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#good god am I tired and aching but I needed to get this done
mooseonahunt · 1 year
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Hide - RKS
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Hide your love, don’t let it slip away
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mountainsandmayhem · 5 months
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Just One More, Baby
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18+, Minors Do Not Interact Pairing: Pleasure!Dom Pike x Female!Reader Word Count: 2.8k Summary: Just a casual evening with your pleasure dom husband and as many as orgasm as he thinks you can handle. There is zero plot here, people. CW: so many orgasms, light bondage, temperature play, use of pet names (baby, honey, etc.) praise kink (obviously, unless you're new here. In that case; hi, welcome, I have a praise kink), aftercare AN: I need this man more than I need food or oxygen or money. I'm out of my mind over him and I curse the day I decided to watch these random ass episodes of The Mentalist. Friendy reminder that I am phasing out my tag list, so please follow @mountainsandmayhem-updates and turn on the notifications to stay up to date. Thank you so much for reading, where's my Pike Army? XO Dividers by @saradika-graphics
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The warm oil drizzles over your mound, spreading across your hips and cunt. You let out a pained hiss when it hits your sore and overstimulated clit.
“Ouuchh,” you whine, your breathing shudders. 
“You’ve been such a good girl,” Marcus murmurs, watching the oil as it beads and rolls in every direction. “Just relax.” 
You close your eyes and try to steady your breathing. Relaxing the muscles in your arms and legs that have been pulling at the soft silk restraints for god knows how long as Marcus pulled orgasm after orgasm out of you. 
He is still dressed, he had only managed to remove his suit jacket and tie before he started. He has the sleeves of his crisp white shirt rolled to his elbows, still tucked into the dark blue dress pants you picked up from the dry cleaner yesterday. His belt is still on, too, shoes toed off at some point during his slow torture. 
You, on the other hand, are completely naked. A delicate, white silk tie around your wrists that is then looped through the headboard, stretching your arms above your head. Your ankles are held much in the same way, one tie on each ankle, keeping your legs spread wide.
He’s used every means available to him to make you come tonight; fingers, tongue, your small purple vibrator, a dildo, or a combination of one or two of those things. He’s done everything except fuck you. At some point you lost count of the orgasms, lost track of when one would end and the next would start. 
The oil starts to soothe the dull ache he’s caused at the apex of your thighs. Marcus’s intention is never to cause you pain, but tonight you learned that too much pleasure can feel like torture. 
You let out a content sigh, muscles going gooey and pliant. “There’s my girl,” he says proudly, his strong hands coming to your hips, his thumbs needing the muscles along the crevice of your leg and pelvis. 
He clears his throat gently. “I think I counted sixteen.” 
You smirk and let out a small giggle, eyes still closed as you relax into his touches. He kisses the plush skin along your lower belly. His soft velvety lips are gentle, granted Marcus Pike is always gentle. Yes, he’ll tie you down or make you orgasm so many times you black out, but he’s always soft and warm. Always asking for permissions. Always explaining exactly what’s going to happen before it does - not that you have an option, or want an option if you’re being honest.
“Baby girl?” He mumbles, his breath hitting the oil, warming your most sensitive spots. You shudder, an icy shiver running down your spine at the feel of him. “Think we can get you to twenty?” 
His hands move to massage the tops of your thighs, thumbs crawling closer and closer to your pussy. Your clit twitches at the promise of him giving you another orgasm, that blissful tingle causes the tired and overworked walls of your cunt to flutter. Pleasure followed by a dull painful ache waves across your center and mix of a whine and whimper fills the room.
“What’s the matter, baby?”
His thumbs come to carefully pull apart your puffy outer lips. Watching intently as the oil coats your glistening folds. A moan rumbled in his chest, “Beautiful.” 
“I’m sensitive, Marcus,” you murmur, pulling at the silk ties he has your hands bound above your head with.
“I know, this perfect little pussy has taken so much. And you’ve been so brave and submissive. I’m so proud of you, honey.” He places a light kiss on the patch of hair right above your clit. 
Your orgasm happens so quickly and without him even touching you. A lustful gasp leaves your lips as you shake under him. His voice is full of lustful admiration as he says, “Good job, baby.”
Your muscles tense, hands fisting, as the orgasm rolls through you. You whine his name, equally desperate for the orgasm to end but also for it to never stop. “Just relax, that’s my good girl.” 
“Oh god,” your chest heaves as you try to catch your breath. 
“Look at me, darling.” Marcus said sweetly, the soft pads of his thumbs running up and down the slick lips of your pussy. 
You look down at him, the soft expression of his face riddling you with emotions. You can feel the tears prickle behind your eyes. Tears of what you aren’t sure. Happiness, that’s for sure. But also a sense of overwhelm and insatiable need, it’s all mixed together. You can stop it, a hot tear runs down your flushed cheek. 
“It’s ok. I’m right here,” He says softly. “You can do this, baby. Just three more, then I’ll run you a bubble bath and give you my sweat pants and all the cuddles. Can you do that? Can you give me three more?” 
“No,” you say through a shaky breath. He’s trying to kill you, you’re sure of it. And while death by orgasm might sound like a great way to go, your pussy is aching and tired. 
His thumbs stop their ministrations. 
“Do you need to use your safe word?” 
You shake your head, “No.”
He lowers his mouth to your swollen clit, lightly feathers his tongue over the tender bundle of nerves. You pull so hard on the restraints that the delicate silk snaps and your hands card through his hair, pulling him back. He has you on that paper thin line of pain and pleasure, but the slight attention to your puffy clit slices through you. “Nonono - please stop.” 
“Do you need to use your safe word?” He asks again.
You shake your head no.
“Do you need me to go get some ice? Make my tongue nice and cold, then make your pussy feel better?” 
“Yes, please.” You pout, sticking out your bottom lip. 
Marcus stands and removes his belt. “Ok baby, but first, my naughty little girl broke her restraints. Arms up.”
You put your arms back above your head and he expertly loops the belt around your wrists. He leaves the scraps of silk that are still around your delicate wrists and then wraps the belt around the headboard.
He stands beside the bed, looking down at you hungrily. “Fuck, I could torture you for hours,” his eyes flick to the alarm clock across the from you and then back to your flushed face. Smirking a little, he corrects himself. “I already have been, so I guess I should say that I will never be sick of seeing you like this. So submissive and sweet. Listening to my every word. Teetering on the edge of pain and pleasure. You’re such a good girl for me, aren’t you?” 
He runs the back of his hand down your cheek, you keen into his touch and smile at him. “Yes, I’m a good girl, Marcus.” 
He bends down, kissing your forehead and then the tip of your nose before he walks out of the bedroom. You look him up and down, so sexy in his dress pants and white dress shirt, his strong, veiny forearms on display. You had no idea what you were in for when he ditched the tie and suit jacket the moment he walked in the door tonight. But you knew that look. When frustration etched his eyebrows and a hunger flashed in his eyes. You knew he needed an escape, and you knew it came in the form doing exactly as he says.  
Marcus grabs a small bowl and fills it with ice from the freezer. He grabs you a bottle of water and then pops an ice cube in his mouth, letting the frozen water melt on his tongue as he walks back up the stairs. As he re-enters the bedroom he sees you lying there - spread eagle and arms bound, eyes closed peacefully, long lashes resting on your cheeks. Your swollen tits rise and fall, nipples hard and slightly purple from the rose gold clamps he had on them earlier. You look sinful and delicious. He meant what he said, he could do this to you forever and never get sick of it. But as your pleasure dom he knows he’s going to have to stop soon. The folds of your pussy are puffy and red, he sucks the ice cube harder, making it small enough so he can speak. 
“Goddamn,” it comes out as groan. “You’re so fuckin beautiful.” 
You flutter your eyes open, “So are you.” 
You swear he blushes as a shy smile crosses his face. “I’m going to make it all better now, baby. I’m going to use my mouth to make you come again now. My tongue is nice and cool, it should help with that ache.”
He puts the water on the bench at the foot of the bed and then climbs between your legs, placing the bowl of ice on the bed beside your hip. “Are you ready, baby girl?” 
You gulp before whispering, “Yes.” 
His cold tongue licks a slow, flat, languid line from your entrance to your clit. The cooler temperature of his mouth soothes the burning heat between your thighs. 
“Mmmm - Th-thank you, Marcus,” you hum as he repeats the motion with his tongue two, three, four more times. 
He grabs a new ice cube and pops it in his mouth. As he sucks on it, he grabs a second cube and runs it down the right outer lip of your cunt. He hushes you as you cry out and then does the same thing to the left side. The cube in his mouth has melted enough now for him to continue tasting you. He places the flat of his tongue on your clit and presses down, his hand with the ice cube comes to your right nipple. Ice starts to combat the fire in your veins, and as he trails the ice cube around your nipple, his tongue mirrors the pattern on your swollen nub. 
And then it happens again. For the eighteenth time tonight, your orgasm hits you out of nowhere. Your convulse under his cold tongue and as quickly as the orgasm starts it’s over. You’d think after coming this many times in the last two hours that you’d be satisfied and exhausted, but the quickness of that last one leaves you wanting more.
He stills his tongue and lets you grind on him, the ice cube he was trailing along your body has melted. He grabs a fresh one and traces it along your body as you shamelessly hump your husband’s face.
He brings the ice cube to rest right above your mound, the cold water running down your folds, causing you to hiss as it hits your clit. 
Marcus pulls his tongue away quickly to say, “Come on, baby.” He lays his tongue out for you again and you push your hips into him harder. 
“Fuckfuckfuck - Marcus, I - I’m, oh fuuuuuck.”
He slips the ice cube between his tongue and your cunt and you shatter around him.
“Oh god, mmmmm, yes.” Your voice is hoarse, throat dry from the combination of your rapid breathing and incoherent ramblings throughout the night.
He stays still, letting you control your nineteenth orgasm. His name spills from your lips as you circle your hips. The walls of your pussy clench and release around nothing, slowly and deeply, over and over. Sparks of pleasure light behind your eyes. 
“Marcus. Yesyes - oh my god,” your legs start to tremble as you come down the other side of the most intense orgasm you’ve had so far tonight. 
“Good girl,” he whispers, kissing up your hip bone to your stomach, your navel to your sternum, the swell of your breasts to your neck, and finally your lips. “You’re doing so well, baby. Just one more. Can you do just one more for me?” 
You strain your neck to press your lips to his again. Kissing him deeply and slowly. “One more,” you mumble into his lips. 
“I’m going to untie you for this one. I want to feel your fingers tug at my hair as I suck on that perfect little clit while pushing my fingers against that little spot inside of you that drives you absolutely wild. Is that ok, little one?” 
“Mmm,” you hum. Mischievously adding, “Yes, daddy.” 
Marcus laughs flirtatiously as he releases your wrists from his belt and the torn silk ties. “Are you okay, baby?” 
You nod as he guides your arms down and then situates himself between your soft, plush thighs, sitting back on his heels.
“Do you need a drink?” He asks, grabbing the water from the foot of the bed. 
“Yes, please.”
He cracks the lid and then helps you sit, guiding the bottle to your lips. You sip a little, the cool water soothes your throat. Marcus’s brown eyes bore into you, soothing the rest of your body. “One more, baby,” he whispers. 
You hum in agreement before lying back down in the bed. Marcus leaves your ankles restrained as he unbuttons his dress shirt and then tosses it on the floor. You eye his hard chest and slightly soft belly, a line of dark hair that starts at his navel and travels down to his cock, which is rock hard under his dress pants.
He gives you a shy closed lip smile, “Do you need to use your safe word?” 
“No,” you say breathily.
Marcus grabs an ice cube and holds it in his fist, his lips coming to place lingering kisses on your clit. Making out with one of his favourite parts of you. Kissing and kissing, occasionally running his tongue along it before kissing you deeply again. 
Once the ice cube in his hand has melted, he teases at your entrance with two cold fingers. You cry out, as pushes them all the way in and then he curls them forward, turning you into a moaning mess. You wrap your fingers into his hair like he asked, holding his face against you. 
“That’s my girl,” he says between kisses. “So good for me.” 
He sucks your clit into his mouth, pumping his fingers against your g spot. A pained cry passes your lips, “aah, it hurts.” 
“I know, baby. You’re so close.” He whispers encouragingly, pausing the suckling on your clit, keeping his fingers still. 
“I - I can’t.”
“You can do it, baby. You’re almost there. I can feel you clenching me.” He curls his fingers forward slowly. “Come on, my love.” 
“M - Marcus. It hurts, baby. I can’t. I can’t.” You whimper. 
“Relax, baby.” His free hand presses on your lower belly and the pressure behind your navel becomes nearly unbearable. “That’s it, fuck baby. I can feel her fluttering for me. Can feel your orgasm building. You’re amazing, did you know that? Give me number twenty, pretty girl.”
You whimper again, willing your body to relax. Willing for the dull painful ache to blossom into pleasure.
“Good girl. Just relax,” he presses down on your stomach harder, his fingers still cold inside you as they tickle against the front wall of your pussy. 
You tighten your grip in his hair and he hisses at the pain in his scalp before bringing his lips back to your clit. He sucks it into his mouth loudly, lewd sucking noises filling the room, only interrupted by your mumbles of building pleasure. 
He releases your clit, “Let go for me.”
With a final steadying breath it hits you. Your last orgasm sashes over, erasing every thought until all you are is the pleasure Marcus gives you. Your abused pussy flutters weakly around his fingers as he pumps them inside of you. You gasp and squeal as your body breaks out in goosebumps, but simultaneously glistens with a fresh sheen of sweat. 
Marcus slows his fingers and looks up at you through his lashes. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispers in awe as the involuntary full body twitching of your orgasm starts to slow.
“So…” he kisses your mound.
“...Very…” he stops his fingers and kisses your hip. 
“...Beautiful,” he starts to slowly slip his fingers out and your body goes slack. 
You lay there panting, trying to catch your breath and find your muscles. Marcus unties your ankles and climbs beside you, pulling you into him and tucking your head into his neck. 
“I love you,” he murmurs into your hairline, kissing you softly. “You did so well for me. Twenty orgasms. My good girl.” 
You roll into him tighter and wince when your thighs squeeze together. 
“Aw, baby. Is she sore?” 
You pull back to be able to look at him. “A little, yeah.” 
“Come here,” he pulls you closer. “Just let me hold you a little and then I’ll run you that bubble bath I promised.” 
“Will you come in with me?” You ask sleepily. 
Marcus laughs gently, “Of course. Whatever my baby wants.” 
You nuzzle deeper into his skin and let your eyelids close. Completely and utterly surrounded by your beautiful husband. 
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neochan · 1 year
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THE PRIDEFUL GAMER (M)
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SERIES MASTERLIST LINK | remember this is part two of a series! read part one for context!
PAIRING | best friend!haechan x reader
SYNOPSIS |  lee donghyuck had the largest ego you’d ever seen for someone who stayed cramped in their dorm room all night playing video games; but when you stay in with him the night after a raging party, you find yourself realizing that ego just might be deserved.
WC | 10.8k
WARNINGS | cursing, mentions of alcohol & weed, sexual comments, hyuck shirtless and covered in paint, party games, comments abt virginity, switch!hyuck (slight sub, lean dom), sexual content (nothing too crazy).
A.N | i know you guys have been waiting for this, so i hope it lives up to the hype :) and if it doesn't - sorry
“Haechan, I need you to fuck me.”
Your reflection stares back at you in the mirror, tired eyes ringed with heavy circles and glinting in judgement.
This was fucking ridiculous.
No matter how many times you sat in front of the mirror and practiced, you couldn’t get the words out with a straight face. Even the wet dreams that plagued your sleeping hours weren’t enough to prepare you. After all, you still couldn’t believe what you were going to ask Haechan to do. Or participate in, rather.
It wasn’t that you were scared, or that you didn’t want it, because trust and believe your mind and body both craved him; it was just stressful. Asking your bestfriend to give you some dick and then go on and mind his business like nothing happened?
Unfathomable.
But it was Haechan, and something in your brain told you he’d jump at the chance to fuck you; at least you were hoping so. How could you not think that when he said things like –
“If I open the door, am I gonna see boobs?”
Case in point.
You yell back, a blush of embarrassment heating your face while you fumble around to act like you were putting on makeup and not practicing asking him for sex, “No you pervert!”
The door swings wide open and the boy in question steps into the tiny room, “That’s a damn shame.”
God Damn.
Ever since that alcohol induced dream, your body had taken the liberty of reacting every time you caught sight of Haechan. It didn’t matter if he was drunk with pasta sauce smeared all over his face after he smashed a bowl of ravioli (true story), or if he was all done up for a class presentation on the history of the toaster oven (out of all things); your body reacted the same either way.
It went further than just sight though. If you so much as smelled someone wearing similar cologne to what he normally wore, arousal bells started ringing and you had to sprint home to relieve the ache between your legs.
This time wasn’t any different.
Fluffy, dark brown hair is what you see first, gelled stylishly in effortless waves around his head, save for the small curls on the nape of his neck. When you move your gaze lower, you lock eyes with his, and a spark of curiosity blooms. Then it’s his perfect pink lips set in a cute pout, and rounded jaw that you often stared at when he ate because it made you think of how good he’d be at eating you out. The thoughts start to creep into your mind, and you have no choice but to shake them out and replace them with something else, which so happened to be his outfit…or lack thereof.
He wasn’t wearing a shirt, revealing a cute tummy with faint lines and deeply toned biceps. You’d punched him in the stomach once before, and you didn’t need to see abs to know that that man was rock solid. Multicolored neon body paint decorated his torso and back, tiny splatters here and there, but the star of the show is a lime green handprint wrapped around his throat (Jaemins probably). His black sweats also had paint on them, but his combat boots didn’t have a drop of color. If he expected to get out of the frat with them looking spotless, he had another thing coming.
“You do know the theme is neon?” His voice jolts you back into reality, and the blush that was gone finds its way back to your throat and cheeks. You were literally sitting in front of the mirror with a neon pink bralette on, why was he asking you this? Slightly, you nod. “Then why are you staring at me? I know I’m not ripped like Jen or Jaem, but come on, I can rock the dad bod!”
“Haechan. Take this with a grain of salt, but you have a decent body.”
Automatically, the compliment goes to his head, “Wanna see all of it sometime?”
Yes, please.
“No.”
A cheeky smile forms on his lips, “Thought so…”
“I’m actually surprised you’re going. Don’t you have a video game competition or something?” You stand up from your spot in front of the vanity and grab your leather jacket that was laying on the rack beside it.
“I can’t pass up free liquor. You know this.”
For some reason, your outfit seems like its missing something, and desperately your eyes are searching for it… ah! A necklace. You couldn’t go in a frat without some form of jewelry. Unable to reach behind yourself and clasp it, you hold it out to Haechan who doesn’t hesitate to grab it and push your shoulder, so your back was to him. “So, the plan is to get hammered?”
Tender fingers brush aside your hair, a spark igniting in the pit of your stomach. You feel almost giddy at his touch, and you’re not sure you entirely hate it. You anticipate more, and he doesn’t disappoint. His hands reach around your throat, the heavy pendant resting at the base of your throat while his fingers work at the nape of your neck to clasp it.
“The plan is to get absolutely drunk, find a bad bitch and fuck her till the entire house knows my name.” His voice is low, dropping right next to your ear, and the air blowing from his lips makes your shiver into his touch at your neck.
“S-Sounds like a good plan.” you whisper.
What was this boy doing to you?
“Wanna help?”
“H-Help? Help with what? Help you?”
He backs away, hands held out in front of him and a smile cracking his features, “Yeah. Wanna help me find a frat bunny?”
I’m right here.
“Oh, uh, sure.”
“Perfect.” He starts to head out before turning back to you, “You didn’t think I was gonna ask if I could fuck you… did you?”
Your response comes out suspiciously fast, but Haechan had pregamed before stopping at your dorm, and he definitely didn’t catch it, “No! I would never! You’re like… really fucking gross. Sorry Hyuck.”
“Ahhh, theres the Y/N I know!” he claps you on the shoulder, “By the way, Jeno and Jaem are waiting in the car downstairs so hurry up.”
With that, he’s gone, the slamming of the front door resonating deep in the pit of your stomach, your nerves buzzing, and every muscle tense.
This was going to be a long night.
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People were already throwing up in the bushes by the time you and the boys arrived, but you’d rather wade through puke than sit in Jeno’s car a second longer.
The entire ride to the frat house was a mess. From being squished between Jaemin and Hyuck, thanks to Jeno reserving the front seat for his precious bottles of Smirnoff and Hennessy (Seriously, he wouldn’t move them. He even buckled them up in case he crashed the car. As if the bottles wouldn’t break.) to having one of said bottles passed around the backseat and promptly spilled all over your upper body; you couldn’t take it anymore.
Unfortunately, the situation was made worse by Haechan's actions. As the cold alcohol spilled all over you, his hands peppered over your body, gliding through the sticky liquid that was rapidly drying. When he touched the lace of your bralette, his fingers inadvertently brushed against your nipple, reigniting the warmth in your stomach.
You really hoped he hadn’t noticed.
Jaemin, on the other hand, kept shoving his arm around to try and garner your attention towards his phone, which had pictures of sorority girls pulled up.
“Which ones should I take back to my place tonight?” He kept asking you, again and again and again until you and his minty breath were quite acquainted.
Needless to say, you wanted out.
So, when the car came to a screeching halt along the sidewalk, you were all but climbing over Jaemins lap to get the door open.
“You know, I’ve always wondered what it’d be like to have you all over me, but this isn’t what I meant.” The flirtatious jokes from Jaemin were already starting, but he wasn’t the target tonight, Haechan was.
“Sorry, Haechan’s body odor was starting to get to me.” You send a warm smile to the boy clambering out of Jeno small coupe behind you.
“I literally haven’t even started being mean to you yet, why are you throwing insults?” Haechan stands tall, the heels of his combat boots making him tower over you, “And I’m wearing old spice anyway, this shit lasts ages. You must have been smelling Jaemins dick… I heard it’s quite overused.”
The pink haired boy whips around, hands shoved deep into the pocket of his sweatpants, “Why are you mad I get more pussy than you?”
Jeno thrusts a bottle of alcohol into you and Haechans hands, leaving Jaemin empty handed, who looks at you with a pout. You uncap your bottle, a dark thing of Hennessy, and pass it to him.
Haechan snorts, “Not mad, just annoyed that you keep me up all night with your grunting.”
Jaemin passes the bottle back to you and gives you a wink, but he doesn’t say anything else. Instead, the four of you start walking through the grass and up the steps to the frat house.
The front lawn was littered with red, plastic solo cups, ping pong balls, and empty beer cans. Toilet paper hung around a poorly spray-painted piece of cardboard that read, ‘welcome to the jungle’. College students hung around the porch smoking cigarettes and weed, and somehow a joint ends up between your fingers before you’ve even reached the front door.  
“Wanna shotgun that?” Haechan smirks, wiggling his eyebrows when you shove the loosely wrapped blunt between your lips.
Inhaling takes a minute, the burning sensation of the weed filling your lungs and immediately reaching your bloodstream. You blow the smoke directly in Haechans face as a way of declining his offer, though pressing your lips against his and sharing a smoky kiss sounded real good right then.
He waves a hand in front of his face, “Fine. I see how it is.”
Whoever handed you the blunt plucks it out from between your fingers before you can pass it to Haechan and disappears around the side of the house.
“Well, that was mean.” Jaemin sighs defeatedly.
“I’m pretty sure Renjun is inside selling if you want to buy something off of him.” Jeno shouts over his shoulder.
“Fair warning though, he doesn’t roll well.” You spit tiny green pieces of marijuana onto the front walkway and cringe at the taste. There was a reason you didn’t like edibles.
Jeno just nods to the freshman pledge assigned to door duty (a scrawny boy who went by the name of Shotaro) and shoulders the front door of the house. Immediate booming bass finds your chest and rattles through you, the smell of spilled alcohol and cheap drugs clouding the house in a thick smog. Black lights hang from the ceiling, the people loitering near the entranceway glowing brightly in neon oranges, blues, green, yellows, and pinks.
You vaguely notice a few of the brothers roaming around passing out beers to the partygoers, but one in particular notices the four of you crowding the entrance and discards his last beer to a random girl at his side before jogging over.
“Jae!” Jeno and the brother lock hands and embrace, slapping each other’s backs in a way that looked painful.
The only reason you had gotten into the frat parties all year long was because of Jaehyuns and Jeno’s relationship – they were on the hockey team together, and brothers.
Jung Jaehyun was a senior, the head of the most popular frat on campus, NEO, and Jeno’s half-brother. You’d never really interacted with him, but from what you heard, he was a nice guy with an even nicer girlfriend, and they were head over heels in love with each other. You didn’t see her around anywhere, not that you would know what she looked like.
“Looking for someone?” Haechans voice, gravelly and low, finds your ear and makes you shiver despite how hot it was in the house. You hated the way he made your body feel, but not as much as you should have.
“You’re about to be looking out of one eye if you don’t back the fuck up.” Hostility was not your strong suit, but Haechan just drug something out of you.
“Jesus Christ, you need to drink. You’re so much better drunk. A lot nicer.” He smiles down at you, the corners of his eyes crinkling, and you can physically feel your heart beginning to melt.
A little voice in the back of your head is telling you to say, and you’re so much better when you shut up, how about you put that mouth to use between my legs?
But you refrain.
It’s very hard to refrain.
You almost slip.
That is, until you realize Jaehyun has since walked away and left the four of you to party how you please.
“Okay. I’ll be staying sober. Well, as sober as a good couple blunts make me. Please try to stay in the house, it makes it so much easier when it’s time to go and I have to round you jack offs up.” Jeno smirks, handing his bottle of alcohol to Jaemin who gladly takes it.
You’re surprised he hasn’t already gone looking for someone to fuck, it was well known that him and Jaehyun didn’t particularly get along. Something about Jaemin fucking Jaehyuns ex… you didn’t know the full story.
Jeno grabs Haechans bare shoulders, “Please, for the love of God, do not jump in the pool again. Last time you almost drowned and I don’t feel like planning a funeral for your sorry ass.”
“I make no such promises, but I will try my best.” The younger boy beams.
“Alright, go have fun, and try not to catch a STD. I’ll be over with Renjun if you need me.” And with that, your friend Jeno breaks from the group, his neon painted bare back shining brightly amongst the crowd right before he fades in.
Jaemin breaks off almost immediately after chugging the bottle of alcohol Jeno had given him.
Haechan, who wasn’t one for parties and usually stayed holed up in his dorm room playing video games all night, sways by your side awkwardly.
“Aren’t you gonna go find a frat bunny to fuck?” You shout over the blaring music.
He looks almost nervous when he shifts his gaze to you, “I don’t really see anyone of interest… except you of course. Wanna go fuck in the bathroom?” A shit eating grin blinds you right before he lifts the Smirnoff bottle and takes a swig, finishing it with a grimace.
Wouldn’t it be nice to say yes and get his part of the challenge over? Fuck, how you wanted to grab his hand and drag him to the nearest bathroom, but frat parties weren’t the place to hook up, and you wanted to take your time with him anyway.
“I wouldn’t let you touch me with a ten-foot pole.”
“You’re telling me you don’t wanna hit this?” He rubs his free hand across his chest and stomach, dipping it so far as to drag down a bit of his sweatpants. A strong V-Line peeks out and you almost choke on air, eyes bugging out of your skull.
“Keep your fucking clothes on Hyuck.” You sputter.
He cocks an eyebrow and reaches out for your hand, which you hesitate to take. What was he doing? Was he trying to bring you into the nearest bathroom?
All he does is tug you towards the main room, an open area full of students dancing, drinking, and smoking, “Interesting… Come on, let’s party.”
The feeling of his calloused fingers enlaced with yours was enough to send your mind spiraling deep into the thoughts that plagued your dreams – like what it would feel like to have them wrapped around your neck, or shoved between your thighs, maybe even down your throat. 
Mentally, you tell your brain to shut up (it always did get slutty in these environments).
“Y/N!!” A girly voice shouts off to your left, dragging both you and Haechans attention. Lisa, a girl in the same major as you, who you’ve known for a couple years now, is barreling toward you and the boy you’re linked hand in hand with. She shoves a few partygoers to the side, an opened beer can in her hand which she’s cautious enough not to spill.
When she finally makes it to your side, her eyes dip down and make note of your hands crushed together, a freshly waxed eyebrow popping up in question at you. Immediately you yank your hand away from Haechan, who glares in protest but doesn’t say anything.
“I didn’t think I would see you here!” She’s beaming head to toe and slings a paint splattered arm around your shoulders.
You smile back, “Jeno made me come.” She’d had a crush on Jeno for ages, and from the look on her face at the mention of his name, it still existed.
“Oh, he’s here? I didn’t even know!! I need to go find him asap.”
“Well yeah, it’s his brothers party and all…” Haechan pipes up from beside of you, nervously biting at his nails. He always chewed his cuticles unrecognizable.
She looks up at him with a weird expression before extracting her arm and turning to face you, her back to Haechan, who sneers and throws up a middle finger in her direction. It makes you chuckle, but thankfully she doesn’t question it.
“Well, a bunch of us are playing games upstairs if you wanna join.”
You start to say no, but you can tell in her eyes that she wasn’t going to take that as an answer, so you nod your head, “Sure.”
A squeal so loud heads turn, erupts from her mouth, “Good!!! Ima go find Jeno and then head up there. I’ll see you soon.” And with a kiss to your cheek, she’s gone.
“Well, guess we’re playing games.” Haechan huffs, reaching for your hand now that she was gone, “I hope it’s spin the bottle so I can kiss you.”
Me too.
Rolling your eyes, you start towards the stairs, “Haechan?”
“Yeah?”
“Shut up.”
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Haechan didn’t shut up.
In fact, he kept his mouth running all the way up the stairs, through the bodies loitering in the hallway, around a puddle of puke, and into the makeshift living room Lisa must have set up.
Not like you were paying much attention to what he said anyways. Instead, your mind chose to focus on the way his back looked in the dim lighting of the frat house. Underneath a layer of pretty tan skin, the boy was all muscle, stretching and tensing when his lithe legs carried him up the inclined stairs. And when he turned around to make sure you were still following him, despite his hand being attached to yours, you notice the muscles carried all the way around to his abdomen and torso.
Because the house was hot and humid, the paint splattered on his chest was fading and streaking. The neon paint dripped down his body, with some even dribbling into the waistband of his sweatpants. The idea of the paint staining his v-line creates a sensation of warmth in your stomach.
You wanted to see him naked so bad and it made you mad.
What happened to the boy who stayed in his room every day and barely touched vegetables? What happened to him being a friend and just that? Had one night of drinking skewed your common sense? Or was this just a side effect of the challenge you were doing?
Whatever, he’s fucking hot and he has a big dick, you argue with yourself, images of what you saw on his phone flashing through your mind.
Haechan getting his dick sucked by some random girl, forcing her to deepthroat and then whimpering.
The thought alone almost makes you steer him into the nearest bathroom, but the makeshift living room comes too soon.
“I literally can’t get rid of you.” Jaemin perks up from his spot on the floor, bottle of liquor tucked away in his lap.
“Talk to Lisa.” You shoot back flatly.
As you glance around the room, you realize that the only person you recognize is Jaemin. While a few faces seem familiar, you can't recall their names or where you may have seen them before.
Hyuck guides you over to the circle where everyone is seated and takes a spot, leaving you to settle in opposite him. "Looks like it's just you and me," he says with a grin, displaying his gleaming white teeth. You can't help but wonder how they would feel against your inner thighs, and you unconsciously clench them together while crossing your arms.
You didn’t know how long Lisa and Jeno were going to be, or if she was still downstairs recruiting more players, but you’re lucky not to be left alone with your thoughts too long, because a couple minutes later, she, Jeno and Jaehyun (surprisingly) filter into the room, one after the other.
Haechan’s eyes cut to you, and he smirks, eyebrows wiggling in a stupidly suggestive way.
“Okay! Seems like we got enough players.” Lisa pipes up, taking the spot next to you that sat empty (thankfully no one had sat and tried to make acquaintance. you were too sober for that). Jeno sits off to your right, and Jaehyun takes the spot next to Haechan.
Jaemin leans in towards the circle, appearing invested as he asks, "What game are we playing?" His gaze travels up and down Lisa's body, and he licks his lips. You roll your eyes; of course, she was the one he was after tonight. Too bad her eyes were on Jeno.
She gives a short giggle before replying, “How about seven minutes in heaven?”
A low murmur ripples through the circle but affirming head nods set the game in motion.
Honestly, you find the game awkward and childish, something played in your early high school years, but maybe the universe and luck would be on your side tonight.
Wasn’t the whole point of tonight to get into Haechans pants? This silly little game was the perfect opportunity.
He seemed to be on the same wavelength because one glance and you see him making kissy faces directed at you.
Why the fuck was he so weird?
And why did you want to crawl across the circle and kiss him?
“Great, can we use that bottle Jaemin?” Lisa asks, and he’s quick to shove it in the middle. He must really want her to come home with him tonight if he’s giving up his alcohol that easily – or the bottle at least.
Lisa takes a finger and spins the bottle, the handle flying around so fast it looked like a blur. You hold your breath, silently praying it doesn’t land on you. You could probably hear a pen drop in the room (plus the thumping bass coming up through the floorboards).
It comes to a standstill, pointing at a random girl you’ve never seen before. She looks nervous, but that was to be expected, right?
Lisa spins the bottle again and you thank your lucky stars when it lands on another girl in the circle.
Two girls down, about 12 of you left.
The next few rounds follow a similar pattern, with two unfamiliar people being chosen and then awkwardly leaving the circle. At some point Jaemin and a blonde headed bimbo filter off to surely fuck.
The game starts to feel pointless, but then the bottle lands on you.
Haechan immediately perks up from being previously slumped against a pillow. The bottle of Smirnoff by his side was slowly draining, and you could tell he was feeling it a bit. A rosy blush spread itself on his cheeks and his eyes shined bright. An eager look crosses his face when Lisa tips the bottle into spinning.
Whoever it landed on was going to be shoved in a tiny closet with you for the next seven minutes. Time ticked slow, your eyes following it’s every move.
Spinning.
And spinning.
And spinning.
And stop.
“No fucking way.” Haechan pouts.
Your eyebrows raise, a short, disbelieving laugh rushing past your lips. The bottle has landed between Jaehyun and Haechan, more towards the latter, but nearly dead set between.
“Well, who is it then?” Haechan urges, pushing himself up on his knees, “Cause it’s more towards me, so I think it’s only fair…”
“Maybe by a single degree.” Jaehyun argues, locking his eyes with yours and giving a lopsided smile.
It strikes you as odd that Jaehyun, who you're pretty sure has a girlfriend (Jeno had mentioned her once or twice), is even participating in the game. Despite this, he seems to be making eyes at you, smiling with deep dimples and winking. You just stare back at him, causing the tips of his ears to flush red. You weren’t going to be the cause of a scandal if he was, in fact, still dating that girl.
So the dilemma (that wasn’t really a dilemma) dawns on you. Your best friend or the boy who (maybe) had a girlfriend? You contemplate storming out of the room and forfeiting the game – but what was the fun in that? And anyways, Haechan looked like he was getting antsy.
“Come on Hyuck.” you grumble, pushing yourself up off the dusty floor and slipping out into the semi-crowded hallway. The boy eagerly follows on your heel until you’re shouldering a random door and slipping into a dark room.
It feels much bigger than the closet you were envisioning, though where was the fucking light? Both of you search the walls to no avail. Faintly, you see the outline of a bed and walk over to it, dropping down on the sunken mattress – Haechan following your lead.
“What a coincidence that it’s you and me. I mean, I knew you wanted to fuck me, but seriously, how did you rig a spin the bottle game?”
In this moment you’re glad for the darkness enveloping the room – then he wouldn’t see the shock and embarrassment flooding your face.
Defensively, you shove his chest, “Shut up. I didn’t rig the game.”
The smirk is almost evident in his tone, “Oh, but you do wanna fuck me?”
“No – Haechan I wanted to play a game. Of course fate would give me your ass.”
“Maybe fate wants us to hook up.” he murmurs.
I’d agree with fate then, you think.
A million thoughts flood your mind in a millisecond. How convenient it was that you were stuck in an empty room, with a bed, with Hyuck – with a shirtless Hyuck. The dim lighting outlines the contours of his chest, and you can feel yourself clenching your thighs together for what felt like the umpteenth time.
“Would you like that?” You whisper, slightly leaning closer to him. He wasn’t that far away. Maybe a foot at most.
“Is the sky blue?” He retorts, ever so slightly leaning into you too.
You roll your eyes, “Is that a trick question – because it’s nighttime right now and the sky is black.”
“I don’t know, maybe you should kiss me and find out.”
His voice is lower than normal, which surprises you. But not as much as the statement. You knew he was like this – forward and flirty. Though it’s different when you actually want to reciprocate.
Time slows down and the electricity of the moment surrounds you two. His lips are inching towards your own, long, slender fingers grabbing your thighs.
Fuck, it’s happening – Everything you’ve been dreaming about for weeks on end. How did this happen so fast?
You can smell the alcohol on his breath – wondering if he’ll taste sweet like brandy.
“Hyuck…” you whisper, “ I-“
Light and sound flood the room, startling the fuck outta you and making you jump three feet back into the headboard.
“Oh shit –” the partygoer curses.
The girl on his arm giggles, “’m sorry. Didn’t mean to barge in on you two!” They slam the door, and the muffled sounds of the party bring you back to the present.
Yellow spots cloud your vision as you fumble to stand up, almost tripping over what you can assume to be a backpack.
You swallow thickly, “Let’s go back downstairs.”
“I’ll meet you down there.” Haechan whispers, one hand running through his hair, “You go on ahead.”
Without another word, you slip into the hallway and slink down the stairs – into the hands of hundreds of drunk college kids. You see Jaemin taking shots and Jeno smoking it up with Renjun.
What the fuck just happened.
And why did I ruin it.
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After a good twenty minutes away from each other, you realize he was the only person who you cared to hang out with. So, you found him utterly intoxicated on the kitchen floor and forced him to dance with you.
Well really you just forced him off the kitchen floor which he really didn’t want to leave, but once he was up and moving, he took you by hand and made the night worthwhile.
Now two hours later, with most of the alcohol Jeno had supplied gone, all you can think about is sucking Haechans dick.
It’s because of the way he danced (and smelled, and looked, and…). His hands reach out and greedily grab at your waist, fingers twisting through the empty belt loops of your jeans. A bit of the paint he had on was smudged against you, thanks to him pulling you into a bear hug earlier in the night.
He was drunk, and it made him extra touchy. Though you didn’t mind, in fact, you welcomed it now that your resolve was slipping. So, when he pushes you against the wall, one hand held high over your head, his other circling your jaw, it’s no surprise that your heartbeat goes wild. A blush rises hot on your face; his eyes finding yours and piquing with dull amusement.
“I gotta tell you a secret-” he slurs, swaying in your arms. He thinks for a minute before putting a hand over his mouth, “Wait, I can’t tell you.” When you don’t respond, instead, electing to stare at him in amusement, his lips jut out into a pout, “Why don’t you like me?”
One of your hands pushes against his slick with sweat chest, “I do like you?” Your breathing becomes labored when his lips pull back in a sloppy grin.
“You like me? You like me!!” Haechan teeters a bit to the left, almost falling into another couple that were vigorously making out, “They need to get a room… we need to get a room.”
We had a room.
“We need to get a room?” You question, eyes widening when he leans in so close he’s only an inch away from kissing you.
“Can I kiss you?”
It feels like the room comes to a crescendo, every sound clashing yet becoming silent at the same time. All you can think about is his mouth and how pretty and pink his lips are. How it would be heaven to meld into the strong grasp of your best friend. How the constant nights of intimate dreams of him weren’t enough to satisfy you. How you should have taken him up on his offer in that damn room.
How you wanted to go to that damn bathroom now.
But this was wrong.
The wrong time, wrong place, wrong everything.
You were drunk, he was more than drunk, and surely that would affect whether you thought he fucked the best.
From around his shoulder, you spot Jeno staring at you with a beer in his hand – so much for staying sober. He’s smirking, slightly chuckling, and cocking his eyebrows at you as if asking, ‘you gonna kiss him?’
“Haechan.”
The boy has gone from being semi coherent to humming some sort of song that wasn’t even close to the one that was playing.
“Haechan!” you shake his shoulder in an attempt to snap him out of the stupor, and suddenly he stands up tall.
“Y/N, I missed you!!! What are you doing here?” It was like he was seeing you for the first time.
He was too drunk to function. You should have expected as much, but you’re still slightly disappointed that you wouldn’t be able to go forth with your plan.
You sigh and grab his arm, the disappointment nearly sobering you up, “Let’s go find Jeno and get you home, okay?”
His eyes go frantic, “We can’t forget Jaemin! We have to find Jaemin!!!”
“Don’t worry Hyuck, I’d leave you here sooner than I would him.”
Maybe then I wouldn’t have the urge to ride you on the frats sofa.
“Meanie.”
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Steaming bags of takeout hang off your arm as you fumble to push your way through the unusually small dorm door.
“Hyuck! Jaemin!” you yell, hoping one of them would dart out of their room and help you with the load of cheap food you were threatening to drop on the ground. You shouldn’t be surprised when all is silent except for the smash of controller buttons and Haechans frustrated screech.
You wade through the mess that nearly makes you gag – piles of clothes, dirty socks and mud caked shoes. Books and pages of lecture notes litter the ground accompanied with crushed RedBull cans – evidence that Haechan did indeed leave his room at some point.
“Yo, you really need to clean this shit up.” you pantomime throwing up and toss the bags of takeout on Haechans dark blue bedspread that was actually made for once.
His back is to you, eyes trained on the video game he was playing, giving you a half-hearted grunt to acknowledge what you said. The too-big headset threatens to engulf his head, nearly sliding off as he jolts forward in the gaming chair.
“Fuck! Fuck! No… no… don’t… SHIT!” Exasperation floods his tone once the screen turns completely red and his character returns to the main lobby. “You guys suck ass.”
Without hearing their response, he shuts off his monitor and spins around to face you, who was patiently waiting on his bed, “Sorry. I woulda got the door for ya, but…” he gestures behind himself.
“It’s fine.” you mumble.
His eyes travel from your face and to the short ass skirt that was slung over your hips. Immediately your face heats up. Why was this awkward? Does he even remember what happened last night? How you almost kissed in some random frat bros room? Or how he had you pressed up against the wall, asking to kiss you. Does he remember the drive home? How he laid in your lap, drunkenly massaging your thighs? Surely he had to remember you tucking him into bed with the promise of takeout tomorrow night?
But when you look him in the eyes, you just see your friend eager to eat – not someone who you nearly fucked last night.
You clear your throat, “Um, where’s Jaemin?”
Haechan shrugs and starts sifting through the boxes of rice and pork cutlets, “He left early this morning. Said he wouldn’t be back until tomorrow. Bet that means he’s going to get some pussy.” He takes a bite of rice and speaks through the mouthful, “Twenty four hours though? That’s a long ass time for him.”
You snort and take the box of rice he was gesturing towards you, “Nah, that’s light work for Jaem. As long as he lets us know he’s alive, I think a sex bender might be best for him.”
“You know, he’s still mad that you wouldn’t let him leave with that girl last night.” Haechans laugh rings through the room, making you smile. He had such a pretty voice.
“He was drunker than the both of us combined.” You tear the end of a soy sauce packet and dump it into the container in your lap. “Speaking of, what do you remember from last night? Did you, like, totally black out?”
“Not much, just that you were coming over today.” He says through another mouthful of food.
Great, so he didn’t remember anything. How convenient for you.
“Well… you ended up peeing on this guy when we were leaving because you missed the bush.”
“I missed the bush?”
“The whole bush.”
“Oh my god.”
“I know.”
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The food was long gone, with empty containers flooding his trashcan that begged to be taken out.
You were bored.
Here you were, laying on his bed with a lowcut shirt and a fucking miniskirt, and he was back to playing his game.
For the past hour you tried to get him to join you, but to no avail. Who knew that your first target would be the hardest to fuck? How can you accurately judge how good he fucked if he wouldn’t even lay on the bed with you?
One last chance or you were leaving.
This was an all or nothing moment.
“I’m horny.” It was a declaration. A statement so bold, he turns ever-so-slightly towards you and raises an eyebrow.
“Excuse me?”
You scoff, “You heard me. I need to fuck someone or something.”
The squeak of his chair rings through the uncomfortably silent room as he adjusts himself. What was he thinking? Was he disgusted? Flustered? Did he feel the same?
“Well now that you mention it…” he swallows thickly. Was it hot in his room? Could you feel it too?
You push yourself up into a sitting position, “Come help me.” His dark brown eyes flutter, the tops of his cheeks dusting a light pink color, but he stays silent. "No smart reply? No sexual comments? Did I really fluster the Lee Haechan?"
He gets up from his gaming chair, almost toppling over in the process and spilling the can of Redbull he was clutching onto for dear life. "I am not flustered. " The mattress dips under his weight as he gets comfortable next to you, his gaze falling to the lowcut shirt you wore, "Can’t I touch them if you’re serious?”
His bottom lip juts out in a pout, obviously joking around (your boobs always seemed to be the butt of his sexual comments), but even still, you find yourself removing your shirt before you can think.
The look on his face is priceless, wide eyes almost bugging out of his skull, “I was kidding! Jesus Christ Y/N, put your shirt back on!” his voice has somehow pitched up two octaves, obviously taken aback, but for some reason his eyes remain open and transfixed. It looks as if he’s almost salivating, especially when he watches your nipples perk up from how cool he kept his room.
Reaching out a hand, you clasp his wrist and bring it closer to your body, “But I’m serious.” The bewildered expression never left his face, even when you had him cup his palm around your breast, and then when he took matters into his own hands and gave you a fair squeeze, which made you giggle.
“Am I dreaming? This must be a dream?”
You hop up on your knees, making your tits bounce in the process which drops Haechan’s jaw, “Not a dream, very much reality.”
Slowly and sexily, you crawl towards his seated position beside you, “I want you Haechan.” You breathe the words out slowly, giving him time to comprehend what the fuck his best friend just said.
Confusion flits across his face and he hesitates, “But Y/N…”
“But what? I want you. I want you to fuck me.” His pupils blew wide at the confession.
“Y/N… I can’t.”
Disappointment fills your heart and deflates your ego in a millisecond. You should have known. How could you be so stupid? Of course, he didn’t want to fuck you. You were best friends for fucks sake. It would ruin everything. Why did you even try? Because you were drunk and horny the night the challenge was first brought up? Pathetic, really.
Haechan must have seen the worry and doubt fill your eyes because all of a sudden, he’s grabbing your shoulders, “No, It’s… It’s not because I don’t want to,” His eyes wash over your half naked body, and he licks his lips, “Trust me, I want to…but I’m…I’m.”
Leaning in ever so slightly you whisper, “You’re what? Scared?”
It was a taunt, a tease, a challenge, and he knew it, but he just shakes his head, “Y/N… I’m a virgin.”
Now it was your turn to be shocked, completely taken aback by this new revelation, “You’re a… virgin?”
Pink tints his cheeks and collarbones peeking through his oversized t-shirt, and he hangs his head to avoid eye contact, “Yeah, I’ve never had… never had sex.”
“But you always say –”
“I talk a big game, okay?” The reply rushes from his lips, embarrassment kicking him in the ass, “Yeah I’ve gotten head before, and I’ve eaten a few girls out, but I’ve never had actual sex. It’s… just never happened I guess.”
Here you were, trying to seduce not only your best friend, but your best friend that has just told you he was a virgin. You were trying to steal a virgins innocence. How fucked could you really be?
To be fair, he always acted like he got hella pussy, you argue with yourself.
“Jaemin knows.” He mutters, as if it was of any relevance to the situation.
“Well,” You start, sitting back on your heels, “Here I am shirtless, asking you to fuck me…” His eyes flicker up and lock with yours, “What are you gonna do about it?”
Another challenge.
He did well with challenges, and this time was no different.
You continue, “Unless you believe the ‘only have sex after marriage’ bullshit –”
“Absolutely not.”
Greedy eyes search for an answer on his face, but there’s nothing, only a permanent blush and frantic furrow brows, “Okay, then do you wanna go back to gaming?”
“…No.”
He still isn’t advancing, just sitting with his hands dropped into his lap and looking at you with his wide doe eyes, “Then what?”
You sit there, watching as Haechan fidgets with his hands, clearly nervous about what comes next. The sexual tension that hangs between you two feels like a thick fog. You want him, and you can tell that he wants you too, but the knowledge that he’s a virgin puts a damper on things.
You don't want to be the one to take his virginity. That's a big fucking responsibility, and it's not something that you take lightly. You start to wonder if maybe you should just call it a night and go home. But then Haechan speaks up, his voice barely above a whisper. "I don't want to be a virgin anymore."
His words hit you like a ton of bricks, and you turn to look at him, really look at him for the first time since you arrived. He looks vulnerable, and you can see the fear in his eyes. But you can also see the determination. He knows what he wants, and he's not going to let anything stand in his way.
You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. You know what you want too, but you also know that this is a big deal. You can't just jump into things without thinking them through. "I don't know if I'm the right person for that, Haechan," you say finally. "Taking someone's virginity is a big deal. It's not something to be taken lightly."
Haechan nods, his eyes still locked with yours. "I know. But I trust you, Y/N." His words make your heart skip a beat, and you can feel your cheeks heating up.
"Okay," you say finally. "Okay, we can do this.”
Somehow, the tables had turned on you; and this was getting a lot sappier than you had anticipated.
The awkwardness settles back into the room, Haechan staring at you with his doe eyes, the nervousness flitting about his delicate features.
It’s a beat – a short pause before he speaks so low you almost miss it, “You know I want to fuck you.”
“Then what’s stopping you?”
Maybe he’d give you a logical answer and you’d understand; put your shirt back on and let him get back to his video games while you silently scrolled Instagram.
But when was he ever logical?
And when were you ever one to back down?
Faster than you can register, he’s pushing your shoulders backwards until you fall breathlessly against his pillow. He climbs over top of you, his usual goofy smirk replaced with an intensity you both had felt the night before at the frat house. “Nothing’s stopping me.” His breath tickles your cheeks, “But I can’t tell if you’re fucking serious or taking a joke way too far.” A scoff rumbles in his chest, “I’ve damn near bared my soul to you tonight.”
“Not a joke-” you try to argue, but he talks over you.
“Ya know, just because I’m a virgin doesn’t mean you can treat me like a plaything.” his head lolls to the side, “Well I mean if you wanted to, you could – but that’s not the point..” He sighs, pressing his face closer to yours, so that you were almost nose to nose. One more inch and you’d be kissing him, “I’m trying to say that if this is a joke… I’m sorry, but I’m gonna fuck you.”
“I – Are you sure about this? You won’t regret anything in the morning?”
He scoffs, “Have you not been listening to me when I speak to you? I’ve been wanting this for ages,” Eyes, half-lidded with desire, wash over your exposed chest, “I’m not gonna regret a damn thing.”
The butterflies in your stomach flutter uncontrollably when Haechan dips his head and captures your lips in a kiss. All you can taste is the fizziness of the redbull he’d been drinking earlier, and something undeniably him. It was urgent and wet, lips sliding over yours to deepen the kiss, dribbles of spit smearing on your cheeks. He was messy.
“No regrets.” You solidify, breath hitching in your throat when his hands cup your breasts – his thumbs flicking over your nipples.
He groans, hips desperately pushing against you, “Let me eat you out.” he asks, though it wasn’t really a question because he starts to lower himself down your figure; pressing wet kisses to your chest. First it’s your collarbone, then the swell of your breasts, all the way down until he hovered right above your skirt.
Your head is reeling with how forward he was, “You’re kinda bold for a vir-”
He slaps a rough hand over your jaw, “If you even so much as utter that word, I’ll shove my cock so far down your throat you won’t be able to speak for a week.” Tauntingly, he quirks an eyebrow as if to dare you, “And anyways,” he continues, moving his hand up to ruffle your hair, “Just because I’ve never stuck my dick between a woman’s thighs doesn’t mean I don’t know how to please one.”
It was your turn to raise an eyebrow, in shock or contemplation of his words, you weren’t sure.
“Oh, don’t look at me like that baby,” Lust drips from his words like venom, the pet name rolling off his tongue a little too certainly, “Sitting up here playing video games has made me exceptionally good with my hands,” he smirks, “and I guess I’m naturally good with my tongue… I don’t know, you’ll have to tell me, yeah?”
Furiously, you nod your head, eyes wide and marveling at this side of Haechan. The one slightly out of breath and bursting with the need to taste you. He was hot. More so than you were expecting. You should pay closer attention sometimes.
He doesn’t waste time undoing your skirt. Instead, he pushes it up until it bunched at your waist, and pretty pink panties were the only thing blocking him from doing what he wanted. Hooking his fingers into the waistband, he pulls them down agonizingly slow. “So pretty.” he whispers.
Without hesitation, he flattens his tongue and licks up your slit, a low rumble building in his chest. You tasted exactly like he had imagined.
The contact makes you gasp, and you fumble around for something to hold onto – choosing his hair as the only viable option. One tug and he’s whining against your clit, hips pressing into the bed unbeknownst to you.
“Y-you like hair pulling?” You question, doing it again to test the waters. He doesn’t answer, just groans against your pussy, tongue swirling around the sensitive bundle of nerves. Strong arms hook underneath your hips and pull hard, until you’re sat right up against his face.
“Hyuck.” you whimper, legs shaking. He was relentless, nosing your clit and fucking you with his tongue – all but lapping at the embarrassing amount of arousal wetting the inside of your thighs. “Hyuck!”
He perks up, lips puffy and jaw shining in the dim light of his bedroom,  “What?”
You feel almost shy at his stare, a blush settling over your cheeks and burning hot at the back of your neck, “D-don’t wanna cum just yet.” You stutter out.
Surprisingly, he rolls his eyes, “Let me stretch you out a little bit, okay baby?” There’s no time for you to respond because two of his fingers press against your entrance and slide in with ease. Simultaneously he dives back in, teeth slightly grazing your clit.
“Fuck!” Your back arches up off the bed, hips rolling against his face. His fingers pump into you, the stretch leaving your thighs shaking.
“See baby, all done,” He slips his fingers out and gives you one final suckle, “God, I can’t wait to fuck you.”
Words are unattainable right now, head still reeling from how fucking good he was with his tongue. That’s where he’d gotten the most practice, but you weren’t expecting that. It was what – less than two minutes? Yet you were already fucked out, body buzzing with excitement. If that was just the beginning, what was to come?
While lost in your thoughts, Haechan rid himself of his shirt and shimmied his shorts down.
The video didn’t do him justice.
Yeah, he looked decently big on his phone screen, but after weeks of contemplation, you could only assume it was the angle.
Oh, how wrong you were.
His cock stood thick and heavy, proudly slapping his lower stomach when he moves to throw his clothes on the floor. It was red and leaking pre-cum, and your mouth waters. Oh, how you wanted to hop up and stuff him down your throat. You wanted to milk him until he was shaking and sobbing for you to stop.
But another part wanted him in you, now.
Deep lines of muscle were etched into his torso – contracting when he leant down to kiss you again. You can taste yourself on his lips, but that wasn’t what caught your attention. Haechan was whimpering; all but shaking against you. The vibrations shot straight into your veins like a drug and when he pulls back and sits on his knees, you almost moan.
You are no better than a man.
Watching the way he touches his body, so soft and careful; tugging at his cock impatiently while his eyes are transfixed on the way your pussy clenches around nothing – it sends a desperate signal down between your thighs.
“Enough!” You whine, “Want you in me.”
His trademark smirk appears on his face, “Okay baby… but..,” he chews on his bottom lip in hesitation, “… I don’t know how long I’ll be able to last..”
“I don’t care!” You wail, annoyed, “Fuck me.”
“So demanding,” He huffs, hands fumbling to push your thighs apart. Looking to you for reassurance that everything was alright, he appeared somewhat uncertain and hesitant.
“It’s okay, ” you breathe, gasping when he pushes the head of his cock against your entrance. “Hold my hand!” It was a statement to make him feel surer of himself, but deep down, you knew it was because you were just as nervous.
Shakily, his hand slides into yours and pushes it against the pillow next to your head. He takes a deep breath. This is silly, he chides himself, just stick it in! You’ve been dreaming about this forever! Be a fucking man.
Slowly, he pushes himself fully into you while still maintaining eye contact.
“Fuck!” you both curse at the same time. His eyes flicker in the back of his head, lips trembling when he bottoms out, now sheathed inside your warm cunt. It’s taking everything in him not to cum right there – and you know it too. He stays like that for a minute longer – not moving, just processing.
“Hyuck…” You whimper, resting your legs on his back. He mumbles a mhm, too focused on steadying his breathing, getting his bearings, finding the will to actually fuck you. “Hyuck, you have to move.”
“M-maybe we should use a c-condom.” He stutters, eyelashes fluttering and tangling together. The interlocked grip on your hands falters when you rut your hips up against him. “F-fuck, we need to use a condom.” His breathing is labored as he tries to gather everything he’s feeling and seeing at once. The way your pussy sucks him in, squeezing around his length just fucking right, the feeling of your nipples brushing his chest every time he bottoms out, and the wet kisses being pressed to the juncture between his neck and collarbone. It was making his head dizzy, and he can feel himself already about to – “I’m gonna cum if you keep, fuck – y/n, stop kissing my n-neck.”
Lost in the satisfying pleasure of him stretching you out, you hadn’t even realized you were kissing him – everywhere. Licking at the place just below his earlobe, suckling bruises into the honey gold skin of his throat, and nipping at his jaw. And every time your lips or tongue grazed him, he shallowly thrusted into you – too caught up in the sensations to get a steady rhythm.
You purse your lips in a pout, pulling your head back to rest on the pillow, and stare up at him, “Why stop if you like it.”
“Good p-point.” He stutters out, burying his head into the crook of your neck. Maybe that would hide the pink tinging his cheeks – the embarrassment. Or maybe it was because he wanted to be enveloped by you completely. “Fuck,” He groans, his cock dragging against your walls with a concentrated pace – like he wanted you to feel every inch of him. And if that was the case, he was succeeding. 
You mewl and moan every time he slips out of you, just to fuck into you deeper than before. Time doesn’t pass, you don’t register anything but the burning sensation in the pit of your stomach – one that catches you off guard. As you arch your body into his touch, your mind begins to cloud.
Words of praise spill from your lips uncontrollably, "You're doing so well," you murmur, and he whimpers. “So good Hyuckie,” You moan, feeling his head still buried in your neck. “Keep going, baby.” The encouragement rips a broken sob from his throat, but he keeps driving his cock between your legs. He couldn’t stop – how could he? You were like his own personal brand of heroin.
His voice comes out muffled when speaks, “Want you to- fuck.. need you to...” His fingers are trembling, jaw slacked as he forgets his train of thought, “Slow down, wait – I need you to, y/n.. oh fuck this.” a rush of air tickles your body as Haechan tightens his hold and flips you over; worming his way underneath your body so that your legs were now slotted over his waist, cock still pushing into you. “There we go,” he mutters.
The action sends your head spinning, and a squeal rips from your throat. “Woah!”
“Woah!” he mocks, bullying his cock into you at such a fast pace, you were battling to keep your balance. His hands held onto your hips so tightly, there were bound to be a few fingerprint shaped bruises tomorrow morning. But that didn’t matter – not when he was burying his length into you again and again and again, abusing your g-spot to the point you’re babbling nonsense.
Your thighs are quivering on either side of him, struggling to keep yourself bouncing on his cock. Equally shaky hands pepper his chest in an attempt to hold onto something as the fire in your stomach burns hotter. Every whimper, every sob, every moan that falls past his lips is like another burning ember – shooting and twisting through your veins.
“G-gonna cum, Hyuck, gonna – “ you mewl, clawing at his collarbones and shoulders.
A harsh slap lands on your ass as he continues to piston his hips up underneath you. Just hearing you say the words edges him even closer to his own orgasm, “Please baby, cum – shit, cum on my cock, you can do it.” He groans through gritted teeth. Another smack lands, “God, I know you can do it.”
Your eyes roll back as you completely fall apart – he never stopped fucking into you. Not even when you all but collapsed on top of him, heartbeat erratic and gasping for breath. Not even when you begged him to slow down, begged him to give you a chance to recover, maybe get into a different position.
“Just give me one second baby, fuck, I still need to cum,” Like a lightbulb went off, he perks, “Wait- where do you want me t-to cum,” He’s rocking his body into yours now, sweat rolling down his temple with the exertion of holding back. “An-Answer! I can’t hold it anymore you feel too fucking good.”
Swirled in your own euphoria, you barely register his words, yet you manage to whimper against his neck, “Cum in me Hyuckie, please, I’m on the pill.”
The permission is all he needs, but the nickname is what sends him straight into a head high that has him burying his cock deep in you and releasing. Strong arms wrap around your torso and pull you against his shaking body while spurts of cum flood your pussy. He sounds exactly like he did in the video he showed you a few weeks ago – like he was sobbing with relief. Whining and whimpering, lolling his head side to side as he fucks the last of his cum deep into you.
He tries not to move, he tries really fucking hard, but every time you twitched, it squeezed around him again and again – curses flying from his body as he tried to squirm away. He slips out of you quickly, cum smearing on his belly and all over your thighs, “That was…”
You can hear his heartbeat – almost as erratic as yours is, and he’s puffing air, trying to catch an even breath. Both of you are sticky and tired – worn the fuck out. If you tried to push yourself off of him, you think you might topple over, so you don’t. You stay locked in his embrace, listening to the way his breathing slows and chest thumps.
“That was what?”
He runs a hand through his hair, “Everything I’ve dreamt of.”
Giggling, you snuggle closer to him. Who knew he’d be the type to sweet talk after sex. With how much he boasted and teased, you thought he’d be more… you don’t know… arrogant? You liked this side of him though.
Ah, shut up! you think to yourself, you’re not falling in love with him, so stop.
Haechan was a friend no matter if he did just fuck your brains out.
“Gonna go to the bathroom.” you mumble. Anything to get away from him and the swirls of ooey-gooey feelings.  
Clambering off of him proved to be easier than you thought earlier, and the wobble to the bathroom was only slightly embarrassing. You thank God for privacy when you shut the door behind you.
As you look at your reflection in the mirror, you realize how much of a mess you are. Your hair is disheveled, mascara smudged and streaking, and your lipstick is smeared. Dark colored hickies scattered across your chest and collarbones. Despite this, you feel satisfied and content (Regardless of any stupid feelings that might be lingering).
Yet if Hyuck were to sneak in the bathroom behind you and beg for another round, you’d give it to him, no matter if the original challenge was a one and done kind of deal.
Your eyes widen into saucers… the challenge.
It was actually done – or at least partially.
You smirk.
Challenge 1/3 complete.
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Maybe you should have stayed the night, but you were gone before the sun peeked over the tree line.
Haechan was still faintly snoring when you had slipped out from underneath the covers, and he only slightly stirred when you accidentally banged your toe on his gaming chair. His parted lips, and tinged cheeks made him look like an innocent angel.
One that you corrupted.
As you hurriedly walk back to your dorm building, you can’t help but feel a little bit of guilt fluttering about your stomach.
“Was this really a one-time thing?” he had asked right before his eyes had fluttered closed.
You had sighed, fidgeting with a thread on his comforter, “I don’t know Hyuck… maybe… I – I don’t want to ruin our friendship.”
Perhaps his shoulders had deflated with disappointment at your response, but you’d like to think he was just tired.
“Okay, let’s pretend it never happened then. Everything can go back to normal and… and if you want, I’ll be here to satisfy you again.” He had grinned then, although rather grim.
“Deal.”
You shoulder your dorm door and drop your bag on the kitchen table before grabbing a water out of the fridge. Thirstily gulping, you realize that even though it was his first time, he knew how to wear you out.
Points for that, you think.
You quietly slip into your room and take a seat at your desk after tossing the crushed plastic bottle into the trashcan. This is the moment you've been waiting for - a chance to rate the very first boy in the challenge. You grab a stray notebook from a stack nearby, open it to a fresh page, and begin.
Points for doing good his first time…Points for multiple positions…Points for eating you out first…Points for being whiny…Points for being eager…
There wasn’t really a system for your rating, but you take a satisfied look at the number and nod your head.
Congratulation Hyuck, you’ve received a 7.4/10, you think.
Despite it being his first time, he did exceptionally well. Who else could have lasted as long as he did, said the things he did, or fucked the way he did. Slowly, you find yourself slipping back into the memories, a play-by-play from start to finish – until a ping from your pocket drags you out.
Your heart leaps up in your throat.
What if it was him? What if he was asking why you left?
When you pull your phone out from your back pocket, you sigh in relief. It was just Jaemin.
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You toss your phone onto your desk and slump against the chair. Jaemin didn’t press the question of why you were up… and hopefully he didn’t say anything during breakfast.
Pushing yourself upright, you dance through the laundry strewn across your floor and into the bathroom.
Despite what you said, you also had to wash the sex smell away. God, you were becoming just like Jaemin. Up at the ass crack of dawn to shower off cum and sweat and spit. Unexpectedly, you grip the shower curtain as a thought bounces around the inside of your skull.
Na Jaemin was just getting his dick wet… with Yeji, of all people. One of his recurring fwb situations.. But.. he was fucking her.
The video he had showed you the first night flashes through your brain. His cock thick and proud, pushing into the girl so fluidly, so rhythmically, so intensely. Until she squirted and he laughed. He had fucking laughed. You remember what he had said, “God you’re so fucking hot. NaNa did that, didn’t he? Mhm…come here pretty girl.”
And even though Haechan had pounded you into the next week, you feel yourself clenching around nothing.
Don’t worry Jaemin, your turn is next.
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A. NOTE | big thank you to lou, @peachjaem00, for helping me get over my writers block for this fic.. and for just being fucking awesome! i love you <3
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madamechrissy · 2 months
Text
♡ Time after Time ♡
♡ ♡ Pairings ♡ ♡ CEO! Satoru Gojo x Fem Reader
♡ ♡ Warnings ♡ ♡ MDNI- Fingering, thigh riding, cumming dirty talk, nudity, Gojo less of a dick finally lol
♡ ♡ Word Count ♡ ♡ 5,074
♡ ♡ Summary ♡ ♡ Gojo Satoru is your boss And you've been his head assistant for over two years now. You do everything for him, including and not limited to cleaning his messes, picking out his clothes, and writing his speeches. Sixteen hour days... night calls... You are tired of being overworked and at his beck and call. You decide you are going to put in your two weeks notice. He is shocked, and wants to try to keep you, because you're the best. But you know better. Right? . You really wanna fucking quit. You also wanna fuck him. Also, fuck him.
Chapter 3
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Chapter 4
As the first rays of dawn gently illuminate the little cabin, you stir from sleep. Your body is enveloped in a warm, hard embrace, and you feel so safe. Blinking the sleep out of your eyes, you are met with the sight of Gojo next to you. Peaceful, almost innocent looking, nothing like the devious little shit you usually saw. You sigh, and have to admit to yourself he’s just gorgeous.
His silver hair cascading over his forehead, sculpted features relaxed, full lips ever so parted. A surge of warmth and desire courses through you as you realize the full extent of your situation. You are trapped beneath his weight, his strong arms holding you securely in place. You try to wriggle free, but his grip is strong, he’s super heavy for as slender as he looks.
Giving up, you start to enjoy the embrace, enjoy looking at him like this. Literally perfection just sleeping against you. You start to understand the numerous girls in his bed, you couldn’t blame them at all. You brush some of his silky hair back, sighing and studying the man you’d been all too eager to run away from just the other day. Now, something was different.
But was it different?
Or was Gojo that attractive that he just fucked your head up?
You’d had to work yesterday after all. But… was it so bad? You start to think of his words in the Limo. Would you have a life, friends, a boyfriend… you have to wonder if you just lived to work. And Gojo used it to his advantage. Had you not been so eager to do everything, after all, he may have not taken such an advantage. You always wanted to be the best and you were.
But you were exhausted, and that wasn’t going away. Though, you had to admit, the sleep you just got was absolutely amazing. Gojo indeed was the best cuddler… there was no doubt about it. Though you had nothing to go off, you certainly knew it was top tier. The way he held you… did things. Gojo did things. Things you had put aside, to focus, to be professional.
Your fingers trace down his jaw, sharp, refined, relaxed just so. His breathing is steady against you as his arms tighten. You resist the urge to kiss him, straddle him, do things you should not want. Instead, you kiss his forehead, sweetly, thinking he looked like he needed one then.
What was he doing to you?
His hands gripped your shoulders, then, and you froze, realizing he had woken up. You peek down, removing your lips, and there is a playful glimmer in the azure depths of his gaze, a little smirk on the mouth that had been relaxed before. You feel yourself flush in embarrassment, looking down.
“Taking advantage of me as I sleep? Hmm maybe that’s your kink. Somnophilia.” Gojo taps your lips with a low chuckle, yanking you on top of him. Your hands are on his strong, bare chest, and his leg is between your thighs.
“I was not doing anything pervy! God!” You wiggle a bit, trying to get out of the strong embrace, but he just yanks you closer against him. Your sensitive aching pussy against his thigh felt far too good. You bite your lip against the sensation, and he takes your chin between his thumb and forefinger.
“I am just teasing you. That was actually pretty cute.” He kisses your forehead, then, and you sigh a bit. “Don’t think I’ve done that. Weird.”
“Kissed a forehead?” You ask incredulously. He shrugs, contemplative look on his face.
“Not that I can think of. I’ve kissed damn near every part of a woman, but I don’t think that one has come into play.”
“You just looked… peaceful and cute. Unlike now, looking like a devious bastard again.” You glare, and he chuckles.
“I’m cute hmm? Not words I think describe me. Handsome, gorgeous, sexy… all those.”
“You’re cute when you sleep. When you aren’t running that mouth of yours.”
“Same.” You two looked at each other then. “You snore, though.”
“Do not!”
“Do too.”
“Lies.”
“How do you even know? You literally can’t tell. You’re asleep, silly.” You sigh, grinning.
“You have a point. You don’t snore.”
“I know, I’m perfect. We can’t all be, baby girl.” Gojo pats your head, brushing your cascading hair back with a grin.
“You’re a perfect looking asshole.”
“But I am perfect looking?” He gives you a wink.
“Ugh.” You lean up a bit. “What was that shit you were talking about, somno what now?”
“Oh, you sweet summer child.” He tuts his mouth, damn devious features back once more. “It’s when your kink is sleeping people.”
Your eyes open wide. “Like you want them to stay asleep? And… like fuck them?”
“Mmhmm. It’s a thing.”
“You know all these kinks hmm?”
“It comes with experience.” Gojo’s hands trail down your bare arms, making goosebumps follow in their path. You tremble.
“Are you into that?” You ask, curious about this man that you should really know more about. He shakes his head.
“It’s not my thing, no. But I’ve done it on request. Just didn’t care for it too much. I really enjoy every. Little. Movement.” He watches you tremble as his lips near yours. “Every. Sound.” He kissed you in between the words, and you moan softly into his lips. “And especially the look on your face.”
“My face?” Your brows furrow in confusion, as your lips part in desire. Gojo grins at you, hands on your hips now, pressing you down. You grow embarrassed, knowing that you’re hot and wet against his thigh. “Not their faces?”
“Your face is very pretty. Even when you scowl like a bitch.” You huff at that, but he lifts his leg, and you gasp, every instinct in you telling you to grind on him. But you couldn’t act that feral… “But so pretty when you want me. And, you do want me, you need to stop lying.”
“I… fuck it. It doesn’t… change that I…”
“That you want to quit. I know. Shut it on that and tell me what you feel.” He consumes your mouth, tongue swirling, his teeth nipping, and fuck if he didn’t taste good even waking up. Smelled good. Felt good. Desire starts shooting through your body, down your tummy, between your thighs. He pulls back. “How do you feel right now? Use your words.”
You take a shaky breath, blinking rapidly, disoriented from him. “I feel so overwhelmed. It’s like I need something. And I don’t know what. I’m not experienced like you I don’t really-”
“Not so many words.” He kissed you again. “You want me. Say that.”
“Unh.” He moves against you, and that’s the only sound your brain could fathom. Gojo looks amused.
“Say it. You’re even soaking my sweats.” His hands gently slide down your back, landing on your backside, squeezing as he pressed up again, sensations making your pussy pulse, feeling it start to get hot and sticky against the shorts you wore.
“What does it change, Satoru?”
“It doesn’t have to change shit. Just say it. Say it and I’ll give it to you.”
“Thought I had to beg.” You mumble, starting to rub against him, crying out as his hands gripped your ass hard, letting you ride his thigh, his own heart in his chest pounding against you.
“You will beg.” He flipped on top of you, then, lips overtaking you, making you heady, your hands sliding up into his hair, pulling. He moaned into your lips. “Say you want me. No. Say you need me.”
“Fuck you.” You arch your back as his hand yanks off your shirt, baring your breasts to him. His eyes hit them like a hawk.
He played with your nipple, swirling his finger around it, studying your every expression. “Don’t you want to stop hurting, brat?”
“Yes.” You had tears prick your eyes when his big hand goes down your trembling tummy, finding your clit like an expert, throbbing against his hand. Your hips buck up as pleasure shoots through your body.
“Then ask me. Ask me to get your little pussy off.” Gojo slides a finger down, to your entrance, just a tip in, and at that you cry out so loud it was embarrassing. Gojo’s brows raise up, an arm braced on one side of you, his hair falling. “Very, very little pussy.”
You blush, your chest heaving, then. “Satoru, please.”
“Please what? Want me to stretch her?” He hissed the words, and you nodded fervently. “Say it, then.”
“Please get me off. Please.” You had no shame anymore, as your nails dig into his arm, urging him on, wishing he’d slip more inside of you. Gojo stayed there, smirking at you. “Oh God, I said please, jerk!”
“Say you want me to stretch her out.” He slid a little more in, and you wanted more, so much more.
“Stretch me out, Gojo. I want you to.” You yank him down, kissing him, slippery and wet when his finger hits all the way inside, long, filling you, stretching you. You’re blinded when he moves his finger up, hitting a spot that makes you see stars. Your back arches, and he studies you.
“Fuck you’re tight.” He groans, arching his elbow a certain way and striking even deeper, you started to wriggle under him, so wet it was embarrassing, pussy pulsing around his finger that moved up and down. “Can you even take two, little brat?”
“I don’t even know. Yes? Try it. Fuck.” You feel him chuckle against your lips, and he leans back, yanking your shorts down fully, and you’re naked in front of him, bare, blue eyes raking the sight in. His soft lips kiss your waist, and he takes his finger out, probing in with two fingertips, stretching and pulling your delicate skin. He bit you right by your rib, pressing further.
“You’re so fucking small.” One hand cupped your breast while the other pushed in further, just to the first knuckle, arching his fingers up and down, hurting slightly.
They continued, every so often pressing further, using the wetness, pulling it out and swirling it, before sliding in deep finally. You buck up off the bed as he fills you, the pressure rough to handle, your body torn between thinking it was too much and wanting even more of him.
“You okay, baby girl?” He asked softly, pausing his fingers movement, brows knitted together. You nod. Gojo made you feel so much then, starting to fuck you with both of his fingers, so thick and deep, stretching you, pushing you to your limits, all while he watched you with his gorgeous fucking eyes.
God you wanted him.
You felt pressure start to build, body on fire for his touch, hitting so hard, spots you’d never known were even fucking there, and he played you so well, like you were an instrument he’d mastered. He leaned up, then, his other hand finding your clit, and that was too much. You started to feel your breath quicken, your hands clutching the crisp sheets beneath you, your entire body shaking.
“You’re doing such a good job. Taking them so well. So wet for me.” Gojo purred the words at you, and you’d have done anything for it then, for his touch, for his words. “Do you want to come on my fingers, baby?”
“Yes. Yes please, Satoru please.” You panted the words, and he dug in deep, finding that spot in you, making everything go black as the pleasure built and built till you couldn’t take any more.
“Then come.”
Nothing could stop you anyway. Your scream rings out and echoes in the tiny room, you cover your own mouth as pleasure flows, riding your climax, biting your hand, but nothing muffled your cries. Everything went black with stars, pussy throbbing around his fingers, your wetness seeping out, making them fuck you easier. Gojo came back into focus, an expression you hadn't seen, studying you, watching you fall apart.
“Fucking beautiful when you come.” He whispered, easing his fingers out, glistening with your juices, sucking them and closing his eyes.
“Holy Fuck.” Your chest heaved and your legs twitched embarrassingly, after shocks hitting watching him. He kissed you, then, and you tasted your desire, tongues swirling, panting into his mouth.
“You taste so good.” Gojo whispered the words, you flushed. “Has anyone eaten you out?” 
You shake your head. “The only… things I've done is like getting fingered then they just kinda did it. And then it sucked. So I kinda just never tried again.”
“No one has eaten this pretty pussy, hmm? That's a shame for them. But kinda fucking hot to know for me.” He kissed your forehead, brushing your hair back. “Do you want me to?”
You nod, embarrassed, into his neck, kissing it. “If you want to? But I'm kind of beat right now. That was intense.”
“Oh man, that's just the very beginning of it.” You blink. “My tongue is even better than these.”
Gojo ran his fingers over your cunt again and you shiver, whining, aching and sore. “Better than that? How?”
He laughed. “You're so innocent it's pretty fucking cute.”
“Not innocent.”
“You really are. Okay. I'll show you when you're recovered.” He snorted at that and you giggled.
“I haven't ever had an orgasm by anyone… just my vibrator. And that was different. It was ridiculous. You're… goddammit you're really good at it.”
“Told you so. Bratty thing that you are didn't believe me.” He kissed you and your hands trembled, trailing down, finding him hard, making him groan, stopping you.
“Don't you want me to return it?” You frown. Curiously trying to move your touch against his hard cock still in their sweatpants. He was all dressed and you were naked you noticed.
“If you touch me I won't be able to stop myself from burying my cock in that tight little fucking cunt of yours. Are you ready for that just yet?”
“Fuck.” Gojo had you dripping wet again. The grip on your wrist just made you hornier.
“I'll take things at your pace, my cute little nun.”
“Fuck off ugh. Not a nun.”
“You can hardly take my fingers, so I don't know if you're ready for all this.” He put your hand on him fully then, and your eyes widened, mouth open.
“Oh! Oh…” He was fucking huge. Jesus.
“Mmhmm.”
“You're like a monster.” He snorted, shaking his head.
“It won't be like whatever college dick you had.”
“I was so drunk I don't remember much. But yeah your fingers are bigger.”
“Are you serious?” You nod, flushed. “Oh man. Okay. So virgin nun theory is back. You are so sweet right now too, see. Orgasms and cuddles. Dr. Gojo to the rescue.”
You sigh. “Maybe you're a little right, but it could be orgasm brain talking.”
“See? You can just stay working and I'll get you off whenever I push you too hard. Win win!”
“Oh gosh! No. You're ridiculous.”
“You mean amazing?”
“Your head is so big it's amazing you fit through doors.”
“And my dick.”
You roll your eyes. He's right. Gojo kisses your forehead again. It makes your eyes flutter shut in bliss. “You like that now, do you?”
“With you, yeah.” He flushed himself a bit. Your eyes locked and somehow a forehead kiss was as intimate as his fingers had been in you.
“I like it too.” Your voice was husky, filled with longing, as if you stupidly wanted more than you know could happen.
Fuck.
“Food?” Gojo sat up, sliding up your shorts and putting on your shirt. Change of subject. Well fuck it. Maybe that was a good thing.
“Yes, please.” Your tummy growled as you spoke and you became embarrassed.
“It works up an appetite.” He shot you a wink. “You do blush all over by the way.”
“Satoru!”
“Let's get food.” You sighed, nodding, and taking his hands to help you up. Your legs were jello. He had to hold you up, and was grinning devilishly. “You're just falling for me all the time.”
“Oh shut it.”
“I’ve never been inside of here. Weird.” Gojo mused as you all walked into your apartment a little later on. You flicked on your lights, the LEDs you had hung up illuminating the comfy living room a vibrant purple along with the main lighting of the ceiling. It was simple but cute and spacious, your little hide away.
“You can set the food right there.” You nudge your head to the little dining area you had, one that had not been used in ages. You never had company.
“Gotcha.” Gojo laid out the take out bag on your little black table, blue eyes behind his shades cooly taking in his surroundings. “Kinda small for your paycheck though.”
You scowled as you walked past him to grab a couple of plates and forks. “It’s really cute and nice here. It’s just me.”
“Hmm. Don’t you send money to your family back home or something?”
“How do you know that…” You help Gojo get out the yummy chicken and rice you all had snatched up, along with decadent looking sushi.
“I’ve heard you talk about it.” He shrugged a broad shoulder, before going to your fridge and opening it wide. “Any drinks?”
“I have beer at the bottom.” Gojo snatched two out, opening them with his hand and shirt with ease. He handed you one. “Thank you!”
“Mmhmm. Yeah I figured you sent it to your parents or whatever.” Gojo sat across from you then, and you tensed, chest tight, your eyes pricking with emotion. He snatched up chopsticks, popping one into his mouth, studying you.
“No.” You managed to breathe out the words, sighing and sipping the cold dark lager, not knowing how to say it.
“You okay?” He asked, tilting his head. You felt your chest swell then, emotion you long held fighting to the surface, breath quickening. “Hey.” Gojo frowned, taking your hand, then.
“S-sorry.” You turned your head away, taking shaky breaths, hating how you now of all times feel like crying. Not now. Not in front of him.
“Did I say something stupid? I do that. I’m-”
“No, no.” You sigh, swiping little errant tears before turning back to look at him. “You don’t know, it’s okay. My parents died when I was in high school.”
Gojo’s brows drew together, hand tensing on yours, so tight it squeezed your own hard, jaw tensing. “Shit.”
“Yeah. I was seventeen. Car crash.” You take another sip. “I’m sorry I usually don’t get emotional, it’s been almost a decade. I don’t know if I’m just exhausted or what but I don’t cry about it anymore.”
“Why not cry? That’s horrible and fucking sad.” He sighed, loosening his hold a bit. “How do I not know?”
“We never talked about personal things. You’re my boss.” You enjoy his touch, his presence, more than you want to. “It’s fine really. But I send money to my little brothers.”
“Oh.” He gave a little nod, clearing his throat and leaning back. “I’m shit at emotional things. But I am sorry.”
“You’re doing fine.” You took his hand back, smiling. “I don’t talk about them much. I probably should but… I just don’t anymore.”
“But they’re grown now right? Your brothers.”
“They are, and they tell me not to send stuff. Lately I haven’t been. But I feel like as the oldest it’s on me to care in some way, and I live really far.”
“That's really sweet.” Gojo cleared his throat, looking around a bit at your kitchen, decked out in pink everything. He grinned. “This isn’t how I pictured it.”
“You pictured it?”
“Mmm… yeah. I figured your place was boring and crazy clean. But it’s actually unique and cozy.”
“Well thanks I think. And yes I do like pink.” You giggled.
“Eat.” He started making you a plate.
“Thank you. This is… it’s nice.” Fuck it was nice. Gojo in your kitchen, across from you. How was that a thing?
“I am nice to look at aren’t I.” He shot you a wink, and some of the darkness faded, easing the tension. You smirked, popping sushi into your mouth. “You are good at chopsticks for an American.”
“We use them there for these kinds of things you know. I was a regular at the local chinese restaurants. Especially during college.” You chewed thoughtfully, and Gojo’s long legs brushed yours under the table.
“Why not stay in law?”
“You’re inquisitive today.”
“We said we’d get to know each other. Yeah?” You nod. “So why was a bright law student with a 4.2 GPA not practicing.”
“You know my GPA?” He grinned. “Well shit I guess it was on the resume. I tried, I did, but I couldn’t handle some of the shit I saw. I was working a bit with children and… yeah no. I came here and decided I’d try something else. New life.”
“That makes sense, that would be fucking horrible.” Gojo popped another piece into his mouth, chewing and continuing to study you. “I think I had you pegged for a spoiled bitch with rich parents. I’m way off huh.”
Your eyes widened. “I mean yeah. My parents left us nothing, they were too young to have thought of it of course. And my grandparents took care of my brothers. I got into college young so I just lived at the dorm and threw myself into my studies… but never got anything from anyone.”
“Self made bitch.”
You laughed. “I guess.”
“All right, so give me the tour.” Gojo stood holding his hand out. You took it, standing with his help, snatching up your beer.
“Okay, it’s not much.” You take him through the living room, to your little office room, which you rarely used. It just had a little computer and a desk with some pretty paintings you’d acquired.
Next was your room, which was quite different from the rest, decked out in posters and pictures everywhere, everything uniquely you. Stuffed animals and numerous pillows decked out your little daybed, covered in pink silky sheets and your plush white comforter. Gojo ran his fingers along your white dresser, pausing as he looked to your mirror.
Shit.
“Is that… is that me and you?” He pulled off the little picture you had of you and him slid into the crook of your mirror.
“Fuck.” You grumbled, sitting on your bed with a huff. He turned incredulously, snatching off his glasses, blue eyes wide and twinkling as his grin appeared.
“Is this the selfie I took with you when you got hired?”
“Ugh. Yeah.” You covered your head in your hands.
“I’m so beautiful you decided to have me printed. Aww! You’re so cute, little nun.” Gojo came and patted your head. You scowled, yanking the pic and sighing, looking at the two of you. Gojo had grinned and thrown a peace sign. You were all pink and smiley like a schoolgirl.
“It’s not that…”
“Liar.” He took it back, studying it. “You look different. Super happy.”
“I was. Happiest day I have had.”
He frowned, looking down at you. “How the fuck?”
“It was like a dream. You were bright like the fucking sun. I can’t explain but meeting you was a lot. And yeah…”
He sat next to you, quiet, handing you the photo. “Have I made you so sad and miserable since?”
“No. I am just exhausted, Gojo. All the time. I’m not miserable.”
“Not happy like that.” His thumb caressed the photo, as it rested in your hands, hands that trembled.
“No but that’s why it’s there. To remind me of a happy time. That sounds super fucking corny.”
“It does.” He gently brushed your hair back. His phone started ringing in his pocket, he took it out and frowned.
“Work shit?”
“Mmhmm. We have that fancy dinner speech award shit.”
“Your award ceremony?” You chuckled at how he put things.
“Yeah. My mom is writing to me about it, wanting to know who I’m bringing and making sure it’s not a ‘scandalous woman’ again. Because that’s in poor taste.” He rolled his eyes. You grinned.
“I see. That eliminates all your women.”
“Not you.” He looked at you, brows raised.
“I’m not one of your harem.”
“Exactly. You’re respectable and shit. Mom would love you. Yep, you’re gonna be my date.”
“Gojo… won’t people get the wrong idea if I am again two events in a row?” You ask cautiously. He leaned closer to you, too close.
“What idea? That I fuck you in my office.” He put vivid images of you on his desk in your mind.
“Shut it.” You shove at his chest. “No, that we’re dating or something.”
“So what if they think that? It would look good for me.”
“I’m not gonna be your pretend girlfriiend for you to go fuck randoms. You ask too much.” You grimaced as the thoughts of him and others started to confuse you. A feeling you didn’t wanna touch.
“Are you jealous?” He touched your chin, eyes intense, hard to even look at without melting. “You want me all to yourself already?”
“I didn’t say anything like that.” You sighed, looking away. “Just wouldn’t be a good position for me.”
“I know so many positions you’d look great in.” His other hand slid up your bare thigh. You trembled. “On your knees with that ass in the air for one.”
“Fuck off.” You scowl then, standing, trying to get your bearings. “You don’t even know what you want. Last week you didn’t even find me attractive. Ah!”
Gojo yanked you, pressed against you hard. “I always found you attractive.”
“That's bull.”
“You were gorgeous when I met you, just you seemed… pure.”
“It changes nothing.”
“Still so eager to leave?” You nod, but you don’t mean it fully. “Liar.”
“Am not.”
“Think about going, it’s next week. Okay?”
“I’ll think about it.” You sigh, and he kisses your neck, hands strong against your soft tummy, it trembles.
“Mom would like you. She’s also scary.” You elbowed him, and he huffed, cussing and letting you go. “Yep she’ll love you. Evil loves evil.”
“Fuck you.” You were laughing though.
“Would your parents have…” He trailed off. You froze, turning to face him, leaning your head back. He looked away, hand awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck now.
“Would they…”
“I’m tired. I should go.” He sighed, and literally started walking out. You blinked for a moment, before following him.
“Hey!” You called out, he was literally grabbing his wallet off the table, about to walk out of the apartment. Gojo paused. “Is everything okay?”
“It’s fine.” His voice was gruff, short. You touched his back, and he tensed even further.
“Wait. Let me get out of these. Can you stay just a minute?” You thought of some reason to keep him, deep in that brain you knew it was only that. You were curious about him. Confused.
“Yeah go ahead.” He was so serious, it threw you off. You ran back to your room, sliding on a little pink skirt and black tank, taking off Gojos’ clothes. You walked back out, half expecting him to be gone, but he stood there, hands in his pockets, leaning back against the wall.
“Here! And thank you.” You held out the clothes, coming close to him, hating how sad he looked. “Satoru…”
“Hmm.” He looked down at you. You took a little breath.
“My parents would have liked you.” His lips parted, and you stood there, hands touching under the folded clothes. “My parents were so funny. Dad was like some stand up comedian. So I know you would have gotten along. You always make everyone laugh around you.”
Gojo flushed, clearing his throat nervously. “It was a stupid question.”
“Not for me. Thank you for having me think of them today. I push them out of my mind because it hurts. But I needed to.” You took a breath for courage, sliding closer, till you were against him. He sat your clothes down on the side table, taking you in his arms then.
“I feel like I fucked it up. Your day. Your life. You were really fucking happy in that damn photo.”
“Not at all, no. I just… I work alot and I’m tired.” You tiptoed, feeling things you thought you never would for this man. He took your face in his hands, bending down as you leaned up.
“They’d like me huh.”
“For sure. They always said I was too serious of a child.” You smiled at the memory, a little tear pricking your eyes. “I am kinda a stuck up bitch huh.”
“A little bit.” Your lips meet softly, and something seems different. It was soft, sweet, not intense or passionate. He pulled back with a little smirk. “You kissed me, that time.”
“Shit I did. It must be that beer.” You teased, he shook his head with a chuckle.
“That much of a lightweight hmm?”
“Yep.” You kissed him again, yanking him down by his shirt, hating how your body reacted. “We’ll go to work tomorrow and be all back to business you know.”
“Nah. You’ll be begging me for another orgasm at like noon.”
“Whatever, will not!” You stepped back, rolling your eyes. He seemed amused again, and no longer… whatever that mood was.
“Bet you do. Please.”
“Get out. Bye.” You shove him, and he laughs, sauntering out. You peek at his clothes, running out to the hall. “Hey! You want me to wash them first or something?” You asked. He didn’t turn around, just leaned his head a bit.
“Nah. Keep em. They’re cute on you.” You flushed, snuggling the damn clothes like a lovesick fool. Fucking hell. “See ya.” He shot out two fingers, and walked out the hallway, leaving you more confused than ever.
What even was that?
You looked at Gojos clothes, bringing them to your room, popping them on your dresser. You put your picture back in its spot.
Just how would work go…
When you wanted to find out just how good his tongue was.
“Ugh!” You flop on your bed, sighing into your pillow.
Chapter 5
Ao3 chap:
https://archiveofourown.org/works/55424137/chapters/140901502
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whiskeyghoul · 3 months
Text
7 || She blinded me with science || [Spencer Reid x Goth!Reader]
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First part, Previous part, Next part
A/N: Okay this is mostly just fluff to lead up to more things. Anyways, reader getting out of the lab dungeon! Yay! Also Spencer is definitely the type of person to get overwhelmed by feelings and get too into his head with everything. So here is a chapter of just the inner musing of the ‘oh my god I am going too fast.’ and ‘I really want to do more with them. What if I scare them off.’ type of things. Because he already realized his feelings but he is too blinded by them to see yours. Not proof read once again oops.
WC: 3 K
Tags: Fluff, just pure fluff, idiots in love, mentions of things from the past, reminiscing.
Warnings: None.
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Spencer POV
Spencer had decided that he’d finish the week by staying home. So when he arrived at Quantico on Monday morning, two coffees in hand, he felt refreshed in a weird way. Where at the start of the week before he had felt terrible, tired, aching. Now he had a slight lightness in his step. The satchel hanging off of his shoulder was heavy, filled with his paperwork that he had done at home. He had spent that Friday actually working on it, feeling better than he had before that.
When you had come over that last Thursday, he had listened to your apology. Realizing how much of an impact on your life your ex had. He just hoped that it was over now. Because when he thought about you, being hurt, stalked. It made something inside him so angry. That when you had sat across from him at his dining table he just wanted you to stay close to him forever. So that he could be the one to keep an eye on you. It felt possessive. Which he hadn’t felt before. Not about a person at least.
About his favorite book, yes. Or his personal mug. About the chess set he had gotten from his mother years ago. Yet you were the first person to stir up similar feelings inside of him. He had almost even invited you to stay over that night. Which was moving way too fast considering you had just hurt his feelings immensely about a week before. Yet seeing you, in that big ragged hoodie, completely disheveled, vulnerable. He needed you close. He also wanted to kick Tommy in the teeth if he ever ran into him. For hurting you. For being a dick. He’d never felt like intentionally hurting someone like that. But you did something to him.
Spencer walked to the frosted glass door, knocking quickly before stepping in. He watched as you sat up at your desk, eyes meeting him, your concentrated frown turned to a smile. The way the crease in your brown relaxed at the sight of him made his heart still for a moment. He hadn’t thought that the sight of him was enough to make you smile. Wanting to immerse himself in that feeling. If only for a moment. “Morning Spencer.” Your voice was chipper that morning. He noted you looked put together, happy, carefree. Though that is what getting rid of a stalker usually does. He walked over, knowing he couldn’t stay long but wanting to spend as much time with you as he could.
“Good morning.” He returned with a smile, handing over the coffee that had kept his hand warm on his walk up. You gladly took it, taking an immediate sip. “You are a godsend.” You spoke with a smile after placing the cup down. “Because of the coffee or is there another reason for this compliment?” He asked, an amused smile playing on his lips as he took off the purple scarf he had worn on his way over. Draping it over the back of one of the desk chairs. “Both. I couldn’t get coffee this morning, I was in a rush since I got new evidence in.” You said, and got up from your chair, ready to show him whatever you got in. “Look, this is so interesting, they found a butt load of money on the victim. It was found at the crime scene, there was powder that could either be used for tracing or could be some drugs. Maybe it’s cocaine, maybe it is a poison absorbed through the skin.” You continued, holding up the evidence bag with a few hundred dollar notes.
“What’s the other reason?” Spencer asked. You blinked, just a little confused. “For the powder?” You questioned in return. “For the compliment.” Spencer answered and you blinked again. Doe eyed and a little embarrassed. Clearly you had changed the subject because you didn’t want to tell him the true reason. “Ehm… well, you- you look really good.” Your face had gotten tinged red as you stammered over your words. Spencer smiled. Without even thinking he leaned slightly down. Planting a tender kiss on your cheek. He couldn’t not, seeing your pinkened cheeks, the urge to kiss you was almost unbearable. But he could hold back enough to just press his lips on the apple of your cheek. Your skin was soft and warm against them. The smell of your perfume once again wafting up into his nose. It was a quick second of a move but he would keep that moment in his memories forever. 
When he pulled away you looked still as flustered as before. “What was that for?” your voice was sweet, not even a hint of apprehension in them. You feigned confusion, he could see it in the way your eyes looked at him with a slight twinkle. Only one brow quirking up and a lopsided smile that you tried to hold back. “You look really good too.” Spencer answered, his cheeks feeling just the slightest hint of warmth. He watched you, the way your bottom lip got caught between your teeth as you struggled to keep from smiling too much. He wanted to keep that look all to himself. His hands aching again to pull you closer to him, to let himself melt into that cherry scent. To never stop kissing those sweet lips. He could stay in the lab forever with you if you would let him. Or if his boss would. He felt his phone vibrate in his pocket before the sound went off. The ding of a text message that was probably sent by one of his colleagues wondering why he was later than usual.
“I think you need to get to work too.” You spoke with a hint of disappointment. A sigh crossed your slightly parted lips. “I can come back for lunch.” Spencer spoke quickly, so ready to return to you even when he hasn’t left yet. “You always have lunch here, I am sure you must be sick of the lab.” You quickly protested. How could he be sick of the place where he gets to spend time with you. It was a preposterous thought. Nothing like that would have ever crossed his mind
“What if I come to you for lunch? Would that be okay?” you asked. “Are you sure? I mean… I would love that! If you want to of course. But isn’t this your space? I get it if you don’t want to go somewhere else to have lunch. Though if you do want to. I can show you my desk. Penelope would also be happy to see you, I’m sure.” Spencer rambled, until he realized he was rambling. The last word trailing off. He knew what you were doing, you were trying to make him comfortable. Even though he wasn’t uncomfortable in the lab. Yes, it was a bit of a walk, but he never complained because it meant you two would have lunch together. But he did realize he always came to you. And maybe, you had felt bad for making him come down every time. Though, you never asked him to besides the first time. After that it was all on his own accord. “I think I should broaden my horizons outside of the lab.” You joked, the giggle following your words sounding like a melody to him. “Right. Then, I would love to.” He smiled, his face feeling suddenly hot with embarrassment. His phone went off again. 
Spencer watched as you placed your hands on his shoulders. The feeling sent tingles down his spine. “I will see you at lunch then. Thank you for the coffee, pretty boy.” You quickly moved up onto your toes and placed a peck on his cheek. Mirroring what he had done to you. So casual. A peculiar kind that bordered on domestic. He locked that thought away for now. Not wanting to open that can of worms when he had just known you for a month, maybe less. It had only been 2 weeks since your first true kiss, in the museum. God he was moving quick, he might even scare himself with the rate at which these feelings grew inside of him. He realized he loved you, but saying that now would be too soon. You spun him around , his out of control thoughts quieting down, before giving a light push towards the door of the lab. Just as the notification sound went off for a third time.
When Spencer made his way to the bullpen of the BAU and took a seat at his desk he heard Derek whistle. “Got a little honey I see. And so early in the morning, how does he do it ladies and gents?” The man sidled up to his desk as Spencer bent down to put his bag on the ground. He looked back up to Derek with a little confusion, until he realized. His eyes went just a little wide. He had been so dazed by the fact you kissed him so quickly, and then shoved him to get to work, he forgot to check his face for what most likely would be a deep red mark on his left cheek. “You got a little something right there.” Derek pointed to his own cheek with a grin.
“Just because you can’t get it doesn’t mean you have to make fun of me.” Spencer sassed, grabbing a tissue and wetting it with water from his bottle, wiping at his cheek to remove your lipstick stain. Even though it hurt him slightly to remove the lasting mark you left on him. “Oh I am not making fun of anyone. I am proud. You return back after a week of absence due to a broken heart with what is clearly a sign that she’s still into you.” Derek explained, hands up in a defensive pose. Though he still had that grin. “Or you moved on to someone new really quickly.”
Spencer looked at the stain on the tissue, it was still vaguely kiss shaped. “We made up.” He said softly, a little embarrassed again. He knew Derek truly didn’t mean any harm with his words, they were teasing, like the older brother he never had but wished he did. “Good for you.” Derek said as he patted his shoulder before returning to his own desk. Spencer sat down, stuffing the tissue in his pocket before he went to work on filing the paperwork.
Spencer kept looking at the clock, hoping, praying they wouldn’t get a case until after lunch. Maybe that was a selfish thought, wanting the murders and the kidnappings to wait for his own gain. He knew that if they were needed they would fly out within 30 minutes. But lunch with you was important. So every few minutes he looked at the clock. Every time the elevator made a noise his eyes would flick over. The clock crept nearer to 12 pm, then when it hit 12:15 on the dot the elevator doors opened. And there you were, white coat foregone, two small bags in your hands that he supposed contained your lunch. You looked around the room a little nervous.
Spencer got up from his seat, waving you over with a smile. You lit up once you saw him, walking over quickly, boots thudding heavy against the linoleum of the bullpen. “Hey.” Spencer said with a smile, feeling a little too excited. “Hey.” you said in turn with a big smile. “I eh… got lunch for the both of us. If that’s not overstepping.” You said, holding out one of the paper bags. “I texted Penelope, she said you liked BLT so I truly hope you do.” you spoke quickly and Spencer grabbed the bag with a smile. The fact that you went out of your way to get him something he liked, to text Penelope, it made his heart swell. “I do. Thank you.” He said and motioned for you to take his seat.
As he did Spencer looked around the room for a second, a slightly surprised look from Emily, a confused one from JJ, and Derek just smiled before giving him a thumbs up. A sudden reminder that he never told Emily or JJ, and he was lucky David and Aaron sat in their own offices. He could not handle getting dating advice from David right now. You sat down in his seat as Spencer pulled a free chair over, sitting next to you. Closing a few books to make space to put the food down. “Sorry, it’s a bit of a mess.” He apologized but you simply smiled. “It’s okay. I like it, it’s your apartment but in desk form.” You commented, looking over the things on his desk.
He felt a little embarrassed by the few knick-knacks that were on there. The post it notes stuck to any service as reminders of things to do. He watched as you picked up the picture frame, a photo of his mom and him in there. “That’s my mom, Diana…” he said, as he watched your intent look. “She looks nice. You have similar bone structure.” You commented. Spencer let out a soft chuckle, “No one has ever commented on our bone structure before.” He said it softly. His mom was still a little sore of a subject, he knew the situation wasn’t likely to change, his mom would just get worse. But he wasn’t ready to tell you about that part just yet. Maybe soon. He did need to tell his mom about you. He’d probably have to tell her multiple times, he just hoped she would be happy for him. “But you do!” You quickly retaliated, turning the picture to him, “all these angles, the big eyes.” you tried to reason and Spencer only chuckled more. “Didn’t you come to have lunch?” He asked as he started to unwrap the sandwich that you got for him.
“And maybe to snoop a little.” You confessed as you quickly took a bite of your own sandwich. Spencer’s eyes widened slightly, just a little surprised and amused. “Shouldn’t snooping happen without the other person’s knowledge?” He asked, taking his own first bite of the sandwich. Somehow, it tasted better when you were around. You shrugged dismissively, though a small smirk played along those blood red lips. He thought about it, about kissing you right there in the bullpen. Looking pretty in his chair, at his desk. Though he’d probably never hear the end of it from the entire team. He didn’t really care. There was that possessiveness again. Wanting to show you and him were a thing… though you never really said you were a thing. “It feels wrong to snoop on you.” You admitted, sheepish grin and a slight nudge of your shoulder against his. This is what happiness felt like. The sadness of the last week is quickly forgotten, just by having you pay attention to him again. He was weak for you.
“I appreciate the informed snooping.” He laughed softly. “I’ll make sure to only snoop when you know.” Your reply made him smile more. The both of you finished your lunch, eating and talking, until Aaron walked in. “Round table room, 10 minutes.” He stated it coolly, only inferring to Spencer that this could be a serious case. Spencer looked at you, a little apologetic. He didn’t want to leave. Wanted to finish lunch in all peace with you. “I’m sorry.” He apologized as he started to pack up the half eaten sandwich back into the paper it came in. At Least he’d be able to finish it later. “It’s okay. It is your job.” You answered, standing up before a look of realization came over you. It confused him for a moment as you looked at him with your lips parted. “What?” he asked, brows scrunching slightly. “You left your scarf in the lab. I wanted to bring it. I’m sorry, I can go get it.” You rambled. “That’s okay, no need. I can pick it up when we get back.” He assured. It was sweet how you thought about it. Wanting to return his scarf when he had to leave. Maybe to make sure he wouldn’t be cold.
“Alright… You’d have to come back soon, be safe.” Those words made his heart skip a beat. It was sweet. How you cared, made him feel warm and fuzzy inside. “I will.” He said with a nod. He wanted to bend his head down again, to kiss you and not care about his friends in the room. Instead of giving in to the urge of wanting to kiss you, he pulled you into a hug. Wrapping his arms around your waist, resting his head on your shoulder. He felt your arms wrap around him. Warmth taking over him. He pressed his nose into the crook of your neck, taking in a deep breath. Emitting your scent to memory. The feeling of you in his arms tucked away for when he needed to remember it. He almost didn’t want to let go. You were the one to pull away first. Spencer reluctantly let his arms drop back to his sides. “I’ll see you soon.” you said it softly and with a smile. He nodded his head, “I’ll text you every day.” he answered before gathering his things and heading to the round table room. A quick glance back to see you still standing at his desk, a small wave goodbye before he left to go do his job.
He just hoped it wouldn’t be a long one.
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winterspiderpurrs · 2 months
Text
Frowning, Peter rolled over in bed, eyes still closed, trying to sort out what woke him . Moving to reach down and rub his lower abdomen area. The faint hint of pain was starting to bloom there, and he groans a little. It was a week before his heat was to start. With his senses dialed up, he always started feeling the cramps a week prior.
He cracks his eyes open and sighs. One of the perks of staying at the compound is that he had access to the good pain meds in the clinic they had here. Dragging himself out of bed, sluggishly moving to the dresser to find some pajama pants and a t-shirt to put on.
After they returned from the mission earlier in the night, he showered and just went straight to bed. For once, not even bothering with putting pajamas on. Made sense at the time, but now he regrets it as he has to dress to leave the room. Rubbing at his eyes as he slowly makes the trek toward the clinic in his tired state.
"Peter?"
The voice startles Peter, his eyes snapping up he blinks several times before tilting his head up to stare into the eyes of Bucky.
"Uh... what? I mean..."
Bucky raises an eyebrow and leans against the doorframe of his room. He already glanced around the empty dark hallway before looking back at the tired looking Peter.
" You knocked at my door at...3 in the morning."
Peter blinks slowly at Bucky, moving to rub at his lower abdomen.
" I... I am so sorry. I'm more tired than I thought... I was going to the clinic for some meds, and I... I don't know how I ended up here."
Bucky straightened up and frowned.
" You hurt? I thought you cleared medical after the mission? I have some spare pills in the room, but if you need to check-"
"No! I mean... I'm not injured just... ache? Sore yeah, that's the word. If you could spare a pill, that would be great... I just wanna get back to sleep. "
Peter laughs a little.
Bucky shakes his head.
" Yeah, yeah... let me get it. "
Bucky disappeared back into the room and headed to the bathroom. He moved some bottles around in the medicine cabinet and then found the custom pills that Bruce created for them. He got a pill out and stepped out of the bathroom and froze.
In the time he was in the bathroom, apparently Peter decided to crash in Bucky's bed. There on the bed is Peter, curled up hugging the pillow that Bucky was just sleeping on, eyes closed inhaling giving off a small purring sound.
Bucky retreats to the bathroom and closes the door.
" Friday? Call Steve.. no shit call Stark... no ...fuck... "
" Sargeant Barnes, I would advise that Mr. Stark would be the best course of action. Though I will have him review the footage of Peter leaving his room and coming to yours so he understands that you didn't bring Peter in, but I will alert Mr. Rogers as well with the instruction to not enter til AFTER Boss is in."
Bucky nods slowly. " Yeah.. okay... this is fuckin crazy"
As soon as he heard Peter knock, he should have just sent him away. But he had a soft spot for the beta. And when those big tired brown eyes looked upnat him. He was done for.
Not even 3 minutes has past before Bucky heard yelling.
" I don't care! My pup! Not yours! Peter??"
" Tony be reasonable! You saw the same video. Nothing happened. He was tired and clearly stating he thought he was going to the clinic. Buck was just helping him! "
" I'm sure he LOVES the idea of helping him,"
" What's that supposed to mean!?"
" It means that MY omega Pup, who is barely a week from his heat, is in private quarters with an ex assassin's alpha!"
"Mr. Stark!?"
The bathroom door swing opens, and both Bucky and Steve stare at Peter both stating the same thing.
" Peter is an omega?"
Peter is now sitting up on the bed, hugging the pillow close.
" Oh my god.... I.. I want wanted some pain pills..."
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grapejuicestyless · 7 months
Text
In My DNA
JJ Maybank x fem!reader
Summery: Y/n and JJ have been seeing each other for months, but when it all ends, JJ is left to deal with the consequences of his actions.
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“Just because I don’t love you in the way you want me to, doesn’t mean I love you any less.” My heart pounded in my ears, the sound of crushing aluminum and dry grass crunching underneath my shoes as I followed her across the front lawn.
“JJ, stop.” She puts her hand behind her, trying to plead for me to stop following. Our chase makes a scene, even if we are alone in the open morning breeze. But the feeling of eyes looking at us makes me aware of the curious gazes of our nosy friends, with their palms pressed against the window to watch.
“No, no, I won’t stop until you tell me what I’ve done wrong!” I try to stay calm, her shaky voice already setting off my bubbling anger. I am an angry person, I have so much to be mad at the world for. Though I do not show it frequently, I find myself ticked off by the tiny things until it breaks the surface and the pent up frustration turns into bloodthirsty hate.
Y/n is a sensitive person, she has so much empathy that sometimes I worry she’ll end up destroying herself with it. She doesn’t cry often, but her mouth twitches and her eyes squint in ways that give away her emotions to any given situation, the way her lips tremble or her voice cracks gives her facade away. Shes a good person, a kind girl and a great friend. She’s far too good for me, and that’s something I’m still trying to accept. Those are just the card’s I was dealt, it’s the game I have to play.
She huffs, walking away further until the grass turns to dirt road overgrown with weeds and littered with pebbles that crunch underneath speeding tires.
“Y/n, stop!” My hand grabs her wrist, yanking her back to my body, the thump of my chest hitting her shoulder blades echoing between our bodies, leaving us breathless for a passing moment.
“What do you want from me, JJ?” She spins to look at me, really look at me. Her eyes are filled with something just short of hate and her mouth is wobbling like a child’s. She’s got this kicked puppy dog look about her that makes my heart ache, and I just can’t place why.
“I wanna talk!” I hope she can read the confusion on my face, because her sudden shortness with me after all of our peace together puzzles me. I’ve only now just realized I can’t exactly read her as well as she can read me.
“Then talk!” She shouts, pushing off of my chest but stepping forward again just so we can be nose to nose.
“Why are you so angry?”
“Why are you such a dick!” She pushes away again, spinning on her heals and rushing across the dirt path to where it becomes thick rock mixed with broken cement.
“Would you just stop!” I don’t mean to yell, not at anyone and especially not at her. I want to know why she’s so upset, not make her more worked up. I need to fix this, whatever this is.
“Sorry, sorry. I don’t mean to yell.” My calloused hands cup her arms, working her around until she faces me again. She doesn’t fight my touch, letting the warmth of my palms cover her upper arms and squeeze over the soft skin.
“Please, tell me what I did wrong so I can fix it. I can’t think of anything that I’ve done to make you so angry!” Leaning forward, I try to press my forehead to hers, to breathe in the sweet smell of her perfume, get a taste of the fleeting memory of her.
She’s the closest thing to heaven, god sent, my angel. I can’t even think why she would be mad at me, not when I haven’t done anything to her.
“That’s the problem, Jay. You haven’t done anything.” She cries out desperately, trying to make me understand what she’s saying. The look in her eyes tells me she feels betrayed but I just can’t place a finger on it, so she’ll explain it for me.
“I gave you everything I had to offer and you promised me it was enough, but you keep taking things from me and I have nothing left to give.”
Oh.
Y/n is my best friend, the sweetest girl on the cut. A mind beyond her years and a heart so full and feeling, it’s hard to not love her. But poor sweet Y/n, too innocent for the cruelty of the world came knocking on my window for help. Big eyes and swollen lips, too nervous to ask anyone else for help.
I tell her over the course of a few months that I’ll help her, teach her all she needs to know. I steal her firsts out of my own greed, take them at her own pace and promise it’ll always be enough. Until I take the final things from her and she has nothing left to give up. I have nothing else to gain, and neither does she.
But I guess when hooking up with someone as soft and sweet as Y/n, I forgot just how delicate things can get, how mean it can be to just leave them.
“You are enough, nothing will change that.” I can keep telling her this, but to her theres no convincing and in some ways she smart for it, for never being naive. How can you trust someone who just up and leaves when something good becomes something they depend on? She would never know how dependent I was on her, of course, because I would never tell her how long after the night was over, when she was asleep with her cheek pressed against my chest I would stay awake a little longer just so I could keep playing with her hair or admire her face. She wouldn’t know because I’d never tell her.
“You made me feel dirty.” She says it so quietly, but her voice shakes nonetheless. Pointing fingers into my chest and backing me out into the dusty path more and more, spilling tears silently and letting them turn the dust into mud.
“I gave you what you wanted!” I try to argue, but we both know my words are meaningless. We both knew what she wanted, what we wanted, but if I play dumb maybe she’ll be less hurt by it.
“No, I gave you what you wanted! You couldn’t give me mine even if the world depended on it!” She only says these things because I’ve hurt her. I recognize that her feelings are valid, that by spending my evenings dedicated to her and then up and leaving so suddenly I’ve left an impression of greed on her. I’ve taken what she could offer and left her with nothing.
“Just because I don’t love you in the way you want me to, doesn’t mean I love you any less.” I try to paint the words into her mind, let her know that I do love her, I always will, but I have to remind her who I am. Beyond the surface, I’m still a Maybank. The thought of having her and losing her just like my loved ones before me drives me crazy even just thinking about it, so I can’t let myself act on how I feel for her, because it would never be fair.
“And just because you love me doesn’t mean I feel loved by you.” When she leaves, it’s quietly, soft sniffles and heaving breaths fading into the morning sun. I feel the watchful eyes of our friends observing us like hawks, and the hateful eyes of the majority boring a hole into my head. If it wasn’t known before, it is now.
JJ Maybank, the pogue who broke the rules and paid the price for his selfishness. But really, who didn’t see this coming? It’s who I am, it’s in my DNA.
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amandacanwrite · 7 months
Text
The Violet Thread of Fate Part One:
The Reclusive Wizard and the Cheeky Upstart
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Part One || Part Two || Part Three || Part Four || Part Five || Part Six || Part Seven || Part Eight || Join Taglist
POV || Third Person, dual POV Gale Dekarios and Elinna Inklynn (Tav)
Pairing || Elinna Inklynn (Half-drow tav) and Gale Dekarios
Length || 5,500 Words
Scenario || In an alternative timeline for the events of BG3 Elinna Inklynn, an orphan from the Moonshae Islands seeks out the tutelage of accomplished wizard Gale Dekarios of Waterdeep. She has a knack with the Weave, but no money or connections to actually learn how to harness it. She has heard the wizard is a gentleman and a schollar, and hopes she can appeal to him to take her on as his apprentice in exchange for her help around his tower, with his research, and in running errands in Waterdeep. Unfortunately for her, Gale Dekarios does not take on apprentices.
Warnings || Age gap (Perhaps about 10ish years), depiction of depression and heart ache, description of very, very mild body horror.
A/n || I hope you all enjoy this very indulgent little fic I'm starting. I am already having entirely too much fun with it. Please keep in mind that while this fic will have a good amount of characters and scenarios from the canon events of BG3 I am planning on taking a lot of creative liberties and may leave out certain situations/characters for the sake of flow!
If you like this, you may also like my original works! I have a writing taglist that you can sign up for simply by commenting or reblogging and letting me know you'd like to be added. OR you can fill out this form if you'd like to be specific about which works you'd like to be tagged in.
Tag list || @softvampirewhump @horizonstride @thoughts-of-bear @mymybirdie @tiedyedghoulette @drabblesandimagines @madwomansapologist @hijirikaww @tryingtowritestuff24 @laserlope @auroraesmeraldarose @puckprimrose @dont-try-pesticide
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A Reclusive Wizard
“Mr. Dekarios, if you would just consider it–” Tara suggested as she fluttered alongside her charge. 
“Tara, no,” Gale said. “We are not dropping the wards and we’re not taking visitors. The orb is too volatile.”
“But, Mr. Dekarios–I’ve told you this isolation of yours–” 
“Tara–enough,” Gale shouted, exasperated. “You are my friend. You’re not my mother. I’m a grown man, who has done quite well for himself, might I add, and I don’t need your–your incessant fussing.”
“Mr. Dekarios!” Tara tutted, her whiskers perking forward with her disapproval. “My incessant fussing is what helped you figure out how to stabilize the orb in the first place, may I remind you. And if you so tire of my incessant fussing, allow me to divest of its burden! I may not be your mother, but your mother is a friend to me and will happily put me up.”
“Tara,” Gale said. “Wait–I didn’t mean you should leave–”
“I know that. But I am also quite aware that my willingness to fetch magical items and act as your little familiar has proven to only enable your reclusive habits,” she retorted. “Perhaps you will not listen to me, but when you run out of biscuits for your tea, perhaps you’ll see the reason in getting a little bit of fresh air…and perhaps a bath…and for the sake of the gods a shave.”
Tara flitted her way up to one of the high windows in the tower, pausing on the sill before leaving.
“Tara, don’t go,” Gale said, his eyes taking on a sort of sorry, piteous quality. “Please, just stay here.”
“Mr. Dekarios, those big glittering eyes won’t work on me any longer,” Tara said. “I’ve known you too long to be bewitched by your pouting. If you so wish me to return, you can come fetch me at your childhood home. The walk will do you well.”
And with that, she soared right out of the window, leaving Gale of Waterdeep entirely and utterly alone. 
Gale scowled up at the window she’d escaped from before sighing and smearing a hand down his face. He cupped his hand over his mouth and heaved out a low grumble, lost in thought as he often was these days. 
Perhaps Tara was right…maybe it was time to leave the tower. To engage in the ease of camaraderie at The Yawning Portal, reach out to the colleagues that had tried to pay him a visit in the year since his relationship with Mystra had come to an end–since this tangle of Netherese magic made a home of his chest cavity. 
But it wasn’t just the volatile nature of the orb that worried him. It wasn’t as if he thought a raucous night with his friends would trigger an explosion to level the city he called home. Even with the constant peril of the orb in his chest being destabilized by a too-strong emotion, there was a deeper fear inspiring the reluctance.
Gale Dekarios was used to being an outlier. Unfortunately, it was the otherside of the coin of being a particularly gifted wizard. As a child, it had been a source of ostracization. As an adolescent it made him the subject of many an ill-begotten rivalry. As a young man he had begun to learn how to minimize the isolation by compensating for the inevitable inferiority complex he inspired in others by learning to be charming and funny–to couch his corrections in complimentary language so that he could have some measure of friendship.
It wasn’t often that he could find people that could keep up with him or converse with him on his level–at least, not where the subject of magic came into play. But he’d learned to accept that and enjoy the company of other wizards–even non-wizards–in different ways. 
A game of lanceboard, the critical analysis of a book, a spirited debate on the merits of the shadow arts when applied to the correct endeavors. Now, as a man in his late 30’s with questionable knees, he felt nicely secure in his ability to play nice with others. 
But this new sense of separation–this insurmountable mountain between himself and the other–had been so very devastating to the life he had carefully cultivated. 
How could he listen to other people lament about their sordid love affairs, the politics at the academy–anything– with any measure of understanding or empathy? How could he confide in the people who he used to call his friends? 
He was alone in the tower, but he wasn’t certain he could face the profound isolation of trying to connect with someone about his condition, only to find them staring back at him in utter befuddlement. Or worse, with soulless platitudes and what he could only describe as foolish optimism.
Who could possibly make him feel better when there was no way he could ever feel better? How could he listen to the woes of friends and earnestly care about them when he had been forsaken by the goddess of the only thing he held sacred in his life?
He couldn’t. That was a the truth of it. And that was why he didn’t want visitors. He didn’t want to subject his friends to the poor quality of his care; didn’t want to expose them to this unique brand of selfishness and bitterness. 
He’d had enough of destroying things. 
But he also knew he needed Tara–not just because of the artifacts, but because she was his oldest and longest standing friendship. And because the tower, in her absence, had already become unbearably quiet.
And he supposed it had been a while since he last saw his mother…
He sighed and turned away from his mess of a study, climbing up the two flights of stairs to his bedchambers. Once there, he conjured himself a bath as he undressed, leaving his house robes in a pile on the floor before stepping into the steaming water. 
It smelled of bay laurel and lavender–an old combination that Mystra loved to use when they’d shared baths together. His mind drifted to the thought of his goddess cradled against his body, how small she felt even with her considerable power, the feeling of her silky hair catching on his skin as he kissed the hollow of her neck and…
“Don’t take that path in your mind, Gale. She’s the last person you should be thinking about right now,” he told himself as he gave his cheek a couple firm, bracing pats with his hand. He let his head drop back in the water and sighed. 
The water filled his ears, quieting the ambient sounds in the room around him and creating an echochamber of his head. He heard the airy sound of his breaths coming and going in and out of his lungs; heard the gentle trickling sounds of his fingers creating tiny currents under the water; heard the sound of his heart still beating in his over-crowded chest. 
He was still alive. 
There could be hope for him yet. 
Unlikely, sure, but there could be. 
After washing up with some simple soap, he got out of the bath and toweled off. 
He walked over to the small wardrobe where he kept his things and slapped a couple lazy splashes of a fragranced suspension he’d made onto his neck, favoring his pulse points as he used to when he’d go out for a night at The Yawning Portal. He trimmed his beard as a small concession to Tara (he would not be shaving it completely, thank you very much,) and got dressed. 
He decided he would wear one of his nicer sets of robes. It’d been a while since he’d properly dressed himself in something other than simple tunics and roughspun practice robes. He started with some leather trousers and his under shirt, layering the criss-crossed front with car and fastening it with the ties at his waist to create a slender, tapered silhouette. Then he slipped the robe on, and paused as he caught a glance of himself in the mirror. 
He’d not really been thinking when he selected the robe, but this was one of Mystra’s favorites on him. Various shades of violet with a wine-colored sash. 
Violet, of course, was the color of the weave. Mystra’s color. 
Would she want him to eliminate the color from his wardrobe altogether? Now that she’d left him to his devices? Surely a goddess couldn’t bar him from wearing a color. Hopefully not, considering more than half of his wardrobe was some shade of lilac, lavender or morning glory.
Whatever the case, he fastened the buckles and straightened the sash the wine colored sash, trying once again to put Mystra out of his mind. He did a flick of his hands to lace up the sleeves and then slid on some leather bracers for good measure. 
It wasn’t as if he had any intention of doing any fighting or shooting any arrows, but he liked how they looked. And it had been so long since he’d looked in the mirror and thought to himself my, look at that handsome devil.
Finally he looked at the mop of his hair. It’d also been too long since he’d gotten a cut…now his messy curls fell past his shoulders when he usually preferred to keep it short enough to comb back with a bit of emollient or pomade. He was certain his mother would gripe about it and then he would have to deal with incessant fussing two fold between his mother and Tara. Still, it was dark outside–long past the time any salons would be open, so he gathered half of it up, bundling it as neatly as he could manage around his two forefingers and secured it with a two-pronged hairpin. 
He looked at the earring on his wardrobe and hedged for a moment. 
He’d been given the earring as a gift from Mystra when he’d first encountered her as a boy. He’d only stopped wearing it in the last year. Something had felt off about keeping it on–like a widower still wearing his wedding band. But it also felt wrong to leave his tower without it. It felt like a part of his identity. 
“You’re ridiculous,” he said to himself in the mirror before turning from it and striding out of his bedroom. 
…He returned not two seconds later and slipped the earring into his left ear. Damn it all. He couldn’t help what he was. A sentimental, heartbroken fool.
On his way out the door, he grabbed a hooded cloak and draped it over his shoulders. He lifted the hood, obscuring his face in shadow, hoping it would be enough to keep him from having to interact with anyone who wasn’t Tara of his mother. He considered, for a moment, casting an invisibility charm on himself…alas the concentration such a thing would require left him feeling exhausted at the thought of it. The cloak had worked for rogues and criminals for centuries. Suely it could work for him as well. 
Finally, he left the safety and control his tower afforded him and walked out into the cold, Waterdhavian night. 
A Cheeky Upstart
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“Okay Elinna. Just…ring the doorbell. You’ve traveled all the way here. So just ring it,” a young woman told herself as she stood outside the wrought iron gates. “You sailed all the way from the Moonshae Islands, left every book behind, dealt with some of the worst sea sickness in all of the realms just to be here.”
Despite telling herself this, she had to shake out some of the numbness in her fingers from clenching her fists too tight. Or maybe it was just the nip in the air from the coastal evening. She couldn’t truly be sure. 
As she stood there, her green eyes caught a streak of movement in the sky–some winged creature departing from a high window of the tower. She couldn’t quite make out what it was. Maybe a gargoyle? Or a mephit? An imp?
Something churned in her gut at the thought of Gale of Waterdeep cavorting with the infernal. Perhaps that was why no one had seen him in such a long time–maybe he’d made a pact with a devil and lost some of his humanity in the exchange. Maybe she ought to just turn on her shabby heels and book passage back home. 
“You can’t do that, Elinna,” she told herself. “You already spent everything you have just to get here. You’re all in, now.”
But that was precisely why she couldn’t bring herself to tug on the chain to ring the doorbell. Who was she to show up at the door of one of the best wizards–a proper prodigy of composing strings of the weave; the apprentice of the famous Elminster, no less?
Well she knew the answer to that. 
She was desperate. That’s what she was. 
She’d been left at the Scribe’s Nest by her mother with nothing but a note and an old locket she couldn’t get open; drow craftsmanship. The note detailed her lineage as a half-drow, but begged the clerics of the temple to take her in and raise her. According to the note left in her swaddle, Elinna would be shunned and excluded by because of her impure blood. 
A shame for both her mother and Elinna herself that the Scribe’s Nest had simply moved into an old Temple of Ilmater. The inhabitants inside were nothing but glorified librarians. They may have had access to all of the books in the world, but not a single one of her guardians actually knew how to use the information inside. 
No. Instead, they tried to raise her to love cataloging the written word, but deny herself the joy of actually using anything she learned from the old dusty tomes in the temple. Even when she’d shown a natural knack for small magics, she had been discouraged from using them, leaving her with no choice but to practice in the wee hours of the night. 
She knew she hadn’t much to use as a benchmark for her growth as a burgeoning young wizard, but she thought for all of the effort she’d put in she made a half-decent self-taught magician. All she needed was some proper tutelage to become something truly magnificent. Something worthy of the tales of great wizards that she’d read. 
Which brought her here–to the first and only plan she had to seek out that higher learning. And now her future hung in the balance of whether or not her knock at the door–or rather the ring of the doorbell–would be answered. 
Her heart pounded in her chest, at her temples. He leather fingerless gloves squeaked as she flexed and clenched her fists. 
“Gah!” she cried, turning away from the gate, pacing across the narrow cobbled street, then pacing right back. She gasped in a few preparatory breaths and hopped from one soft-soled foot to the other. “Just do it, just DO it, Elinna. Just–”
The door of the tower opened, it’s underutilized hinges creaking as the man opening the door grunted. 
“Damnable–old door–why did I make you out of iron,” grumbled the voice. 
Elinna went entirely still, eyes going wide. 
Perhaps it was habit from how many times she’d had to sneak tomes away from the restricted areas of the Scribe’s Nest, but she ducked behind the stone columns holding up the wrought iron gate and watched as the cloaked figure made his way to the gate and slipped outside of it with a wave of his hand. 
She remained hidden as he looked down the road in her direction, his eyes looking too distantly to catch her small frame tucked away in the dark. 
She’d seen sketches of the Gale Dekarios before, but she couldn’t help but feel they did him no justice. The etchings seemed to have emphasized the wizened qualities of his features; the lines around his eyes, the creases around his lips. They made him look sagely and–well–old. 
But the real man, the one now standing in the flesh just a few feet from her was something different entirely. 
He showed signs of age, of course. He was a middle-aged man, after all. But his lips were fuller, his beard a little more tidy, and his eyes…
His eyes were what made him look the most youthful. There was a sort of shimmer to them that she couldn’t quite describe, a sort of weight to his brow that made him look as if he was always curious, always observing.
She watched as he pulled his cloak a little tighter around him and turned the opposite direction, walking down the narrow street. 
Wait, she thought. What am I doing?!
She hesitated for only one more moment before quickly hurrying after him. She searched her mind for all of the speeches she’d practiced for this introduction, but she was left wanting. She should have written it down so that she wouldn’t forget–or would it have been even more strange for read her introduction off the pages of a notebook? 
It was all strange, of course; a girl crossing the ocean to show up on the doorstep of a stranger several years her senior. Asking for an apprenticeship when she hadn’t so much as sent him a letter of introduction or even had anything to offer in exchange except for chores, errands and meal preparations. Seeking tutelage from one of the most accomplished young wizards when she was still struggling with even the most basic of incantations…
But what else could she do? 
The life of a Scribe Nest Archiver was not a luxurious one. She’d had to sneak out of the old Nest to sing songs at the local tavern to scrape what little money she could together to book passage to even get here. 
Blackstaff wasn’t exactly inexpensive–and even if it was, she couldn’t hope to get in. Not with how poorly she handled the weave. 
But Gale–she had read transcripts of his lectures, heard tales of how magnanimous and warm he could be. She even once met one of his friends at the tavern who was visiting the islands for this or that purpose–she couldn’t remember. She only remembered the tales of his kindness and generosity. Of his gentleman’s nature. 
He seemed like her only real chance at ever mastering this art that sang to her like a harpy at roost in the bay.
God’s he was walking fast though. Perhaps it was just because she was so short in comparison to him, but she was almost having to run to catch up to him. 
“E-excuse me,” she finally said when she was within earshot.
She saw the briefest glance back at her, the quickest flash of a startled expression, before he focused forward and quickened his pace.  
“No, thank you,” Dekarios replied. “I’ve already a subscription to the Waterdhavian times.”
“Uhm, no–that’s not–” she stammered. “Wait, could you please stop walking so fast!”
“I’m in a dreadful hurry, good night to you,” he said dismissively, walking even faster as he pulled his cloak further to guard his face. 
“Mr. Dekarios! I’ve come here to talk to you!” She shouted, a little crack of desperation coming out with it. “Mr. Dekarios I–”
He whirled on her, suddenly encroaching into her space. He was so quick that she almost stumbled backward and fell. Before she could, though, he seized her arm with one strong hand, stablizing her quickly before clasping his other hand over her mouth.
She stared up at him with wide eyes, bright irises flicking around his face as if she were prey caught in his snare.
“Shhhh,” he hissed before looking around, as if to see if anyone heard her. “Mystra’s Elbow, you’d think my reputation as a newly initiated recluse would have gotten around by now.”
Elinna swallowed dryly, critically aware of the feeling of his calloused fingertips on the soft swells of her freckled cheeks. She blinked up at him, unsure what to do. His hand felt warm through the roughspun, puffed sleeves of her Scribe’s Nest garments.  Her feet were sort of turned in awkwardly after he’s caught her mid fall. 
She wondered if it would have looked like she was being accosted by a thief to a wandering bystander. She supposed it didn’t matter because no one else was here. She knew she should have been afraid. That she was a young woman alone with an older man; that he’d rendered her silent and could easily do much worse. But she also knew that was likely the experiences at the tavern thinking for her. 
Gale was supposed to be a gentleman. That’s what she’d always heard. And…
And his hands smelled like…like tea and old parchment and sage. There was a somewhat sharp quality to the fragrance–perhaps a suspension alchemized in alcohol of some sort. He must have made it himself. 
“Now. This behavior of mine, admittedly, is abhorrent for a gentleman with a young lady. I will have to ask you to forgive my bad manners and to give me the grace of your understanding because I simply did not want to be greeted by anyone aside from my mother and my cat. Now. I am going to take my hand away from your mouth; apologies again for the rough handling. But I’m going to then need you to let me walk away. And perhaps most importantly, I need you to leave me alone,” Gale said quietly. “Do we have an accord?”
Elinna’s pale ginger brow furrowed and he tutted quietly. 
“No, no. No crinkles of the brow, no narrowing of the eyes, miss,” he scolded. “It is by mere coincidence you’ve even caught me out of my tower. By all accounts this is an anomaly of the highest order and therefore…uhm…does not count. You should just forget this ever happened. In fact, I could help you do so if you like!”
Doesn’t count? What kind of logic–that was school-boy logic! And what did he mean help her forget?! She jerked her arm away from him and, perhaps in a moment of panic he tightened his grip.
“Alright, alright! I’m going to let you go–just– remember our deal, please,” he said, releasing her arm.
He winced slightly as he hesitated to remove his other hand from her mouth. She thought he had the same expression one might have if they were about to remove a cork from a vial of smelling salts.
He released his other hand, drawing it away from her mouth. 
“Mr. Dekarios, I’ve come to ask you to take me on as an apprentice,” Elinna blurted out. “I know you have never met me, and that you have no notion of my ability or skill. And that showing up outside of a strangers house and asking them for a place to live–”
“I’m sorry, a place to live?” He interjected with an incredulous tone
“--and a comprehensive education in the arcane arts–” she continued.
“I assure you I do not have the time, and it certainly wouldn’t be proper for an older man to bring a young woman into his home to–” he interjected again. 
“ But I have nowhere else to turn and…And I’m afraid I can’t take no for an answer.”
His brows shot up as she finally stopped speaking. She didn’t know what to make of that expression, nor the silence that followed. Elinna could feel her face beginning to warm and she knew from  that her face was already starting to color with her own nerves. It felt the same way it did when a tavern patron made a bawdy joke at her expense–or about her body. 
The silence was the most unbearable part, though. So she started to fill it, her face getting warmer by the moment.
“You’re silent,” she said. “Uh–right. Names. I’m Elinna Inklyn. I hail from the Moonshae Islands. I grew up under the care of the Scribe’s Nest Archivists and–”
“Elinna. Elinna,” he said, his tone almost pitying. “I’m going to stop you right there.”
She felt her heart sink as he pinched the bridge of his nose and tilted his head back, looking toward the sky. “Look, Miss Inklyn. I’m sorry that you came all this way, but. I am afraid you must take no as an answer. I cannot take on an apprentice, even if I wanted to.” He winced and almost half shrugged. “And frankly, I really do not want to. Even if I could do it, I wouldn’t want to do it.”
“But–if you’d let me explain–” she protested. 
“No–no buts. Again, I am dreadfully sorry for the trouble you went through to get here. But…considering that you sought me out and addressed me by name, you must know who I am.” he said. 
“Yes,” she answered. 
“So, then you know that I am particularly gifted with manipulating the weave,” he said. “That’s why you’ve sought me out.”
“Yes,” she said yet again. “Well part of the reason but also because–”
“So, then I’m sure you could understand why I find the inadequacies of unskilled wizards irksome, correct? That if I were to take on an apprentice, it would be someone with a certain level of innate talent?”
Her brow furrowed again and she inhaled to speak, but before another word could fall out of her mouth a huge boom of sound tore out from the sky above them. She clapped her gloved hands over her ears and yelped.
“What was that?” she shouted. 
The two looked up at the source of the sound only to see the sky split open like it’d been torn by a dull blade. Out of the opening flew a giant aircraft with writhing tentacles slicing through the air as if it were a squid traversing deep sea waters. The two wizards–one novice and one adept–balked at the appearance of the spelljammer, the size of it practically the size of Gale’s tower if you laid it on its side.
“A nautiloid?” They both said at the same time. 
They met eyes briefly before Gale gritted his teeth and grasped onto her arm, almost flinging her away from him
“Get out of here, Elinna. And whatever you do don’t let the tentacles touch you,” he shouted. 
She stumbled, almost falling on her face, looking back at him. 
“What about you?!” she cried. 
“I’m a wizard,” he said before turning and casting a bolts of ice at two of the tentacles that swatted out toward them. 
“It’s a spelljammer!”
“I’m a very, very good wizard!” he said. 
Elinna’s sense of self preservation won out over her worry for the man she’d come here to meet. If he thought he could take on a nautiloid, who was she to deny that? She turned and sprinted down the narrow street before dodging down an alleyway in hopes of getting cover from the massive tentacles that now swept down toward the ground like great, giant whips. 
She chanced a single look back to see Gale running just behind her, and the spelljammer that was traveling far too quickly and far too low to the ground for comfort. He followed her down the alleyway, calling ahead. “Not that way! To the east–”
“I don’t know which way east is!” she shouted back. 
“Are you kiddi–Eugh–LEFT,” he said. “LEFT, LEFT! Go LEFT!”
“Alright, I heard you!” she said. “No need to shout!”
“I will shout if I want to, now–Elinna, look out!”
She looked ahead just in time to see a brick wall and slipped on her worn soles as she tried to come to a screeching halt. 
She slammed into the wall, but thankfully not with enough force to knock her out.  She managed to clumsily tumble toward the left, dropping onto her fingertips just a moment before lurching back upright. Gale caught up to her and cast some spell–gust, she assumed– because a strong wind caught in the fabric of her clothes like a breeze in the sails of a galeon and made her feel like she was running on air. 
He fought off another tentacle and she screamed as one almost tagged her, but smashed an old fish barrel to bits instead.
“Keep going. We’ll lose it on the main road,” Gale yelled.  
They spilled out onto a wider street and she immediately regretted listening to the Waterdhavian native. It’d seemed a sound plan at first. But only if the goal of the ship was to find them specifically. When they made it to the street, Elinna realized that was not the drive of the nautiloid at all. 
The main road was chaos. There were carts toppled over and people lying trampled on the ground. People ran and screamed, some of them were swatted by the terrifying power of the tentacles only to vanish into dust before they could make impact with the wall of a building or the floor below them.
Elinna froze in terror, realizing finally that her plight had gone from one of trying to secure a teacher of her own to one of simply trying to survive her first night on the mainland. It suddenly dawned on her that she might actually die here. She might die within moments. 
She couldn’t think. Couldn’t move.
It was a mistake to stop, but she realized it too late. A horse cried out desperately and tore away from the frightening vessel. It tore straight toward her, its eyes wild, his nose gusting tufts of steam into the air like a machine. It pulled a market cart along with it, full of heavy barrels of meat and wine. She braced herself, squeezing her eyes shut and thinking about the magic she’d read about. Misty step–misty step, what was the incantation for misty step?
“I-Inveniam Viam!!” she shouted, the words sailing on waves of the weave and almost…echoing. There was the sweet taste of something on her tongue–the after effect of using the weave if her reading was any indication. She’d only tasted that once or twice before, but chasing that sweet, comforting experience was what brought her here. It’s what made her so desperately want to learn how to wield this magic.
When she opened her eyes, the horse was gone.
Unfortunately for her, so was the ground beneath her feet. 
She’d somehow teleported into midair and, as if the weave was just as shocked as she was, she’d wound up suspended there for just the briefest moment, cradled by the strands of the weave she’d managed to manipulate. Seconds felt like minutes as he copper hair floate away from her face as she experienced true weightlessness for just moments. Then she felt the sickening churn in her stomach as she started to fall. 
The floor just far enough to be lethal but not far enough to give her adequate time to figure out another spell. Her mind went blank with terror. In a moment of desperation, she found Gale in the crowd, a stationary man in a sea of fleeing people. 
He looked at her in abject horror as she dropped like a dagger out of the sky. He looked utterly, woefully helpless.
She screamed, wrapping her arms around her as if she could brace her own fall, as if holding herself would hold her together.
Then, just as she was about to splat on the cobblestones into a puddle of bone and blood, a searing heat bloomed from the center of her back. She screamed again as she felt herself dissolve from the inside out, her innards liquifying into a primordial soup. 
Her body went miserably hot, and then impossibly cold. No. Not cold–she realized–absent. She was vanishing from the center of her body. She watched in uncomprehending horror as her middle vanished, watched as her body evaporated like steam off a teacup. 
Her guttural scream sounded from her and died in the air. 
The last thing she saw before her vision went black was Gale still staring at her as he too succumbed to the nautiloid’s attack.
105 notes · View notes
yourejinx · 1 year
Text
Undeniable Bonds.
Pairing: Azriel x Reader
Genre: angst.
Warnings: mostly language.
Words: 3k or so.
Summary: Y/N and Azriel can't stand each other, despite the centuries working together they just don't seem to understand one another. Too many secrets are being kept. But that bond between them keeps pushing, demanding, making it impossible to ignore.
Author note: the summary sucks, I should work on it later.
Chapter One?
I could hardly see anything past the blinding white rage in my vision as I stalked through the streets of Velaris on my way back to the House of Wind. How dare he?!
“Is it business or pleasure?” Azriel purred maliciously, a dark smirk tugging at his lips. 
Rhys’s face went pale with stupor but he snapped out of it fast enough to stop me from snatching the Shadow singer’s eyeballs with my bare hands. 
He should have let me land that blow. Violet eyes turned soft on my face even as he commanded in all his Mighty High Lord voice for Azriel to get the fuck out. 
Fucking miserable Illyrian bastard. Breathing deeply through my nose I measured the distance between myself and the steps of the stairs up to the House, and then started sprinting for it. Maybe the aching of my lungs would numb the rising anger that occupied my thoughts.  
The sun was shining brightly in the sky by the time I reached the training zone. Cassian was already at it with a punching bag, hair loose, shirt already discarded and sweat dripping from his forehead. He kept shoving strands of hair that fell into his eyes out of the way in between punches, an exasperated huff leaving his parted lips. A prominent vein popped into his neck as a result of the effort and strength with which he was landing hit after hit, wings tucked in tight, he looked stressed. Tough night for the both of us then. 
 I approached him as silently as a wraith, not wanting to disturb his session and starting my stretchings. 
“You’re late.” He greeted me. He’d probably been up since before  dawn. 
“You can thank your brother for that.” I replied shifting my weight from one leg to the other. He stopped punching and grinned at me, although it didn’t quite reach his eyes. 
“Which one?”
I rolled my eyes. “Which one do you think?”. 
“Az is giving you a hard time again, huh?”
“Isn’t he always? You know it was supposed to be a quick meeting, we had to report to Rhys about last week, take the new mission and leave. But of course Azriel had to be a huge pain in the ass again by pleading to leave me behind because I “complicate things”, which only means I do put to use my critical thinking and not just blindly follow his every command.”
Cass chuckled at my evident irritation with the Shadowsinger. “You know, Az can be entitled sometimes but he knows what he’s doing…listening to him from time to time can’t be that bad now, can it?”
“I know Cass, he’s Spy Master for a reason, I know he’s a great spy, but so am I. And he doesn’t seem to want to see it. I too have some good ideas, I’ve saved both our asses several times now, but he just won't acknowledge it. It is his way or the hard way every single time, I’m just tired of trying to prove myself to him.” 
The rich brown surrounding Cassian’s irises looks like molten chocolate in the late morning as his gaze softens on me. I hate to look vulnerable but I guess if it’s going to be in front of anyone, who better than Cass? This huge scary looking warrior that was actually just a big loving teddy bear. Cassian was my best friend, the one who knows my secrets and fears and desires and has never judged me or pitied me for it. Not once. 
"You don't need to prove anything. You've done more than enough time and time again, if he doesn't see it then he's a giant fool." 
“Thank gods I’ve got you, who would burst my ego like that if not you, huh?.”
He flashed one of his radiant smiles at me and I motioned for him to come closer. Once he stood in front of me I made him turn and sit at my feet, quickly grabbing hold of his locks and braiding his hair back. 
Cassian was one of the first ones to warm up to me and make me feel welcome besides Rhys. It was easy with him, always ready to make me laugh and help ease my process of adjusting to life in Velaris. He quickly became my best friend.
When I first got here I was stuck in the mountains for six whole years with Amren before I could even interact with the rest of the Inner Circle. A safety measure for all, of course, I was unstable in many ways after escaping that hideous place they call the Court of Nightmares. I needed space to heal, and to learn how to control my powers. Rhys came and went very often, he took the time to actually teach me how to put a leash on my power –being quite similar to his– and to bend it to my will, but it wasn’t until years later that I officially met everyone. It was awkward at first, I didn’t know much about socializing given that my only interactions were with the stoic Amren and even before that I’ve only ever met the cruelness of my family; but Mor was excited to see me again when Rhys brought me to Velaris and Cassian greeted me with a big fat grin and open arms. Azriel on the other hand…the spymaster had intrigued me since the very first moment we’d met, lurking in a corner, his shadows hovering over his shoulders and curling up to his head, hiding the lines of his beautiful face. Mesmerizing. He seemed intrigued as well at first, hazel eyes assessing me with intensity. I honestly don’t know when everything went downhill with him, but now we just can’t stand each other. 
“Do you wanna talk about it?” I said after a couple of heartbeats had passed in silence between us.
“About what?”
“Uh-uh, not playing dumb with me.”
“Is this what we do now? braid each other’s hair and talk about our problems?” He tried to dismiss the subject by playing funny.  
“Well, you’re always pestering me to talk about my problems, so I figured I should do the same” I grinned down at him. 
“There was a time when we fixed our issues in other ways,” he said suggestively, waving his eyebrows.  
“If you want to get absolutely hammered at Rita’s I may be down to it, but not tonight. If I show up completely pissed tomorrow Azriel’s gonna lose it, and honestly I don’t want to deal with his bullshit for even a minute longer than necessary.” I hissed the last words as a sharp twinge of pain shot through my head. 
Cassian’s eyes fixed on my face, worry staining his golden orbs as he stood towering over me. He cupped my chin so that I was looking up at him now, his gaze falling to the dark circles under my eyes. 
“The nightmares again,” he stated more than questioned. “They can’t reach you here, dove.” His tone was softer. 
“I know, Cass. It wasn’t the nightmares this time, I’ve been…having these dreams of places that I don’t recognize, people that I don’t know and there’s always so much suffering. I wake up feeling drained of energy and totally confused. I don’t know what it means.”
Weird, blurry images of last night’s dream came flooding into my mind. Darkness and smoke, the ashy taste of fire filled my senses and made me dizzy. All I could see were the outlines of white hair and twirling swoops of black ink very similar to the tattoos on Cassian’s chest. An ancient language that I didn’t understand. 
“Maybe you should stop reading so many of those weird books of yours,” he smirked, easing the crease of my eyebrows “Have you been eating well?”
I shook out of my trance and stepped back out of his hold, adopting a fighting stance in the middle of the ring. “Enough of me anyways. What 's up with you? you seem stressed, did something happen with Nesta?” I said throwing the first punch, he dodged it.  
“No. I got into a fight with Devlon yesterday, he’s been playing us for fools and the females have not been training at all.” 
“You went to the Illyrian camps? I thought you were gonna wait for me, you know I love to spook the shit out of that misogynistic pig.” I grinned at him. 
“I was but then you had that mission with Az and then the meetings and reports, I just didn’t want to burden you any further. Besides, you’re rarely around these days. You know, for two people who supposedly can’t stand each other you spent an awful amount of time together.” He smirked. 
“Yeah well, we work together, it’s not like we have a choice. Though Azriel really puts in the effort to try and get rid of me.” 
“What did Rhys say?”
“That I was going on the mission and that was final.” 
Cass chuckled and some of the tension was lifted from my shoulders, his mere presence was comforting enough for me to relax a bit. I have had a massive headache all morning, I was barely able to concentrate on what Rhys was saying above the urging desire to bang my head against the nearest wall. 
"I can tell when you're not telling me something, you know? It's not just the weird dreams is it?" 
I sighed tiredly and dropped my arms to the side, clearly we weren't going to any further in training lest I spilled it all out for him. 
"Azriel suggested that I was having an affair with someone from the Hewn City, and while he was at it he also kind of accused me of treason." 
The General 's jaw tensed. He knew the Hewn City and anything remotely involved to that nightmare of a place has always been a touchy subject for me, being born as I was — a female with the power of a High Lord — meant an open invitation for challenge and dominance. It had cost me almost everything at a very young age. The mere suggestion that I may hold a secret agenda with the snakes that prowl around the power of the crown made my ire burn like a thousand suns. It also made me nauseous, I sure wasn't as horrible as Azriel made me out to be.
"Someone clearly needs to knock some sense into him." He gave me a look that promised trouble, rolling his toned shoulders and spreading his huge wings wide. 
"Forget it Cass, you said it yourself, I don't need to prove anything. Besides, Rhys knows the truth so I'm clear." 
He didn’t say anything else and just followed me back to the ring. Good. I have had enough of Azriel anyways. 
—----------------------------------------------------------
“I have a lead!” I said bursting through Rhysand’s office at the River House, arms full of maps with annotations. Lucien hot on my heels. 
The High Lord turned in his seat to take a look at me, then at Lucien and back at me, one dark eyebrow arched high in question. Mere seconds later I felt a talon slide gently across my mental shield, asking for permission. I granted him access. 
“Does Lucien know what this is all about?” his voice sounded in my head. 
“Just that I’ve been hunting down a group of slavers. He offered some insight when he saw me looking for connections between Spring and Night Courts.” 
It wasn’t entirely a lie, we have been investigating the disappearance of fae females for the past year now, I had first noticed it one night when I was sneaking some of them out of the Hewn City to a Shelter in the outskirts of Velaris. Only Rhys and I knew about it. I just couldn’t leave those poor women to suffer as I had in that horrible place, but it was too risky, and as much as Rhys has been doing some political changes concerning the Night Court, it still was a very complex matter. So we investigated thoroughly about whom we would be bringing to our home. Just a few at a time, Rhys had said, we can’t risk bringing spying eyes here, and a large group of females vanishing into the night will certainly attract Kier’s attention back to us. 
A couple of months ago, the group I was supposed to escort out went missing. There wasn’t a whisper of them in the entirety of the Court of Nightmares, and the female servants were too afraid to speak. I just knew someone had been watching me, it had been a warning and a message. Stay out of our business. 
He nodded, then spoke out loud. “What did you find?” 
“Well I think they may be using the remnants of the Spring Court as some sort of Warehouse or… storage.” 
The thought alone of what those faeries may be enduring down there had my hands curling into fists, knuckles going white. “Since Tamlin’s left there aren't really many rules standing, his people have been barely subsisting; it is not that uncommon that in times of need people tend to turn against their own.” 
Lucien’s face was grim, probably remembering what had happened and his role in it. He blinked twice, then said, “they could be using the rivers and the caves to get in and out without being noticed” he offered; “just like I used to do to get out of Autumn. I marked the rivers that flow closest to the caves and the closest villages. People may know something, maybe they'll turn their eyes from it if it’s convenient for them.” 
Rhysand leaned forward, studying the maps and annotations closely. “Good work, Y/N, Lucien. This is a start. We need to investigate this further and put a stop to it before more fae are taken.”
I nodded, feeling a sense of determination settle within me. We couldn't let this go on any longer. No more innocent lives taken or families torn apart.
I knew I was taking some risks with this, but I also knew that we couldn't let fear stop us from doing what was right. I would do whatever it takes to end this.
“We need to find out everything we can about this operation and shut it down. I can gain some time and winnow there tonight, for some ground recognition.” 
Rhysand stood up from his desk, tired and with a look of wariness written on his face, “ I would wait until Azriel returns from his meeting, then you can go together.” 
“I can very well do this on my own, Rhys. I’m not stupid and I’m very capable of taking care of myself.” I argued back. 
He looked reluctant at first, but he loosened a breath and said “I know you can. Lay low, gather whatever information you can but do not engage until Azriel arrives, understood? I’ll be sending him tomorrow morning.” 
“Fine” I said, rolling my eyes. But he went on, in that brotherly voice that always got me following his commands. 
“And be careful, we don't know what kind of forces we're dealing with here.”
I nodded and gave him a small smile. As we left the office, I couldn't help but think about Azriel. He would be on this mission with me, and I wasn't sure how I felt about that. But, for the sake of the mission and the fae that had been taken, we had to put our differences aside and work together.
“Thank you, Lucien” I said, fully facing the Autumn male, “I know you wouldn’t reveal information that could be used against your friend or his court. So thank you, for trusting me with this.” 
He seemed rather surprised for a second, eyes shining in the dim light,  but then a smirk cut on his lips. “I trust  you, little raven, I thought I’ve made that clear.” 
I smiled back at him. “Well yeah, but thank you anyways, I know you don’t get to hear those words around here very often.” I teared my gaze away from him into the open night beyond. I should leave soon. 
“I won’t keep you from your duties much longer” He said, shoving back a few strands of that auburn hair that had loosened from where he had pinned them to the side. “Stay safe Y/N, and if you thank me again you better start bowing next time” Lucien flashed a foxy grin as he started walking towards the house. 
I couldn’t help the chuckle from leaving my lips. “As you wish, good night Prince Charming.” 
I heard his breathy laugh even as I winnowed out of the city.  
—----------------------------------------------------------
The morning sun was rising over the horizon, casting a warm glow over the lush greenery of the Spring Court border. I was standing just outside the small inn I booked for the night, waiting for Azriel to arrive. I hadn’t found anything particularly shady last night, yet I couldn't help but feel uneasy about it. The whole village felt out of place. 
Azriel arrived on his shadow wings, landing gracefully in front of me. His black wings contrasted sharply with the bright blue sky, making him look even more intimidating than usual. "Let's go," he said curtly, motioning for me to follow him.
“Good morning to you too” I murmured under my breath; if he heard it or not he didn’t tell. 
We flew over the sprawling countryside, searching for any sign of the illegal trade. After hours of fruitless searching, we landed in a small village. The villagers looked tired and scared, their faces etched with worry lines. I made to approach one of the villagers and ask if they knew anything about people going missing these days.
The villager shook his head. "We don't know anything about it. Our High Lord abandoned us a few months ago, and we've been struggling to survive ever since. Some have left for other courts, it is not unusual to find this place so quiet."
That was a fact, I had spotted caravans moving across Prythian as I traveled through the courts. Entire families leaving their homeland behind in search of a better chance at survival. This place once full of life was really starting to look like an abandoned graveyard, drying lands and growing thorn bushes taking place. Where the hell had Tamlin gone?
Azriel's face darkened with anger. "This was a waste of time," he muttered. "We should never have come here."
A twinge of guilt crept up my spine. I knew it was a blind shot to try and find them here, but other than the utter state of abandonment of this court, I still had the feeling that something was off. There was this wrongness in the air. 
I dared another look in the direction of the villager but he was already gone. Weird. If Azriel wanted to leave then fine, I’ll investigate further on my own. 
Hours later as I walked through the village, I noticed a pair of eyes staring at me, following me around in the shadows. At first I thought Azriel had sent his shadows after me but…it didn’t feel like him. I neared the edge of a dense wood and turned to approach those watching cold eyes, my right hand flying to the hilt of the dagger strapped to my thigh. They seemed to narrow in silent mockery and as I stepped through the bushes I was met with nothing but a lingering darkness. What in hell had that been? 
I returned to the village, searching for Azriel, to tell him what I had seen. "There's definitely something going on here."
Azriel sighed, “I’ll tell you what’s going on here” he started coolly, “Their fucking coward of a High Lord bailed on his own people and now they’re trying to survive with the little they have left still standing, there are probably shadow markets functioning across the court for those who still remain and try to sell their goods for food. They don’t need two Night Court scouts snooping around their business so no one here is going to talk. That's what is happening here. No signs of your supposed “group of slavers”. People leave on their own accord to avoid starvation.”  
He stared down his nose at me “Are you done playing your stupid game here? I told you we should have headed for Autumn. Now let’s go, we need to report back to Rhysand; I’ll love to hear how you will explain to him that you wasted both our time and his resources on a hunch.” 
I didn’t want to show him that his words had sting, that it still affected me how little trust he had in me, in my capability, but my mouth went faster than my gathering thoughts:  
"Why do you have to be such an asshole to me all the time?", my temper quickly rising to the surface, undoubtedly twisting my face in anger, sliping past my usual mask of boredness. 
“Someone has to tell you the truth to your face at last.”
“What does that mean?” I said almost snarling at his cocky face. 
“It means you’re not as good as you think you are, and no one seems to want to acknowledge it. I think Rhys spoils you too much. He handles everything on a silver platter for you and you rejoice in the riches of it like you’ve earned it. You're not his fucking sister! No one can ever replace her, what you're doing it's just awful. And he's so damn blind to it.”
Every word felt like a dagger to my heart. I've rather had him skin me alive than to hear those words again. Of course I wasn't Rhys's sister, although I do love him like a brother, but I hadn't meant in any way to come off as a replacement for her. It just felt right, to be a part of a family for once that I hadn't thought twice about my relationship with Rhysand. Does he feel like he needs to cover my needs just because he couldn’t do it with her before? Because he feels guilty? Has he been giving tasks just to excuse the amount of money he pays me? 
I stumbled one step, two steps back away from him. From his space, so dense and thick with loathing it was suffocating. I leashed my anger, spiraling down into that pit of numbness I was so familiar with as I said, with a face as blank and unreadable as his own, “I’ll give him the full report. And don’t worry, I’ll pay him back every last copper that I know I owe to him if it means I’ll never have to see you again.” 
It was the venom laced in her voice that had Azriel backing off this time, a twinge of pain and guilt flashing in his eyes but she had already winnowed away. 
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goldenempyrean · 4 months
Note
I am LOVING your Marina stuff! Can I request a fic where Maya goes to work sick because duh it’s Maya, as a result she gets injured- nothing serious just broken ribs or a dislocated shoulder (basically anything that makes that makes coughing/sneezing/blowing her nose little bit more inconvenient). Cue hot Italian doctor wife looking after her :))
Doubled Down Misery
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〚 Notes - This request was adorable so hopefully I've done it some justice, please ignore any editing errors, It's late and despite unintentionally falling asleep at my desk for 6 hours I'm still tired :,) 〛
〚 Pairing - Maya Bishop x Carina Deluca 〛
〚 Summary - What happens when a too sick to work Maya Bishop gets injured and ends up at Grey Sloan? 〛
〚 Wordcount - 3,400 〛
〘 Check Out My Masterlist! 〙
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Maya dragged herself out of her bunk with a groan. God, everything hurt. Each movement seemed to make a different part of her body ache, a bitter reminder of the consequences of her stubbornness. She knew she should have called in sick when she felt this cold settling in her sinuses a few nights ago. Maya needed to rest. Captain Bishop needed to work. 
She’d hoped a nap would’ve had her feeling a little better but, in all honesty, she’d woken up feeling worse. The first call of her shift had been eventful. They’d been at the site 4 hours in the pouring rain, shouting orders and organising the scene had torn apart her already hoarse voice leaving it a raspy wreck. 
The blonde sat up woozily, blinking slowly as she adjusted to the spinning room. With a sudden, violent sneeze, she hastily covered her mouth with her elbow, the force of it causing her to sway unsteadily. Maya groaned, leaning back to flop back onto her bed but the moment her body made contact with the mattress, the blaring of the klaxon rang out. 
Maya's heart sank as the shrill sound pierced through her already throbbing head. She cursed under her breath before coughing deeply into her arm. She gave herself a second to compose herself before pushing herself off the bed, fighting against the wave of dizziness threatening to overwhelm her.  
By some miracle she managed to change into her turnouts without falling over and climbed into the engine. She slumped into the front seat, swallowing thickly as Andy slammed the engine into first gear as they hauled out of the station. 
Honestly, she tried her hardest to pay attention as dispatch relayed the information of the scene they were arriving at, but her sinuses demanded her attention. Maya scrunched up her nose, hoping to alleviate the burning itch but it didn’t seem to help. Her breath hitched. Maya tried to hold it off but an inevitable, sneeze seized her, and the firefighter hastily brought her elbow to her face, attempting to muffle the sound. "’Iiishhiew!" Her body jerked with the force of it, and she winced, feeling the ache in her ribs from the strain. 
Andy’s eyes glanced from the road to the sniffling blonde after her head ducked into her elbow twice more. She pulled down her headset and motioned for Bishop to do the same, “You sure you’re up to this? This storm isn’t letting up and you really don’t sound good Cap’.” 
“I’ll be okay.” Maya nodded, clearing her throat with a deep cough, before sniffling damply, “I just need to not lose my voice.” 
Andy gave her a look but said nothing, she knew Maya’s habit of pushing herself in times like this - the fear of being percussion as weak had been deep-rooted into her from childhood, something like that wasn’t easily overcome, “Well we’re only a block out now. Get yourself ready Mai’.” 
“This is gonna be rough.” 
✧.*  
Understatement of the fucking century. 
“What the hell happened?” Carina’s worried voice yelled above the commotion of the ER. She had just been finishing up a patient’s paperwork when she felt her heart drop as she caught site of the messy blonde hair visible from behind the crowd of numerous firefighters and doctors wheeling a bed through the corridor out of the corner of her eye. 
“Bambina?” Oh my god Maya!” The Italian practically dropped the file she’d been holding to race to her wife’s side. Maya was laying on her back, one arm clutching at her side with a visible grimace and the other in a makeshift sling as an oxygen mask was loosely attached to her face. 
“Carina. Carina!” Andy backed up from the bed to pull the doctor aside, encouraging her to take a deep breath as the other doctors got Maya settled in a bay, “She’s okay Carina, she’s gonna be okay. “ 
“Wh-what happened? Maya- she’s-“The brunette spiralled, looking around desperately to make sense of things, she was too worried to think straight. 
“Carina!” Andy gripped her shoulders and used her lieutenant voice, snapping the Italian back to reality, “She’s okay. I promise you, she’s okay. There was an incident at the scene. Maya ran in to save this little boy’s puppy and a support beam from the roof fell onto her. She was on oxygen on the way here for minor smoke inhalation but her O2 levels were improving when we arrived. We’re looking at a broken rib and or arm at the absolute worse, she will be absolutely fine Carina.” 
Carina nodded numbly; her eyes glued to Maya as the doctors continued to work around her. She could see the small grimaces on Maya’s face, the way she clenched her jaw in pain. 
She was just about to head to her side when the rest of the firefighters backed away from the bed, Jack and Travis came jogging towards them both. 
“They’re taking her to x-ray, Dr. Altman said to tell you she’s gonna hand everything.” Jack explained, giving Carina’s shoulder a comforting squeeze. Despite their initial incompatibility, the two had grown closer with the clinic and Jack knew just what Carina needed to hear to reassure her, “She also said that they’re gonna put her in another room since her condition doesn’t require urgent care. She’ll be in B.04 when they’re done.” 
The half an hour or so it had taken for them to be done felt like days. Time had felt like it had crawled by as Carina paced the room. The rest of the Station 19 team had been called away to another fire somewhere downtime and as much as they hated it, they had to attend. 
She was sat on the little armchair in the corner of the room when the door was pushed open by a nurse followed by the bed being wheeled in. “Maya!” Carina’s voice was loud as she called out, instantly jumping up to be at her side.  
“Carina?”  
“Mio Dio,” Carina nervously eyed up the sling that Maya’s right arm had been placed in, her worried gaze following as she noticed Teddy step into the room, “What on earth have you gotten yourself into bambina?” 
Dr. Altman calmed her down for a moment, flashing a reassuring smile, “Carina, Maya will be just fine. I’ll go over anything in a moment, I just need to set up a drip first, okay?” 
“Okay.” Carina nodded but wasted no time in coming to sit on the bed alongside her wife as, the firefighter mumbling something before curling up to her as the blonde doctor carefully inserted an IV into her left hand. 
“Okay. Well, let’s start with the worse of it. Maya had bruised several ribs and fractured her right radius, but please don’t worry, I can assure you theres no severe damage to either. She’ll need to keep the sling on for 4-6 weeks just to let the bone heal.” Teddy explained and instantly the OB could feel her jittering nerves relax as she squeezed Maya’s hand a little softer. 
“However, we took her temperature on arrival and it’s actually a little elevated though and her WBC count is slightly raised, not to mention the fact she’s clearly dehydrated so we’ve given her a fever reducer and general fluids along with the pain relief.” Dr Altman continued as she read from the chart in her hands. Maya stirred in Carina’s hold, turning her head away to cough raspily against her upper shoulder, whining softly at how it caused her chest to throb. 
“You can probably hear but her breathing is a little rough, but we heard congestion in her lungs. She most likely just has a viral infection from what Andy told us but ut we’ll keep an eye on her O2 just incase” 
The OB murmured sympathetically as her wife hid a sniffle against her shoulder, “This really isn’t your day is it sweetheart? Did you not feel well this morning?” 
“No- no, m’fine.” Maya’s eyes fluttered open, her brows furrowing as she tried to sit up a bit more, wincing as pain shot through her ribs. "Really, Carina, it's just a little cough. I'll be fine. I can—" 
"No, Maya," Carina interrupted firmly but lovingly, pressing her hand lightly against Maya’s shoulder to keep her from moving too much. "You need to listen to the doctors. You need to take care of yourself." 
Now that Teddy had mentioned it, the heat radiating from her was obvious. Carina leaned over to grab the thermometer which sat on the small nurses' station by Maya’s IV and gently inserted it into her ear, ignoring her fussing and protests. 
“38.6.” The screen flashed and Carina stuck out her lip, “That’s really not good Mai, were you seriously working with a fever that high?” 
Maya stubbornly shook her head, a defiant glint in her eyes despite the pain and discomfort. "I didn't even notice, Carina. It's just a little fever. I've worked with worse." 
Carina sighed, her worry mingling with frustration. "Maya, you can't keep pushing yourself like this. It’s not good for you!” 
She took a deep breath to calm herself down. Getting frustrated at her stubbornness wasn’t the right way to go about things. knew how Maya could be around doctors. Hell, she remembered just how frantic her wife could act around them. She was trying her best to keep her calm right now, but it was obvious how fidgety and uncomfortable her wife was getting. Ultimately all she could do now was try to soothe her through it. 
As Maya tried to assert her stubbornness, she suddenly sneezed loudly… twice, trice? She sniffled and bit back a wince, clutching her one useable arm to her ribs. 
Carina offered her a tissue, but she ignored it. Instead, Maya struggled herself to sit up, determination etched across her face despite the pain. "No, really, I can—" Her sentence was cut short as a harsh, grating cough overtook her, making her whole body convulse. The coughing fit seemed to drain what little strength she had left, and she gasped for breath in its aftermath, her chest rising and falling rapidly. 
Carina's heart ached watching her wife suffer, but she maintained a firm, soothing demeanour. She gently rubbed Maya's back, her touch both comforting and insistent. "Shhh, amore, you need to rest. Let the medicine work. Let us help you." 
“I don’t need help-“ Maya tried to stifle the cough, pressing her lips together and clenching her fists, but it only made things worse. She finally let it out, the sound echoing in the room, making Teddy glance over from her charts with a look of sympathy before discreetly taking a few steps back. 
The coughing had caused wave of pain passed over her, she bit her lip, her eyes filling with tears she couldn't hold back. Her breath hitched as she tried to stifle a sob, but it was no use. The combination of pain, fever, and sheer exhaustion finally overwhelmed her. 
"I just hate feeling like this," she whispered, her voice breaking as her face crumbled up, “I hate being weak." 
Carina tried to calm her down, gently murmuring sweet nothings in her native tongue, an action which usually helped to call her nerves. But May was restless. The movement was enough to send a sharp pain through her ribs, making her gasp sharply. The tears flowed more freely now, her body trembling with each painful sob. "But I can't... I have so much to do... I can't just lie here." 
Maya's shoulders slumped, and she let out a shaky breath. The tears spilled over, and she buried her face in Carina's shoulder, her body trembling with a deep, chesty rough followed by an exhausted sob. "I hate this," she cried. "I hate feeling so weak and useless. I’m meant to be their Captain.” 
The OB rubbed her back soothingly, her own eyes misting over with sympathy. "I know, bambina," she murmured. "I know it's hard love. But you are not weak or useless. You are hurt and sick, and you need time to heal. That's all. That does not make you any less of a captain.” 
After a few minutes of just letting her cry it all out, Maya began to slowly calm down. Eventually her sobs gradually subsided into sniffles, her breathing evening out as she clung to Carina. She was beyond exhausted. The two stayed comfortable together for a moment before Carina could feel Maya’s chest rising rapidly. She looked down and recognised the way her face shifted slightly, her eyes blinking as she fought back the itching in her sinuses' 
The OB smiled sweetly, “You want a tissue bambina?” 
“No, I don’t need—” Maya began, but she didn’t get to finish her sentence before Carina cut her off with a chuckle. 
“Your nose is twitching Mai’.” 
"You’re not fooling anyone, amore," She murmured softly. Her wife’s pale face flushed slightly, whether from embarrassment or the fever, “Just let it out.” 
Ever stubborn, the firefighter tried to shake her head once more, but the any denial was pointless when she was sent forward with an exhausting sounding sneeze. With her dominant arm in a sling, and her reaction speed slowed as an effect of the pain medicine, by the time she’d lifted her opposite hand to cover it had been too late, Carina’s baby-pink scrubs were caught in the crossfire. 
“Poor bambina, bless you. Ugh, I knew you were coming down with something when I heard you snoring the other night.” The doctor mumbled sadly as she reached over to grab a tissue from the nearby table, dabbing it gently beneath the blonde’s nose, “I’m sorry. I should’ve said something, maybe this wouldn’t have happened.” 
Maya only shook her head, the last of her voice scraping from her throat, “t’s not your fault. I should’ve let someone else go in. I-“ 
Carina shushed her gently, “Rest your voice Mai, you need to give your poor throat a break,” She turned to Dr. Altman - who had been finishing up Maya’s paperwork and chart - and gave her a grateful nod, “Thank you Teddy for treating her.” 
Teddy gave her a comforting smile, “I’ve told you already before that your family is my family, Carina. She’s okay to go home once that drip’s finished up. I’ll have an intern bring the discharge papers down in a few hours.” 
The Italian nodded, flashing her an appreciative smile. She mouthed another thank you as Dr. Altman left, closing the door behind her. The two were left alone in the room, Maya’s raspy breathing and damp sniffles the only audible sound. Carina leaned down to press a soft kiss to her messy hair, “Do you want me to plait it for you?” She asked quietly, knowing it would make her feel a little better. 
“Are you sure? I can’t smell but it probably smells of smoke.” The firefighter mumbled, sniffling thickly. 
The OB gave her another kiss, “You know I don’t care about that, are you able to sit forward for me a little bit bambina?”  
Her fingers gently combed through Maya's hair, soothing the tangles with careful, practiced movements. She reached for the small pink bobble on wrist, lifting a section of Maya's hair to start the plait 
As she carefully started weaving the strands into a neat braid, Maya’s nose twitched again, and she turned her head slightly, preparing for the inevitable sneeze. Carina, noticing the movement, quickly grabbed a tissue and held it gently to Maya's nose just in time. 
The sneeze was forceful, and Maya winced at the pain it caused her ribs. Carina kept the tissue in place, wiping away the moisture with a tender touch. 
“Bless you, bella,” Carina murmured, her tone full of affection. She discarded the tissue and continued braiding Maya's hair, her movements slow and deliberate. 
“I’m sorry,” Maya mumbled, turning slightly to look over her shoulder. 
Carina shook her head, a smile playing on her lips. “There’s nothing to be sorry for, Maya. You’re sick, and you’re allowed to be taken care of. You always look after me, sì? Let me do the same for you.” 
It didnt take long for her to finish the rest of her braid and it sat neat and tidy by Maya’s ear, safety out of the way. A much better alternative than her previous mess of tangles. She knew she couldn’t take away the pain and sickness entirely but anything to ease the discomfort she would do. 
Her face lit up as an idea popped into her head, “Do you want me to go get you a drink?” Carina asked kindly, she knew Maya probably hadn’t had time hence her dehydration, “I can run and get you one of those sports drinks you like. The ones with electrolytes?” 
“Can you get me the red berry one?”  
“Of course I can, stay put bella. I’ll be 5 minutes.” The doctor smiled, gently scooting from her place beside Maya, helping her settle back down before leaving the room. Her office wasn’t far away so she knew it wouldn’t take long. 
She had a small fridge in there. One which her kept not only her emergency comfort food in but one she kept a small stock of Maya’s favourite drinks in. It wasn’t the first time she’d seen her wife dehydrated and she always liked to be able to have something on hand. 
After walking swiftly to her office, she made a delighted noise of success when she realised, she did in-fact have the berry flavour that Maya had originally wanted.  
Carina grabbed the chilled bottle, feeling a sense of satisfaction at being able to provide exactly what Maya needed. She knew how much the little things mattered. Maya wasn’t sick often but whenever she was the brunette knew that all the small little acts of kindness was what would made her feel better. 
When she got back to the room, she honestly had expected Maya to have been asleep - the fever reducer Teddy had given her was one that always made patients tired - but her eyes widened as she came back to see her wife straining herself, attempting to stretch over to reach the box of tissues sat on the nearby table. 
“Hey, hey, careful, silly girl.” Carina sighed, coming back to her side 
“I just needed-“ A deep cough interrupted her as Maya failed to reach out for the tissue box, but it was out of her reach with her only useable hand still connected and she gave a defeated sniffle in response, rubbing her knuckles beneath her nose instead. 
Carina shook her head fondly and gave a gentle pout as she picked up the box and set it on Maya’s lap. She swiped a few before the blonde had the chance and held them up to her nose. 
“Blow bella.” 
The firefighter gave her a look and she could see the red flush of embarrassment creeping up her cheeks, “Maya there is nobody else here. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, just let me take care of you for once” Carina murmured in soft reassurance, “You’re safe.” 
Whether it was her little speech, or the fact Maya was simply too sleepy from her medicine to care anymore but she did end up blowing her nose whilst Carina kindly held the tissues for her, carefully cleaning up her face afterwards before pressing a soft kiss to her warm forehead. It did feel a little cooler than earlier now. 
“Good job bambina. That wasn’t too hard, no?” The OB whispered fondly, her hand coming to soothingly massage the blonde’s scalp in just the way she knew always made Maya sleepy. As Maya yawned, Carina remembered the drink she had originally come to collect. She handed it to her, making sure to open the small cap first. 
“Here my love, drink this for me and then you can a sleep, okay?” She murmured, a small grin playing on the lips when the blonde budged up to make room for her on the bed, “Just a few hours and then we’ll get you home as soon as your IV has finished, okay?” 
“Just a few hours?” 
“Yes bambina, just a few hours andthen we’ll get you home and back to bed, okay?” 
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miley1442111 · 4 months
Text
i can fix him (no really i can)- c.berzatto
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a/n: yes, i am a swifty.
summary: based off of i can fix him (no really i can) by taylor swift
pairings: carmen berzatto x fem! reader
warnings: carmen is an asshole, reader gets her revenge, sex tapes being sent around, revenge p!rn, smut, subcarmy (if you squint), 18+,
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The smoke cloud billows out his mouth
Like a freight train through a small town
The jokes that he told across the bar
Were revolting and far too loud
Carmen had a few bad habits, mainly smoking, a low eq, and a tendency to overshare when he got drunk. One of the new line chefs had come up to you in recent weeks, joking about how you sounded when you had sex. Carmen had shown him the video he promised he wouldn’t show anyone. Not just that, he’d sent the video into the staff group chat for everyone to see.
Asshole.
They shake their heads sayin', "God, help her"
When I tell 'em he's my man
But your good Lord doesn't need to lift a finger
I can fix him, no, really, I can
And only I can
“I feel bad for her,” Richie sighed as he brought the cigarette to his lips. “You’re a fucking jagoff.”
“I was drunk,” Carmen groaned. “It was a mistake!”
“She still talkin’ to you?” He asked. 
“‘Is she still talkin’ to me’? What kind of asshole question is that, yes, you dumbfuck,” He hit the back of Richie’s head, sending his cigarette flying. 
“Fucking asshole,” Richie mumbled under his breath as he walked back inside. 
The dopamine races through his brain
On a six-lane Texas highway
His hand so calloused from his pistol
Softly traces hearts on my face
And I could see it from a mile away
A perfect case for my certain skill set
He had a halo of the highest gradе
He just hadn't met me yеt
As Carmen drove home he thought about the reaction you’d give, whether you’d be mad, or if you’d break up with him or something even worse. 
He had no idea. 
He remebered what he'd done when you told him first.
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"Carm, what the fuck did you post on the Bear groupchat?" you questioned, humiliation and anger bubbling in your blood.
"Huh?" he asked.
"Carmen, fucking look at your phone!" You shouted. Carmen immediately fumbled for his phone, opening it and seeing the private thing he'd shared.
"Fuck," he groaned.
"Yeah, fuck indeed. You're barely in that video and you swore to me that you'd never show it to anyone!" You shouted.
"Baby, it was a mistake-"
"Fuck a mistake! A mistake is forgetting your keys, a mistake is not locking the backdoor of the restaurant up, this was no fucking mistake!" you screamed. "Take it down now."
Carmen was getting angry now, he felt controlled and he could feel the weight and consequences of his actions.
"Why? It's the only fucking thing you're good for."
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They shake their heads sayin', "God, help her"
When I tell 'em he's my man
But your good Lord doesn't need to lift a finger
I can fix him, no, really, I can
And only I can
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He opened the front door of your shared apartment and saw the light on in the bedroom. He dropped his bags, tired as he sauntered into the bedroom. There you were, a vision in a set of red lingerie, a set he’d bought you a few weeks back. His mouth watered when he heard your small whimpers as you worked the toy over your aching core. He immediately pulled off his shirt, and you didn’t even notice him. He lay beside you, grabbing a condom out of the drawer but you stopped him.
“You’re not touching me tonight,” you smirked. Carm’s face dropped. 
“Baby-” He whined. “Please, I’m so sorry-”
“I don’t wanna hear it,” your sentence was interrupted by a groan, the toy hitting a new spot that triggered your climax. 
“Please baby-”
“Beg for it then,” you smirked, coming down from your high. 
Good boy, that's right, come close
I'll show you Heaven if you'll be an angel, all night
Trust me, I can handle me a dangerous man
No, really, I can
“Please,” he began. “I’m so sorry, I was drunk and stupid and you look so pretty, so, so pretty and I need to touch you, I-I need you, p-please,” he groaned when your hand surpassed his waistband. 
“Don’t stop,” you smirked. 
“I’m so sorry, y-you’re just so perfect, I-I wanted to share you-” 
“You want someone else in here fucking me?” You asked, a giggle in your voice. 
“No! No. I-I wanna fuck you, I do, please let me fuck you,” he begged as you laughed at his sudden reaction. You dragged your hand up and down his length as he groaned, squeezing his eyes shut. 
“I’m sure you’d love to have another person in here, watching you get fucked. Or you get fucked by two people, god you’re such a slut,” you laughed at him as beads of sweat dripped down his chest. “Not my good boy anymore, no?”
“Yes! Yes! Just you, just you-” He clapped a hand over his mouth as he came, biting into the skin. 
As he came down he kissed you, and apologised, you accepted with a promise from him to never show the videos to anyone ever again, to be careful when he was drunk. 
They shook their heads sayin', "God, help her"
When I told 'em he's my man (I told 'em he's my man)
But your good Lord didn't need to lift a finger
I can fix him, no, really, I can (No, really, I can)
When he walked into work the next day, he was confused by the laughs and jokes sent his way. That was until he saw your letter of resignation with a note beside it, reading: 
You should’ve been more careful ;)
He opened his phone to find the video of that night sent to the staff group chat, just like yours had been. 
Woah, maybe I can't
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the bear masterlist :)
tortured poets department masterlist :)
navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, marvel, top gun, challengers, obx+)
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ironstrange1991 · 1 year
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Need
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Pairing: Doctor!Strange, Defender!Strange, Supreme!Strange x Fem!Reader
Synopsis: After the reader breaks one of the Sanctum relics, she starts to feel a little strange and it is up to the Stephens to deal with the situation in the best way possible.
Word Count: 7k
Warnings: Polyamorous relationship dinamics. SMUT: Sex pollen, oral sex with male receiving, masturbation with male receiving, umprotected p in v sex, creampie, cum eating, slight spanking, slight degradation kink, there is probably more stuff that I am not remembering.
A/N: It took me almost a month to write this fic and I know many of you are anxious to finally read it, so I hope you like it and have a good reading.
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You weren't feeling well. Your body was aching, but it wasn't a normal kind of pain, it was something very specific. At first you didn't pay attention to the sensations when they started, you ignored them as much as you could because you were worried and embarrassed about having broken one of the Sanctum's relics and you had no idea how to tell Stephen because you were tired of hearing phrases like: Don't touch things you don't know what they are; Don't mess with the relics; Stay away from magical artifacts.
You always did like you were told, but sometimes you needed to clean one shelf or another, you couldn't stand to see the dust gathering and Stephen never remembered to clean them and Defender never had time when you asked him to, so sometimes, against their advice, you did a good job cleaning everything.
It was exactly what you had done that morning. Since you were off work and the three Stephens were busy doing god knows what and you'd be spending the day alone, you decided to be productive and clean up the parts of the Sanctum that were always overlooked in routine cleaning.
Everything was going perfectly fine until you bumped into one of the many vases on the pedestals in the Window of the Worlds Room and it smashed to the floor. Inside the vase there was only earth. Or you thought it was earth, although you could have sworn you smelled a strange smell coming from it. It was a black and thin substance that, when it fell to the ground, raised a cloud of dust, soiling your clothes.
"What the fuck, Y/n" You screamed to yourself bringing your hand to your mouth completely paralyzed. It took a few minutes for you to calm down and clean up everything. As you put the pieces of the vase in a box and tried to pick up that disgusting dust from the floor to dump it in a plastic bag you were pretty sure you inhaled a lot of the substance, but you tried your best not to think about what that meant, although a thought insistent in the back of your head made you scared to death that the thing was actually the ashes of some important master who had died centuries ago and was now stuck to your hands and clothes.
But there were more important things to think about. For example, how were you going to tell Stephen that? He would be so mad at you.
Finally, you hid the box and plastic bag with all the earth you could pick up from the floor and put it on a shelf at the back of the library. You continued cleaning and tried to calm your anxiety by telling yourself that the best thing to do was to tell Defender what happened and ask him to fix the relic before Stephen noticed. You just knew he wasn't going to get mad at you and he would do his best to help you hide it from the other Stephens.
You were finishing your cleaning when you noticed the first symptoms. You felt a little dizzy and thought that was why you hadn't eaten anything in the morning, but then you started to feel hot. Very hot. Which wasn't normal since you were in the middle of autumn.
The other symptoms took longer to appear and it took you a while to notice that something was really wrong.
You noticed that you were thinking about Stephen a lot, which to a certain extent was normal, you thought about your Stephens all the time, however you were thinking about specific parts of their bodies and very specific things they did to you in bed and it was leaving you in an almost unbearable state of arousal.
By mid-day it was clear that those sensations were not normal, mainly because you tried to solve the problem yourself with one of your vibrators and you didn't get any results, in fact the situation seemed to get worse.
You were horny, sweating and aching for Stephen to the point where it became a real pain right between your legs. You couldn't think straight, but you knew it must have something to do with the substance you inhaled and seeing that your symptoms seemed to get stronger by the minute, you overcame your fear and shame and called the first Stephen in your cellphone speed dial.
The phone rang a few times until finally you heard the familiar baritone voice. The sound somehow made the ache between your legs increase.
"Stephen… can you come home, please?"
You didn't pay attention to how your voice sounded, but his response sounded worried. "Y/n? What happened?"
You inhaled and exhaled through your mouth "I'm not feeling well. Stephen, please... can you come home?"
"Honey, tell me what happened." Supreme insisted on an answer.
"Please Stephen, Hurry up!"
...
Stephen and Defender were talking to Wong in his office when Stephen's phone rang. He looked on the screen and seeing that it was Supreme he just declined the call. Whatever it was, it could wait.
A few seconds later Defender's cell phone rang and he excused himself to Wong and left the room to answer it. He came back quickly seeming worried.
"Something happened to Y/n. We need to go home."
Wong didn't ask any questions, he just waved towards the door "Well, go ahead then. Let me know if you need anything."
Stephen walked out of Wong's office with Defender on his heels.
"What exactly did she say?" He asked putting his sling ring on his finger.
"Supreme said she called him begging him to come home. Said she's not feeling well."
Stephen opened a portal to the Sanctum's living room and the two walked through it, finding the room empty.
"And why did she call him?" Stephen didn’t even try to hide his annoyance.
"This is no time to be jealous, Doctor." Defender answered while they went up the stairs and crossed the corridor quickly finding the door to the master bedroom, Stephen's room, open.
When they got there, they found Y/n sitting on Supreme's lap, both arms thrown around his shoulders, face hidden in the crook of his neck. He was stroking her hair, whispering in her ear.
"What happened?" Stephen asked, quickly noticing that her skin was red and glowing, her clothes was wet with sweat.
Hearing his voice, she got up and ran to him, her arms wrapping around his neck, her lips colliding against his. Stephen kissed her quickly, but brought his hand to her forehead.
"Christ, she is burning!" He said casting a worried look at Defender.
Defender touched her arm and as if she had only noticed his presence at that moment, she let go of Stephen and threw herself into his arms.
"I'm sorry, baby. It was my fault."
Defender shushed her "What happened, baby?"
"I was cleaning the house and... it was an accident, I didn't want to break anything, you know I'm always careful with your things..."
Defender shushed her and faced Stephen worriedly. "We should take her to the hospital."
Stephen nodded "Sweetheart, whatever you broke, we'll fix it later. Now, tell me what you're feeling."
She faced him shyly taking Defender's hand and lowering it until it reached between her legs "I’m feeling weird here."
The two Stephens glared at each other and Supreme chuckled nervously. "Did you notice the smell on her clothes?"
Defender buried his face in the crook of her neck and inhaled deeply. She moaned softly and shamelessly rubbed herself in Defender's hand. "Baby, please. Make the ache go away."
Stephen sighed heavily "What exactly did you break, sweetheart?"
"A vase. It was on one of the pedestals in the Window of the Worlds room."
Stephen shook his head "If it's what I think it is, it could take hours for her to get better and the symptoms are only going to get worse unless we..." He didn't finish what he was saying, instead he glanced at Y/ n moaning and grinding herself in Defender’s hand like a cat in heat.
"Baby...please." She whined.
Defender shushed her and placed a kiss on her forehead. "It's okay, baby. We'll make the ache go away."
Supreme stood up "I'm going to lock the Sanctum. Hope you guys saved your energy today.
...
You were burning. Inside out. But unlike any other known fever you didn't feel cold, you were literally melting in beaks of sweat.
Stephen insisted on putting you under the shower to remove any trace of the magical substance that was stuck to your skin and although the water was cold, you were still burning.
He insisted on soaping you up like he was bathing a child and the whole time he kept his face straight and didn't say a word. That, along with all the weird sensations in your body, brought tears to your eyes.
"I'm sorry, Stephen." You apologized for the thousandth time, your voice trembling. "Please, don't be mad at me."
He sighed heavily helping you rinse the soap off your body and smiled reassuringly "I'm not mad at you. I'm just worried. I don't know how long this is going to last."
You whimpered hearing those words. You just wanted it to stop. "Don't you have any spells you can use?"
He shook his head "Not that I know of, at least." He turned off the shower and wrapped you in a towel "Come on, let me take you to bed, I'll take care of you."
Supreme and Defender were in the room sitting in the two armchairs next to the fireplace, but the fire had been put out.
Stephen touched your forehead "The temperature dropped a little with the cold water" He said sitting you on the bed and going to the wardrobe to get a change of clothes for you.
"I don't feel any better. It's too hot." You complained looking at the silk pajamas he chose for you to wear. "I don't want to get dressed, Stephen. I just said it's too hot."
He sighed rolling his lips "Okay, Sweetheart, as you wish." He placed the change of clothes on top of the bedside table looking unsure of his next actions, so you let go of the towel letting it fall down your naked body. "I need you."
He gave Supreme and Defender a quick look as if he was expecting some kind of approval and you spread your legs so he could fit between them.
Stephen touched your face and allowed himself a smirk "I never thought I would have to make love to you under these circumstances, love. This is for you to learn to listen to me and not mess with the Sanctum relics."
You pouted "But you want to make love to me, don't you?"
He took off the shirt he was wearing and you were eager to touch his defined chest. You scratched at his skin, your hand going down to the waistband of his pants. You helped him to undress. He was hard already and you couldn't help but devour him with your eyes.
Stephen grabbed your chin making you look into his eyes. "I always want to make love to you, sweetheart. Always. But something tells me that’s not what you need today."
You grabbed his cock and started to pump him and Stephen let out a little groan watching you spit in your hand and stroke him nice and hard to get him ready for you. He gently pulled your hand away and took over giving his cock a couple of jerks.
“You need to be fucked and that’s precisely what I’m going to do to you now.” He finally entered you drawing a loud moan from your lips. The feeling inside you seemed to intensify for a moment, but when he started to move you felt relief, it was like you could finally breathe after being submerged for so long.
"Oh Stephen..."
Stephen groaned, his face in the crook of your neck, your legs entwined behind his back. He wasn't being gentle and you didn't want him to be. He was right, this definitely wasn't about making love at all, you were filled with the most basic, primal desire to be dominated by a man and be used without mercy.
Stephen leaned on one of the canopy columns of the bed and considerably increased the strength of his thrusts.
"Yes, right there, Stephen."
He grabbed your chin making you look at him "Does it feel better now?" He asked, his breathing coming in between gasps.
You just nodded.
"I know. My cock is making you feel a lot better, isn't it, sweetheart?"
 You nodded vehemently and clung to his neck, searching for his lips as if you needed them to breathe.
"I need you to come, Stephen. Inside me. It will help, I know it will help. Please."
Stephen groaned loud "Need my cum inside you, uh? That will make the pain go away?"
"Yes, yes, it will. Please, Stephen, cum for me, cum inside me, give it all to me."
Stephen buried his face in your neck getting carried away by the moment and let out a loud moan right by your ear and his thrusts stopped completely and you felt his cum spurting inside of you, thick, warm and so much of it. You moaned feeling a different kind of climax. You didn't come, but it was like your body was reveling in the sensation of having his cum inside you. Like the body of a person who has spent days in the desert and can finally feel the water running down their throat.
Stephen kissed you gently and pulled out. "How does it feel now? Better?" He asked, checking on you. He was panting.
You felt slightly better, but the fire still burned between your legs. Somehow you knew it was far from over.
You bit your inner lip and shook your head.
"It may take some time to actually get better, but we're here, we'll take care of you."
You wrapped your arms around him pulling him back on top of you "I need more, Steph, please..."
He chuckled. "I need a few minutes to get ready for you again, sweetheart." He responded placing a peck on your lips and then addressed Supreme. "She needs more. You take over now?"
Supreme got up with an ironic smile on his lips "Tired already, Doctor?"
Stephen pressed his tongue against the inside of his cheek, but he didn't respond, wisely deciding that this wasn't the time to argue.
When Supreme approached you stopping beside the bed there was a smirk on his lips and his eyes showed that he was holding back his laughter.
"It's not funny, Stephen." You said slightly offended.
"I know, I know this is a terrible situation, honey, but I can't help it." He said giggling and pulling you to his lips. You slapped his shoulder, but kissed him anyway. You reached for his belts, but he snapped his fingers impatiently and quickly got rid of his robes. You pulled him on top of you, letting his body weight make his cock rub against your clit. It felt good, very good.
You moaned pornographically loudly.
"Of all the relics, you had to bump into that vase." He said nibbling your bottom lip and teasing you.
"Stephen, please..."
"I know, I know." He patted your hip "Turn around. Get on your hands and knees for me."
You complied, but he tsked "Turn full length on the bed. Let's give the other Stephens a better view of our actions."
You did as you were told and pulled a pillow up to your head, hugging it tight and lifting your ass as high as possible. Supreme rubbed the tip of his cock on your slit, using Stephen's cum as lube. He put two fingers inside you fingering you and gave his cock a couple of jerks and finally, finally, entered you with a hard thrust.
He stopped with his dick buried inside you enjoying the feeling "Fuck, honey, you feel so good, so impossibly warm..."
"Stephen, please move." You begged and moaned loudly when he did as you asked. He rested both hands on your waist pulling you against his thrusts at an incredibly fast pace.
"Oh my god yes, yes Stephen, just like that, fuck me just like that.”
He slapped your ass cheek hard, much harder than you were used to, making you yelp. "Yeah, just like that? Who could tell a magical relic could turn my girl into such a needy little whore, uh?"
You whimpered softly feeling the mixture of pleasure and relief flood your body, Stephen's teasing having an effect on you. "Y-Yes, Stephen"
He slapped you again and kept his pace incredibly rough "Such a needy little thing desperate to be fucked. Aren't you ashamed?"
You shook your head no "It feels good, Steph... when you fuck me like this. So good."
Stephen groaned obscenely loud, his fingers carving the flesh of your hips, his heavy balls slamming against your clit as he fucked your pussy with such hunger.
"I know, honey. It feels good for me too. Your pussy is so warm and so delicious... wanna cum inside and fill you with my seed. Will it help calm the ache?"
"Y-yes, it will, please give it to me, Stephen."
You bit the pillow suppressing your desperate moans that were quickly escalating to screams.
"Oh, I will, but I want to enjoy this warm little pussy a bit more. It feels so good."
He brought one of his hands to your hair, gripping it tightly and pulling, using it as a rein to pull you against his thrusts. It felt so good, so right to give yourself to him like that, for a minute all that existed was the two of you and the sounds of the sex you were having, loud and wet.
"F-Feels so good, Stephen, cock's fucking me so good. It's so big."
He slapped your ass ever harder this time, the sharp pain somehow adding to your pleasure. "Cock feels good inside your pussy, uh honey? You know what, I think you made it on purpose, wanted to know how it would feel to be this horny for my cock."
"N-No, I didn't. But it feels good when you're fucking me." You moaned loudly and bit the pillow feeling your whole body tingling with a strange sensation, it was almost as if you could feel your orgasm approaching, but at the same time it was different, too strange, and too strong and it all felt too much. "Please, Stephen cum, it feels too much, I need you to cum."
Stephen groaned "Beg for it, just one more time."
"P-Please Steph, I need your cum, please cum inside me, please."
And so he did. Stephen's thrusts came to a halt, he moaned so loud and you felt his cum spurting inside you. It felt good and you felt relieved. Your legs gave out and you fell face down on the mattress. Stephen supported his body weight on his arms and kissed your cheek.
"Good girl. Tell me, does it feel any better now, or do you need more?
You were panting, your heart was pounding in your ears, yet you know you were far from sated. "N-Need more."
You were scared by the intensity of it. The relief you felt when he was fucking you, or pushing his cum inside you, gave way to the already known need, a desire for sex that seemed inhuman.
"I know, honey. We'll give you more."
...
Defender was extremely hard. His cock was throbbing desperately asking for Y/n, and it couldn't be any different. Even though he was used to sharing her in bed with the other Stephens, watching them fuck her was still one of the most arousing things he'd ever done in his life. Over time he stopped questioning whether that was right or wrong and just enjoyed the moment.
He couldn't believe such a silly accident could have led to that, and the problem wasn’t that she would have to have sex for the rest of the day and they would have to provide that for her, that was a privilege. The thing that was bothering Stephen was that she was, to a certain extent, suffering, and he wanted to alleviate that, he wanted to make the ache go away.
He went to her, eager to play his part, but first, he conjured a glass of water and made her drink it. He took the hair tie that held his hair and tied hers in a ponytail.
"It'll help with the heat." He said caressing her face. "I wish there was more I could do, baby."
She threw herself into his arms, wrapping her arms around his neck "I'm sorry..."
"Shh, its okay, we are not mad at you, none of us are mad at you. It was an accident, accidents happen."
Y/n sought his lips desperately and he kissed her. Her hands were eager to free him from his robes.
Stephen let her undress him. He kicked off his boots and got rid of his pants and boxers and sat on the bed, leaning against the headboard.
She grabbed his cock and spat on it and swallowed it whole with such a hunger that Stephen gasped. She started bobbing her head along his length and Stephen grabbed her ponytail and let himself indulge in the feeling of her mouth sucking his cock for a minute, but as soon as he realized how that wasn't going to help her situation at all, he gently grabbed her chin and pulled her off his cock.
"Baby, you shouldn't make me cum in your mouth, it would be a waste. You need it inside, remember?"
She nodded with a sweet pout "But it feels good when I such your cock, baby."
Defender almost melted at those words. God, she was so lovely and he was so in love with her that sometimes it felt like his chest was going to explode. So much love that he never dreamed of being able to feel before he met her.
He pulled her to his lips and she moved to straddle him. "I know it'll be even better if you ride me, baby. What do you think, uh? Would you like to use me to make yourself cum?"
She nodded and he guided his cock to her entrance and she lowered her body letting him stretch her inch by inch.
"Oh, baby it feels so good." She moaned resting both hands on his shoulders.
Stephen let out a soft groan "Yeah? Use me then, baby. Fuck me any way you want. I'm yours."
She moaned loudly and began to ride him at first slowly and then increased the pace, fucking him fast and hard, riding him with such desperation. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him for a passionate kiss, eliciting a hum from him and Stephen closed his eyes forgetting for a moment why they were making love like that in the middle of the day. He just concentrated on the wonderful feeling of having her tight and warm pussy around his cock, squeezing him incredibly tight.
Y/n let herself be carried away by the moment, her forehead pressed against his, her lips stealing passionate kisses from his lips. It felt so good, definitely too good.
Stephen held her waist to make her stop for a second. "Slow down, baby. Don't make me cum yet, I want to last for you."
She nodded, but her hips kept moving albeit slowly. "It feels good. Your cock is making me feel so good, Stephen."
"Your pussy feels amazing too, baby. I never get tired of making love to you, you know that?" He cupped her face and kissed her ardently and in one swift movement he placed her under him and entered inside her again, thrusting slowly but putting intensity into the movements, going deep enough to reach that special part of her that always made her moan louder. . And as soon as he found it, she whimpered.
"Y-yes, baby, right there."
She locked her legs behind his back and dug her nails into his skin.
"Gonna cum for me, uh?" He teased.
Y/n nodded. "Yes, yes, baby, I'm so close. Wanna cum, Steph, please."
Stephen leaned on the headboard to increase the intensity of the thrusts and put his other hand between them, he started rubbing her clit in circles and instantly he felt her pussy fluttering around his cock. She closed her eyes and her whole body started to shake.
"That's it baby, don't hold back, cum for me."
She moaned outrageously loud and grabbed a handful of his hair pulling him to her lips. Stephen kissed her passionately and kept thrusting, prolonging her climax and feeling his balls tightening.
"Fuck baby, wanna cum in you. Can I cum, love? Tell me I can cum."
She smiled sweetly. "Y-yes...cum baby...inside." Her voice sounded shaky and so sweet. Stephen buried his face in her neck and gave a couple of intense thrusts before coming to a complete stop, emptying himself into her.
Stephen knew it didn't matter how many times he had come inside her, every time was special and it always made him feel like the happiest man in the world.
...
You opened your eyes feeling your body tired, but you were far from sated. Although the strange feeling and heat had subsided considerably, the arousal you felt was far from being considered normal. Your body was trembling under Stephen, you were feeling weird in your stomach and your walls were clenching around his cock as evidence of how much you still wanted him.
Stephen's heavy breathing in your ear didn't do much to help your situation as you loved the sounds they made when they finished on you.
You stroked his hair gently kissing the top of his head.
 "How are you feeling right now?" He asked in your ear and kissed your lips gently.
"Better, but I still want you." You replied feeling your cheeks getting hot, but deciding to get over your shyness. There was no room for that when you were with your men. "Actually, I think I need my three Stephens now." You confessed.
He smirked cupping your cheek and kissing your lips again. "Yeah? I'm sure the others are eager to join us."
He pulled out and you stretched out on the bed. You were feeling a little sore between your legs, but you didn't pay much attention to that.
He conjured a cloth to clean you up. "We made a mess on you, baby." He admitted making you chuckle.
"I like it."
You waited patiently while he cleaned you up carefully, being extra affectionate. When he was finally satisfied with his work, he got rid of the dirty cloth and kissed you. Your fingers tangled in his hair and he let out a soft moan. So soft and so sweet.
"I want your mouth now, baby, if that's okay." He asked nibbling on your bottom lip.
You nodded, but gently pushed him away so you could sit down. You hooked your finger, inviting the other Stephens to join in too.
"There's room for more Stephens in this bed." You teased.
Stephen, who had put his boxers back on, walked promptly to you, his cock visibly hard beneath the white fabric. There was a smirk on his lips as he sat down on the mattress beside you and stroked your cheek, the tension from before long gone.
"You have no idea what it's like for me to see them fuck you, sweetheart." He confessed taking your hand and leading it to his cock. "You look so good while being fucked, taking them so well. You make me so proud."
"Hm, I love being fucked by all my Stephens. I feel like the luckiest woman in the world." You responded grabbing his cock through the fabric, moving to sit on his lap and pulling him to your lips. He wrapped his arms around you and thrusted his tongue into your mouth, dominating yours in a big, wet, jealous kiss. It was you who broke the kiss first, running your lips down his neck, biting and sucking the skin while grinding yourself back and forth in his shaft.
He groaned and patted your ass and suggested "Get on all fours and stick that luscious ass out for me so you can suck Defender while I fuck you from behind. What do you think, Sweetheart?"
You nodded, smiling slyly, but cast a questioning look at Supreme who was still sitting, smoking a cigarette and watching you intently.
He smirked "I'll join you soon, honey. Now, do as he says, make me proud."
You nodded at him dismounting from Stephen's lap and positioned yourself on all fours making sure to stick your ass as high as possible while wrapping your arms around Defender's thighs and grabbing his cock. You gave him a teasing look before popping it into your mouth eliciting a loud moan from his lips. He threw his head back indulging in the pleasure of it.
"Fuck baby. Oh yes...she really knows how to suck dick." He praised and Stephen chuckled proudly.
"I know, she is amazing." Stephen answered slapping your ass. "Isn't that right, sweetheart? Show him you're the best."
You let out a muffled moan when Stephen thrust two fingers into your pussy and started to fuck you with them. You felt him nudging your entrance with the tip of his cock and you wiggled your ass teasingly as he gripped your waist tight and entered you with a single thrust. You would have screamed if your mouth wasn't stuffed with Defender's cock.
Stephen kept the pace fast and strong and Defender grabbed your hair that was starting to come loose from the hair tie and wrapped it around his hand, but he didn't push. "That's right, baby, feels so good. Flick that wonderful tongue on the head. Yes, just like that. Such a good girl, such a good baby sucking my cock so good."
You groaned loudly, loving hearing Defender loosing up like that. Usually, he was always very modest in dirty talk, which only made the moment even more exciting.
Stephen slapped your ass again, harder this time, and pulled his cock out of you, teasing. "Such a dirty little girl taking my cock so well, uh? And sucking Defender's dick too. You drive me crazy, you know that? Make me wanna fucking ruin you."
You took Defender's cock out of your mouth to respond to his taunts. "Ruin me, Steph. Fuck me til I can't walk. I'm still so horny."
"Yeah? I guarantee you learned a lesson today, didn't you?"
You pumped Defender’s cock hard and replied "You guys aren't mad at me?"
 "How could I be mad at you if your disobedience resulted in the three of us fucking you like that?" Stephen replied entering you all at once and starting to pound into you, the sound of flesh against flesh and your breaths and moans was all you could hear.
Defender pulled you to his lips, fucking your mouth with his tongue as you let out a moan on his lips.
"He's right, baby. You need to be more careful, but none of us are mad at you. How could we…"
He directed you back to his cock and you spat at it and shoved it in your mouth going all the way down this time, feeling the tip hitting against the back of your throat.
He groaned loudly. "...when you suck cock like that? Fuck, baby. You’re gonna make me cum."
You just hummed in response.
"Is that what you want? Want my cum in your mouth?"
You hummed positively making Stephen groan in response. "Such a dirty little thing. She needs cum in all her holes today, isn't that right, sweetheart?"
"Uh hum" You hummed while Stephen fucked your pussy in such violent pace. You put your all into your work, swallowing Defender's cock and then taking it out of your mouth and flicking your tongue at the head and sucking hard and then running your tongue down the length of it just to swallow it again and repeating the process until he moaned loudly and grabbed a handful of your hair and spurted ropes of his warm cum into your mouth.
"Oh fuck..." He let out something between a groan and a chuckle. "Take it, baby. Swallow it all."
You were aware that this was definitely not Defender's usual behavior, he was usually much softer than that and much less talkative, but you couldn't deny how much that side of him appealed to you.
His moans were like music to your ears. "That's it baby... so fucking good. Oh... love you so much."
You took his cock out of your mouth and made sure you opened it for him to see his cum inside and only then did you do as you were told, swallowing everything and sticking your tongue out for him to see.
“So fucking dirty.” He groaned pulling you to his lips.
"I love you too" You moaned in his lips as Stephen's thrusts became more erratic and you could feel him pulsing inside you.
He let out a loud groan. "Fuck sweetheart, pussy feels too good, gonna cum, tell me you want my cum too, tell me how much you need it."
You moaned feeling that you were close too. Your body responding to his thrusts, the coil threatening to snap each time he hit your sweet spot. "Fuck yes, Steph. N-need your cum, give it to me."
He grabbed your hair and pulled it pulling you against his chest as he fucked you mercilessly.
"Body is desperate for more cum, uh? You're leaking and you still need more?" He teased whispering in your ear.
"Y-Yes. Need more."
"Yeah? You're a greedy little whore, aren't you? One Stephen isn't enough, it takes three to fill that pussy with cum and make the ache go away?"
"Uh hum" You hummed feeling that you were very close to your second orgasm. "Stephen... wanna cum."
Stephen bit your earlobe and lowered one of his hands to the middle of your legs and began to rub your clit in circles. You let out a loud moan. "Oh yes, Steph, make me cum."
He hummed in your ear making sure to rub his goatee in your skin, making it prickle. "Then say it: I'm a greedy little whore who needs three Stephens to satisfy me."
You whimpered repeating the words the way he wanted and once he was done with his teasing he started to pound into you even harder and that added to the stimulation of his long fingers on your clit was enough to make you come, but this time it was bigger, more intense and you felt warm liquid running down your legs. Stephen groaned loudly and started to spurt his cum inside you. He didn't stop thrusting until he was fully finished, pushing his cum inside you with each thrust.
"F-Fuck yes. Oh my god, sweetheart... the things you do to me..."
You felt your legs shaking and Stephen pulled out and you sat up in bed. Your entire body was shaking with the intensity of your orgasm.
"Fuck sweetheart, you squirted all over the bed, made a mess." He stated, but there was a certain pride in his eyes, the corners of his mouth curled up in a smirk. "Was it that good?"
You nodded letting yourself be pulled into Supreme's lap who had returned to bed. You were so lost in your pleasure that you didn't even notice Defender pulling away, he was sitting in the armchair by the fireplace now, dressed in sweatpants, his hair pulled back in a messy bun. He smiled proudly at you, deciding to just enjoy the show as now he was satisfied.
"First time wetting the bed like that, honey? You're going to have to do it again for me now." Supreme teased but you knew he was serious, you could see in the way his irises darkened that he was jealous.
"I... don't know how I did it." You replied feeling your face getting hot. "I never..."
"He knows, sweetheart." Stephen chuckled "I'm sure it will happen again sometime. Now, give me a kiss." He cupped your chin and kissed you and then got up and walked gloriously naked to the bathroom.
Supreme held your chin between his thumb and index finger making you look at him. "How you're feeling now? Pussy still feeling weird?"
You stroked his hair, tucking a few white strands behind his ear and trying to understand how you felt. The desperation and the heat had passed, your body was tired and sore, but you still felt the desire for sex and you knew that wasn't normal, because you had already come twice, the second one being the most intense orgasm you've ever experienced.
"I'm feeling better, but I still need you." You replied cupping his face.
He smirked "That pollen really turned you into an insatiable little thing, didn't it?"
You nodded feeling your cheeks getting hot and buried your face in the crook of his neck. "I didn't do it on purpose. I didn't even know what was in that vase."
He stroked your back, his trembling fingertips brushing lightly across your skin. "I know, I was just teasing you, honey. We know you don't need pollen to be horny."
He took your hand and led it down to his cock. He was so hard for you.
You wrapped your fingers around his cock and turned your head to capture his lips in a hungry kiss. Your lips moved in sync as your tongues fought for dominance, neither of you willing to give in, but when you tightened your hand around his cock and began to pump him at a fast, precise pace he relinquished control moaning loudly and you took the opportunity to win him over by sucking his tongue with a victorious hum.
It was you who moved to position him inside you. You were leaking, Stephen's cum running down your thighs mixed with your own fluids, but neither you nor Supreme cared about the mess at that point. All that mattered was the desire you both felt and as you sank into his cock he moaned loudly cupping your face and making you look into his eyes.
"I love you, Y/n. I love the life we ​​share." He whispered as a secret in your ear.
You grinned as you move up and down fucking him slowly but oh so good. "I love you too, Stephen. I love all my Stephens."
He smirked grabbing your waist and taking control back to himself, moving you on his cock at the pace he wanted, always fast, hard, rough even. The squelching sound of his cock fucking your pussy was so arousing, you were so wet, the sensation was different and so amazing and it wasn't just you who noticed that, because Supreme groaned completely lost in his pleasure and confessed. "Fuck, honey, pussy feels so nice wet like that. Cum is the best lube in the world."
You let out a small giggle letting yourself be manhandled by him and feeling like the coil in the pit of your stomach was about to snap again. He felt it too because your walls fluttered around his cock and he groaned loudly, both of his hands grabbing your ass cheeks and moving you up and down.
"Are you going to come for me now? One orgasm for each Stephen?" He teased and you just nodded, your arms wrapped around his neck to keep your balance as you rocked on his cock.
"Do it, honey. Do it now. I can't hold back any longer. Gonna cum too."
You forced yourself down rubbing your clit on his pelvic bone and let yourself be dominated by the wave of pleasure that washed over you.
Stephen came soon after, pushing ropes and ropes of cum inside you.
You two ended up panting, devouring each other's mouths and moaning.
After five loads of cum inside, you felt the fire and need for sex die down leaving you in a state of exhaustion you couldn't remember ever feeling before. Your body slumped over Stephen and your eyes closed almost immediately and you felt him holding you tighter, but everything around you was an incomprehensible blur.
...
Stephen returned to the bedroom after taking a shower and putting on a pair of pants. He had also prepared the bathtub with warm water and Y/n favorite bath salts, imagining that she would need them to relax after their activities.
"If you guys are done, I prepared a bath for her." Stephen said and Supreme nodded.
"Hear that, honey? A hot bath will help you feel better."
She just hummed and mumbled some incomprehensible words.
Defender got up and walked over to them. "I take care of her." He said taking Y/n from Supreme's lap and taking her to the bathroom.
Supreme quickly cleaned himself up and used magic to dress back in his robes and boots. "I'll take care of the mess Doctor, maybe we'd better take a look at that relic before Wong finds out she broke it."
Stephen nodded. "You're right. Did she say where she put it?"
"At the library. In a box."
Supreme used magic to dry the mattress she had soaked so beautifully and part of him was still fighting the jealousy that scene caused in him. He put clean sheets on the bed and finished organizing everything before leaving. After an afternoon like that, he was begging for a hot shower and some sleep.
Defender knew Y/n was exhausted, so he bathed her quickly and sat her up in bed and helped her get dressed in the silk pajamas Stephen had left on the bedside table. He used magic to dry her hair and helped her under the sheets.
"Is cold." She complained now that she was totally free from the influence of the pollen.
"Do you want a blanket, or do you want me to light the fireplace?"
But she didn't answer, falling asleep almost immediately.
He covered her with a blanket and placed a kiss on her forehead. "Love you baby." He whispered and left the room.
...
Stephen shouldn't have been surprised to find Wong in the library. It was the most common thing in the world, but due to all the events he couldn't help but curse internally.
"How is y/n feeling?" The Sorcerer Supreme asked walking down the hall carrying a box with pieces of what was once a relic.
"She is better now." That's all Stephen said.
Wong smiled to himself. "I will take this to Kamar Taj to repair the relic and its contents."
Stephen nodded. "That's precisely what I came to do now."
Wong seemed to think for a moment before speaking. "You know, there's an herbal infusion that can be brewed to ease the... symptoms, but it looks like the three of you managed to solve the problem quite well."
Stephen was blushing like a teenager. "Yes. Thank you, Wong."
Wong nodded opening a portal back to Kamar Taj. “Keep her away from my relics, Strange.” He demanded.
Stephen sighed watching the portal closing and shook his head still trying to believe in everything that had happened. The things Y/n did to Stephen, to all the Stephens... Yet he wouldn’t change a thing.
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yahoodarling · 6 months
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Diluc X GN Guardian Angel Reader (Snipbit)
Diluc X guardian reader whos a little late on the whole ‘helping out’ part. Expect some good ol angst from both parties, enthusiastic reader and Diluc in denial. Reader gives off ‘dad thats been absent for your developing years and shows up in your 20s’ vibe. 
Word count: 3k (full fic around 10k)
Warnings: none in this extract but warnings will be added in the final fic
You are holy. You are divine. You are perfection incarnate. You have a duty. 
In your hands held the fate of a mortal, someone desperate and in need of your guidance and as an official of Celestia it is both an honor to guide them and an honor bestowed, to be favored and seen by the gods for their struggles and in turn given the gift that is yourself. Admittedly you filled the application for this position a little late but surely your mortal is just fine as they are, you were just… a little preoccupied is all. You smile as you think of the future journey ahead, a new start of healing and recovery for a poor soul. Your… your new mortal…
Mondstadt, you haven't been here for a while but the smell of fresh brew in the air and tugging of the wind in your hair will always welcome you. You set off to find your dear human, your existence tied to his the moment you fulfilled the proper application of acceptance. He's in the city, a short distance away. The night was crisp, winter is around the corner but with your light you shall guide this mortal through and reach the warmth he so desperately needs. You open the door to a tavern, a further welcome of cheer and joy from its patrons and there standing in such joyous potential is your dear! Crimson hair bundled high, gaze focused and frown evident, such ache surely lies within him. 
“Greetings Diluc of Mondstadt! Its a pleasure to finally meet you!” you speed walk up to the counter and lay on your finest smile, first impressions are important if you'll be spending the rest of his life together. 
He didn't seem pleased with your manner, perhaps you were too much? Either way he sighed, “Right, and what would you like this evening?”
“You~☆”
His frown further lowered and brow crinkled, lines all too familiar with this exchange. 
“Order a drink or get out, i am not accepting courting attempts” 
“Courtship? Oh no no no! Haha you're mine in a different way! I'm here to give you a surprise alright?” You stood up straight, opened your arms out wide to him, beamed a smile as welcoming as possible and with as much joy and enthusiasm as possible declared,
“Diluc of Mondstadt I am your official Guardian Angel! Tremble no longer! Fret no fear for I as one of Celestians chosen have come to bring you peace in your times of need!” 
He looked at you with blank tired eyes, not the ones of enlightened hope you were expecting
“Right well i think this joke has played its course. I'll ask you either leave or buy something.”
Huh? That's not what you were expecting. Shouldn't he be enamored? Shouldn't he be fulfilled with hope and respond in such a manner befitting of a life changing event? What's different here? What have you done wrong? You've done what you usually do, introduce yourself, have a good first impression, positive attitude, state your position as an official of Celestia, your previous mortals were overjoyed when you first met but this one is different, he doesn't look happy or relieved he just looks… tired. 
Perhaps it's because the situation isn't right. In the past when you met your previous mortals it was in an immediate sense of danger whilst here he's just at his job but would something like that really affect his response? He still needs you after all, why isn't he overjoyed? 
“Haha, there is no humor here other than the joyful future we are to embark on! Umm- haha, ah, you aren't in awe or anything right? This is the start to a new life for you! No more suffering or pain, you have I, your benevolent guardian, to guide and support you! Haha- um, you don't look all that greatful haha, i'm not usually this uncomposed it's just you don't seem very grateful and, yeah…” he's really throwing you off here, its like you don't even exist with the way he looks at you. 
“Diluc! We need another round of 8 ales for the second floor!”
“Coming up Charles.”
He turned away and got on preparing the drinks. How awkward. You stand unmoving, simply blinking along and watching your mortal- Diluc, right, Master Diluc of Mondstadt, get glasses and fill them. Eventually your legs felt a little odd having to stand, you sit down on an available stool and continue to watch the men prepare drinks. 
Is this really the reception you get for being a little late? Nothing serious could have happened in the time so why is everything so different now compared to how it's meant to be. 
Your mortal finished his task and returned to his position, when his gaze laid on you he had to sigh but still approached.
“Will you order something now?”
“Oh no, i need not drink.” 
“Right then what are you doing here other than to play this prank of yours?”
“Prank? Oh I'm serious about my position, Diluc of Mondstadt i am serviced to guide you.”
“I don't need any ‘guiding’ but if you are indeed of any i can help guide you out the door if we are done here.”
You can't help but laugh, he's being rather silly, of course you don't need help walking out the door but maybe he's confused or doesn't believe that someone could be blessed an angelic guardian. 
“Diluc of Mondstadt-”
“‘Master Diluc’ is just fine, thank you.”
Oh? Weird, you could have sworn you read that he introduced himself as ‘Diluc of Mondstadt’, it's his title right? 
“Right! So Master Diluc, going forward i will be joining you in you daily-”
“No you will not.” oh how blunt! You cringe a little inside, being treated like this is so odd, your previous mortals were never like this. 
“ahaha- um yes i will, its my job. Worry not! I do not have to be physically present like i currently am, i just figured our first introduction would be best if i took a mortal form, you lot find great comfort in those you can identify yourself with and i will respect that! See!” you lift your arms out and display your form as if he hadn't taken a good look of it, you were rather proud of your visage, you always received praise from your fellow guardians when it comes to your human designs. “See, I put quite a bit of effort into this one! Haha but again, I can take on a spiritual form in the times you need to be ‘alone’. Not alone alone, you'll never be alone! But rather when you need other humans to perceive you are alone. I can do my duties both in and out of form! There is more to guidance than just protection after all! I am here as your new voice to lead you down your-”
“Okay that's enough.”
Please! Dear mortal, stop interrupting me! This is important! you shut your eyes and release an unseen tear, this hurts. 
Diluc of Mondstadts’ frustration seemed to grow, his appearance did not change, his eyes still narrow and frown rested easily on his cheeks like before but you could easily sense his annoyance. How. HURTFUL! 
“I'm done with your ‘guardian of celestia’ nonsense. Please leave my tavern before I have to escort you out, and I will so do not take this statement lightly.” 
“Oh you couldn't even if you tried haha, different phases of mass and all that. I know it may seem ‘annoying’ to you for whatever reason but I am here with you for the rest of your life. It may be different from what you are used to but i can swear on my pledge that i will do all i can to accoustum into your life in a way befitting of your personal needs all whilst helping you out your sadness!”
He sighed, pressed his fingers to his brow and took a moment to recompose. Once he was done his frown wasn't so harsh but he still looked tired. 
“Right well, I cannot deny you are a Celestial being. I've had all manner of entities in my tavern but none have gone so far as to claim they are supposedly my ‘guardian’. I do not know why you claim this, if you take a look into my life you will see I am well settled and content with my present so I am not indeed of your services. I thank you for your offer but please, take it to someone who may actually need it.”
“ha… haha silly, it's not an offer system, that's not how things work, haha. I am tied to you now. I can't just leave and you do need me! Your submission wouldn't be in the files if you didn't. Celestia knows when a mortal is deserving of their attention and you are! I'd say you are especially special considering you have a vision as well. Well done! Good job! You are already on the path of healing! Now with my help you'll reach a lovely new future.”
“Well I'm rather happy with what I currently have. Enough of this talk, you will confuse my customers.”
“oh? Oh you are worried about confidentiality? Not a worry! Our discussion is filtered, they cannot hear information they are not allowed to. They are likely hearing us chat on about the weather haha.”
“What?” his frown turned into confusion, how cute. 
“oh yes! Being your guardian means dealing with personal stuff for you, it wouldn't be right if someone could just listen in to our conversation. There is also the fact that I hold knowledge that should not be heard by mortal ears and luckily the filter works to block it all! No secret spilt or your personal feelings uncovered.”
He looked concerned for a moment before huffing out and directing his attention elsewhere. 
“Of course the gods work in ‘mysterious ways’”
“oh, I'm not a god, I'm an angel.”
“I'm not talking about you.”
“ah…”
He simply ignored you after that, tavern goers came and went and when he wasn't attending to them or greeting familiar faces he busied himself checking lists, stock and otherwise keeping things in order. You found your spot on the bar bench and hadn't moved since, only watched, you tried to start up another conversation but he had shut you down rather quickly so you were once again left in silence to sit. It had been a while since you surrounded yourself with mortals and the distinction was clear, they easily made merry and got on with life none the wiser of the world yet still all too eager to enjoy their lives, it was refreshing. Their simple lives were so cute, it was moments like this that made you fall in love with your job all over again, only pity is your current mortal doesn't seem as pleased. Humans are both simple and complex and your dear mortal was complexing to the core. You felt the hurt in him and yet he did not want help, you stated you were of Celestia and he refused you, why? Perhaps you'll need to try out some different methods to get close. 
The early night turned late and Diluc finished his tasks leaving the few stragglers for Charles to close up after. He took his coat and disappeared out the back door. It took a moment for you to register he had left, so engrossed in your own thoughts and your surroundings you had actually stopped monitoring your mortal, not that you'd admit to doing that of course. Quickly you got out of your seat and ran after him, a few moments later you were at his side as he trudged on Mondstadts roads. 
“soooo~ Mondstadt huh? Pretty place.”
He said nothing
“Last time I was here was ages ago, the winds really have flattened out the hills, it's nice!”
...
“I'm still not so happy about the smell in the air, you'd think that would have cleared out by now.”
“What?” he finally looked at you and it was in total confusion. “What are you going on about?”
“oh haha! I was just thinking aloud, I actually can't say. Hmmm… how could i word this… you've killed people right?”
All you saw was his back as he sped walked forward, eyes ever on his depressed past and not on you, his future. 
“Diluc of Mondstadt halt! I did not mean to be offensive, I just wanted to link a connection you would recognise. That smell of death lingers in- it-” haha filters… you need to recompose yourself. “Haha nevermind! Topics of the past are not fun. How about we talk about you? You work at a bar? Oh no i believe i read you owned a winery, very impressive. But it being your fathers is no achievement of your own, we shall create your very own success in our journeys to come!”
“What?” his speed walking stopped, he held his stance firm, much like the form you need to take in the scene of battle, no sign of weakness displayed even in a simple action such as standing. Too bad for him you knew he was just playing, there is no way he could actually hold himself so well when he's so in need. And yet it didn't feel that way and he looked genuinely angry for some reason, you've only been encouraging.
“What right do you have to claim The Dawn Winery is not an achievement of my own?”
“Well simply you're not the one who developed it but that's okay! We have other chances, we can-”
“Not ‘we’, ‘I’ and it has always been ‘I’. I am the one that has gotten myself up to this point and have no need for a ‘we’. I do not need your confirmation nor your support which consists of empty notions and insensitive remarks. Leave before I force you to.” He took out his blade. He actually took out his blade on you, proof he'd follow through with his words. 
What have you done wrong? Why is he so confusing? The others weren't this confusing. They were just sad and depressed and you comforted them but this one is just angry, your comfort feeding the flames but he wouldn't have had an application made for him if he wasn't in despair. Just what is this mortal's problem? 
“Diluc of-”
“Do not even speak my name if you cannot say it correctly. I understand you may be an inhuman being but that does not exempt you from working by human standards when speaking with one. And typically human standards will not have one creating a false narrative of some guardian angel you are trying to play. Again, leave me be. That is your final warning.”
“But- but I am! It is not a false image, I am an official of Celestia, i am here to help.”
He lowered his blade but still his eyes remained sharp. His claymore could never harm you anyway yet the sting of his look was felt. 
“Then tell me, if you truly are sent from Celestia why is it that you come now once my life is content? Why now when your ramblings prove nothing but eer and not in the time when I truly could have needed Celestia's help?”
It hasn't been that long though…
“I cannot answer that. See-”
“If you cannot answer, it means I cannot accept. To say Celestia sent help yet failed means to lose all respect for the gods. It is easier for me to say the gods work in unknown ways, that I faced my hardships without their guidance for a reason then to be told they failed, that I could have had an easier past if not for the incompetence of others whom are meant to be superior to us mortals. It is for that reason that I hold some semblance of respect for them that I cannot accept you as an agent of theirs.”
How? But that's not- what? His words held no meaning, no meaning you could understand anyway, they were only a collection of words that could not fit together. You could not understand them, you could not comprehend them. Is this how mortals feel trying to comprehend the higher plane? But his words are not a superior entity to you, you are superior, you should understand! But his words… What could he mean? Of course he respects Celestia but how does that differ to accepting you are one of theirs? It's not like Celestia could do anything wrong to garner disrespect. Right? No, it's unquestionable. Its- its-
You feel the strange tingle, you should move on from this subject. Right! Yes, move onto a new subject and respect the mortal, feed into their understanding if it means they can progress.
“haha i see i see. Well you do not have to see me as an official of celestia then! You can see me as a helpful spirit that has decided to join you in your adventure!”
“i refuse”
DAMN HUMAN LISTEN
“ahaha ha… um how about as-”
“The only thing I see you as is a malignant being whom pesters me for their own satisfaction.”
Ouch… but you could work with this!
“I see! Yes yes, your dismay gives me joy so in order for me to not ‘pester’ you you must not fall into dismay but rather develop and progress a more healthy future, yes okay! Human! I shall follow you and ‘pester’ you from this point onwards!”
He did a physical rolling of the eyes, rolling his body along as well as he turns himself away from you and continues walking. 
“If you do so quietly I might reconsider impaling you on my blade.”
Its progress! Okay, you need to listen to him.
“right right, i shall only speak when absolutely needed oh or to say something to agitate you considering i am a malevolent being. In all honesty though, I find it hard to say disparaging things. I usually work as a supportive and helpful being but I will try to be vexatious.” You hear a faint ‘you don't even have to’ come from him, silly human, you can still hear him even at this distance.
A little bit more of a filler introduction to the fic im working on! If the dialogue feels awkward, good, its meant to be. As always angst shall follow but i find the dynamic rather fun. Let me know your thoughts and opinions of what youd like to see in the future!
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anjelicawrites · 17 days
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Now I’m thinking about Maid!Aegon having a clamp on his nipples and a toy shoved up his ass while he has to clean things. He’s in tears because the toy vibrating against that spot inside of him and he’s not supposed to cum, but he can’t help it! He can’t walk right and he keeps cumming, getting his pretty outfit all messy. He’s so sensitive, and his sore nipples keep rubbing against the fabric. His cock hurts so much and he’s begging for it to stop, but he knows that the toy won’t be turned off until he’s done cleaning. He cries as he keeps going, and he’s almost done when it vibrates faster. His legs give out and he’s shaking on the floor, cumming his brains out and bawling, unable to think straight. All in all, a very good day for him, as all he does is cum until he passes out.
-🪴
🪴 nonnie, he's set to fail, because he leaks everywhere he goes and has to go back and clean the trail of his own come. There is no way he'll complete this task in time!
Poor little thing that he is. He tries so hard to keep his mind on the work ahead: the apartment needs to be spotless by the time you're home, and he knows you're watching. But his nipples are so raw already against the soft cotton of his outfit, every single movement sends sparks of pleasurable pain down to his hard cock, and the plug! Oh Gods above the plug!
He has to stop, his legs tremble and shake too hard to carry his weight, the vibration against his poor prostate encompasses everything: his mind, you, the task ahead. He's pleasure and desperation as his raw cock leaks white fluids on the, once, spotless floor. He falls on his knees, his erection bouncing against his tummy and the sticky front of his pretty dress. He grinds his teeth against the new spiral of pleasure starting deep in his belly, his hips fucking the air until he comes again.
He begs and cries for respite, his voice a high pitched whine he knows will go unanswered, his nails hurt when he closes his fist around the leg of the table to gain control against his traitorous body.
Shacking his other hand cups his cock, the pleasure makes his fall face first on the floor, before he can crawl and clean the mess he's left on his wake.
He comes again, halfway through, this time managing to salvage the work he's done and there's still so much to do!
He keeps crying and begging as he, slowly, cleans every surface, his cock keeps sprouting and he has to go back again, his nipples aching when he makes a movement he shouldn't.
He's on all fours on the floor now, his hands curled into fists, his mouth slant open to scream your name like it is his salvation. He's almost done, there's so little left and then you'll stop torturing him, you'll come home and you'll cradle him in your arms; he hasn't considered you didn't promise to play fair.
The hiking in the vibrations cut his breathing and take all the strength away from his legs: he can't think, he can't scream, he's just a bundle of tortured nerves writhing on the floor. He keeps coming, again and again, he barely manages to turn on his back, his hips too tired even to fuck the air, as his body goes in overdrive and his mind shuts down, too much pleasure for him to handle.
You find him on the floor in a puddle of his own come. You've turned off the plug the second he passed out and ran home to check on your sweet boy.
He's almost feverish in your arms, legs slack open, cock still painfully hard.
You coax him back to reality with soft words and caresses, you wait until his purple eyes can focus on yours, only then you remove the plug and clamps, revering in the small, pained sounds he makes. He's so defenseless and pathetic you can't help but wanting to torture him even more.
"You almost managed, sweetheart."
He looks at you with eyes so watery and full of trust, that what you have planned for him tastes sweet in your mouth already.
"I am sure you'll reach your goal, tomorrow."
The scared whine he makes only fuels your desire to drive him into madness.
"Shh, shh. I promise I will play fair, no hiking of the plug. Besides, it's gonna be at full speed from the start." You say with a wicked smile.
You let the knowledge sink in and hold him tighter when he starts crying against your chest. He's so pathetic he drives you to need to torture him within an inch of his life.
"Now." Your hand sneaks under his ruined dress to curl around his still erect cock and he whines, panicked. "Let me help with this and then we'll call it a night. You need all your strength for the work you have to do tomorrow."
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azrielgreen · 9 months
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Prism CH14 Preview
‘Do you mean it?’
‘Mean what?’
‘Us being friends?’
Eddie nods slowly, reaches up to stroke Steve’s hair back where it falls into his eyes. ‘Yeah, I do. Can’t imagine not being in your life, Steve. Not anymore.’
‘But we could…’ Steve thinks of Amy, of the group, of Robin. ‘I mean, y’know. We’ve already… done stuff.’
Eddie nuzzles Steve very lightly. 
‘I just wanna be in your everyday world, and I think maybe neither of us is ready for it to be a different way. I want to be your friend, Steve. It’s not settling, it’s not second best, not a rejection. I wanna know you, I want to be with you and be silly, be dumb together. I love it. Never had it before.’
‘Never? What about Jonathan?’
‘Nobody’s like you, Steve. No one. And I’ve never had anything like this. But look,’ Eddie adds, frowning to himself. ‘I know I can be a lot, so if it’s too much, you just tell me, yeah? I promise it’ll be fine. Never want to upset you or make you feel uncomfortable.’
‘No, I.’ Steve swallows when his throat goes dry. ‘I like it. Feels like we’ve kinda known each other forever, been friends forever, does that… make sense?’
Eddie exhales slowly, soft music in the back of his throat, it rumbles from his chest. ‘Makes sense.’
‘Then yeah, we can be, um, friends.’
‘Good.’
‘You can’t be my best friend, though. That role’s taken.’
‘How about I be your worst friend?’ 
Steve giggles, feels himself moving closer with each little judder in his chest, helplessly drawn there. ‘Was the Marathon bar your audition?’
‘Definitely.’
‘And is this the kind of worst friend stuff I can look forward to?’
‘That and much worse.’ Eddie leans in and bites Steve’s chin for just one second and then lets go, eyes wide and innocent. ‘So?’
‘Fine. Worst friends.’
Eddie Munson settles into the pillow. ‘Worst friends. I’ll go soon, don’t worry.’
Steve’s getting tired. ‘You could just… stay for five more minutes if you liked.’
‘Yeah?’
‘Won’t hurt.’
‘You sure?’
‘Unless you’re gonna chew me up like a candy wrapper.’
‘Never, I’d swallow you whole.’
Steve groans and turns his face into the pillow, blissful mixture of worn out, outrageously happy, sleepy and turned on. ‘Stop, oh my god.’
When he comes out, Eddie’s t-shirt sleeve is rucked up a little and the dim light catches on something Steve hasn’t seen until now. 
The scar. 
He looks at it, sobering slowly. 
Eddie must notice, he must know what he’s looking at. It’s healed well, but it’s bigger than Steve remembers, maybe he just hoped it’d be a neat little line like his own is now. Eddie stitched it so well, but his own is thicker, instantly visible. 
Steve lifts one hand and it hovers above, unsure. 
‘Touch it,’ Eddie says, whisper soft, voice rough. 
It’s thick and the texture is strange, different from Steve’s own. ‘Did you go to the hospital?’
‘No, it didn’t need it.’
‘Who stitched you up?’
‘I did.’
Steve looks at him. ‘But you’re… you’re right handed. How could you?’
‘I’m ambidextrous.’
‘No, you’re not.’
Eddie cracks a tiny grin. ‘No, I’m not, but I am bisexual, does that count?’
‘Shut up and no, but like, Eddie… how could you stitch this yourself?’
He shrugs. ‘I’ve done it before.’
‘It’s not like mine. It’s all… rough.’ Steve’s eyes are wet, they sting from behind and his jaw aches. ‘I’m so sorry.’
‘No, I like it,’ Eddie tells him. ‘I like when we…’
Steve is touching the scar, following the river of risen flesh up and down, up and down in an endless caress as if that will somehow help it to heal better, when he looks at Eddie again, heart so heavy, swollen and sodden, and asks, ‘When we what?’
He can hear Eddie swallow. 
‘Match.’
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finniestoncrane · 1 month
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deeply personal and pointless whinge here but i need to get it out before therapy so i can verbalise my thoughts properly
very tired today, very sick of being autistic? i'm not officially diagnosed but i'm as fucking good as, and while it is nice to know there's a "reason" for why i am the way that i am, it doesn't change that i'm hindered in every way
it's fine to tell myself "ok just? focus on being normal and good and pick yourself up" but it's very hard
i'm so fed up of the ruminations, the rejection sensitivity, the socialising panic, the exhaustion, the body aches, the lack of will to do anything because it's so tiring and difficult
i'm done with reading into everything too far, i'm tire of struggling through everything, i'm so bored of being talked down to or feeling like i'm an idiot or feeling like i'm a child
i'm 31 next week and i don't feel like an adult. everyone else seems to have it down but i don't? everyone at work talks down to me and i wonder if they'd do that if i hadn't told them i was autistic? or would they just sense it in me? i'm not bad at my job, but i need guidance and structure and better environments, but i can't advocate for myself because i find it so difficult
and the comorbidities or whatever? now my therapist doesn't know if i actually have anxiety or whether it's undiagnosed adhd. i can't tell if i'm depressed or if it's autistic burnout. i just know i'm a little bit wonky
just very bored of being a subpar human being because i can't make my own brain do what i want it to do when everyone else seems to be able to (which i know is not the case but it just feels like that sometimes y'know?)
i'm also getting real fed up of my brain finding unfair things to focus on. i'm so uncomfortable at work but my coworker gets to only be in the office one day a week while i have to be in twice? and this same coworker keeps treating me like an idiot but she's provided me with no training. and she also is very hot and cold with me, which i find so so so so difficult. i just feel like a complete failure today and it's really difficult to pick things back up after the morning i've had
i just want to be comfortable. i'm so proud of myself as an autistic adult that i have managed to find a job and keep it and do acceptably in it, but it's hard. i'm proud that i push myself to be sociable even when i don't feel like it because i know people deserve the best me i can be. but my fucking GOD i am at my limits ;-;
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