#and i feel the true pain of it like a wave and i cry

[dreamsofyexiao]

I'm still so fucking angry over something that happened three months ago i will never be over it feeling as though i don't matter at all having my words and things that felt important to me snatched away with no regard to what i felt or what it could have meant to me having my words taken and my person dismissed being erased from something i started this is what gets to me this is what makes me heavy with sadness and then seering with a violent anger i still feel it I'm never over it and i promise i will never let myself go through that again i will fight i will get angry and i will get mean i don't care i can't let that happen to me ever again and then carry on the pain it never ever goes away

[oreo-creampie]

“𝐜𝐮𝐦 𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧’ 𝐨𝐟𝐟 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 (𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐝𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲!)”

𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭! Sukuna fucks you, queen of the fae, into a messy cum covered whore

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬! queen of the fae!reader, demon king!sukuna (true-form), size kink, hentai logic lets say his monster sized cock fits in your fairy cunt, pussy drunk, overstimulation/hints of mindbreak, cock-drunk, monster sized cocks one has a knot the other is softly ribbed, HUGE HUGE HUGE SIZE KINK, sensitive wings, squirting, degradation/some praise, sukuna is 10ft tall in this one, your pussy is like a pocket of holding and it can take that shit, lets say you have tits even if you don’t for this one, titty fucking, double pentration (cunt and anal), pain kink, restraining/rough manhandling, fucking you in front of a mirror then on the bed, reader has magical abilities, sukun eats your ass a little with one of his hand’s mouth, sukuna is mean but gentle with your wings, pussy slapping, some anal fingering (he doesn't touch you with the hand after), belly bulge from both his cock and cum, squirting his cum when he pushes on your stomach, he covers you in his cum too, fingering

Fey; i get it if you judge me for this one, but in my defense my coochie held me at gun point to write this one. I'm giving you one more warning to use hentai logic with this one!!!

Sukuna strokes the base of your iridescent wings making them stretch out and flutter. Trembling, arching your back, digging your nails into the arm of the hand clenching your waist. Getting off on how Sukuna can hold you up, to use like a cocksleeve, with one massive hand.

“I look so big taking your stupid lil bratty ass from behind, look at yourself, you’re built like a handheld toy for me to use whenever I want.” Sukuna that’s massive, from his height to his hands, to the cocks stretching out both of your sloppy wet holes.

He croons, “You’re hot crying with your tiny wings fluttering n’ your stomach bulging.” Slowly stretching your wings out then pulling you upright by a firm grasp on your throat. Your wings occasionally brush Sukuna’s warm chest.

Your sloppy wet cunt is gushing on his cock, thick warm cum squirts and trickles onto the floor. Both of your wet holes quiver, clenching his thick cocks.

Sukuna moans, “Stupid slutty lil princess make a mess on my cocks, cumming so damn much you’ve made a puddle on the floor.

His four eyes fixating on how his thick knot tugs on your cunt. “Nnnn look at that you’re clenching me too tightly for me to pull out?” You squirm and cry when he sucks on your clit with a hand’s mouth.

Insisting, “Princess? I'm a queen?!” He licks your cock-stuffed cunt with a hand’s tongue. When he moves his hand away you’re fixating on how your cunt is split into a perfect circle by his thick knot.

Sharply crying when Sukuna pinches your sensitive clit. “Yet you’re taking my cocks like a common whore.” He roughly pulls his knot and cocks out eliciting a needy whine from you when you’re empty.

Dropping you on the massive nearby bed which floats with with a wave of your hand. “It doesn't make me any less a queen.” Spreading your legs for him, “It just means I'm a queen whose a greedy monster cock loving slut.”

Sukuna pins your thighs by your side, lining his bottom cock up and nudging your asshole with his cockhead. Unlike his other cock’s blunt head it has a thinner cone-shaped like tip, which gets thicker after each soft ridge.

He rests his other cock on top of you, covering your cunt and resting between your tits. “And to think you were just takin’ me in your soft lil‘ cunt, I knew fae magic was something else but this is isn't what I expected.” His cock is so big, yet he feels no deeper than your belly button when inside.

Pressing your breasts together, squeezing his fat cock. He grabs your hair yanking your head up, making you look at his cock peeking out from between your tits.

Sukuna groans when you lick his cockhead. “I wonder how much you can take before your magic runs out and you break.” Slowly rolling his hips fucking your soft ass, his cock on top stroking your sensitive clit.

Pleading with Sukuna, “Break me, fuck! Nnn it won't be too long before I'm ready for more! Please! I can't get enough they’re so big, I can't get enough! Please fuck me with both cocks please! Please! Please!” He covers your mouth sticking his fat tongue into your mouth, you can faintly taste yourself.

“What? You’re looking up at me like you want to kiss some different lips.” He smirks gliding himself out of your ass and takes his other cock off your body to let them both hang

He leans down, “Hah you’re too small to properly kiss me.” You lean forward covering his larger lips in kisses, sliding your fingers into his hair.

“I can cover you in kisses.” Sukuna’s lips covers your cheek when he kisses you. Standing up he’s a ten foot monstrous demon and you love it. You love how small you feel beneath him, restrained in a mating press for him to mercilessly fuck both sensitive, sloppy wet holes.

He roughly smacks your cunt, licking your asshole with his thick tongue. The sharp pain rips wonderfully through the pleasure of having your ass ate. Loudly pleading, “Fuck me please, please fuck me. I wanna cum again!”

“Greedy lil brat is a better title for you, after you squirted and made a mess all over my floor you’re begging to cum again.” Another harsh slap to your cunt has you crying.

Pleading with Sukuna, “Im a greedy slut for your thick cocks! I can't help it! It feels like I'm about to go into heat. Please use whatever hole you want my King it gets me off how you use me for your pleasure.” Grabbing the bottle of lube left on the bed, taking his tongue out of your ass.

He pours a lot onto your tight hole then stuffs it in with two thick fingers. Some of the lube drips onto the sheets, “Good girl.” Pumping his fingers faster, smearing the lube. “Call me me your King again.”

He lines himself up, “Please fuck me My King.” He roughly stuffing both holes in a swift thrust. Your body tenses up with a sudden jolt, he’s too big. And being unable run away from the overwhelming intensity magnifies it.

Sukuna demands, “This is my sloppy lil’ cunt to cum in till I get bored of you. Say it!” Putting his weight into your thrust watching your stomach expand when his cock nestles in deep.

“Nnnn!” You can’t focus his words his cock stretching out both holes making the strip of skin between go taunt. You’re a fuck toy for him and it feels so good.

He’s so perfect from cocky smirk, to the condescending way he is looking down at you, and his thick cocks stirring you up pushing you towards cumming again.

He sneers, “Are you already too cock drunk?” Trailing his fingers gently along the top of one of your expanded wings. “Be a good girl and tell me who owns you brat.” Licking your clit with his stomach’s tongue, the pleasure is building rapidly.

Even after squirting on his cock he’s getting you this worked up so fast. It's hard not to with the intense stimulation from Sukuna licking your clit whilst mercilessly fucking you sloppy holes into a loose with his monster cocks.

You whine, “You do my King! ‘S your cunt! Nnn I wanna covered in your cum.” Picking up his pace, even with your magic the bed is rocking. “Fuck you’re so big! Nnnn please please! I'm your good girl.” Grabbing his thick, tattooed forearms, digging your nails in.

“Good girls get cummed in don’t they?” He fondled your breasts, biting and sucking on your nipple. The way he’s toying with your body is wonderful.

You beg him, “We shouldn't, we aren't married, but I want you to! Nnnn! Fuck! You’d cum so much, I would be so full!” Softly clutching the sheets when he flicks your tongue faster, adding a little more pressure. “I wanna feel your warm cum.”

A couple more strokes and your reasoning is quickly crumbling as you cum. All you can think about are his cocks throbbing inside you, filling both holes up. It’s too tempting you're begging with Sukuna, “Please cum! Please cum! Wanna feel your warm thick cum!”

He wonders, “How long did you spend making a spell that can let you take cocks bigger than you should. Or did it come naturally to a slut like you?”

You’re unable to process his question instead you’re loudly moaning, “Please cum! Please! Please! My king! Daddy! Sir! Please! Suukunnna.” Sukuna squeezes your throat and lifts you off the bed. Using his grasp on your throat and his to make you meet his merciless thrusts.

It’s hot to hear Sukuna sound so needy as he whines, “Nn!!! Nn! ‘S tight, wet! Fuck!” He grabs your hair yanking your head back so he can watch you cry while he fucksyou. Keeping eye contact with two eyes while the other two fixate on how your stomach bulges.

Softly growling and grunting “Mine! All fuckin! Nnnnn! Stupid pretty lil’ brat.” His jaw drops with needy loud whines as he loses himself in the intoxicating pleasure of your wet holes clenching his cocks.

There is a crash as the bed hits the floor. Sukuna turns around and lies down on an uneven half-broken bed. He digs his heels into the bed and roughly rutting his hips. “Fuck so damn hot! So fucking small, I wanna make you cry and ruin your tight cunt.”

You lean forward resting your hands on his abs above his stomach’s mouth. “Please cum! Sukuna please!” He softly growls then fucks you harder making it hard for you to string a word together in between your cries.

His brows pinch together and his jaw drops with a loud groan. “C-cum on mmmmm!” It’s impossible to think with the way your soft, soaking-wet holes are gripping and rubbing his cock. Your tears rolling down your beautiful face spurring him on getting him so close to cumming inside you.

“Cry! Louder! Fuck me!” Your cunt spasms as you cum on Sukuna’s thick cock. Sukuna’s eyes roll back, shoulders curl in and he tosses his head back. Whining loudly, “Nnn too-too too tight! Too much! Please!” Thick hot cum spurts in your stomach making it swell.

When he lets your throat go you use your first steady breath to whine “Please?” Sukuna's cheeks flushes a dark shade of pink matching his hair. He stuffs a finger in your mouth and fondles your soft breast, sucking on your nipple.

His cock pulses as more thick cum keeps trickling out. Your aching holes spasm around his cock. It’s wonderful to be so full of Sukuna’s cum and cocks.

He rolls over, towering over you with two massive cocks stuffed in each hole. “Don’t think this means we are done. Im going to clean up then see if your lil’ bratty cunt can take both of my cocks.” Slowly gliding his cocks out, Sukuna pushes on your building stomach making his cum squirts onto his hand and the bed.

Sukuna smears his thick cum over your thighs, tits, and waist. Gliding his finger inside you costing himself in cum which he stuffs into your mouth. “How do we taste?” You groan whilst sucking his thick finger as he hold his dirty hand to your asshole, licking your cum filled asshole.

He pulls his finger out with a wet pop. “Bitter, but I love being filled with and feeling your cum gushing out of me!” Lifting you off the bed by your hair Sukuna dangles you in front of the mirror.

“You look hotter covered and dripping with my cum.” He glides a thick finger into your cunt, pushing more thick cum out of you faster with slow pumps.

Letting your hair go causing you to flutter your wings to afloat. “How long can you keep hovering with those little wings while I'm fingering you?”

all works

[aemondsbabe]

Little Love

summary: aegon comes to your chambers crying and needing comfort, but what happens when your husband walks in?

pairing: aemond targaryen x reader x aegon ii targaryen

warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, mommy kink!! i cannot stress that enough!! astronomical amounts of titty suckin', nipple/breast play, oral (f receiving), handjob, fingering, piv, angst but happy ending, hand on throat but no choking, subby aegon, breeding kink, creampie, consensual threeway relationship, let me know if i missed any!

word count: 6k oops

a/n: header image is for aesthetics only & is not used to describe the reader! a huge huge thanks to my honorary wife & this fics adoptive mother @toms-cherry-trees 🩵 thank you for all your help with this one!!

likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!

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“Aww,” you coo softly, eyes filled with adoration as you study the man on your lap, “Are you mommy’s precious little baby? Hm?” You brush a silvery lock of hair off of his face, trailing your thumb over the light flush across his cheeks as your other hand rubs soothingly over one of his biceps. 

Aegon hummed and nodded as best he could around your pert nipple, bright eyes lazily blinking up at you. One of your thumbs gently sweeps away tears from the corners of his eyes while you gently rock him as best you can, gazing at him with a smile. You stay quiet for a while, taking pleasure in the way he clings to you so needily, the way he’s looking at you as if you hung the stars in the sky. 

You can’t help the sigh that leaves your lips at the feel of his warm mouth around your nipple, his tongue flicking and teasing at the sensitive skin as he carefully suckles it in his mouth. “Shh,” you whisper, calming Aegon when you see another wave of tears threatening to spill from his violet eyes, “I promise there is nothing to worry yourself over, my little prince,” you tell him softly, trying to squeeze him somehow closer to you, “Just rumors, nothing more.”

You couldn’t help but feel protective of Aegon, your heart twisting as you remember the state he was in at the beginning of the evening when he had first loudly burst into your chamber. 

The fire in the hearth warmed your skin as you sat on the sofa in the small sitting area of yours and Aemond’s chambers, easily guiding the needle through the fabric of your embroidery as you hummed a song. With a sigh, you held the hoop up and tilted your head as you examined your work, nearly dropping it when you jumped at the sound of the heavy doors of your chambers crashing open. 

You jumped up, whirling around to see who could’ve possibly been disturbing you in such a manner, already glaring before you’d even turned your head. Your narrowed eyes widened however when you saw Aegon striding toward you, a pained look on his face.

“Is it true?” He had questioned, coming to a stop a little ways away from you, voice shaking even through the angry tone of his voice. 

“Is what true?” Your eyebrows furrowed together in confusion as you clasped your hands in front of you. 

His frown had faltered for a second, eyes already sparkling with tears as his hands clenched at his sides. “The whispers in court,” he explained, gaze flitting from you to the stone floor, “The rumors about – about you and my brother.” 

Shaking your head, you had carefully walked toward him, “My love, I am sure they are untrue,” your voice had been gentle, “I cannot even imagine what they would be ab—“ 

“That you’re pregnant!” His voice was thick with unshed tears as he spit out the words, “That you must be!” This had left you dumbfounded, unable to do anything but gawk at him, which had only served to upset him further. He had sighed heavily and fixed you with a tearful gaze, bottom lip quivering, “So it’s true?” 

“No!” You rushed out, emphatically shaking your head as you hurried to him. “My love, my sweet baby,” your fingers carded through his hair when you reached him. You had gently pulled his gaze to yours before you had cupped his cheeks, your fingers already damp from the tears streaking them, “That is nothing more than court gossip, I promise you. I swear upon the Mother, you’ve nothing to worry about.” 

The dam had finally broken as he hiccuped out a sob, his shoulders sagging. “D-Do you mean it?” He’d asked meekly, voice so small you had felt your heart squeeze painfully in your chest. 

“Oh,” you had taken his hands in yours and led him to your bed, sitting him down at the edge as his body started shaking with sobs. Sitting next to him, you wrapped your arms around his neck, gently cupping the back of his head as he slumped against you and rested a wet cheek against your chest. “My little prince, I swear to you I do,” you pressed a kiss to the top of his head, rocking the two of you together, “You know Aemond and I would not do that to you.” 

His fingers had clung to your sides as he sobbed, hands bunching in the fabric of your gown. “They’re saying it’s been long enough,” he’d said mournfully, “Th-That it’s been three moons since the w-wedding and y-you must be by now.” 

You’d stroked his hair comfortingly and rested your chin on the top of his head, feeling his hot tears trail down your cleavage, “You know your brother and I would speak with you first, my love. We would not leave you out, you know how this arrangement works.”

The only answer you got was a small sniffle, his shoulders still trembling, although not nearly as badly. You had let him calm down for a moment more, rocking him against you while you hummed his favorite song. 

Eventually, he had calmed down, his shoulders steadying and his breath evening out. You had almost assumed he was asleep before you heard him whimper against your collarbone, pink lips mouthing needily at your skin. Your lips had quirked up in a smile as you had gently pulled him up, his small whine making you chuckle as you looked into his eyes.

“Do you need some time with mommy, my little love?”

Which is how you found yourself in your current position – reclined on the plush pillows of your bed with Aegon’s head in your lap, his lips eagerly suckling at your breast, not getting any real milk but the action calmed him still. You shiver slightly in the cool breeze that wafts in from the balcony, the air growing colder now that the sun has set. 

Aegon sighs contentedly, his warm breath fanning across your chest as small whimpers and whines slip past his lips. The small noises make you chuckle as you run a hand over his bare chest, “You’re my favorite little prince, do you know that?” You whisper, softly tickling his side enough to make him giggle and squirm. He smiles around your breast and nods happily, his nose digging into the fat of your breast as he presses himself more firmly against you. 

You stiffen a little at the sound of your chamber door opening once again, unable to see the entryway from the decorative screen you and your husband had placed in front of the bed. You make no move to disturb Aegon, though – bless the poor maids but there is not much they haven’t seen already. It is not a maid, however, that rounds the corner and you are instead met with the wide, surprised eye of your husband. 

After a second, the shock melts off of his face and he smirks at the sight of the two of you, his older brother still suckling away at your breast as if nothing were amiss. “My, my,” he tuts, stalking across the room to deposit the stack of books he carries onto the small breakfast table by the balcony before returning his attention to you once more, “I left my wife this morning dripping with my spend and already I return to a babe.”

“Aemond!” You hiss, frowning when you hear Aegon whimper at your chest, “Please, he is already in a state.”

“And in our chambers,” Aemond takes a seat at the table, unlacing his boots before setting them to the side, along with his leather tunic, “Normally you two reserve this… intimacy for his rooms.” His long fingers quickly untie his trousers, leaving them hanging from his slender waist as he moves about your chambers, poking the fire in the hearth back to life and tidying the papers on the writing desk. 

You soothe Aegon when he whimpers again, looking up at you with questioning, unsure eyes as a blush blooms on his cheeks. Even if his brother knows the details of your relationship with him, and even though he had walked in on him in this exact position before, he couldn’t help but feel so shy and vulnerable when he got this way. 

“Shh, my sweet,” you speak softly to the man at your breast, running your fingers through his pale hair, “Just relax, you’re okay.” Your words seem to settle him and his eyes grow droopy and half-lidded once more, a contented groan rumbling through his chest. 

“You should have seen him earlier,” you turn back to Aemond, eyes following him as he walks to your dressing table, “Poor thing came crying about court gossip.” You didn’t miss the small eye roll your husband gave at you calling his brother “poor thing” but you chose to ignore it for the time being; you didn’t love their endless taunts and teasing but they were still brothers, after all. 

“And what was the sweet babe weeping about this time?” Aemond asks, his voice dripping with derision as he takes a cloth from the small wash basin on the dressing table and quickly wipes at his neck and shoulders, droplets of water streaming down his defined frame and running into the lines and dips of the muscles on his chest, arms, and abdomen. 

Aegon growls at your chest, not missing the mockery in his brother’s tone. You try to calm him but it’s no use, he pulls off of your chest and throws Aemond a vicious look; you merely make yourself comfortable against the pillows and sigh tiredly. Gods be good, you thought, staring up at the stone ceiling as if the Seven would appear to offer their guidance; you love the two brothers more than anything else but you could do without their brotherly spats. 

“Well?” Aemond goads, his eye widening as he stares at his brother, a silent challenge.

“He feared I was pregnant,” you interject quickly, attempting to quell the coming squabble before it broke out, “Apparently the ladies of court have nothing better to do than monitor my condition.” You put an arm around Aegon as you speak, as if keeping him close to you would keep the two men from bickering. 

“You are my wife,” Aemond huffs out a sardonic laugh, a smirk playing at his lips as he wrings out the cloth and leaves it to dry on the side of the wash basin, “Why would it be of his concern if –”

Aegon growls against your breast again, letting your nipple fall from his pink lips as he fixes his brother with a glare, one that falters for half a second as you protectively tighten your hold on him. His dark eyes continue to glare at Aemond, following his every move as he comes to stand at the side of the bed, arms crossed over his chest as he studies the two of you. 

“Hush, my love,” you pet at his head and shoulders in an attempt to soothe him once more, glaring at your husband in warning, “This is nothing we need worry ourselves with tonight.” 

Aemond comes to sit next to you on the bed, giving Aegon a quick glare before he leans down and places a tender kiss to the top of your head. “You’re right,” he says into your hair, one hand coming up to cup the side of your face, “We need not trouble ourselves with it tonight.” 

Aegon huffs against your chest once more and gives his brother a final warning glance before looking up at you with a questioning gaze, pouty lips parted in an unspoken question. 

“You need some more time with mommy?” You ask him softly, grinning when he shyly nods, still so skittish of his needs around his brother. You coo and give him a nod, unable to stop the sigh that leaves you at the feel of his mouth on you once more. His tongue delicately licks at your hardened nipple before he sucks it into his mouth, still teasing it as he suckles. 

You admire him for a moment, studying the way his long lashes fan out over his cheeks once his eyes slip closed, his arms wrapped protectively around your middle as he kneels at your side. 

Finally, you turn your head to Aemond, surprised to see his eye trained on his brother, watching as he nurses at your breast. “Husband?” You ask tentatively; your relationship with both brothers was not a secret, at least not between the three of you, but even still, you rarely had them at the same time. 

His eye finally meets yours and he smiles, cuddling you closer, which earns a small whine from Aegon as he’s forced to move a fraction of an inch with you. “You needn’t worry so much,” he keeps his voice soft as he speaks, trailing kisses down your temple and cheek, “I’m merely thinking.” 

“About?”

“Putting a babe in you,” he all but growls into your ear before kissing the delicate skin just below it. “Seeing you grow with my child,” he continues, one hand skimming up your arm before he cups your unoccupied breast, long fingers kneading it gently before they pinch at your nipple, “Watching as these swell with your sweet milk.”

A shiver rolls through you at the thought, and at the salacious groan that vibrates from Aegon’s mouth. Your husband smirks at your reaction, watching proudly as your eyes become cloudy and unfocused. 

“Do you like that?” Aemond asks against the column of your throat as his lips and teeth and tongue work against your skin, sucking marks into the flesh, “Like the thought of my seed filling you up, finally taking root?” 

You hardly register Aegon’s whine, eyes squeezed shut as you feel your husband pressing himself to you, lips pressing against any bit of your skin he can reach, chuckling softly at how easy it is to work his brother up. “Wouldn’t that be something, brother?” Aemond questions sarcastically, his eye glimmering mischievously, “Wouldn’t she be so beautiful with my babe in her?”

The older brother grumbles something against you before redoubling his efforts, making you gasp as he begins suckling at you harshly, nose twitching in annoyance. You calm him as best you can, a shaky hand coming up and carding delicately through his hair – Aemond’s ministrations making it hard to concentrate. 

“You’ll be such a good mother, sweetling,” Aemond says lowly, kissing his way down your stomach as he moves to kneel between your thighs, “So perfect and sweet and caring.” He continues, punctuating each word with a kiss against your abdomen, his long hair tickling the skin of your thighs. 

“Aemond,” you pant softly, back arching as Aegon’s teeth just barely graze against your sensitive nipple, “Please!” You beg, though whether it’s to get him to stop taunting his brother or carry on with you, you cannot say. 

“Shh,” he presses wet kisses against one of your thighs, lips trailing slowly up to where you want him most before he tilts his head and begins kissing up the other thigh as well, his pace torturously slow, “I always give you what you want, do I not?”

A loud, uncontained moan tears itself from your throat as Aemond presses a kiss against your folds, groaning into your heat as he tastes you. “Gods, you’re dripping,” he growls into your cunt, practically making out with your center as his hands come to rest on the tops of your thighs, holding you in place, “Did your babe not care for you at all?”

At this, Aegon pauses, whining against your breast as he lifts his head, thin tendrils of drool connecting his shining lips to your hardened nipple. The feeling of his mouth lifting off of you has you finally opening your eyes, only to be met with his wide, uncertain eyes.

“Mommy?” His voice is so small, so terribly worried at the thought that he may have disappointed you somehow. 

“Oh, sweet prince,” you whisper, voice catching in your throat as you gasp at the feel of Aemond sucking your aching pearl into his mouth, worrying the sensitive skin between his lips. Your brows furrow with concentration as your eyes meet Aegon’s, your hands gently cupping his cheeks, “Don’t worry yourself,” you have to pause again as a curse slips past your lips, “You’re my perfect little baby, you could never disappoint me.” 

You finally manage to pant out your reassurances, eyes nearly rolling to the back of your head at the feel of Aemond’s hot tongue licking into your center, his nose pressed firmly against your bud as he fucks you on the long muscle, groaning into your slick folds as he savors your sweet taste. You stare desperately into Aegon’s dark eyes, back arching as your husband feasts on your cunt with practiced ease, the slick, squelching sounds of him licking into you and suckling at your pearl making you mewl and blush. 

“You’re so beautiful, mommy,” Aegon murmurs softly, violet eyes staring at you with rapture, as if he’s trying to absorb the pleasure radiating from you, “So pretty.” He breathes finally and leans down to press a soft kiss against your lips, whimpering when he feels your tongue press into his mouth. 

The men hold you like that for a moment, letting you lie back on the bed as they attend to you – Aemond murmuring dirty praises into your cunt as he licks at you wildly, flicking shapes and patterns against your pearl that have your head spinning; Aegon swallowing your wanton moans in his own mouth as he moves his lips against yours. 

You whine against the older brother’s mouth when you feel your husband’s fingers gently prodding your center, gathering wetness on them before carefully pushing two into your heat. “Seven, you’re tight,” his breath is warm against your glossy folds, “Always so tight, feels so good, sweetling.” He purrs before quickly wrapping his lips around your bud once more, gently sucking at the tender flesh but combined with the pressure of his fingers, it’s enough to send you into a tailspin. 

You pull away from Aegon with a gasp, back arching off the bed as you whine Aemond’s name, blushing as you hear the loud wet sounds emanating from where his fingers fuck into your cunt. Faintly, you hear Aegon whimpering next to you, his soft cries almost in time with yours as he presses soft kisses along your neck and shoulder. 

“Mommy, my mommy,” he whispers in reverence, leaning across your chest to get to the breast he’s neglected thus far, kissing softly across your supple skin and teasing your nipple with the tip of his tongue before finally suckling it into his mouth, closing his eyes with a soft groan as he nurses, getting lost in the feel of you beneath him, your skin on his. 

Aegon’s lips around your nipple has you breaking, every muscle in your body seeming to tense up as your high overtakes you. A strange mixture of their names leaves your lips in a rough moan as you squeeze your eyes shut, fire exploding through you. 

“That’s it,” Aemond groans, crooking up his fingers within you as he feels your walls pulsing around them, pressing them into that rough patch he has memorized in your heat, the one he knows prolongs your peak, “Gods, that felt like a big one, sweetling.” 

Somehow, you find it within yourself to nod tiredly, chest heaving as you catch your breath, slinging an arm over Aegon’s back as he sighs happily against your chest. 

“Made you feel good, mommy,” he chuckles proudly around your breast, nipping and licking at your nipple as he tilts his head to meet your gaze, earning an annoyed huff from Aemond as he presses calming kisses against your thighs and hips. 

He’s so proud of himself that you can’t help yourself from smiling and giggling, your fingers carding through his hair. “Oh, yes you did,” you coo, “You made me feel so good, my precious boy.” 

Below you, Aemond bites at your thigh as a warning, making you jump. “Keep it up and you’ll only give him a bigger ego,” he rolls his eyes and presses wet kisses in a trail up your stomach, stopping only when he reaches Aegon, still lying across you. The bed dips as Aemond crawls back up to lie next to you, kissing his way up your neck and jaw before finally slotting his lips against your own.

A whimper escapes your lips as he does, one of your hands reaching up to run your fingers through his long hair, the pale strands threading between your digits like silk. He sighs into the kiss, one of his hands coming up to gently cup your neck, not choking but merely staking a claim. The action makes you mewl and he uses it to his advantage, quickly sliding his tongue across your bottom lip before entwining it with your own as he licks into your mouth. You can feel your face heat up as you taste yourself on his lips, squirming in his hold as Aegon continues licking and suckling at your hardened nipple, sending shivers of pleasure up your spine and quickly reigniting the flames in your belly. 

Aemond smirks as your moans change in pitch, the familiar high-pitched, whiny cadence causing him to let out a low, vibrating growl himself. 

“Please, Aemond,” you whisper against his lips, whimpering as he trails his kisses down your jaw and neck.

Your husband groans softly against your shoulder, a shudder rolling through him at the breathy way you say his name, his favorite sound. “You need not beg me, sweetling,” he sighs, gently gripping your hips and nodding for you to roll onto your side, “I’ve got you.”

Aegon whines as Aemond moves you, struggling to keep his soft lips latched around your peaked nipple, which earns him another eye roll from your husband. Quickly, you settle onto your side, both arms immediately wrapping around Aegon to hold him close. His pale hair tickles your lips as you press a sweet kiss to the crown of his head, softly giggling as he desperately suckles your nipple back into his mouth; your sweet boy could be at your breast for hours and it still wouldn’t be enough for him. 

The bed dips on either side of you as the two men bracket you between them, Aemond behind you and Aegon in front. Your husband presses kisses against the back of your shoulder as he slots himself against you, the warmth of his chest pressing against your back sends a shiver down your spine and makes your already stiff nipples harden to the point of aching. 

“Iksā sīr gevie, ñuha ābrazȳrys,” Aemond whispers against your shoulder as he trails a hand over your curves, humming appreciatively as he palms the swell of your arse, “Avy jorrāelan sīr olvie.” (You are so beautiful, my wife, I love you so much.)

You whimper at his words, your heart twisting happily in your chest as you recall their meaning from the lessons he had given you during your courtship. “Avy jorrāelan tolī, ñuha valzȳrys,” you manage to moan brokenly, “So much, Aemond!” You breathe, foggy brain unable to keep up with translations any longer. (I love you too, my husband.)

A gasp leaves you as Aemond presses himself against you tightly as you realize that he had managed to tug off his trousers at some point, his length slotting beautifully between your thighs as he ruts against you. 

“Gods!” Your slick folds part greedily as your husband rubs against your center, coating his cock in your juices, the tip rubbing deliciously against your pearl, “Oh, Aemond!”

“Shhh,” he breathes against your ear as one of his warm hands latches onto your thigh and pulls it up, giving him more room to guide his cock into your heat, “I’ve got you, sweetling, I have you.”

You nod, near delirious, practically sobbing as he finally guides himself into you, filling you perfectly. Your head lolls back, further into his embrace as he slowly presses into you, stretching you as he finally bottoms out, stones pressed firmly to your backside as a low, gravelly groan vibrates against your back. 

“You feel so good,” you moan breathily, your fingers scrambling through Aegon’s hair as you press his mouth against you, earning a whimper from the prince as he takes your breast further into his mouth, suckling at it greedily, spit leaking from the corners of his lips. 

“Feels perfect,” Aemond huffs, grunting as he begins moving his hips against yours, eye squeezing shut at the feel of your slick walls sucking him in as you quiver around his length, “You feel perfect, tight little cunt.” He mutters, more to himself than to you, hissing the words between clenched teeth.

You let yourself get lost for a moment, a light sheen of sweat blanketing your skin from the heat of the two men around you. You make no attempt to stop soft, satisfied moans from slipping out of your lips, breathing your pleasure against Aegon’s forehead as Aemond rocks into you, thrusting his hips in a well-practiced pattern as he fills you again and again. Your husband’s grip tightens on your thigh, making your eyes roll back deliciously as Aegon flicks his tongue against your nipple before greedily sucking it back into his mouth. 

A few moments later, you’re brought out of your reverie by a slick feeling at the front of your thigh, small whimpers and whines from the man at your breast finally managing to trickle their way into your consciousness. 

You finally open your eyes, letting out a soft moan as you take in the sight before you – Aegon suckling desperately at your sensitive breast, his dark eyes looking up at you pleadingly, already shimmering with unshed tears, as he ruts his hard length against your thigh, already leaking glossy trails onto your skin with every movement.

“Ohh,” you coo softly, pressing a kiss to his sweat-damp forehead as you wrap your hand around his length, feeling it immediately twitch in your grasp, “You need mommy to take care of you?” You ask breathily.

“P-Please,” Aegon whimpers brokenly, flicking his tongue over your nipple as he nods his head, “Hurts!” He whines, voice thick as tears leak from the corners of his eyes. 

You press another comforting kiss to his forehead, gasping in time with Aemond’s hard thrusts as you begin slowly teasing the prince’s hard length, cooing again as you feel him pulsing in your grasp. “What a good boy,” you whine, swirling your thumb against his leaking tip, “Getting so hard from hearing mommy get fucked, hm?”

You feel him shudder against you, a low groan sounding against your breast as his hips fuck up into your hold. He whines as you let go of his cock for a second, quickly running your fingers around where Aemond spears into you. Your husband grunts behind you at the sensation as you quickly gather some of your juices on your fingers, moaning brokenly as you flick them around your pearl for a second before returning your attention to Aegon. 

Your face heats as you suddenly get a dirty idea and you take a second to spread some of your juices across your unoccupied breast, chuckling breathily as Aegon immediately abandons the one he’s currently suckling on, a loud moan snaking past his lips when you wrap your slick fingers around his cock once again, easing his thrusts into your fists. 

“Greedy babe,” Aemond grunts from over your shoulder, watching as Aegon frantically licks around your breast, humming excitedly at your sweet taste before latching onto your nipple once more, “Suckling at any part of my sweet wife he can reach.”

A fire lights in your belly at Aemond’s words as you’re surprised he’s addressing Aegon at all, his teasing lilt only adding to the heat within you. The prince whines within your grasp, his face flushing to a deeper shade of pink than it already is and his violet eyes shoot daggers in his brother’s general direction, not caring that he can’t see them. 

Suddenly, Aemond lets go of your thigh, leaving you to sling it over one of Aegon’s pale hips as he continues thrusting his cock into you, deep and slow. His hand instead settles on one breast and he lovingly palms at it, humming with satisfaction at its weighty feel in his hand. 

A loud whine leaves you as his fingers pinch around your overly-sensitive bud, tweaking and tugging at the swollen skin. Your back arches, loud whimpers tumbling past your lips as his touch borders on pain. Aegon growls at your sounds of discomfort, letting your nipple fall from his lips as he sits up just enough to throw him a malicious glare over your shoulder.

“Ngh!” Your little prince grunts, smacking Aemond’s hand away from you before wrapping an arm around your waist protectively and pressing soft kisses to your abused breast, “Mommy?” He questions softly, teary eyes searching yours, desperately wanting to make sure you’re alright. 

“Shh, shh,” you soothe sweetly, carding your fingers through his hair as he lays his head on your pillow once more, “Mommy’s okay, my sweet, thank you.” Your words are breathy, feeling halfway forced out of you as Aemond’s thrusts speed up, your mind growing fuzzy as the head of his cock moves against the sensitive spot within you perfectly, making you clench around him. Aegon continues thrusting into your grasp, his hands frantically grabbing onto any parts of you he can reach. 

“Pathetic,” Aemond huffs at his brother, biting into the sensitive skin of your neck, “So whiny, fuck, so whiny under your muña’s touch you can’t even speak.” (Mother’s)

Aegon whines again, a high, pitiful sound against your beast as he latches onto you once more, low groans ripping through him as the leaking head of his cock rubs against your soft thigh. 

“Hush,” you admonish, one arm hugging possessively around the prince, “Mommy’s taking good care of her sweet little boy, isn’t she?” 

“Y-Yes,” Aegon breathes brokenly around a soft moan, his cock twitching desperately in your hand, “Yes, yes, yes!” He chants around your breast, soft little words in time with each stroke of your hand. 

You can see him start to lose himself — watching as his eyes grow ever more glossy, tears welling up in the corners while throaty sobs and sighs warm your breast, his length seeming to get somehow thicker in your grasp as the head of his cock positively weeps against you. 

“What a good boy,” you sigh encouragingly, smiling proudly, glowing with the knowledge that you can reduce him to such a state, “Are you close, my sweet?” 

He nods desperately, soft grunts accompanying the thrusts of his hips up into your grasp. You keep your pace steady, your own head swimming as your release builds within you. 

After another few seconds, Aegon begins shaking helplessly in your grasp, his chest heaving as sobs are wrenched from his throat. “That’s it,” you murmur softly, feeling your cunt clench around Aemond’s length at the sight of the prince coming undone before you, making the other man groan loudly behind you, “Come on, I know you’re so close, show mommy how good she makes you feel, my love.” 

As always, your soft approval is what unravels him. You moan loudly, watching him fall apart in your arms, relishing the soft moans and sighs of your name as they fall from his pouty lips, the way his hips stutter in your hold. You gasp softly at the feel of his cock twitching between the two of you, his spend coating his belly and chest in pearlescent streaks.

Before he’s even had the chance to recover, your sweet boy finds it within himself to bring one hand down, greedily seeking out your bud. He sighs happily when you cry out his name, his fingers circling your aching pearl perfectly, just in the way you’d taught him, his chest still heaving with his own release. 

“Oh, Gods!” You gasp, your own hips rutting back and forth between the two men, “So c-close, fuck!” You whine, the fire in your belly threatening to consume you. 

“That’s a good girl,” Aemond grunts, hips thrusting into you at a maddening pace, “Do you want me to breed a baby into your wet little cunt, sweetling?”

You and Aegon whine at the same instant, yours in pleasure and his in annoyance. Your walls clench desperately at your husband's thick length, making him chuckle breathlessly behind you. 

“Find your pleasure, sweet girl,” he groans, his thrusts somehow perfectly timed to the swirls of Aegon’s fingers against your bud, “Peak and I’ll put a little babe in your belly, my love.” 

Aemond’s promise, Aegon’s soft whine, and the feel of their touches mingling on your slick heat finally pushes you over the edge once more. Your cunt pulses around Aemond as you slip over the edge, your pearl buzzing and twitching under Aegon’s fingers as flames of pleasure lick up your spine, sparks exploding behind your eyelids as you cry out against Aegon’s neck. 

Your release claws Aemond’s out of him as well, the feeling of his seed emptying into you spurring your peak on further. You whimper, mouthing at the pale skin of your prince’s throat as you feel warmth bloom within you, your husband’s harsh strokes finally slowing to a stop. 

The three of you lay silent for a while, the only sounds in your chambers being soft pants and sighs. Finally, Aemond carefully pulls his length from you, soothing you gently when you whine. 

“Seven,” he groans softly, watching his seed slip slowly from your spent center, “Perhaps this time we should let it take.” He muses as he gets up from the bed, retrieving a fresh cloth from your dressing table and quickly cleaning your center and thighs.

“But,” Aegon whimpers softly, drawing your attention back to him as he looks at you with wide, worried eyes, “What…what about me?” The meekness in his voice makes your heart ache as you hurriedly hush him, wiping tears from the corners of his eyes with your thumbs. 

“You don’t worry about a thing, my little love,” you reassure him, pulling him into your arms and rocking him slowly against you, “No matter what the future holds, you will always be my precious little prince. I swear it.” You promise, pressing soft kisses to each of his cheeks, one of your hands tickling at his side until he squirms and giggles against you, burying his head in your neck with a tired sigh.

Aemond huffs again, setting his eyepatch on the table by your bed before he assumes his spot next to you once more, slinging an arm over your waist as he makes himself comfortable. 

On your other side, Aegon shuffles down the bed once more, making you giggle softly as he presses feather light kisses to your breast, sighing happily at the mere feel of your supple skin against his lips as he cozies himself against you. 

“Maybe we should hold off on the moon tea this time,” Aemond ponders, mumbling against your shoulder as his fingers trace soothing patterns into the soft skin of your hip, “Surely an actual babe could be no more difficult than the one we already seem to have.” 

Aegon whines, Aemond chuckles, and you tiredly groan.

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[myvoiddreams]

Fragments of Starlight

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: With the impending war, Y/N is captured by Hybern's general. As they struggle to protect those they care about, they reflect on their unrequited feelings for Azriel and their insecurities within the Night Court.

Word Count: 4,585

Warnings: ANGST, violence, torture, dark themes

A/N: This is my first time ever writing anything like this. I am a true sucker for angst. This is meant to go along with some of the events of ACOWAR, but of course, it’s different. Please don’t come at me for not following it’s exact story line. ALSO, I know that Azriel or Feyre would NEVER, but it’s just for the heartache okay!!

Part 2, Part 3

------

Now

All of it, it was all going to shit. I don’t know how my ears weren’t bleeding at the sheer amount of noise coming from the chaos around me. So much screaming, but was it Hybern’s forces, or our own? Everything was ringing, my head throbbing along with it. It was almost as if my breaths were not reaching my lungs. I was on the ground, all fours underneath me as I tried and tried to get myself to my feet. Everything was sore, it was like my muscles were not working. I stretched for the source of the aching on my temple and what I found was the warm, wet consistency of fresh blood.

My family, where is my family? Panic drenched me like a bucket of ice water.

With a groan, I grabbed my sword that lay beside me and turned to face the sky, now sitting at least. The sky, it was so blue. It almost felt like a disgusting joke to see something so beautiful, as dead bodies lay at my feet. Hybern’s forces were surrounding me, there was no escaping this.

I grit my teeth as I stand, my blade in hand. Dizziness rolls off me in waves, so much so that nausea is found coursing through my veins. I don’t get very far up before I’m slammed back down to the earth. My face hits the dirt as all the air leaves my lungs, leaving nothing but the taste of the earth and blood in my mouth. There is someone standing on my back, applying enough pressure I’m sure I’ll have a broken rib or two.

“Don’t go too far, sweetheart. We are just getting started with you.” A cry of pain leaves my lips as one of Hybern’s generals continues to crush my ribcage. The nausea and ringing in my head is too much. Then, with another blow to my head, everything is dark.

---

Before

“Oh, come on now sweet cheeks! You can do better than that. Az and I trained you myself!” Cassian’s voice was oh so annoying as he pinned me to my back. Sweat was gleaming across both of us as we spent the morning training. I was panting as my mind continued to reel.

Life had gotten tense with the Inner Circle recently. Not only was Prythian on the cusp of war with Hybern, but now we had to juggle the two newly made Fae that were the Archeron sisters.

I honestly felt bad for them. They did not ask for this life. I can only image what it would be like to go through life having your humanity ripped from you. Now knowing that you are going to be around for centuries instead of decades. And I felt bad for Feyre, who never wanted to see her sister’s dragged into this.

Usually, Azriel would be here with Cassian and me. Usually. It seemed as though Azriel had been getting far in over his head with the middle Archeron sister as of late. I would be lying if I said it didn’t bother me. But, I would never admit that fact out loud. Elain was half here and half not. Whenever she did speak, she’d just spew some crap that didn’t make any sense. But, that didn’t stop Azriel from spending any time he was not preparing for the war, with her.

Azriel. My heart seized at just the mention of his name. I had known the Shadowsinger for centuries. I stood by his side as he faced his own inner turmoil about Rhys being taken from us right under our feet. I stood by him even before that as I watched Windhaven and Devlon try to take was little he had away from him. Really, I had stood by everyone in this Inner Circle. But Azriel, Az was different. This too I would never admit out loud.

It took me holding him one night, after he had dreamt of his hands being lit aflame again, that it snapped. In all his vulnerability, it just, snapped. Az and I had shared a connection, a friendship, and I had loved him far long before the mating bond clicked in place. It only felt right that it was him. But, it hasn’t snapped for him.

It hurt, every single day, it hurt. And to watch him try so hard to make whatever it was happen with Elain, who was mated to someone else, made me feel worthless. This too, was not his fault. How was he supposed to know when I refused to breathe a word of it. Honestly, it might be a good thing, the distance. It hurts, but Azriel deserves happiness. I don’t know if I’m the one who can give him that.

“Damnit Cass!” I grunted as I fought back from his restraint.

“You are letting yourself get sloppy, Y/N. No room for that on the battlefield.” His face was smug. I felt some embarrassment creep up my neck and find its way on my cheeks.

“I know, I know.” I huffed. “Just let me up already.” I gave up on fighting back. Recently I found myself lacking the energy I used to have. I used to be full, driven, but I have found myself distant lately.

“Look, are you sure you’re okay, Y/N? You have not had your head in the game recently.” He stood and held a hand out to me. Cassian only wanted to check on me, it was nice really. I just wasn’t used to it. I had been the one the members of this court had always leaned their heads on. There just seemed to be no room for the others to do the same for me. So, I never asked them to. I wasn’t going to start now.

“I’m fine Cass, just tired.” I retorted.

“Aren’t we all sweet cheeks.” He said as he patted my back.

---

Now

Fire is crackling somewhere near me, but I can’t feel its warmth. I feel myself chained up. My arms were far above my head, hanging me from a support post. My feet had been stripped of their shoes, and now chains wrapped around my ankles. My body hurt, breathing hurt, and my head hurt. I was sure that this hellhole was only going to make it worse.

“Ah, there she is. Glad to see you actual awoke, we were starting to get worried.” Spoke the same general who broke my ribs.

I kept my mouth shut, only glaring at the direction of the voice. My vision was still blurry, and where I hope there was only one of him, I saw three.

The entrance flap of the tent open and closed to reveal another male. This one, I recognized. The King of Hybern himself.

“If it isn’t Y/N of the Night Court. I have to say, my men did a fine job bringing you in here for me. Wouldn’t you say so?” His voice was gruff. “Now that you’re here, we some questions we need answered, and I suggest you do answer them, dear. I’m sure you don’t want to find out what will happen if you don’t cooperate.”

I lazily lifted my head toward the King and sneered. “Try me.” I bit back, my voice laced with venom.

“Oh, I was afraid you’d say something of those sorts.” The king waved in another male, he was in head to toe in black. Something similar to what I’d see our very own Shadowsinger wear. Only this male was no where near the build of Az, but damn, did he look pissed.

The male pulled out a small dagger that was sheathed on their waist and made his way closer to me. I couldn’t help but let a little laugh escape my lips, “Size does matter you know,” I quipped. I know this man was here to interrogate me, but I could not let these people know how truly vulnerable I felt.

“Oh? I beg to differ.” The male stated as he plunged the dagger into the flesh of my calf.

---

Before 

Rhys wanted to have a family dinner tonight. It would be the first one in quite a long time. With everything going on, who was to blame anyone? I couldn’t say I was looking forward to it though. I used to love the time I could spend with my family, but now, it wasn’t the same. Not when my family was no longer the same. 

Rhys had Feyre, who don’t get me wrong, I love, and I love to see Rhys have the mate he has always deserved. But, with the additions of the Acheron sisters came with something strained. Cass hasn’t said anything, but I see the way he looks at Nesta. Nesta, who wants absolutely nothing to do with him, or any of us for that matter. Mor and Amren hadn’t been around as of late. Both were too busy preparing for this inevitable war. Mor with being an emissary and Amren with working out some logistics of the Cauldron. 

And Az. Azriel was no longer seeking me out. No longer spending time in the training ring or the library with me. Instead, he was with Elain. 

And then, there was me. Before this family all I was, was alone. Finding this family had saved me in more aspects than one, but I can feel it shifting under my feet, about to give way and take me with the edge of it. 

This though, is something I would never speak about. There is enough going on as it is. No one needs to be burdened about me, my unreciprocated feelings for the Shadowsinger, or my silly feelings of insecurity. I’m a friend to the court, a warrior, sometimes an advisor, but, I am nothing compared to the rest of them. I simply do not hold enough importance, and that is something I must live with. Something I am terrified they will realize as well. 

I was the last to make it to the table. Cauldron, even Elain is here. And next to Elain was Az. Hazel eyed, messy haired, Az. We caught each other’s eyes. I couldn’t help but let a smile creep up onto my face in greeting, and he smiled back.

I took my seat next to Cass and Amren and looked at the table around me. Even though war was around the corner, it felt good to gather as if nothing was wrong. Conservation started buzzing, everyone started eating, and I drifted off to a place that wouldn’t hurt me.

—- 

Now

Sweat is dripping off me in beads. My body is littered with cuts and bruises. But, I didn’t say a word. Not a single word about the size of our armies, not a word about what Rhys and the others had planned, not a word about our allies. Not a word. And I was paying for it.

Gods. They had left me here, giving me a break from the beatings and the torture. Whatever the used must have been laced with faebane because I have never felt this weak. This out of control of myself. I wasn’t healing, and I was still losing blood. At this rate, it wasn’t looking good. I was still hanging from my arms, I’m sure at this point I had a shoulder out of it’s socket. A rustling began again at the entrance of the tent.

“Back for more?” I croaked. My throat was completely dry from the screaming. But, when I got my eyes open enough to see what the cause of the noise was, my heart stopped dead in it’s tracks.

Elain.

---

Before

I retreated from dinner early. As pitiful as it sounds, I couldn’t be around it. I couldn’t stand to see Azriel with her any longer. Not when I knew he was the one who was slowly healing her and ruining me.

Knocking at my bedroom door pulled me from my thoughts and I was looking into a book, not really reading it. “Come in,” I shouted.

The site of Azriel caught me off guard. Once upon a time, it was normal for him to seek me out from my room. Now, it simply wasn’t. I couldn’t help but tense.

“Oh! Az!” I put my book down and stood. “How are you doing?” I smiled up at him.

“You would know if you hadn’t left dinner so early.” He looked down at me, frowning and crossing his arms. It was rare that Az was upset with me.

“Look, I’m sorry, I’m tired after training today.” I gave him a sad smile, not wanting him to push the issue further. “But please, tell me what I missed.”

This somehow made his shadows start to swirl around him and he huffed. “I was telling everyone how much progress Elain had made. She’s having actual conversations now.” He smiled at it, proud.

I tried not to show any hurt on my face. I have no right for this to hurt me. He was helping someone, and I had to be pitiful enough that I was jealous.

“That’s amazing Az, you’ve helped her a lot.” I let another smile grace my face. Before I knew what I was saying it was falling out of my lips, “But, you do realize that she is mated, right?”

Azriel’s demeanor shifted. His shadows became agitated, “Elain is a friend. She is going through a lot, and she needs support.” He sighed, “Plus, I think that cauldron could be wrong.” That sentence alone was enough to rip whatever was left in me to shreds. Why couldn’t he see me?

I had to take a deep breath to keep the silver lining in my eyes in place. “Az, when in your life have you ever seen the cauldron be wrong? Why would it start being wrong now?”

“Look, maybe you’ll understand one day, but it’s wrong about her and Lucien.” He crossed his arms now.

“It sounds like you want to it be wrong. Whether it is, or not.”

Azriel was growing frustrated. His eyebrow ticked and he huffed, “Can you blame me for wanting something more?”

“She is mated Azriel. Off limits.” I tried to stress him. “I don’t want to see you hurt if it doesn’t turn out the way you want.” I sighed. “I wouldn’t want my mate ripped away from me, I’m sure Lucien doesn’t either.” He doesn’t even realize that I’m talking about him. Not a single clue.

“Ripped away? Look Y/N, just because you’re alone, does not mean I have to be. Why are you making this about you?” He nearly snarled at me. Snarled. “I have finally found another purpose other than this war. I have found something, someone, to spend my time with and enjoy.”

His words hit me like an arrow to the chest. Alone. Maybe they all did see me, and they just didn’t care. Why couldn’t I be enough for him? Why hadn’t in all the time and cherished memories we have together be enough. We had held each other in hardship. We had trained together. We had grown together. We had spent countless Starfalls together. We had shared so many laughs and touches. Why wasn’t what we had enough for him?

The weight of Azriel’s words hung in the air, heavy silence settling between us. My heart ached with the sting of his remark, and I fought to keep any of my remaining composure.

I deflated, “Az,” I tried to sigh as he cut me off again.

“Well, maybe if you weren’t so insecure, you’d see that I’m just trying to help someone who’s been through a lot. You’re jealous and it’s clouding your judgment.” He stared at me, and I had to look away. I didn’t realize it but I began to shake. I couldn’t tell if it was from rage, or from the way my heart cracked as he spoke.

“I think you should go Az.” My voice began to break, and I could tell that my walls were going to come down. Not once had I ever asked him to leave.

His own eyes softened, and he reached for me, “Wait.”

He tried to continue but I cut him off, “Leave, Azriel.” I turned to face away from him. I gathered my arms together. I couldn’t let him see the tears that were rolling down my face, I wouldn’t.

He pulled his arm back to himself and hesitated, seeing the pain he was causing me. Without another word, he turned and left, the door closing behind with a heavy finality.

---

Now

Elain. What the fuck was she doing here?

Seeing her tore me from my stupor. She acted as if she was in a trance, half there. I was really panicking now. I could take this torture and pain, Elain, I don’t think she would last. I could hardly pull at my restraints at this point.

“Elain! Elain!” I screamed at her, trying to get her attention. One of the males that was hauling her in, left her side and strolled to mine. Next thing I knew I was tasting my own blood in my mouth as his fist met with my face. As the blood welled up in my mouth, I felt rage hit me. I spat at him. His face now coated with the bloody saliva that he caused me.

He wiped his hand over his face, ridding it of its bloody covering. I snarled at him as he drew a blade. Good. This way the focus would stay on me and not Elain. He brought the blade to my face, slicing a thin mark down my cheek. “If you wanted more, you could’ve just asked.” He trailed the blade down my neck, and now to my collar bone, all the while slicing lightly as he went. He brought his lips to my ear and his hand grabbed my face, “I have so much more than just blades and fists in store for you, girl.”

It was almost too hard to stomach. I didn’t want to know what he was alluding to. Elain, do this for Elain. I told myself. I kept silent and he pushed me away, returning to the other male who was already putting Elain into restraints.

Why is she here? Why is she not fighting back?

As they finished with her restraints, Hybern himself walked back into the tent.

“Cauldron be damned, if it’s not also Feyre’s cauldron made sister.” Hybern chuffed, “We are truly going to have such a fun time together.” He chuckled as he looked between Elain and I.

He nodded at his men and they both reach for their knives. One for me. One for Elain.

“Wait!” I blurted as I saw the man move toward Elaine, “Please, leave her unharmed.”

“Hmm,” hummed Hybern, “Now, tell me pretty thing, why would I do that?”

“She’s a Seer. Please, you must leave her unharmed or she will be no use to anyone. She will not come out of any trance if she is harmed.” I didn’t know if what I was blabbing was true. I only knew that I needed to protect Elain, for she could not protect herself.

Hybern nodded again at the male who was at Elain’s side. The male sheathed his blade and I let out a silent sigh.

“You on the other hand,” Hybern turned his attention back on me, “I have some questions about pretty Elain.” A wicked smile reached the lips of the male in front of me, as he lifted his blade threatening. “You, dear Y/N, best answer them.”

The male reached for my shirt and tore it in half. Now leaving my chest and abdomen exposed to the air, only a warrior’s wrap covering my breasts. I gasped at the bite of the air reaching my skin. My abdomen was littered with black and blue bruising from the beatings. The faebane in my system slowing any kind of healing.

I turned my face to a stone grimace. I could do this. I told myself. If nobody comes for you, then surely someone will come for Elain.

That truth hurt almost as much as the torture that I was being put through.

---

Before

It had been about a week since I’d seen Azriel. The bond that used to hum in my chest felt vacant. Rhysand had sent me and Cassian to one of the Illyrian war bands that were positioned in case of an attack.

It was a single flaming arrow that was sent into a tent that set everything into utter chaos. Cassian was in the middle of a meeting with some of the other commanders, and I was in the training ring.

Hybern’s forces hit us as if we were nothing but an anthill in their way.

I don’t know where Cassian was as I fought and fought, until I was brought down.

---

Now

I was hardly holding on. I had no energy to cry out anymore. No energy to even lift my own head up. My abdomen and back was near ribbons after that male drove his blade into me again and again.

Elain had seemed to snap in and out of it. When she was somewhat coherent, she would only cry. I felt bad for her, but I had done what I could do protect her. There wasn’t a single scratch on her.

At thinking of Elain my mind drifted to Azriel. I wonder if he’s looking for me, if not, her.

The inner circle had to know that something was wrong at this point. I only hope that Cassian was also okay after we were ambushed. I’m sure if he wasn’t, he’d be right next to me also receiving the beatings I was.

Blood dripped down my back, creating a small pool under me. I truly didn’t know how much longer I would last. I had never felt weaker in my life.

I should’ve told him that night. Anguish was suffocating me. I found myself retracing everything I did as of late. The way I stole myself away from my family because I was being nothing but pitiful. The way they started to treat me differently. The way one no one would come to me anymore, and I would not go to them. No wonder they have left you here. You are nothing to them. My mind bit at me.

What truly bothered me was the downfall of mine as Azriel’s friendship. He was the one person I could always truly count on. If I had fallen in training, if I had drank too much, if some stupid male had broke my heart, it was always Azriel that had caught me, and me him. It’s why I fell in love with him long before the bond snapped its place into my heart. And now I was going to die without him ever knowing. I was simply going to fade away as my blood pooled underneath me.

It's better this way. I told myself. Elain is unharmed, and I will fade before anyone knows of this bond. The war will be won and Az will be able to move on with someone he finds joy in.

I couldn’t help but let tears run down my face. I wanted to scream, to find some way out, but with the faebane running through me, I was simply too weak.

---

I woke to the sound of rustling at the entrance of the tent. The rustling led to Elain, and I could hear her restraints being messed with. I nearly couldn’t pry my eyes open at the sound. Maybe they would finally take me from my misery. I silently hoped. That’s when I heard a quiet gasp. I looked up to see.. Feyre? And behind her, the one messing with Elain’s chains, Azriel.

My heart lurched to a stop. They had come to help, we were going to get out.

“Azriel..” Feyre quietly said as he brought Elain into his arms.

“What.” He nearly hissed at her. That’s when he looked up and truly saw me.

“Az.. Feyre..” I choked on my words. Help was here. I was going to get out of here. To make it. Finally something positive bloomed in my chest in place of where that hole had found itself.

Azriel set Elain back down and rushed to my side. He put a hand to my cheek, “Y/N, we couldn’t find you anywhere. Cass, he said you were missing after the battle.” His touch sent shivers down my beaten spine.

My restraints still bore heavily into my wrists where I was strung up. Then, there was rustling and yelling coming from outside of the tent.

“Help me down, please.” My voice was raw and pleading.

The yelling was getting closer and closer.

“Az, we have to leave, now.” Feyre said, trying to scoop Elain into her arms.

Azriel’s hand left my cheek, and panic flared into his eyes as he took in my state.

Hybern’s soldiers were coming, realizing something was wrong. Azriel looked between Elain and I, backing up from where I was strung up. He was backing away from me. Why was he backing away from me?

My own panic started to settle deep inside of me, long squashing any hope that had found it’s place.

“Azriel… please,” I coughed quietly. Dread was setting deeply inside of me. They didn’t plan on saving two. They came here for Elain, not me.

A sob found it’s way onto my lips as he picked Elain from Feyre’s arms. Feyre herself looking torn, her eyes expressing so much anguish.

“We will come back Y/N. I promise.” Azriel’s words were yet another punch to the gut.

I couldn’t help but let the sobs I had been holding onto for so long bubble out of me.

“Please don’t leave me here.” I cried, no longer caring for the quietness. They both stiffened at the sound of my voice. “Please,” I was gasping for air as this point, “If you’re not going to take me, then at least put me down.”

Their eyes widened at my statement, but I couldn’t hold for much longer. I needed this pain to end. This suffering to be over with.

“We will be back. I will come straight back.” Azriel hushly stated. His eyes, those beautiful hazel eyes were boring into me. They were trying to convince me he was telling the truth, but I knew better. I knew that they were only getting into the camp once successfully.

They chose Elain. They were going to leave me behind.

“Just kill me, please kill me…” I sobbed, “Please if you are going to leave me behind, then just kill me.”

Feyre was crying now, and Azriel. I knew, that even though he was choosing Elain, Elain to save, and Elain to love, he still wouldn’t harm me.

“I’m so sorry Y/N.” Feyre bubbled out of her crying lips as she quickly left the tent under her cloak.

Azriel and I made eye contact again through my sobbing, through the tears that were leaving my eyes in force. “I will be right back. I will come back for you.” And then, he was gone. With Elain in his arms.

I broke, truly broke. No weapon could hurt me as much as the sight of who I loved most, my mate, leaving me here, strung up and bleeding out.

[mrs-weasley-reid]

SAY DON'T GO

Spencer Reid x bau!reader

Sypnosis: Nothing hurts more than the fear of losing you. Word Count: 1600+ WARNING: Angst. mentions of death, blood, gunshot A/N: I wrote this in a haste, literally ten minutes ago, while listening to Say Don't Go (Taylor's Version) by mother Taylor Swift. It's definitely not perfect, but I was definitely in the zone when I wrote it, lol.

A gunshot.

Everything fades into a muffle. You blink once, twice, thrice... A wince connects your brows. As if you're figuring out if the oozing feeling on your abdomen should be causing you pain or ease.

Suddenly, Spencer's running to you. You think he's screaming. You hear nothing. There's only ringing in your ears. A thin, high-pitched ring that pierces through your brain.

You drop on the precinct's carpet floor, caressing your stomach like it's enough to stop yourself from bleeding out. You look at Spencer, "When'd you get here?" You ask, disoriented. You instantly pay attention to his watery eyes. "What's wrong? Why are you crying?" You reach to cup his cheek. You are shocked when you see your hand covered in red, smearing the liquid on his skin. Your eyes widen, "Oh, my god?! You're hurt! Spence—" You try to sit up, but a wave of stinging pain makes you fall back in his arms.

"WHERE'S THE MEDIC?!" Spencer's voice echoes in the entire place. He turns to you, unsure if he is even allowed to have you in his arms. He doesn't dwell on it as he holds your hand on his cheek, squeezing it. "Hey, hey! Breathe for me, yeah? Stay with me." He swallows a sob, placing pressure on your abdomen. "Please, stay with me..."

"I'm hurt?" Stupor begins to steal you out of consciousness. You blink. A bright light blinds your vision.

Once you open your eyes, you're back in Spencer's apartment. He's standing across the room while your feet are rooted at the door. He doesn't look at you. No. He's afraid to look at you.

His hands are buried in his pockets. He's wearing a nice suit. Fitted just for him. His tie is a dark shade of purple. You gave him that tie for his birthday last year. It's loose. His hair is a mess. And his face... it's wet.

He's crying.

You're crying.

"I think you should go," Spencer takes a gulp as he stares at the floor. Like it'd kill him if he looked at you.

You inhale deeply, sniffing as you wipe a tear with the back of your hand, "We don't have to do this, Spence. You don't have to do this."

"Yes, we do!" For the first time in what feels like forever, he finally lifts his gaze at you. His hazel eyes are rimmed with red heat, overflowing with tears. He's hurt. He's hurt, too.

"Is it really that horrible to love me?" You sob. You can hear your heart slowly shatter. Pins and needles knock on your chest. You wonder if you're still breathing right. "Am I that ugly—"

"You know that's not true, sweetheart." You hate that the nickname gives you butterflies. How his words, awful and insensitive, still made you attentively listen. How his voice still makes you want to hear more. "You're the most beautiful person I've ever met."

"Then why?!" You felt like a child throwing a tantrum. "Why are you putting a distance between us?" You bite your lower lip to stop it from quivering. "Why is it such a crime to be together?"

Spencer shifts his gaze to somewhere else. He runs a hand through his hair. You notice the coffee stain at the cuff of his sleeve. Then, you see the smudge of red lipstick past the line of his lips. Your red lipstick. He bought that lipstick a few months ago. No reason. Just for the fun of it.

Is it bad that you think he still looks handsome under the sun's setting light? Even when his hair is arrayed in different directions? Even when his face is drenched with his own tears?

He breathes deeply, audibly, "We're in the same line of work. You know better than to think we're going to work. News flash, sweetheart. It won't. It's not worth it." He can't look at you. He's ashamed to look at you.

"Not... worth it?" You blink. You stare at him with disgust, "So— So what? We're nothing, but we fuck? We're nothing, but we flirt? We're nothing, but you love me? Please, explain it to me because I'm having a difficult time understanding the stupid shit of a point you're making."

Spencer gulps for the nth time, "You love me."

"What?" You regret wanting to meet his eyes because now that he's staring at yours with such unfamiliarity, it hurts.

"You love me. You said you love me. I never said anything."

You're definitely not breathing right.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Inhale.

Exhale.

"Inhale, exhale... Yeah, that's right, sweetheart. Just follow me." Spencer holds your hand tight as the paramedics do their best to stop you from bleeding out. His voice sounds heartbreaking.

His voice...

You blink. Your hearing's back. You do as he says, inhaling and exhaling as he does. You feel lightheaded, like you're floating on a cloud.

Spencer keeps his and your hands intertwined. He follows while the paramedics roll you into the ambulance. "Hang in there, sweetheart. Please, hang in there." His face is a mess. He doesn't stop crying, swallowing his sobs.

You smile into the oxygen mask, blinking. You're on the verge of dying, and yet you find humor in knowing Spencer's tells. "You swallow when you're scared... don't be scared, Spence." You say it in broken words and in an almost soundless voice.

"I'm not," He denies, wiping his tears aggressively. He is. He's scared to the bone.

"The bullet shattered to her chest," The paramedic who inspects your chest claims, looking at her partner with worry.

"W-what?" Spencer stutters, stealing a glimpse down your neck. "No, no, sweetheart. Stay with me. Stay with me." He sees the way you flutter your eyes, fighting to stay conscious, listening to his pleas. And how you suddenly stopped, never opening your eyes back up. "Don't— Don't close your eyes! Sweetheart, please don't go. Please, don't—" He looks up at the sound of your vitals plummeting. He quickly looks back at your face, saying your name like it's a prayer.

The machine flatlines, and the paramedic pushes Spencer aside to perform resuscitation. "Sir, let us do our job." One of them says, two inches deep as she manually restarts your heart.

Spencer shoves himself in the corner of the ambulance. He wraps his arms around him. "Please, don't go..." His voice cracks and transitions into writhing sobs as he watches your body go limp with each surge of electricity that shocks your skin.

Then he thinks of that night.

He thinks of the image of you standing by the door. You don't want to go. He doesn't want you to go.

But you have to... because if you don't, he'll run to you and never let you go. So, he tells you to leave. You protest.

So stubborn. He cries in his head, wishing that you hadn't made things difficult for being so beautiful even when you're crying.

"You love me. You said you love me. I never said anything." His body shakes on the spot. His mouth goes dry. His chest compresses. He lies through his teeth.

Spencer saw the way your face turned into a ghost. He's done it.

He broke you.

He hurt you.

No turning back. No way of fixing it.

"Ah..." You say softly, nodding. "Checks out." You add without a sign of sarcasm. You stare into the air for a minute. You let the silence hover and hunt Spencer for a moment. You let him realize the pain, the stupidity of it all. "I think I should leave..." Your eyes say otherwise.

Please say, "Don't go." Tell me not to leave. Run to me... please.

You wonder if he knows it or chooses to ignore the way you held your tears. If he caught on all your tells. Because you knew he wasn't true. You knew he knew that you could read him like the back of your hand.

"Yeah," Spencer straightens his back, "I think you should."

You purse your lips into a thin line and nod, "Okay," You turn around. You take three seconds to grab the knob, but when the time has run out, you are out in a heartbeat.

"Spencer."

JJ appears in Spencer's vision. "Spencer, are you okay?" Her face was covered with worry as she placed two hands on his shoulders. She exchanges looks with Derek and Aaron.

They were there when it all went down. When the unsub came out of nowhere and started shooting. You were the first shot.

Spencer cranes his neck around. He's in the waiting room. He doesn't remember when or how he got there. All he remembers is the defibrillator jolting your unresponsive body more than once. His eyes widen. He says your name in haste as he stands up, "Where is she? Where— Where..."

Derek holds him back, "She's in surgery, Reid. Did you forget?" He asks, gently pushing Spencer back onto his seat.

"She was dead for three minutes... They couldn't find a pulse for three minutes." Spencer announces at a loss. He looks down at his hand, at the cheap friendship bracelet around his wrist. The one you made in your first year with the team as a last-minute birthday gift. He breaks into a sob, covering his eyes as if to push them back inside his tear ducts.

"So?" Derek catches Spencer's hands off his face, "She's been in surgery for thirty minutes. Her heart started beating again, and it had been for thirty minutes. She's fighting, man. At least fight with her before you wallow like a ninny."

"Morgan," Aaron warns but silently agrees.

You're fighting for your life, so they should, too.

You're not ready to go.

You don't want to go.

Spencer nods and wipes his face. He sniffs and takes a deep breath. He glances at the door to the operating room like he has x-ray vision, "Don't go."

reid masterlist | masterlist

[exhaslo]

Day 19- Miguel x Reader (Sex Pollen)

       

*Requested by several readers ;) *

Another day, another mission. You had joined Miguel and Jessica on an anomaly hunt in a new dimension. All sounded simple at first, Jessica was in charge of finding the Spiderman or woman of that world and attempting to recruit them; you were going to hunt the anomaly; and Miguel was going to survey the new world. That was the original plan, but once the three of you actually arrived at said world, everything changed.

        Staring at the vast jungle before you, you rubbed your eyes to make sure it was true. There were no buildings in sight. They had already recruited some odd animal Spiders, was this going to be another one. Miguel was getting a diagnosis done by Lyla. In the meantime, you and Jessica observed your surroundings.

"Wow, I don't think I'll be able to leaf this alone for a while," You hummed, poking a large leaf.

"I'll pretend you didn't make such a horrible pun." Jessica crossed her arms as she looked up at the fifty foot trees, "Yeah, I'm calling this one off. Let me know how it goes," With a wave, Jessica returned to the Spider Society.

"Shocking," Miguel hissed, "Humanity went extinct in this world. So let's grab our anomaly before he messes with nature."

"Coolio. I'm sure the wildlife will think of us as giant Spiders." You chuckled.

        Miguel did not find it amusing as he led the way. You complained to him, wanting Miguel to cheer up. The man was the pinnacle of stressed out. You could feel his tension whenever you entered a room with him. Hell, his muscles showed it too. Speaking of muscles, you were staring at his for far too long now. Looking away, you huffed as you now stared at his ass. How was there a Spiderman this fucking fine? You couldn't help but want the man! 

"There," Miguel pointed towards the anomaly.

        You stood behind Miguel, staring at a very confused Shocker. Miguel was whispering a plan to you, but you were not focusing. His cologne smelled so nice. Flinching as Miguel dashed forward, you panicked and followed him. It wasn't your fault you were head over heels with him! 

"(Y/N)!"

"Oof!" You felt your spider senses tingle as you dodged an attack from Shocker, "Ah! The hell!?" You gasped as you fell into a cluster of veins.

"Ay dios mío. (Oh my god.)" Miguel spat as he went after Shocker. You hurried after the two,

"Sorry! I dozed off for the second!"

        Miguel ignored you as he easily caught the rouge Shocker. He tied Shocker up and threw him into the dimensional portal. You were about to join Miguel, but felt your spider senses warn you again. You webbed Miguel, bringing him towards you as a large bird attacked. The two of you fell towards the ground. For a brief second, Miguel wrapped his arms around you, protecting you from the fall. Luckily, you both landed on a large flower bud. Yellow pollen floating in the air.

        You sighed in relief and tried asking Miguel if he was okay, but felt him hold your head. His grip was tight as he kept your head pressed against his chest. It was almost hard to breathe.

"Miguel, I can't breathe." You muttered. Not that this was a bad thing.

"Fuck, just wait..." He groaned, "Something isn't....right."

        That was odd. Miguel sounded like he was in pain. You touched his chest to try and move but noticed him flinch. Suddenly, you felt something hard press against your stomach. Your eyes widen as your senses went off. Miguel was protecting you from this strange pollen. Trying to get his attention again, Miguel let out a low cry. This was defiantly bad! Forcing yourself away, you grabbed Miguel's face and pressed it against your chest while you held your breathe.

        The pollen was almost gone. You just had to hold on. You glanced down at Miguel and noticed that he removed his mask. Your fingers were now coiling with his soft hair. Miguel groaned again then moved his hands up your back. You shivered as his groans sent a vibration between your breasts.

"(Y/N), fuck...I need you," His tone was so needy.

"What?!" You gasped in shock.

        Your eyes widen as you inhaled some of the pollen. Suddenly, your body started to burn. You whimpered as you leaned back, rubbing your legs together as your pussy started to drip. Miguel hovered over you, his hands gently touching your sensitive bud. Your eyes widen as you let out a loud moan from just a simple touch. Miguel's suit disappeared and he used his talons to rip yours.

"M-Miguel, we...we shouldn't." You tried to tell him, but your body was burning up. Miguel kissed you feverishly,

"No, we shouldn't."

        His fingers started to pump inside your pussy as he kept kissing you. Your moans were being swallowed by him as you felt him satisfy the burning sensation. His fingers getting coated by a waterfall of your juices, desperate for more. Miguel broke the kiss, a small trail of saliva connecting the two of you. Unable to wait much longer, you reached for him, grinding yourself against his hand.

        Miguel hissed lowly and removed his fingers, needing his own burning pain to go away. He used your juices to stroke his dick as a lube. Without much warning, he easily slid his dick inside of you, thrusting away his lust. Your mind went hazy as you wrapped your legs around his waist. Miguel's dick pounding your every so hungry pussy. Whatever this pollen was made you both so horny that you weren't thinking straight. All you wanted was his dick.

        Miguel held your waist, slapping himself into you like a madman. The lewd sounds of your bodies hitting each other echoed throughout the forest. Your moans growing louder with each thrust. A mixture of his cum and your juices pooling onto the forest floor. Miguel didn't even realize he had cummed inside of you. The immense pleasure you both were feeling was overpowering your own orgasms. All the two of wanted was to keep feeling each other.

        You weren't sure how long the two of you were fucking each other dumb for. One moment you were on your back, the next you were riding him, and so on. Your body kept moving on its own as your pussy kept sucking Miguel's dick. Each thrust of his tip against your cervix sent shivers down your spine. Miguel had you back against your back, needing to go deeper. Needing to have you scream his name out.

"M-Mig-" Your words were caught off as you arched your back in pleasure.

"Fuck, look at you. Always wanted to taste this pussy," Miguel started to babble, watching his dick form a white ring from your juices, "Make you mine. What a good girl you are, taking my dick so well,"

"Ah~ M-Mig...hah...R-Right....t-there."

        Your eyes rolled back as the burning sensation started to fade away. Now you were starting to feel your orgasm. You felt your body grow weak as you cam once more. Your vision blurred slightly as you tried to call out to Miguel. His grip was on your waist was so tight. The daze you were in went away, but was now being washed over by his dick bullying your pussy. You felt so full. His dick was pushing all of his cum deeper inside you. You brain was starting to get cock drunk as you moved your hips again,

"M-Miggy~"

"That's right, say my name." Miguel panted lowly. He thumb trailing over your clit to steal another orgasm from you, "Dime que tu estrecho coño me pertenece. Que te voy a joder tonto. (Tell me that your tight pussy belongs to me. That I'm going to fuck you dumb.)" He groaned.

        Miguel started to come back to his senses as he filled you once more. He took a moment to catch his breathe, hovering over you. He slowly pulled out, watching a river of his cum spill out of your bullied cunt. Another groan escaped his lips as his suit reappeared. You were still a panting mess, trembling from the overstimulation. Miguel reached out to you, pulling you into his chest,

"Are you alright?" He asked softly. You buried your head into his shoulder,

"Fucked out." You barely whispered.

"Yeah," He agreed and looked at his watch, "¡¿Qué carajo, llevamos más de una hora follando?! (What the fuck, we've been fucking for over an hour?!)" He nearly yelled out. Your eyes widen,

"W-What?! I only came to my senses in those last few minutes!" You coughed. Miguel held your head, glancing at the nearby pollen,

"Let's get out of here."

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

        Miguel took you straight to his place afterwards. He gave you some water and helped give you a proper bath. The two of you were embarrassed to say the least. Once you were washed and rested, Miguel sat against the edge of his bed.

"Ahem," He cleared his throat, "I suppose it's too late to say that I have feelings for you." He muttered lowly. You chuckled, scooting closer to him,

"I don't think that sex pollen would have worked if you didn't," You teased him. Miguel flinched,

"Is that what you're calling it?"

"That what Lyla explained it as. Pollen that acts out of the desire to mate with one's chosen interest." You continued to tease Miguel. Miguel's ears turned red as he cussed quietly about his AI, "I like you too. Also, you owe me a new suit."

"Ya estoy trabajando en ello. Asegurándome de que desapareciera como el mío. (I'm already working on it. Making sure it came disappear like mine.)" He said, hiding his smirk.

        You grew flustered and quickly asked him about where your old suit was. Miguel brought it out, keeping it in a sealed bag. You huffed your cheeks out, telling him that it has been hours and should be fine. Opening the bag, you flatted your suit out to see the damage. As you did, yellow pollen came out of the suit, causing Miguel to give you a slight glare.

"I'm sorry!" You coughed, inhaling the pollen. Miguel threw your suit to the side, the pollen already affecting him,

"No puedo explicar lo tonto que te voy a follar ahora. Especialmente porque no recordaremos la primera puta hora. (Can't explain how much dumber I'm going to fuck you now. Especially since we won't remember the first fucking hour of it.)" He spat, his body shaking as his dick started to harden. You had your legs spread out already,

"I promise it won't happen again!"

You fucking liar

[ellethespaceunicorn]

Don't Kill My Vibe

Title: Don’t Kill My Vibe

Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI

Pairing: Clark Kent x BestFriend!Black!Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.7K

Summary: You help Clark ease the pain of his broken heart.

Warnings: mention of a breakup, recreational drug use (marijuana), friends-to-lovers trope, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected p-in-v sex, creampie, mention of bodily fluids

A/N: This is an AU where Clark Kent is not superpowered and Superman does not exist. Unbeta’d, we die like people who tried their best.

Dividers by me

Support/Reblog banner by me

Cover Art by me

My Masterlist

It wasn’t the first time Clark asked to try some bud, but it was the most pathetic. His gorgeous blue eyes were puffy from crying over that woman. As much as you wanted to say, “I told you so," you didn’t want him to feel any worse about the failed relationship with his reporter beau, Lois Lane.

And yet again, you think to yourself, ‘Fuck Lois Lane’.

When he showed up at your place an hour ago in sweatpants, sneakers, and a button-up pullover, you were surprised to see he opted for something other than his normal flannel and jeans. His hair was mussed, and he avoided eye contact with you. Something was wrong.

You dragged him into your apartment, turning down your Spotify playlist on the Bluetooth speakers so you could talk over the mellow tunes. While you flopped down on your couch, Clark sat down slowly and sighed.

You were already elevated, having taken a couple of puffs from your blue and red glass bowl earlier, so you were struggling to pay attention to everything he was saying. You tried to put on your “I’m not high” face and nod enough, saying “Oh wow” occasionally. But, in actuality, your eyes were as red as the Devil’s dick, and Clark wasn’t stupid.

His eyes looked from yours to the tray on the coffee table that held your various assortments of smoking apparatus, grinder, lighter, and stash box. Leaning forward so his elbows rested on his knees, he motioned his chin toward everything and said, “I know you’ve said no a million times, but I could use an escape. And before you say no again, know I’ve tried all the tricks in the book to get over somebody, and nothing is working.” 

“I have a feeling there’s another thing you haven’t tried either, but whatever,” you rattled on, waving off his confused expression. “Fine. It should be illegal for you to use those puppy eyes when asking me for something, by the way.”

So here you are, preparing a strawberry cone for you and Clark to share. You were always weird about people using your favorite bowl. You also figure that for a first-timer, it would be the easiest for him to start with. Twisting the end after filling the cone, you reach for the lighter and ashtray.

“First things first,” you purr, using your phone to turn the music up. “Now, watch what I do. I’m going to draw the smoke into my mouth and then hold it for a few seconds, or as long as I can, before blowing it back out. Ready?”

Clark nods as he turns toward you, tucking one leg under the other. Now that you have his full attention, you suddenly feel flustered. Casting your eyes downward, you take the cone into your mouth and light the end. You inhale deeply and take it out of your mouth. Savoring the citrus flavor of the strain, your tongue licks your lips, and you exhale. 

You close your eyes and take a few breaths. After a moment, you hear Clark’s voice breaking through your haze: “Everything good?”

Your eyes pop open, and just like nothing happened, you perk up. Handing him the cone, you blink as he holds it like someone who has never smoked. You’ve known Clark long enough that you have a suspicion that is probably true for him. 

He’s polite, almost to a fault. He screams Boy Scout, altar boy, and ‘promise ring’ all at the same time. What can you say? Clark was a good boy. And you were getting him high. You little devil! 

Clark takes a short pull from the pink-colored joint and manages to hold it for about two seconds, then attempts to exhale. A small plume escapes his mouth, he inhales sharply and has a coughing fit. You take the joint back before he drops it and sit it in the ashtray.

Rubbing his back, you try to talk him through catching his breath. You grab your water bottle and hold the straw to his mouth when he nods his thanks. He sips the water, then clears his throat loudly, burping up a bit of smoke. He laughs quickly as he sees it exit his mouth, reminding you of a little surprised dragon.

“That was fun,” he sputters, his voice deeper than usual.

“It gets easier, Clark. Trust me, coughing is normal. And most of the time, coughing gets you higher,” you laugh, picking up the joint to take another hit.

You inhale, exhaling into the air, and hold it out for Clark to take again. He sips from your water bottle and gives it to you in exchange for the joint.

Holding it between two fingers, he brings it to his lips. You watch his mouth curl around the tip, and your brain conjures up the vision of what else that boy’s mouth can do. He takes the joint out of his mouth, holding his breath for a few seconds, then blows it out slowly. He gives it back to you and leans back against the couch.

“I don’t think I feel any different yet. How long does it take to kick in?” he asks, crossing his arms and pouting.

It being his first time, he is completely unaware that he is already high. His body language is different; Clark Kent doesn’t slouch even a little. He also certainly doesn’t fidget; his hands suddenly become very interested in the material of his pullover.

“You’ll feel it sooner than you think,” you mumble, the joint between your lips as you speak.

Twenty minutes later, Clark tells you exactly what the last straw was that ended his relationship with Lois. He pauses to take a hit, handing it back to you as he exhales. “But it was always whatever she wanted. I treat her like a queen. And she goes and blows Jimmy-fucking-Olsen. Then she lies about it after Jimmy comes clean to me. I…,” he trails off, looking over at you and shaking his head as he laughs.

“What?” you question when you realize he stops talking.

“Nothing. I just… I think I’m high,” he giggles, the corners of his eyes wrinkling when he smiles at you.

“Besides being high, can you describe how you feel?” You press, wanting to know just how high he is.

“I feel lighter. Clear…er? Is it clearer or more clear? Whatever. I think I also just figured out how I want to finish that article on The Wayne Foundation,” he explains, leaning back so he is lying on his back with his head on your lap. “Is this ok? Your lap looked so comfortable,” he wonders aloud, looking up at you.

That’s when you realize three fundamental truths at the same time. 

1. Clark is single. 

2. Clark is literally in your lap.

3. The crush you have on Clark is swiftly turning into lustful infatuation.

Bringing yourself back to the present, you smile at him and say, “Yeah, of course it’s ok.” You focus on the heat radiating from your best friend as he makes himself comfortable so close to your thirsty pussy. 

“You are the best,” he replies, closing his eyes as your hand finds its way into his curls.

“This cool?” you dare, hoping that you can continue to push the boundary between friendship and something more.

As if the groan from the back of his throat wasn’t enough, he voices his satisfaction. “More than cool. I love having my hair played with. Feel free to go to town on me.”

Oh, the importance of phrasing.

This man is not going to make it easy on you.

You’re explaining to Clark about that episode of Bob’s Burgers where Bob and Linda accidentally get high after eating cookies laced with marijuana at their accountant’s office. “So, anyway. Bob, Linda, and the accountant build a pillow fort from the cushions on his couch, and somehow it makes them feel safer which I get because pillow forts were the height of safety when we were kids. And sometimes, people feel safer thinking about the simplicity of their childhood,” you rattle on, leaning forward to grab your water bottle and forgetting about Clark’s head, which is still very much in your lap.

An oomph is spoken into your boobs, and you shoot straight up to a standing position and knock Clark off your lap and onto the floor. 

“Shit!” he cries from his spot on the floor.

“Fuck, Clark! I’m so sorry! Are you ok?” You cringe, your hand touching your forehead as you watch him pull himself up.

“Hey, hey. It’s cool, I’m fine,” he reassures, his hand grabbing yours to take it away from your face. With the other hand, he grabs your chin between his thumb and forefinger. Tilting your head up, he smiles and counters, “Are you ok?”

Yeah. Fine. My tits were just thrust into your face for a bit there. Oh, and you have no idea that I like you. And that pesky curl is falling into your pretty eyes again. And your handsome face is close enough to-

One second, you’re staring at his smile; the next second, you’re attacking his mouth with yours. His lips are just as pillowy and soft as they look. At first, the kiss is timid. Surprise gives way to need as he deepens the kiss. His tongue seeks solace as it slides against the seam of your lips. Granting him entry, he licks into your mouth like an explorer discovering new lands. 

His hands find their way to your hips, bringing you impossibly close. He feasts on every whimper that leaves you, peppering in some moans of his own. This is the kiss of a man waiting for a moment like this. At least, that’s how it feels.

Begrudgingly, you slowly break away from Clark. His kiss-swollen pink lips beg to be reunited with yours, but you must prove this is real. You look up into his dilated eyes, noting how blue is almost completely taken over by black. 

You open your mouth to speak, but Clark beats you to it.

“Unless you are about to tell me you don’t want this, please just kiss me again,” he breathes, resting his forehead against yours. “I don’t know what’s more intoxicating. This drug or having you so close to me.”

Instead of worrying about what this means, you throw caution to the wind. Tilting your head, you slot your lips with his, devouring the subtle whimper that escapes him. From nervous to commanding, you feel Clark’s demeanor change as his hands wander over your body.

He picks you up by the waist, your legs instinctually wrapping around him. With you in his arms, he walks blindly to your bedroom. Once he lays you down, he covers your body with his. The hard length against your mound gives you pause, but you quickly recover as you angle your hips to meet his.

Clark breaks the kiss to sit up and remove his pullover and shirt. A pink hue dusts his cheeks as he watches you scan his torso while you bite your lip. Leaning down, he tugs at the hem of your shirt, wanting you to get rid of it. 

You oblige, now topless in front of your best friend for the first time. You don’t have time to freak out over that information because Clark hooks his fingers in your leggings, his eyes begging for permission. You raise your hips, and he pulls them down your legs along with your underwear. 

You sit up as he chucks his sweatpants, his heavy erection now visible. Your first thought is, “Now that is a pretty dick.”

“Thank you,” he says, a smirk playing on his lips.

“I said that out loud, didn’t I?” You wonder aloud, already knowing the answer.

Clark smiles, nodding at you before coaxing you to lay back. He sinks between your legs, holding them open to kiss your thighs. He teases you a bit, licking and nipping at your mound and outer labia until you wiggle your hips and whine. 

“Tsk, tsk, tsk. Patience, please,” he cautions, shaking his head at you. He winks at you, diving fully into your snatch and sucking your clit between his lips. 

You throw your head back in ecstasy as his tongue slides over your swollen button. Humming while sucking on your nub is a fucking power move, and your hands tangle in his hair. You dig your heels into his back as he laps up the juices that accumulate at your entrance. Looking down at him as he worships at the altar of your body, you are taken aback as he peeks up at you over your mound.

With your eyes locked on each other, he watches as he tips you right over the edge. He groans into your pussy, his mouth and chin soaked, as your walls contract around nothing. The euphoria of being high mixes with the joy of being with someone new for the first time.

But this isn’t just anybody; this was your best friend. Warmth and comfort exist between you, allowing you to feel safe enough to fall and that Clark will catch you.

You come down as he plants a kiss on your mound, grazing his lips up your tummy. When he is back above your face, he runs the tip of his dick across your wet folds. He maintains eye contact while he slides in for the first time. 

Once he is fully seated inside you, he lets you adjust to his size before he withdraws slightly and thrusts forward. The wet squelch of your pussy and the smack of your bodies against one another are music to your ears. Clark’s grunts as he fucks into you only fuel your impending second climax.

“Fuck, you feel so good. Too good. Not going to last long,” he warns, sitting up on his knees as his hands go to your waist. Throwing his head back, he growls and picks up the pace, using your body like his personal fucktoy.

Your back arches as he repeatedly hits that hidden bundle of nerves. A searing fire erupts in your belly as your cunt clamps down on his dick, spasming and coating it with your cream.

“Good girl! That’s it. Fucking come for me, just like that,” he encourages. “Oh, shit. I’m right fucking behind you. Fuck, fuck, fuuuuuuuuuck.”

You lock your legs around his waist, keeping him right where he is as his dick spasms and fills you to the brim. Your hands smooth down his big chest, feeling the muscles ripple as he comes down from what is probably the most intense orgasm he has ever felt. He stills soon enough, breathing back to normal as his softening length slips from you.

Flopping down next to you, Clark wraps an arm around you. You curl into his side, an arm across his stomach, and a leg thrown over his. Contented silence fills the room as you both take in this unforeseen turn of events.

Clark’s hand makes idle patterns on your back as you lay on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. You close your eyes for only a moment, missing Clark smiling at you. He gives you a quick peck on the top of your head, causing you to tilt your head to meet his eyes.

“You hungry?” you guess, feeling a bit peckish yourself.

“Yes!” he exclaims.

“Good. I know a great place down the street that makes the best samosas. Does Indian food sound good?” you ask, already tasting the rich spices of the food.

“Sounds perfect,” he says, picking up his arm to let you get up from the bed to grab your phone, watching your hips sway as you walk out to the other room.

Once back in bed, you order various dishes for the both of you. While you wait for the food, you pass a joint back and forth and steal a kiss or two. You decide there is plenty of time for you and Clark to talk. There is no use in killing the vibe for heavy stuff.

With the way Clark is looking at you, there’s not much to talk about anyway. 

🍃The End🍃

A/N: I would love to know what you think!!! Feedback is appreciated!

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[brilium]

❥ K I N K T O B E R 2 0 2 3

Masterlist

➽──────────❥

❥ DAY 9. Aphrodisiac! with Nanami Kento

Summary. Nanami has been dealing with a lot of stress at the office lately, and you decided to buy him a naturalist tea that it supposed to help with the stress relief. It seems to help with stress in a very particular way...

Content Warning. Fem! reader, no use of Y/N, all characters are adults, smut, vaginal sex, overstimulation, oral sex (m. receiving), breeding. No proof read, might edit later.

Word count. 2,203.

MINORS OR AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT !!

You bought a package of natural tea bags for stress relief. Was it suspicious? Not really. You expected them to work? Also no.

Actually, it seemed pretty normal; a simple box with small bags filled with the usual content.

You gave them to Kento when he drank in the morning before going to work. He seemed like usual; tired, with no energy and half asleep.

That was pretty much the reason why you bought them.

The tea was supposed to help him relieve stress relief, that’s why you give it to him before his stressful routine. You didn’t expect to be one of those teas.

“Fuck! S–Stay still dear!” Nanami groans, holding the headboard of the bed with one hand while the other keeps your waist firmly against the mattress as his hips slam aggressively against yours.

You look at your clothes spreader around the floor, you can't even remember when Nanami got you rid of them in the rush of kisses and make out that he put you through.

The lady at the shop gently helped you to look for a tea that would help with the stress that your husband has been having, since you’re a bit worried about his lack of words and how he skips dinner and goes to sleep. You should have suspected of her smile.

It was a damn aphrodisiac.

You cry in the pillow while he keeps thrusting with an animal fiercely, holding the sheets between your fists as his hip bone spanks against your red ass. Nanami groans fill the bedroom with the skin slapping sounds that drive you crazy.

"God— You feel so good today. I couldn't stop thinking at work about you, dear!"

And, that's fucking true, Nanami felt a weird wave of arousal as soon as he landed on his desk. Suddenly remembering how tight that shirt suited you today, he remembered how your nipples poked out softly through the fabric; and that leaded him to remember your bare body, your thighs squeezing at his sides every time he pounded on you and your sweet blush when you announced that you were about to cum—

God, he lied saying that he was sick because he needed to fuck you. It felt like ages since the last time.

When he arrived sooner, you were happy that, maybe, his boss gave him a free day. But as soon as he started kissing you as rubbing his hard erection against your stomach you knew that you’ll be the tired one today.

“P–Please! K–Kento—” You rest your cheek on the pillow to get some air, even if it’s hard to do it with his weight above yours, thrusting hard. “S–Slow down! Fuck!”

Nanami doesn’t seem to listen, actually, he does the opposite, getting a quicker peace that wins a loud scream from you. Your eyes half opened don’t let you focus clearly, although your complaints since you’re used to doing it more gently with him, you love how his tip hits constantly on your cervix like he wants to leave his mark inside you.

When you start whining against the pillow, drooling on it and starting to dig hardly your nails on your palm, you let out a small whimper of pain that startles your husband.

“D–Do you— Shit! Do you want me to stop?”

The thrusts slow down gently until stopping with some shaking from him, he doesn’t sounds like he wants to stop, even his voice shakes in need of more but his delicacy with you stays even though the way he acts right now melts a warm feeling on your chest.

You shake your head with weakness, tightening your core muscles to keep him inside. Nanami lets out a broken moan when you do it, grabbing both sides of your hips firmly and taking a deep breath.

He caresses your back from top to bottom, trying to control his need to keep slamming on you.

“This is because of that damn tea…” He scolds, going inside again more slowly even it’s a higher pain for his body needing to let out all that contained energy. "I can't even feel tiredness."

“I notice it,” You whimper, tasting how sweetly it feels his length entering again, you push your hips back a little for more and Nanami responds by unintentionally digging his nails on your skin. “Fuck— D–Don’t hold back, please...”

Nanami growls in response, he tries his best to go slow for you but even though he slowed down his thrusts, he makes sure to hit every time with enough energy to make your insides clench around his swollen dick.

You start to love this new side of him, letting out his desires to ruin you and take everything he wants. He's a gentleman, and that's perfect, but remembering that that gentleman is turning you into a mess growls a pool on your aching cunt.

When Nanami’s thrusts start to get faster and harder, you start to taste a sweet electric wave around your body as you keep hearing the headboard slamming on the wall.

“K–Kento! I’m… I’m close!” You scream, moaning his name against the sheets and grabbing them between your fists.

Nanami nods behind you, keeping his peace as he starts to feel how the knot on his stomach is about to release. He pulls you closer to him in a harsh movement and starts hitting harder, when you start crying in pleasure is when you feel a whole shiver growing along your body in the high of your orgasm. He keeps moving his hips in a messier way until he moans sharply as you feel a warmth filling your cunt.

You are breathless on the mattress as you feel the cum running down your thighs, thinking that your husband is in the same state but it takes you by surprise when he grabs you by the shoulder to make you lie on your back to look at him towering you in the bed.

He just came, a lot.

And he’s still fucking hard.

“B–But you just came!” You whine, feeling him rubbing his length along your sensitive folds. Making you roll your eyes at the sensation and having to bite your lip to not moan in response. "Kento—"

“P–Please… Fuck, you feel so warm” Nanami moans quietly between his teeths, putting his tip right on your entrance and you feel a cold chill running through your spine. “If you are still tight maybe I’ll cum sooner and the effect of the tea goes away.”

You know that he's inventing all that, you both don't know how long that effect is going to last but you’re not complaining when his tip opens your walls again.

Nanami starts to push and you throw your head back on the pillow with a pained moan, you are still really wet from the previous orgasm, but also damn sensitive. He hasn't even fully entered but yet it already has you breathing hard and biting your lip.

He grabs your thighs to spread them and has a good entrance to you when he starts stroking again, but it doesn't seem to be enough for him. Nanami does the opposite by lifting your calves to put them on his shoulders as he starts to hit again.

This new position lifts your hips a little more and gives him a good angle to hit on your cunt and turn you into a mess of moans, feeling him hitting on the cervix in such a delicious way.

His eyes travel down along your body from your parted lips crying his name; your tits being squeezed between one of your hands, trying to keep them both stimulated; and fuck, the nice view of your cunt squeezing on his fat cock around the white ring of cum around it.

You squirm on the mattress, feeling like a rag doll in the hold of his strong body.

"F–Fuck! Fuck!" You bring one of your hands between your legs to rub your swollen clit to get closer to the second orgasm. Nanami groans at the feeling of your folds hugging him tightly.

Nanami lets go of your thighs on your sides to bend closer to you, but his hips keep slamming on you like he's just started while you already started to feel your body getting sore.

You thought that he leaned closer to kiss you through the thrusts, but he stopped right in front of your breasts to start  sucking on your nipples and let them go with a "Pop!". When his hard thrusts make it hard for him to reach the nipple, he just chooses to suck on the soft skin of your breasts, leaving a dark red mark on there.

His tongue drills on the tip of your sensitive bud, biting it softly between his teeths to make your back arch for more. It's when in one of those movements that your vision goes blurry as your hands fly to his back and start to scratch it with your nails. 

"K–Kento! Yes, yes!" You roll your eyes, feeling his dick strokes on the right spot between your walls "Right there! Yes!" 

Nanami hugs you back to keep you steady as he keeps hitting, feeling your cunt tightening around him. You cry his name repeatedly against his shoulder as he thrusts while you ride the second orgasm.

You spasm under him, trembling and feeling small tears on the border of your eyes as he calms down above you. Even your walls clench around his length at the sound of his hard breathing beside your ear.

"D–Dear… I—"

You interrupt Nanami, pushing him softly to lie on his back beside you. He opens his eyes wide when you use the last remains of your strength to straddle I'm front of his swollen dick, holding the base of it with one hand as you get closer to it.

"Gosh! You gave me two sweet orgasms and you haven't even cum once…" A pout grows in your face, holding his cock to hit it softly on your cheek, loving the way Nanami’s body jumps slightly at the touch.

"Am I that bad in bed?" You continue, passing slowly your tongue flatly from his base to his tip to taste his precum combined with the last of your fluids. "Is that so, Kento? You want me to stop?"

Nanami shakes his head, bringing a hand to your cheek, caressing sweetly as he bites his lip to not scream at the way you tease him with soft licks along his member. 

"No… Don’t stop."

You smirk, licking his tip in circles with your tongue before sliding it between your lips and pull back. You enjoy his cries and pleas until you finally decide to take the most that you can, swallowing with your cheeks as he throws his head back with a growl.

It's been a while since you gave him a blow job, so you forgot how fat his cock felt inside your mouth, struggling to take it all as you jerk the rest with your hand as you lick his tip in circles before taking it all again.

But he squirms so nicely on the bed…

You laugh against his dick, sending vibrations that make him cry softly, you keep going slowly until his hands push you down to take more. You gag around him and he growls pleased, thrusting up to hit the back of your throat, making you cry softly as the sound of his guttural moans fill your ears.

"Yes, yes! You take me so well, dear!" It doesn't take longer until Nanami pulls your head back by tangling his fingers on your hair, leaving a thin thread of drool from his tip to your lip.

You look at Nanami trying to get up on his knees in front of you with your flushed cheeks and fucked out gaze. He pumps along his swollen dick in front of you a few strokes until he throws the thick lines of cum around all your face, falling down along your cheeks, mouth and some drips on your tits.

Nanami groans relieved and fall on his knees in the mattress, looking at you cleaning the rest with your thumb to suck it.

"Don’t do that, let me clean you."

"Why? Is it gross for you?" You ask, genuinely. Stopping to look around for the tissues, but Nanami’s head weight on your lap, his broken breathing hits on your thighs, giving you tickles. 

"No… I'll get hard again if I see you doing it. I still feel some dizziness from that stupid tea."

You giggle, playing with his hair with one hand as you clean the last remains with the back of your hand, waiting for cleaning it properly later.

"Don’t call it stupid! You seem less stressed, actually."

Nanami groans annoyed, slapping softly on your bare thigh.

"Maybe, but I'm stressed on what medical excuse I'll have to create for my work."

"Just tell them that something in the morning hurt your tummy."

Nanami hums in response, about to fall asleep on your thighs and you smirk before leaning closer to his ear.

"Since you’re not going back to work… Do you want another tea?"

[totallybakedcake]

Imperfectly perfect

Sypnosis- You overwork yourself and your boyfriend freaks out. Pairing- Hoshina x fem reader

Huff, puff,huff,puff. It was now a normal thing for you to gasp for breath and just hold your polearm till it formed bruises in your arms. You were just thinking about your training, nothing more.

You stopped as you heard Okongi say, "Kikoru Shinomoya, release force 70 percent."

"Platoon leader name released force 80 percent. That's the most release force recorded for a platoon leader. Platoon leader name, platoon leader name, can you hear me? Can you hear me?" Okongi spoke, trying to get you back to your senses. Concern was starting to take over her, as you could hear her practically start yelling your name.

"Name!" You felt like you were slapped back to reality. Looking up, you saw Kafka, Leno, and Kikoru looking at you with a look of almost desperation. Kafka was shaking your shoulders while the rest were calling out to you. "Did I zone out?" You spoke as a mere whisper as you felt a wave of pain coursing through your body. Leno spoke, "Platoon leader, name. We were all training with you, but after training ended, you were on the floor, zoning out. It had been 5 whole minutes until you finally responded back to us. You should definitely have a look in the medical room. This has been happening ever since we joined you in training."

"Sorry to bother you guys so much. I am going to go to the medical ward soon, just being prepared after it was said that Kaiju No. 8 was a daikaiju, and just stressing all over. I'm sorry, you gotta get going now."

The trio watched as you hurriedly walked away. I was trying to calm Okongi down as she scolded you. "The platoon leader should really take care of herself. Even if she has great abilities and all, she should start taking care more. Has she even told Vice Captain Hoshina about this?" Kikoru and Leno nodded in agreement before walking away for lunch.

You love Hoshina more than your own life, but sometimes you really cannot show your true self to him. Down the whole mask of an understanding and cool person you try to be. There are many things that are hidden deep inside your heart. There are some things that you cannot express to your dear Hoshina.

Name was taking quick strides to get to a place. She was trying to cover herself so no one could see her, but then she arrived. A traditional Japanese estate, it was adorned with lamps and cute statues. The doors and windows were huge when you turned to the left; there was even a pond in the whole area. You went towards the backyard to see the preparations already done.

There he was, Mr. Hoshina. The current head of the Hoshina clan, as well as Soshiro's father, He was already in a kimino with a katana in his hand. He looked towards you and said, "Let's start, name."

Flashback

"Soshiro, it has been almost a month with no improvements." You slumped against the wall, burying your head in your arms. You would cry at any moment. It had been almost a month, and your release force was just decreasing. You could lose your position as a platoon leader if this continues. Soshiro had been a witness to your breakdown. He tried many times to calm you down and motivate you, but now he needed a new method. He went towards you, gently placing you on the sofa as he kissed your temple and said, "Oh cupcake, why do you worry about your pretty head so much? It makes me feel upset too. How bout' I tell you a great plan that will work surely?" He was rubbing your back in a comforting manner as you peered up with puffy red eyes.

"Tell me." You spoke just like a sad child, glimmering with hope. Soshiro grinned. He loved this particular trait about you a lot. He leaned down and spoke in a teasing manner. "For that, calm down." Showing him a pout and a glare at the same time, he grabbed your hand and spoke. "My father is great at polearming and close combat too. How about you train under him? It will surely prove results." He spoke in a promising tone that made you obviously agree with it.

Back to reality, it really worked. Your capabilities as a platoon leader skyrocketed. You were so happy—too happy, in fact—that you almost suffocated the vice captain himself in a tight hug. He was just glad that you were back to your usual persona, nothing more.

But things started to go downhill after that. You started training a lot more. After all the new Kaiju threats, you had to. You would overwork yourself to the point that even drinking water or getting proper rest was a second priority now. You just wanted to be strong and protect Soshiro and others with your strength, nothing more. Did you tell Soshiro about this? No. Will you? Absolutely no. He will stop your training as a whole and will be extra protective of you if that happens.

You tried your best to hide all the exhaustion and pain your body had started to accumulate, and you showed signs of overworking, but still you tried to cover it up. No matter how hard you tried, Hoshina was destined to find out about it.

It was evening, and you were still training. You were still training and training before you felt pain in your nose. It was a nose bleed, the sixth this week. You just wiped it off with your hand before getting in a position where you could fight, but you felt someone grab your hand in a firm grip. "Name, that's enough." You looked to see Soshiro; his eyes were wide open, looking at you. You were sweating buckets as blood was smeared on your face. Small cuts and bruises were peeking through, which was making Soshiro more concerned as the seconds went by.

"Let's go home." Soshiro spoke in a demanding tone as he grabbed your hand and started to walk.

You, on the other hand, felt really dizzy; your head was spinning, and the moment you moved your body, it ached. Feeling all the energy drained out of you, black splashes appeared in your vision as everything went black. Soshiro's eyes widened as you fell into his arms, his body going completely limp. "Name, this isn't funny. I don't like this prank. Please wake up." He shook your body, but no reactions came from you. He cussed; he knew you were training hard, but to the point you passed out because of it was something he never imagined. If only he had been faster to catch on, this wouldn't have happened.

He scooped you up in his arms, cradling your exhausted form. He just wants you to be okay.

Fluttering your eyes open, you groaned in pain. Your head throbbed, your entire body was feeling different types of pain, and your eyes felt heavy. "Yer awake, how are you?" You turned your head to see Hoshina coming close to you, as he had a tray with soup. His voice was much quieter and calmer, the opposite of his normal cheerful self. His eyes were wide open, and you could see the bags under his eyes.

"What happened?" Was the first thing you said.

Hoshina's expression turned grim as she placed the tray down and sat beside you on the bed. "Name, you passed out from exhaustion. You've been pushing yourself too hard."

You tried to sit up and get closer to him, but dizziness fell over you as Hoshina pushed you back down, his grip on your hand getting tighter. "Promise me, promise me you will never overwork yourself like that ever again." He held out his pinky finger and looked at you with a soft gaze.

"I promise." You interweaved your fingers in his as he pulled you closer for a deep kiss. The butterflies were flooding your stomach as heat rose up to your face.

"I have forcefully given you a week to recover, so no arguing now." He grinned as you let out a scoff and pulled him for another kiss. "I wasn't planning too."

Soshiro fell on top of you as he wrapped his arms around your figure, trapping you in his embrace and peppering you with kisses.

Let's just say he spoiled you rotten this night.

Note- Aah I did it I uploaded this thing. It was super fun to write this. My next kaiju no 8 fic might take a while as the next thing I will upload is a windbreaker fic. I watched the whole anime 4 days and completed the manga very quickly too, exams are now coming and just school is just too much now so no new fics maybe.

Have a good day!:D

[mcntsee]

— ★ tomorrow

↳ summary: “I wasted all those yesterdays, and now,—“ His words trailed off with a sigh, his eyes red-rimmed from hours of tears shed in the hospital, his gaze blurry as it searched for her face, “—What if I am completely out of tomorrows?”

↳ warnings: hospitals, mentions of gunshot wounds, pain, regret, not proof-read. No use of “y/n”

↳ author’s note: This is fluff, I promise the end is really sweet! This is also inspired by different, random, pinterest quotes my friends sent me. Enjoy!

* ੈ✩‧₊˚

No one enjoyed hospitals. The colors lacked vibrancy, the sounds became repetitive after a few minutes, the antiseptic smell was overpowering, the food tasted bland, and the anxious wait for news about a loved one was excruciating.

Unfortunately, the team was all too familiar with hospital waiting rooms, and even more unfortunate was their familiarity with being patients themselves.

Thankfully, the Federal Employees' Compensation Act provided some relief. Without it, they couldn't even begin to fathom the astronomical medical bills they'd be facing.

Tonight, however, finding themselves stuck in the uncomfortable chairs of the hospital waiting room had not been part of their plans.

The young genius's head throbbed relentlessly, a sensation he'd endured for weeks. The unimaginable pressure around his entire head, compounded with the bright light reflecting off the hospital's shiny white walls, the incessant beeping and the sounds of loved ones crying doing nothing other than intensify his discomfort.

The nurse they had bombarded with questions upon arrival had emerged not long ago to thankfully inform them that everything was alright. The surgery had gone well, and she was now in recovery. Soon enough, if they wished, they could stop by her new temporary room and visit her.

By now, most of the team had returned to the office. Hotch had been called back to work to tackle the pending files on their desks. Fortunately, he had allowed Rossi and Reid to remain behind. Ostensibly, their task was to update the team on her condition, but both of them understood that even if that hadn’t been necessary, there was no force on earth that could have budged Spencer from his spot, where he had been stationed for the last however many hours.

Spencer could feel David's gaze piercing through him. He wanted to snap at him, but he knew his current behavior had undoubtedly attracted more attention than just the older agent's. Clutching at his head, tugging on strands of hair intermittently, his leg bouncing up and down, with eyes tightly shut—his agitation was palpable.

“Kid, they said she’s alright. You need to relax.”

It was true, they had been told that, but it did little to reassure him. His mind raced through various worst-case scenarios. Her wound could become infected, or there might be undetected damage to internal organs. He fretted over potential complications like inflammation of the peritoneum, the formation of blood clots, or even damage to blood vessels leading to reduced blood flow to vital organs, potentially resulting in organ dysfunction or failure.

“The survival rate might seem high, but statistically speaking, complications can arise, even with the best medical care.”

“Spencer—“

“For instance, studies have shown that gunshot wounds to the abdomen carry a significant risk of infection, with rates as high as 20%. And there’s the possibility of peritonitis, which occurs in approximately 10% of cases.”

“Kid—“

“Organ damage is also a concern, particularly with injuries to vital organs like the liver or intestines. Even with the most advanced treatments—“

“Reid!”

For the first time since he sat down, his leg ceased its relentless movement. His hand, which had been tugging at the ends of his hair, relaxed and dropped to his lap, along with the hand he had been waving in the air to explain the statistics. His eyes unclenched, the worry in his brow disappearing as the rest of his facial muscles relaxed.

“What is going on, Spencer?”

The genius's eyes met the older agent's worried gaze with deliberate blinks, adjusting to the harsh fluorescent lights overhead while tuning out the cacophony of noise that surrounded them. “I just— I”

“I never told her and I— I don’t— “ His breathing was uneven, his words tumbling out faster than his mind could keep pace, his mouth struggling to articulate as his chest constricted with anxiety.

A gentle weight settled on his shoulder, its warmth grounding him as it gave a light shake, bringing him back to the present moment and prompting him to pause and take a breath.

“Rossi I- I devoted half my time since meeting her to loving her, only to spend the other half hiding it from her.”

With a sigh, the formerly retired agent settled down next to the much younger agent, his hands staying on the genius's shoulder as he shifted slightly to find a comfortable position.

Reid's gaze lingered on Rossi's face for a moment before he averted it, focusing instead on the bustling activity in the hallway where nurses and doctors hurried back and forth attending to patients.

“Every moment we shared, every laugh, every smile she graced me with, even in her unconscious gestures—“ His gaze returned to the hallway momentarily before lowering to where his hands rested on his knees. With a quick, almost imperceptible shake of his head, he cleared his throat. “Every time I looked at her, the words swelled in my throat. I longed to tell her how much she truly means to me, the happiness and peace she effortlessly brings into my world.”

“To tell her that I love her. That I have for a while now.”

David’s mouth opened, but before he could utter a word, Spencer's pointer finger shot up in the air, silencing any impending speech. It hovered there for a brief moment before his whole palm opened, effectively halting whatever words David had intended to say and then dropping back down to his lap.

“Every single time, I held back. I stopped myself from reaching out to her, from letting my true feelings spill out, from whispering all the things I desperately wished she knew.” His words cracked along with his voice as he, for the first time, admitted aloud feelings he had hidden for so long. “And with my heart pounding in my ears, I always just watched her, silently promising myself, ‘Tomorrow. I’ll tell her tomorrow.’”

“I wasted all those yesterdays, and now,—“ His words trailed off with a sigh that escaped his lips, his eyes red-rimmed from hours of tears shed in the hospital, his gaze blurry as it searched for the older man’s face, “—What if I am completely out of tomorrows?”

They sat in silence for a moment, the weight of Spencer's admission hanging between them until the ringing of a phone shattered the stillness. With a sigh, Rossi reached into his pocket, retrieving the vibrating phone and glancing at the contact name.

“She’ll be okay, kid.”

With one final, reassuring squeeze to his shoulder, the older man rose to his feet, his knee cracking audibly as he turned to leave. Despite his efforts at reassurance, Spencer's profound anxiety remained largely unchanged.

He felt utterly helpless, his mind desperately grasping for solutions, for the comforting embrace of statistical analysis with its reassuring numbers. But instead, there was only silence. For the first time in his life, his mind was empty, devoid of answers, devoid of the usual cacophony of thoughts and calculations.

He couldn't recall the moment the nurse returned to inform him that he could visit her, nor did he remember following the nurse into the room and settling down beside her bed.

He cast restless glances around the room, his eyes darting from one piece of medical equipment to another, then flitting to the walls and ceiling. His gaze moved incessantly, pausing only briefly before moving on, taking in every detail. Except for her.

Alone in the quiet with her, he couldn't bring himself to meet her frame. To look at her now would make everything feel too real, and his heart was already heavy with pain.

His body felt like it was betraying him. Breathing became labored, thoughts fragmented, and the pain in his heart seemed insurmountable.

He wanted to tell someone— no, he wanted to tell her, but he knew she wouldn’t have a solution like she always did. So he sat there, his hands nervously tugging at strands of hair, eyes squeezed shut against the overwhelming cacophony of beeping machines surrounding them.

His heart weighed heavily in his chest, burdened by the weight of pain, regret, and fear. It was a sensation he never wanted to experience again, a darkness that threatened to engulf him entirely.

Throughout the night, nurses came and went. Some spoke to him, gave him updates on her condition but he didn’t listen. He tried, he just couldn’t understand it.

As the first light of dawn crept over the horizon, he reluctantly turned his gaze toward her bed. His eyes lingered on her hand, once so delicate and warm in his, now adorned with tubes and wires connecting her to different machines.

With a heavy sigh, his eyes remained fixed on her hand as he leaned forward, feeling the strain in his back from hours of immobility. With gentle care, he reached out and clasped her hand in his, his thumb tracing soothing circles over the back of it, mindful of the wires and tubes.

He remained still for a moment, relishing the warmth of her hand in his before allowing his gaze to travel up her arm, eyes tracing the patterns of the thin, cream-colored blanket that draped over her midsection when they got there. Then, his gaze shifted to her other arm, positioned protectively over her stomach where the wound lay, as if guarding it from further harm.

He studied the blue hospital gown draped over her body, its hue accentuating the sickly paleness of her skin. He traced every curve, every wrinkle, every wire, everything until his eyes finally met her bruised face.

She looked so peaceful and beautiful, devoid of worry. The furrows that typically marked her brow now absent, her closed eyes darting beneath her lids.

Tears welled in his eyes, the overwhelming emotions washing over him as he gazed upon her form. There was no smile, no gentle words escaping her lips, just a faintly parted mouth and serene countenance.

“Please wake up.” he whispered, his voice raspy from not being used in hours. “Please.” The desperation in his voice was evident in the way it cracked, in the way his chest tightened, in the way his throat constricted.

But she didn’t. Not for two weeks.

The medics reassured the team that she was showing positive signs and was going to be fine. They explained that in cases of severe internal bleeding within the abdominal cavity, it was common for patients to take longer to regain consciousness. "Sometimes, this can lead to hypovolemic shock and reduced blood flow to vital organs, including the brain," said the doctor they were currently questioning, one arm cradling a notepad against his chest while the other gestured towards her on the hospital bed, "which contributes to the prolonged unconsciousness she's experiencing."

Once the team's questions were answered, the doctor turned towards the door, his pen moving rapidly across the notepad as he scribbled something down. Upon reaching the door, he paused, pivoting back to face them. "While I can't predict the exact timeline for her awakening, I want to reassure you that we're doing everything we can to support her recovery." Tucking his pen back into his chest pocket, he scanned the room, meeting each person's gaze before lingering on on the genius’.

"Every individual responds differently to trauma and surgery, and it's not uncommon for patients to take some time to regain consciousness," he said, his tone gentle and reassuring, his kind smile directed at Spencer. "However, I want to emphasize that she's showing positive signs of progress, and her body is responding well to treatment. She should be waking up soon." With a final nod in the genius’ direction, he opened the door and disappeared into the flow of medical staff and patients outside her room.

The doctor's reassuring words and comforting demeanor provided Spencer with a small sense of relief.

As the days stretched on, nearing the two-week mark since her surgery, Spencer's exhaustion was becoming more evident. Dark circles underlined his eyes, his hair unkempt, and he felt the weight of fatigue settling into his bones. Sitting by her bedside day after day had taken its toll, leaving him feeling drained and with a sore backside.

It wasn’t until night, when he was alone with her again that he made a promise. “If you wake up tomorrow, I promise—“ He delicately released her hand, curling his fingers into a fist before extending his pinky finger to link with hers. “I pinky promise,” he whispered, a soft, trembling laugh escaping his lips as he recalled her insistence that a promise was only truly binding if sealed with a pinky. “If you wake up tomorrow, I’ll tell you everything.”

He had made up his mind days ago, swearing to himself that the moment she regained consciousness, he would lay everything bare. He hoped that verbalizing the promise would somehow penetrate her unconsciousness and draw her back to him.

As the night wore on and the room bathed in the soft glow of predawn, his senses awakened to a subtle movement near his head, his mind clouded with confusion as he remained still, trying to grasp his surroundings.

He found himself in a hazy state, unable to pinpoint the exact moment sleep had claimed him, yet the sensation of their linked pinkies lingered, his other hand placed gently on her leg, while his head rested on the bed.

It wasn’t until he felt his pinky being squeezed that Spencer’s senses sharpened, his back straightening with a crack as his eyes snapped into focus on her. The familiar furrow returned to her brow as she squeezed her eyes shut, her free hand instinctively reaching up to rub at her forehead.

His breath caught in his throat, his body frozen as he stared at her, his heart pounding loudly in his ears.

“Spence?”

Her voice was raspy, her tone confused as her eyes opened and scanned the room. Without hesitation, he rose from his seat, hands releasing hers as he hurried to the table with the water bottles. He swiftly grabbed one, unscrewing the cap as he returned to her side.

She struggled to lift herself up on her elbows, her eyes tracking his movements, fixated on the open water bottle as he presented it to her. With a gentle nod from her, he brought the bottle closer, tipping it carefully as it reached her parched lips, his other hand positioned beneath her chin, ready to catch any droplets that might escape.

After consuming almost half of the bottle, she gently pushed it away from her lips, taking a moment to swallow the last gulp before lying back down.

He remained in a state of shock, his mind racing faster than it had in weeks, attempting to process the moment as he observed her shifting, striving to find a comfortable position.

“Spence?”

“You—” he began, his words trailing off as he struggled to articulate his thoughts. “You are awake.”

At his words, a gentle smile, the one he had longed to see for weeks, graced her lips. She nodded in acknowledgment as she looked at him. Without hesitation, he moved forward, enveloping her in a tight embrace, being careful not to hurt her. "You're awake," he whispered softly, his face nuzzling into her neck.

He knew he was supposed to call a nurse in —something the staff had reminded him of repeatedly— , but in that moment, he couldn’t bear to let her go. So, he held her tighter, his arms enveloping her as if protecting her from everything, his hand gently cradling the back of her head, thumb tracing soothing circles as he drew her closer.

They stayed like that for what felt like an eternity before he released her from his embrace, his body reluctantly withdrawing from her warmth. His hands remained, tenderly cupping her face as he gazed into her eyes, memorizing every detail of her being.

"I have to tell you something," he whispered, gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. The familiar nerves and doubt flooded back, causing his heart to race so fast that he knew that if he had been the one hooked up to the machines, medics would have surely burst into the room thinking someone was having a heart attack.

He hesitated, his eyes lingering on her face, absorbing every detail illuminated by the gentle glow of the sun filtering into the room.

In his hesitation, his mind revisited every memory he shared with her. He recalled the moments he wanted to confess but held back, as well as his conversation with Rossi. Then, the memory of their pinky promise last night resurfaced, reminding him of his commitment. He couldn’t break a pinky promise.

“Spencer?”

“I love you.” There. He said it. His gaze lowered in fear of rejection, the nerves in his stomach growing, but he kept going, he had to. “I am so unimaginably in love with you.”

“Spencer—“

“No, I need—“ he paused, his eyes brimming with unshed tears, gazing still fixated downward as he cleared his throat from the imaginary knot that was beginning to form there. “I need you to know that every time you smile, every time you laugh, every time you talk to me, it’s like my whole world lights up.”

“And when you look at me, it’s like everything else fades away, and there’s just you.” With a deep inhale, he squeezed his eyes shut, colors swirling behind his eyelids from the pressure, before slowly exhaling and looking up to meet her gaze. “I can’t even scientifically explain how you make me feel. There is no book, or research article that explains what you make me feel.”

One of his hands left her face, gesturing through the air as he attempted to explain everything without the safety net of statistical knowledge. “Every time I’m near you, it’s like my heart speeds up so much that, scientifically speaking, I should be dead.” The quiet chuckle that escaped her lips reached his ears, easing the tight lines on his forehead as his lips formed into a gentle smile. “But it doesn’t matter, because being near you makes me feel more alive than I’ve ever felt before.”

“Every little thing you do, it just… it makes me fall more and more in love with you.”

“God, I’ve loved you for so long.” His hand halted its relentless movement and lowered to push the hair out of his eyes before running down his face with a grunt of frustration.

"I've fought multiple inner battles trying to tell you how I feel, only to back down at the last minute, silently promising myself that I would do it the next day."

Her eyes softened at his words, her lips pulling into a sad smile as his remained parted, eyes teary as they left her gaze and focused on his lap. “And then you got shot and I—“ The memories of everything that happened in the last two weeks rushing back to him. "I thought I had run out of next days.”

Her hand, which had been holding his against her cheek, shifted gently, cupping his cheek and wiping away the tear that had managed to escape his eyes.

With a sigh, he looked up to meet her eyes again, his own free hand coming up to hold the hand she now had on his cheek. He leaned into her touch, his head resting against her hand as she rubbed soothing circles against the stubble that had appeared after weeks of not shaving. “I adore you.”

His face inched closer to hers, resting his forehead against hers. "I’m fine with whatever you want as long as I'm able to have you in my life," he whispered, his warm breath brushing against her skin. "I love you so, so much. Always." With that, their foreheads separated and his lips moved up to plant a gentle kiss on her forehead.

The room fell silent, his words hanging in the air as she processed them. After another second, Spencer moved, standing up and letting her know that he was going to go get a nurse before quickly disappearing.

The nurses flooded her room with warmth and care, each one exuding kindness as they attended to her needs, explaining her situation, answering questions, and expressing relief that she was recovering well.

Spencer stood patiently by the door, his shoulder leaning against the frame as he observed the nurses with gratitude, thanking them as they left after ensuring everything was in order.

As the last nurse made her way to the door, she slowed her footsteps, casting a reassuring smile at Spencer. “I told you she’d be alright, sweetheart,” she said with a gentle tone.

Marisa, the lovely old nurse, had not only been concerned about his best friend’s well-being but also his. The genius could confidently say that, had it not been for Marisa, he probably would’ve starved in that hospital chair.

She would often stop by during her morning shift, offering reassurance that she would be alright, often bending a few hospital rules to make Spencer more comfortable, providing him with the comfiest blankets, or allowing him to take showers in the bedroom’s bathroom so he wouldn’t have to leave her side.

She also insisted on him taking breaks to get some fresh air, eat proper meals, and change his clothes, assuring him that if anything happened, she would call him immediately.

With a comforting squeeze to his arm, the nurse left, closing the door gently behind her and leaving the two of them alone in the room.

As he settled back into the familiar chair, their eyes met once more, exchanging a silent understanding. They sat in comfortable silence for a while, relishing each other's presence. Eventually, Spencer broke the quietude. "I should call the team," he suggested softly.

He rose from the chair, his hand diving into his pocket to retrieve his phone. With his back turned to her, he scrolled through his contacts, his foot shifting slightly as he prepared to step away.

Before he could get far, his movements halted by the touch of her hand on his arm, he lowered his phone and turned back to her, meeting her gaze with curiosity. "Wait," she said softly. With a nod, he returned his phone to his pocket, yielding to her gentle tug until he found himself seated by her side on the bed.

A grunt of discomfort escaped her lips as she struggled to sit up, reaching out for his hand for support. Once she was upright, she shifted closer to him. “What are- oomf—“ before he could finish, his question was cut off by the sudden press of her lips against his, her hands gripping the back of his head.

His body momentarily stiffened, eyes widening in surprise as he tried to process what was happening. When it finally clicked, the initial shock turned into a gentle surrender as he closed his eyes, allowing himself to be swept away by the warmth of her lips against his.

With a soft exhale, his hand instinctively rose to caress her cheek, pulling her face even closer to his and deepening the kiss.

If he had ever believed his heart couldn’t beat any faster than when in her presence, he stood corrected. Now, he was certain he was experiencing a heart attack.

His lips moved against hers so perfectly, as if they had kissed a thousand times before, as if their souls recognized each other instantly.

It was perfect, not because it was flawless, but because it felt so real.

He never wanted to stop; her lips were addicting, but when his lungs screamed at him for air, he reluctantly pulled his lips away from hers, resting his forehead against hers as they caught their breath.

“I love you too, Spencer.”

His head jerked back, eyes wide open as he looked at her, scanning her expression, looking for any hint that she was lying, only to find honesty shining through her eyes.

With a laugh, she took his face back in her hands, pulling him closer and pressing a quick kiss to his lips. “You have, and will always be the one my heart searches for in a world full of everyone else.”

With a toothy smile, he pulled her lips back to his, chuckling inwardly, as their lips met, acknowledging that if he thought he reached the peak before, he was mistaken again. His heart was racing faster than ever before. A heart attack of a different kind.

A heart attack that he’d gladly experience a million times more.

[charlie-lec-stories]

Nightmares // CL16 & MV1

Pairing: Charles Leclerc / Original Female Character / Max Verstappen

Summary: Everyone deals with their own battle, but they are always easier faced together.

Warnings: Abusive parenting, homophobia, abandonment issues, sexism, grief and childhood trauma.

Author’s Note: This is about companionship, we all deal with our own pain and we all have a past that still haunts us. This is about facing those battles hand in hand with the people you love. I wrote this some time ago, listening to 'Return the favor' and 'Therapy', both by All Time Low, and 'The only exception' by Paramore. I highly recommend listen to those tracks. I hope you like the story. Rate: +16 (descriptions of violence)

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The cold wind from outside filtered through a small dent on Max's bedroom window and the contact it made with his uncovered skin made him shiver. He thought about all the other punishments he had endured before over his 16 years of life and he assured himself that it could have gotten worse. Spending the winter night on his bedroom floor, in underwear, was way better than when he had to spend a week sleeping in the back yard because he came in second on an important race. It was also better than when his father left him alone in that gas station, the fear so intense that he ended up crying on the bathroom floor, hiding from the strangers around. At least he was in his home, in his room and he had his stuffed lion to keep him company. He gripped it tightly, feeling a little stupid for keeping such a childish object when he was that old, but it was the only thing that brought him a little comfort. He thought about his mother, who gave him the lion, and wondered what his life would be like if he had stayed with his mom and sister instead of his father. Would he be happier? Would he be as good at racing as he was? Would his mother have accepted him for who he was? He had an answer for that one: Yes. His mother would have chosen to love him anyways, he was sure of that. He wished, with his whole heart, to close his eyes and wake up in a better place, where he was loved for who he was. So he closed his eyes and waited for his wish to come true.

Max woke up in a cold sweat, he could still feel his fingers and toes frozen, the floor against his bare legs. A decade had passed from that night, but he still had nightmares about it once in a while. His childhood always came back whenever he was stressed or with low batteries. It was like his brain tried to sabotage him, filling him with more pain than he already felt. He looked to his left and found Charles sound asleep, his arms under the pillow, bringing it closer to his face, a peaceful look adorning his features. He knew that Charles had his own battles, and that he dreamed of his own nightmares, but how he wished he had the kind of father Charles had. Hervé was a loving husband and parent and even though he left this Earth way too early, he left a wonderful mark on everyone who knew him. His children loved him, his wife Pascale loved him. What did his father do? He also left marks, his mom had an order of protection against him, his sister was terrified of him, and Max did everything he could to run away as far as possible so he didn't have to be near him. If he could, he would bring back Hervé and give up his father. With a sigh and feeling a little guilty for his thoughts, he finally got up. He had to look for his girl, who was definitely hiding somewhere instead of being in bed with them.

The sky was still pretty dark outside, the stars shining on Monaco's natural ceiling, the full moon big over the Mediterranean Sea. He found her sitting on the floor of the balcony, a cigarette between her lips and her eyes lost in the waves that crashed rhythmically on the beach. Charles hated when she smoked, so she did it outside, so the stick of the nicotine wouldn't stay on her clothes. Max didn't like it either, but he tolerated the habit because he knew that it helped her calm down, one day he would make her switch to something healthier. Some day. Before stepping out, he caught a glimpse of the beloved lion on one of the living room shelves, so he grabbed it and hugged it close, a familiar calmness running all over his body. If she heard him walk out, she didn't show, but she must definitely have noticed his presence when he sat down next to her. They were used to the silent conversations, they had had them their whole friendship. Secret gazes, millimetric gestures that only they could read, the changes on each other's skins when the other was around. They were used to the effect they had on each other, so he knew that she felt him there when the hairs of her arms stood up and her breathing changed, because even if she didn't say anything, her body did.

"Which one was it this time?". She asked, not even looking at him.

"The night I came out". He had said it so many times that his voice didn't break anymore.

"That one is tough". The comment was swallowed by the poof she gave to the cigarette, but he got it.

"It was. It always comes back whenever I'm happy with you, but angry at racing". And it made sense, after all the punishment wasn't only for coming out of the closet, it was also because Jos was sure that 'the queerness' of Max would make him a mediocre driver.

"You know that losing this championship wasn't your lack of concentration or skill. Charles is as great as us, and for the love of God, Ferrari finally did things right for once". He knew that, still, he lost and he always had a hard time losing. He lost in 2024 against her, he lost in 2025 against Charles, would he ever be able to win again? "You are a 3 times World Champion, Max. You don't owe anything to anyone, and I can assure you that you're not mediocre".

He pulled her close and took her cigarette away, she was about to complain when he pressed his lips against hers, kissing her deeply. He believed her, every word, and he was grateful that he had her to remind him of the amazing person he was and could be. They pulled apart when they heard movement inside, the curtains of the living room moving aside as Charles walked out to the balcony. Sleep was still written all over his face, but he woke up fully pretty quickly when he felt the dense atmosphere that wrapped them up. He walked over to them, a mixture of curiousness and worry in his eyes as he scanned them over. They pulled apart to make some room for him to sit in the middle, Charles noticed the lion and the cigarettes, understanding the situation. Resting his back against the building's wall, he pulled them to his chest and ran his hands up and down their arms, hoping for it to be enough. He saw Max's grip tighten around the old stuffed animal, the marks of his pyton's grip over the years clear on it. Charles pulled him a little bit closer and kissed his head.

"You're anything but ordinary".

She did all she could to get loose, but the grip on her arm was so tight it was impossible to break. She screamed and kicked as her mother dragged her to the room, she wished that her racing suit was ticker, so her arm wouldn't hurt that much. Her father was crying and pleading behind them, asking for his wife to finally let go, but it was pointless, when had she ever listened to anything he had to say? The mud of her shoes drew patterns on their living room floor as they neared her bedroom and she wondered if her mother was actually going to use the chancla on her. Her body made contact with the carpeted floor of her room and her mother grabbed her face to make her look at her. She screamed at her face, about how she was a disgrace, a 'marimacho', a 'zorra' playing with the boys instead of being a 'señorita', she went on and on about the shame she brought to the family. She reminded her that no daughter of hers would do something like racing, wear the clothes she wore and go around covered in mud and filth like she did. But the girl just muted the rest of the screams, she just let her say whatever she wanted, because she was not going to stop her from chasing her dream. She had just met the best boys in the world and she was going to race those boys for the rest of her life. No matter what. She felt the chancla hit her back, but it didn't hurt her anymore, no when she knew that it was the price to pay for sneaking out to race. Her mother would change her mind one day, but for that day to come, she had to take it today. No. Matter. What.

She woke up to the sound of the front door closing. Max and Charles were probably back from the supermarket. She sighed as he got up from the couch, the feeling of the chancla still lingering on her skin. It was the worst, the rubber hitting on the same place, over and over again, but it was more hurtful to her pride. The humiliation that came with the beating, the screams, the words, the hate on her mother's eyes. She remembered that beating like it was yesterday, because it was the one that changed everything. It was the first time that, when she was finally left alone in her room, she wasn't scared anymore. That week she met Pierre and he introduced her to Max and Charles the very same day that her mother gave her that beating. Meeting the boys and winning a race against them gave her the push she needed to hold on to her dream and never let go. Her motto was born that day: 'No matter what'. She took it to heart, and kept pushing and pushing, she took as many more beatings as she had, but she kept sneaking out, even if her mother dropped the chancla to grab the wooden spoon from the kitchen, even if the skin of her hands was red and burning from the hard wood against it. She kept pushing, and she became world champion. A hand on her back brought her back to reality and she relaxed against Charles' hand once his scent made her aware of his presence.

"Which one was it?". He asked softly as he ran his hand up and down her back.

"The day we met". She admitted, Max placed the bags on the floor and walked up to them.

"It's okay, Schat, you're safe now". She smiled softly at them.

"I know. It's just that her birthday is in a few days". Charles nodded, understanding.

"You know you don't have to go if you don't want to, Amour". It was her turn to nod.

"I also know that. But she changed a lot over the years. I know that we still have out problems and that she's not a fan of our relationship, but I can see that she's trying". Max was a lot less forgiving, but he was also aware that he wasn't the one with the best record of family choices, he still visited his father.

"I agree that she seems to be trying, Amour, and I admire you a lot for being able to see that and be so forgiving. I still want you to put yourself above everything. Take care of yourself, because you're not any of those things she said. You're wonderful, and we are beyond proud of who you are, okay?". Charles placed his hand against her cheek and she snuggled against it. "We are so very proud, Amour".

Charles rubbed his nose with hers, making her giggle a little, and bringing a smile to Max's lips. It always worked, because if there was something that she needed was softness. It was something that her dad did, treat her with gentleness, with love and with trust. He always believed in her, even if he was so afraid of his wife and had to take even more beatings and insults than her. She didn't blame him, but she was sure that she would never make the same mistakes her dad made. So she looked for gentle men, men with nice words and tender touches, nothing like her mother, nothing like who her dad settled for. And she found Charles and Max, the embodiment of kindness, enough for her heart to skip a beat and her shoulders to relax under their touch. It felt good, being able to be loved, laughing on a daily basis, relying on them when she needed and giving herself the chance of being an open book, unafraid and never judged. A lonely tear fell down her cheek and Max caught it before it made it to her jaw, wiping it away with a swift movement of his thumb. It made her look at him, his blue eyes looking back at her with the same adoration they have been for the past decade. Her heart made a few jumps inside her chest. Max pressed his forehead gently against hers, making her close her eyes with him, the feeling of Charles' hand agains the skin of her back, where the burning of the chancla was just a bitter memory in the back of her mind. Max's lips barely touch hers.

"You're a dream come true".

Charles ran, his lungs burning as the air coming inside was not enough to keep his body moving. The fog around the graveyard and the darkness of the night made his heart race faster, the feeling of it threatening to jump out of his ribcage. He called their names into the silence of the dead, but he couldn't hear anything. Does sound really exist if there's no one to hear it? He passed gravestone after gravestone, the names of his family and friends written in each one of them. He cried, the tears blurring his vision as he desperately looked for their names. He didn't want to be alone, in the dark, in the cold, with the dead. The place seemed to never end, filled with all the people he loved but weren't there anymore, the air felt tight around his body, sour inside his mouth, painful coming into his lungs. He kept searching. What would he do if he couldn't find them? How could he keep on living if they weren't by his side? He couldn't be alone, he didn't want to. He needed them, he needed his friends, his family. He kept searching, because it was the only thing he could do, and as the names kept appearing he felt like his heart just couldn't take it anymore. He fell to his knees, two stones right in front of him. Suddenly, he couldn't breathe anymore, the feeling of his lungs contracting for air but nothing going in. There they were, the names he hoped to never see graved in stone, right in front of his eyes. Charles clawed at the grass, removed the dirt, he felt the cold and humid soil under his fingertips as clear as he felt the daggers inside his chest. He just wanted to pass out, to turn to dust right there so he could join them wherever they were, because no life was worth living without them. But he had had this nightmare before, so he knew, he knew that he was never going to pass out, because this was his biggest fear: living the rest of his life mourning his own.

He woke up alone in the hotel room bed, a halo of cold sweat around him and he inhaled as hard as he could to keep his lungs full. He felt a rush of calm run down his spine when he felt the air come in. He searched for the dirt under his fingernails, only to find them as clean as they were when he went to sleep last night. Getting up, he gave up the longest sigh as he gathered everything he needed to jump in the shower. He needed it, he needed to get rid of the stench of the graveyard that still lingered on his nose, the humidity of the air clenched to his skin, but mostly, he needed to wash away the feeling of loneliness that haunted him still. As the water ran down his body, cleansing him like a religious ritual taking away his sins, he felt the same tug in his heart as he did a few years back. The guilt of that feeling settled inside his belly, like a parasite eating him inside out. He remembered the fear of closeness, how he refused to accept that he loved Max and Y/N because he was terrified of ever losing them, how he had found solace in keeping a comfortable distance, how he convinced himself that he was content with loneliness. He refused to love someone because he knew that the grief is as great as the love you feel. But they found their way into his heart and now he couldn't kick them out. He was destined to suffer, to live in pain. To be alone. He heard movement outside the bathroom as he stepped out of the shower. He opened the door to find his partners changing the bedding. They knew that he hated to be alone in the hotel rooms, he ended up getting sick and tired of sleeping alone over the weekend.

"Which one was it, Poopie?". Max asked, even though the messy sheets and the shower were a big hint. He just wanted to be sure.

"The graveyard". He sat on the bed, the smell of clean sheets comforting against the odor of the humid dirt that he could still remember.

"We're still here, Charlie". She reassured him, her hand on his tight applying a little pressure to ground him there.

"But you'll leave". He replayed softly. She pressed her hand more, a little proof to his heart that they were there.

"Everyone leaves, Poopie, but that doesn't mean you'll be alone". Max sat by his side and ran his finger through his hair, a gesture that brought some warmth to his chest.

"You can't know that". The risk was just so much, too great. "The more I love you the more it'll hurt".

"We know that, because we love just as much, Charles". Max pulled him into a side hug, his head resting against the Dutchman's collarbones. "Loving is a risk and we are all afraid of taking that risk. But, I have known since I met you, that there's just one person that everyone is willing to take the risk for, and that person is you. You're the greatest man I know. Loyal, just, kind, hardworking, you are the epitome of greatness. It's impossible for someone like you to ever be alone".

It wasn't just the words, but how they reverberated inside Max's chest, in sync with his heartbeat that made Charles believe him. It was the warm feeling of Y/N's hand still on his tight. They were there, they were worth it, the fear, the pain. He would rather spend his life mourning them if it gave him the chance to have them for as long as Death allowed him. He was still a work in progress, but he was on his way to believing, trusting, risking. He felt Y/N moving to sit on his lap, her hands carefully adjusting the towel around his hips so it wouldn't loose. She pulled him away from Max and placed his head against her chest, her own heartbeat now strongly pumping against his face. It gave him peace of mind. The feeling of them there, Max's hand still on his hair, her soft hands on his face. They made him feel loved, they made him feel like there was hope in life, no matter how hard the road was. And he finally felt like he may be that special person Max told him he was. Maybe he was one of those people that'll never be alone. Maybe, just maybe, he didn't need to be so scared. Y/N pulled him away and pressed her lips to his forehead, erasing the frown that tinted his features. Maybe, he was the reason why they were willing to take the risk of loving, even if their whole lives they had only met pain and hurt. Maybe the risk was as great for them as it was for him, so maybe he was the one they risked it all for, even if they said they would never. Maybe, he was comfortable with loneliness, except when it came to them. And he knew, the moment she mumbled against him, that he was...

"You're the only exception".

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I hope you guys like this one. It's really hurt/comfort and I feel like it turned out great. Like, reblog and comment, like you guys always do. Much love!

[gay-dorito-dust]

May I please request any comfort fluff with Jiyan from Wuthering Waves if you're open to those requests?🙏😔 I need bro to comfort me

‘Are you okay?’

‘I’m sorry?’ You asked, looking up to see Jiyan stood over your seated form with conceding lacing his golden eyes.

‘Are you okay?’ He repeated, sitting down next to you, ‘you’ve been acting differently as of late and I feel as though there’s more to it than just a shift in personality.’

You chuckled humourlessly, the jig was up and you knew it but were too stubborn to accept help from anyone, especially from one who had more important matters at hand than your slight decline in mental health. ‘It’s nothing, honestly, I’m just a little-‘

‘Tired?’ Jiyan cuts you off and suddenly your throat felt drier than a desert and he must’ve known that he caught you in your one lie as he levels you with a stare, leaning slightly towards you. ‘How often have you used being tired as an excuse because people in your past have proven themselves ill equip with handling a difficult situation, despite saying false promises of being there for when life gets hard.’

‘Way too fucking often.’ You replied. ‘It’s like they were only in my life to take something from me, why? I’ll never know because they’re all gone and fucked off, like they didn’t just tore my souls to shreds snd left me to pick up the pieces.’ You concluded and it wasn’t until then did you realise that you had started to cry when Jiyan wordlessly wiped one away with his thumb.

You had let your guard slip, the one thing you’ve promised yourself to never do again in the presence of another person due to how they made it all about them; not to mention how they gone on about how suddenly they couldn’t handle your baggage before ghosting you completely whenever you tried to reach out to them again. You didn’t deserve that type of treatment and you know it, but you’ve less yourself to believe that their reaction will be how others would perceive your situation, and so you never bothered reaching out for help and instead letting it bottle up inside until you cracked.

‘I’m sorry.’ You gasped as you began to violently wipe away at your eyes when Jiyan held your wrists in his hand and brought them away from your face.

‘Don’t apologise,’ he started, ‘never apologise for your own emotions nor the people who’ve made you believe that others would turn a blind eye to your plan, for that is simply not true, but I understand that this is a hard mentality for one to unlearn after so long.’ Jiyan wasn’t well versed in comforting others, seeing as how he spent most of his life in the frontlines of the battlefield as both a medic and general, but that didn’t stop him from recognising that a misdeed had been committed against you and that he wouldn’t allow; So for you, jiyan would try his best to provide comfort that you needed.

‘Oh yeah? And who’s going to change that then you?’ You scoffed.

‘Yes.’ Jiyan answered without hesitation and a seriousness you’ve only ever seen in battle and that alone had you choke on your own words.

‘Why?’ You asked, looking into his eyes in hopes of getting the answer you wanted, you wanted to look for a lie within his eyes but his eyes only told you that he was being genuine with his words.

‘I want to prove that if there is one person who’s willing to shoulder your burdens with you, it’s me.’ He tells you. ‘I will not allow you to suffer alone during you’re in pain. So please, allow me to lend you aid in these difficult times.’

You stayed silent for a bit and Jiyan thought that he may have overstepped a boundary or two but his own worries were put to rest when you gripped onto his hand just as he was about to pull away. ‘If it’s not too much trouble for you.’

‘I wouldn’t have suggested such if it was, which it isn’t.’ Jiyan cuts you off softly.

‘Then I guess it couldn’t hurt.’ You said, slowly beginning to grow hope for this seemingly small promise.

[broshot]

Ooo can you also do Nanami and Sukuna for the near death reader? Loved the ones for Megumi and Gojo!

a/n: hello!! of course I can do that♡ thank you for the request! I'm just a hater when it comes to sukuna so I'll be making him the most ooc there is! (I've never really written stuff for these two so I hope they're not too bad) also I'm so so so sorry for writing this so late, I've had a big writing block recently so this isn't my best writing but I just needed to post this for you all

here's the one with megumi and gojo!

cw/tw: gn!reader, hurt w comfort (angst to fluff), hurt reader, mentions of death + blood, confession in sukuna's part, probs a bit (or very) ooc,

♡♡♡

nanami kento

he wasn't a person who talked about his feelings, and he definitely didn't show them. he was polite and professional, not so polite when he was fighting but that didn't matter. he always had the same blank and bored expression on his face, sometimes it turned into annoyed and angry but he never smiled or looked sad.

until he met you. he fell in love with you instantly, though he tried to convince himself that he definitely wasn't in love. he wanted to share his life with you, both his good and bad days.

you made him smile and laugh, you made him happy. he swears the day he confessed to you was his luckiest and happiest day and he never ever wanted to lose you. he swore he would protect you.

but his promise didn't seem very true anymore. you were sitting against a wall with your head in an uncomfortable position. he rushed over to you and tried to wake you up as you seemed to just be unconscious, probably fainted and nothing worse.

"can you hear me, sweetheart?" he asked, softly lifting your chin up. that's when he noticed the deep cut on your neck. it was bleeding a lot, how did he not notice all the blood before?

"wake up," he said, feeling the panic rush up faster and faster. you need to stay calm, he thought to himself but it wasn't really working.

his hands seemed to work on their own as he softly pressed a piece of cloth onto your wound, trying to stop the bleeding.

"what's up? I'm in a tight spot right now." he heard gojo's unusually serious voice on the other side of the phone. when had he called gojo?

"uh, I need help. (name)'s bleeding a lot. could you send someone over?" he couldn't recognize his own voice, it sounded distant and a bit too high to be his.

"I'll be over in a second," was all he heard gojo say before a familiar frame arrived right next to him.

---

you opened your eyes and quickly tried to get up. the fight was all you had in mind, you couldn't waste even a second, you had to be there.

but you were stopped by a huge wave of pain all over your body. your head was hurting and so was your neck, and you were suddenly aware of how sore all of your muscles were. you were laying in a bed, probably in a hospital somewhere. before you could even think about what happened yesterday that got you in this position, you noticed nanami sleeping on the chair next to you.

"honey?" you whispered and to your surprise, he immediately wake up.

"sweetheart. you're alive." he breathed out before rushing over to you. he pulled you close to his chest, softly wrapping his arms around your body.

"yeah, I was-" you started but a sound stopped your words. you heard a quiet sob from him. he was crying.

"I thought I lost you," he sobbed, his voice wobbly and weak.

you didn't say anything. you just hugged him back.

"I don't ever want to lose you, love, never," he continued. "if you die I'll never love anyone again. please don't leave me like that."

"I'll do my best to stay alive for you," you whispered. "I love you.

"I love you too. I'll make sure you're protected next time."

♡♡♡

sukuna

the king of curses shouldn't fear anything, right?

so why was he shaking from fear right now?

"I'm not scared, I'm just angry," he repeated for the nth time in his head. he could never be scared, really. but still, being scared was the only thing that felt acceptable for him right now. he was scared he'd lose you, the love of his life, all because he wasn't careful.

he had been practicing to control his cursed energy in different ways and had accidentally hit you with a huge energy boost. it didn't fully hit you, but it made a deep cut on the right side of your neck. and you were bleeding. you were bleeding a lot.

he stood next to you as you laid on the ground. he couldn't fully process what was happening, but soon enough his knees gave up and he fell down next to you.

curses are able to cry.

he had never cried before this, he never had any reasons to cry before this. but he was fully sobbing while looking down at your body. he could almost see the life bleeding out of you and he couldn't do anything about it.

then he remembered a thing or two.

---

you felt a stinging pain on your neck as you woke up. you groaned and tried to sit up, but you were quickly stopped by a pair of hands.

"sukuna?"

"(name), you're alive," you heard him say.

"yeah, why wouldn't I be?" you asked. he stayed quiet. "sukuna.. what happened?"

he sighed before explaining the situation fully. "I'm really sorry for that, I swear I didn't try to hit you and I didn't do it on purpose, I feel really bad about it and to think that I almost killed the only person I truly love, I'm such a disappointment," he rambled.

you were speechless. the fact that he almost killed you was shocking enough but on top of that he also loved you.

"I'm sorry, I don't know what took over me. I was just.. thinking out loud and I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable-" he kept rambling but you cut him off by placing your hand on his cheek. he looked up at you, clearly surprised by your action.

"relax, you didn't make me uncomfortable. and I forgive you for, you know, almost killing me. and I love you too."

"wait what? you.. do you really?" he asked, clearly not believing his ears.

"more than anything."

♡♡♡

this is WAY worse than the last one omg I'm so sorry AAAAAAAA anyways, recommend characters you want me to do this with (if you want to see more characters w this prompt)

you can also recommend other stuff for me to write! :D

masterlist is on my profile but I haven't updated it in a while

[dinogoofymutated]

Colossus/GN!Reader This is really self indulgent, but I wrote it in need of some comfort and wanted to post it before I went to bed so I could see everyone's nice comments and reblogs tomorrow as a nice wake up thing before i go to work :) TW: sadness, hopelesness, Reader really needs a hug and someone to talk to but feels like no one will listen. Big strong Piotr saves the day again.

    Despite what some would think, It's hard to find comfort at Xavier’s school, especially as a teacher. 

    The students had many resources, counselors, and trusted adults (including you) to talk to. Meanwhile, when you need comfort on the other hand, it's hard to find someone to talk to. Everyone was just… going through their own problems. Every time you turn a corner it seemed like every other person had something new or old bothering them, and you didn't want to impose. They don't need to be burdened with your issues right now. 

    Even then, you know thats not true. That none of them would be burdened and most would actually prefer you tell them instead of keeping it in, but you just… couldn't. You were tired, and sad, and to be honest, you didn't know what to do.

    Piotr is in the garden when you first see him today. He's got some young mutants hanging off of his arms and crawling all over him, and the sight makes you smile a bit. Right before it comes to a screeching halt. One of the young mutants trips and hurts herself, starting to cry at the pain and shock of the fall. You start to get up but Piotr seems to have it handled.

    He tuts at her softly, telling her that a skinned knee is no reason to cry. He tells her that she is strong, and that she will be just fine. When her tears dry up, she asks for a hug. Piotr obliges, picking her up and wrapping her in a big, sturdy, comforting hug. It looks… warm, and filled with love.

    You think about that hug all day.

    Every time you pass him in the hall, or wave at him, or say hello, you think about that hug. You catch a glimpse of his strong arms, lifting or stretching to reach something, and you think about how they would feel wrapped around you. How secure and nice it would be to be hugged like that.

    You think about it even more as the two of you wash the dishes after dinner. If he noticed something was up, he hadn't said anything, so you assume he doesn't notice the change in your demeanor. You make small talk, and hand him the items that go on the shelves you can't quite reach, looking at his big, strong arms and still being unable to shake the thoughts. 

    You grab him by the sleeve before he turns to go for the night.

   “Hey Piotr?” You ask, softly. He looks down at you with a concerned look on his face,.and places a large hand on your shoulder.

    “Is there something wrong, Пчелка ?” He asks. You open and close your mouth a few times, eyes beginning to blur with tears at your waterline. After a long few moments, you give up, instead choosing to slip your arms around his middle and hug him tightly. 

    Piotr cocks his head, but doesn’t say anything. He wraps his arms around you firmly, but not to tightly. He pulls you closer as much as he can, and lifts you into his arms so that he can fully wrap you in a bear hug. He presses his face into your hair, saying nothing as you begin to cry, and then slowly relax into his arms as you hiccup, and your tears begin to dry.

    “...thanks Piotr.” You whisper after a long moment. He hums, and you swear you feel him press a kiss to your temple.

    “You're welcome. You will not hesitate to find me if you need anything from me again, yes?” He rumbles, and you laugh just a little. 

    “I won't.”

[genshin-obsessed]

Hey there! Nice to meet ya! Could I request Kaeya, Diluc, Childe, and Wriothesley's s/o crying when she sees how bloody, battered and bruised they are?

Howdy! Nice to meet you as well! Thank you for the request, I hope you like it ^w^

Your boyfriend wasn't entirely reckless, but there were times when you wondered if he tried hard enough to... you know, not get hit? Normally, you're the one patching him up, and for the little wounds, you manage. But the days he comes back looking like he barely escaped with his life, you can't help but feel that deep seated fear reeling it's ugly head to remind you of the awful reality that one day, he may not come back.

Those are the hardest days for you.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

Kaeya

"Ow- hey, gentle." Kaeya said with a soft hiss as he felt the rushing pain through his wound, making the other parts of his arm hurt.

"Oh? Can't handle that?" You asked with a slightly frustrated tone as you kept cleaning the wound, not being much gentler. Kaeya frowned and let out a soft sigh as he turned to look at you. He was silent for a moment as he studied you- you looked angry but he could see you biting your bottom lip a little to keep it from trembling. Not to mention the excessive blinking to keep those tears back.

"I'm... ok, (y/n). I promise. It's just a small scratch. It doesn't even hurt that bad, I was just joki-"

"Stop lying to me." You said sternly, your hand pausing as your gaze met his. You could see the guilt lingering within. "I know it hurts. I know you were scared. I know... so stop lying." Kaeya reached up with his calloused hands and gently took yours.

"I'm sorry. I know I tend to worry you a lot. I'm really sorry." He murmured honestly, watching as your defenses broke and the tears filled your eyes. "Don't cry- please, don't cry." He said with a frown as he hugged you against him tightly. Blood slowly trickled down his arm but he didn't care. At the end of the day, it really didn't hurt that bad because you were taking care of him. But he did vow to be much more careful, seeing the toll it was taking on you.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

Diluc

Diluc sat there silently as you cleaned up the wounds. He didn't say a word or even flinch. You were just as silent, soft sighs escaping you when you turned away from him. He didn't say anything, but he definitely heard them. Once you finished up, you turned away from him, gathering the bloodied towels and tissues that lay around you two.

It was odd. Usually, the second he'd come through the door, you'd begin to scold him and the entire time you cleaned and dressed every single wound, even that tiny scratch that wasn't bleeding, your scolding never stopped. But tonight, you didn't say a single word. Not only that, but you avoided meeting his eyes which just sent a wave of discontent through him.

He waited and waited and waited, but you never spoke. As his crimson eyes watched you gather the cotton and tissues, he finally found his voice and called out.

"I'm... sorry."

"You're always sorry." You replied after a moment of hesitation. That was true. Diluc often got injured and would really just have an apology to give you. No assurances or anything. None that mattered anyway. Before you could leave, his arm shot out and he caught your wrist. Ever so gently, he pulled you back to him, turning your head so that you were looking at him.

"I know. I know, I don't have much other than a sorry to give you. But... I need to know if you're ok. I can tell when you're upset and I know you may not want to talk to me right now. But-" before Diluc could finish his sentence, you broke down. Tears filled your eyes and streamed down your cheeks and you fell against him. Without hesitation- without a word- his arms engulfed you in a warm embrace. So, you weren't ok and he could tell, he wasn't an idiot. But when you sighed and said you were fine, it brought him some form of comfort. But this? This was more painful than any wound on his body.

After that night, you saw less and less unnecessary wounds on him.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

Childe

His bruises and bloodied wounds almost always started some sort of argument between you two. You just never understood why he was so careless. Fine, whatever, he liked fighting. But why was he always getting hurt? Not only did he get hurt, sometimes it was bad. Stitches bad.

"You keep frowning like that and your face is gonna get stuck like that." He joked, only for you to glare in his direction. He always did that, he always trivialized the worry you felt for him as if it was unnecessary.

"I'm not a kid, stop it. You know this worries me. Why do you always end up this badly hurt?" Childe actually kept a lot hidden from you, especially when it came to his work as a Fatui. It's not that he didn't trust you- no way. It was just safer for you to not know about his work. Having knowledge was already dangerous, so he just... lied.

"Listen," he began softly as he grabbed your working hand, making that frown on your face deepen. "You're right, ok? I should be more careful and sometimes I'm not. But please don't be too angry with me. Not for my sake, but your own. I don't want you to be sad all night."

"Look at you, Ajax," you said, your voice beginning to shake with the emotions you were so desperately trying to contain. "Look at yourself and t-tell me how I'm n-not supposed to be sad." The tears filled your eyes and when you attempted to blink them back, they just spilled. Childe didn't speak. He just pulled you against him, holding you tightly.

"They're just surface wounds, love. I swear to you- with everything that I am- no one is ever going to take me away from you. I'll always come home to you." And he kept that promise. He was a lot more careful though, doing his best to avoid frivolous fights. It was definitely a big change for him, but your tears that night, they hurt more than any wound he'd ever sustained.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

Wriothesley

“It’s not that bad.” Wriothesley said as his gaze remained focused on your face. “It barely hurts, really. Can’t even feel it. I guess I’m just strong— Ack!”

You didn’t say a word, your eyes just shot up to Wriothesley who just sheepishly chuckled. Your silence was just the worst. He’d rather you yell at him, throw things at him, insult him— whatever. Just don’t stay quiet. Not that you've ever resorted to any of those, but he finds anger more manageable than silence.

“Come on, I’m ok. It hurts a little but what wound doesn’t? I really am fine.” He sighed after a moment and leaned back in the chair when you once again refused to speak or even look at him. He knew and understood why you were so upset with him. But it’s not like he could’ve helped it. He got into fights, he had to sometimes. If he backed down, he’d lose respect. It’s not like he fights every meathead out there, he just needs to teach certain people lessons. Doesn’t mean they won’t hit him back.

A small sniffle from you made his icy blue eyes shoot to you. They slowly widened as he felt a small droplet land on his arm.

“Hey, come on, don’t cry. I’m fine. I swear.” He said as he sat right back up and tried to grab your face. You brushed his hand away and kept cleaning the wound before he grabbed your wrist. “(Y/n), please look at me.” He murmured, finally making you stop.

“I don’t care if it doesn’t hurt you, it hurts me.” You didn’t have to say much after that as Wriothesley engulfed you into a tight hug.

It put things into perspective, that one little sentence. Those last three words. There was a drastic shift in his behavior after that day. He was more careful and avoided fights unless it was necessary. Even then, he’d try to push back. Did people question him after that? Of course they did, but Wriothesley only fought those who really required it.

[thoughtsofedin]

Unravel Me

ᴅɪᴇɢᴏ ʜᴀʀɢʀᴇᴇᴠᴇꜱ/ʜᴀʀɢʀᴇᴇᴠᴇꜱ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ᴡʜʏ, ᴍʏ ʟᴏᴠᴇ, ɪꜱ ɪᴛ ꜱᴏ ᴇᴀꜱʏ ꜰᴏʀ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛᴏ ʙʀɪɴɢ ᴍᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴛᴇᴀʀꜱ?

ᴛᴀɢꜱ: Angst, Smut, Open Ending, Emotional manipulation.

Minors do not interact.

There's a cut on Diego's lip when he sits down next to you and orders a drink. He's seething, anger radiating off of him in waves that you can physically feel. The bartender ignores him, paying more attention to the older blonde woman to your left and you can tell that it irritates him more. For a second, the world around you shifts and changes and you can see Diego reach over the bar and grab the bartender by the collar of his shirt, slamming his head into the wood.

"Don't," you say with a warning, blinking the future away and sliding your drink over to him. "It doesn't end well." you warn him, the sight of Diego with a bullet wound in his shoulder already fading away as he takes your drink- a sour cherry gin- and finishes it in one go.

"You gotta stop doing that shit, Eight." he sounds annoyed, the alcohol momentarily roughening his voice.

"I don't do it on purpose." you tell him for the millionth time. And its true. You've never really spent your time looking for the future, it just came to you whenever it wanted.

"Whatever."

You scoff at his attitude, growing annoyed that he was trying to take his anger out on you. "You and Lila fight again? Is that why you're here, pouting?"

"I'm not fucking pouting!" he hisses, and you shift in your seat, the glass he accidentally hit missing you as it tumbles to the ground and shatters by your feet, watered down vodka wetting your shoes.

"What did you do this time?" you ask, ignoring his outburst. "I thought things were getting better."

"I," he starts, his voice guttural "Didn't fucking do anything."

"Then why are you so mad?"

He takes a second to answer, running his hand through his hair and tugging at the short strands. He looked miserable. Like someone had stolen his favorite toy or something. "Diego...?" you press, annoyance shifting into worry.

"Stanley's not my kid." There's a pain to his voice that makes it sound as if he was trying to speak underwater or if he was holding back the need to cry. "Lila lied."

"Shit," you say, turning to look at him. "Diego, I'm so sorry." gently you reach for his hand, wrapping your fingers around his knuckles and giving them a squeeze. It might have taken him a minute to settle into his role as a father, but he had done so. Happily. With an excitement you had never seen in him before.

Lila was horrible for lying to him. For manipulating him like this. "Why the hell did she do that?" you ask, squeezing his hand once again.

Diego pulls his hand away from yours, once more tugging on his hair. "She's fucking crazy? I don't fucking know."

The man behind the bar finally slides his drinks towards him and Diego wastes no time in throwing them back, ordering more. You do the same, knowing that right now wasn't the time to tell him that maybe he shouldn't drink his problems away.

"Do you want me to go talk to her?" you ask and he scoffs.

"And say what?' he reaches across you, grabbing your drink as soon as its placed in front of you and tosses the straw aside. "I got it. I don't need your help."

As he brings the glass to his lips the world becomes a haze, your vision blurring and shifting until you see Diego passed out on the staircase. There's a bottle of tequila broken on the stairs, glass embedded in his hand. Lila finds him, and she's screaming at him. You can't really focus on what she's saying, the sound muffled. Diego startles awake, and he accidentally kicks Lila.

You close your eyes as her head hits a stair, flinching at the noise.

"Stop drinking." you groan out, digging the heels of your hands into your eyes. It doesn't do anything to stop the vision from playing over and over in your mind. "Please." you add, hearing his voice in your head. You might not like the woman but you didn't want her dead. Most of all, you didn't want Diego to deal with that kind of pain.

"Stop looking into my future." Even though he sounds angry, he sets the glass down, listening to you.

"Trust me, I want to. You think I like seeing these things?" you bite back, the vision already fading. "Yours just happens to be so strong." You snatch the glass and take a sip, swishing the bitter alcohol around your tongue before you swallow.

"What did you see?" he asks.

"You being a fucking idiot."

"Jesus!" he shouts, slamming his hands on the table. "Don't I have enough going on already? Cut me a fucking break."

With a sigh you apologize. "You're right. I'm sorry... Are you doing okay?"

Diego shrugs, looking down at the glass. There's a moment of silence where you wonder if perhaps you should leave him alone and stop trying to look for answers when he clearly didn't want to talk about any of this, but he sighs, straightening up before taking your drink from your hand and nursing it in his own. His fingers had brushed against your knuckles, his skin rough, calloused and warm. He looks at the Cherry Sour, swirling it in the cup almost as if he's contemplating whether or not to heed your cryptic warning.

"No." he mumbles before bringing it to his lips.

That future with Lila dead on the stairs doesn't reappear so you don't snatch it back. He needed the drink more than you right now, anyways. "No?" you press for more.

"No. I'm not okay. I-I," he swallows his stutter, clenching his jaw before exhaling loudly. "Part of me wanted this to happen, you know? I can't be a fucking dad, just look at me." He motions to himself with his hand. "I'm not exactly cut out for it."

"That's not true." you say quietly. "I think you're a great dad."

Diego scoffs, sipping at the drink. "No I'm not."

You reach for his free hand, taking it in yours and making him look at you. "Lila might have lied about Stan, but Diego, you stepped up. You treated that kid like he was your own flesh and blood. Everyone else saw it. You were a good father and when we solve this whole Kugelblitz disaster you're going to have another chance to show that to yourself." You squeeze his hand, running your thumb across his knuckles. "You don't have to be so scared that you're going to turn out like dad. He didn't care about us... not like you cared about Stan."

You smile at Diego, once again squeezing his hand.

He looked like he was seconds away from crying, but he finishes the drink, blinking away all emotional distress from his face. "Thanks..." he says so quietly that you almost miss it. "I didn't think I needed to hear that."

You shrug, finally letting go of him. "You don't have to thank me."

Besides you, Diego sets the empty glass down and once again runs his hand through his hair. "I," he pauses, meeting your eyes. "I was so happy- having a kid, being with Lila... It was like all this time I was missing something I didn't know I wanted so badly. But she ripped it away from me and I don't know if I'm angry or relieved or-." he groans, shaking his head. "I think I probably would have done something stupid if you hadn't been here."

You smile at him, trying to lighten the mood "You still have time. Don't let me stop you from achieving all that you can."

His laugh is light as he shakes his head. "I think I'm good for now but thanks for the vote of confidence."

You try not to focus on the warmth that spreads through you at the sound of his laugh, your smile growing a bit. "Are you doing better?"

He lifts his shoulders, dropping them dramatically. "I'll be fine." He seems to have caught you looking at the glass in front of him that he played with, slowly running his index finger across the rim. Stopping and pulling his hand away, he makes a noise that has you looking back at his face. "You don't gotta worry. I'm not drinking anymore."

"You sure?"

"Look, whatever you saw definitely scared the shit out of you. I'll listen to you this time." As if to prove a point, he waved over the bartender and asked to close out your tab. "Anyways, I don't think alcohol is going to do anything to help."

You watch as he pulls out his wallet and nod. "Thanks, Diego."

"Whatever. It's not that expensive."

You roll your eyes, deciding not to tell him that you were thanking him for listening and preventing a horrible future from becoming a reality. "If you're all finished with me, I'm going to go find Five then. See what new idea he's come up with."

As you begin to stand up, you feel Diego's hand close around your wrist, holding you still. "Wait," he says as you freeze and look at his face. His brows are knitted together, something in his brown eyes that you can't exactly read.

"Wait?" you repeat, hoping to get more out of him.

"I won't drink... but can you stay with me? Just a little longer?" Diego's voice is unnaturally gentle, sad. "We don't have to stay in the bar. I just..." He doesn't finish.

But you don't need him to, you could see the fear in his eyes. The loneliness. He doesn't want to be alone with his thoughts, with his emotions. You wondered if he knew that the hand that held you was trembling.

Five could wait, you decided, smiling lightly at Diego. "Want to go up to the roof?"

Diego hadn't meant to sound so pathetic when he asked you to stay with him. But he did, and it aggravated him even more. He should have been relieved when Lila had told him the truth. He didn't want a damn kid, he never had and swore that he never would. So why was it that he felt so empty? The bond that he swore had been there between Stanley and him gone, a fragment of his imagination.

He had trusted Lila, even though from the first time they had met she had done nothing but lie to him. Of course she would have lied about this, he should have been smart enough to know that this was another one of her stupid games.

He lets go of your hand, wishing that he had finished that drink before the bartender had taken it away. Sure it tasted like shit, all watered down from the ice, but it was the easiest way to stop thinking. But he promised you that he was done, he wasn't about to go back on that.

"Come on," you say, keeping him grounded here, in the real world, instead of in his thoughts were no matter how hard he tried to stop, things just kept circling back to Lila and Stanley.

Diego stands and follows you to the elevator, where you're both quiet. Part of him wants to tell you that he's changed his mind, that he wants to be alone. But that part is a liar. He doesn't want you to leave. To leave him alone. He doesn't want you to be another person that leaves him.

"You do that a lot, why?" you ask, leaning against the wall of the elevator.

"Do what?" he asks, confused.

"The whole-" you lift your hand and run it through your hair, pushing it away from your face. "Running your hand through your hair thing."

He hadn't realize that he did that so often that it was noticeable. "It's a bad habit." he does it again, this time to make sure that his hair wasn't a mess. He didn't want to look like shit just because he was feeling it. "I don't really know why I do it."

"It's not good to mess with your hair like that. You're going to end up bald."

For a second, he panics, wondering if perhaps you had another of your visions. "Is that like a sure thing? Did you see it in the future?" He didn't want to be bald. He had shaved his head for the police academy and it did not look good at all.

There's a single pause where you look at him like you were going to tell him something bad but then you laugh, shaking your head. "You should see your face!" you curl into yourself, and he frowns, relieved but annoyed. "I didn't see anything, I was just messing with you."

He scoffs, but you only laugh harder and he finds that he can't stay mad. Not when its so contagious and he finds his lips curling upwards a bit. "Funny." he says sarcastically, pushing himself from the wall the moment the elevator slows to a stop on the last floor.

"You're not mad, are you?" you ask from behind him following him as he walks to the emergency staircase and pushes the door open.

"No. Come on, before the alarm goes off." he grabs you by upper arm and pulls you into the stairway, following you and pulling the door close behind him. He finds himself stuck between the door and you, his fingers still wrapped around your bicep, your face near his.

Maybe it's the alcohol, or the anger that still refuses to leave him, but for a split second he sees Lila in your place and all the progress he has done disappears down the drain. He lets go of you, bringing his hands to his head and running them down the shaved sides.

"Diego?" You speak his name so softly that he chuckles humorlessly. He wasn't used to soft. To the gentleness that you were offering him. He knew biting words and screaming fights that went unresolved until it got too heavy to bear and instead of fixing the issue, he left. Or they left.

"Can I ask you for a favor, Eight?" He opens his eyes, finding yours looking at him with worry. The handle of the door was biting into his lower back painfully but he didn't have the strength to move. To care, honestly. "Can you check and see what the future is like?"

Does he give Lila another chance only for it to bite him in the ass? Does he have kids of his own? Is he kind to them? Do they like him? Or is he a spitting image of Reginald Hargreeves, treating his children like commodities instead of people?

Your eyes soften, and he doesn't like how sad you suddenly look, your brows pushed together as the corner of your mouth twitches. He knows what you're going to say. That you couldn't do that. That the future was too finicky for you to get straight answers.

"Nothing good comes from chasing the future, Diego. Trust me."

"Please." he presses, even though he knows that you're right. "At least tell me there's going to be a day when I don't hurt so badly anymore." his voice cracks at the end, and he has to look away from you to keep from crying, his eyes trailing the textured off white ceiling.

He feels you wrap your arms around him, and instinctually he wants to push you away, stiffening as you hold him. Diego wants to yell and shout and tell you to get the fuck off him, but you squeeze him, arms around his in an awkward embrace, and his anger shatters. His breath comes out shaky, his vision blurs and his arms lift and push yours out of the way so that he could hug you back.

His tears fall silently as you hold him, his face finding the hollow of your neck as he pulls you closer to him. He doesn't say a word, holding you tightly as he lets himself cry. You stroke his back, the same way Grace used to do for him and he breaks again, his inhale loud and broken against your skin.

"It's okay, Diego." you whisper so close to his ear. "You're okay."

You don't seem to care that he's trembling, that your skin is wet with his tears, that he's dug his nails into your shirt so hard that he's afraid that he's ripped the fabric and broken your skin. You just hold him, soothing his back.

Did you know this was going to happen? Had you seen it already? Is that why you knew what to do, what to say? He wants to ask you but he can't find the will to come down, let alone his voice. He pulls you closer, his hand finding your lower back.

"It's okay," you repeat, your hand sliding from between his shoulder blades to the nape of his neck.

The pain inside of him, the one that he had been trying to deny existed from the moment Lila had told him the truth grows and grows until its all that he can feel, his knees bucking underneath him.

For a moment, even with the threat of doom hanging over his head, he had been happy. He had a son, a woman who loved him, a family he could take care of and protect and show that he was just as deserving as anyone else. Only for it all to be taken away from him.

You don't say anything as his breathing begins to even out and he finds that he can't cry anymore. He's thankful for that, partially horrified at not only having broken down so intensely but in front of you, no less. If you opened your mouth and said something he was worried that in his shame he'd snap and bite at you like a feral dog.

He loosens his hold on you, shifting his head so that his forehead rests against your shoulder, the familiar ache of a headache forming behind his eyes. You're still rubbing soothing circles on his neck, one hand planted firmly on his back. He doesn't want to pull back. Doesn't want to see the inevitable pity he's bound to find in your eyes.

He's nothing short of pathetic right now. But maybe he's always been pathetic. Look at him, crying over a something as mediocre as a lie.

"Sorry," he says against the tissue of your shirt. "Just..." he wants to warn you about what would happen if you tell another soul but he doesn't have the strength. "Just give me a moment."

Your fingers are light as they run along the length of his neck, your head brushing against his as you nod. "Let's sit down." you suggest quietly and pull away from him. At first he doesn't want you to move, his arms holding you still until he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, willing himself to let you go. His arms slowly move from around you and fall limp at his sides as he straightens up,.

He lets you lead him towards the stairs, sitting beside you when you pat the space. He can't look at your face, worried that he'll find something there he wont like. Instead he keeps his eyes on his hands, his shoes, the concrete of the stairs.

"I'm sorry." he repeats into the silence that's spread between them. Now that he has a clear mind, he's suddenly repulsed by his actions. Clinging and crying on you like that was embarrassing to say the least.

When your hand finds his, your fingers intertwining with his own before you pull it towards your lap, he almost pulls away reflexively. But you hold on tight and he doesn't have the strength to fight. "How are you feeling?" you ask, ignoring his apology and he's thankful for that.

"Like I've been split in half." he says honestly, his eyes moving from the stair to your intertwined hands. It felt nice, having you hold him, the warmth of your skin seeping into his. "It's a shit feeling."

You squeeze his hand. "Yeah," you whisper. "I know."

For a moment, the silence returns and it's not heavy and choking for once. It's pleasant, welcomed after everything. Diego doesn't find himself slipping into his thoughts in it, instead he focuses on the barely there sound of your breathing. His own slowly beginning to match yours.

Sitting here next to you, he felt as if the world around him began to crumble and end, he wouldn't have felt a single thing but relief, glad that it was you he spent his last moment's with.

Diego turns and looks at you and maybe its due to all his emotions running wild inside of him, or the fact that for some reason the world always looked clearer after crying, but he feels like he's looking at you for the very first time. His eyes linger on the curve of your nose, the slight downward curl your lips took on when you thought about something. He trails the curve of your neck, your collar still damp with his tears. He could still feel the warmth you had radiated there. Could still smell the almost floral, clean smell that perfumed your skin, that had filled his lungs.

You had your eyes closed, head tilted against the metal railing but he knew that you weren't asleep. Were you here with him in this very moment? Or had you slipped into the future once more, living something that he hadn't yet? He squeezes your hand, pulling it towards him and you blink and open your eyes, turning to look at him with that hazy look that came from being in two places at once.

"What did you see?" he asks, voice low. He wondered if what he wanted to do and what you saw were the same thing, or had the future already changed for you? For him?

"I..." you trail off as he leans in, his fingers softly tracing the curve of your cheek until he's cupping your face. He shifts his body towards you, the space between you both closing. He glances down at your lips and he felt himself lick his own.

He watches as you close your eyes and lean into his touch and that's all it takes for him to break what little distance there is between his mouth and yours, kissing you.

At first, its soft and gentle and he plans on pulling away but you let out a small whimper, lips parting just the slightest and he groans and deepens it, fingers digging into your scalp.

His lips guide yours, the kiss harsh as he buries himself in the sensation, in the warmth of your mouth, the softness of your lips. He can taste the salt of his tears in the kiss and it mingles with the sweetness of your mouth, his tongue tracing the length of your lower lip before it slipped inside of your mouth.

Your response is immediate, your lips parting to welcome him, inviting him into the depths of your being. His heart races at the intimacy of the gesture, at the way you respond to him with such fervor. It's a heady sensation, the feeling of being wanted and needed so desperately.

His hand wanders down the curve of your neck, over your shoulder, down your arm. He wants to feel you, to sink into you and forget the world around him. He finds himself tugging at the hem of your shirt, swallowing your moan.

Reluctantly, he pulls back, opening his eyes to find you flushed and panting, your lips dark and swollen. "Come here," he says, his voice guttural as he pats his lap, his cock swollen underneath his hand. He wanted you on top of him as he explored every inch of your body.

"Diego," the sound of your voice, choking around his name has his cock lurching in his jeans. "I can't." you say and suddenly he's brought back down to reality, the fog that had clouded his mind beginning to clear.

Maybe he should be disgusted with his actions, throwing himself at you because in his mind he'd twisted his sadness into arousal. But instead of feeling any sort or remorse or need to apologize, frustration bubbled up in his throat until he said the only thing that he could. "Why?" What was stopping you?

The question seemed to catch you off guard and you frown and open your mouth but struggle to find the words so Diego decides to help, moving until he's kneeling between your legs, his lips once more on yours. This time, the kiss is a plea, sweet and slow and eager.

He wants you, his lips trailing down to your neck and back up to your jaw, hungry and desperate for an answer. "Tell me." he groans against your skin, pulling you closer to him by your hips. Every touch he placed upon your skin made you shiver, he could feel it. You wanted this as much as he did so why were you so keen on pushing him away.

He nips at your neck and you let out a whine, squeezing him with your thighs.

"This means something different to me." you finally say, so quiet that he almost misses it, his mind focused on the taste of your skin. He pulls back slightly, looking at you through hooded eyes. You looked so torn, as if you were enjoying his ministrations while at the same time telling yourself that this wasn't right.

He feels his heart sink at the same time that his cock twitches and begs for you. He knew what you meant. He could see it in your eyes, could feel it under your skin, conflict raging hot under his touch. He knew that he had to stop, that he needed to stand up and leave but he didn't want to. You were so sweet, so kind, so soft.

Unlike Lila, unlike anything he had ever experienced. Where Lila bit and scratched until he was full of wounds and pain and anger, you soothed and kissed and filled him with an intoxication that he wanted to drown in. He brings your hand to his mouth, turning it until he's kissing your wrist, your heart beating against his lips. "Then show me, Eight." he begs, his voice a desperate plea. "Show me what it means to you."

It was selfish and wrong and maybe after it was all over, he'd come to regret it. But right now he wanted you. Wanted to sink into you, into your warmth. He needed to feel wanted. To feel anything but the anguish that had settled in his bones. He wanted to forget and you offered him the perfect opportunity to do so. "Please."

You kiss him and he stops thinking. Your lips are on his, your hands pushing his arms out of the way, struggling with the buttons on his shirt. Your breath comes out ragged against his lips as he helps you undo his holster, letting it drop to the ground as your mouth finds his neck. Your tongue is hot against his flesh, your teeth grazing the skin there before you lift your head and kiss him again.

You were so gentle even though he didn't deserve it.

His shirt falls to the ground, your hand tracing his chest, the scars that litter his body. It rests against his abdomen, slowly inching lower and lower until you're squeezing his cock through his jeans and he lets out a low moan.

Diego lets you tease him, tossing his head back as you stroke and squeeze him, your mouth on his Adam's apple. He groans, whispers your name and you undo his belt, his button, his zipper. He feels your hand slip inside his boxers, flesh against flesh, your thumb against the tip of his cock, wet with precum. You drag it down his length and he shivers, sinking his fingers into your waist when you close your fingers around the base and slowly begin to stroke him.

He wishes he had taken you to a room. He wanted to lay you down and taste your cunt. He wanted you to cum on his tongue, your hands in his hair, his name on your lips.

You twist your fist around the head of his cock and his thoughts shatter, his mouth once more on your neck, kissing and panting, laving at the skin there with his tongue.

"On top," he growls, pushing your hand from his cock and picking you up so that he can switch positions with you. He moves until he's the one sitting on a step and you're straddling his hips, fingers digging into his shoulders.

"You're so beautiful," he groans lifting his hips until his cock connects with your cunt, the fabric of your pants soft as he helps you roll your hips against him. You whimper and he wastes no time in kissing you, tasting your desire.

You moan his name against his lips and warmth pools in his belly, filling his veins. "Lean back, " he tells you and you obediently do as told.

He wanted to devour you whole, but settles on quickly pulling your shirt off of you, tossing it towards the door. His lips find your collarbone and he kisses and nips at the skin there, his cock running along the length of your clothed cunt.

His lips trail lower and lower, one arm keeping you from falling, the other one finds the clasp of your bra. Easily he undoes it and it joins your shirt on the floor.

His mouth is on your nipple, suckling and licking it until its hard and you're moaning his name, pulling him closer. Gently he bites down on it, the salty taste of your sweat making him groan and reach for his cock.

"Diego!" you shout, voice reverberating in the empty staircase. He's switched to your other nipple, stroking himself in tandem to your moans.

"Get up," he struggles to talk, letting your nipple slip from his mouth. "I want my cock in you."

You blink a few times, letting him help you to your feet, his hands wasting no time in pulling them down alongside your underwear. Sitting down, he's almost face level with your cunt and he's tempted to have you put a leg on his shoulder so he could taste you, his fingers stroking the neat patch of hair between your legs. He tells himself that next time, he will.

"Come here," he whispers, leaning back. He wraps his fingers around the base of his cock and holds it towards you. "Come ride me, baby girl." He squeezes, a drop of precum welling at the tip before it rolls down the underside of his cock, gathering between his fingers.

You place your hands on his shoulder, slowly kneeling on the step as you toss your other leg over his hips. You're flushed, panting, brows knitted together and before you can straddle him fully, his hand is on your face, holding your cheek.

He knows that its unfair to you. That this would hurt you more than him, but for once in a very long time, Diego felt at peace. The repercussions didn't matter. Not right now, at least.

He leans into you and kisses you. His lips soft, tender. This kiss is slower that the others, careful. He pulls back and looks at you, you're face twisted as if you were on the edge of crying.

"I love you," you finally admit out loud and his heart breaks and forms back together all at once, inhaling sharply from the pain. Your voice trembles as you reach for his cock and hold it against your cunt, slowly easing down on it. "I love you, Diego." you repeat, milking him as you take the first inch. His mouth falls slack, groaning from deep in his chest at the feeling of you around him, his eyes still on yours. He can't look away. He has to look. Has to remember everything about this moment.

You're hot and wet and so, so fucking tight around his cock, your walls clenching and unclenching as you take another inch, gasping for a breath.

"I love you." you keep saying, digging the knife deeper into his chest.

"I know." he finally answers, leaning his head on your shoulder as you bottom out, the tip of his cock tightly nuzzled in your cunt. It feels like heaven, like the last two pieces in a puzzle. His fingers dance along your curved spine, making you shiver and squeeze him even harder.

He wishes he could say it back, rocking his hips as he moves inside of you, pulling out and pushing back in. He wishes that it had been you, not Lila that he had fallen in love with as you wrap your arms around him and gasp as he keeps a steady, languid rhythm.

Diego kisses your shoulder as you match his pace with your hips, nails sinking into his back. He wishes that time would stop and it'd be you and him, trapped here forever.

"Perdoname," he whispers against your skin, pushing his cock deeper into you, knocking the breath from your lungs. He repeats his apology, picking up his pace and trailing kisses up your neck.

"I love you," you cry out, gently pushing him away as you bounce your hips, matching his pace. You take his hand and place it over your heart, riding him as he slows and feels how hard it beats under his palm. "I've always loved you, Diego. My heart has always been yours." you're breathless as you talk, taking every inch of him.

"I wish things were different," he whispers, voice barely audible over the sound of your ragged breaths. And part of him truly, honestly wishes that it was.

He can almost feel your heart breaking, digging his fingers into your hips and holding you still as he begins to fuck you desperately, your name falling from his lips as you grow tighter, wetter.

Did you see this moment coming? Or in your eyes had the future been different? Was there a world out there, where he did not break your heart? Diego looks into your eyes, finds the pain and anguish there that he had selfishly caused and he cups your face in his hands. "En otra vida," he speaks quietly, too scared to say it in english. "Yo te prometo que soy tuyo."

You let out a muddled whimper, your rocking growing frantic as you get closer to your orgasm, tears welling in your eyes. "Do you promise?" you choke out and Diego nods, kissing you.

His lips ask you for forgiveness for hurting you just because he was hurting. They move in tandem with yours, sweet and painful at the same time, the pressure in his cock growing and growing as you bounce harder and harder, squeezing him until he lets out a growl and bites down on your lip.

You come first. His mouth is still on yours, the kiss turning into something sloppy and dirty as you moan his name and unravel on top of him, pussy tightening around his cock with such strength that for a moment he doesn't hear or see anything, the world around him turning into a white haze.

When his senses come back, you're chanting his name, twitching and rocking against him, coming down from your high.

"One more," he pleads, smoothing your hair away from your face. "Come around my cock one more time."

Maybe you're just as desperate as he is to make this moment last because you nod lazily and he smiles at you, the pressure at the base of his cock growing and growing as he begins to piston into you, lifting himself from the step. One hand caresses your head, the other one sinks into the flesh of your ass, holding you against him as he cums inside of you at the same time you clench down on him harder, mouth seeking his.

He knows that he's broken your heart. That even though you're panting and holding onto him, he's lost you forever. You lean against him, spent and broken, pussy still milking him for all he's got.

He kisses the side of your head gently, in no rush to move, to have this come to an end. Reality waited for him, for you at the edge of the staircase but he just wanted a second more.

He caresses your back, kissing your temple, your forehead, your shoulder. Where he found skin, he kissed. Silent apologies for what he's done to you, for what he could not offer. His fingers retrace the length of your spine, up and down, over and over again. You've laid your head on his chest, trying to catch your breath and he doesn't mind. Finds the way your chest rises and falls against him to be soothing.

He doesn't know how long both of you stayed there before he slides out of you with a groan, breaking the spell. You sit up, and already he misses your warmth, growing cold as he helps you to your feet, helps you gather your clothes and once more slip into them.

He makes you turn around to clasp your bra together, kissing your shoulder blade. He smooths down your hair when you pull your shirt on, kissing your forehead for the last time when you're both dressed and decent, the smell of sex clinging to you, to him, to the staircase.

He hopes that you find a future where you forget all about him. Where you find someone worthy of your kind heart, of your soft words, of your gentle nature.

"I'm sorry," he repeats for what seems like the hundredth time, taking your hand and kissing your fingertips. This apology is for using you, for taking advantage of the love in your heart. Whatever he had done in the past to make you fall in love with him, he's sorry.

You nod, pulling your hand away from his. "I know." you say gently, quietly, sadly. You don't look at him, and he doesn't reach for you.

Guilt settles into his heart, heavy and bothersome as he pushes open the door and leaves you alone in the staircase.

AN: Thank you for reading! Here are the translations of all the Spanish words:

Perdoname- forgive me

En otra vida- In another life

Yo te prometo que soy tuyo- I promise you that I am yours.