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chaotic-orphan · 1 year

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Intoxicating fear (III)

Instant Regret

Part One here // Continued from here // Masterpost

*~*~*~*~*

Kit jerked awake suddenly, letting out a sharp cry as he moved, the motion pulling on his arms without mercy. His feet almost slipped at the movement, but he caught himself before he fell. A shiver ran down his spine as his eyes met the concrete wall in front of him.

He didn’t even get a moment of blissful ignorance, couldn’t even pretend maybe this was all some bad dream and he’d wake up in his bed safe and sound.

The feeling of his power buzzing under his skin wasn’t even a familiar comfort. It was there, he could use it. If he needed to, he could use it. But, if he wanted to stay awake and alert, he couldn’t. He didn’t exactly enjoy frying himself with his own electricity.

It was cruel.

It would have been kinder if Omen had just put him in power dampeners. At least then he could pretend that he couldn’t do anything to save himself.

Kit shook his head. No. He refused to be defeated. He’d get out of here. Get away from Omen, somehow. Starting with the fucking water he was standing in.

Kit looked down to assess his situation while he had a moment of peace. His feet were fully submerged in the clear water up to his ankles. It was just a normal basin. Kit should be able to kick it over. Kit did just that. He kicked the edge of the basin, but it didn’t budge. Kit tried again. All it did was splash some water out. Kit frowned, leaned forward to get a better look then winced as his arms groaned in the chains.

The edges of the basin were bolted down into the ground, or, no, not the ground, some other heavy thing, like a wooden platform.

Fine. The water wasn’t going anywhere but that doesn’t mean Kit had to stay in it.

Kit looked down, lifted a foot, balancing it on the edge of the basin and tested putting weight on it. It slipped down the edges into the water with a weak thunk.

Alright. New plan.

Kit lifted his other foot and ran it down his rolled-up trousers, drying it off slightly before trying again. He got his foot up on the ledge and nearly cried as the weight in his arms lessened.

Okay. Okay. Now the other foot.

He could do this, Kit nodded to himself, bracing his shoulders as he held his weight on his arms above his head and lifted the other foot out of the water.

He got the second foot on the side of the basin, balancing on the first and the pressure on his arms felt as light as a feather.

Kit just stayed there, panting, still as a statue. Oh god that feels so good, he just needed to enjoy it. He was okay. This he could deal with. Kit closed his eyes and took deep breaths.

Slowly in through the nose, long and deep, expanding his chest and filling his lungs with sweet, stress-free air.

Holding it there for a moment.

Then a drawn-out exhale until his entire body deflated like a balloon.

And again.

He repeated this for another while before finally risking a glance up at his arms to see exactly how they were strung above his head. The metal cuffs were padlocked to a chain that ran up to a hook in the ceiling. The hook curved in and around and it was far too high for Kit to even think about trying to get the chain free.

So his arms were still stuck above his head. Okay. That’s okay… Kit felt the familiar flare of panic rear it’s mighty head in his gut, but he pushed it back down.

He was trapped. There was nothing he could do. Panicking right now wouldn’t help him. He just needed to pause and breathe…

Kit looked down to his feet again. He risked stepping a foot down onto the platform the basin was attached to but it stretched his arms awkwardly, so he stood on the side of the basin again and let out a quiet whine.

“I like that sound,” Omen purred behind them. Kit flinched but thankfully his balance kept him up on the side of the basin, arms relaxing slightly above him, still numb. “Make it for me again.”

“Let me go,” Kit said instead, his voice sounding even more pathetic than his whine.

“Hmm,” is all Omen replied. The sound of his shoes clacking against the concrete was the only thing Kit was focused on at that moment in time. The footsteps and how he got closer and closer, winding Kit’s nerves tighter and tighter until the footsteps stopped.

Kit’s breath hitched.

A hand bunched into the back of his shirt and Kit could barely let out a cry of protest before he was yanked backwards, his feet splashing into the water and his arms felt like they were ripped from his body.

“That sound was even better,” Omen said, a smile in his voice as he walked around to Kit’s front, so Kit could witness Omen in all his horrifying glory.

His face looked paler in the dim lighting, as if he were never touched by sunlight. His raven hair was half tied back so strands didn’t fall around his face, hiding all the sharp edges of Omen, his cheek bones, his jaw, the razor-sharp curve of his smile. He wore a black button up shirt today, the top button undone, no tie or suit jacket. He reached a hand up to Kit’s cheek and Kit flinched back, cursing himself silently for it.

“Ever heard of personal space?” Kit bit out with a huff. Omen smiled. He just kept smiling and Kit wanted so badly to just rip it from his face. Just once, to see it slip, but that would leave Kit in a worse off predicament. His body still ached from the last time Omen had got too close.

“Yeah, I know about personal space. I’m just not a fan of it with you. You know, it’s hard for me— this,” Omen said, gesturing between the two of them, grin getting wider. His bottomless black eyes were even smiling. “I’m not used to not using my powers on people. Y’know, knowing exactly what they’re thinking. It’s strange.”

Kit scoffed, “right. So, when you can’t invade somebody’s brain against their consent, you’ll just invade their personal space instead?”

“Hmm,” Omen hummed as he placed a hand on Kit’s throat and squeezed until Kit’s feet were splashing up water, and his face turned red. He finally let go and stepped back, his heels hitting the basin’s edge – gasping in air greedily, swallowing oxygen like it was a limited resource.

Well, with Omen’s mood swings it was.

“You put it very succinctly. I just need to know, need to see your fear you’re so desperately trying to hide from me. Need to feel it, do you know what I mean?”

“No, sorry,” Kit said, and even Omen raised a suspicious brow at Kit’s seemingly empathetic tone. “I’m not a sociopath so I recognise normal human emotion without having to be weird about it.”

Omen shrugged, unbothered. He began unbuttoning the cuff of his shirt and rolling up his sleeves slowly, black eyes focused on Kit’s the whole time.

“I imagine it’s not unlike your weirdness, Kit,” Ambrose said, his voice like liquid silver, charming and smooth. Kit understood the term silver tongue when Omen spoke. It’s like you wanted to hear everything he said, hang onto every word. Even without Omen using his power on Kit, his voice still affected him to some extent.

“Us heroes and villains, we’re all where we are today because we didn’t fit into the normal life. We didn’t get powers to squander them and sit in an office all day drinking coffee with normal humans. We’re all weird, even you and your sensitivity to electricity,” Omen said, unbuttoning his second cuff and starting on his other sleeve. He levelled Kit with his black eyes. “My guess is you can feel the electric currents in the environment around you. Am I right? In the air, in the water, in our bodies?”

Kit didn’t say anything, just stared at Omen as he spoke. “Static electricity doesn’t affect you? No?”

Kit must have given something away because Omen smiled.

“Hah, you’re lucky. It can be a real bitch, but I respect you want to keep your power private. My point is, that normal people are affected by static electricity, and you have a resistance to it. That little spark show you exhibited yesterday told me you don’t have full immunity, but a normal person would be dead if they had that much electricity coursing through their body.”

“What’s your point?” Kit snapped, tired with Omen’s villain monologue. He stepped up to Kit, grabbed Kit by the collar of his shirt and yanked him down, causing Kit to cry out.

“What did I say about being nice to me? Didn’t I say I could make things uncomfortable for you?”

Kit’s screams faded into loud groans of pain as he bit down on his tongue, but Ambrose pulled him down harder and Kit couldn’t bear the strain as he cried out.

He reacted on instinct.

He hadn’t meant to do it.

It just happened on reflex.

The strain on his arms, it felt like he was going to pop, and Kit just needed Omen to let go of them, to just stop—

His legs shot up and kicked Omen back. His foot planting squarely on Omen’s chest and knocking him back a couple steps. Omen’s dark eyes went wide with surprise, and he let go of Kit. Kit’s foot landed on the edge of the basin giving Kit some relief from the strain on his arms.

Nothing moved between them.

Not even a breath.

Kit was too scared to dare breathe, to blink, to do anything other than stare at Omen with wide eyes, too stunned to do anything.

Omen’s face cracked. A shocked laughter escaped him, filling the silence of the room. He clapped his hands wordlessly as his melodic laugh filled the air and the dread in Kit’s gut only increased when he should have been reassured.

Omen finally composed himself, and stood up taller than before, delight shining on his face. “You— are just full of surprises, Kit. Here I thought you were deathly afraid of me, and yet, if there was someone I was deathly afraid of… I know I wouldn’t have kicked them of all things.”

“No, no, Omen,” Kit pleaded as Omen advanced on Kit. “Please, I didn’t—”

“Oh, but you did, Kit,” Omen said, putting a hand on Kit’s shoulder, and shushing him as Kit flinched. “Ssh, Sssh, sweet Malyn, look at me…”

Kit was shaking his head, his eyes closed. “Look at me,” Ambrose commanded, and Kit opened his eyes, still shaking his head at the villain.

“I’m… I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologising,” Omen told Kit, putting a finger under Kit’s chin, stopping Kit from shaking his head. Kit couldn’t fight the shiver that ran under his skin at how close Omen was. What he could do to Kit… without touching him. He didn’t even need to touch Kit for his power, he could do it from across the room. He just wanted to show Kit that he could do whatever he wanted, and Kit would just have to deal with it. The fear came back with a jolt and Kit fought back tears at the overwhelming helplessness of his situation.

“Omen—”

“Hush. Let me bask in your fear, I haven’t seen it all day. It’s like nicotine, it makes the day a bit better, makes the air you breathe a bit cleaner. You’re practically shaking! Look at you, I have one question for you. Are you paying attention?”

Kit nodded because he couldn’t trust his voice.

“Good,” Omen praised, “very good. Now, tell me why you fear me so much.”

The chains above Kit were shaking, his teeth rattling in his skull. It was a cold fear that washed over him at the question, at what Omen could do to him.

What Omen could do to him…

And Kit was powerless to stop them, he had no chance.

“Omen… please,” Kit sniffed, fighting the tears back, but the villain heard his voice crack.

Omen sighed and stepped back, removing his hands from Kit. He clicked his tongue against his teeth and shook his head.

“You know, I really do hate to do this to you,” Omen said. That was all he said. He let Kit’s mind conjure up the rest. Then he felt the icy chill of Omen’s power tugging at his mind and Kit jerked forward in his chains.

Tears streaming freely now.

“No Omen! Omen! No, wait! Wait!”

“You’re just going to go for a little nap for me. Maybe you’ll be more agreeable when you wake.”

“Wait, no! Please!” Kit called into the darkness as Omen blocked Kit’s sight first. He struggled in his chains, trying to gain purchase on anything but he couldn’t hear Omen around him. He couldn’t hear.

Kit’s heartbeat thundered in his ears, blood rushing through like a tsunami’s unforgiving tide.

“Omen, wait!” Kit cried and gasped when he felt Omen’s hand on his hair, yanking his head back harshly.

This time when Omen spoke it was in Kit’s mind.

Nighty night, little Kit.

The last terrifying thought paralysed him as Kit was dragged into unconsciousness, kicking and screaming: how does he know my name?

Kit went still in his chains. Omen double checked his mind to make sure Kit was unconscious then he stepped back away from the hero, walking around to face him. He rubbed his chest from Kit’s kick, still stunned at him for having the audacity to try something like that.

Ambrose smiled to think of it.

He was right for taking Kit.

He was going to be so much fun to break.

*~*~*~*~*

Continued here

Tag-list: @princess-bubble-blossom @nameless-beanie (lmk if you wanna be added or removed)

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testingthewatersss · 9 months

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Blizzard Trigger warnings for PTSD, mentions of war, torture, etc. Just unapologetic cuddling and comfort. Bucky Barnes x F Reader Oneshot 2240 words fluff, angst, comfort. 18+ MDNI

You’re supposed to be home by now, but then again, the weather’s hardly been on your side.

His lip is bleeding.

He’s been picking at the chapped skin with his teeth while he waits.

The taste of iron is almost comforting in it’s familiarity. So, he thinks grimly, is the cold.

His body wants to shiver. The hairs on his flesh arm are standing on end, under the SHEILD branded sweatshirt he’s wearing but he knows better than to give in to the reflex.

He knows that once he’s let himself start, he won’t be able to stop. He knows it’s a bad move to make when he’s still physically capable of fighting it.

At least the snow is soft.

It’s soft as it floats down, landing in his hair. Or his lap. Or his boots.

His boots.

He looks down at them and is unsurprised to see that they’re totally buried now. He considers moving them, but decides that might be a mistake as well.

Better to not move at all.

He sees a burst of white air leave his lips, and curses himself for it.

Pull it together, he commands internally, in and out, in and out-

Shallow breathing is better. It’s less painful, it draws less attention.

“Bucky?!”

His head snaps sidewards, panic flaring at the use of his name;

“Jesus christ!” Y/N hisses, running towards him, “What the hell are you doing?!”

“W-waiting” he answers, voice cracking from disuse, “W-aiting for you”

“Waiting for me?!” she repeats, horror mixing with hysteria as she drinks in the sight of him-

The sight of him outside in a blizzard, perched on the wall, covered in snow.

“What the fuck” she gasps, reaching out a gloved hand to brush white from his shoulder, “Bucky, it’s freezing!”

He hadn’t wanted to worry her. He bites at his lip again as guilt settles heavily into his chest.

“How long have you been out here?!” she asks, still disbelieving, “I told you I’d call you when I got home!”

He’s like a statue. If she hadn’t been so aware of her surroundings and the way they usually appear she might have mistaken him for part of the scenery.

“Shit” she says, urgency creeping into her tone, “C’mon, stand up”

He looks up at her, shifting his posture for the first time in hours. His neck is tight. It hurts, but he hides his grimace by locking his jaw.

That also serves to stop his teeth from chattering, so he takes it as a win.

“Sweetheart” Y/N sighs, altering her approach and letting her fingers drift up to his cheek instead, “C-”

“I… I was waitin’ f-for you” he cuts in, trying to justify his position- “I- I needed to see you come home”

She nods, curling her woollen clad fingers stroke his jaw-

“I’m here” she tells him, “I’m home, okay? Come inside with me?”

She’s here, Bucky thinks, she’s home, and now I’m going to go inside with her.

It’s like his mind has been frozen by the blizzard. His thoughts are slow and mechanical.

Still, when Y/N reaches down to take his hand, he curls his fingers around hers, and when she moves back, urging him to stand, he does.

That hurts. Standing after being in one set position for so long.

His legs ache. His back aches. God, he thinks, testing an unsteady step, his whole body aches.

His feet are heavy. He wonders if that’s just because of the snow covering the boots.

The door to her apartment complex swings open, and then they’re making their way up to her suite.

Bucky is silent, clutching her hand and following as she climbs the wooden staircase, trying to match her pace with his.

And then she’s fumbling with her door key. Her gloved hand is clumsy, and she’s only got the one free, because Bucky is still holding the other and she has no intention of being the first to let go.

Frustration causes her to just give in and push at the door with an exasperated huff.

To her surprise, it swings open without any resistance.

That’s not good.

That’s very not good.

She looks inside suspiciously, noticing that her lights are on, when she had very deliberately turned them off when she’d left three days ago-

“Buck-” she goes to say, and then, she sees it.

The keychain hanging from the inside her lock, key still lodged inside.

It’s instantly recognisable. It’s the Captain America’s Shield one that she’d bought Bucky over a month ago.

So you won’t lose it.

Of course, she thinks, He has a key, of course he’d have let himself in.

So why the hell did he leave? why the hell did he decide to wait for her outside in a blizzard?

She decides not to ask. Not yet, anyway.

“Okay” she murmurs, leading him inside, “C’mon, I’ll run you a bath, okay?”

“Doll-“

but she’s already gone.

Her fingers have slipped out from his, and she’s already half way to her bedroom-

“Shit”

She’s starring at her wardrobe. At the messy gauge that’s been dug out of the wood by something that looks suspiciously like a shoulder.

A metal shoulder, maybe.

After a quick survey of the rest of her room, she moves swiftly to the bathroom, where she sets about her task of starting the water running into the tub;

Steam fills the air almost instantly. She peels her gloves off, and removes her coat, taking a few minutes to observe herself before redirecting her attention to the problem at hand.

Well, the mystery at hand, anyway.

Nothing else in her room is damaged, so that rules out the likelihood of a fight.

So does the way he'd been so calmly waiting for her on her doorstep. He wouldn't have let her within a hundred miles of her building if he’d have been fighting someone inside it.

No. That’s not it.

Her head snaps up when she hears his footsteps. She sees him watching her nervously from the entry way to her room-

With a gun in his hands.

It's his gun. It’s the pistol he carries in his inside pocket.

Her head tilts, but before she can open her mouth to question him, he’s moving, holding it out more obviously for her to take;

“Please?” he whispers, voice cracking again, “T-take it”

So she does.

She takes it, tucking it into the back of her waist band so that both of her hands can stay free.

“Come on” Bucky hears her prompt, “You go have that bath now, okay? I’m going to make some calls.”

He’s still covered in snow. Half of it is melting, making his clothes heavy and saturated in cold water.

A bath sounds reasonable. The sound of the water rushing into the basin is pleasant too.

He thinks it sounds nice, and as he starts to walk towards it, he finds himself wondering why he she isn’t joining him.

Usually she will.

Usually, the pair will spend hours together, soaking in warm water, enjoying the closeness- but, no.

Bucky blinks and finds himself alone in her bathroom, starring at his own reflection from the rippling surface of the water.

For a second, he sees The Solider starring back at him.

He flinches, and a flurry of snow falls down from the now matted lengths of his hair.

Oh, god.

He looks awful. No wonder she’d sent him away.

That realisation hits him like a bullet.

He tries his best to force the self deprecating thoughts that it breeds away so that he can undress himself and get into the tub without crying.

She wants you to get into the bath, he thinks, she ran it and told you to get in- she’s making some calls. She’s home now anyway- she’s safe. You gave her your gun. She’s safe. She’s home and she’s safe-

“When did he leave?” Y/N asks, leaning against her kitchen counter, “Steve- I want to know how long he’s been sitting outside in a cat-3 storm!”

“I don’t know exactly” he replies, voice crackling through her cell phone, “he left for your place after the briefing this morning, but he called me at three and said everything was fine- I haven’t heard from him since”

She signs, frustrated but understanding.

“I just can’t figure it out” she admits, “I don’t know why he didn’t stay inside? He was obviously in here”

“I’m sorry” Steve says, “I should’ve told him to stay here-“

“-No” she cuts in, “-that wouldn’t have helped, I just- I don’t know, I just hate seeing him like that y’know? He must’ve been freezing”

“I can always swing by?”

She considers his offer for a moment. Eyes flicking to the clock on her display.

22:28

“No” she sighs, “No, we’ll be fine, I’ll take care of it- I don’t know- I just thought he might’ve called you or something”

They exchange polite goodbyes and she tells him again not to worry. That Bucky is fine and he agrees, saying that he knows she’ll take good care of him.

That seems almost comical considering how she’s practically abandoned him in her panic, but still she thinks it’s better late than never.

Food, she decides- Warm food and clean, dry clothes.

That’s what he needs.

She heats up a pan on the stove and fills it with soup. She sets it to simmer and places the gun he’d given her earlier in the drawer where she keeps the napkins.

It’s not like I’ll need it.

And then she heads back towards the bed room. Taking a moment to listen for any sounds coming from the bathroom.

There aren’t any, so she goes into her damaged closet, ignoring the creak of protest from the door as she pulls out a spare set of sweats for him to change into. There’s a dry shirt too, and a sweater so she gathers those as well, before rummaging around her room to collect socks and a fresh set of towels.

She leaves the clothes on her bed, carrying only the towels as she walks into the bathroom.

Seeing him in the tub shouldn’t surprise her, not when that’s exactly what she’d asked him to do, but there’s something about the unnaturalness of his position that makes her double take.

He’s stiff, sitting upright against the back of the porcelain fixture with a look of fierce concentration on his face.

And he’s red.

He’s bright red.

“Oh, god” she whispers, mainly to herself, “Are you alright?”

He doesn’t seem to notice her appearance in the room. Not until she’s crouching by the tub, towels abandoned by her knees.

“Bucky” she says, more firmly now, “Are you alright?”

He hadn’t answered her before. He hadn’t even blinked.

Now, though, at least he’s looking at her.

“I- I’m fine” he says, voice still not quite right, “I-It’s just w-warm and- I- I wasn’t.”

That makes sense. He’d been outside in the snow for god knows how long, and then he’d barely had ten minutes inside before he’d gotten into a steaming hot bath.

Of course he’s red, she thinks, annoyed at herself for missing it, He must be burning up-

“Does it hurt?” she asks worriedly, “I can cool it down a little?”

His head shakes a fraction, but Y/N isn’t convinced. She dips her fingers into the water, and opens her mouth to once again suggest adding some cold water, but before she can get the words out, Bucky does something that silences her instantly;

He reaches out and holds onto her hand.

And that’s when she sees it.

She sees the look on his face, and her heart cracks, right down the middle.

“I missed you too” she promises, squeezing his fingers, “Bucky, look at me-”

and he does.

His eyes snap to hers, and she feels her whole chest aching when she realises how full they are;

“I’m home” she says, “I’m here, I’m right here, okay?”

He exhales slowly, breath mixing with the steam that’s still swirling around his face.

“I- I j-just wanted to see you c-come back” he whispers

“I know” she says, bringing her other hand up to cup his face, “That’s alright. Are you warmin’ up?”

He nods, leaning into her palm as it settles against his cheek.

His whole body stings. He knows that it’s just the water doing its job and heating him up, but still— it hurts.

It hurts, and Y/N is his comfort.

She’s always been his comfort.

“God, Buck” she murmurs, relenting to the way that he’s leaning into her touch so obviously, “You scared me”

“I’m sorry” he says instantly, “I- I didn’t mean to”

“I know” she allows, running her thumb across the soft skin under his eye, “I just don’t know what you were thinkin- waitin’ out there in the snow… Bucky it’s so cold out-“

“I j-just w-wanted to s-see you” he says again, more lamely than before.

This time, she just shakes her head.

Now’s not the time to hash this out. That much is obvious, so she decides not to try.

“Well” she says softly, “I’m right here— Hi”

Bucky blinks, watching as Y/N beams at him in greeting.

“Hey” he replies softly, suddenly feeling strangely small, “Hey doll…”

She leans in and presses a soft kiss against his brow, smoothing his now soaked hair back with the hand he’s not still holding.

“When you’re done in here, I’ve made dinner, okay?- I’ve left some dry clothes on the bed”

Masterlist

#bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barns x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes angst #bucky x you #bucky x female reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky fanfic #the winter soldier x you #fluff #x reader #drabble #Oneshot

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bad268 · 2 years

Note

Hi! Could you do a enemies to lovers with Minho. You guys were both taken by WICKD at a young age and became pretty good childhood friends and then later you started dating in your teens. Minho was then taken away and you rebelled with Thomas and they sent you up. In the maze you don’t get along with Minho but then suddenly you both get a memory of you two dating from before the maze. Angst and you don’t get together until scorch trials? Jealous Minho lolol. Love ur work!

It’s Always Been Minho (TMR Minho X Reader)

Fandom: The Maze Runner

Requested: Clearly

Warnings: WICKED

Pronouns: She/Her

W.C. 5124

Summary: Minho and the reader were together before the maze. What will happen in the maze and after they get out?

As always, my requests and ships are OPEN

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

~~(^Google/Wiki fandom)

I couldn’t see. The last thing I saw was the WICKD workers taking me out of the little cave I called home after my parents went crazy. They caught the Flare.

I couldn’t remember all that happened. I recall them saying I would be safer with them rather than on my own. They said they wanted to help find a cure. They said I was immune. I didn’t know what that meant. I was four.

My head hurts. I think I was screaming. It could have been someone else. Who knew? It has only been a week since I followed those WICKD soldiers out of my cave. They took me to their facility. There were more people there. I didn’t get to meet any of them, but I saw them when I first walked in. I was the youngest. I didn’t like it.

They told me it was a simple test. They wanted to see my brain waves when I did puzzles. Then, they knocked me out, and now, it hurts. There’s a boy in the bed next to me. He stopped screaming a while ago. The nurses and doctors refused to come in while we were screaming, and he learned that the hard way.

By the time I stopped screaming, another person a few rooms over started. “I hate this. It hurts.”

“Tell me about it,” the boy said, turning to glare at me. “You didn't have someone next to you screaming their head off for the last hour.”

“My bad,” I sassed, looking over to meet his gaze. “By the sound of it, everyone reacts this way at first.”

“You’d be right about that one,” he laughed. “Last time a nurse came in here was to drop you off. That was a few hours ago.”

“How long have you been in here?”

“Since yesterday,” he signed, flipping over to his side. “Said I could leave this morning but never told me anything after that.”

“I’m sorry. Probably my fault. I’m (Y/N).”

“Or they’re just jerks,” he laughed again. “I’m Minho.”

~4 years later~

There was knocking. I was sure of it. A few minutes passed by before I heard it again. This time, I stood up to open my door only to find Minho leaning against the wall.

“Took you long enough, sweetcheeks,” he whispered.

“Are you insane?” I seethed, moving to pull him into my room. “Them WICKD workers could kill you for sneaking out.”

“Oh yeah?” He asked, rhetorically as he moved towards my bed. “What good’ll that do them? They need us.”

“Point is that they’re sticklers for rules, and one of the main rules is to not leave our rooms after lights out.”

“Again, what’ll they do? Kill me? Doubt that,” he smirked as he wrapped his arms around my waist to pull me down to the bed on top of him as he laid down. “Plus, I got news.”

“What kind of news?”

“Good news,” he smiles. “Everyone’s merging.”

“Like everyone everyone or most of us?”

“Well, obviously the golden four won't be with us, but I heard we’re gonna be allowed to eat together, go to classes together, and we’ll have roommates.”

“They would never room you with me,” I laughed at his statements. “They’ll stick you with Newt and me with Harriet.”

“Unless they group us in those two huge rooms by the stairs,” he offered. “Maybe they’ll split us into the groups they’re prepping us for.”

“If they do that, they’re probably going to split us by gender,” I countered. “I heard group A was going to be the guys and group B was the girls.”

“Well, I guess I’ll be sneaking into the girls’ room every night.”

“Take a lady to dinner first.”

“I literally eat with you at every meal!”

~4 years later~

I couldn’t sleep. I just couldn’t shut down. This room was too big, too echo-y. Every little sound caused anxiety to rise in my chest. I didn’t like this new room. I missed my isolated cell. I miss Minho randomly stopping by and talking for hours. It’s been years since the merge, but I still do not like it.

Then, I heard the door close. I pretended to be asleep, in fear of the WICKD guards catching me again. The footsteps echoed through the room, but they did not sound like the boots of other WICKD workers. They sounded like someone was being careful of where they were going like they were searching for someone.

“Pst,” they whispered. “I hate that you guys can’t stick with one format. Like they’re just beds! Why do you have to rearrange it so often?”

“Maybe you boys are just boring,” I laughed in response, immediately recognizing the voice as Minho. “Why do you come in here every night?”

“Maybe I just want to see you, sweetcheeks,” he teased as he continued to move around the room blindly until he tripped over something on the ground. “What's with all this clunk?”

“Shut up, Minho! If you want to hang with your girlfriend, take her out and let us sleep!” One of the girls exclaimed. With a groan, and probably an eye-roll, he got up and found my bed.

“Finally,” he let out a breath. “Now, you want to get out of here?”

“Take a lady to dinner first,” I laughed.

“What if I want our first date to be a walk in the park?” He offered before pausing, “or facility. We don't have a park.”

“What if I said yes?”

“Then, I will take you out right now.”

“Okay,” I giggled. “Let me grab a jacket and my shoes real quick.”

“Here,” he said, taking his hoodie off, revealing a long sleeve WICKD shirt underneath. He helped me put it over my head once I sat up in my bunk. “Take mine. I bet you’d look cute in it”

“Oh, smooth, Min,” I replied, sarcastically. “Now, lead the way.”

He grabbed my hand, pulling me out of the large room into the hallway where we met up with Alby.

“Took you bloody long enough,” Alby complained. “We almost got caught twice!”

“Didn’t take you as a stickler,” Minho shot back.

“Last I thought, you were just going in and getting the girl,” Alby laughed as he pushed himself up from where he was sitting on the floor. “Didn’t realize it’d take you 20 minutes.”

“Okay, shut up both of you,” I stated. “You need to pack your patience.”

“And you just got shut down by a girl,” Minho laughed. He pulled me along, leaving Alby behind. “Let’s go, you lazy shanks! We’re going to kidnap Thomas and Teresa.”

“That was the plan?” I wondered. “How are we going to get them to follow us?”

“Just say we found something cool,” Alby laughed. “They’re probably bored as heck in their rooms all day. They don’t get to see anyone besides the doctors and each other, so anything is better than nothing.”

“Exactly,” Minho agreed as we continued down the hallway towards their respective rooms that were at opposite ends of the hall. “We can also show them what WICKD is trying to get us to do. Show them what kind of experiments they are doing to us.”

“I’ll get Teresa, you guys get Thomas,” I said, stopping her room, as the others continue to the other end. I raise my hand to knock, and almost immediately, Teresa opens the door. “Come on. We’re gonna take a tour.”

“Anything to get out of this room,” she laughed, closing her door behind her, and we started heading down to Thomas’s room. “Do you know where?”

“Not exactly, but knowing the boys, it’s probably the ‘super-secret hiding place’ they found last week,” we laughed. “Did you get Thomas yet?”

“Yeah, he’s talking with Alby,” Minho answered, leading us over to the rest of the group. “Now, let’s go before someone sees us on the cameras.” Teresa walked ahead to meet up with the only other person she knew in the group while Minho and I stayed a few steps behind the rest. “Are we going to the place?”

“Yeah,” he responded, wrapping his arm around my shoulder. “We’re gonna show them exactly what they are feeding.”

“Is that so?” Another voice asked, causing us all to stop as another group of WICKD workers came out from behind the corner we were about to cross. “Why don’t we show you what we’re trying to do?”

Without an escape, we all follow the workers, and we are met by a few other people at the elevators. I could only recognize two of them: Dr. Paige and Chancellor Anderson.

“We are going to show you exactly what we are keeping you safe from,” Dr. Paige explained.

“Oh, we finally get to know what happens when someone gets the flare?” Minho exclaimed sarcastically. “I’m shaking in my boots.”

I turned to slap his arm as we got into the elevator and went down. Chancellor Anderson and Dr. Paige just shook their heads in response as we rode down in silence. We just awkwardly looked around at each other. Despite having done this many times, this is the only time we have been caught. Probably because this was the first time we brought Thomas and Teresa with us. Finally, after what felt like forever, we stopped at the last level. Dr. Paige led us out with Alby, Minho and I walking out first while Thomas and Teresa followed behind us with Chancellor Anderson after them.

We walked down a dimly lit hall to a large metal door at the end. Thomas and Teresa were taken another way with Chancellor Anderson doing who knows what. Once we approached the door, Dr. Paige turned to us slowly as one of the workers began opening the door. “This will, hopefully, put into perspective what our mission is, and why we do what we do.”

“Keep your mouth shut, Min, and let’s just get this over with,” I stated, turning to send a glare at Minho before moving to go into the room first. I am immediately met with a large room that looked like a forest. The next thing I noticed was the groans. I looked to the side to see Randall Spilker. He had black veins spreading around his body, blood flowing from his mouth, and the tips of his fingers were gone. “What happened to him?”

“The flare,” Randall answered. “Don’t you understand? This is what they are keeping you safe from. They are trying to keep you safe from people like me. To find a cure.”

“It’s not like we were going to leave,” Alby responds.

“Yeah, we were going to show Thomas and Teresa all the work they’ve been putting into this place,” Minho added. “We saw those huge areas you’ve been building, and wanted to show them what’s been going on.”

“Minho, respectfully, shut up,” I hissed. His big mouth was going to get us into more trouble than we already were.

“All I’m doing is defending us,” He responded.

“And because we want to get our message across, Minho, why don’t I show you around this room first?” Randall offered.

“Is that even safe?” I nearly shouted.

“We would never let the cranks harm any of you,” Dr. Paige said. “However, we will throw you in to understand them.”

Before Alby or I could register what Dr. Paige said, two other workers pulled us back out of the room, leaving Minho with the cranks. Out of the room, down the hallway, and back to the elevator; we were dragged. Once in the lift, the workers pulled out these syringes before plunging them into our necks

I wake with a start, tied down to a hospital bed in my old room. Thomas is next to me, shaking me awake. I groaned before squeezing my eyes closed to block out the white lights of the room. “What the shuck, Tom.” I slowly opened them again to take in the boy in front of me. He looked nothing like earlier. He looked a few years older. “How long was I out?”

“They’ve been keeping you in an induced coma for the past three years,” he explained. “They started sending people to the maze after you got caught. Alby went first, then Newt, Minho, Gally-”

“Hold up, what maze?” I was so confused. I could not register it all at once.

“The groups they separated us in. The gigantic structures in the basement. Those are mazes like the ones we did in class. They want to monitor our brainwaves to see if they can find a cure,” he explained once again.

“How do mazes and puzzles find a cure for a DNA-altering disease? Doesn’t that seem fishy to you?”

“That’s why I woke you up,” he whispered. “They don’t know. They gave me access to all floors and rooms once Teresa and I agreed to help them, and I need backup.”

“What kind of backup?”

“Okay, so I want you to find out exactly what they are doing with the tests,” he explained. “If anyone can figure it out, it’s you. Once you find the results and their intentions, we can get them out. You also need to hide from anyone besides me. Again, I’m the only one that knows you’re awake.”

“Got it.”

It has been a few weeks of me sneaking around the facility, taking notes on every little thing I believe would be helpful to Thomas. I have been writing as much as I could, sliding the pages under his door, and hiding in one of the back closets.

Today, I was going to try and get down to the basement to see the mazes. Looking over the building plans, there was a small passage from the stairs to a platform that looks over one of the mazes. By the looks of it, it should be an easy thing, especially at night.

It was nearing midnight, and I know the majority of the staff is off to bed. I make my way down the never-ending staircases to reach the last floor before turning off towards a door that leads to the passage. The narrow hallway twisted into a spiral staircase. Once I got to the top, I opened the door to see a gigantic enclosed yard.

“Holy crap,” I whispered to myself as I looked at the field. From where I was standing, I could see a few people walking around the perimeter, and in those people, I saw Minho. It was him, Newt, Alby, Ben, and Gally. I had no clue what they were talking about but they were laughing at something, then Alby slapped the back of Minho’s head. I jotted some notes about what the place looked like and what they were doing into the notebook I snagged from one of the supply closets. I hid the book in the back of my shirt and turned to leave, but the sound of the passage door locking.

I took off running down the normal entrance/ exit stairs despite knowing it would be completely open; if I was going to get caught, I needed to make sure Thomas knew what was going on in the mazes. I took off running up the stairs, hearing the pounding of multiple sets of footsteps following behind me. I took a shortcut up to Thomas’ room. I needed to get these to him without the guards noticing.

I turned the corner to his room before throwing the entire notebook under the door and taking off toward the only exit I knew of. As I got to the last door, I opened it using a key card I had stolen from a desk, but when the door opened, I was met by Janson.

“Who woke you up?” He teased me. “Last I checked, you were unconscious.”

“I woke up myself, Ratman,” I laughed in response. “Just you wait until I tell everyone in this facility exactly what you are doing with us. I saw those grievers. You are literally trapping us and not letting us leave! I have seen seven people get killed by those grievers directly, and another ten from getting stung. I will make sure that everyone knows about the cruel punishments you put us through!”

“Maybe, but you’re not going to remember what you saw,” he responded. I was not able to respond before a doctor came up behind me and injected me with something.

I couldn’t tell where I was. I couldn’t see, but I could tell that I was moving. Very fast at that. After my eyes adjusted to the dark area, I could make out that I was in a small room with boxes surrounding me. I went to go over to the crates but fell down as the room came to a sudden stop.

The top of the room opened, and I had to squint my eyes as the bright light evaded the area. Once I was able to see again, I noticed a group of guys huddled around the opening.

“What the shuck?” One said.

“Since when did they send girls here?” Another said.

“Oh great,” A third said with an eye roll, “stick her with Fry. I’m not dealing with her.”

“What is this place?” I asked. “Who are you?”

“You’ll learn with time, greenie,” The second guy said, jumping into the box. “I'm Alby. I run this place. It’s the Glade.”

“What did I miss?” A guy walked, more like limped, over from a building. “Wait, they sent a girl?”

“Yeah, Newt. What does that mean?” The first guy that spoke said.

“I don’t know,” Newt responded. He and the guy he was talking to walked over to the end, and the other jumped in with Alby and me while Newt stayed at the top.

“Minho, take her and show her around,” Alby commanded. Minho went to protest, but Alby stopped him. “Newt would, but his leg is still healing and walking ain’t doing him any good.”

“Fine, let’s go, greenie,” he huffed, climbing out of the box.

“Who are you calling greenie? What is a greenie?” I responded, following him out. “Last I checked my name was (Y/N).”

All of the guys gasped in surprise and started talking among themselves. Alby climbed out as well and pulled Newt into a side conversation while Minho just stared at me like I was crazy.

“You know your name? Already?” He asked, curious as to why the creators would send someone with at least partial memories.

“Yeah, you think I’m dumb?” I snapped.

“No, just no one remembers anything when they get here,” he snapped as well. “And until you can prove that you’re not useless, you’ll just be weak to me.”

It has been a few months in the glade. I have not remembered anything other than my name, but I moved past that in order to prove myself to these boys. The only people in this place that did not question my worth were Alby and Newt even though I have worked my way up to being a builder and occasional runner.

Minho had some weird vendetta against me. He thinks I am out to get him or something stupid like that. It’s almost like he doesn't understand that I am just doing my part.

“Why don’t you let the stronger guys take care of that,” Minho sneered, poking at the fact that I was carrying wood to the area where we would have the bonfire. “Look like you’re struggling there, shank.”

“Minho, respectfully, shut up,” I growled, “Let me do my job in peace. I don’t run into the maze to bug you.”

“Hmmm, yeah you do.”

“Not on days that I’m not allowed,” I snapped. “Even then I’m not near you and Ben. I’m off on my own.”

“Hey, (Y/N), get back to work,” Gally shouted, “Those logs ain’t gonna move themselves.”

I was about to respond when the box sounded that a new shipment was in as well as a new greenie. We all went to crowd around the box, and when it opened, I recognized the person. I could not say from where, but his face looked familiar. He didn’t give anyone a chance to say anything before he jumped out of the box and bolted towards the doors of the maze. Minho and I took after him, but we didn’t need to run for long as the greenie tripped. Once we got him into the slammer, I knew I wanted to talk to Alby about making him a runner.

“That’s a suggestion you need to bring up with Minho,” Alby said. “It’s his section.”

“You know he’d never listen to me,” I started. “Plus, he’d never let a newbie into the maze.”

“Here, we will have a meeting, and we’ll vote on it.”

“No.”

“We already voted, and we need more runners,” I reasoned. “You’re not even running with him. I’m the only one that doesn’t have a partner.”

“Still, I’m the keeper of the runners, so I get the final say, and I said no,” he said with a roll of his eyes. “Just let it go, and leave me alone.”

“I’ll leave you alone when you respect democracy, you slinthead.” I continued following him as we approached the bonfire. Gally was already throwing hands with Ben, Winston and Fry already had Gally’s concoction and Newt was talking with the greenie. “All I’m saying is to give him a chance.”

“Fine, he got one day to prove himself, and I’m not handling him, is that clear?”

“Crystal,” I spat with a tight-lipped smile before turning away from Minho to approach Newt and greenie. However, the greenie was being pulled into the ring by the time I got to them. I looked over to Newt to see him looking nervous. “This is initiation. He’ll be fine.”

“Were you able to talk sense into Minho?”

“Yup, he’s got one day to prove himself,” I stopped, hearing someone hit the dirt. I saw the new guy on the ground, but he did not get up right away. Just as Newt and I were about to react, he jumped up screaming his name.

“Thomas!” He exclaimed. “My name is Thomas!”

“Alright, Thomas,” I paused out of breath. We had just gotten closed into the maze with Minho and Alby. Minho and Alby ran together today since Ben was sung yesterday, but now, Alby was also stung. No one had ever been locked in the maze, and now the four of us had to survive together. “We just killed ourselves.”

“No, I’ve got an idea,” Thomas started.

“Thomas, no,” Minho snapped, propping Alby against the wall. “We are dead. There is no way we can survive the night with the grievers and Alby being stung. We. Are. Dead.”

“No, I have an idea. We could tie Alby to the vines and hang him up,” Thomas explained as he pointed up the wall. “We just need to work together.”

“Thomas, hate to break it to you, but Minho hates both of us,” I responded bluntly. “So while I might help and it might work, there is no way we would ever work together.”

With that, Thomas and I started wrapping the vines around Alby. We worked together to secure the vines and pull to hang him at a safe height. All the while, Minho sat and watched. Just as we finished, the sound of gears and scraping got louder, almost as if it were right around the corner. Once we secured Alby in the air, we took off in different directions instead of sticking together.

I could not tell how long I had been running, but eventually, I found a cliff and a small hiding place. I threw myself into the hole as the griever came around the corner. Thankfully, it did not see me, but another set of footsteps turned around the corner. It was Minho, but the next thing I knew, the griever was on top of him.

I did not really want to help him since he would not do the same if I was in his shoes, but I also could not let him just get stung. Thus, I jumbled out of the hole, grabbed a vine, and whipped it at the griever. “Over here, griever!” I shouted.

Minho had already been stung, but he looked over at me with a glazed look before passing out as the griever walked up to me.

“I clearly did not think this through,” I mumbled to myself as I took off running in the other direction. I, quite literally, ran into Thomas before scrambling to get up, pulling him with me. “Run!”

“What?” He trailed off but followed closely behind once he saw the griever on my tail. We ended up splitting up, me going right, and Thomas going left. I ended up doing a circle which worked out since I was able to get Minho hidden in the hole, so he would not die. He stirred as I dragged his body toward the hiding space, and he started mumbling pieces of a conversation but still not opening his eyes.

“Golden four,” he muttered. I listened curiously as there was a break, but he picked up after a second, almost as if he was having a real conversation. “Split us into groups…Sneaking into the girls’ room every night…I literally eat with you at every meal.”

That last sentence sparked something in my mind, it was like the floodgates opened, and it’s like I could remember most of my life before this maze. I do not remember specifics, but I do remember running around a huge facility with a small group of people. There were three boys, Newt. Alby and Minho, and one girl. We would cause trouble in the cafeteria, roan the halls, and run from guards. That was about as specific as I could get.

Leaving Minho where he was, I took off to find Thomas. Finding him relatively quickly with a griever pinning him down, I grabbed a vine yet again to whip at the machine. This time, instead of it just coming back at me, the vine wrapped itself around the legs of the griever and tripped it. Thomas scrambled from underneath it to stand beside me as the griever began tearing through the vines. It stood menacingly in front of us before, almost like a switch, just turning around, and leaving us without a thought.

“Minho got stung,” I told him as we started walking back to the doors. “I hid him.”

“Why would you do that? Not to be mean or anything, but you guys hate each other," Thomas asked as we dragged Minho out of the hiding spot. “He would’ve just let you did probably.”

“Regardless of our hatred, I am not letting anyone die in this maze. Not on my watch,” I replied seriously as we approached the doors that were just opening. We propped Minho against the wall as we got Alby down. Thomas carried Alby while I dragged Minho closer to the doors as they finished opening, and every glader was standing, waiting for us. I leaned closer to Thomas, whispering, “I’m not a monster.”

~~ It’s been nearly a week since we got out of the maze. Three days since we got out of the glade. Minho and Alby survived, but Gally and Chuck died on our way out. Now, we were all separated, well most of us were. The boys got to stick together, and Teresa and I stuck together. I’ve got a bad feeling about her, but I’m apparently the only one.

Minho, on the other hand, has been avoiding me like the plague. I know he’s asking about me because Thomas and Newt still talk to me, but anytime Minho sees me around them, he turns the other way. I want to know what he remembered, but I know that is something he would never tell me.

One night, I got curious. I wanted to know where the “safe” people were going, so I stole a key card and snuck through the vents to reach the backrooms. I was not expecting to see hundreds of teenagers strung up, hooked up to a multitude of machines. I found a couple of loose guns, so I grabbed those, hoping the guys would bust out with me. If not, oh well, I have a weapon now. I crawled through the vents to reach the boys’ room. I heard them talking quietly, so I waited for a break in the conversation.

“You’re not making any sense,” Newt said. “What do you mean you remember her?”

“When I got stung, I remembered a conversation and we were talking about a merge,” Minho explained. “Like I think we were here for a long time and then the WICKED people put us into the groups. Y’know, Group A and Group B, but she should’ve been in Group B. Why was she in our group?”

“We do not have time to focus on that,” Thomas reasoned. “We need to figure out exactly how you know Y/n and how we get out of here. Seriously, I have a bad feeling.”

“I think we were together,” Minho mumbled. The rest of the guys gasped, and I let out one quietly to myself. None of them heard it as they continued the conversation. “I don’t know what to think.”

“Well, how do you feel?” Newt pressed. “You wouldn’t be so caught up if you didn’t feel something for her.”

“Maybe I do!” Minho exclaimed. “She literally saved my life, but she hates me.”

“Minho, trust me,” Thomas speaks up, “she does not hate you. When she was talking about saving you in the maze, she did not look like she hated you. There’s no way.” It went silent for a while, so I decided to put aside my shock and make an appearance. I knocked on their vent. I could hear them jump before Thomas lifted it. “Oh, what’re you doing here?”

“You won’t believe me, but we need to get out of here. Now,” I pressed. “They’re stringing us up. There is no safe haven. They’re killing us.”

Running through the halls with Ratman chasing me did not bring up the best memories. I remembered waking up after Minho was sent up to the maze, and Thomas recruited me. Not the best time, but I pushed through. At one point, I tripped. I thought I was dead. However, to my shock, someone stopped.

“You’re not dying on me. I won’t let you go now that I remember,” Minho. It was Minho. It’s always been Minho.

~~~ Part 2 ->

~~~~~

#the maze runner #tmr minho x reader #tmr minho #the maze runner x reader #the maze runner minho #the maze runner minho x reader #bad268 #ship268 #thing268

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elvisabutler · 2 years

Text

good ole fashioned spanking

summary: you test elvis's patience at a party. he reminds you what should happen to bad kittens when they do things like that. fandom: austin butler | elvis 2022 | elvis presley pairing: austin butler elvis x gender neutral reader rating: m word count: 1393 warnings: spanking. mild daddy kink implication. mild dom and sub implication. copious use of the word kitten to refer to the reader. elvis's anger problems. elvis's possessiveness. unhealthy bdsm in relation to the spanking. use of spanking as a punishment. coming in one's pants. there is a hint of aftercare mentioned. author's note: welcome to day 23 of kinktober, spanking with austin elvis. i see 60s hollywood austin elvis with his or 60s elvis with this. pick whoever you want, i'm easy. been a while since i wrote spanking but i'm fond of this piece to be honest. also if you saw me post this twice, blame tumblr and their tag problem. i know this still isn't in the tags but i'm not redoing this again.

"I spoil you too goddamn much." Elvis mutters as he pulls you along through the crowd of people. "Only explanation for this nonsense you wanna pull. Draping yourself over every goddamn person in that room. Every single person had you in their lap except me. And you came there with me. Wouldn't be in here if it wasn't for me. spoiled brat thinking you can tease a man like that. Thinkin' you can tease me like that."

You're no stranger to Elvis's mercurial moods and his possessive nature- his possessive streak that can circle the globe. But this, oh this time you might have pushed him too far. There's always a hint of affection in his eyes when he's angry, when he's been like this before but looking at them now you are reminded of a raging storm at sea. Staring at those eyes makes you think of drowning and you're not sure if you can handle it, if you can pull yourself out from that potential whirlpool.

"Elvis." You say, trying to pull him close to you, trying to calm him down. "You were-"

"What?" He hisses, his hand moving to grasp your chin, forcing you to stare him down. "I was what, baby? Busy making sure you're taken care of? Making sure no one's out to get us? Let's hear what excuse you've got for being a brat."

He's right, you are a brat and it always shows in situations like this. In situations where you should be a good kitten you do the exact opposite. This time is no exception.

"You weren't paying attention to me. You took me there and left me alone. Had all those people hanging off of you, hanging onto you like they're taking you home. At least everyone who I touched wanted to touch me. They wanted to take me home." You pause, watching his nostrils flare and his brow furrow. "Maybe I should have let them."

Elvis's grip on your chin tightens momentarily before he lets go, and practically snarls the second you both reach your bedroom. The force he uses to open the door startles you just enough to make you jump. You know he won't hurt you, he never would but this reaction is something entirely foreign to you. He drops your hand as he shuts the door. "The hell you should have. You're mine and you know this. Ya know none of them can do the things I do for ya." He moves to grab your hand again, pulling you to the bed as he sits down on it. "Over my knee."

"No." Your answer is quick, practically spat out as you realize what he's about to do. "You're not about to-"

"Spank you?" He asks, his chest heaving in frustration. "Oh yes I am, you're acting like a brat, you're gonna get treated like one. Ya need to be taught a lesson and I'm 'bout to teach it to ya."

Before you get another word in, Elvis manages to get you into his lap, your ass in the air as he pulls down your pants. "Would've done this with the pants on but ya wanted it like this. Gonna get it like this."

Your body shivers involuntarily at the gust of air and you find a hint of arousal curling in the pit of your stomach. This should not turn you on and yet you find that it is especially after the first smack of his hand. His hand should have more rings on it, you know this but you figure the pause in when he pulled you onto his lap and when he spanked you was filled with him taking them off leaving only one on his middle finger. His hand moves back and falls down on your ass once again earning a choked off sound from your mouth. You think it was supposed to be a breath.

"Count." His voice comes out a low rumble, using a register you didn't know he possessed and his hand feels like a cool balm on your ass that feels as if it's on fire just after two hits. You have to bite your lip to keep a moan from escaping.

His hand comes down again and you grunt, your arousal becoming more intense. "Three."

Another smack. "You gonna throw yourself at people again, kitten?"

"Four." The number comes out as a whimper before you shake your head. "If you ignore me I will."

"Wrong answer." He growls and you swear you can feel the vibration through your soul as he brings his hand down once and twice before giving you a chance to say the number.

"Five. Six." Your hips move against his thighs, trying to gain friction, any kind of friction to alleviate your problem. "I'm yours but you didn't-"

He smacks your ass once more as you moan midway through your sentence. "Got ya ruttin' against me. Ya like this? Want me to spank you more often? You gonna come without me touching you?"

"Seven." You choke the number out, tears forming in your eyes. "I don't know. I-" You feel his hand gently stroking your ass before he raises his hand again and the sound of his skin hitting yours echoes in the room. "Eight, Elvis."

"Two more, kitten. Just two more and I think you'll have learned ya lesson." He murmurs, leaning forward as you continue to rut against him. His hand moves between your legs to discover just how aroused you are and groans before he smacks you yet again. "Oh ya gonna be the death of me. Gonna fuck you after this. Even if ya come, gonna have sex with you after this."

The desire to come is threatening to overwhelm you, threatening to force you into doing just that. You know Elvis won't appreciate it, won't approve of it but it's getting so hard as you get the friction you need and with his hand swatting you. It takes you a minute to say the next number, your head starting to loll down into Elvis's lap fully. "Nine." Your voice is practically a whisper and a whimper all at once.

"Atta kitten. One more and you can come. One more and you'll say you're sorry won't you." His voice sounds like it's in a tunnel but you get the gist of it, hearing the words come and sorry. It makes you shudder in his lap as he finally gives you a final slap. "Come for me."

"Ten!" You shout as you come almost instantaneously after what sounded like an order. It's never happened before but neither has this. Your body shakes as you come down from your high and as you feel Elvis stroking your now throbbing backside as he sees your release on his pant legs.

"Goddamn, kitten. Look at the mess you made. Gonna have to change my pants if we head back out to that party." His hand never leaves your backside, still stroking it as he takes his free hand to get you to look up at him. "You alright?"

A hum leaves your lips as you nod. Your behind stings something fierce but that was an orgasm you didn't think you were capable of having let alone with the promise of more to come. Elvis pulls you up into a sitting position and frowns as he sees you wince as you sit down. "Got some lotion for that in the bathroom." He gets up to go grab the lotion and a new pair of pants for you. He turns in the bathroom doorway, watching you as you watch him go and get the items. "You sorry about tonight?"

"I am." You whisper as you focus on breathing and not crying from the increasing pain.

Elvis's frowns only deepens when he reaches you after grabbing the lotion to help your backside feel less raw. He has you lay on the bed before rubbing it in soft circles, making sure to not miss a spot. His lips move to kiss your neck as he murmurs in your ear. "Such a good kitten. You still want more tonight?"

Your answer takes a while to form in your head as he continues to place light kisses against the back of your neck. When you finally do it's simple and just one word.

"Please?"

#austin butler elvis x you #austin butler elvis #austin butler elvis smut #austin butler elvis x reader #austin butler elvis fanfic #austin butler #elvis presley #elvis presely smut #elvis presley x reader #elvis presley fanfic #ally's kinktober 2022 #kinktober 2022 #ally writes #austin butler elvis x y/n

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v3nusxsky · 2 years

Note

Hii can i ask for a fluffy lady lesso x reader where they're dating and r is a professor and has psychosomatic pain in her knee, when she's grading tests and gets overly stressed out, her knee pain flares, Leo notices and makes r rest while giving them a massage and kisses and hugs and make it really really fluffy and comforting?

It hurts

*Authors note~ this was perfect to write in my current situation in the middle of a flare up of my chronic pain condition*

Trigger warning~ chronic pain condition, stressed pain

Prompt ~ see ask^^^^

You thought you'd be fine. You thought it had finally eased up on you, after all you hadn't had a flare up in months. It was only natural to assume that were safe for a little while. But apparently your body had other ideas. You'd been dealing with the pain in your knee for years, no doctor could work out what was causing it, they resulted to telling you it was all in your mind. After all, no tests were concluding the symptoms you were experiencing, nothing made sense and that is what made it even more frustrating.

Your girlfriend probably understood you more than most, Rafal had damaged her knee a few years ago in the final battle, he tired to completely wipe out good and allow Evil to win. Your girlfriend had fought valiantly and was incredibly lucky to be here to tale the tale. It was that battle, that caused you to admit your love for the Dean. You tried to push your pain away, and helping your girlfriend adjust to life with her cane. So much so you neglected your own pain.

Truthfully you were too damn busy to even register the warning signs, your usual routine of gently massaging ointment into your knee to help relieve the aches there, every night. Yet recently you were too exhausted to complete it. Maybe that explains why it's so bad now. You were attempting to grade your students work but the pain was distracting you making the simple task difficult for you. Still you reached your left hand to gently rub at your knee willing the painkillers you'd taker previously to work, even just a little bit more. Unfortunately, you truly weren't that lucky.

You told Leonora you'd be in your office tonight having to grade recent papers, she said it was all okay and if she needed you she would find you. After all you'd been neglecting your work in favour for caring for her. So that is how she found you, sat at your desk scribbling on the pieces of parchment with a grimace on your face. Your were so distracted by the pain and the work that you didn't even realise your girlfriend had joined you. The little frustrated grunts and whimpers were becoming a lot more frequent when she decided to announce her presence.

"Dove?" She murmured gaining your attention, "is it hurting you? She asked knowingly. All you could do is whimper and nod, "it's a little sore darling, I'll be okay how's your knee" you whimpered hoping to redirect the conversation from you to her. After all you wanted to help her, your pain could always wait. But Leonora was nothing but smart she saw what you tried to do so decided to take some control over the situation and your stubbornness. She made her way to you, taking your hand to lead you to the small sofa in your office. Once you were settled she magically got the ointment you used and moved your dress to expose your swollen knee. "Oh dove, how long has it been like this?" She murmured gently tracing your knee cap. "Mhm while" you mumbled getting lost in the soothing feeling for her fingers.

Leonora slipped into position where your knee was elevated over her good one and she could gently massage the areas that where causing you pain. Your happy whimpers were all the encouragement she needed to know this was helping. Your eyes had closed as you just soaked in the feeling of the pain retreating. Ever the diligent lover, she made sure to shower you in comforting words and praises as well as softly yet firmly reminding you to not ignore your own needs.

Once your ointment had been absorbed into your skin, she moved gently to hold you. Sweet kisses were pressed into your hair as she cooed at you, "pretty, you are truly something. You ignored your pain to help me and as much as I appreciate it dove you need to care for you too. Thank you for letting me help you tonight now rest darling, did you take painkillers?" You nodded in confirmation you did indeed take painkillers which would explain your sleepy state now. Pain finally subsided your exhaustion catching on you. She held you and stroked your cheeks or side, dropping kisses to your head. That's how you fell asleep and truly you didn't need anything more than what she had given you. It was perfect.

Word count~ 848

#fanfic #lady lesso #anon answered #sfgae #leonora lesso #lady lesso x reader #lady lesso x you #leonora lesso x reader #lady leonora lesso #lesso x reader #anon requested

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thedo0zyslider · 1 year

Text

Sweet Exchanges - 2k words

A storm is coming, and it brings a certain archeologist to Oli’s doorstep. Not that he's complaining.

A03 Link

The sun was unusually tame that day, Oli found. It wasn’t radiating as much heat as it normally did, particularly because it was starting to be covered by a handful of light gray clouds. Oli really, really hoped there wouldn’t be a storm. Storms weren’t particularly great when you lived on a beach, especially bad ones. So if the gods wanted to curse him today, he hoped it would be with a calm one. He was still cross about having to fix and remake all of his outdoor decorations after the last bad one.

He spent a few hours like that, working himself into a tizzy over a storm that might not even happen. And if you asked him, the storm came before the rain that day, and it came in the form of a very familiar man jumpscaring him and bloody laughing about it.

Pixlriffs himself had showed up, right when Oli had worried himself so much that he was now beginning to move anything that would fit inside his main tent. The archaeologist had appeared behind him out of nowhere, which was something the man had a talent for. The bard had jumped maybe a foot in the air, screaming about god knows what, when Pix leaned down and whispered “boo” in his ear while his mind was elsewhere.

“PIXL!” He shrieked, growing a little more indignant at the laughter flooding the air. “What was the bloody point of that!?” The blonde yelled further, throwing his arms up into the air.

It took that dastardly man a whole two minutes to respond; he was laughing so hard, damn him. “Sorry,” Pix wiped the beginning of tears from his eyes. “You’re just really easy to scare.”

“That doesn’t mean you get to do it!” Oli huffed, playing up his earlier indignation for the dramatics. He crossed his arms over his chest for extra flare, sleeves that were slightly too puffy being pressed down against the front of his bard’s shirt.

“Sorry again,” The brunette repeated, and Oli gave a rather drawn out shrug and eye roll as a response.

“Well,” He sighed, noticing how the corners of Pix’s lips quirked upwards slightly. “You just sound so genuine, so i guess it’s fine,” Oli smiled--almost smirked--as he got in the other’s personal space, having to strain upwards slightly. Whoever granted Pixl almost a whole half foot of height on him should be fired, but that was just a personal opinion.

“I’m glad my apology is accepted,” Pix returned his little smirk, clasping his hands together behind his back. Daro brown eyes filtered to the beach behind him, and the archaeologists gaze had a familiar look of muddled curiosity to it once more. “What were you doing over there, exactly?” He asked, taking a good few moments to scan over the scene behind them.

“Oh, you mean the thing you so rudely interrupted?” That earned a small, yet amused eye roll from Pix. “Just a little worried about a storm,” The bard began to explain, making a general hand gesture at the gray clouds forming above him. “I was trying to move some stuff inside, and I was almost done before a certain man showed up!”

“Want any help?” Pix asked, once again looking at the bard's stuff with a mild curiosity.

“Oh, you’re too kind Pixlriffs!” Oli exclaimed, throwing him part of the fences that had once kept his dragon egg over the fire. He didn’t really need to keep anything roasting anymore, but kept it around for aesthetic reasons mostly. Pix caught it easily, and apparently it wasn’t heavy enough for him because he picked up the other end before the bard could. Fine, he wants a strength test? Then he’ll get a strength test! Oli thought, adding his heaviest instrument to the load as well.

He instructed Pixl which chest they were to be stored in for the time being, before leaning back against his tent’s side to watch. The brunette lifted his things with ease though, gently putting them on the ground like they were exhibants at his museum. Oli had never really noticed how strong Pix was, but he supposed it made sense. The man was restoring a whole empire and had probably done his fair share of heavy lifting in the process.

Eyes traced over the archaeologist's muscles as he put the last item away, eventually moving downwards to his chest area. The front of the dark blue shirt was always unbuttoned, but just enough to reveal a small amount of its wearer’s chest. Oli had thought it was kinda slutty before, and very alluring. His eyes wandered to that spot more often that he’d like to admit, Pix usually making no comment if he noticed.

But today the archaeologist glanced back at him and smirked, an expression Oli did not like one bit. “See something you like?” Pixl asked, his voice becoming more deep and smooth than it usually was. He smirked at the flush that was spreading across pale cheeks at his words.

“Maybe..” The bard muttered, turning his back on the other to pop his head outside. More storm clouds had formed, ones that were darker than their predecessors. Oli frowned at this, glad he’d moved his stuff inside early.

“You were right,” A voice was suddenly right beside him, the sound of Pix’s quiet breaths in his ear. He hadn’t even heard him move. “A storm is coming.”

Oli glanced over his shoulder, failing to hide how startled he now was. Pix was bold today, wasn’t he? The brunette was standing behind him, chest pressed against the upper part of his back a little. If the archaeologist were to move his head slightly it would be resting on his shoulder, which Oli found when he turned his head to meet the man’s teasing gaze. Hands hesitated above his waist, as if Pix was unsure about resting them there.

“You’re quite close there, Mr. Riffs.” The blonde said quietly, almost bumping his nose with Pix’s. Hands finally went to rest on his sides, their soft touch burning. (Burning in the way that made Oli want more.) This was far too close to be anything platonic, but Oli didn’t mind. He was just leaning into the slutty bard persona, nothing more, nothing less. There certainly weren't any real feelings at stake here.

“And you’re not complaining about it,” Pixl watched as Oli moved his head away a little. He smirked as the tent’s entrance was zipped. It wasn’t closed fully, just enough to keep the coming rain out. Certainly wasn’t closed for privacy reasons either, though it would be embarrassing to be caught like this. For both of them, not just the bard, though Pixl dealt with his shame more quietly than the blonde did.

The next thing he knew Oli was pressing him into the floor, his bottom landing a little roughly against the tents flooring. The archaeologist was now being straddled near the back wall of Oli’s home, plush thighs pressing nicely against his own. The bard’s hands flailed uselessly for a moment, before pinning his wrists down against his side.

"Maybe I like being close to you, ever consider that?" Oli's voice is quieter than it had been a moment ago as he leaned forward. A few of his bangs began to fall, covering his half lidded eyes slightly. Pix knows he shouldn't do this, really knows that whatever is going through his head is a bad idea, but nevertheless he goes against his better judgment for the third time that day, suspecting he'll do the same again later. He gently brushes the hair out of Oli's face, and tucks it behind an ear. It would be a crime to have such pretty eyes hidden, after all.

Pix smiles softly at the reaction he gets, enjoying the faint redness that returns to Oli's cheeks. The bard really is quite a pretty man, if you take the time to admire him that is.

"You are such a tease," The blonde huffs, blush spreading to his neck as Pix tucks his hair away again. He unpins the brunette's wrists, going to wrap his arms around the other's neck instead. For now Pixl keeps his arms where they are, awkwardly against his side and hands fiddling on the floor beneath them.

"I know," Pix smiles again, leaning forward on nothing but an impulsive thought. And to his absolute delight, he is meet in the middle by warmer lips than his own.

Oli sighs into the kiss, smooth lips capturing his own slowly, a nice contrast to his own lips; which were surely a little chapped by now. He leaned into the action a little too quickly though, and was almost surprised at the softness of it all. Kissing Pix was nice, just a little unexpected is all.

Pix wasn’t a bad kisser, not in any form. This was just much more…gentle than previous kisses Oli had experienced. The bard had experienced a fair share of kisses, and all had ended up being more on the fiery side, so much so Oli didn’t think he’d ever been kissed calmly in his life. The archaeologist might have his flirtatious moments sometimes, but he’d never quite fit the criteria of passionate, so the more gentle approach didn’t come as a big surprise. Oli didn’t mind it though, he didn’t mind the softness at all, it was something he could be glad to get used to. He let Pixl gently cup the side of his face, cradling it as if it was the most precious thing in the world and thumbing his cheek. And oh, he could definitely get used to being held like this.

A half gloved hand came to rest on the bard’s waist, clutching it just as gently as the other hand was holding his face. Oli smiled softly against the others lips, letting a tongue quietly slip into his mouth and explore it for a little while. Hands tangled into soft brown hair, pulling Pix closer to their owner until the former’s back was bumping against a tent wall. As far as first kisses went, this was probably the best one Oli had ever had. And if they didn’t need to breathe he was sure he would’ve had it for a few minutes more.

They pulled apart slowly at first, neither quite registering the need for air. More kisses were exchanged, some led by Oli, some not. They were small ones, not as long as the first one they shared, but long enough to steal a few puffs of breath from both of them. Small pecks were pressed to faces in between, to Oli’s cheeks and freckles, to Pix’s nose and right under where his glasses rested. The bard was quite enjoying the other’s tongue in his mouth, and a very big part of him wanted to get used to that as well.

The kisses that were eventually pressed to his neck weren’t pressed hard enough to even bruise, and the motion didn’t have a hungry air to it either. They were loving, the kisses were. They were akin to the casual pecks someone placed upon their partner's skin during lazy mornings. Everything about it was warm and gentle and kind, just like Pixl himself.

The two stopped kissing eventually; the archaeologist laughing at the small, playful and ultimately meaningless pout Oli shot him. The bard stopped pouting when a few more kisses were pressed into his hair, a giggle running through the man behind him. It was a nice laugh, Pix’s laugh, he wanted to hear it more. He didn’t have to wait long for that though, as another escaped Pix when Oli shifted into his lap like a cat would, practically begging for cuddles.

“You comfortable?” Pix asked, not trying to hide the fondness in his voice. Oh, he was very gone for this man.

“Very,” Oli muttered sleepily, burying his slightly blushing face into the blue fabric of Pixl’s shirt. Pix laughed again, and it was then that the bard registered that it had begun to rain at some point after they entered the tent. It seems that storm had come after all, just thankfully not as bad as the Oli’d been fearing. Well then, it’s a good thing he’d made this place waterproof, wasn’t it?

Pix’s arms tightened around the smaller person in his arms, listening to Oli’s breathing even out, and to the rain. He buried his own head against the other, nuzzling at the bard’s shoulder affectionately. The archaeologist didn’t do things like this very often, so he was treasuring every second of this, unsure when he’d experience anything close to it again. He wanted more, he wanted it to happen soon. And sitting there like this, against his better judgment, Pix began to hope for it. It was becoming a yearning, the longer he dwelled on it, so he didn’t dwell.

Instead the archaeologist let his breathing even out, falling asleep with a bard who was far too cute for his own good clutched lovingly in his arms. He wasn’t sure if they’d speak of this come morning, or if it’d be another thing he’d have to preserve in his memory for the rest of time. But that was a problem for morning Pix.

And morning Pix got what he was yearning for. More sleepy cuddles, more sleepy kisses (these ones were more sloppy though, kisses where you missed half the other person's mouth,) and a a quiet conformation that there would be even more in the future. For however long this world would last, as Oli had somewhat ominous phrased it.

For however long this world shall last, you are love.

#ron.fic #pix x oli #pixlriffs #oli theorionsound #do they have a ship name #empires smp #empires s2 #empiresblr #empiresshipping #empires pix #empires oli #olipix

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ijustthinkhesneat · 1 year

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I’m back and with a vengeance!

It’s ya boy Dicks turn. I’ve reflected on my relationship with canon and decided I don’t have one so if people feel like it’s ooc, then your probably right and you can fight me in the Denny’s parking lot.

Age: I am a firm believer that Dick is in his early twenties so like 22.

Got adopted by Bruce at 9-10 and had his rebellious faze around 16.

Gender: Male, he/him pronouns

Sexuality: This man is pansexual I’m sorry but it’s the truth.

Ethnicity: Romani. DICK GRAYSON IS A PERSON OF COLOR SAY IT LOUD FOR THE PEOPLE IN THE BACK.

Favorite food: Cereal. I firmly believe that Dick can cook but simply chooses not too.

-Dick has ADHD, this man is hyperactive, has the attention span of a mushroom and is constantly stimming. Like your trying to tell me he bends himself into all these wacky shapes just for fun exercise? Wrong, he’s fidgeting and just has the range.

-Dick practices gymnastics to work off all his excess energy.

-I also headcanon that Dick has Joint hypermobility syndrome. He didn’t get treated for it until he moved in with Bruce because everyone just thought he was a really good circus kid. Bruce figured it out when he realized Dick had trouble writing and and doing precise actions with his hands. Dick went to occupational therapy for a few years after that.

- This is all to say Dick has a Superman themed hand splint he uses when he needs to write for long periods.

- Dick slowly drifting away from Bruce happened a lot less violently than in canon for me for a few reasons. One I think Bruce is a better parent here and is a lot less emotionally neglectful of Dick and treats him with more respect. Relatively speaking, Bruce is still a broody emotionally constipated emo. Instead I think a lot of it has to do with the teenage desire for freedom, Dick had a really mutable life in Hally’s circus where he was meeting all different kinds of people and traveling all over the place, but now is has a much more structured lifestyle and he wants to push the boundaries. The other reason is because I don’t like DC making Bruce ✨physically abusive✨.

- I think their first big fight is when dick decides to really test the limits by sneaking out to go to a concert, he ends up having a few drinks and smoking some cigarettes. When he got back to the manner Bruce was freaking out. They end up having a screaming match about being responsible and Dick feeling like Bruce is too controlling.

- In reality before Dick got back Bruce was having a full blown panic spiral because he thought one of the rogues captured Dick.

- The fight that actually causes Dick to finally run away is one night Bruce finds him having a moment with another boy from Gotham Academy. A lot of Bruce’s repression, trauma from his childhood and internalized homophobia flares up and he says some cruel things to Dick. Bruce goes up to Dicks room an hour later to apologize to him but his room is already empty.

- Dick spends the next year primarily with the Titans, sometimes he calls Alfred. Bruce tries to contact him many times but Dick ignores him. After this he moves to bloodhaven and becomes Nightwing. Dick learns that Batman has a new Robin and is furious.

-When he goes back to the manner he comes in swinging. He immediately tries to pick a fight with Bruce and starts yelling, this ends up scaring Jason that he hides in the library. Dick learns that Bruce is in therapy to unpack his trauma and Dick leaves.

- The first night Dick spends at the manner is a few months later, his relationship with Bruce is still bad buts he’s willing to tolerate him now at least. In the morning he finds a stick figure drawing that was slid under his door while he slept showing him and Jason holding hands. Dick decides if he can’t repair his relationship with his dad coworker for himself he could for this kid.

- Sometimes Dick let’s Jason sleep at his apartment on the weekends and teaches him French. Their relationship isn’t perfect but Dick grows to love his little brother.

-Then Jason goes off the grid and Dick learns about Jason’s death. Jason’s funeral is the first time Dick calls Bruce dad again.

- I think that Dick warmed up a lot to Bruce and really supported Tim I’m becoming the next Robin. I think he tried to keep his emotional distance but ultimately really warmed up to Tim when he asked Dick to teach him gymnastics to improve his acrobatic skills.

- When Damian shows up I think Dick is really conflicted because while he is internally excited about having a new baby brother he will never get over the trauma of losing Jason so he’s really on guard.

- Dick feels his big brother instincts kick in when he sees some other boys bullying Damian because he isn’t white.

-When Cass shows up Dick has fully given up on resisting the urge to baby his siblings. He helps her practice ballet and they have flexibility contests.

- Dick is in a throuple with Kory and Wally, sorry I don’t make the rules just serve them up.

- When Jason comes back I think Dick is hit almost as hard as Bruce. Dick first runs into Jason one on one After the events of under the Red Hood, and sees Jason kill someone. Dicks brain kind of short circuits because he is watching something terrible but on the other hand Jason is still baby brother shaped in his mind.

- Jason finally starts talking to Dick again when he breaks into Dicks apartment to snoop and sees that Dick keeps the drawing Jason gave him framed in his bed room.

Trigger warning for the next part: SA/R*pe

- Dick getting assaulted by tarantula was really changed Dick. Like obviously it would, but DC never talks about it so I will. After Tarantula, Dick started self isolating, he wouldn’t leave his apartment for days on end. Feel water on him was a big trigger so he started to even avoid showering. Eventually Kory and Wally found him and brought him to the manor.

-His recovery was really slow going and years of undiscussed objectification, mind control, memory loss and sexual harassment had left Dick with a terrible self image. But the batfam really pulled together to support him. Bruce even convinced him to go to therapy. He’s getting better day by day.

Okay this was so long and basically just evolved into a story outline, promise I’ll try to reign it in next time.

#dick grayson #bruce wayne #nightwing #trauma #headcanon #batfam #Jason Todd is a real one #Jason is lowkey dicks favorite

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mywheelieweirdlife · 2 years

Text

So I have been terrified of needles most of my life.

To the point where my biggest fear with transitioning was the number of blood tests and shots, hence starting with gel.

Well since getting covid in August, I have had really shit lung capacity and my brain and memory is shit. My stutter is also so much worse and I'm constantly slurring my words to the point we occasionally question if I may have actually had a stroke sometimes... but that's not actually the point of this post even tho it does add to it.

I'm about to start shots. Because my memory after having covid is so bad that I can never remember if I've taken my testosterone via gel, that every few months I now get to have one of my partners hold me while I have a mild panic attack about a needle being stabbed in my ass for a few minutes so that I can actually continue to transition.

My brain capacity no longer really exists, I'm moving in about 9-12 weeks to somewhere more accessible and manageable for me where I will have an office space and more time and energy to write my book on accessibility and sex (which has ended up becoming more of a sex education book for at least the first few chapters because when asking non-disabled friends their thoughts to see where peoples brains went I realised that abled bodied people don't know or understand basic anatomy or the brain and I realised that I was putting too much faith in public education); as well as starting to work on new health routines to try and improve some things that I might be able to fix.

But seeing covid not taken seriously again as I'm here fighting for the hope of functioning or the ability to tell my partners that I love them and why without stuttering or being so unable to get the words out I end up crying in frustration and giving up and just eventually texting it after looking up different ways of saying what I kinda want to say and using that to get the wording that works... not even the wording I want because that's usually too much, just what works.

And my words being so frustrating they bring me to tears isn't new... but that used to be stutter frustration and usually it was just one or two words that I couldn't get.

This is genuinely feeling similar to when I was freshly dealing with amnesia in 2018 and I couldn't remember things at all and there were just blank spots. But instead of being my memories, it's my everything.

And it's so fucking hard.

Covid isn't a curse that I would wish on anyone because for me it was like a flu where I just felt like something was more wrong than normal and then afterwards my body kept going and suddenly everything was burnt to the ground.

My language skills, my ability to understand words, to speak, to write efficiently (I know I can still kinda manage on my good days like today but these are rare af and I'm only here today because my partner has put a lot of effort in to help me the last few weeks) and to do my basic levels of work and care.

And it hit like a month later.

I thought it was a flare but then the flare didn't go away and I was trying to work it out and a friend very lovingly pointed out I've been like this ever since then seizure that hospitalised me after I'd had covid.

I'm a performer and artist; losing my voice is my biggest fear and I'm living it. I'm also constantly confronted with my other fears because of this.

Extra needles because I can't take meds normally anymore, heights because I constantly need to be picked up and the people in my life who can lift me are all (roughly) 6ft giants and I'm 5'ft (ish) and really don't like loss of control, and being seen and being naked in a vulnerable position… well guess who's had to accept help showering and has had to actually let someone see what it looks like for me to navigate my room without legs because I was paralysed and they were on a video call and couldn't help me right at that moment and I really really just wanted to feel a tad more human.

I genuinely would only wish this on one person I've ever known and that is the same person I would light on fire if the purge was real. And even then I feel it would be extreme even for my sense of justice.

Basically; the pandemic isn't over, wash your hands, wear your masks, social distance and get vaccinated if you can. Stay home if you're sick and don't be an ass to people who are trying their best to also not get sick.

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stegrossaurus · 2 years

Text

May-Tov Corporation

by Violet

It doesn’t hurt too bad when I wake up. I tell myself that I must be getting better, but deep down, I don’t think that’s true. It took me hours to get to sleep last night. Hours of squirming around trying to get comfortable, waiting for my heart rate to go down, struggling to fill my lungs. I was hoping that Rita wouldn’t notice, but of course she did.

“Vi, have you thought about seeing the doctor yet?” she asks as I get breakfast ready. There’s already a stitch in my side, but Barbie and Jack will be up soon.

“I’m sure I’m fine, Rita,” I say. “The doctor will probably just tell me to cut our greasy foods.” I’ve actually already done that. The chest pain and breathing problems stopped for a while, then came back full force.

“Then why don’t we go and just get it confirmed?” she asks. My Rita’s too gentle to force anything, but I can tell how badly she wants me to go. “If it’s about money, we have plenty in our savings. And I can always ask my parents for more.”

I cringe a little at that. I don’t like the idea of asking for handouts, but sadly we might need it soon. Jack needs his asthma medicine, Barbie might need braces soon, Rita’s been between jobs for a while now, and the restaurant’s been decreasing my hours.

I wish I could say that the money was the only reason, but the truth is I’ve never liked going to the doctor. There’s just so much helplessness involved in going to the hospital. It’s embarrassing at my age and there’s only so many times I can say no to Rita, so I agree to let her schedule an appointment.

Barbie’s a little quiet on the ride to school. When she speaks up, it’s a little quietly and addressed more to Rita than to me.

“Hey, Moms? I got a list of things I’ll need for school next year. I’ll need a May-Tov calculator for Algebra. It’s a little over $1,000.”

Good thing Rita was driving, because I almost jumped out of my seat. That May-Tov crap is always so damn expensive. My co-worker got a May-Tov cellphone that cost $8,000. And Barbie’s moving to the sixth grade, not NASA. Why would she need a calculator so advanced?

“I know it’s dumb,” she says quickly trying to absolve herself despite not having done anything wrong. Somewhere along the way, she and Jack realized that we’re having financial problems. “I think a normal calculator will do just fine.”

“I agree but we both know how persnickety schools can be,” Rita says, falsely cheerful. “It’s okay, dear. We’ll get you that calculator.”

$1,000 doesn’t seem like much, but we don’t know what’s wrong with me or how much it’ll cost. Plus, Jack’s starting sixth grade the year after Barbie, and who knows how much May-Tov crap we’ll need by then? All of this sends my heart into another surge as I try to hide my grimace.

Rita’s job hunting, so I have to brave the doctor’s office on my own. My heart flares up a few times while waiting and as petty as it sounds, the May-Tov Pyxis machine doesn’t help. It’s designed to look like an old-timey black and gray cash register attached to the wall, but I’ve seen a nurse pull medicine and equipment from one. My co-worker’s phone has a similar aesthetic, black and clunky with a rotary dial on the back and a detachable phone handle on the side. But he says the Wi-Fi signal, computer, and camera are all top-of-the-line. So weird design choice aside, it should be a good thing that the hospital uses May-Tov products. But my daughter’s future calculator/car payment may have soured me on them a bit.

When Dr. Mauz arrives, I tell him about my heart troubles. “It gets worse when I’m too active or stressed. But sometimes it starts going crazy when I’m just doing nothing or lying down.”

Dr. Mauz’s large, toothy grin wavers only slightly as he scratches his chin. “It sounds like it could be angina, but we’ll run some tests to be sure.”

He pushes a few buttons on the Pyxis machine and asks it for a blood pressure pump, stethoscope, and syringe of dye, among a few other things. Then he cranks a handle and the drawer pops open with everything inside. He checks my blood pressure and breathing, asks me about my medical history and eating habits, and injects me with some white dye. Then he waves a May-Tov scanner (which looks like a ray gun from an ancient sci-fi) over me.

“This will scan the dye and give us a look at what’s going on in there,” Dr. Mauz says. I’m sure his ever-present smile is meant to be reassuring, but it’s very quickly becoming unsettling. “We should get the results back in a few days, and we’ll call you in then.”

At home, Rita’s not thrilled about the lack of news. “You’d think with all that sci-fi crap they have in the hospital, they could find a better answer than ‘I don’t know’.” I don’t think her job interview went well. When I ask her, she says, “May-Tov stuff is everywhere. So many machines and computers are automated now that they don’t need human workers.”

She looks ready to cry, but we try not to do that with the kids in the house. I hug her, hoping she can’t feel my heart-beat. It’s not bad yet, but it’s getting there. She tries to smile and I smile back, but I don’t say anything. I honestly don’t know what’s going to happen.

“We’ll figure something out, Vi. I’m sure there are a few art jobs out there that computers haven’t taken yet. And once summer starts, you’ll have more hours at the restaurant. We’ll be fine.”

The next day at work, I see what Rita’s talking about. The stoves, ovens, grills, and walk-ins have all been replaced. All the new machines look black, gray and retro in a way that reminds me of my grandparents' kitchen. Sleek silver trim, lots of dials and levers, and a logo that looks like a black and gray blob with MAY-TOV written in wavy white letters in it. And as Rita said, they’re mostly automated. Just talk or type into the cash register-like machines attached to the walls and the appliances get to work.

“The freezer even hands thaws and cuts things and hands them to you,” Jody says, pointing to a chute in the wall that pops out a few pre-chopped carrots.

“Guess this is where the money for my hours went,” I grumble.

“All of our hours, Vi,” Jody agrees sadly. “Most we do now is take the food in and out of the machines. Pretty soon, they won’t need us for that, either. They’ve already laid off five more people.”

Jody’s right; there’s little to do but cut vegetables for the stove to boil, take pans in and out of the ovens, and clean the dishes until a May-Tov dishwasher arrives. You’d think that would lower the workload, but the ease of cooking means more orders, more cutting and carrying, and more cleaning. So these high-tech machines are actually making us work harder.

“I hate these things,” I mutter, taking a pan of lasagna from the oven’s robotic hands. “It’s not even all the way cooked.”

Before I can send it out anyway, the hands jolt out, yank the pan back inside, and the oven turns itself back on. It adjusts its own dials and flares to life, humming in a way that reminds me of angry grumbling. A few minutes later, it shoves the further-cooked pan into my oven mitts with an angry-sounding beep.

A few of the other machines beep, too. I swear the blender’s top flattens a bit, like a furrowed brow. I continue the rest of my shift with my eye on the machines. None of them do anything like that again, but I still end the night uneasy.

The day my test results come in is already a bad one. Rita still had no luck, Barbie’s orthodontist gave us the estimate for her braces, and I’d barely gotten 5 hours of sleep that night. Then Dr, Mauz called and asked if I could come in to discuss my results. His giant grin is more subdued than I’d seen before, so I brace myself for bad news.

“Mrs. Hasagawa, I’m sorry to say that your heart condition is something severe. Not necessarily life-threatening, but I wish you’d come in earlier. It will require treatment ASAP.”

I try, and mostly fail, to steady my heart and rasp out, “What do I need? Medicine? Surgery?”

Dr. Mauz takes a breath. I don’t like how he’s hesitating. “The standard procedure is very expensive and your insurance may not cover it. But there is a chance. Have you heard of the MAy-Tov Corporation?”

I nod. I know I should be annoyed or disturbed that May-Tov has once again found a way into my life, but mostly I’m just hopeful. May-Tov machines are supposed to be the most advanced on the market. Those assholes can have my job as long as they save my life.

“Well, I’ve already called in a specialist willing to examine you,” Dr. Mauz says, his face-consuming grin returning. “Your scans tell them that you’d be perfect for a new procedure they're working on. The equipment they have is more advanced than the stuff they give us, so they might be able to provide an answer.”

“And it’s cheaper?” I venture, remembering that he mentioned price. My heart-rate’s not going down and it feels like I’m breathing through cement.

“It’s experimental,” he says cautiously. “They’re willing to do it for free, but there’s no guarantee that it will have any effect. So what do you say?”

I’m starting to sweat and my vision’s blurring a bit. I need help; any help. I push down my suspicion and say, “Yes. Can they do it right now?”

Dr. Mauz seems relieved as he leads me to the elevator. Getting up and moving helps to relieve some of the pressure, but I still feel dizzy. It usually only gets this bad when I’m working extra hard at the restaurant. The stress of my diagnosis must be…wait.

“Doctor, what exactly is wrong with me?” I ask between gasps.

“Your heart, Mrs. Hasagawa,” he says evasively.

“But what specifically is going on? You never actually said what disease I have. Is it angina, like you said the other day?”

Dr. Mauz’s eyebrows raise as he remembers. “Oh, right. Angina. Yes, it’s definitely angina.” He’s still smiling but he sounds…defeated. “The May-Tov man will explain it better.”

I’m not sure I like the sound of any of that. I look down at the elevator buttons and see that the one that’s lit up is the basement button. But it looks different than the others; it’s bigger with an ornate black border and an old-timey B on it. It doesn’t look like it belongs in a modern elevator and I don’t think I saw it on the ride up to Dr. Mauz’s office.

My heart surges painfully as the door slides open. If the button didn’t quite match the elevator, then this room certainly doesn’t match the building. The room is just a white square with black stains on the walls and floor and a few flickering lights.

“I’m sorry, Mrs Hasagawa,” Dr. Mauz says, shoving me out of the elevator. “The door will open again when he’s done.”

I futilely try to keep the door from closing. I slam the elevator call button, but it stays closed. Who is ‘he’? The room is empty. And what is ‘he’ supposed to do? I don’t want to find out. I keep pounding the button and trying to breathe until I hear a giggle behind me.

I turn and press myself to the door. I don’t see anyone else in the room and no other doors or hallways, either. Just me and the inky black stains. But the continued laughter and flickering lights bring out a new perception in my eyes. Suddenly, I can make out limbs, torsos, fingers, and so many different types of heads. Heads with snouts, pointed ears, long trunks, curved horns, antennae, goofy hats, even a halo. The stains start to look like blast shadows, but not for humans. The laughter’s coming from the far wall. I think it’s the short stain with the big white eyes winking at me.

With a sound like velcro, the stain rips itself off of the wall and wobbles forward as a flat, black blob of ooze. Then it pauses, puts its barely formed hand to its gelatinous head, and inhales. The blob inflates like a balloon, gaining a third dimension and more detail.

It’s a doctor, that’s my first thought as it takes its thumb away from its mouth when it’s done inflating. Its large cat-like head with its googly slit-pupiled eyes and sharp-toothed grin are almost secondary. Its white coat, stethoscope, little black bag with a white cross, and head-mounted light tell me all I need to know about it.

I try to clench my fists and get ready for a fight, but this is too much. My legs start to lose their feeling and my vision darkens. Before I can faint, the living cartoon is right in front of me in a flash. He puts his gloved hands on my shoulders, lifts me to the standing position, and cocks his head curiously.

With nothing to lose, I manage to ask, “Can you help me?”

His eyes and grin widen even further and he nods enthusiastically. I relax the tiniest bit as he puts his stethoscope to my chest. A doctor’s a doctor, I guess, and it’s not like I can leave. After a second, the cartoon doctor tuts and shakes his head. He retracts the stethoscope and pulls something out of his bag; something small and round with a short handle. For a second I’m afraid it’s a cartoon bomb, but there’s no fuse.

“What’s that?” I ask.

The doctor doesn’t answer, of course. Instead he winds up his arm and shoves the object handle-first into my side. The icy metal punches right through my skin and muscle, paralyzing me. I can’t even scream or faint. Then he twists it and I can feel a click. He pulls on the object, a doorknob I realize, and the front half of my entire torso opens.

I still can’t move as the doctor pulls my heart from my ribcage, but I can feel the wave of cold radiating from the void left behind. My red and pink heart looks so out of place, almost invasive, in his stark white gloved hand.

The doctor giggles as he squeezes my heart like a toy. Then he pulls a little nightstand with a tub on it out of his bag and plops the removed muscle in it. He pulls out a large syringe of bubbling black ooze, leers at me gleefully, then frowns and throws the syringe away. Then he pulls out a meat tenderizer, a power-drill with a black cross on it, a large bandage, and a defibrillator. Each time, he considers the tool then throws it out of my range of vision. I’m not sure whether to be relieved or anxious. I just want this to end. The doctor’s getting annoyed. He taps his foot and scratches his chin for a moment before a lightbulb appears over his head. With a bright smile, he snaps his fingers and picks up the heart.

Then, slowly and deliberately so that I can fully see and understand, he opens his massive jaws and drops my heart into his mouth. The chewing sound he makes isn’t from a cartoon; it’s from a nightmare.

After a loud gulp, the doctor finishes my heart and fishes something else out of his bag. It’s another heart. A shiny black and gray cartoon heart. With no fanfare, he crams the heart into my ribcage, slams my torso shut, and removes the knob.

The spell freezing my body wears off instantly and I’m left to gasp for breath and choke back sobs as I lean against the door. The doctor grabs my hand and presses a paper into it then presses the elevator button. Before I can even process what happened, the door slides open and I fall in. The monstrous doctor waves cheerily as the door slides shut again.

Dr. Mauz is still in the elevator. He tries to put his hand on my shoulder, but I swat him away. I pull myself up and get as much distance from Dr. Mauz as the space will allow.

“What the hell was that?” I shriek. “What did he do?”

Dr. Mauz shrugs helplessly. “That was the May-Tov Incorporated doctor. I don’t know what they are. Or what specifically they want. Money? Fun? it’s hard to guess. But at least he fixed your heart.”

“Fixed it? That thing ate it and replaced it with another one!” I shout. “Did I even have a heart condition? Or was that just a lie?”

“They wouldn’t let me do any tests,” he says softly. “They just wanted to see if a heart transplant would make the process quicker.”

“Process?”

“It should all be on the paper.” Dr. Mauz presses the ground floor button. “I’m sure it won’t be too bad.” He pulls up his right sleeve so I can see his stark white, hairless, noodle-shaped arm. There’s a bandage in the elbow, where a shot usually goes. “It isn’t for me. Just a little pain every time it spreads.”

My heart-beat is slow and steady, but I still feel numb and light-headed. I look at the paper, but right now I can’t focus on anything except BILL written in large font at the top. “How can you do this to your patients?”

“It’s going to happen anyway,” he answers glumly as the door opens. “May-Tov has its hooks everywhere. I’m just trying to make it as painless as possible.” Then he goes off to talk with another patient. Another victim.

I want to follow him and sock him in the jaw, but there’s security everywhere. And what would it solve anyway? I numbly read the paper in the lobby. When I start crying, most of my tears are gray.

A few weeks later, when I’m all plugged in and ready to go, I tell myself that it’s not so bad. But deep down, I know that it’s not so good, either. It makes sense in a way. I work (well, worked) in a restaurant, so cooking is my skill set.

Rita didn’t believe the bill at first, of course. But when my skin began to blacken and harden, she took the kids to her sister’s for a week while I threw out most of our old appliances. I’m not sure if she believed it by then, but when they came back and she saw the new setup in the kitchen, I think it clicked for her. She told Jack and Barbie that I took a job in another city and the May-Tov stipends are my paychecks, but I can still talk to them through the register device and cook their meals remotely.

My new mechanical body includes a stove, oven, microwave, toaster, fridge, and freezer all connected to each other and to the cupboards and pantry. I can still cook for my wife and kids and see them every day. At night, I can reach out my flexible metal arms and pull the TV and remote into the kitchen. And obviously, my heart hasn’t bothered me since. I can even move a little and I’m sure May-Tov will upgrade us with some proper legs one day. All things considered, it’s not too bad. That’s what I tell myself when I miss holding my kids.

I have a lot of time to think. Dr. Mauz may have been scum but he also may have been right. May-Tov Incorporated is taking over quickly. They’ve bought out many competing tech companies. More and more people are disappearing. Some probably took an under-the-table medical procedure like I did, some may have been changed in a different way. But once May-Tov transplants and surgeries get approved, things will start rolling fast.

I don’t know how long May-Tov braces and a May-Tov inhaler will take to change someone, but I think it’s better to do it now. If we wait until the kids have jobs or career plans, they might become appliances. If they change as kids, though, maybe they’ll be beings like Dr. Mauz. And an artist could be more fun as a character than an object, so maybe my Rita will keep her arms and legs, too.

I ask Rita to consider all of this and she promises to, reluctantly. I know she misses sleeping next to me and dancing with me and holding me and I miss all of that, too. But once they’re all transformed, we’ll have plenty of fun together. Once the world is transformed by the May-Tov corporation, we’ll all have wacky hijinks and adventures. Soon, we’ll all be May-Tov inc.

#short story #doctor #cartoon

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void-tiger · 3 years

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…yeah. Still feeling pretty defeated.

#tiger’s roar #mental health bullshit #good news: insurance covers it. there’s no limit #bad news: things came to a head. close friends are pretty good at validating. and yeah. I need to keep looking #I…probably let things go on longer than I should have #but it’s far easier to see when a friend’s being placated by someone who’s a poor fit #than trust my own thoughts and experiences and feelings that it’s Not Working #and…well. there’s basically not much point trying to jump back into college classes that won’t flare my wrists #while I’m still struggling with anxiety and undiagnosed adhd (and therefore fumbling Strategies on my own)#and…goos god. therapist really didn’t ever believe me. just placated.#and is STILL convinced I’m ‘resistant’ to medication. convinved of that. will not listen to how things went Before #and how it was NOT how it was supposed to go. not at all #just. there’s not going to be a psychiatriat referal. there’s not going to be testing referal #she’s decided I’m Resistive and refusing to take medication. what even.#and…I don’t think I am? but this isn’t working.#but after SO MANY poor fits…I do wonder ‘if it’s me.’#then I remember that her liscence? marriage therapist. I don’t even know if she’s a psychologist #they dumped me on a marriage therapist because I’m medicaid and refused to be seen by interns #yeah. it’s fucking time to just move on

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dirty-jammies · 3 years

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An Inappropriate Use of Technology *Part 2!* (Jayce x Fem!Reader x Viktor)

Here's part two!! I accidentally lost this fic and had to rewrite it from memory, but I'm happy with how it turned out! Enjoy the humor, smut, and fluffy ending!

Link to part 1 here!

~❤️📷❤️~

Jayce and Viktor stared at you as you stood in their laboratory's doorway. Not only have you caught them in quite a compromising position, with Viktor straddling Jayce's lap, but their faces were still flushed with their recent climaxes. Climaxes they reached watching you shower with the Hexbug you carried delicately in your palm.

You held back a wide grin. You knew it... You looked between your two friends, "Sorry for interrupting," you teased with a smile, "I believe I found something of yours." The beetle was held out to the two men.

Viktor got up from Jayce's lap, using his crutch for support. He smoothed down his slightly rumpled vest and cleared his throat, "Em, do excuse us, (Y/N), we..." Viktor froze. He knew he was a bad liar. He knew you knew he was a bad liar. He glanced at Jayce for help.

Jayce spun his chair around to face you, "Oh! That's where the Hexbug ended up!" He laughed and held a hand to his forehead in fake relief, "While we were testing it, the camera cut out and we had no idea where it went!" He got up and approached you, holding out his hand, "Thank you so much for bringing it back! I was scared it got stepped on or something!"

Before handing it to Jayce, you held up the Hexbug to the light, admiring the detail, "This is very well made! Even by your standards," you praised, looking into the beetle's eyes, "I wonder, did you make it able to record the things it's seen?"

Viktor felt weak at the idea; of being able to watch you masturbate in the shower, over and over again. He shook his head and clicked his tongue, "Ah, no, we did not. I should implement something like that in our next attempt, though." He bent over the desk to scrawl a reminder on his clipboard. You brushed past Jayce, handing him the Hexbug, and went to stand behind Viktor. You leant over him to read the notes, and you heard his breathing hitch at your close proximity.

"Sorry," you giggled lightly, "I suppose I'm still a little wet."

The word Viktor was writing was never finished, as the hand holding his pencil careened downwards, making a sharp, sudden line. You nearly burst out laughing at his stunned face. When he turned his head around to look at you, a desperate look in his eyes that made heat flare up in your tummy, you simply gave him an innocent smile and twirled a piece of your slightly-damp hair. You turned your attention back down to his notes, "Ooh, you're going to make it pick up sounds, too!" You leaned closer to Viktor, brushing your soft chest over his back, barely feeling his tremble, and you took the pencil from his fingers, "You could try and wire it like this..." you doodled a small drawing of the Hexbug with a few wires on the inside, "What do you think, Jayce?" You looked over your shoulder.

Jayce's face was flushed, seeing how close you were to Viktor, and also giving him a terrific view of your ass in your tight uniform pants. Jayce gained confidence with a smirk and stepped towards you, leaning over your shoulder and humming at your doodle.

"Not bad, but I think we would need to do it more like this." He took a pencil of his own and began drawing next to yours. He pressed his chest onto your back, and you felt yourself blush, his ample pecs were so warm. Viktor groaned a bit under the added weight, and you and Jayce moved to let him stand up again. "Ha, sorry, Vik. Didn't mean to crush you." Jayce joked apologetically. You pouted a bit, missing the warmth of the two men pressed against you already.

Jayce had set the Hexbug on the desk, and you leaned over to take a good look at it. It really was a marvel of technology, with its shiny gold exterior and almost crystalline blue eyes. You felt two sets of human eyes on you once more (specifically your rear end) and you hummed, shifting your hips subtly, "The eyes don't look like the Hextech crystals, what are they made of?"

"Thick ass," Jayce stated, eyes not leaving your butt. An elbow was jammed into his side and Viktor glared up at him. Jayce seemed to snap out of it and his face flushed, "Glass! Thick glass!" He corrected himself, laughing off his slip of the tongue. Viktor was not as amused, unfortunately. Maybe you could change that...

You carefully picked up the Hexbug and set it on your chest, smiling as it's grippy little feet stuck to the fabric of your uniform jacket. You turned around and proudly stuck out your chest, breasts bouncing a bit as you showed off the Hexbug as a broach. You didn't miss how Viktor's eyes lowered or the stuttered breath he took at your chest's movement. "Looks like it can stick to fabric, too!" You announced.

Viktor put a hand to his temple, "(Y/N), while I normally enjoy your visits to our lab, I'm sure you're quite busty and have to get back to your own lab."

You bit your lip to hold back your grin. You glanced down at your own chest and cupped your own breasts, making Viktor and Jayce's eyes widen. You hummed thoughtfully, letting them bounce back down, "I suppose I am..." you teased with a smile in Viktor's direction.

The older man's face turned bright red and he straightened from his usual hunched posture, "BUSY!! I-I meant busy, of course!" He groaned and hid his face in his hands, clutching his cane to his side with his elbow.

Jayce sighed, defeated, "Okay, okay, (Y/N), I don't know what you're trying to do, but-"

You set the Hexbug back on the table before turning to smile at the two men, "Jayce, Viktor, I know you were spying on me in the shower." you stated simply.

The two men, once proud scientists who now looked like kicked puppies left out in the rain, looked away. Jayce glanced back at you, shame clear on his face, "I'm so, so sorry. I was the one who moved the bug up there, and," he was about to explain further, but reconsidered and lowered his head once more, "Sorry."

Viktor looked nearly on the verge of tears, "(Y/N), please forgive us. I understand it was a gross misuse of technology, and I assure you it will not happen again, but," his hands tightened on his crutch, "I would hate for this to ruin our friendship." He hung his head sadly.

You decided to put the boys out of their misery and flung your arms around their shoulders, hugging them tightly. At their cut off sounds of confusion, you reassured them, "I'm not upset, guys. But I do need to know something," you pulled back to look at their faces, "Did you like what you saw?" Your eyes became half lidded and you smirked. Jayce and Viktor stiffened but they didn't try and escape your hold.

Surprisingly, Viktor answered first, and his hand not holding his crutch reached out to gently hold your waist, "Yes. (Y/N), I," he faltered, angular face blushing, "I find you extremely attractive. It often drives me to distraction." He confessed and you felt your heart flutter at his honest words.

Jayce nodded, "Me too, (Y/N), gods above, you looked so damn hot..." his eyes looked you up and down, no doubt remembering how you looked without your clothes on.

You smiled, pleased, and gently held both of their faces, "You guys are way too sweet, I swear. If you want me," you bit your lip and undid the first button on your uniform jacket, "You can have me."

It was like something snapped in the two men. Suddenly, you were being whirled around and your back was pressed into Jayce's broad chest. Viktor's hands cupped your face and you only saw his soft smile before he kissed you. You hummed happily against his chapped lips, one of your hands weaving into his fluffy brown hair. Jayce's hands trailed up your sides, admiring your curves as his mouth peppered the back of your neck with kisses. You felt both men bring against you, semis rubbing against your back and front. You felt Viktor's dexterous hands begin undoing the rest of the buttons on your jacket, Jayce helping you take it off once the older man was done. You felt giddy as the two men helped undress you, having so much attention lavished on you by these two attractive men made heat pool in your tummy.

Once your dress shirt and pants had been done away with, Jayce and Viktor admired the sight of you in your lacy underwear and bra.

Jayce's large hands reached down to cup your cheeks and you gasped as his thick fingers dipped under the fabric, "Fuck, I love your ass, babe. You're always bending over tables, you don't know what that does to me." By the way he rolled his hips against the swell of your ass, you could get a pretty good idea of exactly what you did to him.

Viktor moaned as he took in the sight of your lace-clad breasts. He gingerly reached out to hold them, feeling their weight in his palms. You whined at the dual ministrations to your ass and tits, which only seemed to encourage the two men. Viktor's hand reached behind you and expertly unclipped your bra, letting your breasts bounce free as the fabric slipped away. You could practically see his mouth water. Deciding to tease him further, you held your own breasts, fingers rubbing against your hardening nipples. You briefly heard the shuffling of fabric behind you, but you were occupied with Viktor, who leaned down to suck one of your nipples into his hot mouth, making you moan out loud; his hands came up to squeeze your soft breasts and he groaned needily into your skin as he sucked, switching between nipples to get them hard and wet.

Once more, you felt Jayce press against your back, but now without the barrier of either of your clothes. You reached a hand back to cup Jayce's jaw, humming as you felt his hard cock press against your lower back. He reached around under your arms to hold you closer to him, "Your turn, Vik." He teased, a little breathily.

Viktor let go of your hard nipple and glanced up at you and Jayce, smiling as he straightened up, "I do suppose I am a bit overdressed," he leaned back against the lab bench, "care to help, my loves?"

You and Jayce both smiled as you cornered the older man against the table, your hands working on his vest and dress shirt buttons while Jayce leaned down to kiss him; you couldn't help but beam at the sight. Viktor's hand came up to card through Jayce's short hair and he smiled against Jayce's soft lips, "You're a good kisser," he praised and lifted his arms to take off his shirt and vest, "so, eh, how shall we..." he glanced back and forth between you and Jayce, lust darkening his eyes, "proceed?"

You shivered as Viktor's fingers trailed over your bare shoulders and Jayce's hand smoothed over your lower back. It was clear they intended on ravishing you right here in the lab, but they were unsure of how. You pressed into Viktor, your soft chest pressing into his thin frame as you kissed his neck. You delighted in his shudder of pleasure and hummed, "I've imagined this so many different ways, I'm certainly not picky." You confessed, looking back at Jayce, "How about you, Talis?" You wiggled your hips, grinding against the obvious (and large) bulge in Viktor's pants as well as shaking your ass for Jayce.

Jayce took hold of his large cock and started giving it long, slow strokes as he came over to lean against the bench next to Viktor, "I'd love to see you on your knees, if you'd like?" He offered, looking at you up and down. Viktor smirked and unfastened his pants, as if that was agreement enough.

You smiled and dropped to your knees, looking up at the two men. You felt excitement and arousal swirl in your core as Viktor pulled down his pants to reveal his hard cock. You licked your lips and reached out to take both of them in your hands. They both groaned as you started stroking them off. Jayce and Viktor leaned against each other as much as the bench, no doubt craving some skin-to-skin contact. You admired their unique dicks as you pleasured them. Jayce's was thick and heavy, and a darker tone of brown than the rest of him, and you delighted in his large, low-hanging balls. Viktor on (or rather in) the other hand, was thinner and was ever so slightly longer. You rolled his foreskin back and forth, extending your tongue to play around the blushing red tip.

At the feeling of your clever tongue, Viktor groaned and his breathing became heavier. You could taste fresh cum; they really did get off to watching you shower. That fact turned you on an embarrassing amount. You moaned around Viktor's cock and pulled off, giving it a little kiss before giving the same treatment to Jayce's dick, looking up into his hooded eyes as you sucked at his cockhead, using your hands to stroke them both.

"Fuck," Jayce cursed as he stared into your eyes, "You look way too good like that, babe." He groaned as you swirled your tongue around his tip.

Viktor hummed and kissed Jayce's neck, "She certainly does, what a good girl for us." Viktor's hand ran through your hair. You pumped both cocks, groaning as you took more of Jayce's cock into your mouth, unable to take it all without gagging. Viktor's voice was gentle as you pulled off, "Don't push yourself, darling, we want you to feel good as well."

You smiled up at the men, their care for you making your heart flutter. As fun as it was savoring their cocks, you needed more from them. You gave each tip a kiss before standing back up on shaky legs. You were so aroused, you could feel your slick dripping down the inside of your thighs. You reached out and they brought you into their two sets of arms in a three-person embrace; you kissed Jayce deeply, feeling Viktor suck a bruising mark onto your collarbone. You pulled back with a hum, feeling their hard cocks now pressing against your stomach.

Viktor hummed for a moment and glanced over at the couch in the corner of the laboratory; it wasn't rare for either of them to get overworked and stay the night here. He and Jayce shared a look and Jayce quickly grabbed a blanket and a few pillows from it and laid it out on the ground. At your look, Viktor smiled, "I do not think there is enough room on the couch for what we want to do with you, my dear."

Jayce was already kneeling on the blanket, and he extended a hand, beckoning you and Viktor to join him. Viktor laid down, groaning as pressure was finally off his leg, and you straddled him, delighting in his surprised little smile at seeing your gorgeous, naked from a new angle. Jayce knelt behind you and between Viktor's spread legs, hands coming around to hold you close to his warm chest, and he rested his chin on your shoulder.

"I think something like this would be nice," Jayce kissed your neck, adding a hickey next to the one Viktor gave you, "Think you can take both of us, babe?"

You shivered at his implication, and also as one of his hands slid down to tease between your ass cheeks. You bit your lip and nodded. You reached under you to grab Viktor's cock and lifted your hips to tease the tip against your dripping folds. You moaned and smiled down at Viktor, "What do you say, Viktor? Want me to ride you like this?" You lowered yourself the tiniest amount, feeling the head barely breach your pussy.

Viktor's face was alight with a blush, and he nodded tightly, "Yes, my love," he panted, needy, "I want to feel you." His hands held onto your hips, stilling your teasing movements and he pulled you onto his cock, groaning loudly as he was fully sheathed inside you. You let out a cry as you were filled, his cock perfectly hitting the deepest, most sensitive spots inside of you. The look on his face was that of utter transcendence, and you gave the both of you a moment to adjust before you started riding him, lifting and dropping yourself onto his cock. You moaned, tits bouncing, and his hands came up to grope them as you moved.

Jayce was behind you, stroking himself as he watched, "Fuck, you're both so damn hot," he fucked his own fist and sucked three fingers into his mouth, getting them wet. He lowered them back down to your ass, playing around your tight hole, and he leaned in to groan in your ear, "I've always wondered, you ever play with yourself back here? You got such a nice ass, it'd be a shame not to show it the love it deserves." You gasped as you felt one of his slick fingers enter you.

You leaned against Jayce's back as he worked your ass open. Your body was wracked with pleasure, from your tits being played with, to the fingers stretching your asshole, and the hard cock pumping in and out of you. You felt yourself getting close, already sensitive from your recent orgasm in the shower, and you keened as Jayce slowly added another finger.

Viktor groaned under you, his hips meeting your on every down-stroke, and you saw him smile lustily, "Ah, you're so wet and tight, and, oh, you're...ngh, clenching around me, love." His voice was strained, and he stilled your hips with his hands, instead holding you against his pelvis and grinding hard against your g-spot, making you let out a wanton, gasping cry, "I wonder just how many times we can make you cum."

Jayce panted against your neck, practically humping your lower back with how eager he was, "Yeah, babe, you can cum whenever you want," your eyes rolled back into your head as he eased in his third finger, making sure you were prepared to take him, "Cum for us like this and I'll fuck your ass."

Jayce's free hand came around to play with your clit, and as Viktor kept grinding greedily into you, the coil building in your stomach snapped, and you shuddered apart, Viktor's hands on your tits and Jayce's arm around you holding you steady. You moaned out both of their names as you (literally) rode out the aftershocks, hips pumping over Viktor's cock for more friction. Viktor smiled adoringly up at you, though even in your post-orgasmic haze you could tell it was strained with his own held-back release.

Jayce slowly removed your fingers from your slick and stretched hole and let you rest against his chest. He gave you a moment to let you recuperate before brushing some strands of your hair out of your face, "That was awesome, (Y/N), you still with us?"

You nodded and let a little content noise. You looked back at Jayce and back down at Viktor, "I'm ready to go again, I want to make you two feel good as well."

Jayce spat onto his own hand and used it to slick his cock, "Ready to take both of us?" He pressed his cock head against your prepared hole, making you moan. Slowly, Jayce pressed into you, letting out a long, shuddering groan. You winced slightly at the stretch and slight burn, but Viktor rubbed soothing little circles on your clit to distract you. Jayce panted roughly against your neck as he slid halfway in, "Oh, gods... fuck, you're so tight and hot!" You let out a cry as he bottomed out, and you felt his hands grip tightly onto your hips, "Fuck! fuck, don't... don't either of you move yet..." his voice was so strained, it almost sounded like he was in pain.

Viktor, however, seemed to deduce the real reason and he smiled over your shoulder, "Really? You're about to cum just from entering her?" his tone was teasing, but you could easily hear his own ragged breathing and see the sweat beading on his forehead.

Jayce trembled and fired back, "As if you're not about to burst, yourself." After the slight burn ebbed, you sighed in pleasure, both holes absolutely full of cock. You decided to tease a bit, and flexed your muscles around them, delighting in Viktor and Jayce's surprised moans.

You leaned back against Jayce's chest and guided him by the hair to kiss you deeply. You pulled back to smile down at Viktor, reaching down to cup his chin lovingly, "I think I'm ready now. I want you both to fill me up."

Permission granted, Jayce and Viktor shared a determined, lusty look, and Jayce lifted your hips up until just their two cockheads were inside you, before letting you slam your full weight down. You screamed at the sensation, your oversensitive pussy and tight ass taking the full lengths of them quickly. Your eyes rolled back and you couldn't help the loud noises of pleasure that bubbled up from your chest as Viktor and Jayce started fucking you earnestly. Your tits bounced as Viktor thrust up into you and Jayce pumped into you from behind, his hips slapping your ass cheeks with every thrust.

Jayce was practically whimpering as he fucked you, strong arms wrapped around your chest and holding you tight, "Fuck! Fuck! Gods above, you feel so fucking perfect, (Y/N), babe, fuck..." His thick cock was stretching out your ass, and his copious, slick precum allowed him to rail you faster, his heavy balls slapping wetly against Viktor's every time, "I can feel V-Viktor's cock next to mine, it's so fucking good...!"

Viktor watched you with adoration in his lust-blown amber eyes, and he openly let moans and sighs of pleasure fall from his lips as you bounced on his cock. He could see how your pretty pink pussy stretched around his member, could see your hard little clit peeking out, and your glistening slick coating the base of his cock. His fingernails dug into your soft thighs and he groaned, "Are you feeling good, darling? You're leaking so much on me," he smirked at your tight nod, continuously slamming down on the two cocks, the pair grinding against each other through your gummy walls, "That's good. I've often fantasized about this, but I had no idea just how gorgeous you'd look stuffed full of my cock."

The dirty talking was adding to your pleasure, helped even more when Viktor went back to rubbing your sensitive clit. Jayce started sucking a hickey on the side of your throat; you could feel him panting through his nose, it was clear he was close.

You felt yourself veering towards your third orgasm of the day, and you tangled one of your hands into Jayce's hair, the other steadying yourself on Viktor's stomach. You sped up the movements of your hips, grinding down on the two twitching cocks inside of you, "I- I'm gonna," you whined, gasping for air, "I'm gonna cum! Please, please cum inside me!" At your needy begging, Viktor and Jayce groaned.

"Gods... yeah, babe?" Jayce groaned into your neck, fucking your ass with stuttering thrusts, "Gonna fill you up, yeah, gonna fucking- fuck-!" You gasped as Jayce pressed as deep as he could go and came, his hot cum spurting inside you.

Viktor's constant rubbing of your wet clit and the feeling of Jayce creaming your ass pushed you over the edge, and you screamed, rocking yourself on both cocks as orgasm rocked your body. Viktor's hands held your hips tight and he thrust up into you, crying out your name as finally, he pushed deep inside you and came hard, thrusting a few more times, as if he was trying to pump his cum as deep into you as possible.

The three of you stilled, all catching your breath. You collapsed into Jayce's arms, who carefully lifted you off of his and Viktor's oversensitive, softening cocks (making all three of you whimper pleasantly), and laid you to the side. Jayce laid in between you and Viktor on the blanket, pulling the two of you up to rest your heads on his soft chest. You hummed in comfort as his large hand soothed over your back, and you reached out to hold Viktor's hand. He kissed your knuckles gently and gave you an adoring, tired smile.

"How long have you both liked me?" You asked quietly, snuggling into Jayce's embrace.

"A long while, now," Jayce admitted, kissing the top of your head, "I've always thought you were hot, smart, and kind."

Viktor looked a bit shy, even though you just had sex, "To be completely honest, my dear, you have consumed my thoughts since you set foot in the Academy. The natural sciences have always eluded me, but hearing you talk about botany so passionately made me want you to teach me everything about it," Once more, he kissed your hand, in your soft palm this time, "It doesn't hurt that you are amazingly cute and sexy."

Jayce scoffed playfully and ruffled Viktor's hair, "Well thanks, Vik, for making my confession sound stupid." He joked, though his face was a little flushed, "What about you, (Y/N)?"

You hummed a bit and traced nonsense patterns into Jayce's skin, "Hm, well... I always loved spending time with you two, and that eventually blossomed into love," you confessed, "And... I didn't want to have to choose one or the other."

Jayce nuzzled into your hair, "Well, you don't have to worry about that, babe. I'm one-hundred-percent into this little arrangement."

Viktor rubbed his cheek over Jayce's pec lovingly, "I agree. If you will have the both of us as lovers, (Y/N), we're overjoyed to be yours."

You moved to kiss Viktor deeply, then kissed Jayce with the same passion, and you smiled as Jayce pulled Viktor up to kiss him, too. Viktor chuckled and wiped some sweat from his forehead, "It appears as though we could all use a shower."

You smirked a bit, "Hm, I'd offer for you two to use the one in my lab, but... I think the one in my dormitory would be big enough for all three of us?"

Jayce laughed, "Sounds good to me, as long as your bed is big enough for the three of us, too. You two wore me out."

Viktor hummed and pressed a kiss to Jayce's neck before nuzzling into it, "You're very comfortable, yourself, Jayce, I could sleep right on top of you..."

You giggled and did the same, snuggling into Jayce's chest, "Same here~"

Jayce nudged the both of you, "Hey, my pecs are not pillows!" he pouted, "At least not when we're all this sweaty..."

You got up on unsteady legs, shivering as you felt Jayce and Viktor's cum trickle down your legs. The two men watched with flushed faces, eager to fuck you again already.

"It's no fair you're this hot," Jayce said bluntly, "You're gonna make me hard again..."

Viktor agreed with a stern look, "Honestly, (Y/N), how dare you torture your new lovers like this? So rude." he teased, making you giggle.

You pulled on your discarded clothes, cringing at the feeling of fabric dragging on your sweaty skin, and you blushed as you put on your panties, fluids pooling in the gusset lewdly. Once the men redressed, Jayce helped Viktor to his feet and you handed him his crutch.

"Thank you, loves," he smiled and gestured to the lab bench, "eh, before we go to your dorm, (Y/N), would you hand me the Hexbug and a screwdriver?"

You fetched the items for him and tilted your head, "Why do you need the Hexbug?"

Viktor shrugged and gently put the insect in his pocket, "I need to make sure the gears won't lock up in humid conditions again." His lusty smile made you blush, but you matched his smile.

"I'm never going to shower in peace again, am I?" you laughed as the three of you set off for your dorm for your second very eventful shower of the day.

#Let me know if you enjoyed!#Pajama Writes #Arcane Viktor smut #Jayce smut #viktor x fem!reader #Jayce x fem!reader #jayce talis x reader #Jayvik #Jayvik x reader #jayce x Viktor x reader

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littlefreya · 3 years

Text

As I was saying

Summary: You recently found out that you’re pregnant and Henry is being all sorts of over-protective and annoying about it and won’t shut up about what you should or shouldn’t eat. So you find a creative way to shut him up...

Pairing: Henry Cavill x Reader (no description of body type or ethnicity thought it’s mention that Henry is taller)

Word count: 1.8k

Warnings: 18+, RPF, fluff to smut, early pregnancy, blow job, bodily fluids, slight FemDom/SubMale, My overuse of poetic sex metaphors, cottagecore!

*No permission is given for reposting my work, copying it, or parts from it.

A/N: This story was born out of a convo I had with my sweet @the-soot-sprite about the photo above. Many thanks to @agniavateira my solid rock who betas all my work and to @firefly-graphics for the dividers

Please comment and reblog if you enjoyed my story. I work hard on each one of them and your validation means the world to me. 🖤

As I was Saying

Henry’s velvety voice carried through the cottage like seductive vapours of honey liqueur. It wasn’t often that he'd sing a blissful tune so casually out of the blue—after earth-shattering sex perhaps, which indeed you had the night before. However, this morning, his chants were laced with a new flavour of sugary bliss.

Two little pink stripes. That's all it took for his eyes to shimmer the way precious cobalt is kissed by a moonlight glow.

Sneaking about in the mien of a curious little mouse, you trod after the pleasant tune of his voice, which was now accompanied by a soft rustle. Wander laved your face once you leaned against the kitchen door frame, peering at the prodigious man who stood in front of the open fridge.

Preoccupied, he appeared to be ransacking through the shelves with the song ‘Cheek to Cheek’ thrumming on his tongue.

“Heaven... I'm in heaven…”

Fingers clutching at the edge of the wall, you pressed into the chilled surface with a relaxed smirk, lingering on the irresistible view when your ease of mind faded with a blink of an eye — while methodically rummaging through the fridge, Henry threw fresh food straight into an open trash can.

“What are you doing?” you asked, your voice rising to a high-pitched yip.

Henry made a soft flex; the muscles of his back rippled in a tidal motion. Though acknowledging your presence, he proceeded to hover a finger over different products.

“Cleaning up the fridge," he answered absentmindedly.

With a soft shove, there went your French cheese.

“That’s brand new!” you protested and rushed toward him, alarmed.

Towering over the trash can, you considered diving in to salvage the precious bulk of cheese from the dreary pit. Henry glanced at you from the corner of his eyes, testing your resolve while his claw grabbed some papaya salad leftovers and pushed it over the edge of the shelf, joining the rest of the discarded meals.

“It is,” he nodded and closed the refrigerator door, carrying on to the high cabinets. With a slight wrinkle between his brows and a hand scratching the stubbles of his dimpled chin, he narrowed his eyes to scrutinise the items carefully. “I'm pregnant-proofing the kitchen. I called Hanna while you were asleep. She created a proper daily menu for you with the dos and don’ts: less sugar, more veggies and protein.”

It took you a moment to process his words, your eyes narrowing while asking, “Hanna? As in Hanna, your nutritionist?”

Henry nodded at your question, a faint crease lining his cheek. “That’s the one. Don't worry, princess, she specialises with pregnant women.”

Unwittingly, a somewhat inhuman growl sounded in your chest. You were only getting used to the idea of developing another person inside you, and here stood your husband, already seeing fit to dictate your diet. Slithering into the narrow space between the heavy man and the counter, you tilted your chin to meet his stare while your fists pressed into your hips assertively.

“Listen here, Cavill! You might have jizzed me one too many and succeeded in putting a baby in there, but this is still my body. I can take care of my own pregnancy diet.”

With an arm stretched above your head, Henry offered a charming display of pearly whites to pacify your strained nerves. His dimples nearly managed to beguile your senses when your eyes flared at the sight of what was held between his long fingers.

“No! Henry, no! Not the coffee!”

“Oh, I’m afraid so, my love. You shouldn’t have any caffeine at your current state.” Despite his argument, the tenderness of his gaze stroked upon your face like a warm ray of sunlight piercing through heavy clouds. Lazily it dropped to your belly, the cascading heat cradling your unborn child.

Words of protest left you for a sliver of a moment, too in awe of the dreamy grin on his face.

Thoughts of how beautiful you’d look rounded and full with his child illuminated him that you swore his skin developed a glow over the night. Didn’t they always say women are radiant when they are pregnant? Well, it seemed that in your case, it applied to your husband as well.

The charming haze of bliss almost swallowed you up; but you quickly slapped yourself back into reality, reaching a hand in an attempt to stop Henry from throwing away your delicacy. Though taller, Henry held his hand far out of reach, a hint of a smugness stretching his lips.

“A pregnant woman is allowed to have a little bit of caffeine!” You muttered and sent both hands in an attempt to retrieve the box while Henry teased you by throwing it from one hand to the other, further fueling your annoyance.

Vexed to the point of frustration, you stood still and sighed, “you know what else is bad for the baby?”

Henry paused his foolish games and tilted his head as he waited to hear your answer.

“His father at the morgue after I’ll kill him. Now stop that and hand it over! A pregnant woman can have a cup a day, according to Google.”

“Nope,” Henry clicked his tongue, his laughter replaced with a severe stare. “Love, I know they say it’s okay to have a teeny bit, but I’ve been doing some research while you were asleep, and it’s not recommended. Caffeine increases heart rate and blood pressure, which is not good for you nor for the baby. It also increases urination, which may cause dehydration.”

Clenching your jaw at the onslaught of information he bestowed, you watched his lips move while none of his words registered. Preoccupied with the rules of a “healthy” pregnancy, Henry was set on being the practical one, completely forgetting to enjoy the moment. And damn, it was the moment to celebrate. All you wanted right now was to stay in bed for a day, ride your handsome husband to hell and back and eat as much ice cream as possible.

“Everything you eat from now on goes to our baby,” Henry proceeded to lecture on a thing you were perfectly aware of.

Ire found you within seconds, embroiled with pregnancy hormones which made him further intolerable at the moment— intolerable

... and delicious.

Soaked with hunger, your eyes raked his sight: the thickness of his muscles was apparent beneath a plain black t-shirt and those good old grey sweats outlined the source of your current predicament. Your fingers twitched just from thinking about it, mimicking the sensation of squeezing its girth and eliciting those low groans that made your heart flutter.

But his chatter still interrupted your sultry thoughts. If only there was a way to get him to shut up, you mused. Then your eyes focused on the soft bulge that winked back at your hungry glare.

Unaware, Henry turned toward the table to grab a bulk of informative documents he printed earlier in order to educate you of your pregnancy, he licked his thumb and began to read through, “As I was saying….”

Hastily, you exploited his lack of attention and took a step forward, your fingers latching around the hem of his sweats. With one swift movement, you fell to your knees and tugged his trousers along.

Lost in his passionate speech, Henry was still muttering nonsense when your hand seized him; but as the lushness of your tongue bedded his soft cock without warning, all that could be heard in the kitchen was a husky gasp.

Feeling the warm silky flesh swell and harden within your mouth, you sent your eyes up to peer at him, admiring the sight. Nothing spoke of your power better than the wrinkle between his shut eyes and his mouth agape with all air draining from his lungs. There you were, lowered to your knees with a maw full of his cock and yet, he was the one who lost his ability to speak and had his legs quaking of need.

Unable to help yourself, you sent one palm to feel the tremor that ran through the muscles of his thighs while the other cradled his heavy sac.

“Uh……” he finally managed to utter, a groan of bemused bliss pushing itself between his parted lips. “What… what are you doing?”

You crooked an eyebrow in response and answered by dragging your mouth along the length of his shaft. Your pillowy lips ran across ridges and thrumming veins, your jaw loosening until you felt him deep in the back of your throat.

Locked in the cavernous cage of your maw, he tightened his gut and shuddered with pleasure. Though, the low unbridled groans that sputtered from his chest fueled your enticement just as so; memories of how the same thick girth that brimmed your mouth would split open your narrow canal made both your eyes and abandoned cunt tear of desperation.

It always beguiled you how much arousal could be found in bringing him to his rapture without touching yourself. The harder he throbbed on your velvety serpent, the more you soaked.

With fervent strokes, you feasted on the briny flavour of his cock; the tendons vibrated with bliss while your tongue twirled and pushed around them. You pulled, sucked, and pumped him in your warm mouth, milking the senses of a man infinitely stronger—a man who succeeded in conquering your womb yet now crumbled to nothing at the touch of your tongue.

“Fuck…. Babe… keep going,” Henry breathed out a plea. The documents held by his hand slipped between his fingers as he pressed his palm to the cabinet with a thud, and began to rock his hips back and forth to fuck back into your mouth. Like feathers, the white slips floated around you, landing onto the ground while you worked him to his ecstasy.

His other hand found your head, caressing lovingly and trying to take control: yet his strength waned and his head fell back with a moan. Faster, harder, you sucked your husband to the point of submission while hums of admiration laced around his rigid length. Your eyes beamed as you watched his resolve shatter. Your fingertips toyed with the coarse hair at the apex of his thighs, your thumb seeking the tendon at the base of his cock and pressing into it, urging him to spill his gift down your throat.

“I’m going to… I’m going to…. In your throat… fuck.”

With a guttural grunt, he thickened against your tongue; the overflow of salty-sweet cream glazed your mouth and then flowed down your flaring throat.

The room thrummed with the buzz of the refrigerator, Henry’s heavy exhales - these were the sounds of your triumph. Wiping your lips with the back of your hand, you cracked a smile and neatly pulled his trousers back on before you rose to stand straight.

Overwhelmed and drenched in sweat, your husband scrutinised you while you reached for the box of capsules and tilted your head.

“You were saying?”

#henry cavill rpf #henry cavill #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill fanfiction

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devildomdisaster · 3 years

Note

I’d like to request a body switching scenario with [Satan, Asmo, Beelz, Solomon, Simeon] and an Gender Neutral MC with undisclosed chronic health issues. Like brittle bones that break if you step a little goofy, stress ulcers, sensitivity to light, joint pain, poor stamina, etc. I just want to see the boys go “You live like this?!”

Satan:

Satan has a habit of collecting rare magical objects. Somehow quite a few of these cause body-switching incidents.

The cursed object causes the two of you to lose consciousness for a few minutes. When he wakes up he is in immediate pain.

His first thought is that the spell must have caused this and you must be in pain too! If he, a demon, is in this much pain it must be excruciating for a human.

He rushes to you or tries to. But falls to his knees in shock as a shooting pain runs through him.

He blinks watering eyes and sees his body stirring on the floor and realizes you’ve switched bodies.

You sit up feeling better than you’ve felt in years. Wondering if this is ‘normal’ or if that cursed object gave you super healing.

It’s only when you hear your own voice calling your name that you realize you and Satan have switched bodies.

You can see the tears in his(your body's) eyes and know exactly what's happening. You’ve had chronic pain for years. And Satan is sitting in just the right way to send shooting pain up your spine.

“Lay down on your back,” you order him. He has just enough control to follow your order and lower your body down slowly.

You can see Satan’s relief on your face as the pain eases slightly. It takes a moment for the worst of the pain to subside and his breath to even out.

He’s staring at the ceiling when he speaks, voice still a little shaky, “You live like this?”

You hum out a yes.

“All- all the time?” he asks, horrified.

“Sometimes it's worse than others. If I move or sit in certain ways it gets real bad. But if I avoid those movements it’s bearable.”

Satan turns to you “This is what you call bearable?!”

You shrug, “That position is usually pretty safe. So yeah probably.”

He is careful to move your body a little as possible as he shifts to point at a spellbook. “That book-”

“Are you going to change us back?” you ask.

“I-” he hesitates. Clearly not wanting you to be in pain again.

“Look, Satan it’s not that I don’t enjoy being pain-free. But I’ve dealt with it for years now. I’ve learned how to function around it. I had to. You on the other hand are going to be laying on the floor for most of the day if you stay in my body.”

“I’m going to find a way to fix you.” He says firmly as you place the book in his hands.

“Promises, promise,” you sing, preparing yourself to experience the pain in your body again.

“I mean it. As soon as I can move again I am going to find a way to help you. Devildom magic has to be better than human medicine.”

Asmo:

Asmo bought you matching bracelets. “Look Mc, I bought us these bracelets! They are supposed to bring us closer together!”

Well, they did bring you closer together. Just not in the way Asmo intended.

When he clasped the bracelets on, you felt a shiver go down your spine and when you opened your eyes you felt...different. Better. There was no aching pain. For once the dazzling lights of Asmo’s room didn’t cause you to wince. That's when you realize you’ve switched bodies.

Asmo on the other hand immediately cringed and squeezed his eyes closed, clutching his(your) head.

Asmo groaned pitifully, teary eyes squinting at you “Mc, how do you do anything like this??”

He curls up beneath his covers, and you make your way around his room turning off all the lights and closing his curtains. Once the light is gone, Asmo peers out from beneath the covers, “Do you live like this all the time?”

“Mostly, yeah.”

“No wonder your room is so dark. I thought you were just being dramatic.”

You shrug at him, “The Devildom is better than the human realm. There’s no bright sunlight here.”

Once the spell wears off, Asmo keeps the bracelet on both as a reminder of how you live with this chronic illness and as the intended purpose of showing how close the two of you are.

He buys you super dark glasses to try and filter out some of the bright light that bothers you.

and asks Solomon to help him find any magical treatments that might help you.

Beel:

Beel and you switch bodies after eating some of Solomon’s cooking.

Neither of you wants to eat Solomon’s cooking, but you had the misfortune to be the only two people who couldn’t find an excuse to get out of it.

Beel doesn’t know how it happened, Solomon doesn’t know how it happened, you sure as hell don’t know how this happened. But here you are with a strange magic ‘cake’ in hand, looking at your body from Beel’s eyes.

Your first thought is how strong you feel in Beel’s body. Like you could do anything. The exhaustion and joint pain you normally deal with is gone.

Is this how normal people live? Although you suppose a demon doesn’t count as a normal human, so it’s not such a good comparison.

You watch as Beel catches himself on the counter as he adjusts to the symptoms of your illness.

He lowers your body to the ground. Sitting gingerly as the movement causes the joint pain to flare.

“Mc, is this how you feel every day?” He is so so concerned about you! How do you function if you feel like this all the time? “Why haven’t you told anyone about this?”

“It’s ok, Beel. I’ve figured out how to deal with it.”

“It is not ok. Mc, we could have helped you!”

It’s strange to be lectured by your own voice and body. But Beel does a good job of it. He insists that you have to tell him when your symptoms act up and convinces you to let him speak with Lucifer about trying some magical treatments.

The potion doesn’t wear off for several hours. You feel a tad bit guilty about enjoying this when Beel is so obviously suffering, but you can’t remember the last time you felt so good. So capable.

Once the spell wears off Beel insists on carrying you around so you aren't as fatigued and to avoid aggravating your joint pain.

Be prepared for trying a string of different potions and spells to treat your illness, under the watchful eyes of Beel and Lucifer.

Solomon:

After hearing about Lucifer and Satan’s body-switching incident Solomon went looking for another cursed book.

He’d heard some rumor about Satan’s book having a twin and was determined to find it.

And find it he did.

You accidentally touched the book at the same time as him and switched bodies.

Solomon is more intrigued than anything else. “Do you live like this all the time? If so, you do a remarkable job of hiding it.”

He is going to test the limits of your body’s capabilities. He wants to know what situations cause pain or discomfort so that you can’t pretend to be ok when you aren’t.

You’ll have to warn him if he is doing anything that might permanently harm your body.

Unlike some of the others, Solomon doesn’t immediately look for a way to switch back.

When the spell wears off Solomon has a near-complete understanding of your condition. He knows what causes pain, what doesn’t, and what situations you should absolutely avoid.

“Mc, you need to stop pretending you are ok when you’re not. I’ll be here to help you when you need it. And if that help happens to be stopping you from doing foolish things to save face then so be it.”

Solomon keeps a close eye on you from now on. He respects you enough to not tell anyone about your condition if you don’t want him to, but he will also come up with the strangest excuses to remove you from activities he knows will aggravate your condition.

If there is magic that can be used to help you Solomon will find it. Just be prepared to feel a little bit like a lab rat while he figures out the perfect spell or potion to help you.

Simeon:

Simeon wants to know what it feels like to be human. He thinks it would give him a greater understanding of humanity.

He mentions this to Solomon, who being the chaos loving wizard he is, makes a potion to allow Simeon to switch bodies with you.

The problem occurs when Solomon 'forgets’ to tell you both that he’s already put the potion in your tea.

Simeon is shocked. He finds himself in your body. Looking at himself through your eyes. And by god does your body hurt!

“Mc, I’m dreadfully sorry, but I think Solomon’s little joke may have gone wrong. I-everything hurts.”

You blink at Simeon...er Simeon in your body. Mind taking a moment to catch up with the sudden body switch. You feel great. Part of that might be due to being in an angel's body, but mostly it's due to the lack of pain.

“Oh, everything's fine on my end. So it must be my chronic pain. It’s worse today than others.”

“Wh-what do you do when it’s bad?”

“Usually I try to distract myself. Or try to take a nap and hope I wake up feeling better. But we’d made plans and I didn’t want to cancel so…”

“So you decided to deal with extra pain for my sake? Oh, Mc. You should have told me you live like this. I can help”

“There’s no point, Simeon. Not a single doctor I’ve been to has found anything wrong with me. I didn’t want anyone here to pity me.”

“I am an angel, Mc. I’m quite sure I can do a bit more than your human doctors.”

You help Simeon to his room where you spend the afternoon watching human world movies to help distract him.

Simeon sleeps fitfully next to you and as you drift off you wonder if that is how you always look when you let your guard down enough to show your pain.

When the potion wears off you are both asleep, curled up next to each other.

When you wake up you are back in your own body. Simeon is sitting next to you slipping a charmed bracelet onto your wrist. “This is from the Celestial realm. It should help keep your pain at a more manageable level until I can find a more permanent solution.”

#obey me x reader #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me scenarios #obey me satan #satan x mc #obey me x mc #obey me x gender neutral reader #asmo x mc #asmo x reader #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me beel x mc #beel x mc #obey me solomon x mc #obey me solomon #obey me simeon x mc #obey me simeon x reader

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bloodycassian · 3 years

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Tender - Azriel x reader - Pregnancy fic. Fem! reader. LONG!!!

Prompt - Hi! I just read most of your imagines, and i loved them! You have me as your faithful follower, I don't comment much because English is not my first language. Could you write one where az manages to perceive that reader is pregnant right in the middle of the war?

You woke to yelling. Not screaming. Not fear or pain, but battle cries that you'd grown to love. They made your blood sing in harmony with the Illyrian voices. It made your heart hammer in your chest, and your muscles tense - ready to fight. Azriel groaned beside you, curling around your waist like a vise. You managed to break free from his muscled arms. Pale light shining through the tent tinted his shadows a light gray. They wrapped around you, drawing a chill down your spine. The war cries grew louder. "Get up. It's time." You shook him, pulling on your light armor. He covered his face with his hands, and did not leave the cot. He groaned again when you pulled the blanket off his mostly naked body. He was never a morning person. Cassian rushed in when you were putting the last of your gear on, and Az froze. His grip on his pants went white knuckled. Cassian's face was pale, and before he could say anything Azriel was hurriedly pulling on the rest of his clothes. Your stomach dropped at the sight of the Warlord. "It's a diversion." You said, voice hollow. Cassian's slight nod was enough to make the breath leave you. "It's going to be fine." Azriel grunted, pulling his tunic over his head. "We just need to move the troops. Get Rhys here." He waved a hand at his brother dismissively. Cassian grabbed Az's wrist. He forced the male to look at him, to see his worried eyes. You tensed, ready to defend your mate even against Cassian's might. "Rhys is on the battlefield already. We're on our own." His voice was low, and the warning in his eyes was enough to make the hair on your arms raise. Azriel pulled away from him, slowly. He began strapping his weapons belts on, pushed his hair back and sighed. "Where do you need us?" The air was cold, and the howls of battle echoed across the hills. Azriel's shadows curled around your legs, comforting. Then they slithered their way across the valley where the battle was beginning. + You could barely raise your sword by the end of it. The mud had been the most challenging part of the entire fight. The enemy horses had done a good job of making obstacles when they fell in the mud, lame with broken ankles and necks. You wished to put them out of their misery, but there was no time. The forces seemed to come in waves. Like a test against your small unit. Few were lost from your side. The dewey grass steamed in the morning light, carrying up the reek of enemy blood with it. You wiped your face, trying to get the taste of dirt and blood out of your mouth. Sharp stinging pain seared your ribs under your arm. You hissed. Then, you felt the warmth of your own blood. You swore, and looked for a medic that wasn't tending to wounded on the ground. Some Illyrian bodies were being lifted away, high into the air for burial at their homes. You dared not take a healer away from more critically injured soldiers. You nodded grimly to the ones that you passed. They were covered in blood, and yet still gave you fierce grins when you went by. They respected you. More than any other Illyrian Female before you. It was sad, but you hoped to forge a new path for other females of Illyria. You held an arm under your side and limped your way out of the mud. The packed mess inside your boots made moving your feet hard. You couldn't wait to shower. You spotted Cassian far down the field, and watched as he raised his sword high over his head. Your stomach twisted in pity for the suffering animal under him. You looked away before you could see the lifeblood drain from the horse's neck. He sent a blessing to the Mother for the animal, and continued on to the next suffering soul that would meet its end via his blade. + You hadn't seen her in a long while. Too long for a friend, but she gave you that same look she always did when she saw you hobbling up to her for help. Jeva was your favorite healer, and one you knew could keep a secret. She was round, and her voice was light and comforting. She smelled of nutmeg and berries. Something you had appreciated about her since you had met. "What is it this time?" She waved you inside, holding the tent flap open for you while you dumped your battle stained gear on the wood hutch beside the entrance. The tent was light and airy, filled with small plants of different varieties and cluttered with boxes and books everywhere. Her desk and bed were shoved to the corner, and a long wood table took up the majority of her area. As if she had known you were coming, she already had potions of different types laid out on the end of the table. "Probably nothing." You said, pulling off your armor as gingerly as you could manage. The soft light flickered and changed to a harsh beam when she laid you down on her exam table. "I'm not supposed to be healing anymore you know. I'm retired." She clicked her tongue at you, earning a pained grin. It was hard for you to bother a healer for any amount of time for something that you were sure was so small. But something about it stung too much for it to be just a scrape. And you knew Cassian would lecture you about it being infected if he saw through your mask to the pain. Az would force you to see one anyway as soon as he learned of it. "You know I wouldnt be here unless I had to be, Jeva." You said through your teeth as she cut away your muddied undershirt. "Oh, I know. That's why I have my best potions ready." She laughed, then paused. Your shirt lay limp on the table. Her eyebrows knitted together at the sight of your open wound. "Is it bad?" You asked, craning to try to look for yourself. She held you down. "Metal. Fragments are still in here, likely why it hasn't healed yet." You relaxed at that, grateful that it wasn't worse. "Thank the Mother. Az would have yelled all night." You rolled your eyes, and sighed as she started working on you. The first part was always the worst. The stinging hot potion that made the nerves around the wound numb. "One-" She began her countdown, then poured. You growled at her, gripping the end of the stained table hard enough to crack. "Easy..." She warned, and smoothed down your hair. She knew how to take care of her patients, that was certain. You relaxed as the stinging eased. The dull ache that it left behind turned into a bad memory. "I'm going to extract the blade then we can close you up. Simple and easy." She picked up her tools and began tugging away at your side. You could have fallen asleep with the relief the numbing potion brought. And with her humming in the air around you, it was a struggle not to. The time seemed to pass quickly, but when the clank of the metal tools jolted you from your dozing, the tent was lit in orange from the sunset outside. "Relax, we're going to close it up now. Once the potion wears off you will still be sensitive." She placed her hands over you, and the familiar warm vibrations of her healing magic set in. Then it stopped abruptly. You cracked open an eye, then narrowed your brows at her. "What is it?" You said gently, then again when she didnt reply. She stared at you, mouth agape. Her eyes locked to yours, even when you sat up to demand she tell you what the problem was. "Am I dying?!" you took her hand gently, in case she was going to push you away. Then she started laughing, her hand gripping yours back. The warmth glowed in your palm, the light radiating out from it was starkly contrasting the tent walls bedecked in orange. The light she emitted shot through you, and you felt the wound tingle, and seal. You stared at her in shock. That amount of healing power was incredible. Especially for field medics. "Youre not dying, no..." She waved a hand, fanning herself. Her eyes were glassy with tears. She sniffed and clutched your hand tighter. "Quite the opposite, darling." She pulled you in for a warm hug. + You spent the rest of the evening with Jeva. Until she got a hurried message about student healers needing help on the battlefield. You stayed in her tent as long as you could manage with the ringing in your ears. You stared and stared at the mirror across from you, showing you the bloodied warrior that you wanted to be. That you wanted to stay. The warrior that carried the Shadowsinger's child. The thought made tears sting your eyes. You refused to let them fall. You had been ignoring his tugs down the bond for well over an hour. You knew he was concerned, but you couldn't bring yourself to shout back down. The only thing that echoed in your mind were Jeva's words "You're pregnant..." Pregnant. Pregnant. Pregnant. You nearly punched her when she told you she wasn't joking. The only reason you even believed her was because of that powerful zap of healing she sent to you. That she sent to scan your body and make sure the fetus was okay before you even knew about it. You could barely hear half the words she said as she told you your options. You roiled with the thought now. The Mugwart she left on the table was daunting. You desperately wanted her back. Jeva would be able to deliberate with you. You knew she would tell you to do whatever makes you happy. You knew that. But you wondered how ethical the choice that made you happy was. Bringing a child into a world of war seemed cruel. Even if it made you happy. You distantly noticed Azriel as you passed him, walking to the forest edge just passed your tent. Worry laced the bond between you. You tried not to show anything back. But you knew he felt the tension, the void there. "Where the hell have you been?!" Azriel's eyes were furious when you passed him, his wings flared out slightly. You couldnt even look at him with anger back. Your emotions ran wild. You were frozen, and as numb as the potion Jeva had given you when she began removing the blade. "Do you know how worried I have been?! I sent Cassian to-" He tried to grab for your hand to stop you, but you flicked him away. He stopped for a moment, stunned. Then returned with more energy than before. That yawning abyss in your bond was growing darker with shame, worry and anxiety. His shadows roiled around him as he caught up. "You dont get to-" "Azriel..." You stopped in the edge of the clearing. The small meadow was silent in the darkness, not even the monsters of Prythian dared roar tonight. Your mind did all the roaring you could handle, anyway. You tried to focus on the swaying grass, on the soft smell of wet bark and pine hanging in the air. "Dont try to excuse this I need to know you're okay and-" He stormed in front of you, ready to burst with rage. His fear always made him angry. And for good reason after losing so many close to him. A tear ran down your cheek, your face burned hot with hundreds of feelings at once. Fear, pain, shock, joy, hope.... elation. You wanted his children. You wanted to help raise his child. You wanted to see Azriel be a father. You knew he would be the best damn Illyrian father there had ever been. The thought hit you like a well placed punch. He saw your paleness, your tears and stopped his yelling. You fell to your knees, the mud splattering all around you. You wanted to lay down. Lay down and think about the implications of carrying his child. Would it be good for the baby to be born at all? Just because you wanted it didnt mean it needed to happen. You knew that Jeva would give you a potion to extract it without hesitation if it was what you wished. "I'm-" You choked out, fighting the panic that flooded you. Your mind roiled with the conflict of your mind and heart. It turned you into a muddied, dark ocean on the bond. A turmoil that he couldn't see past. If you were an ocean, he was your lighthouse on the cliffside. Signaling you home. His eyes darted to your body, to your hands and how they wrung together in front of you. "I'm sorry. I just-" He sighed and took one of your hands. "I'm sorry." He kissed the back of it and brought his forehead to yours. He normally needed a lot longer to cool down after a fight, but seeing you in tears shocked him out of his pride. "I shouldn't have said that... I know you can take care of yourself." his voice was low, and he ran a hand comfortingly down your back. A hysteric laugh bubbled from your throat. It sounded like a sob. You didn't know exactly which it was. He sat back and pulled you into his lap, despite the grass being dewey and damp. He rocked you there for a few seconds before you had to tell him. Before he could be too close if he didnt want you anymore. The doubt crept into your head, and the nerves ate at you. Your heart raced, you could feel it in your neck. "Azriel..stop." You pushed away from him, to catch his beautiful dark eyes. They were painted in a silver hue by the moon above. You took in his face, the curve of his cheeks and lips for possibly the last time. You had to consider the worst possible outcome. You braced yourself for the rejection, for the pain of his reaction. You knew it had to come out. You knew you had to say it now or you never would. Your stomach flipped over and over. You opened your mouth, a soft sob wracking out of you before you began. He froze. Went utterly still, his shadows even stopping for a second before whirling faster than before. Your eyes went wide. His nose flared, eyes narrowed. He held you closer, sniffing at your neck. He pulled back and his eyes were even wider than before. His mouth fell open when you nodded. "I'm-" "Youre-" his face went through a whirlwind of different emotion. Then, he broke out into a small laugh. He couldn't stop. You felt the tears running down your cheeks and didnt bother to wipe them away. "Honey... I'm sorry." He stopped laughing suddenly. "What do you want to do?" His eyes were masked, his expression the most serious you'd ever seen him. His aura on your bond seemed to go completely gray and still, as if he didn't want you to see him. He masked everything. In preparation for whatever you decide. The gesture made your heart squeeze in appreciation. You stammered, resting your forehead on his. "I dont know." You muttered, voice cracking. Then, he was wrapping his arms around you in a smothering hug. When he pulled away, he cradled your face in his hands. The hands that had seen so much cruelty in his life. The possibilities of the same thing happening to your child made your heart race. "I'm here for whatever decision you make." He brushed your cheek with a thumb. You nodded and let him hold you like that for a while. Quietly rocking back and forth with you in his lap. + You were near falling asleep when the war cries rang out again. Illyrians howling for their leaders to join them. Another onslaught of death coming their way. The calls were distant, but Azriel tensed the second he heard them. Your blood went cold. He buried his face to your chest, as if he wished he could hide there. "I'm not going." He said when you tried pushing him away. "I wont leave you." He promised, locking his muscled forearms around you. The echoes of battle cries faded. He stroked your hair, and traced his fingers along your back. Then he swore. "Let me take care of this." He said, voice edged with anger. Nerves pricked at your stomach, but you stood, wobbling on your feet slightly. He took off into the night sky painted in silvers and blues by the full moon. Then came racing back down right behind Rhys. the high lord took one breath and then he was hugging his brother. Azriel shoved him off, and they shot into the night sky. Well, Azriel did. He dragged Rhys with him. Grunts of pain and fleshy sounds of punching rang out. You followed them high into the air where they had their conversation. Your wings led you around them with ease. "Stop fighting and use your words, boys." You warned. You recognized Azriels growl and smiled to yourself as they broke apart. Rhys adjusted his tunic and cleared his throat. "I need you there. Cassian is handling the Western front, the others need a leader." Azriel began protesting against the high lord. "I cant with my mate-" "I know it feels impossible right now but-" "I will not, Rhys-" You set your jaw. If they wanted to fight over if you needed protection or not, you would take the option off the table all together. "I'll go." you said, voice strong since hearing Jeva announce what grew inside you. Pregnant, pregnant, pregnant. You shoved the thoughts away as far as you could. They both turned to you, horror striking Azriels features. "Absolutely not. No." Heat and rage flared down the bond. It made you want to defy everything he said. You locked eyes with him and glared. Rhys glanced between you with tense shoulders. He cleared his throat. "It would be a good compromise, Azriel. You can go together to the Eastern front. Think about it." He placed a hand on his brother's shoulder and gave him a grim smile. "I wont say a word." He said, summoning the darkness around him then winnowing away. Azriel's cold eyes made him look like a statue. "Let's go." He said, and started circling lower. Back to the meadow. "I'm going, you cant stop me from following you." You said, expecting a fight. He said nothing. You were met with that silence that drove others crazy tryin to find out what he wanted from them. The bond seemed to snap taut, then go into a relaxed state. He was hiding. You knew it, but would rather have silence and peace than him trying to fight you again. He walked you back to the tent, and exhaustion took you under before you could remember him laying down with you. You hoped it it was exhaustion, and not whatever the baby was doing to you. Despite your best efforts, you couldn't resist the urge to cradle your belly while you slept. There was no bump, but it felt like the most natural thing to do now that you were aware of the being inside you. You slept hard, and awoke to the breakfast bell chiming. The sounds of slow footsteps marching through the mud kept you awake. Azriel was gone, but the candle on the table was lit. A note lay there waiting for you. His messy scrawl made you smile, the familiarity of his writing reminded you of the notes he would leave you when he had to leave early for meetings with Rhys. "Back by nightfall, lover. A guard is at the tent, ask her to bring you anything you need. -A" You peeked outside the tent to see Jeva there, her long fur coat shimmering in the morning light. Her breath clouded in front of her when she gave you a soft smile. "Good morning." She pulled a muffin from her coat. "Your favorite." She winked, and you pulled her inside. She had a fire roaring by the time you finished your food. "How are you not freezing?" She complained, blowing into her hands to keep them warm. You brushed the crumbs from your shirt and really took into account the changes you'd noticed lately. How hungry you'd been, how tired after the easiest days. "Do you know... How um..." You gestured to your stomach. She gave a small smile and nodded. "Only a month or so." She said quietly. You stared at your stomach, as if waiting for something to answer you. To give some sort of affirmation that Jeva was right. She continued warming herself by the fire, and soon the tent was filled with her warm chestnut smell. Cassian entered the tent when you were starting to doze off again. The wool blanket on your lap reminded you of a time when you first met Az. Your heart squeezed at the memory of those long nights shared together by a fire. Taking your turns on watch duty. You shook yourself from the memory. Cassian froze. His face scrunched up at the sight of you. The scent, you realised. You swore to yourself, and Jeva only nodded when he looked to her. "Youre pregnant?" He asked breathlessly, and you could smell the fear and excitement coming from him. In fact, you could smell the smoked meat on his breath. And the cold air that clung to him from outside. It was refreshing, like a cool drink on a hot day amid the dry heat inside the tent. "I'm sorry, I shouldnt have.." He ran a hand through his hair, trying to remain focused. "Its okay, Cass. What's going on? Az left me this note." You handed it to him. His lips moved as he read it. He went white as bone. Your stomach dropped. + Azriel had gone in the night to take out the entire eastern flank with a small group of Illyrians. You felt your world skittering away as Cassian told you. Your vision went blurry, and tears fell, dripping on your hands that clenched the wool blanket. "He's on his way here now. He had to answer to Rhys first." Cassian waited for you to say anything. But your lips just couldnt form the words. The hurt, anger... the betrayal you felt for him going to battle without you. And defying a direct order from his high lord like a fool. "I suggest you leave before Azriel comes back. It may get messy." Jeva spoke for you, and you were grateful. You gave Cassian a nod of thanks before he turned and left. The cold wind that blew in from the door gave you goosebumps. "Take it easy, you dont want to be too stressed." Jeva handed you a mug of tea and gave you a small squeeze. You could smell Azriel before he entered. Jeva shot him a glare, but said nothing. "I'll be in my tent if you need me." She promised, gave you a look that said 'find me after' and left. Azriel took off his armor plates one by one. A bit too slowly to be considered normal. Stalling. You said nothing. You let the tension roil out of you, let it hit him down the bond. Like a wave getting ready to break. He rolled his shoulders, stretched his wings. The mask he wore cracked when he saw your fists balled in the blanket. "I couldnt risk you... or the babe." He tried to hide the fear that shone through. The fear of his mate or child being hurt in battle. He wouldnt be able to stand it. The fight was needed, anyway. He needed to get out his instincts to protect protect protect. You said nothing. You let that looming wave grow larger. He sighed, and sat at the end of the cot beside you. "I'm sorry. I needed....I needed to get my head straight. I should have told you. I'm sorry." That wave crashed, not on him though. Internally, guilt and fear melting in on yourself. "I cant lose you, we... We cant." You said through your teeth, trying to hold back the tears that begged to spill over. He tried his best to hold back his surprise. "We?" He asked, a small smile playing on his full lips. You gave him a grim smile. "If you're...ready to be a father. I like imagining you, with my child." "Our child." He said with a bubbling laugh. You laughed with him, and it turned to hysterics. He wiped tears from the corner of your eyes. "We're going to have a baby?" He cradled your face, looking into your eyes. You took one of his hands, and placed it on your flat belly. "Yes. We are." You said, voice quivering. He wrapped you into a hug, and you cried together in the cot.

#acotar #acotar fic #reader x azriel #azriel x reader #azriel

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