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userchai · 5 months

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𝐇𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐁𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐇𝐨𝐦𝐞

steddie x fem!reader collab with @voyeurmunson

summary: a facetime call with Eddie and Steve gets heated

warnings- masturbation (f), mlm, jerking off, dirty talk, fantasizing, dick slapping, if I miss anything tell me!

wordcount- 1.8K

a/n: thank you guys for reading we hope you enjoy this, feedback is always appreciated and welcome! 💞

October 2022

Being cooped up indoors was making you stir crazy, you hadn’t seen your boyfriend in a week and you could feel the withdrawal setting in. Eddie had gone to visit Steve, his best friend that currently lived in Chicago. He was a CEO, a big shot but Eddie swore he was down to earth. You had to admit he was easy on the eyes and even you’d seen Eddie glance at him in a much more that friendly way before. You sighed as you slumped back onto your bed, opening your laptop before clicking on FaceTime. Eddie called every night around the same time, sure he wasn’t physically with you but seeing him always made you feel like a schoolgirl with their first crush.

“Hey sweetheart.” You smile as you see your boyfriend’s frizzy hair, his brown eyes sleepy as he rubs them with the back of his hand. “Missin’ me again peanut?” You nod, as he grins at you, the dimples on his cheeks prominent. “Can’t help it Ed’s you’ve been gone for way too long, tell Steve I want my boyfriend back.” You whine out, hearing Steve’s laugh ring out from somewhere in their room. He quickly pops into view, sitting down next to Eddie. His glasses sliding down his nose before he pushes them back up and grabs a blanket, curling up. “Sorry, didn’t you know he was my man before he was yours?” Steve says, winking at you as you roll your eyes playfully.

“So sorry, forgot you guys are married.” You say, Eddie laughs, leaning back against the couch as you watch the both of them. They both looked like sin, Steve with his brown sweater that complimented his eyes far too well… and Eddie, who didn’t even bother to put clothes on only in his boxers, the black hair on his stomach tempting. You wanted to run your tongue over it. Your mind wanders as they take turns telling you about what they had been up to today, you weren’t catching all of it simply because your mind couldn’t stop thinking about how you wanted to be between them.

You craved the feeling of Eddie’s calloused hands running over your body, down, down, getting closer to where you needed him the most before he’d pull away, a cruel smile dancing on his lips as you’d whine quietly. Steve would be on the other side of you, leaning down to your neck, his nose gently tracing up the side of it before nipping at your ear playfully. You snapped out of it as Steve’s hand waves in front of the camera, you feel yourself flush as Eddie’s laugh comes through your speakers. “What were you thinking about sweetheart?” He asks, a knowing look in his eyes as you glance over to the clock on your bedside table. “N-nothing really, just miss you Eddie.” You whisper, chewing on your lip nervously before looking back over at the two of them.

Steve sets his coffee down, glancing over at Eddie before leaning over to whisper something to him. Eddie smiles looking at you before nodding at Steve. You huff in annoyance. “Hey, no secrets, what's going on guys?” You ask, adjusting your shirt as you sit up against your headboard. “So Steve and I have had this idea, because sorry sweetheart you’re way too obvious about how you feel. I see how you look at the both of us.” You stop breathing for a second, your face heating up as you think about slamming your laptop shut. Shit. “We just wanted to ask you if you wanna have some fun.” He says, leaning forward some so that his eyes are practically burning through yours. “A-and what would this fun be Eddie?” You squirm a little, looking at where Steve was sitting, his eyes were glued to you.

“Oh I think you know sweetheart, I think you’ve been fantasizing some filthy things in that pretty little head of yours. We want to hear about it baby, is that okay?” You close your eyes, trying to ground yourself before opening your mouth to answer. “Yes sir, I’ll tell you.” Eddie nods. “Good girl. Every thought baby, they all belong to Steve and I. One more thing though peanut, I want you to touch yourself too while you tell us. Can you do that, baby?” You nod, your fingers twitching at the hem of your shirt as you focus on them.

“Was thinking about you touching me, both of you, touching me.” You slowly slide your hands up your shirt, your fingers leaving goosebumps as you imagine your hardest that they belong to either of the men on your laptop screen. You let your mouth run, your mind shutting off as you tell the both of them every deep and dark fantasy that’s played through your mind when seeing them. You bite your lip, your eyelashes fluttering as you try your best to keep your eyes open. There’s a moment where Eddie says something to Steve but you’re too lost in the moment to care.

Your fingers slip under the band of your shorts, sliding lower until a dampness covers them. Your breathing shortens as you hear Steve let out a choked moan, you glance at the screen again watching as Eddie’s hand slides over onto his lap, his ringed fingers teasing the prominent bulge straining against his pants. “You’re doing so good, baby.” Eddie whispers, his hand wrapping around Steve’s clothed cock the best that it can. Steve grips the back of the couch, the muscles in his neck straining as he lets out little huffs of air. His face is red as he lazily watches you. Your boyfriend is all too smug next to Steve while he teases him. “Show us what you wish we were doing to you honey.”

You slowly lift your hips, pushing your shorts off before your panties follow quickly behind. You scoot the computer down, making sure they have a perfect view of you as you spread your legs. You’re so wet you can feel it running down to your ass, ruining the sheets below you. You close your eyes as you imagine the two men in your room with you, caressing your skin as you lay before them. “She’s so pretty Eddie.” Steve moans, the sound of a slick fist can be heard, you didn’t know if it was his or Eddie’s. Your fingers trail down your thighs before you finally touch yourself for them. You gently place them against your clit, a sort of hiss breaking its way from your throat as you finally circle it slowly.

“There’s a good girl.” You hear Eddie say, your eyes open slowly and you think you’ve died and gone to heaven at the sight before you. The boys had made quick work while your mind was floating, not only were they completely undressed now… Steve’s hand was wrapped around Eddie, and Eddie’s hand around Steve. The both of them slowly work over each other, the sound of their wet skin and moans making butterflies flutter in your stomach. “Oh fuck.” You moan, as you slip two fingers inside yourself, “Want you both so bad, n-need you here, want you inside.” You say, your fingers slowly sliding in and out of yourself before you pick up speed, thinking about how they’d feel inside you, on you. You wanted their mouths on you, you wanted them to use you. “Fuck, Steve… Eddie.” You moan out.

“Look at her big boy, she’s crying for you. Think she could take this big dick?” He asks, taking his hand off of Steve before slapping it a few times. The muscles in his legs twitch as his body tries to coil away, the moans coming from his mouth telling a complete different story. You feel yourself throb, watching beads of pre-cum slide down Steve onto Eddie’s fist as he wraps his hand back around the other man. “Make him cum Eddie, wanna see.” You mumble, your other hand coming up to play with your tits, pinching and pulling your nipples until you feel like crying. Eddie smirks over at Steve, running his hand back up to squeeze at his sensitive head as Steve lazily strokes Eddie, his hand pausing every few seconds. “Gonna show her? Think she wants a show, Stevie.” Steve nods, his hair falling around his face as the muscles in his stomach tense up.

Eddie flicks his wrist over him a few more times before Steve is cumming, his eyes latched onto your fingers watching the way they push in deeper. “Fuckkk.” He moans, he sounds like he’s been taken straight from a porno as he fucks up into Eddie’s fist, his lips swollen and raw from how hard he’s bitten them. His hand grips tighter onto Eddie, creating a pain that has Eddie reeling, his own release threatening to break at any moment. Eddie’s eyes shut as Steve comes down a little more from his own high, stroking over the older man with a sick sort of smile on his face, he’s glancing between the both of you. “You should feel how hard he is honey, I just know he wishes he could cum in your pussy right now.” Your hips buck off of the bed as you pull your fingers out of yourself quickly, gliding them back up and around your clit.

“Y-yes Steve oh fuck, please, make him cum, want him to cum in me please I-” your rumbling is cut short as you spread your legs a bit more, your fingers pace growing erratic as Eddie moans. His head is leaned back against the couch, the curls that you love to pull on so much falling down over his shoulders, sweat is beading on his forehead and running down the side of his face. Steve does something that finally breaks you, leaning towards Eddie and opening his mouth. Your eyes focus hard as he sticks his tongue out, licking up from Eddie’s jaw to the side of his face before he’s pulling away, staring straight at you. “Cum. Right now. Both of you.” He demands. The both of you obey Steve’s command, your bodies giving up and at his mercy.

You’d never experienced something like this before, and you already feel addicted to it as your body shakes. You try to watch Eddie cumming too but you can’t keep your eyes open as you drift off into a blissful state, your chest heaving as you slump back against your bed, worn out. You faintly hear Steve’s voice muttering out praises as you smile happily, finally able to open your eyes. Eddie’s still leaned back against the couch, a dopey smile on his face as Steve laughs at him. “You weren’t kidding man, she’s perfect.” Eddie nods slowly like he can barely hold his head up. “We're doing this again sweetheart, if you want to of course?” You’ve never answered a question faster in your life, “Yes! please.” Eddie chuckles, slowly leaning down to pull his boxers back up. “Steve’s ticket has already been bought sweetheart he’s coming back with me.”

Oh my god. You’re doomed.

taglist 🏷️

@gri959 @munsonsgirl1234 @jamdoughnutmagician @strangerthingsmamareblogs @littlexdeaths @vecslut

#eddie munson smut #steddie smut #steddie #steddie x fem!reader #steve harrington smut #eddie munson #steve harrington #steve harrington x female reader smut #eddie munson x reader #joseph quinn smut

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aethes-bookshelf · 7 months

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let me be your shelter || astarion/gn!tav

This is the result of an especially hectic exam season. I started writing this fic instead of having a meltdown lol Now that I have more time again, I decided to finish it :) I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: hurt/comfort (mostly comfort), gn!Tav (can be read as a self-insert), Tav/Reader is the one being comforted

Pairing: Astarion/Tav, Astarion/Reader

Wordcount: 1.5k

Summary: You’d always tried to be the strong, reliable one — a leader through and through, a shoulder to cry on for everyone else. Even after everything you'd been through, you put on a brave face. All the way up until you couldn't.

Luckily, Astarion's always there to pick up the pieces.

ao3 link

The sun was setting outside when you finally closed the front door of your house behind you, cloaking the entrance corridor in darkness. The straps of your pack were digging quite painfully into your shoulder, no doubt leaving angry marks on your skin. You threw it to the floor with a huff and closed your eyes for a moment,

The day's exhaustion rolled off of you in waves; hours worth of dust and grime stuck to your clothes and skin. Rebuilding the city after the Battle of Baldur’s Gate was a noble cause. It being noble, however, didn’t make it any less exhausting.

You tried running your fingers through your hair, but your hand almost got stuck in it instead. The firm tug against your scalp made your eyes water. Your back was on fire, your legs were on fire, your face was tacky with drying sweat. It was all so much, too much.

Curling up in a corner and staying there until the sun fell out of the sky seemed worryingly appealing. I still have to go back out there tomorrow, though, you thought. The ugly, choking pressure in your throat got tighter and tighter. Your eyes, still clenched shut, brimmed with tears.

‘Darling?’ called a familiar voice from somewhere on the other side of the corridor. ‘Why are you just standing there? At least light a candle or something. It’s not like you can see like this,’ the voice continued, getting closer.

There was the hiss of a match being lit; one, two, three candles lit up the darkness.

‘Well, not that you can see much with your eyes closed, anyway,’ said Astarion. All snark left his voice when he saw the first tears roll down your cheeks. ‘Oh, I wasn’t that mean, was I? Why are you crying, love?’

‘I-I’m sorry.’ Your voice broke. ‘I don’t- don’t know why, I’m just- just so…’ you trailed off as the first sobs tore out of your chest.

Just a few months ago, Astarion would be looking like a deer in headlights right about now. He still remembered the very first time you broke down after the whole Absolute-tadpole nonsense was over. After everyone else went their separate ways and you chose to stay to help rebuild the city and he chose to stay with you. Naturally.

The breakdown happened soon after. The second night the two of you slept in your brand new bed in your brand new house, the dam inside you just broke, shattered into pieces; and you were swept up in the current of the build-up grief and fear.

Astarion, as much as he loathed to admit it, panicked. He had no idea how to comfort people; after all, it wasn’t a skill necessary for survival for most of his life, so he never really bothered to learn it. He still hadn’t even after whatever the two of you shared at first turned more serious. You’d always tried to be the strong, reliable one — a leader through and through, a shoulder to cry on for everyone else. The stable one. The stable one never gets to cry, so you didn’t.

As ashamed as Astarion was when he realized it, he hadn’t even thought you could cry. It just never really crossed his mind.

Luckily for the both of you, he loved you far too much not to learn from his mistakes after that very first night of the rest of your life. He’d like to think he got comforting you down to a science.

‘Would you like a hug, my sweet?’ Step one was almost always physical contact. And not just because holding you became one of his favorite pastimes; rather, it was grounding for you to have something to hold onto when you got like this. Astarion would gladly volunteer to be that something whenever he could.

You didn’t trust your voice enough to answer, so you just nodded instead. You were starting to tremble; rarely a good sign. Whatever stress-induced breakdown was happening would probably be a big one.

Astarion knew better than to try to wrestle you from the spot you were standing in. It would do nothing except agitate you further, so he simply walked up to you and gathered you into his arms.

The moment you were close enough to hide your face in the crook of his neck, the sobs that had been building up inside you this entire time wrecked your body. You were wailing loudly; so loudly you’d be embarrassed if you had enough energy left in you to care.

Astarion winced slightly at first — you were close enough to his ear for it to hurt. Still, he held you closer, firmer. Just enough pressure to help you calm down.

Eventually, your wailing died down to sobbing, and sobbing turned into soft sniffling. He tried to run a hand through your hair; his fingers nearly got stuck in it, just like yours before.

‘Would you say no to a bath, darling?’ he said, voice soft and quiet. ‘I got some new scented oils a few days ago. I even paid for them this time.’

That got a small chuckle out of you. Your throat was raw and your face was even more sticky now; a bath sounded wonderful.

‘I’d rather like a bath, I think.’ Your voice was all scratchy. You’d probably have one hell of a time trying to speak tomorrow.

‘Come on, then.’ Astarion kissed the top of your head and gently pried you away from his neck.

Usually you were the one leading him everywhere; he supposed in moments like these it was his turn to lead you instead. He walked you to the bathroom, holding your hand. And he didn’t even comment on the snot you left on his shirt, which was a great show of understanding on his part — as far as he was concerned — although he did take it off and throw it in the laundry basket as soon as the two of you entered the bathroom. All his love for you didn’t mean he’d be okay running about in a snotted-up shirt.

He sat you down on the floor near the bathtub and filled it with water. He smelled each of the new scented oils with great consideration. The last thing you probably wanted at the moment was having to pick which oil to put in your bath, so he wanted to make the choice for you — and to make the right one.

After the bath was all prepared, Astarion helped you out of your clothes and walked you to the corner of the bathroom, where he washed most of the dirt off your skin. Making sure you could properly relax also meant making sure you wouldn’t be soaking in dirty water, after all.

Soon enough, you were sitting in the bathtub with your eyes closed. Right after helping you inside the bath, Astarion ran off to grab your favorite hairbrush. And now, he busied himself with detangling the mess your hair had become over the course of your day. He talked and talked all the while — about his day, about this awful thief he managed to thwart the other night, about the shopping trip he went on the day before — about everything and nothing, just to keep talking. Just to fill the silence with noise that would drown out your screaming, tired mind. He didn’t expect you to answer; it was enough that you listened.

After your hair was brushed, washed and conditioned, Astarion dried you off and brought you a freshly washed set of pajamas.

‘You need to sleep, darling,’ he said, handing you the clothes. He knew you were far too tired to argue with him on that. As endearing as your usual desire to stay up with him for as long as possible was, you needed rest — badly.

‘Will you stay with me?’ you said. You felt much better now that all the grime was off of you, but the thought of laying in bed alone made you want to cry all over again.

‘As if I’d ever leave,’ scoffed Astarion as he took your hand again, leading you out of the bathroom.

The coldness of his bare chest was a much needed comfort. You nuzzled closer to him as he threw a thick blanket over the two of you. He reached over to his bedside table.

‘I could read for you, if you’d like.’

You mumbled out a ‘yes’. Your eyelids were so very heavy, but the idea of hearing Astarion’s voice rumble in his chest right against your cheek sounded lovely.

He chuckled to himself. ‘You’re adorable when you’re tired.’

He started reading. You weren’t really paying attention to what he was reading, rather to the sound of his voice itself. The individual words and sentences blurred into one, continuous rumble. Listening to him speak felt like falling deeper and deeper into a pile of the softest pillows.

You were out before Astarion could finish the first fifteen pages of the book. He noticed by the end of page twenty. When he did, he gently put away the book and held you tighter against him. And he may or may not have left a few kisses on your forehead, but that’s neither here nor there.

Astarion got comforting you down to a science. And he was damn proud that he was the one you trusted to comfort you in the first place.

#astarion x tav #astarion x reader #gn!reader #gn!tav #unnamed tav #fluff #domestic fluff #hurt/comfort #fluff and angst #bg3 #astarion #my writing #bg3 astarion #bg3 x tav #bg3 x reader #astarion ancunin #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 astarion #second person pov

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justporo · 8 months

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Bedroom Hymns

A still empty new home somwhere in the Upper City of Baldur's Gate. Nothing but a big mattress on the floor of your bedroom where Astarion and you have spent some days already, mostly naked, just indulging in whatever you want - and each other of course, whenever the flames started blazing. This time a spark is ignited when Astarion sees how his old shirt looks on you, how well it suits you. (NSFW)

PART 2 | MASTERLIST | AO3

Author's Note: This is... just dirty smut. I have been thinking about writing this for literal months. But I'm happy I did because when Tav describes how she's become more confident? That's me just describing how I feel about writing smut. And yes, there will be a second part - with even more. Happy 2k followers, my dear horny gremlins!

Pairing: Astarion/Fem!Tav (You) Warnings: explicit sexual content, oral sex (female receiving), premature orgasm, light dom/sub dynamic (if you squint but really they're both just taking the piss out of each other) Wordcount: 4,5k ~~~

A lot of things in your life had gone wrong - more than you could possibly ever count. Sometimes you had even wondered how you had even survived this far. In the last couple of months you had asked yourself that question quite a lot actually.

But then some things had gone very right. Often without you even knowing what was in store for you beforehand.

As you laid on your side on a single thick plush mattress in a massive room with deep red silk tapestries on the wall and polished wooden floors, high ceilings adorned with a shimmering and glittering chandelier in your newly acquired home in Baldur’s Gate, you realised that this was one of those things that had gone terribly right.

But all this wasn't even the best. The best thing that had - quite frankly - ever happened to you was lying right next to you: almost completely naked, only partly covered by some blankets and sheets, just as you were, and at the moment lecturing you on the importance of a coherent design concerning furniture, decor and colours. Long, elegant fingers waved around, gesticulating while full, soft lips kept moving, often smiling - occasionally allowing sharp fangs to be seen beneath - and red eyes began to glow whenever their gaze fell on you.

A small lantern was bathing the large and tall room in some cosy orange light - barely reaching the far corners of the room. It was almost reminiscent of all the nights you had spent in camp with nothing but the moon, stars and a crackling campfire for light. The mattress though was easily an impressive upgrade from your tattered bedrolls despite it being the only piece of furnishing the two of you currently owned.

You had stopped paying attention a fair while ago while Astarion kept waving his arms around, looking from you - softly nodding in agreement without hearing the words - to the ceiling and around the empty room. His curls were delightfully messed up and unorderly, making him look even more handsome for how at ease he was. And the easy smile that didn't seem to leave his lips these days, took quite a lot of those torturous years right off his face.

Your heart fluttered every time he looked over at you, with his bright red eyes sparkling at you and his smile involuntarily growing even broader.

And you saw the rest too: how he elegantly gesticulated with those skilled hands, how the muscles in his arms and chest flexed as he couldn't be bothered to keep still for just a second, the room never silent as long as he was there. You had fallen into easy, natural companionship with each other - as if you’d known each other for centuries already.

What choices you had made to end up right here, right now, you didn’t know. But you surely wouldn’t have changed a thing if this was to be the glorious result.

“Wouldn't you agree, my heart?” Astarion asked you, halting his ongoing infodump. He was looking at you. And by the way one of his eyebrows was raised critically he must have noticed your lapse in attention.

But in your defence, the way his lower abdomen disappeared in the sheets he had carelessly wrapped around his hips - at a very low point - would have distracted just about anyone. The way the lines of his muscles defined his lower body. Especially those two converging lines, starting at his slender hips, then going lower, leading to his…

Astarion cleared his throat. You'd been distracted yet again.

“Darling, you have all the time in the world for staring, you don't need to get it done all at once.”

“I like being a step or two ahead though, love.”

The vampire scoffed and crossed his arms over his chest in annoyance. You saw how it made his muscles contract just a tad and you bit your lip unconsciously.

“I know, darling, you're so diligent. But my eyes are up here, my sweet,” he answered. You heard the vicious teasing in his tone.

You ripped your gaze from his delectable torso and let it wander to his equally delectable face. He was grinning wolfishly at you, one eyebrow twitching up playfully. And now you couldn't help but blush a little. He often had that effect on you.

Astarion simply liked being looked at, and you - well - liked looking at him. But in his defence, he was also very good at reversing the roles, making you flustered whenever he couldn’t tear his eyes from you in return as if undressing you and having you right then and there in his mind even when you were in public. With the way he stared at you now, eyes slowly becoming half-lidded, you also had a fair idea where his mind was going right now.

Your vampire slowly turned to lay on his side, propping up his head on his arm, mirroring your pose exactly. A few of his curls were falling into his face when he slowly leaned forward, his smile already telling you what he was about. Some rustling you heard made you aware that the sheets around his hips were moving when he did. Your eyes flicked downward.

A small involuntary gasp left your lips when you noticed that the fabric had slipped even lower, the man now even more precariously covered than before. Your thoughts immediately took a tumble and stopped being coherent.

Astarion clicked his tongue, his free hand grabbed your chin firmly and made you look at him once more: “Love, we really need to talk about the fact how you lose the ability to focus so quickly.” The wolfish grin was back and he even leaned in a little bit closer still, causing the sheets to slide down just a bit more. A desperate noise caught deep in your throat.

You coughed.

“In my defence, Astarion, you’re almost completely naked”, you whispered as his smirking lips hovered over yours.

“So are you, darling, but you don’t see me losing focus, do you?” Astarion replied, his voice dropping low until it was merely more than a rumble. His crimson eyes took their time as they wandered over every single one of your elegant curves. His tongue darted out to wet his lips unconsciously while with his eyes he devoured your naked body outlining against the dark of the room with the help of warm lantern light sharply illuminating the details of your form.

You swallowed and felt some pressure forming between your legs. The kind you had felt relentlessly almost all the time since you had fallen onto this single piece of furnishing you had bought so far for your new home.

By now it must have been a couple of days of the two of you just hanging out barely clothed in your new almost empty bedroom - just the huge mattress on the floor. And once you had fallen onto it, you hadn’t seen any sense in getting up again. Everything you needed was right there with you.

You had talked even more in the last couple of days than you had ever before. You had taken each other whenever lust had overcome you. And you had just allowed the exhaustion of months and months of fights, adventures and not knowing if you would live to see another sunrise to slowly leave both your bodies. Just sinking into the soft bedding, knowing you could let yourself fall fully with each other around, relaxing and recovering.

Well, you almost didn’t leave the makeshift bed. Only when some carnal urges, that Astarion very unfortunately couldn’t fulfil all by himself, were reminding you that you were still just a mortal did you get up and snuck out of the room. Always coming back to Astarion dramatically claiming he'd barely survived without your attention when you fell back into his arms on return.

Unfortunately you felt some of those urges creeping up on you this very moment, as Astarion was leaning in, about to initiate what surely would become another mind bending tumble in the sheets. But this would have to wait - at least for a few moments now.

And also he could get his ego knocked down a bit for being all too cocky just a few moments ago.

When the vampire was about to close his eyes to kiss you, you rolled back. And with that movement grabbed the blanket that was covering you and threw it at Astarion’s expectant face. As you heard him hiss you slid off the mattress with a cackle and grabbed the first piece of clothing you saw before you quickly, with bare feet, ran to slip out of the bedroom. The vampire ripped the blanket off his face, got to his knees and tried to grab you before you could leave his den but you were just as quick as him.

You heard Astarion curse under his breath but you were already closing the door behind you. The last thing the vampire saw of you, was how you had pulled on his old shirt and how it didn’t fully cover your butt as you slipped out the door, leaving barely anything to his vivid imagination.

Astarion cursed you under his breath and remained kneeling there, a martyr forced to give up his everything (temporarily). At least the view could have been worse. Thinking about how you had looked in his shirt immediately sent a jolt between his legs, making his length throb with need for you as he sat there and mourned the temporary loss of his lover. Only his imaginative mind kept him company until you came back.

When you returned shortly after you had brought a bottle of wine and two chalices (only bought yesterday on a whim) to make up for your rash departure. You slowly opened the door with your bare foot since both your hands were full and found Astarion exactly as you left him.

He was kneeling on the mattress still, the sheets draped over his thighs almost artfully, only barely covering him now. His hands were placed palm up on his wide spread legs, almost as if he was in prayer. And fitting with this was his bowed head, eyes closed, his ruffled curls covering part of his beautiful face.

Ethereal was the only word you could think of at that moment. Astarion looked like the statue of a forgotten god with how he knelt there: every single detail crafted to perfection. The light of the lantern illuminated every line of his naked body, giving the illusion of being carved out of immaculate marble capturing every single one of his sharp lines that worked so well in contrast to your softer ones.

And for some reason it seemed this unreal looking being had chosen to come down from his place among all other divine powers to bow down at your feet. And more even: he had devoted himself to you, body and soul, for the rest of his immortal days to lavishly praise you with all he had to offer.

You gasped as you took him in. Almost not being able to believe how you had gotten so lucky.

The vampire’s head snapped up when he heard the soft, low sound. The illusion of a statue, forever held captive in stone in perfect but lifeless detail, was broken. But the actual thing was so much better anyways. Astarion’s crimson eyes glinted at you in the low light, his body flexed, stone becoming liquid, while you slowly closed the door behind you again.

The vampire eyed you, drinking in the view of you wearing his shirt now being allowed more than just a glimpse: the sleeves sliding down your arms and bunching up around the elbows, the way the fabric spanned over your hips and thighs.

But mostly the vampire was mesmerised by how your breasts outlined against this old shirt of his: part of them obscured by the ruffles, but especially their peaks - hardened by the cold air - were clearly visible to him and made Astarion lose his focus for once. Seeing you this way immediately made lust rise up within him way more than any fantasy could, causing his length between his legs to twitch and slowly harden.

Feeling the tension in the room shift remarkably, you slowly stepped closer to your makeshift bed again. You saw desire light up the vampire’s eyes as he kept gazing upon you. His lips had parted and his expression spoke of nothing but hunger for you as he couldn’t get enough of the view of you wearing his clothes.

Maybe he wasn’t so much a heavenly being that had descended to you but something out of the most fiercely burning part of the hells, ready to drag you down with him and never let you leave again. You swallowed and felt how the vampire’s heated gaze alone made you feel a little hazy.

Had you known it was this easy to turn the table on Astarion in his own little game, you would have done this much earlier. And oh, what irony that while you could barely form a coherent thought once the vampire was naked before you, for him it was you putting on his old, almost threadbare camp shirt that seemingly made the pale elf forget everything else but how good it looked on you. And what it meant to him: that you were his.

The intensity on his face as he kept staring at you without moving was almost predator like and made you rub your thighs together in a desperate attempt to control the beginning pulses between your legs. But the damage was already done. And as if emboldened by the vampire’s attention you felt your hardening nipples rub against the fabric of Astarion’s shirt, pronouncing them even more and making you overly aware of them.

“Come here, darling,” the pale elf asked of you, lazily stretching out an arm towards you. All you could do in response was helplessly wave the bottle of wine and the chalices around, because some pragmatic part in your brain was still working and telling you that your hands were still full.

Astarion frowned slightly at you, annoyed by the delay in you obeying his demand.

“Put it down and then come here,” he ordered in a brisker tone now, you saw his gaze darkening as he almost growled at you.

And of course you followed his demand. There was nothing more you wanted actually as you looked down upon your nearly naked lover before you - demanding you join him again in your bed.

Hastily, you placed down the bottle and the cups and then moved over to Astarion. He was stretching out his arms to you, motioning to you to come sit on his lap.

You didn’t hesitate, but you didn’t rush either now. You placed one on one of his thighs, causing the fabric of his shirt to ride up your thigh so much that you were sure that he must be able to see your swelling core from his position. Immediately one of his hands slid up your pointed foot and over your shin, around to your calf, squeezing the muscle lightly, before it went on to the sensitive underside of your bare thigh.

And of course his eyes were immediately drawn to you bared before him, almost hypnotised and making a grunt catch in his throat at the sight of what you had to offer him. His crimson gaze found yours, his brows drawn together. You stayed like this in a moment of perfect stillness as you kept looking at each other, knowing that you’d be doomed to be each other’s continuous downfall. Then Astarion bit his lips, one canine catching on his bottom lip, his gaze falling back to what lay beneath your legs.

This alone was getting you so worked up that you let your head roll back and allowed a small but desperate moan to leave your lips. Astarion laughed softly at that, his fingers digging into the soft flesh. You moaned again and enjoyed the content humming you earned in response to your openly shown pleasure.

Months ago you would have been way too hesitant to act like this - not directly ashamed but surely too shy to really express yourself, to fully indulge. But Astarion had surely made your confidence rise to unknown heights with the way he always praised you, how he hungered for you and always made it known how much he desired you. And with teaching and showing you what pleasures he could let you have if only you trusted him. And you had done that from the beginning, your belief in him stronger than better judgement.

So there you were, spreading yourself to your lover, while you could observe his cock beginning to twitch below the thin sheets. This with how the corners of his mouth curled up into an almost feral grin was more than enough proof that you’d been doing it right, that he’d taught you well.

It made you feel powerful, knowing how you could make him lust for you. And it heightened your own pleasure knowing how easily you could turn him on.

“Darling,” Astarion mumbled, the tip of his tongue running over his bottom lip as you saw him basically salivating at the sight of you becoming a drenched mess for him, “would you mind coming just a little bit closer?” His gaze flicked from your core to you and then back down. He was eager and insatiable.

“Say please?”

His gaze snapped to yours, eyes narrowed while you grinned, both of you remembering a specific moment months ago when you had teased him just like that. And just like back then he would make you regret it later.

He rolled his head around, loosened his shoulders with an annoyed, dramatic sight.

“Please”, he basically purred when his head came back around.

Oh sure, if he was nice like that, you would come closer. You gave him a pleased smile and withdrew your leg from his, making Astarion’s unwilling hand drop to his thigh while he criticised the loss with a disgruntled groan. But you moved quickly to make up for it.

You stepped on the mattress, already incredibly close to him and enjoyed how attentively he stared up at you, patiently awaiting you now. It was almost fooling you how obediently he had been so far, how he waited for you. But seeing the mischievous sparkle in his ruby eyes and his signature smirk play on his lips told you that he was only playing coy until he had you where he wanted you.

Still you drew out the moment, enjoying your moment of having the upper hand. You let one hand enter his already dishevelled hair and began caressing his scalp with slow circles of your fingertips.

“You’re such a good, patient boy today, Astarion,” you teased him sweetly as you watched his eyes roll back from your soft, sensual caress. One eyebrow twitched at your praise. You knew he liked being praised. But then his gaze snapped back and his hands shot around your legs and pulled you in close against him by grabbing your butt.

You yelped and almost lost balance. Your hands searched for hold on his naked shoulders and the vampire had you firmly in his grasp. His splayed fingers squeezing your buttcheeks, half-covered by the shirt. He pressed his face between your legs. His long, straight nose almost already reached the swelling, sensitive bud there.

A helpless whimper escaped you and Astarion lifted his face again.

“Not so feisty now, are we? Don’t make me become impatient with you, sweetheart,” he told you in a mocking tone, pursing his lips, enjoying the view of you above him and emphasising his point with a firm slap on your butt. You merely gasped in response. Your mind was still trying to catch up.

“Now, move!”, he commanded with another low growl and wasted no time by moving one of your thighs to lift up your leg and placing it on his shoulder. You were balancing on one leg now. But your vampire was holding you securely, both hands on your ass again and pulling you as close as possible.

The fabric had already bunched up over your spread thigh now but you saw the unspoken command in Astarion’s narrowed eyes as he positioned you on himself and you lifted the shirt higher with one hand while letting the other enter his hair again.

And then Astarion wasted no more precious time and pressed his face between your legs again - now with no more fabric getting in his way. The tip of his tongue immediately and effortlessly found your pulsating clit and began working on it while his hands squeezed your butt deliciously.

Without hesitation he pressed his open mouth to your heated core, sucking on it and his tongue circling over and around the sensitive peak there, sending a million little lightning jolts through your body that quickly became stronger, conjuring a thunderstorm.

You moaned loudly now, not being able to control any of it anymore. Your hand formed a fist in his hair, nails scratching his scalp, which he answered with a pleased growl and pressing his tongue even harder against your clit.

He drove you up that mountain so quickly and violently you began seeing stars already while he kept pleasuring you with his eager mouth. The way he sucked on you, let his tongue slide between your folds and inside of you, having you almost fully climb onto his face, and the way you felt even his fangs graze you ever so lightly at your most sensitive part made you quickly lose all control.

Somewhere in the back of your mind clouded with boundless lust you were thankful that he held you so firmly it hurt, because your legs were both shaking uncontrollably the longer and fiercer he kept going. With glazed over eyes you allowed yourself to look down and enjoy the view of your lover devouring you as if he had been only put on this plane of existence to please you in this way. It amplified the pressure you felt building up in your lower body tenfold.

You neared the edge at breakneck speed. And your body was desperate for release, knowing the orgasm would be vicious. But there was something else you wanted. Instinctively you knew that he himself must be aching. You didn’t need to see his massive erection straining the sheets around his hips and the telltale wet spot at its peak to know that it was there - and to know that you wanted to feel him inside of you.

“Astarion,” you groaned breathlessly and used the rest of your control to pull on his hair. But you achieved nothing, merely making him almost purr from the exquisite pain you inflicted by pulling on his hair. He slapped your ass again. So hard you knew it would leave his handprint on your delicate skin this time. That and the sting from it made you bite your lip to barely stifle another desperate moan.

And then the last of your ability to form a simple coherent thought crumbled, the sheer, primal lust inside you taking over when Astarion changed the pace to some slow, hard movements with the tip of his tongue directly over your swollen clit. You gave in to it.

It was inevitable anyway. Only a few more flicks of the vampire’s skilled tongue and you were falling, your cunt throbbing violently despite nothing to clench around.

Your hand was tugging hard on Astarion’s hair again, making him growl. Your face was contorted in overpowering pleasure as the stars you had seen before blew up to a whole firmament and made you lose your vision for a moment from how bright everything had become. Breathless, almost soundless noises left your wide open mouth as you scattered into a million pieces. And only Astarion’s firm arms around you made sure they would all stick together again once you would come down from your own galaxy again.

The vampire kept going for a few more swipes, pushing you just a tad further before it became fully unbearable and then withdrew to enjoy the fruits of his labour, your wetness coating his lips and chin. He absent-mindedly lapped it up as well as possible while he kept watching you writhe from the ecstasy he had provided you with.

When you had come back down enough from the high again to feel your own body, you slowly let your head fall forward again. Your legs felt weak and wobbly just as the rest of your body. You looked at your eager lover, who was licking up some of you from his lips still. Astarion looked mightily pleased with himself.

“That’s what you get for making me impatient, love,” he simply said and grinned haughtily, cocking his head as if he hadn’t just given you one of the most violent orgasms you had ever experienced - and hadn’t even allowed you to lay down for it.

He softly eased your leg off his shoulder but held you securely still to make sure you didn’t topple over. You softly tugged on his curls now and kept looking at him while still trying to catch your breath. The vampire placed soft kisses down the front of your shivering thighs after you had let the shirt drop again, his hands were carefully massaging your behind and the back of your thighs.

“Shame though,” you let out between gasps of air, “I would have loved to feel you inside of me.” You said it while you eyed his erect dick between his spread legs. The sight alone enough to get some pressure back up in your lower abdomen - despite your core still lazily throbbing from your last orgasm.

That made Astarion’s head snap back up again, his eyes sparkling at you as if asking how you still dared to talk back to him after what he had just made you experience. Then he closed his eyes and softly shook his head while his smirk turned wicked.

“Oh sweet darling,” he began and opened his eyes slowly to look at you from under his brows. His eyes were dark and the tip of his tongue darted out to lick over his lips focus wholly on you. The smirk grew even broader until you saw his fangs glint in the low lantern light.

His gaze was piercing, and his hands were once more squeezing your butt until it hurt pleasantly, plugging a whimper from you. You asked yourself if it had been clever to provoke a vampire who must be burning up with pleasure by now and aching for his own release judging by how you saw his erection twitch forcefully between his legs even with the fabric of the sheet covering it.

“What made you think I was even close to being done with you, my heart?”

PART 2

Taglist (DM if you want to be added please): @spacebarbarianweird @sunfire-ancunin @tragedybunny @dependsonthedream @tallymonster @magazzne @micropoe10 @aoirohi @my-bunny-prince @lumienyx @fayeriess @darlingxdragon @hereliesblackdragon @ayselluna @ajokeformur-ray @i-cant-get-into-my-other-account @rikuyrk06

#astarion #baldur's gate 3 #astarion ancunin #fanfiction #astarion x tav #bg3 spoilers #baldur's gate iii #baldurs gate #astarion x mc #astarion x oc #astarion x you #astarion x reader #bg3

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tonyboneysblog · 4 months

Text

MOTHER HEN: PART SEVEN

parings: hawks x mother!reader

wordcount: 3.2k

warnings: none

notes: daddy’s…home? genuinely so excited to write the next chapter cause if you notice the timeline, something big is coming😈😈

summary: you, the mother of Fumikage Tokoyami, are just a simple nurse! Who caught the eye of a certain pro.

You haven’t gotten a text from hawks in the past four days, which puts you in a sour mood.

technically it’s a little bit of your fault for kissing his forehead- but if the little shit would have just let you explain…

what’s even worse is that your unable to watch the sports festival- fucking hospital job.

And when you finally get home from that hellhole, Fumikage will be sassy cause you weren’t able to watch him.

He wouldn’t be angry just..slightly disappointed?

Then when you cuddled up in your nest yesterday you see that damned hawks plush you spent 30 dollars on…

So here you are at this amazing place of work! against your will of course.

Currently you’re at the water station- until you were rudely pulled away due to a pro hero getting hurt…as usual.

You open the door to see a younger, dark skinned woman with white hair and the cutest bunny ears on her head.

She looks at you and starts waving happily…your heart would feel warm if it weren’t for the blood on her face.

“Names Mirko!” Oh, you know her! Your sister used to be obsessed with her…well for a short period of time but still obsessed no the less.

“Mirko, how you feeling today?”

She sends you a thumbs up, “terrible!”

You chuckle softly and walk over towards her, accompanying another one of the doctors.

“What’s her condition?”

The doctor sighs, “nothing too serious, we ought to check her for a concussion though..and she’ll have to at least spend one night here.”

“With those injuries it should be longer no?”

The doctor shakes his head, “can’t keep Mirko tied down for too long.” Then proceeds to just…walk out.

But Mirko doesn’t let it stay too quiet.

“So, your name is?”

You smile softly, “ Y/N Tokoyami.”

Mirko looks like she’s pondering for a moment..looks as if she knows you from somewhere.

“I swear I’ve heard that name before..” she says quietly.

You smile again, “you probably have, so is there anything you need?”

Mirko puts her attention back onto you, “nah, I’ll be alright.”

“Really, Why’d the doctor call me in then?”

“Because I complained my ass hurt, I’ve been laying in bed all day.”

You chuckle, “that all?”

She nods her head quickly.

“Well, let’s hope you don’t get a bed sore kay?” You shoot a thumbs up towards her, same she did to you earlier.

Then you walk out, wondering why she even needed you…

But Mirko knew why, hawks told her you were nurse and she wanted to she what all the fuss was about.

Truthfully, he’d been talking about you every time she saw him while on patrol.

She supposes his ramblings are correct, you’re cute.

Then again Mirko has never really pinned hawks as the mamas boy type, and you echo the motherly type.

But you’re sweet, maybe that’s why he’s so attracted to you?

So, Mirko pulls out her phone to bother hawks about his little high school boy crush.

she took it the the group chat though, little asshole.

BEST PROS.

carrot foot

Found ur gf hawks

caw caw bitch

what

caw caw bitch

where

jorts

who?

carrot foot

Hospital

INCOMING FACETIME CALL

Mirko sighs and answers it.

“Where is she, she look cute?” Hawks says frantically.

Mirko shakes her head, “again hawks, get a grip.”

Mirko can hear the wind howling into the phone, of course hawks is flying while on the phone.

“Answer me.” Hawks says sternly.

Mirko immediately starts rambling about the very small amount of information she has on you, “Damn you got a mommy kink or something, cause that woman is a MILF. I mean M.I.L.F.”

“What- what the hell does…no?” Mirko can pick on hawks confusion through the phone.

“Hawks, man, that woman echos mother. Here she is mothering throughout the halls of a hospital!”

“Mirko, what’s your point here.”

“I mean she’s hot dude, get your head in the game…or in her i don’t-“

Mirko can then her hawks yelling loudly out of shock, “GROSS MIRKO, DONT MAKE JOKES LIKE-“

If he yelled any louder you could probably hear him in the halls.

Mirko laughs loudly, “Don’t get your panties in a twist, I’m joking.”

Then there’s an uncomfortable silence on the phone, a little too long for comfort.

but then of course hawks breaks it- as him usually does.

“I mean, I wouldn’t mind…”

Mirko starts laughing again, “aha! Damn dirty bird- go get your wings ruffled elsewhere man!”

Hawks responds quickly, ignoring Mirko comment.

“I gotta go- I see a best jeanist and I’d like to go pull his ear.”

Mirko huffs, “fine, but he isn’t your wingman-I am.”

Hawks laughs softly and hangs up, leaving Mirko in silence.

Until you walk in.

“Oh, there’s my favorite nurse!” She beams.

“Do you mind if I watch the sports festival in here? My kids in it..”

Mirko nods her head, “I don’t mind- need to look for recruits anyways.”

So, there you and Mirko sit watching the sports festival together.

Many times throughout it you had to put a hand over your mouth to keep yourself from screaming and alerting the others your not technically working at the moment.

but during every break in the sports festival, you rushed and did your actual duties as quickly as you could.

Then when you came back, and the 1V1 battles have already started.

And of course your gorgeous boy conquers and destroys the competition.

One after another, what was most surprising to you was seeing todorokis and midoriyas fight, aggressive and raw.

made you vividly remember that was the boy who tripped on his own ice..

You were a little scared that’d he have to face your Fumikage.

Instead it was Katsuki Bakugo who faced him, and after that fight he’ll be the only kid who doesn’t get your end-of-semester cookies.

I mean cmon! Grabbing your son by the beak?! Unbelievable…angers you to your core because who does he think he is?!

But it’s fine.

Fumikage would’ve won if it were anyone else.

But Fumikage still got third, and you can shove it in all your friend’s faces that your son is awesome and that they could never.

Because Fumikage is one of a kind.

You look over to Mirko after jumping for joy for your son’s new shiny medal.

“He’s a good fighter, y’know I know someone all birdy like that.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yea, hawks.” She says bluntly.

You can feel the color drain from your face, hawks low key, high key broke your heart after your last interaction.

“Oh… well I’m sure Fumikage will consider an invitation from him.- if he wanted to work with him.” You say while tapping your fingers together.

Mirko pulls out her phone, typing something, you don’t know exactly what but…it’s whatever.

carrot foot

yea your cooked bud

caw caw bitch

what

Mirko seats down her phone next to the table, where you can hear it buzzing loudly…

“Uhm are you gonna check that?” You say nervously.

“Nah, he’s fine.” She says as she finally relaxes into the bed she had been complaining about all day apparently.

“Ah…okay?” You then hop out of the seat, making your way back to your work.

You should get him an apple pie to celebrate, or maybe just straight apples cause Fumikage will go crazy either way.

Hawks briefly crossed your mind again, what was his favorite again? Wasn’t apples you know what…it was probably something dumb- just like him…

dumb, dumb, dumb man.

enough of him, you have work to do…

right after you call Fumikage!

It rings, but he doesn’t answer? Which is weird because Fumikage always answers his phone unless it’s dead.

Yes that’s probably why, he’ll call you right back when it charges.

But Fumikages phone was in-fact not dead, he was just…distracted?

Fumikages eyes squint slightly, “What could you possibly want.”

It’s hawks he’s being so standoffish with, but hawks just sends him a soft smile.

“It’s the sports festival, of course I’d be here.”

“You decide to stalk me instead of my mother?”

Hawks goes quiet, his carefree smile faltering.

“Not exactly..we got in a small spat.”

“If you’re trying to get me to talk to her for you, it’s not gonna work.” Fumikage starts to walk away before hawks grabs his shoulder.

Then dark shadow comes out.

Hawks steps off slightly, “that’s kinda freaky…”

“Kinda like your face.”

Dark shadow looks over to Fumikage, “that wasn’t even a good comeback.”

“Shut up dark shadow.”

Dark shadow scoffs and folds his cute little shadow arms with what looks to be a pout on his face.

Hawks face completely loses the carefree smile, “I’m serious when I say I’m not here for you…well not technically.”

“What do you mean by that.”

“Yea, what do you-“

“Dark shadow…”

Hawks lets out a small breath, “I was interested in you being my sidekick due to the skills you showed off on the fie-“

“Not interested” Fumikage says curtly.

Dark shadow whips his head over to look at Fumikage with surprise, whispering something in his ear.

“He’s number three- you can’t just reject an offer from him!”

“I can, and I just did.”

Then it’s silent, Fumikage doesn’t mind though.

Hawks sighs softly, putting back on the smile Fumikage hates so much.

“Well if you ever rethink it, my agency will always be open.”

“I hope retribution comes for you in the darkness of your home.”

Hawks stays quiet but then his face twists into confusion, “what does that even mean..?”

Fumikage huffs and if he had hair he would most likely flip it whilst walking away.

Fumikage leaves hawks standing outside, utterly confused in what Fumikage was even talking about.

Maybe that’s what you meant when you said Fumikage was unique…

speaking of you, you were still at that darn hospital.

Fumikage was aware of that, you always worked a lot but the times that you weren’t working you tried your best to spend them with him.

Until Mr. Pro-Hero decided to come into your life..

The first time Fumikage really noticed your relationship with hawks was when you had the talk on the balcony.

He knew he wasn’t going crazy when he thought someone was under a blanket, a blanket you don’t even use may he add.

Then the next day when he went up to your balcony, the blanket was in-fact no where to found.

Then he caught him in your kicthen, Fumikage debated on even eating the cookies because maybe hawks terrible aura rubbed off on them.

They were delicious but that’s not the point!

Then hawks wanders into Fumikages home, which was locked, uninvited looking for you.

Only time Fumikage could tolerate hawks was when he had to save you from the bar.

But then his tolerance shot down when he walked in on the two of you coddling each other.

Then he heard the “little spat” you and hawks had which is why he rushed into your room so fast.

Honestly, who does that damn fowl think he is?!

Fumikage explains all of this to poor dark shadow, who truly just wanted to watch a movie with him.

“Sounds rough.” Dark shadow says quietly.

Fumikage huffs, “It’s worse than rough dark shadow, it’s appalling.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t be so…extreme with hawks- Momma seems to like him.”

“Correction, liked, my mother will never participate in any romances with that man again.”

Fumikage ends the conversation there, but dark shadow would like to expand on the topic.

“It was nice of hawks to offer you that side kick position.”

“well being nice doesn’t cut it.”

Finally, the conversation about hawks is finished, Fumikage only ranted for 4 hours this time!

And he’d finished 3 movies in that time as well…maybe the hospital will let you off early.

So Fumikage and dark shadow fight the urge to rest, which they both utterly fail and fall asleep on the couch.

You come in around 5:30 so they never stood a chance, not after the day Fumikage had.

You walk into the door, spotting only Fumikage.

You stumble over towards him, sitting on the floor and brushing your hand through his feathers.

Fumikage is knocked out, so he won’t wake up if you pick him up.

You use all your remaining strength to pick Fumikage up, making your way towards your bedroom.

It’s been a minute since Fumikage got cuddles from his mama.

And also you seriously doubt you could carry Fumikage back to his room, then walk back to yours without passing out onto the floor.

You place Fumikage under the warm covers, then yourself.

You then wrap your hands around Fumikage as tightly as you possible could, as if someone would take him away if you didn’t.

Then you rest, same as Fumikage.

Same as hawks.

And hawks truly needs to thank you for whatever you did to make him stop having those nightmares.

barely dreams now, and if he does it’s always weird shit.

usually has you in it too.

nevermind, you probably cursed him and overrode whatever put that nightmare spell on him.

a curse that just makes him dream about you.

Now he really wishes he talked Mirko into getting a picture of you, he misses you bad.

Maybe a text wouldn’t hurt? No, too risky- you’re probably still mad at him.

Maybe he could worm his way back into your life with that weighted blanket, if his plan worked he could probably steal it back anyways.

It still smells like you, which is weird because he’s had it for awhile.

That’s probably his favorite part of the day now, getting home, taking a shower, cuddling into his mostly bare bed and just sniffing that shit like it’s coke.

Kinda like how some people spray lavender onto their beds to get sleepy, he just smells the hell out of that blanket.

He wishes he was able to snatch another item from your house that smelled like you.

Fumikage doesn’t really smell like you, he noticed.

He smells kinda like wood? And also a little fruity too.

You wouldn’t really guess fruits and flowers from looking at him but maybe your scent rubbed off on him too.

Honestly, hawks kinda feels like Edward when Bella first walked into that classroom though- hawks wouldn’t be covering his mouth to avoid the smell, he would be INHALING that smell.

He would never admit that the night that he comforted you out on that balcony he didn’t even go home and change, he kept that uniform on.

The coat didn’t truly smell like you, but the under shirt did.

Maybe he’s going a little crazy, sure he’s real kept together most the time but- the things you do to that poor man.

And Mirko- peacefully sleeping in the hospital, she may be hawks wingman but she needs her rest too!

And when you wake, you’ll have to go right back to the hospital.

doesn’t men’s you can’t talk to your son before you leave though.

“Mama.” Fumikage says sleepily, awoken from you moving all around the room.

You perk up now your son’s awake, “Fumikage?”

Fumikages eyes a still closed, fighting to go back to sleep.

“Did you see me, in the sports festival?”

You run your hands through Fumikages feathers, “Course’ I did.”

Fumikage smiles softly, “guess who talked to me after..?”

“All might? I saw it on-“

“No it was hawks, invited me for an internship.”

You jaw slacks slightly, “did you accept?”

“No, not after what he’s done.” Fumikage says with a little rasp in his own voice.

“You should’ve.”

“What?”

You sigh, “hawks is number three- doesn’t matter what he did to me Fumikage.

Fumikage stays silent, suddenly now regretting telling you.

“But…”

You kiss his temple, “thank you for thinking about how I’d feel though. Don’t let my emotions or relationships get in the way of your future.”

Fumikage nods, understanding your point of view.

“Are you leaving for work?”

“Yep, it’s not a long shift though.”

You open your bedroom door, “I’ll see you later, Fumi.”

Then walking out of your own house, making your way to the hospital.

Once you walk in, your infact greeted with Mirko!

and hawks.

“Ah, my favorite nurse!” Mirko cheers excitedly.

“Mirko! Shouldn’t you still be on bed rest?”

Mirko chuckles, “glad you’re worried about me toots.”

You gasp a small bit at the nickname, “Oh!”

Mirko places her hand onto her hip, “Hey, didn’t I see you hear like 7 hours ago, why you already back?”

“Duty calls?”

Hawks chuckles at that, wasn’t even funny.

Mirko throws an arm around hawks, “this was the birdy boy I was talking about!”

“We’ve met.”

suddenly there was an awkward silence.

Hawks wanted to throw himself out a window, you wouldn’t even look at him.

Mirko taps her foot nervously.

“Hawks…” you say his name softly.

His head perks up form Mirko hold, “yeah?”

“Sorry that Fumikage rejected you…I know how he is.”

Hawks can feel his heart beating in his ears, “it’s all good- doors always open.”

You nod softly, looking away.

The three of you just stand there in silence, Mirko foot tapping repeats.

Then she breaks, “Mrs Tokoyami, sorry for holding you up-You got a job to do!”

You jump in surprise, “ah- your right, it was nice talking to you both!”

You quickly walk away to clock in, Mirko and hawks make there way outside.

She scoffs, “had the perfect opportunity.”

Hawks rolls his eyes, “I wasn’t gonna apologize to her in a hospital.

“I’m going to put you in the hospital/ what the hell even was that back there?!” Mirko exclaims.

Hawks pushes her arm away, “I was nervous.”

“Doors always open!” Mirko mocks him.

“Oh quiet down.”

“I’m your wingwoman- giving you a perfect chance and you fuck it all up.”

“It wasn’t that bad-“

Mirko smacks the back of his head, “Hawks, shut your trap.”

Hawks doesn’t reply, walking next to Mirko throughout the less populated areas of town.

Mirko snaps her fingers, “You know what, I can fix this.”

“You can?”

“Of course I can, I’m Mirko.”

Hawks groans softly, already annoyed by the days events.

Mirko starts her plan, “clearly she cares a good bit about her son-but there feeling are mostly separated for different things.”

Hawks nods along.

“So instead of getting all cushy with her son again, you need to fix it with her- clearly your not gonna getting through with her son based on what you told me earlier.-“

Hawks interrupts, “her son is always home though.”

“Don’t interrupt me, he goes to U.A. I bet they have some trip for passing the exam.”

“How are we supposed to find that out?”

Mirko groans, “let me talk, I’m always going to that hospital for some reason- I’ll find something out…she likes me unlike you.”

Hawks looks away with a pout, “Don’t say that…”

“I’ll say whatever I want, I’m your wingwoman.”

Hawks and Mirko continue their walk up until they get to his agency, since Mirko doesn’t have one.

Though Mirko continues walking, “See ya later, Hawkey.”

“Where are you going?”

“To my house?- don’t fuck up anything else while I’m gone.”

Hawks huffs lightly, walking into his own office.

He has so much paper work to do, then the commission will be badgering him later for “doing it wrong” according to them.

He can’t wait to just be home.

Be home next to you.

or…your blanket at the very least?

…he really needs to fix this.

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(seonghwa, I’m so sorry if it didn’t tag you because I genuinely couldn’t find your blog for the life of me ): )

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nb-octopus-writes · 2 months

Text

once you're in the hive, the other bees assume you're supposed to be there

[Masterpost]

Summary:

Virgil accidentally gets absorbed by his best friend's brother's polycule.

In his defense, they keep feeding him every time they see him, and Patton's cooking is really good.

Chapter 1: Halloween Party

Wordcount: 1.9K

There are a lot of people Virgil doesn't know at this party. Remus is here, somewhere, and Virgil needs to find him again before the party ends, because Remus was his ride and he doesn't want to get left here. Janus is here too though, and Virgil doesn't think Janus would let Remus leave without him, and he's sure Remus wouldn't desert Janus, so he's trying not to worry too much about the fact that he doesn't currently know where Remus is.

But that's it for people Virgil knows, and Remus didn't even bother to introduce him to anyone before fucking off to who knows where, and Virgil’s certainly not going to walk up to a random stranger and introduce himself, so he's currently appreciating the snack table. If he's eating or deliberating on what to eat next, he can't be expected to talk to anybody, right?

“’Scuse me, itsy bitsy,” someone says from behind him, and Virgil turns to see a vaguely familiar man in a dazzling prince costume holding a fresh plate of deviled eggs.

Virgil moves so that the prince dude can set the plate down on a clear spot on the table, and frowns. “I'm taller than you, Princey.”

Prince dude shrugs, plucks one of the eggs up, and takes a large bite. “Lucky you, or we'd've had to ask you to vacate the premises,” he says. “No little spiders allowed, real or fake.”

Which, yeah, now that he's mentioned it, Virgil had noted an extreme lack of spider-themed decorations, which is unusual for Halloween. Usually there'd at least be spiderweb cupcakes, but the cupcakes at this party are mostly cute ghosts.

There's probably a good reason for that, Virgil realizes with a sinking feeling. “Should I change?”

“You got another costume handy, or were you planning on spinning a spider-silk cocoon and metamorphosing into a butterfly?”

Virgil grimaces. “No,” he admits.

Prince Dude considers him. “It's not very realistic,” he says, which is true. Virgil hadn't been going for realism, he'd been going for passable costume I can make on short notice. He's wearing black jeans and a black hoodie, and he'd cut some pool noodles in half and wrapped them in more black cloth and stuck them to his back for the other four legs. It had been a pain to get them to stay in place properly, actually, and he'd ended up sewing their wrappings to the back of his hoodie in order to keep them where he wanted them. He'd been pretty proud of it, given that Remus had dropped “we're going to a costume party at my brother's house” on him like an hour beforehand, but now he's wishing he'd come up with any other idea. He could have put a sheet over his head and been a ghost, or something. Granted, that would have required him to have a sheet that was both white and that he was willing to cut holes in, which he didn't, but still.

Prince Dude continues to quietly scrutinize Virgil, and he wants to squirm under his gaze. Eventually, the guy shrugs and says, “Might be best to ask the scaredy-cat himself. Wait here, I'll be back.” And he saunters off before Virgil can answer.

For lack of anything better to do, Virgil picks up a deviled egg and shoves the whole thing in his mouth. It's really tasty, actually, and now he's wishing he'd taken smaller bites rather than horking it down in one.

Virgil had thought that Princey was just being mean with the “scaredy-cat” thing, but the guy he's talking to now actually is dressed as a calico cat. Prince Dude points back at Virgil, and Mister Calico Cat glances in his direction, then turns back to Princey. Virgil can't hear what they're saying, but he supposes Prince Dude must've asked Calico if Virgil’s costume was too creepy crawly scary.

They talk for way longer than Virgil had expected, and he can't tell if Calico's response was more like “No, he's fine,” or more along the lines of “Yes, that's terrifying, please have him removed immediately from my sight and also my home.”

He occupies himself with another deviled egg. If he's going to get kicked out, he might as well enjoy some more of this tasty food first.

Oh, fuck. Remus.

Remus isn't going to want to leave early just to take Virgil home, and Virgil still doesn't know where he even is! Fuck!

Well, Remus could have warned him not to be a spider, so if Virgil gets kicked out of the party it'll be at least partly Remus's fault. Virgil doesn't know anybody here, but Remus knows at least half these people, and if Calico’s spider aversion is enough that there are no spider-themed decorations in the house on Halloween, that sounds like the kind of thing Remus would know about.

Granted, Remus revels in being gross and annoying, but still! He's not a total dick. He should have told Virgil.

Fucker.

Calico vanishes into the other room, and Prince Dude comes back over to Virgil. He doesn't look like he's about to kick Virgil to the curb, at least. Virgil braces himself anyway.

“Good news!” Princey says with a grin. “Li’l Mister Muffet says you don't look like a creepy crawly death dealer and he doesn't have the urge to remove you with arson!”

Virgil blinks. “...gooood?” he says slowly. He hadn't even considered kill it with fire being a potential response to his costume. That would have been worse than just getting kicked out of the party, actually.

“Honestly you're much more Doc Ock in silhouette, Spider-Man,” Princey continues. “That helps a lot.”

Virgil glances back at where Prince Dude and Calico had been chatting. “So he didn't leave the room because he can't stand the sight of me?” he asks anyway.

“Nah, he wanted to make another plate of horse devours,” Princey says, reaching past Virgil to grab a cupcake off the table. This one has a little frosting bat.

“A plate of what?” Virgil says, because surely he didn't hear that right.

“Little snacks,” Prince Dude clarifies instead of repeating himself. “Our fridge is crammed with delicious bits and bobs. It's been so hard to resist the temptation to eat them before the party.” He bites appreciatively into his cupcake, then adds with his mouth full, “You'd think he wouldn't notice what with how much he made, but nooo, sneak one chocolate covered cherry before party time and it's a lengthy scolding for you!” Princey sighs dramatically, then cheerfully devours the rest of his cupcake.

“...hors d'oeuvres?” Virgil says hesitantly.

“Yeah, a couple ordervs of deviled eggs, cheese and crackers, and those scrumptious little pinwheel things,” Princey says. Virgil’s not sure if Princey actually doesn't know how hors d'oeuvres is pronounced, or if he's messing with him, but then Princey gives him a mischievous grin that one, confirms that yes, Princey does know what he's doing, and two, is so familiar that it freezes Virgil in place as the pieces click together in his brain.

The lack of a mustache makes Prince Dude's face look different, and so does the way he did his makeup, and he carries himself differently, but it's undeniable all the same: Virgil knows that grin.

This is Remus's twin brother.

Now that he's connected the dots (you haven't connected shit) the family resemblance is clear even to Virgil’s honestly rather faceblind eyes.

This is Remus's brother, and it's his house they're partying at.

… Virgil doesn't remember the guy's name.

Fuck, he should've made sure he at least knew who the party hosts were, especially the one related to his mischief goblin of a best friend.

Well he can't exactly ask now, can he?

“Also like, five types of cupcakes,” Princey continues, oblivious to Virgil’s inner turmoil. “Seriously, have you tried the cupcakes? Chef Boiardelightful made multiple separate batches of different flavors, from scratch. And they're all delicious!”

Virgil smirks. “And did you try to snitch them before the party too?”

Princey gasps theatrically, pressing a hand to his chest. “How could you accuse me of such a thing!?” he protests with exactly as much dramatic emotion as Virgil would expect from Remus's twin. “For your information, I did not! I merely sampled a portion of the batter left on the spatula after the cupcakes had gone into the oven. Also some of the frosting.”

“He means that he licked the bowls clean,” says a new voice, and Virgil does not jump out of his skin, thank you very much. And even if he did jolt a little, it's nothing to the startled squawk Princey emits.

Calico's back, holding a platter of little finger sandwiches on toothpicks. He offers them up to Virgil, who takes one. “Thanks.”

“No worries, kiddo!” Calico says cheerfully, and puts the rest of the platter down on the snack table. Princey plucks up two sandwiches by their toothpicks, and gets a stern look in response. “Make sure to leave some for the guests,” Calico scolds.

“My delightful and beloved Patissier,” Princey says, cupping Calico's face gently with his free hand. “I assure you that each of our guests could have a heaping plateful of food and we would still have leftovers until next Tuesday. No-one will be going home hungry.”

It really is an impressive spread. Everything Virgil’s tried has been really good. Remus really could have played up the ‘free food’ angle more when trying to convince Virgil to come. If he'd known the food would be this good, then overriding his usual party-related reservations—it's gonna be loud, there will be a lot of people, I don't know anybody, etc—would have been a lot easier. Then again, Virgil probably wouldn't have believed him. He'd mostly been expecting pizza and cheap beer, honestly, not– not homemade delicacies.

The tiny sandwich Calico gave him is lightly toasted, with some kind of sliced-meat-and-cream-cheese filling, and a little green leafy garnish on top. It definitely looks much fancier than most things Virgil eats, and he can understand why Calico doesn't want Princey to eat them all. That probably took a decent amount of effort. He almost feels bad eating it himself, except that Calico had offered it to him specifically, and it would probably be more rude at this point to not eat it.

“Are you sure my costume is okay?” Virgil asks, interrupting the minor squabble Princey and Calico had fallen into.

“Oh, yes, you're fine,” Calico assures him. “Trust me, if you were pinging my brain as an actual spider I wouldn't be in the room right now, let alone standing next to you.”

“Really, cause most cats I know would eat a spider soon as look at it,” Virgil quips, and is rewarded with Calico laughing.

“That wouldn't be very good host-ly of me, now would it?” he says. “I would never eat a guest!”

“Not unless they're a reptile with scallions,” Princey teases, and Calico flushes.

“Hey!” he protests, swatting Princey's shoulder with one hand and trying to cover his extremely red face with the other. Virgil wonders what the reference was, exactly, but doesn't think it's his place to ask. It seems rather personal, from how hard Calico is blushing.

…maybe he'll ask Remus later if he knows what the story there is.

~~~~

Chapter 2: The Morning After

#nb octopus writes #Accidental Polycule Infiltration Fic #sanders sides #creativitwins #Virgil POV #multichapter #1 #royality #mociet #(implied)#polysanders

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jolapeno · 11 months

Text

iii. build me furniture

frankie morales x f!reader | chapter three of i like the way you

best friend! friends with benefits! frankie morales summary: what starts off as an offhand remark, quickly becomes a regular, scheduled 'stress relief'. the only problem is, both of you are in denial that you feel anything outside of friendship for the other.

chapter warnings: friends with benefits. fwb! rules. illusions to smut. frankie builds you furniture, and like that deffo needs a warning.

an: thank you to @thetriumphantpanda for letting me bother you countless times about this.

wordcount: 3.7k

He knows he should check the calendar, but he doesn't.

Frankie, instead, throws his hat on the seat, phone into the cup holder, and shoves the key into the ignition before sparking his vehicle to life. Waiting, and waiting, until he hears the distinct beep of his phone connecting before his finger is seeking your name on the dash, pulling out of the car park.

The dial tone echoes through the bed of his vehicle. The silence between each allowing the sound of tyres crunching the road to fill his ears until your voice soon plugs the quiet.

It’s heavenly, all sweet, layered ever so slightly by an edge of sarcasm—What do you want, Morales?

After some back and forth, a slight deviation in his journey, you’re buckling yourself in beside him. His hat in your lap, your perfume filling the car as he pulls away from the front of your house.

He hopes it soaks into the fabric—clings to the interior of his car. A thought, he suspects he shouldn’t have, but allows to swirl and twirl in his mind all the same.

“Bit spontaneous of you, Mr Calendar.”

Shifting in his seat, he checks the mirrors, watching from the corner of his eye as you did your usual. It starts with checking his glovebox, for what—he’s never quite sure—to closing the vents, to fiddling with the station or volume of his radio.

If it were anyone else, he’d kick up a fuss. But, not you—never you.

“I can’t believe you was gonna ask someone else to take you to IKEA.”

Rolling your eyes, you lean back in your seat—eyes doing that thing. Where they warm him, sizzle his skin under his clothes. “I wasn’t asking anyone, I was asking Will.”

“Still.”

“I thought you were busy. Your calendar was blocked out.”

“So, you’d have asked me first if I was free?”

It leaves his tongue teasingly, and a part of him means it as such. But another, a darker-tinged part—one forever covered in shade, where things fester, and happiness has wilted—means for it to be tainted with bitterness. The embers of jealousy brimming, licking, nipping at the words as they filter out into the air.

“You’re my best friend, Frank. Of course, I’d rather go pick out an entryway table with you.”

“Good job my day opened up then, isn’t it?”

You only hum. It being followed by a smooth, almost comforting silence that falls across the vehicle as he drives. His elbow leaning on the door, fingernails tapping against the window to the beat of a song which thrums through him.

He can’t help it, but his eyes flit back to you—finding you staring out the window, lips moving, whispering along to the words of whatever song filled the truck.

And he shouldn’t think it—shouldn’t even entertain the thought—but fuck you are something.

His hand gripping the steering wheel as the thought undoes itself, it opening itself up within his chest, releasing butterflies and confetti that, in time, will fall absently to the base of his stomach. Because—

“I don’t want anything too big,” you announce suddenly. Your head turns, rolling on the seat as you lift your leg up, present, but eyes unfocusing as you think. “Just near the wall, where the chest currently is—think it’ll look nice.”

Swallowing, he nods. “It will.”

He’s not sure what to do with the way you smile. The way you beam. Illuminating the world on what is already a nice sunny day, adding something extra to it. So, he does nothing. Letting the vehicle fall into silence again. Your foot occasionally taps the floor, muttering lyrics as he lightly thuds his fingers against the roof until he enters the parking lot, hunting for a space.

Frankie has been here countless times.

For his place, for yours—for ex-partners who over-romanticised a trip here. But, it was furniture. A warehouse full of pre-arranged rooms and ideas, accessories flowing out of bins and plants swirling around light fixtures in a zone they try to make look close to a jungle.

“You know what you’re looking for?” he asks, walking in step with you.

Shaking your head, you nudge him with your elbow. “Good job your day opened up, right?”

Nudging you back, he turns on the spot—facing you, walking backwards. “Shotgun pushing the trolley.”

“You’re such a big fucking kid, Morales.”

And, he’d let his cheeks burn under your words, but he sees the look on your face. The unfiltered delight, how it glides from you and lands straight in the centre of his chest.

He’d scribbled the aisle number on the piece of paper three zones previous.

Your fingers had been running over the display table—a little smile etching itself across your cheek as he flicked up the paper, writing the information he needed.

“The pencil looks tiny in your hand.”

Smirking, he stuck it behind his ear before poking your side. “It’s a tiny pencil.”

When you look at him, you’re smirking—a thought running, all restless in your mind. He can tell. Can practically hear your mischievous wheels turning in your brain.

“We done?”

“Nope.”

The ‘P’ pops intentionally, your body turning to face him, hand on the base of the cart—walking backwards, an unreadable smile spreading out over the place your smirk had just lived.

“Need candles, plants—and I would really love your opinion on a new throw cushion.”

“Fuck. Maybe I should have let Will bring you,” he grins, nudging the cart into your side as you laugh sarcastically.

If he was honest with himself, Frankie knows he’d spend all day in here with you. Get to play house in your two’s weird, twisted way.

Because he'd liked it earlier when you called him to come and look at a display kitchen, hand pretending to fry the plastic eggs in the pan as you tell him to check the fridge for OJ. From the twinkle in your eye, you liked it when he called you honey and asked if you wanted to watch the sports channel with him—you hovering in the doorway of the display living area, shaking your head.

If anything, though, it made the knot in his stomach tighten.

The one that’s been loosening and binding since the moment in your kitchen, the moment in his, the bedroom and your sofa.

“Frankie, c’mere.”

Pushing the trolley, he finds you—of course—in a sea of shelves filled with candles. Various shades, an array of scents, some more overwhelming than others, as you lift a left and then a right to your nose, before jutting your head.

“Smell this.”

Lifting the candle to his nose, he inhales, watching you—before his face scrunches, yanking his head back as you burst into laughter. It flows out from your throat to your eyes, nose scrunching, hand clasping his forearm as you lean into him, muttering in half-breaths and laughing that it’s awful, right?

The scent is, but the moment isn’t.

Composure sets in, wiping the joy from your face gradually as you place another back. His hand finding one, a white pot—simple, plain, glass. Lifting it to his nose, he’s immediately transported to your place. A candle he smells so often, it unlocks a host of memories that suddenly balloon inside of him—pulling a smile across his lips, before he tilts it to your face, watching your fingers wrap around his wrist, gently, softly.

“This is the one you usually buy, right?”

Flicking from the candle to him, he almost loses his breath. More so when you let a different smile grace your lips, one that makes his heart skip a beat.

“Y-yeah. It’s my favourite.”

Nodding, he forces a swallow, before he puts it in the bag inside the trolley—your brow arching, smile fading. “It’s mine too.”

“You burn candles?”

Smirking, he tilts his head, he grabs another, and another. “What? I don’t strike you as someone who burns candles?”

“No, Morales. You seem like someone who’d accidentally burn their house down.”

“Yeah, maybe. But, maybe I can buy these and keep them at yours.”

If you’re conflicted, you don’t show it. Staring for a second, and another, until you shrug. Something there, desperate to glide over your cheeks, but he knows whatever it is, it’s forced back. He can tell.

It’s a thing he’s about to point out and poke fun at you for—especially when the two of you haven’t stopped staring. Focused. Entirely too much, if the next second is anything to go by. Because you clear your throat, avert your eyes, turning—rather quickly—not seeing it, the other shopper’s trolley full of poorly stacked packages.

And it’s instinct, he thinks. Tells himself.

The way his mouth curls around your name, but his arm is already reaching out. Fingers first, then palm, until he’s wrapping his forearm around your waist and pulling, twisting you into him. His other hand all quick to follow his movements, grasping your shoulder with the other until your body is flush with his—head, avoiding the other person’s trolley full of long boxes.

Your gasp hits his ears, as your eyes land on him.

They’re wide, wild—painted in surprise, fright and amazement. Your pupils having swallowed all the colour—until you blink, and he realises his chest is falling and rising in tandem with yours.

“Should look where you’re going, querida.”

If at all possible, your eyes widen. His fingers release your shoulder, hovering, half-tempted to brush his knuckles against your cheek—but he drops them to his side.

Even if all he thinks is: this is nice—holding you this close.

It pulsating within him, until he lets go. Watching you step back—eyes still on him, all unreadable and surprised.

“We should…”

“Yeah. Let’s,” he replies, quickly.

Pushing the trolley in the direction you’re heading, feeling his cheeks burn, his ears following not that long behind.

Fuck he looks good.

Your mouth goes dry for the billionth time in the last five minutes. Having already found yourself needing the reminder that you have a glass in your hand—even more so when he looks up at you from his place knelt on the floor.

The two of you had chosen to also buy a set of drawers to match—ones that would fit in the corner, and store the six thousand candles you own. As though he hadn’t played a part in why that amount had grown.

“You listenin’ to me?”

Not at all. “Hmm?”

“Where’s the toolbox I made up for you?”

It’s easy to let your face fall into a two-step. For your brow to arch as his question pulls it, and your lips slide into your cheek. “Wherever you left it when you made it me.”

Your name falls from his lips—satiny, yet laced with disappointment—as he slowly gets up, leaving his spread-out instructions, many screws, and bits and bobs he’d laid out before he could even attempt to build it.

Frankie has always been more sensible—more structured. You’d witnessed him build things before, always following the same pattern, the same checks he’d do—to the point you wonder if he has an order when he flies. Whether he has a to-do list in his head he has to run through, one that doesn’t beat to the same drum as what is needed, but rather a curated one by him, just for him.

By the time he’s back, you’ve downed half your glass, finding—like the last—it does nothing to quench you. Not in the way you’d hoped, least of all when he removes his hat, throws it to the sofa, and you see the dampened edges of his curls.

Your brain betrays you. Reminding you—in vivid shades and high-definition, how you’d liked the feel of them in your hand. How he’d like them tugged, pulled when he was deep, his thumbs digging bruises into the back of your thighs—your hand all desperate for leverage, for something. You’d liked the home they found in his head, earning yourself the trophy of a groan that shot sparks through your already overstimulated body.

Blinking, you shake your head.

Trying to think of something, anything—

“I need to ask you something.”

His eyes lift, fixing on you as he kneels back down—all vast brown landing on you, coating you, smothering you in warmth that only he ever can.

“I’m starving, Frankie. Please, can I order us food?”

It takes a second, two at most. His face shifts into a frown before it smooths out, realisation dawning, crashing out over him.

“To say thank you,” you add, fluttering your eyelashes, face smooth.

Sighing, he licks his lips. “I’ll let you order, if you can keep your hands to yourself.”

Rolling your eyes, you move from the floor. “Yes, Morales. Because cheese dripping down your chin really does it for me.”

Grinning, he wipes the back of his hand against his forehead. “I don’t know your kinks.”

Competency, you quickly think—almost hum it. Especially when he slides another wooden leg into place—not even glancing at the instructions this time. You, your brain follows up with, immediately banishing, forcing it away, storing it in some box marked do not ever fucking open.

His grunts as he builds being added to the same box as you order the food. They’re all punchy, low—and it sparks memories which shouldn’t be present when you’re ordering food.

Not if you want to keep a level head, because you’re not entirely sure what playing field the two of you are on tonight. Prior to today, it’s all been planned—blocked out in both calendars, clear, rooted in the rules the two of you had laid.

The boundaries all spelt out.

But this, today and tonight, is now two people—two friends—who are moving to the beat of their own drum. The same two who hung out like this before the entanglement had begun, and while you know this, something else whispers around the logic.

It isn’t drowned out when you’ve ordered, or when you’re hanging in the open doorway—watching him, ogling him, basking in how normal it is that he’s here.

“Can I build something?”

Smirking, he leans back on his knees. “You can build a drawer.”

“Because they’re the most important part?”

He smirks wider, more teeth—a flicker in his eyes.

Because you know why he’s left you with drawers. Your earlier mishaps with furniture building had set a rule that you should be nowhere near a hammer, nails or flat-pack furniture—especially if you wanted it to be usable.

“Or, you can pass me the bits I need,” he offers.

Simpler, you swear you hear him think.

So you do. You pass each tool, each fixing. Watching in awe as he slowly ignores the paper, not even bothering to turn the pages as the thing slowly becomes an entryway table—a thing which you can store and put things on.

In the time he builds, your face aches from smiling, and your stomach hurts from lack of food and laughter. So much so, you don’t realise the time until the pizza arrives—him standing, all but trying to force money into your hand until you kick him in the shin.

By the time the two of you are back on the floor, the box open, scent immediately filling your home, he’s still complaining.

“Bet I have a bruise.”

“Oh, boo-fucking-hoo. Eat ya damn pizza, Morales.”

Grinning, he takes a messy bite.

And you know what you said earlier. Are distinctly aware that the thoughts you’re having are crossing all sorts of lines, even if the two of you never specified rules. Because, you want to trace your tongue over his chin, catch the sauce that’s sat there, climb into his lap, grind your lap into his—

“You’re staring.”

Blinking, you swallow. “Forgot what an animal you are when you eat.”

“You’re rude, y’know that?”

Grinning back, you take another bite. Aware of the way he’s staring now. Feeling the way it runs up and down your body, your fingers brushing against your thumb to remove the dust.

Clearing his throat, he averts his eyes. Focusing on a spot on the floor, toying with taking another bite. You’re so close to asking him why, when his mouth opens, and something falls out you don’t expect:

“You think friends build each other furniture?”

You pause because it’s unexpected. A warmth floods your cheeks when he lifts his stare back to you. Waiting—for what, you’re not sure.

Clearing your throat, you lean back, palm pressing into the floor—rooting you, keeping you stable. “Well. I was gonna ask Will, remember?”

He says nothing. Doesn’t even move to eat the last two bites of pizza in his hand.

“I think friends as good as us,” you say, needing to fill it—the silence, “can do lots of things together, and still be able to…”

“Reap the awards of unlocked benefits?”

“Exactly,” you manage to croak.

Feeling it again. The way the air thickens. Something charging, all electric, lightning and thunder.

“I meant it earlier—about asking me.”

“Your calendar is rather full, Frankie.”

Wiping his hand on the box, he shoots a smile. “Nunca estoy ocupada para ti.”

Your smile pulls itself across your face, chin dipping, ears warming. It settling, the meaning of his words, sweltering in the tension that seems to double until you ask if he’s done. Excusing yourself, mumbling about tubbing up the rest. Letting him continue, not much left anyway, he’d said. It’s why you take longer, tidying—putting things away that have lived on your counters forever.

Because this is new and foreign. All of it.

The way things are flowing inside of you, bubbles of feelings you want to ignore but find them rising up in the sea that’s suddenly ever-present and just fucking there.

“I’m done.”

Your hands spread over your kitchen counter, taking in the cold of them—the feel of them—as you let a big breath fill your chest. Whether for courage or strength, you weren’t sure. But it fuelled you to turn to face him, but not quite enough to settle the fluttering in your stomach as you walk back to him in the living room—finding him standing, admiring it.

Just like you should be.

But your eyes are on something else—someone else.

Lingering up and down. Seeing him differently, things all mixed up inside, jumbled, out of sorts.

“It looks good,” you whisper, aware your voice has dropped an octave.

Even more aware that your shoulder is close to his, a gap barely there between the two of you. And it’s hard not to stare at him. To not marvel at him. How he’s soft and muscular, firm and strong—how you’ve seen his arms flex when he’s between your thighs and when he’s building your furniture.

Licking your lips, you don’t blink when his head turns, and he meets your stare.

You don’t fight the way your eyes drop to his mouth.

Instead, you just move into it. Slanting your mouth over his, tongue brushing over his bottom lip as your fingers slide around his neck, burying themselves in his curls as you become aware that his arms are around your waist. Then, you’re kissing him hard, dizzying.

Heat, all bubbling and ferocious, grows inside of you—spreading, beginning at the base of your spine, until it’s curling up and around everything it can to lick at your throat. Every sense, nerve and thought orienteering and honed in on him. How his body feels pressed against yours, how his mouth feels on yours.

“Frankie,” you moan.

It escapes, his name passing your lips as he buries the sound with a groan of his own. But, you've opened the gate—it flung open now, more escaped syllables and letters following it.

Want you.

Wanted you all fucking day.

Think about you all the time.

Your fingers slide up the front of his t-shirt, darting the tips of them over his stomach, resting your palm against his hip as he walks you back to the wall—stability needed as his hips find yours.

Dios mío, eres tan sexy.

The words have barely washed over you, when you feel his fingers under your chin, lifting your chin, forcing you to hold his stare. Proving a chance to back out. A momentary break.

A get-out to keep the night friendly, rather than whatever the two of you now call the thing you do. But, if anything, you want—

“Bet that pencil would look real small next to your—”

“Shh,” he whispers, cutting you off.

His grin spreading, all large and not easily contained or bit back—ghosting it over yours, the tip of his nose tracing yours.

His fingers sliding further up your neck, his thumb catching your chin and the fire in his eyes almost makes you forget how to think, never mind breathe.

“Really want to fuck you on your new table.”

“You think IKEA build furniture to support how we do it?”

He ponders, you can see it. Sweeping his eyes up and down your frame. The maths running, there suddenly an array of equations in the blown pupils of his eyes as his fingers circle and swirl on your neck and hip. “If I break it, I’ll replace it.”

“You’ll be doing that forever, Morales.”

You see it bloom, his cockiness. It swallowing whatever remainders there were of the shy friend you used to know, replacing him with the cock-sure person who regularly makes your thighs shake and your brain empty.

“Building furniture gets you going, does it?”

The hand on your hip drops, finding a place along the tops of your thighs—and even through your jeans, you can already feel him. The strokes of lightening up and down your body, the way he makes you become putty.

The point is proven when he slides his hand between your thighs, a gasp escaping, easily kissed from your tongue by his lips.

“Not usually,” you whimper, his ministrations halting. “Just you building it. Apparently.”

And fuck, you swear you’re swallowed by lava, from both the look he shoots you and the way his mouth crashes back to yours.

chapter three ->

#frankie morales x reader #francisco morales x reader #frankie morales x f!reader #Frankie morales x reader smut #frankie morales x you #frankie morales #jo: iltwy #triple frontier x reader #francisco morales fanfiction #triple frontier fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #francisco catfish morales x reader #catfish morales x reader #francisco morales smut #frankie morales smut #triple frontier smut #frankie morales x f!reader smut #pedrostories

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hoseokslefteyebrow · 2 months

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The Anomaly || JJK

Chapter 5: It's Like That

summary : In which you're isekai'd from your (own) parallel Jujutsu Kaisen universe to the canon universe.

wordcount : 2.8k

Pairing: Jujutsu Kaisen X Reader, eventually Character x Reader (idk who yet tho)

Masterlist | Next

The mission you guys were called for was in fact, not top secret. That mission was about a week ago now. Your current mission? Also not top secret.

In fact, the four of you have just wrapped it up. It was in the city, and now, you're all left with what to do for the rest of the day.

" I think I'll go see a movie. "

Yuuji shares, scrolling through his phone to see the many titles which are currently playing.

" What about you, Kugisaki? "

" It's still early. I think I'll go see a movie. "

" What about you, Y/N? "

Over the past week, you found yourself growing closer with Megumi. It was quite silly. The Megumi of your universe didn't exactly get along with you all that well. Your Yuuji could stuck to him like glue, but your Megumi and you could not sit in the same room for longer than an hour before the two of you start bickering. (Yes, it went down between the two of you that often.) On the rare days, the two of you would get into a physical fight.

That usually ended with you annoying him to no end, considering your fighting style revolves around other people their movements. It would eventually also escalate with him using his Ten Shadows technique on you (yes, you manage to piss him off that bad, that often.) Which in turn, would send you running. Usually to Sukuna. Not necessarily because he could beat the Ten Shadow technique, but simply because no one but you ever dared to bother Sukuna. It was a simple, unspoken rule. One Gojo loved to disrespect often.

" Ah, I think I'll join Nobara. "

He nods while you grin, linking arms with Nobara who mirrors your expression.

" Alright. I'm heading home. "

Moments later, Megumi is on his way home.

" I'm going to the movies, what about you guys? "

Yuuji asks, waving his phone as you and Nobara are stood on the staircase leading towards the metro station. You let go of her, in turn of facing him.

" What are you watching? "

" Human earthworm 4."

He looks so proud as he says that.

" Who even watches that?! I haven't even seen 1,2 or 3."

" I think you'd be fine jumping in in 4-"

Yuuji begins, explaining the plot to her. You cringe. It's not your type of film.

" -So the theme is actually love! "

Yuuji exclaims, all excited. You blink.

Ew, worm man.

" I don't want to see some wormo man. Regardless of the theme. "

" It's human earthworm though. "

" I'm not going. "

" Awe, Y/N, what about you? "

" Uhm, no thanks. That movie franchise is... Not my thing. "

" We're gonna go shopping. Wanna join? "

" I just said I'm going to the movies! "

" Okay, see you later then. "

" Later Yuuji, have fun! "

The two of you walk along for a moment, agreeing about how stupid the whole concept of human earthworm is, when-

" Excuse me, do you know Itadori Yuuji? "

Moments later you, Nobara, and a girl whose name is Yuko, find yourselves at a simple cafe, as she explains the situation to you.

" This is me at our middle school graduation ceremony. "

She hands her phone to Nobara, and you peek over her shoulder. Woah, now that's a glow up.

" Woah, wait, that was only six months ago! What happened to you? "

" You did have quite the glow up. You're gorgeous!"

" Ah, thank you. I did grow 15 centimeters. And with moving to Tokyo and the stress of changing environments... "

" Woah... You're a real Sato Kuruko. "

" That's Itadori. -"

She's showing the two of you a different picture now. You recognize Yuuji in a different school uniform, only noticing now that he's really growing better into his features.

You hadn't gone to the same middle school as Yuuji in your own universe, instead, you were home schooled with the other kids of your clan. It's where you and Noritoshi learned to get along so well. He was a bastard child, yet next in line as the chief because of his technique. You're rejected because of your technique.

" On graduation day, I worked up the courage to ask him for a picture. I actually wanted to get his number too, but it was already decided that I would be moving to Tokyo. "

She continues to explain, her eyes downcast, a little sad about the memory.

" So when I saw Itadori earlier- I thought maybe with how I look now, I might.... "

You and Nobara catch on, giving each other incredulous looks.

" Wait, Yuko, you mean-"

You begin, looking at her like some sort of silly cartoon, Nobara finishing your sentence for you.

" - it's like that? "

Yuko replies with the same energy.

" Yes, it's like that. "

Barely a moment later, Nobara is calling someone. Ijichi, who was on his way to drop off Megumi. It doesn't take any effort for the driver to turn around. You doubt Megumi is aware of it.

" Someone who knows Itadori well is on his way here now. Let's hear what he has to say. "

" Uhm, if either of you are also interested in Itadori... "

Yuko starts, though Nobara's deadpan expression pulls a giggle from you.

" No. "

Her eyes look dead serious as she says so.

" Even if hell and earth were to dance the lambada, not happening. "

You snort at her words.

" Yeah, you don't need to worry. I'm not interested either. "

You smile reassuringly at Yuko. A few moments later, Megumi has arrived at your table, looking agitated. You smile at him.

" All right, what's the big deal? "

" Hey Megumi, does Itadori have a girlfriend? "

Nobara doesn't waste time today. She's getting straight into business.

He raises a brow at her.

" Hue? "

" This is Ozawa Yuko. She's actually something, something and something like... "

Her explanation is shady, both her and your expression serious.

He breaks out a sweat, understanding the situation.

" So it's like that? "

Both you and Nobara nod, sweating the seriousness of the situation as well.

" Yes, it's like that. "

He ends up sitting down beside you. (Figure out the seating plan yourself, I'm not gonna make it complicated.) With a black coffee.

You will never understand his preferred taste.

" I doubt it. He didn't seem particularly upset about moving to Tokyo all of a sudden. And he's got one of those posters hanging up in his room. Anyone with a girlfriend wouldn't put up something like that, right? She wouldn't like that. "

Meanwhile, Nobara seems to be more concerned about his choice of drink.

" Are you the type who drinks coffee black around girls to show off? Please stop. "

You blink as well, suddenly curious. Was he?

He's annoyed by her words.

" Don't forget, you're the one who called me. And I always drink it black. "

Yuko finally speaks up now, an adorable blush on her face.

" Um, by the way, do you happen to know what his type is? "

" A tall girl with a big ass. "

Both Megumi and Nobara turn to blink at you. You blink back at them.

" What? I grew up around him and his- around him. "

You blush in embarrassment, realizing you could be wrong. There's been enough proof of differences between your universe and this one after all.

" Well, you're correct either way. He mentioned something about liking tall girls. "

Yuko, Nobara and you seem to communicate telepathically, like some kind of electric signal spreads between the three of you. You clink your glasses together, and Nobara slams her phone on the table.

" You've got a shot! I'm gonna summon Itadori! You're okay with that right, Yuko?! "

She nods.

" Yes! "

The messages between them are silly, and fast. And now, all that's left to do is wait.

Not that you have to wait long. Soon enough Yuuji joins the scene, a paper bag of stuff in his hands.

" Oh!, Fushiguro's here too? "

Both you and Nobara blink. That was fast.

Suddenly, you hurriedly glance at Nobara. She hadn't told him why he needed to come. Hadn't told him about Yuko. There was no way he could recognize her when she changed so much- Nobara seems to realize too, sweating the situation, holding out her hand to quickly introduce the two of them to one another.

" Itadori! This girl is-"

" Oh!, it's Ozawa. How did you end up here? "

All three of you are impressed. Holding up imaginary 10s for his recognizing skill.

Yuko and Yuuji end up spending the rest of the afternoon together, with Megumi, Nobara and you tagging along behind them. Megumi even felt soft enough to hold Yuuji's stuff for him.

" Was that really okay, they could've at least exchanged numbers. "

Megumi points out, as Yuko leaves by train later that afternoon. You agree. Kind of. They had seemed to hit it off after all.

" She exchanged hers with me, so it'll be fine. More important, Fushiguro, Y/N, I've finally recognized my own feelings. "

Both of you give her a curious glance.

" Hue? "

Was she about to admit to having feelings for him? You shouldn't be surprised. The two got along really well, after all-

" The idea of Itadori getting a girlfriend before I get a boyfriend really pisses me off. "

Maybe not. You grin at her words, an imaginary embarrassed sweat drop running down your brow.

Of course she'd say something like that. That sounds more like her.

Megumi doesn't seem surprised.

" Is that so? "

" Sorry for the wait! "

Yuuji jumps back in between you and Nobara.

" Walk behind me. "

You blink at Nobara's words.

" Huh, what's this? What're you talking about? "

Yuuji seems confused. A feeling you relate to. Megumi doesn't seem to care.

" Here. "

He's handing Yuuji back his bag of stuff.

" Here, while you're at it. "

" Huh? What's this? "

" Wouldn't you feel bad for making a lady carry them? "

She's handing him her own bags now.

" Sure. "

Yuuji doesn't seem to mind.

" Want me to carry your stuff too, Y/N? "

You smile at him, shaking your head. You're only holding one plastic bag loosely between your fingers, the bag full of snacks.

" Oh, shoot! The movie's about to start, let's go! "

Yuuji's jogging before any of you actually can check the time.

" Hey! Wait up! Don't take my stuff with you! There's no way I'm watching some wormo man! "

Yuuji ignores her words, turning to Megumi.

" Fushiguro, Y/N, wanna grab some popcorn? Fushiguro, you like caramel flavoured right? "

" Don't just assume we're all going to watch wormo man. "

" I told you all, it's human earthworm. 4! "

You regret watching human earthworm 4.

There had been a little too many horror like sound effects and jumps in it, and now you didn't feel like sleeping. Your fear of horror films was a bit childish, but it rarely bothered you.

And so you find yourself leaving your dorm. You want to make dumplings. But you don't have all the ingredients, so you need to go to a 24h convenient store.

" What're you doing? "

Your skin shivers before you jump, turning around to face the intruder who's sneaked up on you.

" What the- Don't sneak up on me like that! "

Megumi blinks plainly at you.

" Where are you going at this hour? "

" 24h convenient store. I can't- I'm gonna make dumplings. "

" Why? Do you really need to at this hour? Don't we have some in the freezer from the last package Yuuji got? "

" Yeah, but I want to make them fresh. "

Megumi blinks at you again, before sighing.

" Okay, well, give me a second to change. I'm coming with you. "

You hadn't even realized that he was in his pijamas. You're in your pijamas too, an oversized sweater and a comfortable pair of leggings. You don't feel bothered enough to change though.

A few moments later, he returns.

" Okay, let's go. "

Thankfully, the walk towards the convenience store is short. Only 10 minutes. The silence between the two of you is comfortable, as you walk side by side down the stairs of Jujutsu Tech.

You eye the forest surrounding the school grounds warily, like something might jump out to attack you any second. Like you don't have powers that literally render every living creature. Megumi glances down at you, realization finally making it's way into his brain.

" Are you afraid of the dark? "

The wrong realization. But don't worry, he'll get there.

You blink.

" Oh, uhm, err- something like that. "

He's admittedly puzzled. So you weren't afraid of the dark. Maybe you've had a bad dream? He doesn't decide to push it. Instead, he softly takes your hand, holding it in his own, distracting you from your fears.

You glance at him, a blush on your face. You smile gratefully at him, squeezing his hand as your peaceful silence returns.

It doesn't take you long to get the remaining ingredients, and soon enough, the two of you are back at the dorms, now stood in the kitchen.

" Thanks. You didn't need to come with me you know? "

You smile at him as you unpack the bag. He blushes, looking away.

" I wasn't going to let you go alone at this hour. "

He mumbles it, but it's just loud enough for you to hear.

He eyes you preparing, before moving to stand at your side, nudging you away.

" I'll cut up the vegetables. "

" Ah, thank you. "

There's a certain peace that resides between the two of you as you work in the kitchen together. It was nice, getting to know him this way. Your Megumi and you would've been bickering already.

Once you've set the dough, you help in cutting up the remaining ingredients. Noticing he's deciding on the amount of ginger to cut up, you smile at him.

" You can add extra if you'd like. "

He raises a brow at you.

" You like extra ginger? "

" Not necessarily, but you do, right? "

He blinks, his eyes open in amazement. How did you know that?

" Does your universe's Megumi like extra ginger too? "

You shrug.

" Not sure. We don't actually get along that well in my universe.- I noticed you ordered that chicken dish that's ginger based, and how you were measuring just now. I just put one and one together and guessed. "

The quick smile you send leaves him blushing once more. He smiles at you. He hadn't realized you were so perceptive.

His eyes return to his chopping work.

" Tsumiki used to make dumplings with me when we were younger. "

You smile as he softens around you, before your features sharpen.

" Oh, right, I completely forgot about it, but I wondered if I could visit Tsumiki sometime? I healed her in my universe, you see. "

Megumi's eyes widen, the grip on the knife he's holding loosening. Were you that powerful? You mentioned being able to use reverse cursed energy, but were you really able to apply that to illness as well?

" I- you healed her? With your reverse cursed technique? Why? I thought we didn't get along in your universe? "

You nod.

" That's true. Our relationship in my universe is hard to explain. I wouldn't borrow the you from my universe my charger, but if he'd need a kidney I'd offer it. We originally did get along. Until something silly happened. Gojo introduced us at a young age. "

Megumi's eyes remain wide. In all honesty, he was mostly still surprised that you might be able to heal her. He also didn't exactly understand how your universe's version of himself didn't like him. You were amazing. And if he were to be selfish, he wished you'd stay.

" Hey, you guys are still up- what are you making? "

Both of you turn to see Yuuji standing in the kitchen's entryway, holding an empty bowl he must be returning. The moment is gone, the conversation something you'll return to later.

" Yeah, we're making dumplings, wanna join? "

The Anomaly Taglist:

@luxylucylou @kalulakunundrum @strxbxrrylover @aethersslave @jenniferrvsesi

#idkeitherman #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #megumi fushiguro #nobara kugisaki #platonic jujutsu kaisen #yuji itadori #sukuna #megumi x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you

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xxsycamore · 3 months

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❝ The Benefits of Having a Scientist Boyfriend ❞ (ISAAC X READER)

╰┈➤ 💝 Isaac surprises you with a loving gesture that will also greatly relieve your pain.

Isaac Newton x Menstruating!Reader • rating: G • tags: Menstruation; Period Cramps; Established Relationship; Fluff • wordcount: 965 • masterlist

a/n: The author is very bad at every field of science mentioned in this fic and still stubbornly made all of the needed research (plus historical research to see how possible it is for our Isaac to put this together in his current time era) while fighting cramps of her own..... Hope you enjoy and also I hope I didn't get my facts (too) wrong! If you happen to suffer from cramps and you want your favorite ikevamp suitor comforting you in their own unique way, may I also offer: Napoleon, Comte, Mozart, Theo, Leonardo, Sebastian, Arthur (NSFW), Vincent 💕(All fics in this series share the same opening scene!)

It’s another beautiful day at the mansion, and the sun is continuing to shine brightly outside as afternoon settles in. Your list of chores is more than halfway done now, the morning was a productive one and you pat yourself on the back for pushing through at your usual pace, even if your period surprised you early this morning. Sleeves rolled up and armed with a feather duster, you march towards the lounge room to take care of another chore.

Specks of dust dance in the afternoon sun, windows wide open, as you complete your task little by little. Soon the sections left to dust decrease and you start to tire - a minor pain in your tummy appears as well, as if to persuade you into taking a short break. You throw a look at the grandfather clock. You’ve been a busy bee; not even the distraction of dusting off some of Comte’s highly intriguing antiques couldn’t get you late on your own schedule.

You sit down at the spacious couch area, grab a throw pillow to hug, and fall on your side - shoe-covered feet juust hanging off the couch because it won’t be worth the effort of taking them off for just a minute or two of rest.

Uh-oh! The pain doesn’t go away and only gets worse instead. Suddenly, moving as much as a millimeter equals signing a death warrant.

“Help” You whisper to yourself, clutching onto the throw pillow.

***

You weren't aware that your inner cry for help was able to send telepathic signals to your boyfriend, but you witness the miracle of him entering through the door in the very next second.

"Isaac!" You rise to a seating position as the sight of him briefly distracts you from your pain - a big mistake on your part, but before you can ask him what brings him here, the next cramp stabs you in the guts and only a painted sound leaves your lips. "Oww…"

"Are you alright? You were curled up on the couch too."

You've already instinctively placed your hand on your lower belly and it doesn't escape Isaac's gaze, but you still pretend to be brave about it and refuse to bother him with such a minor inconvenience of yours…

"Maybe I just ate something funny at lunch? You know how it is with Sebas and his fusion cuisine, always trying to live up to everyone's taste, haha…"

Isaac stares blankly at you for a couple of seconds, then he averts his eyes.

"You can just tell me if your period came, you know…"

Was it that obvious?! Maybe Isaac just knows you well enough by now - the thought brings forth a certain warmth within you… no, that's just another cramp.

"Oww owww… fine, you guessed it… Don't scold me, I'll go look for some herbal tea in the kitchen or-"

"No, lie back down." Isaac's unexpected touch changes the focus of your sensory receptors again and your heart flutters by the simple action of him beckoning you to lie down. You oblige, looking at him with large eyes full of curiosity.

"I was just about to go out for today's école lessons but let me bring you something first. Just lie here and be patient, okay? It's going to feel better soon."

Your curiosity only grows as you watch Isaac's back until he fully disappears from sight.

***

When your boyfriend returns you're overcome with the need to sit up and see what he's carrying in his hands, but you follow his advice and remain patient.

"Some time ago when your cramps were bad like that I asked you how you dealt with them back in your era. Since then I have been, uh, working on something. I figured now would be a good time to try it out."

You blink in disbelief when Isaac hands you what looks like a… heating pad, the ones that are typically used as handwarmers in your time.

"You'll have to massage it in order for it to radiate heat, but I hope that still works for you."

"Isaac you- but how-"

"It's nothing too complex. When I heard your explanation I figured it must be caused by an exothermic reaction… I happen to be knowledgeable in thermodynamics too, you know. I just had to put a supersaturated solution of sodium acetate in water together with notched ferrous metal… Simply put, it crystalizes and radiates heat. I'm still catching up with chemistry after beginning my second life here but fortunately, it was easy enough."

Easy enough, he says…

You can't just lie still anymore, so you raise your upper half enough to wrap your arms around Isaac's shoulders… you didn't plan it out exactly like that, but the physicist ends up being dragged down on the couch with you, barely able to prop himself up on one elbow at the very last second. You keep sobbing into his neck.

"I'm sorry, I'm just so touched by your gesture! I've read about so many invitations that came out of love and-"

Isaac blushes, and he blushes badly. You see the color spreading on his cheeks when he withdraws just a tad more to leave you space to breathe, but he doesn't stand to his feet just yet.

"I guess you can call it that. I'll just be happy as long as it works for you."

Isaac punctuates his words with a chaste caress on the back of your hand which still holds the innovative heating pad. His own warmth leaves you too soon but the artificial one remains - and you find yourself wondering if you can treat it as a reminder of him, when you miss him. Maybe you should tell him that, next time you want to see his cheeks reddening like that again.

Taglist: @arsnovacadenza @kimi00twin @g-kleran @thesirenwashere @devonares @galaxyprison @sadshaxk @starshards26 @thewitchofbooks @acethephoenix256 @ikevamp-shrine-2 @nad-zeta @crystal13unny @lordsister @ikemen-banshou @themysticalbeing @otome-scribbles @rhodolitesrose @coornn @kpop-and-otome @queen-dahlia @kisara-16 @chaosangel767 @ikemenlibrary @queengiuliettafirstlady @aurora-morning @ikemenlover24 @mcofthemansion @joy-the-reader @katriniac @ikemen-writer @tele86 @lovely-bubb1es @aria-chikage @babyblue0t7 @rhodoliteschaos @shrimpy-kitsune @nightghoul381 @xbalayage @lucyw260 @kittygrimm88 @lokis-laugh @judejazza @natimiles @completelyshatteredbrokenmschf @groovylita Let me know if you want to be tagged/untagged!

#ikemen vampire #ikevamp #ikemen vampire isaac #ikevamp isaac #ikemen isaac #ikemen vampire isaac newton #ikevamp fanfic #ikemen fanfic #ikevamp fluff #ikemen series #otome

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borathae · 11 months

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↳ Index [Snippet #41 - Protector]

“When Jungkook shows you why you can always count on him.”

Pairing: Jungkook x f.Reader

Warnings: harassment by a stranger, that stranger is really scary, violence in the form of Kook punching him, cursing, bruises, he is so protective over her, domestic fluff in the form of her taking care of his wounds, she is really vulnerable

Wordcount: 3.1k

a/n: sometimes i need to write about the trope of strong man protects you from danger. somehow i always wanna write that trope with kook. he gives me such “imma fight for you no matter what” vibes and ogc!kook is the epitome of that ngngn

You are so scared. All of your employees left for the day already and there are no other customers in the restaurant anymore. Except for one. A man. Drunk. Tall. Stronger than you. And with bad intentions in his eyes.

You can’t get him to leave and you are so scared. He has started to attempt to get behind the counter. If he does, you won’t be able to go anywhere.

He is telling you about how he thinks it fascinating when women scream. You are so scared, but keep nodding your head and smiling. You are scared that if you don’t, you would be the next one screaming for him. Not in a good way obviously.

This never happened before. You don’t have creepy customers. Most of the drunkards staying past their curfews are sappy drunks or straight up sleepyheads. You know most of them by now and in some weird way, you see them as friends. You see most of your regulars as friends. It’s a small town and they are always welcome here. Some you even knew all your life.

You don’t know this man. His dialect lets you know that he wasn’t from here. Probably from another province.

He is inching closer to the bar entrance, lulling his words.

“It’s also fascinating when women run. Their tits bounce. I like that.”

You nod and smile, but your fingers grasp the knife as tightly as possible. You used it to cut limes hours ago, but won’t hesitate to use it to cut a person.

His eyes flit to your chest.

“You have nice tits.”

Your hand places itself over your chest to hide away. He follows the movements of your fingers. He licks his lips.

“I’m married. Very happily.”

“So? Is a nice guy, such as myself, not allowed to compliment a nice pair of tits?”

“You know, it’s getting very late and we are actually in the middle of closing up”, you tell him, smiling the entire time, “my husband will come any second now.”

“Don’t throw me out yet, I don’t like to be denied”, he says coldly and inches closer to the entrance.

You bite down a sob. Where is your husband? Where is Jungkook? Or anyone for that matter? You are so scared.

“It doesn’t do well with me to be denied”, the man says and places his hand on the edge of the little swing door. He pushes, opens it just enough that he can take a step inside.

“Please no customers behind the bar”, you beg.

“I don’t like that”, he says with furrowed brows, “I don’t like that one bit.”

He steps closer and you flee. You were too scared to do anything else. You run with your body still turned to him.

He follows in big steps. Manages to get three steps and then gets tugged back so harshly he falls on his ass.

“The fuck are you fucker doing?” Jungkook spits, placing himself between you and the criminal. He closed up shop next doors and was in the middle of getting to you so you could drive home together when he watched you get harassed through the window. He jumped into a sprint instantly with only one thought in mind. Save you.

Your knees buckle in relief, you have to hold onto the counter because of it. You could cry. You are so relieved that it gets hard to focus.

“Baby, is he bothering you?” Jungkook asks, staring at the man. The latter currently gets back up.

“I’m not bothering her”, he says.

“Pumpkin pie, is he bothering you?” Jungkook insists.

“Yes”, you choke out, “pumpkin pie.”

You thought of the codeword a long time ago. You will call him pumpkin pie whenever you find yourself in a dangerous situation and he will know that it is serious. You agree that a silly nickname won’t call attention and keep you safe.

“Okay, Imma need you to leave this place”, Jungkook addresses the guy. He speaks darkly and with honest danger in his voice, “now.”

“I haven’t finished my drink.”

“And I don’t give a fuck, you’re gonna leave now.”

Jungkook steps closer to the guy in warning, intimidating him by making himself bigger.

It does work. Jungkook can be a really scary guy if he wants to. Obvious muscles, dark hair, black leather bike clothes and dark tattoos. Heavy boots and big rings on his hands and piercings on his face. Jungkook can be scary if he wants to and on many occasions it worked to get whatever danger was harassing you, off your ass.

Tonight it only works a little. The man stumbles back to the customer zone but then gets so angry at being pushed away that he tries to attack Jungkook.

Which was a mistake, because Jungkook has been on attack mode the moment he saw you fleeing from the man. Jungkook doesn’t even give the man a chance to lift his hand for a punch and he has already landed one straight across his face. Hard and with his restraints entirely gone. The man stumbles back and falls, hitting his elbows as they cushion his fall. He groans in pain, looking disoriented for a few seconds.

One must know one thing about Jungkook. He knows how to fight. The days on the streets taught him how to act in a real fight. The years and years of daily training helped him perfect his techniques. He knows how to throw a punch, land a kick and dodge. So the punch he threw right now, landed right where it was supposed to land. With Jungkook’s entire strength and anger bundled into it.

“Leave this fucking place!” Jungkook screams so loudly his deep voice bounces off the walls. It is distorted in anger. He doesn’t sound like your dorky, sweet husband right now.

The man, bleeding from his cheek and with his eye already starting to swell, still gets up and tries to fight him. Broken pride is the initiator. Alcohol the motivator.

Jungkook catches his hand and uses his strength against him by twirling him and pressing his arm against his back. The grip is painful. The kind police use on their victims.

The man screams up in pain and Jungkook tightens the grip.

“You’re on thin fucking ice, Imma fuck you up if you keep trying shit. Hear me? Imma actually fucking fuck you up”, Jungkook spits as he pushes the man to the door.

“You’re breaking my arm!”

“I’m gonna fucking break so much more than just your fucking arm. You motherfucker, I’m actually gonna fuck you up”, Jungkook barks, twisting his arm to the point where the criminal whimpers with buckling knees, “you think you can go around threatening my wife? I’m gonna fucking show you what this gets you, you shit low life fuck.”

“Please, it hurts you fucker!”

“Walk!”

Police is arriving outside. You called while they were busy fighting. They enter the restaurant and greet you loudly. Two take over for Jungkook. You know them well and they know you. They often times have lunch at your restaurant or if they don’t, they enjoy some burgers at Seokjin’s diner. They’re part of this town, as much as you and your friends are.

“Fucking take him, Imma actually fucking curse. Take this fucker, he was threatening my wife, acting like a predator”, Jungkook spits, “fuck, I’m so angry how dare he-”

“You did a good job, Jungkook”, the police officer tells him and steps in between, “now please stay calm. We have it from here.”

“Make sure he never leaves his cell. I hope he rots in prison. This motherfucker. He threatened my ___.”

“Stay calm. Everything will be handled, but we still need to take your testimonies. He won’t leave his cell for the night, but we need you to calm down.”

Jungkook takes a step back, “fuck”, he presses out, lifting his arms, “I’m calm. Just do what you must.”

You don’t hold back any details, telling them about the scary things the man said and how he came at you when you tried to throw him out. And while you do, you are shaking while Jungkook was holding you and trembling in anger.

They leave after making sure that the restaurant was safe. They offered to drive you home, but you told them that you can take the bike home.

You ended up keeping it parked by the restaurant and driving home with Jungkook. You hugged him so tightly that it felt as if you wanted to merge with him. All you needed was a hug. You didn’t get a proper hug yet. You didn’t feel comfortable hugging like this in front of the police.

The garage door closes behind you automatically. Jungkook is in the midst of taking off his helmet. You do the same. And while he is by the biking gear cupboard, you are still by his bike. It feels impossible to move. Jungkook places the helmet on its holder and turns to looks at you. Your eyes fill with tears instantly.

“Hey”, he is by your side immediately taking you into his arms, “I’m here, my love.”

You break. This was all it took. This one hug. His safe arms around you and his strong chest against your cheek. This is all it took to break your composure.

You sob loudly and honestly and you do so with your fingers twisting his thick leather jacket while Jungkook sways your bodies from side to side soothingly and repeatedly kisses the crow of your head.

“I’m here, I’m right here, let it all out, I’m here”, he keeps repeating over and over again.

“I was, was so scared.”

“I know baby, god I know. Nothing can get you anymore, I’m keeping you safe.”

“Kookie…”

Jungkook holds you until you calm down. He takes off the bike gear for you and then carries you inside. He sits you down on the sofa and wraps you up in a blanket. And he does all of that whilst repeating that he was here for you over and over again. It really soothed you like nothing else.

“Can you check the windows, please?” you ask because you were scared. You know that the police were taking care of it, but you were still so scared. What if the guy flees and then tries to find you? The possibilities of that happening were next to zero, but you were still so scared.

“Of course”, and so Jungkook checked every single window and he rolled down the blinds for every single one and even turned on the lights in every room. He checked the locks twice and checks the garage door once more. You were safe and the outside world was locked out.

Jungkook returns to you and squats down in front of you, taking your hands.

“Nothing can get inside”, he assures you.

Bam is by your sides, sniffling at you. His body language was tense. He must smell the anxiety. He will protect you as well if someone dares to break in.

“Thank you for checking”, you whisper shakily.

“Of course”, Jungkook straightens up and places his hand on the back of your head so he can pull you into a forehead kiss, “shit baby, I’m still so angry that I feel sick.”

“I’m so happy that you came when you did.”

“Me too, but fuck I should have come sooner.”

“Don’t blame yourself please. I’m so happy that you’re here.”

“Me too. Fuck, if something had happened to you”, his face tightens in dark anger, “I would have hunted this asshole down and killed him.”

“But it didn’t”, you reach out to caress his cheeks, “thank you for keeping me safe.”

“I’ll always keep you safe.”

You feel so grateful for him. So, so grateful that you have to pull him into a kiss. Gentle and filled with eternal love. Jungkook kisses you back with just as much love and his hands cradling your face. You end it with a gentle nudge to his nose.

“Thank you, my love”, you whisper, “I still feel shaken up, but I know that I don’t have anything to worry about because you’re with me.”

“And I always will”, he assures you and seals the promise with a loving kiss. He kisses your cheek afterwards, caressing your skin with his thumb, “now stay, I’m making you some tea to calm the nerves.”

That night, Jungkook holds you as you fall asleep, running his fingers over your scalp until you find peace of mind and rest.

You wake again when you can hear Jungkook leave the bedroom. You check the clock. It’s been an hour since you went to bed. Feeling incredibly cold without his hug and just a little scared without his protection, you roll out of bed to follow him. You follow him all the way to the kitchen.

The lights by the sink were on. Otherwise the room is dark. He is sitting on the counter and is pressing an ice pack to his knuckles.

“Sweetheart, are you okay?” you ask into the silence.

Jungkook lifts his head. His messy hair hangs into his eyes.

“What are you doing up?” he gasps, “go back to bed, sweetheart.”

“I can’t sleep without you. Are you hurting?”

Jungkook removes the ice pack and shows off his bruised, swollen hand.

“I hit him with all my strength. The rings tug into my hand.”

“Holy fuck, it looks terrible. Sweetheart, we should go to the hospital”, you gasp, hurrying to him to take his hand and inspect it.

“It’s okay. It’s just bruised. I can still move my fingers, so nothing’s broken.”

“Kookie”, you press out and lean down to kiss his knuckles, “why didn’t you tell me?”

“I just didn’t wanna worry you.”

“God, no”, you choke out, “I’m so sorry.”

“For what?”

“You got hurt because of me.”

“Hey. Stop that”, he says sternly and tugs you between his legs. He tilts your head up, staring deeply into your eyes. His bruised hand is the one cradling your cheek, “I’d take a fucking bullet for you, so don’t you ever apologise for this again. I’m happy I got these bruises because it means you were safe.”

You whimper and spill tears.

“Hey, my darling”, he speaks softly and pulls you against his chest. He hugs you safely, swaying you from side to side, “everything’s gonna be alright. I’m here now. Your hubby’s here.”

“Kookie, I love you”, you choke out, “I love you so much.”

“Well, I love you too my baby”, he says and kisses the crown of your head, “you should go to sleep, staying awake will only hurt you. I can see how it hurts you.”

“I can’t fall asleep without you.”

“Okay, I’ll just take care of my hand and then we can cuddle.”

“No”, you step back and take his bruised hand, “I wanna take care of it.”

“You don’t have to.”

“No, no I want to”, you say in a tiny, sad voice, shaking your head vigorously.

Jungkook can see that you aren’t yourself right now, that you fell into this very vulnerable, almost child-like headspace. And that this was the result of a traumatic day, which has been dragging on for way too long. You got this way two times before. Once when you found out about your grandparents’ house burning down and the second time was when you dreamt of what happened in the alley years ago and he had to shake you awake. He was there for you on both occasions and he will make sure that he is there for you right now.

“Okay fine”, he gives in because he knows that this is what you need, “but let’s not do it here. Let’s go upstairs.”

“Yes, please.”

Jungkook sits down on the bathtub. Only the small mirror cabinet light is turned on, painting the walls of the bathroom in a faint golden shine. You hurry to your medicine cabinet and take out everything you need.

“Give me your hand”, you ask him quietly.

Jungkook offers it to you, running his thumb over your skin as you inspect him.

“It looks so painful”, you get out and choke down a whimper, “Googie.”

“It’ll heal, don’t worry.”

“Googie, please lets go to the hospital.”

“It’s not that bad, I promise”, he assures you and tilts your head up with two of his fingers holding your chin. His eyes are filled with adoration, “but I’ll go the doctors tomorrow, yeah? So we can be sure that it’s just bruised.”

“Yes, please go”, you pout, “it, it looks so painful.”

“It already hurts a little less because you’re taking care of it.”

A small smile curls at your lips. You lower your eyes and let out a shy giggle. Jungkook smiles upon hearing it, running his thumb over your cheek. He leans in and kisses whatever part of your head he can naturally reach.

“I’ll put cream on it now”, you say.

“Yes, do that. Thank you, sweetie. You’re taking such great care of me”, he speaks softly, guiding his hand from your face to your hip so he can massage it slowly. The touch feels really good to you, letting you know that he will always be there for you.

You make sure to be as careful as possible, spreading the healing cream with nothing more than a featherlight touch. The knuckle on his ring finger carries the smallest of cuts. It’s where he wore his heaviest ring. You look up at him and he gives you a reassuring smile.

“It doesn’t hurt”, he whispers, nodding his head, “keep going, you’re doing so well.”

“You, you really gotta let a doctor look at it tomorrow.”

“I will, baby. Promise. First thing I’ll do is drive to the doctors.”

“Yes. Good”, you say, now moving on to healing the knuckle of his pinky. It only carries a small bruise, “Googie, I wanna stay at home tomorrow. I’m scared to go back.”

“This is totally understandable. I think a day off sounds like a good plan. You deserve to have some rest. I’m sure that Steph can manage the place perfectly. I’ll talk to her after I went to the doctors, yeah?”

You nod your head, “thank you, Googie.”

“Of course baby, don’t mention it.”

You look up at him, “I finished the cream.”

“Yeah?” Jungkook gives your hand a gentle squeeze. It hurts a lot when he does, but he doesn’t let it show for your sake, “it already hurts so much less, thank you baby.”

“Was…was I able to help?”

“Yes baby, you helped a lot”, he assures you and pulls you into his arms. He kisses your cheek and seconds later, has you making yourself smaller so you can rest your head on his shoulder, “thank you so much, I couldn’t have done it any better.”

You snuggle into him, release a shaky breath of relief.

“Now”, he begins and squeezes your buttock, “let’s finally get back to bed and sleep the day off. Yeah?”

“Yeah. I’m so tired.”

Ever since that day, Jungkook closes his shop one hour earlier just so he can stay with you until you close up. And if anyone was wondering, Jungkook kept his promise and went to the doctors. His hand was bruised, but will heal just fine.

#jungkook fanfic #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook scenario #jungkook oneshot #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts scenario #bts oneshot #bts x reader #bts x you #bangtan fanfic #bangtan fanfiction #bangtan scenario #bangtan oneshot #bangtan x reader #bangtan x you #fanfic: ogc

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thoughtless-muse · 5 months

Text

“scout’s honor,” [series]

|| daryl dixon x fem!reader

SUMMARY: daryl dixon was everything you despised in a man: rude, unkempt, derisive, scornful and unarticulated. yet, daryl dixon was also everything you craved in a man: mysterious, rugged, self-sufficient, masculine, aloof, and much older than yourself. it was the worst sort of enigma to place yourself in, especially during the throes of a damn apocalypse – and yet here you were, fighting tooth and nail to try and get closer to the man who hadn’t even bothered to tell you his name himself.

GENRES: angst, romance, fluff, slow-burn, hurt/comfort, smut

RATING: 18+, adult only

C/W: ricks!sister!reader, fem!reader, typical TWD violence/gore, slow-burn, grief, depression, unsettling themes, blood, injuries, trauma, alcohol/alcoholism, tobacco use, language, explicit sexual content, allusions/brief attempts at SA, suspense, more to be added

TOTAL CHAPTERS: 2/?

CURRENT WORDCOUNT: 7.8k

TOTAL WORDCOUNT: to be determined…

A/N: this series is going to closely follow the structure of the show, but will have minor and major adjustments to the events. I’m not sure how far I’m going to take this little series, though I do know that I’ll be spending quite a bit of time in seasons one and two, and I have plans to venture into the further seasons as well (I currently just started the 8th season). I hope you all can enjoy this adventure with me!

prologue: start of doomsday

chapter one: dislocated introductions

chapter two: buy me a drink, then we’ll talk history

chapter three: shane walsh is a grade-a dickbag

chapter four: back from the dead

chapter five: the city to ash, a full speed dash

[note: these titles are not hyperlinked because the installments are yet to come. I’m working on the drafts at the moment, and they will be posted in order once finished.] [more to come]

#daryl x reader #twd daryl #twd x reader #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl imagines #daryl x female reader #daryl x you #the walking dead daryl #twd

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wowzah2nd · 3 months

Text

The Joys Of Marriage

Loki x Reader

wordcount: 1.5k

In a realm where Alfheim and Asgard have been embroiled in a centuries-long war without knowing its cause, Princess Y/N L/N of Alfheim lives neglected and despised by her father, King F/N L/N. Despite being the eldest, her younger siblings receive affection while she is marginalized within the palace. Her life takes an unexpected turn when her father informs her of an arranged marriage to Loki Odinson, what will this marriage hold for the princess and prince?

For some reason, Alfheim and Asgard had been at war with one another for centuries to the point that the two current rulers, F/N L/N and Odin Borson had no idea what the fight was about. You could most definitely research what was the reason but you couldn’t be bothered. Why bother to help your father who barely cared for your existence?

In all honesty, you had no idea why your father hated you. He loved your sister, the youngest one Alara. She was elegant, sweet as can be at least to others. she saw you as lesser than her, then there was your brother Cohnal he was the middle child. He was always berating you saying “ how could you possibly be my sister”. Even though you were the eldest he was to be next in line for the throne which saddened you since it was supposed to be you to be heir to the throne. Father had spoken to you when you were young about how you'd be an amazing ruler then one day just before your mother had passed that changed. You never knew why.

The Day your mother died was the saddest day for you it felt like you whole world crumbled you of course attend the funeral and so did you father but he looked like he didn’t even want to be there. Soon after the funeral your father remarried and got her pregnant. She also hated you.

Over the years you've learned to accept and ignore their attitude towards you and accepted it. To help avoid any more conflict you were moved to the other side of the palace. At some point, people started calling you the forgotten princess and honestly, you wish they did so maybe you could run away and live somewhere more peaceful. But for some reason your father kept you around but you never knew why till today.

Today was the day the Alfheim and Asgard would create a peace treaty and the meeting was to held in Alfheim. And for the first time in thousands of years your father visited you personally in your chambers.

you were reading next to the Window to better see your book but also because you occasionally liked to look up from your book to look at the view. That was one of the only things great about you being moved to the other part of the palace you had a beautiful view of your private garden. But your reading was disturbed by a knock at the door.

Man: May I come in

Y/N: Enter

as you watched the door open you were surprised to see it was your father. You quickly stood up as a sign of respect, even though you hated him for the years of neglect you rather not get banished or killed for treason.

Y/N: What do I owe the pleasure of seeing you today father

You could see on his face that he didn't wanna see you or even talk to you but you had a feeling that it there was a reason for it

F/N: You will attend today's peace treaty and attend the meeting

Y/N: Why do I need to attend you've never needed or wanted me to attend any sort of event why now

he gave you a stern look that told you to shut up

F/N: You watch your tongue child, or else...

Y/N: Yes father

you were always scared when he got like this, but you really hated the fact that for thousands of years you never attend ball, public appearances or even family dinners but now he needed you it pissed you off

F/N: you need to attend because you have been arranged to marry one of the princes of asgard. More specifically loki odinson.

you started at him in shock you were arranged married with out your consent or even knowleged. you were just abotu to blow uo at his face till you calmed down and thought for a second. This was your chnce to leave this wreched palce to live a life away from a family the hated and dispiseed you. Even though you knew there could be a possiblity that you husband to be would hate you it couldnt be any worse then living with these people

Y/N: Very well i shall attend

your father looked at you surprised he was probably expecting you to kick and scream that you won't get married. This was easier than he thought.

F/N: ill see you this afternoon at the peace treaty signing

After he had left you room you collapsed back into th chair you were sitting in and gave out a long sigh, this may be your only chance to leave this palace so you were a little excited for something knew.

Later that afternoon

Your personal maid had helped you to get dressed and then had lead you into the meeting room. Once there she left you to enter on your own. Before going in you took a long deep breath then knocked

F/N: Enter

Even though no one had seen you in thousands of years people knew by the clothing as well as the tiara you wore that you were clearly one of the princess on this kingdom and rose as a sign respect.

Y/N: please no need to stand on my account please be seated

Everybody listened and sat back down, you made you way to your father side there was no seat for you so you stood next to him as he spoke.

F/N:Today we sign this treaty as a sign that the war is over and that by signing it we agree that war between our kingdom is forbbidon and that if any of the rules in the treaty is broke then war shal resume. Are we all in agreement

Everyone: YES!!

As your father signed the treaty he gave it to one of the knights in the room, where he took it from your father and walked to the other side of the table giving it to the man who you've seen in illustration in books as Odin. The knight placed the treaty in front of him and once placed it was signed then given to someone who you assumed was a notary from both your kingdom and theirs to verify the signing and announce the treaty has been officially signed and to inform both kingdoms.

The room erupted in cheer since an era of peace for both kingdoms was to start and that war would be no longer. Then you father stood up from his seat to announce something as well. You knew what was coming and gave a solemn look knowing that he only needed you for this and nothing more, you were nothing but a tool to the man.

F/N: And to further the peace between kingdoms my daughter Y/N L/N princess of the Alfheim kingdom is to marry Loki Odinson prince of Asgard to solidify the two kingdoms' union.

Odin gestured for his son to rise and for the first time you saw him and made eye contact with him he was beautiful and you felt bad for him having to marry someone like you. You felt as if something was wrong with you since not even your own family wanted you and now you were gonna be given to someone else. Odin told everyone in the room to leave besides yourself and lok saying “ let's allow the betrothed acquaint themselves with one another”. Everyone left but you and loki you knew he didn’t wanna be married off but seemed like he was doing this for a reason so before he could speak you spoke first.

Y/N: I’m sorry you have to marry me. I can kinda tell this isn’t want you wanted and think that you had to do this cause of you father. Ill tell you this now i was too so i know how you feel.

He looked at me surprised most likely thinking i knew of this arranged meant and that it was him forced

Loki: well im glad im not alone in this then

You point to a seat and he made his way to the chair and sat down and you sat down next to him. Even though you had heard storieso of the prince he was different in person it seemed like he had changed in a way even though you didn’t know him personally but he wasn’t what the stories made him to be.

Y/N: ill make you a deal my prince. If you promise to marry me and take me away from this place ill make you life a bit more interesting and make this life long sentence of marriage easier for us

He looked at me shocked he didn’t think i was going to be so forward or even confident

Loki: oh really now and how would you do that…my princess

You gave him a genuine smile seeing as he entertained your question you knew he’d marry you

Y/N: well my prince i promise to fill you life with both mischief and joy

At that he was silent the mischief part he loved but he never had anyone promise him joy all his life he was ignore by his father and lived in the shadows of his brother. This could be a somewhat enjoyable marriage

------------------------------------------------------------------------------Should i continue the story????

#loki #lokixreader #arranged marriage #loki odinson #thor odinson #loki friggason #romance #strangers to lovers #friends to lovers #pining #fluff

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justporo · 11 months

Text

Office Hours

Author's Note: This - this is finally the promised wizard smut with Professor Gale Dekarios. I've written this as a fill for Kinktober Challenge. Please enjoy, while I go bury myself. I'm so excited to hear your feedback, because writing this was daunting. Happy Halloween!

Summary: You took up a PhD project under the infamous Professor for Wizardry Gale Dekarios but you also have a huge crush on him. Stuff getting a little heated at a party could almost ruin your future though. Things between you and Professor Dekarios are tense from there on out - until you go to confront him about it. (All characters are over 18!)

Pairing: Professor!Gale / Fem!Tav (You) Rating: Explicit Warnings: explicit sexual content! Wordcount: 8,2k (I'm so sorry...)

~~~

Another shot of tequila was placed in front of you.

“Bottom’s up, love!”, Astarion cheerfully exclaimed and clanked his own shot against yours. You drunkenly turned your head towards him. As always when you went for a night out with your best friend, he kept putting drinks (and a reasonable amount of water in between) in front of you while he barely seemed to get drunk.

“We’re not even bothering with salt and lem-lemons anymore?”, you drawled sluggishly. It was time to stop soon as long as you were still able to remember what you were doing.

Astarion didn’t even reply just kept swaying to the beat of the current song blasting through the club and clinked his glass against yours again to make you take it. And so you did.

You both threw your drinks back and shuddered when the liquor ran down your throats. “You’re really pushing me tonight, Astarion”, you screamed over the loud blasting music.

“Yeah well”, he shrugged as his eyes wandered back to the dancefloor and the hunk of a man he’d been dancing with almost the whole night – at least when you hadn’t danced with him.

“It’s not every day that my bestie has to celebrate that renowned PhD position with the infamous Professor Dekarios, is it?”, Astarion screamed back at you.

And it was true, it most definitely wasn’t every day. Because not only did you get the approval of the prodigy professor who was famously known for being strict and very demanding to be your supervisor. But you were the only one he’d taken on for a PhD project since… well, since he was in the position to do so it seemed. he’d t

But you had thus far always excelled in his classes. You’d been the very role model student during your time here.

And sure, you had worked your ass off for it, but it was well worth it. A finished PhD under a prodigy such as Gale Dekarios of Waterdeep would open you every door in the wizarding world.

It might also have helped that you had a huge crush on Professor Dekarios. The way this man spoke passionately about all things Wizardry and Weave had captured you from the very beginning. Just how his whole demeanor changed when he started talking about his research and how passionate he became. The way his eyes lit up when he got to talk about his work.

And then also: how he absent-mindedly let his hands wander through his hair when he was thinking about how to word something. How he let his thumb wander over his bottom lip as he intently listened to one of your questions and praised you afterwards for how clever it had been.

It was safe to say you had found yourself daydreaming about what else that man could do with that eloquent mouth of his more than once. Or how it would be if he praised you for more than just your smartass little questions.

“You know he’s here tonight, don’t you? Since it’s a faculty party”, Astarion kept on yelling into your ear, already grabbing the shot glasses to go get more.

“WHAT?”, you screamed – and this time it was clearly audible over the music in the club. You stared at Astarion in shock.

“Love, it’s your faculty and you brought me here, might I add. Shouldn’t you know about this kind of stuff? I saw him when I went to the bar”, Astarion yelled back with a mocking grin. Then he was off again with a naughty wink to get new drinks.

He was right. He was actually a history PhD student and had nothing to do with your wizarding studies. And still he always seemed to be better informed about these gossipy bits of information.

You gulped when you were reminded of what kind of revealing dress you were wearing tonight – black, short, low cut waterfall neckline. The thought that Professor Dekarios might have seen you in it and how you had danced in it – it scared you and excited you at the same time.

The fact that you were already solidly drunk definitely meant that it was leaning more towards the latter.

And then, sure as all Hells, you saw him: Professor Gale Dekarios walking into this part of club.

He looked a little out of place with his slacks and shirt-sweater combination – totally dressed for teaching, grading and researching and not for going down at the club.

Dekarios walked over to some people standing in a loose circle – people you realised now were other faculty members. You watched him intently – noticing the little details while you were drowned by increasingly unhinged thoughts. You saw that his shirt wasn’t neatly tugged in anymore, one hand was casually in his pocket while the other held a glass of red wine nonchalantly by the rim – letting it hang by his side. Sometime during conversation, he absent-mindedly dragged his hand through his hair. He always did that when he was deep in thought or having one of his passionate scholarly monologues during a lecture.

For all the scholarly nerdiness (and sometimes cute awkwardness) this man possessed – he was effortlessly sexy when he felt relaxed it seemed. And man, were you down bad for him.

You were still staring at Dekarios’ butt – that actually looked formidable in his slacks - when Astarion returned and slid another drink over to you. He saw how absent-mindedly you were staring off into the distance and tried to figure out what you were looking at.

When he did, a feral grin split his face: “Honestly, I’d fuck him if given the chance.”

“Astarion!” You whacked his arm as you were ripped out of your stupor.

“Don’t act like that, sweetheart, I know you would get on your knees so quickly for that man. I’ve had to listen to your horny yearnings for two years, remember?”

You blushed because he was right – as he sadly mostly was. The shit-eating grin stayed firmly on Astarion’s stupid face as he looked at you

“Yeah, as if anything would ever happen”, you simply retorted then, not wanting to indulge your friend’s insolent behaviour any further.

“And yet you keep wearing sluttly little outfits to all his classes”, Astarion drawled and his eyebrow twitched while he called you out. “I do believe even wizards have eyes to see what is right in front of them – even though it’s mostly just books.”

“That coming from a godsdamned history student is really low”, you replied and left it at that.

You were not having this conversation right now. So you settled for whacking Astarion’s arm again - which made him hiss at you that he hadn’t even said anything anymore - and then grabbing the drink he’d brought you, downing it in one go.

“Maybe instead of calling me out you could double down on your other best friend duties and go dance with me again?”, you suggested after suppressing a shudder from the downed alcohol.

Astarion just replied with grinning at you and stretched out his arm in an elegant gesture towards the dancefloor, motioning you to get going then.

You went and danced, having even some more drinks while doing that. That man built like a massive tree eventually joined the two of you as he had been dancing with Astarion before. He introduced himself as Halsin and told you that he was a visiting researcher – only staying for a little while at your institution.

You exchanged some small talk per screaming while on the dancefloor. But shortly after it was back to your best friend Astarion and him dancing and eventually even making out with each other.

You didn’t mind at all – in fact you were happy Astarion seemed to enjoy himself. And you happily let them have their space and just let yourself be taken by the music.

You swayed and rocked to the beats, lifted your arms and rolled your hips – enjoying how good the movements made you feel.

A soft buzz coming from your hip and the tiny bag swinging there made you look at your phone after a while. It was Astarion.

“Gonna leave with our new friend if that’s ok with u? Wanna make sure he remembers his time here well!”

Gods, even after a night out with lots of drinking Astarion was still wasting time on being eloquent.

“Go get it bestie”, you simply replied and grinned at yourself. You were already excited to hear about it afterwards when you next up with Astarion for a coffee or something.

You received one more text from Astarion asking you to text him when you got home safely. You agreed with a quick text and then went back to dancing.

All the booze you’ve had was giving you the confidence to keep going on the dancefloor even though the club was finally emptying bit by bit. The songs played were less popular now but therefore more enthralling and so you let yourself get dragged along by the music.

Until you opened your eyes and saw that you were being watched. And not by just anyone.

A bit off the dance floor Professor Dekarios was sitting on his own now in one of the leather seats there, his legs spread. He was holding another glass of red wine, carefully placed on one of the armrests. His other hand was at his chin – motionless though. You could see his single earring glint in the flickering club lights. His one side of hair was fanned out around his head.

He sat there like a statue – just very intently staring at you, giving you an immediate feeling of being stripped bare before him. He wasn’t even reacting to you catching him staring.

At least that was what you thought. But then you noticed the prominent bulge between his legs, straining against the fabric of his slacks.

Your lips parted in silent surprise and you immediately felt how your nipples hardened and rubbed against your dress in arousal. You gulped and wet your lips while your whole mouth suddenly felt overwhelmingly dry.

When you looked up again you saw just the slightest sparkle in the eyes of your observer.

And that – probably in combination with all the liquid courage you had consumed tonight - was enough to get you going again.

Knowing the audience, you then began to dance again – putting in even more effort than before: fluid motions, making your hips roll more prominently, dragging up the skirt of your dress just a little too much as you turned around to give him a view of your back.

You let your hands wander up your front when you turned around again, deliberately letting them linger on your breasts and squeezing them as you dragged your hands up and feeling them softly jiggle when you let them go again.

When you looked at your watcher you saw how he had leaned forward slightly in his seat now. Bulge now even more prominently outlined against his pants if that was even possible. His thumb wandering over the bottom lip of his open mouth as he watched you – just like he did when you asked an incredibly smart question in one of his courses.

You were feeling feverish and heedlessly aroused, probably dripping wet too. The thought of just sauntering over and sitting on his lap and pushing your boobs in his face crossed your mind as you turned around again to give him more opportunity to stare at your ass.

And when you turned around again…

The spell was broken. Someone had come over to Dekarios and engaged him in conversation. You saw how he had awkwardly placed his one arm over where his testament of arousal was probably still clearly obvious. He didn’t acknowledge you with a single glance anymore.

And you felt like someone had poured ice cold water over you. The heat of desire and lust quickly replaced with the heat of burning shame. You felt cheap suddenly and very self-conscious. At least the club was so empty now that mostly anyone else wouldn’t have noticed – or they’d been way too out of it to care.

You stormed off the dancefloor and out of the club, already regretting how you had it let come to this. Hoping you wouldn’t have just ruined everything you’ve worked so hard for.

Six months later…

Stuff had mostly went backwards and downhill from that party night on. Although Astarion had congratulated you and while he had wheezed and applauded you when you had told him about what had happened after he'd left. But you had barely been able to eat up your shame to resume attending Professor Dekarios’ lectures. Your keen sense of duty being the only thing that forced you back there after you had allowed yourself to miss a few classes because you wouldn’t have been able to handle it at all.

And when you had finally managed you had been smitten with completely being ignored by the man itself. He rarely acknowledged you anymore in his lectures, brushed over your questions and avoided you at every cost. That meant barely any eye contact, not even when he had to speak to you in public, no communication on your research project whatsoever and he mysteriously managed to never meet you walking around campus.

You had felt guilty and afraid at first – fearing that at some point you would just receive a formal letter that told you that you and your appointed studies were dropped without further notice.

But when that didn’t happen, you couldn't also help to feel at least a smidge of anger whenever you thought about it: obviously you had been trying to commit yourself to forget what had happened and start working on your research project. Why did he have to insist on making it awkward?

You wouldn't bring up the topic, certainly. You were prepared to just act like nothing ever happened at all – even if you would remember it every single time you looked at the man. Forever reminded of the shame of that moment; but also: the desire he had looked at you with and the lust you had felt for him.

But you'd be lying to yourself if you didn’t admit that you were mostly just majorly worried. Not only because of how he was behaving towards you in public but also because of how it impacted your project. Not once had you spoken about your planned research.

So you had started on it alone. Spent countless hours researching literature, trying to find the right focus for your project, marking off topics and theories. You had worked on your exposé for the last couple of months now – once you had gotten over the fear of just being dropped like a hot potato. And you had sent it in weeks ago and not received a single shred of feedback. Which meant that, despite being pretty sure that you did good work and put in the necessary thought, finesse and care to let it live up to Professor Dekarios’ standards, you were worried sick that you wouldn’t be able to go anywhere with it.

You really feared that what you had thought first after the party had become true: you fucked up your once in a lifetime chance at breakthrough research about the Weave. And on top of that you had ruined your relationship with someone you deeply admired.

But recently shame and guilt had mostly subsided to allow feelings of rising anger. You came back to the thought of how ridiculously he behaved: if you were an adult about it all you would have hoped he would be too. If he would even talk to you at all – you’d take being screamed over this horrible silent treatment any day.

And after sulking in your own misery for way too long, you found it was time to confront him finally. You probably wouldn't exactly be the bigger person about it - but at least you wouldn't be the one running away.

When the next date for his office hours came around, you threw on some of the nicest clothes you had. A low cut blouse and faux-leather pencil skirt you knew your ass looked amazing in - at least Astarion always whistled and affectionately slapped your butt anytime he saw you wearing it.

You knew you were absolutely pushing it but that was exactly what you wanted: forcing this godsdamned prodigy wizard to man up and either tell you off for good or just... settle the unfinished business. Either way would be fine for you by now, you just wanted to be out of this limbo state.

You made your way over campus to his office, in your head already riling yourself up to be appropriately angry when you confronted him. Stomping over the university grounds while you imagined countless scenarios and outcomes and already felt good about your decision to finally take action.

But your righteous fury hit some bumps quickly.

The first thing that took you aback was the small sticky note at his office door telling anyone to just come in and that he'd be back very soon.

This was almost enough already to take the wind out of your sails completely. You had hoped to throw open his door dramatically and scream at him to either give you proper feedback on your exposé or just stick it up his godsdamned wizard arse.

You swallowed and tried to retain your anger as you opened the door.

You had only been to his office a few times before you had taken up the PhD project.

It was beautiful, a dream for anyone who was in love with magic and books and studying: the walls were lined with dark bookshelves and loads of magical trinkets, just anything imaginable. Even though dark wood dominated the room it wasn’t gloomy but rather cozy and welcoming.

The eye was quickly drawn to the huge wooden desk centred at the back with a huge window behind it. Stacked on it were books and papers. Dekarios believed in being old school when it came to his studies and work, you knew as much.

You were in awe - and absolutely jealous.

"Hello visitor, Mr Dekarios has just gone out to get coffee", you heard a voice from somewhere behind the desk.

You were only shortly confused because the voice quickly turned out to be Tara, Professor Dekarios' tressym that lived with him, when the gentle beast jumped up on the desk. Only once before had you had the pleasure of speaking with her - she was truly a gentle and very sweet soul.

"He will be back sho-. Oh, it's you!", she said and interrupted herself. Her long fluffy tail started swish-swishing behind her while she sat down on the very middle of the desk. Her yellow cat eyes observed you cautiously – but not unfriendly.

Your brows furrowed. You couldn't believe though that the small creature would actually remember you from just speaking with you once.

But it seemed the tressym had read your mind on that because she angled her head as you came closer and then said: "Mr Dekarios speaks a lot about you, you know."

You would have given a good amount of gold to be able to read the expression on the cat's face better.

"He does?", you answered dumbfoundedly. "Because he hasn't really talked to me in actual months." The fluffy tail flicked forcefully around once when you said that but then Tara just kept looking at you.

"Of course, he does! He basically never shuts up about you. And I'm pretty sure he almost never stops thinking about you either, it's uh-"

The tressym's tail flicked around even more and she worked her front paws around, almost as if she was shuffling around awkwardly.

"A bit unnerving sometimes", Tara finished and cocked her head again, looking up at you curiously.

You felt yourself blush and desperately tried not to think too much about what the creature could have meant.

"Although, I have to say, I fear you kind of messed with his mind that night some months ago even though he wouldn't tell me exactly what had made him so... upset. And then of course he had his own bad experiences in the past when he was in your position. But Mr Dekarios tends to forget that he's quite a different person than his former... acquaintance."

You could barely believe your ears. Also you were probably absolutely tomato red from your neck up. You did not exactly know what had happened to the anger you had come here with, but it surely wasn't present anymore - at least for the time being.

The fact that you seemingly were a predominant thing on the mind of your professor was disarming to say the least. And also you had the feeling that the tressym had just let you in on some quite personal stuff about Professor Dekarios although you could not make sense of any of it.

When he had been in your position? Former acquaintance? What was that supposed to mean?

The subject matter chose this exact moment to enter the scene.

"Tara has anyone...", Professor Gale Dekarios said while he flung open his office door with a coffee in his other hand.

His mouth immediately snapped shut again when he spotted you as you had turned around at the sound of the opening door.

You stared at each other for a very long moment.

"I'll leave you two alone, excuse me", Tara said cheerfully, jumped off the desk and sauntered out of the room through the door that was still being held open by the wizard. You weren’t entirely sure but you thought you heard Tara hiss “be nice to her, I like her” in passing to her wizard before she slipped out the door.

Tara's departure helped you both out of your stupor. Dekarios closed the door behind himself and awkwardly kept standing around at the entrance of his office. Meanwhile you crossed your arms over your chest and felt at least some of the anger return at the sight of him.

"Tav", he said. His tone was defeated and you could see his shoulders visibly slump. It easily ignited the rest of your fury in you again.

"Professor Dekarios", you almost spat.

"Please. Just call me Gale."

And snap - the anger was gone again. It was ridiculous how easily this man could change your mood just like that.

Gale started to walk over to you as you noticed that he was wearing almost the same thing he had that night at the club. You couldn’t help but blush.

The wizard's brown eyes were filled with a wild mix of emotions you couldn’t quite interpret as he came closer. He ran his free hand through his hair in a nervous gesture, making his single earring swing around as he brushed against it accidentally.

You swallowed and lifted up your chin - not wanting to give in to him and his beaten puppy behaviour.

"I guess it was about time we talked, wasn't it?", Gale said when he was standing almost right in front of you.

He leaned around you to put down his coffee in a to-go cup on his desk.

You couldn't help but to catch his scent: soft cologne, the smell of books, the fresh coffee he had been carrying. Involuntarily your lips parted.

But you quickly bit down on them, you wouldn't lose composure now.

"You think?", you spat when some anger flared up again. You immediately regretted it. The last time you had your whimsical emotions take over had been the instance to get you in all the mess.

The anger was mirrored in Gale's eyes for a short few moments. Then he calmed down again quickly and just sighed defeatedly.

"You're angry with me", he simply said. His voice was deep and warm. He was now standing directly in front of you. His gaze directly on you. And you saw how his eyes flicked down and up again. Several times.

You felt that you lost the grip on your anger with the way he looked at you so sadly. So you decided to make a last ditch effort before you would probably just break down crying or running from his office – and all of this would have been for naught.

"Yes, I am angry with you", you almost yelled at him. And you forced yourself to be done with being taken aback by small details now.

Before you could think better of it you launched into the rant you had long prepared: "You took me in as you're PhD student, so you promised to help and supervise me with my research. I worked my ass off in the last months. I sent you my exposé which is - as you might know as a scholar yourself - quite critical to get started, or find scholarships for that matter. I did a lot of research already. I had countless sleepless nights. My caffeine intake has become more than unhealthy. And never ONCE did I receive an ounce of your help." You really made yourself more enraged now as you kept talking. Finally letting it all out felt incredibly freeing.

Gale's eyes mirrored what you were feeling. You were certain, he was probably just as upset as you, but you couldn't care less in this moment.

"And if all of this is caused by that one night at the club, the fucking faculty party, might I tell you: seriously, fuck you! I've seen exactly how you looked at me! I didn’t just make an arse of myself, you did too! And if you can’t handle that fact, either tell me to just go fuck off and I'll be gone or man up and stop avoiding me or..."

You let the last part hang up in the air.

Gale's eyes were ablaze by now. He stepped in closer to you. You had never seen him be this intense. Not even when he was talking about his most passionate areas of his work.

"Do you really think I act like this because it is fun for me?", he snapped at you, his tone had taken on an authoritative tone. A tone that usually only came out when he was putting someone in his place – the scholarly way.

He kept walking towards you, making you take steps back. "You might think it was easy for me the last couple of months. But I had to look at you, every godsdamned lecture when you wear stuff like this." He gesticulated at your outfit, licking his lips and letting his eyes drop to your dangerously deep neckline. "Making me remember how you danced for me that night. Making me think of what might have happened." You stumbled against the edge of his desk, unable to keep your distance from him now.

And he was still coming closer, until you almost lost your balance trying to keep some space between the two of you, almost falling onto the piece of furniture behind you. You could already feel the heat his body was giving off.

He still didn’t stop, until there was in fact not a mere inch between you and his body pressed against yours even though you tried to lean back on the table.

"I am only trying to protect you", Gale continued his tone now pleading, his eyes soft and full of worry – but not hiding what lay beneath that. He was so close you could see every little detail of him: the lines of the mysterious tattoo swirling over his neck and cheek, the scruff of his beard, his soft eyes and the strands of grey in his hair, the subtle wrinkles around his eyes or the worry lines on his forehead.

But this made you angry again. Who was he to tell you what you needed protection from? But then you shortly remembered Tara's words – a flash through your mind.

But you were set on your course now. The way your body reacted to the closeness of this man you’ve had so many fantasies about being the proof you hadn’t really needed anyway.

And before you could try and think better of it you exclaimed: “Or – instead of patronising me – you could do us both a favour and just fuck me, so we can both get the hells over with it!”

You were shocked by your own courage and rashness, but it was quite apparent that this man made you do things: once that night in the club, now – not to mention that he was a major part of why you chose to pursue a PhD in the first place.

Gale’s mouth dropped open in astonishment and surprise for a moment, a sound somewhere between gasp and moan left his lips.

Then he regained his senses, desire flashing in his eyes, and he flipped you over, bending you over the desk.

It was your turn to gasp and moan in surprise. You barely caught yourself with your arms, accidentally pushing off some papers and books in the process. Also knocking over the cup of coffee that just fell on the floor and spilled on the floor.

Gale immediately secured your position against his desk with his own body, pressing his hips against your backside you hoped looked just as delicious as you had planned now.

Your thoughts on that immediately disappeared though when you felt Gale’s erection press against your ass. He was already rock-hard, making you gasp more.

“Are you really sure this is what you want?”, he asked with a husky voice. You merely managed to nod and let out a breathy moan, enjoying how quickly had turned around again – this time in your absolute favour.

“Gods know I really want to see what that brain of yours can do but I’d be lying to myself if I didn’t admit that I have to say the same thing about your delectable butt you keep presenting to me”, Gale admitted in a haughty voice as he pressed himself harder against you, making the edge of the desk deliciously bite into your thighs.

You swallowed when what was happening started to settle in rationally – not just carnally. At the same time you could feel how helplessly needy you already felt, how lust pooled between your legs and flooded back again through your whole body. You had thought about this for so long but now being at his mercy felt better than anything your mind could have come up with.

Gale’s hands wandered over your ass in your skirt but the caress was still hesitant, although you could feel that the wizard was already breathing raggedly – the rise and fall of his body pressing you harder against the wood.

“Are you really sure you want to do this? Say it. Please!”, Gale whispered hoarsely, asking you again, although you could already feel how he had started to move one of his legs in between your thighs now and how his hands had wandered below the hem of your skirt and readied themselves to hike it up.

You pushed yourself up from the desk, turning around to him give him the most incredulous of looks: “I had six months to decide if I was sure about this, Gale Dekarios of Waterdeep. I was probably already sure of it when I saw you sitting in this nightclub flaunting a major erection and I made my boobs jiggle for you! I came here dressed like THIS.” You almost yelled at him. How did this idiot have you bent over his godsdamned desk and still hadn’t gotten the fucking memo?

“Well, no need to yell at me – I can hear you quite perfectly from here, thank you”, Gale replied and threw on his snappy professor voice that usually only those students got that annoyed him. He slapped your butt too and made you shut up really quickly before you could make a sassy remark.

Then he turned around slightly and you saw how he effortlessly used mage hand to turn the lock on the door. And with a quick incantation it began to glow also. You knew that spell and knew also that it wasn’t an easy feat to accomplish. Your mouth fell open.

When Gale turned back around again he took a deep breath and ran one of his hands through his hair, closing his eyes for a short moment and making the strands of brown with some grey fan around his face – all while still having you immobile between his body and his desk. Your mouth felt dry watching him do that – just casually locking you in his office with him; with one of the most powerful lock spells known to the wizarding world. And he didn’t even blink.

“There”, Gale simply said and rolled the tongue around in his mouth, letting it click once. “Point of no return now because the door is locked and sealed, is that what you wanted?”

You didn’t reply just stared at him hungrily, the lust inside basically becoming feral. You were still only turned half around, pushing up on the surface of the desk. You used the little space for movement you had and rubbed your ass against Gale’s crotch hoping that that would convey your answer to his question.

The wizard groaned and you watched his eyes roll back when he felt the friction against his erection.

“Do you even have an idea how many times I dreamt of this? Of this exact scenario?”, Gale pressed out as you felt the tingle of magic suddenly at your back and you noticed what must be another mage hand wander up your spine, softly caressing you, stroking up to the nape of your neck and curling itself in your hair.

Meanwhile Gale’s real hands were both free to hike up your skirt slowly, the feeling of his fingertips on your naked thighs making you shiver in anticipation.

“Do you know how many times I did?”, you gave back teasingly.

The mage hand in your hair yanked on it and the wizard’s hand came down on your butt again – a lot harder this time. You moaned helplessly as you felt jolts from the pleasureful pain run through your body and incinerating the fire inside you even more.

“This is not a competition!” There was the professor voice again. You tried to rub your butt against him again and earned another firm slap on your behind. Oh, you could keep going just like this for literal hours.

You heard Gale softly chuckle and then moan at your increasingly unhinged state. It seemed he was finally getting into this instead of worrying about you. And this is exactly what you wanted.

And then, to your surprise, you felt another instance of mage hand starting to wander over your body – dragging up one of your arms with which you had been supporting yourself so far and pressing it onto your back.

“In fact, do you know how many times you made me lock myself in my office after lectures because you always sit there, first row, wearing something that makes me stare at your breasts and then ask the most brilliant questions?”, Gale drawled, his voice dangerously low now. The one hand in your hair tugged on it again, making you lift up your head and look at the professor.

“I don’t know, did I?”, you answered and bit your lips and tried to turn around a little so you could force the aforementioned breasts into his field of view.

Your insolent behaviour earned you another slap and low growl from the wizard before he thrust his hips against you and made you fall prone on the desk surface now.

A third mage hand then started to work on your body, pushing you down until your chest was firmly held down on the desk. Then it grabbed your other arm until both of them were firmly held behind your back, meaning you were now absolutely immobilized and at the wizard’s mercy.

Your boobs were squished against the wooden surface, hurting in a way that was just the right amount to pleasure you. You whimpered in pleasure and closed your eyes trying to maximise your awareness of your body pressed against his.

You knew that you were dripping wet now. And you were desperate to let Gale find that one out.

“I believe, you need to be put into your place for all that, don’t you agree?”, Gale groaned as his hands finally dragged up your skirt over your buttcheeks and revealed your already completely soaked underwear.

“Uh, I mean unless… you’d rather…”, the wizard stuttered as he looked at your naked butt and how wet and ready you were for him, how his magic held you down – the mage hand at the back of your neck making you whimper now with how pleasantly hurtful it tugged on your hair. The sight of you below him had the usually eloquent professor quite at a loss for words.

You knew he was only trying to make sure you were fine but right then there you felt so desperate to just finally let your fantasies come true that you were almost ready to yell at him again to just get on with it.

“Please”, you simply whispered. And that was enough to break the wizard out of his paralysis. In a sudden change of position he knelt behind you, his hands spreading your butt for him as he pressed his open lips and tongue to your wet but still clothed core and began to suck.

You gasped in surprise and your head jolted upwards, straining against your magic shackles. But Gale’s mage hands were holding you firmly in place, resulting in you just squishing your breasts against the table harder and feeling how they and their hardened peaks were smushed against the hard surface, making you moan harder.

Gale kept giving your wet core and clit attention, finally pushing the soaked lacey piece of fabric that was in his way to the side and letting his tongue work on you – sinking it into you, then letting it circle around the sensitive bud down there.

The man was definitely as good with his tongue as you had hoped for – better even. Turns out the tongue wasn’t only good for spells, incantations or scolding naughty students (although that was probably his specialty).

He kept going, turning your whole being into a whimpering, shivering mess with how the tip of his tongue flicked over your clit and his hands squeezed your ass forcefully.

Desperate for his caress, you arched your back as hard as you could, desperate to get even more friction out of this. When you pushed your hips back even further when you were already close to an orgasm, Gale withdrew from you, leaving you to feel suddenly empty and cold.

You whimpered at the loss but didn’t trust your mind enough to form coherent sentences to make a sassy remark at him. You tried to turn around more to look at Gale and suddenly felt that the mage hands holding your arms behind your back had disappeared. In the same moment you heard how the wizard was undoing his slacks. Your eyes widened.

Now being allowed to do so you turned to watch as Gale let his erection spring free out of his pants. Your lips parted at the sight while Gale watched your reaction intently with a subtle hint of a smile on his face. You might be dripping wet for the wizard, but the wizard was hard as granite for you.

He stroked himself a few times and moaned while you kept staring at his hardness and felt the urge to feel him, all of him, become almost unbearable. Gale watched you, observed the carnal need in your eyes.

“You want me to-“ “Just fuck me already, Gale Dekarios of Waterdeep!“

This time the man needn’t to be told twice. He closed the distance between you. All his magic little helpers had disappeared. Now it was only him when he pressed his body against you again. His hard length fitting and pressing nicely between your buttcheeks.

He moved it down to let it slip along your wet core. The sensation of feeling his cock rub against you already almost making you insane. His hands grabbed hold of your hips as you pushed yourself up against the desk as you braced yourself for what was about to come.

Gale kept toying with you a little more before he entered you with a single movement – thrusting hard. You moaned loudly and let your head fall down. The first movement had already made the table shudder. You desperately tried to get accustomed to the feeling of finally being filled to the brim by this wizard.

“Gods, I want to fuck you until everything on this desk is knocked over”, Gale groaned and you could actually feel him twitch inside you as he promised you that.

“Better get to work then, Professor Dekarios”, you gave back with a breathy moan and squeezed your muscles around him. That earned you a deep growl and another hard thrust – oh.

“You enjoy it, when I call you that?”, you teased and squeezed around Gale’s cock again. Another growl, but not as feral as the one before.

“Fuck me then, Professor Dekarios, right on your desk”, you tried and almost regretted it when the wizard started to actually savagely pound into you – there were no pauses in between it anymore. He thrust into you slowly but forcefully, setting a steady rhythm. Every thrust taking you by surprise, unable to getting used to this sensation of being fucked by your professor.

You felt him hit pleasantly deep inside of you and thoughts in your head weren’t coherent anymore as you simply felt yourself give in completely to your lust and this man.

You felt the tingle of magic again right then and there, between your legs, starting to rub on your clit while the wizard kept thrusting into you - hard. So hard that he was about to keep his promise – books and papers fell over and then off with each of his movements that brought your bodies together. Until… out of the corner of your eye you saw a few papers making their way off the table. They looked awfully familiar.

“Wait, is that my exposé? And annotated? So, you did read it!”, you exclaimed with sudden reestablished coherent thinking. No matter the state of heedless need and pleasure you were in – you couldn’t let this go uncommented.

“Of course - I did - it was brilliant!”, Gale answered breathlessly in between his movements, not letting up on his thrusts. You squealed happily.

But then the mage hand between your legs, pleasuring your clit, suddenly pinched it, making you squeal again – but this time in pleasure and pain.

“We can talk about this later!”, Gale said with his scholarly voice again. And you were drawn back into how he was fucking you on his desk. Although you highly doubted you would be talking about anything soon.

He kept going while the mage hand at your sensitive core was almost driving you mad. The mixture of its teasing and the friction created by Gale thrusting into you had you almost at the edge.

But Gale groaned in frustration and dragged you up from the table. “This won’t do”, he commented, then turned you around and pushed you down again. “I need to see your face when I make you come for me”, he explained his reasoning.

So now you were laying on the wooden desk, your naked butt rubbing over the polished wood, supporting yourself on your elbows as Gale moved in and dragged your legs around his hips to enter you again. But before he did, he bowed down to tear open your already very revealing blouse. You gasped, as buttons jumped off it as you felt the burn of his violent tearing. Who would’ve thought the scholar was so ready to take what he wanted?

Thankfully you had been wearing nothing else underneath, so the wizard was immediately greeted with your naked breasts springing free from your top.

He stared at them dumbfoundedly while their peaks hardened in the sudden rush of cold air. You licked your lips and arched your back again to make them look as perky as possible.

When Gale kept staring in awe, you angled your head, cocked an eyebrow and let one hand wander across them – from one hardened bud to the other - and with that motion softly squeezing and dragging them.

“I kept thinking about these since you put them so exquisitely on display that night at the party”, Gale whispered. “So good to see them finally in the flesh”, he continued and licked his lips. His eyes flicked to yours – was he seeking approval for his stupid joke? This man could really swing between effortlessly and mind-blowingly sexy to absolute dork within in a single moment.

You wrapped your legs around his hips to get his dick back pressing against you. “Will you finally finish what you started? This is taking longer than waiting for you to get done grading a paper”, you scoffed and quickly moved up to give his hardness a single firm stroke.

That made the wizard’s head lull back and groan once more. Then he was immediately onto you again, entering you and bottoming out in a single movement. His hands moved to your hips again to give himself more resistance for his thrusts as he started moving again. And this time with an absolute urgency.

He stared at you, eyes flicking from yours to your jigging boobs then to where he could see himself sliding in and out of you. One of his hands wandered down between where your bodies were joined and this time his real fingers were working your clit.

And between his skilled fingers, his powerful thrusts and the way he stared at you as if he actually wanted to devour you, you felt the cliff coming. And you knew that for him it was coming into view as well as his movements became more and more ragged.

“Please”, you begged him simply – not being able to utter anything else.

Some more powerful thrusts and flicks of his thumb while you clenched around him pushed you off then, making you fall, see stars. It was as if you had entered the weave itself.

You moaned his name desperately as he made you come violently. You clawed and grabbed for his arms, desperate to hold onto him while you lost yourself.

You squeezed your legs around him as you arched your back impossibly far with the pleasure spikes ebbing and flowing through your body and your whole soul.

And Gale followed you within only a few more movements, groaning and tensing as you felt him twitch inside you and his hands clawed into the flesh of your hips. He moaned your name as well, as if it were a plea, while he came inside of you.

“Ah Gods above”, he moaned before he collapsed onto you after that.

The two of you were a tangled, sweaty mess. Breathing heavily, none of you trusted their skills to form complete sentences yet again after this.

With a groan you wrapped your arms around Gale’s upper body, touching his hair, moving a strand of it behind his ear before you leaned back. All tension had left your body for the time being and you desperately felt like you needed to lie down now somehow, actually lie down.

Out of all the scenarios you had come up with as possible outcomes to this, this was definitely the most satisfying one. And the fact that Gale had casually admitted that he thought your exposé brilliant was adding to the happy, fuzzy feeling you felt spreading through you now.

Gale’s eyes meanwhile had widened at your soft gesture and caress and he kept staring at you in wonder and admiration. Then he suddenly moved up and kissed you: with open lips, but gentle, almost too tender after what the two of you had just done. The scruff of his beard tickled a bit on your face and made you scrunch your nose a little.

When he withdrew slowly your expression mirrored his from just before.

“What was that for?”, you asked softly.

“I just realised I hadn’t kissed you through all of this and this was a fact I couldn’t quite live with”, the wizard answered. Ah well, he seemingly was already back to his blabbering eloquent self. This stupid idiot – you were down bad for him even worse now.

You suddenly felt a giggle rise up in you and your cheeks warm. So you grabbed the wizard’s face and kissed him again. Longer now, a bit more passionately – and in a way that already made you yearn to have him again.

“So, do you want to talk about your exposé now, or…?”

“Gale, can we discuss this later?”

The wizard gave you a huge smile when he heard you call him by only his first name again.

“Alright, let’s schedule another meeting for that then.”

#gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #bg3 gale #bg3 #bg3 spoilers #gale x tav #gale x reader #gale x you #professor gale #professor dekarios #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 #astarion #fanfiction #baldur's gate iii #kinktober #fanfic #gale #poro fics

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milimeters-morales · 5 months

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gonna start posting completed chapters from my transfem miles fic (Becoming Myself In Truth) on here for fun :3 this is the first chapter

Chapter Two / Chapter Three / Chapter Four / Chapter 5 / Chap 6 / Chap 7 / Chap 8 / Chap 9

Wordcount: 4k+

Pairings: Milesganke, not the focus. Every other relationship in this entire fic is platonic and/or familial.

Warnings: References to Underaged Smoking (Not Miles)

When Scorpion shows up, freshly broken out of prison and with a newer, more hateful outlook on life, Miles isn’t in the mood. He just got out of school, yet he can’t even get five minutes before someone attacks him.

So, when the stinger manages to pierce his arm when he gets too close, Miles goes from “not in the mood” to “really not in the mood” and “ow that hurts” and “about to throw up” in a matter of seconds. Scorpion is his one of least favorite villains for a reason. Anyway, he needed to stop him like, yesterday.

It’s easy when Miles is rushing and using a bit more force than usual, because he really needs to get somewhere safe soon, and in no time at all Miles has Scorpion webbed to an alley wall with a bit too much webbing and is dry heaving on a roof of some random building. Exactly how he wanted his afternoon to go.

The good thing is that he doesn't actually throw up, but he’s still shaking too much, and his vision is too blurry to safely swing around and serve the city at the moment. Miles lays on his side to catch his breath, and lets himself rest a bit. He might not need an antidote this time if he’s lucky…

A pigeon lands in front of him. “Don’t poke my eye,” he tells it. It cocks its head and coos, and he takes that as an “okay”.

His stomach hurts from the dry heaving, and his head and legs hurt from the poison, but if he closes his eyes, he might fall asleep. That’s not something someone like Spider-Man wants to do, especially in the beginning of his patrol, even more so out in the open like this. He’s pretty sure he isn’t supposed to fall asleep after getting a ton of venom pumped into his body anyway, that just seems like a bad idea. Curling up into a ball and covering his ears to lessen the noise of the world until he’s feeling better enough to resume patrol, Miles zones out on the pigeon.

He’s vaguely aware that it starts moving a few minutes later, inspecting him and getting closer. It pecks at his shoulder, and he sighs. It pecks him again, probably curious about the material of his suit, and Miles swiftly grabs it and gently holds it in the air so it stops bothering him.

“You good, Spidey? I heard a bunch of police sirens,” a voice calls from above, most likely a tenant for the much taller building next to the one he’s currently resting on.

“Yeah, peachy,” Miles replies, not turning to face them. He zones back in again, just in case they need something, and to let the pigeon go. It flies off immediately, and he lets his arm drop back down (ow). There’s no doubt his mom will find out about the fight with Scorpion, and then she’ll talk to his dad about the risks and get him more worked up than he already would be— it’ll be a whole thing. He should text her before she does, but… maybe after the venom has run its course (and when he could actually see straight).

“You sure?” that same voice asks about… how much time had passed? It couldn’t have been more than a few seconds or minutes, right? It forcibly zoned him back in-- he didn’t even realize he zoned out again. It was closer this time, about twenty feet away (yikes, he didn’t realize that either), but it didn’t set off his spider-sense, so he didn’t tense up and prepare to run.

“Yeah, don’t worry ‘bout me,” he replies, not moving. He hears them sit down where they are, and is silently grateful that they didn’t get closer. Their heartbeat is calm, and they smell like they’re fresh out the shower with soap and lavender, with a hint of cocoa butter. It’s probably not too strong, but in the state Miles is in right now, it’s like someone is shoving his face in the display section of a beauty store. He doesn’t want to be rude and ask them to leave, though. Hobie would probably tell him something like, “Oi oi, you don’t own the entire place, I can’t believe you became a leech, shame on you!” and ruffle his hair. Wait, no, that’s Peter who does that sometimes, Hobie would just grab his head and shake it a little.

Miles can feel his train of thought starting to derail.

Hobie probably wouldn’t have even been in this situation to begin with, and he’d find a way to beat the hell out of the landlord of this building anyway. Miles can feel his breathing slowing down, the uncomfortable weight of his hearts and lungs in his chest… shit, he might need the antidote.

“What are you laughing about?” The person asks, once again startling Miles enough to make him flinch. His eyes fly open (when did he even close them?) and it feels like something cold was pressed on the back of his neck, traveling down his spine into his legs. “Woah, didn’t mean to scare you. Can you… turn the sparks off?”

God, he didn’t even realize he was doing that. “Sorry, you’re fine,” Miles assures, “just one of those days, you know?”

“Yeah,” they laugh, “it’s all about the he says, she says bullshit.”

“…What?”

“Nothing,” they sigh.

They sit together in silence for a few more minutes until Miles feels like the venom’s effects have lessened enough for him to function like a normal human being and can finally stand up. He’s a bit shaky at first, and can feel the person staring at him, but he gets up! And that’s the important part.

“Stay safe out there,” the person tells him before he swings away.

“Thanks, you too—” Miles says, turning around to give his signature two-finger salute, albeit more lazy, but his brain stalls when he can’t tell if he should use mister or miss. They don’t look or sound obviously masculine or feminine, and they seem to find his blunder amusing from the way they smile, so he hurries and blurts out, “uh, boss.”

He swings away to avoid any further embarrassment.

——

When he returns to the dorms that night, he glances at the growing pile of schoolwork on his desk before running to the bathroom to take a shower. He’s pretty sure he needs to turn a few of those things in tomorrow, and he isn’t bone tired, so he’ll get some of that done. Hopefully it’s easy and will leave him with enough time to sleep.

After his shower he gets to work. The soft glow the lamp casts is just enough for him to see and right at the edge of “useful” before it becomes “annoying”, so he’ll use that instead of straining his eyes.

As he’s factoring a few equations, his thoughts drift back to the rooftop. That person was nice, he supposes, to stay by him until he felt better even when he said he was fine. Especially since they didn’t call an ambulance! No hate to them, he just feels bad wasting their time when he’d most likely be fine without their help. He’s getting a second wave of embarrassment from earlier when he couldn’t decide on what to call them, but he wants to see them again.

That’d be nice, he thinks.

Wait- he doesn’t want to see them again. Where’d that thought come from? And “that’d be nice”? What’s that supposed to mean? He probably just wanted to apologize for being so awkward back there. Yeah, that’s it. He wanted to apologize for potentially making them uncomfortable. They were probably polite about it out of nervousness, it’s what he would have done.

His work is very interesting all of a sudden.

——

He’s a bit sloppy one night during patrol.

His shoulder throbs as a reminder of a crowbar-wielding thief he didn’t dodge in time.

Otherwise, it’s a very successful night. Several crimes stopped before they could happen or get worse, multiple people walked home or accompanied as they waited for their ride home, and none of the bigger headaches-- sorry, villains-- none of them decided to show their faces. He did slam into a wall once, but nobody saw, so he actually didn’t slam into it, meaning his pride was intact.

A shout from directly below has him dropping down onto the ground. “Everything okay?” He asks the two women, one of whom he recognizes as one of his teachers, as they jump back from the storm drain.

“Yeah, dropped my fucking keys,” his teacher, Ms. Green, says. It feels a bit weird to hear a teacher curse so easily, but she’s not his teacher right now, he can’t focus on that.

The other woman groans and holds her head in her hands. “Don’t suppose you can get down there somehow?” she asks.

Hm. Maybe?

“Uh, I can try,” Miles says, wondering if he should really attempt it and get all smelly, “Can you see it from here? I might be able to just-”

Ms. Green rolls her eyes at the other woman’s question, “She was joking.”

Oh. Okay? Didn’t really sound like that, but it’s whatever.

“I’ll just… use the bus.” She sighs, frustrated.

“Would you like me to wait with you?” Miles asks, realizing he can see the keys from here from their shine. He could probably get it with a well-placed shot.

“No thanks,” Ms Green replies, before walking to the bus stop with the other lady.

Miles can definitely grab those keys. He just needs to…

With a small smile, he shoots a web at the keys through the grate, and carefully pulls them up into his hand. They’re a bit dirty, but nothing a thorough wash won’t fix. Probably. Hopefully. “Hey, I got them,” he begins to try and catch up with the women, but a large boom shocks him, and he crushes the keys in his hand like it’s clay out of shock.

“Sorry,” he hurries and says before swinging off towards the noise.

Unsurprisingly, it’s a robbery. Also unsurprisingly, he handles it quickly. Even more unsurprisingly, he managed to get grazed by a bullet on his thigh, because apparently it’s a cosmic rule that Spider-Man can’t have too many good things happen in a row. One is lucky, but two? Now you’re pushing it, buddy. Three is seriously his unlucky number. Grazes hurt enough, he doesn’t want to deal with the pain for longer than he has to.

There was a small fire he put out after getting the criminals a safe distance away from the site, and the smoke got all in his lenses and mouth even though he tried to work as quick as possible. Normally, he wouldn’t stick around, he’d probably be making his way back to the dorms to deal with the graze and to wash the suit, but the pain is making it incredibly difficult to even keep his eyes open to focus. He knows he’s teetering on the lamp, but he doesn’t want to be on the ground in case another threat appears.

“That hurt y’know,” he tells them to make them feel bad. He’s looking at the man that shot at him with narrowed lenses, but it probably isn’t really working to intimidate with his unsteady positioning. He might as well mess with them until he’s focused enough to keep swinging. “I swear I’ve seen you somewhere before…” He leans in a bit (bad idea, he almost falls completely off), pointing to the man. They’re all wearing baggy clothes, ski masks, and don’t have any visible markings on them-

That’d be nice.

The thought comes out of nowhere and makes Miles unstick, and he falls onto the ground below, much to the amusement of the thieves and the embarrassment of himself. He accidentally growls at them before swinging off. Pain be damned, he’s not sticking around after that.

——

Miles sits on the edge of the tub, watching as Ganke kneels on the ground next to him to clean the graze on his thigh. He feels a bit bad for waking him up with his clumsy return through the window, but Ganke assured him he wasn’t sleeping well anyway.

“Thanks again,” he tells him, “I know it’s gross.”

Ganke smiles tiredly. “A little grossness wouldn’t scare me away, or else I’d have transferred by now.” Pushing his glasses down onto his face, Ganke pats the area around the graze dry from the antiseptic. “Do you think you’ll need— oh, nevermind,” he’s interrupted by the sight of the dermis layer stitching itself back together. “Does that make a noise too?”

Miles nods, “Kind of like… cleaning your ear. That squishing sound, or how movies make ice sound when it’s spreading somewhere. But you can go back to bed, I can put the bandages on myself.” He leans over and grabs the package from near Ganke’s knee, pressing a quick kiss to his forehead as he opens it.

“Alright, wake me up if you need anything,” Ganke tells him with a yawn as he gets up and leaves the bathroom, “just not your homework. I’m not doing math before I have to.”

——

The graze isn’t healing.

Well, it is, but not as quick as usual, which means he has to deal with the itchiness that comes from a more natural healing speed. His mom, after not-so-subtly implying that it’s because he’s too stressed and should take a break, suggested wearing more loose clothes than usual when he can so his wounds aren’t irritated as they heal, and he’s starting to really appreciate the advice. But probably not for the reason anybody would expect.

He’s in the drinks section of a bodega, trying to remember what he was doing here in the first place. He’s distracted by his reflection in the door, and he feels… content. He feels good, really great, in Uncle Aaron’s old puffer on top of his hoodie and in his mom’s (don’t tell anybody) old baggy jeans. She said he could borrow them since she hasn’t worn them since highschool, and they fit surprisingly well and comfortably. Paired with the fogginess of the reflection, he looks just… vague. And he really, really likes it. This is definitely a new style he can get behind.

Someone clears their throat behind him, startling him into moving. He hurries to the candy aisle, finally remembering that he was doing a snack run for himself, Ganke, and his parents. Why Ganke hung back at home, he has no idea.

“Okay,” the cashier says with a tired drawl, “will that be all m… sir?”

Miles feels his eyes widen and a small, vaguely light feeling in his chest. He quickly pays for his things and leaves, ready to get back to his friends.

On the walk back, he wonders briefly if the feeling meant anything deeper than him finding it really amusing.

…

Probably not. They might have thought he was too young-looking to be called “Mister” or whatever.

——

“No, I just knew they’d be cheaper here and wanted to see if you want anything,” Miles says into the phone as he picks out a pair of baggy jeans. They don’t look anything like the ones his mom lent him, but they’ll do. They actually look like the ones those thieves from a week back wore, now that he thinks about it.

“Prolly don’t have my size,” Hobie replies. There’s the sound of metal clanging and a girl shouting angrily. “Any skirts you think I’d like?”

“All of them are old lady skirts,” Miles says, and catches a pair of elderly women sending him a disapproving glare. “but anyone of any age can wear them,” he adds quickly.

Hobie laughs, and there’s a loud screech of metal being pulled. What was he even doing? “M’the last person you needa tell that to. Grab three you like so someone else’ll be able to take them.”

Miles switches his phone to press between his shoulder and ear as he grabs a few sweaters and torn jeans. “I don’t wear skirts, though.”

“Wanna try?”

Miles feels his mouth go a bit dry. “Nah, my legs are like, suuuper hairy anyway. Wouldn’t that be…” he trails off.

“You sure? Hairy legs don’t hurt nobody. I don’t shave.”

Well that’s because Hobie doesn’t even grow enough hair to where it’s noticeable.

But Miles wasn’t really sure. Well, maybe he was? He didn’t really want to wear these skirts. People would make fun of him. Or be mean. He didn’t really want to deal with that right now, he just wanted some comfortable baggy clothes. But it’s not like he hates skirts, they can be super pretty sometimes! And his mom says they’re great for hot days. But, like… he won’t say that he’s never thought about it- and who hasn’t from time to time? Every guy thought about wearing skirts from time to time, and there are guys who do! Hobie! Well, Hobie’s not always guy, but-

“Miles?”

“Nah man, I’m good,” Miles finally answers, “You can just donate them if you don’t end up liking ‘em. These look like the Skirts of Theseus anyway.”

“Aight, be safe,” Hobie tells him, audibly breaking something. “Uh, don’t bring ‘em immediately, oil spilled everywhere. Damn, it’s getting in the seats.”

Oh, he’s working on that hunk of junk that he calls a car again.

“You too. Don’t get yourself killed working on that shitty Impala.”

“Piss off,” Hobie laughs before hanging up.

When he waits in line to check out, with probably three of the most disappointing looking skirts he’s ever seen, the people behind him give him a strange look. He clutches the clothes closer to his chest.

——

He doesn’t even make it fully through the door before his dad is telling him to go take a shower.

“You smell like gasoline and smoke, were you at a fire or with Hobart again?”

“Dad, he’s trying to quit,” Miles tried to argue, but his dad simply pointed to the bathroom.

With a quiet sigh, he trudged to the bathroom, which led him here, with his mother’s razor in his hand and staring down at his now hairless legs. He runs a hand down one, marveling at how smooth it is. Hobie’s words about hairy legs made him think of shaving his own, just to see what the hype is all about with all the other girls, and he was in the shower, so why not? It’s not like anybody would notice anyway since he wears pants most of the time, and he could always just grow it back if he didn’t like it. He’s honestly surprised he didn’t cut himself.

“Not bad for a first try,” he mutters, placing the razor back.

When he gets out and goes to his room, he can’t stop rubbing his legs together. They’re just so smooth and seem to glide against each other and on the sheets. Is this the real reason people shave? He can totally get behind this.

Hmm… has his dad ever shaved his legs? Miles has seen him shave his face a bunch of times, and hears his mom complain a few about hair being left in the sink. Other boys his age are already growing out their facial hair and talking about how they have to shave it sometimes, so do they shave their legs too? Do guys shave their legs just as much as women do, but just don’t talk about it? It’s probably another social rule Miles just didn’t pick up on, really.

Not something he really feels like dwelling on, either. It’ll just grow back anyway, and it’s like Hobie said, “hairy legs don’t hurt nobody.”

——

“Whoa there, little guy,” Miles chickles as he scoops up a puppy from the road before it can get run over. It growls at him, the rude little animal, but he knows it’s just scared. After he swings up to the roof of a nearby deli, he sees a small splinter in its paw as he’s checking it over. “Aww, poor thing,” he coos, swiftly pulling out the woodchip. Checking the collar, Miles discovers the pup’s name is Matrimony, which… is definitely a name!

Its fur isn’t dirty, it’s a bit round, and the eyes don’t have any crust like Miles has seen countless other tiny white dogs have, so maybe it escaped through a window or door while the owner was unaware.

“Hey Spidey, that yours?” A random woman wearing a dirty apron comes up to him and points at the dog. “That bichon frise?”

“Unfortunately, no,” he answers, holding the puppy closer.

“Relax, I’m not taking it. Just wanted to check in, since the whole… other… rooftop thing. Strange how this happened twice at the same place, huh?”

What? He stands up to look at her better. “Sorry, we’ve met? It’s just been such a busy week, I don’t really remember!”

“No, it was— uh sorry, I don’t know why I expected you to remember that— you were on the roof holding a bird? And I stayed with you until you got up again?”

Oh. Oh! Shoot!

“Oh dang, I’m sorry! Thank you again for that, but yeah ma—” he stops himself from saying man, “my boss—” oh, that’s just weird, “this isn’t my dog. But you recognize it?”

The person smiles at his blunder (again) and shakes their head. “Just the breed. Cute little things aren’t they?” They slowly go to pet the puppy, but quickly back off when it growls. “I was never great with dogs anyway.”

“Okay, I’m going see if anybody lost this little guy,” Miles tells them. “Be safe out there, uh, what’s your name?”

“Kody,” they respond, waving goodbye.

“Be safe out there Kody!” He says with a smile he hopes they can hear, and climbs down the shop and begins asking around, not letting anyone actually touch it. If it were up to him, which it kind of is because he hasn’t found the owner but not really because he’s a good person, he’d take the dog to his dorms and raise it as his own with Ganke, and they’d alternate on who sneaks it home for the weekends. He’s heard from the upperclassmen that they’d have to do that with flour sacks as pretend-babies one day, so this would be good practice!

No, no. He’s getting ahead of himself. Last time he snuck a cat into his home, he had to kneel in the corner for an hour and all the chores everyday for a week. He hasn’t had to do that in YEARS, and he’s going to do everything to avoid that happening again.

There’s a dog park nearby, so he decides to check there in case the puppy somehow got loose of his leash or whatever was restraining him.

After nearly an hour of confused looks, adoring coos (not towards him, of course), and brief annoyed glances from several people, he comes upon a woman crying on a bench. She was dressed pretty fancy, wearing a tight pink dress, tights, a leather jacket, and crazy-looking heels, and her hair was in an elaborate updo. Probably not something to really wear to a place filled with energetic dogs kicking up dust and dirt, but who’s Miles to judge? He’s the one in a black spandex costume in the middle of the day, after all.

“Ma’am? Are you okay?” He asks her in a soft voice.

Does she look okay? What a genius, Miles thinks to himself.

“Do I look okay?!” She sobs. “My baby is gone! I can’t find him anywhere!”

“A human baby? Or a dog baby? Maybe I can help you, or find people who can.” Miles sits down next to her, placing the dog on his lap and holding it there. “I’m sorry this happened to you,” he adds.

“My- My dog, we were doing some socializing,” the woman begins to look over at him, but gasps at the puppy. “Matty!” She swipes the puppy away, startling him with her speed, and spins around while hugging it. She places kisses all over its head, smearing pink lipstick and her running mascara on its fluffy white fur. It licks her face happily, which might not be healthy. Can dogs ingest mascara?

“You found my baby! Matrimony!”

Oh! Cool! Well, not the name, obviously, but—

“Nice! Well, uh, I’m glad to have helped! You should probably get a tighter harness, ma’am.” Miles gets up, ready to leave, but the woman stops him with a hand on his shoulder.

“No, wait! Here, I don’t have my cash on me right now, but you can have these.” She removes her hand and reaches under the bench to reveal a purse that matches her dress, and pulls out a tiny black box wrapped in a tiny bow. “They’re earrings. I was going to wear ‘em, but I already have too many,” she flashes a bright smile at him and kisses her puppy again, “so take it as a thanks! From the both of us, because who knows what would have happened to my little baby if you hadn’t found him!”

It’s not registering as a threat, so they’re probably actually earrings in here and not something like a small bomb or tear gas. Or silly string. Ugh. “Thank you,” he says, not mentioning he doesn’t wear earrings, “hope you and Matty enjoy your day!” He walks away, rubbing his thumb over the ribbon.

What’s he going to do with these?

A/N: i’m not yet sure if i’ll keep posting all the completed chapters even when the entire fic itself is complete, bc i plan for it to be kind of long but. i’ll cross that bridge when i get to it

#my writing #transfem miles #miles morales #spiderman #spider man #atsv fanfiction #atsv #spiderverse #fanfic #wish i was more. used to this so i know exactly what tags to use #trans miles morales #<- WELL DUH. can’t believe i didn’t consider that one #m&m posts

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acerathia · 20 days

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pink camellias || Chapter 5: tansy

Chapter Summary:

tansy: hostile thoughts/declaring war

Wordcount: 2.8k

Read on AO3 || Masterlist

Pairing:

Bakugou Katsuki / Reader

Tags/CW:

royalty au, inspired by Mulan, war and its consequences, violence, childhood friends to strangers to companions to lovers (i am sorry), Angst, Acts of Service, Character Death (Major, and Minor), swordfights, misogyny, f!reader, kidnapping, implied torture, let me know if I missed anything lol

Note:

anyway, enjoy

A curse threatened to spill from your lips, but there was some restraint left in you, and you were able to swallow it down. Still, a scowl etched itself onto your face, glancing around to see the reactions of the others. You caught the eye of Denki, and you immediately had to look away. He was laughing at you, at your current misery. What camaraderie. Well, you supposed he wasn’t keen on keeping his kneecaps whole for a long time, because your foot was itching.

Despite the urge to ram your foot into his knee, after the announcement of the division, you weren’t sure if you would get the chance to do so any time soon. Because in contrast to Denki, you had the misfortune of getting put into the division led by the Captain. He didn’t seem to like that decision either, with the way his glare had been directed at you for the last minute.

You didn’t quite understand the reason, you thought that after the match you two had he had softened a bit. And with that you didn’t mean his rigorous training, he pushed everyone to the brink, almost resembling torture with some of the activities. Rather, the angry look he had shot you at the beginning of this regime had slowly slackened to a perpetual frown, which honestly bothered you less, as he gave everyone the same look.

So, you felt weird, almost like you had gotten punched in the guts, when his gaze turned into daggers once again. Still, you kept your head high, sure of your abilities, especially after surviving the last weeks and getting stronger than you had ever imagined to be possible, even if it sometimes felt like he had been pushing you harder than everyone else. In hindsight, he may have tried to get rid of you. But you remained steadfast and only gained strength and skills.

But alas, you didn’t have another choice, you had to follow him, lest they grabbed your poor father. No, you had to pull this through. You had to fight in this war, no matter what the Captain might think of you. You were a noble woman, you were used to the way people scorn and glare with contempt, this was nothing in comparison.

So, with sure steps you followed the line with the rest of the division, taking your place among your comrades, all facing the Captain. Once in place, you took a moment to check over your sword, ax and armor again, making sure everything was fixed and if needed ready to be used.

Then the Captain finally called for attention, his gaze sweeping over everyone's heads, but at this point you all had grown accustomed to his harsh eyes and the mean scowl adorning his face. After he made sure that everyone was looking at him, awaiting instructions, he began explaining the plan of the attack, telling you that this division was given command to distract the opponents, while other divisions would encircle them, effectively trapping the enemy between the two forces. So, it was important for everyone to be aware of the route the division was taking, but there was no way anyone would get lost ‘unless they were an idiot’ in the lovely words of the Captain.

After he finished explaining all the necessary details, he fully turned around, facing everyone once again. “You’re no complete failures, so I trust you will manage just fine, or whatever. Just don’t die,” he addressed everyone one last time, and even if this wasn’t motivational in particular, everyone was almost shocked at his borderline compliment. So, it did raise morale, even if he may not have intended it.

And now that all you had to do was wait, everyone started chatting, a buzzing, nervous energy flowing through the ranks, as the explanation only made the war more real, something unavoidable even. Only the Captain stayed silent, his gaze toward the battle field, but he seemed to have felt your eyes on him, as he turned only to catch your gaze.

A breath caught in your lungs, the taste of smoke laying on your tongue, as you couldn’t help but admire the way his eyes twinkled in the rising sun, even from this far. Even from this far you could see the way the sunlight played with his hair, weaving it with the help of the breeze. The view was something out of a painting, all glory and confidence.

Something in his eyes changed, and you noticed it, immediately realized what he had to be thinking. You ground your teeth, seeing the warning, seeing how his eyes told you to walk away before it was too late, but you only averted your eyes, staying right where you were. You won’t give up, what a ridiculous notion. It seemed he still underestimated you, but you won’t just up and leave, not after all that training, not at the risk of them deploying your father instead.

A scowl marred your face, all while not facing him, afraid of crumbling at the sight of his pure contempt, at his unreasonable grudge.

From the corners of your eyes, you noticed some movement, almost like he was making his way to you, but before you could look up, before he even had the chance to take the first step, a horn sounded, the signal to march, to fight. So, you did, in step with the others you marched into the battlefield, prepared to clash with the enemy, sword in hand, steel coating your lungs.

And the first strike swung, first blood from both sides. You managed to block the first attack on your person, not able to avoid a sweeping gaze all around. Everyone fighting by your side seemed to have the ability to hold their ground, swords dancing underneath the sun.

Your blood pumped through your veins, the rush slowly rising to your head. This, the clangs of the edges, the mud underneath your feet, this all felt exactly like all those stories you read, you imagined; a sword and the ecstasy of the fight.

And at first you enjoyed the exchange of hits, the vibration of the blade running through you every time the swords meet in violence. At first it only felt like a game, like a dance filled with elegance and evasion, nothing more. Nothing else mattered but the burn in your muscles and the thrill of risk. Until the taste of blood coated your lips. Until every sound, every scream, every moan began to register in your brain.

Yet, you didn’t feel any pain, it wasn’t your own blood, as the faceless stranger, who had been linking swords with you, didn’t manage to strike you. And in a moment of weakness, a moment of hesitation, you looked around, only to watch how an enemy soldier pulled their sword out of the body of your comrade, of someone you had seen every day for the last weeks, despite never exchanging any words. You could only stare as blood gushed, splattered, leaving his paling body and seeped into the softening ground underneath your feet.

Still, it felt like the blood choked you, clogging your airways, your nose, trickling between your fingers. Your breath came out in short bursts, scratching your throat, and you couldn’t rip your gaze away, despite being engaged in combat. But soon that won’t be a problem, as something overcame your senses, and before you were truly aware of it, you plunged the bloodied sword into the back of the culprit. You couldn’t have allowed him to move on, not after doing what he did. He deserved it, he deserved it; he did, because if not him, who else?

The blood kept flowing and every time you turned around, there was another person, another blade, another fountain. Until you lost track, until all you felt was the blood between your fingers, splatters on your cheeks, drenching your clothes.

Until there was too much space around you, until you stood in the slippery mud all by yourself; and everything hit you at once. Sudden pain radiated from multiple parts of your body, and you hesitated to touch your nose, blood still warm, still trickling onto your lips. You barely remembered an instance where this might have happened. Your arms had grown weary and heavy, barely managing to hold onto your sword anymore, your lifeline slipping with the blood on your palms.

Finally, the blade broke free, stabbing the dead earth with a silent thud, as your fingers lost their strength at once, trembling. Gasps escaped your body, each one a shake in your core, each one shorter than the one before, and your hands grabbed at your chest, at your throat, trying to ease your breathing. But nothing helped, every catch of breath felt painful, as if something was pushing you against the ground, their boot deep in your chest cavity. And there was nothing you could do but to crumble into yourself, tilting your world as you leaned closer to the ground.

You barely notice your knees hitting the soaked earth, the cold blood slowly seeping into your pants, tainting you appropriately. All while your body lurched and bent, trying to inhale, trying to get rid of the nausea, but the smell infested your lungs, dripping into your throat, closing your airways with guilt and fear.

A hand on your shoulder shook you, brought your senses back enough to look up, expecting Denki, anyone really, anyone but the Captain. But there he was, crouching beside you, brows furrowed, jaw tense, yet his grip around you was gentle and grounding. Still, you winced at the prospect of getting verbally beat to a quivering mess, so the surprise shocked you more.

“Get up, the ground is fucking nasty,” he began to speak, voice low as his gaze wandered over your face. “You’re good, princess, only beginners jitters.”

His hand slowly moved towards your elbow, steadying you as he helped you get onto your feet, didn’t let you fall back when pain shot through your legs and rendered them useless.

You breathed through your nose, slowly shifting your weight onto your own legs, but still not ready to fully let him go, as your hand has grabbed his arm in your struggle. For a moment you considered pulling away, not wanting to stain him too, but a quick look at him and you noticed that he was in a similar state of you, and you wanted to ask if it was possible to ever get rid of the smell of blood out of your skin, because right not it felt like your very bones were stained red.

But you remained silent, remained by his side as you both stumbled back through the field, gaze never resting, unless it was to look at him for some moments. At his tense jaw, yet his red eyes seemed to glow as soft as a warm fire. The usual furrow was missing, making him seem more gentle, more fragile, more human. And while looking at him, you noticed the slight tremble in his hands, the way his breath seemed to be as irregular as yours. And you wondered, you wondered how many times he had gone the same thing over and over again, yet never complained, never took a step back. You realized how human he was underneath that facade of strength and anger.

Before you knew it, you had arrived in front of the cabins, and that was when he let go of you. And at first, you thought he might leave without another word, his back already turned towards you, but it wouldn’t be him to leave without one last remark.

“Glad you didn’t bite the dust,” he said, his last words before marching away, leaving you stupefied in front of the door.

For a moment you only stared at his back, at the ripped cap swinging with each step. You didn’t know what you had expected, but this single interaction exceeded every expectation you might have had. But after the small realization on the way here, after this small sentence, you began to see him in another light, and every past interaction had a changed perspective. Still, it felt like your world was turned upside down. But before you put more thoughts into it, you remembered the grime and blood covering your skin.

With a grunt you turned around and stepped into the room, keen on finally getting clean and putting a different change of clothes on, as the blood and sweat began to feel sticky, feeling disgusting with each movement.

You peeled the clothes from your body, throwing them into some corner, because as much as you wanted to burn them, you still needed them, so at least you were going to procrastinate thinking about them for some time. And then finally you started scrubbing the soil sticking to you off, but despite the increased force, you continued to feel sticky, almost like the blood refused to leave you, like it wanted to stain your body with your wrongdoings. The remnants felt so stubborn to get rid off, that even if your skin seemed to sparkle underneath the water, it felt like the clotting blood had seeped underneath your skin and into your own bloodstream, thus tainting you forever.

At least the fresh clothes were a delight on your raw skin, at least something to enjoy was left.

Now that you had the heaviest task behind you, you began to feel famished, even if your insides were still churning, waiting to be spilled onto the ground, waiting to be ripped open. But you only took a breath, noticing how dry your mouth was, how raw your throat felt, filled with screams and terrors. And you decided to get yourself some water to soothe this tenderness, and maybe even try to eat something proper, lest you get yourself sick.

Entering the hall, you quickly looked around, only to see a few milling around, and no familiar faces. Without saying something you made your way to the nearest jug of water, hoping for it to calm your body down, just enough for you to ingest some food. You poured yourself some glass and carefully sipped. And the water did help you, cooling you down. So, you decided to get yourself a piece of bread, as there were no leftovers, much less a proper meal.

With bread in hand, you started to look for something to put into your soon-to-be sandwich. From your position, you had a pretty good view to the door, so you were able to see when a certain blond entered the building, and for some reason you grabbed another piece of bread and prepared them both. After being done, you walked up to him, a sandwich in each other, only to look at him and to silently put the piece of bread in his hand.

He seemed startled, but still took the sandwich. You cocked your head and took a bite out of your own, signaling for him to do the same. And the moment he did, you turned around and left the building, nodding to yourself for being the one to leave him puzzled this time. That was the only reason you left abruptly, not because you were scared to see him judge you, or because you were scared of suddenly turning vulnerable the moment his eyes met yours.

No, none of that. He helped you once, and you repaid the favor. It won’t happen again. This was the Captain, you had to remind yourself, the very man who glared at you for weeks, who clearly underestimated you because you were a woman, who called you ‘princess’ to mock you, who showed grief and fear in the worst of moments, yet helped you through it, who had some sort of way to look at you, whose eyes made you think of excitement, passion and warmth.

You shook your head, taking another bite of your sandwich. You shouldn’t overthink it. There was nothing there, he was the Captain and you were a soldier under his command. And you didn’t want anything to be there in the first place, that wasn’t why you were in this situation. You had to focus back on your main goal: to survive and consequently protect your father from the battle. There was no time to think about some man, there was no time to regret any of your choices. You were already in the middle of this, and you were going to pull this through, no matter what.

Taking the last bite of your sandwich, you grabbed your sword, keen on getting it back to top shape, resolute in finishing what you started. You only had to grit your teeth and breathe through it. This was what you were meant to do; protect the people closest to you, no more dreaming about an adventure. The blood spilled made you realize that this was serious, this blood could have belonged to anyone you cared for. And you would do whatever necessary to avoid this situation.

With practiced ease you swung your sword around, letting it glint against the sun, letting the resolution bleed into its blade.

#bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugou katuski x reader #bakugou x you

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