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#i want to get the pain checked out but i have Very Little Hope of it getting better
uncanny-tranny · 9 months
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This is an EVIL part of the body btw:
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peachesofteal · 6 months
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you satisfy the urge to see Ghost with little babies and simultaneously make me want more of him with little babies
Light on - single mom/neighbor fic Simon Riley/female reader
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He sleeps like the dead on and off for the almost three days.
Uninterrupted, undisturbed, face buried in a pillow, television cranked as loud as he can get away with, the noise one of the only things capable of lulling him to sleep and keeping him under when he’s not on an op or in an active engagement zone. He gets up to eat, use the bathroom or shower, climb the four floors to the roof to smoke, but otherwise, he sleeps. He eats, and sleeps, and repeats this very simple routine, as he always does when he’s here, until it’s interrupted one night, by the tap of a hesitant knock on his door.
The sound freezes his blood, every nerve ending in his body lighting up in alert, muscles priming for an offensive position. He finds the one of many guns stashed in the flat on his way to open the door, mask slipping over his face, holding the weapon tucked carefully behind his body as he looks through the peephole to find… you. The girl from the roof, the baby, Emmaline, in your arms, your eyes nervously darting down the hallway before looking back to his door expectantly. Shit.
“I’m sorry.” You rush out immediately when he opens it, peering up at him with exhausted eyes. Emma is against your chest, and one of your hands cradles her head, the other under her bum, while you bounce her up and down while also rocking back and forth. “I don’t mean to be a pain in the arse but, is there any way I can ask you to turn your TV volume down a bit?” You try to smile but it straightens into a grimace and then your eyes dart to the ground before looking back up at him. “We uh, share a wall.” You tilt your head to the left, to the unit next to his and his eyes widen. “I’m so sorry. I don’t mean to bother you, I’m not trying to be that neighbor but-“ Jesus Christ. You share a wall with him? His mind drifts to an image of you asleep in your bed, tucked up under your covers all sweet, lashes laying delicately on your cheeks.
“Of course. It’s not a bother.” The baby cries in response, a broken wail making her lower lip tremble and you pat her back soothingly until she quiets, little hiccups coming from her mouth while she rubs her face into your shirt.
“Thank you.” You’re still bouncing, still swaying, and he’s mystified, watching you stroke a gentle finger through her fine curls. She yawns sleepily against you, and the tension leaks from your body a bit, spine slumping slightly, shoulders relaxing a notch. You look down at her, checking for something he doesn’t understand, before raising your radiant, tired face back up to his. He really, really wishes he wasn’t holding a handgun behind his back right now. “They told me, when I rented… that you weren’t around much. I thought it’d be a good fit since…” you gesture with an eyebrow towards Emmaline, and he nods.
“I travel for work.” His voice sounds more raspy than normal, a byproduct of too much sleep, something you look like you’d probably kill to have. Fuck. He’s been blasting his television while you’ve been up with a screaming baby for two bleedin’ days.
“Right, well I hope we won’t be too noisy for you, when you are home.” A door slams on third floor above the two of you, the bang of it swinging shut too loud and you tense, something bleak flickering across your face before it’s chased away with a half-forced smile. “Anyway… thanks, again.”
“Of course.” He repeats it, like it’s obvious, and then just as you turn away, he remembers something: “I’m Simon.” You glance back at him, timid smile tugging at your lips, your own name falling from your mouth like you’re giving him a gift.
“Oh, and you know Emmaline already.” You lightly tease, and he nods, his own lips lifting in an almost smile behind the mask in response.
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bluetimeombre · 2 months
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✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ And I wouldn't marry me, either.
You were Azriel's mate, but it took losing you three times for him to realise.
[this is long. i'm talking 5k words long so i've split it into two parts. anyway, azriel is the best bat boy and no i won't hear anyone out. i'm so excited to write for him and hope you enjoy. it's very angsty but that's what i love. i hope i can write more for him and maybe other characters if you like. it's been a while since i've actually read the series so if any information is wrong, do let me know. also it was my first time using the term y/n and yes, i cringed NOT PROOF READ... enjoy]
warnings: references to sexual assault and references to suicide. nothing explicit but please don't read if this is sensitive to you.
Part 2 soon…
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✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
The first, was the worst...
You were Rhys's half sister, the bastard daughter of his father. But when your mother had died giving birth to you, Rhysand's mother took you in and raised you with your brother and sister. You were so little and adorable that your sister loved you at once. Rhys did to, at some point of your life, you were sure he actually cared about you.
But when his mother and sister had died, his eyes shifted, he started to look at you with contempt. After all, you were only his half-sister. The worst half. He only kept you around because it's what his mother would have wanted.
And because there was no way Cassian and Azriel would ever let anything happen to you.
Besides, Rhysand knew when to use you.
Although Azriel was his spymaster, you were pretty good at staying swift-footed too. And you were frankly, very terrifying when you wanted to be.
You tread with power through the war camps, all of them looking at you as you went. All of their gazes wrecked with a predatory gaze. They either wanted to have their way with you, or kill you. Or both.
Rhys had said you could handle it, it was only supposed to be a check in. Cassian hadn't liked it, neither had Mor but it was Azriel who had almost- and for the first time- disobeyed his high lord to accompany you. But no, your brother wanted you to do this alone, so alone you would.
Just to show him you could.
'I can come with you,' Azriel had said, standing in your room as you tied your boots up. 'I won't even have to be seen.' At that, his shadows wrapped up your calf.
You smiled at them, as if they were his own pet. 'I'll manage just fine. Besides, i'm sure that's what Rhys wants, me needing a man.'
It had done nothing to calm your friend. The worry was still stuck between his brows, marring his handsome features. You'd held his cheeks, your wings hiding the two of you. His large ones (enough to swallow the both of you) over-lapped yours.
It was the last time you'd feel your wings.
The war camp wasn't as easy as you'd hoped. It was terror and horror in a place. You'd been to the court of nightmares, you'd gone to the slaughter of the spring court after they killed your family. But this, this was hell of another kind.
You had no idea how many days you'd been locked up, wrists bound in chains and hanging from the cell roof above you. Blood rolled down your arms from the force you'd tried to use to get them out. Your eye was swollen shut and your body trembled in pain.
All because they wanted to know your brothers secrets, and you wouldn't budge.
Your check was only supposed to be a day, but you were sure it had been longer. Days of endless pain and torture. Your uniform hung in rags of stripped material, your hair matted with blood and hiding your face.
You'd used the last of your energy to keep your walls up. You weren't anyone's mate, you didn't have anyone on the other end trying to feel what you felt. But should Rhys come looking (though you doubted it) you didn't want him to feel it. You didn't want anyone in your mind.
The gates opened with a sickening clash.
One of the Illyrian's knelt in front of you, his wings hiding those coming in behind you. 'Listen sweetheart. I don't want to make this any harder than it's about to get. All you have to do is tell us your brother's hide outs.'
You grit your teeth, staring down at the ground.
'So loyal, to a man who doesn't care if you live or die.'
Suddenly, your wings twitched as hands grasped them. Brute hands, the sort you wouldn't want touching any part of you.
Fear spiked in you, horror twisting your gut. 'What are you doing?'
'I told you I didn't want to get things messier, darling.'
You whipped your head from side to side, trying and failing to get a look at the assailants behind you. Your wings were being held apart, no matter how hard you tried to bat them away. You knew the sort of people they were, and what they did to girls like you.
That's when the begging started. 'No, no please. Anything. I'll do anything! Beat me, kill me, rape me, not my wings, please!'
'Anything?' the bastard asked, tongue poking out from his lips. 'Then tell me where your lord's hideouts are?'
You should betray him, you thought. He would never lose his wings for you. Perhaps it was stubbornness that kept you from, or maybe you were clinging to the last bit of love you want from him.
The bastard scoffed, 'anything, she says. Your brother has his own bitch wrapped around his finger.'
That's when they started hacking at your wings.
Your screams tore through your throat, blood spitting and dripping down your chin. Tears soon joined when they hacked away at the bone, the membrane, the flesh of it all. The three of them worked through your screams and your tears and your pain, tearing and cutting at it like it was nothing more than paper.
Not your whole life.
Let them hear you. You hoped your brother heard you, you hoped all and every court heard the pain.
Eventually, even you couldn't keep screaming. The only sound was the hacking away at your wings and the drops of blood.
'Now look at these beauties. I've got a perfect spot on my wall for these.'
They left you after that. There wasn't much more damage they could do. It already felt like they'd destroyed your life. You had never really thought about your wings, they were just part of you, as much as your wit or hair was. But they'd took it and now, you felt empty. Never would you fly with Azriel again, or use your wings to smack Cassian over the head.
Rhys, your dear brother, had took that from you.
The days blended in together after that. You were pooled in your own tears and blood, vomiting up anything they forced down your throat. No, they'd made it very clear they didn't want you dead. They just took pride in making it feel like you were.
At some point, you'd stopped reacting to the gate opening. You let them do whatever they wanted with you. Your wrists were still chained, arms still hanging up, your clothes hanging on your thin body in strips of dirt.
'No...' you heard a mumble. 'What have they done to you?'
Suddenly, the chains gave way and you lurched forward, with no strength to catch you. Luckily, you didn't have to, as strong and warm arms pulled you into his chest.
'Hey, wake up, look at me, dammit.'
Azriel.
You'd know the voice in the darkest days, in the pit of your worst nightmare you'd know.
You try to speak but your head's heavy, your lips are stone and your arms can't lift to hold onto him. You're exhausted, you're dying. The only thing you could do use all your strength to try to open your eyes.
'Please, please, look at me. You have to look at me,'
You were trying, you wanted to tell hm, snap at him, but you couldn't.
You felt Azriel shake, or maybe you were. Then, there was wet drops landing on your cheeks- you flinched.
'I'm sorry, i'm sorry. Rhys! Rhys! hurry up, please!' he was screaming. You'd never heard him scream before.
You heard the rush of feet at the cell doors, you knew it was your brother. You knew it from the presence of him, from the shuffling of feet and chocked sob. Your brother didn't cry, least of all for you.
'Her wings, oh mother, her wings,' said Azriel, his voice barley above that of a whisper.
Your wings. You didn't need reminding. They were gone, long and far gone. You were without a part of you, the very part of your soul that loved to be free. Never would you watch the stars up close or fly over everyone. Never race Cassian or make jokes with Az.
No, this would destroy you.
'y/n,' your half-brother called. 'No, y/n. Can you hear me?'
Your lips parted, mumbling. 'Hurts.'
Azriel's grip on you tightened. 'I know, we're gonna get you out of here, just hold on for me.'
You wanted to tell him you would hold on, you'd always need to hold on to him. That, no matter what he asks, you'd do it. To kill, to live, to breathe, to die.
And that's when it clicked. Amongst all the pain and the doubt. In your blood soaked clothes. In the fear you wouldn't make it, there was a tug. Weak and one-sided, but there. You knew you'd be safe with Azriel, knew you would always be with him.
Mate.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
The pain subsided to a dull ache, there and beating but not excruciating. You were warm and covered in a soft material. Nothing like the cell you'd been kept in. Your fingertips sunk into something soft- a bed. Your bed. It was familiar in its lavender scent to you and the silk wrapped around you gave you some semblance of warmth.
Your wings.
Even coming to consciousness was difficult. You were exhausted but light, without the weight of wings holding you down. You'd never realised how much you needed to feel that weight, to feel pulled down in order to be free.
Gone, all gone.
Your hand twitches around something cold, a shadow holding your hand, creeping up your side.
'You're awake, thank the couldron.'
It wasn't Azriel, master of the shadows. It wasn't your mate. Mate. The word replayed like a terrible song in your mind.
How dare the mother do this to Az. How dare he- nothing but loyal and kind- get stuck with a person made in darkness, who bled shadows, who's heart was so full of hate there wasn't room for love. They'd cursed Az, with you.
But luckily it wasn't him, it was Rhysand.
'It really happened,' you whispered, voice hurting from the screams.
He sighed. 'I'm sorry, i'm so sorry. We-we thought you weren't going to make it, you'd lost so much blood.'
In spite of the pain in your shoulders, you made a shift, turning from him as he ranted on about your condition.
'y/n... sister, please,' he said. He'd never called you sister before. He'd always been content to treat you just like you worked for him.
'Leave me alone.' you couldn't bare to look at him, couldn't bare to face him. The shadows at your hand grew heavier, as if more were piling on. You stretched your fingers away from them, trying to get them off you.
'Are you in any pain?' asked Rhys.
'Get out,' you mumbled.
The end of your bed dipped where Rhys settled, hand splayed on the covers, begging for your hand. 'y/n.'
'Get out!' you snapped, body tense and straining. You felt your wounds open up, blood wetting the bandage around you. But you didn't care. You'd happily bleed if you couldn't fly. A part of you, sick part of you wanted to be left there. It would be better than false sympathy.
Be better than your mate being disgusted.
'Get out!' you yelled again, voice tearing through an aching throat.
'I just want to help you! please, let me help you!' said Rhys, standing from your bed and walking around, trying to face you.
'I don't want your help!' you screamed. You reached for the closest thing you could, a jug of water and chucked it toward him. You aim was terrible, marred with pain and exhaustion. 'Get out!'
Though hesitant, Rhysand slowly started walking back to your door. He did it all looking at you, his hands out to show he wasn't gonna hurt you, but you didn't care. You went for the glasses next and chucked them but they landed against the door which he disappeared through.
Before it slid close you caught sight of Cassian , Mor and Azriel. All crowded, all waiting to see you.
You'd be happy if you never let them see you again.
'Can we see her?' you hear Mor ask.
'Give her time,' said Rhys.
The shadows at your hand grew heavier, darker, tighter.
'Go away!' you yelled at them. To anyone else, you probably looked crazy, screaming to darkness. But the shadows understood. They departed, slithering away and under the crack of your door where you could see the shadows of feet.
Tumbling from bed, you stumbled over and locked the door, leaning on it to and catching your breath. Your nightgown was starting to get sticky with blood all over again. When you closed your eyes, you pictured the cell, the rough hands holding you down, the chain keeping you up.
And the pain, it all washed over you. The hacking at your back, the sting of a slap. It hit you like a tone of bricks as you slid to the floor.
There was a knock, rattling the door.
'y/n,' Cassian. 'Please let us in.'
Us. You felt him on the other side. Your mate, his presence lingering. His shadows under the door, wanting to come in but keeping their distance.
He didn't know. It hadn't snapped for him, you could tell. It was one tug on your end, a chord in your heart. At least he couldn't feel what you did. At least you could shoulder it alone.
'Please.' his voice was almost your un-doing. He sounded so sad, so desperate. It hurt you just to think you were hurting him.
Tears streamed down your face as your curled your fingers into a tight fist. You assumed Mor had left with Rhys, leaving you there with the males.
Cass was always like a brother to you. Granted- a brother you had slept with once or twice- but he was your best friend. You'd always been close to him. But you'd always been good, a happy person.
You couldn't be that for them now, perhaps ever again.
It lasted like that for hours. Cassian and Az begging to come in, you curling into a ball with tears down your cheeks and blood down your back.
Eventually, they gave up. You couldn't hear them anymore and the shadows of their boots had disappeared.
Except Azriel's shadows that still lingered under your door. Maybe he'd ordered them to be there while they left you.
Eventually, you managed to find your footing on shaking legs. Your room was large, one of the largest. It was just as much a mess as it was when you'd left for you mission, clothes thrown over the place, books propped open on the pages you'd left them on. Everything was the same but could never be again.
It took you longer than you'd care to admit to get to your windows and throw the curtains close. Candles light at your request, the house looking after you as it had since you were a child.
You caught sight of yourself in the full length mirror. It seemed smaller, everything in the room felt too large and you too small, as if you were being swallowed by the expanse of it.
Your frame was small in the mirror, your hair disarrayed. Your eyes were red and shutting of their own accord from the tears that had drained you. The starving in the cells had made you look weak, made you feel weak.
And your back. There was no more looming black figures there, no more fluttering. There was just nothing. In spite of the ache as you lifted your arm, you felt around your back, feeling the hitch there, the lump from where they'd been torn from you.
You cry. You sob. You scream.
The scars were long and the nightdress was sticking to you by the blood you'd shed. All you could do, was hold yourself up as your body wracked with tears.
A breeze came from your windows, shadows tugging at the curtains.
You felt him before you saw him. You wanted to tell him to leave you but you couldn't talk without chocking. Without feeling like you couldn't breath.
Azriel had you in your arms before your knees could hit the ground. He fell with you, softening your body on the floor. His arms held you into his chest, his legs caging you into his body. His head rested on yours as he held you. He didn't try to talk, he didn't try to help. It was just him, you and his shadows.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
Azriel remembered dozing off with you, his head on yours. His arms holding you into him, as if it was up to him to keep the sadness away and take it for you.
Afterall, you were his best friend. He should have been there for you, and he'd failed terribly by letting you get hurt and your wings stolen from you. He could hate himself every day for it, for letting you down. But it would never amount to what you felt for yourself and that killed him.
He could see it in the way you cried, in the way you were already keeping everyone out. He'd rather die than let you go through all the pain alone.
When his hands had been scarred by his brothers, you'd help heal him, tell him about everything he still was and all the power he still held in his hands. In the worst days, when he didn't let anyone touch him, he let you.
It was always you.
Azriel wasn't sure how long he'd been asleep, or how deep. He was sure he was still with you, still in your bed.
His shadows crept up on him, engulfing him slowly and whispering to him. Your name, just your name on repeat. It was enough to lull him back into sleep, to keep him calm.
Gone. Missing. y'n. Roof.
He shot up and ran fastest than he ever had in his life. It was as if he'd never been asleep but had been fighting a battle with the way he raced over.
He burst through the doors, the cold hight air hitting him.
You stood facing the stars, your bloody back to him. It wasn't as much blood as when he'd found you, but it was still enough to put a lump in his throat.
Immediately his shadows fell to you, cascading down your body and wrapping around your waist. There was a breeze in the air, pushing your hair back and exposing more signs of the pain and torture you must have gone through.
'I'm not gonna jump, if that's what you're thinking,' you said. You didn't even have to turn to him. The shadows probably told you enough.
'Why are you up here?' he asked, walking to you slowly and with careful steps. As if every step closer could you push you away from him.
'I'll never feel the win properly again,' you answered.
Azriel gulped down his own pain. You’d never sounded so small. ‘Can you get away from the ledge?’
'I'm not on the ledge.'
'You're too close for my liking.'
'Leave if you don't like it.'
'Don't do this,' he said.
'Do what?' you asked, folding your arms over your chest. You were cold, out in the hight but you wanted to see the stars. Needed to see them.
'Make me leave. Make everyone leave you. I know that's what you're doing. It's what you do every time,' you could feel him dawning closer. His shadows were all around you, almost drowning you.
‘Every time,’ you scoff, stepping down and turning on him. ‘It’s not every day you lose your wings Azriel! But don’t let me stop you from leaving, flap them and go!’ You yelled, unable to stop yourself, no matter how hard you tried. You didn’t want to hurt him, you just wanted to be alone.
Mate. Mate. Mate.
'You jump and I’ll catch you,' he said. He was a step away, he could just reach out and touch, just a gentle caress. 'I swear it, whatever you do, I’ll follow. I’m not letting you get away.’
He watched your back shudder as he reached out, brushing knuckles against your shoulder blade. He heard your sharp inhale follow.
'Don’t think I won’t follow, y/n.'
Finally, you turned around in his shadows. You couldn’t meet his eyes but at least you could face his chest.
His hands were gentle on your shoulder as he rubbed it gently. 'Can I get Madja to clean you up?' He asked.
You nodded as he led you away. You truly did not deserve your mate.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
Fifty-two years later...
When Amarantha had trapped the high lords of Prythian under the mountain, it hadn't be a conscious choice to follow your half-brother down. How Amarantha had allowed it, you weren't sure, but perhaps she wanted to use you just like her brother, or she thought it would bring more pain for him to see you suffer under there too.
You and Rhysand had barley spoke the last two years.
It had took you almost two months to heal fully enough to leave your room, another few months to face your family again. But even then, everyone knew something had changed in you. You didn't laugh as loud or smile as wide.
Rhysand was careful to ever let you out on a mission. Mor tried to take you out every night. Cassian spent all day every day with you and Azriel- he'd healed you better than any nurse.
Still, you had not told him he was your mate.
Still, you thought he wouldn't want it.
Still, you cared for your brother enough to not want him to go alone.
But being under the mountain, you could avoid your mate. At a painful price.
Until her. Rhys's mate. He hadn't shut up about her since he first met her, much to your dismay as you had to sit around and listen- having absolutely nothing better to do. And it only got worse when she turned up under the mountain. She was declaring her love for Tamlin- again, annoying your brother, and throwing Lucien into danger- which rather angered you. You had nothing against the ginger.
Rhysand had once sent you to find the girl to summon her as part of a bargain he'd made. He didn't want to go, he didn't want to look too forceful. You'd been lucky enough to find the two tangled up in each other against a cold wall, clothes ripped and hips moving together.
'Well, well well,' you'd intterupted.
Tamlin all but growled at you, but feyre was looking over you- evidently confused. She had no idea who you were. You, in your skimpy outfit that Amarantha kept you in (they all dipped low at your back, showing off your scars) and your eyes that were like a night sky.
'Amarantha's looking for her pet and Rhysand is looking for his. Honestly, i'd be a bit more worried if I were you. You know, considering Lucien still has an eye to lose.'
The two parted with your words as you sent Tamlin back to his master, the high lord glaring at you as you went. While Feyre tried to fix herself.
'Rhysand is over there, better not keep him waiting.' That was the first time you met her, having no idea how much trouble she'd be worth. The family that she'd become.
But Rhysand made sure you knew it all. From when the bond snapped in him and he'd stumbled. He ranted and ranted as they climbed out.
If only you were so talkative about Azriel. If only you could talk about him with your brother. But you'd tried not to painfully think about him. Climbing out of the mountain. It was all you could think of.
Maybe he'd have forgotten you? it had been fifty years. He'd probably realised how happy he could be without having to take care of you.
Rhys was allowed out of the mountain, he'd felt the breeze in his hair but you hadn't in fifty long years. You stood there a moment, bathing in the warmth as everyone left, as everyone ran off for their families and courts and the war that was inevitable. Eventually, Rhys offered you his arm. 'Shall we go home?'
He winnowed you there, on the balcony of your home. In a cloud of black smoke, the two of you appeared.
He went first, slipping through the doors slowly- like it could all be taken from them any minute.
You were hesitant, taking a moment to glance at the landscape behind you. It hadn't changed, not at all. The mountains were still there, everyone was still alive. Your home. In the last years it hadn't felt like home, but how could anywhere ever feel so close in your heart.
When you could find your feat again, you managed to slip through the doors. You were suddenly aware of how little clothing you were wearing, just enough to cover your chest and run down your legs. A chill settled down your back, your scars would be on show. What a way to great them all after fifty years.
Mor had her arms around Rhys's shoulders, crying into his shoulder.
Behind them you caught Amren, with something like tears in her eyes. You were just about to tease her before a body barrelled into yours in a blur of red syphons and your feet were lifted from the ground.
'Cassian.'
His arms tightened around you. You shoulder started to dampen with tears, his tears. The last time you'd seen him cry around you was when he'd seen a dog with only three legs. 'I'm keeping you on a leash from now on, stupid idiot.'
Your arms wrap around his shoulders, a smile gracing your lips. 'Is that a promise?'
He held you longer, tighter, not daring to let you go but at least settling you on the ground. He sighed against your head, controlling himself. 'He's missed you, you know,' he said. He was the only one you'd told, about your mate. 'Now that you're back, tell him. He deserves to know.'
Cassian slowly pulled away, holding you at arms length and smiling at you. He kissed your cheeks and then your forehead before parting to Rhysand.
Mor approached you next, slapping you in the arm.
'Ow!'
'Why would you follow him?' she snapped.
You blinked at her before she took you by the arm she'd slapped and embraced you, like a sister would. You dared not looking over her shoulder to find the one who hadn't come to you. Maybe Cass had got it wrong...
Mor pulled away, wiping at her eyes.
Azriel was as beautiful as the day you left him. His hair was the same length, he was the same height. He was just as you left him. It was hard to tell fifty years had passed on him.
And inside of you, tugging in your soul and heart you felt the familiar string of gold throbbing. But you still didn't feel that tug. You'd hoped it would have faded from you after half a year separated. Or at least have snapped for him. But no such relief.
He approached you, slowly. As if he was scared of scaring you away. But you just stood there.
His arms were delicate and soft around you as he brought you into his chest. He still smelled the same, cedar wood and shadows. Shadows that wrapped around you, shielding you from the rest of the room. They caressed you, head to two.
You held onto each other for what could have been another fifty years, but this time, it wasn't so painful.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
Although nobody wanted to part after yours and Rhysand's return, you were exhausted. A trip to Rita's could wait another night or two. The only thing you wanted to do was hide in your room.
Strangely, your room looked lived in. As if somebody had moved in since you'd left. A moment of anger replaced grief. Had they brought someone else and given them your room? but then you smelt it, Az.
Lying in bed that night, exhausted, you couldn't find sleep. You closed your eyes and pictured Amarantha. You'd never been afraid of her, you weren't afraid of anything. But you re-played the horrors. Watching servants beat Feyre, watching Amarantha use your brother and on the occasion, even you. How she flaunted. How the most powerful lords were weak.
Under your door, shadows seeped in, rushing across the room to you. You smiled, watching your hand disappear in their darkness.
'Azriel?' you called.
There was shifting on the other side of the door before he slipped in, clicking it shut behind him.
You sat up in bed, shadows moving with you. 'Couldn't sleep?'
He wondered in, looking around your room. 'Sleeping's been... hard.'
You rolled over, opening the blanket and nodding your head. You couldn't think about the bond, not yet. Not while he looked so.... ruined. Beautiful- the most beautiful person in the world, but sad. As he climbed in next to you, you could see the dark circles under his eyes, his shoulders slumped and his wings too.
His eyes scanned over you. You were in a thin and silk night dress that only brushed your knees, but the way he looked at you, mother you could've been naked. 'Fifty years,' his voice sounded barley controlled. 'Fifty years. You followed your brother down for fifty years? Why would you do that?'
You gulp. 'I would've done it for any of you. Except maybe Amren, she'd probably enjoy the peace for fifty years.'
You go to brush your hair back but Azriel seizes your wrist. He was angry. That's why his voice was rough and his chest rising and falling with barley controlled emotions. Could he feel it? your nerves, your lying?
'You left. You should've stayed, y/n, you know Rhysand didn't want you under there with him,' he said. 'For fifty years I haven't been able to sleep through a night thinking about the pain you must have been going through. After I swore to keep you safe, after I promised to catch you every time!'
'You couldn't have stopped me. You didn't promise, Az.'
His grip grew tighter. 'It went without saying.'
You looked around his eyes, seeing the pain and grief there also. Slowly, you brought your other hand up. He flinched as you took his cheek but eventually settled as your thumb ran over his cheekbone. 'I won't leave again, ok? I promise.'
He gulped, letting go of your wrist and looking down. 'I slept here,' he mumbled, but just loud enough to hear you. 'I couldn't sleep in my room. This was the only place I could rest.'
Your heart stuttered. Your hand dropped from his cheek. This man was your mate. Your mate. Your only love, whether or not the cauldron deemed it.
Azriel took your hesitation. 'I-i'm sorry, you probably didn't want to hear that. I've probably ruined your one place of peace-'
'Stay,' you said, before you could think of what you were asking. 'Sleeping wasn't exactly easy under the mountain either. I just trust I won't have to put a wall of cushions between us.' as if you wanted that. As if you haven't thought about his calloused hands all over you.
Azriel smiled and stayed the night.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
The third time he almost lost you, broke him...
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
2K notes · View notes
thebigbiwolf · 7 months
Text
Spittle - Part 1/2
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Summary: The chocolate seems innocent enough - if you look past the Infernal writing on the wrapper, and with so few pleasures in the wilderness, you all but jump at the chance to sneak yourself a small treat.
Unbeknownst to you, the bar is infused with succubus spittle. Just one square is rumored to contain enough potency to send a mortal into the throes of ecstasy.
This is what happens when you eat half the bar.
Fic Tags: Sex Pollen (kinda), aphrodisiacs, succubus magic, a bit of dom!Astarion, unprotected piv, overstimulation, he talks you through it (iykyk), more tags will be added later.
Fic Warnings: Explicit Smut (18+ MDNI), Dubcon (if you squint), Language, No use of Y/N, magical influence
Read on AO3: Here
A/N: Remember the dead spider? I remember the dead spider. Anyways, the reception I've been getting on Starvin', Darlin' has me wanting to thank everyone with a one-shot. This got away from me so I went ahead and split it into two parts.
I've never written anything like this and it was significantly more difficult than a multi-chapter fic. I hope everything comes across the way its supposed to! And a huge thank you to my beta @imaginarydromedary for...you know... encouraging me to post this, despite everything.
From what you could tell, there wasn’t much to the apothecary. 
As you push open the dilapidated doors, your first thought is to search for supplies - anything that could help if things went south on your way to the goblin camp. 
Dried herbs hang from the rafters beneath a thin veil of cobwebs, filling your lungs with a pungent clash of scents. Empty bottles lined the shelves along the wall, caked in several months worth of dust. Large chunks of the building were missing where stone met splintered wood, some areas almost entirely overtaken by greenery.
You step over broken shards of pottery, scanning over the floor and countertops for something - anything that may be of use, but to your disappointment, it seems like the shop was entirely ransacked long before your arrival.
You sigh deeply, knowing you’ll likely never hear the end of this from your companions. It was your idea to search the village. You were the one who suggested taking out the goblin scouts, exerting everyones’ energy, and now you’re afraid you’ll have very little to show for it.
You catch a glint of gold, an object reflecting the sun's rays beneath a pile of rubble. You kneel down to brush away the surrounding debris, thankful for even the smallest promise of coin before your hands catch on… some sort of serrated edge?
You pull at it, and it easily comes loose. It's a thin, rectangular block, just barely larger than the length of your hand. You wipe away some of the dirt with your sleeve, revealing an intricately designed foil wrapping underneath.
As you speculate what this might be, you hear footsteps approaching from behind, light and familiar. You turn to face the elf with a smirk.
“You’re supposed to be the stealthy one.” You chide at him, playfully, “Or has my blood put a little skip in your step?”
Astarion scoffs. “I’ve been here the entire time, watching you fumble around in the dirt.” 
Crimson eyes study you, then the object you’re holding. He places his hands on his hips, head cocked to the side with a raised brow. “Is that what you’ve dragged us all the way here for?”
“First of all,” you waggle a finger at him, “You’re especially grumpy when you’re tired. I’ll have to make a note to prioritize your beauty rest. Second, I haven’t finished looking around, but check this out.”
You hand the bar to him as you stand. The cool skin of his fingers brush against your own, and you’re irritated with the way your heart skips at the brief contact. Why did the one man you found attractive in your camp have to be such a primadonna? And such a huge pain in the ass? 
Astarion’s eyes scan over the textured paper with suspicion, angling it towards the light to get a better look. The golden wrapping is stamped with an image of red lips On the back, letters twist and curve in a language you don't recognize, following a single circular pattern where they meet in the center. You’ve never seen anything like this, neither in your travels, nor within the city walls of Baldur’s Gate.
“Where did you find this?” 
You shrug, then point to the pile next to you. “It was buried right there.” 
He silently stares at the foil, mouth pursed, until your patience begins to wear thin.
“Well, can you read it or not?”
His nose scrunches. “Of course I can’t read it. It’s written in Infernal.”
That’s… odd. Why would an ordinary apothecary sell goods made by devils? Or, worse, for devils. Unless, of course, it was some sort of marketing trick, perhaps a play on the phrase ‘sinfully sweet’, or some other cringeworthy branding.
You take it back, turning it over in your hands before tearing at the corner of the wrapping. It's sectioned into dark, rich squares, and smells indisputably like chocolate.
“It looks like candy.”
“An excellent observation.” he says, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Now, can we go? We’ve spent more than enough time here already.”
You roll your eyes and stuff it into your bag, setting off for camp, vampire in tow.
During dinner, you decide not to tell the others about what you found, knowing Astarion’s likely already forgotten the event. You set down your empty plate, thanking Gale for tonight’s meal. He smiles at you and bids you goodnight as you excuse yourself to your tent. 
You pick up your rucksack, thinking fondly of the dessert that awaits you inside. Having lived at the beck and call of your companions for weeks on end, you can’t help but smile at the idea of selfishly indulging in a small treat like this.
You tear open the rest of the wrapping and snap off one of the squares, immediately popping one into your mouth. It melts - buttery in texture, with a smokey, slightly bitter flavor. You can’t remember the last time you’ve eaten something so rich. Maybe weeks of the same rations have made you easier to impress, but this felt especially notable.
As you break off a second piece, a strange tingling sensation begins to spread across your lips - a pleasant buzzing that starts at your neck and spreads down through your chest. 
Strange, but not entirely unwelcome. You’ve heard of such inebriating chocolates, ones laced with alcohol or species of flowers that numb one’s senses for a short while. All harmless, of course, and you don’t have watch tonight. You may as well enjoy yourself. If worst comes to worst, Shadowheart is just outside with an assortment of spells and potions. Always better to ask for forgiveness.
It only takes you minutes to finish half the bar. You set the rest next to your bedroll for later and turn to blow out your candles, enjoying the lingering physical effects of the chocolate. Your skin feels flushed and delightfully warm as you settle down for the night.
When sleep finally takes you, it's dreamless, at first. Your consciousness sways, floating in an empty abyss, until colors begin to bleed onto the blank canvas of your mind.
A trickle of red morphs into the shape of familiar eyes, piercing you with their intensity..
Droplets of white spatter over a dark background, diffusing, blending into whisps. They curl and twist before settling into soft, coiffed fibers. 
Hair , you recognize immediately, his hair . His eyes.
Astarion. 
His image fully takes form, as if it had been waiting for you to make the connection before entirely revealing itself. 
He reaches out and seizes you, grabbing painfully at your hips as you crash into his body, hands exploring you - tight, possessive, squeezing at every inch of exposed skin before settling on the curve of your ass. He digs into your flesh with the blunt edge of his nails.
His lips press hot, wet kisses to your throat, mouthing just below the ear, before dragging his tongue along your nape and sucking, hard . You whine at the pressure, eliciting a grin from the elf, so characteristically pleased with the pathetic little noise he’s managed to pull from you.
“You thought sleeping would allow you to escape this - to escape me , unscathed?” He growls against your skin, his voice almost unrecognizable - as if it’s layered beneath a lighter, somehow more arrogant, feminine one.
“No, no, no. Wake up, darling. You’re in for a very long night.”
You startle awake, gasping - loud, labored breaths struggling to make use of the unbearably thin air. The edges of your tent bleed in and out of focus, spinning at a nauseating pace as you attempt to recollect yourself.
You wipe at the sweat collecting on your brow, the muscles of your arm heavy and aching, and find that your skin is absolutely drenched. 
Hot. Why is everything so hot? 
It's as if you're being cooked alive beneath your blankets, strangled beneath the furs. You throw them off; normally soft to the touch, the fibers now only worsen the prickling beneath your skin.
Could this be some sort of illness? A fever? 
No, this doesn’t make sense. Everything feels off. 
Fleeting thoughts of Astarion cross your mind - quick flashes of a sinful smile that was not his own.
It didn’t quite match the one you’d silently come to admire, and now that you think of it, the hunger in his gaze was much too intense for the reserved elf. 
His hands, his mouth, the way he touched you -
Your abdomen cramps, bringing your thoughts to a screeching halt.
A stabbing, visceral pain; a knife plunging into your organs. It overwhelms you, forces your body to curl into itself. You hold your pelvis, grunting, and grasp at your sheets. Tears sting the corner of your eyes.
This is - well, you have no idea what this is. 
You can’t think past the pounding in your head, the throbbing in your midsection. You're compulsively twisting, writhing, begging the gods for some sort of reprieve, but it's then when you make the most mortifying discovery of the night.
You’re soaked .
N ot just your smallclothes, which may have been understandable given your strange dreams, but through your damned pants. Not even the sheets were spared. 
“What  in the hells…?” 
You run your fingers over yourself, only intending to confirm the horrifying reality of your situation - that this is not, in fact, some sick, perverted nightmare, but the lightest touch sets off every nerve. 
You wail at the sensation: one massive wave of bliss giving way to several small jolts of pain. 
Pleasure to the point of agony.
The shock of the sudden orgasm courses from your sex through every limb, clenching and releasing pitiful, warm slick. It leaks freely out of you into your already thoroughly ruined underwear. 
Your heart pounds. You stay like that for what feels like a lifetime, toes curled, limbs twitching, waiting for your body to settle. 
After a minute or so, your breathing evens, and the thick haze surrounding your thoughts begins to lift just slightly, along with the suffocating heat. 
But something within you knows this isn’t the end - knows this isn’t enough . A desperation lurks beneath the surface that you can’t quite name. It screams at you. You need more.
‘Aw…’ A familiar, feminine voice prods at your mind. You quickly recognize her, the woman from your dreams who wore Astarion’s image.  
‘All alone, are we? Empty and needing to be filled? Doesn’t that hurt?’
It does. It aches unlike anything you’ve ever known. The lingering buzz of your orgasm just barely quells the worsening cramps, and they’re beginning to rear their ugly head again not minutes later.
You choke out a sob. “Wh- why are you doing this? What do you want?”
Sharp, wicked laughter fills your head, echoing off the walls of your skull. ‘I’m not doing anything, dear. Just enjoying the show.’ She hisses, ‘I told you, it’s going to be a very long night.’
You must be hallucinating. This fever - whatever this is, is simply cauterizing your senses, or possibly interacting with the tadpole? But the tadpole doesn’t speak, not like this. Never so clearly. Not with words.
Think, please. There has to be a reason this -
“Is everything alright?” Shadowheart raps on the canvas of your tent. “I heard a yelp. Are you hurt?”
Shit.
‘Ooh, this one might do!’  You feel an unwelcome… eagerness flood you.
No. No. Absolutely not.
You try not to panic. 
Under no circumstances should she or anyone else come in here.
The best strategy may be to ignore her - pretend you’re still sleeping. It seems like a good plan, but before you have a chance to follow through with it, another sharp contraction hits. This one is somehow even worse than the ones before. 
You pull your sheets up to your mouth to stifle your whine, but the half elf’s ears are sharper than most. “I’m coming in.”
She opens the flap to your tent and gasps when she sees you there - skin flushed pink, doubled over and covered in sweat. 
“Gods, what’s wrong? What’s happened?” Her hand reaches out towards you. 
Without thinking, you swat it away with your own. Your skin tingles at the contact, and the essence of a smile crosses over the threshold into your mind. The intruder giggles with satisfaction.
“Don’t,” you plead, “Don’t touch me.”
She scans over you, taking in your humiliating state. Her face twists with concern. “I need to know if you’re feverish. Please. You look awful.” 
‘Well, I think you look delectable.’
You groan.
At this point, you know it’s no use fighting this thing on your own. You go back and forth on whether you want to tell her the whole truth, about the voice in your head and its influence on your body, but the idea mortifies you into silence. 
Regardless, a cleric is likely your best chance of fixing this literal mess, so you nod, close your eyes, and brace yourself.
Shadowheart’s palm meets your forehead. It’s somehow worse than you anticipated. Even the simple, chaste touch sends you reeling, as if her soft hands are caressing your entire body. Flashes of heat wash over you, burning your skin, threatening to pull you back under another wave of ecstasy. 
It’s too much. You try your hardest to suppress a moan, but the muffled sound manages to escape from between your tightened lips, pitiful and broken.
The disembodied voice squeals with delight.
She quickly retracts her hand, clearing her throat. “Apologies. I can confirm your temperature is… elevated, but the rest…” She shakes her head. “I’ve never seen anything like this.”
You want to scream, cry - anything to release your frustration, but you keep your mouth shut, not wanting to risk making any more unsavory noises.
“I believe I can give you some relief by treating the fever, but I’ll have to consult the others on the rest. This doesn’t look like any ordinary sickness.”
Consult the others? No. Gods, no. Nobody can know about this. Is she mad?
You intend to protest, beg her not to share this with anyone, tell her whatever death awaits you on the other side of this would be preferable, but she’s speaking an incantation before you have the chance.
A bright, green aura envelopes you, cooling your skin and ever so slightly easing the cramps. With the pain dulled, it's as though you can finally think again. 
You want to laugh. This situation is so utterly ridiculous that you’d find it hilarious, were it anyone else, but with the modicum of relief comes exhaustion - eyelids heavy, vision blurring with weariness.
“Get some rest. We’ll figure this out.” 
Her reassuring words are the last thing you hear before you’re overcome by darkness.
2K notes · View notes
literaila · 3 months
Text
sick
gojo satoru x fem!reader
summary: satoru does not get the 'flu' that you have, or why you can't take megumi to the bookstore
warnings: symptoms of the flu, satoru is a bastard, cute kids
last part | next part
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*
year two.
you:  can you take megumi to the bookstore? i can't make it 
"megumi wants me to ask you what you mean by 'i can't make it.'" 
your phone rings as soon as the message is sent, making you groan and roll over in bed. your palms are sweaty, and your body feels a bit like you got eaten alive. 
you probably shouldn't have answered, but honestly, how can you be expected to make smart decisions in this state?
you sigh into the phone. "it means that i can't make it, satoru." 
usually, his voice would make you smile but right now it just makes you want to die. and sleep for a couple... billion years, at least. 
"megumi wants me to ask what you mean by that?" satoru says again like you can't tell he's grinning. 
"just let me talk to him," you sigh, turning over on your side, which does nothing to ease the ache in your abdomen, by the way. you feel briefly nauseous like you might need the bowl you dragged under the covers, but it eases. you swallow bile. 
"what's wrong?" satoru asks, still teasing, and doesn't put megumi on the phone because he has never, not once in his life done anything without an argument. 
really, why do you put up with him?
"nothing." 
"well you just forgot that both of the kids are in school right now, like they are every day, so..." 
you close your eyes, pulling the covers up even higher. "oh. yeah." 
"did you get hurt, or something?" satoru asks, no concern evident in his voice, "going on another mission?" 
"no." 
satoru is silent, waiting. and you really truly do hate him. anyone else would just do you this favor. 
but not your best friend, no, he does nothing you ask. 
"i'm sick," you tell him, after a whole minute of silence. 
you can almost hear it as his brows furrow. "what?" 
"i have the flu or something," you cough into the receiver, hoping that it hurts his ear. 
"how?" 
"ugh," you groan, trying to rub the ache out of your jaw. "not all of us are immune to getting sick, you freak. will you take megumi to the bookstore for me? please?" 
"i don't think he wants to go with me." 
"satoru," you whine. 
"...and also i'm not allowed to enter the premises anymore." 
you sniff, wishing that you had more tissues, "what? since when?" 
"a couple weeks ago," he answers, nonchalantly. you can hear him moving around, probably wreaking havoc on the house you'll have to deep clean in a couple of days. 
not to mention your room. seriously, getting sick is the worst. 
"why?" 
"nuh uh," he says to you, very seriously. "that's between me and the children. they swore me to secrecy, and you're the one that's always going on and on about trust and how easily it's broken..." 
"you mean that you swore them to secrecy." 
"i bribed them," satoru agrees as if it's not an insane thing to say about your seven and eight-year-olds. 
"with what?!" 
"tsumiki took the offer of picking whatever takeout she wanted, and i think megumi was just glad i couldn't bring him anymore, the brat." 
you can hear his eyes roll, and the mention of the little boy's name reminds you of why you're having this discussion in the first place. 
"satoru... i really can't take him and i promised we'd go today," you groan into your pillow, voice feeling very sore. you shouldn't be talking to this insane man right now, you should be asleep. 
he pauses. "i can wear a disguise, i guess?" 
you groan again, hopefully, louder. "no, you're right about him not wanting to go with you." 
"rude." 
"i guess i'll just..." you attempt to sit up for the third time, feeling a bit dizzy as you do so. "i'll take some medicine and see if i feel better by the time they get out of school."
you're already mentally checking your medicine cabinet, not even sure if you have anything to help this ease by later in the afternoon. just some pain relief would be nice, but if you're contagious...
"what? no."
"well, you can't take him," you answer, still annoyed. 
"he doesn't need to go..." 
you hope that satoru can feel your scowl. "i promised." 
"he's a reasonable kid..." satoru says, clearly not remembering the brooding that happened the last time megumi had to re-read one of his books. "i think." 
you're silent. 
"look, i'll talk to him, okay?" he settles on, finally. "and i'll give him a couple hundred yen, it'll be fine. 
your mouth opens, and you cough, before, "no, satoru--" 
"get some rest," he exclaims, unpleasantly. 
"have him call me when you pick them up, satoru--" 
"don't die of the flu or anything." 
and then he's gone, and now you've got a headache, too. 
*
you think you might be dreaming when you open your front door.
the knocking had woken you up--you think--but with how long it took to walk from your room, into the hallway, and then the door, honestly, you might've fainted. or decided to take another nap against the wall. 
because once you open it, it feels like you've done this before.  
once again, three people are standing in front of you, two of them already arguing before you even take a step back to swing the door all the way open. 
the light hurts your head as you squint at the three of them. 
"it was my idea--" megumi is saying to satoru, grumpy, you know, from all day at school, and because he's talking to satoru.
"you're not taking all of the credit," satoru says back, "i bought everything." 
"'cause you're rich." 
"wow, so you're objectifying me?" 
"yes," megumi answers immediately, even though you doubt that he even knows what objectifying means (actually, you're pretty certain satoru doesn't even know). you cough, and it feels like something has died inside of you. 
the three of them turn towards you, tsumiki with a pleading look.
"it was my idea, okay?" megumi tells you before anyone else can say anything, and then he pulls tsumiki along with him as they move past you, through the door, into your apartment. 
yes, it's clear that satoru has raised them. 
"i said we should bring soup," tsumiki looks up at you, waiting for the praise she knows you'll give her. 
"our idea," megumi amends, easily. 
then they're out of your reach, going to sit on the very same couch they'd slept on a year ago, probably trying to escape satoru.
who you turn to, with a frown. his hair is so white it hurts to look at.
he points into your apartment, "those are devil spawn." 
you cough. "don't call them that." 
he raises a brow at you. probably at how soft your voice is, or the fact that you haven't hit him in the thirty seconds he's been standing there. 
it's a new record. 
"why are you here?" you rasp out, wiping some snot from your nose.
"no 'hello?'" 
"hello, satoru," your voice is retched, "why are you here?" 
"you look kinda rough, kid," 
you sniff, leaning against the doorjam. you could fall asleep here in an instant. "i'm sick, you jerk." 
"so this is sickness..." satoru says, intrigued, pretending to inspect you closely like you're some lab experiment. 
"i distinctly remember a cold that had you shaking on the floor of your dorm, begging shoko to heal you." 
satoru points a finger at you. "that was an uncurable illness." 
"and yet we're still stuck with you." 
satoru just smirks, pretending to be an angel he is not. 
you cough again and then sigh. it's cold with the door open. "are you just here to annoy me?"
"no," satoru shakes his head, giving you a ridiculous look, "well, i was telling megumi that you couldn't take him to the bookstore, cause of your disease or whatever," he ignores your weak protest, "and then i suggested that maybe we could see how you were feeling, bring you a little gift basket--" 
"no, he didn't!" megumi calls. 
satoru frowns. "devil. spawn." 
you snort, somehow amused at all of them, finally moving aside so he can walk through the door. 
satoru passes, suddenly brighter, but not before leaving an obnoxious kiss on your cheek--a resounding smack following. to which, you promptly wipe off. 
he frowns, and you push him so you can close the door. and then you trail into the kitchen, sitting down immediately before you fall. 
it's so embarrassing that just standing for too long has made you this lightheaded. 
satoru sets a bag on your kitchen counter and begins to unpack it. 
you try to see over his hands. "what did you bring me?" 
"you guys are so unappreciative," satoru tells you, pouting, "you only want me for my goods." 
"and the view," you answer, easily. "what'd you get?" 
megumi and tsumiki comes over to you, both of them giving you a short (megumi) and tight (tsumiki) hug. you've trained them well. 
"soup!" tsumiki tells you, grabbing the container from satoru's hands, despite his look. and then she walks over to your stove, looking in the cupboards for a pot to heat it in. 
because she's used to taking care of herself. they both are. 
"satoru," you nod to her, and he frowns, but reluctantly takes over, pushing tsumiki away from the stove. you're both familiar with this behavior from her. 
most days when you make dinner, tsumiki is trying to sneak into the kitchen, refusing to let you take care of it. 
she pouts a little now, but lets satoru handle the soup.
"gojo got you all of these," megumi tells you, bringing your eyes away from the other man, pushing a stack of pill bottles and medicine containers your way. "i don't think he knows what any of them are." 
"hey! that's a great selection," satoru pours the soup into a pot and sets it on the stove, returning to the counter with the three of you.
"this is a muscle relaxant," you tell him, frowning as you look at the packages--most of which are not for the flu. this is why he's not allowed to go to the store without you.
"well, your muscles need to relax, don't they?" satoru asks, dryly. "wish we could find some of those for your brain..." he mutters, afterward, and you throw the packet right at his face. 
"i found those little sour things you like," megumi continues, smirking just a moment at satoru. "they didn't have a big bag." 
"thanks, megs." 
"there's tissues, and chapstick if your lips get dry. and i picked out the cough drops because gojo wanted to get chocolate flavored or something--" 
"strawberry!" 
megumi rolls his eyes. 
tsumiki steps to your side again. "and we got flowers, but those are still in the car." 
"no, they're not," satoru suddenly has a bouquet of roses in his hands, almost covering his entire face. "they're right here." 
"when did you do that?" 
"when you guys were ridiculing my excellent taste," he pouts, white hair falling over his glasses. 
you laugh. 
"where's your vase?" he asks, going through every cupboard before finally listening to your answer. he settles on the other end of your kitchen, cutting and arranging the bouquet. 
tsumiki taps you. "are you feeling bad?" 
"just a little out of it, sweetie, don't worry." 
"did we get everything you need?" megumi chimes in, giving you a brief moment of eye contact before looking away. 
"yes. you guys did great, thank you both. you're very sweet." 
satoru ahems loudly. "and what about me?" 
"you could've done better." 
the kids both laugh and you push them into the living room, telling them to go sit down for a bit--knowing that satoru dragged them from school to the store to here without a break--and that you'll find a snack for them. 
and then you sigh, a bit nauseous from sitting up for so long. 
"do you need to lay down?" satoru peers at you, setting the bouquet on your table. "you look green." 
"thanks. how'd you learn to do that?" you gesture to the flowers which are arranged beautifully. honestly, you're surprised he didn't leave them on the counter for you to deal with. 
"i am a gentleman." 
"ha. no, seriously." 
"...i may, or may not have looked up what to bring someone who has the flu--and the flowers were extra, but!" he pauses as you laugh at him, resting your head against the cool counter. "i only had to do that because i don't get affected by stupid things like the flu or whatever you have." 
"of course," you whisper, closing your eyes. 
and then there's a hand on your forehead. "you're really warm." 
you press your head into his hand, which is also pleasantly cold. "yeah." 
"did you sleep all day?" 
you nod. 
"really? that's so lazy." 
you push him away, and he laughs, just loud enough for you to hear it. you open your eyes again when you hear him move away, watching him stir the soup on the stove. 
"you probably shouldn't have brought them here," you tell him, gesturing to the living room. "i don't want to get them sick." 
"they missed you," satoru shrugs. "you wouldn't want them to be sick alone." 
"yeah, but..." 
"i'm the worrier today," he interrupts, wrapping his hand around your wrist so he can pull you. "go lay down on the couch with them and i'll get your soup ready." 
"you'll burn it, you mean?" 
"as a punishment for all of the cruel things you say to me," and satoru smiles as he nudges the top of your head with his nose. 
his eyes are almost stern (almost, but not quite) as he watches you lay down on the couch, your hands gestured in defeat, and nods when you're settled in. 
when he walks away, you call, "bring us some water!" 
there's no response, but you know he'll do it. 
tsumiki just slightly nudges you with her hand and you smile, opening your arms for her to cuddle under. 
megumi doesn't do the same, but you don't fail to notice when he scooches just a little bit closer to you both, his thigh touching yours. 
your head still hurts and even the smell of the soup is making you a bit sick, but you'll deal with it as long as they're all here. 
*
you're arguing with satoru about dinner, several days later, when tsumiki and megumi sneeze at exactly the same time. 
it took a couple of days for you to recover, but now you're better than ever, happily fighting with satoru over the stupidest things and watching over both of the children for any defects that happened while you were out of sorts. 
they're mostly okay. 
but now the both of you look over to them, your eyes wide, satoru almost wincing. 
and then you look back to him, already scowling. 
"hey, it was just a sneeze," he tells you, quickly, already knowing what you're about to say. 
"i told you--" 
and then he sneezes, taking a step away from you. 
you groan, giving up on dinner. it looks like the next few days are going to be spent coddling all of your children. 
*
next part
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qaxqxd · 10 months
Note
Miguel O’Hara with an s/o who is on they’re period but gets super cuddly because of the headaches and cramps?
Warmth
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♡Pair: Miguel O’hara x f!reader Genre: Fluff Warning: nothing bad,  just fluff :) A/n: AAAA I love this idea. It's a little short, but thank you for requesting this. Summary: You're on your period and you wanted to cuddle with Miguel.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It was morning, the sun was seeping through the blinds. You woke up feeling a unbearable sharp pain in your lower stomach. Walking to the restroom, seeing blood on your underwear.
“Shit.” You cursed, as you felt a headache coming through.You were on your period.
Great.
Cleaning yourself up, and putting on a pad. To walk back to the bedroom, laying down on your bed. You mumbled in pain. As you decide to call in from work today. You notify the watch. You were aching from your stomach. 
You had your phone and watch turned off. You tried to fall back to sleep, hoping the pain would go away.
-
Miguel found it weird that you weren’t at work today. He knew you called in sick, but as you weren’t picking up any of his calls. He even asked Lyla to see if you were okay over the watch, but you had it turned off. He started to get a bit worried. As he paced around the platform and looking at other missions that he sent Spider-mans to.
 Lost in thought Miguel didn’t even realize that Jess was right behind him.
“You okay there?” She asked him.
Miguel flinched a bit, looking over his shoulder to who the voice was. As he noticed it was Jess.
“I’m- just a little worried. (Y/n) hasn’t answered any of my calls or texts. She called in sick, but I don’t know. Something just doesn’t feel right.” Miguel pinches the bridge of his nose, frowning. He was very worried for you.
“She’s probably fine. Have you checked on her yet? As in person?” Jess bridges her arms together. Miguel shook his head. As she sighed.
“I can take over for a bit if you’ll like.” She offers him.Miguel found it weird that you weren’t at work today. He knew you called in sick, but as you weren’t picking up any of his calls. He even asked Lyla to see if you were okay over the watch, but you had it turned off. He started to get a bit worried. As he paced around the platform and looking at other missions that he sent Spider-mans to.
 Lost in thought Miguel didn’t even realize that Jess was right behind him.
“You okay there?” She asked him.
“Yeah, sure. I’ll be back.” He said with haste, opening a portal to (Y/n)’s Earth. As he left, Jess let out a small giggle. As (Y/n) texted her earlier letting her know everything was alright. She knew you just wanted him to be with him, and she was happy to help you success with that.
Miguel needed a break either way.
-
As the sun seems to set on your Earth. Miguel arrived at your apartment, he had his own key to your apartment. You knew it’d be handy someday. Opening your door to your apartment.
“(Y/n)?” He questioned if you were home even.
“In here.” You drag out the word ‘here’. As you sounded tired. He walked into your room.
“Are you alright, mi amor?” He sat on the side of your bed, stroking your face. As you nodded at his question, you sat up a little bit, wrapping your arms around his neck.
“It’s just that I'm on my period.” You mumble, laying your head on his shoulder.
“Ah, do you want any sweets or anything by chance, mi vida?” He asked, a little worried. He was glad you weren’t actually hurt, or in trouble. You shook your head, as really all you wanted was to be close to him.
“Could you stay for a bit, Love?” You looked at him, hoping he would say yes. As his small smile confirmed that he’d stay.
“Of course I'll stay for a bit, mi querida. I want to take care of you.” Miguel cups your face, laying a kiss on the crown of your head.
And he did just that. He made sure you had everything you needed. Holding you close to him, knowing you’re feeling super cuddly. You both watched movies with each other. As you snuggle closer to him.
You spend the rest of the day with Miguel. He got you treats even though you said it was fine. You were just glad you had him around you, and you were able to cuddle against him. This was a side most people wouldn’t see from Miguel, but he was just happy to be with you.
As you two rested on each other. Cuddling with each other. Eventually falling asleep on each other.
-
WC. 0.7k
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rene-darling · 19 days
Text
WOULD- he send n00ds? And how?
...would these modern college AU genshin men send n00ds to you?...
...Xiao...wanderer...lyney...
Xiao
No.
Absolutely- not.
The very idea is preposterous and disgusting. And after all, he's heard wayyy too many stories of a person's nudes getting leaked, and he does not want his stuff all out there.
He trusts you, yes. But especially at the beginning of your relationship, there's not enough trust for him to do that.
Xiao doesn't usually go to frat parties, but his friend is the one throwing this one so he felt obliged to go. What could go wrong?
Xiao doesn't drink, nor does he party, but after chugging drink after drink and being sat in a circle playing truth or dare, his tipsy mind is feeling rather- ballsy.
So it goes as follows, he picks dare and gets dared into sending nudes to the last person he's messaged, Xiao's great at keeping secrets so no one knows that you're dating, truth be told- even in his drunken state if the last number he texted had been anyone else, he wouldn't have done it.
But it's you. So his drunken mind agrees. He takes a rather risky photo, some alcohol is dripping from his mouth, sweat runs down his forehead, his back is arched and he gives such a sultry look. Then, he presses sent. The rest of his night is spent partying and drinking more, so his memory of doing this fades into bliss- that is, until the next morning.
Accompanying his painful headache is a certain memory, that makes him physically gag in remembrance, he rushes to check his phone, hoping- praying that you didn't see it- he thinks he's gonna faint from embarrassment when he sees the little *seen* at the bottom of the text.
Fuck. You saw it. You didn't even respond- he shoves his head into the pillow screaming externally and internally- you fucking saw it! And-...you didn't even respond..does that mean you don't like it..? Wait. That's the least of his worries!!!
He's happy about the fact that he doesn't have to see you in his first few classes. But then, it's time for a class that you both have together.
He has half the mind just to skip, but eventually, he has to face you, better be it now than later right?
Whatever, it'll be fine, he'll just explain to you- that he didn't mean it, he was drunk n at a party he wasn't thinkin-
Suddenly Xiao hisses as he's pulled into the janitors closet on his way to class, he swiftly turns his head to glare at the person who did this- it's you.
"So, Xiao, about the pictures you sent. I called you at least 10 times after those, but..you didn't answer." He opens and closes his mouth like a fish, his whole plan goes out the window as he just meekly stares up at you. This wasn't what he expected, but it wasn't something he disliked-..perhaps...he should send some to you even when he has clarity of mind?
Wanderer
Far too skeptical to entertain such a thought.
If you mention it first he'll just scoff at you and give you a dirty glare "Do I look like one of your whores?" "But baby- you're my only whore not one of them-" expect to get a glare from him the whole lecture, in and out of the class. His stare is practically sending you a death threat
Later, if he catches himself thinking about what you asked of him he cringes at himself and the thought.
He's not one to trust people easily, he's been stabbed in the back, and betrayed far too much to be vulnerable enough and to trust you enough to send nudes.
His head runs wild, what if you didn't like what you saw? What if you decided he was so ugly you needed to share those photos with those around you? What if, what if what if.
It's only later on, deep into your relationship that the thought of sending pics crosses his mind once more.
He's tapping his foot harshly against the ground. He's sitting at his seat as students pour into the lecture hall, his eyes scan the room as he sees you walk in and wave at him, just like always. You sit next to him, but he just can't maintain eye contact.
He has his phone in his right hand, staring at the screen intently as the sound of the classroom processes as background noise for him. Should he? What if you don't like it? What if you just meant it as a joke and you'll actually get disgusted once you gaze upon the photos..?
He sighs resting his head on his desk in contemplation. 'I mean...I took some measures just in case, I'm sending it on snap so she can't save or look at it again..fuck-..it should be fine..right..?' his thoughts are jumbled but ultimately he- "fuck it." And he presses sent.
Now it's just a matter of waiting for you to check your phone, it's like the clock is ticking extra slowly and you're doing this on purpose, aren't you? You heard the ding so check the goddamn phone already- and then you picked up your phone, once you noticed it was your boyfriend who texted you, you glanced at him, a confused expression, he's sitting right next to you- so why would he- oh.
Almost immediately you duck your phone down under your desk, you don't want to share this sight with any eyes that aren't yours.
"..why now? Fuck- you look pretty..?" Your mumbling- he has you mumbling. That's a good thing right?
And- and you complimented him- that means you liked it right?
He's such a brat, sending you a photo of his back arched, his tongue sticking out as he was wearing a short skirt with thigh highs, you could catch a glimpse under it from the picture- in which you could tell he wasn't wearing anything.
Your boyfriend who loved baggy clothes and dark styles was wearing a pink flirry skirt!
Heats pooling in your pants as you glare at him,
He had a smug look on his face- looking oh so proud. Anyways- he thought you would wait and fuck him after class. But once he felt your hand creeping up his thigh his eyes widened in shock as he realized you had no plans to wait until after the lecture.
lyney
Agrees.
Well- he's definitely startled at your request, out of all things...this is what you desire most?
"mon amour- out of all things I- gulp didn't expect you to ask for n-...indecent photos." He's startled to say the least,
But he's not completely against the idea of it.
Your darling lyney is a magician, quick on his feet, he quite quickly puts that flustered face away to replace it for a rather cheeky one.
"Mon amour, I knew you missed me whenever I was busy practicing for my shows but to this extent! my-"
"forget it." His smug attitude is a turn off. At times.
Letting go of the idea you didn't really think he would go through with it anytime soon.
You don't expect anything unusual to happen today, like always you kiss lyney good luck for his show before heading to the audience to watch him perform from there.
Lyney's cheeky grin is noticed by you, but you just assume he's giddy for his show, heading into the audience to wait for your boyfriend,
you hear a ding. And as you open the message you drop your phone to the ground. It's a simple picture, it's of lyney, he sends you pictures of himself on the daily so what was so shocking about this one?
Well- for starters he's naked. Tied up with intricate red ropes, they look tight, especially around his thighs- wait. You recognize those ropes, they're the same ones he's gonna use for his performance today!-
And he does. Flaunting around those ropes in his performance, the same ones from the damn photos.
Lyney walks into his dressing room as usual- that is before he's pinned to the wall by none other than you.
"oh? Are you that excited to congratulate me on today's performance?" As your hand tightens around his wrist he starts to feel even more giddy
"what the fuck was that? " "Hm? Did you mind? It was a present." He's so smug.
"no- the ropes. You used the same ones from the performance didn't you- you cheeky fuck-"
"the ropes are over there, if you plan on doing something you should hurry, I have a fan meet n greet soon~" "oh I'll hurry alright."
You didn't hurry, for some reason unknown to his fans, the magician was unable to attend the meet n greet.
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norrizzandpia · 9 months
Text
Masterlist 1
- Disclaimer! All of these have happy endings, I am not one for sad endings lol
- More works on Masterlist 2 which you can find the link to on the pinned post on my blog
Lando Norris:
Reckless Driving
When McLaren thinks its funny to put Y/n in a sports-car with her boyfriend and a set of question cards. Spoiler Alert: She doesn’t!
The Infamous Stream
When Max streams and the chat goes wild for Lando and Y/n’s sappy love.
I Can’t Help Falling In Love With You Pt. 2
What if love isn’t enough? What if the obstacles are too great and all the whirlwind romance ends up being is the right person, but wrong time?
Call Your Mom
Y/n’s struggle with mental health and the journey, accompanied by Lando and her best friends, she goes through in order to get better.
London Boy
In which she falls in love with a London boy as an American girl.
Flowers
After the Silverstone Grand Prix, Y/n wants to do something nice for her successful boyfriend, but she quickly finds out her kind gesture means a lot more to him than what she expected.
Caught
When living with their best friends proves to be the worst decision Lando and Y/n ever made.
Used Pt. 2
A bet can do more harm than good.
She Doesn’t Know Who I Am Pt. 2
Lando’s in New York and no one knows who he is. Especially the girl who asks for his number.
Enemies To Lovers, Ya Know?
They’ve always hated each other. Always. Right?
Gentle
In which Y/n’s past is a little haunted, but Lando knows exactly how to make her understand that she is safe with him.
Spa
When a reality check causes Y/n to worry about him coming home to her every day for the rest of their lives.
Try On! (Smut Warning)
She thought his opinion on some new lingerie would be good. Spoiler alert, it was good. Really good.
The Softest Launch
He tried to be a secret, but the eyes never lie.
It’s the High Altitude. (Smut Warning)
They’ve missed each other. What can they say?
The Video Pt. 2
Y/n and Lando’s club dancing sends the F1 world into a frenzy.
Lando’s Biggest Fangirl Pt. 2 Pt. 3
His girlfriend. Lando’s biggest fangirl is his girlfriend.
I’m Sorry To Go
She’s not quite ready to have him leave just yet.
What Are You Doing Up?
She can’t go to sleep when he isn’t there.
I Can’t Go a Second Without You
She was gone for five hours, but apparently that’s too long in Lando’s book.
Happy Birthday
It’s his favorite person’s birthday.
Don’t Wake Up Yet (Smut Warning)
When Lando gets home from a race weekend without his girlfriend, he just can’t wait.
Lacy Pt. 2 (Oscar Ending) Pt. 2 (Lando Ending)
To the song “Lacy” by Olivia Rodrigo, that should be enough summarized.
I Love Your Body
It was the mirrors.
Boyfriend Lando
Where the chat goes crazy for Boyfriend Lando.
Longing Glances and Whispered Confessions Pt. 2
In which, in the darkness of the night, Lando Norris loves Y/n Fewtrell, only for the pain of their secrecy to plague them in the daylight.
Oscar Piastri:
*I also have another Oscar imagine under the Lando section. It is titled Lacy and has an Oscar ending, something you will see if you look at it. It is the second part to an imagine focused on reader loving Lando when he loves someone else. The Oscar ending was incredibly popular and one of my favorites to write! Hope you stumble across this and find that Lacy (Oscar’s Ending)*
Let Me Love You
A friendship where the lines are incredibly blurred is risky, but it’s even more risky to fall in love with a girl who won’t let anyone in romantically.
Caught
Y/n’s and Oscar’s fun in his room takes a surprising, awkward turn very quickly.
- The Vacation (Smut Warning)
They just keep getting caught. (Could be read as a Caught Part 2 or a standalone)
This Is About Oscar?! Pt. 2 Pt. 3
Y/n’s new song exposes a side of Oscar no one knew about.
I’ll Be The Fred To Your Daphne
He’ll always be the Fred to her Daphne, the peanut butter to her pb and j, and the salt to her pepper.
Best Friends To Benefits To Lovers
They’ve been dating for months after being the closest of friends for years. The question is, however, did they start out as best friends with benefits?
The Quiet Night and the Loud Morning (Smut Warning)
It was bound to happen at some point.
Hurt Me Once Pt. 2
In which they just miss the childhood best friends to lovers trope.
She Wears The Pants, Right?
Nobody saw it coming. Nobody.
Let Me Help
She’s got a math test the next day and unfortunately, she can’t do math. However, her boyfriend can.
Loving You in the Shadows Pt. 2
They’ve been together for years. Well, they haven’t been together for years. Yet.
Cover It Up
That one piece of clothing was covering so much and Oscar just had to take it off.
She’s Missed You
In which Nicole and Chris welcome Oscar’s longtime girlfriend to live with them after he leaves, only to not tell him and have to update him when he shows up for a surprise visit.
Charles Leclerc:
Edits
When Carlos exposes Y/n watching edits of her boyfriend on Instagram. She’s incredibly embarrassed, but after an interesting conversation with the man himself, should she really be?
2K notes · View notes
angelltheninth · 9 months
Note
hey again!
hope you are doing !
can you do one ff with fem readerx dan heng from hsr xD I love him so so much xD
(ps dan heng getting jealous because female reader is too friendly with sampo xD )
Dan heng gets angry and it ends with lots of smut xD okayy!
I love Dan Heng too! Maybe a little too much lately. Kidding, there can never be too much.
Pairing: Dan Heng x Fem!Reader
Tags: nsfw, smut, jealousy, possessiveness, biting, marking, rough sex, growling, only breed no pregnant, bathroom sex
A/N: I love Dan Heng is the one character who can always breed you and you don't have anything to worry about.
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Jealous!Dan Heng who doesn't like how touchy Sampo is with anyone but most of all you. Now Sampo doesn't know that the two of you are in a relationship so in his mind it's just some harmless flirting. For Dan Heng it looks like Sampo is trying to steal you away.
Jealous!Dan Heng who sits next to you before anyone else can and puts his hand on your thigh. No one can see this except for you, no one knows he's jealous except for you. Him hand tightening every time Sampo winks at you is a dead giveaway to his unspoken feelings.
Jealous!Dan Heng who leans in to whisper that he wants to get out of here. When you very cheekily ask him why he tells you to follow him and you'll find out. Or you can stay, but then you have to be really quiet. Your whole body heats up when his fingers push your thighs apart. Oh he is more then just jealous, he's horny too.
Jealous!Dan Heng who looks down at Sampo when you pass by him and makes sure he sees the hand-holding. He's usually not the most touchy person in public but he will make an exception this one time. To your surprise he doesn't walk you towards the exit but towards the bathrooms. Of course he checks if there's anyone in there before he ushers you in and locks the door.
Jealous!Dan Heng who pushes you to sit on one of the sinks and tells you that he will mark every inch of you that he can. When you walk out of here everyone will know you belong to him and he won't even have to say a word. Just you knowing you're his clearly isn't enough. How could it be when humans don't have a keen sense of smell, they can't smell that the two of you are mates. He'll make it even more obvious.
Jealous!Dan Heng who wants you to keep your legs open until he says so and try to keep quiet as much as you can, it would be unbecoming if you were caught in the act. He doesn't hold back at all when biting you, he doesn't take it slow, he sinks his teeth into your soft thigh, higher and higher up until he can suck on your clit through your wet panties.
Jealous!Dan Heng who is very proud of his work but that's not nearly good enough for him. When he tells you to turn around you're already pushing your ass towards him, spreading your legs because you know he's not leaving this bathroom until he's filled you with his cum, marked you with it's scent from the inside.
Jealous!Dan Heng who exposes your neck and shoulders so he can leave marks there as well. Every time he bites down he pushes his cock into you, doubling your pleasure by adding the pain. In the mirror you can clearly see his eyes shining, you can even see his horns for a brief moment, glowing and then vanishing as his grunt is muffled by your flesh.
Jealous!Dan Heng who loves the way his rutting echoes around the bathroom, all around the, the sound and smell of sex heavy in the air. He watches your eyes, almost darkened out by arousal, roll into the back of your head while your pussy tightens around him. When he stopped it wasn't just to let you recover from that it was so your vision could clear for long enough to focus on the reflection again, he wants you to look at his face when he shoots his cum into your womb.
Jealous!Dan Heng who lets you catch your breath for a few moments, shushing you, petting down the bite marks on your thigh, cradling you against him and kissing you. When it's safe he sneaks you out of the bathroom and back to the table, his face blank when he sees Sampo notices the not at all hidden bite marks. His hand is back on your thigh again, this time only caressing them.
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aemondsbabe · 2 months
Text
Give Me an O!
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summary: billy walks in on you in a bit of a compromising situation, and you finally go after what you want
pairing: billy hargrove x cheerleader!reader
warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, reader is very flexible, minor injury it's fine, piv sex, unprotected sex oopsy daisy, public sex technically, hand over mouth, fingering, breast/nipple play if you blink, dirty talk, reader's hair is long enough that she can have a ponytail but no other physical descriptors are used, billy is a himbo, steve harrington cameo
word count: 5k
a/n: finally getting around to a request from @sweetshifter! thank you for the idea bby & i hope ya enjoy! also, my first time writing for stranger things! yay! images in the header are for aesthetic purposes only!
likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!
gif creds to @unwanted-animal
🖤 my masterlist
🌟add yourself to my taglist to be notified when i post new fics!
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“You sure you don’t want me to stay with you?” Your best friend asks as she slings her gym bag over her shoulder, “I don’t mind staying a couple minutes.”
“Nah,” you shrug, still panting a little from practice as you lean to the side with a little sigh, stretching down toward your leg, “You go on, I’ll catch you tomorrow.”
“Alright, cool,” she chirps, glossy lips flicking up into that sincere, beaming smile that had become her signature, “Bye!” She calls over her shoulder as she turns, white tennis shoes thumping against the shiny wooden floor as your name echoes around the gym. 
“Bye, Chrissy!” You reply with a smile, glancing up as the heavy metal doors at the side of the room click closed, leaving you alone for the time being. 
With a tired huff, you check your watch, one that matched Chrissy’s exactly – gold with a baby pink face. You’d gotten them at the mall last summer, a joint birthday present. 
4:34pm.
A sigh leaves your lips as you lunge forward, hands planted firmly on your hips as you try to ignore the slight burn in your thigh. So, that’s… like, forty-five minutes until basketball practice starts, you think, eyes pointed up at the white metal ceiling as you do mental math, trying to figure out exactly how long you’ll have to work on your stretches. 
Deciding to give yourself a few more minutes before calling it a day, you breathe out steadily through your pursed lips as you switch sides and lunge forward again, savoring the light burn in your calf. After a fifteen second count, you move onto your hands and knees, needing to stretch out your back. 
You hum softly under your breath, one hand planted firmly against the blue tumbling mat beneath you as the other reaches back and grabs onto one of your ankles, your limbs forming a graceful arch above you. A small grunt leaves you as you pull your leg up as high as you can, before dropping it down and reaching back with your other hand to do the other side. Mid-pose, you swear you hear one of the gym doors click open, the one out to the hallway with the locker rooms and various storage closets judging by the direction, but you’re so focused on holding your pose, you honestly can’t be sure. 
Huffing, you decide to just ignore it – Probably just the janitor or something, you think, keeping your eyes focused, once again, on the white metal ceiling as you roll over onto your back. 
Breathing steadily, you let your eyes slip closed as you press both legs together before slowly lifting them up, using your hands and elbows to support your back as you lift onto your shoulders. Wincing slightly at the twinge of pain from your left one, you work through it, trying to keep your breath steady. As your green and gold cheer skirt pools at your waist, you silently pray that if it is a janitor, that it’s at least not the creepy one.
Slowly but surely, you work both legs up and over your head until the tips of your white sneakers press into the mat, your arms planted firmly onto the floor for support. 
One Mississippi, two Mississippi, three Mississippi, you count silently, breathing a little shakily as you focus on balancing… and on ignoring your shoulder. 
Suddenly, a loud wolf-whistle cuts through the silence of the gym, punctuated by a few slow claps and the heavy footsteps of someone walking across the wooden gym floor. 
“Aah!” You squeak as you topple to the side, concentration thoroughly broken. Huffing, you prop yourself up on one elbow as your head snaps up, eyes already narrowed into an irritated glare. Upon seeing who it is, you can’t help but sneer.
“Can I help you, Hargrove?” You sigh, exasperated, rolling your eyes as you angle both legs out in a side split, determined to get through your stretches even with the added annoyance of Billy’s presence.
“Just admiring the view, princess,” he drawls, blue eyes trailing up the length of each of your spread legs in a way that makes your cheeks flush, “You’re real good at that, aren’t you?” He questions, plump lips quirked up into that signature, flirtatious smirk. 
“Good at what?” You ask, brows furrowing as you bend over to the left, easily grasping the toe of your tennis shoe as the muscles in your legs stretch into a taut, familiar ache. 
He chuckles at that, hands on his hips as he studies you, the spicy, woodsy smell of his cologne filling the space around you. He cocks his head to the side, pearly white teeth flashing every few seconds as he chews a piece of gum. 
“Stretching,” he all but purrs, golden curls blowing slightly from the large fans that hum loudly on the ceiling. His tongue darts out to wet his lips as he ogles at you, watching carefully as you bend to the right, “I bet it’d be really easy to just fold you up like a pretzel, huh, sweets?” 
With a sigh, you finally let yourself relax for a moment and tilt your head up to look at the boy as you lean back on your hands, your ponytail swishing across your shoulder blades as you do. 
“In your dreams, Billy,” you murmur, trying to keep the expression on your face plaid, wholly uninterested, which is easier said than done. 
You don’t like Billy, and you’re very quick to correct anyone who says you do, even if it is just friendly teasing. But, well, there’s something about him that just draws people into his orbit – charisma combined with a certain mystique. You knew from talking to the girls in the locker room that he was a lady’s man, and a player, but from how they all talked about him, there appeared to be something more there, some hidden layer that no one had been able to crack yet. He’s different from the other boys in Hawkins, no small town charm to hide behind. 
Plus, come on, he’s gorgeous. You might not be Billy’s biggest fan but you have eyes. 
“Damn right, in my dreams,” he murmurs, pulling you from your thoughts as he draws out every syllable of your name in a low, husky tone, familiar smirk playing at his lips like always. 
Cocking your head, you narrow your eyes as you peer up at him, “Aren’t you going out with Amber now?”
“Wouldn’t exactly call it going out…,” he answers as he bends down on one knee to retie the laces of his shoe, shooting you a little wink as he does so. 
“Does Amber know that?”
He pauses at that, a little huff of laughter bubbling up from his chest as he fixes you with a grin that is much too self-satisfied for your liking. “Now, princess,” he starts slowly, blue eyes narrowing at you playfully as he rests a forearm across his knee, “Why do you care so much about what I’m doing with Amber?”
“She’s my friend, Billy,” you say, sitting up a little more, the chill from the AC units making the hairs at the nape of your neck stand on end. 
“So, it’s definitely not because you’re, I dunno, jealous or anything?”
“No!” You cringe inwardly as you say it, too quick and too defensive and just what the blue eyed boy had been hoping for, judging by the smug grin plastered on his face. 
This is how it’s been between the two of you for months now, ever since his stupid Camaro had rumbled into the school’s parking lot way back in August. Since then, it’s been a whirlwind of teasing jokes, sitting through History class after History class as you feel those blue eyes practically boring a hole in the back of your head, and somehow mustering up the willpower to dodge his advances. 
In the nearly three months since his arrival, Billy had managed to charm his way through at least a handful of girls, maybe more depending on which rumors you listen to, but you are determined not to fall for it, not to be just another notch on his bedpost. 
Which would be a lot easier if he’d leave you the hell alone. 
Flustered, you pull your knees up, tucking your chin over top of them as your arms wrap around your calves, silently rolling your eyes as Billy drops to the blue tumbling mat, rolling onto his back with a satisfied sigh, making it clear to you that he was here to stay. 
“Why’re you here so early, anyway?” You question, glancing at your watch once more, “Basketball practice isn’t for, like, another half hour.” 
“Had to drop my stupid step-sister off at some trash arcade,” he grunts, annoyed, “Didn’t wanna waste the gas to go all the way home, plus…,” he pauses, tilting his head to the side to slyly grin at you once more, “I figured I might get here early enough to catch the end of cheer practice.” 
“Creep,” you scoff, much more playfully than you’d intended to. 
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The two of you fall into a, surprisingly, comfortable beat of silence. You let your eyes trail over Billy as his own droop shut, one arm propped behind his head as he lazes on the gym mat, jaw clenching every so often as he works the gum in his mouth. You start at his feet, taking in the faded black canvas material of his Converse before you let your eyes roam up his long, tanned, muscular legs. Finally, you reach the familiar dark green shade of his school-branded shorts and your eyes wander up the expanse of his stomach and chest, covered by the grey t-shirt he wears, the familiar eyes of Hawkins High’s tiger mascot staring blankly into your own. 
You nearly gasp as your eyes trail up to his face again, only to find his steely eyes already looking at you, a knowing smirk etched into his face as you feel the apples of your cheeks flush. 
“It’s rude to stare, princess,” Billy drawls, catching you red handed.
“And it’s not rude to perv on me stretching?” 
“Never said it wasn’t,” he shrugs with a little chuckle, sitting up and resting one forearm on a bent knee. You merely roll your eyes as he studies you for a second, the blush on your cheeks deepening enough that you can feel the slight tingle of blood rushing under the surface. 
“Whatever,” you sigh, shaking your head as you stretch your legs out in front of you again. You stretch forward again, letting out a breath as you grab at your ankles and try to ignore the way Billy sits up, propping his forearm up on a bent knee. 
“Could you, like, put your legs behind your head and all that?” 
“Probably,” you say with a little eye roll. 
“Will you?”
“Not for you!” 
The two of you carry on like that for a moment longer — you working through various stretches and familiar yoga poses as Billy seems overly curious about each one, questioning if you can twist into all kinds of poses. 
“Can you do a handstand and do the splits?” He questions, grinning when you groan in frustration, eyes trailing up your long legs to the bottom of your short cheer skirt. 
With a huff, you stand with one hand on your hip, the other pinching at the bridge of your nose as Billy’s incessant questions throw you off the silent count in your head again.
“Did you want something or are you just trying fuck me over?” 
“Mmm, close, princess,” the blond teases, earning another glare from you. Playfully, he holds his hands up in surrender, “You’re single, aren’t you?” He asks, smirking triumphantly at the way you balk.
“I’m not talking about this with you, Hargrove.”
His smirk widens when you don’t deny it, blue eyes darkening as they travel over the length of your body once more. “Look, all I’m saying is that the guys talk in the locker room and… well, I can’t help but notice that your pretty name just doesn’t come up.”
“Maybe I have better things to do than put out for you assholes,” you smirk, quickly stretching out your problem shoulder before kneeling back on the tumbling mat, meaning to finish up with a couple quick pushups.
Undeterred, Billy merely matches your smirk with one of his own, watching as you kneel next to him. “Just come with me to Harrington’s Halloween party next weekend, sweetness,” he offers, his voice a low rumble, “Come on, a couple hours, some drinks. Hell, I’ll even dress up with you, whatever you want.”
“Hmm,” you hum, taking a second to tighten your ponytail as you shoot him a playful little smile, “Whatever I want, huh?” 
“Name it,” he says lowly, watching appreciatively as you get on all fours. 
“Okay, how about…,” you stall, drawing out your words as you extend your legs behind you, grunting softly as your shoulder zings with pain once more, “Willie and Indiana Jo– Ah!” You cut yourself off, exclaiming in pain as you land with a small thud on the mat, wincing. 
“Whoa, hey,” Billy says softly, scrambling onto his knees, brows furrowed as he gingerly helps you roll over onto your back, “You okay?”
You nod, glancing away with a little embarrassed huff as you rub at your shoulder. “Yeah, it’s nothing. I just probably sprained it earlier during practice or something.”
“Lemme take a look at it,” he says, offering a hand to help you up.
Not expecting such chivalrous behavior from Hargrove of all people, you only nod dumbly and let him pull you up off the mat, chest heaving.
“Here,” he murmurs, gently nudging at your arm until you turn your back to him. You can hear the tumbling mat crinkle as he steps closer to you, the warmth from his chest practically radiating through his t-shirt as the spicy musk of his cologne seems to envelope you once again. 
“You better not be using this as an excuse to feel me up,” you warn, albeit playfully, pulling your ponytail over the opposite shoulder. 
“In your dreams,” he teases, goosebumps peppering your skin from the low way he says your name and from the gentle brush of his fingers over the back of your arm as they trail their way up to your shoulder. 
He’s silent for a moment, carefully pressing warm, slightly rough fingers against your skin, watching until you wince just slightly when he pokes at your shoulder blade. “That’s where it hurts?” 
“Mhm,” you nod, lips parting ever so slightly as he kneads around the area. You can practically feel him smirking when you sigh a moment later, his fingers working perfectly over the sore muscle as his other hand anchors itself at your hip, “You’re… actually, like, really good at this,” you murmur with a little laugh, needing to find some way to break the silence. 
“My mom is – was, she was a masseuse, back when we lived in Cali,” Billy explains, leaning in closer, his lips all but brushing against your ear as he speaks softly, like he’s telling you some deep, dark secret, “I might’ve looked at one or two of her books.” 
“Really?” You ask, brows furrowing as you turn your head to look at him over your shoulder.
“Sue me, I was thirteen and they had nudes in ‘em,” he chuckles, biting into his bottom lip when your breathy laugh morphs into a moan when he presses just right against your shoulder. The fingers of his other hand tighten on your hip as he pulls you back against him, his lips just barely grazing over the crook of your neck, “But I still picked up a thing or two.”
“Clearly,” you breathe, brows tugging together as you tilt your head to the side, an open invitation. The blond doesn’t need any more convincing and you let your eyes flutter shut as his lips descend upon your neck, pressing hot kisses against the sensitive skin. 
The rise and fall of your chest grows shallow as the two of you seem to lose yourselves; you gasp as the hand on your hip trails down over your thigh, until Billy can drag the tips of his fingers beneath the white and gold hem of your pleated skirt just as the hand on your shoulder begins slowly moving around your ribs, to your front. Despite the AC units humming away, you can’t help but feel flush as he presses himself against you, already half-hard against the small of your back. 
With a gasp, you jerk away from him at the sound of a door opening and closing in the hallway, muffled voices and laughter filtering in through the closed doors of the gym. 
“Dammit,” Billy mumbles behind you as he quickly glances at the clock hanging above one of the exits, sighing disappointedly when he sees the time – fifteen minutes until practice. 
Deciding to finally give in to the wants you’ve been harboring for months, you grab one of his hands and playfully bite your lip, nodding to one of the sets of gym doors, “Follow me.” 
Smirking, he follows behind you as you quickly make your way to the doors, both of you pausing for a second to make sure the coast is clear before you bolt down the hallway. A second later, you’re pushing Billy through a door into a random classroom.
“This is the old Health room,” you explain, gasping as he turns and presses you against the old door, the metal of it cool against your back as you quickly scan over the empty room, dim other than the early evening light spilling in through the thin slats of the blinds, “No one ever comes in here.”
“Uh huh, fascinating,” he nods, turning his head to spit his gum into a small trash can by the door, before eagerly pressing his lips to yours. He smirks into the kiss as you mewl, his lips parting to quickly swallow the sweet sounds you make.  
Always one to give as good as you get, your lips move against his just as fervently, both of your hands trailing up underneath his t-shirt as you rub over his stomach, muscles taut under your touch. His tongue slips into your mouth in the same second he presses against you, his thin gym shorts doing nothing to conceal the hardness of his length as it presses against your lower stomach. 
You arch into his touch as his hands cup your breasts through your uniform, a low growl rumbling through his chest as you rake your nails over his chest and down his stomach. Boldly, you reach down and palm at his cock, savoring the surprised grunt he lets out before you quickly nudge your hand down the front of his shorts and into his boxers. 
“Shit,” he breathes, one hand still kneading at your breast as the other skates back up your thigh, his forehead resting against yours. Biting your lip, you watch through hooded eyes as you experimentally stroke over his cock, marveling at how hard he already is, like velvet over steel. 
Just as you feel him twitch in your grasp, the blond pulls away from you with a teasing grin and presses one last kiss against your lips before tapping the back of your thighs, urging you to jump. 
“Fuck, there you go,” Billy rasps, fingers digging into the curve of your ass as you clamber up into his arms, your shoulder only barely smarting as you wrap your arms around his neck. “I gotcha,” his muscular biceps flex as he quickly walks a few feet from the door and deposits on you on top of the, thankfully barren, teacher’s desk pushed haphazardly into the corner. 
“Billy,” you sigh, the sound being practically pushed from your lungs as he presses himself back between your thighs, cheer skirt rumbled around your waist as he all but folds you in half – your hands cling to his shirt desperately, one leg wrapped securely around his hip as the other ends up slung nearly over his shoulder.
“Yeah, princess?” He taunts with a wolfish grin, smirking at the way the muscles of your thigh twitch as his fingers move toward your pussy, hardly hidden beneath your boyshorts. You all but levitate off the desk as two of his fingers swipe over your slit, the apples of your cheeks flushing when he chuckles triumphantly, the thin cotton doing nothing to hide how wet you are. “Finally gonna give me what I want?”
You can feel your ponytail bobbing wildly at the crown of your head when you nod, a whiny moan blooming from your lips when he moves his fingers in tight circles against your clit, the flimsy material of your underwear quickly dampening against his touch. 
“Yeah, yeah, Billy,” your hands tremble as you pull at his t-shirt, desperate for what you’ve been wanting for so long, “C’mon, please!”
“Easy, tiger,” he laughs, tongue running over his bottom lip as he easily tugs his shirt over his head, your own hands scrambling to push down your boyshorts. Taking mercy on you yet again, he helps you, eagerly tugging the white cotton down your legs. He damn near tears them in two as he pushes your underwear over one sneaker, letting them dangle from your ankle. 
“Holy shit,” he breathes, crowding against you again as you lean back on the desk, propped up on your elbows. You stare up at him, lips parted, as he all but folds you in half, warm hands pressing against the backs of your thighs, “Fucking leaking and I’ve barely touched you.”
“Oh!” You hiss, trying your hardest to keep your voice down, head thudding back against the desk as Billy quickly tugs his shorts down, just enough to get his cock out, and teasingly runs it through your folds, “Billy, oh my God, just do it!” You all but beg, teeth biting into your bottom lip at the wet sounds of him moving against you, deafeningly loud in the otherwise quiet room. 
Were you anywhere else, Billy would have absolutely no qualms about teasing you to within an inch of your life – payback for playing cat and mouse with him for almost three months straight. Lucky for you, he’s just as nervous at the thought of getting caught with his pants down as you are, shuddering to think what Neil would do if he got expelled over this. 
With a barely contained growl, he pushes into you, his cock sliding easily to the hilt with how wet you are. Your back arches off the desk as he slides home, stretching you beautifully as he fills you completely.
“Oh – oh my God,” you breathe as he stills, giving you a few seconds to adjust. Your hands scramble over the smooth top of the desk before you grab onto his wrists as his hands hook behind your knees. 
“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groans – the way he grumbles your name makes your walls clench around his length, punching another grunt from his chest as he starts shallowly thrusting against you, grinding his hips against yours. 
The two of you dissolve into a flurry of breathy mewls and sighs, each of you desperately trying to keep quiet as the muffled sounds of skin against skin and the dull creaking of the desk fill the room. Your eyelids flutter as you watch Billy above you, golden curls bouncing with each of his thrusts as a light sheen of sweat covers his tanned chest. 
Grunting lowly, he presses harder against the backs of your thighs, practically pressing your kneecaps against the desk below you, blue eyes sparkling as you easily follow his movements. With the small change in angles, the head of his cock thrusts perfectly against that sensitive spot within you, and he grins triumphantly as you tremble beneath him. 
“That the spot, princess?” He questions, smirking when you nod your head with a little broken squeak, “Fuck, I can’t wait to get you in a bed – bet you can bend in all kinds of pretty ways, huh?”
“Y-Yeah, yeah, Billy,” you agree, willing to agree to just about anything as long as he keeps moving. You can hardly contain the moans spilling from your lips as he works you higher and higher, the adrenaline from the possibility of getting caught as well as the rush of finally having him making you rush toward your end faster than you normally would. 
Breathing heavily as your pussy clenches at his cock, he lets go of one of your thighs and shoves your shirt up, unceremoniously taking your bra with it. You bite at the back of one hand as he teases at your breasts, using one hand to pinch and pull at one nipple before moving to the other as he stares down at you with half-lidded eyes, brows furrowed in concentration. 
“O-Oh, my – fuck, I’m –” You moan brokenly, squirming beneath him as you feel yourself nearing the edge, teeth biting desperately into your bottom lip as you claw at his forearm and waist. 
Cockily licking over his lips, Billy leans forward as he grinds against you, his hips putting pressure on your clit as he covers your mouth with one hand, propping himself up against the desk with an elbow as his other still grasps at the back of your knee. 
You squeeze him tightly as the tail end of his happy trail rubs deliciously over you, giving you just enough stimulation to throw you over the edge. 
“Yeah, princess,” he encourages, grunting with nearly every thrust into you as he feels you clenching around him, pushing him further and further toward his own edge as he clenches his jaw, determined to hang on as long as possible. 
After only a few more thrusts, he quickly pulls out with a small groan. “Fuck, fuck,” he pants, chest heaving as he strokes his cock, painting your lower belly with stripes of his release.
Both of you still for a moment, breathing heavily as you each come down. Half expecting Billy to simply get dressed again and leave, you’re surprised when he softly kisses you, more relaxed this time, as his warm breath fans over your cheek. Dazedly, you kiss him back, your lips moving together unhurriedly as you card your fingers through the sweat-damp curls at the nape of his neck. 
After a moment, you part and your lips quirk up into a shy smile as he moves back half a step, giving you enough room to sit up. 
“Oh, uh,” you breathe, looking down when you feel his cum cooling against your skin. Glancing around the room, you pout a little when you don’t see any tissues or paper towels, “There’s paper towels in the locker room?” You offer, looking over at Billy, watching as he quickly tugs his shorts back into place. 
“I got it,” he says with a small smirk and before you have time to question what he means, he quickly tugs your underwear off your ankle and uses them to wipe at your skin, grinning meanly when you look up at him with wide eyes.
“Jackass!” You exclaim, laughing softly despite yourself, “That’s the only pair I have with me!”
“Nothing wrong with going commando, sweetness,” he says with a wink, chuckling when you wrinkle your nose at the thought while you pull your bra and shirt back into place, “Come back to my place and I’ll was ‘em for you, my parents don’t get back until late, anyway.” 
“You just want a round two,” you laugh, hopping off the desk and straightening out your skirt the best you can before running your hands over your hair, trying to smooth out your ponytail. 
“Told you I was gonna fold you up all pretty,” Billy smirks, crowding against you yet again once he tugs his shirt back on and lightly grasping at your jaw, “Something tells me you won’t have a problem with that either.”
“That’s presumptuous, don’t you think?” 
“Sure, yeah, I dunno what that means, princess,” he says, grinning when you laugh, your hands pressed against his chest as he quickly tucks your boyshorts into the waistband of his shorts, “Just come back to my place, hm?”
“What about basketball practice? Jason hates when people ditch.”
“You really think I give a shit about what Carver wants?” Billy laughs, taking one of your hands in his as he makes his way toward the door.
“Okay, okay, fine,” you finally agree, rolling your eyes playfully as you let him pull you out into the hall.
“And come with me to the Halloween party?”
“You have quite a list of demands, Hargrove.”
“Hey,” he says with a little shrug, glancing at you as you walk side by side toward the locker rooms, “That’s what you get for teasing me.”
You merely giggle as the two of you round a corner, nearly freezing and nervously glancing over at Billy when you come across Steve, chest heaving as he leans over a water fountain. 
Standing straight, he wipes at his lips with the back of his hand, narrowing his eyes at Billy, watching as he quickly scoops up his duffle bag from where he’d tossed it down earlier in the hallway. “Dude, why’re you leaving? You’re almost, like, half an hour late for practice.”
“Yeah, well, tell Carver something came up,” the blond boy huffs dismissively before taking your hand once more. You shoot a bashful smile at Steve, blushing as you and Billy walk toward the doors out to the parking lot. 
Behind you, Steve takes a minute to connect the dots, brows furrowing as he plants his hands on his hips. After a second, his eyes widen and he shakes his head. 
“Come on, at school?” He calls down the hallway, shaking his head as you and Billy laugh, “Fucking animals, man.”
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ssparksflyy · 2 months
Note
percy x zeus!gf hcs pls!!! and could i request it to be more on the funny side and how percy and zeus have beef but also get along cuz of gf
ask and thou shall receive ༉‧₊˚.
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percy jackson dating hcs ! ⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
pairing: percy jackson x daughter of zeus!reader warning(s): little bit of swearing a/n: hi! ty for requesting <3 im literally not funny but i hope u enjoy thissss! also theres a lotta taylor in this one 🤭
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BIG REPUTATION BIG REPUTATION OHHH YOU AND ME WE GOT BIG REPUTATIONS AHHH
it doesnt matter if ur a social butterfly or antisocial, everybody knew you and percy before you even started dating
so best believe when u actually got together, everybody ( literally ) cheered
but omg your flirting era had to be on of the most painful things to watch
seriously doesnt matter if u got game or not, percy is literally oblivious and a LOSERRRRR
im so sorry but somebody had to say it
bro had THE BIGGEST crush on you and whenever he'd try to like compliment you itd usually sound a little weird
tell me why he'd probably say something like
"i like your outfit today! that shirt for sure looks better with those jeans than it did with the shorts you wore 2 weeks ago :)"
lil creep
cue silena crying in the corner bcs she made a bet with beckendorf and it is NOT looking good for her right now
WE NEVER GO OUT OF STYLE.
u guys are iconic
like well-known power couple
I'D be scared to train with you guys cause like wdym i gotta go against the best swordsmen at camp and the daughter of the king of the gods?? no thank you, i choose life ♡
when people are asked to think of a couple, they immediately think of you guys
everybody loves you guys fr
if you ever broke up ( which you wont, percy would probs just say "no" ) itd probably leave everybody super torn
BROOOO ITD BE LIKE IN GILMORE GIRLS WHEN LORELAI AND LUKE BROKE UP AND THE WHOLE TOWN LIKE TOOK SIDES
if you havent watched gilmore girls, that basically sums the situation up. lorelai is literally like the town's sweetheart and luke is the owner of the most popular diner in their small town ♡ very cutesy
so sorry for the spoiler
SALLY LOVESSS YOU
she's literally so sweet and treats you as if you were her own child
she'd definitely bake cookies when you first meet and if you liked them, you best believe you are being sent back to camp with a baggie full of cookies
yk what percy time
your literally his queen
( sorry i say literally a lot )
he treats you like royaltyyyyy
always opening doors for you, walks you everywhere, follows the sidewalk rule, everything ♡
when its raining, he picks you up bridal style and takes you wherever you need to go, so you dont get your shoes wet ♡♡
yall literally live in the rain tho
neither of you leave your cabin with an umbrella, the rain just gives you life
AND I DONT KNOW WHY BUT WITH YOU ID DANCE IN A STORM IN MY BEST DRESS FEARLESS
one time, you went out for a fancy dinner, got dressed up all nice very fancy very fancy
BUT you BOTH forgot to check the weather
and it ended up POURING rain by the time you got out of the restaurant
and i kid you not
percy just grabs you by the hand, leads you out into the rain, and begins to dance with you.
no coverage, no music, no fucks given. just him and his girl.
he treasures that moment forever and ever
all the gods looked down at you from olympus and melted
neither of you care if you're disrespecting your fathers, you spend almost every night together ♡
percy is absolutely a big cuddler
literally just adores the feeling of you close to him
oh lord save him his drug is his baby he'll be using for the rest of his life
falling asleep together is so easy, you just melt into each other's touch
waking up is what's harder
neither of you want to leave the bed, and neither of you want the other person to leave the bed either.
percy's the typa guy to just have a sweet little conversation with you before he gets up for the day
you always get a good morning ( and a good night! ), then percy asks you what's on your schedule for the day ( as if he hasn't memorized it by now ), and what you wanted for breakfast that morning
he simply cannot get up without it
he's also the typa guy to just whisper sweet nothings into your ear if he wakes up before you ♡
he just goes on a little ramble about how pretty you look when your sleeping, even though you are sleeping while he's 'talking' to you
sorry where was i?
ZEUS.
the bastrard HATES percy and percy HATES the bastard
theyve literally been beefing since he was 12 years old
so best believe when zeus found out his daughter was dating this mf son of poseidon, oo he was MAAAADDDDD
poseidon is literally so chill with you. like he just cares that percy is happy
zeus holds back everything in him to not kill percy on the spot every time you make out
he doesn't do it because he knows you'd probably walk to the underworld to get him back and hades would go feral if he got another orpheus & eurydice
percy gives zero fucks. he flips off the sky every time he walks outside
percy is so sweet and caring and kind and shows ur father such respect like hes literally an angel 😇😇
i wouldn't say that he starts like actually respecting him, but he tries not to offend him as often as usual, just for you ♡
in the scenario that you'd have to make a trip to olympus, percy and zeus put on their big boy pants and try to tolerate each other
hera dont like you or percy bro she's literally just there
its ok tho, you both despise her for kidnapping percy and wiping his memory ♡♡♡
JASON AND THALIA HOWEVER
thalia would definitely be the dramatic dad that zeus cant be (in person, at least)
whenever she and the hunters stay at camp she ( jokingly ) tells percy
"jackson, i want her home by NINE PEE EM. no later. i expect you won't be drinking, and you will be TAKING CARE OF HER. in the instance that i hear you DONT, i think you'll be taking a second trip across the river styx, you hear me?"
in like an old man voice and everything
percy plays along with it and salutes her going "yes ma'am!"
jason thinks yall are so cute together
since you were together before the whole switcheroo thingy, jason knew you first, and you were instantly best buddies
you told him about percy, and once he met him, he was happy to find out he was exactly like you described him
jason and thalia are ur #1 supporters ♡
in summary, alexa play that should be me
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a/n pt.2: hihi! hope you enjoyed thatttt <3 i had sm fun writing these teehee, have a good day/night!
peace from manhattan,
percy jackson
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girlgenius1111 · 3 months
Text
shining just for you
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alexia + barça & putellas!reader
r only gets worse. alexia gets frustrated. a much needed conversation is attempted.
-----
Your meeting with the trainers at Barça the next day did not go at all how you hoped. They had squashed all of your attempts to suggest faster ways to move your recovery along. They kept saying that there was no way to heal broken bones faster, and when you asked if you had to wait until they were fully healed to get back on the pitch, they looked at you like you'd lost your mind. Maybe you had.
The part that really pissed you off was that they said you could absolutely not bear any weight on your ankle for at least the first month. That meant at least 1 month of crutches, and of staying at Alexia's because you couldn't climb the stairs to your apartment. It seemed ridiculous to you; you had the moon boot on, of course you could walk on it.
It was with this in mind that you exited the medical center, crutching back over to the main training building. You were supposed to go find your sister in the gym and update her on what the physios had said, but you found that you weren't really in the mood. You didn't need to hear her upbeat spin on this. You knew you would cry, and you didn't need to see the disappointed look on her face when she realized how truly weak you really were.
This was all so idiotic. Your ankle didn't even hurt that much. How bad could the break be, really? You'd seen the x-rays, sure, but it hadn't look that bad. It was a true testament to how little you cared for your body at this point, as you dropped your crutches inside the locker room, and began pacing the hallway just outside. No one was around to see, which you were glad for, because they'd stop you.
You had a point to prove, though. Even as each step was excruciating, you pushed on, pacing until you felt like you were going to throw up from the pain. It made you dizzy, and you leaned against the wall, sliding down it to sit. You were in the middle of the hall, your crutches 10 meters away. Your head spun, your ankle killed, and you felt a moment of clarity.
What were you doing? This, of all things, was not going to speed up the healing process. Were you really so unbelievably stupid to walk on a completely broken ankle, just because you weren't willing to accept 4 months off the pitch?
You felt completely worthless. You couldn't even be injured right. And now, you would have to wait here for your teammates to return from training, until they would find you, face pale and tearstained. You couldn't get up without help. You desperately tried to think of an excuse, some reason that you would be in the middle of the hall without your crutches.
Before one could come to you, though, you heard your name shouted from the direction of the gym. It was the last person you wanted to hear from, last person you wanted to see. At the same time, a part of you pleaded with yourself to allow you to fall into your sister's arms, let her hold you together when you couldn't do it yourself.
You'd done that last night. It hadn't made you feel better. So, instead, you looked up to meet the shocked face of your sister, a defiant look etching itself across your features. When in doubt, anger seemed to be the way you went.
"What the hell are you doing?" Alexia asked, crouching down in front of you. She reached a hand out, feeling your face, which you knew must be hot. Your whole body felt like it was on fire, your foot and ankle most of all.
"I was just walking." You said shortly.
Alexia's eyebrows raised. "Just walking? Without your crutches? Did the doctor tell you that was okay?"
You looked away from her, clenching your jaw tight.
"Hey! Did the doctor tell you that was okay?" Alexia repeated, forcing you to look back at her.
"No." You admitted, knowing Alexia would check either way.
Alexia' face grew very red, and she opened her mouth to start talking several times, before she shook her head, and stalked off to the locker room. She returned shortly after with your crutches, wordlessly handing them out to you.
"We're going home." She said. You allowed her to help you to your feet, waiting until you were standing to argue.
"No, Ale you have training, I can-"
"No. You can't just wait for me, clearly. You aren't responsible enough for me to leave you on your own while you have a broken ankle. I don't know what you're thinking, I don't know what is going on with you right now, but you need to cut it out and pull it together. This is not how I taught you to act. Acting like you know better than the doctors and the physios, doing whatever the hell you want."
Alexia was seething, clearly. Completely and totally furious with you. And even though you knew she was right, you couldn't help but feel a surge of anger inside of yourself. You were just trying to be what she asked of you, and now she was mad at you for it?
"Alexia, I don't need a fucking lecture from you right now. Just go back to training, I'll wait in the locker room."
"Do not walk away from me." Alexia scowled, grabbing your wrist to stop you. "Are you really so ungrateful of everything I've done for you, that you're willing to throw it all away by completely fucking your ankle? Because 4 months seems like a long time to be away from the pitch? It's time to grow up. An injury is not the end of the world, and you have to stop moping around and trying to find the easy way out of this."
"Oh right, because you didn't do any moping when you did your ACL. Yeah, Alexia, you were the picture of strength and stability then, weren't you?" You sneered, wrenching your hand out of her grip.
Alexia clenched her hands into fists, and released them, as if she was trying to calm herself down. "You are so immature," She started, taking a step closer to you.
"Hey!" Irene shouted from down the hall. The team was filtering in from training, and a bunch of the younger players had stopped dead in their tracks, watching the argument unfold. Irene and Marta pushed their way through, stepping in between the two of you.
"Alexia, walk away." Marta instructed.
"She was-"
"-Deal with it later. Walk away now, before you say something you regret." Marta interrupted, guiding Alexia back to the gym she'd come from.
It was too late. Both of you had already said things you now regretted. Alexia was angry, as she walked away. But you were devastated, beyond words. It was like Alexia had agreed with every awful thought you had about yourself. It wasn't intentional from her, she was just upset that you were so careless with yourself. She hadn't meant any of it, just like she knew you hadn't meant what you said to her.
Irene watched carefully as you leaned backwards against the wall, lip wobbling dangerously. "Come on, pequeña. Let's go somewhere else."
"I want to go home." You mumbled, shrugging out from under Irene's hand. You were practically shaking at the effort it was taking you not to fall apart completely.
"Your sister drove you?” Irene asked. You nodded, jaw tightening. "Okay, go wait in the car. Ale will come take you home when she's calmer."
You didn't have much choice, so you nodded, crutching down the hall, away from your onlooking teammates, past where Alexia stood, talking in hushed tones with Marta, out the door and into the car.
You didn't want to go home, not really. Not to your apartment, or to Alexia's. Not even to your mom's house. You didn't want to do anything, or be anywhere. You were so exhausted, so hurt. You just wanted it all to stop.
You were strong, you reminded yourself. You were strong enough not to break. You made it to the car, slumping into the passenger seat and allowing yourself to take a few ragged breaths. You were fine. Everything was fine. You just needed to get home, and into bed, where you could cry and no one would hear.
Alexia joined you in the car 10 minutes later, but the way she threw the car in reverse and backed out of the spot without so much as a glance towards you told you that she was still mad. Well, so were you.
-----
Alexia helped you in through the front door, holding tight to the back of your shirt as you crutched inside, like you were going to somehow run away from her.
"What happened?" Olga asked, taking in the stormy expressions on both you and your sister's faces.
"Pequeña thinks she knows better than the doctors, and decided to dump her crutches and walk without them." Alexia said shortly, all but shoving you down onto the couch. "Stay there." She directed, stomping off into the kitchen to get you some ice.
Olga watched her go, before slowly turning to you. She walked over to the couch, where you were sitting, glaring at the table in front of you. Inspecting you closely, Olga sighed deeply, before speaking.
"She said something, didn't she? Something she shouldn't have?" That was the only logical explanation Olga could reach; under Alexia's fury, her girlfriend knew she felt guilty. And the look on your face, one also of anger, was hiding how upset you really were.
You didn't answer her, but your arms crossed over your chest, and you blinked rapidly, clearly fighting off tears. Olga pulled out her phone, shooting off a text, before rising to intercept Alexia as she re entered the living room. Olga steered her into the chair opposite you, taking the ice pack and handing it to you.
"Your mom is going to call in a few minutes, alright? And whatever is going on here, you're going to figure it out."
"Alba's coming to get me. I'm going to stay with her." You said quietly, picking at your nails to avoid looking at your sister. She looked absolutely crestfallen. Then, her expression tightened, and her defensive exterior returned.
"You are not going anywhere. Tell Alba to turn around and go home."
"No. I can go where I want." You seethed, finally looking up at her. She was surprised by the fire in your eyes, the anger practically radiating off of you. Alexia opened her mouth, prepared to respond, but Olga stepped in between the two of you, once again cooling the incoming conflict.
"Alexia, go take a walk."
Alexia was really tired of people telling her to take a walk. She wanted to deal with this, now. She wanted to take you by the shoulders and shake you, beg you to tell her why you were so upset.
"No, I-"
"Go. While you're gone, your sister is going to talk to your mom, and then you two can sit down and have a conversation like adults. Nena, tell Alba not to come yet. If you still want to leave after dinner, fine, but don't make a rash decision when you're already upset."
You both respected Olga too much to really argue with her. Alexia marched out the door, barely stopping to get her keys, while you begrudgingly pulled your phone out, texting Alba. Once you'd done that, the phone rang in your hands, and you answered, the soothing, comforting voice of your mother filling your ears.
-----
When Alexia came back 20 minutes later, she was much calmer, and prepared to apologize to you, even if it felt like she was ripping one of her limbs off every time she had to tell you she was sorry about something.
You were calmer too, sitting on the couch and talking quietly with your mom. You didn't look at Alexia when she walked in, but you didn't tell her to go away, either, even when she came and sat on the couch next to you.
"Ale's here." You said, turning on speaker phone.
"Alexia Putellas Segura." Her mother's scolding made her flinch, even over the phone. "You be nice to your sister, and you stop pushing her so hard before she breaks."
The first part made sense to her. The second, not so much. She was TRYING to get you to slow down, and listen to the doctors. How was that pushing you? The way you flushed red, and looked away from her only confused Alexia more. She didn't quite feel like arguing with her mother, though, not after the day she'd had.
"Okay, mom." Alexia promised, looking pointedly at you.
"And y/n. You listen to your sister. And you start taking care of yourself. No one will love you any less if you heal in 4 months, or 6 months, or a year. Don't you make me fly back there."
The funny thing was, you hadn't even told your mom what was going on with you. She just knew, from only a few minutes talking to you, what was wrong, and exactly what you needed to hear. You didn't really need to hear it from her, though; you needed your sister to say it, more than anything. At the same time, you'd never admit that.
"Okay mom." You said, echoing your sister's previous words.
With that, she warned you both to behave, before hanging up.
Alexia poked you in the side, having grown very tired of fighting with you. "She's right. You should listen to me. You'll only need more than 4 months if I break your other ankle, though."
Her attempt at making a joke fell flat, and she watched you tense up next to her. Until that point, she thought that what her mother had said to you was common sense; of course they'd love you if you didn't heal fast. Why would you possibly think otherwise. Alexia was starting to notice, though, that whenever the time frame of your injury was brought up, you looked like you were going to be sick. She opened her mouth, prepared to call you on it, when Olga cleared her throat from the doorway.
"It's Alba, and it's for you." She said, holding the phone out towards Alexia. With one last look in your direction, the blonde rose, grabbing the phone out of her girlfriends hand, instructing her to keep an eye on you, and heading into the bedroom.
"Are you the biggest idiot in the world?" Alba chided, a rather unusual tone of voice for the normally very silly sister to be taking.
"Hi, Alba. I'm fine, thank you for asking."
"Cut the shit, Alexia, seriously. What were you thinking?"
"It would make this phone call so much more fun if you would explain what the hell you're talking about." Alexia threw back, flopping down onto her bed. Honestly, the pair of you. She wished her mother was in town so she didn't have to deal with you both every second of every day.
"Calling our sister irresponsible and ungrateful? Do you not see how much she's struggling?"
Alexia scowled, annoyed that you told on her. "She was being an idiot. And I am not blind, I know she's having a hard time. I'm trying to help, but she won't let me."
"How are you trying to help?" Alba asked, softening just slightly at the frustration in her older sister's tone.
"I keep telling her she'll be back in no time, that 4 months is not a concrete timeframe, and that she's strong. I know she can do it, and she knows too. I don't understand what's wrong with her."
"Alexia." Alba sighed. "Everything you just said is horrible. Not at all what she needs to hear from you right now."
"How?! I'm being encouraging."
"No, you're putting even more pressure on her."
"Why does everyone keep saying that? I don't put pressure on her, definitely not more than she can take."
"Ale, she's not taking it. She's falling apart."
"Oh, and that's my fault? If she has a problem, she should communicate it to me like an adult. I'm tired of her acting like a child." Alexia wasn't mad at you, not really. She was angry with herself, for not seeing whatever was going on sooner. For making you so upset with her. She used to fight the other kids when they made you cry, and now she was the reason you were valiantly fighting back tears, and she didn't even know why.
Alba spoke up then, after a moment of silence. "You need to talk to her. You're not going to listen to me. I hope you listen to her. And, Ale? She's only 20. She's doing her best, cut her some slack."
Alba hung up before Alexia could respond. She groaned, tossing her phone off the bed, before walking back out towards the living room. She froze, hearing you talking to her girlfriend through tears.
"I can't Olga, she'd be so disappointed in me."
"No, pequeña, she won't. I know you feel like she cares more about your football than you, but I promise, cariño, that is not true. She doesn't know you feel this way, and she needs to. So she can prove to you that you're wrong."
"What if I'm not wrong? What if she hates me?" You cried.
Alexia couldn't hold herself back any longer, practically falling into the room with how fast she moved to get to you. She didn't try to pretend she hadn't been eavesdropping. She simply took the seat Olga stood from, sitting down carefully next to you.
You looked up at her, a horrified look on your face at the realization that she'd heard everything you'd just said.
"Talk to me, nena. Please." Alexia was practically begging you.
The conflict was clear on your face; Alexia watched as you debated whether to shake her off and leave the room, or to finally tell her what was going on. It was breaking her heart, that you didn't immediately trust her. She knew she'd messed up today, but whatever was going on clearly ran so much deeper; she must have messed up a long, long time ago.
When you opened your mouth to answer her, Alexia wasn't sure if your words would fracture the relationship further, a relationship that was already sitting precariously, even if she hadn't noticed it, or if you were going to let her in. You weren't quite sure either.
-----
feeling CRUEL today. it is Friday though, so if everyone is extra nice to me, MAYBE you'll get part 3 later tonight. Maybe.
477 notes · View notes
lazycats-stuff · 3 months
Note
(Kind of self projecting sorry lol) SO! BabyBat has an upset stomach but Bruce's too anxious about giving him medicine because can his baby stomach handle those chemicals? Insert Alfred rolling up his sleeves "give him here master Bruce" a tired Bruce just hands him over without question and watches as alfred and baby head to the kitchen and suddenly...baby stopped crying? Bruce walks into the kitchen seeing flower stems on the counter and Alfred standing there with a sleeping baby "...How?" "Rosewater master Bruce, i made and fed him Rosewater" Not sure how to end this but basically BabyBat would only drink Rosewater from now on and Bruce has to upgrade his gardening game ,Alfred always has already-made Rosewater so his Grandson is always hydrated and the rest of batbros are just like "hell yeah my brother's too fancy for regular water" I hope you except my request and thank u! I love u
Oh no, I hope you are doing better now. Either way, this is an Alfred thing to do. Thank you for the love too.❤️
Summary: Alfred knows what to do.
Warnings: Alfred knows what to do, Bruce is tired, boys love their brother, but they want peace, fluff all in all.
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Taking care of a baby is difficult, even for Alfred. Bruce and him had joined forces for (Y/N). The boys have also agreed to help whenever they could. It was exhausting to take care of a little baby. Bruce and Alfred were sleep deprived at this point and the boys took care of their little brother while the two recovered slightly.
It felt nice to have a presence of a baby here, despite the chaos that a baby brings. (Y/N) was an easy baby as long there was a routine for him. Feed him on time, change his diaper regularly, put him down for a nap on time...
All of the basics essentially.
Oh, not to forget, (Y/N) was often held in someone's arms. Whether it be Damian's, Dick's, Jason's or Tim's, (Y/N) was happy to be in their arms. Bruce was (Y/N)'s favorite none the less. Who wouldn't love being held by their father?
But, it seems that (Y/N) had medical problems. Bruce took him to the pediatrician to see what's going on. It seems that it was (Y/N)'s stomach and Bruce got some medication for it, but he was worried. Bruce believed in medicine, don't get me wrong, but... Will (Y/N)'s poor tummy will be able to handle it?
Bruce has tried everything he could to soothe his son, his anxiety preventing him from giving him the meds. How can he know that the chemicals won't make it worst? Again, he believes in modern medicine, but his baby is...
He doesn't want to hurt his son more. Alfred and everyone else tried to help, but (Y/N) was just in too much pain to even think about calming down for a single second. Jason was sure that (Y/N)'s voice will be lost in a few more hours and Damian wanted to die.
Dick and Tim tried, but nothing worked. At all. Nothing. Tim was exhausted and Dick was going to snap soon. Very much soon. Damian and Titus were out of the manor for these couple of hours and Jason went to the Batcave.
Alfred, all of a sudden got an idea. Going to the garden, he got some roses and has decided to make some rosewater for (Y/N). He cleaned the flowers in the kitchen and then put the in a pot before submerging the petals underneath the water. He put it on low heat and let it simmer for now. He put a lid over it and sighed as he heard (Y/N) crying.
He waited and checked on the petals and smiled when he saw that the petals lost color. He turned the heat off and moved the pot away, allowing it to cool down completely. (Y/N) can't drink hot water. And it would be a nice alternative to the medicine that Bruce is so anxious about giving to (Y/N). The worry is understandable, babies are more fragile than toddlers and older kids so giving them harsh medicine is not a good idea.
Alfred turned on the radio and removed the lid from the pot. He could hear Bruce's voice trying to shush his son, but (Y/N) was still crying from the pain. Alfred waited patiently as he poured himself some whiskey.
Did he love his grandson more than life? Yes, but sometimes, alcohol was important to soothe the headache the crying might have caused. He slowly sipped his whiskey as he waited for the water to cool down. Jason and Damian came down to eat something and Alfred pointed at the leftovers in the fridge.
" What's in the pot Alfred? " Damian asked as the took a container of food to heat it up.
" You'll see soon. I'm just waiting for it to cool down. "
" Is it for (Y/N)? " Jason asked as he looked at the food in the fridge. " Please tell me it's for him.
" It is. " Alfred said and took another sip of his whiskey. Damian and Jason sighed in relief.
" Thank God. " Damian said as he started heating up his food. Jason smiled as he waited for his turn.
" What's in the pot though? " Jason asked as he peered over to look at the pot.
" Some rose water. It's great for the stomach. " Alfred explained and Jason nodded as he looked down to look at the water more intently.
" Since when do we have roses in the garden? " Jason asked as he started heating his own food up and Damian sat down and started eating his food.
" Since forever master Jason. " Alfred said as he finished his whiskey.
Jason nodded and took his food out of the microwave and started eating.
After 20 minutes, the water has cooled down and Jason and Damian have left the kitchen. Alfred rolled up his sleeves and went to the living room, with Bruce still soothing his son. Bruce was tired and Alfred was sure that Bruce's ears were going to start bleeding in a few minutes.
" Hand him over master Bruce. " Alfred said and Bruce gladly gave (Y/N) to Alfred and he just closed his eyes and relaxed, the sound of (Y/N) crying moving further away from him. He kept them closed until there was silence.
Why was there silence?
Bruce opened his eyes and went into the kitchen where he found Alfred, with a sleeping (Y/N) in his arms. How the hell was (Y/N) sleeping?
" Alfred? What did you do? " Bruce asked as he looked around. Why were on the counter stems... Were those rose stems? Alfred chuckled at the confusion that Bruce was exhibiting.
" Rosewater master Bruce. " Alfred said, giving him a very short answer.
Bruce was still confused and Alfred chuckled once more. " I fed him some rosewater. " Alfred explained and Bruce nodded. Whatever it was, it helped (Y/N) out and Bruce wasn't going to question it at all.
" Huh. Thank God for the rosewater I guess. "
" Yes, it's a more natural remedy. I know you were anxious about giving the medicine to master (Y/N), so I remembered this recipe. "
" Alfred, did I ever tell you that you are the most important member of the family? " Bruce asked as he walked closer to his beloved son, caressing his little cheek.
" All the time master Bruce. "
" Good. " Bruce said as he leaned down to kiss (Y/N)'s head and the little boy slowly reached for his father. Bruce took him into his arms and allowed him to rest in his arms.
Dick and Tim popped their hands in happy and relieved that their brother was not in pain anymore. And that he wasn't ruining their hearing anymore.
" Is he okay? " Tim asked quietly and Alfred nodded. Dick sighed in relief and put a hand over his heart.
" Thank God. It's nice to have a silent manor for once. " Dick joked and everyone chuckled. That much was true.
" Well, it's great that our brother is not in pain anymore. " Tim said and walked closer to his baby brother, just observing him.
" Thank you Alfred. " Dick said and Alfre laughed. Bruce rolled his eyes with a fond smile.
After the discovery of rose water, (Y/N) refused to drink anything else. Thankfully, Alfred started feeding him some solid foods so he wasn't going to be hungry. But it was funny the first time (Y/N) refused to drink anything that wasn't rosewater.
Bruce was confused, but Alfred already had batches of water prepared for his grandson. (Y/N) needs to be hydrated. Bruce sighed as he drank his coffee, looking at the garden outside. He needed to call a gardener to plant more roses in the garden...
He glanced back at his son who was happily drinking his water, with Alfred holding the bottle.
The four older brothers walked in for breakfast and they all laughed.
" (Y/N) is so fancy. " Tim said laughing as he made his way to the coffee pot and the cereal cabinet.
" More than you B. " Dick joked and Bruce rolled his eyes with a smile.
" Yes, (Y/N) is a true Wayne. All Waynes are fancy in their own right. " Damian confirmed and Bruce just kept smiling at the banter that was going on here.
" You do know that you have up your gardening skills, right old man? " Jason teased and laughed behind his coffee mug. (Y/N) really did bring everyone together.
" I'll call the gardener the moment I'm in office. " Bruce declared and everyone nodded and started eating in peace. This is a very nice and calm morning for their standards.
" Is it just me or (Y/N) brought us all together? " Jason asked and everyone paused for a moment.
" You are right. " Dick said first and everyone followed with either nods or soft murmurs of agreement.
Jason walked up to Alfred and (Y/N) who finished his bottle of rosewater and picked his brother up in his arms. " My little brother is so fancy. " Jason said as he rocked his little brother, who in turn was shrieking with laughter.
Everyone smiled even more. This morning is really nice. And (Y/N) is a glue that keeps this family close and together.
406 notes · View notes
reiding-writing · 1 month
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congrats on 1k followers!!! u deserve it sm u're literally my favorite cm writer on here <333
i'd like to request spencer/cold!reader with 4 from blue (color prompts)
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TRYPANOPHOBIA [CLIMACTERIC]
/ˌtaɪpənəˈfoʊbiə/
4. "Will you hold my hand?”
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WARNINGS: fem!reader, needles, suturing, allusion to spencer’s past addiction, blood, reader injury
spencer x cold!reader | hurt/comfort | 1.6k | climacteric event
a/n: thank you <3333 made the quote a little more blunt bc yk, cold reader, but i think it works either way. cold!reader is slowly developing her own lore and i’m living for it honestly.
main masterlist! ⋆。°✩ cold!reader masterlist!
⋆。°✩ event masterlist! ✩°。⋆
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You’d consider yourself pretty strong, mentally and physically.
You’d had your fair share of bumps and scrapes in your job that’s left you in the temporary care of EMTs sat in the back of an open ambulance. You’d been hit, kicked, slashed, shot at, and basically every other thing that you could possibly think of.
And it always came out alright in the end.
Most of the time the paramedics didn’t have to do more than clean out your injury with an antiseptic wipe and send you on your way.
But your luck had to run out eventually.
You’d garnered yourself a pretty nasty gash on your left bicep, one that the paramedic said would probably scar even with stitches.
Of course it would.
Either way, he seated you down on the edge of the open ambulance prepped your arm in the hopes that having it stitched closed would at least minimise the mark left behind. But it was never going to be that easy.
Morgan nudged Spencer’s arm with his elbow, nodding his head over to where you were sat on the edge of the ambulance with a very firm look on your face as you shake your head at the paramedic in front of you, who is seemingly trying to explain something that you’re not listening to. “Something tells me the Ice Queen might want some backup,”
“She told me to leave her alone,” Spencer shrugs slightly through furrowed eyebrows, eyes fixed on you despite the fact that he’s talking to Morgan.
He was the one who pointed the gash out to you in the first place. He knew that you had a high pain tolerance, but to not at all notice the blood trailing down your arm— even with the adrenaline in your system —was absolutely insane to him.
You tried for almost two minutes to brush him off, but he managed to convince you to get check out by the ambulance eventually. Even if it did result in him being on the receiving end of one of your disgruntled glares.
He’d rather that than you getting an infection.
“Come on man she’s clearly not enjoying herself over there,” Morgan tilted his head at Spencer with a knowing look. “Go and do your thing before she gives the poor guy a heart attack,”
Spencer doesn’t really have an option as Morgan pushes his shoulder in your direction, sending him stumbling a few steps forward.
“I said no.”
“Please miss it’s to make you more comfortable-”
“You are not putting that in my arm.”
“Is everything okay over here?” Spencer furrows his eyebrows, catching the tail end of your argument with the paramedic as he approaches you. “Are you alright?”
“I would be if this fucking-“ You exhale heavily through your nose to compose yourself.
It’s not his fault. He’s trying to help you. Don’t think about smashing his face into the tarmac.
“I don’t see why you need to stick me for a strip of butterfly stitches.” Your eyes are cold and unwavering as you glare right into the paramedic’s soul, and Spencer can see him take a small step backwards to steady himself under your scrutiny.
“I told you miss, butterfly stitches aren’t viable for your injury, they wouldn’t hold. You’ll have to have traditional sutures,” The paramedic argues his point hesitantly, but Spencer is surprised he’s even managing to argue in the first place with how harsh your expression is.
“Getting stitches for a serious injury can reduce the risk of infection by up to 86%,” Spencer takes a seat at your side cautiously, his eyes soft and non-confrontational as he tries to mediate your seething refusal to the idea of getting your injury stitched.
It looked bad. Something that he’s sure most people probably would’ve passed out from under the combination of pain and the fountain of red spurting from inside it.
“You need to get it treated…”
“I don’t do needles. It isn’t going to happen.” You don’t look at Spencer as you voice your reason for refusing medical attention, but you don’t have to, he can practically feel the anxiety radiating from you the second the possibility leaves your mouth.
You had a fear of needles.
Now that was something he never expected from you.
To be honest he was under the general impression that you weren’t afraid of anything. Especially not needles.
But he couldn’t exactly blame you either.
He also hated needles, although he was sure his reasoning was different from yours.
Either way, he knew what the anxiety felt like. But it didn’t change the fact that you needed stitches. That gash wasn’t going to heal on it’s own.
“Hey, uh,” Spencer bit the inside of his cheek as he spoke to you, glancing between the back of your head and the paramedic stood with an anaesthetic needle in hand, expression furrowed with no idea of how to convince you into letting him do his job. “There are several methods for effectively dealing with phobias during situations like this, I can walk you through one if you’d like?”
“I’m not getting a needle in my arm, let alone multiple.” You turn your sternness in your decision towards Spencer for the first time, and he almost folds immediately under the harshness of your glare. But he doesn’t, and his resistance to your defences is beginning to become increasingly torturously frustrating.
“The best first step is to turn away from the area of insertion,” Spencer moves his gaze from you to the paramedic and gives him a small, almost imperceptible nod to move forward. “Then you should focus on finding a suitable breathing pattern,”
“Reid I’m not-” There’s a sharp sting in your left shoulder that cuts your sentence short, and your eyebrows furrow and then rise in a mix of pain and shock as you turn your head just in time to see the top of the now empty needle leave your arm.
“Distraction is usually the easiest option…”
You turn to look at Spencer again with a look of absolute betrayal on your face, your eyes narrowed so far that it almost looks like your scleras are blackened through only your pupils being visible. You open your mouth to say something, but nothing except an astonished breath leaves your mouth.
“I’m sorry…” Spencer presses his lips together with a guilty expression. He couldn’t quite determine whether you wanted to shout at him or cry, and it was one of those times where he was reminded that you were a real person with real emotions underneath the wall of ice you protect yourself with. “It’s really in your best interest I promise,”
The paramedic gives you a guilty look of his own as he returns with a suturing needle attached to some thread. “You won’t feel anything I promise, just keep your eyes on your friend alright?”
“I am so going to kick your ass for this.” You turn your head as far away from the paramedic as possible as you reluctantly accept your fate, hissing your words out through your teeth as you face Spencer directly.
“I know,” Spencer gives you a small nod, guilt still riddling his features as he sighs. “I’m sorry,”
“Hold my hand.” You extend your right hand out towards him, palm upwards expectantly.
“I- what?” Spencer stares at it like he’s never seen a hand before in his life.
“You’re putting me through this, it’s the least you can do.”
He slips his hand into yours cautiously, your grip immediately tightening to a point where your knuckles clash together almost uncomfortably and his palm bumps into yours.
It’s enough to make his cheeks bloom red and his throat go dry, and yet you seem entirely unaffected apart from the tenseness in your shoulders in the anticipation of feeling the suturing needle in your arm.
It doesn’t come.
“All finished. Keep them dry for the next week or so and they should dissolve on their own,” Your eyebrows furrow as you break your stare on Spencer to look back towards the paramedic and then down to your arm. He’d literally stitched it shut without you feeling anything.
“…Thank you,” You still look absolutely furious, anger still coating your words, but you’re thankful nonetheless, and the paramedic gives you a short smile.
“Thank your friend, he did the hard work,” He gestures towards Spencer with a nod before leaving the two of you to regroup with the rest of the EMTs.
You watch the paramedic walk away for a few seconds before you turn your attention back to Spencer, and his eyes are already locked on you as you meet his eyes.
“Are you- uh- ready to go back to the station?”
You give him a short nod as you stand, inadvertently pulling him to his feet alongside you through your still connected hands.
They stay that way as you reapproach the rest of the team, and none of them have the gall to mention it under the lingering discomfort in your narrowed gaze as Spencer helps you into the car.
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alexiapp · 3 months
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Make Time
Alexia Putellas x Reader
Warnings: Angst, light swearing words, talks of infidelity
summary: Your relationship has met an all time low.
no part 2.
side note: I kinda wrote this half asleep, so i wouldn’t doubt if this is shit and it might be a little corny but😭 I’ve been gone for a while i just needed a little mental health break but i’m back now !! i missed you all
————————————-
You were on edge, you have completely lost yourself. You were a drowning mess of emotions.
You were struggling, mentally mostly.
The hardest part to grasp was that you were doing this all alone.
It seemed like your relationship was straining, like it was on its last thread and it had finally snapped. Alexia never seemed to be there, You understood that she had such a consistent schedule, but there was only so much you could take.
It started off with her coming home late, it bugged you.. badly. You knew it was just Alexia being Alexia..pushing herself and others and going above and beyond. You wanted to see her thrive and succeed in her career but it was hard to contain your feelings when all you wanted was her.
All you ever wanted was a partner to be there for you, to guide you, and help you through times like this.
You felt like a burden in her eyes..
You wish Alexia was there at night to help you through tuff evenings like these, to hold you and tell you that it was going to be okay…that you two were going to be okay.
Things only got worse when Alexia started skipping out on important things you planned.
You planned a special dinner between the two of you, to celebrate your anniversary of 3 years of you to being together. This brewed up a storm between you guys relationship dynamic, which you doubted the older woman even recognized.
Your last straw was when You realized Alexia couldn’t pull through when you asked for support in a situation.
You were having a special dinner regarding your job, you begged and begged alexia to show up for support.
“Alexia, please i know i’ve spoke about it a bunch of times but i really need you to be there, this is very important to me” You said with high emotions.
“I know cariño you’ve spoke about this plenty of times i hear you” Alexia said with a tired expression.
“Thank you, love. I appreciate it” You said walking over to hug the taller woman.
“no hay problema, amor” She said bringing one hand to wrapping around your body embracing you and kissing your head, as a deep sigh left her mouth.
Later that night she ended up going out with her teammates.
———————————-
You briefly sat at the dinner table, dress tight around your body, hair up, with a full face of makeup.
You discreetly checked the time on your phone being respectful of the professional setting, wondering where the hell Ale could be.
30 minutes turned into 60 and that turned into a hour and so forth.
You now lost all hope in her showing up.
Alexia failed you for the last time tonight. She knew how disparately asked her to show up.
This is when you knew that you guys relationship had came to an end.
It takes two people to pull through, and it felt ike it was mainly you fighting for it, and you could feel it.
You’ve felt this way for a while, you even talked to your best friend about it.
—————————-
“I swear i’ve thought of everything Ashley, I don’t know what’s been going on between us” You said in a tired tone.
“This is going to sound harsh but, have you might’ve thought that Alexia is seeing someone else?” Your friend said in a suggestive tone.
You knew deep down that Alexia was not like that at all, she even hated the thought of cheating. it was insensible to her. You knew if Alexia really caught feelings for someone else she would simply end the relationship between the two of you no matter how painful it would be to the two of you.
“God no, Ashley” You said quickly
“Okay, okay i get it that’s a pretty wild accusation, but you need to talk to her” She said reassuringly.
“I know i do but, a part of me feels like the relationship between me and her isn’t there anymore” you said sadly.
————————————
3 years… down the drain. A relationship that lasted 3 years seemed like it meant nothing to Alexia.
You tried everything in you to fight for it, not knowing that it was already over, you just had to come to terms with it.
When you arrived home, you hastily undressed yourself from the uncomfortable clothing.
You walked into you guys shared closet and grabbed your suitcase. You quickly started packing all your belongings and little things you had laying around in the apartment.
You were closing a chapter, and you knew that it was your time to leave. You didn’t want to stay up and wait for her, knowing it would be no use.
You quickly wrote her a goodbye note and headed to your own flat.
You knew what you did was a cowardly move but you had no fight left in you.
You finally said goodbye to the apartment that had built memories between the two of you.
It was really over..
———————————-
Alexia soon arrived home from another night out with her teammates. She parked her car as she finally checked her phone and was met with multiple missed calls and texts from you
y/n ❤️: where are you ?
y/n ❤️: are you on your way it’s been 30 mins ?
y/n ❤️: I thought i could’ve counted on you…
The blonde quickly freaked out. She totally forgot herself and everything around her. How could she be so stupid ?… She forgot the one important thing you asked her to show up to and she failed you.
She knows she’s been busy..
She quickly opened the door and quickly raced into you guys shared flat.
She was met with silence, all the lights turned off. She called out for you and was met with no answer.
She quickly scrapped her feet to move upstairs to see if you were there but just asleep.
She was met with a nice made bed. She also saw you guys shared closet door open with the light left on.
All of the hangers with your clothes were gone…
You suitcase was gone…
Your shoes that were once nicely lined up with her’s were even gone…
You left… she started freaking out.. looking left and right for any signs of something you’ve left.
She went towards the bed and found a letter with her name written on the front folded up.
She opened the letter..
“ Dear Alexia, I know you may be reading this with confusion, wondering where i’ve gone. I’ve decided to leave…Our relationship has been on a strain. I’ve tried to fight for it, but it feels like i’ve been pulling the strings by myself. Tonight just showed me that I in-fact could not depend on you. It feels like our 3 years have been wasted. I wanted us to become more in the future and grow with each other, but i guess it just wasn’t meant to be between the two of us. I can’t stay somewhere i’m not wanted. I’ll always love you Alexia.
From: Your’s truly y/n”
The blonde frantically folded up the paper in a haste to find her phone and call you. she continuously called you, to no avail you didn’t answer. she was continuously being met with your voicemail. Anger struck her body and she threw her phone, cracking it.
“joder!”
Alexia sat on the bed with her head in her hands accepting her defeat. She lost the one good thing that she had…taking it for granted blinded by her selfish actions…
She lost the love of her life…her everything.
Alexia sobbed that night…alone in you guys used to be shared bed.
She was all alone…
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cr-komi · 4 months
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"I Need to Know"
Summary: After a daunting sex experience, you're left with the idea that you're bad at sex, but is that really true? Or should you go to someone else to see if they can be honest with you about the truth?
Pairing: Kim Namjoon X Reader (F)
Genre: Smut, fluff (just a little bit at the very end)
Word Count: 6,200+
Warnings: Swearing, angst, oral (m&f receiving), unprotected sex (don't do this, please!), multiple orgasms
Author's Note: I'm back! It was super fun writing the last story so I'm doing it again :) I hope you all enjoy this one just as much as the last. Again, it's not really proofread per say? More like I just skimmed through it to quickly check for mistakes. Anyway, please enjoy and let me know what you think!
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"Wait, what did he tell you?"
Your best friend, Sana, had been resting lazily on the arm of the couch, quietly listening as you recollected the events of last night: going to a bar, meeting a guy who, unfortunately, was a total walking red flag, although due to your state of intoxication you were too blind to notice, getting into a car with him and going back to his apartment, and totally fucking up by having sex with him.
To your dismay, your memory had been completely clear, up until the moment you slept with him.
"He told me I was a bad lay." You mumbled, head hanging low.
"Jesus, what an asshole," she retorted, maneuvering herself so that she was facing you, insead of the wall she was previously eye-to-eye with, "why do you think he would say something like that?"
"Well, I know why, actually." You responded, eyes still averted towards the plush rug beneath you, "because the morning after we...you know...did it, he asked me if I wanted to be in a relationship, and I said...well, I said no."
Your words echoed in the stillness of the living room, and for a moment, the room seemed to hold its breath. The only sound was the soft ticking of the clock on the wall.
You hesitated, unsure of how to continue. The shame of your confession still lingered heavily in the air, a painful reminder of your poor judgment.
"Okay," Sana said quietly, trying to gauge the severity of the situation. "So he asked you if you wanted to like...date, and you said you rejected him. Then what happened?"
"Well...he got all mad at me. Saying shit like, 'Oh, I only got with you as a joke,' and 'You're nothing more than just a cocksleeve,' then he told me I sucked at sex and kicked me out."
"Don't worry, Y/N, you probably just bruised his ego and that's how he responded. It's nothing to be upset or embarrassed over."
You looked up at her, your eyes welling with tears. "I know, but I can't get those words out of my head. I mean, does he really think I'm bad at sex? Granted, it's not like I'm an expert or anything like that but--"
Sana reached out and gently squeezed your hand. "Sweetie, you're not bad at sex, trust me. He was just...mad but you'll both get over it. Don't let one asshole ruin your self-image."
"I'm trying, but it's kind of hard, you know? Everytime I try to have sex with a guy it lasts two minutes so they can use me to get themselves off, and then they move on to someone else. I just wish I could find someone who would be honest with me about this whole situation, someone who--"
Suddenly, a light switch went off in your head. You did know someone who could truly tell you if you were bad at sex or not. It may not be ideal, but you can only hope he'll say yes.
"I just...I just thought of something." You whispered, a hint of excitement and nervousness in your voice, "I know someone who can help me out. Someone who could... validate my skills in bed."
"Who is it?" Sana asked, equally intrigued and cautious.
You shot up from your seat on the floor, your phone falling out of your lap in the process, causing a loud crash to erupt the silence that had settled between the two of you.
Sana flinched at the sound, but continued her feat to get an answer out of you, "Well? Who the fuck do you know that can help you out?"
"Uh, it's uh...it's a little weird," you stammered, gently grabbing your phone from off the floor and checking for damages, although none were visible. You didn't want to go through with this, but deep down you knew it was the only option you had.
"Come on, Y/N, spill the beans!" Sana prodded, her voice filled with curiosity.
You hesitated for a moment, your face flushed with embarrassment, "I...I can't I promise I will tell you everything later but can you...will you..."
Sana laughed, "You want me to leave?"
"No, it's not that I want you to, it's just--"
Sana slowly got up from her spot on the couch, “Say no more, Y/N, I know you'll give me all of the juicy details later."
Sana smiled and gave you a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder, giving you the space to collect your thoughts.
You took a deep breath and gathered your courage, "Okay. I want you to know that this is... unconventional, but I know it's the only way I can get an honest answer."
"Don't worry, girl, I trust you. Have fun though, and be safe!"
You laughed quietly, "I will."
With a smile on her face, she blew you a kiss before picking up her shoes and gracefully departing. As she closed the door gently, you could hear a soft 'click' resonating in the air.
With a resounding sigh, you ran your hands through your hair, calming your shaking nerves by reminding yourself that you'll get through this. You can't change what happened, but you can take control of what happens next.
With a hint of uncertainty, you muttered to yourself, "Alright, here we go." 
You started scrolling through your contacts, nodding as your fingers finally landed on the desired number. Taking a deep breath, you hesitantly pressed the dial button, initiating the call.
After a few rings, he finally picked up.
"Hey, Y/N, I haven't heard from you in a while." His voice was raspy, almost tired in a way, and you wanted nothing more than to simply hang up the phone and live your life with the fact that you're probably bad at sex, but you pushed through.
"Yeah, I know. How are you?" You tried as hard as you could to seem as calm as possible, willing yourself to steady your nervous breathing.
He laughed into the phone, "I'm good, tired, I guess, but that's how things usually are."
You forced a laugh, "Yeah, you're right! Th-that is how things go, that's e-exactly how I'm feeling right now. Life after college isn't easy but I-I'm getting through it and I--" You winced, realizing that you had been prattling on for the past minute about things he probably doesn't care about, "S-sorry, I'm rambling."
You could hear him smile through the phone, "That's okay." He paused for a moment, seemingly thinking about something before continuing, "So, what's up? Did you need something? Or did you just want to check in?"
"Oh, no! I definitely have something to ask you. It's just...kind of hard to say over the phone, can you come over?"
It was dead silent over the line, and you just wanted to crumble into a million pieces. You were so embarrassed. Why did you think this would work? Why did you even think he would say yes to--
"Sure. I'll be over in an hour."
Suddenly, the line went dead, and your mind went numb. Was this really happening? Would he really say yes to this like you hoped he would?
Probably not, but a girl can dream.
Your heart began racing as you realized how close you came to humiliating yourself with your idea. But now, you had a chance to prove yourself and get some real answers.
"I guess I need to get ready." You mumbled, checking the time before scrambling to the shower, ready to shave off every hair on your entire body.
---
The steam enveloped you, a warm cocoon of mist that promised transformation. You stood beneath the cascading water, letting it wash away the remnants of the moments spent waiting for when you could finally see him.
Your fingers combed through your hair, lathering the strands with jasmine-scented shampoo; the fragrance was your favorite, lingering on you like a whispered secret.
"Focus," you murmured to yourself, rinsing the suds from your hair, watching them swirl into the drain. "It's just hanging out, not a life-changing event." But your heart’s fluttering betrayed your casual words.
You reached for the razor, gliding it along your skin with practiced precision, erasing the stubble in smooth strokes. Each movement was methodical, an effort to distract your mind from wandering towards him — his smile, his intellect, his unexpected kindnesses.
"Stop it," you chided yourself, but your lips curved upwards despite the reprimand. "You're just going to jinx it."
After turning off the water, you stepped out onto the plush bath mat, reaching for the towel in an attempt to begin and patting your skin dry. The mirror was fogged over, a ghostly canvas before you. With a sweep of your hand across its surface, your reflection peered back, a mixture of anticipation and vulnerability etched onto your features.
"Okay, Y/N, you can do this. Moisturize, makeup, and then--" Suddenly, a loud bang at the door caused you to jump out of your skin.
Your breath hitched in your throat, and for a moment, you hesitated, wondering if it was simply your imagination playing tricks on you. But the sound echoed in your ears, undeniable and frightening.
"Who could that be?" You thought, pulse quickening. Fear gripped your chest as you flung the towel around your body, clutching it tightly to your still-damp skin.
"Coming!" You called out, voice wavering slightly. You hurried to the door, your bare feet slapping against the cold tiles, leaving wet footprints in your wake. Every step fueled by a sense of urgency, you couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss.
As you reached the door, you swung it open, revealing the last person you expected to be standing there, despite your phone call from earlier.
Namjoon.
He blinked rapidly, clearly not expecting you to answer the door in such a state.
"Namjoon... What are you doing here? You're early," you stammered, taken aback by his unexpected arrival.
"Uh, yeah," he replied, glancing down at his feet before looking back up at you. "I wanted to come earlier. I just... I don't know, I felt like I needed to see you sooner."
His gaze lingered on you, unable to tear his eyes away from the sight of droplets of water cascading down your body, tracing rivulets over your collarbones and along your arms. It was clear that he hadn't anticipated this turn of events, and his obvious distraction only added to the electric charge in the air between the two of you.
"Are you okay?" You asked, your voice a mixture of concern and embarrassment. You couldn't help but feel exposed under his intense gaze, even with the towel wrapped securely around you.
"Uh, yeah," he said again, finally dragging his eyes back up to yours. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you or anything."
Your heart hammered in your chest as you looked at him, trying to discern his true intentions for coming early. Was it simply impatience that had driven him to your doorstep, or was there something deeper at play?
"Can you give me a moment to get dressed?" you asked softly, feeling the warmth of a blush creeping up your cheeks. "Then we can talk."
"Of course," Namjoon replied, stepping back from the doorway. "Take your time."
"No, no," you continued, slightly stuttering, you can come in, I just need a minute. You can make yourself comfortable on the couch or something if you'd like."
Namjoon nodded, noticing the tremble in your voice. He stepped inside, his eyes lingering on you for a moment longer before he crossed the room and sat down on the couch. You closed the door behind him and retreated to your bedroom, quickly pulling on a Brandy Melville tank-top and shorts set.
You didn't put on a bra or underwear underneath...just in case.
You emerged a few minutes later, your hair still damp and looking slightly disheveled. Namjoon was still sitting on the couch, his posture relaxed but alert.
"So," he began as you took a seat across from him. "What did you want to ask me?"
Oh, fuck. Here goes nothing.
"Well...I-I was out the other night," you began, voice trembling with nerves, "and, well, me and this guy, well we...I mean he...I mean we met a-at the bar."
Namjoon nodded, listening intently, never taking his eyes off of you.
"So, we went back to his apartment and...well...we, you know, did it."
Namjoon chuckled, feigning innocence, "I think you may have to spell it out for me, Y/N."
"We had sex." You deadpanned, hands shaking slightly, "a-and when I woke up in the morning, I'll spare you the details, but...he told me...h-he told me I-I was a bad...a bad lay."
You could see the disgust and hurt flash across Namjoon's face at the mention of this guy's insensitivity. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and looked at you intently.
"I'm so sorry, Y/N. No one deserves to hear something like that, especially not you."
"Well...thank you but, I didn't just ask you here for your sympathy."
Namjoon's eyebrows raised in curiosity, "Oh? Well then why did you?"
"Because I..."
Just do it Y/N, it's now or never.
"Because you...?" He continued, trying to make you finish your sentence.
"Because I want your opinion."
You averted your gaze towards the ground, too nervous to gauge his reaction.
"My...opinion?" He echoed, clearly confused.
"I want to know if I'm really bad at sex or not. So...I asked you over because I know you'd be honest with me."
"Y/N, what are you asking me to do?"
"I'm asking you to fuck me...?"
You mumbled the last part, almost embarrassed to have spoken it aloud. Namjoon stared at you for a moment, shocked, before finally speaking, "Is this a joke?"
You hesitated, not sure if this was the right move, but you knew you had to be honest with yourself. With a deep breath, you looked up at Namjoon, meeting his eyes with determination.
"No, it's not a joke," you said firmly. "I want to know, from someone I trust, if I'm really bad at sex or not."
"I-I don't know, Y/N. I mean, seriously? We haven't seen each other in over a year and now you're suddenly asking me to fuck you?" He rose from his place on the couch suddenly pacing back and forth in front of you.
"I know it's sudden but...please if you'd just listen--"
"Y/N, stop. This wouldn't work out. Ever. I'm your brother's best friend."
"But Namjoon, is that--"
"I-I have to go," He interrupted, making a beeline towards the door in an attempt to escape the situation, but you couldn't just let him walk away like this.
Frustrated, you rushed towards him, grabbing him as quickly as possible before he could leave.
He paused, refusing to look at you and instead averting his gaze to the hand wrapped around his wrist.
"Please, Namjoon, just hear me out," you pleaded, your voice a desperate whisper. "I know this is sudden, but I need some closure. I need to know if--"
In an unexpected turn of events, you found yourself taken aback as Namjoon suddenly gripped your shoulders, forcefully slamming you against the door behind you.
The intensity of his tightening grip on your shoulders sent an electric jolt through your body, and you felt your heart rate quicken as you looked up into his eyes. They were filled with a mix of confusion, desire, and something you couldn't quite put your finger on.
"You have to understand something, Y/N," He whispered, leaning in so close to your face that you could feel his hot breath fanning against your cheeks, "There's nothing in this world that I want more than to just fuck you senseless, right here, right now, but I need to know how serious you are."
You looked into his eyes, two twin pools of darkness that seemed to be clouded over with lust, "S-serious?" You stammered, "I-I am serious, Namjoon."
Namjoon's eyes pierced into yours, leaving no room for escape from this bold new territory, "Are you sure that this is what you want? You're not afraid of any sort of consequence that might follow?"
"No," you responded, steadying your voice in an attempt to sound confident, "I'm not afraid, Namjoon, I want this. Please."
He looked down for a moment, and you could tell he was battling his inner conscience, deciding on whether he should really fuck his best friend's sister or not.
He released his grip on your shoulders and ran his fingers through his hair, clearly still conflicted.
You could see the desperation and need in his eyes, trying to muster up the courage to do the very thing he knew he shouldn't be doing.
I mean, was this really the right thing to do? What if in the end--
"Fuck it."
He closed the distance between you two, his lips crushing down onto yours in a passionate and hungry kiss. He was taking control of the situation, and he knew exactly what he wanted.
Your hands shot up to his face, your fingers entwining with his hair as you pulled him closer. His hands began to grip your waist, pulling you even closer to his body as he ground his hips into yours.
Your body trembled with anticipation as Namjoon began to trail kisses down your neck, leaving a trail of fire in his wake. You felt his breath on the sensitive skin of your throat, sending shivers down your spine.
As his mouth returned to your lips, you could taste the remnants of his hunger and desire. The tension between you seemed to melt away, as you felt your body respond to his every touch. The wetness between your legs grew with every moment that passed, as you pulled him closer to you.
"Namjoon," you breathed out, your voice a whisper that seemed to hang in the air between you. His hands embraced your waist, pulling you even closer, his body flush against your own. You felt his erection against your thigh, a powerful reminder of how much he wanted you right now.
You moaned softly, arching your back in response to the sensation, and Namjoon responded by deepening the kiss, his tongue darting into your mouth to tangle with yours. His hands roamed over your body, cupping your ass and pulling you even closer to him.
Slowly, he began to guide you towards your bedroom, stumbling through the hallway as you went, your legs feeling weak from the desire that was pooling in your lower half. You hit the bed with a soft thud, Namjoon quickly following you down. He hovered over you, his eyes filled with a hunger that you knew you could easily satisfy.
"Are you sure about this, Y/N?" he asked, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation. You nodded, your eyes never leaving his. You were ready, and you knew it.
He wasted no time in removing your top, exposing your pert breasts to his gaze. His eyes widened as he took you in, his breath catching in his throat.
"Fuck, you're gorgeous," he whispered, his fingers brushing over your nipple, causing it to harden even more.
You moaned loudly, writhing in pleasure as Namjoon began to suck on your right nipple, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine. His left hand slowly trailed up your stomach, over your chest, and cupped your other breast, squeezing it gently before rolling the nipple between his fingers. He kissed and nipped at the tender flesh, causing you to gasp.
You felt a sudden rush of heat spread throughout your body as he swirled his tongue around the tip, you've never felt anything like this before—his touch is electric, his kisses like tiny explosions on your skin.
You bit your lower lip, trying to contain the moans threatening to escape. You can feel his erection pressing against your thigh, and it only serves to fuel your desire.
"Namjoon," you breathe, voice hoarse, "Please."
He smirked against your skin, "Tell me what you want, baby."
“Wanna feel your mouth on me.”
He pulled away from your nipple, trailing kisses down your stomach while his fingers traced down your side, up your thigh, until he reached the waistband of your pants.
“Take them off, Y/N," he whispered, his voice a raspy plea.
You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest as you reached down and slid off your shorts, revealing your pussy to him. He groaned, clearly impressed as he took it all in.
“No underwear, huh? I guess you knew this would happen.”
You nodded, “Uh huh– oh, fuck!”
He leaned down and licked your outer lips, causing you to gasp and arch your back in pleasure. You moaned in delight as you felt Namjoon's warm, wet mouth close around your clit, his tongue dancing over your sensitive nub.
Your hips bucked up off the bed involuntarily, seeking more contact as he began to lap at you, sucking softly. The sensation is exquisite, the feeling of his tongue on your sensitive folds sending shivers down your spine.
You gasp as he deepens the pleasure tenfold, his hands gripping your thighs tightly to keep you in place. You run your fingers through his hair, pulling him closer, your head thrown back with a soft whimper.
"Fuck," you pant, your voice barely above a whisper, "that feels so good."
You can feel his hot breath on your pussy, his fingers teasing your entrance as he continues to work your clit with his mouth.
You writhe underneath him, moaning loudly as his tongue flicks over and around your clit, driving you wild. Each time he licks you, you shudder, your body tensing in anticipation of the next stroke. You close your eyes, unable to contain your ecstasy, the pleasure coursing through your veins.
You're lost in the sensation, ignoring everything but how amazing his mouth feels on you. The bed squeaks softly as you rock your hips, meeting each of his movements with your own.
His scent surrounds you, musky and arousing, igniting a fire inside you that burns hotter with every passing moment. His hands squeeze your thighs harder, teases you with his tongue, relentless in his ministrations.
You can feel the heat building inside of you, climaxing ever closer. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes as you near the edge, throat working to swallow back the moans that threaten to escape, but Namjoon stops you.
"I want to hear you, Y/N."
His words unleash a torrent of emotion in you, and you let out a loud moan as you begin to lose control. Your hands grip his hair, pulling him tighter against your sex as your hips buck wildly.
"I can't hold on," you gasp, your voice barely recognizable.
Namjoon smiles against you, and his fingers begin to move in time with his tongue, probing at your entrance, and you cry out, hips rocking off the bed.
You're close, so close, and you want release more than anything.
With a sudden surge of motion, he adds another finger, pushing it deep inside of you, stretching your walls. Your eyes roll into the back of your head as he begins to thrust his hand, filling you up.
Your breath catches in your throat, you arch your back, fingers digging into his shoulders.
The combination of his fingers and tongue on your sensitive flesh is too much to bear, sending you spiraling over the edge. "Namjoon," you whispers, voice thick with desire, "I'm coming--"
Your body tenses, orgasm hitting you like a freight train. A moan rips from your throat as you come hard, hips jerking off the bed.
Your walls grip at his fingers, and your nails dig into his shoulders. You quiver and shake, your whole body shuddering from the force of your release.
"You taste so fucking good, Y/N."
When you finally calm down, you feel the warm stickiness between your legs, the taste of him on your tongue.
Your eyes flutter open to see him smiling at you, his face flushed with pleasure. He leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips, and you flinch from oversensitivity.
You slowly lift yourself up after coming down from your high, meeting Namjoon's eyes, clouded with desire and want.
You lean forward, reaching for his obvious erection, palming him through his pants.
"Fuck, Y/N," he groans, his voice ragged.
"Take them off," you murmur seductively, your voice dripping with lust. Your eyes never leave his as he unzips the fly of his jeans, slowly pulling them down along with his boxers, freeing his erection. It's hard and thick, and you can't help but stare at it, your heart pounding in your chest in anticipation.
Your hands shake slightly as you reach out, wrapping your fingers around the base of his shaft, feeling how hot and hard he is. You stroke him slowly, watching his reactions, the way his eyes flutter shut and his lips part slightly. You can see the desire in his eyes, and you know that he wants you just as much as you want him.
You lean in close, brushing your lips against the head of his cock, teasing him with the promise of what's to come. He lets out a low groan as you trail soft kisses down his length
His shaft, before finally taking him deep into your mouth. You suck on him gently, using your tongue to tease and play with his sensitive head. Namjoon groans, his hands threading through your hair as you pleasure him, your lips slowly moving up and down his shaft.
His hips buck, trying to thrust into your mouth, and you let him, gagging slightly but continuing to take him deeper and deeper until his entire length is inside of you. You moan around him, enjoying the taste and feel of him, the warmth and the power you have over him.
"H-holy shit, Y/N. Fuck that feels so--fuck."
You pull back, sucking hard on the head one last time before releasing him. You look up at Namjoon, who is looking down at you with an expression of pure desire. 
His hands find their way into your hair, tangling in the silken locks as he struggles to maintain control. He moans your name, encouraging you to continue, his eyes closing tightly as he loses himself in the sensation. The sound of slurping and smacking fill the air as you bob your head up and down, your mouth working him almost mechanically.
He can feel the bed dipping slightly with every thrust of your head, your bodies moving in sync. The scent of arousal fills the room, and Namjoon knows he's close to the edge. He begins to pant, his breath coming faster as he nears his climax.
Sighing he grabs your hair tighter, pulling you off his dick and forcing you to look up at him, "Enough, I don't want to come before I'm inside of you."
Namjoon lets go of your makeshift ponytail, and reluctantly, you pull away, sitting on your haunches before him, waiting to see what he does next.
He roughly tugs his jeans the rest of the way down his legs, and you fiddle with the hem of his shirt, silently pleading with him to remove it so that he can be bare in front of you.
He obliges, pulling his shirt over his head and tossing it aside. His rippling muscles and toned abs are revealed, sending a shiver down your spine.
Namjoon's sculpted body was, in his words, "a testament to the hours of dedication he committed to both his physical and mental well-being." His broad shoulders tapered downward into a lean, chiseled torso that showcased his defined pectoral muscles. The light caught the edges of his rippling abs, seemingly amplifying their strength. His arms, strong and toned, were equally impressive - a result of countless hours spent lifting weights and perfecting his form.
You stare at him in awe and reach out, wanting to feel his body against yours. You pull him down onto the bed, your hands exploring every inch of him as you kiss him passionately. His hands run through your hair, gently pulling it back as he takes your lips in a deep, passionate kiss.
His body presses against you, your breasts flattening against his chest as he deepens the kiss. You can feel his cock, hard and pulsating, pushing against your thigh.
Your hands explore his back, feeling the muscles ripple beneath your touch. He lifts himself up, breaking the kiss, and you feel his weight shift as he positions himself between your legs.
He stares at you for a moment with questioning eyes, "Ready?"
You nod eagerly, breath hitched in anticipation. Namjoon slowly pushes himself inside you, your walls tightening around him as he fills you completely. You gasp, arching your back as your body adjusts to his girth.
"Fuck, you feel so good," he groans, his eyes locked on yours.
He begins to move, thrusting slowly at first, but gaining momentum as he finds your rhythm. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper inside you.
"Shit, Namjoon!" You cry out, your voice a mix of pleasure and pain as he hits just the right spot. His movements become more urgent, and you can feel his cock hitting your G-spot with each thrust.
"F-fuck Y/N. You’re so tight babe." He growls, his hips pounding into you.
You whimper, your body trembling from the sensation of his dick filling you up and stretching you out.
You're so close, so close to coming undo--
Suddenly, Namjoon pulls out of you, and you whine at the empty feeling, looking up at him with pleading eyes, "Namjoon, what are you--"
"Turn around," He interrupts, grabbing your hips, "ass up."
You blush at his words, but your arousal only deepens as he helps you turn around, and he positions himself behind you.
He rubs the head of his dick against your entrance, teasing you and making you crave him even more. You moan softly, reaching down to guide him inside you.
With a swift, powerful thrust, Namjoon slams into you, filling you completely as the bed creaks beneath the two of you. You cry out, your hands flying to your mouth to stifle the sound, but your voice gives out and you let out a yelp.
Your heart races as Namjoon's hips slam into you, feeling the thick length of his cock hitting your sweet spot with each hard thrust.
You moan loudly, a hand clutching onto the sheets underneath you and the other running through your hair.
The headboard hits the wall with a loud thud as Namjoon forces himself deeper inside of you, causing you to cry out in pleasure. Your body trembles under the onslaught of sensations - the feeling of being here, the pleasure spreading through you, the sound of your skin slapping together.
"Damn, you have such a nice ass," Namjoon pants, his breaths coming in short gasps as he smacks the supple skin before running his hand back over the spot he marked to soothe it.
You whimper in response, it only serves to intensify the experience for you, the sting combining with the delight of being taken so roughly.
You thrust your hips back towards Namjoon, meeting his movements with equal force, his cock leaking pre-cum onto the floor.
"And these tits," He growls, leaning forward to cup your left breast, rolling the nipple through his fingers, causing you to moan loudly without restraint, body trembling with anticipation.
Namjoon growls low in his throat, his free hand finding its way to your puffy clit, rubbing it gently as he thrusts into you.
"Oh god, Namjoon!" It's almost too much for you to handle - the dual sensations are driving you wild.
You feel yourself getting closer to the edge, but you don't want it to end yet, not when Namjoon is treating you like this.
With a groan, Namjoon pulls out almost completely, only to slam back in with more force than before. Your fingers dig into the mattress beneath you, breath hitching as your walls tighten around him, "Fuck, Namjoon, I'm so close!"
"Yeah? You gonna come again, baby?"
"Yes, Namjoon, please!"
Namjoon smiles wickedly, increasing his pace as he feels your desire growing. He grabs the back of your hips, pulling you harder against him as he thrusts deeper inside you. His thrusts are rough and unrelenting, his hips pounding into you with each powerful impact.
You can feel the dampness between your legs, the juice from your arousal seeping down your thighs and onto the bed. The sound of your breaths and his grunts fill the room as the tension builds. Your nails dig into the mattress, leaving small indentations as you cling to the fabric for dear life.
His hands roam over your body, caressing your skin and heightening your sensitivity. He tweaks your nipples, causing you to cry out with pleasure and pain. His fingers explore your inner thighs, trailing along your sensitive skin, making you tremble with desire.
"Oh, shit," Namjoon groans, his eyes rolling back into his head as he feels his own orgasm beginning to build.
With a final burst of energy, you push back against him, meeting his every thrust as he pounds into you, his cock rubbing against your G-spot with each strong movement.
"Fuck, Namjoon!" You cry out, your body trembling uncontrollably as you feel your climax beginning to take hold.
"Shit, Y/N, I'm so close," Namjoon growls, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he fights to hold back his orgasm.
Your walls tighten around him once more, pulling him deeper inside you as you scream out in pleasure, your body writhing beneath him as you feel the waves of your release crash over you. Your walls tighten and release around Namjoon's pulsating cock, causing him to groan in pleasure.
His own release is becoming too much to hold back, and with a final, powerful thrust, he buries himself deep inside you as he lets out a loud groan. Your name on his lips as he cries out in pleasure, "Holy shit, Y/N!"
His hips stutter, body trembling as his orgasm overtakes him. You can feel his warm, fluid spilling inside of you, filling you completely. The sensation is unlike anything you've ever experienced before - it's intense, it's overwhelming, and you love every second of it.
He holds you tightly against him, his breath hot against the back of your neck, as he slowly starts to regain his composure. His heart is pounding against your back erratically.
You slowly open your eyes and look back at him, a content smile gracing your lips. "That was incredible, Namjoon," you breathe, your voice soft and sultry.
He kisses your neck, his lips leaving a trail of warmth as he moves down your shoulder. "I think I agree," he murmurs, his voice already starting to calm down.
You both lay panting, your bodies entwined, the sweat glistening on your skin, the scent of passion filling the room. He pulls out of you, his cock wet and sticky from your connection. He pulls his hips away from you and collapses next to you on the bed, both of you trying to regain your breath.
The seconds pass into minutes, and you both lay there in content silence, your bodies entwined, the remnants of your encounter still lingering between you.
Namjoon's fingers trace lazy patterns on your back, his touch gentle and soothing. He leans in close to your ear, whispering, "Let me clean you up."
"Mmm, okay," you reply, your voice still thick with lust.
He gets off the bed and grabs a warm cloth from the bathroom, bringing it back to you.
Slowly, he turns you over, and you lay on your back, your legs spread wide, his body hovering above you. He takes the cloth and smiles, gently dabbing at your sensitive folds, cleaning away the remnants of your sexual encounter.
You moan softly, your body still quivering from the intensity of your orgasms. His touch is soothing, yet it sends shivers of desire through you. He continues to clean you, his fingers exploring your delicate folds as he does so.
Once he's finished, he places the cloth on the nightstand and lies down beside you, his arm wrapping around your waist, pulling you close.
His fingers trace the curve of your hip, massaging gently as you both lay there, catching your breath and basking in the afterglow of what the two of you have just done.
The room is filled with the sound of your heartbeats, in sync and pounding in rhythm with each other. You feel safe and secure in Namjoon's arms, and you turn to face him, a gentle look etched into your features, "So, what did you think...?"
He softly strokes your hair, "About what?"
"Well...am I a bad lay...?" You mumble the last part and he smiles, cupping your cheek in his hand.
"No, absolutely not. You were...perfect. He was probably just upset that you rejected him and that's how he reacted."
You snuggle closer, feeling his heartbeat syncing with yours,"I'm glad you're here with me," you whisper.
Namjoon nods, "Me too."
You smile, feeling his warmth enveloping you.
The tentative silence is broken by Namjoon's voice as he speaks, "Do you want me to stay the night?"
You think for a moment, "Yes, please."
"I'll be right back," he says as he gets off the bed, returning a moment later with a clean sheet and blanket. He carefully covers the two of you with the cozy layers, your bodies pressed closely together.
"Sleep well, Y/N." He whispers.
"Sleep well."
As the night progresses, you both drift off to sleep, the dim light from the moonlight streaming through the window casting soft shadows on the wall. The scent of sex lingers in the air, a heady reminder of the passion that had just passed between the two of you. You are lulled into a peaceful slumber, your hearts beating in harmony with each other's rhythm.
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