantly the minute Sgaeyl snaps her teeth in its face. She’s incredibly protective…when she feels like it.

My eyes run over the infantry captain’s form—I’m finally able to take him in up close and…wow. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a more beautiful example of the male specimen in my life. Holy gods.

He’s wearing the standard dark-blue uniform of the infantry, though I can see some armour peeking out from beneath it that isn’t standard issue. That’s not too out of place though, the more wealthy infantry officers all invest in armour the minute they graduate, if not before. It complements the twin swords peeking over his shoulders, doing nothing to dissuade me of his experience in battle.

He’s tall, tall enough that I’d almost fit beneath his chin…not that I’m thinking about it or anything…and his tawny skin looks radiant in the sunlight. His windblown hair is also decidedly not regulation and in an effort to keep myself from staring at his well-muscled form, I meet his eyes. Beautiful gold-flecked onyx eyes. That does not help.

“You are so pathetic.” Sgaeyl says and I know without having to turn that the slapping sound that follows is Lía’s tail making contact with her side. I can always rely on her to have my back when it comes to feelings and I am…feeling things.

“Wh—”

“We don’t need your help.” The flier to his right snaps and for as long as I live, I’ll blame the adrenaline of battle for what happens next. I punch her in the face.

“Remi!” Lía chides immediately, lodging her teeth in the back of my leathers, dragging me forcibly away from the very upset looking gryphon.

“If it weren’t for us, you’d be dead.” I seethe. “And I mean that both specifically and in general.” As if their puny little birds could have taken down a single wyvern—what a joke. She stumbles back, holding a hand to her face and the look she levels on me, well…it’s a good thing looks can’t kill. Sgaeyl chuffs out a laugh.

She opens her mouth, no doubt to say something scathing, but the infantry captain shoots her a fierce glare that stops her in her tracks, which is…strange, because they definitely shouldn’t know each other.

“Thank you. For your assistance.” He offers Sgaeyl a respectful nod, not making eye contact, before his gaze settles on me. “Remi Sorrengail.” He smirks. “I was wondering when I’d get the chance to meet you.”

I am not ashamed to admit that smirk does something to me. My lips part in surprise. “You…” I suppose there’s not much to say—of course he knows who I am. Everyone in Navarre probably knows by now about the Sorrengail twins and how they both bonded two dragons. “Who are you?” I ask instead, my brow furrowing.

He steps closer, a small smile playing on his lips, like I should already know the answer. “Xaden Riorson.” He murmurs.

“Oh.” It leaves my mouth unbidden. “That…makes sense.” Only a duke’s son could get away with flouting the infantry dress code and whatever orders they’d been given to retreat, to avoid the oncoming fight entirely.

“Does it?” He arches a single, perfect brow.

“No.” I reply, deadpan, my eyes darting over to the gryphon flier he clearly knows well. Too well for the Duke of Aretia’s son. Lía snorts, nudging my back with her nose.

“We need to go.” Sgaeyl says, her voice tight. “Your presence is required.” Someone needs mending, is what she means.

“Ok.” I sigh reluctantly, glancing over my shoulder at her briefly. I turn back to Xaden Riorson, letting my eyes trail over his face one last time. There’s a diagonal cut bisecting his left eyebrow, blood dripping down his cheek and I step closer into his space, rising up on my toes. Silently, I reach out to cup his jaw, smoothing my thumb over the wound gently. He doesn’t flinch at the sting, heated eyes raking over my features as I mend it carefully, leaving only a silver scar behind.

I drop back down onto my feet, holding his gaze as I back away slowly, ignoring the way the tips of my fingers tingle. I turn, intending to scale Lía’s foreleg gracefully, but I pause, unable to resist taking one final look over my shoulder. Gods, he’s gorgeous. My lips quirk up. “You’d look better in black, Captain.”

#basgiath (remi's version)#but like remi's other version #soulmates in every universe but canon #do i have ideas for a whole fic in this universe? ….yes #the list keeps growing 😭

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i-did-not-mean-to · 4 months

Text

MAY-U - Glorfindel x Erestor

This story has been written for @sortumavaara and is accompanied by chibis made by this amazing artist!

Chibi commissions are open!

Characters: Glorfindel x Erestor

Prompts:Neighbours - Locksmith - If you ask me to beg, I'll beg

Words: 2 110

Warnings: a kiss (and potentially criminal activity)

Glorfindel squinted at the door accusingly.

The very next day, he vowed, he’d finally buy a doorstopper to keep those pesky drafts from accidentally locking him out of his flat when all he’d wanted to do was retrieve his mail.

Of course, it might have been a supremely silly idea to do so in the middle of the night, but—being a busy professional—he tended to these domestic chores whenever the thought struck him.

Unfortunately, even the best, most earnest resolutions in the world wouldn’t unlock his undeniably firmly closed front door now.

He considered calling Elrond, but he suspected that he’d gone through all of the seven spare keys his friend had been squirrelling away for emergencies: one, he’d lost at the mall, the other had fallen down an open manhole, two of them were surely somewhere inside his inaccessible apartment, and he couldn’t remember what happened to the others for the life of him.

Maybe, he mused, one was still in the old, battered car he owned but never drove. That sudden burst of inspiration did not help him much either, as the key to that accursed vehicle was in his bathroom drawer, inside his flat.

Fishing his old, battered flip phone, the little battery in the top right corner flickering alarmingly, out of his pocket, he reviewed his options with as much level-headed rationality as he could muster.

He didn’t doubt for a moment that his friends, annoyed and incredulous as they would undoubtedly be, would offer him food and shelter in his hour of need, but the thought of their faces and sympathetic cooing made his blood run cold.

Blowing a stray strand of golden hair out of his face, Glorfindel sagged against the closed door in dismay.

How did this always happen to him?

He was an accomplished ophthalmologist—respected and cherished by his colleagues and patients alike—and yet, he seemed utterly unable to manage something as fundamental as not leaving his flat without a key.

“Hello there, do you need help?”

Glorfindel shot up, banging his head against the doorknob and yelping loudly.

He’d never heard his mysterious neighbour, occupying the flat at the end of the landing, speak this many words in a row. And they were addressed to him!

“I’ve locked myself out,” he confessed in a tiny voice.

“Again?”

Grimacing, Glorfindel brought his hands to his face to hide from the disapproving gaze of the handsome stranger. If even his neighbour, who’d never granted him more than a sharp nod in passing, had caught on to his shortcomings, what were people in general thinking and saying about him behind his broad, muscular back?

“I could help you with that,” the other went on, callously disregarding Glorfindel’s existential crisis in his unshakeable pragmatism. “But you’d have to pay me the common rate for an emergency locksmith.”

That made Glorfindel look up once more; he’d always been so distracted by the darkly magnetic aura of the furtive, slender man with the impressive glower that he’d never stopped to notice that his clothes, while well-tailored, seemed rather threadbare and had been mended with meticulous skill.

The complex they inhabited was far from cheap to live in, and an ungracious but pervasive thought arose in Glorfindel’s befuddled mind: How could this man afford to pay his rent?

As far as he could tell, the mysterious siren with whom he shared a floor and the occasional lift ride went out at all hours of the night, often only returning after morning light when Glorfindel, rising from another night of bleak insomnia, got ready to go to work himself.

“Are you a locksmith?” he asked suspiciously.

“Something of the sort,” the smirking man gave back with a nervous shrug. “I can open your door, right now, isn’t that what matters?”

Glorfindel hesitated for a moment. “What’s your name?”

“Erestor, but don’t worry, there won’t be an official bill.”

The unshakeable sensation of doing something wicked and reprehensible overcame Glorfindel, but he nodded solemnly. “Very well, Erestor. I shall pay you…and I’d like to invite you to stay over for dinner sometime. As a reparation for the time you’ll lose getting me out of this mess?”

Cocking one eyebrow, Erestor moved down the hallway to retrieve his tools from his own flat. “This won’t take all evening,” he said calmly.

“Maybe…it could?” Glorfindel heard himself say in a voice that sounded considerably more suave and confident than he felt.

As soon as he was alone in the hallway again, Glorfindel pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation; his glasses were in the flat and his head had started pounding with a tension headache five minutes ago.

He truly hoped that Erestor would make good on his promise to overcome the treacherous lock quickly.

"You have to move away from the door," a soft, mocking voice resounded.

Glorfindel’s head snapped up, and when he beheld Erestor once more, his tongue went numb in his mouth—he’d tied up his glossy, dark hair neatly and squatted down before the lock, squinting at it in concentration.

The alluring shape of his behind and the elegant curve of his spine didn’t go unnoticed, and Glorfindel desperately tried to redirect his wandering thoughts to something less incriminating.

“Listen, I’m an ophthalmologist—if I can offer my professional services to you one of these days…”

Looking up from his work, his hands enviably steady, Erestor merely cocked one eyebrow. “My eyes are fine, thank you. There just seems to be a considerable amount of lint and other debris wedged into this lock. Do you ever check your key before ramming it into the keyhole?”

Shamefacedly, Glorfindel had to admit that he did indeed not do such a simple inspection.

“I see,” Erestor mumbled distractedly. “No problem!”

His slender wrists were moving delicately until Glorfindel heard the telltale click echoing through the deserted hallway, and his heart sank.

“There we are,” Erestor declared, provocatively pushing open the door and stepping back.

“Do you…want to come in?” Glorfindel asked, all but stumbling over his words.

To his surprise, Erestor seemed to consider his invitation for a few seconds before shaking his head in what looked strangely akin to dismay and regret. “I must be somewhere else. Another time, maybe!”

Softening that ambiguous rejection of Glorfindel’s clumsy advances with a radiant smile, he strode towards the stairwell, tucking his tools surreptitiously under his arm.

Glorfindel threw his suitcase on the bed—he’d only just come home from a symposium about new laser technologies, and he already yearned to be anywhere other than his deserted, slightly disorganised flat.

For three days, he’d been bathed in the company of his peers. At that moment, he’d found them rather dull and boorish, but he now regretted every ungenerous thought bitterly as the gaping emptiness of his own home seemed to expand like a black hole, ready to suck every last drop of light and happiness out of his soul.

Just as he was about to do something laughably dramatic, though, he heard the loose board outside his front door creak treacherously.

Rushing to the spyhole, he was taken over by a recklessly idiotic idea—so much for having overcome that first impulse of madness!

Before he could give himself a moment to think things over, he strode out the door and looked around as if searching for something, pointedly feigning not to notice Erestor standing just outside his own flat.

“I was sure I’ve left it somewhere around here,” Glorfindel mumbled, his eyes glued to the worn carpet, and suppressed a grin as he heard his door clunk shut. “Oh misery!” he exclaimed. “Locked out again! And it’s the middle of the night!”

“I wouldn’t have thought that eye doctors have to work this late,” Erestor commented dryly, gesturing at the long, white coat Glorfindel was wearing and his uncharacteristically neat, smooth hairdo.

“I’ve only just come home from a medical convention,” Glorfindel explained defensively, as he didn’t want the other to get exactly the right impression of what was happening here.

“And, instead of going to bed and resting, you came out here to search for…” Erestor cocked his head quizzically as if it was entirely normal to have vaguely flirty conversations with one’s neighbours in the middle of the night.

“My bag,” Glorfindel replied, trying his best to look appropriately crestfallen. “My medical bag! It was full of goodies too!”

“As I surmise that you’ve been inside your flat already, I dare say that you’ve retrieved your key from said bag and consequently took it in. Do you need help looking for it?” It was evident in Erestor’s tone that he hadn’t in the least bought Glorfindel’s little subterfuge. “I could unlock your door again, and tonight, I have no other plans, so I’d gladly take you up on that late-night snack if you’re not too tired.”

Startled, Glorfindel stared at the apparition in worn grey overalls—had he ever found sturdy work garb to be this attractive before?—partially obscuring a clean, orange button-down until he was sure that his eyes were positively bulging out of his skull.

“Or did you change your mind in the meantime?”

At once, Glorfindel shook his head vehemently, carelessly unravelling his uncharacteristically tidy bun. “By all means, unlock my door and come in!”

All fatigue seemed to have drained out of his system, and he was shifting from one foot to the other impatiently, overjoyed at the prospect of observing those nimble fingers at work again.

Erestor smiled, tapping his skilful fingers against his toolbox playfully, and waited patiently.

“If you want me to beg, I’ll beg,” Glorfindel murmured, suddenly struck with how profoundly unreasonable his whole ploy had been. “I just want to get back into my flat…now more than ever!”

With a breathy peal of laughter, the unorthodox locksmith bent to his task, humming happily under his breath at the sight of the flustered doctor hovering above him.

As soon as the door swung open with a protesting groan, Erestor burst into laughter. “Your pesky bag seems to have hidden in plain sight! It’s right there, in the middle of the foyer, glaring at us!”

Ducking his head in shame at being found out, Glorfindel slunk in and threw an exasperated look into his clean but empty kitchen—he’d not been home, and he knew his fridge to be woefully empty.

“Can I maybe tempt you with delivery food? I’m afraid I don’t have anything edible in the house,” he confessed, avoiding Erestor’s amused gaze.

“Aren’t you a doctor?”

“I’m an eye doctor,” Glorfindel laughed. “And pizza is food for the soul!”

That was a statement with which even Erestor, contrary by nature, couldn’t disagree, so he followed his distracted host into a slightly cluttered living room where he simply halted.

“You may sit,” Glorfindel invited, hoping that he could at least unearth something to drink from the depths of his refrigerator.

“I’m dirty,” Erestor replied.

“Take the overalls off!” Moving towards the kitchen slowly while also refusing to take his eyes off his guest in case he took him by his word, Glorfindel wracked his brain for something smart and charming to say. “Do you also come from work?”

“Something of that kind, yes,” Erestor grinned. The sound of the fastenings of his protective garment coming undone echoed through the tense silence between them, and Glorfindel swallowed thickly.

The need for a beverage was both eclipsed and exacerbated by the revelation of Erestor’s maddeningly form-fitting trousers and impossibly unwrinkled shirt, leaving Glorfindel hovering on the threshold of the kitchen indecisively.

“Are these yours?” Erestor asked with a hint of sharp interest in his voice as he held up a pair of lightweight glasses that had been threatening to slip off the coffee table.

“Hmmm,” humming his embarrassed assent, Glorfindel decided that the refreshments could wait a little longer.

“Very sexy! Put them on for me,” Erestor demanded, getting to his feet and padding over like a sleek predator on the prowl. “I do want you to have all your senses about you when I name my price for my second rescue mission!”

“I thought I’d pay for dinner,” Glorfindel said somewhat sheepishly as he took his glasses and slid them onto his face; Erestor’s impish expression—his twinkling eyes and the tiny wrinkles around his smirking mouth—came into sudden focus.

Before he could dispel the suffocating mist of confusion and desire pervading the room, Glorfindel felt a strong, slightly calloused hand wrap around the back of his neck, and then, warm, soft lips brushed across his own.

“That too,” Erestor smiled. “Later. Much later!”

↬ Masterlist

Thank you so much for joining me on this new adventure.

@fellowshipofthefics here's the last one for May!

Lots of love from me!

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jaidens · 1 year

Note

Young Maverick Mitchell x reader fic where he falls in love with the admiral's daughter but they're forced to break up. They secretly get back together on the end

i'm the one on the phone as you whisper "do you know how much I miss you?"

pairing [s] : pete ‘maverick’ mitchell x reader

warning [s] : mentions of : hookups, kissing |

a/n [s] : ty the request! [requests are open]

The young Pete Mitchell was known for his rebellious ego and his daring maneuvers in the cockpit of his F-14. However, his most daring adventure was going to be on the solid ground of the Earth. With his ideals, he would take a challenge if it would kill him in the end, but he lived through the adrenaline.

He had met her at the military gala of 1986. They locked eyes across the marble floors. Pete was in his best whites, pressed and pins showing his absolute elegance across his chest. You're absolutely beautiful and Maverick’s fiery eyes pull you in deliciously. He was like a magnet and you were the opposite pole, and he was stuck to you.

You and his relationship were hidden from the public view, only blossoming behind closed doors and small closets around the base. Admiral Williams, Y/N’s father and Mavericks superior, shadowed over the relationship unknowingly. You had been told that dating a pilot was a dangerous business, and his anger would be if he found out you had been with one.

One day, the secret was out.

It was nine in the morning, the sun was pooling through the windows and into your room. Pete is laying in your bed, naked and sun-kissed. You're wrapped up in the sheets with him, tucked into his arms. You hate the sun in the morning for waking you up from the feeling of him.

“Oh, shit!” You jump up, grabbing your underwear from the ground and your clothes. While you're tugging them on, you hear a knock and a cough. Pete is utterly confused, one eyebrow raised as he wakes up from the events before. “Pete! Get up! My dad is coming over today, in like.. now!”

That gets him up and rising, trying to pull his jeans on and close the belt as he trips while shoving his legs in. Pete is trying to fix his hair while it's crazy, spikey on the top. In a second, your father is standing in the doorway as he opens his mouth, he shuts it. Pete turns his head at you, gives you a small ‘I’m sorry’ smile, then to his superior.

“Dad, listen, I can expla—” You say, holding your hands up. Your father shakes his head and holds his hand up.

“No, Y/N, go down stairs honey. Maverick, get dressed and I'll see you down there.” His words feel like a dangerous poison, and the venom seeps into your veins as you shamefully walk downstairs. You're young, eighteen years old, and still growing up. Pete is the same age, having just joined the Navy a year ago. The playing around is almost customary for two young adults still trying to find themselves. Hopefully your dad will understand that.

As you sit downstairs in a fluffy blanket pulled up your chest, flipping through the magazine that was on the coffee table. Your dad walks down stairs, rubbing a bent hand against his chin as he looks at you disappointedly. “Y/N, come here, sit at the bar.” You begrudgingly stand up and walk to the bar as your father makes breakfast. You're staring at the ground and he sets the food in front of you.

“Y/N. That boy is trouble. That's all he is. If you mess around with him, your reputation will get ruined.” Your father's words don't make it past your angst, as you chew into your food. “Are you listening to me?” Pete emerges from the stairwell, fully dressed with his bomber jacket on.

“Maverick. Sit down.” Your father's words aren't calmer than they were with you, they're angry. At either you, him, or most likely the both of you. “I don't care how long this has been going on. However, me and my daughters reputation will not be ruined by your behavior. I will see that you will stay away from her. I don't want to see you around the base, or even close to her.”

You go to retaliate but your father shushes you and Maverick looks down on embarrassment. “Which, means you will stop seeing my daughter. So, pack your stuff and leave, Maverick. I will see you tomorrow on base.” Your protests are ignored as Pete puts his boots on and starts walking towards the door, leaves the house, and shuts it close behind him.

You stand up and run after Maverick as you hear his bike rev up. “Pete!” You yell as you run out the door and for him. His head turned to yours, a small frown etched on his mouth. You make it to him and he wraps you in his arms. “I’m so sorry, Pete, I'm so sorry.” You're kissing him while he holds you. The kiss is different from the hundreds you've shared: it's long and you can't get enough of it.

“I have to go, don't you forget me.” Pete tells you, giving you a small kiss on the forehead before he revs up his bike one last time. “I love you, so much.” He says, kissing you before he rides away and leaves you.

You curse your father for making him leave, you curse your life, you curse everything.

You find him again.

You're sipping on a non-alcoholic Shirley Temple in the corner of the music hall. The live orchestra has your attention captured. Within a second, you see him talking with Goose and those bubbly feelings from when you were eighteen begin to appear. Suddenly, your feet are dragging you to the handsome pilot who drinks from a clear glass.

“Oh, Pete.” Is all you say as wrap yourself up in his arms. It's dangerous knowing your father is just on the other side of the room. But isn't that how it all started in the first place?

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kakarotcake · 1 year

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In honor of Gochi Day, have this post-Buu saga fluffy oneshot I wrote of Chi Chi and Goku returning to their domestic life 😊 I wrote it last year, but I didn't have this account in May sooo I get a freebie.

C/W: Light sexual themes, nothing explicit.

Peace returning to the Earth never meant that Son Goku would stop training.

There were always going to be limits to push, and new heights to reach. Fighting was one of the things in the world that brought the Saiyan the most happiness, be it against someone who was trying to destroy his home planet or against someone who merely wanted a friendly spar, and he couldn’t picture a realistic scenario where he would give it up.

For now until he felt he made substantial progress, Goku focused on working more with his Super Saiyan 3 transformation. The series of events that transpired because of the now-fallen Babidi and what eventually became Evil Buu allowed him to fully grasp that he hasn’t mastered it yet, so dedicating time and effort was a must. It took him several years to achieve the form in Other World, and if it took him several more years to get its rate of energy consumption slowed down, then so be it.

Today, he would try to maintain Super Saiyan 3 for as long as he could, even if the fatigue made him pass out later. Standing outside of his home on the expansive Mount Paozu, Goku stood meters away in a clearing, gritting his teeth and clenching his fists as a golden aura surged around him. Long hair of a similar color whipped about as the martial artist sparred with an imaginary opponent, repeatedly throwing punches and kicks in a rhythmic fashion that carried enough strength to level a mountain many times over. This carried on well until some hours later as the sun set, and Goku was left being extremely drained.

Sweat dribbled down his forehead in a miniature stream as he took a moment to breathe, feeling all of the nerves in his body burn with a searing pain. That wasn’t anything he’s never dealt with before, but weariness was beginning to set in and set in harshly. Figuring that was enough for now, the Saiyan stood up from his seated position on the grass, and walked back to his home with the intention of getting a nice bath set up over a fire to cleanse his body. A brush of his hand through the transformation’s long golden locks to clear his face only caused an awful lot of moisture to set on his skin, and Goku looked down at the sweat coating his hand with a grimace. Alongside bathing, he should definitely try to wash his mane of hair as well. He had forgotten that it tended to act like a giant sponge.

He went to work setting up one of their large bathing tubs, easily picking it up and filling it with the clean water from their home’s nearby river. Next, Goku started a fire and placed the barrel on top. He had a lot of time to kill before the water would be warm enough, but first, he did need to get the things he needed to bathe and dry himself afterwards.

Past his own stench, his nose picked up a delectable smell wafting from his mountain home, and it acted like a magnet. Goku opened the backdoor to the kitchen and stepped inside. He was greeted by the sight of his wife standing before their oven, that was covered in an assortment of occupied cookware.

“Goku?” Chi Chi looked over her shoulder from flipping a slab of meat in a frying pan, eyes widening at the sight of him. Particularly, how his face appeared in Super Saiyan 3. He knew she was still getting used to it.

“Did you finish training for today?”

“Mostly.” A soft smile unconsciously appeared on his face, which tended to happen whenever he saw her. He closed the door behind him, remembering that she hated it being left open.

“Why do you still…look like that then? Are you going to change back?”

“Not right now. Part of the training is staying in this form as long as I can, so my body will get more used to it. Remember how I did the same thing as a normal Super Saiyan?”

“…Yes, a little…” Properly turning towards him, she crossed her arms and had a frown pulling the corners of her lips down.

“What? You don’t like it?”

“I much prefer how you normally look, Goku. The “no eyebrows” thing keeps throwing me off.”

His initial response was to chuckle in amusement, and step closer to her. Whatever guard she had quickly melted, he noticed, as her features softened – especially when he wrapped an arm around her waist.

“I’ll change back before bed. Don’t want my freaky face to spook you.”

“It’s not freaky.” Chi Chi scoffed, laying a hand on his chest. “Just…very different. Not THAT big of a deal.”

“Well…thanks for understanding.”

Goku leaned down to lay a kiss on the bridge of her nose, immediately causing a blush to darken her fair skin. Her soured expression was completely gone now, replaced by a giddy smile. She looked so cute that he couldn’t resist giving her another kiss, this one further down her nose, though there was gratitude present in it as well.

Ever since his identity as a Saiyan came to light years ago, both for him and her, it changed a lot of things. For one, even though she was still adamant on Gohan keeping to his studies, she was far more understanding of why exactly he loved to fight so much. To push his limits and continue growing stronger. That first night he spent in the hospital after his battle with Vegeta was the first time they were together again in over a year, and they had a serious conversation over what’s occurred in their lives during the period; including Gohan’s.

It was all so long ago that he couldn’t remember every single thing they discussed, but one thing he vividly did is that Chi Chi made it clear he was still her husband. She still loved him, even with he belonging to a race of aliens that brought nothing but suffering to their planet back then. Loving combat was in his blood, and she would be a terrible wife to refuse accepting him for who he was.

That night lead such a deeper, intimate understanding to form between them that he felt even closer to her than he did previously. That remained true years later, to today.

“Of course.” She responded with a gentler tone, playing with a strand of his golden hair.

“Dinner will be ready soon. Gohan and Goten should be back from the arcade before then.”

That’s right; Goten did want to go to one. He knew Gohan wasn’t the type to play video games or the like, but he couldn’t turn down chaperoning his little brother.

“Sounds good. I’ll take a bath in the meantime.”

“You should.” She poked him halfheartedly. “The stink of your sweat is almost overwhelming.”

“Yeah…but I bet part of you likes it, huh?”

He grinned at her shocked look, and the deepening of her blush. It wasn’t as if their bodies have never been pressed together like this, with he being sweaty…

Goku walked away before she could retaliate for his tease, grabbing the items he needed then going back outside. He laid his towel and washcloth over the rim of the tub and did a few stretches while the water continued to warm. When it was at a suitable temperature, he stripped off his clothing and quickly hopped in.

Immediately, the Saiyan breathed a sigh of relief as he felt the soreness in his muscles being soothed. He sat there for some minutes, enjoying the warmth before he started to bathe. Foamy soap was spread over his skin and filled the water as he scrubbed himself, but he was soon presented with what would be the most daunting task in the moment. Goku grabbed a handful of his hair, grunting in slight vexation as he used his free hand to reach for the shampoo bottle. If he had to deal with this regularly, then maybe he could afford to spend a little less time maintaining Super Saiyan 3…

He paused when he heard a door open and close, detecting a familiar ki source approaching him.

“Chi?” Goku looked over towards his wife, seeing she lay her hands on the rim of the tub.

“Need some help, dear?” There was a giggling undertone to her voice, and he felt her grab a portion of his locks.

“I’d hate for you to deal with this lion’s mane all on your own.”

“I was just wondering how I’d manage it.” Goku admitted, shrugging. “Can you wash it for me?”

“I’d be happy to.”

He gladly sat back and relaxed, dampening his hair while Chi Chi took the bottle and squeezed a handful of shampoo into her palm. Pleasure shot from his head down his spine in tingles when she started working it in, rubbing his scalp and spreading the foam around until his head was almost entirely enveloped in it.

“Oh my, it’s like there’s even more than I thought. Why does this form of yours give you such long hair anyway?”

“I don’t know. It just…does.” He never thought about that, actually. Then again, he wasn’t sure why he also lost his eyebrows in 3, or why Super Saiyan in general made his hair turn gold either.

“Just another Saiyan mystery, hm? At least it’s soft and fluffy.”

He couldn’t see her face, but he could picture the amused look she had. With her presence, how good the warm water felt, and his still-existing fatigue, Goku felt so at ease that his eyelids suddenly were like weights. They involuntarily began drooping, and he didn’t put up much effort into keeping them open.

He missed this. Their family had already started going back to a new normal after Buu, but there was still no ignoring how there was a strong sense of yearning that persisted in his heart. Being deprived of this for 7 years, a decision he did choose to make though now questioned if his earlier belief in it keeping his family safe ended up making a difference in the end, was something he never wanted to go through again.

To put his sons through again. To put her through, again.

“I’m so happy you’re back, Goku…”

Like she sensed his thoughts, Chi Chi verbally acknowledged the atmosphere. Her voice cracked some, and he raised an arm from the water to hold one of her hands that currently rested on his chest.

“Me too. And, I’m not leaving. Never again.”

She returned the action, lacing her fingers with his. Another break of silence passed, but neither of them needed to say anything else. Chi Chi resumed lathering his golden mane, while her husband quietly relished in the feel of her ki. When she was done, he rinsed it by briefly dunking his head underwater, and stood up to get out of the tub.

Standing before Chi Chi, the blushing woman took his towel and dried his hair to the best of her ability, getting onto the tips of her toes some to lovingly press her forehead against his and brush their noses together.

“You know…this Super Saiyan 3 isn’t so bad. You’re still as handsome as ever.”

As always, she reminding him how attractive she found him caused Goku to beam.

“In that case, do you want me to come to bed like this?”

“Sure. I wouldn’t mind.”

The undertones of her singsong claim sparked a special kind of heat deep within him, but in a manner awfully similar to how he teased her earlier, she promptly left the towel hanging awkwardly over his head and walked back towards the house. He intently watched how she lightly – and purposefully – swung her hips back and forth.

“Go ahead and finish drying off, then get dressed. I’ll start setting the table.”

Though they were far, he sensed Gohan and Goten’s ki signatures coming closer at a speed that suggested they were probably riding on Nimbus. The little cloud wasn’t nearly as fast as them flying themselves, but it was fast enough that they would get here before he could try to get back at his other half and keep up this game. Darn.

Oh well. There was always tonight, and he wasn’t so tired that he would crash right away. With that in mind, Goku patted himself dry, smirking at the bedroom antics possible to be had after dinner and when their sons went to sleep.

There was a lot of lost time to make up for...

#suggestive #gochi #dragon ball fanfiction #my fics #( i should state that goku & chi chi here aren't reallyyyyy characterized how they are in canon? )#( because canon does them dirty a lot. so i have my own personal takes of them )

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top-tier-tickles · 1 year

Text

Dark Deception Tickle AU

Finally chapter 6! I hope you all enjoy!

______________________________________

Chapter 6: Part 1

"We're halfway there, love. Don't disappoint me now." Bierce's tone was different this time. It was like she couldn't believe he had made it this far.

The sixth portal was open, the lock replaced with an image of someone that looked like they had a square head? With a plus sign on the front. Doug stepped through, walking up to a barred gate in the middle of the path.

"We need to get that soul shard to get the gate open. Naturally, it's behind those bars." Bierce said, "Well, if we can't get to the shard, we'll make it come to us. Go to the ring altar."

Doug activated the altar, opening up his tablet. "I just need to make a few changes to your brain. Don't worry, if you starting feeling dizzy, or you start to smell colors, just take a deep breath. If it doesn't stop, then quit whining and get used to it! I'm movie star, not a brain surgeon!" She scolded.

Doug rolled his eyes, the new power icon was a magnet, "Telekinesis". He had gotten used to the tingling sensation by now, it only made him shiver. Maybe that means he won't get it as bad if he got caught.

He returned to the gate, activating the ability, a wave of energy blasted some way out before retreating back to Doug, taking the ring piece with it.

That will certainly come in handy.

The gate was gone, opening up the rest of the way. Doug entered the second portal, and was transported to a small, walled-off parking lot.

The lot was full of ambulances, all parked in front of an entrance to a building that Doug guessed was a hospital, the hot-pink neon sign on top gave that away. Strange, in all the hospitals Doug had seen, none of them ever had a sign like that.

"A hospital? Well, everyone has to face their demons at some point. Maybe thus place could help you." Bierce said.

Great. Doug never liked hospitals.

The automatic doors opened, welcoming Doug's arrival, and he froze where he stood upon looking into the lobby.

'Oh. My. God.' He thought.

The lobby was dark, bright, neon LEDs being the only light. Loud music blasted through the room. Groups of chairs surrounded the area. A giant statue of a woman holding a heart was in the center. Two women stood on the platform, dancing in a rather- provocative manner.

Their outfits made them look like...nurses? Their tight-fitting dresses had a pink-and-red color scheme, the neck cut low, and pink fluff stitched onto it. But their heads were all covered with medical bags, adorned with a heart shape on the front, little red caps atop their heads.

What kind of place is this? It was much less of a hospital, and more like some seedy strip club.

Some nurses stood by the chairs, staring straight ahead. Said chairs were occupied by...Gold Watchers?! Oh, great!

Doug walked up to one of them, gently knocking on their head, as if he was knocking on a door, before flipping them off and walking away. He thought he heard some quiet laughter from behind him, but he couldn't tell if they were laughing at him, or their insulted ally.

Doug continued walking towards a desk at the end of the room, a sign read "Reception" above it. He could hear a nurse speaking to someone on the phone as he approached.

"Mmm-hmm. No problem. Bierce? Oh, I see. How troublesome. Yep, we can handle that!" Her voice was peppy, with a New York accent, "Absolutely! Leave it to us Reaper Nurses! You don't gotta worry about a thing!"

Doug stood at the desk, staying silent as she spoke. It seemed she noticed his presence, but he couldn't tell, as her face was covered.

"Wel, speak of the devil! Looks like he just walked in. Ohh, and he's a looker too! I'll get back to ya shortly, mkay? Buh-bye, now!" She leaned forward and hung up the phone.

Sitting back, she finally spoke to Doug, "Greetings and welcome to this place of healing and mercy! Mind if I take a closer look at you?" She asked.

She looked him up and down, Doug staying silent the whole time.

"Oh my, you poor thing. I see that life has not been kind to you. You still carry around so much of that pain. It must weigh terribly on you"

'You can say that again' Doug thought.

"And now you're serving the deal-breaker. How curious. Are you not aware that she only offers lies? Lord Malak can give you so much more, all you have to do is return what you have taken from him." The Reaper Nurse said, "But we'll get to that later. You did the right thing coming to see us."

Doug raised an eyebrow.

"You don't need to suffer anymore. We can heal your soul. We can offer you the beauty that you desire. All you have to do is be ready and willing to accept out mercy. Are you ready to become one of our new patients?" She suddenly giggled, "What am I saying? Of course you do! How silly of me!"

The nurse hopped off of her chair, gliding over to the edge of the counter, next to the entrance of a corridor.

"First things first, though. We need to check your vitals, the deal-breaker may have infected your body and mind, as well as your soul. After all, Lord Malak's infinite power was never meant for mere mortals. You've been using them quite recklessly. There may be dire consequences for your health. Please, follow me."

The Reaper Nurse turned, and began going through the hall, Doug following behind.

"I don't know what she's talking about. But she's got a bag on her head. That's a bit of a red flag, isn't it?" Bierce said.

The nurse practically floated through the hall, even turning back to face Doug, going backwards. Through another set of doors, the two of them passed through a hall with large windows, other nurses slowly dancing in front of hospital beds.

"See anything you like?" The nurse asked. No, no he didn't.

"That's disturbing. Though I do like their shoes." Bierce said. The comment made Doug glance a the nurse's shoes, or rather skates. Hot pink roller skates. Damn, that meant they were probably fast.

The nurse suddenly resumed her skating, leading him throught the doors before slowing to a stop.

"Right in here." She gestured to another door. Doug walking through, the Reaper Nurse following behind. There was a rather large scale in the middle of the room, other than that, it was completely empty. The nurse picked up a clipboard hanging from the wall, and rolled next to the scale.

"Let's check your weight first, shall we? Once you are ready to accept our mercy, please step up onto the scale." She clicked a pen, waiting patiently for Doug to comply.

"Are you sure you want to stand on it?" Bierce asked.

Doug eyed the scale, his suspicion growing. Why was he not dead yet? Were they toying with him? Or were they actually going to spare him if he didn't struggle? Against hus better judgement, he stepped up. And heard a click.

Doug quickly jumped off as a flame spit out from the ceiling. What the hell?! He stood there with his mouth agape, completely silent.

"What? Is something wrong? Oho, my apologies! Must be a malfunction. Don't worry, I'll put in a work order to get that fixed." She laughed.

"Though, at the very least I need to examine your torso. Please, hold still."

She slowly approached Doug, holding her hands out, and because of that, she gave him a clear view of her gloves.

Pink, fuzzy feather pads were stitched onto the palm and fingers of her glove.

Placing her hands right on the spot in between his armpits and the top set of his ribs, sliding her hands down his sides, seemingly looking for any abnormalities.

Doug flinched, trying to step back, only to press himself into the wall, cornered by the nurse.

"Sir, I have to ask ya to please hold still." She said, moving her hands to his stomach, squishing it. Doug slapped his hands over his mouth as his eyes widened.

"Is something wrong?"

Doug somehow found the strength to speak without cackling, "T-Tihihihihicklish!", was all he could muster though.

"Ohh! I see! You're ticklish. Well, we'll make sure to be extra careful with ya then!" The nurse rolled back and out the door, beckoning Doug to follow.

He did, only making it a few feet down the hall before she stopped again.

"Okay! Next up, we need to do some lab work." She opened the next door to a circular room, tiny little holes lined the walls, with a big red circle in the center. "I just need to take a small blood sample. You're not afraid of needles are ya?"

Doug didn't answer.

"Okay, great. Stat right there and don't move. Wait until on timer reaches zero. I'll be right outside the door~!" She left.

The timer began to beep down, 15 seconds.

"I don't know of its just me, I don't think you'd want to still be in this room when that timer reached zero. Find a way out of there!" Bierce commanded.

Doug immediately ran to the door, only to find it was locked from the outside. Furiously picking the lock as the timer ticked down its last seconds, the door burst open, freeing the lawyer.

As soon as the door shut behind him, hundreds of thin needles jutted out from the holes in the walls, thier points all stabbing into where Doug would have been.

"Didn't I say not to move?" The nurse asked, and annoyed tone in her voice, "So you are afraid of needles. Noted!"

She paused, putting her hands on her hips, "Let me remind you that we do not have time to play games with out patients. Please take this more seriously if you wish to be saved."

The Reaper Nurse started rolling away, Doug following behind. There further he was from that medical iron maiden, the better.

They passed through the hall more, stopping in front of another door.

"How about a chest x-ray? You scared of those too?" The nurse asked with a condescending tone in her voice. She lead Doug through the door, a large MRI machine sat in it.

"Let's try this again, stay right there, and this time don't move! It's your last chance...Wait until the timer reaches zero. Ill be right outside!"

She left, and immediately after, a speed barrier was set right in front of the door. Doug acted quickly, activating speed boost and busting down the barrier, he picked the lock fast and raced further down the hall.

"Hey! Get back here! I still have more tests to run!" The nurse sped towards him, and he picked the lock on the double door to his escape.

"Sir, this is unacceptable! We will not accept unruly patients!"

Doug broke through right in time, slamming the door straight into her covered face.

"Oh, what a shame. It seems you've been infected by that woman after all. You do not desire salvation! You're just another vile man after all, chaotic and infectious, like a virus! Very well, we know how to deal with viruses. If eradication is your desire, we shall grant it. It might be comforting to tell you that your death would be quick and painless, but that would be a lie. After all, we can get carried away while performing our duties! But one things for sure though....You'll never see it comin'!" Her body seemed to dissipate away as she finished talking.

"They can cloak? That's going to be troublesome..." Bierce said, "So Malak's minions aren't very fond of you. Shocking, I know..."

Doug continued down the hall, entering an elevator. The tablet said the next floor down was where the soul shards were, so that's where he would go. As soon as the elevator stopped, a voice came over the intercom.

"Ladies! The hospital is now on complete lockdown! It seems we have an unruly patient on the loose that must be dealt with! Lethal mercy is authorized!"

______________________________________

END OF CHAPTER 6: PART 1

Chp. 1-1, Chp. 1-2, Chp. 2-1, Chp. 2-2, Chp. 2-3, Chp. 2-4, Chp. 3-1, Chp. 3-2, Chp. 3-3, Chp. 4-1, Chp. 4-2, Chp. 5-1, Chp. 5-2, Chp. 5-3, Chp. 6-1, Chp. 6-2, Chp.6-3,

#dark deception #dark deception au #dark deception tickle #dark deception tickle au #reaper nurse

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zak-osullifan · 20 days

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Laws of magnetism

Zak O'Sullivan (F2) x Pepe Marti (F2)

University AU; Student Pepe; TA Zak; As per my experience in uni, the professor is irresponsibly absent and leaves his entire workload on poor Zak; Pepe of course does not mind this at all;

Warnings/notes: Smut, unprotected sex Word count: 3 373

The 7:30 Physics lecture is shaping up to be a problem for Pepe. Not because he has trouble with the subject itself, per se - Pepe has always excelled at Physics before, and the university course is challenging, yes, but nothing he can’t manage. And while the early hour is not ideal, his issue is… different. Tall. Young. English. Named Zak O’Sullivan, PhD candidate, TA to the professor Pepe honestly can’t even name as they didn’t even deign to show up to any of the lectures thus far.

Not even they want to be awake dealing with physics at the crack of dawn, thinks Pepe, as he takes his seat on the second row of the auditorium, close enough to have a good view of his TA - his handwriting is too small, really, no way I could see it from all the way in the back, he rationalizes. It is decidedly not so he can stare at said TA’s toned forearms when he loses his blazer and rolls the sleeves of his pristine button-up to his elbows sometime mid-lecture. Really. It’s all in the name of education.

If Christian could hear this chain of thought, he would smack the Spaniard right over his head with his unnecessarily heavy, overpriced textbook. Luckily for Pepe, and even more luckily for his best friend, Christian is a Contemporary Literature major who doesn’t need to take Physics, much less be awake at this ungodly hour. So as Christian is likely still luxuriating in bed, he and seven other poor unfortunate souls take their spots in the dimly lit auditorium, powered by triple-shot espressos and, in Pepe’s case, a bravely concealed, wildly inappropriate crush.

But if you ask him, well, he’s doing it all for the love of optics. Clearly, nothing more. (Optics strictly in the academic sense and decidedly in no conjunction with his stupidly handsome TA’s glasses. Thank you very much.)

As if summoned straight from Pepe’s less-than-appropriate dreams, Mr. O’Sullivan walks in, dark hair disheveled as if he’d just ran his fingers through it (as he was wont to do, Pepe had observed during their previous lectures), sticking out at odd angles here and there, a stark contrast to his generally put together appearance, all immaculately ironed shirts and spotless dark shoes. Oh, to be able to mess up those dark locks of his, or crinkle the tidy collar of that shirt as he pulled the young TA into a kiss-

Right, maybe it would be best not to entertain those thoughts right now when there are still lensmaker's equations to go through. Pepe flips his notebook open, clicks his pen on, and focuses bravely for a whole fifteen minutes before Mr. O’Sullivan turns to the white board, and the sight of the muscles tensing on his broad back sends Pepe straight back to those quite unhelpful daydreams.

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Optics, as it turns out, do not love Pepe back. Go figure. And he tried so hard too - granted, for approximately ten to twenty minutes each lecture - but the numbers added up if you considered he hadn’t missed a single lecture from the start of the semester, rain or shine. Trying to make up for his inattentiveness later in the relative solitude of the library unfortunately turned out to be a lost cause too, all the terms from his textbook resounding in his head in the distinct gentle tone of his TA, his voice leading Pepe astray even in his absence. Unfortunate, unfair and unhelpful. It comes as no surprise, then, that his assignment is returned to him marked in so much red ink, the words “See me after class” glaring at him from the top of the page, the young lecturer giving him a pointed look before moving on to hand out the rest of the assignments. Dejected and embarrassed with his poor work as he was, Pepe still files that look in his mental “Unfairly Hot TA material for PRIVATE USE ONLY” folder. He is, after all, only a man.

The conversation goes surprisingly well, all things considered. Pepe’s heartbeat only picks up a normal amount at the beginning, when he hangs back by the professor’s desk, waiting for his fellow students to file out of the auditorium, trying not to stare at the object of his daydreams too much, as to be as inconspicuous as possible, only to be startled by Mr. O’Sullivan’s soft voice.

“Mr. Marti, do you mind walking with me to my office? There is another lecture in this room right after ours, and there is quite a bit to discuss about your paper. That is, unless you also have other classes now?”

His office. Right. That’s where all the wildly inappropriate things always happen in the movies of the adult variety Pepe most certainly hasn’t been watching because of the man who currently had him fixed with his unfairly beautiful eyes. He only stutters a little as he replies, a little too fast.

“O-oh no I’m free, my only other class today is late in the afternoon.”

“Perfect. This way, then,” he says, flashing a smile that threatens to have Pepe weak at the knees. He miraculously manages not to trip over his legs during the short walk to the office. Small victories.

He does have to think of Carl Friedrich Gauss and his stupid little hat when the door closes behind him, though, to cling on to some semblance of self control, as he watches his TA take a seat behind his overflowing desk.

“Please, take a seat. And if you could take out your assignment, that would be great.”

Right. Pepe had been standing, staring awestruck by the door. He kicks the back of the desks as he seats himself on one of the chairs pushed against it, fumbling through his bag for the paper.

“As you can probably tell, the assignment is… not quite what it should be. I can see you have a pretty good grasp of the basics of the subject, but the finer details aren’t quite there. Now, I understand this is one of the most challenging courses in the field, and it probably doesn’t help that professor Philippe isn’t available most of the time so you’re stuck with me…”

Pepe wouldn’t use the verb stuck, per se. More like blessed, maybe. Pepe is hoping the warmth he feels creep up on his cheeks isn’t quite so noticeable in the dim lighting of the room.

“...but having a good grasp of the material is fundamental for your courses in the following semesters…”

Right. His degree. The thing he needs to excel at if he is to have any chance of making it into F1 as an engineer. Might be good to focus right about now.

“So it would be best to put in the effort to iron out these minor hiccoughs right at the beginning. A tutor, maybe…” A thought that did cross Pepe’s mind, briefly, but he couldn’t really afford one at this moment. “... or, barring that, I have office hours every Monday and Wednesday. You could try one or the other, see which suits you best. Again, so you don’t fall too behind. Trust me, it will come back to haunt you later.”

Not much of a choice, really. Not for Pepe, at the very least. He thanks his TA, promises to try harder, and is out of the door in an instance before he has a chance to make a fool of himself.

He does come back, though, Wednesday at 9 sharp. He is quite keen on doing better (he is even more keen on spending one-on-one time with his handsome TA, but he won’t confess to that out loud).

And, in all fairness, in the privacy of the office, with Mr. O’- Zak, as he insists he calls him now -Zak’s undivided attention, he finds himself daydreaming less and focusing more, and Optics start loving him back. There’s less and less red ink on his assignments now. His midterm grade is spectacular, too. Yet Zak doesn’t bat an eye when he shows up for office hours, though Pepe clearly doesn’t need the extra time anymore, the topics of conversation more and more often shifting away from academia. Zak, he finds out, is a Chelsea fan, though staunch Barcelona fan Pepe can’t seem to hold that against him. Blue is his color. They both share a love of Formula 1, and Pepe absolutely holds Zak’s affection for Williams against him. The team hasn’t even won in his lifetime, probably. He should know better. Unfortunately this doesn’t make his crush any more manageable. It only means that now Pepe’s imagination supplies him with images of Zak cuddling with him on the couch as they watch the Champions League as well as the classic bent-over-the-desk scenarios from way before. Pepe is unsure as to which one is worse for his mental well being.

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Between Physics office hours and his other courses, Pepe doesn’t notice the semester coming to an end. Which means that his time with Zak, too, is at a close. Which means he probably won’t be seeing his handsome TA as much, or possibly, ever again. That is not a comforting thought by any means, and it does make Pepe a little bolder when, after his last lecture, he drops by Zak’s office to brag about his final grade (an impressive 84%, thank you very much), to which Zak just shakes his head and laughs that breathy little laugh of his that Pepe came to love so much.

“I know, Pepe. I graded the test.”

“Man, does professor Philippe do anything for this course?” As thankful Pepe is for the professor’s absence that led to him getting closer to his TA, he still doesn’t appreciate the fact that all the coursework falls on Zak’s young shoulders. He should be at a club, maybe. Smiling at Pepe from across the bar, or better yet, pushing him against the door of a bathroom stall- not now, unhelpful thoughts. “He did write the textbook and collects very handsome royalties from it, or so I’m told. I don’t mind though, it’s good practice. When I’m a professor I’m not planning on slacking quite this much.”

“But you would slack off a little bit. You’ve earned it with your early martyrdom, if anything.”

This earns a full body laugh from Zak, who nearly bends over in half, over his desk, clutching at his stomach.

“I dare say you could slack off even now. Well, maybe not now now, but say, later tonight? I think I owe you at least one drink for not letting Optics kick my ass earlier in the semester.”

“I think you owe me at least two, seeing that I didn’t allow Magnetism to do that, either.”

“Hey. I showed Magnetism who’s boss all on my own, thank you very much”

“Hmm. I’m not entirely convinced, but if you say so.”

Pepe should be offended, because he really did do well all on his own there, but there are other, more pressing matters at hand. Such as. Zak didn’t turn him down. So this might as well be happening. Pepe’s brain almost short circuits then and there.

“Anyway, as I was saying, there’s this place right around the corner from the Linguistics faculty that me and a couple of friends haunt occasionally…”

“Oh, MooMoo. I’m familiar.”

Pepe was pretty sure he hadn’t seen Zak there in the many times he and Christian wound up at the bar for a drink. Or any of the other faculty members, for that matter. He certainly hopes the Brit hasn’t seen him practice his trademark move, the sprinkler, after a few too many drinks. He prays, even, though without clutching at his gold chain necklace. That would be a bit of an overkill.

“Great, so about nine tonight?”

“I’ll see you there, then, Mr. Magnetism.”

“Mock all you may. 84% on the final, mate. Nothing will dampen my mood tonight”

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Pepe had assumed he’d just gotten used to Zak’s charms during all the office hours he spent in his presence. He was, unfortunately, wholly unprepared for seeing Zak in his black button down and dark fitted jeans, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, top few buttons undone, revealing the barest hint of a lovely pale chest Pepe wanted to cover in hickeys. The moody lighting doesn’t help the excitement currently growing in his pants, and neither does the fact that they’re sitting practically shoulder to shoulder so they can hear each other over the music blasting through the loudspeakers.

Pepe concludes that he should have pre-gamed harder, build up some liquid courage. Alas, it is now too late for that. He downs his drink a little too quickly, some of the clear liquid spilling down the side of the glass, trickling over his chin. Zak’s eyes follow the movement. Was Pepe hallucinating, or did his gaze linger on his lips there, too?

“Careful there, mate. Don’t want you kicking the bucket before you build Williams that championship-winning car, yeah?” he laughs, clapping Pepe on his back. His hand definitely lingers on his shoulder, Pepe thinks. “Dream on, mate. Not even I can work that kind of miracle.” “Can’t blame a man for hoping.”

The mood eases a little, then, at least for Pepe. He certainly feels a lot bolder after a couple of drinks, when he rests a large hand on Zak’s thigh, dangerously high. His no longer TA lets it stay there for a moment before shifting his leg, leaning in to mutter in Pepe’s ear. His cologne clouds Pepe’s mind. “I… maybe not here. Faculty doesn’t usually drop by, as far as I’m aware, but still, better be careful.”

Not here. That’s not a decisive no. Pepe’s mind races, but he is determined; he downs his drink in one go, leaning towards Zak in turn. “Come to think of it, I might have some top secret plans for that Williams you might be interested in, back at my dorm. I might even be persuaded to hand them over, that is, if you…”

Is it the lighting in the club, or did Zak’s cheeks get a shade or two darker just now? At any rate, his eyes are… completely dark. A look Pepe knows all too well from all of his professor x student themed visual aids.

“Anything for the team of my heart. Lead the way.”

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“I lied about the plans”

If the way he presses Pepe to the door the moment it closed behind them was any indication, Formula 1 is far away from Zak’s mind at the moment. He barely huffs out a laugh before crashing his lips to the Spaniard’s, cradling his head so it didn’t hit the wood too hard. From the urgency he kisses with, Pepe can tell he’s wanted this for a while too. Probably not as long as him, though. He finally allows himself to run his hands all over the back that threatened to have him fail a class, hands dipping under it to feel bare skin, feverishly hot. Zak pulls back momentarily, a string of saliva connecting their lips, nimble fingers working on the small buttons, revealing an endless expanse of smooth, pale skin Pepe’s itching to map with his tongue. He shakes himself off his reverie, pulling his own shirt over his head and tugging desperately at his belt.

He almost pulls Zak down on his bed when his eyes fall on his uncharacteristically empty desk, still illuminated by the lamp he must have forgotten to turn off in his haste before leaving for the bar, and Zak follows his line of sight. Their eyes meet just a moment later, and before he has time to process it, Pepe’s pressed into the desk, Zak’s thigh pushed between his legs. Eager hands find bare skin as Zak once again slips his tongue into Pepe’s mouth, making him sigh into the kiss. The edge of the desk digs uncomfortably into the back of his thighs but he cannot bring himself to care, not right now, not when Zak had him rutting against his thigh, his hands guiding Pepe’s movements.

He should stop, slow down, at the very least, draw this out as much as he can, but he just can’t seem to bring himself to do that. Zak, however, seems to have different plans, suddenly pulling back. “Mr. Marti, missing an assignment again. What am I going to do with you…”

God, his voice is impossibly deeper than it usually is, and it drives Pepe crazy. This man should not be allowed to exist, let alone play along with Pepe’s shameful fantasies, or he will come right there in his pants. How he manages not to, Pepe frankly doesn’t know. Sheer willpower will get you quite far, it seems.

“I’m so sorry, professor. I’ll do anything to make it up to you. Anything.” He let out in one breath, doing nothing to disguise the neediness in his voice. “Turn around. Hands on the desk, where I can see them,” Zak says, taking a step back. Pepe dutifully does as he’s told in a heartbeat, holding on at the edge of the desk, leaning into it, his gold chain dangling a centimeter from his chest. He has no time to dwell on it, though, not when Zak crowds against his back, one hand coming to cover Pepe’s, pale against tan skin, the other dipping into his underwear, wrapping around the base of his cock, drawing out a sigh from him. Pepe would be embarrassed, but if the length pressing against his backside is any indicator, Zak isn’t faring any better, either.

His movements are slow, deliberate, hips pressed against Pepe’s backside but not moving against him as he covers his shoulders and the side of his neck in hot, open-mouthed kisses. It’s all too much and not nearly enough. Until Zak splays a hand between his shoulder blades. Until he lets himself be pushed down, chest flat against the desk, the final barriers between himself and Zak discarded. Long fingers pressing into him, stretching him open, making him swear under his breath. The pressure gone, then replaced by something else, something bigger. Zak pushes his length into him slowly, his grip on Pepe’s hips almost bruising. The groan he lets out makes Pepe’s dick jerk.

He gives him time to adjust to the stretch before starting to fuck into him in earnest, the room filled with the obscene sounds of skin meeting skin. Zak drapes himself over Pepe’s body, a welcome heat and weight against his back.

“I… fuck… I wanted to do this the first time I had you in my office, you know,” he says, voice barely above a whisper, all hot and breathy against Pepe’s neck. It sends a shiver down his spine. “Would have let you. Wanted it so bad too.” “I know… fuck… could tell from the way you’d stare. You weren’t exactly subtle about it. Staring. God… you have no idea how hard you made it for me.”

The confession makes Pepe’s head spin. He pushes back, meeting Zak’s hips, desperate for more. “Zak, please… please touch me…”

And how can Zak deny him, really, when he begs so prettily?

“I’ve got you, baby,” he all but coos, large hand once again wrapping around his length, pumping him in time with his thrusts. “Let go for me, yeah, c’mon, cum for me.” It’s all entirely too much for Pepe. He keens, screws his eyes shut, and spills his load all over Zak’s hand, clenching around his hardness. Zak’s movements falter too, filling Pepe up, breathing hard against his back, fingers of his other hand digging painfully into Pepe’s hip, sure to leave bruises on his tan skin.

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Some time later, after a shower that gets a little too handsy, they find themselves slumped against each other on the tiny bed, Zak splayed over Pepe’s chest, all soft and pliant, ridiculously perfect lips pressing against his jaw as Pepe runs his long fingers through his hair. It’s just as soft as he always imagined it would be.

He certainly is very grateful for professor Philippe’s complete lack of interest in his teaching duties.

#zakpepe agenda vol. 1 #f2 fanfic #zakpepe

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dobroyeutro · 2 months

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Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: ISADORA Papaya Made In Italy Leather Satchel.

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nightcall99 · 2 months

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Dreams from 8.8.24

Dream 1: I was at the train station with my sister and the train was a about to arrive. We had dispensed one medication, an anti-depressant, and left it on a seat because we knew it would eventually be collected by the intended recipient. However, at that moment, it was unattended. My sister was worried that the person would miss it and said, Should we do something about that? I said, No, just leave it. Then the train arrived. A small crowd of people boarded the train. I looked back at the seat and saw that an older couple was reaching for the medication box and then they got on the train too. They had cut it close but it was fine. I got my sister's attention and pointed toward them and said, Look they got it.

Dream 2: I was at a party and feeling myself. I was really happy with my outfit, which was grunge fairy/Y2K-inspired. A skirt and top. I was mingling as usual but then I became detached from everyone and I wasn't that interested in the interactions. There was some dude who was there that I found really attractive and I know that he found me attractive too. Then I started fiddling with my outfit. I dunno if the problem was already there, more likely that I made one because suddenly the belt wasn't on properly. I went to the bathroom to have more privacy so I could try and fix it. I kept trying to loop the material into the buckle but no matter what I tried it wouldn't go through. It's like it was back to front or something, and even when I flipped it around, it still wasn't working. I kept trying and trying. And then there was something wrong with the fabric sash I had around my hips, it wouldn't align or tie up properly.

Then I tried to go to the toilet and do my business but the door wouldn't lock and I was scared that a fellow party-goer would barge in. I would sit on the toilet seat, then get up to try to fix the door, going back and forth like that for ages. Every time I tried to fix the door or merely looked at it, the privacy situation got even worse. Like the gap which people could see me through got larger, and at one point the lower half of the door was just gone. Then the entire door was completely unattached from the hinges, just propped up by the door frame which meant it could fall over at any moment. It was making me so anxious. Inevitably someone tried to get in and I had to get up quickly from the seat and yell, I'm taking a dump.

Then I was in a room on a bed. There were two other people there, one of them was the hot guy I'd noticed from before, and a girl. I was still trying to fix my belt and sash and I was really focused on this. The tension between this guy and I was pretty strong and I knew that he wanted to hook up with me. I guess I was looking really helpless so he tried to help me with my outfit but I already knew where this heading since we were on a bed, he was touching me, and we were both attracted to each other. He was so handsome, with a magnetic aura and honestly, just my type. Then the girl suddenly became really jealous of my outfit. She reached for my skirt kind of aggressively and said incredulously, You're a size 4? But I'm a size 4 too! Then she kind of screamed shrilly, like a teenager who is having a tantrum might. I think she didn't like the fact that the guy liked me and not her. Then she went away and the guy was making moves on me, reaching for my breast and I kind of just gave in. We made out for a few minutes and it was very enjoyable and passionate but something stopped me from following through. I remembered that I had my period and also idk, I didn't really know him I guess. I felt weird about it even though I was having a good time and we were compatible. Once upon a time I would have been so happy for this kind of chemistry but now it felt like settling. I think in the back of my mind I knew that this guy wasn't the one for me. After realising this, I made the belt loop go on just fine and was able to fix my outfit. I just visualised it in my head, the steps to follow to get it to lay flat again and it worked. I think I vaguely knew that SM was at the party somewhere and wanted to go find him.

Dream 3: We were at work. It's always the same as irl, we subconsciously avoid each other's eyes for awhile until the energy balances out or whatever, and then it's time to look. His was standing a few metres away and his eyes pierced me. There was something almost alien about them. I looked away, stunned and couldn't stop smiling. I kind of forgot where I was and what I was doing, all I could do was smile. I felt people near me trying to get my attention but I was in my own little world. It was a firm look that communicated everything I needed to know.

Dream 4: I was at my old high school, where I was a student and it was almost time for the next class. At that moment we were having recess. I was with a group of girls who were presumably my friends and it was like everyone was looking to me to find the location of the next class. I was the one who knew where it was for some reason. I only had a feeling of where it was. I said, Remember Mrs. Jurkiew? (a primary school teacher that made me howl with crying once, rightfully so). Some people knew who I was talking about. I was thinking about how I remembered that she used to teach in a certain classroom and it was slowly coming to mind, the building and the vague area where that classroom was situated. I said, Remember the pit? Referring to the rendition of a 70's living room conversation pit that was near the classroom I was thinking of. Where we needed to go was a science classroom. These people just randomly trusted me even though I was a kid just like them.

Dream 5: I was walking around my high school with AL. Her hair had gone completely grey. At first I didn't notice but then I did and said, Oh is that your natural hair colour? No wonder you always told me you never use bleach to dye your hair red, it makes sense now, how come you never told me? On closer inspection, her hair was asymmetrical like a whole bunch on a certain side had been cut out haphazardly. I didn’t say anything, I chose not look deeper into it.

Dream 6: I went to use the bathroom in the middle of the night and there was bloody tissues everywhere. My sister was on her period and didn't flush or clean up after herself at all. Even though it looked horrible, I wasn't necessarily disgusted, just annoyed. I went to tell my sister and scolded her and she went to clean it up so I could use the toilet.

Dream 7: He and I embraced. It was everything, very emotional like I couldn’t get close enough. Not enough of us was touching, like there were clothes in the way and I was annoyed by this. I wanted all of it gone, all barriers.

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jynxd · 7 months

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The dark blue box was neatly wrapped with a bow, a gift she had crafted for Vi for this fateful day. Caitlyn rarely did much for Heartseeker Day, but for Vi, she wanted to shower her with a few gifts, to enjoy things she never had a chance to have before. So along with the white wrapped box, was a set of chocolates, two different kinds that she hoped she would like. One was caramel-filled chocolates, set in a small container. Another was a set of small flavorful cupcakes with chocolate chip cookies. The cupcakes were red velvet, covered in creme icing, and topped with a little cinnamon.

The box, once open, would have two metal pieces locked together. The magnetic rectangles could be moved and flipped, lightly played with for fun. But inside was a diamond surface on both sides, which could be used as a sharpening agent for Vi's claws or her teeth. The surface was pristine and clear like a flawless diamond, and properly kept Vi's natural weapons sharp and ready for use.

Caitlyn settled down outside in the Kiramman pavilion, a blanket spread out with plenty of food for the private picnic. The sun was bright and she had brought along a portal music player. "I'm not sure if you have Heartseekers Day in Zaun, but I hope you like today," Caitlyn smiled as she touched Vi's face with a gentle smile on her lips. All she wanted, was for Vi to know she was loved and cared for, and that she would always be here for her.

Good things in life did not come to Vi. No, Vi was a 25 year old woman, but until this point only knew the 8 years she had spent in Stillwater. Nothing pleasant ever happened in Stillwater. When you were a prisoner you were nothing but shit. You were there because you the lowest of lows, criminal scum to be punished. Except she didn't know why she was there. She had asked them, only to be told 'Oh don't play stupid, you know why you are here.'

Vi was a Zaunite, she knew that much, but she didn't know anything about its traditions. Nor had she known what it was like to ever be free. She assumed she had known before but would never know. However, thanks to Caitlyn she knew what freedom truly was. What it was like to live a life without violence. It was peaceful. Just like this picnic she didn't expect.

"Honestly I don't know what that even is, they mentioned anything like that in Stillwater." Vi stared down at the picnic before Caitlyn quickly caught her attention by the touch. She smiled in return and leaned into the touch, letting out a soft hum. "I wish I knew what it was like to be a Zaunite, too but I don't. So this is really my first time experiencing it. But for what it's worth, it's perfect. You're perfect." Vi's thoughts returned to the boxes before her. The sweets were delicious and were clearly made with love. However she couldn't help but love the magnetic rectangles and how perfect they were too. "This means more to me than you know, truly thank you. I wish I could have given you something in return if I knew this was a thing." @ferinehuntress

#ferinehuntress #;when did you get so comfortable living in someone elses shadow | vi;#{ vi and caitlyn thread}#{ valentines thread }

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miniaturemoonheart · 11 months

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RX FOR EMPATHS:

Empaths have an extraordinary capacity for union. They’re great in a crisis; people in need call forth their deepest abilities. They make gifted, intuitive healers. They see others deeply, well beyond the surface. And they have a magnetic quality that draws people to them. Yet flanking these positive aspects are several shadow sides. Here’s what you’ll want to focus on to help you live in a state of physical and emotional equilibrium.

1. Develop Boundaries. As an empath, you give too much space to others’ emotional lives. You solve their problems with ease and help them restore equilibrium, often at the expense of your own energy stores. But even when no one needs you, the habit of “trolling for crisis” means you’re always on alert, and makes it tough to return to the shores of your own awareness.

Empath Rx: Creating boundaries isn’t a matter of mental discipline, of “just say no.” When you’re an empath, limits need to be integrated into your physicality. The core body is your seat of power: What helps is a yoga practice that brings your focus into your deep, intrinsic core where you can develop “prana in the belly.” This four-pronged core body program includes awareness, strength, flexibility, and the capacity to release. Working with the core in this holistic way helps you ground back into your body and replenish your energy stores. Mindfulness tools can also help you monitor where—or on whom—you’re focused and notice when you’ve migrated into someone else’s direct experience.

2. Bring Awareness into Your Body. Imagine that you’ve left to visit a friend in another city and forgotten to lock your house. And that’s not all: You’ve left all the doors and windows wide open, so anyone can get in. This is what it’s like to be an empath. You can abandon your own home, your direct experience, in favor of someone else’s. The more you do this, the more difficult it is to return. What makes matters worse is that not inhabiting your body (and the moment) keeps the benefits of yoga and other mindfulness-based practices just beyond your reach.

Empath Rx: Offset this tendency toward dissociation with slow, mindful vinyasa yoga sequences that link movement with breath. Empaths can spend a whole yoga class or practice on auto-pilot: adding anchors for awareness will help bring you back to your body and to the present. Contemplative practices such as meditation and restorative yoga give you the time, space, and silence you need to get re-embodied again.

3. Balance Your Nervous System.

An empath’s environment is like “emotional satellite radio” with surround sound and hundreds of channels. Your nervous system surfs the dial constantly, flipping from station to station to listen to others’ emotional broadcasts: your boss’s complaints about work, your partner’s anxiety over a potential job loss, your best friend’s sadness about a breakup. These information-processing demands can catapult your nervous system into overdrive, which reinforces anxiety, depression, and chronic stress. On top of that, the incessant electronic requests of e-mail and social media can overload and exhaust you.

Empath RX:

Learn to notice the signs of nervous system overdrive, such as that inner sense of something always “humming” beneath the surface, an elevated heart rate, and increased emotional reactivity. Practice simple breathwork techniques like nasal breath (and if accessible, nasal breath with a longer exhale) to slow your heart and bring your nervous system back to baseline. Regular breaks from social media also help, as do practices that balance your nervous system and quiet your mind, like Restorative Yoga.

4. Learn to Regulate Intimacy.

For empaths, intimacy comes down to matters of space and reciprocity. You can feel like Dr. Doolittle’s Push-Me-Pull-You: Sometimes you crave intense emotional, physical, and spiritual bonding. At other times, you need so much space that having your own personal galaxy might feel too crowded. When you want to merge, you can threaten people who have a higher need for breathing room; when you need wide-open space, you can appear remote and withholding. And when it comes to reciprocity, you’re rarely comfortable on the receiving end. Your giving nature attracts narcissistic people who crave the mirroring and validation you offer. In the meantime, you’re able to create a fantasy in which the relationship lives up to its potential—and you inhabit that fantasy as though it were real. You learn to subsist on a diet of mere “emotional breadcrumbs,” and can suffer from malnourishment.

Empath Rx:

To build your ability to receive care from others, try bodywork or yoga therapy with someone you trust. You can also balance a personal yoga practice with group classes to strengthen your sense of community. If your job requires any degree of public exposure, or you work as a healer, you may need stretches of alone time to reestablish your equilibrium. Here again, mindfulness-based practices can help you notice feelings of being devoured and interrupt the cycle of merger and isolation before you reach the breaking point.

5. Develop emotional immunity.

Empaths pick up on other’s emotions and even their direct inner experience so rapidly that it’s hard to indentify what’s happened. As a result, a large part of your anxiety, depression, chronic pain, and immune issues can belong not to you, but to someone else. And just like your nervous system and physical body, your emotional body and immune system struggle with boundaries. They have difficulty discerning what’s you and what’s not. This leaves you vulnerable to emotional issues like anxiety, depression, and chronic stress, as well as auto-immune illnesses such as allergies, lupus, or fibromyalgia.

Empath Rx:

Practice interpersonal hygiene: using mindfulness, notice how you feel after spending time with others. You’ll soon learn which people are hazardous to your health, and you can limit your interactions with them. Also try lymph-stimulating asana sequences and Restorative Yoga to stimulate your capacity for constructive internal reflection.

#heart of and empath soul of a witch

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black-kitties · 2 years

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Worldheart - Chapter 8

Start reading from Chapter 1

Jaz kneeled alongside Brin pulling Hero into an embrace. She left a kiss on his snout.

“I’ll get us out of this. Just wait for me.” Brin whispered. His voice sounded gravelly and low, more like a growl than speech. The Raptor soldiers quickly seized him, roughly pulling him to his feet. They shackled him using a giant block like cuff that attached magnetically to itself before dragging him away. Their tails slam into his legs tripping him up, but she never heard him make so much as a grunt of pain before she lost sight of him.

At the same time, two Raptors grabbed Jaz by her upper arms while another tried to get a hold of Hero. He slipped out of its arms, easily dodging behind it. Jaz felt a metal tail snake around her neck. It squeezed cutting off her air. She struggled to grab it, to rip it off her neck, but her arms were clamped against her sides in a bruising grip by both Raptors. Seeing this, Hero stopped struggling and allowed himself to be grabbed. Jaz gasped for air, tears blurring her vision as the tail finally released her. By the time she’d recovered Hero had already disappeared and she was being dragged away in the opposite direction of Timber Wolf.

This time she was conscious for them marching her through the halls. She didn’t attempt to resist. There was no point anyways, being weaker than a normal human. Jaz focused on trying to memorize the exact path they were taking, recounting each twist and turn as well as every door number they passed. She looked for any markings she could use, but every hall was the same; smooth cement with no distinguishable features. In her mind she repeated each twist in turn like a mantra, adding to it as they went.

They stopped in front of a door labelled seventy three. The door slid the wall revealing a large laboratory with rows upon rows of operating tables and machines. At the center of the room was a large glass dome with green liquid suspended in it, but aside from bubbles it was empty. Jaz managed to catch a glimpse of the code they keyed into the door to open it and she burned it into her memory. They pushed her through the lab snaking between various large machines and equipment designed to scan and monitor. On the other end of the room was another door locked with a keypad. This time the Raptor noticed her watching and hit her hard on the back of her head scattering stars in her vision. She focused hard on remembering the two codes, completely ignoring her surroundings even as she was being shoved into a small metal cube of a room. A blue force field stuttered to life sealing her in. She glared at their retreating forms until the door had hissed shut.

“Hey. Are you ok?” A male voice called out at her from the cell directly in front of hers. Jaz blurted out the two codes she was trying to memorize. “What was that?”

“The codes to the doors, remember them.” She continued to focus on the mantra.

“Six numbers and five. You’re missing a digit.” A female voice caught Jaz’s eyes and she focused on the woman approaching the forcefield on the far end of the room. She had ice blue eyes and golden hair she let flow freely over her shoulders. She had the face of a supermodel and her bright red lipstick really stuck out to Jaz. She was dressed in black spandex with a blackish blue leather jacket on, floral patterned black spandex leggings and heeled ankle boots. Jaz took another look at the man who’d asked if she was ok before. He wore a black mask that concealed just his eyes, his blond hair was topped by a feathered green hat and he wore a green spandex and leather body suit.

“Oh! It’s you two!” Jaz smiled, “The Black Canary and the Green Arrow! I’m a big fan.” Despite herself, she smiled at the sight of them in the flesh. If only she was meeting them at a fundraiser or some other innocuous event, rather than trapped in a creepy old mans laboratory dungeon.

“We get that a lot,” The Green Arrow winked, flipping Jaz a finger gun.

The Black Canary rolled her eyes at him, “The door codes. What doors do they go to?”

“The complete one is the door to the lab, incomplete one is the door to this room.” Jaz replied.

“Great…” The Green Arrow paused, “You don’t happen to have a plan to get us out of the cages, do you?”

Jaz leaned against the wall, letting herself slide down the wall till she was sitting. “None whatsoever.”

The Black Canary swore under her breath turning away frustrated. “Don’t mind her,” Arrow tried to reassure Jaz. “So. You know who we are, but we don’t know you. Or, err. Recognize you at least.”

Jaz could tell by the way he was speaking that he was trying to help take her mind off things, “Uh, it’s probably best if I don’t say.” She smiled sheepishly trying to come up with some excuse.

“Oh! You’re not in uniform, are you?” Arrow came to the wrong conclusion, but Jaz quickly nodded happy to be saved the work of lying. In truth she just didn’t want it to get back to Terese and Clara that she’d been captured in this crazy man’s basement. He laughed embarrassed, “And here I thought you were a civilian.”

“She’s to calm to be a civ, Arrow.” Canary spoke behind her shoulder.

“So, how did they capture you two? I don’t think I’ve heard anything about you missing yet.” Jaz tried to change the subject fast.

“We don’t know how long we’ve been down here. We were tasked with protecting the streets of Metropolis while the rest of the league took on their main base of operations… Or at least, where we thought it was.” He scratched the back of his head. He was sitting on the metal cot that jutted out of the corner of his cell. “The rest is kind of blurry.”

“Ah, no wonder. That happened last night so you haven’t been here long at least.” Jaz gazed at the metal cot in her own cell calculating whether or not it would be comfortable enough to warrant moving.

“It hasn’t even been a day?” Arrow nodded, “Felt like its been forever since we’ve been trapped here together.” He shot Canary’s back a coy smile, “Well I’m sure they’re already looking for us as we speak.”

“I remember us checking in at the end of the mission,” Canary turned to face them, “They won’t come looking until someone notices us missing; and that could take days.”

Arrow stood and stretched, “Then we’ll just have to save ourselves.” He gave Jaz a confident smile before stretching out on his cot. Canary just shook her head before punching the force field for good measure. Her fist bounced back as if slammed with an equal amount of force and Jaz watched her rub her gloved hand as a wisp of smoke rose up.

The room fell quiet which was just as well to Jaz. The smack across her head had re-awoken that concussion of hers and her body felt heavy as it hit the metal cot.

- - -

Hero slammed into the glass wall of his chamber at the center of a circular room. The door they’d thrown him through sealed so tight the seam disappeared. He slammed himself against it, bouncing off the glass harmlessly.

“It’s no use,” The nasally voice of Maxmellius chimed in. Hero searched the room outside until he spotted the hunched figure walking along the upper balcony high above his chamber. The glass extended another story up with a lower walkway surrounding it and a balcony looking down on it. “The glass is infused with the same kind of red Kryptonite that I inserted in your body a week ago.” His smile turned mocking, “How does it feel, being reduced to a mere dog before your fellow supers, Superman?” He spat the name.

Superman bared his teeth, releasing a menacing growl but the man simply laughed. “Oh that’s right, you’re a dog.” He sneered, “I can’t understand you, what was that again?” Superman took a running leap attempting to smash through the glass in front of Maxmellius. The glass hummed from the blow, but Supermans already weakened body couldn’t hold up in the face of the kryptonite infused glass. He bounced off harmlessly.

“Oh, don’t think you’ll be escaping again super dog. I want to make sure you watch as each one of your friends become mere pet’s just like you. Soon the world will see the downfall of the Justice League, and it all started because of you.”

Maxmellius paused for a moment, his face twisted in rage as a memory flashed in his mind. He smiled again when his eyes fell on Hero. “Now that I have you again, I’m going to shock the world with how its greatest hero has stooped so low as to eating dog food off the floor.” He slammed his fist into a button and a stream of kibble fell from a small hole in the ceiling high above. Superman ignored it as it rained down around him. “Oh? Not hungry? Don’t worry.” The man pointed to several cameras all pointed on the cage, “The camera’s are always running, Superman. No matter how long it takes, every animal has to eat.” The man’s laughter echoed long after he’d left.

- - -

Jaz startled awake to the sound of the forcefield shutting down. She blinked trying to get her bearings as two thug-like looking men dressed in torn jeans, ripped black shirts and spiked vests walked into the room pulling her to her feet. Canary was awake and standing at the front of her cell. “Where are you taking us?” She demanded.

“Us? Don’t remember inviting you,” One of the men responded. They didn’t wait to hear her response. They led Jaz to one of the numerous operating chairs in the lab, pushing her roughly into it. It had large leather straps to restrain her arms and legs which they wasted no time fastening despite her barely being in the seat. By the time they were done, and she’d squirmed her way into the seat properly, she realized they were loose enough for her to slip out of. Her heart began racing as she tried to figure out what to do.

“Head back.” The second man pulled her head against the pad, strapping it in place. He glanced at a notepad before positioning some of the machines, pointy ends towards her. As they worked around her they were complaining to each other.

“I can’t believe they have us doing this menial bullshit. What the fuck is this for anyways?” The grunt who’d strapped her down spoke.

“Oh shut up, will you?” The second one cursed as he sat himself behind a computer, “The gig’s gonna pay real good, who cares if we have to strap some dumbass’s down and press buttons.” He was following some instructions written down on a paper pad, typing it into the computer in front of him. As he did some of the machines responded, calibrating or adjusting themselves. The computer was facing her making it impossible for her to see what he was doing.

“That’s assuming we even get paid. Don’t you forget he was supposed to pay us a week ago, then it became once that damn dog was captured. Now, we got half our people behind bars and still no cash.”

“And It’s only been a day since we got the damned mutt in the glass cage. Besides, the guys running the dog collection got themselves caught, leading those damn detectives right too em. Just play it smart and we’ll get our money.” Silence fell between them while Jaz looked for an opening. She couldn’t help but notice the guns holstered on their belts. While they were ‘grunts’ to say the least, they were huge compared to her and she had no weapon she could use to knock them out.

“You guys honestly think he’s got the cash to pay you?” She chimed in, hoping to instigate something. They didn’t strike her as the type who were particularly loyal, at least not to anything but cash.

“Don’t talk to her.” The one behind the computer warned his friend. The other one just clicked his tongue, jabbing a needle into her arm far too aggressively. Jaz winced but otherwise made no noise.

“God damn it, why isn’t the vial filling.” He moved the needle in her arm forcing her to bite her cheek to stop herself crying out.

“Go for the vein dude, the fucking vein.”

It was a painful few moments as he kept jabbing and missing it. Finally, the vial began to fill. “Bet you don’t know what he’s gonna do with the blood eh?” Jaz kept prodding.

“I don’t give a shit what he’s going to do to you-“ His friend cut him off warning him not to speak to her. They yelled at each other for a moment longer before he returned to swap vials, filling multiple in a row.

“Don’t care, or don’t need to know?” Jaz tried again.

He chuckled, “Look, hero girl. I’m just in it for the money. Cold. Hard. Cash. I don’t give a shit about needing to know anything, so long as I get paid.”

“Then you should at least know whether or not this guy’s good for his word, eh?” She noticed his eyebrow twitch. It was all the indication she needed to know a seed of doubt was planted, “Think about it. Some nobody scientist experimenting on dogs, illegal operation in a shitty bunker of a laboratory down here. Hell, the guy can’t even afford real lab assistants, so he’s got you two down here using post it notes for his research. Does that sound like a guy who’s got money?”

“She’s just-“ He yelled at his colleague to shut it.

“And why do you care?”

“Honestly? I don’t. But I can say, if it turns out the guy’s been playing you, you’ve got a room full of problems to get back at him with.” She shrugged, hoping any of her bullshit had some truth to it. The rest of the procedure wrapped up in silence. Nothing else stood out to her that she could use. They escorted her back to the cell, taking care to conceal the pin from her.

“Damn.” Arrow was the first to speak. “I was hoping you could take those two.”

Jaz simply shook her head, laying back onto her cot wordlessly.

Chapter 9

#worldheart #fanfiction #fanfic #fanfic writing #justice league #writing #ao3 writer #ao3 author #chapters #chapter 8

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